Positively 4th Street

Either I spoke too soon, or Bob Dylan is magical, cause I found "Positively 4th Street." I think that's more of the type of song I was after. The last line even gave me a good laugh.

It Ain't Me, Babe

I will confess right now that I simply don't relate to any good guy-bashing songs. I've never had that kind of bitter hatefulness, feigned or true, that needed that sort of outlet. I'm proud of that. However, some months ago I heard Bob Dylan's version of "It Ain't Me, Babe," and suddenly felt that someone had expressed my personal feelings on the matter of smack-talk just right. I mention it now because it has been running through my head the last few days.

While this song does take some shots at the person (Babe) in question, this really isn't the focus of it. It mainy focuses on what kind of person the singer is, in effect by relating what kind of person he is not. This includes a look at what the nature of love is to him, in that it is not "perfect," and is better off for being so.

Essentially, the feeling that rings true realistically here is that when a relationship ends, the worst and yet the most respectable and amiable reason you can give for it is that the other person didn't (or never will) really love you. That can be both a smack in the face, and a sad but civil truth. And yet there is a bit of hope on the fringes of this truth as well. But wait, this describes a completely different type of song I hadn't considered before starting this blog entry. The bittersweet song. Blast! Now I'll have to retract my statements. It looks like I still don't relate to any guy-bashing songs, or the like. That's actually pretty good news. My pride remains intact.

Anyway, the lyrics to this song really are so simple and melancholy, yet very enlightening and empowering at once. And while I used to make fun of Bob Dylan's sound...I really think I like it now. Afterall, he wrote protest songs with harmonica solos in them. That is boss! At least, I'm sure that's what the kids in the 60s were saying...

Here are the lyrics, which I found on a really awesome website where you can not only listen to this song, but also a bunch of other Bob Dylan songs. In fact, I think it's got his whole collection! Plus I like the site because you get to watch a record turn while the songs play. Yes, I am that simple-minded. Too many years of school have turned my brain to goo. Gray-mattered goo.

I Just Called Myself a "Rotten Idiot"?...*sigh*

I just got off the phone with my mom, who seems to always have two recommendations when I'm feeling down...at least when I feel the need to let her in on the fact: 1) Get a priesthood blessing (which I think is a good idea), and 2) Get some depression medication (which I resent the mere suggestion of). And for some reason she seems to associate those two solutions as well, because the last time I asked my dad for a priesthood blessing, she asked if I needed medication. I actually thought it was incredibly funny, and very unamusing at the same time, if you believe that possible. The way I see it, if you know what is making you feel rotten, you ought to know how to make yourself feel...unrotten.

I'm not knocking these kinds of medications. I just think that they are over-prescribed, and over-sought. Then again, I am a prideful sort of person that would rather feel badly and think it possible to feel better if I really wanted to, than to acknowledge that trying anything beyond will power is worth a go. Or perhaps I've just listened to the Stones' "19th Nervous Breakdown" too many times...

Either way, I think that I will always shun the advice, "Go with the flow," no matter how happy or unhappy I am. What does that mean, anyway? It's likely just a useless 60s slogan that my mom is passing off for genuine words to the wise (bless her heart). Why do they call advice "a word to the wise"? Shouldn't it be "a word from the wise," or "a word to the idiot"? Hey, you can give me "a word to the idiot" anytime! Please do, in fact. I'd get a kick out of it, and might even listen.

You're on Candid Phone, Ah ha ha ha ha ha...

I was just thinking that with my little movie maker, I can easily share some Candid Phone! If you thought you were too old for prank calls to be funny, think again. Here are a couple of my favorites. If you like them, let me know and I'll post more. Good old Pat Gray :)

Thanks, Mr. Grant!

Last weekend I decided, somewhat impulsively, to buy myself a laptop. I've had a mediocre desktop, courtesy of my sister, since the summertime now. But I can't tell you how irritating it is to have to erase music files just so I can watch a movie on Netflix. It's like the computer was asking me to choose which one I loved best, my music or watching a good episode of The Office. Oooh, just for that twenty minutes I would have to erase...well, only something like, say, Savage Garden. So, it was worth it.

Anyway, this is no longer a problem now, thanks to the courtesy of a Mr. Pell Grant, who is even more charming than the infamous Carey Grant, I assure you. And now I can have every song I've ever collected over my lifetime on my computer, AND watch Netflix to my heart's content without interference. I was also able to give my desktop to my friend Heidi, whose computer met with a mysterious malfunction some time ago. I say "mysterious" because I don't know exactly what went wrong. Though, I wish it were something hilarious and beyond explanation. It was a gift I was quite happy to give, as I remember my own six years without a personal computer. I'm surprised that I pulled that off, especially with my tendency to work best at hours of the night when the computer labs on campus are closed. Or, perhaps working at those late hours is simply due to my procrastination habits.

I've got a class now where we submit comments and summaries about things we read over Blackboard for assignments, and I always submit mine within fifteen minutes of class. Last class, our teacher actually had our submission times posted on the projector screen for everyone to see. While I was ashamed (i.e. proud) that mine had been submitted at 2:27, only three minutes before class, there was a Johnny-come-lately with an impressive 2:30 submission. Ohhh....I'll show him!

Well, sorry, I like to ramble. I wanted to keep this nice and short. So, my new computer has a program to make movies, which sounds like a lot of fun. So, I thought I'd make one and post it for ya's. However, I don't have a video camera, or even a regular camera (though I do have a low-quality webcam now). So, you will have to settle with a simple slide show of pictures I took years ago from our family vacation to Mexico.

In case you wonder, I do have a thing about taking pictures of people, particularly when they are posing. I don't usually do it. I figure we go on vacation to see things other than our family. And a gringo with a lime green fanny pack just does not mesh well with the scenery. Yes, my mom does wear those. And, yes, as it turns out, not one of the pictures I took had her in it. That's actually kind of sad. But, I'm sure they were aware of my tendency when they handed me the camera and asked me to take pictures for the entire trip. Although, perhaps it was just because they didn't feel comfortable using a digital camera. My mom still isn't comfortable with it, as I've caught her using some older cameras of hers with loaded film. And while my dad claims he's fine with using it, he doesn't. Where is your sentimentality, man? Oh, but I guess it's funny in a way. Despite this tendency in my picture taking, I somehow felt inclined to include a cartoon version of myself with the lot. Uh, yeah. Um...enjoy.