Move along,
Nothing to see here,
Your own life … more … interesting …

I’d initially written something glib for this section, not paying it much mind.
I thought I’d explained the reason for all these album reviews earlier on in Goodbye Albatross’s life. But as the weeks ticked away and more pages filled up the archives I realised that it was probably hard to navigate to that post and get an overview of what it was all about. So I’ve transferred it too here.

Right from my school days, I’ve always been the last on to the bus. The whole social networking/blog phenomena has crested and here I am dipping my toes in the water.
I have nothing to contribute to the clamor but have added my shrill voice anyway;
“Look at me, look at me, look at me!!! ”
The bulk of this years postings have been the fulfillment of a birthday present to my oldest friend Michael. Most years I send him up a book or something similar with much of the intervening 12 months full of silence. We used to correspond regularly, across cities, states, continents, children, partners and decades. He writes beautifully and I have shoe-boxes full of tattered foolscap with Micheal’s distinctive scribbling filling up the space between the margins. Around his last birthday I thought rather than a present, I would try to rekindle that tradition. I missed it.
So I promised Michael an album a week for 52 weeks, right up until January the 14th rolls around again. But here is the real part of the gift (and it’s a present I’ve gifted myself as well). Each album is accompanied by a few paragraphs on why it was chosen, where in my history it was dragged from or why it was picked if it is too young to have history.
So far at about the half way mark, I can say it’s been a really enjoyable exercise.
I’ve always liked the Socrates quote; “The unexamined life is not worth living”.
Though its corollary, “The unlived life is not worth examining” is probably more pertinent in my case 😦 So that is why every missive must include a few pencil written pages (I’ve imposed a rule that forbids me from just printing out the journal entry). It’s important that a letter accompany the package, preferably before I transcribe it to these pages though impatience has gotten the better of me a number of times.
And that’s basically it.

Every now and then some other fancy catches my eye and sidles in amongst the music but for the main it is as you see it. I thought that with regular writing I would get my mojo back but sadly I’m still waiting. That elusive rhythm, which is the secret to all good prose continues to evade but I will be patient and hope in time, it finds me.


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