Tea And Sympathy

Summertime, and the living is heavy
Sun is high, and my back racked with pain
Dropped a quarter, so I bent down to fetch it
And when I stood I was hurtin', only myself to blame

They don't write 'em like that anymore, do they? Anyways, just thought all of my readers would like to know the lengths to which I go to bring you this blog each week. You see the truth is...I'm hurtin' here folks. I wrenched my back yesterday picking up a quarter I dropped at the soda machine and let me tell you the pain is tremendous. But do I whine? Do I complain? Of course not, for neither rain nor sleet nor stabbing pain will stay this blogger from his appointed rounds. Chin up, shoulders straight, and on we go...

I guess.

Then again, maybe not. Sorry, dear reader, but this isn't working out. I think I better go lay down for a while. I really need to get a pillow under my back and maybe pop a Hilary Hahn CD in the old stereo and try to forget the pain. Yeah that sounds good. Just dream of me and Hilary down at the beach, running and laughing and dipping our toes in the surf. Man, makes me feel better already. The waves crashing, the seagulls gliding in the distance, the crackling of the fire as she smiles and meets my gaze. Yes, I can almost feel the soothing touch of her fingers as she kneels beside me and gently rubs my aching back...

Ow, damn it. I almost forgot. My aching back! Excuse the early exit but I'm gonna have to catch ya'll next time.

And by the way, what ever happened to Hilary? No journal entries, no new CD's, no concert tours. Don't tell me she's down at the beach with someone else. Oh, how I suffer, how I suffer.