Hiatus week drags on, with a diminishing sense of enthusiasm for everyone, I'm sure. Well, don't worry - when everything returns on Monday there will be something quite unique. I don't just step away from this thing for no reason, you know.

Although I wish I could, sometimes. It would be nice to just skip a day or something, but I know what would happen if I ever gave myself permission to skip. The internet is littered with ghost blogs whose authors stopped posting regularly. A week . . . then a month . . . then goodbye for good.

Not here. That's not going to happen.




I should note: these were all my dad's records. He was mostly a country-western man, but had some of these guys. I listened to them over and over.

This song struck me as a horrible story. The man was trapped! Beneath the ground, forever! And he never returned!

You know, if Charlie's wife is handing him a lunch every day, I think his fate is less mysterious than the song lets on.

I should note that I can't stand folk music, but this song? I have a soft spot for it as a piece of American culture at a particular time - but then the autoplay on YouTube loads "Where Have All the Flowers Gone" and I am reminded why I find this stuff so unbearably pretentious.

Except for "It Takes a Worried Man."


THURSDAY'S DEEP LINK: It's been a while since I pointed you to . . . the Grotesques of 285 Mad Av.

Motels await!

Exit question: what do you think of your parents' music now?




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