"I don't know who I've been all year.
I'm glad you're still here."
~ Alana Matty - "33 (The End)"
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
August 9, 2026
July 22, 2024
The CD is not dead, yet
When I was shopping for a new car, I zero'd in on the Subaru Crosstrek pretty early on. As I looked into it further, I locked in on the 2021 model specifically. Why? It was the first year that offered the larger engine, and it was the last year that a CD player was included. The CD player wasn't a deal breaker, but it was definitely something I wanted.
I saw Donovan Woods for the first time as an opener a couple of months ago, and he was totally great. During his set, he mentioned that he had a CD for sale in the lobby, "not that anyone listens to those anymore." Of course I picked one up during the break. Why do I keep buying CDs, this somewhat outdated tech. Am I just of that age and set in my ways?
Maybe, maybe not. Hear me out.
I own a lot of music that came out before digital versions existed. I have created MP3s from a number of my CDs, but certainly not all. Some albums I listen to so infrequently that it is not worth the effort, and not all of the music would fit onto the iPod I use anyway. Of course I could listen to most of the music online through Spotify or some other service. They aren't going to have those great Live from the Mountain Lounge acoustic albums for example, but I do listen online sometimes, particularly when I hear about a new band I want to check out. But for various reasons I don't want to pay for the service, and the free version has some drawbacks .
One maybe minor reason I continue to buy CDs is the order of the songs. Typically, Spotify shuffles the songs (and inserts an ad or two). In my head, the artist put the songs in a particular order intentionally. I certainly thought about song order when I made playlists and copied them to tape or burned them to CD (which I am also glad to still have). Artists can't really dictate how you experience their work, but I like to think that listening to songs in their intended order is part of their creation.
A more recent consideration is how I can support the artist most effectively. Buying the music or merch from the artist (directly if possible) is orders of magnitude more profitable than streaming their music. An album or T-shirt purchase is the equivalent of thousands and thousands of streams. This is even more true for small, independent artists like the ones I follow on Twitch. Listening online can help the artist reach more listeners, so that is part of it as well, but buy their merch!
Now, I could still buy the music digitally, but I was reminded of other reasons for the physical over the digital this weekend. As I headed out for my road trip to Crater Lake, I knew I had many hours and days of driving ahead of me, and I wanted to lean into music instead of the podcasts I generally defer to. I looked through my cabinet of 300-400 CDs to see what hit my taste buds in that moment. As I thumbed through the shelves, I was reminded of something else I did to more appreciate art and joy.
We all have thousands and thousands of photos buried in computer folders, most never seen or appreciated ever again. When I was on my own again and creating a new home, I printed some of those forgotten pictures into physical form for the walls of my home, so I could be reminded again and again of those moments. When I was choosing music and going through the CDs, it was more tangible and real, like looking through a bookcase and seeing so many disparate works that somehow create a whole. The CD from the random band I picked up thirty years ago has a chance to be seen, and not lost in folders of various computers.
Some 80s albums from my youth jumped out at me and made it into the shoebox for the trip. For two bands, I put their most popular albums in, as well as the follow up albums that were not nearly as radio popular, but that I love as much or more. Would I have thought to include them if I was searching computer files instead of perusing their physical forms. Maybe. But they certainly never would have popped up on a Spotify shuffle to remind me of the album.
Finally, there is also the art of the physical album that feels more tangible. I can feel the brush strokes on Wonder's hand painted CD sleeve, the stitching on Holly Frost's with the cool shirt button closure on the back, and I can't wait to get a copy of the CD that features my friend Holly's artwork, even though I know nothing of the musicians.
Now please excuse me as I queue up another favorite CD that probably never hit the airwaves for my drive home.
August 31, 2019
The gift of music and friendship
I was in the last mile of my ten mile training run and this song came on. I had not heard the song in years, but I was instantly transported back some 20 years to the first time I heard it
My dear friend Holly had told me to listen to this song, but after a few weeks of me not getting around to it, she intervened. We were in my car, in a parking lot, and she had me sit with the song and the lyrics, while she sang along in the passenger seat. It was such a gift.
This morning I ran along with those lyrics and memories, that wonderful tingling wave of a runner's high washing over me. All of the feels. All of it such a gift once again.
My dear friend Holly had told me to listen to this song, but after a few weeks of me not getting around to it, she intervened. We were in my car, in a parking lot, and she had me sit with the song and the lyrics, while she sang along in the passenger seat. It was such a gift.
This morning I ran along with those lyrics and memories, that wonderful tingling wave of a runner's high washing over me. All of the feels. All of it such a gift once again.
February 10, 2017
Waiting for my real life
I remember the first time I heard him. I was sitting on a makeshift deck, temporarily stationed on a Huntington Beach sidewalk. My friend put in a CD and said, "guess who this is?" Even though the voice is so distinctive, it took me two lines into the second song to realize I was listening to Colin Hay, formerly of Men at Work fame.
Men at Work was of course this quintessential 80s band. They broke big around the world, but were late to get airplay in the U.S. However, they were just in time for the launch of Mtv (back when they played music videos). Video may have killed the radio star, but this band rode the next wave and were soon everywhere. They were huge for a couple of years, but then disappeared, self-destructing from within, an all too familiar story, doomed to have their story play out on "Where are They Now" on sister station VH-1.
I can also remember seeing my first ever music video, and coincidentally it was "Who Can it be Now?", Men at Work's colossal first hit. I didn't see it on Mtv, but rather as sort of a preview at the theater, before the movie Tron came on. And now I have managed to date myself about four times in three paragraphs. Getting old. Get off my lawn.
Anyway, I loved the Colin Hay CD Going Somewhere, particularly that opening song, "Beautiful World". It became sort of an anthem, my song. It was the first song I would listen to before heading out on a marathon, big bike ride or other epic adventure. I can remember singing it when I was "swimming past the white breakers, where a man can still be free (or a woman if you are one)" on one of those tropical vacations I have been blessed to experience. Whenever I hear the song, I can just feel my shoulders relax.
