I was the leader of a rock band on the verge of performing, but I had serious concerns about going onstage. Our set was so diverse that some songs didn't fit anywhere. If that wasn't bad enough, I knew I didn't have the calluses to survive a whole night of guitar playing. I'll just sing lead, I thought to myself. I can fake the guitar or just ditch it after my fingers give out.
Where does this stuff come from anyway?
The pieces presented themselves within the dream. Last week, I'd played my guitar for the first time in months, and my fingertips killed with minutes. The overly diverse playlist mirrors the eclectic song selections I've been downloading that I'm not sure how to arrange when I burn them to CD to back them up. And finally, I watched an episode of Made last week in which a hippy, folk-singing, outcast girl wanted to be made into a rockstar.
Yes, I confess. I don't watch it regularly, but I do sort of love Made. It's the only thing I might watch on MTV these days except CRiBs. Well, videos...do they show videos anymore?
My daughter loves Made. It's funny, her watching MTV.
ReplyDeleteI remember when it first came out, I was in college. Boy that was a long time ago!
I know what you mean. We didn't get MTV until we moved to a part of town that got cable when I was in middle school. A life before cable tv, go figure.
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