2025, August 21th

Today is pretty fun. I'll go over what happened briefly before I get into the meat and potatoes of this thing.

I went to the library to find Heavy Traffic and perhaps a writing book by Kurt Vonnegut Jr., specifically put together by his wife, however I didn't find either. I instead left with some interesting looking Chinese movies, a fat book on underground comix, and a raunchy gay movie. Joy!

I then went to this store next to a local comic book shop -- which mainly has figures and prints from local artists -- and got an old Juxtapoz issue. Ended up spending maybe fifteen or twenty minutes talking with the cashier. I wore my Ministry shirt, AKA my "I'm feeling social and want people to strike a conversation with me" shirt. I am amazed by how frequently this works.

Blew $40 on colored pencils and got lunch at a local kombini. $65 lighter in total. Life is good.

Anyway, what I wanted to talk about here was how dificult listening to music in my car is. Which has, oddly, opened up more music possibilities for me.

I drive an old 1999 Dodge Durango, a large red beast of a car that I was not fond of when I initially got it. It was, however, free, so I couldn't complain too much. It's grown on me like a cancer.

Before, say, two or three months ago, the speakers were shot. The car has switched hands several times, so someone along the long line of owners blew out the speakers. I got replacements as a gift. Lord, when I tell you how much of a relief it was to have speakers that not only sounded normal, but didn't make loud gunshot-like sounds when the volume was too high, you would not believe me.

Unfortunately, the CD player has always been testy, and it's only gotten worse. It will randomly stop whatever I'm playing, especially if the disc hasn't been in for too long. God forbid I drive over a slight bump. I've been using one of those cassette adaptors and playing music from my iPod, however I forget to charge it a lot and it doesn't like charging in cars for whatever reason. Voltage, I'm assuming. I now keep a discman in my center console, just in case.

No, I do not have a smartphone.

So, in need of having some background noise sans advertisements (sometimes radio is a bit too overstimulating), I've been listening to a bunch of cassettes that my dad has accumulated over time from my g-paw.

My g-paw (of no relation to my dad), who used to run a pirate radio show, is a music collecting and compilation-making fiend and often gives away surplus CDs or cassettes that he has no room for. I'm always willing to listen to whatever he likes because he knows his shit.

A few of the compilations I've listened to so far weren't quite my cup of tea, however it's somehow creatively invigorating to listen to something put together with intent. Today, though, I decided to listen to an ambient compilation that he had and FUCK is it good. I put it in because I saw Brian Eno and The Future Sound of London and it does not dissapoint.

I think I'm able to appreciate it even more because I found it organically. For whatever reason music sounds better when in its own context. When you own it. There's always a sense of insecurity I feel whenever I stream music or a movie that makes me unable to enjoy it to its full extent, because I know its place on whatever service it's hosted on is finite. Nor does it feel quite as personal as enjoying it standalone, without the noise of thousands upon thousands of other things demanding your attention.

Though, good music often makes me speed... Perhaps there's unintended consequences of getting better speakers.