Robert (gurdonark) wrote,

when desperation takes hold of your nose

Yesterday morning my wife and I drove to the Dallas Arboretum. The aboretum featured the first day of its Spring Dallas Blooms festival. They had planted thousands upon thousands of tulips, as well as tens of thousands of violas, and jonquils the size of Nebraska. I wished I had a camera to capture on film the color that my eyes captured.

In the enclosed building, the Dallas Bonsai Society had a display. When we entered, the fellows game us little raffle tickets so that we could vote on our favorite one. I had hoped that this was the precursor to an actual bonsai raffle, but it turned out that we were not hoping to win a miniature loblolly pine, but only serving as a kind of "People's Choice" awards. The trees stood for our attention, rather like American Idol contestants standing while dial-in numbers flash on screen, after having mangled Hall and Oates' "She's Gone". I love bonsai, but in point of fact, when my brother and his wife bought me a gift certificate for a bonsai two decades ago, I used it to buy a book on bonsai. I know my limitations, and my thumb is only green for succulents and the easiest of tropical plants. Besides, the miniature jade tree gifted to me last year by the kindest of friends looks like a bonsai, but rewards my rather laissez faire care philosophy.

We stopped for lunch at Pollo Fiesta, which to people on the west coast could be described as "El Pollo Loco i na local chain setting the way it was when it first emerged from east Los Angeles", wihle to folks in other regions, I'd say "the best kind of flame-grilled chicken done in the overlooked but compelling style of northern Mexico--healthy, heart-warmning, and a kind of religions experience, only with culinary delight rather than a visage of the Madonna". We really enjoyed it.

My wife had a hair appiontment, and I occupied idle hours polishing up a remix I did of a French singer's spoken word track on dmusic. I do not have much goth side, but the remix is as close as I come. It's called "Serenity Remix by Gurdonark" (my own title, actually was "Serenity--Electro-goth remix") and it's located at Lise's dmusic page. For whatever reason, the pop song which Lise had sent me for an ambient collaboration we're doing morphed into something raucous and electronic, so I just went with the flow, married one of her spoken word tracks to it, and if the word is not "voila!",then it might be whatever the French phrase is for "almost voila".

I took Ted and young Bea for a walk around Glendover Pond. Two toddler girls came up to them to say "hi", and were rewarded with my dogs' typical child-loving enthusiasm. We saw two sets of mallards on the tiny park pond,
and enjoyed the 70 degree weather. One of our new crape myrtles came out in leaves today, signaling its survival of its crucial first winter. We await now if our other new one will leaf out and pull through.

I sat down to watch "Jason and the Argonauts" on Turner Classic Movies, which seems a much more fun film to me at 46 than it did to me even at 14. I believe that what the world needs now, in addition to love, sweet love, is
more stop-action animation of fantasy odd creatures. In point of fact, though, I fell asleep in mid-movie, to be awakened by the wonderful advent of a "drop in" by our friends Scott and Donna. We all had a great visit, even as Jason had the swordfight with the smiling skeletons. I remembered that I had the boxlet of nose flutes I ordered had sat, unexplicably but characteristically, unopened. I retrieved a few, and Scott and I began to play.

Scott is, of course, the other band member of "Gurdonark", which is rather a reality paradox, because Gurdonark is also a solo act. He's one of those truly musical people who works a day job in a non-musical field. He was able to make many more notes than I could on the nose flute, but as we both played, I began to get the hang of it. Our high point for the afternoon was a duet of "Smoke on the Water". Let me be the first to tell you that
on a nose flute, this Deep Purple classic has a real metal urgency.

I got out my little portable battery-operated digital recorder, and had Scott play 30 seconds of an impromptu original song for me. Later, I used my sampler and a bit of native creativity to create a song that sounds nothing like a nose flute impromptu, and posted the result, "The Tire Explodes (whth band member Scott M on lead nose flute)" in my new album, "Subtle Precautions" at, at Absurd Music Dot Com. I like the way that it goes from nose ambience to dark ambience.

We all went to Genghis Grill for an early Mongolian BBQ dinner. I over-indulged, which causes me to worry that I gained weight notwithstanding my Weight Watchers regime. I go this afternoon, after three weeks of absence on trips here and there, to find out the sad tale of the scaly tape.

We all had a wonderful time, and yet all got home quite early, which is ideal. Then I finally mailed to ghostsandrobots a mildly belated payment for her very good poetry chapbook. She is the "real deal" when it comes to putting poems onto pages capably. On a side note, I realize that I write so few checks nowadays for things that I am thrown for a loop when I cannot use paypal for anything.

Now I have imsomnia, which I have used profitably by writing record reviews praising the new Bosque Brown and Liz Phair albums, and also rampaging to other worthy sites on missions entirely benign but educational.

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