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Friday, December 30, 2005

Not to beat a dead horse with a broken record, but sheesh. Enough with the rain already.

On the other hand, I think I have it arranged so that I donít have to leave the house again until at least Tuesday, so let it pour. My last outing of 2005 took me to the post office, because I had something that needed to go out, and the bank, because I had something that needed to go in. If the Boss hadnít suddenly decided at seven oíclock last night that we needed another three thousand showing in our checking account, I would have made only one stop today.

If only I hadnít had to wade out through the mud to get to my mailbox this afternoon, I would have been warm and cozy after I got back from my errands. And if I hadnít waited until after five oíclock, when it was nearly dark, I could have seen where I was walking. Not that it mattered, since I couldnít have avoided the deep mud even if Iíd known where I was going. The worst part of this episode was that there was no mail! Except for a bunch of ads, and Iím not going anywhere to do any shopping until the rain stops, even if it takes until May.

Since I didnít hear from the Boss today, even after leaving him a message pleading for some information I need to close out the books for the year, I assume heís busy digging out of the mud himself. Either that, or he forgot to check his messages again. Whatever. At least I didnít have a lot of his mindless busywork to do and could concentrate on my own mindless busywork.




18 December 2005

Shelter from the storm.



Ah, New Yearís Eve. I havenít been invited to any parties that I have to think of a way of getting out of going to. Iíll have no desire to be out on the road with all the amateur drinkers tomorrow night, so I have no problem staying home alone and watching Dick Clark totter out on Ryan Seacrestís arm to ring in the rockiní new year one more time. The only problem with that is, here on the west coast we get a taped version three hours after it happens. It takes a little of the mystery out of the changeover.




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Stuff

I havenít done any tinkering with my XM radio yet, but Iím almost ready to program my favorite channels into the presets. I already knew I loved The Loft (which bills itself as ďacoustic rockĒ but is really singer-songwriter rock, and at one point today played Dave Mason, Darden Smith, Shawn Colvin and Bruce Springsteen back-to-back). And Iím very fond of X-Country (which says it plays alt-country and progressive country, and has introduced me in one day to Jud Newcomb, the Waco Brothers and the Drive By Truckers). I also listened to an interview-laden Eagles retrospective on The 70s on 7, and Haydnís Drumroll Symphony on XM Classics. And while I was spinning the dial I caught ďSmoke Smoke Smoke That Cigarette,Ē by Tex Williams (Capitol Recordsí first million seller), on The 40s on 4.

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One year ago: Booming
"Whatís up for tonight, locusts?"


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