I Needn't Ponder for Long

My old mix with five thousand rookum-ska song has gone.  I haven’t figured out how to get all the “old fashioned” tunes I had on my old phone over to this phone.  So there is only one source of music for this phone, and that is my Spotify account which is acting rather funny on my computer with firewall errors that keep me from enjoying anything. On the phone we’re good but nothing will play until I get it downloaded on this new toy.  All the tunes in the “library” are keyed to load.  They didn’t.  We’ve only through the A’s. 

I key up the Allman Brothers to join me for the exercise routine.  That’ll work.  And soon I’m considering once again, just how downhearted poor Greg is about his black-hearted woman.  Reconsidering for the umpteenth time just whose lead is who.   I that first solo Dicky’s definitely.  Or is it Duane’s?  I thought I knew.  Perhaps I don’t.

Lord only knows when Greg will stop his suffering.  And Lord only knows how dumb I look air-guitaring at the gym.  What must this look like?  I needn’t ponder for long.  It looks idiotic.  There are only four or five people here, the same people who are always here.  The space is cavernous.  It’s not like we’re on top of each other.  I wonder for a moment, but soon “Dreams I’ll Never See” pulls me back into a slide guitar mimicry. 

This is fine for one day or maybe two.  But I miss my old running mix. Five thousand songs, two thousand or so rare Jamaican B-sides.  I must find a way to get them back.  Out dated version of iTunes software, computers that won’t open any more, hardware passwords I’ve long forgotten.  I will get that rookumbine-mix back though.  You watch.  I’ll persevere.

Tuesday, 4/23/19