Corner Booth

So I was celebrating the birth of our Lord on Christmas while at the local watering hole with my good friend, Leash. We were discussing her brother's band (who are pretty damn wonderful) and we get on the subject of song writing (something I pretend to know a little about). We began talking about how hard it is to write a song when nothing substantial has occurred in your romantic life in the recent past. It is this single fact on which I blame my own personal "block". (Side-note: I am currently attempting my first collaboration and I must say it is moving along wonderfully. I will respect the privacy of the person whom I am collaborating with by not mentioning said person's name, but will allow him/her to reveal his/her self on the comment board if he/she so deems in appropriate...but I digress). For those of you who have actually heard me play live or use my demos for something more than a coaster, you can verify that most (read: all) of my songs are about having your heart ripped out and the inevitable emotional nose-dive that follows. Tonight I caught the ass-end of "Rockstar," and heard a song that I used to cover by the Verve Pipe called "Colorful." (Incidentally, if you don't know this song please exit this site, download it, and return once you've fallen in love with the Verve Pipe all over again). Listening to the song I realized that I really want to write a song that actually celebrates love instead of bitching about how miserable it is without it (Side-note cont.: The current collaboration is a song celebrating the ability to move on after repeatedly getting kicked in the "relationship fun bag," so there are hints of both pain and vindication...but I digress...yet again). I've known love (twice actually) but it's hard to write about it when it's been so far removed.
Basically, by the end of our conversation the other night, Leash and I decided that I really need to get involved, then screwed over in order to open the poetic flood gates again. She even suggested that we could do some role playing in which we could pretend that she was someone I had been dating and she could say things like, "It's not you it's me," "I just need to be by myself for a while," "I've found someone else," "Put the binoculars away and get down from that tree you perv," you know, all things I've had girls tell me before. Coming second-hand from the closest thing I've ever had to a sister, though, it didn't have much of an effect. After thinking about it today, I've decided that I would love to skip the part where I get involuntary time to "find myself," and just have a healthy relationship for a while. It would be a nice change of pace...though at this point I would take either option, I hate being luke-warm...and I seem to have misplaced my tree stand.
Here's to hoping 2006 yields a "Bo's Valentine's Day Album."
Much Love,
Bo