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2003-07-15 || 8:13 a.m. || phantom phoooooooone!! ! ! !! !! ! || the yellow phone in the living room, the old fashionedy ringing bell phone that i've had since i was sixteen, has decided it's tired and fed up with the state of things. last night i picked up the receiver expecting a dial tone and instead heard a lady giving the weather forecast. i put it back down. picked it back up. the lady was talking about traffic. unplug the cord. replug the cord. check brian's phone, which is much more phone-like and accepting of its fate. try one more time. the beach boys. it sounds all haunty, actually, although the beach boys isn't the ghostiest band i could think of. there is static and music and voices, kind of like listening in on a fabulous summer barbeque in this very house forty years ago, and you hold your breath and stay still so no one know's you're in on it. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |