Sick As A Dog

I came down with kind of a cold a few days ago, and this morning was the worst I have felt so far, to the point where I would have gone to the University Medical Center had I started feeling any more so.

But, sitting up right after the titmouse call, and getting ready for Jeopardy; I texted Jacob.

He had left at around 8:30 in the morning. 

Counseling by a Christian counselor type guy happens every Monday morning for him; and I guess he values that enough to walk about 3 miles to intercept the only bus that goes out there.

And he has gone out to the Lilly Pad to busk every time he was short even the money for that bus, so as to leave nothing to chance.

I actually thought that, with him staying here, he would be impressed by how much I get done in a day; but it is the other way around, with him going out in the morning, and me sleeping in. I could have gone with him and taken the same bus to the Guitar Center, to have them look at the Ibanez; but I had been up late on Youtube..

But, I woke up shortly before Jeopardy and texted him, who was on his way to the counselor's place, to please pick up water on his way back, because I was going to fight this virus mainly by water fasting. I then went into the other room where he sleeps and where the TV is, and there were two gallons of spring water sitting on his table, that he must have brought back the night before.

Just as I was pouring a glass (because nobody is going to begrudge someone a glass of water if they have 2 gallons of it; unless it is a democrat to a Trump supporter, but those dems are inferior human beings, point blank) when a text came in telling me that I could have some of the water in the 2 gallon jugs on the table.

After a day of sipping water, tea, kratom and the super brain food stuff I got, made from ground up mushrooms, to include lions mane, and reishi mushrooms along with 3 others that I don't recall, I felt pretty good by the late afternoon, when a guy whom Jacob calls "Nacho" came and brought us to the Guitar Center.

At least I didn't feel as congested and short of breath as I had last night when I was lugging a hamper full of damp clothes to a laundry room about the length of a football field away.

When Jacob first moved in, it was on a night when he had taken ill, and he just wanted to sleep. It was the typical cold gesticulation period of 4 days later, when I started feeling slightly feverish.

We are kind of hoping that it was the Covid virus, and we are both now immune.

The guy at the Guitar Center assured me that putting money into fixing up the Ibanez would give me a better guitar than 3 or 4 hundred bucks only, could buy./

It makes sense. Why buy a brand new Hyundai Sonata with zero miles on it, when your '69 Camaro just needs a new tailpipe? The Camaro is going to be a joy to ride, regardless of how old it looks.

I just needed to be assured that the Ibanez is indeed that '67 280Z, or whatever. It has just been playing rather poorly because of a shoddy nut installation job done by Bobby, who sold me on the notion of getting one made out of bone. Bone.

For better sustain, and a warm tone, go bone! was the pitch. Only he glued the thing in crooked, after inflicting a few scars upon the wood, knocking the old plastic nut out with a chisel and hammer..

But, the technician made it sound like a simple matter of filing away all the Gorilla glue, down to the wood, and then even filing down the bone so as to lower the action of the strings; but then gluing it back in correctly. So that is a major step towards getting back out there to busk. Now I just need to tie it in so some cosmic purpose...