In January I summoned a drawing memory brief of Soulville, the place on Main St., between the Rialto (where I saw King Kong vs. Godzilla) and the barber shop (where I saw George Wallace get a haircut). On the left was Jack, on the right was Norman. Norman on the right hipped me to blues.
|L to R: Jack, Norman.|
In February I ventured West. Good idea as the snow was piling ever higher in the East. T'wern't long after the passing of Mr. Cub, Ernie Banks. There in the sybaritic city by the bay, Jeff DeMark sang his ode to Ernie Banks, "Does that sound like work to you?"
On same trip me and the boys had a night on the town. We didnt dance, you know, but the bluegrass dancers of the evening did make an impression, of which I am still mindful. "Did you see that girl?"
"The one in the flowered dress?"
Books read this year were A Friend among Spies, Inherent Vice, and Player Piano. So surprised to discover (redécouvre ce que je savais?) Player Piano's homages to cybernetics.
EPIAC XIV, though undedicated, was ... at work in deciding
how many refrigerators,
how many lamps,
how many turbine generators,
how many hub caps,
how many everything America and her customers could have and how much they would cost.
The topic of cybernetics arose this year - as I was able to meet with the author (Eden Medina) of a book on Allende's cybernetic experiment. I wrote about her book on the sister blog, DataDataData.
had to recall how he grabbed me away from the other kind of musics, and again, had to node to Norman, who used to give me BB 45s as the bonus for buying an LP.
Much of year was about Pinterest, and Tumblr animated gifs , and Twitter, and so-on. If you go to the image below you go to a never changing Pinterest widget, that shows where my head is at any given day. It's like LIFE magazine as a stream of consciousness. A window into some kind of reality that the Internet has enabled. Curious.
In New York in the summer, I saw what I'd seen before, but 'wrote it down' anyway. Even embrace the nostalgie. (what was it Gomez said? "Tish, I love it when you speak French?") Project for a Revolution in New York, by Robe Grillet, came back to me in a flash. Did I ever tell you about the time I went to one of his lectures at BU. He spoke in French "unfortunately" and I had to slink out in front of the rest of the class (more than half of which I am sure could not speak French either, but who stayed, as they were taking the course 'for credit').
What a year huh? We have stuff in the refrigerator. I can stop blogging anytime the entropy hits me. Does that sound like work to you? Got somewhere to go five days a week. Hey, this sounds like a Facebook post. Time for my bootheels to be wandering... but check out the archives in the column to my left your right.
- Jack Vaughan