Besides the obvious issues of energy and cost, planning 28-days of original activities requires an extra amount of prioritization and logistics management. Some days there are multiple things I’d like to try, and others I’m really at a loss for ideas.
This Sunday morning I woke up, having already planned on participating in something specific. It’d been on my calendar for most of the week. So the first thing I did when I stumbled out of bed, was to double-check the website again to make sure I had all the times and info right… and of course, I find out it’d been cancelled. Apparently a bunch of men-in-tights were taking over the recreation area I needed and kicking everyone else out for the day. Rats. That means I’ll have to try and squeeze it in on a different weekend, which means I might have to drop or rearrange something else.
On the other hand, it’s probably good that it was cancelled. My brain really wanted to go, but the rest of my body?
I don’t know if I climbed into the derby rink last night, blacked out, and was used as someone’s helmet, but man if I didn’t feel like I had been run over by a dozen skaters.
“Okay,” I think. “I’ll just peruse through my list of ‘maybe’ activities and pick something else for today. Something that won’t be too taxing.”
Sooo…. how about a walk through an unusual park?
I’m pretty sure it’d require me to get up, leave the house, and exert at least a modicum of energy.
Alright… how about trying some new food? That’s reasonably quick and easy. You’ve got to eat, right?
Come on, for this I’d not only have to get up, but shower and presumably not resemble a hobo. And then I’d have to interact with an actress/waitress for at least a few minutes.
Any other bright ideas, Einstein?
Okay, okay. Get this. Listen to an album of music you’ve never heard before. Something that pretty much the rest of Universe has managed to hear. Something on one of those top 10 or top 100 lists or something.
Jesus, do I have to do everything for you? Just. Pick. Something. Before. You. Drive. Me. Completely. Insane.
Wait, wait, wait… wait a minute. You’re telling me you’ve never listened to Pink Floyd before?
Well, not knowingly, at least.
And you’re not one of those shallow, self-centered, out-of-touch grizzly bears people keep talking about?
I’m… I’m not sure that that’s actually a thing…
But, didn’t you go to college? Actually, multiple colleges? For music? For like, elebenty years and a tetrasquadron full of student loans?
Don’t you have to constantly remind people about how you’re the master of all creatively-created sound and the only thing holding you back from true, recognizable greatness is that the Reticulans have been scurrying everyone else on the planet away at night to perform secret, psychological experiments that directly prevent them from acknowledging your undeniable octopiousness.
Uh, brain? I think… something might be malfunctioning a little bit up there.
Oh, sure. Try and turn this back around on me. The Id and I are trying to have a little fun over here, and get a look at Ms. “I heart contemporary classical music” get all up on her high-horse and try to stample all over our space-parade.
Tell me, did you even like any of it?
Well, yeah. I think that the more abstract constructions and soundscapes, the songs that weren’t trying too hard to be “songs”, were really some of the best parts.
So, you did like it, then.
I didn’t dislike it. A few of the tracks were pretty standard psychedelic rock. But, come on, you knew I was going to say that anyway. You and I both know that some of the early composers of electronic music, dating back to the late 1940’s even, created weirder, more out-there stuff than this.
Ah geez… here she goes again. Can’t we have one damn conversation where you don’t bring up the great masters of blah blah blah blah classical did it first?
Well, you’re up there in my brain. What do you think?
You know, you’re really starting to get on my nerves.
Yeah…. you and me both, brain. You and me both.
Lesson of the day: Don’t talk to yourself about music. It never ends well.