Saturday, January 24, 2015

Tricky brain

    My brain is still tricky. I needed to get cash and I needed to get gas. The latter was more pressing, since without cash, the car still goes, but without gas, I'm walking some distance in the cold, putting down a deposit on a gas container, filling it and walking back. Anyway, I guess my brain decided to rearrange reality a bit, because after I hit the ATM, I was all relieved about not being out of gas anymore, which of course I still was. There was some significant chance that I might have driven all the way home without bothering to stop at the gas station. I didn't, but it was pretty odd. I guess I have misplaced faith in my own sense of priority: "I did a thing, so it must have been the most pressing thing." Or some damn thing.

Friday, January 23, 2015

That cold, bony hand

    Last week, Margaret's friend Mildred died, and she found how especially sad it is to have another funeral just after losing a person particularly close to you. Yesterday, my friend and high school debate partner Russ died, and I'm finding the same thing. Just a little extra shock, to go with the considerable one of having somebody just a little older than me leave so early. We haven't seen each other much in 30-odd years, but stayed in touch via the Internet. I have no details at all, either of how it happened or when services are happening except for a suggestion that they would be this weekend. We were for some reason the Steinberg Twins, on what must have been the most obnoxious debate team in the history of the world. More recently, Russ served in the Gulf War. His many amazing stories were supposed to turn into a book, co-written or at least edited by me. I'm so sorry that that never happened.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

A little reluctant

    I'm still somewhat disinclined to go out to shows or gigs by friends (also shows, I suppose) for fear of having to answer what's been happening type questions. I don't mind per se, of course; I just don't like making people feel uncomfortable. I guess I could go get a black armband as a sort of tipoff, but I'm not sure anybody has used those in fifty or a hundred years. Black rose, while very styling, might give the wrong idea, or none at all.
    I guess I'll get back in the swing gradually. I am glad to say that my health has more or less swung all the way back. Most of the things wrong with me were probably greatly worsened by infinite stress; a lot of stuff like my mysteriously pins and needly ankles has just gone away entirely. I'm still a few years overdue for a checkup (as is the senior kitty), but I suspect we'll survive a little longer.
    Speaking of the evil poltergeists with whom I share my life, one gifted me with a dead mouse by the front gate, while the other gave me a hairball on the carpet. Can't help but remember that I didn't actually volunteer to take in either of these rotten, stinky little weasels. Lucky for them that they're cute.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

I refuse to say what I am

    I mentioned at least once about the music writing app on Windows Phone which I used to enjoy futzing around with. It was somewhat Rock Band themed, I suppose, as there was a guitar, synth, bass and drums. On Android, I have an analogous one, but it has instead one synth voice and a half dozen percussion sounds. Both just provide four bars, repeated endlessly, but both are vastly more entertaining than one would expect given this description.
    Partly this is due to a peculiarity of-- the brain I guess. People just got to make sense out of things. So with the other app, I found myself turning the sounds into words and with this one I do, too. Strangely, it only ever seems to happen with the phone in my shirt pocket. Whether this is a function of the pocket muffling some of the sounds or of the vibrations transmitting to my skin, I haven't a clue.
    The most recent, uh, composition I would have wanted to talk about anyway, because it was very pretty and happy and I wished I had some idea how I had done that. Since this app has no way to save anything (unlike the other, which would at least output a code that I could copy and paste and then paste in again to play back something I had written and liked), I also have no way to play it back short of recording it on a blank tape. (How 20th century!) But what I really liked about it was that the sound eventually resolved into sounding like it was saying, over and over, "I refuse to say what I am." The ghost in the machine? I'm telling you, it'll be the dance hit of the summer!

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Possibly unprecedented

    I don't ever actually remember buying new releases before. Norman Blake put out a new CD today and Chris Potter put out one last week and I bought both this morning. Those there are pretty darned new releases. If I'd noticed that the Potter disc featured strings, I probably wouldn't have bought it. This would have been a shame, as the strings are well-integrated and their participation is well thought out. The only shortcoming of the record: not enough Chris Potter. He's a pretty generous cat.
    Norman plays beautifully but his voice, never the most magnificent, seems to be tapped out. I think he should have let Nancy sing. Still, I like what I've heard. These two discs share the 3 CD changer with Ellington and Coltrane's collaboration; they're having a little trouble competing, but anybody would.
    Weather continues gorgeous, and amusingly just on the cusp of cold and warm. I took a nice long walk on Old State Road, out where I belong. I'm always happier on dirt than on cement, but as noted, I don't mind waiting until the mud dries up a little, which it did.

Monday, January 19, 2015

Hoping against reflux

    Throughout the recent crisis and aftermath, I've had an intermittently scratchy and burning throat as well as the cough that never quite goes away which I'm sure I've mentioned now and again. Somebody suggested that it might be acid reflux rather than a cold or flu. Since I don't have a lot of refluxy type symptoms, this seemed unlikely, but I tried sleeping on my slant pillow for a while just in case. And my throat got better. So I put away the slant pillow. And my throat got worse.
    Now in the theory of things, I wouldn't have any problem with just sleeping on my slant pillow every night forever. However, I wake in the night with numbness at the back of my head which takes quite a while to subside. Last night, I just said "heck with this" and slept without any pillow at all, which is much my preference. While my throat isn't great, it isn't bad either. There's a hint of burning, but nothing painful. It occurs to me that kitties lying on my belly might not be the greatest thing for acid reflux and if I could persuade them to stop, it might be a good thing. But my ability to persuade kitties to do anything has so far proved to be minimal. I will hope it isn't reflux and if the burning continues, I'll see somebody about it sooner or later.
    Weather continues insanely beautiful and warm and the winds have blown away. It's always almost funny when I'm out taking a walk and cross over in about a second from chilly to hot. Almost.

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Peace of mind

    As I have remarked, my dad wrote out by hand a multi-page set of instructions for what I was supposed to do after he died. This was two or three years ago, when he was worried about it. I guess writing it out gave him peace of mind, or I hope it did. He never actually gave me the document, nor even showed it to me. Since then, he and Margaret had to evacuate to a motel suite twice for reasons that I still can't tell you about, and everybody's possessions got kicked all over the place.
    Suffice it to say that we couldn't find the document. I imagine that even if I had it, I would still manage to bollocks up most things. It's just a skill. Still, it would be nice to have it. But I still like to think that writing it gave Dad some measure of peace, and the fact that he never got around to giving it to me might reflect some level of (perhaps misplaced) confidence in me. Anyway, I know where the life insurance policies are; I can probably cover most of the important stuff myself. And a lot of his ideas were fairly unrealistic, so maybe not having the document is in some ways a blessing.
    We got crazy-beautiful weather today, too, but it's windy. So it's balmy outside except you're somewhat at risk of getting blown to Oz, or at least to Kansas. This makes it a good day to stay in and watch football, a lucky coincidence, on the whole.