As Yours Truly (mais bien sur, still minding her very own beeswax after all this time, time squeezed of every last possibility like yesterday's lemon) firmly believes that all musical discs (as opposed to imagistic) should be judged by their Track 7's, she will zoom ahead to Coldplay's verysame, a tune entitled Viva La Vida.
Let us whirl it via iTunes.
Sounds a wee bit syncopatey, MOOGish, ahh, now the soothing voice of Chris.
Focusing now on strings, his lyrics.
Roll the dice, enemy eyes. O dear.
Held the key ... (YT is awful at picking up lyrics, a trait that has created much humour these many several years)
...
Noticed were what I wanted ... synthesized and multi-layered music.
Wicked and wild wind ... shadowed windows and sound of drums.
Alrighty, this will remain background musique for now to get to more important matters at hand.
Namely, the Big9/ToppermostsJudicious/Supremes voted 5-4 that our second amendment is to remain as is.
NYT featured an image of a protester holding this sentiment markered:
IF GUNS KILL PEOPLE DO PENS MISSPELL WORDS.
YT always appreciates a good slogan.

Sent in my moola to acquire a fine, limited-ed Obama superstar t.
They did not have a girl-cut t, and that is a demerit, in my Perfect and humble op.
OK, this Coldplay disc is really not wooing, yet.
Kennedy is quite happy to hear that Buckethead (GNR guitar god) is coming to the Middling City, to Club Infinity, where the prized Nephew has performed, where Freeland worked his dreamy rock wonders, where several others were captured by YT.
Tomorrow night hired to doc an onstage assemblage of rockstars during the downtown hoopla part of Homecoming Weekend.
We who have stayed in the MC already know its divergent and ragamuffin charms, but do enjoy basking in the affirmative attention of others from time to time.
All this as a new kitten rambles about outside the office door, the Natives build their large-scale gambling den in the midst of what should be a heritage district (assuredly leading to some struggling hardtimes for the remaining gin mills of yore who will be caught in this monstrosity's long, concrete shadow), and the storm clouds hover still.

Viva Luvva.

In quite possibly one of the worst headlines penned lately, Yours Truly just read on the epicurious site: Healthy Addictions: Granola Is the New Crack.
I will have to remember to tell that to the crack ho I saw staggering down the parking lane of Elmwood Avenue this past Saturday night as Annie and I decided to make our way north after not in fact seeing the swishy party that YT was not only invited to - but RSVP'd as an enthusiastic Oui to.
In my little FaceBook What'reYouUpTo YT mentioned that I wondered how long it'd take for me to become fluent in Japanese.
Whilst in Japan the first time YT did make a grand effort to learn some phraseology, some katakana, some hiragana, and could even write out first and last name - in katakana, a sound alphabet for mod/western words.
A handy thing when dropping off and picking up photo orders from the neighborhood photo lab.
So, Larry Deluxe read that YT wished to become fluent in Japanese and sent YT a handy list of phrases most moderne.
Mainly things relating to bodily, or gutteral matters.
In reply, YT sent him a YouTubed Domo Arigato Mister Roboto.
Really and truly a masterwork, when you consider it from a substantial, safe distance from the 80s that spawned it.
YT now wonders how we can get this number into the Solid Gold Bookers Rock Opera that we are considering writing/producing/performing at this year's Middling City Infringement Fest.
Our performative plate is oso full, but there is always room for a nice rendition of a Styx classic.

You're wondering who I am-machine or mannequin
With parts made in Japan, I am the modren man

Now, YT asks You. Is this not poetry.

Poetic, Modren Love.

The Middling City's eldest sycamore tree on Franklin near Virginia Street is ailing and maybe about to succumb to a fungus.
Yours Truly has made a few images of this tree over the years and owns a painting of the tree, purchased at one of the Paint the Town benefits for Buffalo and Erie County Historical Society years ago.
This was front-page MCNews news, as was a story about a femme who nearly perished after choking on a piece of kielbasa. I have to think that the reporter somehow relished this very MC fact. Not food, not a morsel of food, not a sandwich or sausage, but a kielbasa.
O so MC.
Thee eldest of all trees is in Delaware Park, a white oak, according to the same story. And I do believe it is the very tree where YT poses hundreds of bigU runners and walkers who are participating in Corporate Challenge.
Am I sincerely upset about the state of the second-oldest MC tree, You ask.
You bet your toppermost branches I am.

So, last night, amongst other activities, picked up Annie to bring her to a solstice fete on the west side, near the fabled Elmwood Village.
We were all gussied up and motored by. I thought things looked rather tame so we parked and then walked up to the property. Nothing. No swingin' high times.
Something, YT speculates, must have gone awry and things did not happen at all.
Looked at invite again, confirmed that we were in the correct city, on correct street, at appointed hour - to no party avail.
So off we continued to eat some fab Indian food and catch a little less than half of the gratis Sloan gig alongside the canal, at Gateway Park.
Soundman Mark let us stand under one of his protective tents and then Gary and Mish found us. Some high kicks, some shouts, some furious applause, some lightning, some torrential raindrops, some ending.
One encore song and then Sloan hit the highway; they were actually getting wet on the stage and YT did wonder if the band would be meeting a sparking, sputtering, electrical end. They did not.
This was the third time that I have seen Sloan with this trio of people. One time, one of the favs, had Nephew in tow.
That was also outdoors, at Thursday at the Square.

Square, electrical, tree Love.