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For all you Douglas Adams fans
May. 14th, 2001 09:48 amGo to Audiogalaxy , type in "Douglas Adams" and start downloading the radio show. I'm officially in love all over again.
I remember finding out that the Hitchhiker's Guide originally started off as a radio show from Neil Gaiman's book on Douglas Adams-- i never knew until then. Hell, i didn't know Neil Gaiman had written a book on Douglas Adams until a few years ago. Wish i could remember the title, it was quite good.
I remember borrowing the tapes from tGN and driving hither and yon in the Dart, listening to the adventures of Arthur and Ford and the gang. I loved their voices-- they were perfect-- but what i would rewind and listen to over and over was the theme music: a kind of twangy funky banjo with soarinng strings in the back. I remember going down to Knoxville trying to get into a Plant Pathology program. I failed miserably in the interview and in the swimsuit competition, but listening to the Hitchhiker's Guide, soaring around the highway in the Dart, i felt wonderful. I felt like the Dart was the Heart of Gold and it could rise off the road and fly away on that theme music and have my own adventures.
Now i just need to wheedle Vali to put the whole lot on Cd...Peaches? :D
I think i'm the only one in the LJ world who didn't go all out for Mother's Day. I felt a little twinge when i heard about people getting flowers, making dinner, taking Momma out to eat, presents, the whole nine yards, and all i did was get her a card and call her on Saturday. A very Charlie Brown moment, me on the pitcher's mound, wondering why everyone's upset that i called a game on Mother's day...
Of course, if she gives me any crap about it (she won't) i'll remind her of the time she had a choice between milk for the kids and a pack of Carltons for her, and guess which one won out? Don't get me wrong, i'm not bitter-- hell, i laughed about it when she told me about it back when i was 12 or 13. *Carlton's* though. Jesus, Mom has shitty taste in smokes. Menthols, yuck!
The menthol vs. real cigarette question must be genetic-- i can't smoke a menthol cigarette unless i'm severely desperate, but Mom and Maggie love them. Maybe it's not genetic, though-- Maggie told me she started smoking Newports so that everyone wouldn't bum smokes off her. Smart girl. Sam and Dad and I are the non-menthol sorts all the way. Weird how the entire family smokes-- well, except Dad. But i have a feeling that he'd start up immediately if it weren't for my stepmom.
I remember how grossed out Sam and I would be when Mom and Dad would both light up in the car, and we were trapped. Those little baby claw marks on the windows were ours. Sam and i used to think that smoking was the most disgusting thing you could do-- it was gross! ... and yet, a few years later we do the same thing. Mom would occasionally quit when she accidentally burned one of us-- isn't it weird that little kids and lit objects gravitate towards each other?-- but would start up again in a few days. I know people think this might be horrible, but i think it's supremely funny now, and hey, i've got no permanent scars. I'm laughing now, thinking of telling Mom about all this.
You should've seen us when me and Maggie and Mom and Shelly were together for Xmas-- you could've cut the air with a knife. It still feels weird smoking in the house, like i need to ask permission or sneak it like i'm a kid. Mom really shouldn't smoke any more though-- my lungs are still in relatively good shape, but Mom's are like tissue paper. Look at her wrong and she gets bronchitis. But she's grown up and can do whatever she wants. It's not my place to be the Mom-- that's her job! I can hear Donna saying that now...
You know, except for turning out three smokers, Mom did a good job raising us. I feel lucky that my Mom was a hardcore reader, a teacher, and thought outside the box in a lot of ways.
And here i was going to write about how i spent all weekend drinking too much beer, reading articles for my paper, and obsessively watching Queer as Folk. Kim had Due South; i had Stuart, Vince, and Nathan, over and over and over again. It's like popcorn-- you can't watch just one ep. And i love QaF2 more every time i see it.
Mondays off are wonderful things (there are advantages to working 12 hour days for my country), but now i have to get ready to go up to Philly and do more research. ack. I love going to school, it's going to get me places, but i can't wait to get some of my life back to do other things, like write that damn Golden Peacock story i have no energy for right now, or work on the website, or go out and enjoy the sunshine down in DC with C-S. Or running away from here and hitting the road to Indiana, playing some cool theme music, and soaring away to something good.
