The Pontic Rhododendron, color aquatint, Peter Charles Henderson, early 19th century.
Dear Shrubbery,
Here is your song for today! It's a great favorite of mine; I often wonder what it would mean to turn my back on the mainland, and what it will take to carry on.
Cyndi Lauper's new women's rights and health fund.
Dear Friday,
Your girl is Cyndi! And, guess what else? You are the dance party day, even in Fall! Here are your dance tracks for today: One, two, & three.
Dear Skates and Skaters,
I sprained my ankle, and it has been a hilarious and very short daily skate for the past few weeks. The first day I don't think I rolled more than 8 feet out and then back! I shoved my hugely swollen foot into the boot with the laces as loose as possible, and shambled painfully up and out, with the help of my paramour. By day nine I was rolling on my own, but, never far and never well. It's feels like going back in time, to when I first tried skating- it's awkward, and clumsy, robotic and stuttering.
You should know that I did not sprain my ankle skating- I was just walking, like everybody does, minding my own business. It was a bolt from out of the blue.
If your ankle is not sprained, I hope you will go out and try roller skating! Here's a great first lesson for you. If your ankle is sprained, well, do be careful, stay off your foot, and maybe watch this video and fantasize about which color of beautiful light up wheels you might want to get!
Dear The Past,
Of course I still love you! It's just that, well, The Future keeps on calling all the time, and he offered to pay for dinner, so, well, I said yes! Wouldn't you have?
I know, I have a lot of explaining to do. It's just that there are all these new things, you know? And, I never did look that good in orange, and, yes, I know, it's just superficial, and all is passing, but, I don't always want to be the person I was! I don't see why I have to keep on going like this, just because you want me to. And anyway, The Present doesn't agree with either of you, so, I figure it's time I lived my own life.
I suppose you aren't going to want to see me anymore, and I guess I understand that; but what we had was special, it was real, and I used to love you, I really did! But, now I just feel trapped by you and threatened by your size.
I know you are going to feel hurt by this, and I am sorry, I really am; it's not you, it's me!
Dear Radio-Dodo Listener,
Check out these two songs for today: One, and two. These are from the dusty back room stacks, and I had never heard either of these versions; but I was looking, you know, like I do, for something special for you today, and I found them, just like you do when you are searching.
Dear The Future,
I wrote all this out for you, so you'd know how it was back then. But, it was lost, misplaced, and so it has remained, missing for three years. I am going to start again, from the beginning.
Here is how it really was: I was put into the care of two nice people, as a baby. My real parents' were a raven and a rainstorm. For a long time it confused me that the two nice people would tell me to 'be quiet' and not to be 'bossy,' because these words made no sense in my language. Still, we got on well enough.
I spent an enormous amount of time waiting; in cars, in parking lots. It's funny though, because I like sitting in cars, and I like parking lots too; even though there was so much time spent in them. I used to look up at the cream colored headliner of the car's backseat, and focus beyond it; the perforations in the vinyl would move towards me; I tried to get the pattern of dark holes to descend close enough to touch my nose.
When the car was moving, the moon was always with me, following for hours, never overtaking, never slipping behind, always right there.
When moving, in this way, there were so many wonderful intersections! The airplane going crosswise, just over the tip of the pine, the train on the overpass just when I was under; all these amazing nodes of space and time. Anyway, that's what I saw, and that is how I began to think.
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Dear Y'all,
This is your song of the day! It's a beauty. Let it grow on you, by playing it 6 or 7 times. For me, it has all the things I love in a David Bowie song. A kind of strange inner space that the lyricist is coming from, and all kinds of changes in intensity. I think you are going to love it!
Dear Reader,
A sort of a story for you today, which I hope will amuse you. I hope it will be a nepenthe for your weariness and sorrow.
part one:
There was a concrete driveway that sloped away from the garage- it met a large pool of macadam.
It was not a lone Victorian with lace curtains.
part two:
I was not an orphan, in a high garret.
I lived on a high plain, far from everyone; and I had a radio. A large, 1950's one, with a lot of beguiling veneer. Late one night, listening close, and secretly, I heard pilots and static. Another time, I heard Language is a Virus, and it opened a wide space of possibility.
part three:
This is maybe not yet written. It might go like this: They moved away. They packed up a big, black automobile, and they moved. They left a lot of broken dishes and a rusted screwdriver. They left a worn down broom and a broken umbrella. They left a hole where a camellia bush had grown. They left a sprinkler. They left some bent wire hangers. They left two receipts and a torn photograph of a woman on a horse. They left a photo of a man waving from an ocean liner. They left a cassette tape and a bottle opener. They moved. Away. They packed up.
Dear Radio-Dodo Heads,
Here is a great song for you, for today. If you will permit me the suggestion, I hope you will listen to it once, with closed eyes & monitors; and then, listen while watching, because it is a very enjoyable music video.
PS
Dry Cleaning is a pretty great band; try Leafy, which the one my DJ played for me last week. Knackering drinks with close friends indeed! Are there llama plushies here?!
