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PlayArrowI’d just finished a piece, and having run out of ways to avoid starting the new one… wait, I’ll mess with my audio clips again. Ah, that’s better. On my home page—above the fold, so to speak—and down the side of every other page are placed the things I think people would want to see, should they want to see anything: what music is about to be performed, how to get in touch, some things to hear, more links to some pieces, and so on. The “and so on” things get pushed down further.

I used to update the radio shows (weekly for Now Is the Time, monthly for Fleisher) in the sidebars. Now, just links to the main pages. I still post about each show, as people seem to like those.

Every Broad Street Review article and WRTI CD suggestion had been listed, but no longer. Because both concerns haven’t found a way to discourage me, there are now too many to sluice down the page, so I link them en masse to one Writings page, where one may discover in one place the deathless jabber.

For the audio, I’d put a “music player” jukebox-type contraption on there. At first I thought it looked edgy but it grew into a big black block assaulting the eye (plus it was hard to update), so I took it down and put back the individual vanilla players. I also winnowed the number of pieces to listen to. There’s audio all over the place, coupled with the landing pages for the works (easiest way to find those is from the Music tab at the top), but I did want to highlight some. I make a big, big deal about Vespers, for instance, but never had one audio excerpt of it in front, which was, if not stupid, then… well, OK it was stupid.

So there it all is. People like pictures, so say people, so I put an image on every post. This is good for my double-duty posts, as they provide another way to link back to WRTI or BSR. The home page is still quite image-challenged, though; don’t yet know what to do about that. The top banner has a rotating assortment of photos of me. There’s no picture of me that I can stand to look at for too long, hence the mixing-up.

Oh, I did stumble upon a trick, after relating the above to a friend of mine who is smarter than I am—I make it a point to hang out with people smarter than I am. (This being, by the way, a great life secret I also stumbled upon; for me, anyway, not so great for them.) I felt beleaguered, on these posts, in email, and on Facebook, with incessant spell-checking. Why does everyone have spell-checking nowadays?, I asked my friend. It’s not that I think I know better than a computer, although I’m actually obsessive about such things. It’s that so often I use musical or foreign terms and names, and it keeps wanting to bully me into something else.

I disable it in Microsoft Word, but I haven’t been able to… “It’s not the programs,” said Smart Friend, “it’s your browser.” You mean, I can change the Preferences and get rid of that? “Yep,” he said.

Waitress, take care of this fellow across the table here, would you? His glass is running low.

So I unchecked spell-check in the browser, I’m no longer being bothered by the incessant prodding to a word I don’t want, and am now as hoppy as can be.

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