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Truncated Sunday
Woke at 6:15 from a nightmare about Japan, that really was about Japan and not the imaginary Japan I usually dream of, and thus was able to turn my clock forward an hour and still be up early.
The thing about March snow is that it's *March* snow, id est it must contend with March sun. This is generally no contest. As was proved last week. Last Sunday I walked out in shoes. Last Tuesday snow fell in quantity. Last Wednesday the sidewalks were clear and in many cases dry. Thus yesterday's 36 hour snowfall that had the local papers screaming about 30 centimetres and the worst to come last night!!! a) wasn't 30 cm here b) stopped early last night and c) has vanished entirely from sidewalks shovelled this morning.
Someone else-I suspect the next-door older bro- did my sidewalk; I contented myself playing Ling Gufu slaying the enemies of Yue at the street corners and the tits on a bull's corner place that I regularly clear. Not all of it: I grow old, and no doubt tomorrow it'll be slush or ice or both as I trudge to work. Came back and looked at my current reading, the Hambly of which has dropped anvil-sized hints about the Horrible Things that will happen to a nice young character, and said the hell with it, I'm reading Judge Dee. Judge Dee is one of life's regular reliable pleasures. It belongs to that easy cosmopolitan European way of doing things that I wish we had more of over here, and proves that one can indeed write from outside another culture without having people inside it turn puce: but only, I suspect, if you read your sources in the original.
And I shall ignore that certain person on people's FLs maintaining that it's only Gen X-ers like herself who truly appreciate Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, while Boomers like me are still stuck at Suzanne. Suzanne. Four decades ago Suzanne. If this is true, then Canadians really and truly are different from Yanks, and not just because we can marry who we please.
The thing about March snow is that it's *March* snow, id est it must contend with March sun. This is generally no contest. As was proved last week. Last Sunday I walked out in shoes. Last Tuesday snow fell in quantity. Last Wednesday the sidewalks were clear and in many cases dry. Thus yesterday's 36 hour snowfall that had the local papers screaming about 30 centimetres and the worst to come last night!!! a) wasn't 30 cm here b) stopped early last night and c) has vanished entirely from sidewalks shovelled this morning.
Someone else-I suspect the next-door older bro- did my sidewalk; I contented myself playing Ling Gufu slaying the enemies of Yue at the street corners and the tits on a bull's corner place that I regularly clear. Not all of it: I grow old, and no doubt tomorrow it'll be slush or ice or both as I trudge to work. Came back and looked at my current reading, the Hambly of which has dropped anvil-sized hints about the Horrible Things that will happen to a nice young character, and said the hell with it, I'm reading Judge Dee. Judge Dee is one of life's regular reliable pleasures. It belongs to that easy cosmopolitan European way of doing things that I wish we had more of over here, and proves that one can indeed write from outside another culture without having people inside it turn puce: but only, I suspect, if you read your sources in the original.
And I shall ignore that certain person on people's FLs maintaining that it's only Gen X-ers like herself who truly appreciate Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, while Boomers like me are still stuck at Suzanne. Suzanne. Four decades ago Suzanne. If this is true, then Canadians really and truly are different from Yanks, and not just because we can marry who we please.
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And I shall ignore that certain person on people's FLs maintaining that it's only Gen X-ers like herself who truly appreciate Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, while Boomers like me are still stuck at Suzanne
What does that even mean? XD; That Boomers have purportedly never heard any Leonard Cohen past the first album? That is so weird.
(Supposedly he is less popular in the States than everywhere else, though. And I'm starting to feel about "Hallelujah" like Doors fans feel about "Light My Fire", KURSE U JEFF BUCKLEY. ...But the really influential album is Death of a Ladies' Man, the wack eighties one with Phil Spector. People generally don't rip off the rest pcq you'd just end up sounding like Leonard Cohen. But a good chunk of indiepop today wouldn't exist without DoaLM. Sorry for the random rant am waiting for tour announcement so it's on my mind!)
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What does that even mean? XD
You tell me. (http://matociquala.livejournal.com/1334135.html)
"Cohen is not sincere. Cohen is yanking your chain, and that's a trick more commonly employed by people my age. (J note: mid-30s, and don't get me started on that line.)... So I would guess that that is a contributing factor in why metric tons of musicians (and music fans) in Gen X and Gen Y are obsessed with "Hallelujah," while our older compatriots prefer "Suzanne." Which is a perfectly nice song, don't get me wrong, but by contrast, you should hear my twenty-something friends talk about "Famous Blue Raincoat" and how they are trying to write stories around it."
Gah. Just gah.
She may have one point: my serious Cohen listening stopped at Various Positions 20 years ago. Couldn't make anything of DoaLM (mind you, first listened to it on a tape on an airplane, which doesn't help.) OTOH I am not a music person, I can go for weeks without having any music on, and my tastes aren't typical of anyone. But I *so* do not think earliest!Cohen is the only!Cohen, and one thing I do listen to regularly is Various Positions.
(Oh, and wiki to the rescue: "Cohen's label Columbia Records refused to release Various Positions in the United States. It was subsequently picked up by the independent label Passport Records. The album was finally included in the catalogue in 1990 when Columbia released the Cohen discography on compact disc." Is why people of her citizenic persuasion weren't going gaga about it six years earlier the way we did up here.)