A somewhat random thought while at work

Thought of this today, while at work:

I've known Old Roommate for over 30 years.  Yow.  (I am old.)

Which means that I've know him for longer than I've not known him.

Furthermore:  in a few years, I'll have known him for two-thirds of my life.

That's pretty cool.  :)   (He's a good guy.)


--GG

Devo classified

Visited a CD store on my lunch break.

I was slightly disappointed to discover that Devo wasn’t in the “Alternative” section: they are now found in the “Popular” section.  So I guess they're "mainstream" now...


Also: I asked the sales clerk to look up an album by New Order (a new wave band from the '80s) in the computer, to see if it was in stock.  The clerk (25-ish) asked “New who…?”

But she did know knew of the song “Blue Monday” (“How… does it feel… to treat me like you do…”),which was one of their big hits.


I knew someone who, about five years ago, was 18 or 19 and looking for a Christmas job at a CD store.  One of the interview questions was "Name all of the Beatles."  She couldn't -- but got hired anyhow.


I am a cranky old man.


--GG

Dressing like I'm old

During the warmer months, I wear walking shorts, a short-sleeve button-up shirt, and dress shoes.  I wear this to work, and also on errands.

I basically don't wear jeans any more:  because I'm lax about shaving, I figure I need to "dress up" a little, to compensate.

The exception is that if I'm doing yardwork or something in the shed, I'll wear my "shop clothes" to the hardware store, landscape supply store, or the pizza place -- because, eh.


However -- now that it's winter (down under!), I can "play dressup" a bit, without sweating like a monkey.  So, I've been wearing neckties for the last two weeks -- and last week I even wore a suit jacket at work!

I also have four or five hats that are pretty nifty -- but I don't wear them during the summer months (in the summer I wear a broad-brimmed sun hat).  So winter is the time to wear my groovy hats.


The above photo is what I wore on Thursday (June 18th).  My manager said I looked "natty":  I'm pretty sure I've never been called "natty".

And the photo to the left is what I wore today (Sunday; note the subtly different hat).  My outfit was originally just the charcoal-grey shirt and the green sweater -- plus black dress shoes and black slacks.  But, during our errands I ducked into a thrift store and picked up the red tie and the green tweed(?) jacket.  So I wore those around for the rest of the day.

The suit jacket is a little "granddad" -- but I'm OK with that.  I think it makes me look 55 -- although a very well-preserved 55 -- even though I'm in my 40s.


Different people have different modes of dressing.  For myself, I don't wear jeans and sneakers any more:  I felt like I could get away with that in my 20s -- but now I'm "dressing like a grown-up".

Or like a granddad.  Either way.  :)


--GG

Shaping my world

One of the things I enjoy about middle age is having a stronger sense of what I like, and what I don't like.  This means that I can shape my environment to be more enjoyable, based on my own aesthetics.

And one of the things -- apparently! -- that I like doing is hand-tool woodworking.  And although I don't log as much shop time as I'd like, I've been doing it enough over the last two or three years that I'm getting a sense of my workflow -- and can optimize my shop to better suit my approach.


I used to have a free-standing shelving unit perched on the back of my workbench, and I laid out my often-used tools on that.  But because it was **on** my workbench, if I did anything that jiggled the workbench (pounding, sawing), things would sometimes fall off.

So, in June or July of last year (i.e. about six months ago), I built a free-standing tool rack:  it has L-shaped feet and it rests on the floor behind my workbench.  In other words, it is physically de-coupled from my workbench -- so when the workbench jiggles, the tool rack does not.

So last night, after several months of stalled progress, I **finally** hung up my most often-used hammers, right next to where I typically stand. (The delay was caused by trying to finish the doweling jig, so that I could produce dowels that I could use to hang up the hammers.  I finished the doweling jig on Sunday, and Tuesday [yesterday] I made me some dowels.)  A fairly heavy hammer (heavier than a typical claw hammer), a lighter hammer (but heftier than a typical tack hammer), and a mallet (made by my late paternal grandfather).

