Getting the Passion Back - Part 1 (Who Let the Air Out?)

Writing this brought back memories of the Kinks' "Around the Dial."  One of our DJs is missing. . . . I've been around the dial so many times, but you're not there. . . .  Did anybody miss us like Ray Davies missed his favorite DJ?

Neglecting a blog sure is easy.  A couple of weeks can get by in a blink of an eye.  The keyboard to the MacBook might as well be growing hair.  For two weeks, it certainly had no use for creating anything for this blog. 

After unloading from the Sunday Surf Party and CD Release, the Lava Pups seemed to shift to a back burner of the stove on which my life cooks.  The air was out of my desire-to-make-music balloon.  The Ocean Turquoise Jazzmaster just sat in its case.  Even though it usually is treated with loving care, the sweat marks from the Capitol Bowl were not wiped away or rubbed out.  Amp, reverb unit, cords, cymbals, and merchandise tub all were stacked behind a couch in the Doghouse.

No single factor brought about this loss of interest.  A few contributors come quickly to mind. 

First, the Sunday Surf Party did not have the vibe for which I had hoped.  Sure, it was a success.  We did everything that we could to make it a success.  But it was not an overwhelming success.  It certainly did not surpass the previous Capitol Bowl party in either spirit, audience participation, or overall fun.  Of course, that earlier event set an exceedingly high bar.

Oh, yeah, unreasonable expectations lead to disappointment.  No matter how many times you may recite that, disappointment does not vanish completely.  And we had no photos or recording leaving us at the mercy of our memories.

Second, despite my old age, I went back to school to take a course in 2D animation.  This was sparked by something about animated posters.  For the most part young folks made up the class.  Early in the semester, the 30-something professor said to me, “I find that people your age have problems with dexterity and seeing.”  He then demonstrated -- in front of the entire class -- how to make images on the computer screen larger.  Obviously, for the sight-impaired old people like me.

People my age!  Dexterity!  I may not be facile with “click, click, see how easy that was.”  But I am the -- well, sort of, “the” -- lead guitarist for a surf band and have put together and edited sound tracks in Garageband.  Additional thoughts also hit me, “Should I even endure such insults?  I have more schooling at more prestigious universities than the professor and done more in my lifetime than he probably will.  What does he know from life?”

Concluding that a few insults should not stand in the way of learning and being a glutton for punishment, I did not drop the class.  That meant that our “final” project was due shortly after the Sunday Surf Party.

Third, Paul is moving five plus hours away.  A couple of weeks before the Capitol Bowl event, Paul announced, “Cheri and I have made an offer on a house in Ferndale.  It’s our dream house.”  My response was heart-felt, “That’s wonderful.  I hope that you get it.”  I had heard of Ferndale but had no idea where it is.  So, I asked, “Where’s Ferndale?”  Paul replied, “Up the coast south of Eureka.”  South of Eureka!  He would be closer timewise in L.A.

As Paul, Don, and Lori were leaving the Capitol Bowl parking lot in the Pyrovan, the thought of losing the close proximity of a teacher, collaborator, and friend finally struck me.  I remembered something that I read recently about live performances.  “Treat each performance like it is your last.”  Was the Sunday Surf Party and CD Release going to be the last for the Lava Pups?

All and all, the air rushed out of my desire-to-make-music balloon.  Simultaneously, my “final” project for 2D animation tapped into whatever creative juices that might be flowing.  Yeah, that meant some of my passions seemed to be gone.  Music and this blog fell into neglect.

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