Somehow, people have found out about my construction skills. I thought I had kept them hidden. It was not intentional but just a slip of mind. I was an apprentice at one time to make some extra money. It all went into my blues collection! Ha! When I first got into the blues, I couldn’t get enough of Stevie Ray Vaughan or B.B. King. At that time, people were buying CDs and not just downloading music online from iTunes. I like having the physical presence of these “albums” on my shelf. It has been growing steadily even though I have given up my ambitions. I still know how to wield a tool or two. I have a great set in the garage. Tools never wear out!

It was therefore no surprise when a friend asked me to help him remodel his bathroom. He knew it would take a couple of weekends, but I didn’t know that he had a special surprise for me in mind. With or without compensation, I was happy to help a friend and exhume my former skills. It didn’t take long to get the knack back. I was in my prime once again. In fact, I could add “bathroom remodeler” to my resume.

I think we are getting good results. It is all about putting in the best fixtures: a white porcelain tub big enough for any guy over six feet tall. The toilet has to be low flow if you have any sort of conscience. In new construction, this type of unit is required. One of the most enjoyable jobs is selecting the faucets. I immediately went to the American Standard page on Kitchen Faucet Depot (https://www.kitchenfaucetdepot.net/american-standard-faucet-brand-review/) due to the variety of styles at every price point. My friend selected something in between so he would have quality, durability and reliability without breaking the bank. Having me help saved him a bundle but his choice was perfect for his style of home. A faucet these days is practically for life. They are so well made and feature the finest materials. The chrome shine never tarnishes. Water flow is regulated, just like the toilet, so you are right on track as an environmentalist. Give him a pat on the back!

He chose American Standard for the tub and sink so they would match. Décor is of primary importance for resale, or so they say. It is also vital for those who reside in the home and use the facilities. In my own bathroom, I must twist hard on the knobs to turn them on or off.  When I loosen them, they leak. It is a no-win situation. I would love to make an upgrade. I know my friend would be first in line to help. I also have water conservation on my mind. Speaking of faucets, who wouldn’t want a new touchless model in the kitchen. They are so cool. They appeal to someone who has been struggling with tight knobs for years.

The blues are my game. A few nights ago, I went to a favorite club and came home smelling like an ashtray. This has happened before.  My girlfriend was disgusted and didn’t hide her loathing. This should have been a warning, but frankly I was guilty.  The smoke in the club is always intense, but I had been sitting for hours next to a heavy smoker and the odor permeated my clothes and hair. I had a great seat and didn’t dare get up and lose it to another. Too bad about the smell because the music was divine. I had really wanted to hear this band and nothing was going to challenge my enjoyment. I had a great time smoke-filled room and all and only one regret. My favorite concert t-shirt reeked. It was obvious that it had a story to tell.  It is all about the blues for me and I needed to remedy the situation by finding a way to remove smoke odor from clothing. It isn’t easy when there is a strong lingering smell. I did what I had done before many times. It has become a regular protocol. I offer it to you in case you find yourself in a similar smoky boat.

I had given up hope that air out something will cure it of any smoke exposure. I washed the shirt the next day and promised my girlfriend to let her test it first before I put it on again. I ran it through a hot cycle with plenty of soap even though I was afraid it would shrink, a real risk that has destroyed many a good shirt. Cold water doesn’t cut it. In the dryer, I also added a deodorizing sheet containing a eucalyptus scent. I bought it in the drugstore at the recommendation of one of the clerks. I gave my vintage garment a double whammy treatment. I was afraid it would smell like a tree afterward, but it didn’t. It was very subtle and dissipated when it reached the air. My girlfriend gave her reluctant approval and off I went. After that, every time I mentioned going to a club where they smoked (they all do), she frowned. Why was I seeing someone with such a sensitive nose? I need to think this dilemma over and come to a decision. The blues versus the woman I love. Is there even a question?

The next time I went to that particular club, I wore a different shirt, one I could throw away if it didn’t respond to my deodorizing techniques. I am soon going to run out of options as my concert tees are off limits. I consider them to be souvenirs and collectors’ items. Because of this new girlfriend, I was bound to lose a lot of good t-shirts. If I wanted to keep her in my life, I would stock up on cheap ones at Costco.

