Shapes of things before my eyes

I successfully threw a surprise birthday party for my mother this past weekend. Now, before you break out in ecstatic, joyous tears and write me a gratitude check for an awful lot of money, I must point out that the whole affair was fairly easy and low key. Just my sister and her family, Nana, and me. Not a huge bash with D-list celebrity guest stars, bros, and special catered treats, but I pulled it off with, dare I say, aplomb. When we all poured into the house on Sunday, mom didn't know what was what. She figured it was just going to be me, but, "Surprise, Son!", it wasn't. We ate pizza and cake and sat on the porch and enjoyed each other's company. I installed an a./c in mom's bedroom window and put some boxes in the attic. The weather was ideal, sunny and warm and slightly breezy. After all she's been through, those radical changes that accompanied my dad's passing, she needed to have something nice done for her. Oh, and for the record, I would have gone much bigger with the party but my mother does not like grand affairs.

I had a long, deeply satisfying yoga session after work. The spiritual and physical elements were amplified; shavasana was sublime. And then I made a rice bowl with steamed broccoli, tuna marinated in teriyaki sauce, feta cheese, black beans, and sweet potato. Fortifying and very, very tasty. Now that I'm confident Billy has given up trying to poison me, I've really been enjoying my meals.

Who's listening to Jeff Beck's Truth right now? If you guessed David Gilmour, you are correct. And if you guessed me, then you are correct, too. I bet you'd like to be more like me and Davey Boy, right? Well, for starters, you should learn some tasteful licks on the guitar and then I recommend you go listen to the wonderful Truth.

Now to seek my own truth by means of a guitar and a pen and paper.