Why'd you ever let it go that far
Drunken Angel
How do we get so far from where we’re supposed to be? Maybe only by making wrong turns will we figure out where the right place is.
I’ve been learning to play the guitar for less than a year. But already when things aren’t going right, when things are unsettled, one of the best places for me to be is clinging to the neck of my guitar. Holding the body close.
My good buddy, Baxter, who fights more demons on a daily basis than any of us could imagine, found me drifting, more dead than alive, face down in the water. What he was doing that far from shore is a good question. He handed me a vintage Burns six-string guitar, saying she was meant for me. Keep it, he said. And I clung to her just like I was, a drowning man, a man thrown overboard and left for dead, who clings to a piece of flotsam in the big empty ocean and just prays.
After awhile, I named her Lulu, in honor of the singer/songwriter who wails the words that opens this blog. Lucinda Williams.
As you can see, Lulu is missing some parts. I guess you could say the same thing about me. She’s missing the plate that covers the bridge. And her twang bar. I don’t know what I’m missing, but I can feel their absence. Despite her flaws, I think Lulu is beautiful. Thankfully, there are some people who think the same about me.
There are nights when heaven is sitting trying to figure out the smoothest way for the fingers on my left hand to go from D to A to G and back to D. Now I’m leaving Normal and heading for Who Knows Where. Still haven’t figured it out yet.
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