OMG! I mean that.
It’s summer now in North Louisiana.
What that means when you live in the SWAMP OF HELL.
It’s like living with the hounds of hell, it is. Don’t go outside until you have checked the humidity status so you can know if you’ll need snorkel gear to get to your car.
While we’re on the subject of drums. Learning… a little bit of a lot of songs. I have however managed to learn one whole song by heart. Seven Nations Army. Awesome song!!!
And one more little thing has kept me grounded at home.
Heat and humidity have dampened, pun intended, 🤪the priming and painting fun with the set of drums I’m redoing…for now. But C19 has put a stop to traveling for now which gave us the chance to fix a few things on our fifth wheel. Not to mention I broke my back, 😦 Followed by gasping 🤭 from the audience.
What had happen was: we were at an RV park, real pretty setting. I had decided to take a walk down by the water. I started walking down the steps when I looked over at my old man; he’s my boy, my son, my dog. I thought maybe these steps could be hurting his feet so, he being a solid 30lb sack of meat and bones and I the mommy picked him up and proceeded down the steps.
Solid iron steps with some prongy things sticking up so you don’t slip and fall after a swim. Well…one step, two step, three step down I went or should I say, I rolled. Later I found out I went 21 steps down to the ground with my doggo in my arms, I think.
After the fall I wondered, for just a second, it’s amazing how much stuff goes through your head when you wonder, for just a second, am I dead? Where’s my dog? I knew I’d landed in heaven which also made me think I’d get to see my sister. Next thought, my eyes are open and my head was killing me; not heaven yet, dang! After being a medic for thirty years I did a quick assessment on myself. Nothing was broken, check, doggo is fine, he’s looking at me weird, check. Little boy swimming across the lake towards me, I asked him if he were coming for me and he said yes. God, I found out is a little Mexican boy with two sisters, Angels, of course. I was still planted on the ground with my head pounding. They got to me and the little Angels checked me out, after all their mommy was a nurse. Those three children were my Heaven sent heroes.
Unfortunately, I never seen them again 😢. The next day I decided after all the vomiting and pain, I’d go get checked out at the ER. I mean who wants to go to the ER when you feel like shit, am I right? Concussion, I already knew that…LOL and the broken back thing…I’d already had one back surgery five years ago so maybe I bruised my rods…LOL I was already in pain. However, the pain became worse and I made jokes to my spouse about never hurting this bad and “maybe I broke my back…” hahaha, I did. Seven months after the fall I decided to see my orthopedic and now I’m scheduled to see my neurosurgeon. I mean, am I the only one that hates going to the doctor? Just a little ole compression fracture.
Ok, so enough about me and more about drumming. For now the only thing I can do is walk. I do however have the most comfy drumming chair with an extra pillow. I’m sticking to it until it’s decided what to be done with me. The force is strong with me…LOL
I will keep y’all up on my status even though I have no followers. I still have my gathering in my brain.
So, no matter what the hell life hands you, “Stick With It.” No regrets…
So, I bought a bunch of drums, the ones you play, and I want them to look pretty again.
There is a guy on YouTube that is a master at repainting drums, he is my hero, and he’s not afraid of colors like so many people are. Me, I love colors but lemon/lime green on a drum? Who does that? Eewwww! I wish I could find the pic of that drum. When I do I’ll show y’all. But for now I want to share my experience at recovering some ole drums.
The first drum I’m recovering is a, rack Tom, the lemon lime one. Happens to be a Rack Tom, however it has many names just depends on who is saying it. 🤔
The blue you see on her is going to be beautiful, but. In order to be beautiful I first had to sand her, spray primer, sand her again, four coats of primer and a final sanding, finally, paint.
Special note: stay away from acrylic paint no matter how much “but I love the color” you convince yourself that your drum has got to be that color… just stay with water soluble paint. Cleaning your handy little spray gun and having your fingers stripped of their flesh from the lacquer thinner may convince you…
Now take that ole drum and prep her for a new paint job.
Just stick to it…
I’m a transplant from Ft. Lauderdale, Florida to West Monroe, Louisiana. I hate it here!
I’m such a sarcastic smart ass, but I think I’m funny.
I totally love my dogs!!
The Sloth 🦥 is my spirit animal.
I picked up a bad habit: drumming and refinishing drums.(I just want my drums to have everything I didn’t while I was growing up) their own cowbell and tambourine.
Hey, I spent 30 years saving the lives of drunk drivers, and other stupid shit people do.
Paramedic… with PTSD
Come give me some advice or get some advice. What ever!
Charles Outlaw, was doing a show for his new Podcast. In his interview he tells a story about how he became a funny guy. One day he got to school and while he was sitting in his car, he had a panic attack. After he got himself together he went in and taught class like any other day. After some time he was able to stop teaching and be a funny guy. There is more to his story, during the interview. Check it out. Hang on I’m gonna get to my point, right now.
