Yesterday, being a Tuesday, meant there would be a night concert in the Half Shell at the park, an event that happens every Tuesday in July and August. One of the perks of living in a very small town, is this:
People come, claim their territory in the early morning, then go about their day. In the evening, they come back and their blankets or chairs are right where they left them. I think that's really cool.
I also think the blankets look like an impromptu quilt, colors blending or clashing, the art changing each week, depending on who got their spot first.
The Half Shell has amazing acoustics. One day last week, as I was walking along the river with the dogs, I gave a shout to the boys right in front of the shell. The reverb was incredible, my voice filling the air, coming from all sides. It totally freaked out the dogs...they couldn't figure out where to turn.
The little stand on the slope is where they set up for the lights and stuff.
I was at the park really early--before 9:00am--because it was going to be very hot. A few hours after this shot, there won't be any grass visible, and the walkway along the top will be lined with chairs.
And nothing is stolen or moved or disturbed.
So, the boys and I carry on past the music area and cruise beside the river. The water is very low, with big tufts of river grass growing in the shallower areas. The air was very still and humid, too.
The bridge over the south fork of the river. It's not in any way an attractive bridge, but I liked the reflections in the water...
Right about here, my MP3 player craps out. I shake it, wave it around, bang it on a tree. Nope. Dead and done. Why is everything in this country disposable? Is nothing made to last anymore? Oh, wait. It says on the back of my player that it's made in...guess. Really, just take a big ol' guess where it was made.
I come home and after more attempts at resuscitation, a bit of pissing and moaning, I give up and do an internet search, read a bunch of reviews, blah, blah, then head to Costco this morning for a new player. I find one that's reasonably priced, has a few more bells and whistles than the old one, and after a lengthy conversation with two guys standing in the aisle where I am, I buy this teensy little SanDisk player.
Home again, I give the boys their lunch, then want to get the new player up and running because I have a bunch of music I have to load and I don't want to spend the whole day doing it.
Ten minutes later...
Seriously. They can't make the equipment last longer than a few months, fuck no, but the packaging will last until the earth has been swallowed by a black hole!! I was getting really, really cranky. I used scissors, a paring knife, my Leatherman, and I still couldn't break through the wrapping. Temper flaring, I began to chew it off. What the hell, right? Nothing else was working.
Finally...and yes, if you look closely, those are teeth marks...
Exhausted, I'm going now to load my music. Hopefully there's something in my playlist that will soothe the savage breast, because I'm still fuming--and I might have cracked a tooth...