Barb Heller dropped in the office a few minutes ago to see if I would have this out by three, when her show begins. She wanted everybody to know about the guest appearance by Eric Gibson of the Gibson Brothers Bluegrass Band. But I had another agenda. Sometimes on Thursday I get this vague look in my eye, and start asking everyone who drops in, “What should I write about today?” The beast must be fed, and the fodder must be fresh.
Unlike many visitors, who suddenly discover something else to do when I ask that, Barb had a suggestion: transitions. It’s fall, so the weather transition is obvious. Barb says that she is transitioning from eating fresh garden produce, to eating home-canned garden produce. And her work is in transition, because she only sells hot dogs from her cart in the summer. And she says the mice and the spiders are trying to transition from outdoor to indoor living. “Yeah,” I said, “my house is like their Florida.”
After she left, I began to realize, I’m not exactly down with transition. My work is pretty much the same in any season; I don’t have the intimate connection to the season that comes from gardening, and in general, I like it when tomorrow is more or less predictably like today. As an example, I know it’s Thursday, because I’m writing Listening Post. And I was commenting yesterday on Ellen’s post about the transition from LP to CD to MP3, and found myself making a Luddite lament for vinyl. 30 years and I can’t let go of my love for big album covers.
Apparently I have been in transition for a long time without realizing it–into a fuddy-duddy.