Cloister Commentary, Day 269: Crates of Vinyl and Clearasilled Zits

I’m helping a friend find homes for his vinyl collection, so I spent the morning going through the first two of four crates and doing some sorting. I had forgotten how heavy record crates were; I hadn’t moved any since I was in my forties, but damn! I’m feelin’ it as I thumb this out. Flipping through the stacks and seeing original vinyl copies of Hüsker Dü, The Replacements, Minutemen, Meat Puppets, Johnny Thunders and more took me straight back to the days when those acts were the meat ‘n’ potatoes on our dinner table. Not that I don’t play them anymore, but, to paraphrase George Jones reflecting on Hank Williams, they were everything to us.

Later, Nicole and I celebrated a couple of bits of wonderful national news–couple of zits got Clearasilled–by treating ourselves to curbside dinner, a cocktail, “Whiskers R We,” and a Jimi Hendrix documentary/concert. We then lapsed into sleep smiling.

Streaming for Strivers:

All essential music’s been digitized, right? Wrong. Found this in my friend’s stacks, though I already have a copy of my own.

Cloister Commentary, Day 166: I’m Late

“Are you ever too busy to write these,” you might ask. Well, I always write about yesterdays on my todays, and today I’ve been ON IT since I woke up at 4:30ish. I just realized I hadn’t, ahem, journaled. I’m hanging out with my mom Jane and watching Bubble Playoffs, so I must be brief.

Yesterday started pretty well. I accomplished something easy but important at work: I emailed 12 freshmen at Stephens to check on their start (students can choose to attend classes in person or on-line, with all classes available in real time on Zoom), their comfort level (Stephens is taking our health pretty seriously, and only has two recorded cases so far), and their need for tutoring. Amazingly, almost all of them wrote me back quickly with quite a bit enthusiasm for school. I will contact them intermittently just to make sure they know they have academic (and moral) support.

Then I learned Mom was having no luck simply changing her direct deposit information with the Social Security Administration, a necessity since Dad passed. She was just looking for a way to help, as my brother Brian and I have divided up the massive and labyrinthine administrative issues that confront every family when someone passes. I jumped in to help her, but met with just as much frustration–to the extent that it drove me into a moody state for the rest of the day. I’m fairly sure Nicole would agree that’s a state I seldom visit. I escaped into books and two nail-biter playoff games, including one that sent my Thunder home. I rolled over to go to sleep at a little past 11 and stared at the wall for several minutes, before, fortunately, I crashed.

To be continued.

Streaming for Survivors:

How I felt after setting up a “My Social Security” profile for Mom to no avail. Play loud.