When David Heard

One afternoon last year, probably coming home from work, I had 90.5 on, enjoying some classical.  This particular afternoon this particular station was playing this particular song:  When David Heard.  The Eric Whitacre arrangement.  I was spellbound.  When I got to my apartment I just sat in the idling car, overcome with the power and emotion of the song, for the remaining 10 or so minutes of the piece.  I had to.  There was no other way I would find out the title except to wait for the DJ to enlighten me (actually, I probably could've found it with a little research later...).  But more importantly, I couldn't leave it.

It came on Pandora a couple days ago.  And again tonight.  Again, I could hardly do anything else except listen for the full 13+ minutes the song lasts.  After it played tonight, I spent a while trying to figure out how to embed it onto the sidebar.  Thus, you can see it to the right, and thus, you may now enjoy it for yourself.  Try it out.  Let it play while you read something else.  Maybe go buy it on iTunes or Amazon afterward.  I did.  Last year.  And I don't regret it.  Eric Whitacre is the man. 

A blue bunnied chair emblazened on the plastic of my toothy nightcap.

I had an idea.  A rough sketch of one, anyway.  Since I'm always bugging people with "Hey, that would make a good article," I figured I would just started writing them here.  That is, I'll punch out some rough drafts of the ideas I remember from throughout the day as a sort of preliminary to an actual [possible] article of more depth and substance later.  This way, I will still be super annoying to everyone who lives near me and hears me throughout the week, but I may actually remember some of those moments for the sake of scribbing them down for some global communication offered by the World Wide Web.

3:00 am; Z:ZZ I am

I think my poop's already disentregated in my intestines.  I think my face has acquired the wrinkles I was supposed to get in fifty years.  I think I'm probably bald.  I think if I glanced down I would notice a grandpa gut hanging out of my shirt.  I think even my eyelids gained wait. 

It's been such a long day.  I just finished my second article of the night. 

Dear Reader,

Please learn from the mistakes of a foolish young man.  Fleeting thoughts about getting someone to write an article for you is not the same as getting someone to write for you.  Bouncing ideas inside the cranium (notice, there is a lot of room to bounce) is not the same as bouncing ideas down the arm and fingers onto the paper or keyboard.  Question: did I seriously just think I could peck out a couple quick pieces for tomorrow?  Was I kidding myself when I decided it was just how it was going to go down, that I had no other alternative, and that I'd just have to learn to live with it? 

Oh-ho, silly me.  I guess I will have to learn by my mistake.  The hard way.  Fortunately for you, dear reader, although the data suggests that the majority of you are graduated, almost-graduated, or long-gone-graduated, perhaps you can learn from my mistake.  The easy way.

At least let it be a reminder to you.

Most sincerely, blood-shot-eyes-edly, and truly happily,

Christoffer