"Got the 8-track version of the soundtrack to my life today. Turned out to be 19 years of white noise punctuated by ads for Clearasil. Note To Self: Before ordering the CD version of the soundtrack to your life, be sure you have a life first. Or at least lose the zits." - Old Style Personal Journal Entry Dated March 25, 1978.
Journal entries about what their author
can't do are a drag. You know the type: "I can't go to the
prom - boohoo," "I can't loan you money - haha," "I can't breath - HELP!"
BOR-ing. And yet there comes a time in every journal writer's life
when he or she just can't help but write a "What I can't do" entry.
This isn't one of those times but, now that I've written such a special
introductory paragraph to one of those times, I find it becoming one as
I'm inexorably drawn to write more.
Damn.
As it turns out, the thing I really, really can't do today is remember
the last time anyone asked me what my favorite music is. I think
Hans, my imaginary European friend, asked a few months ago, but only to
get me to stop elaborating on my theory that Kafka's still alive - that
the real Kafkaesque twist to his life is that while everyone thinks he
died in 1924, he's actually stuck in some forgotten back ward somewhere,
a 115-year-old man who's been utterly paralyzed and trying to find a way
out of his own head for the last 75 years. Why do I think this? Because
to believe the standard story is to believe he died at age 40 and what
40-year-old writer such as myself wants to believe that? Poe died
at 40 - that's enough, dammit. Quota fulfilled!
On the other hand, it might have been Sylvia, my imaginary wheelchair-bound
friend, who last asked me what my favorite music is. But probably
not. We never really got to know each other very well before she
went away to podiatrist school. Unable to feel her own feet anymore,
you see, she decided to devote her life to feeling the feet of others.
I wish her well.
In any case, I do have a list of favorite music, and what's more, I
know what it is. And if I'm ever questioned under oath, I'd have
no choice but to say that I've had such a list since I was about three
years old. Back then, though, I didn't know what it was.
And I didn't find out until I was about thirteen or so. That is to
say, I had this tune stuck in my head between ages three and thirteen but
no name or title to go with it. Turned out to be Henry Mancini's
"Baby Elephant Walk." Imagine that. Up til then, I hadn't even
suspected baby elephants could walk.
If you'd like a shot at getting it stuck in your head for the next decade
or so, click here.
Today I have a different, somewhat longer list of favorite music.
"Compassion" by Spirit of Eden is on it.
So are Hooverphonic's "A New Stereophonic Sound Spectacular" and "Blue
Wonder Power Milk" CDs.
And that silvery disc from Saint Etienne they call "Good Humor"."
And "Zero One: Calculated Adventures In Electronica" from Brazil, courtesy
Waveform Records.
And "Earthjuice - Vol. 1" - what with its hypnotically kickass "Home" opening cut and all.
(Also from Waveform for you trivia buffs.)
And Air's "Moon Safari." It's a French version of, umm, psychedelic
jazz.
Rule of thumb: The less I can hear or understand the lyrics, the better
I like it. If I can understand the lyrics, they better be a) nonsensical,
b) repeated and repeated until they become nonsensical, or c) both a) and
b).
Gee, is it too late to apply that rule of thumb to this entry?
Gee, is it too late to apply that rule of thumb to this entry?
Gee, is it too late to apply that rule of thumb to this entry?
Gee, is it too late to apply that rule of thumb to this entry?
Gee, is it too late to apply that rule of thumb to this entry?
NOTE: The word "elephant" in this entry was invested by Mrs. A.B. of Lima, Ohio. To learn how and why YOU should invest a word in this journal, click here.
Because the main use of the word "elephant" in this entry may easily be mistaken for a stunningly gutsy investment move by the now-dead Henry Mancini instead of the earnest contribution from Mrs. A.B. of Lima that it actually is, I shall now use a form of it here again in a context far removed from Mr. Mancini's work and world.
"Read yesterday's entry and LOVED it! What IS with NATO, anyway? Can't they afford to buy a clue?? Well, here's TWO for 'em, free of charge. Hannibal. Elephants. Enough said!" - Personal email message from Burt Bacharach
(All Material Not An Obvious
Rip-Off Of Some Other Aspect Of Western Civilization © 1999 by Dan
Birtcher)
