Among the fallen mulberries. It’s a fruitful year.
The cherries are done, but the mulberries are coming in by the gazillions!
But don’t eat the ones that fall on the ground, they look too much like the bunny poop under the bushes.
A few recent things have got me thinking about records. You know, “albums”, the thirty three and a third long playing things of our youth. First, Kari introduced me to “The story of stuff“, which I found extremely interesting. However, Annie Leonard opens with an iPod, and I started thinking that actually music takes up very little space compared to the way we used to buy it. Then Lynn posted about filling her iPod, and got me thinking about albums even more. I admit, it’s great to carry huge volumes of music around on a tiny plastic square, but boy, I miss those album covers. I’ve loved them and pored over the liner notes since I was first buying music by this band:
Though Herman wasn’t the best for cover art, he was the “boy band” music of my childhood.
The Velvet Underground & Nico, produced by Andy Warhol. Everyone who knows me knows this is my absolute desert island pick. This has been on the top of my list since it came out in 1967. I was turning twelve that year, and I am eternally grateful to my mother for letting me listen to music about drugs and kinky sex in my room. This is a Japanese pressing, with the banana sticker still in place. I peeled the sticker off the first one, and played the hell out of it, until it had to be replaced. (I was very nervous about peeling the banana sticker when I first got it, but of course, there’s a photo of a peeled banana under the sticker. Very Warhol.) Needless to say, I also have it on cd.
This is another one I’ve listened to over and over again. Blood, Sweat and Tears, Child is Father to the Man. The photo has each member of the band holding a child, with the band member’s face. Very creepy at the time.
Ah, the Rolling Stones. Remember this one? It’s got that plastic 3-d cover, like those cheap Jesus pictures. Depending on the angle, Mick’s hands are together or apart, Brian is looking at you or has his head turned, etc. Very cool. The inside is wonderful, too.
Looking for sweet soul music, give me Solomon!
A member of the Velvet’s strikes out on his own. Don’t you love the photo?
I’m a sucker for black and white photos, just like black and white movies. They say so much more. I love the cover of the Tom Waits, I think the image is astounding. And Lucinda. These two albums are full of heart and soul, two folks with very unique voices.
Siegel-Schwall, my introduction to blues. My sister bought this album in 1967, she’s a genius. I’m still in love with Jim Schwall.
Well, that’s just a brief tour of some of the music that made me what I am today. Scary, huh?
Mark has been after me to make a book for us to keep our concert ticket stubs. I finally got it made, it’s 6×6, I’m real happy because it’s only about a third full. That’s a lot of music we get to go see to fill it up!
Some of our favorites.
This is the second time I saw the Stones, the first time was with my sister at Cobo Hall in the late ’60’s. We paid $6.50 a ticket, and that was for the good seats! Wish I’d have kept that stub!
Raul Malo signed it!!
Back of the book.
Yesterday Mark and I drove all over the countryside picking up radios. Mark found out about two gentlemen getting rid of radios, so we wound up with seven consoles in the back of the big van. We made a stop at a little neighborhood soul food take-out called Irene’s at Livernois and Eight Mile Road, good food. Next to the place was a bridal shop, I wasn’t paying attention until I saw a very pretty wedding dress in the window. It was unusual in that it faded to a silvery grey. I took pictures, but I had to put the camera against the window to eliminate glare, so you get the top half then the bottom half.
I commented to Mark that I thought it was pretty, he commented back that didn’t I notice the place had burned and the dress is covered in soot. My great powers of observation strike again.
I also finally got to go to Dragonmead, the brewery on Eleven Mile Road in Warren. They had so many interesting beers, I couldn’t begin to pick, I asked the server to make me up a nice flight of darker beers, stouts and porters, which she did. It was quite wonderful, I was especially taken with the 90 Shilling and the Imperial Stout. The server told me if I liked the 90 Shilling, I’d like their Under the Kilt, which they bottle, I will have to watch for it. Anyway, it inspired a silly drawing of a dragon out of me.
I woke up this morning to find Myrtle, my polyester turtle, holding my camera and Smitty, the former cat toy, posing. When I looked on the camera, there were pictures of Smitty.
I suspect it’s going to be a weird day.
Among the falling and rotting cherries. Yesterday we picked more, then we had our friends Eric, Jenna, Leslyn and Ron come over and pick cherries. Then we hung out at Eric and Jenna’s, they have a cool new gazebo. The cherry mold is taking over, but there’s still good ones. I’m getting tired of cherries.
Too many cherries.
Where I Stand Sunday is an ongoing photo essay examining the different places Lynn Krawczyk spends her life standing. Too often we take for granted the everyday places we spend our lives walking on. If youâ€™d like to join her by posting a photo on Sunday of places youâ€™ve been on your blog/photo hosting site/website, leave a comment on her Sunday posts telling her where she can find you/your photo and sheâ€™ll add a link to her sidebar so others can find you. I am one of those that Lynn has badgered into joining her, I have changed it to â€œwhere I stoodâ€, because right now Iâ€™m sitting in front of the computer, not standing anywhere.
Today I received an open email from Lynn asking if the Dixieland Flea Market is worth stopping at, since she drives right by it. I’m not sure how to answer. I know I would stop in, I love flea markets. It a lot of cheap foreign-made junk, and there’s not the vintage clothing and booksellers there used to be, but I love looking at all the stuff, and I always find something. The people watching alone is always strange and interesting. Anyway, her question reminded me of one of Mark and my first dates. We went to the now defunct Ypsi flea market. As we were walking up to the front door, we had to walk around a huge Harley trike that was parked in the way. It was tricked out and had gathered a crowd. As I walked up to it, I slowed, then stopped to check it out, and turned to say something to Mark like “Sweet, huh?”. Mark was gone. A quick scan of the area and I found him entering the flea market. I ran up beside him and asked “Didn’t you see the trike parked out there!?” “Uh, yeah” he answered. This was a huge first in my dating career. A man who doesn’t stop to look at and lust for motorcycles. It turns out he has no interest in them whatsoever. I’ve dated men who wanted them, and men who owned them, but no interest at all? Wow, this was an all together different sort of creature. he still is, he still surprises me.
Two new rubber stamps.
And I forgot to take those stupid cherries with me Tuesday night. So, I’ve made mediocre cherry cobbler and not quite sweet enough cherry pie filling, the pie filling is in the freezer for another time. The cherry mold is now taking hold of the tree, we are waving the white flag.
I no longer walk the streets of Old Village carrying trees. Now I carry cat litter buckets. Don’t worry, they are not full of cat litter. Who would do that? They are full of, uh, rabbit poop. There’s a rabbit rescue near our house, and they give out rabbit poop, and rabbit poop is wonderful fertilizer, so I’m hauling around bunny poop these days.
My life these days, aren’t you envious?
Off our tree, wrapped up, ready to go to Jane and mom.