Currently there is some sort of horrible germ wending its way among my circle of friends and acquaintances, devastating us all. Oddly, it seems to have struck during a bout of really good (re: warm) weather, instead of in the middle of the bastardly ice storms we’ve been having here. I will, rest assured, suitably freak out if I see any more random dead birds on the streets. Otherwise, I’m fairly upbeat, having heard from a little (not dead) bird that a boy I’m kind of interested in might sorta kinda be interested back (!), though he might have also been the source of contagion for this current phase of illness. C’est la vie.

I’m also floating on a cloud of tea and cold medication, because yesterday, two packages arrived at my doorstep:

These boots were made for walking. With proper insoles for my flat duck feet, of course.

1) A pair of boots from Zappos.com (free overnight shipping on all shoes if you order before tomorrow! bye-bye, bank accounts, hello shoes!)

2) A copy of “These Boots Were Made for Walking,” a complete set of recordings that Lee Hazlewood did during his time at MGM Studios.

Now who in the heck is this Lee Hazlewood character?, you might ask. He is the Svengali-like figure responsible for Nancy Sinatra’s career. A mix of campy pop and psychedelic country, his music is exactly what my ear has been straining for my entire life, and I didn’t even know it. I got turned on to him by my friend Louise, when we drove up to Chicago together. She’d made a mix CD and this song came up:

If you know anyone named Phaedra, this song is the reason why.

“What is this song?”

“Oh, it’s a duet of Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood. Weird, isn’t it? My friend and I consider this our hangover song.”

I honestly can’t say I’ve heard anything like this. Johnny Cash comes close, because of the similarities of voice, but there’s something quite bizarre and ethereal about this particular song. Hence began my recent obsession with all things Lee Hazlewood. And then I came across this article, from the end of January:

Lee Hazlewood is ready to die. Suffering excruciating pain from renal cancer, Hazlewood, the reclusive singer, songwriter and producer doesn’t have much time left, maybe a year if he’s lucky. So he has been preparing for what he calls his impending “dirt nap”.

I do seem to have a tendency for getting into artists just before, or right around the time of their death. Kurt Cobain in middle school, Elliott Smith, Jeff Buckley, Johnny Cash, and now Lee. So, let this be a caution to you, if you are an artist: if I begin to express interest in your work, write up your will now! Get your things in order before the cold hand of creatively-spurred death grips your shoulder. I’m looking at you, members of Arcade Fire! (kidding, please don’t go! You’ve already had your Funeral! )