YESTERDAY'S GONE
I wrote this at lunch today, on the theory that the world needs more poems about Fleetwood Mac.
Fleetwood Mac
Eileen if I still knew you
I’d borrow your copy of Rumours
And put it on my iPod.
Well, everything except Oh Daddy
And Dreams. Ah, but maybe
I’d keep Dreams
To remind me of
Your love for Stevie.
Yes, I’d keep Dreams
Eileen if I still knew you.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
SCISSORS
Taeko is now pretty much obsessed with the DDR I got her for our anniversary. Pretty good at it too.
Me? I'm like some sort of degilled marine creature flopping around on the land, trying to figure out just how these things you call "legs" work.
All the songs are knockoffs, but I'll be goddammed if even the fake version of I Don't Feel Like Dancin' is not totally awesome...
Taeko is now pretty much obsessed with the DDR I got her for our anniversary. Pretty good at it too.
Me? I'm like some sort of degilled marine creature flopping around on the land, trying to figure out just how these things you call "legs" work.
All the songs are knockoffs, but I'll be goddammed if even the fake version of I Don't Feel Like Dancin' is not totally awesome...
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Friday, January 18, 2008
YOU ARE A TAR-ZHAY MARKET
It’s pretty amazing how ambient music has evolved.
And here I don’t mean “ambient” as a specific genre or subgenre. Rather, I’m just talking about the music they play in public while you do stuff.
This afternoon in the men’s room at the Westin Alexandria, they played La Femme d'Argent by Air.
And the day after Christmas at the Potomac Mills food court, they were playing World Shut Your Mouth. Which is the most awesome choice of songs to play at a mall food court, for post-holiday Americans wallowing in obesity of body and spirit.
Most. Awesome. Choice. Ever.
Ambient Music Selecting Geniuses, I want to shake your hand.
I want to consume, piss quickly and efficiently, avoid the urge to shoplift, consume more, and then shake your blessed hand…
It’s pretty amazing how ambient music has evolved.
And here I don’t mean “ambient” as a specific genre or subgenre. Rather, I’m just talking about the music they play in public while you do stuff.
This afternoon in the men’s room at the Westin Alexandria, they played La Femme d'Argent by Air.
And the day after Christmas at the Potomac Mills food court, they were playing World Shut Your Mouth. Which is the most awesome choice of songs to play at a mall food court, for post-holiday Americans wallowing in obesity of body and spirit.
Most. Awesome. Choice. Ever.
Ambient Music Selecting Geniuses, I want to shake your hand.
I want to consume, piss quickly and efficiently, avoid the urge to shoplift, consume more, and then shake your blessed hand…
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
TEENAGER IN LOVE
Today is our 15th wedding anniversary, and Taeko slipped a card into my brown-bag lunch.
This is what she wrote:
“Thank you for being so nice to me for 15 years!”
My first reaction was to giggle a little.
But after about 30 seconds, I could feel the sentiment evolving, and a minute later I realized it was incredibly profound.
So thank you, Taeko, for bearing with me and my veneer of cynicism and irony.
Thank you for being so nice to me for 15 years…
Today is our 15th wedding anniversary, and Taeko slipped a card into my brown-bag lunch.
This is what she wrote:
“Thank you for being so nice to me for 15 years!”
My first reaction was to giggle a little.
But after about 30 seconds, I could feel the sentiment evolving, and a minute later I realized it was incredibly profound.
So thank you, Taeko, for bearing with me and my veneer of cynicism and irony.
Thank you for being so nice to me for 15 years…
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
HELLO PANDA
The problem with Person Pitch is that the first three songs sync up pretty well with the length of my commute.
And they're so fucking brill in both the "-iant" and "Building" sense that for the longest time I've lacked real motivation to get involved with tracks 4-7.
I'm sure that Comfy in Nautica/Take Pills/Bros will begin to pall soon, and when they do, woo hoo, more Panda Bear for me...
The problem with Person Pitch is that the first three songs sync up pretty well with the length of my commute.
And they're so fucking brill in both the "-iant" and "Building" sense that for the longest time I've lacked real motivation to get involved with tracks 4-7.
I'm sure that Comfy in Nautica/Take Pills/Bros will begin to pall soon, and when they do, woo hoo, more Panda Bear for me...
Thursday, January 10, 2008
PERSON PITCH
As it turns out, my brother was at game one of the 1986 WS. I didn’t know this until a few years later.
I was sitting in his rented house, the one where the wood floor in the living room sloped to the west, and squirrels breached the flue routinely. He was working the remote, and stopped at a Mets’ game.
“What are you doing? You hate baseball.”
And that was true, as far as I knew. Baseball was my thing.
Growing up, I had a bottomless chest of baseball cards in my room, and had memorized all sorts of arcane facts and records.
I spent many afternoons as a kid hurling a tennis ball against my garage door, pretending I was Jon Matlack or Jerry Koosman. I played in the neighborhood street games with the boys my brother’s age, who chose me for their side before they chose him. I played little league, made all-star teams, went out for celebratory pizza and soda with the coach.
