Happy Panic Productions

What has been caught by the sparrow?

When I got off of the train this morning, there was a dead bird on the platform. Another passenger bent down, picked it up by the leg with her bare hand, and threw it into the bushes. Did she find the sight of the corpse more offensive than the touch of it? Had she never heard of West Nile?

Flashback: when I worked at Disney, the woman who worked at the cubicle next to mine was Denise. She would keep her radio on the classic rock station all day, but at an incredibly low volume. I couldn't hear it at all, except when the very highest frequencies were played.

Like many bad classic rock stations, this one ran the same playlist every single day, with only variations in the order in which the songs were played. And so every day, at some point during my 12 hour shift, I would hear the the following moments of music from the next cubicle, and only these moments: "sparrow", "marrow", and "woo-hoo-oo-oo". The first two are from Crosby, Stills & Nash's "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes." The latter is from Paul McCartney's "Maybe I'm Amazed," just the top part of the little vocal riff he does before the guitar solo. These few notes were like shifting landmarks in the vast, dark, sullen seas that were my workday.

Well, I'm back.

My class is over. Work is still busy, and it will get much busier in the fall (my boss is taking a half-time appointment, so I'll probably be taking on some of her
responsibilities). But things are relatively calmer in my life right now. So I might
actually find time to post here more often. Ah, your sighs of relief are music to my ears.