Friday morning I rose early and packed my things. I drove down Pico Boulevard towards downtown from the Westwood home of friends at which I stayed this week. I drove past the quaint Italian restaurant at which we used to eat when we lived in Westwood, and past the stores and kosher restaurants with foreign lettering in the windows. I stopped at a panaderia and got a croissant on the way. Then I ventured down to the Ronald Reagan Building.
The second appellate argument of the week was quite challenging, and then I rushed to return my rental car. I made my flight, but sadly only in enough time to get on the plane, and not in enough time to pick up a book or magazine. I sat sandwiched between a man who was somewhat large like myself only thin, and a woman with one of those cool "punkish" long hair looks with intermittent un-natural red dye on half of her locks of hair.
When I arrived home, we went to the Japanese place in McKinney for sushi. I had the dragon roll and a bit of assorted shrimp.
Then I got on garageband.com. A few people whose songs I reviewed wrote to thank me. One pointed out, though, that I had called his instrument a "guitar" when he was playing a dulcimer. I was doubly embarrassed, but I recover easily from such things.
He seemed appreciative of the effort, however wrong I got the plucking.
Three bands of the forty or so I have reviewed thus far made my review a "signature review", which means, I believe, that when you click their page you see my review prominently displayed.
I enjoy this so far very much.
I want to record more music of my own, but this time in the folk genre. I think that noise is fun, and certainly within my "no talent" skill set, but I'd like to play something a bit pretty, and to sing. I need my friend Scott M to come over and do all the hard work while I bask in the glory of assisted creation.