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no room for hipsters

the occupation of Ashley and Levon

(from Levon)

I’m taking the old Neil Young adage for a while: write a song everyday and keep it if it’s good, throw it back if not.  Part of me objects and asks what I would do with that many songs, the other part of me asks, “who says I’ll keep one?”  So I wrote some music this morning and then when I got down to what I really needed to say, decided to write a blog.  But then I needed some coffee and when I returned  from the kitchen my library book, which is due on thursday, was beside the computer and I remembered I needed to finish it.

earlier this year on Wall St.

The book is on world monetary economics from 1914 to 1944, and in my empathizing with the Great Depression I persisted in some day trading and market watching of my own, comprised mainly of monitoring the closings of my ebay auctions.  Feeling satisfied in my thrift shop treasures finding new homes, I sat off on a walk to pace my mind with the rhythm of my steps, to write that song and contemplate the folly of the last century’s central bankers.

As it turns out, neither ebay nor monetary policy are conducive inspiration for a poetic walk in suburbia on a grey December morning.  I returned to work on the music instead, and record it in garageband as to not forget it.  A few emails, more coffee.  I have about fifteen unfinished song fragments now recorded in garageband.

I’m sorry Mr. Young, I can’t seem to do it today.

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