Last night, my wife and I went on a shopping adventure in the Galleria-Post Oak area of the city, looking for Jean Michel-Jarre and Michael Oldfield CDs to replace the ones I’ve allowed to get scratched well before I got my lifetime’s listening enjoyment out of them (or get them ripped into MP3 format).
Best Buy had “Tubular Bells” and no Jarre.
Barnes and Nobles had “Magnetic Fields” and the compilations, but no Oldfield.
So I do my usual and pop into Amazon this morning, and sure enough, everything is there. From one end of the discography to well after each jumped the shark.
Okay, so the shopping trip also included some other things, such as a trip to The Container Store for a plastic container that the cedar planks I use for grilling still won’t fit into, and then Williams-Sonoma for cedar planks that won’t fit in the container, and so on. There were a few other stops, but by then my caffeine had run out and I was in that weird fog of zombietude before getting a recharge.
But the idea of going hunting for music at the major chain stores and thinking you’ll find much of a selection beyond the here-and-now is pretty much a thing of the past with Amazon and iTunes and such.
I remember back when it was that the album hadn’t been remastered and sent off to production yet. When you’d think of a CD as “not available yet” instead of “no longer in print” or “go hit a specialty shop” or “it’s either used or download time.”
Specialty CD store? Used?
Ick. Those places have more germs than fresh-bagged spinach and lettuce.
The reason for all of this is that I’m a horribly difficult person to shop for when it comes to presents, having been the cause of many an argument and disruption in the bliss that is my marriage. (Nobody drops by and visits at random, and Karaoke is most fun at a Karaoke bar, so what good was a Karaoke machine when I just sing along badly to WinAmp?) So, it’s just easier to hand me gift certificates or drag me along in a half-conscious fog and then count of the fact that I won’t remember most of what was purchased when I come around.
Which is what happened last night. I’m bedazzled by the fancy lights and things, stumbling around and occasionally needing to prop up on a freestanding display while giving simple answers like Captain Pike in the Star Trek Pilot… one grunt for yes, two grunts for no.
Can’t buy things for the cats, despite the fact that things for the cats end up being things for me. It’s got to be for me and me alone, it seems.
I do such a horrible job of keeping the Amazon wishlist up to date, forgetting to stick a few token useless things like Lego Mindstorms NXT (to build a wireless cat-tracking catcam tank) or those albums I mentioned earlier. And asking for useful things like socks and underwear and new shoes is far too practical for consideration as a gift (How many sweaters did I get for Hannukhah over the years?).
Okay, so the umbrella I’ve got is handy and useful and practical, but I thought I’d lost it, bought another, and now I have two of the same umbrella with me at all times (Ever gone Darth Maul on a thundershower?).
Or I end up buying the thing for myself that’s the obvious gift, since I’m so impatient and flighty. The garlic roaster, the IR webcam, the USB fishtank, the USB missiles, the Panasonic webcam, and some other recent purchases were all on my various informal wishlists that, thanks to online commerce, didn’t remain on those lists for very long.
I was supposed to come up with a shopping list of parts for a new podcasting setup, but didn’t get those in time so they could be ordered. By the time Christmas rolls around, I’ll likely have spend blogging revenue checks on that for myself… once again, defeating the concept of wanting things and needing things and then not waiting to get them myself… and podcasting rigs are nothing more than Karaoke setups sung to RSS, right?
Also, I bought a stuffed manta ray toy for Nardo off of the wishlist. That shows impatience and buying things for the cats instead of myself – doubly-bad me!
And that’s an insight into the world of the not-so-typical, rambling pain in the ass 37 year-old American male.
Oooooo….kaaaaaaayyyyyyyy. Hey Lair, meds are a GOOD thing.
First!!!!
Shopping is for school girls and homos…period!
Happy birthday, Lair!
First of all, Captain Pike didn’t grunt, he merely flashed a light. Although it might have been a far more effective episode had he grunted, or perhaps emitted some sort of Alabama squeel from time to time for no other purpose than the shear shock value.
Second, no one actually listens to Jean Michel-Jarre. That was just a cruel joke that got out of hand. College guys in the ’70s would leave Jean Michel-Jarre albums and Mahavishnu Orchestra albums conspicuously lying about to make college chicks think they were deep and actually cared what they had to say. Of course, no one actually listened to them (the records or the girls) and once the college chicks left the room, it was back to Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith and Angel records. However, history has since been revised to omit the existence of Angel, as once everyone sobered up no one in their right mind was actually willing to admit to listening to the group. In fact, many have paid good money to have songs like “On The Rocks” and the Angel remake of “All The Young Dudes” forever purged from their memories.
Jean Michel Jarre
I’m only familiar with his early stuff on the Dryfus label. I still think his first album ‘Oxygene’ was his best. Oxygene does sound a lot like Tangerine Dream’s ‘Stratosphere’. Most of my familiarity with electronic music is in the late 60’s through the 70’s to the early 80’s. Never could get into the whole new age thing though.
Son of Bob
Angel!! Ouch my head hurts.
I totally forgot about those guy’s. They were kind blend of all the worst characteristics of progressive and pop metal. A horrible cross between White Snake and Styx. Somebody cut off all that damn hair and donate it to breast cancer victims.
Back in the day, we used to have stereo wars with people who played that crap. After a few hours of putting up with the latest pop metal blasting from the neighboring building we would launch a sonic counter attack. Those old Klipsch speakers absolutely ruled. About 20 minutes torturing them with the Stooges or PIL and the little wimps would call the cops.
Holy crap, Jean Michel-Jarre and Mike Oldfield references. Tubular Bells is one of the greatest albums. Somebody even through out a Tangerine Dream reference. This is gonna make me did into my CD collection tonight and change the music in the MP3 player.
Neo,
“blend of all the worst characteristics of progressive and pop metal” – Yes, that’s them. Exactly.
My therapist says it’s a good idea to be honest with people and admit that I used to listen to them. I have no idea what I was thinking at the time. My only excuse was that I had a massive album collection and listened to a lot of good music as well. Perhaps this would be a good time for me to just say “I’m sorry” to anyone who might have been driving by my house while I had the windows open proudly playing songs by a band who’s guitar player’s hair was silkier than my wife’s and who’s first name was “Punky.” To all, I’m sorry.