It’s a birdfeeder. The concept impressed me for I would never see anything but the original lantern in this design. It isn’t lack of artistic ability, but in my mind, there are designs, and I admit to most of them being American, that are so empirical, my brain is hard-wired from seeing them any different. These “coal oil” lamps are such an object. Every wire, every position, was put there for a purpose that evolved through utility. My poor head can’t see them as anything else.
Having two hours to kill early today, I listened to the bass lines from 50 of the top bands of the previous five years. Or, more accurately, bands that had hits who are still around. This ranges from Muse to Green Day to Nirvana, or what I notice is the ton of bands that have no blonde males in the lineup, I’m just sayin’. I don’t like most of the material, it isn’t original and some of it sounds computerized. And all of it sounds like the bassist is an erstwhile guitarist playing scale patterns (modes). I’ve recommenced reading “Fifty”, but in stages. The chapters are long and you get sincerely lost trying to absorb too many different perceptions on what you thought you knew. Like the 1968 Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia. I learned the first wave was an awesome 4,600 tanks which I have trouble even imagining. Then to read Britain’s protest was their Prime Minister actually considered not sending Brezhnev a Christmas card that year. That’ll show them Ruskies. England, wellspring of appeasement and our toughest ally. (Under pressure from Parliament, the card went out.) In a curious comparison, I bought this book used and certain passages were underlined by a previous reader. The material so marked is mainly what I consider the weaker and less relevant, like which politicians or admirals shared the same middle name. The candy-ass way they write exams these days, that deep-thinker would get a higher mark than I.
I’m in pain and getting black and blue. You get no specifics this time, but as a reward I bought myself a new pair of work jeans and for the first time in a month, I ate French fries. Sigh, I used to consider them a staple. It’s good I’ve got a quiet place. This is the first of four visits, so I’ll be here if you need me. Got coffee, got cookies, got a book and a half. Maybe not coffee, remember I am still the tea-maker extraordinaire, having learned the trade in Delhi, in India. Almost thirty years ago. The first thing I looked at is teeth lumineers. I’ve intended to do something about my smile the moment it becomes affordable. This one may not, I see they want a lot of money and there are complaints of the results looking bulky. I’m one of the victims of tetracycline discoloration and it became worse with my first round of heart medications, although I do not state here that there is any connection. It looks like a nice smile is going to cost five thousand dollars no matter what I do. Time to start saving.
Later, I’m in pain still, but now’s the time to grab that guitar and play the Blues. Right? Am I getting it? This lead guitar player complex, I mean. Cocaine-heroine-opium-morphine Blues type of thing. A little hurt and run for the pills. Write music about it. Get more money. Date skanks. Buy more pills. Get messed up. Go, Eric! The world needs more bad examples.
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