1139 More Snow

Monday, February 26, 2007

I cleared the driveway this afternoon. Then it started snowing again - tiny flakes, gently. I checked the TV weather reports, the weather radio, channel 10 online weather alerts (they brag that they are specific to my mailbox!), and AOL. They all say it will snow off and on all night, but the total accumulation should be less than an inch. I've got over two inches out there now (11:20 pm). We've got the rest of the night to go.

I don't understand.

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The IGA didn't have any cracked corn left, so I bought a bag of sunflower seeds. If the turkeys don't like that, I'll try the Agway for corn tomorrow. I like to keep the wild turkey population high and close because they eat ticks. Anything that eats ticks is worth encouraging. Even if they do wake me up too early.

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Several other bloggers, women only a little younger than I, are all excited about rock concerts, and agonizing about feeling "too old" to go to them. I think maybe I've always been too old.

FirstWoman was very into the music scene in NYC in the late '60s and the '70s, and she asked me the other night if I was familiar with this or that musician. I explained that back then, I was being indoctrinated into The Company, learning how to wear three piece suits and parrot the line. It was a whole different scene.

When Daughter was about fifteen (and I was about 46), she went to her first big concert, held in like a stadium near the city or whatever. Afterward, she asked if I had ever been to a rock concert, and I said, "Well, no, not like yours. In my day, they didn't do these huge things where you can't see and can't hear. It was always in small clubs, or small theaters, or at colleges."

"Well, (condescendingly), did you ever go to any of them?"

"Yeah. A few."

"Anyone I'd recognize?"

"I think you'll recognize one. It was in 1968, a small room in the Armory in Kingston, maybe 200 people. I was in the third or fourth row. Folding chairs set up on the floor, close to a very small very low stage."

"Well, who was it?"

(...drum roll, please ...)

"Jimmi Hendrix."

"Wow!" She was very impressed. Even a little jealous. Suddenly her mother's "cool factor" shot way up, and even more when I admitted that "Yes, he did destroy a guitar. A piece flew right past my head."

(I was equally impressed that she knew who Jimmi Hendrix was!)

I saw Herbie Hancock at about the same time, at the performing arts center, but she didn't know who he was. And a bunch of well known folk singers, which were more my style anyway, but who were unknown to Daughter.

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You know, if Jimmi were still alive and still performing, she wouldn't have been so impressed. I guess it's better to have seen a legend than an institution, and better to be an institution than a legend.
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