If your wife is going to tell you your lyrics still don’t work…

having wine and oysters in front of you, and a rare warm sunset just outside can soften the blow.

Last night, SF was warm, really and truly. Instead of the usual fog, wind, wet and cold, there was sun, soft breezes and warmth. To take advantage of the weather, we headed over to the Slanted Door in the Ferry Building for a drink and some appetizers. I was expecting throngs, but we walked in and found seats almost immediately.

Just after the food and drink arrived, Catherine said she had seen my post about finally finishing the lyrics to the final song for my album. She said she loved the new words, but… but, she still wasn’t sure what the song was about. I fired up Google Docs on my BlackBerry and she studied my BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS and then calmy proclaimed, “I don’t really get what’s going on.” I took a slow sip of wine and chomped a freshly murdered oyster and explained the song to her. “Huh, well, there’s no way I would have gotten that. Maybe you should start with the third verse.” Another oyster carcass was dragged from its shell and liquefied between my back, right molars. Wine washed its remnants down. And I had to admit…

SHE WAS RIGHT. ARGH.

So, today, I am reworking the lyrics yet again. Thank you, Catherine. And thank you to the oysters who died so that I might live.