I live in a spacious and bright apartment in a small provincial town, at the foot of gentle hills covered with vineyards. I am pleased to have moved from the city where, as a young rebel, I would slip along the suburban walls to dive into the flourishing urban underground scene. But alas, countless decades have now passed, and other needs drive me now.
My apartment also has a terrace spacious enough to sometimes allow my lady and me to dine "outside" or have breakfast while admiring the numerous trees surrounding the building.
For space reasons, I furnished the terrace with two comfortable garden chairs and a little table to which I am very attached, dating back to my childhood. It consists of a stainless-steel tube base and a red formica top with an always stainless-steel edge. In Italian kitchens, in the late 1960s, it was quite common.
However, due to its age and probably also because of the not-perfectly-even floor, I've always had to keep it against the wall to avoid a small but most annoying wobble that slightly hinders our peaceful dining.
But even set up this way, there remains a tiny oscillation.
Annoying, believe me.
For instance, a few days ago I was listening to "Chelsea Girl" (yes, yes, the one by Nico) but every time I leaned on the table, the clinking of the cup distracted me from being absorbed in the music...
Until yesterday, when I realized the solution was within reach.
Swiftly, I dashed to the study where I keep some of my precioussss (Gollum reference) to emerge shortly after holding with two fingers, at a safe distance, a CD that for some ill-fated reason had ended up in my home.
Nimbly inserting the silvery disc under the offending leg (of the table), I realized the balance was perfectly restored.
But it doesn’t end there: after placing the booklet in the appropriate recycling bin (paper), I promptly recycled the case too, replacing it with the unfortunately cracked one from "Betrayal!" by the Lapse.
To celebrate, I listened to "You're Living All Over Me" by Dinosaur Jr in its entirety.
What can I say, a CD isn’t always this useful!
Oh, for the record: it was "Medusa" by Clan of Xymox
"The title track is already in itself a combination of Passion and Pain that freezes the blood in your veins..."
"'BACKDOOR'... leaves you no escape.. not from anything or anyone... How many times tears streaked my face as I heard it..."