Things you may find interesting:

• When writing about popular music, album titles should be in italics and song titles should be surrounded by double-quotes. Apparently I’ve been doing it wrong for… oh, let’s not go into how many years. The important thing is that I know this now so I can lend some stylistic validity to the written version of the Summer Music Project commentary.
• The terms “flat” and “sharp,” when referring to musical notes, are apparently known as “accidentals.” I have not yet been able to discern the etymology for this usage; it seems an odd choice of terminology. An “accidental” is something you play deliberately in almost any piece of music, after all.
• If you want a hint about what I might be prepping for the upcoming SMP mix, it may be worth perusing my Last.fm profile. (Of course, as soon as I post this I plan to muddy the waters considerably by listening to a whole bunch of different artists.)

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have been awake for an awfully long time and I’d like to soothe my brain with notes both natural and accidental before I seek my slumber.

Well, here’s news I didn’t want to wake up to: George Carlin died yesterday.

Let’s be fair and note that this wasn’t entirely unexpected. He suffered from heart problems for quite some time, and it’s not like he was some spring chicken. He made it to 71, which is a fair bit past my own life expectancy given my genetics.

But still, this is sad news for me. Carlin played a significant role in pointing me toward my current fascination with the power of language for good or ill. He changed his style significantly at several points in his career but at every stage he liked to point out the silly and, later on, the sinister aspects of how we use words in America. Analyzing and understanding the why behind someone’s choice of words is a large part of critical thinking as applied to individuals and society.

Lest I forget: He also made me laugh. A lot. I’m a big fan of laughter. Hell, I still have portions of his routines stuck in memory, to be recited at appropriate times. Well, mostly appropriate. Okay, sometimes.

Anyway.

I think it’s time to grab a few more of Carlin’s comedy albums from eMusic…

Yesterday was a very good day, as you might expect from one which begins with pancakes (with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon) and bacon. In the afternoon, Kyla and I took Erica out to Washington Square for shopping and dining. For all that Erica pooh-pooh’d the idea of eating at a place called “Cheesecake Factory” (“I don’t like cheesecake!”) she came around at the mention of their chocolate cake selection. While she ordered a pepperoni pizza (ending up with enough leftovers to bring home and share with Alex), she did try a bite of my parmesan-crusted chicken and approved. There’s hope for her yet, I say.

There’s hope for me as well. I managed to eat only a couple small pieces of the bread, less than half of the (delicious!) pasta that came with my chicken, and enough of the cake dessert (which I’d left room for!) to feel I’d gotten my money’s worth… and still left the table without feeling the slightest hint that I’d overeaten. I weigh 240 pounds, and one of my goals is to get a handle on my eating habits. I may not be eating healthier, but I’m at least trying to eat a bit smarter. I feel good about yesterday!

We went slightly nuts at the LEGO store; Erica came away with a set which would allow her to build two different creepy bugs or an articulated snake-shaped creature. I’m certain that her mother will be delighted. I spent a bit more than originally planned, but came away with enough medieval-themed minifigs to populate the proposed 4E gaming sessions with the Sunday Evening Group. Kyla picked up a few sets in the Castle theme herself, and spent part of our Doctor-Who-watching time assembling the most sinister prison coach you’ve ever seen.

She says it’s cute. I question her judgment.

We also came away with new shades for everyone (I’d sat on mine Friday at work, Kyla’s were falling apart and Erica didn’t have any) and a new pair of jeans for myself. Not only that, but thanks to various Tri-Met drivers, Erica and I had transfers that lasted until 6pm… which is just about when we boarded the #56 for downtown. Sweet deal!

I’d say that the only downside to the day at all involved a traumatizing sight when we three were beginning our journey westward. Just as the #9 was pulling up at NE 9th and Broadway, a whole bunch of bicyclists rode by.

Naked. Butt naked.

Let’s just say that most people really are better off clothed. I’m not sure which of the three of us came away from that with the most mental scarring…

As of last night, when my daughter was formally “promoted” out of the 8th grade, I have two teenagers in high school.

I joke about feeling old, but I’ve sort of always felt old, so that’s not really what I’m going through right now. I think it’s a combination of “Hey, cool, it’s about time!” and “Whoah, where does the time go?” The most jarring part of the experience, actually, was seeing my little tomboy transformed into an elegant young lady for last night’s event.

My kids are awesome. I know I mention that often, here, but that’s because I can’t help myself. I’m also prone to pointing out other obvious facts, such as the presence of clouds in the sky or how the grass is green. You’ll just have to deal with it, gentle readers.

I came up with a crazy idea, something that would run on Fridays here every week for an extended (but finite) period. It’s not a meme (the PPF project taught me better), and it may not be everyone’s cuppa. Hell, it may not be anyone’s cuppa. It would, however, get me posting regularly again as well as giving me some practice with advance preparation and scheduling. To pull it off I’ll need to assemble notes, plan things in advance, and maybe even work up a buffer of completed material before launch.

I might even dig up a microphone for this one. Scary, wot?

If I can accomplish this, then I’ll consider something really ambitious. We’ll see.