As the sun slips out of sight on my Thursday night, I’m sitting at the computer listening to tunes with a full belly. When I got home, the fridge beckoned – Sharaun’s famous cornbread – leftover from the days of cornbread past. And even though I’m supposed to be at Pat’s in less than an hour for a BBQ – I’m full-up. Owell, such is the life of a shameless glutton. Today went fine, once again not terribly taxing – which I rather like. It was another mild sunny day in Northern CA, and my drive home was particularly liberating to my work-shackled mind. I put on the Black Keys’ “When the Lights Go Out,” which is about as good a driving song as there ever was, cracked the window and slipped on my shades – y’know, start the end of my day in style.
Remember my paragraph yesterday about my writing process? I mentioned something about how I wish people could actually see me type an entry in real time, so they could get some idea what a labor of love sounds familiar really is to me. Well, the more I thought about it, the more I thought it might actually be a cool idea. So, I did it. Click here to watch me “type” (more like bang out) the preceding paragraph – technology is so cool, right? (Oh, and if you can figure it out, just hit the somewhat camouflaged “play” button near the top of your screen.)
But, enough with the novelty… to the cream filling.
I’m not much of a doomsayer. I’ve never proclaimed the nighness of the end or paraded on the street wearing a sandwich board and handing out “repent now” pamphlets; but you’d have to be blind and deaf to not have noticed the foreboding undertones in recent world media. Rice, Cheney, Ashcroft, all currently beating around the war chest with Iran, who may or may not have nukes; Korea’s got nukes and doesn’t want to play in the global non-proliferation sandbox with everyone else. While it’s not a full-on proclamation of impending calamity – it is disconcerting to me.
Over the small time I’ve labored in my chosen career, I’ve gained more confidence with each passing year. An interesting side-effect, however, of me becoming more confident at work – is the fact that I’ve also become more confident about what I don’t know, and letting people know it. I mean, when I was starting, I always wanted to tell someone that I thought I could do whatever they were asking – regardless of whether or not I really thought I could, I could always learn later. I felt I should always tell people I “got it,” when a lot of times I was nowhere near “getting it.” As I’ve grown more confident about what I do know, and and what I do get – I’ve lost a lot of that fear of looking stupid, and replaced it with honesty about not knowing. I knew all along that admitting ignorance is the easiest way to fix ignorance, but I was too eager to impress.
I don’t think I’ve mentioned it before, but way back when, Rolling Stone magazine released an issue that summed up their idea of the “Top 500 Albums of All Time.” I remember when it came out, because Kyle told me about. I can remember him talking about flipping out over the fact that no matter which album he got from the list – he liked it. Specifically, I remember him getting into some Roxy Music and Talking Heads albums (and, if I’m remembering right, a Big Star album too). I had always admired his tastes in music, they were much more flexible than mine (my mind would often get “closed” onto a certain sound/genre, blinding me to new stuff). I thought his idea to use the list as a diving board into new music was brilliant. Since then, Rolling Stone has made the list available online – and I stop by from time to time to see where I stand. Y’know, how many of the albums I’ve given a proper listen, how many I agree or disagree about, that kinda thing.
One album that always bugged me, mostly because of the incredible praise it always seemed to garner, was the Kinks’ The Village Green Preservation Society. As I studied my rock music history, I read countless fawning reviews of the LP, and noticed it had the received re-release treatment (“deluxe,” “extended,” and “remastered”) several times – the canonical release clocking in at 3 CDs worth of material. Despite its acclaim, I’d never really been able to “get” the album. Recently though, I managed to score the 3 disc set I mentioned above. And, after several listens, I’m ready to agree that this is a great effort. If you’re period-piece-phobic, this is not for you – it absolutely bleeds 60s. You may get a kick out of recognizing the track “Picture Book” from a recent HP commercial (the cool one with all the frame/photo effects). I won’t heap any praise on top of the precariously large mound already bestowed on the album – but I will say that I can finally see what everyone’s on about. And, if you’re interested in hearing the 255th best album of all time, and getting a healthy dose of late-60s musicana at the same time – check it out.
Enough cream filling, back to the novelty.
A narcissistic look back over some sounds familiar hard data and personal favorites.
One of my all-time favorites, the “you can’t fake your way” entry.
The satanic flier.
Like the commentary on Papa’s passing, and the McRib.
The last paragraph makes this one.
Rock in the ear.
The most visited post (by far) is my account of the Pac Man underlay artwork (linked from my Pac Man pages). The second most visited is the poop story (which makes sense according to some search analysis I’ve mentioned before). And the bronze (surprisingly) goes to my religion-statistics rant. There are 329 posts total. 181 posts contain the word “anyway.” 157 posts contain the word “Sharaun.” 141 posts contain the word “hate.” 140 posts contain the word “love.” 60 posts contain the word “god.” 19 posts contain the word “sex.”
Well, that should about do it for the week. It’s 11pm, I just pulled the garbage to the curb, and I’m about ready to settle in for a good night’s rest. Sharaun and I decided that when we wake up Saturday morning, we’ll just fill the truck with gas and strike out into the Sierras looking for a nice place to Valentine (used here as a verb). The element of the unknown makes it sound kinda fun, I’m sure we’ll be around Tahoe… but where we end up I have no idea.
And with that ask your leave and wish you a good weekend. ‘Night.