According to the traffic stats, nobody’s reading. Well, not nobody, but a lot fewer people than during the academic year. It’s summertime and the living is easy. And it’s also just after professors and students alike have heaved themselves across the end-of-term finish line and are now trying their best to forget the very existence of their academic disciplines. So demand for musicology blogging is at its yearly low. I’m not feeling too motivated here, to be honest. And however much I’m phoning it in right now, it’ll be a lot worse after June 14, when we move.
You know who else phoned it in, once? Van Morrison. He was still under contract at a small record company when his career started taking off. He owed the label one more record, so he apparently knocked off thirty-one unreleasable songs at a single sitting. The songs are about whatever was going through Van Morrison’s mind at the time. Like, for example, wanting a Danish.
The other day I complained about how moving forces you to confront all your failed acts of consumption. But you know what’s worse? Going through your kids’ toys and realizing how many they’ve grown out of, and then having to get rid of them. (The toys, that is.) I got all choked up going to Goodwill this weekend and handing over the little Fisher-Price schoolbus they played with when they were toddlers. Damn.
I don’t think I really ever managed to become a convincing Texan in the time I lived in Austin. I did, however, invent a drink that is sort of plausibly Texan. I originally called it “Blood of a Cowboy Poet,” in honor of Cocteau’s Sang d’un poète*, but my son spontaneously renamed it “The Bloody Cowboy,” which is actually a much better name. Anyway, the recipe:
The Bloody Cowboy:
Mix together 4 oz port wine, 2 oz medium rum, and the juice of 1 fresh-squeezed lime. Pour over ice. Enjoy.
Since nothing else seems to be going on, I invite my friends in the blogosphere (fellow bloggers, comment posters, and lurkers) to contribute drink recipes they’ve invented. Post them on your blogs, in the comments section, or you can inaugurate my new email address: fordp at indiana dot edu. Any drink that is not obviously a prank or a dare will be kitchen-tested and reviewed at Dial M as time and my bar budget permits. If I get enough entries maybe we can make a musicology mixed drink recipe book, sort of like The Ethnomusicologists Cookbook. That alone would justify the existence of this blog.
*this is why I didn’t cut it as a Texan