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this morning, the only light source seems to be coming from this monitor... outside, the dull, steel-grey heavens promise nothing more than chill and moisture... and boredom, animated. before i force myself into the shower, and onto streets that sound like fabric being ripped under cold rubber, i want to remember some good things... not something that this journal has been particularly well-suited to, as of late. i would include "uninspired" to the list of possible descriptions. my crisis of faith with radio and station heirarchy and the i-me-mine state of music almost made me walk away from something that forms one of the building blocks in my foundation. suspiciously, i returned, three weeks ago... still feeling the walls unsteady. i forgot about what it feels like to know that the same, thick, melodic bassline that winds my waistline is affecting others' waistlines, with the selection of a button and the power of FM waves. the studio telephone, especially... and the people on the other side. easy to forget the affect and effect and the reaction of those who are really listening and also hear message in the music. case in point: third week back, finally doing the show as intended... without breaks for pledge-begging song-and-dance. this new guy was in the library, as i was digging for a request... asking involved questions about dub as i passed. he mentioned "night nurse" by GregoryIsaacs... so i glided back behind the console, going through my mental rolodex. a few minutes later came a request, for the same song. hmmm. half-hour later, a fellow selector rang... we caught up, exchanged mutual musical appreciation, and he closed with a mention of Jackie (who used to sub for me). "She want's to know if there's time for one more request." "night nurse." oh, yes. how was i not going to play that one? this is a good thing. another, the wedding of a musician-friend... whom i met through my BassmanBuddy, killed, last year. strange gravity remains. ironic, attending someone else's commitment... when my own is at a nadir. suspicions-accusations-damnations-generalisations-hysteria-childishness-selfishnes-clinicalfrigidity. had there been somewhere else to go, i'd have gone. and not looked back... or else turned into a pillar of hypocracy. but, these waters less turgid, we drove deep into the ShenanoahValley for the service. flanked by dull saw-toothed hills in medium Cerulian. stereotypical mountain streams... shallow, impatient, only slightly obscuring every rounded rock that ornamented the channel. then, after a twisting climb, the festivities. a creative, musicial, open-minded company of relative strangers... soon strangers no more. forgotten faces and voices and instruments and conversations. and quite a flirt, unexpectedly. across the way from the altar, there was this:
so, i start to notice better things, again. that they can be, if one inclines the mind. which is why i'm keeping my back to the window, right now. |
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