Tag Archives: music

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head in the clouds


Yesterday was real productive…. Got a lot of work minutia killed off that’s been piling up over the last few weeks while I was putting out bigger fires.

Running 40 minutes out of the city to a sign fabricator was on the list of stuff to do… And what a great day to do it… It was one of those clear, crisp autumn days…. trees are starting to turn… and the sky… woooah… was just one constant evolving photo-opp. I find it curious that it’s taken me this long to start (consistently) noticing the sky.

I found a copy of Louder than Bombs in the car’s door pocket.

Perfect! Glum manchester music, a ride in the car with the windows down and beautiful semi-chilly weather.

I’m forcing myself to use my camera phone more impulsively. A good exercise too since I (still) have to send in the big camera for service.

I’m also forcing myself to not blog about anything in particular.

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an absurd notion

an absurd photograph

So we swing by the local Streetside Records so babybear can get his music browsing fix and I can pick up Bad Religion’s new album. Low and behold – what’s sitting there in the D section?

ONCE AGAIN in my life, I’m transformed into a 15-year-old squealing school girl, lobbing my training bra up on stage at Nick.

This is too embarassing to blog about…

(monkeybear teases hair and holds up lit bicâ„¢ lighter)

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morrissey and reddi-wip


The first SPIN I ever bought was in Florida in 1990, which also featured a cover shot of the monster spawned by November. I was a Smiths fan before – but only in an armchair sense.
Reading that issue of SPIN galvanized my love for the brooding celibate.

pudding cup

Funny… Here it is 14 years later,… there’s a Bush in office… again… and once again Morrissey is getting mainstream attention.

The Last of the Famous International Playboys is aging more gracefully than I am, but there was something nice to see we share greying temples.

I’ve only heard one of the new singles… and of course… liked it. I’ve heard that the Smiths are getting back together and touring this year.

I’m sorry – I can’t blog right now… I now need to put Band-Aids on my nipples and dance.

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used

odd album coverschad shopping

Up and out of the house early yesterday to head over to my dad’s to help him with a couple of things…. Since it’s right down the street from his place – a Costco trip was in order.

It wasn’t until I was rolling my spoils out to the car that I noticed what a fantastic day it was… Breezy, 68, big puffy clouds in the sky…. I put in Paul’s Boutique, opened the windows and took the long way home.

The boys had just gotten out of bed when I finally came back.

It’s VERY unlike Chad to say he wants something – so when he does finally pipe up and make a request, I’m apt to drop everything and attend to his wishes.

“I want to go to the used record store”

I didn’t need an excuse to go back out in the wonderful weather.

Kevin’s not a music junky and opted to stay home, sip coffee, read and knit.

The Record Exchange is a used record, CD and DVD shop which inhabits a once abandoned, HUGE, 50’s public library. I like to go just to drool on the mid-century modern architecture.

The shop smells like vinyl and old books… Proof positive that even after decades, you can’t get rid of that “library smell”.

The inventory is so vast my eyes usually cross about 1/3 of the way in.

Chad on the other hand couldn’t be happier, and will go through every nook and cranny with a fine tooth comb.

I found a new pass-time while he shops: Look at old vinyl album covers.

It seems I’ve developed a morbid aesthetic fascination with the 1970s.

Spending my formative years in the late 80’s – I’ve always had nothing but distain for the wide-collared 70’s… But lately I find myself looking back at the decade which bore me with endearing eyes.

The unkempt men and the unapologetically slutty women the awkward sense of design. This was the ugly payback from our parent’s socially significant antics of the 60’s beginning to rear it’s head.

Now don’t get me wrong… I’m not going to run out and buy a leisure suit and grow an afro.

I’m not going to blog about this either.

(*cue 70’s porn soundtrack*)