esprit de l'escalier

Midnight Train to Georgia

Memories are funny, aren't they? You find them like Easter eggs, hidden all over the place, in smells, colors, songs, and in a flash you're transported somewhere else entirely. In high school, that's how I crafted my mix tapes. Each song was a personal Easter egg, that would whisk me to a specific place or a time in my life.

"Midnight Train to Georgia" by Gladys Knight and the Pips is a very powerful memory-inducing song for me. I heard it on my drive home tonight. It's one of those songs that when I chance to find it on the radio, I literally throw a fist in the air in glee. (Really. I spend too much time with my car radio.) "Midnight Train" leads me through a number of memories, as this particular song has been woven in the my life for a long time.

We used to listen to Gladys Knight and the Pip's Greatest Hits on tape on car trips when we were kids. (For the record, I also love the song, "You're the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me," which was at the end of one of the sides of the cassette.) My mother used to turn it up when it got to "Midnight Train," and we'd crowd up to the front of the minivan and sing along at the top of our lungs.

Although my brother, sister, and I love the song, we cannot sing it very well. Which we learned on a family cruise, when the three of us got up to sing it at karaoke night on the ship. Wow were we off tune. We laughed throughout it, after we completely fumbled the first couple of lines. That was a fun trip.

This song takes me all throughout my memory. I love that. Did you hear any good songs today?

Blues run the game

Last week I went to see Laura Marling with my friend Tina. Marling played at the Wexner Center in the Mershon Theatre, where the stage was turned into a black box. (Which was completely awesome with Edison-like bulbs hanging from the ceiling - I loved feeling like we were back stage.) I've been a fan of Marling's since her last album came out. She was a charming performer, she whistled and sang a bunch of new songs. She did a couple of covers too, including a Jackson C. Frank song, "Blues Run the Game."

Now, at some point I was introduced to Jackson C. Frank. I think it was college through my friend Joe, who was my go-to music guru for quite sometime. He went through an English folk music phase in college. I imagine that's when I found out about Frank and then more or less forgot. Now I've been listening to this song over and over. It's perfect for the rainy weather we've been having. Enjoy!

Brief musical interlude

This is the new video for The National's song "Apartment Story" - which is one of my favorite songs from Boxer. I love how natural this looks - how people start dancing little by little and then all together by the end.

School and some tunes

Sorry for the lack of posts! Things are going well. School is going well so far. I like my classes and classmates. Even the stats class seems like it will be fun. (I think working with number crunching nerds for so long rubbed off on me. Heehee, love you guys.) I only have classes Monday and Wednesday (with the hopes I'll be working part-time), so my days on campus are LONG.

I packed my lunch and dinner today, but my PB&J dinner melted quite a bit in my car today. I'm done with this 90 degree heat. Plus my building is freezing, so there is no happy medium. The building is all exposed concrete on the inside (here's an inside peek). It's not to my taste, plus it's drafty and has poor acoustics. It's like the architects tried to be too edgy and missed the mark. I like my buildings to be a bit more functional (not to mention pretty). The library is divine, though, and has a collection of designer chairs. My first day of school I didn't have anything to do and sat in an Eames rocker reading a book on Louis Sullivan. It was fairly divine. (I'm completely in love with the book, and John Szarkowski's photography.)

My commute to school begins early and I've becoming used to watching the sun rise. Below are some songs that I am currently loving on my (long) commute.

I'm totally obsessed with this new song from Spoon, "You Got Yr Cherry Bomb" and am very sad that a good video does not exist. The live vids are kind of terrible. Here's a link to where it's streaming elsewhere... Turn up the speakers.

Below is a video for John Doe's song the "The Golden State." On the album version, he sings with Kathleen Edwards, whom I love. Here the song is a little slower and is sung with Cindy Wasserman. It's still good.

And here's a video of a new Josh song, "Mind's Eye." The new album has firmly nestled itself into my brain.

On time and friendship

I have just returned from seeing a pair of friends I haven't seen in the last year and a half or so. It's been long enough for her to get pregnant and have the baby without me knowing. And they live within a mile of me. We've been very remiss in our friendship.

The past year and a half have been so busy that I've let a lot of friendships slide. I used to be so good and was a great keeper of tabs on many people. School and work have cut into that and I've not seen people that I don't already see on a normal basis. It's been too hard for me to plan in enough in advance to make differing schedules work, so I didn't try.

Perhaps I'm a little hard-hearted about it all, but I see it pragmatically, as being part of life. Time (and space) pushes people apart. As for the friends I saw tonight, we easily fell back into companionship. The reasons why I like them so much came flooding back, and we laughed and chatted and I cooed over their new baby. It's very possible I won't see them again, at least not for a very long time, which is sad, but we lead very different lives and I know the next time I do see them will be similar in tone to tonight.