I remember finding out that the Hitchhiker's Guide originally started off as a radio show from Neil Gaiman's book on Douglas Adams-- i never knew until then. Hell, i didn't know Neil Gaiman had written a book on Douglas Adams until a few years ago. Wish i could remember the title, it was quite good.
I remember borrowing the tapes from tGN and driving hither and yon in the Dart, listening to the adventures of Arthur and Ford and the gang. I loved their voices-- they were perfect-- but what i would rewind and listen to over and over was the theme music: a kind of twangy funky banjo with soarinng strings in the back. I remember going down to Knoxville trying to get into a Plant Pathology program. I failed miserably in the interview and in the swimsuit competition, but listening to the Hitchhiker's Guide, soaring around the highway in the Dart, i felt wonderful. I felt like the Dart was the Heart of Gold and it could rise off the road and fly away on that theme music and have my own adventures.
Now i just need to wheedle Vali to put the whole lot on Cd...Peaches? :D
I think i'm the only one in the LJ world who didn't go all out for Mother's Day. I felt a little twinge when i heard about people getting flowers, making dinner, taking Momma out to eat, presents, the whole nine yards, and all i did was get her a card and call her on Saturday. A very Charlie Brown moment, me on the pitcher's mound, wondering why everyone's upset that i called a game on Mother's day...
Of course, if she gives me any crap about it (she won't) i'll remind her of the time she had a choice between milk for the kids and a pack of Carltons for her, and guess which one won out? Don't get me wrong, i'm not bitter-- hell, i laughed about it when she told me about it back when i was 12 or 13. *Carlton's* though. Jesus, Mom has shitty taste in smokes. Menthols, yuck!
The menthol vs. real cigarette question must be genetic-- i can't smoke a menthol cigarette unless i'm severely desperate, but Mom and Maggie love them. Maybe it's not genetic, though-- Maggie told me she started smoking Newports so that everyone wouldn't bum smokes off her. Smart girl. Sam and Dad and I are the non-menthol sorts all the way. Weird how the entire family smokes-- well, except Dad. But i have a feeling that he'd start up immediately if it weren't for my stepmom.
I remember how grossed out Sam and I would be when Mom and Dad would both light up in the car, and we were trapped. Those little baby claw marks on the windows were ours. Sam and i used to think that smoking was the most disgusting thing you could do-- it was gross! ... and yet, a few years later we do the same thing. Mom would occasionally quit when she accidentally burned one of us-- isn't it weird that little kids and lit objects gravitate towards each other?-- but would start up again in a few days. I know people think this might be horrible, but i think it's supremely funny now, and hey, i've got no permanent scars. I'm laughing now, thinking of telling Mom about all this.
You should've seen us when me and Maggie and Mom and Shelly were together for Xmas-- you could've cut the air with a knife. It still feels weird smoking in the house, like i need to ask permission or sneak it like i'm a kid. Mom really shouldn't smoke any more though-- my lungs are still in relatively good shape, but Mom's are like tissue paper. Look at her wrong and she gets bronchitis. But she's grown up and can do whatever she wants. It's not my place to be the Mom-- that's her job! I can hear Donna saying that now...
You know, except for turning out three smokers, Mom did a good job raising us. I feel lucky that my Mom was a hardcore reader, a teacher, and thought outside the box in a lot of ways.
And here i was going to write about how i spent all weekend drinking too much beer, reading articles for my paper, and obsessively watching Queer as Folk. Kim had Due South; i had Stuart, Vince, and Nathan, over and over and over again. It's like popcorn-- you can't watch just one ep. And i love QaF2 more every time i see it.
Mondays off are wonderful things (there are advantages to working 12 hour days for my country), but now i have to get ready to go up to Philly and do more research. ack. I love going to school, it's going to get me places, but i can't wait to get some of my life back to do other things, like write that damn Golden Peacock story i have no energy for right now, or work on the website, or go out and enjoy the sunshine down in DC with C-S. Or running away from here and hitting the road to Indiana, playing some cool theme music, and soaring away to something good.
