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Long day.
My house has been chirping. Despite the amazing human
mechanisms for locating the direction of a sound source,
there are certain sounds it is very difficult to get a
direcitonal fix on. (As an extreme case of this, I recall
being in a fast-food restaurant with madbodger,
standing at the counter when the French-fry machine started
beeping. At the first beep, a worker started to turn toward
the machine. The second beep was nearly matched for pitch
and timing by
madbodger, and the worker looked
slightly confused. The third and successive beeps were
matched for pitch, timing, attack, and probably phase, and
the fast food worker's eyes went wide as he looked around
the place trying to get the direction of this now Coming
From Every Direction sound. He eventually decided that even
though it didn't sound like it was coming from the direction
of the fry machine, it was the fry machine noise so it had
to be that. But I digress. That wasn't what I sat down to
write about at all. I just wasn't sure when else I'd have
such an excuse to tell that story.)
My house has been chirping. It's a chirp that's hard to catch the direction of, and at such long intervals that an impression of the direction of the sound never has a chance to build up.
My house has five smoke detectors. Well, five that I've found anyhow. I just went through all five of them trying to figure out which one was chirping -- I only had one set of batteries handy. My house also has high ceilings, but fortunately most of the smoke detectors can be reached from a stair (if you're nearly as tall as I am, anyhow). I'd been to all three floors before I remembered there was a smoke detector in the basement.
I started loading the car sometime fifteenish in the afternoon, and got to the site for the gig a little after sixteen o'clock. A couple of hours later we had the knobs all twiddled correctly on the sound system, and it was time to start performing. Oops, no nap. We played at various times during the event, and (with the dancers) bookended the feast. We couldn't do all the teardown and packup immediately afterwards because of the ceremony that followed the feast. I pulled out of the parking lot to go home about half past midnight, and by the time I finished unloading the car and trying to figure out where to set things down such that I'd still be able to walk from one end of my house to the other, it was a third past one.
Long day. Very tired musician. I've got some thoughts about how the evening went to express, which I may or may not get around to writing later.
When I looked up before getting out of my car after returning home, I saw a kitty in the window. Perrine was perched in the living-room widow, looking at my car. I'm going back to bed now, where my cat can curl up secure that I'm within sight. Me, I'm barely keepin' my eyes open.
Kitty in the window and a rat on the sidewalk. I think the rat was out of Perine's field of view most of the time I watched it. Got undressed, fed the cat, hunted the chirping smoke detector, sat down to write this, dozed off in my chair, woke up again, decided to call this finished whether it is or not... Much of me hurts. This was a long day.