I am on a rant today about the neighbor kids who have been playing soccer in the street for days on end disturbing my peace and quiet. I have to use earplugs because they are so loud which, of course, hinders my ability to listen to my favorite music. It is all about the blues for me and I hate it when I have to go without for long periods of time. If you are like me, music lifts your mood or calms you down, it is a social sharing experience, and it is pure entertainment. Give me B.B. King please any time. Kids, pipe down! Play somewhere else. They don’t listen. I may have to resort to some kind of bribery. I am thinking popcorn, soda, cookies, or chips.

I am not a hater of children but I wish they would play near their own homes. They pick a spot – it happens to be in front of my abode – and bring their portable goals out from their backyards. They’re these huge things, if you haven’t seen them before: https://www.topcornermag.com/best-portable-goals-youth-soccer/. When everyone in a four-block radius joins the game, I can’t even leave my house. Along these lines, one cheeky kid came to my front door and asked me to move my car. The audacity. You have to just laugh when something like this happens. What is that old saying? Kids will be kids. I get it now. I don’t even think I could move the car with so many teens in the street. Someone would have to order an exodus. I might do it later at night, but where would I put it. I would have to park it several doors down to the annoyance of an otherwise friendly neighbor.

I like soccer as much as anyone, but I prefer to watch my favorite teams on TV when it suits my mood and I have had my fill of the blues (which doesn’t happen that often). It is becoming a more popular game in the U.S. these days and kids love it. It used to be relegated to countries like Italy, Spain, France, Germany, England, Argentina, and Mexico. There are many more. Come tournament time, the world is abuzz with excitement. This is a great time to become involved and get together with friends at home or the nearest sports bar. Arguments have been known to happen when opposing fans are present.

Arguments are also happening in front of my house. I have to get some control. I can think about it day and night, but it comes down to how. One day it came to me. I talked to the team captains and explained the problem, appealing to any modicum of maturity they had developed. They got it and agreed to move to the park down the street—clearing my house of any soccer antics. Plus, they could attract an audience and recruit some new players. The kids said they really didn’t mind where they played as long as they could rain or shine.

Life is sweet most of the time and I keep most problems at bay. If I need to lift my mood, I have many resources, mostly music. Sometimes my thoughts go astray, even while listening to the beloved blues. I start ruminating on the future and the worry of providing a college education for my girls. Tuition is going up all the time, making this goal challenging to be sure. I must think far ahead and find ways of setting aside some cash. The problem is how to make extra money. If I knew how, I would have done it by now. I have to get a little creative. I could sell some old blues albums to collectors which would be less taxing than getting a moonlighting job. I don’t see this as short term as two kids will require significant funding. There is more than tuition given the cost of student housing, books, extracurricular activities, and transportation.

I know that other parents cope and some resort to bank loans. But then you have the burden of debt weighing on your shoulders. It takes years to repay them. The students often take them out in their names and start their careers with a huge obligation. Forgiving these loans is a controversial issue right now. I sympathize for sure. I am pondering this seriously and considering a few other ways. I hate to see the old albums go but at least someone who loves the blues will own them. I have accumulated quite a few over the years and surely can spare a few.

I may have saturated my options so I welcome any other suggestions. I can call upon relatives, especially the grandparents. They are the ultimate source of wealth. They have money piled away for just such occasions. Why didn’t I think about this before? Will they be offended? They probably haven’t offered since the time is not yet drawing near. I sure would like to know now to stop the worry.

A friend was teasing me after he heard about my plight. He said, “why don’t you go out and get a metal detector to find gold.” Ha! While this was pretty funny, it actually wasn’t a bad idea. I would take the device to the beach or local park in the hopes of finding some dropped piece of jewelry like a wedding ring. I have heard stories about lucky breaks, so I read up on how to do it at https://www.findingafortune.net/how-to-detect-gold-with-a-metal-detector/. Gold is a common metal for adornment even though people don’t carry gold coins. They are hiding away for retirement in some bank vault.

Maybe a combination of all these methods of funding college will be best. My kids have offered to get summer jobs but I don’t expect them to make more than a little spending money. It all helps and I am grateful for their willingness to participate. I would rather do it myself of course. That’s why I am trying to plan ahead. So where do you buy that metal detector now?

