Random Neuron Firings
I’ve stopped counting these posts, heh. From now on, instead of Roman Numerals, I’ll list them as such:
- RNF again
- RNF socks
- RNF chair
- RNF liver-n-onions
- RNF etc.
For those not on Facebook, I posted a link to an article yesterday, where Harry Connick, Jr.’s appearance on American Idol was discussed. Finally — a good deed shines in a weary world. Somebody who actually knows the “Great American Songbook” gave guidance to young singers who consistently trample it with ridiculous Aguilera-esque vocal gymnastics and completely uninformed style. Somebody who actually sings the Songbook on a regular basis came to Idol to mentor these get-rich-quick schemers, and maybe teach them a little something about being a consummate, discerning performer. Cool, eh?
Well, too bad no one listened to him. Sheesh.
American Idol — and its ilk — has reduced down to this: almost without exception, he/she who has the fastest vocal runs, the loudest belt/highest tenor, and the sharpest R&B licks wins. Period. Close the book. Finis.
Speaking of Facebook: Has anyone noticed the latest craze of posting recipes? On my newsfeed, most of them are absolute sugar fests. Pies made with cups of butter, peanut butter, chocolate chips, sugar, cream cheese and Cool Whip, weighed down with 50 Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups…oy. Cakes stuffed with puddings and candy bars? “This is a great treat for the kids!” Hmmm. Now don’t get me wrong; I’d probably love them all. But it’s getting out of hand, really, as if there’s a contest to see who can post the most outrageously sickeningly sweet, over-the-top, cloying junk food recipe in existence. It just confirms the American love affair — and addiction to — processed sugar. But that’s a rant for another day.
Hey, guess what. Fourteen more days of school. Fourteen. I can do this.
Hey, guess what. Thirty-six days till we take off for the Odyssey, and till I get to BoomR’s place to make some music.
Yikes, it’s 6:05. Late for the gate. Have a great Monkday, if that is possible. Ciao!