I already had a few chisels lined up (vertical, to the right, in a re-purposed dish-drying rack), and two of my often-used handplanes underneath.  Notice also the blue brush, which I use every few minutes to whisk away the sawdust and shavings.

I have room for one more hammer (a tack hammer), but I won't put it there unless I find myself using it fairly often.  I also need to re-assemble my other "go-to" handplane and put it next to the others (a block plane, and a wooden scrub plane).  

Also:  less-impressively, I've added a cup next to the faucet nearest my workshop (there's no running water to my shop).  When I'm thirsty but can't be bothered to inside to get a drink, I drink from the faucet.  Except that I end up getting water all over my cheek and beard.

Over the weekend I salvaged a plastic cup with a handle from my neighbors, who were just going to throw it away.  So yesterday I put a look of twine through the handle, and drove a nail into the side of the free-standing hose reel that's near the faucet.  Seems to work:  I think I used it five times that day!

As an aside, you'll see the white plastic container on the ground. That has a bar of soap.  The plastic container was a disposable, microwaveable soup container, with vent holes on the top:   the holes allow the damp soap to dry out.  I used to just have the soap sitting on the lid of a plastic bucket -- but little critters (mice? possums?) kept stealing the soap and gnawing on it:  I'd find it next to the car with teeth marks in it.  Hence, the closed container -- but still near the faucet!

And the rustic, rusty sheet of corrugated roofing metal under the faucet is there to prevent splatter from staining the light-colored bricks.


Anyhow:  I'm really enjoying re-shaping my world to suit my ways.  :)


--GG

Wisdom for aspiring musicians

In my youth, I was in two different bands.  I think we wrote good songs -- but the bands didn't "go anywhere".  

My impression is that it happens a lot.

And now I'm middle-aged, have a wife and kids (who I like to be around), and don't really feel like spending months of the year driving from gig to gig and sleeping on strangers' sofas.

So, this is my sharing of what I think I've learned about making it -- or not making it -- in the world of music.  The following applies mostly to alternative rock, and probably folk and country as well.  It probably doesn't apply to classical musicians, jazz artists, and other types.  But you may as well have a glance, regardless.

Most of the following applies both to bands and to solo artists (or singer-songwriters).  It's in a vaguely narrative order.

(Note:  I'm having trouble getting a blank, un-numbered line in between the numbered list items.  So I guess my items will all be odd numbers...)

1. Face recognition:  put your face on your albums.  Even if you don't want to put it on the front, at least put it on the back.
2.  
3. Branding:  Have some quirk that people will remember you by, that (ideally!) your fans can emulate -- and a logo that you can put on your merchandise, and your fans can doodle on their denim jackets and school notebooks.  Madonna wore her underwear on the outside.  AC/DC has that cool logo.  Devo wore those flowerpots (technically, "power domes") on their heads.  The Ramones all wore leather jackets, jeans, and Converse.  Pink had pink hair -- until she became famous enough that she could stop.  The White Stripes had a red-and-white color theme.  Do **something**.
4.  
5. Make your band name Google-able:  Either mis-spell a common word (e.g. Korn), or make your band name an unlikely combination of words (e.g. They Might Be Giants; Owl City).  One of my favorite bands from Seattle (sadly, no longer active) was "Bell" -- and it's really hard to do a web search on them.
6.  
7. Do a web search for your band name before you get famous:  Rock music is full of bands that had to change their name because someone else already had that bandname.  The Mission/Mission UK is one example; also Yaz/Yazoo.  If you Google the band "Plan B", you'll find quite a few of them already.  Think ahead.
8.  
9. If there's already someone (semi-)famous with your name, consider using a stage name:  I was inspired to write this blog entry by doing a web search for a local artist named Clare Quinn.  Turns out that there's an aspiring actress in the UK who's also named Clare Quinn.  If they both become famous at the same time, someone's gonna have to budge. It makes sense to just avoid the problem, either by changing your spelling, adopting a new surname (David Bowie is actually named David Jones -- but "Davy Jones" was already in the Monkees), or adopting a whole new name (e.g. "Sting", "The Edge").  But note that if you have a one-word nickname, it may be hard to Google (unless it's spelled oddly -- e.g. "Gye"). 
10.  
11. Get a name that people can remember:  Our band was originally named "Quiescent Stridor" -- but people kept going "Huh?"  But we already had shirts with a "QS" logo, so we had to come up with a new name with "QS".  Luckily, my cousin's dad's girlfriend came up with "Quiet Storm".  Similarly, I'm toying with the idea of subsuming "Gye Greene" under an easier-to-spell band/project name -- much like Trent Reznor is Nine Inch Nails.  
12.  
13. Get a name that's not R-rated:  Unless you're totally punk rock and intentionally want a name that isn't allowed on billboards and in newspaper ads, get a band name that won't embarass your nana.  And you twenty-year-olds probably won't believe me -- but band names that seem hee-larious in your youth will just make you feel like an idiot when you're older.
14. 
    
