is it in my head?
03.18.03 @ 9:21 p.m.
Ru-u-die can't fail! Okay, I have the Clash stuck in my head all day because I'm at home with my parents and they happen to be taking care of a little fellow named Rudy. He's a Pembroke Welsh Corgi like my own dear Dolly-Roo. They do not always get along that well because my dog is a jealous little thing. Anyway. Listening to the Clash with a dog named Rudy around makes me go around singing "Rudie Can't Fail." It's probably very annoying.
I'm sure your shock will know no bounds when I tell you that I actually sold a Who CD today. Ah, but before you find yourself feeling faint at the very thought of it, I'll admit that I traded up. I sold my pre-fall of the Berlin wall copy of Who's Next in favor of the reissue version with all it's lovely bonus tracks, including "Pure and Easy." I'm surprised at how well I seem to know that song, even if it is on the Ultimate Collection. I don't listen to very many songs on the second disc of that album, mainly just the stuff from Quadrophenia and a few others. I need to listen more to "Join Together" and "Long Live Rock." Hmm. It appears that the jewel case on the Ultimate Collection has given out and I'll need to buy a new one.
What have I done today? Well, I got up early and caught a Greyhound back up to Portland, which was crowded because it was full of people going from Los Angeles to Seattle. And, horror of horrors, I forgot to pack extra batteries for when my CD player gave out no more than three minutes into the bus ride. I fidgeted around, trying to think of something to do (I also stupidly only brought a book I was nearly finished with) and eventually pulled out my laptop to listen to music and design 10 more Who desktop patterns. I have a couple new kickass Pete designs with three variations on every image. I have about 70 pictures in rotation for my desktop, but it's actually variations on about 8 pictures. I make three versions of almost every picture. I think I caught the Chinese guy across the aisle watching me work on them during the bus ride, which was slightly odd. The Eugene Greyhound station has a new pinball machine, though. Flinstones (the movie, though, John Goodman's voice drifted from the speakers when a couple of people played it while I was waiting for my bus to arrive) replaced the old Pool Sharks machine that the creepy clerk used to play on Friday afternoons. I am far too familiar with the routines of the Greyhound station of a Friday. Anyway, the bus got in a half hour early, so I sat in the station reading while I waited for my dad, who came in and said "Oh, I got here fifteen minutes ago, I've been waiting in the truck." Well, damn. I could have gone home fifteen minutes earlier, but we had to be silly about it, didn't we?
To be fair, when is Greyhound ever early, though?
Dad and I hunted through all the used CD stores in the shopping center near my house for a used copy of Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols or reissues of Who CDs I don't have. (I rejected a copy of Who Are You, despite being a reissue, because the booklet was very water damaged.) Very little luck. Me wanting that Sex Pistols CD has made it so now Dad points out postcards with Sid Vicious and Johnny Rotten on them, saying "There're your guys!" Um, right. I should just try to get it from the Library. In fact, I might try to see if the online reservation system is working. Anyway. Dad bought a Muddy Waters CD (I can hardly imagine there being one he doesn't already have, though) and gave me ten bucks for my new copy of Who's Next. It's been a good day for me musically... the guy charged me two dollars less than the marked price on my CD, and I got four bucks for the ancient copy dad gave me last Christmas.
And how weird is it that after pouring out some pent-up Who enthusiasm to my dad during the car ride today the Simpsons showed the Who episode? It's only a couple of years old, and it's funny that they drew the Who as they looked in the late seventies rather than how they look now. For recognition's sake? Vanity?
I do not like that my dad was up here a minute ago and read the first lines of this over my shoulder. I was explaining the blog phenomenon to my parents who of course went to the "How do you know the people reading you aren't stalking you?" Well, I don't, but hell, no one I know (except Leah, I guess) knows the address of this. So what does it matter? The cathartic value is too much. And I try not to be overly detailed about where I live, etc. I mean what specific hall, anyway. Dorm life is too hellish this year to not mention it.
So now I'm back in the rural glory that is my parents' house. Not that I've particularly done anything farm-ish today. It was fucking cold and I could play music loud, but I didn't go out and pet the goat or anything. Or look for the cow. Or go for a walk in the fields. It's too wet, or I might consider it. I've been rather romantically wistful for the fields after talking to E* one day about the general area in which I live. She was up near here last year for a philosophy conference at Pacific University I'm also desperately longing to do some kind of artwork or craft thing. I sketched a photo of a dog that was alive when I was a baby (my dad said "Do you remember Pepe? You used to sleep on her stomach." There are photos of me as baby curled up on this German Shepherd, it's cute) but that didn't do it for me. I want to paint or something. The problem, of course, is that I suck at painting. I'm not good with color. Black and white, that's not a problem for me. I like monochrome. Hell, just look at this page. Isn't my variety of color just astounding?
Wow. I just used italics to convey sarcasm. Okay, I've written quite enough for tonight. Maybe I'll go get whomped by my dad at seven-card rummy if he's done with his dog chores. ("Dog chores" being our euphemism for maintaining the poop factory out there. His primary concerns are feeding the dogs and carting away the, er, output.)
One last thing: I think my dad's favorite adjective (at least when discussing music, or at least when discussing my music) is 'beatlesque'. It annoys the fuck out of me.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