I crave the times of the day when I can listen to my favorite blues artists like B.B. King or Stevie Ray Vaughn. I like to select a convenient time. Often, it is at night when the kids are in bed. My girls are dolls but they drive me crazy when I am home along and I can’t get a moment’s peace. This is a problem mostly when I have a new album and I can’t wait to hear it. I must put it off as family duty is in the way. I am called upon to amuse the children when mom’s not home and I prefer not to rely on the TV. I also forbid constant Internet and cell phone use as electronic babysitters. It is too easy and rote.

So, I have to get creative and think outside the box. What do girls like? How about polishing their nails and putting on lipstick, arts and crafts, sewing (am I serious?), doing errands, or cleaning their rooms and the yard. As long as they are occupied, I will be satisfied. I can wear them down and as they get sleepy, I will get out my music. I have a home entertainment system, but I also listen on an iPod and my laptop. Always in the car, the blues can be heard.

After all this contemplation, I got a sudden spurt of inspiration. I love basketball, so why not teach the beloved game to my kids. Let’s see if girls like it as much as boys. I always see them playing in the park on the playgrounds. These pick-up games often include adults. If you have grown up with it and are a diehard, you won’t want to stop. I searched the Net and found some portable basketball hoops on a site called Baller’s Guide. They are adjustable, and as the girls grow, they can be extended. I want to see how they like the sport before I put in a permanent in-ground type.

Wow! All of a sudden, kids who loved to sit idly inside, were raring to go outside like little tomboys. The new portable system was a huge hit. I did have to curb my music allotment while I taught them the rules of the game. They preferred just “shooting hoops” so this preliminary period didn’t last long. They kept missing time and again, but stayed with it until they achieved some success. Then I couldn‘t tear them away. Their mother is astounded. Now it is a family activity and great fun for us all. I have a new parenting motto: keep them occupied. It will solve your problems whether you want to listen to music or work on a hobby. You might want to read quietly, work on a project in the garage, or try a new dish in the kitchen. Given how addictive basketball is, I wonder if you won’t end up like me—the center of the action.

I will soon have a new home. The rental agency called and the house is off the tenant market. It will house my extensive blues collection. I have some very rare old albums with dog-eared cardboard covers that some say are worth a fortune. There are people like me who like to amass their favorites and find mint-condition items for display. I need a lot of space for my home theater system and shelves to keep my prized possessions visible. If you like, you can come over and make a trade. I have a few duplicates that are bound to join another group.

I am busy looking for suitable places near my old abode. I want to frequent the same bars and cafes and visit family and friends. I expect the prices will be the same if I don’t set my sights too high. I would love new appliances and spend considerable time looking at what comes with the property. I know if something breaks down, the landlord will replace it; but I don’t want to mess with a pilot on the gas water heater for example. I heard an old story on Facebook, maybe an urban myth, about a tank that blew up and wiped out the tenant’s belongings. You already know that mine are very special, and I am not referring to my clothes.

I found a great place to my liking with plenty of room for my stuff, but it had a gas connection for the water heater and stove. I thought about replacing them for the electric kind, but why spend your money on a rental. I asked the landlord about the age of these units, not wanting to give away my fear. After a long discussion, I felt that he wanted me to sign a lease, so much so that he offered to have the water heater checked out by a specialist inspector. I could be there to supervise. It is no guarantee, but it makes me feel more assured about missing some kind of boom. I don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night with singed hair.

I am enjoying my new space. I look around as I listen to B.B. King, and remember the good old days of the blues. As his website points out, this King of the Blues, began its reign in the 1040’s, so far back that he has reigned on top for as long as that of any blues monarch on the 4planet. For over half a century, he has defined the blues to a loving audience. I have been fortunate enough to hear him live in concert on Beale Street at his club in Nashville.

His guitar style is like no other harking back to Blind Lemon Jefferson and T-Bone Walker. His vocal-like string bends and left hand vibrato are unparalleled in the history of the genre and even rock and roll. He wastes nothing; in his phrasing every note counts. Let’s hear it for his genius blend of blues, swing, jazz, jump, and pop. In B.B.’s words, “When I sing, I play in my mind; the minute I stop singing orally, I start to sing by playing Lucille.”

