Monday, December 26, 2005

Odd memory, random chance

Friday night, I had a dream. I don't remember what the dream was about, in fact, I don't remember the dream at all. All I remember is that I woke up and I remembered this track I had heard a few times back in college (I might have the MP3 somewhere). There was a man with a really unique, full, booming speaking voice (Godlike, perhaps?), and he recorded an album about colors. It had some off-the-wall stuff with his voice laid over jazz, stuff like how green didn't want yellow to be in spectrum, but blue stuck up for yellow, reminding green that blue and yellow could get together and make their own green. I didn't remember all those specifics during that moment in which I awoke. I just had some notion of that guy in my head, and I thought was that I needed to look that guy up when I woke up for real. I thought that maybe I should write something down. Nardeen. That's what I should write down. Ken? But I didn't get up; my desire to sleep won. I rolled back over and told myself that I needed to remember to look something up.

Amazingly, when I finally woke up Saturday morning, I actually did remember that I had told myself to remember something. Something like Ken Bardeen or Ken Nardeen. I wrote down Ken Nardeen on a scrap of paper within five minutes of being awake and went about my day.

At some point in the afternoon, I tried googling for something about voice, colors, jazz. Nothing seemed to come up, so I gave up. I was so certain that Nardeen was so wrong, so way off, that I didn't even try searching for it.

Then Sunday night, I was driving home from my Aunt and Uncle's home where my family had just gathered for Christmas. There was a story being read on NPR, something about a golden dreydl (as sundown of the 25th was the start of Hanukkah this year). The voice prompt on my GPS unit went off, so I turned off the radio to listen and navigate a few turns. A few minutes later, I turned the radio back on.

It was him. That voice, it had to be him. Telling Christmas stories over jazz tunes. Yes, it was him, I was certain. So I listened. And at one point he said, "Oh, hey, it's me, Ken Nardeen," in that unforgettable bass of his. Something like Nardeen. I still wasn't sure about the pronunciation. But I was shocked at how close I was.

This morning, I turned to Amazon and Google to figure it out. Ken Nordine is his name. He had a holiday special on WBEZ. Plus I found that album Colors. Give it a listen (especially the track Yellow; open that link in Windows Media Player).

What are the odds that I'd (a) wake up thinking about something so random, something I haven't thought about in years; (b) actually remember it the next morning; that (c) he would happen to have a program on the radio the next day; that (d) I would happen to be tuned in to that particular station at that particular time and that (e) my memory of his name would be so close to being correct? Slim, I can tell you that. Or maybe I'm just psychic. But wow, what a random sequence of events. Whatever the odds, that Colors album is now on my wish list.

Monday, December 19, 2005

Bob Loblaw Law Blog

Arrested Development sure is a great show. Too bad it's cancelled. I must have hit the rewind button ten times during tonight's episode. So many absurd moments. Bob Loblaw Law Blog. Hehe.

Thursday, December 08, 2005


I got trapped in a parking garage last Sunday. It was crazy. As you pull in, you get a ticket, the gate opens, then a garage door opens, and then you park. No big deal. I did my shopping (at the Trader Joe's on Clybourne) and when I went back to the garage (validated ticket in hand), there was a line of cars by the garage door. A cop came and spoke with me and told me that the door was jammed about three feet open. He lamented that it was the only exit and quipped, "Can you imagine if this were an emergency?" He then told me that managers were called and someone should be here any minute.

After about five minutes (I ate a newly-purchased piece of fruit), I decided to go see for myself. I knew that the garage door at my parents' house had an emergency pull cord to release the door from the chain. There was no such cord on this door. Though there was a sticker indicating that there should be a pull cord. Shady. And trying to just lift the door nearly gave me a hernia.

Another guy started poking around and commented to me that if we removed two bolts, we could disconnect the door from bracket which attached it to the chain. Seemed like a plausible idea. I told him so, and he returned with some pliers. He found some cinder blocks to stand on so that he could work. When he got the first one unscrewed, I lifted the door to take tension off the bolt so it could be removed. We repeated it for the second bolt and we were free.

All in all, it was only about a half hour event. And really, it was kind of fun being part of the door dismantling. No manager ever showed up. I hope they got fined; that emergency pull cord release is there for a reason!