Musing, On A Sunny Afternoon - Time On My Hands

By Steve Bussiere

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It's only the beginning of May, and I'm already sick of August. It was 98 degrees in shade yesterday, and I had to fight for a piece of the shade.

Phil and Andy decided that it was a worthwhile pursuit, and decided to join me.

That's when it all began to go downhill.

Sort of the Texas equivalent of "Spring Skiing."

It was, I decided in a moment of lucidity, that it was just too hot to drink beer, so I ordered an ice water. I was overdue to make a wise decision so it shouldn't have come as such a shock.

Andy was in a pensive mood yesterday afternoon. It may have been the heat, but I think it was more likely the humidity. "Have you written anything lately?" he asked.

"No. I haven't felt moved, so I've been dogging it."

"Oh, I suppose that happens from time to time to everyone."

"Well, I never gave it much thought Andy, but you're usually right, so I'll concede that point."

"Hey, have you been getting Googled a lot lately? I remember back when you were getting more Google than anyone in the place."

"No, I don't think so. I guess the magic has left the building or something." I told them.

"Well, you just need to talk to your muse and grab some inspiration." Phil said.

"Muse?" I asked. I studied mythology in high school, but that was a long time ago. Back when the Greeks ruled the world.

I began to think about the word muse right about then.

You should never drink ice water and think. It's a volatile mixture, especially on a hot May afternoon in the heart of Texas.

I know the word muse, means to think deeply, so I began to muse about that.

Andy and Phil are both very well educated, so I should have been on my toes, but it was, quite frankly, just too darned hot to do that.

"Muse means to think deeply, and doing that might ruin my reputation." I told them.

"It's also French for the mouth of an animal." Phil said.

Andy sat back and smiled. It scares me when he does that, so I sat in anticipation of his next comment. "A muse is, in Greek mythology, one of nine goddesses that inspire creativity, like poetry and writing and music."

"I knew that Andy, but nine goddesses? Sounds like a pretty good gig to me."

"Yes Steve, it does. So do you have a muse?"

"Yes I do." I replied.

"What's she like?" Phil wondered.

"She's mean." I told them. "She's really mean and hard on me."

"I didn't realize you were Greek Steve." Andy opined from his seat at the square table.

"I'm not, but I'm a multi cultural kind of guy. But my muse isn't Greek anyway, so it really is of no importance."

"Well is your muse at least a female?" Andy asked, looking a little nervous.

"Of course." I replied, "This isn't that type of bar."

"This from the guy drinking the ice water?"

"Yes guys. Ice water is a good thing. So is a muse." I answered them. "Even if she's a mean muse."

"Why is she a mean muse?"

"I don't know. Maybe she was like the last muse created or something because she inspires me, but if that doesn't work, she threatens me with bodily harm"

"There are Senators who would probably pay big bucks for a muse like that Steve. Maybe you ought to put her on the market and find a new one."

"I can't do that guys. I've grown accustomed to her ways. Better the devil you know and all of that. And besides that, it might be dangerous to have an inspired Senator running around. I've checked the ballot."

"So does she visit you in the swinging bachelor pad or what?"

"The swinging bachelor pad is no place for a muse to be. Muses are female and then she'd be torn between writing inspiration and making me clean the place up. I think muses focus a lot better than that."

"So what does she look like Steve?"

"Heck, I have no idea. Muses are spiritual beings. They aren't of this world. You can't see them. They're invisible."

Andy shook his head sadly. "That's too bad Steve."

"Why do think that Andy?"

"Because she might be the ugliest muse in the spiritual world, and you have no way of knowing if she is. It's just not right in my opinion."

"Andy's right Steve, she might be mean, nasty and ugly too. You may be being mis-mused, and not even realize it."

And he smiled sadistically at me.

"Who cares? I can't see her anyway, so it doesn't really matter."

"So that's why you're drinking ice water, right?"

"Yeah, you can't drink a muse pretty when you can't even see her, and I'm saving a lot of money with the ice water."

"Well that makes perfect sense to me!" Andy smiled.

"Well, I don't think she can be ugly, because she hasn't been around lately, so I figure she must be dating some Greek god guy, and they don't do ugly muses. At least, I don't think they do."

"So you think your muse is out being amused, huh?"

"Yeah, better she's being amused than my being abused. I told you she's mean and nasty,"

"So you stopped writing in hopes that she'd go?"

"No. I'm just recharging my batteries."

"Well maybe your muse is recharging her batteries too, to inspire you."

"Gosh! I sure hope not!! Then she'll really whoop my butt!!!"

"Well then Steve, the answer is really quite elementary. Why don't you just write something about her and maybe she'll go easier on you."

I ordered a refill of my ice water, while considering that option.

I already mentioned that thinking and ice water are a volatile mixture!

I looked at my friends, shook my head and replied, "No way guys. Besides, nobody would ever read such a stupid article."

"Bob? Where are you Bob?"

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