Very few would be as odd as I and enjoy this tandem. But this is what my day has consisted of. It's been a day for reconnecting, and these, two of my companions in days past, have resurfaced with a vengeance.
It's been a while since I spun some SOAD, so I decided today-on a whim-that I'd give 'em a whirl from their oldest album up through their latest. Yeah, I'm strange like that. But as the sonic hatefulness, sarcasm and stupidity echoed in my brain I found myself visiting another old friend because I discovered he's written a new book.
Michael Pollan recently dropped a follow-up to his smashing success The Omnivore's Dilemma, which I read last year with much enthusiasm. This new title, In Defense of Food, reportedly"takes up where the previous work left off." His mantra in Dilemma was a carry-over he's proclaimed for some time concerning dietary advice. "Eat Food. Not Too Much. Mostly Plants." Perhaps it's fate, but for the record SOAD's Soil is playing in the background as I type this post.
Anyway, seeing I can't get to the bookstore or library today, I've resorted to resuming my path through Pollan's articles on his website. I didn't get too far on my quest last year, but perhaps I'll stick with it this time. I'm reading A Gardener's Guide to Sex, Politics and Class. It's a rip-roaring garden-esque, green-thumb read, but I enjoy it although I've never nursed a single plant to long life. Well, in my mind I have, for there I have planted a garden of flowers and trees and shrubs and plants interspersed with statues, fountains and benches. Oh, and a hammock. It's a quiet place, and the perfect space for me to read the latest Grisham novel.
So, with this fascination and planning for old age garden days, I reverently tread through the vegetative focus of the brilliant Pollan. And, for the record, my plants will listen to rock-and-roll, no doubt plenty of which will be SOAD. Audio A told me they could, and wouldn't go to hell.
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