Are you listening to a lot of Neil Young?

I am. Right now, I'm doing so while gessoing a canvas (It isn't really gesso; it's Benjamin Moore Super Hide Latex Primer), drinking tea and screwing around.

Why, you surely ask?

Well, there's the obvious reason. But besides that, I was walking the dog this morning and heard a Harley coming up the street. It was one of those particularly fat ones, with a full front fairing and windshield, big saddlebags, and a seat that looks like it belonged on a tractor. Except padded.

What made all this noteworthy, there on 6th Avenue in the middle of the better part of the South Slope, is that it wasn't the exhaust note I heard filling the air. It was Neil Young, blasting so loud from they guy's speakers (yes, the really fat Harleys have sound systems) that the windows shook.

I guess it's hard to hear the music with a helmet on.

Anyway, he was playing Don't Let It Bring You Down from After the Goldrush. Which goes something like this:

Old man lying
by the side of the road
With the lorries rolling by,
Blue moon sinking
from the weight of the load
And the building scrape the sky,
Cold wind ripping
down the allay at dawn
And the morning paper flies,
Dead man lying
by the side of the road
With the daylight in his eyes.

Don't let it bring you down
It's only castles burning,
Find someone who's turning
And you will come around.

Blind man running
through the light
of the night
With an answer in his hand,
Come on down
to the river of sight
And you can really understand,
Red lights flashing
through the window
in the rain,
Can you hear the sirens moan?
White cane lying
in a gutter in the lane,
If you're walking home alone.

Don't let it bring you down
It's only castles burning,
Just find someone who's turning
And you will come around.

Don't let it bring you down
It's only castles burning,
Just find someone who's turning
And you will come around.