Observations

  Boy, I thought I had some odd stuff in my music library. My brother, Brad, stopped by last night to show off the finished Wonka trike and brought along a CD case full of some wild stuff, a lot of nu-metal I guess you'd call it. Not a whole lot to my taste, it all sounds the same and not very catchy at all. But I picked out this band, Guano Apes, to give a listen for a while. They have an interesting vibe, lot going on, very cool production. I'd liken them to Evanescence but not so ethereal or operatic, some great heavy sounds with a little Oingo Boingo thrown in for good measure. And how 'bout that moniker? I'm telling you, I was fifteen years ahead of time with 'Monkey Grip'. Anyway, I swapped him Queens Of The Stone Age' latest and presented him with a Rogue Male album he'd admired last week on eBay. I think they were French, 80s metal, like a junior Motorhead from what I remember of their sound. He's gonna make us CD copies from it, should be interesting.

On my tour of the neighborhood this morning I saw a variety of cats, blacks and grays, one a black and brown calico I guess you'd call it, very skittish. And one rabbit. I'm surprised the rabbits ever show themselves with as many free ranging felines as call this little burg home. There's a house on the main street with a great rambling English sort of garden, they have several giant green pumpkins maturing on the sidewalk. Another place with a morning glory vine overtaking the shrubbery at the rear of their yard, great little violet and white blooms. Speaking of, there's another house with a giant sort of trumpet vine-slash-bush with great big white blossoms. I can put two fingers inside the trumpet, cool.

The man down the street with the pink flowering hedge and the beautiful collie had a big blowout last weekend and it looks as though he's gearing up for another today. In fact, he was just readying the pig for the roaster last night around ten. At eleven he was perched in his lawn chair in the driveway and the roaster was smoking already. This morning at seven he was in the same spot, maybe he slept in the chair, turning the spit in his sleep. Wow, it wafted the alluring smell of smoky bacon and then some and followed me halfway down the street.

But the strangest thing was somebody's outfit left by the ball diamond. Jeans, t-shirt, belt, shoes and a white garment which, having not inspected too closely, I can only hope was not an undergarment yet. Stacked carefully if not precisely at the curb in the grass and I guess they walked away in the altogether. Who knows...?