Ahhh...So Happy It’s Thursday™!
What, pray tell, is Elisson doing posting his Friday Random Ten on Thursday? You may well ask.
Tomorrow morning, as soon as I have dispensed with my morning minyan obligations, I will be headed off to the Baltimore (pronounced “Ballmer” by the locals) area for a training session - part of my preparation for assuming a leadership role in the Southeastern Region of the International Federation of Jewish Men’s Clubs.
Blogging over the next several days will be sporadic to nonexistent, alas.
The Missus will most likely use the Elisson-Free Weekend to run down to Savannah and visit the Mistress of Sarcasm. I am envious. My weekend will be filled with breakout sessions and presentations - as much as you can do over a weekend considering that writing on Shabbat is verboten. Her weekend will be filled with Mother-Daughter Fun.
But in the meantime, we have Choons to listen to, all lovingly selected in Random Sequence by the Little White Choon-Box d’Elisson...
What, pray tell, is Elisson doing posting his Friday Random Ten on Thursday? You may well ask.
Tomorrow morning, as soon as I have dispensed with my morning minyan obligations, I will be headed off to the Baltimore (pronounced “Ballmer” by the locals) area for a training session - part of my preparation for assuming a leadership role in the Southeastern Region of the International Federation of Jewish Men’s Clubs.
Blogging over the next several days will be sporadic to nonexistent, alas.
The Missus will most likely use the Elisson-Free Weekend to run down to Savannah and visit the Mistress of Sarcasm. I am envious. My weekend will be filled with breakout sessions and presentations - as much as you can do over a weekend considering that writing on Shabbat is verboten. Her weekend will be filled with Mother-Daughter Fun.
But in the meantime, we have Choons to listen to, all lovingly selected in Random Sequence by the Little White Choon-Box d’Elisson...
- Tapajos River - Philip Glass
- Fred Jones Part 2 - Ben Folds
Fred sits alone at his desk in the dark
There’s an awkward young shadow that waits in the hall
He’s cleared all his things and he’s put them in boxes
Things that remind him: “Life has been good”
Twenty-five years
He’s worked at the paper
A man’s here to take him downstairs
And I’m sorry, Mr. Jones
It’s time
There was no party, there were no songs
’Cause today’s just a day like the day that he started
No one is left here that knows his first name
And life barrels on like a runaway train
Where the passengers change
They don’t change anything
You get off; someone else can get on
And I’m sorry, Mr. Jones
It’s time
Streetlight shines through the shades
Casting lines on the floor, and lines on his face
He reflects on the day
Fred gets his paints out and goes to the basement
Projecting some slides onto a plain white
Canvas and traces it
Fills in the spaces
He turns off the slides, and it doesn’t look right
Yeah, and all of these bastards
Have taken his place
He’s forgotten but not yet gone
And I’m sorry, Mr. Jones
And I’m sorry, Mr. Jones
And I’m sorry, Mr. Jones
It’s time - The National Anthem - Radiohead
- Every Mother’s Son - Traffic
- No One Mourns The Wicked - Wicked, Original Cast Recording
- Toccata & Fugue in D Minor - Wendy Carlos, Switched-On Bach 2000
- Purpose - Avenue Q, Original Broadway Cast
- Bodhisattva - Steely Dan
- I Got A Line On You - Spirit
- Native Son - The Judybats
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