Oh my goodness. I can not stop drinking alcohol. This is a new-ish thing for me. Yes, of course I’ve always drank alcohol, but not like I am right now. The past few weeks I’ve had multiple days where I wake up and open a beer before I even eat food. Anyone who knows me well knows that I usually insist on eating food before drinking, and I’m not typically a day drinker. But apparently not anymore.
I am in the process of figuring out when I can lineup therapy with my new work schedule.
I normally don’t really drink on work nights, but this week I drank both nights before working my brand new job. I drank whiskey, alone, the night before starting my new job. I really don’t know why I am doing this. I hope I quit soon, and replace it with exercise, like I typically do. (Not that I don’t walk miles on the city streets each week.)
I am listening to a “this day is history” Yonder Mountain String Band show – 03/29/2001. For some reason, I keep thinking about Jeff Austin during this pandemic; kind of in a morbid way. I think about how he ended his life before any of this happened, and wonder how he would be holding up if he were with us today.
This is a very scary time for live performers. I do think then when all this passes more people will be going to concerts than ever before, but I know a lot of musicians are out of work and income right now. It is all too easy for the mental health to go downhill during times like these. I feel very grateful to have started a new job, and that it’s outside. I am a blessed human.
On this 3/29/01 Yonder show they cover Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson’s “Good Hearted Woman”, and man, does that song make my life come together for me. I could write a book. And I’m going to.
Fun fact: Jeff Austin says at the beginning of the song, “You know, Waylon and Willie wrote this song one night down in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where we’re going to be on Saturday, when they were drunk at a bar.”
An introduction to the significance of this song in my life is this: In 2014 the guy I met and fell for at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival 2012 let me car-sit his 2001 Subaru Outback for six months because I didn’t have a car and he wasn’t in the country or using it. The only condition was that I had to learn how to drive stick.
The car owner technically gave me one lesson driving stick, but he was fucked up, and we were in Aspen going down a hill so the car was rolling on its own. He said I was doing a great job and trusted me to keep his car.
I got the car to my apartment with the help of a friend, but did not know how to operate it. At first, I tried to learn on my own. I watched some YouTube videos, printed out instructions and attempted to drive the car down the block. I somehow made it to the stop sign, but couldn’t go any further. A car pulled up behind me and asked if I needed help. I embarrassingly admitted that I was teaching myself to drive stick and it wasn’t going so well. A girl jumped out of the passenger seat and parked it for me.
After that incident I enlisted a friend to give me a lesson in driving stick at City Park in Denver (thanks, Austin P!). Then I practiced driving on my own and went around the blocks of Five Points over and over.
When I got comfortable enough driving forward, I practiced going in reverse in a nearby church parking lot. The entire time I practiced driving, I listened to Waylong Jennings and Willie Nelson’s version of “Good Hearted Woman” on repeat in the car because that was what tape was in the tape deck. I rewound the song and listened to it continuously.
After enough practice I was able to drive the car to and from work, and then I drove it all over the greater Denver area. I now own this car, but I’ll save that story for the book. It currently needs to be registered and insured, but I own it. Call it sentimental value.
The car’s original name is Sparkle, but to me it’s known as the Guatemobile.
That’s all I’ve got for ya right now.
…If there’s still ramblin’ in the rambler let him go!
Rocky Mountain Ramblings 