Strange Things Happen

I am still using the Mystery Meat setting on my iPod, and not all the way through sampling every song on there.  I don't have everything I want on there yet, but what I do have keeps me pretty entertained.  So on the way back and forth to the office I hook up the thing to a crappy radio adapter, and sing along.  Loudly (as if you didn't know already).

First one on the list this afternoon was one of my own songs.  Listening to it, and realizing that I was the person who wrote it, I decided that I'd go with the idea I had for a new site redesign and start on it right away.  You can only let procrastination win for so long before it becomes boring, and you become stupid.  Now to find a flattering photo to use... good luck and godspeed on that one.

Strange Things Happen

Next was Stewart Copeland's "Strange Things Happen".   I had been in the middle of pre-ordering his unreleased book by this same name last night before I was foiled by a glitch on the website, so I was actually heading home to complete that order before my computer packed it in and lost my shopping cart.

I know a whole bunch of folks who are even more thrilled about the release of this book than I am.  They have probably already predicted what strange things have happened in the story.  After Sting's rather sparse (read: non-gossipy) account of the band's history, and then Andy Summer's more rambunctious joyride through his Police memories, I'm wondering if being last to tell the tale has its merits.

And Stewart talks the way other people write.  You can never be sure just what the man will say -- you know it will be absolutely unfiltered, and chances are it will be surprising.  But while other people take some time to think up clever answers and spend time thinking about what they are writing, and what they SHOULD be writing, and the best words to say it with... well... that stuff just comes rapidfire right out of his mouth.  With no thesaurus-thumbing and really no thinking gap at all.  There's barely a chance to really take in the full meaning of what he's just said before he goes on to something else.  I'm amazed and impressed with this ability because I've never met anyone like this in my entire life.  I wish I could think in words that quickly.  But because he talks like other people write... what is he going to write?

Anyway. I've just now finished my pre-order of the book, along with a second readable copy of Andy's "One Train Later" (the autographed one from Luminato is now untouchable).  Like the rest of us, Stewart's put out some questionable stuff (and I'm willing to take my licks on that from the nutters -- plus I'm first in line to showcase some of the really horrible songs I'm forced to take credit for myself) but this book is going to be something to really look forward to and devour no matter how it turns out.  And there's always the chance of a booksigning tour :)