Mid July

Saturday, I had an extra-long workout at the gym; 30 minutes of which was elliptical work.

We went to the Oregon Country Fair.  It was rainy and just the right temperature for me.  While I missed seeing some of the more exotic costumes (or lack of costume), I also didn't miss some of the fashion donts that happen at the fair.  It was nice seeing L.H. a writer-friend who sells masks at the fair.  I think my favorite group was the Fighting Karma Marching Band, who plays a selection of Sousa mash-ups.

At some point over the weekend, The Child and I got into a discussion about music.  He's discovered "Imagine Dragons" and so he was playing me their song.  OK, songs; but like U2, their songs sort of sound the same.  In this case, there's a signature A-minor key, the word "whoa-oh-oh" in a sort of tonic-fifth-forth progression, an AABB rhyme scheme, and a key word (like "radioactive") repeated about four to ten times.   Actually, it could be much worse.

TC:  "John I want you to play something with a strong bass.  Like 'Duuuuuuhhhhhn.'"
John:  "Oh, well, here's something."  (Plays the Scorpions "Rock Me Like a Hurricane")
TC:  "No John; a strong bass."
John:  "Well..."  (Tries Duran-Duran's "View to a Kill.")
TC:  "C'mon.  Bass.  Duuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhnnnnnnnn."
John:  "Umm"   (Tries The Cars "Just What I Needed") "Er, no..." (Tries "My Best Friend's Girlfriend")
TC:  "There's no bass in this."
John: "Hmm.  Well, you know, I don't normally like what they play at the gym -- but I noticed when they changed the music to some newer stuff that it all sounded generically bland.  Listen to the artistry of the guitar in this--"
TC (throwing his hands up, tilting his head sideways and making a face):  "Ugh!  No!  (In a Graham Chapman voice) Not the artistry!"
John:  "Alright, fine; we can listen to "Imagine Dragons."  (figured I may as well listen to it to make sure that it's just sad indie songs and not songs about sex and war)

Monday, I went to the gym and had a typical workout.   My latest focus is on obliques, so I've been doing side crunch things.

Dreams:  Odd mish-mash dreams.  Tuesday and Wednesday nights I've dreamed that I've written a short story (the second time I remember editing it), but when I wake up, I can't remember what I've written.  

This morning I had another hypnopompic visitation; this time it was a small muppet-like white-whiskered gnome wearing a blue shirt and a red cap.  I think he had a red nose, sort of like Bert's from Sesame Street.  He was looking at the books on my end table.  I knew he wasn't really there, and he faded away.  So far all of these instances have been silent.   I suppose if they start talking to me I should write down what they say.