I saw Colin play many years ago, at some small venue in Seattle, possibly The Crocodile. His shows are intimate, and the stories in between are almost better than the songs themselves. His songs are very personal, and his show persona even more so. While Beautiful World still starts the day, I think Colin's "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" with its raw, haunting beauty is a song that will stay with me forever.
There is a wonderful documentary on Amazon Video about Colin's life and career called "Waiting For My Real Life", the title taken from another great song of his. Definitely worth checking out (here). I have been waiting to see him come around this way again, but for now the songs and the movie will have to do.
Men at Work was of course this quintessential 80s band. They broke big around the world, but were late to get airplay in the U.S. However, they were just in time for the launch of Mtv (back when they played music videos). Video may have killed the radio star, but this band rode the next wave and were soon everywhere. They were huge for a couple of years, but then disappeared, self-destructing from within, an all too familiar story, doomed to have their story play out on "Where are They Now" on sister station VH-1.
I can also remember seeing my first ever music video, and coincidentally it was "Who Can it be Now?", Men at Work's colossal first hit. I didn't see it on Mtv, but rather as sort of a preview at the theater, before the movie Tron came on. And now I have managed to date myself about four times in three paragraphs. Getting old. Get off my lawn.
Anyway, I loved the Colin Hay CD Going Somewhere, particularly that opening song, "Beautiful World". It became sort of an anthem, my song. It was the first song I would listen to before heading out on a marathon, big bike ride or other epic adventure. I can remember singing it when I was "swimming past the white breakers, where a man can still be free (or a woman if you are one)" on one of those tropical vacations I have been blessed to experience. Whenever I hear the song, I can just feel my shoulders relax.
I saw Colin play many years ago, at some small venue in Seattle, possibly The Crocodile. His shows are intimate, and the stories in between are almost better than the songs themselves. His songs are very personal, and his show persona even more so. While Beautiful World still starts the day, I think Colin's "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" with its raw, haunting beauty is a song that will stay with me forever.
There is a wonderful documentary on Amazon Video about Colin's life and career called "Waiting For My Real Life", the title taken from another great song of his. Definitely worth checking out (here). I have been waiting to see him come around this way again, but for now the songs and the movie will have to do.
December 28, 2013
Holiday hangover
Christmas time is the most wonderful time of the year. With that sort of expectation, it can be a tough time for some. Sort of like going to Disneyland, "The happiest place on Earth." It is a lot to live up to, and if you end up not having a good time, it is your fault, right?
Christmastime can be this contrast. Amazing joy of time with friends and family, and darker moments of reflection as the end of another year draws close. Christmas rarely lives up to the magic it had as a child, but there are definitely years that mean more than others. Especially with the cold and darker days of winter, it can be easy to slip into a funk and fall prey to believing that there is more darkness than light as you compare what is, with what was, or with what "should" be.
I decided at (almost) the last minute to send out Christmas cards. As I mentioned elsewhere, it seemed sort of a silly thing to do as a single guy. No family photos or letters about what the kids are up to this year, but a reader called me out on it and sent one out a few years ago. After looking over so many pictures when I was deciding on what to put on the walls, I started to see that I had some great adventures this past year. I figured I'd send out five or ten, but the list grew as I thought of all the people I want to stay in touch with in the new year. I suppose the Christmas card is a way of saying that you are in my thoughts, and I want to do better at staying in touch in the new year.
Christmas Day was a blessed day of family. My brother and I gathered at my parents house in the morning, and then met up with a crowd of about 30 of extended family in the evening. When I have told people over the years how a large group of us still gather for holidays and a week together in the summer, and actually enjoy the time together, it is clear that it is a rare thing. I feel very lucky indeed. There is a funny transition as you get older. As families grow and life gets more complicated, you see each other less. At the same time, the age differences mean less, and you have more common ground having years in your own tank. It is a double blessing to have family as friends.
On the other side, friends as family, a group of us gathered together once again for the 42nd annual Dunsire Sleepover Party. Actually, each year is labeled the "42nd annual", and though it hasn't been forty-two just yet, it has probably been a good fifteen or twenty years of annual gatherings. We get together to celebrate the season, and to celebrate our continuing friendship, built off a chance choice to work at the same restaurant so many years ago. There are more kids these days, some who are now adults, and the party is a little less crazy, but it still goes into the wee hours of the morning, and many of us pull up some floor and stay the night. With lives again more complicated, this is the anchor that gets us together for an evening of catching up, and reliving old stories.
After all this great activity in the span of a few days, there is a letdown afterward. The hangover is both figurative and literal,.The heavy drink, volumes of food, and little sleep catches up with you and leaves you feeling a bit miserable. The emotional hangover of the quiet after the chaos hits you as well, and it is perfectly apt to walk into the next week ready to make changes in the new year.
These days, the holiday hangover seems to come earlier and more often. I don't think it is a secret anymore that depression is a guest that never quite leaves my life. She'll hide in a corner now and then, but I will come upon her and she will take my hand and walk with me for a spell. The holiday season makes me think of years and people that have passed by, and even with all the wonderful friends and family, Christmas is missing that one close connection that makes it personal and real.
I took a few days extra days off in December, using up some comp time built up from the long hours of tax season. I was able to go out on a random Monday run outside after being relegated to the treadmill in the days of working dark to dark. It was cool but not freezing, and a dense fog clouded my glasses, so it was soon easier to see without them. A few bike commuters zipped by, and an occasional runner passed in the opposite direction, but the trail was largely mine.
I most often run and drive listening to podcasts. I enjoy them a great deal, but I get to the point of letting music slip out of my life. When I break the cycle and shut off the chatter in favor of music, it feels like a beam of light to my soul. I had dialed up my marathon playlist on the drive home the night before, and took it along as company on my run.
A song came on the playlist, "Swim" by Jack's Mannequin. I actually found this song when the artist performed on the Daily Show of all places. The singer/songwriter described how the song came out of his battle with cancer. The song grabbed me then, and I think the live version was even better than the studio version I found later.
Songs and poems are usually left to our own interpretation, and we tend to tailor them to our own lives. Even though I knew the story behind this song, I think it speaks to other things as well. I find that the lyrics and the spirit of the song lends itself to any sort of struggle, and as I ran that morning, it spoke to me about the battle against depression.
