I was able to get Apache started on the iMac after finding one typo and one bad directory link, and the permission issues were working fine, but I was unable to actually publish a calendar from the powerbook to the iMac. I have to try again tonight to find out what I did wrong. I also ordered the 160GB drive this morning, which will mean plenty of space for backups and music. Woo-hoo!
This site is just too damn funny. Wow.
Choices. Tonight is Art Spiegelman’s thing downtown; besides knowing almost nothing about the event, I’m excited to go and see him. Unfortunately, David Carson is at Villa Julie College tonight (the website sucks, and I can’t find any information on there), and we know nothing about that event other than that it’s open to the public (Spiegelman is tickets-only). That’s a tough choice, and I was leaning towards Carson until the tickets came—guaranteed seats are better than standing room only. I have my copy of Maus in my bag.
Some thoughts about Rock. This morning I drove into work and heard a song by Audioslave, the Rage Against the Soundgarden mess, and it made me kind of sad. At the risk of sounding like a fuddy-duddy, my golden age of music was roughly the end of hair metal through the Seattle sound up until about 1995 or so. During that time there was about an 80% chance that the song on the radio was something I was into. Soundgarden was a band I was into back in the late 80’s, in the Louder Than Love era, when they were getting on the snake. The Red Hot Chili Peppers were coming off the death of their guitarist and had just hired a maniacal new 19-year old with chops of fire. Rage Against the Machine were the L.A. riot of FM radio, dropping the F-bomb in the chorus of their song. Take that, FCC! Alice in Chains released Dirt, which was the pool-hall soundtrack for 1993. (The opening bass riff to Would? still gives me chills.) Public Enemy was still (kind of) a going concern. These guys all played like it meant something, and the music made a connection with me.
These days, all my heroes are older and getting into their introspective phases: Soundgarden is gone, RATM is the house band for Chris Cornell’s moody rambling, RHCP strum and sing (barely) instead of shaking my booty, Layne Staley is dead (dumbass) and other once-mighty bands have dropped off the map.
What’s my point? Well, A) my tastes in music tend towards the pop-oriented stuff; B) I’m an old man who will complain about how nothing is as good as the “good old days”; C) I’ll be the guy who buys that copy of the Singles soundtrack at your tag sale; D) It’s time to dig out some of the old classics for another listen.
The moral of the story, courtesy of an anonymous poster on the Mobtown Shank: Love the music, not the musician.