Not this time, though. Our son and his girlfriend flew into town on New Year’s Day; our daughter was already here for Christmas break. No stink to any of it. I wanted them all to stay and stay and stay.
Admittedly, their presence disrupted certain household norms. My son brought his dog, for example, which upset our cat. (The cat, a genuine ’fraidy cat, spent three days hiding under a bed.)
And my usual routine got kicked. As an early riser whose pre-dawn routine is not complete without at least an hour of guitar playing, I had to make a few adjustments.
Ordinarily I use the basement guest room, a quiet and secluded place – but for the time being, ocupado. O where to play, in this slumbering house?
What about the living room?
The answer to this question: an emphatic yes. I took my old beater guitar, loosened the strings, and stuffed it like a turkey – socks and t-shirts, lots of ’em, crammed into its body to muffle the sound. Re-tightened the strings. Tuned.
•
Did it work?
Better than I hoped! I played all my current stuff without a care, without the least concern I would disturb somebody.
Did I play “Sleepers Awake”? Too obvious. Instead, I worked on (what I call) Ted Greene Arrangements for Prepared Guitar.
The guitar, incidentally, is surprisingly heavy with all of that fabric concentrated in its guts.
As this is written, things are about to return to normal. Twang twang. Pleased as I am, I miss the kiddos – and they ain’t even gone yet.
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