This blog will host my ramblings about life. To be a bit more specific, I'll probably focus on these subjects: music, sports, food, the everyday beauty of life, and the comedy/tragedy/absurdity of our existence. That about covers it.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Notes from a Wandering Mind
As I was listening to "Black Dog" by Led Zeppelin this evening on the drive back from Mattoon, I thought about how I'd like to see William Shatner do a dramatic reading of the lyrics.
I wonder if the kids will help me pick up the front yard. Those sweet gum balls aren't going to pick up themselves. "Kids, meet the Nut Wizard."
I caught a program tonight that featured baseball records that aren't likely to ever be broken. One I wasn't familiar with was Hack Wilson of the Cubs reaping 191 rbi in 1930. That's an astounding number, especially since they didn't play 162 games back then. And Hack is a great name for a baseball player--not a good one for a golfer though.
I rediscovered an old fashioned weight loss program a while back. Just get sick. I lost seven pounds. Now a number of my pants feel baggy.
I don't get texting. I mean, what the heck are all these people texting about? Then again, I've never liked phones.
On campus the other day, I saw a young lady texting while smoking a cigarette and crossing a major road.
Mrs. Nasty and my daughter bought tickets for a Taylor Swift concert this summer in Indy. The price per ticket was $84. That fact makes my head hurt. Translating that price tag to my concert-going inclinations, I could go to four shows for one ticket. Greed is good for Ms. Swift. I could say mean things, but I won't.
I was in a conversation the other day where people were discussing the merits of jazz music, which reminded me of my favorite elective course I had as an undergrad--Jazz History and Appreciation. And thinking about that class reminded me of Wynton Marsalis's Soul Gestures in Southern Blue trilogy of albums, which I listened to quite often when I was drafting my dissertation. Uptown Ruler, in particular, reminds of the room where I wrote the tome in our apartment in Tuscaloosa.
My favorite course in my undergraduate major was Mythology.
My least favorites were Victorian Literature (reading selections) and Intro to Poetry (professor).
I don't know why I can't seem to get interested in college basketball anymore. Alabama is back on the rise (won the SEC West), but maybe March Madness will pull me back like it usually does.
Labels:
Chicago Cubs,
Hack Wilson,
Literature,
Unintended Humor,
Writing Process
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2 comments:
I don't get texting. I mean, what the heck are all these people texting about? Then again, I've never liked phones.
How often do you tell those damn kids to get off your lawn? Twice a day?
Yeh, they better watch it.
And turn down that damn music.
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