Spring Music and Tropical Wishes

Spring is the time of music. I always listen to music, regardless of time or place. Music is one of the rare constants in my day. But spring is when it matters the most to me.

Even though spring is pretending to come to the Mid Ohio Valley, I know it's a lie. Winter will reassert itself in a few days. But soon... Soon it will be spring.

This week I've been revisiting one of my favorites, Miles Davis's Sketches of Spain. It's an incredible record, something of an oddity for Davis. It's an attempt by Davis to connect jazz and other traditions, mostly Spanish folk and classical. The first track is based on a piece by the Spanish composer Joaquin Rodrigo, who reportedly was not fond of the final result. Which is astounding to me, because I find the record to be nearly perfect. It's certainly not the modal jazz of his masterpiece, Kind of Blue. But it was perfect.

And it's a spring record. It's fun, light, engaging. Which is what spring is to me. Spring is light, fun. Spring is easy going and casual. Maybe that's why I listen to more music in the spring. My tastes range all over the spectrum, but I do find myself coming back to music that is energetic and fun. It's a nice counterpoint to my tastes in literature, I guess.

So as I post this the warm spring day has turned back into rainy, chilly winter. I knew you were a lie, fake spring. I didn't trust you. But I'm still putting on Sketches and pretending. Miles and I know the secret. It's spring when we hear it.

After Taking Several Readings, I'm Surprised To Find My Mind Still Fairly Sound

When I lead off with a Willie Nelson quote, you know I'm in trouble. Although truthfully, I'm feeling okay. I just get overwhelmed when we're all sick for a week. Especially when I start it and Jaime ends it. The parents being sick makes for a crazy household. We walk a razor's edge at the best of time, and when illness strikes, it's like Lord of the Flies around here. With extra Piggies trucked in daily.

I'm getting back to my routine, and getting the alone time that I need to focus. I'm great for a ten hour day with the kids. I don't need a ton of down time, and I can typically have a great day with them from 7-5. Then, around five or six, I start shutting down. Even Viri has figured it out. "Mama time!" I've never been a great evening person, really. I'm good for hanging out and chatting, but not much real work. It's gotten worse, lately. Age, I suppose, or some strange reverse vampirism. Either way, I need to be behind my office door, locked in, before the sun sets.

I have my digital stack of records, and a little writing, and sleep. I'm gearing up for a great old man stage, starting at 32. This is why getting married young probably saved me. I would be deep into eccentricity without a family to ground me. Well, I am deep in eccentricity, let's be honest. Hopefully the family grounds me enough that it doesn't frighten more than amuse.

The season is starting to affect me. Even though very little has changed superficially, the feel of the air says spring. It doesn't feel any warmer, but the chill in the air doesn't have the same bite as it did a week ago. Our illnesses are behind us, hopefully, and we're ready for a nice spring. I have a lot to do this quarter, mainly preparing Viri for school. He is already an expert at his letters and numbers. Now I need to work on his social skills. Mainly, using the potty when he needs to and not calling people 'hippy' at the drop of a hat. Getting him to read and write will be easy; the hard part is getting him to live in the real world. His Papa has only the loosest grasp on the concept, I don't expect he'll have a much easier time of it.

Now, a good night's sleep and an early start on the day tomorrow. Viri and I are going out for morning muffins, then off to some parks. He's finally feeling well enough to complain about being inside all week, which is a good sign for a boy. I think this week has been the most time inside he's ever had. Most days we spend about half our day at the park, or taking walks. Starting tomorrow, we're back to that wonderful pattern.