Tuesday, April 08, 2008
The Terrible Truth or Won't you come home Mr. Talent
Hi, You know how it is when someone gets an awful disease and they say "don't worry, I'll beat this?" Then they never do. Well the bad part about all that is they really think they are going to beat the thing. It's human nature. Even me. Not only have I been losing my ability to play stringed instruments over the last six years or so, but the whole time I've been telling myself and everyone else how hard I have been working and how I was going to get a CD of my stuff out; maybe doing all the ballads that used to get me in good with the girls. I even have a studio in my house capable of making this record. I have all the instruments, software and microphones too. The only thing missing is the talent. Yes the talent. That certain "I don't know what" that I had for all these years, the thing that allowed me to get away with being a performer while not being the best player or singer, but gave me the confidence that I could stand up against anyone in either department. The "Talent" seems to have taken stock in my situation and decided that I'm no longer a good risk . Either that or something like it because the bastard's done a back door on me. I'm serious you know. I pick up my new mandolin (was to be my salvation) and play a scale. Well part of a scale. It's like digging a hole- do re mi-but my fingers fumble and the notes will not flow. This is bad because the scales are just repeating patterns learned by rote and are something you do while Mr. Talent is having breakfast or a brief nap. Then I'll try a tune. Well most tunes are just bits of scales with a A part and a B part and hardly something to get Talent out of bed for unless you are really putting on a show. Well, in my case, I try to fight my way through a simple song I've played 1000 times and get the distinct feeling that Talent is not even in his room let alone in bed. No, I fear that the dread Parkinson Company has finally cut enough of the Rainforest in my head to affect the special broadband communication with my hands that is necessary for real guitar playing to take place and, in turn, attract an itinerant Talent. See, I can be flippant about it because I still don't really believe it can happen to me. Just give me another week or so, I'll break out. See what I mean? Thing is I wont stop trying and if anything, it does give a bit of a glimpse into how people with real problems like cancer keep going, even when the truth is right there for you to see. Human nature. It is an Awful and a Terrible thing, but if you allow those words to hold their original meaning you will know it is not bad.