Nine People in Algeria

It’s still raining in New Orleans. It has been a long time since I’ve stayed in a house an entire day and it’s silly, I mean, I have an umbrella and a raincoat and legs, but just can’t seem to get motivated to get up and go anywhere. I caught up on my Stephen Colbert monologues, found a hilarious duet with him and James Taylor from 2015, got my e-mails down to five. But it’s 4 o’clock and still raining and here I still am.

 I checked my blog stats, as I sometimes do, which includes the places people come from who have read my blogs. And I noticed that 9 people from Algeria had read one recently. And that intrigues me. First off, they would have to read English. Not that surprising these days as English has far surpassed Esperanto as the international language. But wondering if they’re travelers or ex-pats or native Algerians. And if the latter, what do they think about these little essays on teaching music or figuring out how to survive the Trump Error or my little excursions about jazz and culture and education? I have never been to Algeria, don’t think I ever met anyone from there, don’t know much about it beyond seeing many years back an old movie called The Battle of Algiers and singing a delightful song my colleague Sofia discovered called Pluf Tizen.

At times like this, I wish this blog were a bit more interactive, with comments from readers that inspired further thought and dialogue. Not that I could probably keep up with it in the midst of a busy life. But today I could! Have I mentioned that it’s raining?

So if any of you nine people in Algeria are inspired to comment, I’m here for you.