After discovering my iPod cable is (fingers crossed) back at home with Thoroughly Modern Male, I went on a music binge. I don’t listen to as much new music as I did in college, which is actually quite sad when I think about it. I listen to music mostly when I write, and I haven’t done much writing for pleasure or self-development since undergraduate. Coming up on three years of not finishing a creative project, with only the occasional spat of blogging to keep my narrative skills from degenerating into being only fit to write press releases appropriate to the campaign for simple English, writing for an audience that considers tabloid newspapers literature.
In any case, I saw that Bright Eyes has a new album coming out. My senior year of college I had to take the laboratory science requirement I had postponed forever, Anthro 1. It wasn’t great. It didn’t help that I tried to do an internship class with the same teacher and had to drop it in Week 8 after her demands for my sole written work became impossible: archiving and researching paintings of Bernal Spheres and Stanford Torus designs was brilliant, but I really didn’t have the knowledge base to do a comparison with Conquistador map-makers delineating the New World.
One of the last ones out of the lab on a balmy California afternoon I heard guitar. Unusual time of day, even for my outdoor-living campus. HE was blissfully unaware, even though I stood right in front of him and listened through the end of the song.
“That was so nice,” I said. “I absolutely love this song.”
“Oh! So, you’re familiar with Conor’s work?”
I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but he did play one of my favourite songs of all time–I haven’t liked anything else I’ve heard by Conor, oh well.