Three

I had three. I thought I might. But it was only three. This morning at 7 a.m. would have been 3 full days, so the number fits. It wasn't even three whole ones. And I didn't buy any, so it's not like I fell off the wagon, slew the horse and burned the wagon. I just stepped off to pee, really. Now I'm back on. And I'll hear nothing different of it.

So My Therapist Says he smokes. That's very good. I don't much trust people who don't have some obvious flaw, habit, etc. The appearance of perfection is the last refuge of assholes, I believe. I relayed the message from a friend that I should get a refund or a discount every time I make him cry. Then again, I noted, he may just be a weeper. He disclaims that label. He mentioned some deliciously nasty tidbit about someone with a remarkably sad story over which he's shed not a tear. It's all in the delivery, he said. So I've still got it, it would appear. He said music gets him. He asked if it got to me and I answered too quickly that it didn't. I hadn't considered the breadth of options.

Southern Gospel Music makes me cry - when it's supposed to. I spent the last hour trying to find the lyrics to a song that illustrates the kind of music that moves me. I couldn't find them. And I hate to be inaccurate when I quote somebody. But I stumbled across the Web site of one of the men associated with the song. His name is Kirk Talley - a very well-known name in Southern Gospel circles. I don't know Mr. Talley. We've never met. I was looking for the lyrics to a song that his sister-in-law sings with haunting beauty, "Thinkin' 'Bout Home". Instead, I found Kirk Talley's site that chronicles his nightmarish struggle with same sex attraction, extortion, public outing, thoughts of suicide... That made me cry.

I never had the kind of voice that would make me famous. I never had the sort of face people would put on album covers. I was always just a notch below on both counts - in the boundless sea of "Pretty Good!". But people would appear so moved - and not just my Grandma - when I would "minister in music", as we call it. That was always gratifying. I think I always knew that it was more important to make an impact than to reach perfection. If I was never great, I'd be happy just to matter.

My Therapist Says that someone mentioned this Blog to him - without realizing they were speaking to the Title Character. I was excited! This was GOOD!! I wondered what people said to each other about it when I wasn't standing around. I wondered if people said anything. I have gotten some nice notes from people - anonymous and otherwise - that have validated what I thought I was doing. Some of them are funny in their exuberance. Some are ridiculous in their praise. There was a marriage proposal. From a married man.

My Therapist Says his friend really liked it. Something was said about good writing. I'm not a good writer. I am not a good writer. I don't write well, technically speaking. I have no training, aside from Comp 103, in writing. I don't write as evidence of my ability. I write because I believe that in the exhibitionism I will be truthful with myself, above all. I think by doing this out in the open, as it were, I'll be bound to truthfulness as I look at myself and my life. It's become my accountability partner, as we used to call it in church.

My Therapist said the crying thing wasn't so much in the story as in the delivery. That's what they used to say about my singing. I knew I wasn't "great". But I knew I had a presence and that things happened when I touched a microphone in a sanctuary. I know I don't write well, but I hear that people have seen themselves or been moved or gleaned something from my efforts. That's cool. That's really cool. Oh...and I found those lyrics.

"Thinkin' 'bout Home" - by Terry Toler

"A penny for your thoughts" I said to the old man
As he sat there on the park bench all alone
With silver hair and wrinkled brown eyes gleaming
He smiled and said "Just thinkin' 'bout my home"

I sat down and we shared some laughs together
And the cinema of remembrance, it did roll
We talked about life's gains and, yes, its losses.
But mostly he just talked about His home.


"Oh, I'm thinkin' 'bout home.
Thinkin' 'bout goin' home.
Dreamin' 'bout leavin' here.
I'm ready to be movin' on.
It won't be long before the sun will set and I'll be gone.
But until then, I'll be thinking 'bout home."

I said "Tell me old man where's your home and what's it like"
"Oh ain't nothing 'round here that compares
You see a King had it built and gave the deed to me
And all my family's already there"

He said...

"I'm thinkin' 'bout home
Thinkin' 'bout goin' home
Dreamin' 'bout leavin' here"
He's ready to be movin' on
"It won't be long before the sun will set and I'll be gone
But until then, I'll be thinking 'bout home"