I wake up to the smell of fresh-brewed coffee. Lucky me! I can’t wait to go to the nearest coffee shop so I make it at home. I don’t have to get dressed to enjoy it. I have a terrific coffee maker that was given to me as a gift. It cost the big bucks. I don’t usually buy such expensive appliances. I don’t wake up alert and ready to go, so I gotta have my coffee. I drink it while I get ready for my day while listening to an old B.B. King CD. It is the nearest thing to heaven I can think of. How do you get up in the morning? If you are a sleepyhead, get some really good coffee of your choice. It will be your motivation. If you have someone to make it for you, you are in luck; otherwise, get a coffee maker you can program to go on by itself at seven or eight am.

There is one drawback to the whole process: the time it takes to keep it running in peak form. I get mineral build up and have to descale it all too often. It is not my favorite task. I can think of better things to do with my time. I could be out searching for some rare blues music. I collect old tapes (cassettes, remember them?), CDs, phonograph records, and the like. You could say that my abode is a kind of home of the blues. Come and share my passion and let’s remember the twang of a great steel guitar.

Pretty soon I am going to get sick and tired of cleaning the coffee pot. I might resort to a home water filtering system, you know the kind that softens water and prevents mineral build up. I’d found instructions on Home Water Health about how to clean it up, and wanted to install a filter so I wouldn’t be needing to repeat that task in the future. Won’t that be a splurge? It will save time and my coffee will taste better, or so they say. Real aficionados of special brews attest to this fact. You must not use ordinary tap water, at least that’s what they said on Facebook. I could make my coffee with bottled water, sure, but why go to the expense when a home water filter will do just fine. Certain things are necessities of life. I have friends with similar systems and they rave about the soft water coming out of the showerhead that makes their hair detangle in an instant. I guess there is some kind of additive to the tanks they install. Otherwise you can go other routes and get a reverse osmosis process or a carbon filter. I leave it to you to decide.

Every morning I sip at hot cup. I have mugs that are souvenirs from various blues clubs around the south. Some are adorned with pictures of famous musicians like Stevie Ray Vaughn. The collection is a hoot. It brings a smile to my face every morning. I select the “personality of the day.” If I have a CD handy, the moment is complete.

I am a lucky guy. I know this. I’ve got a beautiful wife who loves me even though—God bless her—she’s seen just about every one of my flaws. Trust me, I may come off as smart and capable on this blog but I am incapable of getting myself ready for darn near anything without her help. And that’s not the only thing wrong with me, ha haha!

On the other hand, my wife is just about the most perfect creature I’ve ever met. Beautiful, smart, capable, nurturing. I still am not sure why she picked me. I tell her often that her only fault was that she didn’t listen to blues before she met me.She said she thought it was boring so she never bothered.

I didn’t waste any time educating her on her mistake, and she must have liked me enough to take it seriously all those years ago. I gave her a blues education in much the way I did, through Eric Clapton. I figured I would start there, first because he is so good but also because my wife had already heard of him. She decided his solo stuff wasn’t bad, which is when I knew that this woman was a keeper. From there, we went backwards–through Cream and then The Yardbirds, and then we went to Stevie Ray Vaugh, Muddy Waters, B.B. King, and other really well known musicians. She knew some of the songs, so again—it didn’t seem so bad. Once or twice, she even said to me, “Oh, so this is considered blues music? I like this!” Yes, darling, it is considered blues! And yes, it’s very good!

Once we got through the familiar stuff, I went into more of the really old school stuff and people she probably wasn’t as familiar with. Ledbelly, Robert Johnson, John Lee Hooker, W.C. Handy… I could go on, but you get the idea. At first, I thought she was humoring me. Then I realized she was buying her own blues music and I realized I had gotten through to her! We got married somewhere in all of this, and it probably comes as no surprise that our first dance as husband and wife was to an Etta James song (my wife chose “My Dearest Darling”). She had such a beautiful voice, didn’t she? It’s been a lot of years and we still dance to that song every year on our anniversary. I really am a lucky man!

She likes to tell people now that it is the one and only time she has ever been wrong.I usually just smile and keep my mouth shut (which is the secret to a happy marriage, by the way). I like that blues is part of our love story, and that her ignorance about it is something we can joke about now.

