eor

I'm the only one you loves you enough to post this link.

Of Monsters and Men

Trojan Tarantella Accordion Duo, you know you want to.

This evening derien picked up the package containing my new JH Audio in ear monitors. I've been dreaming about these for years, got the molds made almost a year ago, and took advantage of a black Friday sale to finally order them.

( Thoughts so far: )

Overall, the sound is wow inducing and the fit is very comfortable.

I've been listening to Steve Riley and the Mamou Playboys this evening. I adore zydeco music. So many of the songs make me want to dance and move around, it's a great motivator. Maybe tomorrow I'll dust off the vinyl I have by Buckwheat Zydeco. If everyone had zydeco, there would be no war.

It is bright, sunny, and beautiful here today. It is so warm it feels like summer. This is a grand treat.

Last weekend we took the time to go out in support of our favorite independent record store on the day designated for support of such institutions. When we drove to the location in town, where we usually go, there was a line literally around the block to get in. We skipped that and went to the other branch out by the mall. It was also busy, but at least we could get in the door. We wandered around, but were disappointed in both the selection and the prices. We finally left dejected.

Today we went out again. This time we were able to walk right into our usual spot just like always. The selection was a lot better, with good variety and a lot of used. The prices were enticing on a few things that we wouldn't have otherwise gotten.

( The haul )

Now I'm going to clean the house and listen to music. Maybe later there will be a bit of rum involved.

Before the Berlin Wall fell, I had a portable cassette player. (You kids remember what those were?!) This wasn't a walkman, this was a little bigger than Spock's tricorder, but shaped much the same. Best of all it could work on batteries or plug into the wall with a detachable cord! It had a speaker, but I always used the headphone jack.

I sat in front of the fuzzy green screen terminal nursing a poor understanding of COBOL until my eyes were destroyed and I needed glasses. The process was always the same: type for a short while, submit the job, sit and wait for the job to crawl up the queue, get error messages, debug, repeat ad nauseam. Student jobs always had the lowest priority so at times the wait bit could last better than two hours. Then the moment of ecstatic joy, the job made it to #1 in the queue: executing. Over all too soon, a status of how many cards were read and a list of errors. Yes, this machine still thought it was reading punch cards. An 80 column character limit on lines because that's how many holes you can fit on a card.

Afternoons would find me waiting in line for a place to sit. When others gave up the ghost I would float into their spot pale as Casper. I would show up early on Saturday mornings to get a seat in the tiny room. Plug in, put my headphones on, and begin. I might leave for lunch. I might not. The routine was always the same. Listen, wait, flip the cassette, listen, wait, flip back to side one. Sometime after noon or night I'd go home or down to the pay phone.

"Every one is a super hero,
every one is a Captain Kirk,
with orders to identify,
clarify, and classify"

I was terminally in love.

The Wall fell. Schools, states, and computer languages came and went like autumn leaves. But I still wear the glasses I earned that year. And I still prefer to program on a green screen.

"Down the beaches hand in hand,
twelfth of never on the sand.
And we said we'd be the pirate twins again
In the freezing rain of the Eastern Bloc"

Despite sore throats and exhaustion, derien and I went to the 30th Annual Thomas Point Bluegrass Festival this year. Part of the impetus was that this is supposed to be the final festival at Thomas Point. I went for one day last year, but I really wanted to experience the late night picking, so we spent Saturday and Sunday at the festival.

The field picking was a lot of fun. There were groups of pickers forming and changing all around the picking area. You could just wander from song to song and group to group. We wandered around listening to that for a couple of hours. When we were finally done they were still going.

My personal favorite bands were "The White Mountain Bluegrass Band", "The Doerfel Family", and "The Tennessee Mafia Jug Band", but there were lots of good bands. derien's favorite was probably "The Bluegrass Diamonds", but they still couldn't teach her the deep mysteries of harmonies.

There were many striking things about the festival. This year the area was much more full than last year, the campers were packed in like sardines and our Saturday morning arrival put us out in the way back expansion field. At this Maine festival, more than five hours from Canada and less than three from Boston, there were as many or more Canadians than Americans. The generosity of the crowd and of the performers was amazing: youth are encouraged and nurtured, elders are honored and respected. That's not just talk, they actual walk the walk in very real ways.

The campground has been operating since the 1950's. In ways it feels like a throwback: the trees are mature, the buildings were built back in the days of camps and campgrounds, electricity is provided to sites via massive volumes of extension cord. There are no full hookups, level cement pads, and easy interstate access. It is a truly beautiful place in the old style. I hope it continues, despite the odds to the contrary.

"We sang the songs of childhood,
Hymns of faith that made us strong,
Ones that Mother Maybelle taught us,
Hear the angels sing along."

I just took a big ol' sniff of a bag of paprika to see how fresh it smelled. Seconds later I realized that the bag was in fact, not paprika. Cayanne is a different animal altogether. The first sneeze was earthshaking. Now every mucous membrane in my head is in a tizzy of epic proportions. Perhaps I should go flush out my nasal passages with something more mellow like bear spray.

"fire in my heart
is burnin' out of control.
Fire, fire in my soul!" -- The Toasters

"Most of all, don't tell me that you love me,
forbidden fruit is not in the recipe for chutney." -- The Suspect "Chutney Song"

"I don't care to eat out in smart restaurants,
I'd rather do a vindaloo, takeaway is what I want." -- Jethro Tull "Tall Thin Girl"

This isn't very coherent, but it's the best I can do at the moment.

Yesterday we went to Cambridge to meet up with LJ people! We met up with bravecows,shati,genarti,sandrylene,bookelfe,foreverdirt, and schiarire. I didn't get much chance to talk to anyone in particular due to the natural chaos of a nine way conversation, but everyone was nice, friendly, and humorous and I would recommend interacting with them if you get a chance. I don't know if I'd get the same recommendation from any of them, I felt like the thorn among roses. I wish we could have stayed for dinner with them, but that would have been killer both on the drive home and work this morning.

Things derien and I did earlier in the day:

We had lunch at the Gandhi restaurant on Mass Ave just past central square. We'd never been there before. We both had the buffet and found the selections very tasty. Most notably, their tandoor chicken was full of flavor and moist, not dry and tasteless like much of the tandoor chicken you find.

Acquired spices at the Shalimar grocery on Mass Ave.

We went to the used bookstore on Mass Ave., just beyond central square. Is it Robert's or Richard's? Something like that. We also went to the Harvard Book Store (twice). Our collection from both shops:

( Our collection from both shops: )

We also stopped in "In Your Ear!" a second hand music shop that has been in different locations in the city for decades. The CD's that we were browsing were either $1 or $5.

( The list )
Some of them are bound to be dogs, but what the hell we can always try to sell them up here.

We got home just about in time to crash and start the week of labor.

Usually I'm a mellow happy ska guy, but...

"Nice, nice, nice, nice neighborhood,
and nice place to raise the kids,
there tough things to obtain but Dr. D he did." --- Mighty Mighty Bosstones "Dr. D"

there are sometimes when hardcore just is the shit. Afterall, sometimes it's awfully quiet.