Seven minutes and fourty two seconds of music, unthinkingly ripped from a cd casually bought. Seven minutes and fourty two seconds of music not listened to for weeks and weeks, until it unassumingly shuffled to the front of a randomly generated queue, and then quietly, like a comfortable pair of old shoes, slipped into my psyche, seemingly to stay. Who ever thought that’d be Bob Dylan? That he’d write a song that would do that, or that he’d play such a gentle shuffle or sing it in such a quiet way? The song is ‘Spirit in the Water’ and it’s from Modern Times and is as good an argument as you could come up with why Dylan is neither over the hill nor past his prime. Comfort food for the soul, indeed.
The flu is back. My head is stuffed up, my throat is sore, and I am feeling altogether less than spiffy. It’s six o’clock on a Wednesday morning, and shortly I’m off to work, as usual. I feel just a little bit sorry for myself, as you can no doubt tell. Not that I have the real problems, just the runny nose ones.
Anyhow, I thought I’d tell you about this book I’m reading. I heard about it before it came out. I didn’t like the idea for it. I didn’t like the title. I didn’t even like the cover, when I saw it on Amazon.com. I did, however, like the editor of the book. Smart chap. So, I started to read it. Not regularly, front to back, like a regular person. It’s a collection of stories, so I can pop in where I like. And, guess what? Despite all of my pre-judgements (and sadly I do pre-judge, though I try not to), it’s good. I’ve read the eighth, the eleventh and the final stories in the book, and they’re all terrific. Just goes to show you, hmm? Be damned surprised if at least one of the stories didn’t make the year’s best, though this is a good year.
Hope your day is going better. Will try to post more often.