Sometimes My Heart Beats Wide
The Melvins show pounded my head. The double whiskeys that were being ordered to stay warm ran amok and then, as if scared suddenly by large hounds, bolted and sought refuge in the farther recesses of my brain stem. Crouching there, pensive and ridiculously giddy, it slowly began to spread out as the coast cleared, forming a thin golden coat around my dome. I picture it not unlike the thick brown haze that falls over the San Gabriel mountains – creeping upon Los Angelas everyday.
The intoxicating layer worked to welcome and strengthen the beautiful and brutal signals The Melvins were showering upon us. The happy small crowd of about 200 or so made it seem as if we were someone’s basement in the heart of Aberdeen in the early ’90’s. Sensational stuff. Many of the unfortunates who were not able to get into the show were listening in on the other side of a mobile phone. Apparently, cell phones have replaced bic lighters as the instrument you thrust into the air when the band is good and you are powerless to use proper judgment on important matters, like – how to respond and appreciate in a forthright manner. But it’s a digital age baby and some folks need these toys. Everyone around me had digital cameras. There must be a thousand digital images of the show somewhere. But the creeps with the cameras must be hoarding them cause I can’t find any online.
The show came at a crucial time as I am hunkered down in a serious development run. All bets are off. I am in the mighty throws of a design/coding orgy, trying to meet the baffling timelines and deadlines of the good people who pay me money. These are weird times in the production cycle. When you write code all day, it’s all you can see after awhile. It mutates and begins to take on strange geometrical forms. It’s no longer just lines of code but big beautiful shapes and patterns that you can arrange to make intricate illuminate manuscripts. But the work can sometimes pose a labyrinth and that’s where the fun really begins. That’s what keeps you on your toes. You leave work frustrated at the inability to find simple solutions and workarounds only to discover them in a Jack London short story or from the bitter taste left in your mouth after licking an envelope. Today one answer came while removing the snow from in and around my license plate. Something in the snow/license plate relationship answered a style-sheet problems that has vexed me for 24 hours now. Back to it.
“All craftsmen share a knowledge. They have held reality down fluttering to a bench” — Vita Sackville-West