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Jul. 27th, 2005 07:10 pmToday is day 937.
I finished painting the porch at 219, praises be. I am proud of myself for doing the ladder-y parts despite being terrified of heights.
As a reward, I made off with the boy's music (he's off at fair week anyway and won't notice) to see if there's anything there that I, er, think he needs an archival copy of. He's got a nice selection of AC/DC, so I'm pulling those. (I know far more AC/DC than I thought I did.) On Nazereth's Greatest Hits, only two of 'em ring a bell. Guess I don't listen to much Nazereth. Heart? He's seventeen. What the holy fuck is he doing listening to Heart? Wasn't that, y'know, girlie eighties music? (He gets it from his mother. She's my age.) Oh, and he's got a Johnny Cash album I could probably use. He's also got a couple of Merle Haggard tunes I want but I don't have any interest in Shania Twain or Pam Tillis. Then there's stuff I don't know what is. Less Than Jake? Ugly Kid Joe? -- never heard of 'em. I suppose now is as good a time as any to rectify that situation. Er. And C. W. McCall (who was actually an advertising guy named Bill Fries -- more details here) has done more than one song that I actually know, though I haven't heard it since I had an age in single digits. Turns out he's the man who did Wolf Creek Pass. (The song in question, so you can all feel damn, damn old, is from 1975. Convoy, which was the song he did that people are more likely to know, was from 1976.) There's chickens and a man named Earl involved in the Wolf Creek Pass song. Convoy contains the phrase "long-haired friends of Jesus in a chartreuse microbus", and I love it for that.
Dinner: Leftover dal, mango & cilantro & lime salad thing, chapati-like flatbread. I think I'm going to award the title of sexiest fruit to the mango. It begs to be ravished.
I finished painting the porch at 219, praises be. I am proud of myself for doing the ladder-y parts despite being terrified of heights.
As a reward, I made off with the boy's music (he's off at fair week anyway and won't notice) to see if there's anything there that I, er, think he needs an archival copy of. He's got a nice selection of AC/DC, so I'm pulling those. (I know far more AC/DC than I thought I did.) On Nazereth's Greatest Hits, only two of 'em ring a bell. Guess I don't listen to much Nazereth. Heart? He's seventeen. What the holy fuck is he doing listening to Heart? Wasn't that, y'know, girlie eighties music? (He gets it from his mother. She's my age.) Oh, and he's got a Johnny Cash album I could probably use. He's also got a couple of Merle Haggard tunes I want but I don't have any interest in Shania Twain or Pam Tillis. Then there's stuff I don't know what is. Less Than Jake? Ugly Kid Joe? -- never heard of 'em. I suppose now is as good a time as any to rectify that situation. Er. And C. W. McCall (who was actually an advertising guy named Bill Fries -- more details here) has done more than one song that I actually know, though I haven't heard it since I had an age in single digits. Turns out he's the man who did Wolf Creek Pass. (The song in question, so you can all feel damn, damn old, is from 1975. Convoy, which was the song he did that people are more likely to know, was from 1976.) There's chickens and a man named Earl involved in the Wolf Creek Pass song. Convoy contains the phrase "long-haired friends of Jesus in a chartreuse microbus", and I love it for that.
Dinner: Leftover dal, mango & cilantro & lime salad thing, chapati-like flatbread. I think I'm going to award the title of sexiest fruit to the mango. It begs to be ravished.
