More book notes:
From the the chapter, titled, “My Scrotum Flew Tourist,” Kinky writes:
“The Kayans don’t give a flying Canadian whether they catch any fish of not. They claim to just be ‘visiting the fish.’ This quaint and primitively poetic little notion, unfortunately for them, does not culturally compute.” (page 28)
N.B.: That why this man, the author of that text, should be the next governor of Texas. Vote Kinky.
Besides, I like visiting the fish. Do it often. They look at me, and I look at them, and sometimes, that’s the way it is.
Anyway, back at the ranch:
Carole King’s Tapestry? 1971? That sound right?
And up on eBuy:
Some folks have all the luck.
Unrelated geography notation:
Spiritually, I’ve always considered eastern New Mexico to be part of Texas – since it was at one time, north and east of the Rio Grande. Part of Colorado, too. But, on my part, that’s just me being Texist.
The parents have landed.
Got them ensconced in one of those high-end places, a fur piece from my abode. Works better. It’s absolutely wonderful.
There’s one troubling aspect, I suppose, and being 200 miles removed is painful, in a way, because I don’t see them every day.
We dined with a friend of the family, and then I’d suggested, half as a lark, half serious, that there was a movie at the Alamo Draft House that I had a little interest in seeing: Moog. It was about the development, sort of a pseudo-documentary about synthesizer pioneer Robert Moog, and his instruments. What caught my eye, in the liner notes, was the mention of Rick Wakeman and Keith Emerson, both pioneers in “art rock,” stuff I liked, once upon a time.
Robert Moog is an engineer – that much was obvious from the film. And rock stars are rock stars, no matter what the medium. Jazz, fusion, and trying to remember, classical? I think so. My hastily scribbled notes included a point that the Moog Synthesizer is analog, not digital. Curious.
Pa Wetzel, was, at one time an engineer. Ma & Pa Wetzel dozed at moments during the show. Not that I blame them, either. Some of it was sort of boring, like it was 45 minutes of really good material with an extra half hour or so of unnecessary filler. Or necessary filler, all depends.
Ma Wetzel was aghast that I paid for the tickets, and she sought out the “handicapped” elevator for Pa Wetzel. But the stairs at the Alamo (downtown) are just way too long and tortuous for him. Glad there was an elevator.
I pointed out that the various loops I employ for the weekly audio file are similar in concept, albeit, entirely stock and digital, but the concept is familiar from what Engineer Moog was talking about.
What was the rude awakening for me at the end of the night was helping my father out to the car. He took a slightly longer route to avoid stairs. That’s just not a good sign. I didn’t realize that getting around was starting to be such a problem. He’s taken to using two canes.
What are you going to do?
During the film, Ma Wetzel did help herself to an Amy’s dish of chocolate ice cream. In part, internally, I was going to recoil, but then, I smiled, in the dark. At this point in her life? If she wants a tub of ice cream? You go, girl.
A good time was had by all.
