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Diaphragms, upbeats and photos Five years of playing saxophone for school band taught me to breath with my diaphragm and five years of jazz lessons taught me to count on the upbeat. Now when I sleep people tell me that they can't see my chest rising and falling and that's because I breathe lower and I continually tap my foot or clap my hands or drum my fingers to the upbeat. I'm the guy that you see driving down the road singing at the top of my lungs and drumming on the steering wheel and bobbing my head to the beat (the upbeat actually). Yep, I'm that guy. Exactly one week ago it was my birthday. I went to work, baked myself a cake, wrote this post, decided that this was a miserable and lonely affair and then signed up for an on-line dating service. About two months ago I sat at a restaurant and wrote an entry that was what I would submit as a personal ad should I ever decide to try. Well, I did, and the ad is almost identical with the exception of the pictures I posted and have now added to my original entry. I am no longer a disembodied voice. I am a voice with a few pictures of a face. |
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