So it's been a remarkably long day, I have that all-over-body ache that tells me I overdid it but the lingering soreness is enormously satisfying, and there's nothing left but to plop down in front of the television and hope there's a single offering worthy of my attention. (Yes. I also picked up some yarn and knitting needles. I've heard what they say about idle hands...)
Why the achey soreness? you ask... There was moving of furniture. And hours of cleaning and shredding and folding and rearranging and organizing. Interspersed with some high-quality email responding and important downloading and defragmenting. And stuff. Focus like you've never before observed in any of the Melody Watsons you've ever met in your life. So I was done being productive at that level, had returned from an hour and a half of errand-running, and was looking for some seriously riveting television viewing for an hour or two.
PBS aired Eric Clapton's 2004 Crossroads Guitar Festival tonight. I was not informed in advance but lucky me, I tuned in just in time for, oh, about an hour and a half worth of Carlos Santana, Eric Clapton, B.B. King, John Mayer, Joe Walsh, Vince Gill, Robert Cray, J.J. Cale, James Taylor, ZZ Top, and Robert Randolph. Not in that order, but whatever. Wow. Are you a music person? If you are, then regardless of your musical taste, if said taste is broad enough to encompass some 20th-21st century blues guitar, then you'll understand my awe. Particularly when (in spite of my having been born into a musical family,) the ability to play the guitar eludes me so. (Watching the special triggered a walk down memory lane which included a New Year's Eve party when we switched from 1999 to 2000, a cute boy with a guitar, much flirting, and some attempts to try and see what I could do. It wasn't pretty. Those guitar strings and my fingers...we don't mesh very well.)
I should have warned you. There is no point to this entry. I've just been noticing a variety of things today (officially that would be yesterday, by now,) and thought I'd write a bit before going to bed. You can go 'head on, yourself, if you're getting sleepy and don't know if you have the patience to see this through.
So I watched the guitar thing and swooned and wondered why on earth had I not pursued a career as a guitarist, then clicked around with the remote, once the credits were rolling, in an attempt to find anything that came close to holding my attention rapt for at least another half hour. Jon Stewart will do nicely, thank you. Swooning again. (Lord, I love a smart, tongue-in-cheek funny, cute, mildly geeky boy-over-30...don't you???)
And then...David Letterman! How long has it been since I watched Letterman? And how did it come to be that this much time has passed? Years, easily! But I used to watch him regularly. So regularly, in fact, that all his little goofy quirks came back to me within the first minute and a half of my tuning in.
Okay, I mentioned Matt Damon and clearly you've been squirming in your seat, wondering if I was ever going to explain why I used his name in the title. Hold up...it's coming. Right now: did you know Matt Damon is married? To a woman named Luciana? No? Well, I didn't either. (Apparently, though, a lot of other people knew. As is evidenced by these photos I found on Google Images when I went a-lookin'.) But who cares? I mean, really, let the man have his own personal, private live, and marry his wife from Argentina, and have his baby and be a great dad. And why again am I actually taking the time to write in my blog about how I didn't know that Matt Damon was married, and that he's a FATHER, for goodness sake!??!
Well, see, that's the point. It's not important at all - to my life. But the way our world is structured these days, we come to believe that these people we have never yet met, nor shall we ever meet in our entire lifetimes, are somehow familiar to us. Just becuase we watch them in movies every now and then, and see them on shows like David Letterman's. That the things they do in their lives must be known by us. That we know these celebrities. And so when he affirmed that he is, indeed, married...and a fairly new father...I felt a little perplexed. Thinking I should have been privy to this tidbit of knowledge. Because that's our world now, see.
2006. These are interesting times we've got ourselves, folks.
So now I'd best say goodnight and wish you a wonderful Tuesday. Which, by my calculations, is already upon us. Time to get a bit of sleep. Tomorrow's list? Yup. It's longer than today's was.