Guitars, Dirt and a Great Bed

Being home after a long stretch away can seem a bit surreal. Never spent time in jail but I imagine the similarities. We found it hard to relax the first few days, kept gearing up for going back to the hospital. The comfort of our own bed was a bit overwhelming. How could a bed be so comfortable that you can’t fall asleep ? A decompression chamber is needed when reentering civilian life. I wonder about PTSD and if it’s unwelcoming wind will become another challenge. The first days  of being home I could hear the applause from our garden. The dirt seemed to move as if waking from a two month slumber. I thrust my right hand into it to shake hands with a friend I hadn’t seen in a long time and felt the earths receptive touch. Entering our house the distant “ Twang “ of my old friends that lay in their cases beckoned for my attention. I have neglected my guitars for way too long. I need them as much as they need me. It’s good to be home.

Hail Hail Rock n Roll !