"Ganstas don't ax questions." But they do answer questions from Katie Couric...
Lil Wayne and "Miss Katie" in a pre-Grammy interview:
Watch CBS Videos Online
And the quote of the day...
"Music is another form of journalism." Agreed. And I think people need to be reminded that all types of contemporary music - popular, art music, opera etc. - are hugely relevant artistic outlets that often can and do deal directly with our culture and "news." However, I'd amend that statement just a tad and say "editorial journalism," Mr. Wayne (er...um...is it Mr. Lil?). Mostly because I think the general consensus is that journalism requires questions, gansta or not...
Other thoughts: 1. Lil Wayne did a better job in this interview than Sarah Palin did in hers. Yikes. 2. We believe you are gansta. You don't have to tell us. Two words: eyelid tattoo.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
"Those are your hands? Those are your hands?"
It iced last night in Texas...
Other happenings in my day: I didn't have to teach this morning because school was canceled. I barely slept last night because I kept dreaming that I was dreaming the icy conditions and was actually supposed to be teaching. I checked my computer at 4am to be sure...and then again at 6am. Around 1pm today, I fell down. By that I mean I completely wiped out - flat on my ass - on a concrete sidewalk due to aforementioned icy conditions. Later, two of my piano students forgot about their lessons because they were out of school. This left me with an unexpected break. Instead of going to Starbucks to read, I opted for a nap in my car in a parking lot. I was then groggy for the rest of the day. Fast forward to tonight around 11pm. My upstairs neighbors were having some kind of horribly loud domestic dispute. I contemplated calling the cops but the cops arrived during my contemplation. I peered through the mini-blinds and watched the girl who lives above me get arrested. Handcuffs and everything! And the police carried out an enormous plastic bag full of drugs...of the pill variety...
Finally, I just crawled into bed and remembered that I had two really bizarre dreams this morning. In one, I was trying to solve a murder. In the other, I was rewriting sentences of my thesis and also selling fruit. I then remembered that I'm pretty sure one of my dreams continued from this morning to my car nap this afternoon. It was the same dream, but a different version that included things I was hearing on my radio (like Ira Glass's voice). Also, I'm almost 100% sure that I put a sentence in my thesis that I wrote in my sleep...or maybe half sleep...but I definitely had it in my head when I woke up this morning. I also just remembered that I fell down today and am already pretty sore.
Some days just seem a bit surreal.
Other happenings in my day: I didn't have to teach this morning because school was canceled. I barely slept last night because I kept dreaming that I was dreaming the icy conditions and was actually supposed to be teaching. I checked my computer at 4am to be sure...and then again at 6am. Around 1pm today, I fell down. By that I mean I completely wiped out - flat on my ass - on a concrete sidewalk due to aforementioned icy conditions. Later, two of my piano students forgot about their lessons because they were out of school. This left me with an unexpected break. Instead of going to Starbucks to read, I opted for a nap in my car in a parking lot. I was then groggy for the rest of the day. Fast forward to tonight around 11pm. My upstairs neighbors were having some kind of horribly loud domestic dispute. I contemplated calling the cops but the cops arrived during my contemplation. I peered through the mini-blinds and watched the girl who lives above me get arrested. Handcuffs and everything! And the police carried out an enormous plastic bag full of drugs...of the pill variety...
Finally, I just crawled into bed and remembered that I had two really bizarre dreams this morning. In one, I was trying to solve a murder. In the other, I was rewriting sentences of my thesis and also selling fruit. I then remembered that I'm pretty sure one of my dreams continued from this morning to my car nap this afternoon. It was the same dream, but a different version that included things I was hearing on my radio (like Ira Glass's voice). Also, I'm almost 100% sure that I put a sentence in my thesis that I wrote in my sleep...or maybe half sleep...but I definitely had it in my head when I woke up this morning. I also just remembered that I fell down today and am already pretty sore.
Some days just seem a bit surreal.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
One more little piece of history from thesis land...
(Inside the Chat Noir cabaret on Montmartre c. 1880s/90s. Shadow theater is depicted on back wall. Note fish on ceiling.)
Ranting against the machine. Or, Satie says (quote of the day)...
(I've been working on my thesis...so here is a quote for you with footnote...)
