( other months' notes ) ( last month: January 2001 ) ( next few months: March-June 2001 )

dlevy has gone into more detail on the sing-along Evita show. Something that occurred to me while I was there but forgot to ask anyone: I guess studios are allowed to own movie theaters again? Obviously Disney owns the El Capitan. Do they own it directly or through an affiliated company? Is this going to become common again? Preserving old movie palaces, at least, is a worthy cause imho.

Like I said, I had fun at Evita, mainly because I hadn't seen the film and thought it, while perhaps not Great, worth seeing - it may have been a bonus to have the lyrics on the screen cause I hardly ever can catch all song lyrics the first time through (and the whole movie was lyrics!). But naturally Mary Poppins will be much more fun cause those are fun songs I know already. peachy keen!

Why is it so hard for me to concentrate on doing something, like (in time past) a paper that's due, or (in time present) a report/manual for the client, even the very night before it needs to be done? You would think motivation would ensue. "fear will keep the local braincells in line. fear of this deadline." but instead the mind wanders ever more insistently and automatically.

on the plus side, at least my new year's resolution is still intact.

Finally my DSL is working! hallelujah!

And the dealership service tech guy took a look at my back bumper, where it was lightly hit yesterday, as we all inched along the loop of the 405 off-ramp, by the SUV behind me, populated by a cute couple who got a little too lovey-dovey at the wrong moment, but they didn't hit me very hard -- anyway, service guy says there's absolutely no problem. The paint isn't even nicked, so I was hoping he'd say that.

And I went to "Sing-along Evita" last night with some friends and had a fun time. ('Death isn't funny!')

Life is good. Now all i need is a working answering machine.

And a healthy work ethic. I could use one of those too. and a million dollars. and world peace. anyway, happy Saturday.

I really AM not allowed to have all my devices working simultaneously. It looks like my DSL connection is finally going to be up and running now, but my answering machine has begun to flash "F" (full), and refuses to record any new messages, even though I have erased all saved messages and it is definitely NOT full. I guess that's what I get for buying the cheapest available answering machine.

But at least it's Friday.

because my fish knows where to go.

(--neil gaiman, the sandman)

Today and last evening I fear
that my writing skills are turning queer
(no not in that way,
but like old folks would say):
When I write, only lim'ricks appear.

I've always been partial to rhyme,
But I may be in for it this time;
This limerick-itis
I must give its quietus
Before the next hour-bell chime.

Are limericks all I can do?
I fear, sometimes, it may be true
That I'll never be
In a history
'Cept perhaps as a sister to Stew.

But still, I reflect, I am young
And I stand yet on a lower rung
of the ladder. I'll bet
I can conquer it yet
If once I can untwist my tongue.

Tongues aren't used to climb! yes I know,
But the metaphor from me would flow
Whether I would or nay.
So get you away
With your puzzled complainings of woe.

What I meant was: I know I can write;
If once I can start, then I might
Find I've got things to say
In my very own way,
In a weaving of darkness and light.

But I will not know till I try.
So procrastinotorious I
must try, and not shirk.
But first: off to work.
So now, for the moment, good-bye.

This afternoon there was a respectably populous group at the federal building, distracting traffic on Wilshire, eastbound especially. They were protesting for human rights in Iran (including women's rights and freeing student prisoners), with many flags and homemade signs ("Don't Let Khatami Fool You"), and two guys each with a bullhorn in different parts of the group, one speaking English and one Farsi (I presume). I honked, as we inched by. It was the first time I've honked the horn of my-new-car-that-I-love. I choose to see it as good luck that the first honk was made to show support instead of anger or fear.

it's true, i hardly ever honk my horn at all. i've had this car for nearly a month now. i gripe at uncouth behavior of fellow drivers, now and then, but not so they can hear me and come after me with guns.

This morning I woke to sounds of rain, a cozy sound when warm in bed with no particular reason to get up. But then I decided I wanted to take a little drive, from a combination of pickiness and laziness. The spattering of rain last week left my recently-washed car covered with little dirt circles, and I hoped I could wash them off with a good freeway run in the rain, so I wouldn't have to worry about washing my car again for a little longer. And I needed to get my prescription refilled at the RiteAid a few blocks over. Normally I would walk, but if I'm going out anyway I could stop by; parking would be no problem (and free) at 7 am on a Saturday.

My radio was still on Pacifica 90.7, and now they were playing old-time country music, or maybe that sort is bluegrass (banjos were often involved) or maybe folk, of the Woody Guthrie sort. I'm not very familiar with the nuances of genre in that realm. Whatever the label, it sounded like music of my Appalachian ancestors, and felt right for my rainy drive in early morning light. I explored around some streets out to the beach and up a bit and back. What would my ancestors think of me and my world? What would I think of the world a hundred years from now?

Maybe I'll get to find out that last one, if I get really really lucky. Ha.

