Scraps: No Vignettes, etc.

---I almost want to change my designation of Scraps and Scribbles to "Vignettes" in honor both of NPR and of Hooper Piccolero. Cpt. BF and I braved the weather to travel to Jamaica Plain last night to show some love for Hooper and their companion bands, Ronald Reagan and Batter Recharger at the Midway Cafe. I was pretty broke, so we left after a while. Hooper's show was pretty good though not as cohesive as some of the times I've heard them perform together -- they performed one of my favorites, "No Vignettes", a piece written by M. Plummer in which M. Plummer dials up Steve Inskeep of NPR's Morning Edition and leaves a musical complaint about Inskeep's "Vignettes" on his voicemail. I anxiously await the day when Steve Inskeep calls back, and that gets incorporated into another piece. Ronald Reagan was really fun and good: NYCers, I suggest you catch up with them sometime. They're a saxophone duo who cover the awesome 80s hits that everyone knows and loves. The only downside is when you have the world's most obnoxious club owner singing along and in some cases making up his own (lewd) lyrics to the songs you know so well...

---I often write down things I think are either clever, puzzling, potentially the kernel of a good story/paper/article, or are something I want to remember. These can either be quotes, impressions, situations, or phrases and clips I've come up with on my brilliant own. This is kind of like everyone else's (by which I mean Rags & Bones's) Moleskine, only much less organized and probably stupider. So now, I'm going to dump at least one that I've had around for a while:

After talking to an older woman (much older -- 83) on the phone one day, her level of disorientation led me to wonder whether gradually growing older caused a person to feel more and more disjointed, as though you were constantly in a dream where things continue to change around you. Like Bluetooth. If I were in my seventies, and coming into contact with Bluetooth fairly infrequently, that level of technology would seem completely implausible to me. And probably when I am in my seventies and people are talking to their hands or to little chips inside their heads for communication, I will be completely kirked out and totally start acting like Life Is But A Dream. Because really, how else are you going to deal with it?