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06/05/97 - I've been out for a while moving and learning and am absolutely SWAMPED today. Egads. Stuff of note: Jeff Buckley is probably dead... I'm upset and will deal with the great musician's loss by listening to his work frequently. My phone (office) is broken... I will deal with the black plastic's loss by annoying everyone who calls with its inability to sustain a good connection... Well, I'll be a better writer tomorrow... I hope.
06/06/97 - I've been thinking about writing. Anyone can tell you something but few can make you forget you're listening or reading. Few can occupy your whole mind such that you're not constructing a grocery list or thinking of ways to get on to something more fun. Few transform your mind into a painter... a brilliant painter. It's not what is said but how that makes this diffence. I saw a flower. So? As sleep lost its grip on my head I gripped the steering wheel and shook slightly in the cool damp morning air. Since my car was not moving I noticed the clouds were. I laughed as the clumsy clouds knocked a hole in the sky and from the breach spilled a speck of sunlight. I was silenced in awe as a buttercup drank up the spill and shone with pride at its accomplishment. Better? I think so.
06/09/97 - Household tips from Lee. My dryer is probably quite similar to yours. It's a big white, boxy machine with a control panel, a door, a bin and a lint filter. So? Ahh, but I know the best way to get that nasty, clingy lint (that's always grey with red undertones no matter what color clothes you're drying) unbound from it's dwelling on the lint filter. Unlike cleaning a bathroom, you can't go to CVS and purchase a nice, chemically smelly bottle of X-14 Lint Scum Remover... wet lint is perhaps the nasty living thing on this planet; have you seen it sliver and ooze in the trash bucket after you accidentally drop a wet sock in there? Forget the sock... it's been eaten before you can react... not unlike that first scene in Jurassic Park with the velociraptor and the hapless worker. Ok, disgusting wet lint aside here's the best way to clean the lint filter: BEFORE you load the dryer (ie before you touch wet clothing) use an old dryer sheet to scrape the lint filter clean... DA Na! Pretty clever, eh?
06/10/97 - I noticed something today. I noticed that "DA Na" almost spells DNA, but not quite. That said, I move on to... well, my morning. I went to bed late last night. I stayed up late because a friend was driving through Richmond on his way to an interview in DC and needed crash space. I, being a good friend (and somewhat afraid to leave my house unlocked at night), fought off the urge to rest at my normal resting hour (10:15pm) and watched Pop Up Video on VH1 until Steve's car grumbled into my driveway (we just got new gravel so all vehicles "grumble" into the driveway). Quick house tour and I went to bed; I think I heard Sports Center on the TV for the minute it took me to pass out. Ok, I got up at 7am, donned (neato word) dirty clothes and came to work for 10 minutes (That's the swellest thing about living 1.5 miles from work). I went home, made coffee (Thanks, Carter; good beans), showered and whilst I showered the new refrigerator knocked on my door. Of course you realize I'm being poetic; Refrigerators are not capable of getting to my door as they have no will or self propulsion or even that with which to knock. But the delivery guys possess the necessary qualities so they did that which I attributed to the box they delivered. Since I'm nearing screen's end I'll wrap this up. Steve left to go interview; the 'fridge guys did their thing and I'm at work. Funny how these events are related yet vastly different. C'est La Vie.
06/11/97 - Beer. Last night I had beer. I don't drink beer. Beer messes up my system. Beer is about the same color as Winnie the Pooh. "Beer" almost spells "Bear"... strange coincidence or is a popular childhood icon actually an alcoholic beverage? For Pooh to be beer I think he must, at least partially, also be Jello. How could a mass of beer amble around a forest? Beer molds to its container's shape, but Jello, once chilled, holds its own shape. Pooh has a definite shape so Pooh must be a beer & Jello mixture. Green Jello turns things green. Red Jello turns things red. Raspberry Jello turns things blue. Pooh is none of these colors so Pooh must be made of Lemon Jello and beer. Beer and Lemon Jello are translucent. Pooh is not. Milk is not translucent. Pooh must be made of beer, lemon jello and milk. Ok, I guess it could be Elmer's Glue... And the illusion of fur is just dust and lint sticking to the big beer, lemon jello and milk (glue) mess... you can see how that would happen, right?
