Chapter Six

     Once you relax in the chaos, the rest can be a lot easier to handle.

    And then the traffic horns awaken you, a crow caws.

    Construction jobs of various types were on Harry's resume. The jobs had been taken because he was curious about architecture. The thing about Harry was that once he wanted to know or do something, he wanted to know the top and the bottom of it. If you are going to do the work of an architect you're gong to have to work on buildings, you are going to do the work of getting the dang thing built.  Life Happened and Harry never did become an architect. But he had some experiences, and still appreciates a beautiful space when he sees one.  Harry sometimes thinks that he can create a beautiful space, but he just doesn't presently get his paycheck from that. More importantly, Harry wants to make sure he doesn't take a space already created by someone or group and make it a less beautiful space. 

    Along the railroad tracks, Harry was pondering these civil rights, "The tricky part is deciding sometimes what beautiful is? Because beauty is part of everything in the universe." 

    First, as Harry's banjo, let me say this came as a bit of shock to me.  I was hoping that he'd say that his banjo, or any banjo was part of everything. But of course, I was stuck on the whole instrumentality of what it meant to be beautify and being Harry's banjo. That was sad. But it was a stage we both endured.

    I wasn't Harry's first stringed beauty.  He had, still has?, a monk's 6-string classical guitar, which put him to sleep many a night.  Hey, look I'm Harry's banjo, and I can tell you he can hardly handle my 5 strings, so that old 6-string don't worry me none.

    I keep telling myself, I'm a banjo, he can treat me like one that needs his attention, or he can see me gone, gone, gone to Carolina, or anywhere that someone can make me sing, like I know I need to sing.

    I am trapped in way that I often don't admit.  I don't have a case, I can't travel without being in a case or cover of some type. Problem is I don't have a way to pay for one, all I have is a desire for one.  Truth be told this was a point of aggregation with his 6-string ex. It had a case.  Not me. Truth be told, too, the 6-string-ex came with a case, as part of its package. I can't blame the 6-string, it was what it was.

    I think sometimes Harry doesn't want to buy me a case because he knows that I might leave him them.  I think it so hard sometime, I hurt. It hurts so much I think it must be the truth.

    Then I remember, I was a month-to-month rental when we first met.  I was new, but I was a rental.   We didn't know it, correction, he didn't know if it would workout, so I was a month to month at first. What did I know then? Not much, didn't get much singing time.

    Then Harry started talking about working for the woman, and I had hope for the first time in a long time that I'd get a chance to sing.