yesterday, i finally buckled and bought some guitar picks. i had searched every crevice in the couch, every back pocket, every guitar case and found that i was in possession of about two picks. i qualify that number with about because one was so worn at the tip that it was hardly worth playing with and the other was flimsy and chewed up. those are the ones you never lose. that said, there is nothing that makes me feel like more of an amateur guitarist than buying picks. the clerk will look at you incredulously: "is this everything?
these things are like bobby pins. you can't just go to the store and buy them like you've never done your hair. you can always find a pick. you can always find a bobby pin. not true. lately i haven't found either and my disheveled playing and hair have told the story themselves. what does the fact that i have finally stopped finding these things say about me? have my eyes become too careless to see them? have i stopped looking in the right places? is it time to swallow my pride (there seems to be a common thread running through my entries lately) and buy these things? do i need to make more guitar-slinging, hair-doing friends with a propensity for leaving their belongings behind?
perhaps all of these things are true about an unfortunate number of things in my life lately. i hope i start seeing again. that said, if i don't, i hope i will have the guts to give up those scalp scathing hair pins and hollowed out promotional Budweiser picks for those nicely coated tips that sail against my head and those 1.5mm thick, colorful D'Andrea picks that only have my teeth marks in them.
yes, these little things that can mean nothing, but certainly shouldn't, are everything, kind employee.
3 comments:
Now I can't speak for bobby pins, but you're spot on concerning picks. Why is it so embarrassing? Why?
SO funny! I never knew that picks, bobby pins and BINKYS have so much in common. You can NEVER have enough and you hope you have some in all locations... your purse, your car and every room in the house. You never know when you'll need one next. Also like your guitar picks, our binkys get chewed on and chewed up...not by Lincoln, but by the dogs. They love those things. In fact, last night they chewed up our last BOY colored binky. I went to our local grocery store and bought JUST binkys. I went to the self checkout line to avoid the embarrassment of having to explain that, "Yes, that's EVERYTHING". We had ONE left before the trip to the store but it was from our friends baby girl. The dogs put some minor teeth marks in it so I was too embarrassed to give it back, but the damage was minimal enough that the binky is still usable... so we still use it. The unfortuate thing is that we can't go out in public with it. Heaven forbid a baby boy suck on a pink and purple binky! For that reason, it has managed to stay in his crib. It really is funny how you can always find the misfits. Um, that was long. Sorry.
ps. I really hate those scalp scraping bobby pins. They always pull your hair out, too.
pps. I think the word/name Bobby should be outlawed. It's just silly.
ppps. Remember dad's song "bobby pin! ne ne ne ne ne ne ne.... bobby pin! ne ne ne ne ne ne ne..." And then he'd say "Abracadabra!" as the applied pressure from the bobby pin forced the puss and dirt out of his pores. VOMIT!! (but so funny)
pppps. I think this comment takes the cake for longest blog comment EVER. It's actually more of a (multi) paragraph response than a comment. I probably should have just emailed you. Whatevs! Love you!
Julia,
I have a whole package of bobby pins sitting in our room! You know very well that what is mine is yours. And if you can't find those pins, you've always got mine to fall back on.
Don't be disheveled. It is unnecessary and unbecoming.
That being said. I think you've been looking quite nice lately.
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