AM radio became my favorite thing in the world today. It's ridiculous and cuts out all the time, so you get so many bizarre conversations cutting out, replaced with snippets of others. I'd been skimming through in the car with my friend, and we heard The Decemberists' "Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)" and decided to leave it tuned to that frequency. Suddenly, it switched over to some other broadcast, which was simply some old man with a deep raspy voice practically screaming, "Remember the Maine, to Hell with Spain! Remember the Maine, to Hell with Spain!" over and over again, before cutting back to the song about thirty seconds later. It was beautiful.
I also played way more guitar than any girl should. My fingers are a mess of skin falling off like I'm a leper or something. I actually played today until my fingers (well, just my ring finger) bled, and that's with fairly thin Ernie Ball strings and low action.
__________________
It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken
Perhaps they're better left unsung
|