The Beatles

I can't say I'm exactly rediscovering the Beatles. They're too ingrained into my being for that. However, I had taken enuough of a break from them that in listening to Magical Mystery Tour yesterday, I was impressed by how truly special they are. Who needs to be told this again? Well, sometimes we need to be reminded of something we already know. Recently I read Douglas Adams' The Salmon of Doubt, a posthumous book of unfinished work and essays. Forgive me for paraphrasing but he recalls how special the Beatles were and how many people didn't get it. They didn't get how incredibly different they were than, say, the Rolling Stones. How can you compare? It makes me wonder about objective truth and the mystical value of music. How does the sound of the music relate to the music itself. More and more I find what I enjoy is the sonics, the soundspace, the quality of the music as contrasted with the notes. Nobody illustrates this better than the Beatles, Pink Floyd and Radiohead.

Do yourself a favor and stop reading this and put on Magical Mystery Tour or the White Album. I have spoken. Wait, then put on Dark Side of the Moon and Kid A. (Warning: don't ask yourself what you've done with your life in any temporal proximity to listening to this music unless you happen to be J.S. Bach.)

Issa

The farmer pauses,
wipes snotty fingers
on the plum blossom.

--Issa

I've decided Issa is the best Haiku poet ever. Don't try to deny it.

Make magazine

This week in the local hip bookstore I found a magazine that speaks to my desire to make things, aptly named Make (www.makezine.com). Or "Make: technology on your time" to be complete. Beside the subject matter, I was also drawn to its graphic design which is clean and interesting and suited to the purpose of outlining the projects contained inside, many of which are electronics, at least in this issue. I can't tell whether this discovery is ultimately good for the many unfinished and even unstarted projects I have. Is it inspiration or distraction? It's hard to know why I haven't got where I want to be (dare I say "finished"?) on the projects I do have going. In any event, I rationalize that this is at least a wholesome alternative to television. I wonder how much longer I can hide behind that one.

Flying home

Last night I returned to New York from a short trip to the South. Coming to LaGuardia airport from the south seems to have two potential flight paths, both of which I'm familiar with from the ground. (I'm strangely aware of airplanes, which are one of my obsessions). One path comes over Sandy Hook, NJ and then across Brooklyn, directly over the botanical gardens. On my previous trip I flew this way. But last night, we took the other path which is a little west, in line with the Hudson River which goes over Staten Island. Flying over my hometown like this at sunset was almost a religious experience. Actually, I wondered to myself whether this was a sign I was going to die shortly in a plane crash because of the complete catalog of remembrances shown to me from above, all in a matter of minutes. Place after place, association after association. Halloweens, adventures, car rides, summer nights, sledding, kisses in the park, it was all there.

It should be mentioned that every time I get on an airplane I wonder whether it's going to crash but that's not material to this.

String or nothing

I'm excited because I restrung my guitar. I have a Steinberger, which is an unusual guitar from the 80's that looks like a large black lollipop, and sounds even better. Or at least it has the potential to sound better than a gooey wad of sugar. A key factor is the f-ing strings. One thing I haven't mentioned is that a distinguishing feature of this guitar is that it's easy to string. You'd think this would encourage me to restring it more often but I don't. I have a good excuse: the strings for it are hard to find. That is, if you can't use the internet. After putting on these punchy new strings, I'm motivated to rock harder than ever before, but actually I'm home sick now typing on a laptop atop an improvised iLap, that is to say on a cookie sheet. It actually works really well. My lap is, that is to say my nads are cool and the fan doesn't sound like a 747 on takeoff. Friends, no more excuses, I am now committed to the proper care an maintenance of my guitar, as soon as I can hold my head up for more than ten minutes.