Daybreak. Coffee. The Big Two

My friend, Slim Randles is back again as Wednesday's Guest. This essay is a bit different from most of his others that are laced with lots of humor. This one is laced with a bit of homespun philosophy. I like it, and hope you do, too. Since we are not down at the Mule Barn where coffee is served in industrial-sized mugs, maybe you will join me in a cup of tea. I promise it has enough caffeine to stir the old brain muscles into wakefulness.

While Slim is entertaining us here, I am over at The Blood Red Pencil blog today, with the inside story about Untreed Reads. Never heard of that publisher? Here's your chance to find out a bit about them. Good folks there.

There’s something so satisfying about getting out of bed when the world is still dark and quiet and resting. Making the coffee gives us time to scratch and think. Well, scratch, anyway. Most of that thinking will start after about the third cup.

But it’s a quiet time. A private time. When the world is dark, and there isn’t yet a hint of pink over the eastern mountains, it’s very good. We can relax. No one is expecting anything from us right now. Our guilt can take some time off, and we can listen to music or work a crossword puzzle or turn on the TV and watch the weather guy discuss millibars and troughs.

Sunrise at my little piece of Heaven

Soon enough, we’ll have to be out there living for others: our bosses, our customers, our animals, our fields. But right now no one needs us except the dog, and she does well on kibbles and an occasional drive-by ear rumple.

We can look out the window at the eastern glow and wonder what will happen in the hours until our world turns dark again. People will be born and people will die. People will win honors and people will go to jail. People will create things today that live past them and people will disappear forever. People will write about these things and other people will read about these things.

And then the world will go dark and dormant on us again and we’ll think about what happened in our tiny portion of this huge moving amalgam and hopefully we’ll sleep easily tonight. Then, when we arise tomorrow and head for the coffee pot, we can think about what happened today, and how it has made us slightly different for taking on the next tomorrow.

Come to us, daylight. Bring us the new day. But do it gently, please, and slowly enough for one more cup.
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If you like what Slim shares here, you will enjoy his books. Check out his author page on Amazon if you have a moment. His books are a delight, and they make perfect gifts for any occasion,

In order to provide these columns for free and still buy groceries, Slim has sponsors, and the current sponsor is Beltone Hearing Aids,  so we do have to do this little ad:

Beethoven never heard his Ninth Symphony, but you can. It begins with a free hearing test. Beltone.  1-866-867-8700.

One Man's Art is Another Man's...

Please help me welcome Slim Randles as Wednesday's Guest this week. I laughed when I read this story from the Mule Barn truck stop. Dud's decision to switch from writing reminded me of the college professor who suggested I take up basket weaving as a creative outlet and forget about being a writer. He was not impressed with my work. However, I am quite impressed with Slim's work. He always brings a smile. This morning I have coffee and shortbread cookies for all. Enjoy.... 

Photo courtesy of The Comfort of Cooking - check the site for the recipe

If you ask Dud Campbell, it’s all right to take a break from the arts now and then. Well …  since the arts are a part of a person, that’s not quite right. All right, it’s okay to switch arts now and then. Dud had pretty much beaten himself to death trying to fathom what to do in the novel about the duchess and truck driver, and it had left him gasping for ideas.

So he went back heavily to his accordion.

From the early lessons of squeaking and squawking and driving most of the cockroaches out of the neighborhood, Dud’s playing had progressed to the point where people actually smiled when they discussed it.

When the cold weather hit, Dud would hurry home from work and pick up the squeeze box and work diligently on it. Polkas and waltzes, primarily. A few of the easier Cajun tunes, too. He concentrated on those left-hand exercises, of course, where hitting the exact right little black bass button every time is a challenge known by all stomach Steinway artistes.

He had told the guys down at the world dilemma think tank (aka the philosophy counter at the Mule Barn truck stop) that he was ready to go out that weekend and squeeze out some money at a local night spot with his music.

Monday morning, Dud pulled in to the counter and flipped his cup back to the upright and fillable position.

“Well?” said Doc.

“Well what?”

“How did it go? The music. The accordion. Lady of Spain out on the town. You know?”

Dud just shrugged and threw some sugar into the coffee.

“Did you make money playing your accordion?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” Dud said, glumly.

“So it was a success, right?”

“Well, not … entirely.”

“Why not?”

“Went down to the Covered Wagon Saturday night. They had a good crowd in there. Played some waltzes and a few polkas to get the crowd warmed up. You know Bill? The owner?”

We nodded.

“He gave me $20 to go play somewhere else.”

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If you like what Slim shares here, you would enjoy his books. Check out his author page on Amazon if you have a moment. His books are a delight. 

Slim has sponsors for all of his columns, and this month it is Beltone Hearing Aids,  so we do have to do this little ad: 
How do you control your feet if you can’t even hear the beat? The hearing test is free. Beltone.  1-866-867-8700.