"People in general seem convinced that only the Official Establishment in the rue de Madrid can inseminate musical knowledge. Good for them; but I still ask myself – with hands clasped – why we musicians are obliged to receive a State education when painters and writers are free to study as and where they want. I have always said that there is no such thing as Artistic Truth – no single Truth, I mean. The one imposed by Ministers, a Senate, a Chamber and an Institute revolts me and outrages me – even though basically I feel indifferent about it.
With one voice, I cry: Long live Amateurs!"1
1 As quoted in Alan Gillmor, Erik Satie (New York: W.W. Norton, 1988), 13. This passage is taken from Satie’s contribution to the summer 1922 issue of Le Feuilles libres in which the young composer attacked Lavignac’s book, Music and Musicians.
"People in general seem convinced that only the Official Establishment in the rue de Madrid can inseminate musical knowledge. Good for them; but I still ask myself – with hands clasped – why we musicians are obliged to receive a State education when painters and writers are free to study as and where they want. I have always said that there is no such thing as Artistic Truth – no single Truth, I mean. The one imposed by Ministers, a Senate, a Chamber and an Institute revolts me and outrages me – even though basically I feel indifferent about it.
With one voice, I cry: Long live Amateurs!"1
1 As quoted in Alan Gillmor, Erik Satie (New York: W.W. Norton, 1988), 13. This passage is taken from Satie’s contribution to the summer 1922 issue of Le Feuilles libres in which the young composer attacked Lavignac’s book, Music and Musicians.
Monday, January 26, 2009
44. One week in (well, almost)...
1. No broken promises. 5 for 488 and counting...
2. Reviewing the Inauguration: various and conflicting responses among music"y" folk to Williams's Air and Simple Gifts here and here and here. Also, Yo-Yo (I like to call him that. "Hi, nice to meet you, Mr. Ma." "Oh, really, just call me Yo-Yo....") revealed on NPR this week what we all already knew: they were finger-syncing.
3. President Obama's proposed stimulus package includes money ($50 million) for the National Endowment for the Arts. Robert Lynch noted in this New York Times article that "the artist’s paycheck is every bit as important as the steelworker’s paycheck or the autoworker’s paycheck.”
Mr. Lynch, I could not agree more.
2. Reviewing the Inauguration: various and conflicting responses among music"y" folk to Williams's Air and Simple Gifts here and here and here. Also, Yo-Yo (I like to call him that. "Hi, nice to meet you, Mr. Ma." "Oh, really, just call me Yo-Yo....") revealed on NPR this week what we all already knew: they were finger-syncing.
3. President Obama's proposed stimulus package includes money ($50 million) for the National Endowment for the Arts. Robert Lynch noted in this New York Times article that "the artist’s paycheck is every bit as important as the steelworker’s paycheck or the autoworker’s paycheck.”
Mr. Lynch, I could not agree more.
Out of the basement of the library and onto Broadway...
In case you didn't know, Jane Fonda is returning to Broadway this March after a 46 year hiatus. She's going to play a musicologist studying Beethoven's Diabelli Variations in Kaufman's "33 Variations."
My career...oh so hip...
My career...oh so hip...
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
44
My favorite line from the speech: "We reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals."
(Yes, we do!! Finally.)
The money quote: "What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility - a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task."
Other highlights: 1. Joseph Lowery speaking these lyrics: "God of our weary years, God of our silent tears" from Lift Every Voice and Sing. 2. Itzhak Perlman et al. Look at Gabriela Montero's gloves. A pianist's gotta do what a pianist's gotta do. 3. Even supreme court justices get nervous in front of big crowds.
Also, I have a new crush.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Presidential musical chairs. Or, happenings of the musically historical and historically musical variety...
A few things that caught my eyes and ears around the interwebs this week:
1. Oh the things you learn on NPR...
Three guys wrote a song for every single American president. You can read about it here and listen to song number 44 here. I listened to several pieces from the project. Love the idea. But, unfortunately, I can't say much for the execution. Even when Rosie Thomas is singing them (I love her), the lyrics "we thank you for your wonderful foreign policy" should really just never be sung. It doesn't work. And if you don't believe me, listen to the thirty second clip of Jimmy Carter: A Great Beam of Light on iTunes and find out for yourself.
2. Seventy years before the inauguration of our first black president...
Marian Anderson sings in front of the Lincoln Memorial in 1939 after the DAR banned her from singing in Constitution Hall:
3. I love Ann Telnaes so bad...
Regretfully they tell us,
But firmly they compel us
To say goodby to you.
So long, farewell, Auf wiedersehen, good night,
I hate to go and leave this pretty sight.
So long, farewell, Auf wiedersehen, adieu,
Adieu, adieu, to yieu and yieu and yieu.
4. And I guess I have to conclude with this...
My thoughts: God, I hate Josh Groban. What a giant cheese ball. Bono looks really old. Weird. Speaking of old, Pete Seeger is Ninety. Ninety! And he is absolutely adorable. And finally, Beyonce brought it home, yo.
Happy MLK day and happy inaugurating!
1. Oh the things you learn on NPR...
Three guys wrote a song for every single American president. You can read about it here and listen to song number 44 here. I listened to several pieces from the project. Love the idea. But, unfortunately, I can't say much for the execution. Even when Rosie Thomas is singing them (I love her), the lyrics "we thank you for your wonderful foreign policy" should really just never be sung. It doesn't work. And if you don't believe me, listen to the thirty second clip of Jimmy Carter: A Great Beam of Light on iTunes and find out for yourself.
2. Seventy years before the inauguration of our first black president...
Marian Anderson sings in front of the Lincoln Memorial in 1939 after the DAR banned her from singing in Constitution Hall:
3. I love Ann Telnaes so bad...
Regretfully they tell us,
But firmly they compel us
To say goodby to you.
So long, farewell, Auf wiedersehen, good night,
I hate to go and leave this pretty sight.
So long, farewell, Auf wiedersehen, adieu,
Adieu, adieu, to yieu and yieu and yieu.
4. And I guess I have to conclude with this...
My thoughts: God, I hate Josh Groban. What a giant cheese ball. Bono looks really old. Weird. Speaking of old, Pete Seeger is Ninety. Ninety! And he is absolutely adorable. And finally, Beyonce brought it home, yo.
Happy MLK day and happy inaugurating!
Sunday, January 18, 2009
The darndest things...
On Friday, one of my piano students was explaining to me that she had a long weekend coming up and wasn't going back to school until Wednesday. "Oh, really," I said, "That's pretty cool. Do you know why you are off school Monday?" "Um, well, Monday is Marthin...um...Marthin...um...I can't remember his last name, but it is his day. Not like, his birthday. It's not his birthday. It's just a day for him but it is pretty close to his birthday. Also, did you know that the president named Kennedy had a daughter and son and the son died and now the daughter is running for inauguration? Anyway, I get to have two sleep overs because of it."
All in all, I'd say she's pretty well informed about politics (if not also terribly confused) for a 6 year old.
All in all, I'd say she's pretty well informed about politics (if not also terribly confused) for a 6 year old.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Sure I'm a hypocrite, but George Steel is a liar. Which is worse?
In case you haven't heard, George Steel (general director of the Dallas Opera since October) just ditched Dallas for NYC. Cue indignant ranting in the Dallas arts scene about unfulfilled contracts and blatant lies. In the fall there were rumors that Steel was being considered to head the New York City Opera. Steel repeatedly refuted the reports. So, is this a case of a genuine (if somewhat sappy) change of heart prompted by Christmasy reminiscing (as he claimed in an interview with Scott Cantrell of the Dallas Morning News), or was he just feeding us all a hefty dose of bullshit?
And does it matter?
The man made a personal decision. Sure, it was a pretty shitty thing to do to Dallas. And sure, I felt a fair share of indignation myself when I read the news yesterday. The Winspear is going to be incredible and provides a concrete reason to be genuinely excited about what can happen in the very near future for opera, music, and the arts in general in Dallas. I even wonder if G.S. will regret this decision if someone else comes in and makes a name for themselves revamping the Dallas Opera. But then again, I also don't blame him...
At the risk of offending friends and neighbors, let me explain. Dallas has many of the resources that a city needs to have a thriving artistic center/culture. By resources, I mean facilities, donors, patrons, talent, audience, money, etc. But here's the thing: Dallas does not have a thriving artistic center or culture. Why? I don't know. Sometimes it baffles me.
Or maybe I do know... I think the problem lies primarily in the audience and the cultural values of the region in general. I know I'm making broad generalizations here. And yes, there are individuals - even small communities within this city - who are thoughtful and educated and care deeply about the arts among other things (i.e. the environment, education, politics, etc.). However, one doesn't have to look hard to find evidence of a city that primarily values money, clothes, cars, and football. It often seems to me that even those who attend the symphony, opera, museums, etc. seem to do so because they feel they should in order to "be cultured," rather than because of a genuine interest in music or art. Again, I know I'm over simplifying (and being a bit of a bitch), but the general lack of cultural stimulation/interest in this city gets me down sometimes. It doesn't have to be this way, and yet changing the fundamental culture of a city seems like quite an uphill battle. It's probably easier just to move, say, to NYC.
That being said, George Steel is a lying !$#&*@ %&@#$&....
And does it matter?
The man made a personal decision. Sure, it was a pretty shitty thing to do to Dallas. And sure, I felt a fair share of indignation myself when I read the news yesterday. The Winspear is going to be incredible and provides a concrete reason to be genuinely excited about what can happen in the very near future for opera, music, and the arts in general in Dallas. I even wonder if G.S. will regret this decision if someone else comes in and makes a name for themselves revamping the Dallas Opera. But then again, I also don't blame him...
At the risk of offending friends and neighbors, let me explain. Dallas has many of the resources that a city needs to have a thriving artistic center/culture. By resources, I mean facilities, donors, patrons, talent, audience, money, etc. But here's the thing: Dallas does not have a thriving artistic center or culture. Why? I don't know. Sometimes it baffles me.
Or maybe I do know... I think the problem lies primarily in the audience and the cultural values of the region in general. I know I'm making broad generalizations here. And yes, there are individuals - even small communities within this city - who are thoughtful and educated and care deeply about the arts among other things (i.e. the environment, education, politics, etc.). However, one doesn't have to look hard to find evidence of a city that primarily values money, clothes, cars, and football. It often seems to me that even those who attend the symphony, opera, museums, etc. seem to do so because they feel they should in order to "be cultured," rather than because of a genuine interest in music or art. Again, I know I'm over simplifying (and being a bit of a bitch), but the general lack of cultural stimulation/interest in this city gets me down sometimes. It doesn't have to be this way, and yet changing the fundamental culture of a city seems like quite an uphill battle. It's probably easier just to move, say, to NYC.
That being said, George Steel is a lying !$#&*@ %&@#$&....
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Do the shuffle. Or, musical schizophrenia...
When I switched computers recently I lost all my trusty iTunes playlists. I didn't mean to lose them, but I am a technological idiot and so they are gone. Tear. Anyway, this morning I was trying to make iTunes lemonade out of this slightly sour situation and so I turned on the shuffle feature. (Sorry for the terrible iTunes/lemonade metaphor just then...couldn't resist). Anyway, I thought this lack of playlists would be a good opportunity to rediscover overlooked music deep in the recesses of my music library. I never do this. And I was promptly reminded of why...
This is an exact transcription of what happened:
1. Cantaloop (Flip Fantasia) by US3
2. Messe de Notre Dame (Kyrie) by Guillaume de Machaut
3. Le fils des étoiles by E. Satie
4. Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmer
5. Buriedfed by Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson*
6. Hey Ma by Cam'Ron
7. O Euchari by Hildegard of Bingen
8. While My Guitar Gently Weeps The Beatles
9. Black Cadilacs by Modest Mouse
10. Serenade en la by Igor Stravinsky**
11. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer Harry Connick, Jr.
And then I officially gave up on the shuffle feature. Well, I think I actually gave up on it somewhere between Cam'Ron and Hildegard. If you need me this weekend, I'll be writing syllabi and compiling playlists...
*brief note: I just found this guy and I like him. Buriedfed is good...kind of Bob Dylan with thicker instrumentation and a backup choir. Good lyrics.
**brief note number two: This is my favorite piano piece of all times to perform. Fleischer is the only one who gets it right. He plays Stravinsky with loads of restraint (tempo and pedal) and an equal serving of enthusiastic passion. If you have a penchant for neoclassicism, download his recording of it.
This is an exact transcription of what happened:
1. Cantaloop (Flip Fantasia) by US3
2. Messe de Notre Dame (Kyrie) by Guillaume de Machaut
3. Le fils des étoiles by E. Satie
4. Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmer
5. Buriedfed by Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson*
6. Hey Ma by Cam'Ron
7. O Euchari by Hildegard of Bingen
8. While My Guitar Gently Weeps The Beatles
9. Black Cadilacs by Modest Mouse
10. Serenade en la by Igor Stravinsky**
11. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer Harry Connick, Jr.
And then I officially gave up on the shuffle feature. Well, I think I actually gave up on it somewhere between Cam'Ron and Hildegard. If you need me this weekend, I'll be writing syllabi and compiling playlists...
*brief note: I just found this guy and I like him. Buriedfed is good...kind of Bob Dylan with thicker instrumentation and a backup choir. Good lyrics.
**brief note number two: This is my favorite piano piece of all times to perform. Fleischer is the only one who gets it right. He plays Stravinsky with loads of restraint (tempo and pedal) and an equal serving of enthusiastic passion. If you have a penchant for neoclassicism, download his recording of it.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
George says (quote of the day)...
I listened to GWB's final press conference this morning in its entirety on the way to a meeting. When asked about mistakes he may have made in the Presidency, this was his initial response:
"I have often said that history will look back and determine that which could have been done better, or, you know, mistakes I made. Clearly putting a “Mission Accomplished” on a aircraft carrier was a mistake. It sent the wrong message. We were trying to say something differently, but nevertheless, it conveyed a different message. Obviously, some of my rhetoric has been a mistake."
Um...obviously. But can't we get beyond rhetorical mistakes and admit/discuss actual mistakes??
Oh, and he managed to say "misunderestimated" in the press conference this morning. "Misunderestimated." Again. Sheesh, George. It's not a word. Stop saying it!
"I have often said that history will look back and determine that which could have been done better, or, you know, mistakes I made. Clearly putting a “Mission Accomplished” on a aircraft carrier was a mistake. It sent the wrong message. We were trying to say something differently, but nevertheless, it conveyed a different message. Obviously, some of my rhetoric has been a mistake."
Um...obviously. But can't we get beyond rhetorical mistakes and admit/discuss actual mistakes??
Oh, and he managed to say "misunderestimated" in the press conference this morning. "Misunderestimated." Again. Sheesh, George. It's not a word. Stop saying it!
2008: The year in photos...
This is a tad ego-centric (and more than a little cheesy), but whatever. It's a blog. That's the point. Here's my year in pics.
January
(new year's '08)
(who knows. we had glow sticks.)
February
(classiest valentine's day ever)
(leap year day party with boas. because it only happens once every four years...)
March
(i think they call this research)
(boston. harvard square with my sister.)
April
(a rare shot of me with beer)
May
(master...er...um...mistress(?) of music)
June/July
(look at those tans. ah, summertime...)
August
(L's going away party. the day i wore boots. also the day i'd officially been in texas too long.)
September
(austin city limits. live music is fun.)
October
(san fransisco treat)
(pacific ocean)
November
(edible hope)
(my neighbor's trash)
(friend's thanksgiving)
December
(birthday)
(scotland. christmas eve. gathered 'round the soft glow of the MacBook photo booth for the traditional family photo.)
**Unrelated note for those of you bored enough to make it to the bottom of this narcissistic trip down memory lane: One week until GWB is out and BHO is in. ONE WEEK!!
January
(new year's '08)
(who knows. we had glow sticks.)
February
(classiest valentine's day ever)
(leap year day party with boas. because it only happens once every four years...)
March
(i think they call this research)
(boston. harvard square with my sister.)
April
(a rare shot of me with beer)
May
(master...er...um...mistress(?) of music)
June/July
(look at those tans. ah, summertime...)
August
(L's going away party. the day i wore boots. also the day i'd officially been in texas too long.)
September
(austin city limits. live music is fun.)
October
(san fransisco treat)
(pacific ocean)
November
(edible hope)
(my neighbor's trash)
(friend's thanksgiving)
December
(birthday)
(scotland. christmas eve. gathered 'round the soft glow of the MacBook photo booth for the traditional family photo.)
**Unrelated note for those of you bored enough to make it to the bottom of this narcissistic trip down memory lane: One week until GWB is out and BHO is in. ONE WEEK!!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Call me old fashioned...
I'm all for technology and using it to promote music and the musical cause, but this annoys me.
I realize I'm being a bit fuddy duddy. In theory I like the idea of bringing art music out of the concert halls and into (onto?) the world wide web. However, I can't stand the idea of a virtual orchestra. I think my strong aversion to the YouTube orchestra can be traced back to my piano teachers. I'm pretty sure the average age of my piano teachers over the last decade is 76 and I'm very sure none of them knew how to download a track on iTunes. These people shaped my musical education, yo. Come to think of it, this influence could explain why I frequently nod my head at my college students and say things like, "You kids these days."
So, I'm sorry, Tan Dun and Lang Lang. I know you're all hip and cool, but I like my orchestras less virtual and well, frankly, less YouTubey.
I realize I'm being a bit fuddy duddy. In theory I like the idea of bringing art music out of the concert halls and into (onto?) the world wide web. However, I can't stand the idea of a virtual orchestra. I think my strong aversion to the YouTube orchestra can be traced back to my piano teachers. I'm pretty sure the average age of my piano teachers over the last decade is 76 and I'm very sure none of them knew how to download a track on iTunes. These people shaped my musical education, yo. Come to think of it, this influence could explain why I frequently nod my head at my college students and say things like, "You kids these days."
So, I'm sorry, Tan Dun and Lang Lang. I know you're all hip and cool, but I like my orchestras less virtual and well, frankly, less YouTubey.
"What might have been lost?"
I was on an airplane for 10 hours last week on my way home from Scotland and I was really sick. I couldn't focus on reading or writing or anything other than just trying not to snot all over the poor guy next to me (who, incidentally, kept ordering orange juice, I think because he was terrified of my germs. Vitamin C, baby!). Anyway, I listened to this Bon Iver song on repeat for hours:
It was the only thing I could listen to that I could focus on as I drifted in and out of feverish sleep. So, I've been thinking about things lost. Or things that might've been lost. And what fills the void.
My old computer died the day I got back to the U.S. It has since been revived (thanks mac genius bar people!). Pre-miraculous-resurrection, I decided it was time for a new computer regardless of the outcome and went ahead and upgraded (three cheers for my new MacBook)! Anyway, while my old computer was under the knife, I went through the inevitable panic about what I might have lost if my hard-drive were never recovered. Luckily, I am smart enough to have backed up the two most important things in my digital life: my thesis work and my iTunes library. However, there are a million tiny things on one's computer that you don't think about and suddenly need when they're gone. Within 24 hours I'd remembered about 7 things I no longer had and would have sorely miss. They weren't necessarily all irretrievable. But it would have taken time and a little extra effort to obtain them. Searching, googling, emailing, downloading, etc. So basically, just time.
Which is the other thing I've been thinking about losing. Time, unlike Microsoft office and blog URLs is irretrievable. Lately I've been feeling an intense need to make up for some lost time. I tend to have a "no regrets" policy for myself in terms of life decisions and actions. If I make mistakes, I am usually content to chock them up to life experience. Some mistakes even manage to be good memories or at least amusing ones. But I realized recently I actually do have huge regret when it comes to missed opportunities. For a couple years of my life - college years mostly - I avoided many life experiences mainly out of fear. I lived carefully. And I regret that. So while I may not regret "bad" choices or experiences, I'm finding I do regret periods of my life in which there was a lack of experience. And I don't know what to do with that lost time. I'm not okay with it. It makes me angry at myself, or maybe at "God," or at the expectations of others for which I cared so greatly. I feel a need to learn something or make something of it so it will not have been a total waste. But what to learn or do and how? And if not, how can I let go of the regret and quit frantically trying to make up for it?
Another thing: Just before Christmas, my grandfather died. I didn't go to the funeral and I haven't even seen him in 8 years. His death does not affect me in any practical sense. Yet there is this weird way in which you still feel a sense of loss when someone dies. My grandfather was arrogant, unrepentant, cruel, and selfish. But despite that, my grandmother and my dad have lost someone -- someone who affected their lives directly and dramatically. It is hard to watch my dad try to come to terms with this loss.
This post is a bit brooding and morose. I guess that's what happens when you listen to Bon Iver on repeat for hours on end...
On the agenda for the rest of January: Less Bon Iver and more Beatles White Album (which always makes me smile and which, coincidentally, turned 40 in 2008). Oh, and a little hopeful thing called an inauguration!
It was the only thing I could listen to that I could focus on as I drifted in and out of feverish sleep. So, I've been thinking about things lost. Or things that might've been lost. And what fills the void.
My old computer died the day I got back to the U.S. It has since been revived (thanks mac genius bar people!). Pre-miraculous-resurrection, I decided it was time for a new computer regardless of the outcome and went ahead and upgraded (three cheers for my new MacBook)! Anyway, while my old computer was under the knife, I went through the inevitable panic about what I might have lost if my hard-drive were never recovered. Luckily, I am smart enough to have backed up the two most important things in my digital life: my thesis work and my iTunes library. However, there are a million tiny things on one's computer that you don't think about and suddenly need when they're gone. Within 24 hours I'd remembered about 7 things I no longer had and would have sorely miss. They weren't necessarily all irretrievable. But it would have taken time and a little extra effort to obtain them. Searching, googling, emailing, downloading, etc. So basically, just time.
Which is the other thing I've been thinking about losing. Time, unlike Microsoft office and blog URLs is irretrievable. Lately I've been feeling an intense need to make up for some lost time. I tend to have a "no regrets" policy for myself in terms of life decisions and actions. If I make mistakes, I am usually content to chock them up to life experience. Some mistakes even manage to be good memories or at least amusing ones. But I realized recently I actually do have huge regret when it comes to missed opportunities. For a couple years of my life - college years mostly - I avoided many life experiences mainly out of fear. I lived carefully. And I regret that. So while I may not regret "bad" choices or experiences, I'm finding I do regret periods of my life in which there was a lack of experience. And I don't know what to do with that lost time. I'm not okay with it. It makes me angry at myself, or maybe at "God," or at the expectations of others for which I cared so greatly. I feel a need to learn something or make something of it so it will not have been a total waste. But what to learn or do and how? And if not, how can I let go of the regret and quit frantically trying to make up for it?
Another thing: Just before Christmas, my grandfather died. I didn't go to the funeral and I haven't even seen him in 8 years. His death does not affect me in any practical sense. Yet there is this weird way in which you still feel a sense of loss when someone dies. My grandfather was arrogant, unrepentant, cruel, and selfish. But despite that, my grandmother and my dad have lost someone -- someone who affected their lives directly and dramatically. It is hard to watch my dad try to come to terms with this loss.
This post is a bit brooding and morose. I guess that's what happens when you listen to Bon Iver on repeat for hours on end...
On the agenda for the rest of January: Less Bon Iver and more Beatles White Album (which always makes me smile and which, coincidentally, turned 40 in 2008). Oh, and a little hopeful thing called an inauguration!
Friday, January 9, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Red State Diaries. Or, a Wednesday morning rant...
So, now these signs are popping up all over the neighborhood in Dallas where George and Laura just bought a house and where I work every day. The signs, btw, are compliments of some obnoxious college sophomore who I can only imagine as the over-enthused leader of his local Young Republican chapter, defiantly dressed in khakis and a polo shirt accessorized with a vintage "Bush/Cheney 2000" button, whose eager beaver capitalist ambition oozed out of his ears and past his neatly parted brown hair and landed on this brilliant (and might I say innovative and modern!) concept of a "Welcome Home W" yard sign. I pity his Harvard PhD English professor who is having to read a term paper in which he compares Hemingway's "no nonsense prose" to his personal business plan and management style.
Ponder: Do we really need to welcome him home with yard signs? Shouldn't he at least have to slink back quietly under the cover of darkness to avoid jeering crowds? Scandal, torture, war, recession, Katrina....
Hmm.
Ponder: Do we really need to welcome him home with yard signs? Shouldn't he at least have to slink back quietly under the cover of darkness to avoid jeering crowds? Scandal, torture, war, recession, Katrina....
Hmm.
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