15. Register the web address:  As noted in this guy's blog entry, you need to own your own website (and the URL), rather than rely on a Facebook page, because (1) Facebook calls the shots, so ultimately you have no control, and (2) Google searches don't like Facebook.
16.  
17. Make money off the tours and merchandise, not the songs:  My impression (and based on some things I've read) is that it's hard to make money off of album sales.  An alternative approach is to make your money of your performances, and off your merchandise (e.g. t-shirts, stickers, keychains).  People can copy and share your mp3s, but it's harder (and less likely) for people to bother ripping off your t-shirts -- until you get **really** famous.
18.  
19. Put some downloadable demos on your website:  In this day and age of reasonably-priced technology, there's very little excuse for not having a few downloadable, demo-quality songs on your website for people to share with their friends.  (If you're not technologically-minded, surely you have some friend who is, and can record you.)  You can still save the "good versions" for your pay-per-download transactions.  And if it's a good song, a "demo" version will still be enjoyable to listen to.
20.  
21. Post some YouTube videos of your music:  The video doesn't have to be fancy; it can just be you singing and playing.  But -- once again -- it's something for people to share and spread the word.
22. .
23. Get songwriter royalties (and producer points):  I could be wrong on this, but my understanding is that if the recording of you song sells, the songwriter in the band gets paid twice:  once for the performance (split among the band members), and again for the songwriter royalties.  And if your song is famous enough to generate cover versions, only the songwriter gets paid!  Also, the producer gets the song royalties as the songwriter.  It's very important, then, that the Beatles included some songs that Ringo and George wrote.  It's also interesting that R.E.M. songs list all four of the guys as the songwriters -- which means that they all get equal royalties.
24.  
25. Get out of the garage:  Devo spent a few years in the basement, practicing and honing their weirdness.  Eventually, though, they started playing for other folks. In contrast, my second band (Sacred Cow) only played in the guitarist's garage.  We never went anywhere -- and so we never went anywhere.  (Note:  In this internet age, regular posting of YouTube videos may suffice.)
26. 
    
27. Make sure that everyone in the band has the same goals:  I was the youngest in Sacred Cow, my second band, a four-piece.  Two of the guys were married (one with kids), and the third guy was seriously partnered.  They all had rents or mortgages, and "real" jobs.  I wanted to start booking gigs in Seattle (about an hour away); they wanted to play at the local bar for their friends (in a relatively small town).  I think that if we had all been willing to gig in Seattle, we could've generated a following.  But, nope.
28. 
    
