Finding My Way

Strummed to a rhythm something like You Make Me Real, with an alternate, deep blues version with an intro something to the effect of Texas Flood.

I made your bed for you baby,
So come on and get in.
I made your bed for you baby,
So come on and get in.
Cause when you’re sleeping in my bed baby,
You know that’s when I win.

I was sorting through laundry and getting ready to take a shower today. My kitten (literally a cat) was watching me. When I'm in the shower she has a certain spot she lays and waits for me, right in front of the sink. I laid some towels down in that spot because I thought she'd enjoy that, and the lyrics above came to me.

I’m a desiring to play, but not aspiring to do so, blues fan. I own three guitars, but play not at all for reasons I understand but won’t justify.

Right now, given the way I am thinking about music, my guitars should be out.

So today I begin to make that happen, in two ways.

First, I wrote that which is written above. I have an understanding of music, and a mid-level ability to strum through some cords. I am beginning to hear inside my head more and more of the structure of a guitar solo, and I need to start exercising those sounds.

I have written other thoughts that have become songs, including a song called “you are where I want to be” that is along the lines of a good blues shuffle… maybe some Stevie Ray influence, I confess. I miss Stevie. And Jim, and Jimi. Kurt, Shannon and Layne too. And Buddy Holly. Boy did we lose a lot of great rock and roll the day the music died.

I need to put “you are where I want to be” to music and put myself on YouTube, at least strumming through it on the acoustic. That would be a major accomplishment, yet is completely achievable.


Second, I will pull out my acoustic and find that song (the one written above) at some level. Then tonight I will take my Ibanez to work with my Crate amp and my box full of pedals and stuff. My workplace is a manufacturing shop, which will be closed when I go there. I have a key, however, and permission from the owner to use his building to work on my car. I know he wouldn’t mind at all if I were to play my guitar there. In fact, he’d probably be darned glad he offered me that place for that purpose.

As long as I am there, I will set up (at least) a basic system and pick through something. Anything. I will find something fun for a while, and turn it up. It will be nice to not be confined with the electric, and should inspire me to play the acoustic more at home.

Now that I think about it, there’s a third, and perhaps most important step to take. Electra must go to the shop. She needs some TLC from someone who knows electronics better than I. What I have lost in time not playing I must accept, but to play I must. It is an outlet I know really will help me find my way.

So Electra will go with me, and she’ll stay locked up at work, because ultimately I should leave work one day and take her directly to the shop.

The name of the song I started this thought with - the one that I opened this blog post with - will be finding my way.


By the time Electra comes back from the shop, I need to at least have the basic structure of “you are where I want to be” down confidently, so I can start really working on it. That song has been in my head for at least a year now, and it's time.

Because I’m finding my way, baby…
Finding my way back to you…

Electra was a gift from my Brother and his wife. I can’t remember if it was for my Birthday or Christmas they surprised me with her, but I know that day changed my life, in a very good way. Nothing bad has ever come from the times I have played guitar, even when I was at my worst. And I know much good has come from those times, and that can only get better now that I’m not an addict.

As they gave me Electra, my brother told me “It doesn’t matter if you never play this guitar, but don’t ever get rid of it.” He knew I never would.

Keep reading, and you’ll understand just how much I am finding my way right now, Perhaps my thoughts might help you find your way too.

Or just keep reading about some guy who grew up in Cleveland but today living in Phoenix, who has interesting insights about things like “big labor” and “right to work” states (I’ve lived in both), music, some sports, and the weather. I moved here to The Valley of The Sun because of the weather as much as or more than any other reason, so you’re darned right I have an opinion about it.


In the near future, I need to write about “a little blow” and how it’s not something to be proud of. I’m a recovered meth addict, and I’ve done a fair share or cocaine too. “A little blow” is never a good thing, and I have the scars to prove it.

Then, I need to write about the intelligent consumption of marijuana, and why decriminalization should be looked at more seriously, re: private industry, which can be taxed without subsidy, regulated reasonably using drivers’ license as proof of privilege, et cetera.

It’s a delicate situation with regards to morality in the eyes of some, but as a person who has very good morals, I’m here to tell you that it’s all about responsibility, and in that respect we can discuss alcohol and text messing in the same manner yet those two things are legal. More later on this subject.

Today I finish here, and I thank you for your time. Let me know if you think I’m a complete idiot, if you find me fascinating, or if you just want to let me know you were here. I always appreciate hearing from you.

Have you followed me on Twitter yet? If you have, I thank you. If not, what ARE you waiting for?