"I Don’t Like Thursdays"
(To the tune of “I Don’t Like Mondays” by The Boomtown Rats)

The cortisone shot he got today
Is starting to take hold
And nobody’s gonna really give a damn
About the pain he says he’s in
And the boss doesn’t understand it
He thinks he’s filing worker’s comp
And he can see no relief
‘Cause there is no relief
What relief do you need to be shown?

Tell me why?
I don’t like Thursdays
Tell me why?
I don’t like Thursdays
Tell me why?
I don’t like Thursdays
I want to shoot
The surgeon down

The knife’s cutting edge is kept so clean
Before it dives into the pain
And the wife just sits in the waiting room
As the preacher walks the floor
Will he ever be able to function?
Not like he really could before
And he can see no relief
‘Cause there is no relief
What relief do you need to be shown?

Tell me why?
I don’t like Thursdays
Tell me why?
I don’t like Thursdays
Tell me why?
I don’t like Thursdays
I want to shoot
The surgeon down

Now he lies in the bed with his arm upright
As he tries to find the spot
That will let him rest without the pain
That shoots just like a dart
And the preacher slowly vacates
He’s done all that he can do here
And he can see no relief
‘Cause there is no relief
What relief do you need to be shown?

Tell me why?
I don’t like Thursdays
Tell me why?
I don’t like Thursdays
Tell me why?
I don’t like Thursdays
I want to shoot
The surgeon down

Now the wife just grades her stack of tests
And wonders what she taught
And the preacher leaves for another place
To save another soul
As the pain flows through his body
He wonders why he had the cut
And he can see no relief
‘Cause there is no relief
What relief do you need to be shown?

Tell me why?
I don’t like Thursdays
Tell me why?
I don’t like Thursdays
Tell me why?
I don’t like Thursdays
I want to shoot
The surgeon down

A Sip From The Ole Vinyard

It has been almost a month since I have written in this age......and it becomes a new age for this aging, old wizard. It has been a sort of a revival, combined with an evolution of the mind and my own kindred spirits.

And the spirits wash over me in a shower of rejuvenation. New air flows through my lungs with no dams to hold back the freedom to exhale.....and enjoy. During this renaissance (if you allow me to choose that term for my remodeling), I have experienced the hell that The Beatles (The ancient Wise Ones) spoke of in their tune "Cold Turkey".

Easy? No.

By choice? Yes.

Recovered? Never.

As Mr. Baggins wrote...."The Road Goes Ever On"....and so it does.

Through the turmoil of changing the daily ways of living, I struggled through every damned minute of the day. In time, it eased.....but I knew that for only a 10 minute journey down the Turnpike, I could rejuvenate my body back to a comfort that was afforded me for over two decades.

"No".

I said "No....damnit, NO!"

This time I wanted it and needed it. The changes are reflected in my diary on another page....you can find it, if you search.

I now walk among my gardens and can smell their fragrance...even in Winter. There are aromas that surround my body and mind that I thought had left me forever......they have returned. Although they are of the ancient ruins and have remained constant and unchanging...they are new to this aged body. Rainbows of flavors and scents, which I had convinced myself had left this world, flow through my new found senses.

I was wrong.

They were all were around and awaiting my return....just hidden from my senses......knowing that, in time, my soul would gain control....and walk the path meant for my feet.

I have returned!

Though my feet are uncalloused, they longed for the woods of old....and the memories these feet and hands longed for are returning........stop and smell the flowers.....you really don't know what you've missed until you left the path.

I left that path........and I don't expect to return. "In fact....I intend NOT too!"

And so it was......Bilbo left the Shire forever..........

Misty Mountains?

Ovation?

Takamine?

Yamaha?

It's all music.......just pluck the strings......and sing!