Friday, September 05, 2008


"You"
"Me"
"No problem"

Ahhhh. I thought it was sweet. I've had gentile friends in the past tell me that they feel Jewish and I totally get this because I feel French.

Anyway, Auntie just bought me a couch for my new place and it's fabulous and red and as soon as it finishes drying, I'll take a photo and post it. "Drying?" you ask. Indeed. I decided to opt for the stain guard and boy, am I glad that I did.

The couch does not come with stain guard; someone comes to your house to spray it with this aerosol canister once it's been installed. My guy came today and, shnikies, was he a good time. 50 years old, blond 80's do, 5'7" if a day and wearing a polar fleece. Pretty standard, right? SAPIWKVKKXMXAPIWHRwrong. I made the choice to tell him I was a musician and then, just as the Israelis ending their Red Sea Walk, the waters came crashing down. Would you believe that he himself was a musician? Cause he totally was. Srsly, you guys! What kind of music did he play? Oh everything from rock to jazz to blues to grunge to folk, you know, like we all do. He quoted some of his homespun song lyrics that had the same emotional depth as an Ann Murray composition as if they were a lost Gospel. So he launches into his musical life story and I think, Jebus, here I am in my own home listening to some nut job talk about his philosophy on art and life.But then I thought, Well, shit. I have no job, I have no plans other than to run to the hardware store. What else have I got to do? So I let him natter on and then, whilst discussing the reasons to be a musician, I decided to tell him about how moving I found it to perform spiritual music for other people and by doing so, released his spiritual beast, bringing this encounter to a whole new uncomfortable level of weird. Disappointingly, he wasn't a religious nut, just your average, run-of-the-mill, God-is-everywhere kinda guy. He spoke of how he had crippling disease and been away from his kids and been into drugs & alcohol and how letting everything fall into God's hands led him to this great place he was at (spraying my couch). He went on to talk about how Jews, Christians, Catholics (evidently, they deserve their own mention) and Muslims all find God in their own ways and I thought this was pretty cool.

He must have just talked for about 45 minutes straight with me grinning like a five year old at story time. It's not that I thought he was especially deep - though I know he'd disagree with me there - but it was just a random human moment that I let happen and that was sweet. As he left, he said, You know, there's no such thing as 'luck'. Take a look at the letters in the word 'luck': L-U-C-K (Hooked on Phonics had evidently worked for someone). You know what those letters stand for? Labour Under Certain Knowledge. He was essentially saying that if you work hard with pure intentions, good things will happen and, c'mon, that's really nice.

Only another hour and a half until the couch is dry! WHEEEEEEEEEEEE!

2 comments:

Michael Park said...

Aww, I like this story and I like you! Hope all is well.

deener-meener said...

That is indeed a mighty fine couch that you have there!