Blast from the Past

One of the cds I found at the Book sale was Meryn Cadell's Angel Food for Thought, which came out in 1991. "The Sweater" was one of those fun spoken-word songs (though not as annoying as Nada Surf's "Popular" from a few years later) that WFNX used to play quite a bit. I remember hearing it all the time when I was working at the Media Center down in the library basement. Anyone else remember this song?

Because all the cool kids are doing it!

Okay, maybe, maybe not...but just a reminder that I have an invite code for Dreamwidth if you want it. DW is actually kinda neat, VERY similar to LJ (same open-source code, with some relatively easy-to-understand tweaking) and you can set it up to crosspost at LJ if you so desire--and no, it's not trying to foist Facebook/Twitter crossposting at you. I'm under "jonchaisson" over there if you want to take a peek.

A Good Morning

Taken about 7am yesterday morning out our living room window.

6: Sunday Evening

Around 7:30 I'd head back to my room and rustle through my bookbag,
Check for any assignments I might have put off until this moment,
And look at my calendar book to see what was coming up that week.

I'd close my door to block out the sound of the television
(And turning on the radio on top of my bookcase, of course),
Hunker down on the bed, and finish off whatever needed finishing.

The window facing the back yard would be open, just a crack,
Just enough for me to listen to the ambience of the woods,
The neighborhood cars driving by, the dogs barking a few blocks away.

The weekend was coming to a close, the year was doing the same.
All I could do was wait for it to come, wait for it to pass,
And perhaps hope that the next day and the next year improved.

I would sit there, on my bed, tapping my pen in time with the radio,
Reminding myself to talk with my friends about that great new song,
And hope maybe we'd roadtrip down to Amherst and buy the album.

I'd have to remind my mom to put it on channel 24, on MTV tonight,
So the VCR would kick in and tape my three hours of entertainment,
Which I'd spend Monday afternoon watching before anyone got home.

Sunday evening was always the time for reflection, a time of peace,
A time for me to contemplate what I'd done and what I wanted to do,
Even if it was a time for giving up my freedom, however fleeting.


Crossposted from my Dreamwidth page