And all the while my brother glowered at the game. Said it was for “pussies.”
Really what it had become was a symbol. A symbol of how much easier things seemed to be for me. A symbol of all his struggles in the world.
But as we sat quietly and watched the game together that night, so much of the accreted bitterness dissolved away.
We sat and we watched, and we did not make a sound for destiny to hear...
As it turns out, my brother was at game one of the 1986 WS. I didn’t know this until a few years later.
I was sitting in his rented house, the one where the wood floor in the living room sloped to the west, and squirrels breached the flue routinely. He was working the remote, and stopped at a Mets’ game.
“What are you doing? You hate baseball.”
And that was true, as far as I knew. Baseball was my thing.
Growing up, I had a bottomless chest of baseball cards in my room, and had memorized all sorts of arcane facts and records.
I spent many afternoons as a kid hurling a tennis ball against my garage door, pretending I was Jon Matlack or Jerry Koosman. I played in the neighborhood street games with the boys my brother’s age, who chose me for their side before they chose him. I played little league, made all-star teams, went out for celebratory pizza and soda with the coach.
And all the while my brother glowered at the game. Said it was for “pussies.”
Really what it had become was a symbol. A symbol of how much easier things seemed to be for me. A symbol of all his struggles in the world.
But as we sat quietly and watched the game together that night, so much of the accreted bitterness dissolved away.
We sat and we watched, and we did not make a sound for destiny to hear...
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
SYMPATHY FOR THE RED SOX
Among my 2007 holiday swag was the nine DVD collection of every game of the 1986 World Series, plus the sixth and deciding game of the NLCS.
I have now watched the playoff game and the first WS game.
And going back to the beginning and starting with game one of the series raises the whole experience-- which exists in the memory as high drama-- to the level of Classical tragedy.
At the outset of that first broadcast, Vin Scully notes the heroic effort being put forth by Bill Buckner.
Scully returns again and again to the image of the hobbled warrior, who is earning the respect of friend and foe just by being out there.
And it is truly painful to watch, particularly when Scully points out that one of Buckner’s legs has atrophied due to his injuries. You squint a little and swear that you can notice the difference.
Then with the Sox holding a 1-0 lead, John McNamara replaces Buckner with Dave Stapleton for defensive purposes, and even the most hardened Mets fan must get a catch in the throat.
I muttered “Learn from that” under my breath when I watched this time around, but of course destiny did not listen...
Among my 2007 holiday swag was the nine DVD collection of every game of the 1986 World Series, plus the sixth and deciding game of the NLCS.
I have now watched the playoff game and the first WS game.
And going back to the beginning and starting with game one of the series raises the whole experience-- which exists in the memory as high drama-- to the level of Classical tragedy.
At the outset of that first broadcast, Vin Scully notes the heroic effort being put forth by Bill Buckner.
Scully returns again and again to the image of the hobbled warrior, who is earning the respect of friend and foe just by being out there.
And it is truly painful to watch, particularly when Scully points out that one of Buckner’s legs has atrophied due to his injuries. You squint a little and swear that you can notice the difference.
Then with the Sox holding a 1-0 lead, John McNamara replaces Buckner with Dave Stapleton for defensive purposes, and even the most hardened Mets fan must get a catch in the throat.
I muttered “Learn from that” under my breath when I watched this time around, but of course destiny did not listen...
Friday, January 04, 2008
TORQUED TONGUE
Things I learned on my winter break, part 1.
Panda Bear’s Comfy in Nautica makes a great soundtrack for your first car accident, particularly if the collision occurs on a road that encircles a large shopping mall.
Ah, sweet irony…
Here’s the damage report, for those of you scoring at home.
Body and spirit: undamaged. Car: $4,800.
Things I learned on my winter break, part 1.
Panda Bear’s Comfy in Nautica makes a great soundtrack for your first car accident, particularly if the collision occurs on a road that encircles a large shopping mall.
Ah, sweet irony…
Here’s the damage report, for those of you scoring at home.
Body and spirit: undamaged. Car: $4,800.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Friday, December 21, 2007
THE SAME WHEREVER YOU GO
So I can’t say the Pogues saved my life. But they did help me live. And for that I owe them a tremendous debt of gratitude.
They’re coming around again in March, and brain coral and I bought our tickets yesterday.
I can see doing this every two years or so for as long as it holds up…
Happy Xmas and a Merry New Year, all. I’ll be back in early January
So I can’t say the Pogues saved my life. But they did help me live. And for that I owe them a tremendous debt of gratitude.
They’re coming around again in March, and brain coral and I bought our tickets yesterday.
I can see doing this every two years or so for as long as it holds up…
Happy Xmas and a Merry New Year, all. I’ll be back in early January
Thursday, December 20, 2007
A FREEBORN MAN
Once upon a time, I had an argument with my mother.
Something to do with wasting potential and the lack of a rudder.
