1. Wait! Wait, don’t forget to take your house key; we haven’t made a spare yet.
2. Turkey consumption followed at once by a nap were my plans for yesterday.
3. The trouble is usually followed by the punishment.
4. The nearest drum shop is many miles away.
5. With a faint pop he sent the .177 pellet gun round into the raccoon that was raiding the trash.
6. I’m not a big fan of these rock bands whose lyrics are all shadowy and ominous.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to playing a gig in Bah Hahbah, tomorrow my plans include picking up the Christmas decorations at our old house, and Sunday, I want to kick it out and break it down (whatever that means)!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I had a strange dream last night that I wanted to get down.

Jim Thompson and I were hanging out in the old Rockland bowling alley. It was totally different on the inside, though. It had been redone as a family fun center. It was bright white inside. There was a cafe that featured live music. There were lots of video games. There were only two bowling lanes, and they weren’t open.

In my dream it was 6:30pm. It was still light outside, so it must’ve been late summer. Jim and I were sitting at a table, enjoying some kind of spritzer drink. Pastor Dave and Josey came through the door. Pastor Dave was carrying a guitar case and one of those singer/songwriter amps. I didn’t know he was going to be there. I got up, and walked over to him, and said “Are you playing a gig here tonight? I didn’t realize that!” He said, rather shortly, “No.” He then went up on stage, set his gear down, and started setting up. His reaction wasn’t typical Pastor Dave. I could tell something was bothering him. I didn’t want to bother him more by talking to him while he was setting up, so I went and sat back down.

When he was done setting his gear up, he came and sat down with Jim and me. He wasn’t playing the gig; he was acting as a roadie for a visiting folk musician. He was renting his gear to that person.  I said something to the effect of “It’s nice to see you. I didn’t have any plans for tonight, so Jim and I came here to see the music.” Pastor Dave replied, “The ladies and I prayed for you tonight.” That’s when it hit me: I was supposed to be at a church prayer service at 6pm!

“I’m sorry, Pastor Dave! I forgot all about it! Honest, I did. You just heard me say I didn’t have any plans… I wouldn’t lie to you. I just forgot all about it.”

“It wasn’t very well attended,” Pastor Dave said. “It was just me and a couple of the older women.” I felt really bad. As a deacon, it’s my responsibility to be at services, to be ready to serve, and to be faithful. I felt like a heel. Pastor Dave got up, and went to the stage. I followed him.

When I got on stage, I could see off in the stage right wings a big envelope. It was one of those kind of plastic-y Priority Mail envelopes. I noticed it was my writing on the envelope. It was addressed to Steve Waterman’s mom! Apparently, the church had collected a bunch of cards for her when she was in the hospital. She had been moved to a long-term care center, and the hospital had returned it to sender. They had thoughtfully included the name and address of the facility where she was now. I fumed a little bit that the Post Office wouldn’t just deliver it to the now corrected address. But you know the Post Office: they want their postage times two! I looked at the date on the envelope. It was March! The envelope was about six months old!

The owner of the club noticed that I was looking at the envelope. He said to me “For some reason, the Post Office returned that here. Since you’re a musician, I figured you’d be playing in here sooner or later, and I’d just give it to you when you played a gig here. I kept forgetting to give it to you.”

Then I woke up.

I like wearing Chucks. They offer the right blend of support and flexibility. They come in great colors. And, when found on sale, can be somewhat affordable. I found a pair, used, on Musician’s Friend last week. They were in my size, and black. They were rated a “1″ on the Musician’s Friend “Used Gear” scale: like new, without original packaging. I could get for $26, or about $10 off new. Being cheap, I ordered them. They showed up today. There was a big, black scuff mark on the toe. I figured “I’ll just scrub that off.” Nothin’ doin’! It appears someone else (the first customer, maybe?) scrubbed it enough to wear through the first layer of rubber. There’s a divot right through the first layer. It was unsightly enough that this cheapskate wanted to send them back. I called. I explained. The lady on the other end said “Don’t bother to send them back. If they look like that, we shouldn’t have resold them. You can just keep them. You’re all set.” Well, I certainly appreciate that! And, this makes up for that drum bag fiasco I had with them a few years back. They’re back on even footing (so to speak!) with me now.

Haven’t posted in some time. Facebook is the new blog. It’s much easier to log in and post two sentences than to come here and have to think more. Anyway, here’s something a little fresh at least.

1. We need to finish moving stuff out of the old house.
2. Matthew used the word “seriously,” and it made me smile.
3. If you want some Fillet Mignon, don’t stop by my house tonight. (There isn’t enough to go around!)
4. We’re eating Fillet Mignon because got a great deal on whole beef tenderloin earlier this year.
5. Massachusetts has a proposed 5% sales tax on elective cosmetic surgery; I think the government gets enough of our money. (Maybe they should learn to live within their means like the rest of do!)
6. Finding that perfect gift for a special somebody makes for a happy holiday.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to grilling Fillet Mignon for Susan, tomorrow my plans include cleaning the old Salvation Army quarters, and Sunday, I want to do something fun!