We were in Maryland for a few days visiting our beautiful and brilliant oldest daughter, her engaging lawyer husband, and most especially their charming 4 month old daughter, our grand daughter,  Anna Claire.  Baby smiles are like crack.  You just want more and more.  I brought all of my schtick--sound effects,improvised songs, dancing and whatever I could think of on the fly.

I miss that baby and all she telescopes from and to.

*

I'm off my routines, feeling a bit unsettled.  Also a bit sick.  I'm allergic to cats and dogs; and, though I love them, my lungs don't fare well around them.  Both of our kids have households with numerous pets.

*

I've just started listening to a 4 disc retrospective of Stephen Stills' oeuvre.  Hard to believe he's been making some pretty terrific music for 50 years. It seems like yesterday I was playing air guitar to Buffalo Springfield in my lonely teenager bedroom.

*

After a few days off I stumbled today through some guitar exercises.  When I ask more established players questions, they ask about my goals, they speak in musical jargon or ask me if I want to play lead or whatever. They dazzle with the training and knowledge I don't have.

My guitar goals are fuzzy.  I want to be able to make a sort of Blues I can think with.  That's it.  It, if it happens, will be as uninformed and as homemade as my poetry.

I don't want to be Clapton or anyone in particular.  I want to make a sound or two that asks a question or two.  That's all.

*