God talks to people everyday

I’m not sure what happened at about 3:00 this afternoon, but I got hit with a taste for wine.  I haven’t been drinking much lately thanks to a four day bender a few weeks ago.  That being the case, I decided to indulge.  Also, I t’s rotten weather and I’d rather be riding, but I can’t.  So why not enjoy a tasty glass of vino.


Also, think of this as a “let’s celebrate the new job” and “let’s celebrate leaving the old job” glass of wine.  All-in-all, I want it, I deserve it and doggone it, I’m gonna have it.

Here’s the thing…. I’m not sure God wants me to have a glass of wine right now.  You see, God was talking to me.

I know… I know.  Look… There were no voices in my head.  Plus I’m not entirely convinced of the whole “God” thing anyhow.  But I do believe that someone or something was talking to me.   Call it fate or whatever… for the purposes of this post, I’ll call it God.

So I left work with a hankering for a big fat glass of red wine.  Malbec if I’m going to be specific.  There’s a wine place just down the street from my building.  I walk past it every day.  I thought “this will be great!  I can get my wine on the way to my car!”  I walk in and notice an abundance of bottles and a distinct lack of seating.  Nuts… The place was a wine shop… Not a wine bar.

Fortunately, I have THE INTERNET.  I fired up Yelp and looked up “wine bars”.  I kid you not.  There was a wine bar directly behind where I was standing!  God spoke to me again.

C’MON MAN!  They had wine in the bible!  What’s your deal?  Fine… I work on the capital square in Madison, WI.  There’s nothing if not places to drink.  Back to Yelp and I choose the next closest place that lists themselves as a wine bar.  I know the place as more of a fancy beer joint, but now I’m on a mission.

I start making my way there and….

The level of road (and sidewalk) construction is downright hilarious.  Someone thought it would be a great idea to destroy one entire quarter of the capital square.  There was a big sign saying “businesses still open” but getting there was a huge pain.

At this point, it’s clear that God didn’t want me to have a glass of wine.  God was talking to me.  I could have had an Old Fashioned.

I could have had any number of other beers and/or cocktails with no problem at all.  It was just that I wanted wine and God put up obstacle after obstacle.

But I didn’t listen.
And now I think I’ll have another one.

Poetry and Song Lyrics

Many years ago I knew a man named Horace.  He was the first person I knew that was really a poet.  He worked with me in customer support, but would write poetry as a form of meditation or therapy.  He was kind enough to share some with me.  Sadly, I don’t recall the poem itself, but I do recall being very moved.

Lately, I’ve been trying to get into country music.  I have been a big fan of progressive rock and classic rock for many years but I’m getting bored with it.  At the local dive bars where I like to hang out, they’re all country, all the time.  I figured I’d start to expand my horizons and see if I could get some of it to stick.

There are many country songs I really, really like.  They tend to be the more “poppy, mainstream” country songs.  I’ve already brought up Brothers Osborne as one of my favorites.  I also enjoy Chris Stapleton and Eric Paslay.

I’ve noticed (unshockingly) a few themes.  First of all, in my estimation, more than 60% of the songs I hear sound the same.  The same beat, the same key, the same tonal intonations of the singers (male or female).  I mean they’re all just interchangeable.  It’s pretty maddening.

There’s also the eye-rollingly predictable stereotypes of:

  • Friday night
  • Drinking beer
  • Freedom
  • Fishing
  • My favorite bar

Gimme a break.  Whatever… people love it.  The thing that I’ve noticed that I wonder about though is the focus on the pickup truck.

Naturally, because of course.  But why?  I expect that it has a lot to do with the fact that pickup trucks are cheap.  Tons and tons of people in little towns all over America can buy pickup trucks.  They’re the common denominator.

But that got me thinking… how come there are no country songs about motorcycles?  Bikes are cheap and plentiful.  Maybe it’s Harley bias or maybe it’s because trucks are more utilitarian than bikes.

I bought a few books recently that are all motorcycle poetry or motorcycle haikus. Haikus don’t really lend themselves to song lyrics, but I expect that some of the poems in that book could be turned into songs.

A lot of the poems in there seem like they were written by first graders.  Very elementary structure and scheme.  Others are more unpredictable.  Many are actually very moving.

Maybe this is my chance!  Maybe I’ll start writing songs about the open road and my two wheeled steed.  Living a life unconstrained by rules and policies, dependent on myself.  Painting those mental pictures that transport people to another place only using words.

More likely, I’ll just sleep, eat, ride, eat, ride, sleep until I can’t ride anymore.



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