Ah, these pesky kids of today thinking their new-fangled technologies will replace the tools of the past. What do they know?

I own an IPod, and I am ready and eager in the wings waiting for next year’s model.  I love how MP3 players have changed the way I listen to music - there’s nothing better than tapping shuffle option and drifting into that altered state of six degrees of musical of relevance. Random tracks creating the faintest links of themes and music motifs – it is bliss.

But the mode of acquiring tracks as Colman points out leaves a lot to be desired. I can’t tell you how many times I have heard his Tusk story. And the design for most of the interfaces that are centered on the single track rather than the entire “package” creates another problem for me. Normally I want to digest the complete album on the drive back from the store.

And what about the of the tactile and social experience of the Record Shop? I am a creature of ritual and one of them is a weekly visit to Salzers, and the monthly (at least) trip to my record Mecca, Amoeba. I love thumbing through the bins and the surprise instore appearances. Last winter I got to see a free set by Elvis Costello at Amoeba and Salzers had Pete Yorn play a quick show supporting his new album. You can even purchase an EP of the event for a scant five bucks, cheap by even download standards.

Long live the record store - no links this time go out and see the stores in person.

So after letting a few months go by without posting so much as a sentence the prospects of the NANO project — write a novel in just a month — seems completely ridiculous and oddly alluring. So starting tomorrow I begin pounding the keys filled with an unplanned plot and as many dyslexic malapropos an hour as I can manage. Of course I probably will be just back to planning to pound those keys and finding any possible excuse I can to stave off actual production of prose. But maybe next month I will be forcing one of you to read my great short novella.

Be afraid.