Musically, I've been listening to a lot of jazz. Still. Why?
Is it a dead sound? Am I usurping something that has no organic connection to my life experience, aping the breakthroughs of the past out of Ludditic neglect for the dynamism of the present?
Is my connoisseurship an empty posturing? A snobbering?
I try to keep my ego out of it. Who does? Keeps what out of where?

One reason, for sure, is the proliferate nature of the jazz subsphere of the blogosphere....the mines are bearing. Also the way that jazz is sort of and seems always to have been half-obscured to the popular eye, hidden in plain sight. But am I a guardian or a usurper? Or does it matter?

Anyway. I'm starting 'Molloy' by S.B. and it is completely unlike anything I have ever read, and much simpler than I'd imagined-so far, so far that is.

I made my debut playing drums in front of strangers the other day at a bar, sitting in for a song in my friend's honky-tonk/klezmer/country rock band. My non-adherence to the drummer's directive "keep the beat" did not go over so well, but I think there were fun moments, as far as my sensativity to others' perceptions were not obliterated by self-conscioussness. Anyways, nobody got angry and punched me in the face or anything.

Went camping in Big Basin this past weekend and partied in the woods.

Musics coming.