Winter was hard and I live an ungodly distance from the post-office, it has snowed like a hell would snow and I nearly split my gulliver when I took a tumble one day riding my bike home from work on the ice. But you know me, I can't complain.
I have a stack of cds labeled with a yellow sticky note. It has been collecting dust. The 'to do' check-box on the note indicates a void of action or a surplus of inaction. I can't tell which. In any case I feel bad about syncopating the rhythm of the guild. And the physical media and its transport has been my biggest impediment to faithful interchange. I've been considering leaving the discs behind at the places I frequent, such as the pool where I do laps, the pub where I eat on thursdays, the vietnamese place that has great pho, the cafe where I drink green tea and read books I don't understand. . . Maybe I'll leave them with an anonymous note that says "I think you're great" or a suspicious looking one-time pad filled with random numbers and letters stamped in red FOR YOUR EARS ONLY.
So for those who would like to hear the iso-wintertime mix that I herded together only to let it age gracefully on my cheap fibreboard dresser, you can get it here & here, or if you'd prefer a torrent, you can get that here.
Namaste to my young american warriors of the post subprime new economic epoch.
And to my fellow Canadian compatriot(s) I'll share a terrible joke:
So this baby seal walks into a club . . .
(tracklisting is included in both the torrent folder and the zip file. This mix was constructed sequentially and intended to play sequentially. Non-sequential random-ordered playing may result in strange juxtapositions, scattered thoughts of antique deep-sea diving helmets and notions of bears wearing ill-fitting hats.)
* in memory of an old horseman who loved the Aussies and taught me to walk a horse the last ½ mile home after a hard ride.
And the band played waltzing matilda as they carried him down the gangway.