2 Hours and 16 Minutes 'Til Jeopardy

 12 Hours Sober

"Who is Peter Ilyich, Alec?"

Time To Order Busking Gear

Yesterday, (Sunday) I only got a 4 pack of Red Stripe Lager in the 16 oz. cans. And then returned home to watch the end of the golf tournament on TV.

At some point, I became ravenously hungry, even though I had consumed all the green super foods and the mushroom concoctions, along with all the body building supplements, nitro-oxide boosters, etc.

This hybrid lifestyle had me breaking into a jog along the way to the beer store. "I've got to get some decent running shoes," I thought, as I ran along in the ones I have, which are a half size too small but which have nice springy soles."

Maybe soon, I'll be jogging towards the GNC and not the beer store in the mornings, I also thought.

The Red Stripe didn't make me do anything stupid like leave something on the stove, or God forbid, call the crack man for "one little bump." But, I made 2 trips to the candy machine, for apple pies and a honey bun; something that put a bit of sluggishness in my step this morning, as I awoke 3 hours before Jeopardy.

Tchaikovsky +.45

Peter Ilyich's music has appreciated in my esteem, as, in playing through the 75 or so classical vinyl's I have, I have hit a vein of Tchaikovsky albums from the "Great Men of Music" series from Time/Life that Jacob gave me.

I now think that there are things that he did better than any other composer, after initially assessing his music as having "something wrong with it." I might have been thinking that he intentionally harmonized certain melodies as a dog whistle to other gay men, and to irritate the ear of the straight man. Most gay's have a chip on their shoulders, and I don't doubt that there might have been a stubbornness in some of his arrangements, intended to subject strong, tough, masculine, red-blooded heterosexual men to overtly effeminate passages that evoke flowers and fairies dancing; just to watch them squirm and twirl their mustaches, type of thing.

I guess the radio to heaven was wired to Peter's piano, in that sense, and he had a rich world of flowers and fairies to draw out of his imagination from.

But, I am upgrading the guy so that he is now, at least, hovering around my top 10 favorite composers list, like a butterfly fluttering about (poised to alight upon the #10 spot, supplanting Gustav Mahler?! We'll see...) the list.

His genius is in the blending of the ensemble, knowing which instruments, in which combinations are going to seamlessly carry the melody. I get a sense of anticipation over what is going to happen next; which instruments are going to come to life, "out of nowhere," either in the background or foreground and change the whole texture of the piece.

The only drawback, if it is a drawback, is that I find my mind drifting away from intently listening, to perhaps staring out the window and being transported into a daydream, to which the music becomes a background. Maybe this is good, though. Maybe that part of the mind that will ask "Is that an oboe d' amore?" in the middle of me listening to music; needs to shut up, or go away entirely.