I don’t believe Christmas carols should be played until December. Perhaps I’m in the minority, but that’s just how I feel. I, of course, cannot avoid them if I wish to purchase anything between now and December 1. I’ve decided the problem is that there is no traditional Thanksgiving music so I, in my pre-vacation goof-offing-ness, have begun the first annual Thanksgiving Mix: A Mix to Eat Too Much By.
Thank U Alanis Morissette
These Are Days 10,000 Maniacs
Come Together Macy Gray
Gimme Some Lovin’ The Spencer Davis Group
All About Our Love Sade
Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) Green Day
Glad You’re Here Macy Gray, featuring Fergie
Thankyou The Creatures
Didn’t make it, but honorable mentions:
All Tomorrow’s Parties The Velvet Underground
Drama L7
Fly Sugar Ray
November 24, 2009
November 18, 2009
Mosquitoes and Other Things That Start With M
I got the format from Murat, who borrowed it from someone else. So it goes.
Consumed with: Melancholy. (Dramatic, I know.) Perhaps I should say, “Consumed by melancholy.” I’m trying very hard to just cheer up already. I try new things, I work on good habits, I treat myself, I talk to loved ones, I actualize positive processes to facilitate growth and communication…but…Melancholy consumes me in the way that mosquitoes consume people. I’m laid back, sipping my beer on the porch of life when damn it if there isn’t a high-pitched buzzing in my ear. There it is again, that melancholy stinging briefly and ruining the moment, and then leaving itchy little welts to ruin the upcoming moments. I’m trying really hard to get on with it already, but melancholy is just brushed away briefly before coming back to bug me some more.
Hoping for: A lightening bolt of inspiration. No? How about a strong breeze of encouragement?
Listening to: Beck’s “Think I’m In Love” What if it’s wrong? What if it’s wrong to play the game?
Enjoying: My guitar. Among my “trying new things” has been “teach myself guitar.” I like it. I only know how to play a chromatic scale and three chords so far, but I like playing them. Trying to play an insanely simplified three-chord version of “Leaving on a Jet Plane” has been like mosquito repellent (to keep the metaphor going).
Just finished reading: Angels and Demons by Dan Brown. I enjoy Brown’s books for what they are: paperback thrillers. Unnecessary sex and violence while discussing art trivia? Yes please. People who take his books too seriously should go look up the word “fiction.” (Then they should read Dr. No by Ian Fleming.) Like The Da Vinci Code, this book is over the top and cliff-hangery and I enjoyed it like a rerun of “The A-Team.”
Watching: “The Prisoner” Actually, I just finished watching the remake but I’m still thinking about it, which is always the sign of a good show. My Dad introduced me to the original series through reruns on one of his thousands of cable channels. It’s surreal and vaguely creepy stuff, but entertaining for unidentifiable reasons. I suppose because you have to interpret so much of the lunacy without spoon-fed explanations that you get out of the Village what you take in. In my opinion, the remake lived up to its predecessor, thanks mostly to Ian McKellen who was clearly enjoying himself as Number Two. Favorite quote, “That’s unusually deep for a Thursday.”
Wishing for: A winning lottery ticket—even a metaphorical one would do.
Consumed with: Melancholy. (Dramatic, I know.) Perhaps I should say, “Consumed by melancholy.” I’m trying very hard to just cheer up already. I try new things, I work on good habits, I treat myself, I talk to loved ones, I actualize positive processes to facilitate growth and communication…but…Melancholy consumes me in the way that mosquitoes consume people. I’m laid back, sipping my beer on the porch of life when damn it if there isn’t a high-pitched buzzing in my ear. There it is again, that melancholy stinging briefly and ruining the moment, and then leaving itchy little welts to ruin the upcoming moments. I’m trying really hard to get on with it already, but melancholy is just brushed away briefly before coming back to bug me some more.
Hoping for: A lightening bolt of inspiration. No? How about a strong breeze of encouragement?
