Guitar picks as common as pennies

[butterflydreaming]

I walked up the hill -- a very big hill -- to take advantage of the calm weather. On Wednesday night, the moon was a paring of a crescent as it began the new lunar year, but I couldn't find it in the clouds tonight. My secondary reason for going up the hill was to pop into The Flying Lion. I haven't been there in maybe as much as a year. I tried to take irishninja there back in the summer, but they had already closed, and I think I've kind of resented TFL since then because I couldn't show off my knowledge of Cool Places to Get Good Coffee.

This time they weren't open yet, and I was 45 minutes early, but the door was open to let the band set up. There was no problem with me hanging out until 7 o'clock. While I waited I worked on a couple of poems (none of which satisfy me), watched the proprieter light the candles, and observed the band go through set up and sound check.

Next week my big brother turns 45. He's a civil engineer, the egghead/computer geek of the family, has always been popular (really), has always been in a band. He writes his own music; I think it's even pretty good.

When I was too little still for school, he used to give concerts in his room (made up like a club, including blacklight) with my other brothers. Guitar picks were as common as pennies to me. Not until a couple of days ago did it occur to me that most people wouldn't think of them that way.

The food is still reasonably priced and the espresso drinks are still above average. Y'all should come and hang out with me in the church basement one of these weekends.

We can even stay for the band.