Another weekend storm is coming and I am not jumping up and down on my perch like a happy budgie.
But I can accept fate a little better when the National Weather Service runs graphics like this.
This looks like the cover illustration from a 1979 government report on the potential for regional monorail development.
(The literalist in me protests because they took ol’ buddy Roy G. Biv and mixed him all up like pasta primavera … creating something more like Robb G. Gyb. It’s still a good look.)
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Those of you who tune in for the conceptual continuity will be thrilled to know that I used my Governor Michael Dukakis turkey stock for dinner tonight. It had been sitting there in the freezer, saying, “Hey, remember me? You thought I was a great idea!” every time I opened the door.
I thin-sliced a leek (I had one left over from another recipe) and briefly stir-fried it; then added the semi-frozen turkey stock and some garlic powder; and finally threw in a container of chicken tortellini once the stock had warmed to a simmer. The end result was somewhat reminiscent of won ton soup, and very edible on a worknight.
It was a great idea.
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The latest Internet music discovery that’s floating my boat is Public Image Ltd’s 1981 album The Flowers of Romance.
It’s an amazing record: The entire thing is basically people banging on stuff and yelling incomprehensibly and breaking glass for 33 minutes. And yet, it’s absorbing.
I have not completely rejected the pleasures of guitars and drums playing in 4/4 time. But, I think maybe I have heard so much conventionally constructed rock and rock-adjacent music at this point in my life that I’m ready to appreciate music that picks up all the pre-sets and assumptions and throws them out the window.
Neck Pickup 