Yeah, Another Blogger

In May of this year, Apple Music sent me an email that offered three months of their service for free. Considering that up until about 15 years ago I was a full-fledged music junkie, and that I’m still a major lover of music, it’s kind of surprising I wasn’t already enrolled in Apple Music or in one of its music-streaming peers, such as Spotify. Anyway, I hemmed and hawed for several weeks, eventually accepting the offer. Man, I’m close to ecstatic that I signed up. It blows my foggy mind that residing within my phone’s Apple Music app are countless thousands of albums, many of which I became intimately familiar with during the approximately 45 years that comprised my music-junkie era (I own circa 1,200 physical albums and used to attend concerts right and left). And as for the incredible number I was unfamiliar with but was interested in checking out, well, I’ve made a slight dent in that mountain. New-to-me albums by some of my very favorite artists (Sun Ra, Howlin’ Wolf, Bruce Springsteen and Ella Fitzgerald, to name but a few) and by at least 100 other artists have reached my ears thanks to Apple Music. I’ve been in music heaven the past two months, and possibly am on my way to becoming a long-term junkie again. There would be worse fates than that.

Yet, I have to say it almost seems wrong to have such an overwhelming amount of musical choice a mere handful of taps away. I mean, do I, or does anyone, deserve such unimaginable bounty? Am I, or is anyone, that entitled? I suppose those questions are moot. After all, billions of people own smartphones, laptops, etc., and each of those devices easily can access near-infinite amounts of content on any subject under the Sun. That’s where we are in the 21st century. It’s the new reality, something we usually or always take for granted. The digital world is a wonder of the highest order (though not always in good ways), and it is ever-expanding.

Which leads me to another corner of the streaming universe, that which supplies humanity with more series and movies than a person could consume in 1,000 lifetimes. So many choices! Most evenings, my wife Sandy and I click onto a streamer and watch a series for an hour or two. We’ve breezed through 27 series so far this year. I’ll briefly mention two I enjoyed immensely: The Residence, a whimsical, sprightly murder mystery set in the White House in Washington D.C., and The Pitt, a drama that follows a harrowing 15-hour shift in the emergency room of a Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania hospital. The Pitt contains more than a couple of graphic, bloody scenes, I should note. To my amazement, I didn’t close my eyes during them. Shit, I think that means I should go to medical school! If I start next year, I’ll become a licensed physician at age 84 or 85. What, you wouldn’t want an octogenarian diagnosing and treating you? I’m offended! By the way, you’ll find The Residence on Netflix, and The Pitt on HBO Max.

Last week, while I waited at an auto service center where my car was undergoing an oil change and safety inspection, Apple Music once again proved its amazingness to me. Nestled in a lounge area, I read a text message my brother Richie had sent to me regarding Terry Reid, a British rocker who passed away on August 4th at age 75. Richie mentioned that Reid was an opening act at a Rolling Stones concert he and I attended (at New York City’s Madison Square Garden) in November 1969. I have no recollection of Reid’s performance. And I have only partial memories of The Stones’ work.

Fortunately, recordings of The Stones from the show we were at, and from three other Stones concerts that November, appear on a classic Stones album, Get Yer Ya-Ya’s Out! I hadn’t heard the record in eons. Listening to it was the obvious choice for me to make. So, I tapped on my phone’s Apple Music app for a few seconds and — voila! — the album presented itself to me. I sat back and, via earbuds, listened all the way through. It’s a beauty.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea for me to conclude this piece with one of the tracks from Ya-Ya’s, right? I’ll go with Street Fighting Man. I’m a big fan of hard rock, as long as the songs are top-notch and the musicians are wailing like nobody’s business. This recording meets my criteria.