This came from fooling around with multi-tracked mountain dulcimer and super-processed trombone. Don't not try this at home. In fact only try this at home. Somewhere along the way I also got a bass amp and that helped.
I took 71 to work yesterday, it was super fast and I did not miss traffic on 39th, at all. I'm farther away but it is about the same commute time: 20 minutes. I get a nice view of downtown going 71 to 670 to 35, too. I took a longish walk on campus last night and it is beautiful over there, what a great place to run and walk the dog. I had a weird feeling of being at home there and wanted to look into continuing education classes just from being in that environment.
I haven't bought a record in some time and this is nagging at me, like I haven't visited an elderly relative in the hospital. I am looking forward to a good browse somewhere. I would like to get rid of a bunch of stuff. When I look at the pile of gear I moved and office things, I see a bunch of beatdown junk. I mean, if you are working or active musician, your shit looks a pile of beatdown junk, so that's not THAT big of a deal.
I really want a mocha master coffee maker because I think the ones at work make really good coffee and I am tired of the coffee ritual in the morning, I'd rather have that extra twenty minutes to write. I wonder if it is actually possible that a machine could make good coffee at home. I would like that.
I had a scary dream last night about a diabolical character who was a police detective. I met with him on a case, in a junior colleague kind of way. He was an intimidating European, maybe Scottish, very intelligent and intense, tall and kind of lanky and handsome. Our meeting was over dinner and I remember feeling like a nuisance or an irritation, and I remember something about a soggy sponge or brillo pad used to clean up a spill or something on the table.
It turned out later that this detective had murdered many people and perfected a way of slowly disposing the bodies that involved chemicals and storage and off-gassing in neutral way. I'm not sure who discovered this, but it was another older colleague, and I was still somewhat to the side of it, yet had shared a meal with the criminal and felt in some way that my intuition was moving me in the right direction, I just wasn't aware of it.
It's weird what dreams can signify--weird in the ancient sense of the word. I've always tried to intuit crime-related dreams as the energy of coming up against personal rules or structures. I.E. if you feel criminal energy in your dreams or whatever, you might be up against breaking your own rules, represented by the rule of law or morality in your dreams.
Well, that was the best baseball game I have ever seen while rooting for The Royals and having it come out in our favor. I mean, it was some kind of crazy miracle game, with this ridiculous inevitability that came after getting down four runs. I watched it over at Scot's house with the neighborhood dudes, Joe, Dan, Dave, Frank, and Gabe, it was really a grand time. We set off fireworks at midnight. It was crazy. The Royals aren't just a wildcard playoff team, they are officially an American League division series playoff team.