Song of the day: "White Winos" by Loudon Wainwright III (Rufus's daddy). Somehow I ended up downloading the song awhile back, I don't recall exactly why. I think I had read positive things about his 2001 album, The Last Man on Earth, and in my curiosity downloaded whatever I could find, and ended up with this song. In any case, it struck me like no other song ever had before, or has since. It's one of the two most wryly moving son-to-mother odes I've encountered (my other favorite is David Sedaris's essay, "Ashes"). I just love when he sings about how he'd switch from wine to beer whenever he and his mother would start to talk about the "old man." There's an easy, simple grace to this song, with the aftertaste of mourning, just like the bitter aftertaste of a complex wine (ugh, cheezy simile, I know). I put the song on a mix CD which I made for a college friend, and also on a mix tape that I had left in my car before my father had used it during my winter break. After he returned the car to me, he mentioned this song specifically, along with Eva Cassidy's "Fields of Gold" and Beck's "Already Dead." Since he's such a wine connoisseur, I'm not surprised it caught his attention. The version I downloaded a few years ago is a truncated version, as I discovered today. As I was leaving NJ to head back to NC, the local radio station (God bless Brookdale public radio 90.5 FM) played a longer version of "White Winos" with several verses I hadn't heard before, which explicitly acknowledged Loudon's mother's death and was more obviously sentimental and wistful. I like the longer version, actually, because it gives a little more context, a little more detail to round out his mother's portrait as well as his own. Shit, I'll obviously have to get the album now.

I saw the most beautiful sunsets while driving. Puddles of melted sherbert (orange and raspberry) blending into an array of beautiful pastels (melons and pinks). Lavender clouds with glowing copper lacey edges.

Last night I dreamt about a guy I used to deeply, desperately love, and am still rather shaken. I haven't been in contact with him for several years. It's amazing how strong an effect the memory of him still has on me. I don't think I'd want to see him again.