Over the past three evenings, I have conducted my first legal experiences with cannabis. Herewith follows a lengthy preamble:

( my Reefer Madness tale )

This is a night view of the River Foss as seen from Piccadilly. (The actual painting is small, four by four inches.) The two large white lights sit atop Foss Bridge, and the faint golden wall behind and to the left is The Blue Bicycle.

This is one of my fave paintings I have done so far, mostly because I feel like I did a better job of actually capturing what I saw.

finishing my twentieth acrylic painting [a portrait of Sylvan], and getting a positive response to it -- I was expecting more like a WTF but people surprised me by liking it -- some said its my best, even

I've recently been rereading my novels to A) try and get back in gear for my next one and B) reacquaint myself with characters who are due to reappear. My books are rarely sexually explicit, but last night I was reading what is [so far] my only prolonged [chapter-length] sex scene, and something clicked with me. Something not just about how I write, but how I am.

Sex is something I revere. 

When I describe it, I describe it with reverence and respect. Not meaning coyly, with Victorian euphemisms or whatnot, but with an awareness of the spiritual beauty of its intense physical pleasures. And this got me thinking about how out of touch I feel with my culture at large, at least as it reveals itself to me online, which is where most of my interactions happen these days.

I find it distasteful when other people use childish or silly language to describe sexual things. Some people's sex scenes make me feel like I stepped in something when I read them, just because of their tone. It isn't the sex per se that disturbs me -- I'm not a prude -- but rather the "pearls before swine" disrespect. Similarly, degradation of any sort has no place in sex as far as I'm concerned -- worship is more like what feels natural to me. On a bad day, it even seems to me that saying that sex is "fun" runs the risk of trivializing it. But that's just me.

I'm not saying my way is better, just that I know what works for me and what doesn't. Not saying that people aren't free to like what they like. If people mutually enjoy calling their body parts stupid names or talking to each other like enemies, then so be it. My point is more that I feel so out of touch, all at sea on the ocean of sexuality. I see almost no representation of my perspective from anyone else out there. Is it a generational thing? Is the romantic point of view inherently quieter?

I dunno. But I have no plans to change my slant on it to get in tune with everyone else. I remain a stubborn cuss to the end.

Day 30: A song you'd listen to while wistfully looking out the window of a bus

Traces by The Classics IV

I chose this because of the key word wistfully -- this is one of the most wistful songs I know, and I do love it. But if I were allowed to look happily or dreamily out the bus window, then my song would be one that for me epitomizes the joys of travel: (Cross the) Heartland by The Mighty Pat

Day 28: A song with great vocals

For some reason, the name that instantly sprang to my mind when I was confronted with this was "Tom Jones", even though I have never been what you could call a really rabid fan of his [I like him just fine, though]. But then I decided to be contrary, and go with a more subjective definition of "great". I realized there are many singers who appeal to me deeply, in part because they may be technically imperfect but also project a lot of personality and soul that connects with me. So I am going with:

Favourite Fallen Idol by Adorable

When I got into Adorable, I soon realized that I deeply dug the idiosyncrasies of Pete Fij's vocals. For me, he has one of those voices that I would gladly listen to singing any type of song at all. I went on to pick up his other work post-Adorable and yes, I enjoy listening to his voice, whatever kind of music it decides to tackle. That, I feel, is also a form of greatness.

Day 26: A song that makes you want to fall in love

I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do by ABBA

ABBA was for a long time a guilty pleasure of mine, until society grudgingly admitted it was sorta-okay to like them. I like the massed-saxes sound in this one, and, while their voices always blended in an uncanny and special way... in this one, with their throbbing vibrato, for me they sound like the Sound of Falling in Love®.

Day 24: A song with lyrics you love

The Dear Departed Past by Dave Frishberg

Dave Frishberg is one of my fave songwriters, he's a worthy pianist, and I love his voice (which I once heard perfectly described as “avuncular”). He's also one of few who can get me to really pay attention to lyrics, and this is probably my all-time fave piece of lyric writing. Not just for its message, but for its level of craft. His accomplished use of internal rhyme, his skill in keeping long sentences coherent, his ability to use words like antiquarian or disenfranchised in such a way that they flow smoothly and fit perfectly and draw almost no attention to their own rarity. A master.

Here are the first few lyrics from this song, recalled from memory as I heard them in his first recording of this song on his Live at Vine Street album:

Am I hopelessly old-fashioned
'Cause I'm harboring a passion for the olden days?
Is my sense of time so out of joint
It's starting to distort my point of view?
Does my antiquarian brain contain
Imaginary memories of golden days?
Can one feel a real nostalgia
For a time and place one never even knew?

I anticipate times to come
With something less than jubilation
And I'm looking to times gone by
With something more and more like admiration

Here's to the dear departed past
The musty magazines
The sepia-tinted scenes
Of long-forgotten places
Here's to the dear departed past
The photographs you find
That seem to bring to mind
Familiar family faces

That's when every sky was bluer
Clouds seemed to disappear back then
That's when every friend was truer
Ah, but then again
Didn't they know you when?

Day 22: The song you'd play at your wedding

Begin the Beguine by Artie Shaw

When I was younger I went to a lot more weddings than I do lately, and it seemed to me that I almost always heard this being played at the reception. Once or twice when I hadn't heard it yet, I went up to the DJ to request it and he always had it. So, over the years, I came to think of this as A Wedding Song®.

Day 20: A song everyone loves but you can't stand

Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood

I could argue about how if the genders in this song were reversed, that no one would approve of its sentiments. But then I'd be in for a bunch of arguments about "punching up vs. punching down" -- and while those might not be completely without merit, they wouldn't convince me of the rightness of this song, and I don't feel like going through all that.

More importantly, I hate this song because it glorifies revenge. I simply don't believe in revenge or the rightness of it. Try to reframe this song as "justice" if you will, but I have tried to do so, and in this case I can't. True justice is about righting wrongs, IMHO, restoring, undoing damage.... not "balancing the scales" of damage with more damage. The appeal of revenge runs deep in our culture, and I despair of it.