2002-02-25 - 10:33 a.m.
I hung the Doyle's Pub calendar on the wall in my cubicle. It's this amazing mix of old-school Boston, politics, socialism and just general little factoids. I'd like to know who it is that is in charge of deciding what is announced for each day.
Feb. 25 states: 1807, Slavery ended in England; 1837 1st practical electric motor patented; and 1917 Anthony Burgess b.
To be honest, I had no idea who Burgess was without a quick Google which informed me that:
British novelist, composer, essayist, translator and critic, Anthony Burgess, the prolific writer whose best-known novel, "A Clockwork Orange," offered a bleak vision of a violence-ridden future, was born Feb. 25, 1917, in Manchester, England. After graduating from Manchester University in 1940, he joined the British Army Education Corps where he served as musical director of a special services unit, entertaining troops in Europe. His renown novel "A Clockwork Orange" (1962) follows a murderous, Beethoven-loving teen-age gang leader in complacent and conformist society. Roving bands of delinquents fight, steal and rape to assert their freedom against the conformity of a clockwork society. The brutality depicted in this novel emerged after an assault on his wife during the war that resulted in the loss of their expected child. She died a few years later. He wished people viewed him as a musician who writes novels instead of as a novelist who writes music. "Music is a purer art because it has no direct relationship to human events. It's totally outside the field of moral judgment. That's why I prize it." He published 50 books and died November 23, 1993 in London.
All that from, here
I admit to having never read A Clockwork Orange. Nor seen the movie. I seem to be admiting quite a lot today. I admit to not understanding his quote that music has no direct relationship to human events. Seems to me that nearly everything has a direct relationship to human events. It can be exhausting at times.
I'm wearing the most dull outfit I own. I attempted to jazz it up with the Pearls that The Girl gave me. I try to reclaim the greyness of my face by slathering on red lipstick. The whole thing gives this illusion of red lips floating on a grey cloud. My therapist makes a note every time I wear a bright color to visit her. Last week I wore a red sweater, yellow tshirt and blue fingernail polish. She wrote down a lot.
Today I'm wearing a grey silk shirt, black/white houndstooth pants and red lipstick which I've already mentioned. I wonder what the therapist thinks she's getting out by writing down what I'm wearing. I like the feel of this silk. I like how the whole thing looked when I put on the black, leather jacket to go out this morning. I liked not having to worry about wearing an outfit today that I'd rather wear another day.
Yesterday the Girl and I taught ourselves to play Rummy. We're getting rather good at it. We played the entire of Sunday morning. I went to paint the ceiling in my study, and then we continued the game over drinks and burgers at the local pub which is not Doyle's, but which does have a fireplace and did have the U.S. vs. Canada game on the tv. We took over an entire corner table that could have seated more than us, but we're Sunday regulars and we tip rather well, so we were left alone to our card game and beers.
Saturday was just rather an amazing day that went far better than it should have by all rights. We slept a good bit of the day. After taking the Dog to the vet for all the appropriate shots and check ups. We took a walk around the arboreteum (sp?) and then we slept some more.
Saturday night we got a bit gussied up and went out to Karoke in JP. Which is really. Just something else. There's a certain intimacy that develops in a bar. Wherein people seem to just. Come together. I never understand how it happens, and yet we always seem to strike up conversations with unlikely people. We became fast friends with a man who was easily 300 lbs and accepted cell phone calls during his singing of "Oh Dahlia." I got three compliments from three Straight Girls on three Separate Occassions in the line at the ladies' room. I had on the red, patent leather Mary Janes that have A Heel on 'em.
One of the Girls, who should have been from Revere if anywhere, looked at the shoes and goes, "Oh my god. Where'd you get those?"
"Oh yeah. I got em in New York."
"Of course you did."
All that said in a very thick Boston accent. Of course you did. Never mind that they're last season Nine West and could be acquired nearly anywhere in the continental U.S. and quite possibly beyond. They were hip and cool and red patent leather Mary Janes with A Heel are just not usually seen on the streets of Boston and therefore. Of course. Of course they came from New York.
That's the thing about Karoke. You never expect to have nearly as much fun as you end up having. And all of which seems to be a very long way of saying that Music. Indeed. Has a very direct relationship on life. Despite what Burgess may or may not think.
