lay, lady, lay
02.14.04 @ 10:41 p.m.
Far too often I've gone on about my hearing and how I'm pretty damn sure that I can hear higher pitches than most. I bring this up now because I stole my dad's Essential Bob Dylan for the night (why he has this I don't know, since I think he has all the albums, but then, why do I have the Who's Ultimate Collection? Sometimes singles don't become album tracks. But Dylan's "All Along the Watchtower" has a lot of harmonica and... I think it's the high hearing that makes me very sensitive to high harmonica and electric guitar. I suppose if I listen enough I'll kill my hearing and it won't matter anyway. But the high screechy stuff is what my dad loves and caused a lot of problems between us in the last, uh, I don't know how many years because the music pains me, or at least it did. And so I complained. And I wasn't believed.
Anyway. Why am I making it sound like Dad and I aren't getting along? We're getting along great this weekend. Tonight we all watched four episodes of the Twilight Zone on a DVD I checked out from the library in Eugene. Perhaps the greatest moment (though there were many comical-in-retrospect moments) was in "The Fugitive" where a little girl was asking Old Ben what his crime was. "Did you rob a bank?" No. "Did you kill somebody?" No, no. "Then you must be a Communist!" This is the point where my Dad and I are near paralyzed with laughter. My mom didn't seem to think it was as funny as we did, but oh, it was funny. Rod Sterling had a dark view of humanity, I'd say. But damn was he good at old scifi and the end twist.
Today was relaxed. I got up pretty early, at least for me on a weekend. Mom and I went to the library at 1-ish after I made her a pair of mix CDs, which took up my morning. I got a pile of romance novels off the paperback exchange which made me feel a bit pathetic when I thought about it later. But I don't have time to read what I want to read anymore, so I've been picking up things that don't take more than an hour or two to read and don't really require me to think. Fluff. And yet nothing I would read in public. Too embarassing. Later I made a CD for my dad with less thought input but he seemed pleased with it. Slightly eclectic, but he said it looked interesting. Mostly I'm really, really happy that my mom seems to genuinely like and is intrigued by the discs I made for her.
And it turns out that the local library has tapes of Father Ted. Go figure. More than the Eugene one has. Something to look forward to over spring break, I guess.
I'm going back to Eugene tomorrow after a dog show. I'm a bit sad that I have to go home when I feel like I've hardly spent any time here and I looked into ways to stay tomorrow, too, without missing classes, but in the end it's better for me to go back for any number of reasons. It meant, though, that Mom and I had to cancel our plans to go see Girl With a Pearl Earring tonight in favor of familial hanging out. We talked about going to a matinee tomorrow, but that's not practical.
I wonder how I can miss my parents when they're just downstairs. I wonder what's making me so fucking nostalgic all of a sudden.
I'm really just disgusted by the people who are up in arms about gay marriage. What's so fucking precious about the word "marriage" that people are having heart attacks about it applying to people of the same sex? And if anyone answers that... no. Just don't. No one will change my mind and anyone who makes some kind of rant will just be privately mocked by me and I'll sit back content in my mental superiority. So spare both of us the hassle and sit back in your own perceived superiorty and we'll all be happy.
Oh man, some girl just crashed her car an hour ago or so into a Subway south of my parents' house, on West Union Road. That's hilarious. I wonder if we'll see it tomorrow morning on the way to the show, but I bet my dad is going backroads to the freeway to Albany. On the news they said her boot got stuck on the accelerator, but I misheard and thought she said "boobs" and pictured a generously proportioned girl stuck in her steering wheel, which was, eh, sort of funny.
Now for a shower and SNL. I've finally gotten the second disc of the Bob Dylan CD and have "Lay, Lady, Lay" on my computer after having it randomly stuck in my head several times over the last couple of weeks.
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
