ZZ Top: Artists of adaption

When I was 14, I bought ZZ Top's "Afterburner."

It was not that great an album: no "Legs," no "Sharp-Dressed Man." But
one of its tacky little tunes pops into my head on a regular basis these days: "Velcro Fly."

Well, it feels so right when you squeezed it tight,
when you reach the end do it over again.
I say yeah yeah.
I say yeah yeah.
There ain't never a catch, all you got to do is snatch,
do the velcro fly,
do the velcro fly.

The bearded boys no doubt had something tawdry in mind when they sang that. I'm not thinking cheap thrills, though; I am thinking about pajama pants and modesty.

I can't do the button fly on my pj bottom. Well, that's not entirely true. I could do it, but would never get it undone when I needed to use the bathroom.

I just leave the fly open and trust my wheelchair seatbelt to prevent any exposure. I also figure: Who the heck is going to stare at my crotch?

If I had a velcro fly, though, I could do and undo my fly to my heart's content. Or my bladder's.

Who wants me?

I have John Prine's greatest hits on my iPod, but I have only heard it a few times. Except for Springsteen and Christmas music, I mostly just let my iPod shuffle through my tunes.

His lyrics were still the ones that came to me this morning as I was lying on the floor of the bathroom three-quarters naked.

"Please don't bury me / Down in that cold cold ground / No, I'd druther have "em" cut me up / And pass me all around."

Who, I thought, would want any of me?

Not that I was at all near dying or have anything against being buried. Just make sure I am totally dead. My oldest sister isn't the only one who has to take a deep breath at that thought.

I wound up on the floor despite taking extra precautions when removing my longjohns. I decided to sit down to remove them even though it meant resting my bare bottom on my chair. I pulled my longjohns off my waist, then pulled them off my right leg, then I toppled forward off my chair.

I guess I whacked my head on the wall and wound up with my naked right leg getting hooked on every piece of metal on my chair. My skin, especially in the winter, reminds me of that yellow paper like the Declaration of Independence is on. It tears and scrapes so easily. My clothed left leg was wedged under my chair.

That was when I started thinging about John Prine. My eyes have a nystagmus, I would not wish my poor-hearing ears on my worst enemy, all my organs have Friedreich's ataxia. Who'd want any of me but medical scientists?

After that I got up and into the shower. No problem. Of course, I was out of breath until I was brushing my teeth 30 minutes later.

The most annoying thing: I really wanted to "give my Knees to the needy."

Of course, sad songs make you sad, idiot!

I have a playlist on my iPod called "sad." It has, obviously, a lot of sad songs, many achingly so.

I listen to the Cowboy Junkies' "I'm so lonesome I could cry," and I just want to comfort the singer, let her know that she isn't alone. I hear U2 sing "All I want is you," and I can't imagine a sadder song. Singer Bono seems to be truly mourning and yearning for someone out of reach. It makes me want to cry because I often feel that everyone I want, even as a friend, is out of reach because I am different and limited or don't hear or don’t drive. (Wow, I sound whiny. A friend once told me whiny people were better because it means they can imagine a better life. I really hope I do more than imagine.)

But the "sad" playlist doesn't only have sad songs. It is a playlist for when I am sad, and hopefully the music lifts me out of my funk. Mixed in with James' "Out to get you," is Bonnie Raitt's "Thing called love," which reminds me of good times in college. Next to "Brick" by the Ben Folds Five is "Breakfast at Tiffany's" by Deep Blue Something. (Yes, that dorky song makes me feel better always.)

It is not working yet today. The songs are making me sadder. Friday was a bad day.

We had another meeting yesterday in the awful conference room about the buyouts. Turns out I could technically spend the holidays job hunting because if not enough people take the buyouts they will lay people off staff-wide. I cannot imagine a scenario where I'd be cut, but I don't understand a lot of what management does.

I was late to work, mostly because a stupid other rider was not ready when we showed up to pick her up. And she wound up not even riding with us after all, so we sat there 10 minutes for nothing. Then the GPS all sent the driver off the highway to back roads two or three exits early so that added to my lateness.

It also has gotten quite cold. It is only November and I am freezing. I may be screwed.

Finally, my worst fear is being ignored. It is hard for me if someone says I'll call you or e-mail you later and doesn't. I know rationally there are many valid reasons I might float down someone's to-do list. Emotionally, I feel tossed overboard.

Yesterday, my instant message program was not working. At least I hope it wasn't working. No one responded. I stopped IM'ing because I didn't want someone else to not answer. Rationally, I know it could not have been working right. Emotionally, I was drowning.

And now my "sad" playlist is weighing me down.