Well, dear readers, the clock is ticking. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, the clock is ticking. The clock is also tocking, but that’s another story. If I want to get these here notes posted by midnight, the click is ticking and also tocking and the pressure is on and I don’t know if I can take it. After all, the clock is ticking and I am typing but the ticking is going faster than the typing when the typing should be going faster than the ticking. This type of ticking whilst I am typing ticks my type off. You know, if anyone has a clew as to what the HELL I’m going on about, do let us know. Tick tock, goes the clock. Type type goes the – goes the – goes the what? Hype? Russell Nype? Gripe? Pipe? Swipe? Tripe? Tripe is good. Speaking of tripe, yesterday was a day of this and that. For example, I got up. That was this. I then went to one of my storage facilities, where I proceeded to go through every single box in there trying to find some sheet music someone needs. Since there are about sixty boxes in there, it took quite some time. I did reorganize things a bit, but I never did find the music. That was that. Or was this that? Or was that this? The clock is ticking, for heaven’s sake and I’m going on about whether this is that or that is this. Where was I? Oh, yes, I was then quite hungry from all the exertion, so I had a late breakfast. I then came home and did some organizational things around the home environment, as well as catch up on my CD listening. After that, I sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I couldn’t get motivated to watch a motion picture on DVD. But I can tell you about a motion picture on DVD I finished watching the other night, another of the Randolph Scott/Budd Boetticher westerns, this one entitled Ride Lonesome. I have always loved Ride Lonesome, a low-budget but beautifully produced and photographed scope western. Mr. Scott, as always, plays a loner with a past and a secret, and the rest of the players (including Karen Steele, Pernell Roberts, Lee Van Cleef, James Best, and James Coburn) all turn in excellent performances. Like Comanche Station, it runs exactly sixty-nine minutes, and like Comanche Station, the only area where its budget limitations really is harmful is in the awful score by Heinz Roehmheld. The anamorphic transfer on the DVDR that I watched was excellent.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because the clock is ticking and I am typing and the ticking and the typing will continue in the next section.
The pressure is mounting. The pressure to deliver these here notes by midnight. The clock is ticking, I am typing, the pressure is mounting – perhaps I’ll tell the story of The Randy Vicar and the Plucked Bass. That’s one of my favorites.
Today I shall be going through boxes in Ye Olde Garage – that’s going to take a lot of time, as there are many, many boxes out there. I’m hoping that I can find the music I didn’t find yesterday today. I then have an alumni association meeting at our local Hugo’s, where I shall dine on macaroni and cheese, not necessarily in that order.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, go through boxes, do errands, have a meeting, do some eating, and then watch some new DVDs that someone will be kind enough to give me. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s free-for-all day, the day in which you dear readers get to make with the topics and we all get to post about them. So, let’s have loads of lovely topics and loads of lovely postings, shall we – and remember, the clock IS ticking.