Welcome to day two of my gimmicky posts, a/k/a Day 2 of a 30-day song challenge ripped straight from google images. I have a hell of a day ahead of me, so let’s get right to it.
Day 2: A song you like with a number in the title
Today’s theme was a bit more difficult for me to narrow down into one selection. But I ultimately decided on Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds”. It’s just what the doctor ordered to set an intentionally positive tone for my day. And hopefully for yours as well. Enjoy, “because every little thing is gonna be alright”.
Guess who’s back. Back again. (Yes, I stole lyrics from a lyrically weak song as an opener to a post about songs. I told you. I’m out of material. Wordless.)
Since I haven’t quite figured out what to say and whether I want to say anything (which I must kinda wanna or I wouldn’t have hacked my own account to get back in just to say I’m wordless), I’ve decided to use a gimmick in hopes I can trick myself into having a compelling reason to post every day for a solid month. Those of you who know me know that this is still unlikely to work, but it’s worth a shot. And maybe, just maybe, this exercise will dredge up other non-gimmicky words.
I won’t hold my breath, for fear of accidental auto(un)erotic asphyxiation.
Without further ado, here lies the challenge:
Day 1: A song you like with a color in the title
This one is a no-brainer for me. It’s obviously Blue in Green. Miles Davis. I’m giving myself bonus points, because that’s clearly two colors. One in another. From an album with a color in the title. Kind of Blue.
Anyway. This is the only possible response I could have to the Day 1 prompt. For me, it conjures love, longing, the push/pull dance of two lovers becoming cautiously acquainted. At once shy and daring, blushing, pleading, the horn and the keys representative of two entangling souls. Please, do yourself a favor, and enjoy this melodious delight. Then, if so inclined, share with me your own personal colorful song.
So this is weird. For some reason this post has been viewed almost every day this month and almost as much last month.
Oh. And P.S. The work/doctor/PNW stagnation? I kicked that shitty job, those shitty doctors, and the shitty town I lived in all to the curb. Why? Because I’ll be dead one day – so why the fuck not?
I’ve tried on lots of mottos over the years. A few that come to mind are:
Just Do It. Tomorrow.
Don’t cry over spilled milk. Scoop that shit up and put it in your coworker’s coffee. (I’ve never actually done that. See Motto #1.)
Convince the world that fur is deadly to cats and dogs, so they will shave their pets. Burst onto the market with faux fur coats to keep pets warm. You’ll be a hero. And rich. (Again, see Motto #1.)
Frankly, the only one of those three to ever gain any traction was the first one. As evidenced by my lack of success with the second and third options. There have been others, but I don’t want to give away all of my lame brilliant ideas.
My current life motto is something that’s sort of been playing on loop in my head for the last few months…
Chris Cornell died early Thursday morning. His band Soundgarden played a show on Wednesday night at the Fox Theater in Detroit. Two hours after the show ended, he was gone.
For two days, I’ve been working on a piece to pay tribute to him, and it’s been a struggle. Usually when I have a problem like this it’s because I’m staring at a blank screen trying to figure out what I want to say. That’s not the problem this time. The problem is I have way too much to say.
I’m not going to sit here and claim to have been a huge fan of Soundgarden. I didn’t dislike them, I just had to take them in small doses. I was a fan of Cornell. I love “Seasons,” the solo song he had on Cameron Crowe’s movie, Singles. It’s a droning acoustic song about isolation and the…