Complicate

Complicate: (v) to make something more difficult by causing it to be more complex.

It is very sinister that men have succeeded in attributing feminine qualities and responsibility to negative emotions.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

For instance, a worry-wart rarely has hairy armpits.

“Picky” is associated with those who smell like flowers.

And of course, “nagging” could never be done by the sons of Adam.

Men, as a gender, roll their eyes to make it clear that women are the culprits who complicate matters.

Even though the federal government is predominately inhabited by those familiar with the urinal, and there is no other group that complicates matters more through this alleged check-and-balances among the executive, legislative and judicial branches–even though this is true–women are still portrayed as the villains for insisting on working from a check list before going on vacation.

It may surprise you that red tape has no female origin. It is a term that came about by the minutia generated by the army during the Civil War in order to accumulate useless information.

“Complicate” has no gender. It is a nasty vice which always tries to remove the hope from faith so love will die.

 

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Chord

Chord: (n) a group of three or more notes sounded together, as a basis of harmony.

Mrs. Bosley never told me.

She was my piano teacher when I was a boy. I took lessons from her for two years–and she never mentioned that music is very mathematical.

For instance, making a chord. You have a root note–like a C. You go up two steps to get your third and another step-and-a-half to get your fifth. There. You’ve got a chord. And it works with any key.

Once I discovered this magic, I realized any song could be played in any key as long as the chords could be attained by using my mathematical little formula.

My theories were put to the test when the music group I put together lost our piano player because her father thought it wasn’t good for her to be hanging out with a bunch of boys. He was also pissed at us because he insisted our hair was too long. So he told us that she was no longer allowed to play piano for us.

He thought that would be the end of our little group.

But instead, I grabbed the kid brother of our tenor singer, sat down with the mathematical formulas aforementioned–and in six weeks, taught this kid how to “chord out” five songs.

You cannot imagine how surprised people were when this boy walked to the piano and started playing.

Honestly, we kind of did this on a lark–but it ended up being a transforming experience for him. He went from being human wallpaper to decorating rooms with his talent. Within five years, he was in demand from every group in Columbus, Ohio.

All because he learned his chords.

We do a disservice when we try to complicate the good things of life, and make them seem inaccessible. Music especially needs to be available for all of us.

If it is, maybe we can all live in one a-chord.

 

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