This year my birthday adds up to one. (How appropriate, especially if you know the lyrics.*) It was a stressful birthday eve but I am straightened out. Be that as it may, my original plan for today was to drive north to Costilla, Amalia, and the Valle Vidal in my snorting V-8 Dodge. But on a trip to town I noticed how smoky and sad the mountains were. There’s also the immediate case of possible abduction, murder, and bad hygiene in a “compound” full of crazies near Amalia itself, and there must be troopers everywhere. I saw five black-and-whites heading north in a pack, and that was just us in the moment. The valle isn’t going anywhere. So.
My Fender Twin Reverb amp has sat under my desk gathering dust for several years. I will not add them up for shame. It’s a classic, very loud, and weighs ten thousand pounds. After the sound went wonky and the tubes glowed strangely and the thing just quit, I stopped playing, too, and put the electric 12-string in the case. This was already well into the Great Deprivation and seemed to fit. No one feasts until I kill the dragon, etc. I already needed hearing aids and now a dental implant and of course a home. However. There’s just one way to have these things if you’re an artist, and it’s not the way I thought my whole damn life. That’s why I’m driving the amp to Santa Fe today to drop it off to be repaired. A new power supply, I think.
Everybody behave. Back soon!
* Blue Suede Shoes