Becoming a blow-hard
Don’t ask me why this popped into my head.
Sierra’s sick – and has been, with a revolving door of sicknesses, from croup to pink eye – and I have a sore throat, and Kerrie’s getting one of her own. We’re all overtired and worn out and ready for the weekend, already.
But then I realized that, this time, for real, I’m going to learn to play harmonica.
I wonder why the harmonica became such a cool instrument – how some of my favorite artists, some of the most influential musicians of all time, names like Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen, ever decided that the restrained whine of a harmonica was a necessary sound for life-changing music. Seriously – there’s a nails on chalkboard element to it, yet it brilliantly captures loss and sadness and hope and old-town values and everything that America stands for.
I also wonder why I’m thinking about this now. Maybe I’ll make a podcast out of it so you can hear a before and after. If there ever is an after.