I'm behind on a couple of manuscripts -- it's been hard for me to focus for more than about an hour at a sitting -- so am trying not to spend my usual time looking up random things on the Internet.
Plus, I needed a post for today, so when I saw this abbreviation on a banner in front of a massive construction site on the American University campus yesterday, I decided not to look it up. The banner says the project is "Certified LEED GOLD." What does this mean?
It reminds me that subcultures exist of which I know nothing. This phrase is meaningful enough, to enough people, that the university feels it's worthwhile to advertise it. It's why this blog focused on Terms of Art for a year, because I hate the idea that people are talking about things I don't understand.
And now I'll probably go look it up.
Five Random Songs
"Brown Eyed Girl," Van Morrison. This song will be forever associated in my mind with one of the most uncomfortable dates I've ever been on, with a young man who was basically taking me out from some obscure sense of guilt. We wound up in a bar on the Alexandria waterfront, where the live music was a guy with a guitar who knew so few songs that he sang this one twice. (Not in a row, but twice in the same set.)
"Wake Up Time," Tom Petty. From Wildflowers, a solo project that never got the attention it deserved. A terribly wistful song, in 3/4 time, about coming to grips with real life when dreams disappoint.
"The Lady is a Tramp," Ella Fitzgerald. I have never understood this song, and while I like this version better than Frank Sinatra's, I've never shaken the feeling that it's somehow misogynistic.
"Further On (Up the Road)," Bruce Springsteen and the Sessions Band. Between the penny whistle and the soprano voice (I assume Patti Scialfa's) that start this song, it draws every dog in a mile-wide radius. Not my favorite track on this album, which I do love.
"Danko/Manuel," Drive-By Truckers. An elegy for two folk-rock pioneers, almost unbearably beautiful and sad. This album (The Dirty South) is amazing, beginning to end.