First to go home, but the last to get there

Listening to: Tori Amos-Boys for Pele

I haven't listened to this album for probably two years or more. Hearing it again is almost like listening to a new album, as only parts of it are familiar. Still glad to report I like it. I have the first three Amos albums (Little Earthquakes, Under the pink, Boys for Pele), but she lost me a little after that. I was way into her music back in the day, when I was still a misunderstood and angsty teenager. 'Earthquakes is particularly nostalgic to listen to now. 'Tear in your hand' reminds me without fail of a Saturday morning in February 1994. The party the previous night had been particularly good, and I had the tape on in the Mini while driving to watch the girl responsible for the particular goodness of the night before play cricket (older Off-Black cohorts will likely know who I am talking about. They will certainly be familiar with the party locale in Heretaunga. New Years party 93-94 should be enough of a clue). I stopped at McDonalds on the way for a hot chocolate. While watching the game I could hear a radio playing Counting Crows "Mr Jones", which is another song and album (August and everything after) that has very strong memory associations for me. A long long time ago.

I love how music can associate itself with particular times and places. I love its power of
evocation.
Some of my more prominent associations (i.e. those I can think of off the top of my head):

Elton John "Someone saved my life tonight"-Driving past lake Pukaki in the rain, on the way down to Wanaka in 1992. Despite the rain, the lake was still bright blue green.
Pearl Jam "Vs"-Perpetually associated with the summer of 1993-94. Last year of school, first year of freedom.
Nirvana "Come as you are"-Being sung by a band of merry drunken students on the Picton Ferry one night in 1992
Shihad "The General Electric"-A breakneck drive across Taranaki and the Manawatu on an early summer evening in order to get from New Plymouth to Palmy in time for Shihad gig. CD on in car, up loud.
Fleetwood Mac "Greatest Hits" -Driving to airshows with Dad in the late eighties and early nineties. Mainly reminds me of the drive home, long summer evenings and the contentedness of having had a good day out.
Faith No More "Evidence"- Was playing in the background one time while I was playing indoor netball at Cuba Street.
I think the oldest one is Kiss "I was made for loving you baby". I can remember watching the video (on our Phillips K9) for this while Mum did housework. I wasn't at Kindy, which I started in 1980, so this memory probably dates from 1979 (when the song was released) or 1980. Anyway, that's what it reminds me of, our house in Garden Road in Avalon, wondering why these odd guys were putting on all this face makeup. I can't get any older than that, I run out of memory in 1979.

Those are just a few. Still making new ones. I love how people relate to the same things differently. Readers will look at my list and have their own little reveries.


Big Weekend (and the point of the post title)

Put our first offer in for a house on Saturday morning. It wasn't accepted so we walked away. As I keep saying to myself, this is how the game works, and we must be patient. Plenty of houses and plenty of time. Of all we have seen in the last month, only three have been seriously considered.

The camping was fun, even if I didn't get any sleep worthy of the definition. I had pillow/head interface issues, and I was perpetually convinced that the next gust of wind would be the one that brought the tent down (having been sleeping in a tent when this actually happened once, this fear is not without foundation). I have been informed that one tent actually did incur damage in the morning. Didn't get rained out though, which is always nice when tenting.

Hanging out in wilderness with old and dear friends (and new ones) is always fun, even if I am not the best at expressing it. I have a sense I may be a difficult person to get close to....
The haka was particularly fun, but to make it more authentic the performers probably should have been barechested....I was going to present the St Pat's Haka, but realised I couldn't remember all of the words, even if I had the actions. I'd rather not do it than do it badly.
And Peter from Woolongong is a legend, particularly when every kilometer he rode to get out there was one he would have to ride back given that the road was a dead end. I like his style.
I hated having to leave early, but it was either do that or not be there at all. At that time of day it only took me 70 minutes to get back to Upper Hutt. But then I worked for 8 hours, so I got home long after everyone else. The morning sounded fun, sorry I missed it. Hope I didn't wake anyone up with my dawn activities, although some were definitely already up.

Primo driving though. Empty roads at dawn. I fully zoned. I realised at one point that I had not been referring to the speedometer for some time, instead fully concentrating on the physical actions of driving properly (brake on the straight, get in the right gear before the corner, power through it etc). This doesn't mean I was speeding (I wasn't) or otherwise hooning, just focussed (to an extent I tend to automatically regulate speed subconciously based on gear and engine noise and rpm, like most drivers I suspect). I have no interest in open road speed for its own sake.
/Start rant/. I fully don't understand the street racer must-go-faster mentality I see pretty much everywhere, town and country. Some of the driving I see on the open road scares the hell out of me. I've destroyed one car through my own incompetence and have no desire to do it again, let alone risk myself (I'm probably worth more than the car....). What I can't control is the dopes around me, and that makes me a very actively defensive driver.
/End rant/.

The only annoyance was having to stop three times to chase flying insects out of the car.
I hear others also had this problem.