One more day

I’ve cycled through probably every emotion during this campaign, and have come to settle on terrified. Honestly, I’m just scared. One line from this song keeps sticking with me – “I’m frightened by those who don’t see it.”


I’ve given up social media except for Instagram. Thank God for puppies, kitties and landscapes. Here’s a few accounts that give me that “Calgon, take me away” high:

@barkbox – makes me laugh out loud #literallythatsme

@corgnelius – Corgis and the best hashtags

@harlowandsage– why can’t my dogs get along like these guys? Plus Harlow the Weimaraner gives the best face.

@21stcenturyyokel  – home base for mysadcat and his cat compatriots, plus gorgeous views of the English countryside and the animals wandering about. I want to go to there. Also psychedelic folk music, vintage vinyl and books. It’s got everything.

@flora.forager – art made from nature. So, so pretty.


Music Monday, August 30

I’ve been trying to get more exercise lately so I’ve been walking after work. Instead of music I’ve been listening to podcasts and today I finished up Marc Maron’s WTF podcast with Sturgill Simpson. In it he mentions the ACM completely ignoring both him and Jason Isbell, who submitted his album for consideration for their yearly awards shindig and was ignored.

Then when I got home a friend had posted about Sturgill on FB:

I’m firmly Team Sturgill here. I can’t recognize what passes for mainstream country music these days. It’s mostly Processed Music Product and it makes me sad. I grew up with country music all around me – you couldn’t escape it in 1980s Tulsa. Once I got out of Oklahoma I avoided it like the plague, partly as a reaction to all the people who, upon learning I was an Okie, assumed I loved Garth Brooks.  Then in the mid 90s a friend dragged me along with her to see the Old 97s at the 9:30 Club in DC. Alt-country, y’all-ternative, whatever, I loved it. Then came Slobberbone and the Drive-By Truckers, Wilco, Ryan Adams, Centromatic. And then into bluegrass, back to classic country, and now Jamey Johnson and Sturgill Simpson. I can’t put my finger on it but I feel like there’s a good twinge of punk in some of these artists, like the Avetts or Shovels & Rope.  Like the Punch Brothers they don’t fit neatly in a box. Sturgill’s new album is all over the place, in a good way. It’s rich.


And here he is with Colbert at Waffle House because it makes me laugh: