BTW, have I mentioned recently how wonderful my baby is for putting up with me over the past year, as nicotine withdrwal combined with a wonky thyroid made every aspect of my body chemistry turn somersaults, often for weeks at a time?
Year: 2004
Pictures
If you’re thinking “about damned time”, you’re probably right. After many months, I’ve finally posted a new set of pictures over at Planet SOMA. Enjoy…
Muzak
You never much hear “real” Muzak anymore. I mean the genuine article, the whiny instrumental versions of currently and formerly popular songs which used to be everywhere from elevators to malls to supermarkets. Like “The Sounds of 1000 Strings Play the Rolling Stones” or whatever. They wouldn’t even play the original version of a song if it were a Lawrence Welk polka; it would be re-recorded to eliminate anything which even resembled an edge or an actual emotion…
It used to be lots of fun — a bit of a game even — to see just which songs you might hear in a surreal instrumental version while walking down the produce aisle at Kroger or ducking into Belk’s for some underwear. Some of the more bizarre ones I personally remember include “Funkytown”, “Stairway to Heaven”, and that Robin Gibb classic “Boys Do Fall in Love”, which wasn’t really a very big hit even in its original version and probably didn’t really merit the Muzak treatment…
Muzak is all about different formats now, generally presenting the blandest elements of any genre from adult contmporary to alternative rock to hip hop. But once in a great while, you can still find “Muzak classic”. I found it today at the Burger King on Bayshore Boulevard, and of all things, what should I hear but a cheesy instrumental arrangement of an Elvis Costello song. And it wasn’t some latter-day ballad like “Every Day I Write the Book”. It was “(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes”…
Very strange…
You never much hear “real” Muzak anymore. I mean the genuine article, the whiny instrumental versions of currently and formerly popular songs which used to be everywhere from elevators to malls to supermarkets. Like “The Sounds of 1000 Strings Play the Rolling Stones” or whatever. They wouldn’t even play the original version of a song if it were a Lawrence Welk polka; it would be re-recorded to eliminate anything which even resembled an edge or an actual emotion…
It used to be lots of fun — a bit of a game even — to see just which songs you might hear in a surreal instrumental version while walking down the produce aisle at Kroger or ducking into Belk’s for some underwear. Some of the more bizarre ones I personally remember include “Funkytown”, “Stairway to Heaven”, and that Robin Gibb classic “Boys Do Fall in Love”, which wasn’t really a very big hit even in its original version and probably didn’t really merit the Muzak treatment…
Muzak is all about different formats now, generally presenting the blandest elements of any genre from adult contemporary to alternative rock to hip hop. But once in a great while, you can still find “Muzak classic”. I found it today at the Burger King on Bayshore Boulevard, and of all things, what should I hear but a cheesy instrumental arrangement of an Elvis Costello song. And it wasn’t some latter-day ballad like “Every Day I Write the Book”. It was “(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes”…
Very strange…
Flush, Dammit
When I first moved to San Francisco in 1992, Northern California was coming off a bit of a drought. The trendy thing to do was to skip flushing the toilet when one had merely urinated. There were cutesy little signs in some restaurants which read “If it’s yellow, please be mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down.” or simply “Don’t flush for pee.” The product of a long dry spell augmented by a little too much patchouli, I assumed at the time, thinking it might be a trend which would go away eventually…
But it hasn’t, despite the end of the aforementioned drought. And I’m really fucking tired of walking up to urinals in public restrooms and taking a big, involuntary whiff the fresh, steaming piss left by the asshole who used it just before me. Get a clue: you’re not the environmentalist you think you are. You’re just a rude, disgusting slob who can’t even follow a basic rule of public hygiene. You are not in your own home. You are in a public place. And what the fuck did you have for lunch today anyhow?
There. I’ve said it. I feel better now. Thanks for listening…
Documenting
In celebration of our recent anniversary and of our impending move (although the destination is now somewhat up in the air), Mark and I spent almost two hundred bucks yesterday signing and notarizing our assorted wills, powers of attorney, and other legal documents in an effort to secure approximately one tenth of the legal protections heterosexual couples are granted when they sign one simple fucking marriage license…
Maybe a new way to proceed with this whole marriage issue would be to sue the state for imposing an unfair financial burden (in the form of notary fees) on a specific segment of its population…
I don’t seem to be writing very much lately. I guess my husband is the prolific member of the family these days. All the same, I’m adding an abridged version of the journal entries I SHOULD HAVE written for the last two weeks.
And — even though I know it will horrify some “purists” who take this whole web journal thing WAY too seriously — I fully intend to integrate them into the archives where they would have appeared to begin with. Don’t like it? Tough. It’s my website and I’ve probably been doing this longer than you have anyway…