Sunday Music: 4 Way Street, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

Album Title: 4 Way Street, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

Why I Bought It: I bought this album in LP form, back in the early '70s, when I was beginning my drift out of the GOP orbit. "Chicago" was the main attraction.

What I Like (Firing Up): "Chicago" and "Ohio". Musically, they're not all that interesting, although the chorus of the latter song ("Four dead in O-hi-o") has some appeal. It's the content - the reminder of just how crazy those years were, and how crazy things could be again - that draws me to them.

What I Like (Longing): "The Lee Shore" has a flavor a bit like that of "Southern Cross", but dreamier and less energetic.

What I Like (Creepy): "Don't Let It Bring You Down" is... not for all moods, but there are times when I can appreciate it. "White cane lying in a gutter in the lane...": brrr.

What I Don't Like (Bait and Switch): One of the tracks is labeled "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes". It's 33 seconds long.

What I Don't Like (Overdoing It): I have nothing in particular against "Southern Man", but (almost) fourteen minutes is, um, excessive.

Overall: My tastes have changed a good deal since I bought this album (ca. forty years ago), and I'm pretty "meh" about most of it. "Teach Your Children", "Long Time Gone", "Cowgirl in the Sand" - they're all right, but nothing special, and several of the other songs ("Triad", for example) do nothing for me whatever.

Kids

I hope this is not a portent.

This evening, as I finished a promising session of Civ IV (playing as Kublai Khan; I have conquered three of my neighbors, and have now set my sights on India), I heard Buster barking outside. As I left the computer room, it seemed that the sound was coming from an unusual direction (difficult though that is to determine from inside the house). I went to the nearest window overlooking the back yard, and saw a) a wide open gate and b) two neighbor children - whose, I don't know - about 10-12 years old.

I hurried outside, still in my stocking feet. The two kids were talking together; I interrupted to inform them that there was a reason that gate was kept shut. "We don't know how it opened!" "I'm sure you don't." I shut the gate, pulled my socks off, and set off in search of Buster. I circled the house, calling but not seeing him. I found him on the front porch - the door I had left the house by - waiting to be let back in.

Prankish children, playing this kind of prank, are something I do not need.

Reread?

It has been some thirty years since I read The Wealth of Nations.

I suddenly feel the urge to reread it. (I blame nancylebov.)