When your back gets hurt, everything comes to a halt. I have found that out this week, and am laying around with a torn ligament somewhere near my spine, pain pills that make me woozy, and exercises I can only do when I’m on the pain pills.
Y’know what? It’s getting really boring. Just saying.
How does “Leave No Child Behind” hang on? As far as I can tell every single group involved hates it – teachers, school administrators, rich schools, poor schools, kids. And, it doesn’t benefit some powerful lobby, like oil barons. I can’t believe it will be renewed.
He’s back, he’s been to the vet, he has an injured back, it will heal with time, and he’s thoroughly enjoying the extra attention. Phwew.
Oh dear. Blue, our brown striped cat, is missing. Yesterday he was droopy and today he’s nowhere to be seen. We’re afraid that he’s sick and has gone off somewhere to hide. Bluey, Blue-blue, Blueboy, Blu-ers, where are you?
Here he is:
It’s Thanksgiving and, among the things I am thankful for, is the fact that I grew up with the view you see above from the front steps of my childhood home. It’s also a good day to remember the other good things in my life. I’ve been blessed with good health, a wonderful husband, kids, and family, work that I enjoy, and true-blue friends. Thank You, Higher Power, whatever and wherever You may be.
In the past I’ve poked fun at the earnestness with which users of MySpace and other websites list their favorite bands. Looks like they were onto something. It turns out that people give and receive a lot of information about each other when they share their musical preferences.
Here is an article summarizing a study about this phenomena. It’s dry at times, so I’ll summarize it: People, and especially young people, judge each other with some degree of accuracy based on a person’s musical taste.
Message in a Ballad
The article focuses on the participants perception of psychological traits such as extroversion. That may have been a good fit for their study method. However, my suspicion is that, when it comes to musical taste, people are more likely to be making social judgments about a person’s ideology, lifestyle, political views, social group, and that sort of thing.
What do you think?
Please don’t let the Democrats screw up this time.
What is a blog, exactly? A diary, a newsletter, or just a place to write? All of the above?
This essay is hilarious but be forwarned – the language is R rated, so proceed with caution if that bothers you. I would like to know what other people think of this, besides that it’s very funny.
Why I Hate Weblogs
Last night The Bluegrass Experience played a 35th anniversary concert at the Barn in Fearrington. Guitar player Tommy Edwards acted as the concert mc, and he made much of how old the band members are, how many musicians had passed through (or “passed on”), and how long ago they’d started playing together. But, for a bunch of self-proclaimed ancient geezers, they sure had a lot of stamina and energy. The concert started at 8:00, with an audience that seemed to fall in two age groups — those around 70 and those around 50. Not many folks in other age ranges. At 10:45 members of the audience had started creeping home to bed, but the band was still going strong. This is a tribute to their high energy, and not a comment on their wonderful music.
All of the musicians were technically adept, lively, enthusiastic, and engaging. One guest vocalist, Leroy Savage, took bluegrass singing to the next level. Definitely check him out.
And, what can I say? Chatham is the best county around. All those people in the audience whom I’ve seen around for 20+ years, the kids who have grown up, the whole Chatham thing – Orange, Durham, Wake, Alamance, Lee, Johnston – sorry guys, you ain’t got it.
There is nothing so conducive to friendly conversation as a porch swing at dusk. Pull up a seat on the swing, and try to imagine the flicker of fireflies over the meadow, the distant laughter of children racing around in the gathering dark, and the slight creak of the swing’s chain against the hooks attached to the porch roof. Sunset has come and gone, but enough light lingers on the horizon to see the outlines of trees, the shapes of cars parked near the barn, the tall lilies crowded against the kitchen wall. Have a glass of wine, or water if you’d rather, and tell us what’s new, what’s on your mind, what you’ve seen in this big old world.