This weekend I was a cat. I did all the things cats normally do, and nothing more. I ate all that was put before me, full or not. In my spare time, I slept. I slept without guilt, often thinking that I might be coming down with something, as tired as I was. In between eating and sleeping, I used the toilet, and in between those – I played. I played at a city park with my family, throwing frisbees and reading in the shade. I played at the waterfall park too. Man, it was an awesome weekend… relaxed to hilt, at ease to the nines. On Monday, my pop and I tried, unsuccessfully, to program his car’s built-in garage door opener to open his garage door. It’s the second time I’ve tried to make one of those built-in things work, and from my experience you’re just better of using the transmitter that came with the opener. Tonight (being as it’s still Monday), we’re going to meet up with Ben and Suzy and the family for fireworks in the park. I’m excited, I love fireworks.
The Bleat is what I aspire to as a “personal” blog. Posting every day without exception, each day with compelling comment and colorful, interesting wordplay. The ‘I’ -less style of writing is good, and I’ve even caught myself slipping into it the more I’ve been following the page. The guy writes for a living (and must do so all the time, considering the amount of content he regularly posts), so he kinda has an unfair advantage out of the chute. My paycheck, however, comes from doing something completely unrelated to writing… so you’re gonna have to weigh that when considering the quality and quantity of my material. Owell, I dunno if I’d enjoy writing for my food anyway – I’d have a huge fear that I’d “dry up,” like I know I tend to do when things get busy.
My dad isn’t active in the music scene, neither is Sharaun’s, nor anyone else’s parents that I can think of off the top of my head. In fact, you expect old people to like old peoples’ music. They have radio stations dedicated to music as the aged remember music. A child of the 60’s? Tune into Kool 105.9 to get your dose. Standards your thing? Lock KSWG 104.7 on your dial for the best of the swingin’ 50’s. What I’m getting at is that, at some point in their lives, peoples’ tastes in music get encased in ice. No longer are you stalking the aisles at the local record shop looking for your next favorite album, no more keeping up with what’s drawing the critics’ praise or riding the underground buzz. At some point, what you already know is good becomes good enough forever. I wonder when that point is? Right now I can’t imagine keeping one eye peeled for the next groundbreaking record. Is it just that, at some point as you grow older, the current generation’s music changes so radically from what you were weaned on that you simply can’t grok it any longer? What makes people turn away from discovering the new hotness? Maybe it doesn’t happen as much with die-hard music lovers, the kind of people who’ll bed an LP for a week and then leave without offering even a cigarette or phone number. The real users and abusers. Who knows.
11:11pm. Sharaun alseep on the couch, me in the back room writing and listening to music. We’re back! It feels good too… I can’t lie. Although I have to go into work tomorrow, it’s good to be home sleeping in our own bed. And now, I think that’s exactly what I’ll do…