Tuesday, March 20, 2007

too good to last...

On March 2, the Copyright Royalty Board voted to drastically raise the rates charged to the fledgling internet radio industry. Because these rates are astronomically high in relation to the revenue these radio stations can attract, it will effectively eliminate all but a few (that suck) internet radio stations. Not only does this put a financial bullet in the heart of the most progressive and innovative music sources, like Pandora.com and KCRW.org, but it limits the ability of indie artists to 'break through'.

Click on this link to save the world from the kind of corporate music robotrons who believe that what the world needs is another Celine Dion, Mariah Carey or Michael Bolton.

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Monday, March 19, 2007

to have loved and lost...

Holy crap... has it really been a month and a half since my last post?
Where has the time gone?
Dumb question. Its gone into cleaning the floors, washing dishes, working, helping with 4th grade long division, doing laundry, making curry, chasing cats, running over cement barriers that looked like they were covered in ice, replacing car mufflers, praying, buying lime green platform wedge shoes, returning lime green platform wedge shoes, buying mustard green stillettos, helping to practice Suzuki violin, eating (the best ever) ginger scones, making menus for my favorite one-woman cappuchino closet, guilt-fully not planting gladiola bulbs, drinking margaritas, planning a trip to Nashville, getting paid to play musical chairs, practicing a my downward dog posture and - oh yeah- just a bit of knitting.

A month ago, knitting was higher up on the list. I was going to start a new Lenten knitting project and set just two parameters, it had to be mindful project and from my stash. Of course sitting at the top of my stash was 4ply black cashmere and socks are very mindful. First sock went well - wearing a hand knit cashmere socks is like feeding your feet a box of Godiva chocolates. They felt so good that I cruised into the second sock without a hint of the dreaded 'second sock syndrome". Then I hit a very stressful day at work. Big bad dumb day where I would have made more progress trying to communicate in Esperanto than English. Rather than head to the restaurant next door for a martini or three - I thought I'd go to the library and knit a few rows of my lovely lent socks before attacking rush hour. It's quiet, they have comfy chairs, I won't run into anyone I know, I don't have to buy anything. Doesn't this sound like a smart way to combat jangled nerves? Don't I sound smart and disciplined? Isn't this the kind of thing that Jesus would have done if he hadn't been so busy with the Last Supper, prophesising and getting ready to move boulders?

At the library it was quiet, and I knit blissfully in my comfy chair with a killer view of downtown for maybe half an hour when a guard approached me and asks if I had children around.

"UH no - if I had kids around then the whole bliss angle wouldn't really be working for me here..and do you REALLY think that anyone with kids, in a library can just sit and look as not-stressed as I am right now." I thought this thought, but didn't say it because the dude is messed up my stitch count and cashmere gets fuzzy if you rip it out too much. HE then informed me that I needed to leave the comfy chairs because adults can't be in the kids section without kids (I hadn't even noticed I was in the kids section because it was quiet- there were no kids in the kids section) Evidently, business women knitting black cashmere socks for Lent fall into some sort of pedophile profile and endanger all non-existent kids in the kids section.

Every ounce of work-stress I shed came back doubled, because not only do I have to give up my chair with the killer view, but in dealing with him I dropped about 10 stitches. OBVIOUSLY, I couldn't possibly leave until I finished the row. With this proclamation, it appears I've become a menice to society because next he turned away and( I swear I'm not making this up) , pulled out his walkie talkie, called for backup, along with giving out a description of me. Which means that every security guard in the library was on the lookout for a dangerous blond sock knitter. In my haste to leave the library before I did something to the security guard that would get knitting needles banned in public places around the world, I grabbed the second sock with dropped stitches, shot him a truly menacing look and left quickly.

Much to my deep shock, sadness, dismay, regret, and disgust, the first finished cashmere sock did not leave with me. I un-mindfully left the finished sock on the floor under the comfy chair with the killer view. Not one of Mr. Security Guard's friends or collegues turned the lonely sock into Lost and Found.

I like to think my little fuzzy buddy ended up in sock heaven where all of the missing dryer socks go. But in the meantime, its gone baby gone and the love is gone. In its place is a very soft little black sock shaped hole in my heart and picking up the pointy sticks has been bittersweet.