Sunday, December 1, 2002

Gift and Rubbish

This blog has not helped my work life. A DSL package will be delivered to the apartment tomorrow, thank goodness. Home internet access will make updates far easier and much less hurried (as in, not always watching over my shoulder for some supervisor-type with a ruler to thwack across my knuckles).

Juan gave me a copy of the Beach Boys' Christmas Album as a gift. The group actually recorded two Christmas records, one in the 1960s and one in the 1970s. The latter wasn't released until the late '90s, when its best tracks showed up on Ultimate Christmas, an album featuring all of the BBs '60s album, an single called "Child of Winter" from the early '70s, and a few radio spots. Both the original album and Ultimate Christmas are still in print, I think.

Notes from my walk to work this morning. This was a stream-of-conciousness excercise, scrawled down as I was actually walking. Transcribed from my notebook.

Green leaves / Fountain sputtering / To the beat of a truck's stereo / Leaf underfoot / But not an autumn one. / Stadium cheers with motor whirs. / The old man's grey T-shirt / Pokes beneath his green sweatshirt. / Sun on my right cheek & / ENTER ONLY says the sign / By the Columbian apts -- / NO PARKING / Next to a row od parked cars... / Buick, Plymouth, Doudge / "Whining is my life" / Proclaims a bumper sticker... / The new VW bug slopes into the curb / Tall buildings and semi-urban rot colliding in the / Light pink YMCA building / A NO LOITERING sign posted where the homeless man always sleeps / (Is a bum only male? What's a female bum -- or a tramp, even?) / We stroll along / To meet the maker / FEDEX, SPTimes, Nintendo

Okay, okay, perhaps it's just a lot of rubbish. But it's my rubbish. And most of it is spelled correctly.