29. If you have musical family or friends, consider yourself very lucky; doubly lucky if they have the same musical tastes:  I was lucky enough that my cousin and I are of similar ages, and had overlapping musical tastes.  And when my new co-worker at the movie theatre mentioned that he played the drums -- a convergence! But after a few years of practicing, the co-worker joined the army and got shipped out of town, my cousin and I placed an ad and auditioned a few drummers but no-one clicked, and I eventually went back to college (out of town).  If only my cousin or I knew someone else who played the drums...
30.  
31. If your musical friends have similar tastes, but play unusual instruments -- go for it anyhow:  Let's say you're starting a rock band, but your buddy plays the violin, not the guitar.  A violin with a pickup, through a distortion pedal, can do some serious "lead guitar" work.  Your drummer only has conga drums, not a regular drum kit?  Make it work.  Plus -- the unusual combination will make your band memorable (see above).  Examples:  Jethro Tull, with that guy playing the flute.  Men at Work, with the flute.  INXS, with the horns and such.
32.  
33. If you lose a band member, make it work anyhow:  After my cousin and I lost our drummer, we should've just used a drum machine and kept going.  It worked for Sisters of Mercy.  And They Might Be Giants, in the early days, played along to a pre-recorded backing tape. The White Stripes (and The Grates) didn't have a bassist.  You do what you can (small plastic man).
34.  
35. Don't have jerks in the band:  I was only in bands with nice people.  And that wasn't an accident.  Being in a band with a musical genius who was also a pain in the butt would've been... unpleasant.  It would've made the whole process unpleasant.  Portions of your journey will be a hard slog:  no need to make it worse than it has to be. 
36.  
37. The music business is a business:  Once you try to make a living from something, you become market-driven:  if you want money, then you have to do what sells.  Ideally, you can follow your own tastes and the people will come.  But sometimes not.  Having to respond to public tastes can also kill your love for the activity.  For example, I once (briefly!) thought it would be great to own my own recording studio -- until I realized that I'd have to accept any old band with money in their pockets, no matter how wretched their music -- just to keep up the cash flow.
38.  
39. Do it while you're young and unencumbered:  Once you have a family, once you have rent, it's harder to work a crummy day job and play gigs and live off spare change while busking for gas money while sleeping on your brother's sofa.  I reckon you have about a ten-year grace period -- say, ages 18 to 28 -- before it gets awkward to go back and get a degree, start a career, and start saving for retirement.  I don't mean that you need to stop playing music -- just that you should probably start implementing your backup plan.
40.  
41. Going it alone is harder for different types of music:  Most of the music I write doesn't sound right in a busking or solo situation.  To go anywhere, I needed to be in the context of a band.  If I was a folk musician -- and possibly a country artist -- busking on street corners and attending open mic nights would've been more of an option.
42.  
43. Recognize your gift:  This always surprises me, but regular people can't write a song.  Even people with musical training often can't make up a simple, catchy melody:  they can only reproduce (and interpret) what's already been written.  And most non-musical people can't write lyrics.  It's weird.
44.  
45. It's even harder to write a good song:  Among the people that actually can write songs, not everyone can write a good song.  And even those that can write a good song can't write a good song all the time (e.g. the solo work of John Lennon and Paul McCartney).  
46.  
47. There's no shame in being a one-hit wonder:  If you write a song that millions of people enjoy, remember, and possibly play at their wedding -- consider yourself lucky.  Very, very most songwriters don't get that.
48.  
49. Fame and popularity is poorly correlated with merit:  A lot of my favorite songs, and favorite bands, I discovered by accident in the three-dollar bin.  And one of my top-ten favorite bands ever (Bell) had a few albums, then ended.  There's a whole lotta randomness involved, including whether you fit with current trends, where you live, who you know, who sees you -- and whether your drummer joins the army right after your first gig.
50.  
51. Even if you can't make a living at it, never stop the music:  I still write songs; I don't play as often as I'd like; and one of these days I'll record some of my recent songs, post them on YouTube, and see what happens.  But it would take a few weekends to become recording-worthy, and woodworking and yardwork are currently higher priorities, because they address the needs of my family.
52.  
53. Appreciate the journey; avoid regrets. :)

That's it for now; I may add more as I think of them.


