More Moving Stories; Sounds; Am I But A Dream

After a week in the new office, it is beginning to feel more familiar. There is a slow, organic process of shifting items around. Does it work better to have the collection of business cards in the file cabinet or the counter drawer? Should I store the backup tapes on the shelf or in a box? That kind of thing.

Now that the new offices have been occupied, the old offices are being cleaned and re-painted. But to do this, they have to be emptied. Today, the halls were full of boxes, chairs, tables, filing cabinets, desks, bookcases and just about everything else under the sun.

If this were not enough, we are in a heat wave with a daily heat index of 110. Two guesses what happened Monday - the AC in the old building went out! So at the moment, the old building has the olfactory ambiance of a pile of dirty gym socks and the visual appeal of a junkyard.

Friday, I returned to Circuit City to scoop up the mini-stereo system I'd seen earlier in the week. CC has to be one of the nosiest places on the planet. Lots of surround sound entertainment centers showing Star Trek: The Next Generation going at full blast. Seemingly hundreds of tv's all tuned to auto racing. Clerks and customers twisting and flipping switches on the mega-watt, industrial-sized sound systems. No wonder all the clerks have a dazed please-just-shoot-me-look.

The mini-stereo system is perfect for the new office. The tower has a foot print of about 8 X 8 inches with each speaker taking up slightly less space. It produces a decent sound without bugging the neighbors.

I've been carting four or five CD's to work each day. My initial thinking was that all would be suitable for the workplace, but I'm having second thoughts. Playing a CD with a cut with lyrics such as "Get Your Rocks Off" might not be a good idea. And I've noticed that the system does not do justice to the dynamic range of some CD's, so I'm constantly changing the volume. And the CD of film scores of Franz Waxman came across like sonic treacle. Nor do I want to listen to something that is too somber - for example, Mozart's "Requiem." So some selections "work," and some do not. An odd situation, and one that I had not anticipated.

Last night, I spend about 90 minutes on-line at Columbia House picking my free selections. I didn't want everything by one artist. And I didn't one to be trapped in a single genre or decade. And I was slightly hesitant about something too extreme. And in some cases the artist I wanted was not available. So I pulled up Rolling Stone and cross checked for high ratings. I'm sure there is some Freudian significance to the choices, but I'm not sure what it is. So here they are:

The Clash, "London Calling"
The Clash, "Combat Rock"
Joni Mitchell, "Both Sides Now"
Belle & Sebastian, "Boy with the Arab Strap"
Bob Dylan, "Bringing It All Back Home"
Bob Dylan, "Blonde on Blonde"
Sarah McLachlan, "Surfacing"
Kate Bush, "The Sensual World"
Aphex Twin, "Selected Ambient"
Stevie Ray Vaughan, "Sky is Crying"
Jeff Beck, "Wired"
Tori Amos, "To Venus and Back"

Has the world gone reality-television-crazy? Have you tried "Big Brother"? Tonight the residents nominated two for possible banishment. The guy seemed to expect it, but the woman was pissed. She wanted everyone to tell her why they voted against her. Lady! Get a grip! How junior high can you fucking get!

Monday night, I watched part of "The Thirteenth Floor" which is about the creation of virtual reality worlds. Including the possibility that this existence is the virtual creation of another world. I had the strange thought that maybe we're the stars of some interdimensional "Truman"-like show.

PAX!