Livin' and a workin'. Given that I am not the biggest Huey Lewis fan, this is an interesting choice. In fact, I could be called the smallest Huey Lewis fan. He is, for me, in the same category as (sorry) The Pretenders or Katrina and the Waves, i.e., when they come on the radio, I pick another station. Which reminds me that I just heard recently that 80s music is now officially "oldies". What does that make the classic girl songs of the 60s, cultural anthropology? I understand why it happens, I just don't feel as old as my parents were when their music became oldies.
I do love music-- all music. When I was 16, I used to say that I loved "all music except jazz and reggae". Very soon after making that statement, I learned to love both. When I said it, by all music, I probably meant "all music that is on my local radio station" which was in the category "Rock" in those days. Quiet Riot and AC DC. Bob Seeger. Tom Petty. This was the eve of "New Wave" when the techno sounds of Casio and drum machine went into battle against classic drums-and-guitar rock and roll music. When Duran Duran duked it out with Bruce Springsteen and everyone won. Sort of. It was like a musicultural lava lamp: you could feel the oil and the wax of the opposing audio forces moving back and forth against each other, with your ears in the middle.
I love classical, opera, dancehall reggae, folk, rap, disco, house, dance, 50s, 60s, 70s, you name it. Benny Goodman, Dean Martin, the Beach Boys, the Ronettes, the Beatles, the Eagles, the Cure, Modest Mouse and Mary J. Blige. I monkey-bar from one genre to another like a serial monogamist exchanges college boyfriends. Today I listened to some piano music and some opera, and Un Bel Di sung by Leontyne Price made me cry. Again.
But where was I going when I started? I've been working a lot lately, and so have pushed the blogging to the side a little bit. But there has been so much going on! The weather was awful, now the weather is beautiful again. Last week, I was so busy that I freaked myself out completely, and this week, it's all falling into place. Last week, of course, was the week of Terrible Technical Difficulties, when one small update (I'll get you for this, Apple!) created a week's worth of problems that required hours and hours on the line with various "support" entities and resulted in the following conversation:
(While waiting for a download)
(Spoken in Indian accent) Do you have any hobbies?
Uh, yeah, my husband and I like to kayak, and I read a lot, exercise.... do you know what a kayak is?
No I don't ma'am.
It's like a canoe-- a narrow boat for one or two people that you paddle. It's fun to take in the lake or river.
Oh. Do you like music?
Yeah, sure, I like all kinds of music (as you now know). Why do you ask?
I ask because I am a DJ.
Oh really, what kind of music do you play?
Psychedelic and House.
That would be "Keith". I talked to Keith, Kevin, Nadine, Heather and Erin. At least. And Jay, who told me that doing an archive-install wouldn't change any of my files. Never, ever listen to Tier One Support. Always go to the next level.
Things seem to be (crossing fingers) ok today. I have my G5 running, and the "craptop" or out- of-date Dell laptop running right along in the office. I'm making PowerPoint (o joy!) presentations and troubleshooting them on the red-headed step-computer, since it is the lowest common denominator. But it is time-consuming and thus, I have not been keeping up with posts on either blog. And no hyperlinks for you, either. If you need to look something up, you're going to have to do it yourself.
Today, by the way, is the kickoff to my BIRTHDAY, because I received a card in the mail from a friend. I don't think that she realized that birthdays last from the first wish to the last, but she just made my birthday almost a week longer! (Thanks, Tani!) What a treat it was to open the post office box and find a real, hand-addressed, hand-written card! I don't know if people remember how special that is anymore. Email has taken the place of so much personal communication that it's rare to see your friends' handwriting anymore. I miss the friendly, careful, rounded print of my friend Karen, Tani's precise, tiny, swirling cursive, Janet's dynamic, irregular, angular script. My friend Catherine and I wrote letters from the time we were 9 years old and I moved away to Modesto, until we temporarily lost touch with each other in college. And we are back in touch again. Her handwriting is her, as much as her voice or her laugh or her face.
Which reminds me, because I am rambling right now, and I've felt out of touch this week, I LOVE my friends. If there is anyone I've ever loved, they never get un-loved. When I see someone I love, no matter how long it has been since the last time, I am so happy to see them. The recurring characters of my life. Time is irrelevant. I'm happy just to jump back in.
Wouldn't it be great if heaven was a big coffee shop, like on Friends, where you got to sit around and endlessly catch up and laugh with all of your favorite people? And eat amazing food that wouldn't make you fat, because you'd be permanently beautiful basking in the love of all of your friends. And animals could talk and they'd hang out with you, and all the extinct things would come back to life, except icky things like giant cockroachy slime beetles. And there would be lots of music. And dancing, except when I danced in heaven (like no one was watching? ugh!) I wouldn't look like someone's mom trying to be cool, I'd look like Britney before she lost it, except I'd be the me version of that.
Oh look! A chicken!
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