Don't It Feel Good?

Loyal readers know that I recently finished my third marathon, a race that showcased my improved ability to control any walking I do over the final miles. What I still cannot control, it seems, is any kind of emotion that creeps to the fore while I am also trying to control the walking.

With that in mind, then, my apologies to the spectators with the speakers just past Mile 25. I shouldn't have cursed. But in the future it would be easier for everyone involved if you would excise "Another One Bites The Dust" from your playlist if you are planning on cheering anywhere after the fifth mile.

This, at least, was a mere time-place-and-manner speech infraction. The DJs at the Rice Park Ice Rink in St. Paul wish they had your problem. Here now is a call for members of the ice skating class that suffered through "Walking On Sunshine" last Friday night. And for your review, the elements of our primary claim:

Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress

1. Defendant acted intentionally or recklessly

-Someone pressed "Play"

2. Defendant's conduct was extreme and outrageous

-Walking On Sunshine is the literal opposite of Using Razors To Slide On Ice

3. Defendant's act was the cause of distress

-see 2

4. Plaintiff suffers severe emotional distress as a result of Defendant's conduct.

-Plus, in an environment as uncontrolled as a skating rink, who knows how much additional physical damage I (we?) caused during that song?

The Philly Playlist

This isn't necessarily an exhaustive list, but these are some tracks that played a memorable role in training. Jeff Magnum's vocals are more or less what a marathon should sound like: strong, raw, restrained. A soft focus race mantra naturally acquired an extra adjective. Lil Wayne's infectious flow found its way into my head on most of my marathon simulation runs. Alela and Girlyman were excellent pre-morning workout partners; Felix and Soul Asylum helped after work. And so on. There have been others, of course. Miles Davis is doing a heckuva job as I relax on this particular evening. But adding any more would threaten to freeze my hot soft focus.

Shit, I gotta eat, yeah, even though I ate/It ain't my birthday but I got my name on the cake.

Neutral Milk Hotel - King of Carrot Flowers Part I
The Hold Steady - Hot Soft Light
Birdman & Lil Wayne - Stuntin' Like My Daddy
Alela Diane - Crying Wolf
Felix Da Housecat - Do We Move Your World?
Jamie T - Sticks 'n' Stones
Soul Asylum - Cartoon
Girlyman - St. Peter's Bones

Playlist 11/2-11/08

As before, there are no themes intended other than What I Listened To This Week...

Track 1

Ted Hawkins - Bring It Home Daddy

Last week's obsession continued this week, and this is the song that started it all. A Sam Cooke fan can't help but notice titular similarities between this song and Bring It On Home To Me, and lyrical similarities between Ted's "you're my ice cream and I'm your candy" and Sam's "your the apple of my eye, you're cherry pie/oh you're cake and ice cream" from Nothing Can Change This Love. And since Ted remarked that Sam's voice "did something to me" when he got out of prison at 19, I can't help but wonder if he's joining Solomon Burke in riffing on the line. In Can't Nobody Love You, King Solomon explains, "Sam called you cake and ice cream, he called you cherry pie/Ray Charles called you his sunshine but you're the apple of my eye."

Derivatives aside, this was the song that perked my ears and made me notice Ted Hawkins. I'm so glad.

Tracks 2-4

Booker T. - She Breaks

This week's new obsession was Booker T. Jones' 2009 release, Potato Hole. The album features Booker T, best known for Green Onions (originally a B-side!) but also the legendary "resident piano player, later organ player" at Stax Records; his backing band on the album is the Drive-By Truckers, described along with The Hold Steady as the only currently touring bands that smile when they're on stage.

I wasn't sure what to expect, but the organ soothes the Truckers' gritty three-guitar-attack and it works beautifully. I wouldn't have been as surprised if I'd known that the Truckers had collaborated back in 2007 with The Great Lady of Soul, Bettye Lavette...

Bettye Lavette - I Still Want To Be Your Baby (Take Me Like I Am)

See. If I'd heard that I wouldn't have questioned for a moment whether it was a good idea to cover Andre 3000.

Booker T. - Hey Ya!

Really, wonderful. One reviewer put it best by saying this "makes the world safe for Hey Ya! again."

Track 5

The Big Pink - Dominoes

Ubiquitous and catchy. Rigorous standards here at the weekly playlist.

Track 6

P.O.S. - Low Light Low Life

It's the flight of the salesman/Death of the bumblebee.

Dance to the rhetoric.

Track 7

Girlyman - St. Peter's Bones

Girlyman, or, If Paul Simon Joined The Indigo Girls. Thank goodness John Dickerson's blog is back. He linked to a live performance of this song, and is now 2/2 in music recommendations after introducing me to The Avett Brothers earlier this year.

