Finding Rhythm

I spent my morning blasting Foo Fighters for about four hours while I caught up on my online reading.

Fwiw, it seems as though many of my friends are musicians of some sort. I don’t mean that in a negative way in the least, even though it may come across that way. What I mean is, I don’t know any touring musicians. I’ve met a couple in one way or another, but I mean of the people I know, off the top of my head, probably ten or more play an instrument. And of that group, it seems most are drummers. I don’t know what, if anything, that says about me (or them) but it just struck me as odd.

I bring this up because late last night news broke of the sudden and unexpected passing of Taylor Hawkins, the drummer of Foo Fighters. Now, I don’t claim to be a huge fan of theirs, I like them, I listen to them from time to time, but I don’t for example have any real desire to see them in concert. This may seem odd to the casual reader among you, since I do consider myself an avid concertgoer, but I think due to their popularity if for no other reason, I’d consider them an arena rock band and that’s not an environment I particularly enjoy. Sometimes I get a little twitchy getting bounced into by random people (even in the Before Times) at the smaller venues I typically inhabit and the thought of getting crammed in with 40 or 50,000 other people just isn’t appealing to me.

But before I digress any further, let me try and return to my original point. Hawkins, 50, was on tour with the rest of the band in South America when he passed. As of this morning no other details were released, and I don’t know that anything relevant will be. Not that it should matter to any of us that aren’t related to him, you know? I mean, obviously, human nature being what it is, there is some curiosity, but what matters is a family lost their father/husband and a band lost their brother-in-arms and the rest of us should just leave it at that as far as I’m concerned. Maybe instead of letting our minds wander to some darker place, we should take some time to listen to someone who, as the Roots Music site No Depression wrote earlier today, was a drummer that was “ferocious, yet joyful” when he played and just be grateful we had the chance to listen to him for as long as we did while we send strength and light to those that loved him and will feel his loss for the rest of their days.

Rest In Peace Taylor Hawkins, and may we all find something in our lives that we perform in a ferocious, yet joyful manner.

I feel like I got a little preachy there, and I apologize if I did, but I don’t apologize for the sentiment. By and large, the general public doesn’t need to know details behind the demise of someone outside of our personal orbits. The exception being if there is some benefit to the greater populace. Here’s an example, kinda.

By this point in time we all know that purchases on over the counter meds like, for example Claritin D, are regulated by the federal government so that you cannot buy more than 9 grams, roughly 2 teaspoons, because some cracker ass cooked meth from it in his bathtub. Now, you might surmise that since a stimulant is made from this base substance that, in turn, Claritin D would also have somewhat of a stimulant effect on a person.

You might, but I didn’t last night.

We here in central North Carolina are in the early stages of The Pollening, as witnessed by the lovely yellow hue my truck has taken on. As a result, my sinuses are wreaking havoc on the rest of my head, with Claritin D being about the only thing bringing me any relief. Typically, I buy it in a package containing 15 capsules, each providing 24 hour relief. I take it in the morning and I’m good ish for the day. Except for the fact that, for whatever reason, the drug stores in my fair town were out of the 24 hour variety earlier this week. I don’t know why, but I found it odd that two different chains were both out. Idk, maybe it’s also cooking season, but this time I had to buy a package with 30 of the 12 hour capsules. I had been sticking with my regular morning pop, but last night I was feeling it in my head (this always reminds me of the old joke “Does your face hurt? Well, it’s killing me!”) so I took another 12 hour pill around 9:00, just before we went to bed. I did give brief pause to what the effects might include, but figured it’d wear off in an hour or so.

HAH!

I got roughly zero hours of sleep last night. But apparently if I ever need to make an overnight drive anywhere I can just pop an otc decongestant to get wherever I need. I don’t know what else to attribute it to, but what I do know is it sucked. I moved out to the couch around 11:00 and #LillyNO was gracious enough to share it with me. B² had to work this morning and I didn’t want to take a chance on waking her (B² that is, not Lilly) as I tossed and turned, literally all night. I should clarify, it’s not like I had the shakes or anything, I was just awake. Like unable to sleep. I finally started to feel a little tired around the time her alarm went off so I just made it official and got up to have a cup of coffee. Fortunately we don’t have any plans for the evening, so if I end up calling it a night in the immediate aftermath of dinner, so be it.

And I’ll be calling it a night without any decongestant.

Ok, last thing, this post has been accompanied by the last album from the late Justin Townes Earle; The Saint Of Lost Causes, and if you’ve never listened to it, you should. It’s wonderful. He was a wonderfully talented, troubled young man. And also gone too soon. Maybe that’s what drew me to that album this morning, I don’t know. But it was a good call.

Peace