Having the house to myself for the next few days means several things. Above all, it means missing my wife and kids profoundly while they visit family out of town. Guitar Dad’s pad is a weirdly quiet place without my boisterous brood running about, demanding this and that, cracking me up and just generally being super cute and fun.
But being alone also means playing some of my favorite tunes on the stereo, loudly and incessantly. I’m talking about the wild, esoteric stuff I usually don’t subject my family to. Stuff like King Crimson, Zappa, creepy pre-Dark Side of the Moon Floyd, Coltrane’s more exploratory ventures and the 13th Floor Elevators, to name a few.
I own a lot of this music on vinyl, which means firing up my trusty Project turntable. LPs really do sound deep and delicious, although I’m using a new software program to digitally dumb down some choice albums for my iPod. Between the loud tunes and my cranked-up guitar amp, I’m hoping to get a grip on my loneliness this week. We’ll see.