Song of the Week, Volume 4, 2003 June 08

Artist: Nåid
Song: And When I Heard Her, I Knew We Were Going The Right Way
Album: Nåid
Year: 1996

The following domains are registered:

123456789101112.com
johnjacobjingleheimerschmidt.com
slhacker.com
doubleu.com
orangeshoes.com
01235.com
8675309.com
sdrawkcab.com
eatpaste.com

eatpaste.com ??? C'mon, that's just not fair -- that should have been my site. Now, I am wondering if I have a cosmic double out there? Forget Internet dating, just find that random domain name that you really like and that somebody else has all ready scooped up. Bam -- you've found your (in?)significant other.

Nevertheless, to test the other side of the nothing-new-under-the-sun theory, here is a list of still available domain names (as of 2003-06-06):

012358.com
hisnameismynametoo.com
givemesomecandy.com
sitdownandshutup.com
theseampsgoto11.com
youwontforgetit.com
mymothersmaidenname.com
orangehightops.com

You would think that if you went through the trouble of registering johnjacobjingleheimerschmidt.com you would also fork over the cash for hisnameismynametoo.com Similarly, the first one on the list is the first six numbers of the Fibonacci sequence (the fist five are taken). A great, useless, expensive, and somewhat-performance-art piece would be to register every number in the sequence (up to the domain name length limit). Then have each domain contain a page with its given number and have that number be a hyperlink to the next number in the sequence (e.g. 8.com points to 13.com and 13.com points to 21.com and so forth). Is it anymore absurd than the John Cage piece that is currently being played -- the one that is going to take a couple of hundred years to finish? (639 years, click here)

Forgoing segues, SOTW Volume 4 is from a band from Sweden. I bought the CD on the recommendation of a friend of a friend (Matt then Mark) on the second to last day of my 2001 Stockholm trip. Less than a day after returning from Stockholm, two of my friends and I piled into a car and drove straight to San Diego. The Nåid (pronounced noid) CD was one of the few CDs we listened to en route. The trip was misery personified: three people, two weeks of camping gear, one Beetle, and no sleep. Plus, I had written incessantly in Stockholm. Most of it was for the betterment of humanity. However, one piece -- mailed in an unforgettable-headache-provoking-yellow envelope -- that one had other intentions (you know, words good and bad, they do what they're told without conscience). That one piece of (unfortunately) mailed cruel intentions -- it never left my mind the entire trip.

Just outside of San Diego we stopped for dinner in the world's worst Outback Steakhouse (waitress, "where you from?" group, "Seattle." waitress, "is that like, in Arizona?") not that any of them are good, but try finding a non-chain restaurant south of Irvine. So, I'm shaking from exhaustion caused by my flight back from Stockholm and subsequent drive to San Diego and in my fatigue I made one of those stupid-call-your-recently-ex-girlfriend phone calls -- the kind where you're hoping for the-not-ever-going-to-happen reconciliation. It was a tough call to make -- mainly because I didn't want my friends to know. I've got too much pride for that. I didn't really want to get back together, but my spirit was broken from the travel and I was just looking for the comfort source that had been in my life the prior six months. Fortunately, she didn't answer, and I was able to leave one of those lame voice mail apologies for my yellow enveloped letter (verbatim: "you may not want to open the yellow envelope when it arrives").

Two and a half years later, the Nåid CD brings back all the memories of Stockholm and San Diego and Baja California (the eventual destination of the San Diego drive). Baja is another story, one that is summarized by my 2003-Baja quote, "you go down there with all your mind, but only come back with half." Nevertheless, the Baja trip makes it into this story since it was a major catalyst in shaping my present mind (and, no, no psychotropics, just mucho Pacifico and perhaps four or five fish tacos)... I think God gave Noah the rainbow and dove as a peace offering -- and hey, that's cool in my book, but there's also a lot of solace in the combination of this week's song, a Baja sunset, and a fish taco or two.

Fragmented, but it isn't me, it's the decongestants... No more yellow letters.

/tq

While waiting for life that sucks to die, why not listen to my favorite unsigned bands: TQ's Garage Band Playlist.