Track 8

Felix Da Housecat - Do We Move Your World?

Felix Da Housecat, or...Prince? So says TNC's wife. This track was a Song of the Day from The Current. Turns out it's the perfect song for making the transition from workday zone-out to interval workout zone.

Track 9

Dirty Projectors - Stillness Is The Move

I give their new album, Bitte Orca a thumbs-up, but barely. It remains to be seen whether this repairs the damage done to my hipster cred when I walked out of that Grizzly Bear concert. Pitchfork gave this album a 9.2 and wrote,

It's breezy without a hint of slightness, tuneful but with its fair share of tumult, concise and inventive and replayable and plain old fun.

Which, probably, is more or less verbatim what pops into anyone's head when they listen.

I like between two and four songs on Bitte Orca. This is one of them. I'm not sure if it's "brainy," but it's interesting.

Bad Guys Acting Crazy

Last night we hit up the opera house because we could think of nothing better. I went in just quoting lines from the irresistible Oscar Wilde.

Jack: I am sick to death of cleverness. Everybody is clever nowadays. You can’t go anywhere without meeting clever people. The thing has become an absolute public nuisance. I wish to goodness we had a few fools left.

I woke up deep in Hostile, Massachusetts.

He said: Hey my name is Corey. and I'm really into hardcore. People call me hard Corey. Don't you hate these clever people and all these clever people parties?

But I could tell when they were lying. It looked just like overacting.

Gwendolen: True. In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity is the vital thing.

The Hold Steady - Hostile, Mass.

Playlist 10/26-11/1

In an effort to blog with some regularity, I'm going to try posting weekly playlists. Nothing too fancy, just whatever I've been listening to for the past week. For example:

Commander Cody & His Lost Planet Airmen - Wine Do Yer Stuff

I heard Commander Cody on American Routes playing Beat Me Daddy, Eight To The Bar, which is a fantastic tune (link is to the hit version by the Andrews Sisters) and made me wonder why I couldn't name more of his songs.

Turns out I can. He's the guy that does Hot Rod Lincoln, who I'd previously filed-away as Not Johnny Cash. I listened to his Lost In The Ozone album all week, but I'm posting this one because the chorus makes me laugh. Three calls - "Wine!" - to get the subject's attention, then the understated, syncopated directive. Sublime.

Arlo Guthrie - Hobo's Lullaby

The one song I can reliably finger-pick. My Dad used to play this for me; I gifted it this week to a guitar-playing father-to-be. Which involved a lot of re-listening and playing.

The Beatles - I've Just Seen A Face

I'm working on a Beatles-related Audio Project and last weekend I decided to revisit Revolver. And I decided I shouldn't revisit Revolver without revisiting Rubber Soul. Ten years ago I probably would have listed Revolver as my favorite Beatles record. This week I've listened to each six times back-to-back trying to decide.

This song in particular caught my ear because, for some reason, it reminded me of a faster version of The Boxer. This comparison works best if you haven't listened to The Boxer in a long while. My main rationale is that the way Paul McCartney trails-off at the end of each verse with "hmms" or "di-dis" or, of course, "li-lis" is similar to Paul Simon's chorus.

Riffing on coincidence now: I've Just Seen a Face is about a wonderful fleeting encounter with a very special woman. The point of greatest similarity in The Boxer - where Paul Simon trails-off with "li-li-li..." - comes after this line:

Asking only workman's wages I come looking for a job, but I get no offers/Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue/I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there.

I'm sure that,

Had it been another day [he] might have looked the other way and [he'd] have never been aware but as it is [he'll] dream of her tonight.

Li-li-li.

Knaan - America

K'naan filled my April '09 soundtrack, but he showed-up this week to help pass the time as I drove my Somali and Oromo runners to their Sectional meet. They were trapped, which meant I got a translation: "He's talking about a girl, a really pretty girl...he can't find no girl like that in America."

The season's over.

Breakestra - Family Rap

I like Chali 2na. He's in this song and that last one, too.

The Mountain Goats - Genesis 3:23

This song entered my world last Friday despite my best efforts to avoid it. But The Current featured it as their Song of the Day, so I was basically trapped. I listened and thought, oh, I bet that Genesis verse is something about getting kicked out of Eden. Yep.

There are basically two reasons I listen to The Mountain Goats. One is that by listening I am given many more opportunities than I would otherwise encounter to deploy the phrase, "Goat it up, baby!" The other is that Craig Finn name checks the band in Girls Like Status. ("Song number three on John's last CD" or "Song number three on The Sunset Tree.") So I've given them just enough chances that I like just enough of their songs to justify downloading The Life Of The World To Come after grudgingly liking this track.

