This YouTube clip of Eric Clapton performing the song with the Allman Brothers Band — in recognition of Duane Allman, one of the essential members of Derek and the Dominos — is pretty darned good. But then, I could listen to Eric Clapton play just about anything and still be a happy camper.
More than a year ago, my iPod unexpectedly died on me. I didn’t have any of my iPod songs or playlists on iCloud, nor did I have my iPod playlists on iTunes.
This was a disaster of the first order, because I love to listen to music. I crave music, and I had created playlists to suit my every mood. Suddenly, all of my carefully crafted playlists were . . . gone.
After a solemn ceremony and reassurance from the Genius Bar that I truly was screwed, I bought a new iPod and decided to start all over — going through every song on my iTunes library, from A to Z. I’ve been doing it for more than a year now. Along the way I deleted songs that were duplicative, or songs that I didn’t like. Those that remained were placed into new playlists. My progress was delayed when our old iMac also quit on me, but I kept at it.
Tonight, after more than a year of work, I finished culling the iTunes library and rebuilding the iPod. I went through an original library of more than 15,000 songs and chopped it down to a mere 7716, starting with Take on Me by a-Ha and ending with Love Song by 311. I’ve got baroque, and Motown, and holiday music, and Ashokan Farewell, and Sharp Dressed Man, and Jeff Beck’s Freeway Jam. I’ve got it all in my little bit of metal magic that’s smaller than a pack of cigarettes, and I’m ready to face the world again.
I’ve still got work to do, adding new songs from time to time, tinkering with the playlists, and perhaps creating a few more that I might discuss in the future. But tonight I’m done with my year-long project, and I feel like celebrating. Time to unhook the iPod and listen to Derek and the Dominos’ Key to the Highway.
When should people intervene to stop the potentially destructive behavior of another? A New Jersey situation raises that delicate question — on two levels.
The story involves a mother, Patricia Krentcil, who was arrested and charged with second-degree child endangerment. Police claim that she took her fair-skinned, red-haired five-year-old daughter to a tanning parlor, exposed her to a tanning bed, and gave the girl a sunburn as a result. Krentcil denies the charge and says the child got the sunburn playing outside on a warm day. She says she brings her daughter with her to the tanning parlor, but the girl waits nearby while only Krentcil gets into the tanning bed. She suspects that a teacher overheard her five-year-old say that she went to the tanning parlor and reached the wrong conclusion.
In my view, it’s hard to justify the state arresting and charging a mother with child endangerment under such circumstances, which apparently involves just one incident, no pattern of behavior, and a condition — a child’s sunburn — that has an entirely plausible, innocent explanation.
But look at the picture of Ms. Krentcil. She admits to excessive tanning, and judging from the grotesque, leathery appearance of her skin, perhaps she even has an addiction to it. How can the tanning parlor, to say nothing of her husband and her family, continue to allow her to expose herself to UV rays under such circumstances? Shouldn’t tanning parlor attendants, like bartenders, have an obligation to cut people off when they’ve had enough?
Businesses often complain about “unnecessary” government regulations, but businesses can be as responsible for regulatory overload as overzealous bureaucrats. If New Jersey tanning parlors are fine with taking money from misguided folks and then allowing them to tan, tan, tan until they look like an old shoe at the back of the closet, the tanning parlors shouldn’t be heard to complain when the state decides it needs to step in.
Edvard Munch’s The Scream is now officially the most expensive painting sold at auction — in fact, the most expensive artwork of any kind sold at auction. It went for $120 million to an anonymous bidder in an auction that lasted 12 minutes.