There are seasons in my life where I’ve privately journaled about my life experiences. Most of it is so wretchedly written that a drunken monkey wouldn’t want to read it; however, that’s not exactly the point. For me the point is to simply record the event so I can remember a comedic circumstance, an inaudible word from above, or a lesson I should have learned by now.
(As a side note, my journaling tool of choice is Google Docs, but I read this article earlier today – OhLife: A Personal Journal You Might Actually Keep Updating – about a site built for the sole purpose of private journaling).
Today I’ll share a quick comedic moment that happened almost a year ago to the day. I’d taken a trip with my Uncle to northern California so we (well, mostly he) could attend the Healdsburg Guitar Festival. Here’s my summary of an informal jam session that happened one night:
We went to a McKnight owners jam held at the hotel, but I didn’t stay there very long either. The one humorous moment came when I was talking to some guy about wanting to play out more in Austin. He asked, “What kind of music do you play?” I hemmed and hawed. “You don’t look like the rock type. Country?”
Well, crap, was all I could think.
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