Judgment reserved for now, but I can't help feeling the same kind of recoil I felt when I heard about David Plotz's "Hey! I just read the Bible!" book.

Ted Hawkins - I Gave Up All I Had

This week's real prize discovery. I'm excited to fill this space with Ted Hawkins tunes for weeks to come. And since I'm anticipating lots of Ted Hawkins I'll keep my commentary short. For now. His wiki bio is worth a read, though.

Inevitably, Irrevocably

Another birthday has gone by. It went by several weeks ago, in fact, but I am only now reviewing my annual progress towards 30.

By thirty-years-old, your adult will probably be able to...

Maintain eye contact while speaking
Refrain from discussing high school
Make small talk
Acknowledge other viewpoints (social)
Detect and respond to ambiguity

I've got two years to go here, and even though I can accomplish each of these proficiencies in isolation, mastering the four of them together continues to be a struggle. This is especially true when I attempt the more advanced proficiency, "Refrain from discussing college"; less-so since beginning work on "Make a martini (vodka)."

Recently, however, I've been wondering if I am wasting my time by working so diligently towards these standards. Birthdays, after all, merely remind us that "for the rest of our sad, wretched, pathetic lives, this is who we are to the bitter end."



And what if we actually regress?

The Referendum is a phenomenon typical of (but not limited to) midlife, whereby people, increasingly aware of the finiteness of their time in the world, the limitations placed on them by their choices so far, and the narrowing options remaining to them, start judging their peers’ differing choices with reactions ranging from envy to contempt...Yes: the Referendum gets unattractively self-righteous and judgmental. Quite a lot of what passes itself off as a dialogue about our society consists of people trying to justify their own choices as the only right or natural ones by denouncing others’ as selfish or pathological or wrong.

Which would mean that accomplishing proficiencies like "Acknowledge other viewpoints (social)" and "Detect and respond to ambiguity" will be more difficult at 40 than they are at 30 (or 28). And naturally this doesn't bode well for careerist pastimes that require proficiencies like "Tie a half-Windsor knot" and "File his taxes (standard 1040)."

For my part, I think I'll focus on truly mastering one or two proficiencies and hope that it sticks with me.

Man, That Was All She Wrote

Wedding season is once again upon us, and with the best news about the economy requiring a vague recollection of freshman Calculus couples are understandably terrified of both the expense and the math associated with traditional ceremonies.

Unfortunately, alternatives are scarce. Applications for subsidized weddings are flooding radio stations and theater companies across the nation. For most couples winning such contests demands an unrealistic amount of grace and charm, meaning the most cost-effective wedding option is one long chosen "on account-a the economy", but long stigmatized as featuring "no wedding day smiles."

We went down to the courthouse
And the judge put it all to rest
No wedding day smiles, no walk down the aisle
No flowers, no wedding dress

Onto this dreary and destitute stage step Improv Everywhere, an intrepid group taking upon itself the burden of undoing 30-years of Courthouse Wedding Springsteen Stigma. It rained yesterday, at the courthouse wedding of Raff and Frank, but there were smiles, aisles, flowers, dresses, and cake. And DJ Dunn. And all at no cost to the happy couple.

Baseball Shouldn't Mean This Much

When the Red Sox won the 2004 World Series I was a sappy, giggling idiot. So, not much different from how I am normally. But the win, especially coming a year after another epic loss, was a moment that lifted me out of my studio-apartmented, law-studented routine. It was wond'rous.

And it was something I'd been hoping for pretty hard, evidently, for months. When the Red Sox beat the Yankees in the ALCS my friend sent me an email chastising fans for celebrating the triumphs of millionaires while civilians were dying in Iraq. I viscerally lectured him on how real and true and meaningful and important the event was for "true fans." He wasn't wrong, exactly, but how dare he try to take baseball away from people who cared about it.

FOX's entire broadcast for the past week sought to reduce this contest to black vs. white, good vs. evil. (as an aside, their announcers then went on to cheer for the team they'd labeled "evil")perhaps in doing so they won a few more viewers, but true fans who care deeply about both teams also watched. if not for these fans and the stories they carry, FOX would have no basis for its exploitative, over-hyped, production.

