Friday, November 14, 2008


It’s Friday - the Sixth Day - which means it’s when
I go to post my Friday Random Ten.
A dozen tunes (less two) from my iPod
All chosen by the Mystic Hand o’ God.
(A question that won’t be, today, resolved,
Is just
how much the Big Guy gets involved.)

Yes, it is Friday, and for once the Missus and I are looking forward to a relatively quiet weekend at home.

Elder Daughter is back home in Washington, D.C., while the Mistress of Sarcasm and Gilad are off to visit his mother and stepdad in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

The Missus and I have been to Ann Arbor. It was, in fact, thirty years ago this month, when Elder Daughter was newly evident as a just-noticeable rounding of SWMBO’s belly. My souvenir of that visit was a hardbound first edition of John Irving’s landmark novel The World According To Garp, of which I had previously read two chapters that had been published in Playboy magazine. Based on those two dimly-remembered chapters, I fully expected the novel to be brilliant... and I was not disappointed.

But now it’s time to see what the ol’ iPod d’Elisson has on its little electronic brain. What’s on?
  1. A Day In The Life - The Beatles

    Possibly the finest pop song of all time... a mini-symphony. I still remember hearing it for the first time on June 1, 1967 and thinking, “WTF is this? Whatever it is, it’s amazing!”

  2. It’s Hard To Be A Saint In The City - Bruce Springsteen

  3. Kyyhylly - Alamaailman Vasarat

  4. Words Of Love - The Beatles

  5. Un Grand Sommeil Noir - Edgard Varèse

  6. (Down With) The Sickness - Richard Cheese

  7. Turn On Me - The Shins

  8. The Blimp (mousetrapreplica) - Captain Beefheart

  9. One Way Out - The Allman Brothers

  10. It’s Ice - Phish

    I press on the elastic sheet, I’m breathing through a slice
    “Are they worms or are they serpents?” bubbles through the ice
    The source was quite invisible, the ever-present voice
    While skating, both legs tracing different shapes, I made my choice

    Mimicking the image in whose radiance I bask
    I’m tied to him, or him to me, depending who you ask
    None the less reluctantly reflections tumble in
    I slide with all the other on the wrong side of the skin

    He’s fallen on the ice, it cracks
    Will he plunge in and join me here?
    He meets my eyes, to my surprise
    He laughs in full light of my frown
    My double wants to pull me down

    Slipping on the friction slide, my skin peels to the bone
    The flesh I leave behind, is something that is not my own
    I beg my mirror image for a moment with my soul
    He’s leaning back, time to attack, IT’S ME who’s in control

    And every move I make he’s got a hand up just in time
    He’s throwing several punches, and he’s blocking most of mine
    Defeated now, I sulk and squirm in mud with frozen mice
    Waiting, calculating till NEXT he ventures on the ice.

It’s Friday. What are you listening to?

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