Tag Archives: Oprah

No New Tale to Tell

Wednesday. For some it’s hump day. However, for a lot of people it’s just Wednesday. It’s been an alright day. Not too cold, not too warm. Of course it could always be better.

Not much to write about I’m afraid. Is there ever much to write about? Is it all just gathering threads and trying to join them up, sew them together and make a nice fabric out of it? Is it the fabric that matters? Or is it the sewing?

These are the matters that spring from my mind and travel to my fingertips.

Listening to an interview with Brian Eno, something from about 20 years ago I think, rebroadcast on a Minnesota radio station on a show called Speaking of Music. It’s about a 2 hour interview, basically reviewing Brian Eno’s work and life up to that point.

Eno has a nice voice to listen to and since it’s an old tape that was digitized and playing on my Frankenstein computer occasionally a glitch pops up and Eno goes ‘Hmm Hmm Hmm Hmm’ for a few extra seconds.

It seems to be recorded live in an auditorium before an audience of Eno-philes, laughing at just about everything Eno has to say.

I’ve taken to listening to podcasts while I eat dinner instead of the news. Usually I watch the Ed Show at 6:00 but since the Olympics are on, I’ve listened to discussions. It’s a nice change of space.

I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Eno when I worked at Skyline Studios. I remember reading an interview with Eno in Trouser Press, and the wrote about how Eno would tear off the filter of his cigarettes and smoke the unfiltered bits, and there it was, an ashtray with torn off filters.

He was working with Laurie Anderson at the time and both were incredibly nice. Both of them signed records that I asked them to sign and occasionally when money is tight, I look at the Eno records and wonder how much money I could get for them.

I’m sure he wouldn’t mind and definitely would understand the situation that I would find myself in. But I haven’t gone so far as to look into eBay and seeing what I could find there. Perhaps one of these days.

I’ve also caught some Oprah lately. Yesterday I watched people getting makeovers, helped by Carson Kressley from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. I never could understand how people get surprised when they open the door and there is Carson Kressley.

My main problem is the fact that the people are filmed from inside their homes, a camera man a few feet behind them. Do these people have camera men in their living rooms all the time? Wouldn’t they think that something was up, I mean, why is there a cameraman breathing down their necks?

It was the same thing when after the Super Bowl, Bill and I watched a TV show about the CEO of a company working down in the ranks, with the people that inhabit the bottom end of the totem pole. This one guy we watched, worked for a week at different parts of his company.

And all the time, he was followed around by a camera crew. Now if someone was a new person at a company, wouldn’t you think something was up when the newbie would be tailed by a camera crew?

Aren’t any eyebrows raised?
No yellow cards?

It’s easy to overlook the camera crews for most, but obviously not for me.

Today on Oprah was the son of Jim Jones, named Jim Jones Jr. He was in Guyana when the People’s Temple were killed or committed mass suicide.

He would have been in Jonestown when it all went down, but was instead in Georgetown playing basketball which in effect saved his life, but made him feel guilty and never played basketball until years later when his son was on a school team.

The other guest was the sister of John Wayne Gacy. She of course had her own tale to tell, about how she didn’t believe that her brother killed 33 men and boys up to a point, but eventually had to admit it to herself.

I’m just grateful that my nearest and dearest aren’t sociopaths.

Hello to Sao Paulo, Mission Viejo, Warwick, Chiang Mai, Eureka, Petaling Jaya and of course Bala Cynwyd.

She

It’s been a beautiful Sunday. Really no complaints. At least none worth writing about. Mellow night last night too. Bill was in Atlantic City for the night. Driving people back to Bergen County at something like 2:00 in the morning.

I had an interesting phone call with Harpy. Not too garrulous. He was talking about music and how great it is to have it in one’s life. I had to agree. In fact while walking around Hoboken this afternoon, I wasn’t belly aching about no one to walk around with.

In fact if I was with someone I wouldn’t be listening to music, now would I?

I was quite happy to just be listening to music. I’ve always felt that way. Even when there is no music playing, there’s always a tune in my head. Been my constant and faithful companion for years.

I actually prefer it to sex, which might go to show how long it’s been since I’ve had sex. Or at least good sex. I’m willing of course, to disprove this theory. But Harpy feels the same way about music. About sex, I couldn’t say. You’d have to ask Harpy.

His blog is in the blogroll on the right, listed as Harpy’s Nest.

I wandered around listening to Led Zeppelin mainly. Just certain tracks that I like. Harpy also talked about pirating music. I was going to mention to Harpy that I had downloaded a movie but forgot about it since he was as usual dominating the conversation.

Oddly enough the movie I downloaded was The Boat That Rocked. A British movie that came out in the UK a few months ago. It’s going to be released here in the States next week with a different title, Pirate Radio. I prefer the title, The Boat That Rocked myself.

I haven’t watched it fully yet. It’s OK. Perhaps somewhere in the movie they’ll explain what Drew Carey is doing in it, playing an American DJ. Wait, that’s the wrong doppleganger. I meant Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Now that I have it though I can watch it anytime. I do like Bill Nighy though. He’s in it too.

Not as good as District 9.

Last night I also got a call from someone who was extremely irate. She’ll remain nameless. She was upset since her birthday was the other day and she was having dinner with her divorced parents who seem to be making overtures of getting back together again.

Perhaps that is what pushed her over the edge, though the excuse was that she needed cash and her parents were going to give her cash but her father took her and her mother out to dinner instead which made her furious.

It was quite an unpleasant phone call and since she was driving I advised her to calm down. I tried telling her that the suggestion or promise of a gift doesn’t always mean you are going to get that gift. That’s not what she wanted to hear though, and I did not want to hear her in that mood anyhow.

I did check to see if she made it back today and she did.

Happy birthday Maurice Menares!

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