I opened my guitar case and pulled out the black guitar that we hadpurchased a couple of weeks ago. I hadn't had it for long, but I was inlove with my...new guitar. It was the perfect instrument, at least in mymind.I took the guitar, picked up the notebook and pencil sitting next to thecase, and stepped over to the couch. I sat down and placed the guitar onmy knee, and then I flipped through the notebook to a blank page towrite down the new song. The few pages with writing were filled withhalf. ..dammit...motherfucker...? I gave up and just cried for afew more minutes, while Seabiscuit and Stockroom Follies looked on.Seabiscuit asked Stockroom Follies if I was drunk. ?No!? I wailed, ?I'min motherfucking love, dammit!? I went on in this vein for some timebefore I finally wound down.?Do you want a drink?? Seabiscuit asked solicitously. Evidently, in hismind, if alcohol wasn't the problem, it must be the solution.?Anything but a Manhattan,? I wailed. Stockroom Follies brought metequila.. More

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