--GG

Alternative super power

Another super power that would be good to have is the power to universally heal.

I'm thinking that, as long as you can touch the person's skin, look them in the eye, and say "It will be all right", then in exactly one year the person will have completely healed whatever physical, cognitive or psychological disability the person had.

The recovery would be fairly linear, and incremental, such that for the first week the person wouldn't notice the improvement.

An awkward implication of this ability is that you wouldn't be able to go public with it, because people would be hounding you to heal them.  So you'd have to do things like wander around the hospital wards, secretly healing people.


--GG

My chosen super power

When I was younger, I thought that if I could choose any super-power, I'd want flight, or super-strength, or invulnerability.

Now that I'm older, I'd want the power that anyone I touch on the shoulder or arm will have a good life.  A good, long life.


And that's the difference, I think, between a teenager and a forty-year-old:  you think about these things from a different perspective; your sense of what's important, and how you can help people, changes.


--GG

Be yourself

Some wisdom from Wil Wheaton's blog:


Don’t let yourself get caught up in popularity contests. When you care about winning a popularity contest, or maintaining some kind of popular status, you make pleasing other people more important than being true to yourself. 

One of the keys to happiness is not caring about popularity contests, or worrying about what THEY will think. THEY don’t know anything about who you are inside, THEY don’t care about who you are when you wake up terrified in the middle of the night, or struggle just to get to the end of the day. THEY aren’t worth your time and energy, so don’t put your sense of self worth and control of your happiness into their hands. 

Be kind. Be honest. Work hard. Speak up. Be honorable. Be silly. Be you. 


There's a swear-ier version in his actual blog post:  this is a copy and paste of his revised version, posted in the same blog entry for the benefit of (and at the request of) educators.


See, **this** is the sort of thing you realize in your 40s and late-30s.  It is **good** to be middle-aged:  you know who you are, and (hopefully!) you're OK with it.  :)


--GG

I heart my slippers

During my recent trip to Seattle, I packed a pair of slippers. Brought them with me to all my visits. Wore them around people's homes.

And at the hotel, on my final day of my visit to the U.S., I padded down the hall to the ice machine and back, in my old, old slippers.

I like my slippers. Maybe that's an Old Guy thing to say -- and that's o.k. But they're **so** much more comfy than shoes. And more padded than just wearing feet.


Good stuff.


--GG

P.S. ''Wearing feet'' is a term coined by The Girl. The other one is something being ''loud in my ears''.

Found it but will leave it

So, I kind of found my original, first guitar today in a pawn shop. The one that was stolen in a burglary after I moved to Australia. But, I'm not going to buy it.


My guitar was an Ibanez Roadstar II. They have the same basic body shape as the green guitar pictured above. But whenever I do come across them, they have three single-coil pickups, rather than dual humbuckers (which the green guitar above -- a totally different brand -- has). And they sometimes have (from memory) pickguards, which my guitar (as the green guitar above) also lacked.

To the left you can see the photo of me with my eyes closed and wearing a cowboy hat (??!! -- well, it was green...), with my original guitar. It was Midnight Blue. As you can see, I ''decorated'' it heavily -- partly because I was young and impetuous, but mostly because -- without a pickguard -- it was pretty darned plain.

Because of the decoration, I named it ''Gypsy''.

Anyhow: saw an actual Ibanez Roadstar II, dual-humbucker, **very** much the same to my guitar (except for many large chips taken out of the body). US$270 asking price: a very reasonable price.


But, I'm not gonna get it, because:

-I've spent more than I anticipated on this trip, already.

-For $200-$300, I could get a very decent ribbon microphone instead. That would be far more useful for my musical aspirations.

-I **already** have a dual-humbucker guitar.

-Even with unbolting the neck -- thereby essentially folding the guitar in half -- it would still be a pain to get it back to Australia.

