I’ve been working on this song rather than processing my open mic videos (two shows in the backlog, one of which features a misguided attempt to play my piano arrangement of Redneck Vacation. Sometimes things don’t work out, but I do plan on sharing it soon.). At any rate, here is “Making a Living,” my first song of 2019. It is written for my daughter, who is 20 and feeling angsty about being an adult.
It tickles me to see the word “spelunk,” and equally so that I managed to shoehorn it into the nonsensical lyrics of the song, “Syntherference.” This is the 2nd installment of liner notes from my 2018 album Syntherference.
Perched on the uncomfortable stool at the corner pub, with several IPAs in my belly, I broke from tradition and ordered a grilled cheese. I had passed up many of their creative (and, at times, difficult to pronounce) weekly gourmet recipes. But “fresh” Vermont White Ceddar and mushroom on sour dough was irresistible to my beer-addled hypothalamus.
It was delicious; and, on an admittedly rare occasion during which I was strategizing about work (specifically, how to remind coworkers of my existence after my recent move to the isolated second floor), I ordered six more that I would share with my fellow employees the next day.
After some haggling (and mild discouragement via my wife), a logistical discussion ensued. The chef could not fathom my serving his creation after it sat in the refrigerator over night. And so, I agreed that he would partially cook the sandwiches, and I would prepare them in a toaster oven the next day (per his instructions), with a delicately generous discount.
After waking up too early, I remembered: My office has no toaster oven.