Music Meme, Day 20

A song with a number in the title: 

One of the musical geniuses that Bob introduced me to years ago was Harry Nilsson. Until he helped me take a deep dive into Nilsson's work, I think I'd only heard "Everybody's Talking." After I emerged from the dive, I loved everything he ever wrote or performed. When he was young, his voice was angelic. After a few years of hard, hard living, it was no longer angelic, but it was still sweet. 

There are so many Nilsson songs I'd love to share with you - Jump Into the Fire, Good Old Desk, Remember, I Guess the Lord Must Be in New York City, and so many more - just for the joy of listening to his robustly, seriously whimsical lyrics. But the meme on Day 20 asks for music that has a number in its titles, so I'll stick with that. 

As it happens, there are two Nilsson songs with a number in the title. "One" is the first one, and it's beautiful. 

But Nilsson wrote another song with a number as its title: 1941. This is semi-autobiographical and is a perfect example of how Nilsson could mix whimsy with sorrow.


The previous days are available via this link. 

Yep, I Tested Positive

I thought I was coming down with the same bad cold that Bob was slowly recovering from. I don't get colds all that often, and I'd thought this one would pass me by, but nope, it appeared eager to settle in my head. Well, dang ... I headed for bed, hoping it wouldn't be too bad in the morning. 

Around 3 a.m. Saturday I woke up with aches that signaled a potential temperature. And indeed I had one; 100.7, significantly higher than the 97.9 I usually run. I knew that colds don't feature fevers so I tested myself for COVID. 

I didn't even have to wait the requisite 15 minutes, both lines were there in bright red within 30 seconds. 

Welp. 

I've felt like I've been hit by a truck ever since. I keep telling myself it's a smaller truck than it might have been, thanks to the booster shot I got last year (of course, I can't recall exactly when I got it, but I think it was in mid-summer.) but it's still a truck. I ran a lower temp on Sunday, and Monday and Tuesday, today, I haven't had a temperature since then and today I retook a test. At first, the only reaction was the control line. Huzzah! I was certain I'd gotten the first of the two negative tests I'd need to declare myself COVID free. As I said, Huzzah--

--except at the end of the 15 minute wait time, there it was, a faint but definite second line. 

Welp. Again. 

And it's still like being hit by a small truck. 

Ah well, I'm getting some work done on my NTBP* novel, escaping a corner I'd painted myself into. And I'm also making some bread. That always comforts me. 

And here, have something I wrote about cold decades ago. Since we're still in single digit temperatures with subzero windchills, it feels the same to me, although this was written after a relatively rare ice storm during a cold snap.

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* not to be published