Musical Madness

Gainesville

Beastly hot here. Only poked my nose out once, to check the mailbox (nothing) and confirmed that, yes, it's actually summer in Florida. One tends to forget how brutal it actually is, especially in a year where it arrived so late.

I put in a lot of time online-- swimming as fast as I can, just trying to keep afloat. Tonight, when I looked at my phone, I saw there were 286 unread txt messages-- all of which I'd actually read on the web, but which had to be batch-marked as read on the phone. Also had to spend a lot of time shoveling the sh-tuff out of my work account, after about 10 days of password problem I was too lazy to correct. It all comes back to bite you in the end. So to speak.

And yet, still, it's somehow worth it. The mind is sent off on so many interesting directions that it never gets a chance to stagnate. Boredom is strictly optional, and is more of a pose than an actual state. Burnout is the real problem, and I have no answer for it, except pulling the plug occasionally. Then swimming even faster to catch up...

Bill tells me he has found my next vehicle (I didn't know I was looking for one, but Blue is getting up there in years, at 15). Details later, when I have proper URLs.

Tonight, a silly culinary triumph: a meal conceived at 6:30, on the table at 7:30, with lots of time to spare. One of those Plan C things that emerges when all else fails-- and uses leftover ham and leftover cauli-rice, plus other things I always have on hand. It's from my current favorite cookbook, 15 Minute Low Carb Recipes, and is in turn adapted from another of my historic faves, Peg Bracken. What's not to love? Cat and man both raved about it. I am redeemed.

Bill is in the grip of a new musical craze: call it "Balkan Gypsy Mariachi Polka Funk" and some other stuff thrown in. Imagine the scene in The Music Man where the band finally shows off what they've learned from Professor Hill, only not quite that polished or organized or in tune, and you'll have an idea of how awful this stuff is. I'm sure a large part of its appeal for him is the look on my face when he puts it on, and the comments I make, trying to be kind, while every tooth in my head is broadcasting pain on a different frequency. This is the most obnoxious music ever made. I'm tempted to retaliate with some of the alt/hiphop stuff I've become interested in lately, but really, it can't compete. Bring back Steely Dan! Bring back Boz Scaggs! All is forgiven-- hell, even bring back Barry Manilow!! Just don't play any more of this circus horror show calliope madness that makes my ears bleed (and not in a good way).

I'm almost afraid to go to sleep, with this sound so fresh in my ears. I am going to concentrate on San Francisco, Winterland, December 16, 1978 instead. Bruce Springsteen & the E-Street Band. Oh yes.