Last days of sunshine

The theme of late has been amazing places right on my doorstep that until now I haven't bothered to investigate.

First victim was Woodland Park / Green Lake Park, both just a few blocks North of my apartment, and on a perfect day light yesterday, you just can't get much better.  Woodland Park has some really nice gardens with sculpted trees, hundreds of red red red roses, a fountain, dogs and their walkers, etc.  The woods between the Zoo and Green Lake remind me a lot of Wivenhoe - the leaves are all manner of colors now and dirt paths dart this way and that.  Green Lake is a premier people-watching spot as walkers, runners, bladers, boarders, cyclists, street musicians, and vendors all enjoy the seemlingly limitless, and notably magnificent vantage points.

Second victim is the American Music store on Allen and Fremont.  Though it certainly lacks the naturalistic appeal of the woods / park / lake, it more than makes up for it in sheer utility.  It's packed with guitars, pianos, drums, gear, and all the associated junk - cables, strings, books, picks, etc.  Also, it is a mere two blocks from my front door.  Yes.  It's an independent store (check out americanmusic.com) and it carries enough audio monkey-wrenchery to make my usually regular trips to RadioShack completely unnecessary.  I even already have my eyes on a Roland digital piano, but it will have to wait a few months.

In other news, I cooked for the first time since moving into my new apartment (Yep.  I've eaten out every single meal since moving here.).  I invited Keith over and prepared the standard marinated-chicken-with-jalopeno,-bell-pepper,-celery,-and-onion stir-fry.  It never fails to please.  Though, I think next time, I'll try adding some ginger.  Or maybe basil.

Also, I have decided that I am in fact an auditory learner.  Reflecting, I remembered being told that I have a 'musical memory' - I hardly ever forget a piece of music - and I realized that my talent with remembering numbers probably relies on hearing the number spoken atleast once - must be something with the rhythm of saying the numbers.  Dunno.  After having this epiphany, I tested it by trying to remember a number I had called earlier in the day (and never before).  To my own surprise, it came to mind pretty easily.  I am a genius.  Buy my book.

On the more rockin' side of things, I finally went out and bought myself a stereo.  I picked up some speakers at a rummage sale for $10 (a pair of Boston Acoustics A70s) and got a vintage analog receiver and a turntable (Philips 212) from Hawthorne Stereo ("A pretty nice place").  After jamming pretty hard last night and tweaking the cables and the levels this morning (to the sweet tunes of 'Preaching the Blues' on 90.3 KEXP), I went out and blew my savings on some records (I'll start budgeting next month, I swear.) at JiveTime and SonicBoom (both 8 blocks away).  Tragically, when I got back and tried to get my groove on, the turntable started malfunctioning.  I may end up taking advantage of the seven-day full-refund period.  I've grown quite fond of the thing during these climactic hours, I hope I still get to keep it.

I quite like the idea of having a stereo as the entertainment center of my apartment (instead of a TV).  I'm excited about sitting around and listening to Tull, Hendrix, Chet Atkins, Simon and Garfunkel, The Beatles, Zeppelin, Santana, Pink Floyd, The Who, The Ink Spots, The Mills Brothers, The Velvet Underground, Fairport Convention, and all those other bands that demand the highest possible audio quality.  At Hawthorne Stereo yesterday, there was a shelf of old radios - the kind that hark back to FDR and his 'fireside chats' or radio shows like 'War of the Words' and 'The Shadow'.  Maybe if I listen hard enough, I can will myself one of those sweet black Chevys from the old 40s ganster flicks.  Here's hoping.