A few weeks earlier, at the end of the regular season, I had gotten all weepy-eyed when Bill Simmons wrote an 8-page article about returning to Fenway for the final weekend. I remember feeling like it was the finest expression I'd ever read of what it meant to be a Red Sox fan. I remember nodding along as The Sports Guy explained why he wasn't emotionally ready for the playoffs:

Maybe enough time hasn't passed yet. I still remember everything about last October, those twelve playoff games unfolding like rounds in a classic boxing match, so many twists and turns that even Harold Lederman couldn't have scored it. I still remember the minutes and hours after that fateful Game 7 in the Bronx, when I called Dad just to make sure he was still breathing. I still remember the following afternoon, when everything hit me at once -- the residual emotions of the past three weeks swelling up like a killer wave, knocking me right on my back -- and I actually had to leave work early. It was too much. Baseball shouldn't mean this much.

So true, I thought, so true. Then they won and Bill put all his columns in a book and annotated them. This was the paragraph I was most excited to read. No sentence summed-up feelings of pride, joy, exhaustion, and plain ridiculousness for having those feelings be so strong better than, "Baseball shouldn't mean this much." I saved the article to my hard drive, lest the Internet erase my sentimentality.

That sentence is not in the book. Nor is there any annotation from Bill explaining why he took it out.

---

Yesterday we learned that Manny Ramirez tested positive for a banned substance, and Bill Simmons has a new column.

We look at the 2004 banner again. I always thought that, for the rest of my life, I would look at that banner and think only good thoughts. Now, there's a mental asterisk that won't go away. I wish I could take a pill to shake it from my brain. I see 2004 and 2007, and think of Manny and Papi first and foremost. The modern-day Ruth and Gehrig. One of the great one-two punches in sports history. Were they cheating the whole time? Was Pedro cheating, too? That 2004 banner makes me think of these things now. I wish it didn't, but it does. This makes me sad. This makes me profoundly sad.

Well. I understand. But this news does not make me profoundly sad. And the fact that it makes Bill Simmons profoundly sad makes me wonder again whether baseball should mean this much. Manny testing positive does not cheapen my feelings about the 2004 title. Maybe that just means I'm not (or no longer) among the true fans I praised five years ago.

Or maybe baseball just shouldn't mean this much. Maybe the bargain we strike should be one where we are entitled to our meaningful experiences, good and bad, but we are not entitled to re-evaluate those experiences. Much more than celebrating a moment when it happens, maybe it's constantly re-evaluating our celebration that gives a moment undeserved importance. We get to have strong feelings during a particular game or a particular season; questioning them after the fact is just self-flagellating and myopic. Baseball shouldn't mean that much.

I'd like to see Bill add that sentence to this article if it finds its way into another book. He can make room by getting rid of this sentence:

I wish I could take a pill to shake it from my brain.

Because isn't that how we got here in the first place?

Slug vs. Evil Overlords

Peter Anspach has some good advice for those of us with lofty aspirations.

37. If my trusted lieutenant tell me my Legion of Terror is losing a battle, I will believe him.. After all, he's my trusted lieutenant.

45. I will make sure I have a clear understanding of who is responsible for what in my organization. For example, if my general screws up I will not draw my weapon, point it at him and say "And here is the price for failure." then suddenly turn and kill some random underling.

But some of these policies may invite new kinds of Hero foes.

31. All naive, busty tavern wenches in my realm will be replaced with surly, world-weary waitresses who will provide no unexpected reinforcements and/or romantic sub-plot for the hero or his side-kick.

Don't look now, but...

Atmosphere - The Waitress

Girls Go For Status

Tonight Kelly Hogan dedicated Neko's final song to The Janesville Jammer, just seven months after dedicating Maybe Sparrow to The Hold Steady. My life has rarely made more sense than it has in those moments.

Makes me wonder if they flushed some diamonds down the drain together.

Neko Case - Magpie to the Morning

The Hold Steady - Girls Like Status (Live)

When We Were Alive

The Thermals - When We Were Alive

Dahlia remembers.

The fight we are having in America now is "Did it work?" And if we manage to persuade ourselves that torture does work, whether it's legal or even moral will no longer matter.

I Can Take My Clothes Off

This week, The US Supreme Court does The Frug.

JUSTICE BREYER: I mean, I think there's a dispute in the record about that. So -- so we have, I mean you would have the right to prove your version, obviously. But suppose you fail to prove that and that the jury or judge, or whoever is deciding this fact,
concludes the school board's right on that; all they did was ask her to strip to her underwear, period. Nobody saw anything else.

Run Out To Meet Me

There are tornado sirens in Minneapolis on the first Wednesday of every month. I heard them yesterday. And again today.

1:45 PM: The National Weather Service will issue a simulated tornado warning for Minnesota counties (except those in the northwestern part of the state). Note that most cities and counties will activate outdoor warning siren systems.

6:55 PM: Another simulated tornado warning will be issued

Simulated?

Neko Case - This Tornado Loves You

Seems unlikely.