I didn’t realize it till the words came out of my mouth when asked awhile ago, but fall truly is my favorite season of the year. The colors of the trees, the cold nights and warm days, the occasional sweater, the occasional waft of wood smoke, jack-o-lanterns, the rediscovery of scarves, and most of all, that smell when you walk out of your door in the morning. You know that smell: dried leaves, chilly contracting earth…something a little nutty in the air. You know what I’m talking about. And best of all, the fallen leaves have covered up the manure pile. Hooray!
Another reason to celebrate: after many, many weeks, I’ve listened to every single cd in my collection, straight through in order. Why would I do this? Because, friends, I’m a music junkie, and I’d lost track of what I own. 300-odd cds later, a conclusion: I’ve got too much crap. But the occasional gem does wink from the ranks. This morning, here’s what resides in my case:
Janis Joplin, “18 Essential Songs”
Ani DiFranco, “Revelling/Reckoning”
No Doubt, “Return of Saturn”
Jeff Buckley, “Grace”
Indigo Girls, “Rites of Passage” (Chickenman! Chickenman! Just for you, Jack…)
Coldplay, “Parachutes”
Afro Celt Sound System, “Vol. 3, Further in Time”
Listen to ’em all, people, and thank me later.
Moving crabwise into the work day, I got into the office early and blew bubbles around the room. They’re a special kind of bubble that won’t pop for a few hours. You’ve never seen a more bemused group of people than my coworkers, bless them. Folks should expect bubbles.
Bubbles and music and leaves and a dinner party later…it just might be a good day.
A Sober Note:
Breathe a prayer today for my friend Berkeley Brandt (older brother to Christina Brandt-Young), who had a stroke last Friday and has undergone brain surgery, and although stable is still in critical condition. He’s in Riverside Hospital in Newport News, VA, with his entire family at his side. He’s 30. I don’t think his family has slept since Friday.