Monday, March 07, 2005

Nanook of Highlandtown

First, just kidding about the Robo! This isn't 1988, after all.

Second, The Anomoanon, Baltimore-mark, are geared up for our show at the Creative Alliance, Wednesday at 8. The "Baltimore-mark" version of this band is: me, Ned O., Dave Human and Walker of the 'Retum, and master arranger Scott "Red" Wallace Brown , ivorystroker of many Charm City combos. We've actually worked out some themes, if not complete songs, and have buried some surprises down in the cake-mix; as much as we (at least those of us not named Scott) love improvised freak music, THE REVOLUTION (of the film reels) WILL NOT BE (accompanied by) IMPROVISED (music). We'll save that one for Faust and the Boxheads!

Third, if you own a Mac, get on over to here and enjoy the delights within. I've given props to Merlin before; little did I know that he's famous! Among nerds, anyway. We go back to the Tallahassee days, those wondrous times filled with Rays of Bacon, a band I had the pleasure of watching a bunch of times and who inhabits an even higher pedestal in my hall of estimation for so openly and unselfishly giving their drummer Bruce full-on props whenever possible: such a rare and wondrous thing to hear from the mic-smelling mouth of a frontstagist! Le Merlon at the time was working in some capacity for some company in what I supposed then was "technical assistance" or "i.t."; I understood anyhow that he "fixed computers". So, without adieu, I offer you this email I wrote to Merlopotomous verbatim in honor of Monday: it's a true story.

Merlin
lissen, funny story that I've been telling a lot lately which includes you: remember back in the day when I had the powerbook 145B that crashed, taking everything I'd written in 5 years with it? Yes, you say out loud (then, to yourself, the dumbass didn't back up any of it! He didn't really even know what 'backing up' was! sheez! He also rarely cleaned off his grill, claiming that the bad stuff would just "burn off". Burn off? BURN OFF? Like right onto the goddam steak, right? Mutherscratcher, I'm not reading any further!).

ANyhow, you took a gander at it, pronounced it dead. I looked into hard drive recovery: a grand (about a grand more than I had at the time). So Merlin tells Jack, Hey pal, don't throw it away. Keep it. Put it in the closet, try turning it on once a year. You never know. Thought to myself, WHat does this clown know? He couldnt even fix my computer. Yeah, sure Merlin, I'll, uhh, hang onto this worthless plastic box. THanks for your help!

I did as told. It sat in my old closet in my old room at my mom and dad's house in richmond while we gallivanted about the wider world, west africa precisely, and thence home to richmond and baltimore. Once a year during our visits to ma and pa's I'd plug in the old 145 and try to crank her up. Nada, ever. Not a fucking peep. This summer, august, I take the kids to richmond to see their grannies while chris goes to india for work. It's pouring rain outside. I begin the series of worthless tasks one often begins when one is bored out of their skulls; going through the old shoes in my old closet to see if any of them have come back in style; looking through the clothes my father has retired by throwing on the floor of my closet, etc., to see if I can use any of them. I see the computer sitting there, dumb and grey. I decide to throw it away.

The story's almost over. Did I throw it away? Well, I sure was about to but figured that she deserved one more try.

Can you fucking belive that it started up? I fell flat back on my ass when I heard the chord. The screen was shot but if I looked at it above and from an oblique angle I could see my desktop---looking at it straight on, nothing. I found some old formatted floppys and proceeded to copy all old text files (os 3 or something?) onto them, plugged those into a retarded old pc my parents had lying around, changed them all to ms word, & voila, over 30 stories and parts of stories from a chapter of my life I never thought I'd be reintroduced to. I can only assume you recognize the vastly mysterious and strange nature of this phenomenon.

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