The cottonwood started falling and now it feels like we’re in a snow globe that won’t stop. Charlotte and I went to the aquarium and looked at the octopus, its sheep eyes, the valves where the cheeks would be, opening and closing in slow motion. I bought her a book about mermaids and we sat watching deaf tourists sign to one another, people taking selfies with scuba divers in the background waving. The deep-sea coral, the spotted lagoon jelly. It was only 10:30 and we were ready to go, both of us sleepy. We took the 99 south to Royal Brougham and I pointed out the building where I used to work, the Starbucks, the mermaid painted on the parking deck. And then we parked and walked to the bakery, and I said she could get whatever she wanted so she did, and we sat in the corner killing time, watching people with their newspapers. And then we drove to the Silver Platter record store and I asked the effeminate cashier if they had the new, nine-disc Brian Eno collection and he lit up, ‘why let me check…,’ and we talked and talked and talked while Charlotte used the bathroom, and it was $249 but I bought it anyway. Limited edition, collectible. Sixty-four page, color book. The cottonwood started, angled sideways; I redeemed my code for the digital download and sat with my laptop by the grill out back with Eno and the birds, a woodpecker, me swinging in the hammock, nodding off, knowing when I woke it would be time to catch a Lyft to the Roanoke, to meet Walt Walker.
Yes.
Just Yes.
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Dig that, and say no more. I knew you’d be proud!
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Immensely. And more than a little envious.
All I know is that Grooveland (Berlin) has my money.
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There was a batch of 95 limited edition pressings in the US for more money I might have gone for had they had one. But I’m happy with what I got. And looking forward to listening to in multiple, dynamic settings so to speak.
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Yeah. It’s funny how desire, greed, excitement and anticipation combine with these multi-version mega-releases.
I have an old 5-disc player in the family room. Maybe I’ll fill it with Eno and press random and commune with you across the ocean.
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Do. God, I could drown in it. Pig, mud/shit analogy.
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You have reached maximum ambience …
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I’m stewing in it now. A new kind of Sunday morning, with clouds.
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So that’s what I was driving through, cottonwood! I wanted to turn on the wipers, it did feel snow globey.
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They’re faeries, displaced souls.
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Thank you for not telling me until now, that would have kept me up.
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They gather on the roadside shoulders and share cigarettes. Hey I listened to Dark Side last night on vinyl to commemorate our meeting! Well, just side 1. Couldn’t stand the jarring nature of Money.
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Well done! Money gets a bad rap, as far as songs go. I like it. It’s one of the few rock numbers featuring a sax that I won’t throw a penalty flag on.
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Well you have a suitably somber morning weather-wise for your journey. You see why I am the way I am? Stick around long enough you’ll start writing more poetry.
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That sounds like quite the day. (Sneezy cottonwood not withstanding!)
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I know right! I love the cottonwood, fortunately it’s just the pollen that gets me and I think we’re past that. Likely full-on AC weather now in your parts!
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It’s these lazy days that will resonate with her in the future. Grand schemes are important but the zen of killing time in an unplanned manner is where the rubber meets the road.
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I know, I hope. I get some damn sentimental about these things. Don’t spend enough time together. Hey, I bought this Eno box set on his art installations and thought of you; think you’d love the premise and the book that comes with it, that describes all the art things he did. Remarkable.
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Tragically, I don’t have a turntable anymore. I think I threw it off the Brooklyn Bridge on my way out when I relocated to New Jersey.
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I hope that clerk gets a commission.
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He should!
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