I’m no longer sure who visits this space. Since almost everyone uses social media for communication and I’d prefer not to, it’s been months since all but a tiny contingent of people have remained connected.

It’s December. For some of us, it’s not a time of holiday cheer, or happy memories from Christmases past. For families who’ve lost a child, or currently going through their first holiday season without a loved one, it’s a painful time, one infused with memories that more often than not elicit sadness.

For Mary and me, this is the first year we’ve decorated a tree since Mark was killed. He was a Christmas baby, born on December 19. This will be the third birthday of his we have to endure without our son.

Christmas in the saloon.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be filled with joy and happiness (I probably never have been), but at least this year, the dial on the sadness meter has dropped a few notches: still sad, just not “wrecked with grief.” I guess that’s an improvement when you’ve set the bar very low.

Today, I concluded a difficult class at USM. This was the first one of my history classes I’ve taken that I didn’t enjoy. In fact, I really didn’t care for the professor or anything about the class. First, it was an online class. Being that in 2019, universities are moving away from bricks and mortar and face-to-face meetings, I guess I need to adjust.

What I’m proud of is that I slogged my way through it. This, despite getting off to a rotten start, I still managed a hard-earned B. While my goal is always to land an A, my failure to properly engage with the timeline at the start caused me to basically get a zero for my first module. Fortunately, I can read, write, and think critically. The 96 I got on my book review (20 percent of the semester’s grade) helped me salvage this class. Oh, and the book was one I read on the plane to and from Indiana, on our way to the Heartland International Film Festival. Talk about making the best of one’s situation.

Last weekend, Mary and I dropped by Elements in Biddeford. If you don’t know Elements, you should: they have great coffee, food, beer, and books, too!! I found this one and bought it. The author, Philip Toshio Sudo finds a way to weave ideas of mindfulness and Zen into a very readable (and motivating) work on playing guitar. Sadly, he died of cancer in 2002. He was only 42.

Zen and the art of guitar (playing)

If there are any former friends, co-workers, WorkReady graduated or anyone else who remotely cares  to know about my continued evolution on my instrument and growth as a songwriter, drop me a note via email and I’ll let you know which open mic I’m planning to show up at. It looks like I can start hitting the road each week and finding a new place to perform my ever-growing set list of tunes.

Who knows: maybe my new tribe is located at music venues somewhere out there?