06/12/97 - Whoa, I'm late. I've been working constantly since 7:30a and have been unable to break free and write. But I'm taking an earned break to update my journal. My boss said I couldn't have any fun until I'd finished all my work and eaten my vegetables but I'm a devious person so I feigned fear to lull him into a false sense of trust then began writing and feed the turnip greens to my office dog. Ok, so I don't have a dog and I actually like turnip greens... especially with pepper, vinegar and bacon (what greens aren't better that way?) but I am shucking work for 10 minutes to write. My boss is not mean at all so I'll likely survive if he walks into my office while I'm not working. If I can get out the door I'm certain I can out run him so I have that on my side, too. Well, that's about 10 lines without a metaphor or simile or any of the things that make writing fun to read... bummer; perhaps I should have kept working.
06/13/97 - Want to see a funny picture? Ok, read this. There's this guy sitting in an office dressed like he should be sitting in an office except he isn't wearing a tie but, wearing a dark blue madras shirt, there are few ties he could wear without looking clownish. So, what makes this picture humorous is that his left pants leg is hiked up over his knee revealing a skinny, hairy, pale ankle sheathed in a pseudo flesh colored, patterned, khaki sock and topped off by a well worn dirty buck. With the bottom half of his leg revealed he's scratching furiously at a bug bite just above his knee. In my opinion, the funniest part is the way the colors and textures of the lower leg dance together... like skinny nerd boy and plump, quiet girl at the junior high school prom; Everyone, including the teachers, are snikkering, but no one says anything because it's obvious they're having fun.
06/16/97 - For all of you as (or more) technologically savvy as (than) I, please point your RealAudio equipped web browsers to:
http://www.logicalalt.com/stuff/sounds.htm
My band is broadcasting on the web. Ok, why is this special? Well, for one thing, this is a pretty honest slice of our sound. True, the guitar interplay is not quite as evident as I think it really is. And the sound is not "In Your Face!" but you can't see me looking at my feet instead of jumping around like a lunatic with a slab of wood hung from my neck. Ok, honest assessment... The sound is a touch cheap, but the band is tight, even through my mess ups (which are the only ones I've caught). I really don't know how we could have gotten a better sound from a room mic and the band is only going to get better. Come see us play... email me for details.
06/18/97 - Please excuse my absence from the web yesterday. I was so busy I didn't get the chance to compose... can you believe it? I made a discovery yesterday evening. My roommate invited friends over. I sat alone on the porch listening to music whilst they cavorted inside. I found myself able to relax completely. I figure I knew I wasn't missing anything. My friends were all in the house so I knew they weren't out stumbling across the world's most perfect bar or the best singer in the city or something else they'd tell me how unlucky I was to miss. Knowing they were just playing guitar and watching baseball I could sit alone and consider serious things of which I retained no memory... perhaps my relaxation technique could use some improvment. Perhaps I shouldn't base my happiness on others... complexity... hmmm.
06/24/97 - I'm back from a vacation more needed and better and more perfect than I'm able, with wordsmithery, to describe. A wedding was the vacation's kernel. A wedding of vast importance to me because, with said wedding, a friend with whom I've suffered and celebrated is now unable to suffer and celebrate with me as freely as he was before. Still, I'm happy. The wedding folks were wed in Covington, GA. My favorite Covington fact is Sherman spared the private homes on his march to the sea because his freshman roommate at West Point was raised in the quiet town. Ok, aside from wedding events and my friends attending the wedding I also was afforded the opportunity to sit on a porch in the VA Highlands (an Atlanta neighborhood) and sip margaritas with another friend (and his friend). This event was made the more momentous with the addition of a Nerf Football. I have no photographs of this event but the soreness attached to my body's right side is ample memory aid for now. The vacation's last event was a breakfast on the road home in the company of a friend with whom I spend too little time.
