a monkey tale

[dedicated to mark] there once lived a young capuchin monkey, named ampersand, who worked in the HR division of a corporate barrel grinder maker, basin barrels. basin, while often recognized for innovations in barrel grinder technology, was most renowned for its direct model barrel grinder, an affordable, high-quality, customized barrel for both the professional performing organ grinder, and the at-home hobbyist. ampersand himself had a certain passion for his tiny, shiny lap-top barrel grinder, and had, over the years, collected many rare and hard-to-find music rolls to play on it. secretly, he sought to share this music with the world, with hope to encourage and sustain a growing community in music.

you should also know that, once, ampersand owned a pet lovebug, named hobbes, whom, ampersand believed, loved him very much (and whom ampersand loved equally in return). one day, hobbes escaped out the back door, and never returned. ampersand was heartbroken.

ampersand eventually came across a new lovebug, named stevie, who wasn't really a lovebug, but a hatebug disguised as as lovebug. ampersand had no clue until, one day, he came home from the barrel grinder factory to find that steve had chewed up some rods and levers on his beloved laptop barrel grinder. furious, ampersand threw steve out the window. despite ampersand's continued mourning the loss of hobbes, he is painfully reminded of steve's hatred every day, as he opens the laptop to play.

ampersand has travelled far, across a desert and into a rather structured jungle, to work for basin barrels, only to find he misses the thrill of his wild country days. while he's grateful for the change of pace and decent wages, he longs for the days of street grinding. soon, he thinks, he might return to to those cobblestone roots and working for bananas. for now, he pretends he's on a journey of epic, primatial proportions and continues to take what he needs from the experience of working for a despairingly smart, and profitable, barrel grinder company.

like a brand new rodboard for his beautiful little laptop at home. which happens to work like a charm.

to celebrate, he'd like to play you an oldie but goodie. per "found" request over at the girl across the street from the girl next door's place. i'd forgotten i gave a copy of this mix to her, but then again, i'm not surprised -- i gave a lot of close friends a burned cd-r of the mix. anyone i thought would understand. i know i gave colleen a copy, for she was my sophomore-year sister of slitwrist thinking; i'm sure greg got one, and i know nick and i spent a few speechless, summer hours on the couch, watching this mix have-at the itunes visualizer on our tv screen. it was a very personal project, born from the long and grey days of a february depression, and the music on the radio and on my laptop (yeah, same one) that helped me survive it. even as i listen to it now, i feel like it's a conversation with my old self, sitting in my old bedroom, the sights and smells of this room taking on the ones of memory...

before anyone else, though, i sent it to jeff. and this, brother, is where i invite you to finish the yarn i've begun spinning -- it's my favorite part. i'll be checking comments religiously, bro, so don't dally.

but without further ado: they don't love you like i love you. [even i've lost my original copy -- there's a zip file of the whole mix here, too. <3 ryan]