Christmastime is still one of the most wonderful times of the year. It is a time to celebrate with the ones you love, family, friends and everything in between. It doesn't always live up to the hype, but there is still a little magic each year. It is warmth in a cold time of year, a realization that there is much more light than dark, and a reminder of how truly blessed I am.
Even though I stumble now and then, I find the horizon, and realize it's not as far as I think.
Christmastime can be this contrast. Amazing joy of time with friends and family, and darker moments of reflection as the end of another year draws close. Christmas rarely lives up to the magic it had as a child, but there are definitely years that mean more than others. Especially with the cold and darker days of winter, it can be easy to slip into a funk and fall prey to believing that there is more darkness than light as you compare what is, with what was, or with what "should" be.
I decided at (almost) the last minute to send out Christmas cards. As I mentioned elsewhere, it seemed sort of a silly thing to do as a single guy. No family photos or letters about what the kids are up to this year, but a reader called me out on it and sent one out a few years ago. After looking over so many pictures when I was deciding on what to put on the walls, I started to see that I had some great adventures this past year. I figured I'd send out five or ten, but the list grew as I thought of all the people I want to stay in touch with in the new year. I suppose the Christmas card is a way of saying that you are in my thoughts, and I want to do better at staying in touch in the new year.
Christmas Day was a blessed day of family. My brother and I gathered at my parents house in the morning, and then met up with a crowd of about 30 of extended family in the evening. When I have told people over the years how a large group of us still gather for holidays and a week together in the summer, and actually enjoy the time together, it is clear that it is a rare thing. I feel very lucky indeed. There is a funny transition as you get older. As families grow and life gets more complicated, you see each other less. At the same time, the age differences mean less, and you have more common ground having years in your own tank. It is a double blessing to have family as friends.
On the other side, friends as family, a group of us gathered together once again for the 42nd annual Dunsire Sleepover Party. Actually, each year is labeled the "42nd annual", and though it hasn't been forty-two just yet, it has probably been a good fifteen or twenty years of annual gatherings. We get together to celebrate the season, and to celebrate our continuing friendship, built off a chance choice to work at the same restaurant so many years ago. There are more kids these days, some who are now adults, and the party is a little less crazy, but it still goes into the wee hours of the morning, and many of us pull up some floor and stay the night. With lives again more complicated, this is the anchor that gets us together for an evening of catching up, and reliving old stories.
After all this great activity in the span of a few days, there is a letdown afterward. The hangover is both figurative and literal,.The heavy drink, volumes of food, and little sleep catches up with you and leaves you feeling a bit miserable. The emotional hangover of the quiet after the chaos hits you as well, and it is perfectly apt to walk into the next week ready to make changes in the new year.
These days, the holiday hangover seems to come earlier and more often. I don't think it is a secret anymore that depression is a guest that never quite leaves my life. She'll hide in a corner now and then, but I will come upon her and she will take my hand and walk with me for a spell. The holiday season makes me think of years and people that have passed by, and even with all the wonderful friends and family, Christmas is missing that one close connection that makes it personal and real.
I took a few days extra days off in December, using up some comp time built up from the long hours of tax season. I was able to go out on a random Monday run outside after being relegated to the treadmill in the days of working dark to dark. It was cool but not freezing, and a dense fog clouded my glasses, so it was soon easier to see without them. A few bike commuters zipped by, and an occasional runner passed in the opposite direction, but the trail was largely mine.
I most often run and drive listening to podcasts. I enjoy them a great deal, but I get to the point of letting music slip out of my life. When I break the cycle and shut off the chatter in favor of music, it feels like a beam of light to my soul. I had dialed up my marathon playlist on the drive home the night before, and took it along as company on my run.
A song came on the playlist, "Swim" by Jack's Mannequin. I actually found this song when the artist performed on the Daily Show of all places. The singer/songwriter described how the song came out of his battle with cancer. The song grabbed me then, and I think the live version was even better than the studio version I found later.
Songs and poems are usually left to our own interpretation, and we tend to tailor them to our own lives. Even though I knew the story behind this song, I think it speaks to other things as well. I find that the lyrics and the spirit of the song lends itself to any sort of struggle, and as I ran that morning, it spoke to me about the battle against depression.
Christmastime is still one of the most wonderful times of the year. It is a time to celebrate with the ones you love, family, friends and everything in between. It doesn't always live up to the hype, but there is still a little magic each year. It is warmth in a cold time of year, a realization that there is much more light than dark, and a reminder of how truly blessed I am.
Even though I stumble now and then, I find the horizon, and realize it's not as far as I think.
You've gotta swim
Swim for your life
Swim for the music
That saves you
When you're not so sure you'll survive
You gotta swim
And swim when it hurts
The whole world is watching
You haven't come this far
To fall off the earth
The currents will pull you
Away from your love
Just keep your head above
I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the dawn
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
A crack in the armor
I swim to brighter days
Despite the absence of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
I swim
You gotta swim
Through nights that won't end
Swim for your families
Your lovers your sisters
And brothers and friends
Yeah you've gotta swim
Through wars without cause
Swim for the lost politicians
Who don't see their greed as a flaw
The currents will pull us
Away from our love
Just keep your head above
I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the dawn
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
Cracking me open now
I swim for brighter days
Despite the absence of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
Well I'm not giving in
I swim
You gotta swim
Swim in the dark
There's no shame in drifting
Feel the tide shifting and wait for the spark
Yeah you've gotta swim
Don't let yourself sink
Just find the horizon
I promise you it's not as far as you think
The currents will drag us away from our love
Just keep your head above
Just keep your head above
Swim
Just keep your head above
Swim, swim
Just keep your head above
Swim
Swim for your life
Swim for the music
That saves you
When you're not so sure you'll survive
You gotta swim
And swim when it hurts
The whole world is watching
You haven't come this far
To fall off the earth
The currents will pull you
Away from your love
Just keep your head above
I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the dawn
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
A crack in the armor
I swim to brighter days
Despite the absence of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
I swim
You gotta swim
Through nights that won't end
Swim for your families
Your lovers your sisters
And brothers and friends
Yeah you've gotta swim
Through wars without cause
Swim for the lost politicians
Who don't see their greed as a flaw
The currents will pull us
Away from our love
Just keep your head above
I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the dawn
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
Cracking me open now
I swim for brighter days
Despite the absence of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
Well I'm not giving in
I swim
You gotta swim
Swim in the dark
There's no shame in drifting
Feel the tide shifting and wait for the spark
Yeah you've gotta swim
Don't let yourself sink
Just find the horizon
I promise you it's not as far as you think
The currents will drag us away from our love
Just keep your head above
Just keep your head above
Swim
Just keep your head above
Swim, swim
Just keep your head above
Swim
September 1, 2013
Lyrics from this mornings run
I'm trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
The best thing you've ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously, it's only life after all
Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable
And lightness has a call that's hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it, I'm crawling on your shore.