I remained calm throughout, as she pushed me for answers: What was I going to do? Where was I going?
“Somewhere. You'll see.”
“What, when you're dead?”
I flinched. She had to have noticed that I flinched.
God, no. Death had nothing to do with it.
She shut her bedroom door, and I retreated to my room without answering her.
“When I'm alive, mom. When I'm alive”
Once upon a time, I had an argument with my mother.
Something to do with wasting potential and the lack of a rudder.
I remained calm throughout, as she pushed me for answers: What was I going to do? Where was I going?
“Somewhere. You'll see.”
“What, when you're dead?”
I flinched. She had to have noticed that I flinched.
God, no. Death had nothing to do with it.
She shut her bedroom door, and I retreated to my room without answering her.
“When I'm alive, mom. When I'm alive”
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
BLOWFISH
Of course, it is best to defer to Hootie in times like this:
"Sometimes you're crazy and you wonder why
I'm such a baby 'cause the Dolphins make me cry..."
And I did actually cry small tears of joy when the 0-13 Fish caught a break and found their way to a win in OT. Thrust my arms in the air and cried...
Of course, it is best to defer to Hootie in times like this:
"Sometimes you're crazy and you wonder why
I'm such a baby 'cause the Dolphins make me cry..."
And I did actually cry small tears of joy when the 0-13 Fish caught a break and found their way to a win in OT. Thrust my arms in the air and cried...
Thursday, December 13, 2007
THE NECESSITIES AND MORE
And then there's this:
"Honest to goodness, the bars weren't open this morning,
They must have been voting for a new president of something.
Do you have a quarter?" I said "yes" because I did.
Honest to goodness the tears have been falling all over the country's face.
It was better before before they voted for what's his name,
This was supposed to be the new world...
"I said 'yes' because I did" seems like a throwaway line, until you let down your defenses a bit. Then suddenly it's a punch in the gut, and you're embarassed by how easy it is to lose your elemental humanity.
And really, fuck all the what's his names...
And then there's this:
"Honest to goodness, the bars weren't open this morning,
They must have been voting for a new president of something.
Do you have a quarter?" I said "yes" because I did.
Honest to goodness the tears have been falling all over the country's face.
It was better before before they voted for what's his name,
This was supposed to be the new world...
"I said 'yes' because I did" seems like a throwaway line, until you let down your defenses a bit. Then suddenly it's a punch in the gut, and you're embarassed by how easy it is to lose your elemental humanity.
And really, fuck all the what's his names...
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
THE FACTS WE HATE
And no, for once and for all, X were not hardcore. They were beatniks—beatniks who met in poetry workshops, fell in love sloppily, and wanted to play fast with a big old grin on their face.
They also said this:
"I'm guilty of murder of innocent men,
Innocent women, innocent children,
Thousands of them!
My planes, my guns, my money, my soldiers,
My blood on my hands,
It's all my fault!
I must not think bad thoughts."
Like I said, beatniks.
But if that doesn't resonate with you at all here in America v.2007, you're just about three-quarters fucked...
And no, for once and for all, X were not hardcore. They were beatniks—beatniks who met in poetry workshops, fell in love sloppily, and wanted to play fast with a big old grin on their face.
They also said this:
"I'm guilty of murder of innocent men,
Innocent women, innocent children,
Thousands of them!
My planes, my guns, my money, my soldiers,
My blood on my hands,
It's all my fault!
I must not think bad thoughts."
Like I said, beatniks.
But if that doesn't resonate with you at all here in America v.2007, you're just about three-quarters fucked...
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
Friday, December 07, 2007
UNLEADED
A couple of weeks ago I stopped to get gas on the way to work. It was about 7:45 AM when I pulled up to the pumps. My windows were down halfway, and I was playing the untitled instrumental from In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Pretty loudly, if you must know.
While I was filling my tank, a woman pulled up to the other side of the island. She was probably in her early 60s, and as she peered around to my side, I was sure that she was about to complain about the volume of the music.
"What is that?" she asked, with no rancor and obvious curiosity. "Is it Irish?"
I was so prepared to apologize that it took me a few seconds to formulate a different response.
"There's some Celtic in there I guess. But they also have roots in Louisiana."
"Louisiana. Huh." She paused to listen some more. "Very interesting."
I thought about that woman all day...
A couple of weeks ago I stopped to get gas on the way to work. It was about 7:45 AM when I pulled up to the pumps. My windows were down halfway, and I was playing the untitled instrumental from In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Pretty loudly, if you must know.
While I was filling my tank, a woman pulled up to the other side of the island. She was probably in her early 60s, and as she peered around to my side, I was sure that she was about to complain about the volume of the music.
"What is that?" she asked, with no rancor and obvious curiosity. "Is it Irish?"
I was so prepared to apologize that it took me a few seconds to formulate a different response.
"There's some Celtic in there I guess. But they also have roots in Louisiana."
"Louisiana. Huh." She paused to listen some more. "Very interesting."
I thought about that woman all day...
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