Music of the Day: Bill Sharpe, Hypnotique

It was down the mountain and back yesterday to retrieve My Lovely Bride (MLB) from our airport after her extended travels around many western portions of our great nation. From all reports she had a good time visiting with assorted members of her family; also on the positive side, our frequent phone calls to and from one another disclosed no coughing or hacking or respiratory difficulties on her part. Given the scope of her travel, the hours in various vehicles, and the exposure to who-knows-what sort of bizarre pathogens in the ether in airplanes, restaurants, hotels, etcetera, this is excellent news.

For me, the road trip portion was about 4.5 hours in the car, contending with big-city traffic, truly mad drivers in gigantic souped-up trucks, brain-sizzling heat, and an airport layout that was designed, I believe, by a one-eyed schizophrenic with sadistic tendencies. Getting into and out of our closest major airport requires the patience of Job, the right foot of Richard Petty, the alertness of a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs, and a head full of Prozac or some other mood-altering substance. The signage is nearly incomprehensible, pedestrians seem to be completely oblivious to vehicular traffic, the police appear to ignore all but the bloodiest and most egregious of crimes, and the cost of parking for an hour or two requires a co-signer for a loan. On the positive side, it’s always nice to drive back up the mountain, to the cooler air, and to a place where many people drive at, or slightly below, the speed limit (although this can make one crazy if one follows eight or nine of these people around town for more than a few blocks).

On the most positive side, it is nice to have MLB back home—Max the Wonder Dog has grown tired of my constant mutterings to myself and he misses his “Mom” when she’s gone. That makes two of us. . . .

AJ

TO LIVE IN FREEDOM’S LIGHT IS THE RIGHT OF MANKIND.