Thursday, December 22, 2011

28 years old, despite my best efforts

Well I did it. I outlived Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin and most recently, Amy Winehouse. The 27 club is no longer a threat. Yay me!

It wasn't easy saying no to all those drugs and late-night partying. But I did...and I lived. Despite my very edgy and death-inviting lifestyle, of course. There were the times I operated a moving vehicle while suddenly being overcome by a blinding migraine. Times I didn't clear all of the snow and frost off of the car windows and decided to take it out for a spin anyway. The times I pet strange and possibly violent dogs. The time I used Craigslist to find and rent a house. The time I considered renting a particular house that ended up being on the very block of a double homicide/suicide just days later. The times I drank hormone-infused milk and ate non-organic potato chips. The time my friends Michaela, Beth and her husband Mark had dinner at a tavern nestled in the Rockies and spent the whole time laughing loudly and unashamedly at the drunk people. (We probably should have at least gotten beat up for that or something...isn't that how bars in mountainous regions work?).

Yep, I did all this and lived to blog about it. But I'd say the one thing that really threatened to give me permanent 27 club status, was the restrung right-handed guitar I played in high school.

I'm a leftie. Have been all my life. I'm also a music enthusiast. Have been for a good chunk of my life. Somewhere around my 14th year, I was gifted a right-handed Yamaha. We made it work by restringing it and the rest is history. It's what I used to learn all of my mad guitar skills.

Now despite how embarrassing it was to have this "wrong" guitar (I was clearly unaware of its cool factor), I took it out in public, performing in churches and at coffeehouses in the area. And it stayed with me for about four years, until my grandma gave me enough graduation money to buy a left-handed Ibanez.

For all of you struggling to find the point to all this, Cobain was known for his backwards-strung acoustic. Hendrix, for his backwards-strung Stratocaster. And they both died in their 27th year.

Me? I lived! I made it! And I'd like to believe that it was because I bought that Ibanez in the nick of time...
That, and I never became a drugged up rock star.

One of the two.

1 comment:

  1. My Great Ah-Ha year was 44. The age F. Scott stepped out to that Big Speakeasy in the Sky. Granted, he may not be the author's author, but he was an icon to me in those tender 20s-mid 30s when I still felt life could be that romantic. So seeing myself surpass an early style-model was a bit unreal Not to mention my bypass surgery at 45, after portending for years that I would be the one to unexpectedly keel over at a cocktail party at that age. Coincidental or prophetic?