Listening to: Beck’s “Think I’m In Love” What if it’s wrong? What if it’s wrong to play the game?
Enjoying: My guitar. Among my “trying new things” has been “teach myself guitar.” I like it. I only know how to play a chromatic scale and three chords so far, but I like playing them. Trying to play an insanely simplified three-chord version of “Leaving on a Jet Plane” has been like mosquito repellent (to keep the metaphor going).
Just finished reading: Angels and Demons by Dan Brown. I enjoy Brown’s books for what they are: paperback thrillers. Unnecessary sex and violence while discussing art trivia? Yes please. People who take his books too seriously should go look up the word “fiction.” (Then they should read Dr. No by Ian Fleming.) Like The Da Vinci Code, this book is over the top and cliff-hangery and I enjoyed it like a rerun of “The A-Team.”
Watching: “The Prisoner” Actually, I just finished watching the remake but I’m still thinking about it, which is always the sign of a good show. My Dad introduced me to the original series through reruns on one of his thousands of cable channels. It’s surreal and vaguely creepy stuff, but entertaining for unidentifiable reasons. I suppose because you have to interpret so much of the lunacy without spoon-fed explanations that you get out of the Village what you take in. In my opinion, the remake lived up to its predecessor, thanks mostly to Ian McKellen who was clearly enjoying himself as Number Two. Favorite quote, “That’s unusually deep for a Thursday.”
Wishing for: A winning lottery ticket—even a metaphorical one would do.
November 11, 2009
Bee Keeping
If you have decided to try your hand at bee keeping, please consider the following:
Keep your bee with perspective. His is a working class, after all. A yellow-and-black collared class that finds its bread in routine, its opiate in tradition. It’s the doing, day in and out, that interests him. To try and persuade him to your undoings will result in an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.
Keep your bee with precision. He is a creature of order, of sequence, of simple geometry. He does not crave higher mathematics so do not waste his time with imaginary numbers and impractical theorems. He is clockwork unburdened by cogs and springs.
Keep your bee with timing. Something smooth and sequential for the comings and goings and one’s and two’s of a day. A nice three-four waltz is charming for all seasons. Nothing too modern is necessary, nothing too formal is desired.
Keep your bee with sagacity. Professions with elaborate hats can lead to inanity and regular usage of smokers can cause abandonment of propriety in inappropriate moments. Curb any lack of inhibition post haste or else risk losing face with the bee.
Keep your bee with peace. He is not cunning nor knows the way of war. He will sacrifice himself, fodder in some incomprehensible confrontation, if he is met with hostility.
Keep your bee with faith. He knows he can fly. You should just trust that he can, too, despite physics and whatnot.
Keep your bee with family. His nature is to nurture. Blood is thicker than water and honey thicker still.
Keep your bee with perspective. His is a working class, after all. A yellow-and-black collared class that finds its bread in routine, its opiate in tradition. It’s the doing, day in and out, that interests him. To try and persuade him to your undoings will result in an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.
Keep your bee with precision. He is a creature of order, of sequence, of simple geometry. He does not crave higher mathematics so do not waste his time with imaginary numbers and impractical theorems. He is clockwork unburdened by cogs and springs.
Keep your bee with timing. Something smooth and sequential for the comings and goings and one’s and two’s of a day. A nice three-four waltz is charming for all seasons. Nothing too modern is necessary, nothing too formal is desired.
Keep your bee with sagacity. Professions with elaborate hats can lead to inanity and regular usage of smokers can cause abandonment of propriety in inappropriate moments. Curb any lack of inhibition post haste or else risk losing face with the bee.
Keep your bee with peace. He is not cunning nor knows the way of war. He will sacrifice himself, fodder in some incomprehensible confrontation, if he is met with hostility.
Keep your bee with faith. He knows he can fly. You should just trust that he can, too, despite physics and whatnot.
Keep your bee with family. His nature is to nurture. Blood is thicker than water and honey thicker still.
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