On my way home, I started to explore the radio dial, since I've now forgotten what else is out there besides KPCC, the two classical stations, Star and KROQ. (My favorite pop/rock station died some time ago and was reincarnated as Spanish-language music.) Almost immediately I discovered my local Pacifica Radio (90.7) winding up a pledge drive by airing a tape of a Howard Zinn (American history) lecture at Boston College. Pinko commie radio! Yum. New one for the pushbuttons. I'm going to run out of buttons if this keeps up. Sadly, I suspect it won't. I wonder why all the public radio stations huddle together (for warmth?) down at the low end of the numbers.

This evening, through serendipitous turns of events, I found myself thoughtfully riding a carousel in the Media Center Mall in Burbank, in the distant company of a very young girl and her mother, at the time that most other people were home getting set to watch Survivor. On the whole, I prefer the merry-go-round, particularly its endearing ... what's the word for a circus-organ? you know what I mean. anyway, its spangly version of the Marines' Hymn, among other things.

It reminded me of childhood. More on this later.

Cold winds have come again, to chase away
The heat of stolen days of summertime;
Such joy and hopeful freedom could not stay;
Bleak February seeks its rightful clime.
Where children's laughter echoed, frightened leaves,
Who thought the time for spring had early come,
Fall frozen from the branches of the trees
And hide themselves in corners, one by one.
But sure as waves forever wash the sand,
The silent Ferris wheel will turn again;
Against the turning seasons none may stand;
The summer will yet be, as it has been.
The wheel-top view remembered, saw this end:
My enemy - my fellow-man - my friend.

Today in history: Settlers and the un-settled who prefer to sacrifice children for land rather than the other way round. Arabs killing Jews. Jews killing Arabs. Disillusioned Israeli Arabs not voting. So many people wishing God would wipe out all the men, women and children on the other side, just like old times (and since He hasn't Himself, He must want Us to do it Ourselves). The whole Israel/Palestine situation is almost too frustrating for words, but here's a few:

The only thing required for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing.

Are there even enough people left in the middle ground to make a stand? Or have they already fled to saner lands, or to the wings of their own side, losing faith in the other?

I thought the mechanical curse had struck again this morning, when my boombox refused to recognize my Erasure "pop! 20 hits" CD. But no, I discovered the CD has a scratch nearly from edge to center. When did THAT happen?? Dangit, I need that disc for a mix.

However, I am typing here in the earlyish morning with my sliding door open, and wonderfully temperate air floating in; all is well with the world. CDs are replaceable. A morning of perfect temperature must be savored in the moment.

float float float.

sun. warm. outdoor lunch patio, calitalian. grass, trees, flowers. open sunroof, turnin' radio up. breeze making temp just right. climbing the trees (well, some of us. i climbed in spirit). getting down without falling. santa monica pier ferris wheel. a bemusing and amusing pair of guys in blue jerseys, small white shorts, and tall black leather six-inch-platform boots. shiny happy people everywhere, some on wheels. eighty-degree weather on the fourth of february. view from the top of the ferris wheel: ocean, beach, hotels, apartments, city, mountains. and most important, company of friends. all these things combining into a swirling immersion of happiness. all these things made my day.

It seems to me that every year, during either the first or second week of February, a short spell of hot weather arrives to reward us for spending our winter in California instead of, say, Pittsburgh. That taste of summer is now upon us, since at least yesterday (I don't see much of weekdaylight lately so I'm not sure) and through the first day or two of next week.

mmm eighty-degree (fahrenheit) weather. my element. I took the opportunity to wash my-new-car-that-i-love for the first time (the rainstorms of a couple weeks ago postponed this event). Just to make sure I was doing it right, I consulted Learn2.com's "Learn to Wash a Car" which helped me assemble the proper materials and methodology. mmmm shiny spick-n-span silver car.

Why am I so deficient in life skills like boiling eggs and washing cars? I guess I was reading all the time and not often forced to do chores by my parents. Guess whose kids (assuming they ever exist) aren't going to get off quite as easily.

yep, I've decided. I'm not going to bother watching Survivor any more. I suppose the root of my interest was imagining the possibilities and outcomes if I were stranded with other people in a remote area, or in a post-industrial time. But this isn't a real "tribe," it's a game; in a real tribe, strong, honest, reliable people would be valued above lazy-asses who poke fun at others' lack of fishing skills without even attempting to develop their own. This game, and the people they keep picking to participate in it, posit that you should be selfish and deceitful to "survive." Forget that. Nice guys don't finish last in MY universe.

1 February 2001 part second: network tv prison experiment.

wait, i guess that was 'big brother.' anyway the survivor peoples voted off the guy i liked best of all of them and so i am bitter. all the sneaky people are going to end up on top again, aren't they. i shouldn't even bother watching the stupid show this time if it's just going to aggravate me again.

snort.

another reason not to watch is the list below. do you see tv anywhere on that list? i don't. ah, idealism.

things to do: