We are often defined by what we like.
So...in no particular order, this is what I like:
Craft Beer
Bold Coffee
Indie Rock
Literary Fiction
Ubiquitous Connectivity
Spicy Food
Challenging Conversation
What half dozen or so things help define you?
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Evelyn Waugh was a man.
If you haven't seen it yet...
The Spike Jonze directed video for the Arcade Fire's title track "The Suburbs" is really...interesting.
The Spike Jonze directed video for the Arcade Fire's title track "The Suburbs" is really...interesting.
I've got old things, and you've got new things
I was talking with Erik and this band and album were mentioned (as sort of an aside)and it got me thinking about how much I loved this album. No, seriously. I would consume this album on a daily basis in 1996 and 1997 (and maybe a little into 1998).
Maybe it is because I understood the angstiness of the album in a way that was special to someone in their early twenties. I do believe that there is a special combination of emotions that you can only understand in the moment that occurs when you are 22, 23...26.
Anyway, this is Headshot, by Lifter, off the album Melinda (Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt) and I am going to listen to it as I go for my run.
Maybe it is because I understood the angstiness of the album in a way that was special to someone in their early twenties. I do believe that there is a special combination of emotions that you can only understand in the moment that occurs when you are 22, 23...26.
Anyway, this is Headshot, by Lifter, off the album Melinda (Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt) and I am going to listen to it as I go for my run.
Friday, November 19, 2010
The end is the beginning is the end
Yesterday morning, my Uncle Tracy and his family (from Metro-Orlando) and I planned my grandfather's service (with suggestions via e-mail from my mother) and I think we planned something nice and simple with what my grandfather would have wanted. One of the readings was Timothy 2 Chapter 4:6-8 and it was chosen specifically because it references "running the race" because my grandfather had run track while at Union (like his grandson) and that started a conversation about my grandfather's athletic abilities (because let's face it, when I can remember my grandfather, he was already almost sixty and...well...he had been a smoker since he was twelve) and I was amazed about the things that I didn't know about him.
After the planning of the service, we headed down to Spill'N the Beans for coffee and more conversation, and then back to my grandfather's house for even more reminiscing and it was...amazing. (I am using that word a lot, aren't I?) It also came up that I was giving the eulogy (to which my Uncle Mark, who is very ill right now and his treatments are causing him great pain threatened to shoot me if I didn't keep it short, because apparently I am loquacious) and that started me asking more questions.
We went our separate ways and met up at the funeral home at six for the family viewing. (My dad flew up from Florida, and that was awesome of him.) We all walked in and we noticed...
So, my grandfather had been on oxygen for the last few days of his life, and the nursing staff had been shaving around his mask. This gave him the appearance of having a goatee...
That my grandfather's corpse had a goatee. We all started giggling. Like really giggling. When I went to kneel before his casket, I was still giggling and giggled through the first part of my devotions.
The rest of the evening was spent talking about my grandfather and who he was.
After the family viewing, we were planning on returning to my grandfather's house to have pizza, beer, and more conversation. That being the plan, I went off to make sure to get more (and better) beer. My phone was on vibrate and in the pocket of my jacket, so I didn't get the two calls from my sister informing me that power was out in my grandfather's neighborhood. When I got back to my dad's rental with $60 of good beer, I received the news that we were headed to the Red Front for pizza and beer.
*sigh*
Anyway, we had another great night and great conversations, and we returned to our various abodes for the evening.
After a quick conversation (or conversations) with someone whom I felt that I needed I owed an apology because I have felt like an emotional burden to them, I went to bed, and then I woke up at 4 am to work on my eulogy.
Up and at 'em at 4 am, and I was working on the eulogy and a headache. I wrote down what I wanted to say and then consolidated it down to bullet points (and then, of course, put it on my phone) and I was happy with what I had written.
We needed to be at the funeral home at 8 am and I started getting dressed at 6:30 or so...
I had decided to wear one of my grandfather's bow ties (Union's colors) as a homage to him, as he was known for wearing them, and I thought it would be a nice gesture.
So...I haven't tied a bow tie in years (oh, but I rocked it) and it took me too long to tie it at home (oh, by the way, I had used my pre-rinse mouthwash before I had gotten dressed but I like to brush my teeth as the last thing I do before I leave, but I hadn't finished dressing yet and I was rushing out the door...I had to purchase a toothbrush at a Cumbie's) and I was working on tying the tie while I was headed down to the funeral home.
We had a quiet moment before loading the casket (where TEA saw his great-grandfather for the first time since before he went into the hospital and he burst into tears) and then the pallbearers (including TEA and my nephew Aidan and junior bearers) loaded the casket into the hearse.
We made our way to OLV for a brief wake before the funeral and I am thankful for all the people who came out. I was touched by some of the people who made the effort, and it is a celebration of who my grandfather was.
As a whole, we all kept it all together for most of the service, getting through the eulogy was difficult and I was unable to read, so I forgot some of the things I wanted to say, but...I made it through it.
As we were escorting the casket out of the church, "Oh Danny Boy" started to play, and at that point, TEA started crying, which got Aidan crying, and pretty soon...all of us were crying.
TEA was still crying as we were driving to the internment.
(A quick aside here, you see a funeral procession, you don't try to break into it right? But someone felt the need to make that happen. Some people have zero class, and I could just see her annoyed face [as she was annoyed by having to wait] if someone did that to her loved one's service.)
After the interment, we headed to Moscatiello's for a lovely reception.
Today was a fitting goodbye for my grandfather.
I want to take this to thank everyone for the e-mails, messages, texts, and calls about my grandfather. I appreciate everyone who took the time to care. It is amazing that so many people care and love me.
After the planning of the service, we headed down to Spill'N the Beans for coffee and more conversation, and then back to my grandfather's house for even more reminiscing and it was...amazing. (I am using that word a lot, aren't I?) It also came up that I was giving the eulogy (to which my Uncle Mark, who is very ill right now and his treatments are causing him great pain threatened to shoot me if I didn't keep it short, because apparently I am loquacious) and that started me asking more questions.
We went our separate ways and met up at the funeral home at six for the family viewing. (My dad flew up from Florida, and that was awesome of him.) We all walked in and we noticed...
So, my grandfather had been on oxygen for the last few days of his life, and the nursing staff had been shaving around his mask. This gave him the appearance of having a goatee...
That my grandfather's corpse had a goatee. We all started giggling. Like really giggling. When I went to kneel before his casket, I was still giggling and giggled through the first part of my devotions.
The rest of the evening was spent talking about my grandfather and who he was.
After the family viewing, we were planning on returning to my grandfather's house to have pizza, beer, and more conversation. That being the plan, I went off to make sure to get more (and better) beer. My phone was on vibrate and in the pocket of my jacket, so I didn't get the two calls from my sister informing me that power was out in my grandfather's neighborhood. When I got back to my dad's rental with $60 of good beer, I received the news that we were headed to the Red Front for pizza and beer.
*sigh*
Anyway, we had another great night and great conversations, and we returned to our various abodes for the evening.
After a quick conversation (or conversations) with someone whom I felt that I needed I owed an apology because I have felt like an emotional burden to them, I went to bed, and then I woke up at 4 am to work on my eulogy.
Up and at 'em at 4 am, and I was working on the eulogy and a headache. I wrote down what I wanted to say and then consolidated it down to bullet points (and then, of course, put it on my phone) and I was happy with what I had written.
We needed to be at the funeral home at 8 am and I started getting dressed at 6:30 or so...
I had decided to wear one of my grandfather's bow ties (Union's colors) as a homage to him, as he was known for wearing them, and I thought it would be a nice gesture.
So...I haven't tied a bow tie in years (oh, but I rocked it) and it took me too long to tie it at home (oh, by the way, I had used my pre-rinse mouthwash before I had gotten dressed but I like to brush my teeth as the last thing I do before I leave, but I hadn't finished dressing yet and I was rushing out the door...I had to purchase a toothbrush at a Cumbie's) and I was working on tying the tie while I was headed down to the funeral home.
We had a quiet moment before loading the casket (where TEA saw his great-grandfather for the first time since before he went into the hospital and he burst into tears) and then the pallbearers (including TEA and my nephew Aidan and junior bearers) loaded the casket into the hearse.
We made our way to OLV for a brief wake before the funeral and I am thankful for all the people who came out. I was touched by some of the people who made the effort, and it is a celebration of who my grandfather was.
As a whole, we all kept it all together for most of the service, getting through the eulogy was difficult and I was unable to read, so I forgot some of the things I wanted to say, but...I made it through it.
As we were escorting the casket out of the church, "Oh Danny Boy" started to play, and at that point, TEA started crying, which got Aidan crying, and pretty soon...all of us were crying.
TEA was still crying as we were driving to the internment.
(A quick aside here, you see a funeral procession, you don't try to break into it right? But someone felt the need to make that happen. Some people have zero class, and I could just see her annoyed face [as she was annoyed by having to wait] if someone did that to her loved one's service.)
After the interment, we headed to Moscatiello's for a lovely reception.
Today was a fitting goodbye for my grandfather.
I want to take this to thank everyone for the e-mails, messages, texts, and calls about my grandfather. I appreciate everyone who took the time to care. It is amazing that so many people care and love me.
Oh Marty!
You know, for all the weird stuff that has been happening in my life (and by weird, I mean really fraking depressing) the whole arc this past week on QC has been depressing too.
Check out the most recent one here and tell me, have you not been a party to the end of a relationship like this?
Check out the most recent one here and tell me, have you not been a party to the end of a relationship like this?
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Handkerchiefs
Why this was stuck in my head as I awoke, I have no clue, but it was there.
Some of you got the e-mail about the indie love song thing that I am doing, and others saw it on Facebook, but this song would definitely make my list.
(In other music related news, I tried to play this song at the Lionheart, and this song came out instead. It was interesting.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Why don't I keep a supply of this?
I need one of these.
And I love the arc that QC has been taking as of late.
Marten's bitterness is well deserved.
See the full comic here.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Hating the message
But learning to love the man...
Hitch is who he is.
This interview is a revelation.*
I hated Hitch when he went of the rails in the '90s regarding the Clintons (See The Clinton Wars) and lost further respect for him for his support of the Iraq War.
But then he subjected himself to "aggressive interrogation techniques" and called it what it is.
With that, and his rhetorical smack downs of Andrew Sullivan, I started warming to him, and then there was God is Not Great which continues to make me happy.
Anyway, best of luck, Hitch, and get well soon.
*Yes, it is the Guardian, and I am who I am.
Hitch is who he is.
This interview is a revelation.*
Hitchens once wrote a line that has almost gained the status of philosophical epigram or even scientific dictum: "What can be asserted without evidence can be dismissed without evidence." Although it echoes Wittgenstein's famous injunction regarding the ineffable – "Whereof we cannot speak, therefore we must be silent" – Hitchens's version is less a "no entry" sign than a civic reminder to place rubbish in the bin.
I hated Hitch when he went of the rails in the '90s regarding the Clintons (See The Clinton Wars) and lost further respect for him for his support of the Iraq War.
But then he subjected himself to "aggressive interrogation techniques" and called it what it is.
With that, and his rhetorical smack downs of Andrew Sullivan, I started warming to him, and then there was God is Not Great which continues to make me happy.
Anyway, best of luck, Hitch, and get well soon.
*Yes, it is the Guardian, and I am who I am.
Keep me in your heart for a while
Warren Zevon knew he was dying. He wrote this song as a way to say goodbye to his family and especially his wife.
The following year, my friends threw an Irish wake for my thirtieth birthday and this song was printed on the program (yes, my birthday had a program).
Thinking about wakes and funerals today has forced me to think about this song again.
My hope is that when I pass, and my friends and family gather to wake me, they have this song on their lips.
Hold me in your thoughts, take me to your dreams
Touch me as I fall into view
When the winter comes keep the fires lit
And I will be right next to you
Monday, November 15, 2010
Winter Thoughts
My grandfather passed at 6:12 pm this evening
Winter Thoughts.
When I was five, I wanted to teach caterpillars how to swim. I was with my grandparents (my mother’s parents) and my grandfather was enlisted to help me.
In hindsight, across the expanse of years, it was a horribly cruel thing to do to these creatures, and even though I know that my grandfather knew that it was, he went along with it because I showed an innocence and joy in my pursuit to teach caterpillars to swim. Now, I understand that some will see this as proof of their belief that I am a sociopath and always have been a sociopath, but this is not the case. I love swimming and I wanted everyone to love swimming. As part of this swimming project, my grandfather and I needed someone to help these creatures learn to swim. We used one of those toys that used baking soda to float a red and yellow scuba diving toy in order to show them that swimming was fun. I should have thought about the caterpillars needing scuba gear, but I was five and I had no access to the tools to fabricate little mouth pieces that would fit the lepidoptera’s mandibles.
Yeah, I also didn’t know that they breathed through their skin. Biology fail on my part at age five. Go back to the end of the Carter years and beat young me. I deserve it. Anyway, this gentle and smart man helped me massacre a colony of caterpillars in order to make me happy.
A couple of years later, he and my grandmother introduced me to golf, and while I do not play nearly as much as I used to, I still love the game. He taught me how to play as he was learning to play in his retirement and I remember playing with him at a pitch and put in Guilderland when I was thirteen. Yes, my grandparents were still cool enough to hang out with when I was thirteen. Four years later, my grandfather was the reason I went on a tour at Union College (DRH, Union, Class of ’44) and I fell in love with the school, the tradition, and the people. At Union, I made some of my best friends, and I learned an amazing amount of things, and if it wasn’t for him, I would have ended up in Northfield, MN, and I would have never met so many of these wonderful people (a good number of you are reading this) and my life would not have become what it has.
As I type this, my grandfather, the last of my grandparents, is asleep in a hospital bed not three feet from me, and he is dying. He may die before I have the time to finish this. I am not being morbid, or dramatic. I am being honest with myself. While we are all going to die someday, he is going to die very soon. And I will miss him. I am here tonight with him, watching him breathe, knowing that each one may be his last, because I have not been there as much as I should have been for the past couple of years. (This is not about me though, and I am not looking for validation or anything approaching that as I say what I am going to say.) For the past couple of years, especially the last three, I have been a shitty grandson, in addition to being a shitty human being (again, do not negate me on this, I am not putting this up for debate, I happen to know just how shitty I have been), and I feel guilty for this. Not that sitting with him will eliminate that guilt, but, he knows that I am here. He knows that I mean it when I tell him that I love him, and I hope that when he does pass, he knows that he impacted my life, and the lives of so many others.
I love you, Grandpa.
November 12, 2010
8:59 PM EST
Winter Thoughts.
When I was five, I wanted to teach caterpillars how to swim. I was with my grandparents (my mother’s parents) and my grandfather was enlisted to help me.
In hindsight, across the expanse of years, it was a horribly cruel thing to do to these creatures, and even though I know that my grandfather knew that it was, he went along with it because I showed an innocence and joy in my pursuit to teach caterpillars to swim. Now, I understand that some will see this as proof of their belief that I am a sociopath and always have been a sociopath, but this is not the case. I love swimming and I wanted everyone to love swimming. As part of this swimming project, my grandfather and I needed someone to help these creatures learn to swim. We used one of those toys that used baking soda to float a red and yellow scuba diving toy in order to show them that swimming was fun. I should have thought about the caterpillars needing scuba gear, but I was five and I had no access to the tools to fabricate little mouth pieces that would fit the lepidoptera’s mandibles.
Yeah, I also didn’t know that they breathed through their skin. Biology fail on my part at age five. Go back to the end of the Carter years and beat young me. I deserve it. Anyway, this gentle and smart man helped me massacre a colony of caterpillars in order to make me happy.
A couple of years later, he and my grandmother introduced me to golf, and while I do not play nearly as much as I used to, I still love the game. He taught me how to play as he was learning to play in his retirement and I remember playing with him at a pitch and put in Guilderland when I was thirteen. Yes, my grandparents were still cool enough to hang out with when I was thirteen. Four years later, my grandfather was the reason I went on a tour at Union College (DRH, Union, Class of ’44) and I fell in love with the school, the tradition, and the people. At Union, I made some of my best friends, and I learned an amazing amount of things, and if it wasn’t for him, I would have ended up in Northfield, MN, and I would have never met so many of these wonderful people (a good number of you are reading this) and my life would not have become what it has.
As I type this, my grandfather, the last of my grandparents, is asleep in a hospital bed not three feet from me, and he is dying. He may die before I have the time to finish this. I am not being morbid, or dramatic. I am being honest with myself. While we are all going to die someday, he is going to die very soon. And I will miss him. I am here tonight with him, watching him breathe, knowing that each one may be his last, because I have not been there as much as I should have been for the past couple of years. (This is not about me though, and I am not looking for validation or anything approaching that as I say what I am going to say.) For the past couple of years, especially the last three, I have been a shitty grandson, in addition to being a shitty human being (again, do not negate me on this, I am not putting this up for debate, I happen to know just how shitty I have been), and I feel guilty for this. Not that sitting with him will eliminate that guilt, but, he knows that I am here. He knows that I mean it when I tell him that I love him, and I hope that when he does pass, he knows that he impacted my life, and the lives of so many others.
I love you, Grandpa.
November 12, 2010
8:59 PM EST
On owning it all and freedom
I finished rereading Franzen's Freedom last week and then went on to re-read Owning It All by William Kittredge and I am struck by the similarity between the two works, even though one is a post Post Modern work of fiction and the other is a series of essays about the death of the West and the personalization of the agrarian ideal.
The below quote could have been from either work but it comes from the novel.
Fundamentally, the protagonists of the novel are the spiritual grandchildren of the essayist. Face it, folks, we are all miserable and irrational (yes, I get the irony of me writing this out) and we cling to our notions of right and wrong, justice and transgression, and we can be emphatic about it. And that's great. That's what makes us who were are.
Think about the people who founded us; malcontents, religious extremists, and second sons. Then think about what they did...the gave the finger to the ruling powers back in the old country, and only then did they fight. It started out as an idea, words, and then did arms need to be raised.
Still, as a society, we continue to "cling to our guns" (literally in some cases, metaphorically in most other) and it cause divisions that don't need to be there.
Ninety eight percent of my political DNA is comparable with any other American reading this and as we get closer to a new Congress, can't we learn to respect each other, even when everyone thinks each other's opinions are crap (and believe me, just because you are entitled to a belief, it does not lend validity to that belief) and get on board?
Oh, and in closing, in my opinion, Freedom not sweeping the end of the year literary awards would be a sin. If you haven't read Kittredge, he is worth the read.
The below quote could have been from either work but it comes from the novel.
"People came to this country for either money or freedom. If you don't have money, you cling to your freedoms all the more angrily. Even if smoking kills you, even if you can't afford to feed your kids, even if your kids are getting shot down by maniacs with assault rifles. You may be poor, but the one thing nobody can take away from you is the freedom to fuck up your life whatever way you want to."
Fundamentally, the protagonists of the novel are the spiritual grandchildren of the essayist. Face it, folks, we are all miserable and irrational (yes, I get the irony of me writing this out) and we cling to our notions of right and wrong, justice and transgression, and we can be emphatic about it. And that's great. That's what makes us who were are.
Think about the people who founded us; malcontents, religious extremists, and second sons. Then think about what they did...the gave the finger to the ruling powers back in the old country, and only then did they fight. It started out as an idea, words, and then did arms need to be raised.
Still, as a society, we continue to "cling to our guns" (literally in some cases, metaphorically in most other) and it cause divisions that don't need to be there.
Ninety eight percent of my political DNA is comparable with any other American reading this and as we get closer to a new Congress, can't we learn to respect each other, even when everyone thinks each other's opinions are crap (and believe me, just because you are entitled to a belief, it does not lend validity to that belief) and get on board?
Oh, and in closing, in my opinion, Freedom not sweeping the end of the year literary awards would be a sin. If you haven't read Kittredge, he is worth the read.
Sweet Disposition
So, I first became aware of this song when in was in (500) Days of Summer, which I hated, and then I liked, and now I am a little obsessed with.
Anyway,it was used over the summer for the Diet Coke commercials and now...every day or so it pops into my head.
This morning, it did it again, and not in a bad way, but in a wave of hopeful melancholia. (Yeah,just roll with it.)
Anyway, enjoy the video.
Anyway,it was used over the summer for the Diet Coke commercials and now...every day or so it pops into my head.
This morning, it did it again, and not in a bad way, but in a wave of hopeful melancholia. (Yeah,just roll with it.)
Anyway, enjoy the video.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
It’s such a perfect day…
I asked a couple of people via e-mail, as well as posting to Facebook, what makes up your “perfect day” and I thought that I would post mine.
Remember, this is fluid, as what I see as perfect today will not be perfect tomorrow (and I thank Fish for pointing that out for/to me).
Anyway…here we go:
A blazing sun in a bright blue sky.
A great cup of coffee.
Overly hopped ale.
Time with TEA and with friends.
Great conversation that challenges me as well as makes me laugh.
Spicy food and lots of it.
Indie rock and music you can sing along to, I am thinking along the lines of Exile in Guyville.
And…
Quiet time outside with a book and a dog.
So…there you have it. What is your idea of the “perfect day”?
Remember, this is fluid, as what I see as perfect today will not be perfect tomorrow (and I thank Fish for pointing that out for/to me).
Anyway…here we go:
A blazing sun in a bright blue sky.
A great cup of coffee.
Overly hopped ale.
Time with TEA and with friends.
Great conversation that challenges me as well as makes me laugh.
Spicy food and lots of it.
Indie rock and music you can sing along to, I am thinking along the lines of Exile in Guyville.
And…
Quiet time outside with a book and a dog.
So…there you have it. What is your idea of the “perfect day”?
This is awesome!
I was looking for a video of the The Mountain Goats Southland Plantation Road and I came across this...
The Hold Steady covering it from last year!
(If you want to see John doing it live, this is a very cool version, which I think I posted last year when it first hit the YouTubes.)
The Hold Steady covering it from last year!
(If you want to see John doing it live, this is a very cool version, which I think I posted last year when it first hit the YouTubes.)
Movember Update and explanation.
Notice something different?
Yeah, it's gone.
That does not mean I am still not supporting Movember.
It just means that I have a number of family things this week, including this afternoon, and I don't want to look awful, disrespectful, or have to explain why I look the way that I do.
I am still going to run the Turkey Trot if I raise the money and fulfill the other obligations (and start growing anew when my family events conclude) but this week, I need to be clean shaven.
Please continue to donate and support this cause.
Yeah, it's gone.
That does not mean I am still not supporting Movember.
It just means that I have a number of family things this week, including this afternoon, and I don't want to look awful, disrespectful, or have to explain why I look the way that I do.
I am still going to run the Turkey Trot if I raise the money and fulfill the other obligations (and start growing anew when my family events conclude) but this week, I need to be clean shaven.
Please continue to donate and support this cause.
The Daily Beast: The Palin Reality-TV Show Drinking Game
The Palin Reality-TV Show Drinking Game
There's no need to enjoy the premiere of Sarah Palin's Alaska on Sunday night sober. The Daily Beast's drinking game provides a boozy way to get through Sarah's adventures.
View the full articleAnyone want to play along with me?
My favorite:
10) Chug if you find yourself rooting for the bears.
I am thinking that this show could be like "Wild Kingdom" for Red America...or maybe "Meerkat Manor", youbetcha!
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