Thursday, June 18, 2009

Hotel Stories: Sing, sing a song, sing out loud...

Lest you all think that all I do is find things wrong with our hotel living conditions: au contraire. Even in this miserable economy, the housing crisis, and the return to, some say, a great depression there are bright spots. OK, we can’t really get to the upside without explaining a bit of the down. So, let me tell you something about depression!

The romance of living in our one room kind of wore off around month four. I can, without equivocation, assure you that month 13 has definitely evoked some not-so-lovely characteristics in both Jay and me. Well, to be fair, mostly in Jay, but we won’t dwell on that.

A year of: 1) not having a garage for tinkering, 2) not having a motorcycle to build, 3) not having a motorcycle to ride, and 4) not having a way to escape from one room, has most definitely taken its toll on his psyche.

This has led him to look for alternative means of de-stressing activities to handle both the day-to-day job stuff and the night to night lack of diversion. TV gets really old. I am sure we have seen every NCIS and House episode four times. This led to the desire to purchase an electric guitar, which of course led to the discussion about amps and decibels, hearing loss (remember, one room), and the fact that our walls aren’t that thick, and our neighbors are present--which we can prove by the pounding on our ceiling from the penthouse above, and the noise on the stairway, usually after 11 p.m. Also, there was the discussion about practice, and how one must be a good steward of one’s purchases, especially in these hard times.

Now, don’t get the impression that I am one bit negative about Jay getting an electric guitar, even though he has a perfectly good acoustic gem sitting idle in Illinois. Nooooo. I am quite excited that he has a moment to switch from gas leaks in the garage and oil stains trekked onto the carpet to catchy tunes and rhythms. I might add here, that when doing a resume for a client, years ago, I received from him an unsolicited analysis of my handwriting, and he confirmed that I have within me NOT ONE negative bone. I am not sure that it is really the bones that determine outlook, but on a non-humid day, I might agree. Anyway, after gaining all but a written affidavit from my dear hubby that he would indeed watch his amps and decibels, and would promise to maintain, as well as possible, the hearing he has left, and that he would dutifully practice and become worthy of the amazing de-stress enabling instrument he was imagining, we were off to Guitar World, where we found the most magnificent Epiphone hollow-body, which Jay says is pretty darn close to the Gibson 330 (or was it the 335?)--which sounds impressive.

Since I promised to turn positive, I’m happy to report that music has brought back some romance to hotel life. Well, actually, that’s what it’s done for me. Jay still sorely misses his garage, a project bike and a ride. Yet, as he valiantly strums away, more than an hour each night, I’m quite amazed at his talent and grit. Plus, listening to his melodic tenor makes my spirit soar and makes me love him even more than I already do. He doesn’t like to admit it, but it’s made him feel better too.

Still, as the sun begins to shine into summer, that ride is awfully alluring, and we will have to see how long mere music in a fairly dim room will soothe my sun-loving, wind-in-his face craving, somewhat, but not entirely, domesticated mate.