June Songs
I can’t believe it’s already Thursday. I can’t believe it’s already June. I had friends in town and then I had family in town and now the house is quiet and it’s time to relax on the stoop. This is what’s been playing on the record player lately.
Here We Go Magic, “Everything’s Big”: Paul Simon meets Devotchka in a traveling circus caravan, or something.
Led Zeppelin, “Night Flight”: A song about taking flight. The worst Led Zeppelin song is better than the best contemporary rock song, no matter what.
John Phillips, “Malibu People”: Warm sand, silhouettes made by the sinking sun, feeling on the cusp of something, aloneness but not loneliness …
The Germs, “Richie Dagger’s Crime”: Raw and ugly in its kickassedness.
Bob Dylan, “I Threw It All Away”: Not just another Dylan song—words to live by.
Daniel Johnston, “Love Not Dead”: I know, I know, but really—this one rocks.
Ghostmice, “Celtic Sea”: Part of an entire album chronicling their tour through Europe, this jam’s about crossing the Celtic Sea. Sweet, sad, and funny. It’s magic.
Memorialize this
Even though I work for myself, so it’s not really necessary to observe holiday weekends inasmuch as I can take three days off any time I want to providing the shit's all done, even though that’s the case, I chose to observe this past Memorial Day by not working for three days straight. It was nice. I got to spend an evening with my ladyfriends in town from San Diego for Sasquatch, I spent a long balmy day outside getting frazzled by the sun, I had big plans for Saturday night and then fell asleep on the couch, I went to the beach and watched dog owners heard their creatures around, I bbq’d, I zoo-bombed ...
Good stuff, but who needs a damn holiday to do all that?
Cougs still loves Jardine from like a century ago when we all lived together on Jasper Street.
Annie pretended to be hanging out with us but was really hanging out with her iPhone.
Oh, I’ve recently become very interested in Tofutti Chocolate Cuties, sourdough bread, Underworld: Rise of the Lycans, and Elizabeth Cotten’s guitar plucking. You should look into these things. That’s all.
6:27 a.m.
What I did was I jerked awake at 6:27 a.m., having missed the alarm, but jumped out of bed anyway and drove 80 mph through the wet summer morning out along the Columbia. Still and mirror-like, the water, with ghostly mists. Ate an omelet for breakfast in The Dalles, then climbed up a trail to survey the Oregon summertime. It was all electric green grass and wildflowers, and we were exactly right where we should be.
building things
People are building things up at Mt. hood, and because it was a beautiful day we went up there to watch, skate, and also hang out in the shade of the trees. The whole process is fascinating. I like seeing the concrete dump out of the pump truck in a big wet mass. Then I'll go off and do something for a little while, and when I come back it isnt a pile of gray mud anymore but a clean clay-looking creation, damp and smooth like the belly of a fish.
out stealing horses
Have you read this? Amazing. Like most things from Scandinavia, it’s stunning in its understated-ness. There’s something about the end, though. What really happened? I’m still debating it.