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Rocket Records and food for the birds

What I spent my paycheck on this week

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Food for hungry ears

So there I sat in my Volvo cringing as The Fray switched on in my CD player, and my hip friend looked at me dumbfounded and aghast.

Now I recognize, working for this fine rag, I should have all kinds of diverse, eclectic, indie musical tastes.

Not so, folks.

I’m afraid I veer toward what I like to refer to as “modern easy listening,” or what my significant one refers to as “crap” (I’m not listening to him, however: he considers butt-rock a musically viable choice).

But even I had to admit The Fray was, well, wearing thin at the edges, and I needed a bit of a five-CD tune-up.

Enter the fine, non-judgmental folks at Rocket Records who didn’t laugh at me (or crack rude jokes behind my back) when I asked for the Gomez CD; the kind gentleman even helped me, straight-faced, to make a decision whether to get Modest Mouse or Tori Amos’ latest (Modest Mouse) and whether to get the Shins’ most recent, or prior release (prior.)

Hip friends now welcome into my little black lair.

[Rocket Records, 3843 Sixth Ave., Tacoma, 253.756.5186]

Food for the birds

I love sleeping with my window open.  At about 4 a.m. or so, the birds start up, subtly at first, until they become a full-blown symphony orchestra right about the time the hounds ask to be let out after their long night’s sleep.

Call it nature’s alarm clock — added to the fresh air coming through the window, it makes me start my day happy.

So I decided if hearing birds makes me a happy girl (and since significant one will insist on sleeping with the windows closed as the birds drive him batty) then maybe feeding them will do my soul good.

Off I skipped to Chirp and Co., where I used to find the best-ever kitty litter (Vetbasis, lavender-scented corncob clumping litter) before Bill the puppy gave Mookie the cat a nervous breakdown, and we sent her to friends in Texas.

The bird feeder selection, as I remembered it, was fantastic, as was the selection of food. I chose a reasonably attractive squirrel-proof feeder and shell-less seeds, and happily set the whole shebang up under a secluded tree.

To date, no birds (or even squirrels) have come trick-or-treating, sadly enough.

Naturally, I suspect Bill and Tank, both bird dogs, may have something to do with it. 

Even still, I live in hope.

Heeeeeere, birdy birdy…..

[Chirp & Co and For Pet’s Sake, 3803 N. 26th St., Tacoma, 253.759.2884]

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