So I’m going to return the violin I bought. Haven’t even received it yet, but I apparently made an ok, but less than stellar choice. I’ve already ordered a much better quality violin that is twice the price, but is of significantly higher quality and will need zero upgrades out of the box.
I think I’m going to do my first ever sale of records. I want to buy a pair of cowboy boots (they aren’t cheap at all!) and I need to do a culling so I think these two things dovetail quite nicely. I just don’t know how to accurately grade records.
So we are over at the Bootleggers Inn on Broadway again. Normal Nashville bar band antics. Well, some 80yo woman on vacation from Wisconsin is here and her fam gives a big ole tip and asks if she can sing a song with the band. She sings Coal Miner’s Daughter and fucking kills it. Like, seriously great.
I know there is hullabaloo about their authenticity and whatnot, but I don’t care. I really like Midland. They perfectly capture the feel of the country music I grew up listening to on my parents’ radios. Even if it is completely calculated to stroke the nostalgia circuits, and written by committee, it’s ultimately still really good, actual, honest to goodness, country music. I’m unapologetically a fan.
I’m going through my discogs and looking at stuff I don’t play often to PIF. Then I give it a listen and I don’t want to give it up. Today’s example is Betty Davis. That shit is soo damn good. Funky, sexy, groovy funkin’ goodness.
My 7yo daughter is a space nerd. I just bought her the Women of NASA LEGO set and book. We are busy planning a trip to the Space Center in Huntsville, AL and possibly a Space Camp visit for her a few years from now.