I got into blues music as a kid. My dad was a big fan of The Yardbirds and I guess he passed it down to me. It was a part of our relationship and a place for common ground, like the other boys I knew and how their relationships with their fathers seemed to revolve around sports. To this day, every time I hear a song or a bootleg I haven’t before, I find myself wondering what my dad would have thought of it. It makes me miss him, but in a good way—I remember how much fun we had together, listening to music and bonding. He left me all his old albums and his old hi-fi when he died. It was worth more to me than anything else he could possibly have given me.

Eric Clapton was, unsurprisingly, the one that I really sort of latched onto. As I got older, I followed his musical journey—through John Mayall& the Bluesbreakers, then onto Cream and his solo stuff. Clapton’s guitar playing was the soundtrack of my young life; from my childhood right up through my teenage years. He was kind of my gateway into other blues artists, like The Allman Brothers, Santana, Howlin’ Wolf, The Jeff Healey Band, Etta James, Bo Diddley, and George Thorogood. Once I made the leap, there was no going back. Nothing else resonated with me the same way.

I became a bit of a snob as far as musical taste. But the blues are just so good, you know? Can you honestly tell me that there is a better song than Stevie Ray Vaugh’s Pride and Joy?OK, maybe B.B. King’s Did You Ever Love a Woman. I’d even give you Muddy Water’s HoochieCoochie Man. Oh, and then there’s Robert Johnson’s Sweet Home Chicago.And I’m pretty sure I cry every time I hear Tears in Heaven. So maybe I can’t pick a favorite song.I really think that says something about the quality of music in the genre. There are just so many talented artists going back for so long, and the songs are iconic.

So maybe for me, the blues is a bit of a comfort thing. I grew up around it. My dad claims I took my first steps to For Your Love. Layla was playing in the car when I was learning to drive. My wife and I had a blues band at our wedding. When something is so constant in your life, it is hard not to look at it fondly.

Not a whole lot of luck getting the next generation into it, though, I’m afraid. My girls just refer to it as “Dad’s music” and don’t have much interest. I am hopeful that at least one of them will have a change of heart at some point and I can share it with them like my dad did with me.

Today was a crazy day. Nothing seemed to go my way. Not in the morning when I had to make an extra stop somewhere on my way to work and then got stuck in traffic behind an accident. Not at work, when my boss went on a tirade because nobody’d gotten much done over the last three days (none of us pointed out that it was because he had failed to detail the assignments he wanted us to do, and everything was missing pieces—which made them impossible to complete). I am not sure what else we could have done in that scenario, but he is the boss. There’s no arguing in that situation, or at least no arguing where you win.

Then I got home and the kids were crazy, which meant my wife was crazy. I swear it doesn’t matter how old they are, they are experts at driving that woman crazy. They weren’t in the door five minutes before one was complaining that she was hungry and the other one was pissed about her iPad not being charged (despite the fact that she’s the only one who uses it and is responsible for putting it on the charger). Dinner with those two sour pusses was like eating while trying to navigate a minefield. You had to be careful every time you opened your mouth or else one of them was likely to go off.

Don’t even get me started on the horror story that was homework.

The kids are now in their rooms behind closed doors. I don’t know if they are sleeping but they are quiet for the first time all day, which means they aren’t my problem right now. Thank goodness. The minute I heard those doors close, I handed my wife a cold beer and put on a podcast we both like called Blues Unlimited. The host of the show, Sleepy Boy Hawkins, does a great job as host. He talks just enough, and he’s got a lot of knowledge about different artists and songs. Even if my wife does claim he sounds like a muppet. I don’t know. I never really thought about it.

After a few beers, we danced around the living room to some really good recordings by Joe Bihari (courtesy of the podcast). My entire day disappeared. Yeah, I got stuck in traffic, but I usually don’t. I’m lucky that way. And who cared about my dumb boss? We’d be caught up on everything by tomorrow afternoon, now that he was back and available to fill us in on everything we needed. The kids are just kids; they’re going to be irritating sometimes. I had my beer, my wife, and some good music. I’m a simple guy, I guess. I really don’t need any more than that.

The guitar is king in many different types of music, but I think that blues music can really showcase the skills of a goodaxeman. There are so many options, you know? Steel guitar. Slide. That gorgeous, rich sound of a Gibson or that electric sound of a Stratocaster. It’s all just so good.

