When I saw the cities burning, I knew that I was learning that I ain�t a-marching anymore.
11:01 p.m.
We were a large group tonight, eight in total. There was a new woman who heard about us through someone at the language arts festival, since she wants to workshop a book she is writing about her grandmother. It�s always interesting when someone new arrives and doesn�t know the ropes. She�s good though, and hopefully she�ll become a regular. Unfortunately, we seem to have lost all our men. The group is a little estrogen heavy without them.
I saw the sports medicine doctor this morning before I taught, and she agreed with me and the physiotherapist that exercise is the way to go, but she warned me not to work �through the pain�, but to stop when I started experiencing pain. So, if I plan to do ten repetitions and it starts to hurt after five, well then I should call it quits for that exercise. Maybe next time I can get farther. Also, I shouldn�t expect to see any improvement for at least six weeks, possibly longer, considering how long I�ve had this problem, and if it really doesn�t seem to be improving, she can always give me an injection. But I will still need to strengthen the area anyway.
Hubby�s new piece takes its inspiration from Jimi Hendrix�s Machine Gun, and it�s only eight minutes long, or at least that�s all the contract stipulates. It should cause quite a sensation. The question is, though, how many people remember that music, that whole era? I found myself singing Phil Ochs� I ain�t a-marchin� anymore around the house today and thinking that it�s time to bring back the protest folk singer, that we have a new Viet Nam on our hands. I don�t know if there�s any money in it, though. The whole focus of popular music seems to have changed from anti-war to violence-at-any-cost, unless that is how this generation expresses its pacifist tendencies. Any opinions?
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