Which reminds me. I hate snobs, generally, but music snobs more than any of them. Probably because those hit close to home: I spend a great deal of my time and money collecting, listening and enjoying (and no, those two are not coterminous) music. I have completely erased the genres on every single song I own in iTunes because I had to divide and redivide and combine and recombine so many times I almost had as many subgenres as I did bands. My wife is just as much a part of the financial and enjoying aspects as I them, though I suspect my obsession with alphabetizing, digitizing, and overall collecting is my own demon. Which is fine, but that should be enough explanation for why I say “I” instead of we. But here’s the thing. I don’t even want to count how many cds I have. It would be depressing (or awesome?) to assign a monetary value to it. I have actually had to adjust my renter’s insurance to reflect my music purchases. And I have twice as much or more digitally, whether from friend’s recommendations, borrowing, or otherwise. Let us say, I am not a slouch. But I don’t wear it on my sleeve, I don’t dress to indicate my level of knowledge, and I certainly don’t act like an ass about some band you’ve never heard of. If anything, I tend to get really excited talking about music and have been known to send whole shopping bags full of cds home with people to borrow, rip, whatever. I get ridiculously nervous when I go into a cd store. I know that there are probably deals everywhere; I just have to find them. Used sections? I will flip through every cd on the off-chance that I will find something mind-blowingly awesome for a ridiculous price. Sometimes I want to run my find up to the register and scream at them, don’t you know what this is?!? And you are charging me 10 dollars for it?

Here’s the thing: I would probably like that band you hold so near to your heart like somehow that band gives a damn that you, personally, like them. The idea of harboring bands is ridiculous. So is genre-snobbery. Metal is awesome. But, just like every other genre out there, it can suck hard. But just completely writing it off because you happen to know some weird people who love it is dumb. And see! I know it’s dumb, because I used to do it. I mean, if you mentioned country or rap to me, I would likely completely discount you in my head even if I appeared to pay attention to you. Now, I am not saying that I have developed a completely unqualified love of both (I tend to like classic-sounding country (not the stuff that sounds like pop with a twang) and the subject matter of most rap is atrocious; but as a delivery form, it’s great).

Anyway, more on this later. Chik-fil-A calls. The Christian chicken. Long days and pleasant nights.

My blog title isn’t some pretentious snot about myself, really. The internet is full of people who love to self-describe as seekers. The idea that the journey is is more important than the destination (or, God forbid, that the destination doesn’t matter at all) is just dull. Lukewarm. I don’t want to discuss life with people who don’t believe anything and prefer to “look” for answers. I don’t think every issue can be (or should be) reduced to a right/wrong dichotomy but there’s a hell of a lot less grey (I prefer the English spelling; for some reason, e is more depressing than a, and grey should be depressing, like fall mornings; I should write lyrics for mopy indie bands) area in life than some of the goobers in my generation seem to think.

Of course speaking so generally about an entire generation can make you look stoopid, so back to the name. It’s from a Pink Floyd song, and like most of the really great Pink Floyd songs, you can use the same words to describe it as you would most people who blog. The song meanders all over the sonic spectrum in disparate, schizophrenic movements, and is almost unbelievably pretentious. I wrote a blog in college which was subsequently cancelled by the site. Funny story, I’ll have to tell you sometime. I tried starting again, didn’t take, got bored. But now, like my Pink Floyd records (see? multiple applications!) I miss it. I miss the daily (or weekly) habit of writing like I miss my favorite band.

Here’s why. I love music and probably spend far more than I should on it. The problem with this is there’s always something new and interesting out there. I tend to lose track of the the standards. The other day, I rode home with my friend and I’d happened to grab the Yellow Submarine songtrack (first time I’d listened to the Beatles in more than a year) and we sang the whole way back. When we got home, we put the cd in my sound system and kept singing. Also, beer. It was cathartic, nerdy, and heartwarming all at the same time. What I mean to say is, I love Pink Floyd and I want to listen to it. I also miss writing, and now I have two free periods in the morning on A days (I’ll write about my job soonish, I guess; what blog would be complete with out a self-centered, veiled description of my life? not a blog I’d wanna read, I’ll tell you that right now). So I blog again. But here, and not xanga, because this is where all the cool kids hang out.

Also, I like to use this to sign off: “long days and pleasant nights.” Like most “good” phrases, it resonates and evokes. It’s a farewell from Stephen King’s Dark Tower series. To me, the long days part doesn’t mean interminable drudgery in work or school, but rather the now old-fashioned joy one should take in a long day of work well-done and enjoyed because you have done something. Being tired at the end of the day because you have worked can be a good feeling. Pleasant nights, of course, is self-explanatory. But for me specifically, a pleasant night is sitting on a porch overlooking the ocean with a cold beer (or bourbon, scotch, martini, etc; I’m not picky, just make it cold with as little fruit as possible, if you please) with my friends (or more intimately, my wife) and enjoy the sound of God’s timeless ocean making a mess of the sand. But that’s me. Whatever those two images conjure for you (hopefully something good), that’s what I wish and hope for you. So long days and pleasant nights.