I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.
...
I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before
And I went in seeking clarity.
I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine...
~ Closer to Fine by The Indigo Girls.
Maybe give me insight between black and white
The best thing you've ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously, it's only life after all
Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable
And lightness has a call that's hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it, I'm crawling on your shore.
I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.
...
I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before
And I went in seeking clarity.
I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine...
~ Closer to Fine by The Indigo Girls.
July 28, 2013
One of those moments
I had an unstructured weekend ahead of me. Nowhere to ride, nowhere to be, no reason to set an alarm in the morning. Plenty to do, but no deadline to get it done.
I had gone to the Mariners game with Steve on Friday night, and in typical fashion, I had left my backpack at his place. It had my laptop and the book I needed to finish this week, so I didn't want to leave it until Monday. I used to curse out loud for these lapses of memory, berating myself for the stupidity, but as I realized my mistake a half hour too late, I just sighed and told myself there was now a trip to Seattle on the schedule. Not getting any smarter, but at least a bit better at keeping things in perspective.
I spent Saturday morning tackling one or two of the boxes that still line my walls and cover my floors. I have been in and out of town the past few weeks, and unpacking has dragged out through unsettled procrastination. Putting off the next round, I decided instead to write. I am writing a bit more these days, and without my laptop I actually spent an hour with pen and paper. In some ways it seems to flow more quickly that way and it was nice to avoid the screen time.
After picking up my backpack full of electronics, I headed back to the eastside. Not ready to go home and face the boxes, I decided to check out a brewery that my friend had recommended. It is within a mile or two of work, but I had not made the time to stop by. Like most small breweries, they had a tasting flight of small pours so you can sample their creations. I haven't brewed in a while, and I was chalking this up to research into my next batch.
The bartender looked very familiar, though for the life of me I could not place her. Strangely, I had run into someone that I hadn't seen in a decade just a few hours earlier, so maybe I was just feeling a wave of connection. I did not see a click of a recognition in her eyes, so I assumed she reminded me of someone I could not place.
I pulled out my book to read. I have been having trouble lately shutting things out and falling into a book. I am still trying to resist the pull of signing up for cable at the house, hoping to spend the time reading and writing instead watching tv. Fortunately the novel I am reading now is different, quirky and good, so I could feel myself being pulled out of my world and into the one on the page.
As I sat there reading and working my way through the tasting flight, left to right, light to dark, a woman from Florida stopped by to chat. She had not seen the tasting flights so common to these breweries, and the curiosity of it made her stop by. As we chatted, the bartender cooed at and kissed a baby rocking in a carrier on the table in front of me.
With the good writing awakening my imagination, the room took on a strange feeling of family and familiarity, in a place I had never been to, having only stopped by on an impulse. Just one of those moments where a layer of fog and routine is peeled back, and your senses feel peaked to peek behind the curtain.
Then this song came on over the sound system. I don't remember it getting a lot of airplay when it was new twenty-five years ago, so it was odd to hear it after all this time. It is not right on the nose, but it does speak to time and moments passing us by while we aren't paying attention. It was a nice moment.
A million young poets
Screamin' out their words
To a world full of people
Just livin' to be heard
Future generations
Ridin' on the highways that we built
I hope they have a better understanding
Check it out
Goin' to work on Monday
Check it out
Got yourself a family
Check it out
All utility bills have been paid
You can't tell your best buddy that you love him
So check it out
Where does our time go
Check it out
Got a brand new house in escrow
Check it out
Sleepin' with your back to your loved one
This is all that we've learned about happiness
Check it out
Forgot to say hello to my neighbors
Check it out
Sometimes I question my own behavior
Check it out
Talkin' about the girls that we've seen on the sly
Just to tell our souls we're still the young lions
So check it out
Gettin' too drunk on Saturdays
Check it out
Playin' football with the kids on Sundays
Check it out
Soarin' with the eagles all week long
And this is all that we've learned about living
This is all that we've learned about living
A million young poets
Screamin' out their words
Maybe someday
Those words will be heard
By future generations
Ridin' on the highways that we built
Maybe they'll have a better understanding
Check it out
Hope they'll have a better understanding
Check it out
Maybe they'll have a better understanding
Check it out
Maybe they'll have a better understanding
Check it out
Hope they have a better understanding
Check it out.....
I had gone to the Mariners game with Steve on Friday night, and in typical fashion, I had left my backpack at his place. It had my laptop and the book I needed to finish this week, so I didn't want to leave it until Monday. I used to curse out loud for these lapses of memory, berating myself for the stupidity, but as I realized my mistake a half hour too late, I just sighed and told myself there was now a trip to Seattle on the schedule. Not getting any smarter, but at least a bit better at keeping things in perspective.
I spent Saturday morning tackling one or two of the boxes that still line my walls and cover my floors. I have been in and out of town the past few weeks, and unpacking has dragged out through unsettled procrastination. Putting off the next round, I decided instead to write. I am writing a bit more these days, and without my laptop I actually spent an hour with pen and paper. In some ways it seems to flow more quickly that way and it was nice to avoid the screen time.
After picking up my backpack full of electronics, I headed back to the eastside. Not ready to go home and face the boxes, I decided to check out a brewery that my friend had recommended. It is within a mile or two of work, but I had not made the time to stop by. Like most small breweries, they had a tasting flight of small pours so you can sample their creations. I haven't brewed in a while, and I was chalking this up to research into my next batch.
