summertime blues

08.01.03 @ 9:59 p.m.

Just so you know, this long first bit is really depressing.

One of our dogs died today. This, in itself, does not make me all that sad. It's been coming for weeks. My personal opinion was that he should have been put down by now. His life could not have been pleasant these last few weeks. He was mostly my grandma's dog though legally my uncle owned him. I should be sympathetic to her, but my god, is that woman irrational. I remember when Sweetie got sold for $500, which is incredible for a dog that had a fault that made her unsuitable for conformation showing. She wanted the dog to be 'hers,' stuck out in the kennel when she could have a good home and we could be, uh, compensated for her. Grandma knew this dog was going to die soon. I'm not as nice and sympathetic as I should be. Every time I was around her house (she mostly hid from me all day, except before lunch when she nosily asked me questions about how much rent was in my Eugene house) I could hear her making kicked-puppy whimpers from her house, and, most horribly, the sound of cans of Pabst opening.

Yes, the current hipster beer of choice is also the choice of miserly alcoholic old ladies. Who knew she was so hip?

My dad mocked her for it. "Trying to make the pain go away?" I heard him ask. And there was so much contempt in his voice. I wonder if she heard it. When he was burying the dog (Grandma managed to pick possibly the most rock and tree root filled spot near her house) I heard him tell her "Oh, you had plenty of time to prepare yourself for this." At this point I had had to leave. Before that I was kind of keeping Dad company while he was digging and brought him a cold drink whilst trying not to look at the dead dog. I couldn't bear to see him actually put in the hole. There is little that's more horrible to me than seeing dirt hit fur. When my dog died, I wrapped her in a blanket partly to avoid seeing that.

So. My dad has no respect for my grandmother and my grandmother is a total alcoholic who almost inspires the same contempt in me. And that alarms me because I don't want to be that sort of person. My mom has been gone all day to a class and now she's at a wedding.

The only really good parts of my day were the hours I spent playing guitar. I've had my Who guitar book for a while now, but I hadn't really used the CD that went with it until today. I'm getting quite good at the first two chunks of "Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere." Dad was impressed with how quickly I picked it up, but it's not like it was a bunch of chords I'd never seen before. I knew a lot of it and one I listened to the CD a few times, I figured it out.

What I really want to learn is how to discern chords by listening to songs.

Practice, practice, practice!

(The title track has been covered by everyone and his brother, but I'm thinking either the Who or Blue Cheer.)

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Previously

fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05