Listening to Charles interview reminded me of myself and how I got to where I am. I have always lived with depression, like she is my companion. We all have a story to tell and mine would put you to sleep 💤, so I’ll not go there, but I will tell you this. I started thinking about college degrees, I hated college more than anything. But I wanted to be a nurse, I thought, then I wanted to teach literature, not because I cared if kids might enjoy it or not, but because I liked to read. I wanted to teach History because I thought we all should know. But I soon learned that there is truth and there is bullshit, much of what we have been taught is a joke. Now, I got as far as secondary classroom observation when I realized how much I dislike children…go figure. Finally, I became a paramedic. I hated that too, for 30 years and one back surgery later. But that was what paid my bills. Now I’m retired, medically and disabled. And I’m medicated for PTSD, you know, the job I did for 30years, i walked away from every dead man, woman, and child at the end of my shift. So I thought. However, the things I saw I can never unsee, again. I did finally find my passion in life after hating everything before me. I love dogs, and people suck, I’m getting therapy for that…LOL I found a love of golf 🏌️,and I play and restore the drums. I always wanted to play the drums and I’m pretty good for being fifty-something…LOL So now I am well ahead of depression she is no longer my companion. So, thanks for telling your story, Charles Outlaw…🤠
The matter of family is the matter we carry around for them. Am I right?
Me personally, I have been so fortunate to have family that I have never known, hardly known, and know, gather me up, emotionally that is, and assure me that they love me and will be here for me. Even when I became an instant mother to a Nephew when he was only 14 and his mommy and my baby sister was tortured and finally killed by cancer.
Oh my God, I was not mommy material and that shortly became obvious when my Nephew and I mixed like oil and vinegar. We were both in a horrific state of grief to the point of me sending him off to live with another relative…I was no good for him and I was the adult, I didn’t care. I had decided that he was absolutely not the best part of my sister and I had to let him go and vowed we would never speak again; I didn’t care.
Twelve years later he reached out to me. I couldn’t believe it, he had become a beautiful and forgiving man. We didn’t dwell we just shared our lives with each other. He is my family, he is the Matter of family, he matters to me and he always has.
Thank God, for family…
I think for me if I do something that keeps my brain occupied I have accomplished something.
Speaking about keeping a pig for a pet. I’m sure I would never.
What about allowing a goat to live in your house with you? Nope, not gonna do that either.
Back to accomplishing something. Go to bed early wake up when you want, and, or, keep going to bed after midnight and sleep until you want to wake up?
That’s like pissing the day away. I’ve realized that I am not designed to keep myself occupied all day, I am meant to just fuck off and chill. Nothing wrong with that. For real.
Music and Seroquel are my life. I don’t even mind. Here is a warning though; do not mess with my meds. Hehe…
TV is boring I put too much into it and have too many expectations.
Back to my show…🙄🤪
I was browsing today through my old messages for an old message I was looking for but instead ran across a conversation between one of my absolute, I thought, best friend and my last conversation from seven months ago. That conversation has been eating at me all day.
All of a sudden my friend, so I thought she was my friend, wouldn’t talk to me on the phone she would text with me only. So, with no explanation she would only text with me but absolutely not talk to me on the phone. Now, this has never happened to me before and I continued to ask her why she would not talk to me. She would not give me an explanation no matter how much I asked her.
Finally out of frustration I told her I deserve an explanation as to why she wouldn’t talk to me on the phone. She kindly told me she owed me nothing. I never told her she owed me anything I just felt that if your best friend doesn’t want to talk to you but will text with you only, that kind of behavior warrants some kind of explanation, am I right? If you said yes you would be correct…LOL But instead of and explanation that would never come… I texted her and kindly told her to fuck off.
She proceeded to tell me this. “I’d think carefully about that. It’s not like you have a ton of friends.” I told her I didn’t have a ton of friends for a reason. And she just became one of those reasons. OUCH! Now she wants to shame me?
Theres a song by Five Man Electrical Band, it’s an oldie called Sign. It’s been running around my head today. One line in particular. “To put up a fence to keep me out or to keep Mother Nature in.” And another line says “Hey! What gives you the right?” There it is in a nice compact explanation.
If I were her I’d regret my behavior because it caused her to lose a best friend. No worries though, no one reads this shit its like journaling to yourself…LOL
In 2020 I am gonna tell my body that we are still a kid until she believes me.
At this point in my life I am so tired of my body out running my brain. Like, when I sit and write, kind of like right now, my body sits and chills like the old woman in my mirror or the same one on my drivers licenses. Both of them are my mother.
Somewhere I lost my will to strive and am constantly telling myself “you’re too old.” Whose decision was to it to tell me that I’m too old? Here is what I remember about the time in my life where I knew my prime was over, that’s when I became too old.
It all started when I realized that I didn’t matter anymore. I don’t mean not matter to the point of jumping to my death from a really tall building I mean not matter to the point that suddenly you are put away like a sweater you love but it’s not in style right now or it’s just too hot outside to wear it.
When I say “I don’t matter anymore” what I really mean is nobody acknowledges you or sees you like you think they used to when you were “younger.” It’s like you’re no longer worth a second glance.
When I began to feel isolated and alone it took me quite some time to accept the possibility that I no longer was the same person I was only a short time a go. Who was I becoming? Am I so insignificant that I’m waving goodbye to the person I used to see when I looked in the mirror while at the same time seeing the person I am becoming, or have become, and not believing what I see as my future?
When the hell did this happen?
I have made up my mind after several years of contemplation. I don’t want to write a book. The idea of being an author is a brutal amount of pressure that I can not spare during this phase of my life.
Don’t get me wrong now, I could put my thoughts and ideas on paper if I wanted too but I am lazy…LOL I also have a problem with concentration. I’ve decided that writers are a remarkable breed of people with a calling to write. I am totally not one.
So, what is it that I want to do? How important is that question to me? I know what I want to do and I’m glad I asked me.
I think what I will do for now is concentrate on golf and music. Music is my life…