The bartender looked very familiar, though for the life of me I could not place her. Strangely, I had run into someone that I hadn't seen in a decade just a few hours earlier, so maybe I was just feeling a wave of connection. I did not see a click of a recognition in her eyes, so I assumed she reminded me of someone I could not place.
I pulled out my book to read. I have been having trouble lately shutting things out and falling into a book. I am still trying to resist the pull of signing up for cable at the house, hoping to spend the time reading and writing instead watching tv. Fortunately the novel I am reading now is different, quirky and good, so I could feel myself being pulled out of my world and into the one on the page.
As I sat there reading and working my way through the tasting flight, left to right, light to dark, a woman from Florida stopped by to chat. She had not seen the tasting flights so common to these breweries, and the curiosity of it made her stop by. As we chatted, the bartender cooed at and kissed a baby rocking in a carrier on the table in front of me.
With the good writing awakening my imagination, the room took on a strange feeling of family and familiarity, in a place I had never been to, having only stopped by on an impulse. Just one of those moments where a layer of fog and routine is peeled back, and your senses feel peaked to peek behind the curtain.
Then this song came on over the sound system. I don't remember it getting a lot of airplay when it was new twenty-five years ago, so it was odd to hear it after all this time. It is not right on the nose, but it does speak to time and moments passing us by while we aren't paying attention. It was a nice moment.
A million young poets
Screamin' out their words
To a world full of people
Just livin' to be heard
Future generations
Ridin' on the highways that we built
I hope they have a better understanding
Check it out
Goin' to work on Monday
Check it out
Got yourself a family
Check it out
All utility bills have been paid
You can't tell your best buddy that you love him
So check it out
Where does our time go
Check it out
Got a brand new house in escrow
Check it out
Sleepin' with your back to your loved one
This is all that we've learned about happiness
Check it out
Forgot to say hello to my neighbors
Check it out
Sometimes I question my own behavior
Check it out
Talkin' about the girls that we've seen on the sly
Just to tell our souls we're still the young lions
So check it out
Gettin' too drunk on Saturdays
Check it out
Playin' football with the kids on Sundays
Check it out
Soarin' with the eagles all week long
And this is all that we've learned about living
This is all that we've learned about living
A million young poets
Screamin' out their words
Maybe someday
Those words will be heard
By future generations
Ridin' on the highways that we built
Maybe they'll have a better understanding
Check it out
Hope they'll have a better understanding
Check it out
Maybe they'll have a better understanding
Check it out
Maybe they'll have a better understanding
Check it out
Hope they have a better understanding
Check it out.....
December 25, 2012
December 13, 2012
Lyrics of the day
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know.
This weakness I feel I must finally show.
In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die.
Where you invest your love, you invest your life.
~"Awake My Soul" by Mumford & Sons
June 25, 2012
Everyday, the world is made
I have a couple of inspirational songs by Switchfoot on my running playlist, including "Dare you to Move" and "This is your Life". Their new song, "Afterlife" will be in heavy rotation.
"Afterlife", by Switchfoot, from the album Vice Verses
"Afterlife", by Switchfoot, from the album Vice Verses
January 16, 2012
Sharing guilty pleasures
Facebook.
What leaps to mind? Amazing online resource that keeps you connected, or platform for narcissistic over-sharing of every detail in your life. The answer is different for everyone. There are a few people in my feed that share even the most banal detail of their day, while others I don't "hear" from for months. Some link to endless articles, while others use Facebook primarily for sharing photos.
I have found myself occasionally defending Facebook. It is a bit of a time suck, but it keeps me in closer contact with distant friends. Things get posted there that aren't big enough events to warrant a phone call or email, but that would probably be mentioned if I was over for dinner. Since those small events sometimes make for the greatest stories, Facebook helps keep me close. No one would have called or emailed about the snow storm in Seattle this week, but I I loved seeing all the photos of their kids playing in the winter wonderland.
Through Facebook, Twitter and blogs, our society has (voluntarily) shifted its idea of what should be kept private, but Facebook has been getting its tendrils deeper and deeper into our business. Many sites encourage (and some require) that you use a Facebook sign-in to use their site. Suddenly what you read, watch and listen to is in the Facebook database, and may just pop up in your feed.
If someone thinks a article or song is worth sharing, it is easy enough for them to do. But I am increasingly seeing things like "John Smith just read this article on XYZ". It appears that Facebook and the news website are looking over your shoulder with a megaphone in hand. Do I really want Spotify to let everyone know that I chose to listen to Vanilla Ice today?
If someone thinks a article or song is worth sharing, it is easy enough for them to do. But I am increasingly seeing things like "John Smith just read this article on XYZ". It appears that Facebook and the news website are looking over your shoulder with a megaphone in hand. Do I really want Spotify to let everyone know that I chose to listen to Vanilla Ice today?
Which brings me to what I listened to on Friday - I am choosing to share my guilty pleasure. Podcasts have been pushing music off my car stereo for a couple of years now, but the Friday night drive home from work has been reserved for music. No playlists, just whole albums so I can listen to those deeper cuts I haven't heard in forever.
I don't remember why this album popped into my head on Friday, but it was one of the first that I ever bought. I came a little late to music. I can remember some introductory presentation in seventh grade that asked what my favorite band was. I didn't have one. I said the Rolling Stones, and then someone asked if I was going to the concert in a couple of months. I mumbled my way out of the corner, but I felt like a huge nerd.
Probably the first album I listened to was the one left in the car by my older brother. It was "Love Drive" by the Scorpions. I played it over and over as I drove in my first set of (borrowed) wheels. And music finally grabbed me. A short time later, thanks to BMG records and their "13 albums for a penny" marketing strategy, I finally had some more music. I don't remember all the cassette tapes (showing my age) that came in that first batch, but I know the album I listened to on Friday was one of them.
The album was "Standing Hampton" by Sammy Hagar. I hadn't listened to it in years, but I knew most every word to all ten songs. The lyrics are stored in that teenage portion of the brain that doesn't ever seem to be overwritten. There are some good ol' rockers including "Only One Way to Rock" and "Heavy Metal" that garnered airplay, as well as "Can't Get Loose" that grabbed at my teenage psyche. The album finishes with a good cover of "Piece of my Heart" that Janis Joplin made famous.
