Sinister: what's your middle name? I haven't got one!

[Sarah Garrett Sonner]

(IF ON A SUMMER'S DAY A TRAVELER)

Petals,

What's your name? Who's your daddy? It's the time of the season for hauling 
my stuff thousands of miles away to move to a new place, as some of y'all 
are also doing. My road trip west (from Maryland to Colorado) begins this 
very day, and I'm fucking scared to drive so far, so I thought I'd take a 
second of it to think about the things that we have done these past years. 
Ah, listalgia has been upon me like ink on a polaroid. Ooh, here's one...

THE BEST THING EVER

Here we are on my last evening in London, on top of Primrose Hill, where the 
heat of the day has gone and the light is rapidly fading. A fierce playoff 
of portable, battery-operated air hockey is being fought between Greg and 
Ken, punctuated by their ladylike noises of distress. Liz (she's 
multilingual, you know) has just said "more tea, vicar?" and proferred 
beverages in the classiest of all plastic glasses. Marianna and Stevie and 
recently deported David are lounging on the grass, talking of sandwiches and 
songs that stick in their heads and other pleasant things, while I am 
scanning the skyline and counting all the London monuments I neglected to 
see in the past year, resolving I'll come back to find them all somehow. 
This picture is underexposed...

THE COLOR OF RED

A little while ago Paul wondered: "Also, if its red knicker day soon, is 
there going to be else to be on the 5th birthday?" And I respond:  red 
shoes! They are the answer for many things: gloomy moods, fashion 
dilemmas...general lack of, er, redness... Really though, they're the 
perfect accessory. (Miss Longmire, can I get an amen!) And if they match 
nothing else, they'll match your pants. It's the way I plan to honor this 
list's grand oh five and my own grand oh three in this parish. Hmm, that 
means my time with this list has lasted longer than most other quantifiable 
things (terms of residence, schools attended, significant others, pairs of 
shoes) in my life to date...really it is like a romantic thing in that maybe 
people post goodbyes to grasp at a sense of closure--to get the last word or 
something. But haven't we all learned by now that CLOSURE DOES NOT 
EXIST...eh, right?

WITH A SHOWER OF YEAHS AND WHATEVERS

I've been spending afternoons listening to old tapes--homemade ones, not 
proper bought tapes. I've been rediscovering such puzzling gems as the one 
where I copied the self-titled Velvet Underground on one side and Cypress 
Hill's "Black Sunday" on the other, and discovering that I have a copy of 
the Nails' "88 lines about 44 women." I have also learned that the Revolting 
Cocks' cover of "Da ya think I'm sexy" rocks like it did when I was 17. And 
after all this sonic revisiting of my younger years I've come to the 
conclusion that the kinetic energy that propelled me through an eclectic 
variety of music has come to rest mostly on "indie" for the past several 
years, and this is probably where it will stay. It's a bit nice to have 
settled...and Anna in Germany, I don't think it's wrong or offensive to say 
when bands that you care about disappoint--that's what happens (to me at 
least) when I care about something: when I think it's not as good as it 
could be, I want it to be better, and there's nothing wrong with saying so. 
(Unless
(like easily embarrassed me, ugh) you unthinkingly say it to a reporter 
outside a gig who then publishes your drivel with your awful picture for all 
to guffaw at...eep.)

PEELING

I haven't heard the Peel sessions yet but that's because I'm inept with the 
interweb. Instead I had fun imagining melodies to the lyrics that David 
Moore posted. My brain somehow unconsciously sang along to them while I read 
his message. It got especially fun when I would get to a question mark and 
imagine Stuart singing that into the song. Oh the life of the mind.

FLYING OFF

I had a poem all picked out, "How to like it" by Stephen Dobyns, what with 
autumn/fall around the bend and traveling impending, but the Poetry Parrot's 
gone all shy right when I had the appropriate thing to stuff up his beak. 
Pah, he taunts me so.

Yours with transcontinental love,

xox SGS

PS:SWEETNESS
And thanks to Honey creating this place-list-thing, I know much more than 
when I first toddled out of the nursery--like how to ice skate (cheers 
Jeremy)--and so many other fabulous people and things and places than I did 
before and that are too numerous and important to name cos I'll get teary 
and I have to see to drive in a few hours. So big hugs to Honey and Linda!


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