Me and My Monkey

Sometimes I feel like and old record player when I start in the morning. You know that cartoon sound where it starts grumbling, low pitched and slow, and gradually speeds up until you can understand what is being said and the voice is a more normal pitch. That's an odd phrase back there; "What is begin said." It's a very passive phrase. He or she didn't say it, it was being said. I use it when I don't know who is speaking. in the previous instance, a disembodied voice recorded on a piece of vinyl. Almost like shed blood. It is used to be part of somebody, but in using it (speaking) it leaves them and begins some process of degeneration. The trace of a person. I guess that's not as true anymore since we have the internet.

It seems a side effect of the internet is it's property of recording and preserving the real and illusory. Sometimes, I marvel at early recordings. For example, some time ago I listened to a recording of Teddy Roosevelt and for some reason was amazed that I was suddenly able to put a voice with a familiar face. I often wonder what Abraham Lincoln's voice sounded like. I imagine it was higher pitched average and I imagine also a nasal tone. I think that's because I had a tall, lanky uncle who had a voice like that. He was a very nice, hard working man, that as a child, I'd only seen in passing when we'd stop by to visit on occasion. When my father died, that part of the family drove down for the funeral and I spent a little time in his company one day. I was amazed that this fellow had a really full personality, funny, circumspect, friendly, and very real. I had no idea. It was a revelation to me. I had had no concept  of what he was like, all those previous years.

I just did a quick search of what Lincoln's voice was like and while there are many opinions and even a fake recording of it, said to be at Stanford University, the reputable reporters of the time say that, in general, he had a thin, reedy, and even unpleasant voice when he began his speeches that gradually warmed up at about the 10 minute mark to become much more driving and persuasive, mostly, I take it, due to the fervor and passion with which he spoke. No one mentions a nasal tone, so I guess my uncle differs in that regard.

Enough about that, although I think I could be happy speculating about Lincoln all day. He is one of my favorite subjects and characters. I always enjoy reading accounts of him.

I haven't gotten warmed up yet so I had better put the foot down on the pedal. I had strange and circular dreams through the early morning. None of them made sense but I would circle around, over and over. When I tried to think of something more pleasant, it would turn back to the pointless cycles I'd established earlier. When my thoughts turned to depressing thoughts of how I've let things slip in the shop and yard, then, of course, I was able to indulge them I was thoroughly disgusted and feeling hopeless. I surrendered then, unwilling to lie there beating myself into a depression, and got up to begin the upright part of my day. I am still trying to shake the sour mood my night left me with.

I'm hoping that I get some stuff done and that will make me feel better. I seem to be typing well and with a minimum of mistakes, so I guess I'm about warm. I might as well get on with the Rising Gorge piece and then the rest of my day.

More later,