Thinking and Running.

I’ve been writing a few long form pieces.  My question to you, is do you have the stamina to read them? You probably do, its about the length of half a kindle single, and is worth half your lunch break.  (Or that meditative period where there’s a software update, and you just have to relax.)

At the first sign of spring in New York, I suddenly felt the need to go out for a run.  My hamstrings disagreed, but ambition won out.  Brooklyn Bridge park gets more verdant and beautiful by the day, and you have to explore that stuff as it’s happening.  I ran over this bouncy foot bridge connecting the Brooklyn Heights Promenade to the newly graveled path below…and ran straight into Bjork.  Not physically, but she was standing at the corner where the path meets the street.  I took it as a sign, because our upstairs neighbors just told me she lived there.

We had a great moment of negotiation with these neighbors.  There was a noise issue, stemming from the game Rock Band.  Our house turned into their extended resonant speaker, we could hear every click of the sticks.  A few month of silent hatred went by, with occasional banging on doors, making that hatred mutual…and then we decided to talk.  Who talks anymore, I’ll just send a tweet or some shit.  But as our favorite internet comments tell us, its much easier to be facelessly mean online.  We arranged a time, and they came downstairs to perform a firsthand listening test and see what we were dealing with.  The noise was acknowledged, they got rid of their subwoofer, bought some sound treatment for the house, and the relationship has improved a billion fold.  A lot of energy was wasted before that.

Turning 30 has made me feel both more and less “Rock and Roll.”  I’m playing more music, and appreciating the music I love in a different way.  I’m reflecting more on lyrics.  At the same time, the prospect of a crowded show is less and less appealing.  I mean, how great are reserved seats?

Anyway, while on that run I was thinking of selling all my instruments.  This is a common theme while exercising, can someone put the connection together for me?  It always seems to go like this:

“I have too much stuff.  I can only play one thing at a time.  Really, how different do each of those 5 guitars sound?  That drum has just been sitting there.  Ugh, I paid too much for that pedal.  How many unused XLR Cables do I have?  Can I just strip and sell them for parts?”

Every time though, I think of keeping 2 things.  The Fender Stratocaster I bought when I won $1000 on a scratch off lottery ticket when I was 12….And my Elvin Jones kick drum. It was actually Elvin’s, not some signature model reissue.

I don’t even like the Strat, the attachment is purely sentimental, I’d love to pass it on one day.  But the Elvin drum is magical.

It’s a story worth telling.  Before I pass the next milestone birthday and my memories start to instantly deteriorate, I might as well document it.  Keep an eye out.

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