So what is a diary? A record of the days events, right? Care enough to follow me below the mangled G-Cleff?
got up at 7:10 and walked out to the end of the drive-way to get the paper. Headline said "Jury Finds Zimmerman 'Not Guilty'. There's nothing like a punch in the gut that says, "Good morning", is there? Yeah, good morning.
Nonetheless, I've got things to do...get to the church and make sure that that the amps and instrument set-ups are going to function...try not to let this news get in the way of getting the "work" done...meet with the keyboard player and the guitar player (he's 17 years old), I'll play bass and do vox...three lead cords are not keeping continuity...scramble around for some cords in the reheasal room closet...find two that work, still need one more...call Mrs. Nuthanger and she brings one from another gig-bag at home just in time for the service to start...the organist makes a fantastically funny pun about "discord"...all is well, we are alive and praising God at 9:20...
the Pastor speaks on the the proscribed liturgy...the story of the Good Samaritan...she ties it in with the case and verdict of the Zimmerman / Martin trial...it takes the courage of the Holy Spirit for her to do this...
Mrs. Nuthanger and I accept an invitation to the home of the guitar player, (I've mentioned that he's 17 years old), for a day of picnic and fellowship...we are alive, and enjoying food and thoughtful dialogue and yard games, wiffle ball, volleyball, swimming with his parents and their friends...
the guitar player has his friends there as well...they are a bunch of beautiful young men, (boys) and women, (girls), who are all just about 17 years old...they are full of life and motion and verve...they "test" us on what songs we can play, (I've brought a guitar along), and the day is just about as beautiful as they are...what a celebration of life!
evening, and back home...pick up the guitar, start strumming...strap on a d-harp...Trayevon comes back to mind...he was 17 years old. He's not alive. He didn't get to picnic and sing and laugh and play with his friends and parents today...
play this:
"May God bless you and keep you always, may your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others and let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung,
And may you stay forever young.
May you grow up to be rightious, may you grow up to be true.
May you always know the truth and see the light surrounding you.
May you always be courageuos, stand up right and be strong..."
and now the words start to stick in my throat, and I barely crack
"and my you stay forever young"...
blowing now on that d-harp, there are tears streaming down my face, and I thank the Lord that all I have to do is keep strumming and breathing...
and then bark out...
"May your hands always be busy, may you feet always be swift"...oh God!
"May you have a firm foundation when the winds of changes shift,
May your heart always be joyful, may your song always be sung,
And may you stay forever young"...
the guy who wrote this song was named Zimmerman...but eschewed that name for Dylan...the irony makes me shudder...
this d-harp does not sound like a celebration of life, it is a funeral dirge...
ah, Treyvon, I'm so sorry!
I thought that I could be happy, today. I guess you did, too.
Goddamned guitar.
Good night, diary. Talk to you tomorrow.