I really couldn’t help myself. The Fiery One did it, so I did, too. Go to Slim Pickin's. It is strange to watch posts pop up and know that no one is behind them. There is no blogger lurking at the other end of all this wiring. There is only a computer program parading itself around as all these different personalities. A touch creepy, but it is fun to be “phoosaphant” and see what I do. It’s like the Sims, only I do not get to influence the experiment. I nearly didn’t do it when I read that I would not be able to even end the faux blog if I so chose. Once you start one, it will live on indefinitely creating posts and deceiving the innocent.
I made myself very happy with the purchase of a Johnny Cash 2-cd set. It includes the albums “Get Rhythm” and “Life Goes On.” I am a hater of country, generally, especially that new poppy boppy crap that is really substandard pop trying to legitimize itself by having its own genre. Johnny Cash, though, is old school folk as far as I am concerned. He is simply dreamy. When I heard that his wife had died, I was surprised at my emotional reaction. At the time, I thought to myself, well, that means Johnny will soon follow, and he did. I usually think that it is pure silliness when people mourn a famous person they have never met and only know of through their public representations. It is stupid and should be diverted into something containing actual meaning for the individual. When Johnny died, though, I allowed myself a small sense of loss knowing that the world would no longer have this particular something in it.
I went out with Amelia two nights ago, because she has just recently come back into town and we had not seen each other for weeks. We met at our favourite local pub, and she came bearing gifts. There were two of them. The first is called a ring box, although it is round and looks a bit like a small part of an ornate bannister with a lid, and the second was a bowl. Her father is a wood-turner, and quite good, I must say. I was unprepared for this giving of gifts, because, as I have said before, my mind is not on this Christmas thing much this year. Luckily, before I left my house, I had thought that my tin of lovely pear and blackberry drops would make a good offering for someone such as Amelia, who loves candies and was away for so long. This urge to gift happened quite independently of any acknowledgement of the season we are in, so I was lucky indeed to be able to whip the little candy drops out of my bag when she placed her gift for me on the table between us. I will truly try harder to be in the season next year, if only for the sake of others.
A fun perusal can be had by all. Watch out for its addictive qualities. It is like watching a car accident.
Slothdog’s Amazing Album Cover Finder is exactly what it says it is, except for the slothful dog part.
“The Homosexual Menace” by Tom Tomorrow.
Apparently, the Fiery One has bought me a really kick-ass Christmas present. I know this, because he has been bragging daily about how kick-ass my Christmas present is and how he can hardly wait until Christmas to give it to me. Last night, J. supported the truth of the kick-assedness of my present, and now I am feeling desperate. I am not good at this thoughtful gift-buying stuff. I draw blanks whenever I even consider buying something for someone else. I freeze up. I am impotent in the world of gift-offerings. I have purchased a couple of things for him, but they are not oh-my-god-that’s-unbelievable-how-did-you-know presents, and I only have four days of shopping left and meagre funds. No, this is not a oneupmanship, competition deal. This is me being stupidly insecure and feeling the need to impress him with how cool I am. I know, I know. I am already married to him, he probably knows exactly how cool I am, and he always likes my presents. He also never remembers what he got for any particular occasion, so if my gifts are sorry excuses, he will not remember what they were two months later. For example, for his birthday this last summer, I took him out for this amazing Mongolian hotpot dinner and gave him good-sized gift certificate to shop in his favourite local bookstore. He loved it, and he kept looking from me to his beloved gift certificate and saying I shouldn’t have. Two days ago, he remembered enjoying his birthday but could not recollect what I gave him. There, my gift-panic is subsiding, be he still better stop boasting, though, because I will be forced to smack him.
Johnny Cash Facts and Links:
* There are lots of photos and sound clips at this site.
* Obituaries from CNN, the BBC, the New York Times, the Guardian Unlimited, Rolling Stone, and the Village Voice.
* Another site honouring Johnny.
* Holy shit! You can send your loved ones Johnny Cash musicgrams! This so outshines the usual e-cards.
* Country music used to represent horses, railroads, land, judgment day, family, hard times, whiskey, courtship, marriage, adultery, separatism, murder, war, prison, rambling, damnation, home, salvation, death, pride, humor, piety, rebellion, patriotism, larceny, determination, tragedy, rowdiness, heartbreak, love, mother, and God.
– Johnny Cash
* Here is a list of some of Mr. Cash’s lyrics.
* Watch his “Hurt” video.
* A short comic about Johnny.
* Buy his autobiography.
* Yay, Johnny! That guy had hutzpah.
* A gallery featuring 50 photographs spanning Johnny Cash’s life.
* gnod is kind of beautiful and confusing. Remember to wait a while for things to settle out.
* “The Covers Project” lists the songs that Johnny Cash covered as well as Johnny Cash songs that were covered by others.
* Wikipedia on Johnny Cash.