Today’s Music: The National – Mistaken For Strangers
Usually around this time is when I throw in my weekend Trifextra, if I’m playing.We’ll get to that in a minute.
First, to you and yours and all to whom this is appropriate, Happy Passover and Happy Easter. Both are stories of redemption and freedom, and of love for your neighbor.
For me (generally non-religious), those are themes even a cynic like me can get behind.
I hope you all have a wonderful time weekend, even if you don’t celebrate.
Next, I saw something incredible last night on twitter. @bats0711(also with a blog here) put up a post that frightened many of her virtual friends.
They instantly rallied, sending supportive messages and trying to get her to respond to make sure she was ok.
Because some of these tweeters and bloggers are people I have the highest respect and affection for (don’t tell one of them that – she’ll never let me live it down. Yes, she knows who she is.), I also joined in, commenting on her blog and tweeting to her. Mostly a series of stupid, mildly amusing comments. So she could see that living in my head is probably worse than living in hers…
At one point, she did tweet back, that she was surprised and amazed at the thoughts and affection directed to her. She hasn’t tweeted or posted since that last night though. So if you could, tweet her a line or drop her a comment.
Mostly I was just in awe at the rallying and assumption of responsibility for someone who was in pain and seemed to just want acknowledgement of it.
Seriously, it gave me the warm fuzzies all over.
And now for those of you who need your fix of mindless babble, I am only to happy to comply
Here are the challenge parameters:
The challenge is to write a response that is between 33 and 333 words long and uses the words listed below. Use the words however you wish, but make sure that all three appear in your response. Oh, and they must appear in order.
The “band rehearsal space” wasn’t a grand studio area like it sounded.
It was the center of the studio apartment, with beds, tv and shelves all pushed in the corners away from the equipment.
Working as a band, they were even closer than a family. Or trauma survivors. Though sometimes it seemed like trauma survivors had it easier…
So it was no surprise that when Jake decided to wash Barnaby, the golden labrador and band mascot, he did it on the middle of the rehearsal area. It was the largest free space in the place.
What was a surprise was when the dog got away.
The cymbals tipped over with a reverberating crash, echoing and rebounding off the walls. The accordion, knocked from its stand, fell in a way that let its bellows compress with the longest most annoying sound possible. Wires and pickups got toppled together, gain and feedback multiplying from the amps as the bass and guitar strings twanged through them, resonating against each other ever more loudly. The piano reverberated in sympathy setting up a screaming wall of sound.
Tom and Aaron watched as Barnaby shot past, Jake running behind.
“Sorry for the cacophony!!!” shouted Jake over the din, puffs of soap dripping from his arms. “Just gotta wash those insects off him!” he continued, closing on the dog.
The bedlam continued until Barnaby, seeing Jenna coming in, sensed his opportunity and shot out the door. Jake took off after him, the sounds of barking and chaos trailing in his wake.
The instruments wailed into silence.
Tom turned to Aaron behind the mixing board.
“Tell me you got that.”
Aaron smiled. “Got it.” He pumped his fist. “It’ll be a number one, baby!”
Have a great weekend all. As for me, I have 18 minutes to finish this batch of matzah I’m going to make!