While I was away, I led a semi-exciting life. The main highlights: I took a train to the Bay Area and got groovy, spent $130 on records, including the Animals Greatest Hits, the first Van Halen record, and the Paul Butterfield Blues Band for a quarter each from some bearded dude on Telegraph in Berkeley. I also went to Coachella, and saw fucking Paul McCartney. I saw Paul McCartney perform "A Day in the Life", "Helter Skelter", et cetera, et cetera, et cetera! Plus, he performed obscure Wings songs that I love with an inkling of guilt, like "Let Me Roll It." Which, by the way, hardly any one else knew! Oh Paul, you make me feel so validated. Coachella, other than being "Coachella", was fairly uneventful. Let's be honest... I only went for Paul. If I didn't find the entire festival ordeal entirely enthralling, with thousands of beautiful people melting in the heat for the sake of music, in addition to Paul, I would've passed on one of music's flashiest festivals. I did read something where someone talked about the "Coachella moment." When the sun is going down, and you realize you're exactly where you want to be. I had many of those, I'm happy to report. And the grass was suspiciously green! That made me happy too.
Anyway, my current project is to listen to every single album on Rolling Stone's "The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time" list. Even if I've heard them before, I'm listening to them all in order. I'm currently halted at 38; Muddy Waters The Anthology 1947-1972. In addition to the album (though an amazing compilation of Muddy's best) being incredibly long, one of my speakers gave out, so I am now listening to only half of stereo mixes. It's a bummer. So I refuse to resume Rolling Stone-ing until I buy new speakers. Also, my cat (aptly named "Kitty"; not so creative, I know) had kittens. Six and a premature, hairless fetus. I kept the fetus in a bag for a few days, until it was finally flushed down the toilet. It was intriguing. Too bad my cat is an absolute negligent mother. She is constantly moving them around, may or may not feed them herself. It's a disaster. I plan on naming them interesting names. I had the idea of naming them after what came on shuffle as they were born. But then I might as well go through my iTunes myself and pick the best names. I don't know, I haven't even scoped their genitalia yet.
I don't know what to do for summer. I want to road trip, endlessly. I'd love to go cross country, and soak up the country, but this is expensive. The Bay Area is a little more feasible, so it may just happen. But mainly, I want to read this summer. I just finished Katharine Hepburn's autobiography "Me: Stories of My Life" for the second time. She was so incredible, witty, and full of endless wisdom. I bought it for twenty-one cents, and if anyone is presented with such a deal, buy it! She's luminous, even in text!
