Most online sources define resurfacing firstly as having to do with floors, roads, ice rinks, kitchen counters, and even skin. Only secondarily do they define resurfacing as returning to the surface. But Wiktionary puts that latter one first, and it’s in that sense that I mean it (bravo Wiki!).
It feels as if it’s been a long time since my last post, but in fact it’s been less than a week. It just seems long because it has also been a productive week filled with new things as well as a week of some long hours on a project. Enough hours to have burned me out a bit. Now I have some catching up to do.
But it’s nice to know I can still pull off a coding all-nighter at my age.
Friday Notes are fun and fairly easy. (None of the science or technological rabbit holes I love so much — my underground lair?) But I can’t seem to break the habit of posting articles explaining stuff. I guess that’s part of who I am.
As I’ve mentioned, lots of preachers and teachers in my family tree. Number of authors, too, so I suppose there’s no escaping it. And I do put considerable value on the experience of trying to explain something. It really does push you into knowing it better.
But today is Friday (thank God), and I have notes…
Most of the remnants of “the gang” went to see Peter Gabriel at the Xcel Energy Center in St. Paul last night. As they say, a (very) good time was had by all. It was the sort of enjoyable (and energetic) night that keeps you smiling to yourself for days. I do so love live music.
And, wow, does Gabriel (at 73!) put on a show worth seeing and hearing. Some rockers haven’t aged well, but Gabriel continues to find new visual and musical expression. Last night was as memorable as any of his previous shows.
I don’t have a lot to say — still basking in the afterglow — but I do have pictures.
It’s very cool (and new to me how this works out), and John asked if any of his readers would be interested in creating a table of all 84 rows. That’s exactly the sort of little project that often catches my eye.
In the last edition of Friday Notes my long-winded story about a problem filing my state taxes and the unexpectedly (but very welcome) positive experience of dealing with support from H&R Block, my bank, and the Minnesota Department of Revenue used up the bulk of my word count. But, in contrast to the negative experiences with most tech companies (cough, Apple, cough), it was a good story to tell.
I didn’t have room for all the notes accumulated in my Apple Notes app. This time I’ll try to fit in the rest of them.
But I want to record a dream I had, so (once again) there might not be room.
The post I intended for today is taking longer than expected, and I can’t seem to get started on my backup idea (the time change and chilly weather have me in hibernation mode). So instead, here’s my current favorite tune, Turtles All The Way Down, by Sturgill Simpson, from his 2014 album Metamodern Sounds in Country Music:
I first heard this during the closing credits on Hulu’s Reservation Dogs (episode 8, season 2), and it really caught my ear. And mind. Such great lyrics. (Here’s a non-official version with the lyrics.) Enjoy!
During the last two weeks I re-watched Cowboy Bebop, an award-winning Japanese science fiction anime classic created in 1998. In contrast with a lot of anime, the show is so adult in its themes that only 12 of the 26 episodes were aired when it premiered on TV Tokyo in 1998. The full series wasn’t aired in Japan until the following year on Wowow, a private, premium satellite network.
In 2001 it was the first anime title ever broadcast on Adult Swim, so it was the first experience many Americans had with Japanese anime. Since then, because of its visuals, music, and themes, it has earned international acclaim, both with critics and audiences.
It’s a definite must-see for any fan of anime or science fiction.
These days, with digital music so easily streamed, albums seem not as central to music as they once were. Artists still make them; it’s even possible to buy vinyl versions of some new albums (there are those who still see vinyl as better than digital), but the industry no longer revolves around the idea.
In any event, a conversation topic I’ve enjoyed starting is the question of one’s perfect albums. Which is not to say one’s favorite albums — the two are not necessarily the same. A perfect album is one where you love — love, not just like — every single tune.
Lists differ, of course. The fun is seeing what people have in common.
Little Big Town: (l to r) Karen Fairchild, Phillip Sweet, Jimi Westbrook, & Kimberly Schlapman.
The last few weeks have been astonishing: Minnesota in the news for all the wrong reasons (but change may be coming); the COVID-19 thing ongoing; our strange politics ever stranger; we’re all going a little nuts. On the other hand, summer is here, so at least the weather has been cool and lovely (though there have been some hot and steamy evenings).
This past week or so, I’ve been mostly basking in my tree trying to figure it all out. Luckily, I’ve had some good music helping me along, and today I thought I’d share (once again) my love for the band Little Big Town.
There are, firstly, the unique sort of jaw-droppers I usually have in mind for Wednesday Wow. Secondly, there are the little, almost hidden, daily wonders with so much behind them. But it occurred to me there is yet another category, one that is both daily and also jaw-dropping.
It has to do with the human mind and the kind of art it can create. It also has to do with how we respond to that art. What is it that an artist puts into their best work, and what is it that we take from it? Whatever it is, profound or mundane, it can touch us deeply.
Most of the remnants of “the gang” went to see 
Mathematician and educator 
During the last two weeks I re-watched 
These days, with digital music so easily streamed, albums seem not as central to music as they once were. Artists still make them; it’s even possible to buy vinyl versions of some new albums (there are those who still see vinyl as better than digital), but the industry no longer revolves around the idea.
Logos con carne 