Complaints, b*tchin’, etc.

Amazon doesn’t have a good system for reporting problems with downloads of their MP3s (sales, not free stuff.) I’m fuming because I bought the Puppini Sisters’ “Betcha Bottom Dollar”–they’re an Andrews Sisters-type trio who sing oldies and newies in that style, and they’re pretty good–but after it got the first three songs on side one, my browser popped up a window saying that the Amazon MP3 downloader had a problem and was closing–“input file corrupt.” I reported this through the Amazon online system, but have heard zip. Phooey! It’s back to iTunes Store for me, even though there is crummy protection on some tracks. (I get Plus whenever it’s available so as to get no DRM on the files and a higher bitrate. But still. *fume*)

The first three weren’t the songs I was buying the album for, mostly. *grump* Plus, I prefer the Bette Midler recording of “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.” I guess I just like her voice better–it’s more distinctive. She’s another overlooked treasure, IMHO. “The Divine Miss M.”

I turned the house upside down yesterday looking for an old piano sheet music book that I’ve had since I was a kid. It’s “Best Pops ’72” and has the good old arrangements of a number of tunes I would like to play again. I noodled around a bit, and some of them came back in parts, so I know they’d come back quickly if I had the music. I know I’ve seen that, and I had it by the piano, but . . . didn’t find it anywhere. They do have one for sale online through Amazon (hah–as IF they will get more business at this point from me), but it’s priced at over $50. Come on! Get real!

I know that many sites online have PDF files for sale with arrangements of this old music, but it isn’t the arrangement I learned, so (1) it won’t come back easily the way the ones I learned will, and (2) it doesn’t sound right. I’ve already checked.

Why not just play it all by ear? I do, mostly. But there’s a hitch. The piano desperately needs to be tuned. EVERY note is getting sour. She can’t be brought up to concert pitch anyhow, but she can be tuned to herself, which is what needs to be done.

Ripping in tracks off of my old vinyl albums using the Brookstone ION USB turntable works pretty well. But the trouble I’ve had is that you have to press the REC button at the beginning of each track and then again at the end . . . and then again to start recording at the beginning of the next track. This means that I missed the beginning of most tracks. I hate that! Phooey. Man, records sound so much better in some ways than MP3s, but they are lots more work and so fragile.

“That Girl, Season One” is $27 at Fry’s, which is the least expensive place. Man! That’s a lot for ONE season. Why don’t they re-run that somewhere? I know it’s dated. That’s the POINT. It’s supposed to be. I love seeing those old dresses like Mama and my aunts and my teachers wore–and often *I* had mini-versions of the same clothes to wear to third, fourth, and fifth grade. We watched the show after school in re-runs. And what about Dobie Gillis?! Dwayne Hickman is a hottie. Still pretty cute, too (judging by his website.)

And I have a hangnail. *pout*

But . . . there weren’t any more bad storms, and we didn’t lose any more big trees, and we can afford groceries, and my cousin is in PARIS being mentored by an architect there. (This past week, he was taken to see drawings by the Old Masters that are kept under lock and key in the catacombs under . . . THE LOUVRE. You can’t beat THAT with a stick! He can’t believe he’s not dreaming.)

So I shouldn’t complain.


(Why did the neighborhood need a new fountain? It’s cool . . . but we didn’t need another one. Did we?)

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Author: shalanna

Shalanna: rhymes with "Madonna" and "I wanna," and is not a soundalike with "Hosanna" or "Sha-Na-Na." Aging hippie with long hair, husband, elderly mother, and yappy Pomeranian. I've been writing since I could hold a crayon. I started with fiction, which Mama said was "lying." “Don’t tell stories,” she would admonish, in Southern vernacular. “That's all in your imagination!” When grownups said this, they were not approving. So, shamed, I stopped telling stories for a few years--rather, I stopped letting anyone read them. I'm married to a fellow computer nerd who doesn't really like hearing about writing, but who reads sf/fantasy and understands the creative drive. I'm actually a nonconformist/hippie still wearing bluejeans and drop earrings and the Alice-in-Wonderland hair with headbands and sandals. Favorite flavor is chocolate/orange, favorite color is either Dreamsicle orange (cantaloupe) or bubble-gum pink, favorite musical is either Bye Bye Birdie, Rocky Horror, or The Producers . . . wait, I also love The Music Man. Is this getting way too specific and irrelevant yet? Obvious why I don't sell a ton of flash fiction, isn't it? To define oneself, I always say, it is good to make a list. How about a booklist? Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird Frank and Ernestine Gilbreth, Cheaper by the Dozen C.S.Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (all the Narnia books) J.R.R.Tolkien,The Hobbit/LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy Gail Godwin, The Odd Woman F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye (before dismissing it, actually read it) George Orwell, 1984 Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle Donna Tartt, The Secret History Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn James Allen, As A Man Thinketh Mark Winegardner, Elvis Presley Boulevard James Thurber, My Life and Hard Times The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum Winnie-the-Pooh/House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie The KJV and NIV Bible (each translation has its glories)

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