-And, it's just not the same. It's actually a very plain-looking guitar. I'd probably want to gussy it up -- and that would make it a different guitar than Gypsy. (It would be a little like a guy marrying a redhead, just because his first girlfriend was a redhead. If that's the only reason, then it's a little pathetic: trying to recapture old times instead of moving on.)


That being said, I kinda wished I had plugged it in and tried it out. So, maybe my thoughts will change.

But, probably not.


--GG

(Addendum, 1/29/12: Didn't go back. I'll be visiting my folks again in about half a year. If it's still there, I'll at least take a look at it. If not: ah well.)

Middle age

I'm 42: I expect to "approach" middle age until I abruptly realize that I'm actually "old"...


I also notice that I'm getting sick a little more often than I used to. Could be age: could also be a lack of exercise, more stress at work -- or, just random variation.


--GG

Older perspective

On the way back from the bus depot to where I'd parked my car, a tall, skinny, younger guy stepped out of my way and smiled kindly, with a little sheepishness. ''I hope he has a good life'', I thought to myself.

I've noticed of late that when I cross paths with a younger person who seems nice, that I mentally wish them a good life.

Not something that I would've thought of doing when I was in my 20s. A different perspective, now.


--GG

Creakier

Now that I'm officially into my 40s, I've noticed that my energy levels, and general creakiness, has noticeably increased. Not to horrible levels -- but enough to make me think that my body has entered a new mode.

Like, wake up with a sore neck more often than I used to. Every two months or so -- which isn't a lot -- but still, it's more.

Or my general energy levels. Over the last year or so, if I'm sitting down or flopped out on the couch, I'm more likely to ask the kids to fetch something for me, rather than getting it myself. But, maybe that's just 'cause the kids are more capable than they were a year ago. ;)


--GG

Less hair

I did my semiannual haircut a few days ago -- with the help of my 5yo daughter. Funny thing: every time I have a haircut, I end up with less hair. And I don't just mean **shorter** -- I mean that the count decreases. Either that, or my forehead it just expanding.

These photos are all by my 5yo daughter.


This first one is the ''before''. I can't be bothered (and/or am too cheap!) to go to the barber's, so I wait until my hair gets long enough to start annoying me, and then I shave it back.

I think this is the bushiest my beard has ever been: usually I'll shave it back two or three times between haircuts -- but not this time.



Here, I've shaved off my chin. I think it looks a bit Edwardian: with the right suit and hat, I could run for the Senate in the 1880s. But the wife didn't like it.



Another stage in the evolution (or, de-evolution?). I think I look a bit like Isaac Asimov.



Yet another one. Looks like someone glued a small animal pelt to my jaw.



Almost there. My wife says that I look the youngest with the longer hair, but no beard (beards add age to men). The longer hair somewhat disguises my receding hairline. But -- eh.



And -- the final product!


Ayep!


--GG

Wherefore art thou Chromeo

I've noticed that most people's musical tastes seize up about the time they leave high school or college. I've always tried to battle against that by occasionally listening to the radio, and watching the local music video show ("Rage") at night while I brush my teeth.

I think I'm (mostly) succeeding, in that there's several "modern" bands (i.e. bands that have become famous in the last five years) that I enjoy.


Just last night, I saw the music video on Rage for a two-person band called Chromeo. It might be suitable for folks my age (i.e., "from the 1980s"), as they make use of synths, vocoders, and drum machines. Depending on the song, they're reminiscent of Toto, Duran Duran, Cory Hart, and other bands I can't quite recall.

Their MySpace page is here: includes streaming audio, as well as some of their music videos.

Pleasantly, they don't seem to take themselves too seriously.


Three things of possible side interest: (1) They're Canadian! (2) One guy is Jewish, and the other is Arabic, about which (according to the Wikipedia article), "The two childhood friends jokingly describe themselves as "the only successful Arab/Jewish partnership since the dawn of human culture."; and (3) They had a music video performance on Yo! Gabba Gabba (about the importance of washing your hands).


