Music Makes My Morning

Another near-death or dismemberment experience this morning. A St. Louis firefighter almost took a free right across (you guessed it) Clayton Ave. onto Skinker Blvd. and across me. I guess I will have to go a little farther out of my way in order to improve my chances of living to see my next committee meeting, which I am cool with, more time on the Trek, more time in the park.
Dr. Bones asked about my musical choices. Since I live with statistics and trends in my working life, I have not idea what my Ipod top ten is... And I don't really care. I can say that I listen to Sufjan Stevens' Illinois an awful lot. I also spend a lot of time with DJ Danger Mouse's Ghetto Pop Life and the highly illegal Grey Album. Vespertine and Debut from Bjork are oft repeated (listening to Debut right now) and Days of Future Past by the Moody Blues is a life preserver of poetry and strings that I grasp when the world seems like its off its hinges and everything I read or hear seems to be dark and depressing. Of course there is also the tender, tragic beauty of Pink Moon by Nick Drake.
Music changes my mood, it picks up my pace on late night stealth rides, pushes me over the edge on runs, guides me to the secret place and provides the seed for the walk, when I stride along, hands swinging free, shoulders back, crooked grin on my crooked face, knowing I am a wearing an "I love toxic waste" t-shirt under my button collar oxford and not caring about anyone's roles or definitions or attempts to shame me for being who I am, an over-educated, elitist geek.