VIII: I agree

In a way, I've been in an abusive relationship with myself for 10 years.

I don't mean it like that (or do I?) but I certainly have taken out a lot of frustration on myself, in various ways. This isn't even what I want to be talking about. A lot of my thoughts lately have been far more philosophical than I am equipped to handle, express, or even have.

Who's to say when an idea begins? Speaking as someone who has had one or two I certainly can't say. It starts with something, then that becomes something else, or many things become something together. There was something like that in Derrida, but I never got Derrida and didn't write about him on my exam for the explicit reason that I just didn't get it, to my detriment. Foucault I kinda got. Genealogy is a neat concept and probably has something to do with this thought. Look it up. I've got a copy of the Norton Anthology of Literary Theory, if you wanna buy it on the cheap.

Album cover art is a dying art, I once heard. I shared this thought with a customer who was buying two copies of John Mayer's Battle Studies because she said she didn't have the heart to copy it; she professed a belief that when you don't buy the CD, it's the people who design the package who really lose out, which is actually a shame. In the world of iTunes and such, cover art isn't much of a priority because you don't see it much. Yet a good album cover can really sell music, because after all, you often see the image before you hear the music, at least, if you work in a record store. A great album cover can suggest an idea of the music in a way that doesn't involve directly playing it. The act of saying something without saying it. That's art, man, that's poetry. I'm not stoned. I swear.

This was a conversation I intended to have with Alicia, but she has long since disappeared and I will likely never see her again and that bothers me some, but by now it's just one of many notches on the wall. More abuse for my relationship with myself.

I see a lot of album covers, obviously, a lot more than I hear of music. Oftentimes people ask me if I've heard something, usually it's stuff I haven't and probably wouldn't want to (eg, the comparison of the new Creed or Theory of a Deadman.) I don't have time to listen to anything but what I already like, or what's on HMV Radio. Somehow, Panama by Van Halen got on there, which is weird. Not that I mind. It's Christmas Eve and they already took the Christmas music off, which shows great judgment by them.

I had a great moment yesterday, perhaps the greatest moment of my entire CD-selling career, which is probably overstating, or perhaps hammering home the point about how crappy the job can be sometimes (still better than any other gig.) I was stepping out of the back room and I see a guy browing the Pop/Rock section, around the S's. I ask, as is customary, if there's anything I can help with, and he say's not really, but wait, maybe. He's buying a gift for a guy, someone who really liked Stars' last album, could I recommend something that is like that? with Stars, my mind went back to Your Ex-Lover is Dead, so I thought "Pavement?" "No, more upbeat than Pavement." I puzzled on it a moment then shook my head and walked away unsure what to say. A moment later I found him again and asked how upbeat he wanted to go, and brought him to the Sounds, a ridiculously energetic punk-synthpop group from Sweden more people should have heard about by now (she may not remember it, but one of my first cool bonding moments with Alyssa was when she was giving me a lift home from her place when we were working on a project, and the Sounds' first CD was in her dashboard player.)

He had never heard them, so he asked if we could let him listen, the answer to which is yes. I put it on for him, nervously awaiting his verdict, as though somehow by filling this man's request, whom I had never met before and will likely never meet again, (never say never, but often say likely never) would validate my taste in music. I'm not asked for my opinion often, and I feel qualified to give it even less since the people I usually talk to are the ones who know what they want. The people who don't know what they want don't typically want what I like.

Earlier that day someone came in asking for "good jazz," of the basic variety, so I outlined the big names, Coltrane, Miles Davis, Ella Fitzgerald. The names I know far better than the recordings. Still, Kas (a coworker) was quite surprised by my knowledge. Well, I know what to recommend, but my opinions may not be worth much.

A couple weekends ago, I saw a woman thoroughly examining the collected editions of Band of Brothers, which comes in a tin. She was looking at each one for flaws - dents, creases and whatnot. She couldn't find one that was perfect, but she narrowed it down to two and asked me to help decide which was less imperfect. After we decided which one, I helpfully pointed out she was looking at Blu-Rays. She had been looking so closely at the tins she didn't even notice the labels.

Sometimes, people have their own perspectives.

You become a very astute observer of human behaviour when you work retail. So many people don't see you as a fellow human being with thoughts and feelings. I'm just the face of a heartless corporation out to get your money. Do I look like I know why it's cheaper at Future Shop? Shut the fuck up about it.

Anyway, that's all my thoughts on the world of retail, and since that's all that's going on in my life lately, that's it. Eric and I are having Lostmas. I haven't wrapped any gifts yet. It is after midnight.

Merry Christmas and keep on rockin'
-Scotto