Watching two women who seem to be old friends having a great time, even though one speaks very little English, just made my day.
Archive for 2005
Its interesting that the troubadours of old sang songs of love with an instrument called the “lyre.” Don’t read the word. Say it. “Lyre.”
I was walking around today listening to my portable CD player. That’s right a portable CD player. I don’t have an iPod. People with iPod kept staring at me like I was an attraction at a 1800s freak show.
“Come and see the 90s Negro! He can’t afford an iPod and listens to different magical discs that only have 13 tracks of the same artist. He can only carry a few around with him! What a wondrous horrible creature! Witness him deal with scratches and CD stores!”
Its a CD player! People look at me like I’m carrying around an 8 track player plugged into a Victrola powered by a hamster chasing a piece of lettuce in a running wheel that I motivate with a tiny whip that is also a lightening rod in case the hamster tires or dies. I guess its just nice to know that I can add “iPodless” to a the growing list of things people use to discriminate. Yay! More options for living, more options for hatred.
Somehow I’ve lost a $300 suit that was tailored to fit me perfectly and was given to me for free. Its like I’m Bush and the suit is…er…uh…I got nothing.
My bathtub is so clogged that the backed up water takes forever to drain after a shower. So I’ve been taking showers with my feet in water that’s days old. But I say to myself, well it’s no worse the the Ganges and that’s a holy place. So if anyone wants to worship and pray in my bathtub, you know how to find me.
I was just reorganizing my CD collection which brings me great pleasure. (yes, CDs. I don’t have an iPod and don’t really want one). I take my collection very seriously because it and my books are only real things I own and have cultivated. I thought it might be reavealing to share a few things about my collection since you can learn a lot about a person by what they listen to. So I thought I’d show you everything in my “j” and “s” section. I organize in alphabetical order by artist name and date of release for the same artist (certain aesthetic excpetions apply). If there is a BLANK. Its because I lent that one out or lost it and want to get another copy.
Save Ferris –
Franz Schubert – 3 CD Compilation
Skypark – Overbluecity (have never listened to)
Snoop Dogg – Rhythm and Gangsta
Sublime – 40 oz. to Freedom
The O.C. Supertones – Chase the Sun (never listen to)
Swayzak – Himawari
Michael Jackson -
Keith Jarrett – The Melody at Night, With You
Jamiroquai – Return of the Space Cowboy
The Jayhawks – Smile (only ever listen to the 1st song)
Antonio Carlos Jobim – Personalidade
Quincy Jones – From Q with Love (double disc)
So there you have it. I’m like a lot of different stuff yo!
Women find honesty mysterious.
I don’t like my crooked teeth because they match my soul.
I was in a book store the other day and saw a book called “Best of Broadway 2004.” I’ve seen this book before. Its an encyclopedia of pretty much the entire theatre season for whatever year it says. I thought to myself “Hey, I was on Broadway in 2004.” So I turned to the index and sure enough behold my name was lo. I felt good about that. Then I bombed last night. So that keeps me in check. Its all about checks and balances.
PS. A stripper or hooker named Chastity is always funny.
A snippet of a conversation 2 teenage girls had next to me on the R train on Sunday afternoon. These two girls were having a rather passionate debate over what one of them should do with their lives. She really likes creative writing, but has the test scores to become a biologist, doctor or lawyer. Listening to these girls talk was like every sardonic, informed teenager cliche’ rolled into one big stew.
It took a great deal of strength to not reach out and shake them mercilessly. I had to make myself remember it doesn’t look good to a passer-by to see a black man angrily shaking too teenage girls while yelling “You shouldn’t exist!” Yeah, that’d be hard to explain.