this morning, on the way out of my current homestead, i heard the most amazing, unexpected tunes floating up my block. it was the blues (!), classy, classic, with a sort of contemporary deep house-y twist; really just mind-blowing and perfect and i wondered who in God's name was letting loose with such perfection this early in a daylight savings morn on my block. i appreciate where i live, but usually the tunes blasting that early are the random reggaetons blasting out of souped-up wheels and tinted windows that i inadvertently start salsachachachaing to as they whiz by. but, no...the blues.
it's morning, it's glorious, i'm in a touch of a bad mood because it's daylight savings and i can't even write to anyone to complain about the useless strain it puts on my life for the good week or so that it takes for my circadian rhythms to get shit back in tock (i mean, who could i write to?? God? the UN??) - and oh, that, plus i'm STILL trying to figure out LOVE and you know what, it might really just involve another four letter word that doesn't even have an e or a v or an o or an l in it, so there i am all grumpysville and here comes the blues: goooooood. morning.
as i trip-putzed down the block at 750 which actually should have been 650 therein i still actually would have been sleeping had it only been yesterday, the source of these fantastical tunes gradually came into focus: a new york city department of sanitation......garbage truck. yup, there they were, those men in green or orange, i can't even remember anymore, scurrying around the back of their truck, muscles a-bulging, bags a-heaving, crewcuts all over the place, scooping up my trash from all of last week that i finally got around to disposing of, and from the open doors of the truck's cab: THE SEXIEST MOTHER FUCKING BLUES TO EVER TOUCH MY SOUL
what the fuck. seriously.
it's morning, it's glorious, i'm in a touch of a bad mood because it's daylight savings and i can't even write to anyone to complain about the useless strain it puts on my life for the good week or so that it takes for my circadian rhythms to get shit back in tock (i mean, who could i write to?? God? the UN??) - and oh, that, plus i'm STILL trying to figure out LOVE and you know what, it might really just involve another four letter word that doesn't even have an e or a v or an o or an l in it, so there i am all grumpysville and here comes the blues: goooooood. morning.
as i trip-putzed down the block at 750 which actually should have been 650 therein i still actually would have been sleeping had it only been yesterday, the source of these fantastical tunes gradually came into focus: a new york city department of sanitation......garbage truck. yup, there they were, those men in green or orange, i can't even remember anymore, scurrying around the back of their truck, muscles a-bulging, bags a-heaving, crewcuts all over the place, scooping up my trash from all of last week that i finally got around to disposing of, and from the open doors of the truck's cab: THE SEXIEST MOTHER FUCKING BLUES TO EVER TOUCH MY SOUL
what the fuck. seriously.
