Lawnmowers and Music
Do I get a badge that says “honorary member of the old fart club”, or something? I went shopping at lunchtime on the internet, and ordered a new lawnmower. If I had not done so, the garden would have been used to film the next sequel in the Jumanji franchise.
Of course I couldn't just buy a lawnmower. I had to buy an extension cable too (we have had petrol mowers for years, but I really can't be arsed with spending three times more for something three times more unreliable). I don't really care if an electric lawnmower will last a third of the time either – I'll buy three of them, and it will work out at the same cost.
The whole debacle reminds me of printers and ink. I don't know if it's still the case, but you used to be able to buy inkjet printers with ink cartridges in them for less than the cost of a set of new ink cartridges. My other half would never let me throw the printer away each time it ran out of ink – so we ended up re-filling it repeatedly.
It's the same argument as the person that can afford expensive boots – that cost twice as much, but last for 10 years – versus the person that can only justify cheaper boots – that cost half as much, but only last 2 years. People without much money end up spending more than those with money – and it drives me nuts.
Anyway.
See! This is what happens. You get older, and you write a blog post complaining about lawnmowers, or inkjet printers, or whatever else.
What happened to enthusing about television shows, or music? While we're talking about that, what happened to watching or listening to pretty much anything any more? We are subscribed to Prime, Netflix, and Britbox at home – I don't watch any of it. The kids do. My other half does. I noodle around on the internet, and listen to a free Spotify subscription. I'm pretty sure my brain has constructed it's own ad blocking technology – I couldn't tell you what adverts play between tracks on Spotify.
I'm sitting here in silence writing this, if you are interested. Just the sound of my fingers tapping away at the keys. I'm the only person still “up” at 10pm. My sleeping bag is waiting for me in the lounge (if you haven't been reading, my other half has COVID and is isolating in the bedroom).
I wonder what music I might listen to tonight while trying to get comfortable in the sleeping bag? I have an old playlist on Spotify that's been something of a “go to” for the last several years. I built it with a friend, and filled it full of ear-worms of the 1970s and 80s.
Listening to those tunes now remind me of evenings walking the streets in Frankfurt – where I worked on-and-off for a couple of years. I would wander the streets on my own, messaging back and forth music suggestions, and listen my way around the city.
It's a good memory.