I wonder if the true measure of good music for us, personally, is that which describes or accompanies particularly well whatever we’re experiencing at a given period of our life, even more than the actual artistic merits of the music… I guess that’s a given. Granted, there is some music that is just good music, but even that, which could be appreciated on its own terms, gains more depth as we go through experiences which mirror a particular song’s emotional core… And we relive the songs years later, breathing color back into our sometimes faded memories.
Listening to the first few songs of The Joshua Tree on the stereo… It’s amazing. The soundscape is just larger than life, to the point where I don’t realize anymore that I’m listening to U2, or even a band, just…the music, the organ, Edge’s quickly picked guitar and Bono’s voice swirling around each other into the distance, and leveling out like a horizon in my mind just before the sounds trail off.
Made chicken fajitas earlier–they came out quite well, albeit spicy, between the sauce I used and the salsa on the tortilla shell when everything was assembled… I had two and a half–there was just enough meat. If John hadn’t drunk all the milk I wouldn’t have noticed the spiciness as much. But that’s what late night shopping trips to HT are for. Thank goodness for stores that are open 24/7.
I had to come home over lunch today since my car, which I changed the oil in yesterday, was hemorrhaging all over the pavement, leaving little oily offerings/marking its territory wherever we went. I had forgot to put the oil drain plug gasket on after it had fallen off, and really didn’t feel like draining all the oil back out again last night just to replace the gasket. Mistake. At least I still had the gasket, which I found as we were pouring the old oil back into the bottles yesterday. It would have been easier if I my car wasn’t lowered since last weekend–the floor jack barely fits underneath the side sill. Draining hot oil from the pan in the middle of the day in my work clothes wasn’t fun, though. Made me feel a bit medieval (“Pour the hot oil from the ramparts!”), but my clothes came through unsoiled thanks to the magic of the Sunday newspaper spread on on the ground. Yeah, we’re good.
“If John hadn’t drunk all the milk “
uhh.. hmm.. should this be drank all the milk? haha. good gosh it’s been a long time since i’ve looked at LJ.
Umm… I think it’s drunk. Unless I’m terribly confused, which is entirely possible.
Yes, update, update! Dooooo it :o)