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Grey Green Gospel: more building tales
Later. First this.
I have an octave range of 12 I was told by my pregant, wig wearing, speech teacher in my senior year. My voice goes up and down in accordance with my mood, or level of fatigue, etc.
Ok, hold that thought.
I was not going to talk about this, but that was twice. Ok, so lets break it down, B knocked on the door. She needed to borrow a cup of green beans she was having company soon and really needed the beans to entertain. Fine. She offered me some morphine, type painpill that they give dying people. They last 12 hours, etc. etc. I turned it down. A great feat for one like myself who does enjoy altering his reality. But with the sinus infection, the TMJ, etc, the pressure, and with my new found freedom, I cannot help but to feel this extreme urge not to be medicated. No, not altogether, but I need to kick cigarettes and slow up a bit on my other vices and soak this in. So then, she sang to me in the bedroom. I had turned my music down at her request. I will meet someone someday, etc. and they knew me all along etc. etc. It is a nice sentiment
On the second knock, B was there with the trumpet player, her company. I was invited to Midnight Mass at St. Mary's. She said we could all use a good dose of spirt. Oh dear. The trumpet player wished me a blessed holiday. Oh, she said that the song meant that I would meet someone someday that I knew all along, or they knew me etc, and happiness shall follow, etc. I know stop with the etc. I promise. But, she added this with an air of warning. She warned me that I must learn to toot my own horn. I asked her if it was going to happen right away. No, she said "it won't happen for a couple of years". Toot. night. see ya soon.
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