Hurricane Irene

If there is one thing you could point to about Marylanders, and this gets my goat, is the constant overreaction to life’s calamities.  We’re getting a half inch of snow?  Let’s drive down to the local supermarket, spend hundreds of dollars, in order to weather the possible day of inconvenience.

                Now Hurricane Irene was nothing to sneeze at, especially if you lived on the Eastern Shore of the state, that said, this weather brings out the crazies.  Try finding a battery bigger than a double AA.  Impossible!  Candles?  The only candles remaining had dubious scents, such as Lavender Cheesecake, Bronx Monkey House and Grandma’s Pot Roast.   The latter two smelled eerily similar.

                People descend like a swarm of locusts, picking up everything in its path.  The store shelves rapidly empty of everything. 

“Honey, isn’t that liver in the meat case.” 

“Yes, dear it is.”

Before I can run to it, an albino dwarf comes running over scoops it up, fiendishly laughs and with a huge hunchbacked Samoan running interference for him, scampers over to the cashier line, where he waits 45 minutes to pay for his prize.

Major weather and the Christmas holidays bring out the lunatics who don’t normally shop.  I was waiting to return some spoiled cheese.  The customer service person asks who is next in line.  A middle aged, spinsterish woman, with straight bangs and that off-kilter look in her eye says it is her.

I turn around and say, no it’s not, in fact, I was waiting here while you were still in the checkout line.  She’s still insistent.  The man that was in front me in line supports my claim.  I complete my transaction and she’s still at it.  I turn gaze into her off center eyes and say, again, that she’s wrong.  She’s says I’m weird.  That may be, I tell her, but I was still in line before you.  I quickly hurry away as she starts to short circuit like one of the Stepford Wives.

Buried Treasure

As the two followers of this blog (Guten Tag, Hans and Hi, Mom)are aware, I like yard sales and music.  Put those two together and I get to slowly add music to my MP3 player at low cost.  My son and I have also been scouring flea markets and thrift stores for bargains as well.  I’d like to share a few of the more interesting finds I’ve come across or re-discovered.

                Celtic Music – a lot of “ethnic” or culture-centric music leaves me cold.  Celtic flutes, singing and women have changed that.  Plus, my wife absolutely loves it.  So any CDs of this genre I pick up score points with the wife, which is always a bonus.

                MC5 – don’t know how to classify these guys, proto-punk, heavy metal, but listening to “Kick Out the Jams” again, makes my ears bleed.  Not a bad thing under the right circumstances.

                Some guy playing the pan flute – my son picked this out.  I gave it a listen.  He even does a version of Lionel Rithchie’s “Hello”, a song I wouldn’t listen to on a good day.  The pan flute is like the accordion, listening to a few measures is enough to switch to another CD.

                Sarah Brightman/Time to Say Goodbye  –  A classically trained voice that doesn’t come off as strident and overbearing like a lot of opera singers.  The first song on this CD is the same one that Will Ferrell did in “Stepbrothers”.   She does it better.

                Ravel’s Bolero – For those people who say classical music is stodgy and boring.  This piece is smokin’ hot.

                The Ultimate Barry Manilow – Hey, it was only two bucks, but, honestly, even my wife looked at me funny when I bought this one home.  Hey, I have fond memories of “Copacabana”.  I serenade my cats by inserting their names for Rico’s.  Moving on..

                Movie Soundtracks – Many movie soundtracks have a lot of good songs, including the good ones from groups who only had one or two.  Plus, they usually pass the ITunes test.  The I Tunes test:  A song generally costs .99 cents on I tunes.  If I’m paying $2 for a CD that has four good songs, it passes the ITunes test.  Some soundtracks like “The Big Chill” (oldies) or the Wedding Singer (some decent ‘80s stuff) are a couple that are worth picking up.

                Big Band – The older I get the more I can appreciate music from a bygone era.  Listen to Benny Goodman’s  “Sing, Sing, Sing” or Woody Herman’s “Woodchopper’s Ball” to really appreciate the genre.

                John Coltrane/Coltrane Plays the Blues – If I had to pick one Jazz album, this one just might be it.

                The Grateful Dead/Skeltons from the Closet – I have never been a fan of the Grateful Dead.  They have the worst harmonies ever and I just can’t see how others can be so passionate about them. That said, picking up a Greatest Hits package of an average group that passes the ITunes test is always great. 

Driven to Madness

              Occasionally, I need to take my son to Arlington, Virginia to have his flute or piccolo repaired.  These people are the best in the business; however, I dread this trip.  Days before the trip, I break out into a cold sweat and have nightmares.  The day I have to drive him, my body tenses, my testicles retract into my body and I begin to weep.

                Yesterday’s trip was worse than any other.  First, there were several accidents and slowdowns.  Second, there were exit closings and construction and third, my son had to pee like a racehorse in the middle of major traffic jam.  I recall saying to him, please take sips from your water bottle, don’t drink the whole thing.  Alas, more parental pearls of wisdom that fell on deaf ears.

                Commuting around the D.C. area is a punishment fit for the most heinous of crimes.  I’ve lived in several major cities.  New York, although I didn’t drive, it would take me over an hour to go from my home in Brooklyn to my job in another part of Brooklyn.  I took three trains to do it.  In Philadelphia, the Schuylkill Expressway is Satan’s dragway.  In London, I tried to drive on the right hand side of the road several times with near fatal results.  Damn foreigners!

                After hours of driving (this is, or should be, a 90 minute trip at best), we finally made it.  My son peed.  We had lunch and it was time to leave.  After girding my loins, we were off, homeward bound.   Days later we finally pulled into the driveway and hungry, thirsty, dirty our clothes torn and shredded.  Next time, I send the instruments UPS.

Route 495 on a typical weekday