Chasing After Wind

I played Monday night at Angela’s at the Crosswalk in downtown Plano. I had a cold for several days previous. But I felt fairly well – although not completely. While my sons, Cameron and J.D., and I were driving to Angela’s, I developed a tickle in my throat. Which is not all that uncommon. Especially if one is playing and singing all the time during the constantly changing weather of a Texas winter.

Which is when I usually get a cold – when the weather changes. Some people think I mean literally every time the weather changes. But that is not what I – or people like me – mean. We mean certain times when the weather changes. In my case, I mean when the weather changes like it has recently – hot then cold, warm then cold, hot then cold. If the temperature had gotten down to freezing or lower, I would have been screwed.

As it was, I thought I was getting off kind of easy this year – while knocking on wood and crossing my fingers. I was drinking plenty of water before my time to play and took my water with me when my time came. Unfortunately the stage area is just inside the front door and the front of the restaurant is all glass. There was a draft with people walking in and out the door.

The crowd was rather loud, so I was singing and playing louder trying to hear myself. The situation made me sweat, as the cold and the tickle were on my mind as well. But, except for the tickle, I felt fine. When we got home, the tickle faded a bit. I didn’t feel too bad when I went to bed.

When I woke up, my nose was stopped up, my mouth was dry and I had a “jaw ache.” I took some head medicine and went to church to take pictures of the troops coming to pick up the toys we had collected for soldiers’ children. If I talked too much, I sounded like a pissed off goose. So naturally, I kept on talking . All three boys still live at home, so not talking is seldom an option.

As the afternoon turned into evening, I began to sound like a pissed off goose trying to imitate Johnny Mathis. I don’t stutter as much as I used to. But I still don’t appreciate jokes about it. Yet that doesn’t mean I cannot see the humor if it is by me at myself. And sounding like a pissed off goose that is imitating Johnny Mathis and stutters – even I have to think that is vaguely humorous.

Which is why I do not try Dragon software with which the computer follows your vocal commands. I cannot imagine what it would look like if I stuttered. I have tried to imagine, but I really don’t want to know. It would pain me to think that all these years of public speaking and mental adjustment was all for anything close to naught. I usually don’t have a problem when I have a guitar in my hand, but carrying a guitar around and whipping it out when I talk would be more than a little awkward. While waiting around in a fast food place, it would really suck.

But I seriously digress. I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I did writing it – not as much as I did living it, which was minimal. However, I would like to say that when I played my set, I did really well. Then things went south. So, looking back on it now, I leave you with these words of wisdom.

If we cannot find humor in ourselves, we are not looking hard enough. And try to stay away from drafts.

Peace be with you.