Love Your Captors

Holding itself hostage is the tactic the world seems to want to take.  That's probably not the best course of action.  Before long, there's going to be an outbreak of Stockholm Syndrome.

The Numbering

A long time ago, this was something to think about.  I didn't, though.  Now, I do.

I don't try to think about it.  I don't need to try.  Lots of times, it just happens. 

List the times.  I can't.

Losing Hummingbirds

A few seconds lost in a routine can mean the difference between success and total failure.  Watching The Hummingbird Project on Netflix over the weekend, a single millisecond meant the difference between untold fortune and irrecuperable debt.  Who can put an amount on the priceless value of the future?

I Ain't Scared of Sunday Night (for now)

This may be the last time Sunday night can threaten me for a few weeks.  Barring Zeta or some other disaster changing my plans, the next few weeks promise to accomplish things put off for weeks, months, and, in a case or two, years.  Don't worry, though, I won't get in a hurry.

Don't envy me, either.  I guarantee you're better off.  If you don't think so, you're looking from the wrong perspective.  I promise.

Early Sunday Jazz Musing

Saxophonist Houston Person has managed to put out an album every 5 months on average since his first in 1966 at the age of 34.  He's recorded a total of 130 albums, 75 as leader of the band, the rest in collaboration or as sideman in another act.  At the age of 86, 2020 may be the first time in recent years Mr. Person hasn't released an album.

That's pretty prolific.  That is, until you compare it to Zoot Sims, who, in his 59 years, produced about 150 albums, 76 of which he was credited as band leader.  That's about an album every other month from the first album he put out at 34, until he died at age 59.

Comfortable Thought #5150

Lived-in is always more comfortable.  There's a balance of organized and lived-in providing the perfect amount of aesthetic appeal.  Too much living can become disheveled.  Too organized becomes sterile and uninviting.

Something needs to be out of place, but not everything. 

Make Another Pot

Worry about whatever.  I ain't gonna.  This is Friday.

Stuff will work out.  Rainfall goes into the creek, feeds the river, empties into the sea and evaporates back into the sky.  Earth is slowly moved around.  It happens.

Complexity is perception.  A simple sip of something good washes most things down.  Legs crossed and propped up on the ottoman, the world seems pretty easy.

Black and White

The Halloween season has apparently brought a number of older movies out of retirement.  Streaming services need content, resurrecting a few shot in black and white.  Otherworldly shadows exist in those movies.  It translates well in the genre.

Lighting in old black and white movies has its own dialogue. There's something dreamlike about it.  Grayscale images resemble the uncertainty in old memories, like the recollection of dreams.