Midnight Thoughts

Eleven twenty.

It’s been a difficult day. My visit with Heidi was good, but the rest was cold as a cadaver, and equally gray. My bass, arriving tomorrow afternoon, is finished in Ocean Turquoise, with a tortoise shell pickguard. Apparently the color didn’t sell well. People prefer black, white, red, or sunburst for an instrument color. It’s the conservative norm. Blue will never be as popular, but that’s how I got this bass on sale. I once owned a Translucent Teal Music Man bass that played and sounded great. The drawback was that the neck was finished with nothing but gun oil and looked ugly. It seemed like a gyp for a bass that cost me over $1300. I was never satisfied with it. I bought it in 1998 and kept it for only three years. I hope that turquoise and teal are not a curse on me. If so, then I’ll just live with it. Until the Fender arrives tomorrow, I’ll be nervous about it. It’s in Portland right now. An important point to remember is using your own ears to judge what sounds good. Euphony carries no dollar value.

One o’clock. There’s no substitute for knowledge, being informed. It’s always better when the passions don’t colorize our judgment and discretion. They have a way of snaring us in traps that are inextricable. Somehow I took my Aristotle lessons to heart as a junior in college. His Nicomachean Ethics ends with the question of whether it might be best to live the life of the lone philosopher. Since that time, I’ve watched a lot of relationships come together and crumble apart. None ever lasts forever. And the best unions I’ve seen have been intellectual friendships, the marriage of true minds. Finding them can be rare, but they do tend to last much longer. They also go much deeper than any carnal relationship. I know a person who once told me she was uncomfortable with depth and intimacy, and for that reason she wanted less to do with me. I told her that was fine with me, though it seemed peculiar to my mind. It still does, yet I realize that the true oddball is me.

Bah Humbug

Eleven o’clock. I was far too stressed out to care about Halloween, and now it’s over. Call me a selfish party pooper if you will. I don’t give a shit. Life is too short to spend it someone else’s way, and that’s what conformity is. I think Christmas is a stupid commercial thing too. The fascinating thing about it all is that the whole world does it, or at least knows about it. Is this the power of tradition? Or rather is there a truth behind the observance? If the onion has no center, then why bother to peel it? I don’t think holidays are something understood by reason. If they were, then we would probably dispense with them. I am all for the individual, always, and screw the collective. It is much better to be loved by one person intimately than by a strange impersonal ritual. I believe in deep connections, not shallow meaningless ones. You either crave intimacy or you run away from it. My big blue eyes bore right through you. Are you the type who needs popularity to consider yourself a success? Or instead can you bare your soul to another person and to the universe, pitching away all pretense? Humbug to Halloween and Christmas; after the show is over, what do you come home to? The world is cold and fearful. Look into your heart for meaning. And admit no impediment to the marriage of true minds.