Wipe Out

I Wiped Out.

Im walking out to feed the chickens, onto our slick wooden steps, not paying the right amount of attention, and the next thing you know, WIPE OUT! As my feet skid out from under, I have enough time to think “Oh no! Not my arms!” but no such luck, I wrench the hell out of my left arm to break my fall. Then I have time to think “Thank gosh its not my right arm!” (which was already kinda damaged) before all I can think about is the jarring pain in my left shoulder. I run around like I usually do when something physically untoward happens to me, cussing and breathing hard. And thinking “oh, god, is this going to mess up my gig tonight?”

The Hustle

I have canceled like 4 gigs in the last month.  I NEVER cancel gigs! That’s not my thing! I PLAY gigs, not cancel them! So its a stain on my escutcheon when it happens. And I think its going to happen more if I don’t start taking some important steps. I’m getting older, I’m not a young ‘un like most of the guys in this trade. Here I’m hustling around at their tempo, cause they’re the guys who set the template.  I see what they do, and I go to do it.

Point is, I’m a trifle older than those lads. I can’t hustle at that tempo. I can’t play two gigs in a day. I can’t be setting up my gear twice in a day, or singing for that long, or kill my hands playing extended hours on the guitar.  I can’t rush around with my head in the clouds and rain under my feet, or I’m going to wipe out. And when I wipe out, this 50+ body takes it hard.

I thought I could. I sure as hell wasn’t going to admit that i couldn’t. But you know what? I can’t. I can play very well, I can sing well, I know more songs every day. But the hustle-hustle aspect has got to go.