The album didn't qualify as a guilty pleasure back then, but the fact that I have followed Sammy Hagar through Van Halen, good and bad solo records, and now to Chickenfoot probably does. But Friday night with the volume cranked, I didn't much care who saw me singing along. Whatever music you listened to as a teen still grabs you like nothing else can.
When I got home, I mentioned to Matt a different song that had been stuck in my head for a few days. Soon we were both belting out the chorus to "East Bound and Down" from Smokey and the Bandit. Okay, that was a little embarrassing. I may have over-shared.
When I got home, I mentioned to Matt a different song that had been stuck in my head for a few days. Soon we were both belting out the chorus to "East Bound and Down" from Smokey and the Bandit. Okay, that was a little embarrassing. I may have over-shared.
September 10, 2011
Lyrics of the day
I wish I was a neutron bomb, for once I could go off
I wish I was a sacrifice but somehow still lived on
I wish I was a sentimental ornament you hung on
The Christmas tree, I wish I was the star that went on top
I wish I was the evidence, I wish I was the grounds
For 50 million hands upraised and open toward the sky
I wish I was a sailor with someone who waited for me
I wish I was as fortunate, as fortunate as me
I wish I was a messenger and all the news was good
I wish I was the full moon shining off a Camaro's hood
I wish I was an alien at home behind the sun
I wish I was the souvenir you kept your house key on
I wish I was the pedal brake that you depended on
I wish I was the verb 'to trust' and never let you down
I wish I was a radio song, the one that you turned up
I wish...
I wish...
~ "Wishlist" by Pearl Jam
May 21, 2011
I'm not finished yet
As I am sure you have heard elsewhere and everywhere, a small group of people have predicted that the world is going to be very different after 6:00 P.M. tonight. Earthquakes, rapture, end of days sorts of stuff. I did a quick glance over the math involved in calculating that the rapture would occur at six o'clock on May 21st, and it is pretty convoluted. In one part it depends on days equaling years, and it makes me think of the scene from Star Trek II.
I am not taking this any more seriously than any other 'end of the world' predictions, but I am having a hard time totally mocking it. Not that I haven't enjoyed some of the stuff flying around Facebook. The UPS-like notice was pretty funny, and the company of atheists that will watch your pets after you're gone is a clever way to sell piece of mind. But I just can't pile on for some reason. Maybe it is my unsure footing. Would I be mocking this guy's prediction, or the whole concept.
One post I don't understand is, "I know that pastor is crazy, but seriously, who doesn't want to go to heaven sooner rather than later?" This comes from a young, happily married, successful, Christian believer with his first kid on the way. I just don't get it. Heaven's not going anywhere, right. Why would anyone be in a hurry to leave this life.
Then I got off my self-righteous high horse and wondered if I am doing all I can to appreciate this life. And what would I do if I knew it was my last day. Not that today is it, but it could be any day for any one of us. So far today I have given my dog a bath to soothe her irritated skin, took her for a quick walk, returned a long e-mail to a friend, did some other writing, and went for a six mile run around the neighborhood.
It was during the run when this all started to percolate. It is a lovely, sunny day here in San Diego, and the Jacaranda trees are in full, purple bloom. There were a few other runners out, and I exchanged friendly waves with more people than usual. An ice cream cart rolled by, and I noticed how the tone of the ringing bell changed as it approached, and then went by. I heard the throaty rumble of a couple Chevys from the '70s, a beautiful sound no modern car can compare with. While waiting for a light to change, I noticed a perfectly restored 1967 Mustang, a gorgeous specimen of the first car I ever owned. I arrived home safely, feeling much better for the effort, though the toe is giving me some trouble afterwards.
Though I was listening to a podcast while I ran, a new favorite song popped in my head. It is one that was originally passed on in a YouTube video by Matt, and after hearing it once I tracked it down online to buy it. It is great song about how we and our expectations change as we move along through this life. I can't imagine shortening this life by a minute. Warning - there are two f-bombs in the song if that is a concern.
I plan on spending the evening with Kristy, probably working alongside her for a while, but then enjoying a nice meal and a bottle of wine. A perfect end to another lovely day.
We'll start again tomorrow, using lessons from today.
I am not taking this any more seriously than any other 'end of the world' predictions, but I am having a hard time totally mocking it. Not that I haven't enjoyed some of the stuff flying around Facebook. The UPS-like notice was pretty funny, and the company of atheists that will watch your pets after you're gone is a clever way to sell piece of mind. But I just can't pile on for some reason. Maybe it is my unsure footing. Would I be mocking this guy's prediction, or the whole concept.
One post I don't understand is, "I know that pastor is crazy, but seriously, who doesn't want to go to heaven sooner rather than later?" This comes from a young, happily married, successful, Christian believer with his first kid on the way. I just don't get it. Heaven's not going anywhere, right. Why would anyone be in a hurry to leave this life.
Then I got off my self-righteous high horse and wondered if I am doing all I can to appreciate this life. And what would I do if I knew it was my last day. Not that today is it, but it could be any day for any one of us. So far today I have given my dog a bath to soothe her irritated skin, took her for a quick walk, returned a long e-mail to a friend, did some other writing, and went for a six mile run around the neighborhood.
It was during the run when this all started to percolate. It is a lovely, sunny day here in San Diego, and the Jacaranda trees are in full, purple bloom. There were a few other runners out, and I exchanged friendly waves with more people than usual. An ice cream cart rolled by, and I noticed how the tone of the ringing bell changed as it approached, and then went by. I heard the throaty rumble of a couple Chevys from the '70s, a beautiful sound no modern car can compare with. While waiting for a light to change, I noticed a perfectly restored 1967 Mustang, a gorgeous specimen of the first car I ever owned. I arrived home safely, feeling much better for the effort, though the toe is giving me some trouble afterwards.
Though I was listening to a podcast while I ran, a new favorite song popped in my head. It is one that was originally passed on in a YouTube video by Matt, and after hearing it once I tracked it down online to buy it. It is great song about how we and our expectations change as we move along through this life. I can't imagine shortening this life by a minute. Warning - there are two f-bombs in the song if that is a concern.
