Friday, March 14

Now hear this

Ok, so I was really trying earlier to come up with a post. Hence the list of what's being uncovered in our backyard as the beautiful springtime sun turns our feet of snow into a raging river cascading down our sidewalk. Seriously. PFDs recommended, rafts provided.

These flowing waterways I speak of? They end up freezing overnight, creating a black ice death chute by morning. Terrifying for this gal who, usually hip slung with child or carrying twelve things and a kid, a dog on a leash, and an urn of water on my head, tends to lose her footing all too easily, landing on one (1) butt bone or bony hip.

For one reason or another, even though I am delicately dimpled, flabby, and padded on butt, thighs, and hips, I still manage to bruise like a son-of-a-gun when falling on ice.

While working on some busywork assignments for school earlier today, I began listening to Balkan Beat Box. All props in the world go to my hometown pal Silas for sharing his knowledge of the sound. Further props can go to facebook for reuniting me with this guy and two fistfuls of other IC greats. Even one who creates his own beats.

Balkan Beat Box. What can I say? Any tune with a beat that keeps your head bobbing while writing mundane papers is worth it in my book. It's that world sound I appreciate. And I occasionally picture Borat in his hometown village with that guy who stole his walkman.

You know?

There's no room in my jukebox for Top 40. As much as I try to force Whatever The Hell Her Name Is, Yet Another Thirty-Something Male Guitar Soloist, or The Latest Ensemble of Twits Who Sing Other People's Music into my sensitive inner-ear, I just can't do it. Never could.

So check out Balkan Beat Box. Apparently they are great live. Even though they're out of Brooklyn, you have a greater chance of catching them in Europe. I'll be holding my breath here in Iowa.

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