As it turned out, the playing of "synthesizer music" at the reading this past Sunday didn't actually mean that music was going to be played on a synthesizer. I was hoping to see an old modular in action: even took my camera. Alas, the music was played on a CD player. But it was a fascinating reading, with some terrific 8x10 photos that were displayed on an overhead projector until it overheated, after which they were passed around. I did pop for the book, a slightly discounted signed first edition. The Dearest One will be giving it to me for my holiday gift, so I don't actually have it at the moment.

One current-events tidbit I learned is that Bob Moog has finally gotten his name back. I'd heard that the Minimoog is in production again (at a price I can't afford), but it didn't occur to me that the reason it hadn't been reintroduced before now is that it couldn't be—at least not under its real name.


We did get together with Jessamyn and Greg yesterday afternoon, and had a perfectly nice time. Lunch in Dewitt Mall (which is actually the old high school), at a place where you eat on wobbly tables surrounded by a small pet store's worth of aquariums. Below the aquariums, there's a colorful display of oversized Braille. I asked a guy who works there about it, since he seemed to have some kind of authority. He said that nobody remembered anymore, but it was "something from Burroughs about fish and life." I assumed he meant William Burroughs, but now I wonder if it was Edgar Rice Burroughs.

After eating, we poked around a bit, wandering, including a failed attempt at finding the path that runs from the downtown area up to Cornell through a gorge with waterfalls. We followed some water running alongside parking lots, and were led to some large, loud construction equipment. Greg chucked little stones into the water. Jessamyn worked on her own throwing style. Greg declined to pull up a heavy post that was dangling by cables over a precipice. Jessamyn expressed a desire to become a heavy-equipment operator.

Then, at the mostly-lame "visitor's center" (it's a rack of pamphlets) in the interesting old Clinton Hall (home of the Kitchen Theater), Jessamyn found the path on a map. Off we went.



Tomorrow the Dearest One and I leave for Berwick, PA, where an aunt and uncle and cousins of hers are having us for Thanksgiving. Provided they don't literally have us for Thanksgiving, we'll be back here again at some point. Happy Thanksgiving, if that's something you do. If not, Happy Thursday.