mjj (flemmings) wrote,

Several things make an entry

1. One can't call Leonard Cohen's voice melodious, but on some albums he's more melodious than others; or maybe it's just his back-ups are. There are only two Cohens I can listen to in their entirety-- Songs of and Various Positions-- and I note that both those are associated with seminal years in my life. Ten New Songs is close behind; there are two tracks I always skip because their sound irks me, but the rest are magical. I can't listen to The Future or I'm Your Man at all (except for Everybody Knows); if there's a song in there, it doesn't make it past the voice and the arrangements. Of the other albums, I like either the obscure tracks (The Story of Isaac, The Partisan, Seems so longs ago, Nancy from Songs from a Room) or the well-known ones: Chelsea Hotel & Who by Fire from New Skin, Last Year's Man & Famous Blue Raincoat from Love and Hate. There's four albums I've never heard, not counting the new one. I may hope for some gold among them, maybe.

2. 'Never read the comments' is a maxim one should engrave on one's liver, as the Japanese say. I know this to be true of web forums and the Toronto Star, where Torontonians tend to be their unlovely selves except when bashing our pork-barrel mayor, an enterprise I can get behind. But The Globby Mail, Canada's National Newspaper? The level of racism there, and G&M equivalents of 'like', freezes my soul. I can only hope that it's *because* it's the national newspaper, and what I'm hearing is from rednecks in conservative small towns. But it's scary, in any case.

3. March brings us a Points novella. Am jonesing rather badly for same.

4. In the trivial losses category:
A contact lens disappeared into a black hole last night-- reached into my eye to pinch it off and it wouldn't pinch, dry eye and thin lenses being as they are; did all the hydrating things; still wouldn't pinch off; looked at mirror in annoyance, thought to close my good eye, and the world was fuzzy because the lens was gone. And I'd only worn it two days, rottit.

My useful lounge pants (sic) from six years ago, that look like and are used as pyjama bottoms, have developed holes this morning. 'Adieu my old overcoat.' But I can crop them off and use them as summer pyjama shorts, since winter or summer I seem to need my hips covered always.

5. Read Well Wished last night, which for no good reason makes me think of Tove Jansson; makes me think also of 'Well-wist Wal-wist where lay his fortune.' Kipling ambushes one at the oddest times.

6. The result of that Star column on Toronto Acupuncture Studio is that when I arrived for my Thursday night appointment, the place was full-- a dozen people at least where usually there's four or five. Nice for Ash but a little whatever-it-is for me.

7. It snows and is cold. Must treasure the occurrence in a winter that (mercifully) does little of either, though as ever I expect to pay for it come summer. Treasuring snow alas involves getting dressed warmly, doing stretching exercises, and trying to remove it from the sidewalk without annoying my shoulders. I go to do it.
Tags: music, points, rl_12

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