I've managed to dig up a business/mailing-address for Ringo Starr, and one for Pete Townshend as well. I'd love to send a fan letter, but sadly, I don't have anything intelligent to say or anything to ask about. (Then again, when do I ever have anything intelligent to say?) It'd kinda be a waste of paper to just scribble "Hello, Mr Starr, My name is Lilly and I'm a huge fan. Blah blah blah music rocks blah blah blah you seem like a fun guy blah blah blah it's awesome that you do a bunch of charity blah blah blah." About the same thing for Mr Townshend, except more space would be dedicated to idiotic slobber about his mad guitar skillz.

I don't talk much. For one, I'm better at expressing myself through print. I suppose it's the product of being a very withdrawn, quiet kid who writes down her daydreams and prefers to stay within that realm instead of chatting her classmates up. For two, you don't learn very much if you talk all the time. I think that's a problem with the world today. Everybody's too interested in talking and shouting and chattering and gossipping. Nobody wants to listen. Nobody wants to learn. There's a lot to be said for contemplative silence. Speaking out is great when you've got something interesting to speak out about, but usually (for me, at any rate), these interesting things only come of long contemplative silences. Shit, sometimes I don't speak at all over the course of three days. I just don't have that many people to talk to, and don't have much interesting to share. What I've got to share, I share on the Mama Musa page or this blog or Livejournal (though I've been hanging out at LJ less and less these days).

A random thought:

I wish I were in Oregon with Mr Hobo-Won Kanobe. Nice guy. And I've always wanted to see shoes made by a real craftsman instead of some kid in Asia on the news. I enjoy seeing how things are made--what kind of things are required to make it, what kind of work is required to shape it. Which is why I like watching the Travel Channel's "Made in America" show. I learned how Pyrex dishes are made, and the sticker-things that go on the sides of trucks, and police vans, and Scotch tape. (God bless Scotch tape.) Sometimes it seems like Mr Hobo-Won is the only one who helps me out. I know that's not true, but sometimes it seems that way.