--GG

Recalling my youth

Stopped by a 7-11 for a Slushie today, and there were two guys in front of me -- looked about 20 or 22. There was some sort of "various things for a dollar" sale (ice cream treats, candy bars, bags of chips...) going on at the 7-11, so these guys had filled up two bags with junk food, for eighteen dollars.

I commented to them -- with my graying hair and receding hairline: "Enjoy your high metabolism while you can..."


It very much reminded me of myself during an earlier period of my life -- about 20-22 years old -- when I worked one and a half jobs (picking up and crating art and antiques; movie theatre), plus was in a band with my Guitar Cousin and Captain Crash (co-worker at the movie theatre, and eventual roommate).

I didn't get a lot of sleep during that period: every night I either worked at the movie theatre (and got home around 11:30pm), or else had band practice (and then stayed up late watching rented movies on videotape with Guitar Cousin and Crash). And on weekends we'd often go out to catch a local band.

But, good times. None of us had a girlfriend; all of us would've **liked** to have had a girlfriend.


It was also the first time that I didn't live with a family member (e.g. parents, grandparent), nor in a college dorm room. Independence!!!

I had a pretty garbagey diet, though: this was my fronut period. I was working 1.5 jobs (i.e., about 60 hours a week) to save up to go back to college (I'd done two and a half years, then ran out of money) -- so I had money in the bank, but was spending very little. Employees at the movie theatre had free popcorn -- so I ate a lot of that. I'd also visit the Safeway behind the movie theatre and buy a loaf of bread and a can of Spaghetti-O's, and make Spaghetti-O sandwiches for dinner. With a head of lettuce on the side.

And because I'd get home most nights around 11:30am, and had to be at work around 8:30 (? - it's been a while...) the next morning, I didn't have much time to make dinner. So dinner was usually one-fourth of a half-gallon of cookies 'n' cream ice cream. And a multivitamin. Sometimes another head of lettuce.

I'd eat better at Guitar Cousin's house, though, after band practice: as I recall, it often included actual veggies and such.


Anyhow: a happy, simpler time. As opposed to my happy but complex time right now. ;)


Oh: and that photos isn't of us. It's just something I got off the web, when I Googled "guys in garage band".


--GG

Old man

Yeah, I'm becoming an old man.

This morning, the kids and I were watching children's t.v. There's an English show called "Grandpa in My Pocket", where this kid's grandfather lives with them and has a magic shrinking cap.

When the grandpa puts it on he shrinks down to a few inches tall, and they have all sorts of adventures: the cover story for the disappearance of the grandfather is always, "Oh, he's gone upstairs to have a lie down."

Every time they say that, I think "Having a lie down. THAT sounds nice..."


--GG

Music musings

A few music musings.

Still going thru my cassettes (I guesstimate I have around 350; I go though about four a night, and maybe eight per day on weekends; and I'm pretty much listening to each one).

Listened to the Peter Schilling album Error in the System. Good, catchy tunes if you like '80s synth-type stuff: if you like Thomas Dolby, you'll probably like this. It has his remake of Bowie's "Major Tom" -- which, IMO is better than the original one (catchier, and less mopey).

I **really** like the song ''Only Dreams'' -- but realized that there's no point in my covering it, because I don't know how I'd change the arrangement to make it my own: it would just end up being a karaoke version of the original: a 95% identical backing track, with my vocs.


The cassette has my dub of my Peter Schilling LP on one side, and my dub of my Yaz Upstairs at Eric's LP on the other. If you like Erasure (I think the instrumentalist guy is the same, just a different vocalist), you'll like Yaz. Again, catchy stuff.


I had a brief e-mail exchange with a friend from college, who doesn't listen to albums any more -- regardless of the format (LPs, cassettes, CDs) -- and doesn't like any of the new music. I've heard it said that people's musical tastes ossify at about the time the leave college -- so I'm desperately fighting against that.

Although, technically, I haven't yet left college... (Lingering Ph.D. Dissertation...)


--GG