I can no longer ignore the Brooksley Born phenomenon. Six months after I wrote that blog entry I am still getting over 100 hits a month on that one entry. By the way, no other entries are successful. :)
So... I'm guessing this might help my blog numbers:
Jack Johnson's Talk of the Town was my first new song in this later part of my life which I loved so much that I decided to listen to more and more newer type songs, which I term "coffeehouse" after the station I was listening to. This still remains my favorite Jack Johnson song, and it still moves me.
Posted earlier in a different version, here is a version from AOL sessions.
Feeling better and better. Maybe I'm at the crossroads...
I realized. in my other posts, that I'm relearning long forgotten economic theory bit by bit. I'm basically familiar with theory, it's the details that I have forgotten so badly. I really did have to study harder than anyone else to be able to remember it during the test and not be nervous taking the test. Quite a combo... :)
Anyway, I'm feeling groovy...
52nd Street Bridge (attribution unknown, sorry, I lost it)
This is just a beautiful picture, I left it oversized.
This song has been in my head since the last post. Since it had very little to do with the post I decided not to post it. But this song has been running around in my head and I even found myself humming it at innapropriate times where I work. So here it is in a much better version than that released on the radio. Much of the appeal of James Taylor had always been in live peformance. My love for him grew immeasurably after seeing him in performance long ago and far away:
Gregor Mendel was a hero of mine in my childhood. This was not because I cared deeply about genetics, but about science. Mendel's theories coupled with Charles Darwin's theories would be a revelation to any child seeking knowledge. I never really liked the biography of Darwin much but I was inspired by Mendel. Many religious figures of the 19th century had the resources, time, and freedom to think. This was a rarety in that era but it is not in our own. Yet, sadly...
Spine-tingling railway sleepers ---
Sleepy houses lying four-square and firm
Orange beams divide the darkness
Rumbling fit to turn the waking worm.
Sliding through victorian tunnels
Where green moss oozes from the pores.
Dull echoes from the wet embankments
Battlefield allotments. fresh open sores.
In late night commuter madness
Double-locked black briefcase on the floor
Like a faithful dog with master
Sleeping in the draught beside the carriage door.
To each journeyman his own home-coming
Cold supper nearing with each station stop
Frosty flakes on empty platforms
Fireside slippers waiting. flip. flop.
Journeyman night-tripping on the late fantasic
Too late to stop for tea at Gerard's Cross
And hear the soft shoes on the footbridge shuffle
As the wheels turn biting on the midnight frost.
On the late commuter special
Carriage lights that flicker, fade and die
Howling into hollow blackness
Dusky diesel shudders in full cry.
Down redundant morning papers
Abandon crosswords with a cough
Stationmaster in his wisdom
Told the guard to turn the heating off.