Today we had our long-ass-haul-to-Berkeley for SF Girls Chorus practice. Since we've embarked on this new adventure that requires us to be on the road a couple of hours a couple of times a week, I have been spending even more time and $$ keeping the iPods chock full of music. Honestly, as much as I love the White Album, there are just so many times I can listen to it before I want a rock to crash through my windshield and put me out of my misery. Clearly I'm no Dean since I don't think there is ANY limit to his tolerance for the Beatles, Van Morrison, Clapton and so on. The really hideous thing is his masochistic love affair with Dylan. He doesn't get that therein lies the entire purpose of the invention of the earphones. I certainly have no place criticising Dean's musical choices since I am the queen of one-hit-not-so-wonder pop. BUT. BUTTTT... I have an excuse. My primary enjoyment of music is that I like to sing along to it. So yep, that's me boppin' around in the driver's seat, embarrassing my kids and occasionally drawing the passenger in the car next to me to roll down their window and ask me if I am having a seizure and do I need them to call 9-1-1 for me?
Just stumbled across this picture from a few years back on one of our annual excursions to Canon Beach with the family. That was a good visit. I love the ocean. I mean, look at it. I want to be sitting there on the sand with that vista spread out before me when I die. If I had to guess what the Divine looks like, well that is certainly one aspect of it.
Seriously, how could such beauty be random?
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