Tuesday, March 11, 23:26 CST

the mix cd and how i want to give you one

Inspired by Brokentype, and my desire to be the kind of person who makes mix tapes and CDs and finds that people actually like them...

All right, here's the deal. I am going to go buy a big spindle full of blank discs, and then I am going to sit down and make a mix CD. I'm going to put some thought into it, because I'm going to try to make it represent what it is that I'm listening to right now, as much as I can without spending way too much time, and I'm pretty willing to be flexible about what constitutes way too much. What's more, I'm going to do the same thing next week, or at least the week after next, since next week is spring break and I'm still cherishing the illusion that I will figure out somewhere brilliant to go, and I'm going to try to keep doing it, week after week, month after month, you get the idea, but not so regularly that it becomes a grudging task.

Here's your bit: Write me an e-mail, even a really simple one, containing an address that the US Postal Service, for whom I generally have way more respect than use of the term snailmail might indicate, will be able to do something with - and I will send you some music. The most recent version of Whatever I Want the World to Know I'm Hearing will be yours, free of immediate monetary cost.

It won't always be a CD. Some times it might be a tape, or a wax cylinder, or, I don't know, a stack of crude ink paintings on cheap typing paper made while listening to something. I do that once in a while.

I'm not expecting a lot of takers on this. I'm not sure I'm expecting any takers on this. I would be happy if I got a few, and one way or another, it's going to be a standing offer.

Tuesday, March 11, 0:49 CST

So I didn't see Rilo Kiley tonight, but I wanted to.

What I did do - and this I didn't think I wanted, but in retrospect if I hadn't maybe I would have given up after the first five minutes - was stand in line hoping for a dozen people to trickle out of the bar so they would let us - us in the all-of-the-people-standing-here sense, not the people-I-came-with sense, because I didn't go with anyone - in so we could hear the music and pay them to give us beer that there's no way most of us really need on a Monday night, least of all me.

And then I gave up and walked away. I'll bet it was a good show. In fact, I'll bet it's finishing up right about now, and for a few seconds longer, it probably still is a good show.

This is the last week of classes before spring break, and my midterms are all over, all three of them, so for all practical intents and purposes, folks, we are already entering flux time. In fact, we have been edging into flux time for longer than I can really nail down, maybe for something like a month, but it is about to kick into overdrive and this is good, because I have been telling myself that things are getting entirely too concrete, entirely too worn-in-the-grooves, my sense of things slipping is slipping, it is time for something to kick loose again and let the jagged edges, the ragged free-flying debris, tear gaping holes in everything where air and light and fast moving road surface can show through.

p1k3 / 2003 / 3 / 11