I am not getting any better at the guitar, so I am not practicing, so therefore I am not getting any better at the guitar, and so on until the snake consumes itself.
I was watching Lindsey Buckingham on Colbert last week and I thought, “Is he playing power chords?” I was all prepared to feel just terrible about myself watching him play all the notes at top speed, dancing just the tips of his fully perpendicular fingers along the all the frets. But no. Power chords.
He ventured past the power chords pretty quickly after the first verse, but still, it made me wonder if he just had that guitar tuned so that all he had to do was just clamp a finger across the strings and move it around. I mean, that is rock and roll, but still.
A few minutes later I was on the Internet, then an hour after that I had a scheme to have one guitar with regular tuning, then another with drop-D tuning, then another with DADGAD tuning, then just pick up the guitar that best suited the key of the song I wanted to play.
That little manic episode dried up pretty fast and I decided instead that alternatively I could just learn how to play in something other than open position, that would probably help.
I have this theory that every person my age has heard every single Beatles song. Perhaps some we’ve heard just once, like You Know My Name Look Up My Number. But we’ve heard every one, somewhere.
This is why I was surprised to hear of an entire Beatles album I’d never heard of before.
Beatles: For Sale
Then I read that one was released mainly in the United Kingdom. In the US most of the songs were on Beatles ‘65.
Yep, nope, never heard of that album either.
My next question: how crappy is this album? And, have I heard every song?
Answers: not crappy but creepy, and yes, on the US record there were some covers I’d never heard, but on Beatles For Sale there were three Lennon/MCartney songs I’d never heard: Every Little Thing, I Don't Want to Spoil the Party, and What You're Doing.
I felt the sentiment in Every Little Thing was particularly creepy. “Every little thing she does / She does for me, yeah / And you know the things she does / She does for me, oooh,” Uuuugh.
Well, I was making a summary of what I have accomplished so far, and I discovered two things:
I am only halfway done when I thought I was at least 80% done, and
Things in the middle have changed and now my twist at the end makes no sense.
It took me half a day to hammer the twist out and then back in again. Everything fits logically now, but it probably requires some explanation that will slow things down.
On top of that, I have found that back in the day the post office would be nearer the train station, probably in the train station, so I decided the train station was just built recently to handle the oil production, so the post office can stay where it is … and no one cares but me.
Painting and playing the guitar are much easier than this.
I was utterly unprepared for the January 6 protest/uprising/insurrection. (I encourage you to pick your noun. I would say the idiots outside on the lawn were protesting. the idiots on the steps beating police officers were criminals, and as for the idiots inside, saying they were insurrectionists gives them too much credibility. Idiots inside admiring the sculpture hall and staying between the velvet ropes were idiots swept up in the mob. Alternatively, the idiots inside who were defecating and chanting, they need to have Mike Pence come to their homes and pry up their baseboards and poop in their living rooms.)
Supposedly a new batch of idiots will be back tomorrow, September 18. The capitol police have put the fencing around the Capitol again, and lately around the Supreme Court. Why not the White House? Supposedly 78% of Republicans think Biden was not legitimately elected. That number isn’t so high when you realize fewer and fewer label themselves Republican.
Enough with this nonsense. We have hurricanes, floods, a plague, swarms of flies, cicadas, armyworms, wars and rumors of wars. Do we really need an armed revolution this year?
Since the first days of DVDs, Gary has stoutly refused to watch the commentary track. If I try to watch the commentary he leaves the room in protest.
I can’t tell you why.
Is it because an expert is telling him things he doesn’t know, and therefore he cannot be the expert?
Is it because someone is talking over a movie and it’s sensory overload?
Is it because it spoils the magic?
No, it can’t be that last one — he gobbles up all those “Making of” documentaries. In fact, he has rediscovered his set of discs for Blade Runner with every damn version of Blade Runner ever made, and I finally convinced him to watch the “work print” with the commentary turned on.
I watched him for the twenty minutes that he could tolerate of the commentary and I’m fairly certain it’s the first reason. Not being the expert makes him very cranky. (See all posts in which he has to listen to doctors or use repairmen.) He already gets a little cranky when I go to IMDB and share details he doesn’t know.
I suppose when he’s watching a movie his imagination is stimulated and he makes up his own reasons and motivations (such as the “suicide” at the end of The Heiress). Then he’s confronted with what the director actually meant and it enrages him and he becomes Gary Godzilla, squashing directors and smashing movie sets and rearranging them.
As it turns out, half of IMDB is transcribed director commentaries, so l’m good never seeing another. I’ll need to take some time to manipulate Gary into an expert position soon so he can get his expert fix in some constructive way.
The sports bra that I bought specifically for the sport of Making Zoom Calls has arrived.
This is how it was presented on Amazon.
I don’t know what dainty sport that women is participating in that would require a bra for those chicken cutlets. Well, that’s not fair. Maybe she’s a marathon runner and any breasts would need some protection after 26.2 miles.
I anticipated my chest nonsense would look very different in the big girl’s version of this bra.
As it turns out, i am entirely covered and it is quite comfortable. It does make a uniBoob, but that’s to be expected. It’s also very easy to unzip when you want to be free and re-zip when the doorbell rings. Zip up, add a mask, fit for company.
If I wanted my blog to feel old, I would say, “You had a Nokia cell phone, and you are only five years younger than the war in Afghanistan.”
This blog is so old (how old is it (she said like an old person who remember Johnny Carson)) — it is so old it only had to look back five years for the first September 11 post: Where I was on September 11.
Thankfully, HEAD ON didn’t have a catchy tune and a special dance.
Fancy Like does.
This means that every commercial break I think, “You say ‘Bougie’ like it’s a good thing. Read your Marx and stop bragging about being bourgeois, you oppressors.”
Then I realized I am the bougiest of all, and I do like Applebee’s fajitas and applaud them for jumping on that viral marketing and bringing back the Oreo shake, and for beating out Wendy’s and Natural Light, and good for the songwriter for writing a song that panders to three massive companies. I also like the lyrics and the tune. I just don’t want to hear it every 20 minutes.