Saturday, July 14, 2012

Texino Attempts to Discuss Memory,( but Implies he knows secret sex stuff)

The last time I posted, my son caught wind of it and posted a rant (mostly true) about what a loser I am. I am going to attempt another essay and hope for the best.  This is about memories.

I tuned Emmylou Harris' guitar at an open mike show at The Cellar Door back in 1963.  She was a local girl and played out in the DC area before moving to Nashville and becoming famous.  The point here is, when I look back I realize that Emmylou could tune her own guitar just fine and maybe she was trying to get my attentions.  We were 15 and I cared more about bluegrass music and Martin guitars than I did about getting dates. Still for a short time we had a connection long enough to make a memory.  I have lots of memories.  In fact, I pretty much live on and in them these days.  That's due to my staying in bed around 24 hours on any given date, so long as I don't have a doctors visit in the plan.  It's not so bad, as I have always been lazy and seeing that I worked hard for many years at jobs which were either dangerous, or jobs with 24 hour shifts.  I stuffed music in there as well but I rarely made any serious money at it.  Hense the need for the other jobs i.e. high steel painter, and Firefighter /Paramedic .  Now some medical folks like to expound on the topic that being a war soldier set the stage for me to desire jobs holding a degree of excitement and danger.  Maybe they have a point, although I did not seek employment where I might, by chance, kill someone. (a cop, mobster?) OK?

So go the memories.  To me they are bound to little cubes of thought; bright little moments you might say. I can pull up these little films of my time like a personal YouTube.  Pretty much true to fact good and bad.  I remember women; God I have been in love with every girl who gave me a chance.  Thing is, I could not just go and get a date.  I was shy.  Fortunately the girls liked me and would invite me home after a gig.  If I was in a popular band, I might be asked out by a waitress and the word would get out that I knew the drill and soon most every waitress on the job would ask me home.  Those memories are all there, sharp as lightning.  I don't mean to hang out with the sex, but folks take interest in that kind of stuff. I could probably write a texino sexual suggestion and technique manual. It's been done, besides I spent a longtime figuring out the female mystery and I'm not certain the girls would pleased if I were to blab about how to put them    in a state of bliss.

Now I have more to say about memory, but my care givers are on to me with trivial pursuits  about whom to call if I croak or take a serious fall.  This is directing me to disease central and I do not want to talk about that, so bye for now. XOX  Fr Tomas Texino SJ

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