I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really just want to play guitar right now!
— Ty Martell (@denofmusic) July 25, 2013
Yeah.
I feel like this most of the day.
What?
I’m passionate about music.
I’m a passionate kind of guy.
I should have added another “really” in there
to convince people.
But Twitter won’t let me.
Guess what today is?
Now close that Solitaire
and send me some LOVE!
One of the things I learned about
being a father of a toddler,
is that you have to be quick on your toes
with regards to how your kid explores his own surroundings.
How they experiment with pretty much everything
they lay their hands upon.
I am talking about small odd things like:
How I found some toy cars inside the VCR.
A Yoyo inside my acoustic guitar.
Some of my guitar picks,
inside my slot loading DVD-ROM.
Buzz Lightyear inside the fridge.
Not to mention,
even more odd things like,
Drinking the Soy Sauce, from the bottle.
And, how he tried mixing Milk with Root Beer,
and him drinking it.
(This wouldn’t have bothered me,
if he didn’t say “Yummy” afterwards.)
You know,
stuff like that.
Although there’s one thing I just found out,
that Tyler experimented on,
which I must admit,
took me days to figure out.
Well,
for a while now,
I have been trying to figure out
why I was having problems with the sound on my Electric Guitar.
Some days I just couldn’t get any sound to come out,
and if I did,
it produces some kind of muffled but cracking noise.
Then today.
I figured it out.
It wasn’t my guitar
It was this —->
AHHH!!
The excitement of parenthood!!
Have you ever seen that TV ad about something
that says,
“In our company, you are not a number. You are a person.
So come in and be treated for what you are.”
“What a bunch of Bull!”
In these troubled times, nobody is a person anymore.
Nobody cares about who or what you are.
Everything nowadays is a number.
And that includes you and me.
When you are born you are under a file number to start with.
Didn’t everybody had a class number or student number at school?
Applying for a job doesn’t depend on who you are,
but the number of years of experience you had,
or how high the numbers on your transcript is.
I hope you know your employee number,
just in case you need to confirm your insurance benefits,
while they send you your insurance ID Number.
When you call your bank or credit cards to beg for a delay payment,
(okay maybe that’s just me)
Do they ask your name?
NO!
They ask for your 16 digit card number or reference number.
Am I the only one who gets those card PIN numbers, Bank account numbers, Access code numbers, Security pass numbers, all mixed up?
Anybody remember their family and friends’ home phone number,
cell phone number and office number?
(throw in a fax number if you want)
I don’t.
All I know is that my Mom is speed dial 1,
And my brother is 2.
How many times do you have to write your Drivers License number
on any application forms you fill out?
In Canada you have an SIN number for the “Insurance” of your “Social” belonging.
While,
in the States you need your SSN number for the “Security” of your “Social” owning.
And, may I add,
that you are “NOTHING” until these numbers are authentic, valid and confirmed.
Did you hear me?
N-O-T-H-I-N-G!!!!
You are also being judged on how much you earn,
Rate per hour and your Annual Income.
Then you spend sleepless nights thinking about,
Your retirement funds,
Your credit score rating,
Interest rates,
Your kids school tuitions,
Grocery budget,
Car payments,
A mortgage,
Carbs,
Calories,
Grams of fat,
Sugar,
Cholesterol,
Your weight,
Your dress size.
And when you die,
You don’t just die,
You are a “Statistic”.
See?
We are all just a bunch of numbers.
And to add insult to injury,
We are so used to it, that we don’t really care.
We are already numb in this fast paced world we live in.
As I ponder about this,
I tried to think of a place where I am not a number.
A place where I know I can be who or what I truly am.
And that place would be,
Church.
Somehow, this place gives you a feeling of calmness,
Amidst all of the troubles and chaos around you.
It’s the only place where you can complain and get everything off of your chest.
And management really listens to whatever you say.
It’s the only place where transactions do not include a number.
Well,
Except during collection time.
Then I am the 2 dollar guy,
at the back row,
near the exit.