Saying Bye-bye to the Old Boredom Blues

In my last post, I spoke of being at a crossroad, wondering which way I should go, what can I do to give myself some direction, some purpose, a little more satisfaction than what I currently feel about myself.  I am tired of the earworm that keeps looping in the background of my life, “I can’t get no… satisfaction… I try, and I try… but I can’t get no… SATISFACTION”!  Crescendo, cymbals, drum solo spazz out, bam!  I have been nursing a mega cup of dissatisfaction lately, succumbing to and venting over some of the realities and limitations that MS has brought my way.  I have to a certain degree given in to such a fate, doing a lot of sleeping after having sat up most of the night watching TV, and waking up only to watch more TV.  I do the daily crossword in the newspaper, and read the paper afterwards, and I play a lot of online Scrabble, currently touting over five million, two hundred something points.  I get Jalen to help me with fixing us some lunch and preparing dinner, and I make sure that he does a little reading Mondays-Fridays, building on the outside reading schedule that he maintained during the past school year.  He does the same amount of reading, 2.5 hours/week, but I don’t bother him to read on the weekends, so he feels like we have compromised, heh, heh.  Plus, he knows that is his ticket to get outside to play or visit his friends, so we have had no reading drama this summer.  In fact, he is really enjoying the book I got him for his birthday, The Harlem Hellfighters, by Max Brooks (son of Mel Brooks).  It’s historical fiction, a graphic novel in format that tells the experiences of black soldiers in France during WWI, and is very well done, in the same caliber of Art Spiegelmann’s graphic novel about the Holocaust of WWII, Maus.  I am glad that he likes it and finds the story interesting.  This summer has been low key and lazy for sure, and, lounging in endless lethargy, I have begun to bore myself. 

My dad wrote me a beautiful letter a couple of weeks ago, reminding me that I still have a few things yet to contribute to the world.  He told me not to be discouraged, to say my prayers, and to talk to God.  “Be still and listen to Him.  He will hear you and guide you”.  My dad told me that sometimes He will give you an answer that you may not want to hear, but it will be the truth and you should listen.  God always answers prayer, by and by.   Good old dad.  He is such a wonderful man—thoughtful, practical, enduring, spiritual, always loving without fail.  I have always thought that I get my literary acumen from my mother, but my dad is a powerful writer, too.  He knows exactly how to string words together to convey his thoughts, and is very thoughtful in his correspondence and conversations. I always learn much from him, and know that my literary gift is entwined just as much with his genes as it is with my mom’s.  After reading his letter, I have begun to feel a lot better; my spirit has somewhat been lifted to a happier place, especially after all of the birthday love I received.

My dad is also full of surprises.  July 27^th was Jalen’s birthday, the big 13, which means he now officially can be called “the teenager” (shout out here to my Aunt Lethia, who can really lay on saying that phrase; family members know what I mean, lol).  We had a family cookout and birthday party in his honor, so Jordan and Zuri were here, too.  Jordan announced, “Mom.  I’ve got a surprise for you!”  I had been preoccupied with making sure Jalen had a fun party, even down to the Party Cake ice cream he requested (which he and Duke ate all of, an entire ½ gallon, in less than a day!), and wasn’t expecting anything, so my face lit up like a Christmas tree as he walked in with a keyboard!  It belonged to my mom, and had been sitting in the closet back home.  “Right on time, Dad”, because it was like an answered prayer as to what I can do while at the crossroad.  Unlike playing the guitar, which I can’t do yet, I know how to play the piano.  I have not played in years, not even very much when I go home to see my dad, but I took formal lessons from the age of seven until seventeen, when I graduated from high school.   It’s not a full keyboard but it’s a nice one, with a good sound and a lot of bells and whistles to play around with.  The piano sound is really nice, and I started playing with it immediately.  Jordan didn’t bring me any of my music books, which is just fine with me as I will definitely know where they are, so I started trying to pick out something from memory.   I do not play by ear, something I hope to learn how to do someday (perhaps if I get off of my tuchas and learn to play my guitar I’ll be able to), but those many years of music theory and practicing scales do not fade into oblivion.  Pieces of practice, practice, practice admonishments somehow permeate the musical soul and psyche.  I was proud of myself as I was able to pick out and play “Happy Birthday” to accompany us singing to Jalen that afternoon.  I’m not talking any piddly one finger action, either.  I’m talking full chords and triads, and a couple of gospel-like seven chords at the end.  I am still very rusty, but when I tried to play the song again today, there was less hesitation in my fingers. 

