Daina wanted me to go to Mindaugas bakery to get some palmiers. Drive don't walk, she said, as she had already made herself a cup of tea. There was a line. I could see there wasn't much left on the shelves. It was past eleven.
The guy in front of me turned around and I saw that it was Nidas. I never quite know how to react to him as he can be either nasty or quite pleasant depending on his mood. He was pleasant today and we started to chat in Lithuanian. I was surprised how smoothly it went but then he was asking pretty simple questions like how is the little girl? Not so little anymore, I said. She's 21. Oh-ho, he replied, shaking his head. I said she was in London. He told me his oldest daughter is in London too. 40 though, he said. He has a few years on me. Fortunately, he took the three-grain sourdough bread, leaving the two remaining palmiers for me.
The snow had started to swirl around outside. I needed some milk and cheese, so swung by the convenience store. By the time I got home, Daina's tea was cold but she was happy with her large palmier just the same.
I didn't know if I should tell Daina I met Nidas or not, as she doesn't have pleasant memories of him. He was always teasing her, including at our wedding reception. He hadn't been invited but Virga brought him anyway. It would have been fine if he just kept to himself but Nidas is not that sort of person. When it came time to give speeches he felt obliged to do so. He said the only thing real about Daina was the amber pendant that hung from her neck, as Daina had her hair done in waves. He meant it as a joke but it fell horribly flat. That's the way it always was with him, which is why we tried to avoid him. However, Virga had an on-again-off-again relationship with him so he would pitch up at unsuspecting moments, tossing out his barbs that he meant as jokes. He probably thought he was being ironic, but if no one laughs is it ironic?
My humor doesn't sit well with Daina either. Yet, she remembers when I used to make funny comments in my early days of Vilnius. Maybe I have just grown more bitter, I don't know. Not like I have anything to be really bitter about. Things have turned out pretty well. Sure we are tight for money but then who isn't?
I find myself wanting a bass guitar again. I don't know why other than I have always liked the bass. At one time I thought about buying a big double bass but knew it would just end up standing in the corner of the room like the antique phonograph I bought when I first came to Vilnius. I loved the giant horn and the ceramic tile of muses dancing by a wooded lake. It only played 78s.
I would have a hard time justifying the bass guitar even though I see I can buy an Ibanez entry-level guitar for around 300 euros at Tamsta. I like the Yamaha BB 234 better but it's an extra 150 euros. I would still need to learn how to play. Maybe my son could give me a few lessons? He used to play guitar.
He had formed a band with a few of his classmates in high school and was playing in the basement. From time to time I would pick up his friend's bass guitar and strum it when no one was around. They all went their separate ways. They couldn't agree on what genre they wanted to be. They tried Southern rock at first, my son's favorite, then switched to Heavy Metal when they all became Metallica fans, then to something called Norwegian Black Metal that seemed to be trying to wake the dead. I was glad when they finally gave up.
The main appeal to a bass guitar is that it seems a relatively easy instrument to play. I thought that maybe if I learned to play we could get some kind of father-son thing going but we could no more agree on a genre than he and his friends could. Any such venture would be a solo effort today. Probably just end up buying the Jimi Hendrix Electric Ladyland box set that I've been eyeing for several months.
The turntable, preamp and powered speakers I bought a couple years ago is one of the best investments I have made. So nice to be able to spin records again. I recently acquired a couple of John McLaughlin albums: his live recording with Al Dimeola and Paco De Lucia, as well as his classic The Inner Mounting Flame. No skips and very little static. I think what has deterred me from buying a bass guitar is that I could never reach the level of the music I enjoy most, certainly not at my age.
It was funny reading the many comments on what would have been Hendrix's 80th birthday last November. Some early rockers were so overwhelmed when he came to London that they entertained all sorts of dark thoughts. Jeff Beck apparently said to Ritchie Blackmore, "we've got to do something about this guy?" as if implying Ritchie knew a hit man.
Still that bass guitar looms in my imagination. Maybe I should just say what the hell and buy it anyway! Not sure how Daina will take it, especially after what we paid in utility bills last month. She has given up on Chopin after spending a fair amount of time on his preludes on her Ronisch upright piano. I suppose if we were to do something together it would have to be a double bass, but then it would most likely be more trouble than it is worth. This was the case with ballroom dancing. We eventually did learn to cut a pretty good foxtrot but not without her telling me over and over again to listen to the music, as if I was the one with a bad ear.
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