And when they put me in the groundSo whether or not the guy predicting the Apocalypse is crazy or not (and I sure hope he is), he got me thinking and noticing today. I felt that much more present during my run and it inspired me once again to make the most of what I have.
I'll start pounding the lid,
saying I haven't finished yet.
I still have a tatoo to get
that says "I'm living in the moment".
I plan on spending the evening with Kristy, probably working alongside her for a while, but then enjoying a nice meal and a bottle of wine. A perfect end to another lovely day.
We'll start again tomorrow, using lessons from today.
January 11, 2011
Father and daughter
A cover of "Home" by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. You can't help but smile.
"Home is wherever I'm with you."
December 31, 2010
Messing with a classic, part II
One of the podcasts I listen to played this song while I was out on a run yesterday. It is a take off on "Linus and Lucy" from a "Charlie Brown Christmas". Again, messing with a classic is dangerous territory, but I have to admit it was a great song to run to.
This is the only video I found that featured the song. It has a dog and it is about Christmas, so it's not too bad.
Happy New Year everyone!
This is the only video I found that featured the song. It has a dog and it is about Christmas, so it's not too bad.
Happy New Year everyone!
November 26, 2010
I am my own grandpa
I have this mental block when it comes to the way people are related to each other. I can do math in my head, but after you get past the first branch of the family tree, my eyes glaze over. My brother has it down in his head, and he had tried to explain how we are related to certain people, but without a flowchart I am lost.
One of his lessons stuck though, because I was able to distinguish that Annabelle and Holly's visiting cousin were cousins-once-removed, but quite frankly I couldn't explain to them what a second cousin was. (It has something to do with branching off higher up in the tree. I think).
Matt started singing "I am my own grandpa", a song that everyone had heard but me. I looked it up on Youtube and found this video, with an included flowchart. It still gives me a headache.
The lyrics may help you follow along, but maybe not:
Many, many years ago when I was twenty-three
I was married to a widow who was pretty as could be
This widow had a grownup daughter who had hair of red
My father fell in love with her, and soon they too were wed
This made my Dad my son-in-law and really changed my life
For now my daughter was my mother, 'cause she was my father's wife
And to complicate the matter, even though it brought me joy,
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy
My little baby then became a brother-in-law to Dad
And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad
For if he were my uncle, then that also made him brother
Of the widow's grownup daughter, who was of course my stepmother
Father's wife then had a son who kept them on the run
And he became my grandchild, for he was my daughter's son
My wife is now my mother's mother, and it makes me blue
Because although she is my wife, she's my grandmother too
Now if my wife is my grandmother, then I'm her grandchild
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild
'Cause now I have become the strangest case you ever saw
As husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa
I'm my own grandpa,
I'm my own grandpa,
It sounds funny, I know
But it really is so
I'm my own grandpa
One of his lessons stuck though, because I was able to distinguish that Annabelle and Holly's visiting cousin were cousins-once-removed, but quite frankly I couldn't explain to them what a second cousin was. (It has something to do with branching off higher up in the tree. I think).
Matt started singing "I am my own grandpa", a song that everyone had heard but me. I looked it up on Youtube and found this video, with an included flowchart. It still gives me a headache.
The lyrics may help you follow along, but maybe not:
Many, many years ago when I was twenty-three
I was married to a widow who was pretty as could be
This widow had a grownup daughter who had hair of red
My father fell in love with her, and soon they too were wed
This made my Dad my son-in-law and really changed my life
For now my daughter was my mother, 'cause she was my father's wife
And to complicate the matter, even though it brought me joy,
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy
My little baby then became a brother-in-law to Dad
And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad
For if he were my uncle, then that also made him brother
Of the widow's grownup daughter, who was of course my stepmother
Father's wife then had a son who kept them on the run
And he became my grandchild, for he was my daughter's son
My wife is now my mother's mother, and it makes me blue
Because although she is my wife, she's my grandmother too
Now if my wife is my grandmother, then I'm her grandchild
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild
'Cause now I have become the strangest case you ever saw
As husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa
I'm my own grandpa,
I'm my own grandpa,
It sounds funny, I know
But it really is so
I'm my own grandpa
November 23, 2010
Quote of the day
Hear the voices in my head
I swear to God it sounds like they're snoring.
But if you're bored then you're boring
The agony and the irony,
they're killing me, whoa!
I'm not sick, but I'm not well
~ from "Flagpole Sitta" by Harvey Danger
I swear to God it sounds like they're snoring.
But if you're bored then you're boring
The agony and the irony,
they're killing me, whoa!
I'm not sick, but I'm not well
~ from "Flagpole Sitta" by Harvey Danger
September 8, 2010
New music
I mentioned earlier that I wanted to get back to listening to more music instead of podcasts. On my road trip through Arizona I brought several CD's along that I had not listened to in a long time, and it was great hearing them again as the miles flew by.
Though I have two big boxes of CD's to catch up with, I would love to find some new bands to add to the mix. Back in Seattle, there is this great radio station called The Mountain. They play an eclectic mix of old classics as well as new bands that aren't yet (or never will be) played on more mainstream radio. This was about my only source of new music, and I have not found a similar station down here in San Diego.
Recently, my only discoveries have been from a running podcast I listen to. Steve puts in a single song in the middle of each episode, usually from a new artist that has offered a song up as "podsafe", meaning that podcasters can use it without dealing with copyrights or making payments. Some established artists also release a song or two as podsafe, so occasionally Michael Franti or Ingrid Michaelson will pop up.
We were recently over at a friend's house for a birthday party, and we ended up staying the night. Over breakfast the next morning, the host put on some music, a recent discovery that they love to play on weekend mornings. I enjoyed it and ended up buying the album. I listened to it for the first time during my Grand Canyon run, and it made for a great soundtrack for the morning.
And I thought, this is how I should be discovering new bands, I should be talking to my friends to find out what their latest fave is. So, thanks Jonathan and Lynne for introducing me to Sigh No More
by Mumford and Sons.
