Just so-so

Sick day did not help quite as much as planned.

I am feeling spectacularly mediocre right now. That's better than spectacularly crappy, which is how I was feeling about an hour ago.

Things are exciting in Clay-and-Max land. Max's car was towed away, Clay's car is sputtering and creaking, and both of us feel sick. Thank goodness it's the weekend, right?

Oh wait. We both have to work tomorrow. Joy.

Sick day

On one hand, I feel drained and virus-y (fought off a sore throat and body aches for the last two days).

On the other, I get to spend quality time in the new apartment.

On yet another hand (perhaps someone else's), most of that time will be spent sleeping.

High speed

DSL has finally been transferred to the new apartment.

Whoohoo!

World on its side

For a country now engaged in war. Make of this song what you will.

Ring Them Bells

By Bob Dylan

Ring them bells, ye heathen
From the city that dreams,
Ring them bells from the sanctuaries
Cross the valleys and streams,
For they're deep and they're wide
And the world's on its side
And time is running backwards
And so is the bride.

Ring them bells St. Peter
Where the four winds blow,
Ring them bells with an iron hand
So the people will know.
Oh it's rush hour now
On the wheel and the plow
And the sun is going down
Upon the sacred cow.

Ring them bells Sweet Martha,
For the poor man's son,
Ring them bells so the world will know
That God is one.
Oh the shepherd is asleep
Where the willows weep
And the mountains are filled
With lost sheep.

Ring them bells for the blind and the deaf,
Ring them bells for all of us who are left,
Ring them bells for the chosen few
Who will judge the many when the game is through.
Ring them bells, for the time that flies,
For the child that cries
When innocence dies.

Ring them bells St. Catherine
From the top of the room,
Ring them from the fortress
For the lilies that bloom.
Oh the lines are long
And the fighting is strong
And they're breaking down the distance
Between right and wrong.

Would you be my neighbor?

The woman who moved into our old apartment today is an actress. She appeared in The Bodyguard, way back in 1992. She's done some other film work and television show appearances too.

Thus, Max and I are now neighbors to a mildly well-known character actress. She seems quite nice, actually.

All around

Moved last night and this morning.

Max is still doing moving tasks.

It's a lot of movement.

Soothing nourishment

Here's a picture of some pie.

Yummy.

Reassurances follow

Actually the landlord, who is a marvelous guy, has been working diligently to eradicate the smell. The previous tenents managed to fuse it into the woodwork in some mystical manner. Bleach, etc., has so far been of no use in removing the smell.

Perhaps the previous occupants were witches. You never know.

Thing will be crazy for the next couple of days. True, we only have the contents of a studio apartment to move. But we have a very -- um -- how shall I put this, full apartment. Hijinks await.

Everybody join in

Let's sing the moving song:

"We're moving moving moving
To an apartment next door

We're moving moving moving
It smells like dogs died on the floor."

Thank you.

Picking up and --

The Max and myself are moving.

50 feet away, but moving nonetheless.

Hail Declan

Elvis Costello performed the song quoted below at his induction into the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame.

Read about the zany hijinks here.

And he hosts the Late Show (without David Letterman) tonight. You go, you zany Brit punkster/artiste.

Lend an ear

For those of you who yearn, deep within your souls, to hear me make a fool of myself in mp3 form, I have just the thing for you.

Just another anthem

A thought for today.

"What's So Funny 'Bout Peace, Love and Understanding"
by Nick Lowe

As I walk through
This wicked world
Searchin' for light in the darkness of insanity.
I ask myself
Is all hope lost?
Is there only pain and hatred, and misery?

And each time I feel like this inside,
There's one thing I wanna know:
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?

And as I walk on
Through troubled times
My spirit gets so downhearted sometimes
So where are the strong
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.

'Cause each time I feel it slip away,
Just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?

So where are the strong?
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.

'Cause each time I feel it slip away,
Just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?

While we're on music ...

Matthew Sweet rocks.

Thank you.

Blandness for all

It's not just file-sharing that's killing the music business. Take a look at this New York Times editorial.

The Trouble With Corporate Radio: The Day the Protest Music Died
By BRENT STAPLES

Pop music played a crucial role in the national debate over the Vietnam War. By the late 1960's, radio stations across the country were crackling with blatantly political songs that became mainstream hits. After the National Guard killed four antiwar demonstrators at Kent State University in Ohio in the spring of 1970, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young recorded a song, simply titled "Ohio," about the horror of the event, criticizing President Richard Nixon by name. The song was rushed onto the air while sentiment was still high, and became both an antiwar anthem and a huge moneymaker.

A comparable song about George W. Bush's rush to war in Iraq would have no chance at all today. There are plenty of angry people, many with prime music-buying demographics. But independent radio stations that once would have played edgy, political music have been gobbled up by corporations that control hundreds of stations and have no wish to rock the boat.

...

Which brings us back to the hypothetical pop song attacking George Bush. The odds against such a song reaching the air are steep from the outset, given a conservative corporate structure that controls thousands of stations. Record executives who know the lay of land take the path of least resistance when deciding where to spend their promotional money. This flight to sameness and superficiality is narrowing the range of what Americans hear on the radio — and killing popular music.

On the speakers

What are you listening to, Clay?

Why, thanks for asking.

1.) A downloaded copy of Johnny Cash's latest album, American IV: The Man Comes Around. It's an eclectic mix of originals, covers and old cowboy songs.

The video for his version of Trent Reznor's "Hurt" is getting major press. Take a look. It's devastating. And Shakespearean. And damn cool.

2.) Energized by Mr. Cash's current work, I decided to sample some of his older material. Thus I purchased his 3-CD boxed set, "Love, God, Murder." Each disk is themed -- a fascinating concept for a non-chronological career retrospective.

3.) The Beach Boys finally approved release of a 23-year-old concert: "Good Timin: Live At Knebworth England 1980." It was the last time all six members of the group appeared on an English stage. Interesting, if slick. Founding creative force Brian Wilson is mostly relegated to the sidelines.

Celebrate good times, come on

Gazing at my planner for the month of April, I'm struck by the sequence of holidays.

Passover ends on the 17th. The 18th is Good Friday. Easter follows on the 20th.

Then, on the 23rd, the holiday everyone was truly waiting for: "Administrative Professionals Day."

On purpose, see?

I know the previous post wasn't particularly clever.

Well, maybe I wasn't going for that. Perhaps I just wanted to be quaintly ruminative.

Assumptions make, well you know

Mr. McClosky claims his sister will miss him when he's dead.

This assumes his sister will outlive him.

It seems a leap.

Happy happy happy

A new month dawns. And it's my sister's birthday ... kind of.

She was born on February 29th, so her true birthday comes every four years. She's four and three-quarters this year, or 19. I ordered her a marvelous present, which she should receive in the next week.

I'll talk about it then.