Ghostwriters in the Sky

 

This morning Travalon and I went down to the dock, and we saw the wood ducks. He took some photos, which I will post soon. Then he left to go to Patrick Marsh to go birdwatching, Lazy Lake in Fall River to go fishing, and Columbus to go antiquing. I went downtown to meet Tiffy, and the traffic was horrible, but we weren't sure why. (She got caught in it too.) The weather was surprisingly warm, so we ate outside at the Globe, and then we got bubble tea and went up to the roof of her sister's building. We came back to my place and went out onto the dock, where we saw blue-winged teals and were attacked by gnats. We also heard the eerie music made by the wires on one of the boat lifts as they vibrated in the wind. I thought it sounded like Tibetan monks, but Tiffy thought it sounded like Native songs, so we joked that it was the ghosts of the Ho-Chunk who used to live here. It had cooled off by then, so I decided to wear my argyle beret.

When Travalon came back, we tried to go to Lola's for a very early dinner, but even at that ridiculously early hour there was a ninety-minute wait, and we didn't have that kind of time. We ended up going to the Turkish restaurant on Monroe Street where we had brunch last Sunday, and we all had lamb. We had a lot of time and not far to go, so we walked across the street to the ice cream shop and indulged. I asked if I could get a child's sized cone, and they said sure. Perfect! I don't love how ice cream places always try to give you a ton of ice cream. I had Zanzibar chocolate, which is the darkest chocolate flavor they have. 

Then Travalon dropped us off at the Baroque concert at the little Episcopal church on Regent Street where they had Bach Around the Clock. This group almost always performs there, and they tend to play stuff by obscure composers that make you think, "No wonder he's obscure." The first piece was by a composer who died in 1630, yet he published it in 1641. Tiffy and I puzzled over this, and I said, "Well, I was planning to keep writing after I die." She said, "A ghostwriter?" and I said, "Damn straight. Haven't you heard of ghostwriters in the sky?" So then we were trying not to laugh during the piece. There was a Bach concerto for viola de gamba, which Tiffy noted in amazement has seven strings. That's nothing - my sitar has eleventy million strings, which is why I still can't figure out how to play it. I had not heard of most of the composers on the program, but the soprano did sing a song by John Dowland, and one of the harpsichordists played a suite by Handel in F# minor. Whatever this harpsichord was tuned in (Werkmeister?), it was not equal temperament, and that key (which I had thought all Baroque composers avoided) sounded as out-of-tune as those self-playing orchestras at House on the Rock. Tiffy noted that even the harpsichord itself seemed to be complaining on certain notes. I do love the sound of the harpsichord, but yikes. 

Meanwhile, Travalon was at Leopold's, and he brought us both decaf pandan lattes when he picked us up. Yum! I told him that in the middle of a flute piece I was really enjoying, I almost burst out laughing thinking about that ridiculous AI depiction of me with six argyle berets, and we both started singing, "She wore an argyle beret!" You know the tune, "Raspberry Beret" by Prince. I grew up in Minnesota, so I am contractually obligated to love Prince. Besides, his music is amazing. I do actually have a raspberry beret, and it may in fact have come from a second-hand store, but right now I am just loving my argyle one.

Famous Hat