ODY: Day 6

It was the perfect day for the mid-life Guitarzan, the ol’ dog and his year for new trickiness, the Old Man and the C (guess I’ll have to learn that chord), to play and play. (Wait a minute. Is there such a thing as a C chord? What do I know?) The bride had cleared town, the holy little terror had gone with her, and 24 hours of bachelorhood beckoned. The Crossroads! Me and My Guitar (Always in the Same Room). Time to stretch it out.

Except that I forgot. Got myself home at a decent hour from dinner with the Newlyweds, didn’t remember my little curvy friend Dégas waiting upstairs in the study, switched on Saturday Night at the Movies. (God bless TV Ontario. TVOKids is about all we’ll let the little guy watch, but I can’t believe how little I’ve watched this movie-lover’s — and commercial-hater’s — dream. I’ve seen Chariots of Fire before, but it’s one of the few really good jock movies. I’d been moaning to the Newlyweds and their friends about how sports movies always irritated me (That guy’s no ballplayer! He wouldn’t say that! Oh, come on!) when Buddy jumped into my discourse: “Wait, what about Field of Dreams? Bull Durham? Huh?” Couldn’t even argue. Stopped me cold. I sat corrected.) So you’ll understand that when Chariots was just about to start, and the Midnight WatchGirl was out of town, well, shoot, I was running! (Standing, actually. But that’s almost like motion.) I liked it. I enjoy watching running. And the post-film interviews. And the first ten minutes of a quirkily American 1930-something version of Anna Karenina. And I digress now nearly as long as I digressed then, well past the witching hour. What about the guitar?!

The (sort of) good news is that I put in nearly half a wee-hours hour on the guitar, since there were no sleepers to disturb. A good thing about messing around on a guitar: it’s easier to fulfil a daily commitment to it than, say, remembering to fit in a workout or a meditation session when the eyes are bleary and the flesh is weak. And I did! I’ve cheated on the diary entry by sleeping first, but in my aimless/restless way, I didn’t mind keeping that little promise at all. Six in a row. The Streak lives!