For years I’ve made breakfast. No matter how little sleep I’ve had the night before, no matter how hungover I may be. The children get their pancakes. Or muffins. Or crêpes. Even it it’s only yogurt and granola, my compulsion over presentation demands I layer the yogurt and granola in a clear wine glass, sprinkle flax meal across the top, tuck in an apple slice or few grapes, then wrap it up with a sprig of fresh mint. I suppose I’m driven by the hope that some day, when my maternal failures are totaled up, I’ll at least be able to point to my dedication to breakfast as proof I wasn’t a total loser.
However, what’s always been lacking while breakfast-making, has been the ability to listen to music. The computer is all the way across the house. The stereo boasts only radio since the CD player broke. Every morning, as I bustle around, I wish for music to set the pace, raise the mood and otherwise kick the day off to a good start. Why did it take me so long to buy portable speakers for the iPhone? They’re not that expensive. I certainly blow similar amounts of money on less rewarding expenses.
Well, finally I did! And now I can start the day with the Be Good Tanyas or Neil Young or The Black Keys or a whole mix of favorites or even just let my KEXP Song of the Day podcast play on and on – oh, the fun of falling for new music! “Wait, who is this?” – I hastily wash the flour off my hands, dry them and check the info on the phone. “Hey, it’s The Fucking Eagles! Yes!” Or the latest cut by the Eels or finally I recognize that Passion Pit when I hear it. Or maybe I go back to the familiar and dance around the kitchen to Prince while waiting to flip the pancakes. Whatever my mood is, I’m so happy to have music to accentuate, compliment or change it.
early morning fog, partial clearing 