The steel guitar (to clarify, I mean the actual instrument and not the slide method of playing; I’ll discuss that later) in blues playing tends to be a lap guitar. Steel guitars actually originated in Hawaii but was incorporated into southern music like bluegrass and honky-tonk rather quickly. As another genre of music to come from the south, the steel guitar also found a home within blues. A good place to start if you want to listen to some good music is anything by Sol Ho’opi’i. Also, check out John Lee Hooker’s “Healer” album. I like steel guitars because it adds such an amazing tone to any song.

Playing slide guitar means that you are using a metal tube called a slide, typically worn on one of your fingers (sometimes you use a metal bar and that’s called a steel). A common style of the slide is a bottleneck slide, which looks exactly like you’re picturing. It actually originates back to one-stringed African instruments. Sharing a common ancestor, so to speak, with blues music, it definitely lends itself well to the genre. A slide adds a different and unique sound to any song. If you really want to hear some great slide guitar, check out Elmore Brooks—especially Dust My Broom. If you’ve heard B.B. King’s Please Love Me, it will sound familiar—King borrowed it. So did the Yardbirds for The Nazz are Blue. Other really great songs are The Allman Brothers Band’s Statesboro Blues and Steve Miller Band’s The Joker.

There are many blues guitars out there, but for me, there isn’t anything more classic than the Fender Stratocaster. It is an old school guitar; early models started in 1954. That classic shape and sound have been favored by musicians like Robert Cray, Buddy Guy, Stevie Ray Vaugh, Ike Turner, and Eric Clapton. Also, the guitar Hendrix set on fire at Woodstock? That was a Strat, too.

Gibson makes several models that are (or were) favored among blues guitarists. B.B. King played a variety of models over his long career, including a few ES models. His iconic guitar, Lucille, is an ES-355. T-Bone Walker also played several ES models. Muddy Waters mostly played either a Gibson L-5 or a GA5. According to Gibson’s website, he also played a Les Paul. Jeff Beck, Peter Green, Duster Bennett, Duane Allman,and Jimmy Page also played with Les Pauls. George Thorogood plays an ES-125.

There are other brands and other guitarists, obviously, but these are my favorites!

Even though I started listening to the blues when I was young, lots of the musicians had hard lives or lived hard and many of them were dead before I was able to go see them. If you ever wondered why some of these people sang the blues, spend some time reading about them on Wikipedia. Some of it is really heartbreaking. It makes me sad not just for them and their poor soul, but for the rest of us for losing out on such a talented artist.

I was lucky enough to get to see Eric Clapton once. This is going back several years now but I remember it like it was yesterday. It was one of the highlights of my life. My wife got us tickets for our anniversary. I couldn’t think of a better gift, or a better woman to be married to, honestly. He was even better than I could have imagined. He didn’t do a whole lot of soloing and he played a lot more of his old stuff than some of the newer songs. But that certainly wasn’t something to complain about. I swear that when he played “Tears of Heaven” there was not a dry eye in the house. It was about as perfect of a moment as there ever was in my life, not counting the day I met my wife or when our girls were born. Sometimes I find that my mind has drifted back to that show when I am doing something like driving or if I hear the song on the radio. I’ll probably do that until I can’t remember anything anymore. That’s how much it stuck with me. He’s semi-retired now so I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance to hear him play again. And, anyway, we don’t get out to too many shows like that. It’s kind of far to travel to places where the more popular people play, and like I said before—a lot of them have moved on.

However, it’s not all bad. There’s a BBQ place near us that hosts live music on the weekends.Sometimes it will be a cover band and sometimes it’ll be something local and bluesy. It is a little hit or miss but usually, it is not too bad. On nights when our two girls have plans, which is happening more and more lately as they become full-on teenagers, that’s usually where the wife and I go. We sit down with a beer and some good food. We hold hands at the table like teenagers. If she’s feeling spry, she’ll ask me to dance, even if nobody else is. I think she’s crazy and so do many of the other customers, but sometimes others will join us. She thinks that is so funny, other people dancing just because she is. It’s one of the things I love about her—she doesn’t care if other people are looking at her like she’s crazy. I like that we get to spend that time together. I look forward to it and I’m hoping we keep going even when we’re old and gray and she can’t hardly get me out onto the floor to dance anymore.