Today when I practiced, I warmed up with a little “Happy Birthday”, and then messed around with trying to remember the chorus of “How I Got Over”, ala Aretha Franklin.  I also started working on playing “What a Friend We Have in Jesus”, because these are the songs I grew up playing and singing in church, and they are kind of ingrained in me.  I love hymns, spirituals, and old-fashioned gospel sheet music songs.  Such music takes me back to my Baptist roots, back to Penn Avenue and remembering my Grandma Jordan, back to Mount Zion and Sunday School, and riding to church picnics at Kerr Lake on the back of Mr. Boyd’s old farm truck packed with all of us kids, back to Greater Lovely Hill and getting baptized in the pond down the road, singing in the Junior Choir, playing piano and organ, homecoming outside with the sawhorse-made serving tables when everyone brought their favorite dishes to share and everyone found somewhere to sit, maybe even on the back of a pick-up truck…  Oh the joy that floods my soul!  (A reference to “He Touched Me”, yet another favorite song in the key of F, my  favorite key in which to play, only one flat and a soulful sound that fits most of the churches that I grew up in).

I did a little internet surfing yesterday on Amazon, and looked up some of the hymnals I used to play from.  I told you, I don’t play by ear; I am “a slave to the page” when it comes to playing piano.  I read and interpret music, so I need some notes to look at while I play.  I found all three that I was looking for: The New National Baptist Hymnal (“the red book”), Songs of Zion, a paperback collection of hymns and gospel, and Lift Every Voice and Sing II, both of the latter two I used when I played for a predominantly African-American Lutheran church in Durham, Abiding Savior.  I really hate that I lost touch with the people I met in that church.  Even though I am Baptist, I really felt at home there and was abundantly embraced by its members, and also grew tremendously in my faith.  When Jordan was born, he was adopted as the “choir baby”, as he was usually sitting with someone in the choir, having been stolen away from Duke most of the time, or on those occasional Sundays when I came alone.  I tried to let him sit near me in his baby carrier and he was mostly fine and content, but I would look around during the opening hymn and he was gone, being rocked in somebody’s arms.  Some Sundays he would make it all around the church, hugged and cuddled throughout the whole service.  Agape love is beautiful!  With all of these pleasant memories, how could I not go back to my church roots for peace of mind?  Even though I want all three books right now, I have decided to be “fiscally responsible” like the kids in the Kmart back to school commercial, and just order them one book at the time, starting with Songs of Zion, which has a nice selection of hymns, and is also the least expensive.  Then I will save up and get the other two.  Gotta stay practical and grounded so that I can stick to my plan.

I am still at a crossroad, but I now think I will have a better time as I begin the journey down the road.  I have been reading the beginning of my drawing manual, and plan to get me some pencils (4H, HB, and 4B are the basics, I’ve learned), and art gum this weekend.  I decided to put these purchases off to help ensure Jalen had a happy birthday (and he did!).  I already have an 11 x 14 sketch journal, a good size for me to hold, brand new, still in the bag, so I’m ready.  Armed with my keyboard and my sketch journal, I am ready to start filling up my days a little bit more creatively, with songs and doodles, which already is starting out as fun.  Bye-bye, old boredom blues.  Maybe now I can get a little “satisfaction”.  J