I asked my friends in Phoenix the same question, and they came up with some bands I already listen to. When they countered with asking what my latest finds were, I was initially stumped. That's my problem remember - no new music. After thinking for a bit, I guess the most recent bands I have purchased whole albums from are: Brandi Carlile
, Needtobreathe
, and Gomez
. Not new bands, but newer to me. My newest addition just came in today, courtesy again from the Phedipidations podcast. He has played a couple of songs from Great Big Sea, and I ended up getting their Up
album.
Then the other day, Matt was cleaning out the shed and dropped this in my room.
He knew I was looking for music, so he offered these up before they were sent off to the Salvation Army. No new bands, but I did find some older stuff that I didn't have.
So, what is your latest musical find? I'd love to hear about it.
Though I have two big boxes of CD's to catch up with, I would love to find some new bands to add to the mix. Back in Seattle, there is this great radio station called The Mountain. They play an eclectic mix of old classics as well as new bands that aren't yet (or never will be) played on more mainstream radio. This was about my only source of new music, and I have not found a similar station down here in San Diego.
Recently, my only discoveries have been from a running podcast I listen to. Steve puts in a single song in the middle of each episode, usually from a new artist that has offered a song up as "podsafe", meaning that podcasters can use it without dealing with copyrights or making payments. Some established artists also release a song or two as podsafe, so occasionally Michael Franti or Ingrid Michaelson will pop up.
We were recently over at a friend's house for a birthday party, and we ended up staying the night. Over breakfast the next morning, the host put on some music, a recent discovery that they love to play on weekend mornings. I enjoyed it and ended up buying the album. I listened to it for the first time during my Grand Canyon run, and it made for a great soundtrack for the morning.
And I thought, this is how I should be discovering new bands, I should be talking to my friends to find out what their latest fave is. So, thanks Jonathan and Lynne for introducing me to Sigh No More
by Mumford and Sons.I asked my friends in Phoenix the same question, and they came up with some bands I already listen to. When they countered with asking what my latest finds were, I was initially stumped. That's my problem remember - no new music. After thinking for a bit, I guess the most recent bands I have purchased whole albums from are: Brandi Carlile
, Needtobreathe, and Gomez. Not new bands, but newer to me. My newest addition just came in today, courtesy again from the Phedipidations podcast. He has played a couple of songs from Great Big Sea, and I ended up getting their Up album.Then the other day, Matt was cleaning out the shed and dropped this in my room.
He knew I was looking for music, so he offered these up before they were sent off to the Salvation Army. No new bands, but I did find some older stuff that I didn't have.
So, what is your latest musical find? I'd love to hear about it.
August 20, 2010
Hooray, pizza day!
Friday is pizza day at the house. Pizza is an easy meal at the end of the week, and quite frankly, pizza is something to look forward to. Pizza day is a happy day.
There is even a song about it. The Pheddipidations podcast features a song each week by an independent artist, and one week it was "Pizza Day" by Jonathan Coulton. He wrote in honor of the (best) school lunch. As he says, "In my school, it was Friday. The pizza wasn’t any good at all, but you can’t really argue with pizza at school can you?".
You can hear it here. I picked it up at iTunes, but it looks like you can get it for free on his blog if you are interested.
There is even a song about it. The Pheddipidations podcast features a song each week by an independent artist, and one week it was "Pizza Day" by Jonathan Coulton. He wrote in honor of the (best) school lunch. As he says, "In my school, it was Friday. The pizza wasn’t any good at all, but you can’t really argue with pizza at school can you?".
You can hear it here. I picked it up at iTunes, but it looks like you can get it for free on his blog if you are interested.
Did you notice something?
Did the world seem different since the moment you woke up today?
Everyone’s excited
Everyone feels happy in a way they can’t explain today
Doesn’t matter who you are
How your week has been so far
Cause you know when lunch time comes, that everything will be OK
Hooray, pizza day
Hooray, pizza day
Some of us are lucky
Some of us have lots of friends, our tables will be full today
Some of us are lonely
Some of us have no one but it doesn’t matter much today
Even if we don’t belong
We know another week is gone
And we know before too long, the whole damned thing will go away
Hooray, pizza day
Hooray, pizza day
July 24, 2010
The mix tape
I am about two-thirds of the way through Love is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time
. The book is a memoir about the author's love of music, the courtship and marriage to his wife Renee, and her all-too-sudden death after five years of marriage. He uses these mix tapes created by he and his wife to place himself at certain times in his life. The mix tapes serve as both a launching pad and a soundtrack to the story.The author's passion for music has reminded me how much it is missing in my life these days. I listen to much less music since I started listening to podcasts. The podcast list keeps growing, and I follow almost 30 on a regular basis, so it leaves little time for music. The soundtrack of driving, exercise, and odd chores is now filled up with talk instead of music. I love listening to podcasts, but I miss the music.
I dragged all my CDs down to San Diego, two large boxes in all. A few people asked "why?" since I only had so much room in the truck, and music is largely digital now. But I have only loaded a portion of my music onto the computer, and my Nano can only hold some fraction of what I own.
CD sales have been dropping for years. Originally it was a illegal downloads that were cutting into sales. The music industry did its best to fight it, with some success. Now of course there are many legal ways to downloads individual songs (iTunes, Amazon, etc.), but by making it so easy to purchase individual songs, few people are buying the whole album these days.
Like others, the iPod has also pushed me towards listening to individual songs, rather than full albums. And I miss this too. When I do chose music these days, I typically listen to a few playlists I have created, or just hit shuffle and see what comes up. But there is a real appeal to listening to an album. Some albums are structured to rise and fall, each song building on the one before. And there are the hidden jewels buried on side B (when there was a side B), songs you never hear on the radio. And if all you do is buy individual songs, you never have a chance to make those discoveries.
So it is time to turn off the podcasts for a while to make time for music in my life. Less talk, more rock. The author had much more indy taste in music than I did, but there are some albums he mentioned that I have still buried in those boxes I dragged down. Time to dig through those boxes and put the CDs back in the car stereo where they belong.
And like the author, I made a ton of mix tapes when I was younger. I still have them in my storage unit in Seattle, and even just looking them over will take me back to when I made them. Now I kind of wish I had them down here with me. Of course I don't know what I would play them on.
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