06/25/97 - I drove to my parent's house last night and passed the pool at which I swam swim team. We had meets every tuesday night and, last night, for a short second, I remembered how those meets made me feel. I remember the cast of the afternoon sun and the tree under which my teammates and I vied for the best spots to place our towels (the tree is now gone). I remember competition's nervousness. I remember the tiny little suits we wore and the unwillingness to remove the shorts I wore atop until I heard the starter yell "On your marks!". I remember the macaroni and cheese I'd eat every week before the meet; the taste, to this day, brings back memories of summer tuesdays. I remember the strange look of the pool when the sun had set and the pool, lit from underwater, became a glowing thing slightly feared. I remember the relays; screaming and yelling for my teammates and swimming until I thought my lungs would explode (it's strange how air's absence manifests itself as a pressure). And I remember getting back home and stepping into the air conditioned house, its coldness providing the evening's resolution.
06/26/97 - I snared myself. The thing about myself that bothers me the most is I'm a weak willed person. I find something I like and I'm absorbed against my own better judgement. This weakness manifests itself frequently... for example, let's take the last 12... a harmless enough period in time. I'm reading John Steinbeck's East of Eden. I got home late last night and I knew I needed sleep but I decided to read anyhow. And I read right past my bed time. So I slept late this morning. When I arose my roommate had the bathroom. So I read. The bathroom was free, but I read. Egads! How can I free myself of a weak mind? Should I practice self deprivation? Seems a bit extreme and wasteful; Life is limited to a string of "now"s and I want my now to be as happy as possible. I guess I'll just try harder to be the me I should be.
06/27/97 - Two funny incidents. Working chronologically backwards... several minutes ago I got out of my car and walked toward the building. I smelled the wet parking lot. I noticed how the clouds forbade the sky to reveal the time... it could be 7:30am or 3pm... who knows? Then I looked down and noticed my zipper was not in it's upright and secure position. Eek! Do I fix it right here? If I bumble and someone is watching I'll look like a complete fool, but it someone catches the toothy medal glint I'll look like a complete fool... hmm, almost a catch 22. I grabbed my belt hitch and yanked up pulling the fabric into alignment then walked quickly for the building's entrance. When safely inside and certainly free from company I righted the situation. Incident two: In the calmish interval between southern summer storms I went running. The storm cooled air and cottony sky made for better running conditions than we've had in a LONG time... I was pushing a quick pace. I crossed an intersection and bounded onto the sidewalk ambushing a chipmonk and trapping him between a brick wall and me. His path to freedom lay ahead of me. The chipmonk bolted down the sidewalk and matched my pace staying 3 feet in front of me. I swung slightly toward the sidewalk's street side edge in case the bugger decided he'd fight my feet instead of fleeing. After about 10 seconds of this strange run the chipmonk found a breach in the brick and escaped.
06/30/97 - And here I am on a typical work day dressed in my typical short sleeved, tieless, khaki legged work outfit. I've shuffled through the door as I do every weekday. I've sat down in the same green chair with the tiny scuff on the left arm that identifies it as my typical butt and back rest. I've pushed my floor bound CPU's power button and listened to the same sounds as it whirs to life and responded as I always do when it says, in its own way, "Is that you Lee?" I stare blindly as Dave Matthews greets my ears. I can feel the strange pull in my upper lip of the completely relaxed face. I'm disturbed that I've inherited my Mom's relaxed scowl... I guess it would be better if my resting face showed a smile but perhaps everyone is like this. Mom and Dad have a portrait of my Mom's great grandparents taken somewhere between the Civil War and the century's turn... they had to sit, relaxed, while the camera did its thing... they're not smiling. Older, prolonged exposure pictures rarely show happy looking people... It's too bad, realy, that the default face can't be more elated. But that's a new thought for me so perhaps today will be an atypically good day.