Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

Gotta write ROTK review soon, but want to get this out of the way before it slips clear out of my head.

Driving home from rehearsal, I flipped the radio to WRNR about the start of the instrumental break of a song. I heard somewhat non-rock-like percussion, so I turned it up, and at a more reasonable highway volume I heard classic-rock in the drum part, but also other influences, some of which were not quite identifiable. So I turned it up a little louder still, and got interested in how the other parts were interacting with the drag-you-forward, splashy/crashy drums. Then the guitar solo came to my attention.

It was an unusual solo. And while I was trying to watch out for traffic on I95 and puzzle out what was odd about the guitar solo at the same time, it suddenly hit me: those were "Glennish" note choices and picking style. Except that it wasn't how I'd play a lead/solo there; it was how I play what I call "background lead guitar" -- flatpicked melodic improvisation designed to go behind vocals (or behind a lead instrumental melody) ... basically guitar accompaniment that's not "rythm guitar" or a bass part). So I was wondering who this guitarist was who played like me, and then the vocals came back in.

And I recognized the voice of one of my guitar heroes.

That was a really odd feeling.

"The latest edition of D&D includes neither the random prostitutes table, nor the table of random demon noses. Both these tables were present in an earlier edition. They should never, ever be combined." -- badmagic, 2003-10-14.

Last night I slept extremely poorly. I had eaten a banana and taken my magnesium tablets before bed, but this was still one of those nights where my legs woke up about every half hour. Then I had something to do this morning earlier than I'm usually up. So I'm a little tired.

But after running various errands (which took longer than planned, partly because one step just took longer, but mostly because I had unscheduled but very enjoyable conversations with cool folks), I'm home again, trying to decide whether to tackle the other things on my to-do list that I have to go elsewhere for, or declare it the start of the holiday.

I came home and was greeted by Perrine, who shortly thereafter went and curled up on one of the chairs under the kitchen table. I checked my mail, realized I was very hungry, and went into the kitchen to make pancakes. And I noticed that the house seemed unusually quiet. A quiet of the serene sort. It feels like a snow day (we had light rain when I went out, heavy rain while I was out, and we're back to light rain for the moment ... it's not anywhere near cold enough for snow). That blanket of calm that descends when snow muffles everything? I'm feeling and hearing that on this warm and rainy Christmas eve. So maybe the house really is more quiet -- there's still traffic on Lombard and Fulton, but it could be a little less than usual (despite the extra noise of tires on wet roads). Or maybe it's me that's quiet.

As I started the pancakes (waking Perrine briefly to let her lick the fork with which I whisked the batter, which she appreciated), I realized that part of the quiet was that I didn't have the radio on, and I'd been listening to a pleasant selection of holiday music on WRNR in the car. So I tuned in WRNR and the presence of music did nothing to make the house feel any less quiet, so I got to have my music and my special quietude at the same time. *whew*

I've got a lot to do. But I'm feeling too mellow to race around doing it. So I'll get done what I get done, and hope to be sortakinda prepared for tomorrow by the time tomorrow arrives, maybe pour myself a glass of wine, maybe even read a book -- something I have not slowed down enough for in too long a time -- and take this evening as my religious contemplation part of the holiday. Tomorrow I'll be at the home of my brother's in-laws (where I've mentioned before I feel quite comfortable), and that'll be really nice, but much less quiet. At least not this kind of quiet. Rather than try to shoehorn something like this into an already scheduled day, I'll take it now, having found it by surprise. I still do have some things I really have to do, including figuring out whether I'll be going to my mother's house in Bowie before we all assemble in Rockville tomorrow, and finding out whether my brother will be bringing a guitar amplifier, but I'm going to try to devote most of the rest of Christmas eve to thinking, enjoying my surroundings and the company of my cat, writing on LiveJournal, reading, and playing guitar (and maybe some mandolin and recorder). Peaceful things. Maybe I can finally kick this sometimes-background-sometimes-main-event headache that's been dogging me the past week.

I can think of things that would make this day even better -- if the cars on Fulton Ave. were just a little quieter, if I could get WRNR in the office and/or bedroom, if my fireplace were already restored so I could sit by a wood fire, if I had a glass of Scotch I can't afford (Balvenie Portwood), if certain people lived closer -- but all in all I can't actually complain about this day, at least not the way I feel right now. I'll spend more time away from the front of the house, I'll wander into the kitchen when I want to hear a song or two, it's not cold enough to need the warmth of a fire (the furnace isn't even on today), I can make a glass of wine last as long as a glass of Scotch and it's still a pleasant sensory experience, and I'll see some of the people I want to see over the next few days (and try to figure out when to see the others), so I think I'm in decent shape to enjoy the afternoon. And basically, I don't get very many days that feel like this, so it's a ball of goodness. I've got my Christmas lights plugged in in the blue bedroom (I never take them down; I just had to plug them in) for that Christmas mood. I never did set up the full-size artificial tree (nor clear out the living room), but I moved the itty bitty tree (about a foot tall) to the stereo in the front hall that currently serves as a mail-and-keys table. (I took a photo of Perrine in front of it last night, which I'll get developed someday.) So officially I've decorated, so there. I finally feel Christmassy. A little late for getting everything done that I needed to start two or three weeks ago, but in plenty of time to enjoy feeling like it's Christmas.

Joyeux Noël, tout mes amis!

A day-early Christmas present -- I got three rolls of film from 2001 developed. Now I'm looking at the negatives, and thinking things like, "She's pretty, but I'm having trouble identifying her with all the colours reversed," and "I need to carve this scene into a piece of brass." And, of course, "Gee, I wonder whether so-and-so remembers that sie asked me to photograph that for hir?"

I love the way silmaril writes. Today, in the middle of a longer set of impressions she wrote:

A lone accordion player was playing Christmas carols to a sparse Mall in Central Park. A girl stood there some ten paces away, bouncing to find a balance step, until their eyes met. The accordionist transformed the carol to a 3/4 tempo and the girl waltzed all the way to his busker's box to drop a dollar. Within twenty steps, Central Park felt like far, far away, even with all the buildings around and visible over the treetops. I got to see something I'd never seen in my life---ducks skidding on ice, as they landed after short flights or tried to waddle to bread pieces thrown to them.

Yes, I'm posting a lot today. It's part of that quiet mood, actually, coupled with pent-up frustration at not having had time to post a lot recently when I've had ideas strike me.

I was just in the basement checking laundry, and Perrine likes to play "chase" in the basement. I caught her lurking around the corner of a pile of boxes, waiting to swat an ankle, so I leapt around the corner and got her to run the other way. We played around corners of things for a couple minutes, then she ran to the pottery wheel. (For folks joining late, yes, there's a pottery wheel in my basement.) She managed to get into a spot where I couldn't easily reach and certainly couldn't follow, so I changed body-language to signify that I was target again, and made a dash for the stairs. Yup, she gave chase ... but she didn't follow me. Those stairs have no vertical panels between the steps, so she cut me off, leapt up several steps, and met me head-on through the stair.

Perrine definitely won that round, and we both know it.