I know I'm not completely hard-hearted about my pragmatism, though. A lump keeps rising in my throat when I think of my life and friends that I am going to be leaving behind here. I suddenly want to photograph everything: the buildings I pass on my ride to work, my cubicle, even the co-workers that drive me crazy. The co-workers I love, I don't know what to do about. I know it's inevitable that I will lose touch with some, and that keeping tabs on people seems to grow harder as you grow older, but I don't want to think about it. I'm afraid I'm going to cry like a baby on my last day of work.

A snippet of a Wilco song ("Sky Blue Sky") plays over in my head. Jeff Tweedy sadly crooning, "So happy to leave what was my home." I feel a little guilty leaving and being excited to leave, knowing how much I'm going to miss what was my home.

Quick Friday note

I've just set some potatoes to boil and I thought I'd jot a quick post. I'm making kielbasa, sauerkraut and mashed potatoes for dinner. This dinner makes me miss living with my brother. We had an eat-in kitchen and occassionally I'd make dinner for everyone and we'd sit, laughing, talking, eating, listening to good music. It was fun. Eating alone is no fun.

I'm pages from Wuthering Heights's end. Though the main characters have driven me mad through most of the book, it's rare that I sit forward on the L while reading, as if I'm trying to get as close as I can to the book. It kept me quite absorbed, though I doubt I'll read it again.

I'm planning on doing my Etsy recommendations next week. At least three days, touching on prints, jewelry and bags and other miscellaneous things. So tune in next week!

(Currently listening to my long-lost Motown Extravaganza mixtape I made circa end of high school. I love this tape and thought it was lost in the many moves I've had over the years. Before Elaine left for her travels through Asia, she asked if I had a cassette walkman to borrow. I did, in a box somewhere, from college. In it, forgotten, was my beloved mix! Happiness all around. Current song: "The Tracks of My Tears" by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles.)

Random bits

Today was gray and I've been tired all week. I fell into a deep food coma après le déjeuner and convinced my friend Sharon we needed to take a quick walk to the Prairie Avenue Bookstore and B&N for magazines. To get more oxygen in our veins. Plus I wanted the new issue of Dwell, but they were out. (The fabulous Ashley G and her boyfriend Drew are apparently quoted in an article about Etsy. Plus it's my current favorite magazine.) I did pick up a Fast Company and a new (to me) Sara Paretsky. I'm heading to DC this weekend for my friend Ginny's birthday, and to see my old roommate Mary and my cousin and his wife. (I also get to meet the lovely e. of Stories About Wolves! Yay for bloggy friends!) I needed some reading material for the plane and the metro. My trips to DC always consist of me running around town with my backpack, jumping from person to person. It's always nice to visit, but I'm always a little tired when I return.

Yesterday I had an email from some discount travel service advertising $204 fares to Europe. Then today I read that the Tate Modern is doing an exhibit this summer on Salvador Dalí and film. I'd love to see that. I loved his trippy dream sequences in Hitchcock's Spellbound. Though, at this moment, I can't see me working out a trip to London this summer. As much as I might want to go.

My fortune cookie today said, "Call an old friend today." I should do that before the day ends.

Part of my soundtrack today:
"Concrete Sky" by Beth Orton
"Jackson" by Lucinda Williams
"Leavin'" by Shelby Lynne
"Good Woman" by Cat Power

The polaroid above is one I took at the end of July. After I bought my camera I took it downtown and took some test shots around work. This is one of the Indian statues that bookend Congress Parkway. I always loved them as a kid. I took some polaroids into the lab at school to scan. I'll probably continue posting my good ones.

Old friends and blog catch-up

[Note from the editor: I have been remiss as a blogger lately. School, work, life seem to be getting in the way of writing. I keep making notes of things to write about (and did a PFR this weekend, so keep an eye out early this week for my write-up!) and so this is a bit of a retrospective for last weekend, which is a little lame. I should be more timely. I will try to be chastened.]

"Discovering Columbus" was a headline staring at me two weeks ago while riding the L home. It was coming from the back of the Travel section of the Trib, which the rider sitting across from me was reading. I was unsurprised to find the write-up to be very patronizing to my hometown.

So here we have Columbus with a population close to 730,000--a city larger, by that measure, than Boston, Cleveland, Las Vegas or Seattle, to name a few examples--ranking 15th in the U.S.

And yet...the Cubs, Sox, Bulls and Bears can't play a Columbus home team. And yet...the Chicago Tribune stylebook insists we say "Columbus, Ohio" in the dateline, while smaller cities, such as Des Moines and Akron, are considered so well known they can stand by themselves.

Apparently though the writer goes on to admit there are several other places named "Columbus," he still feels the need to put down the name. Nor did he get the memo that both Chicago and Columbus have teams in the NHL and MLS, but apparently those sports do not matter. (Not that I'm bitter or anything.) I guess it is nice to have an article written, I just don't appreciate the tone, as if the writer just wandered into some forgotten, insignificant corner of the moon or something.

I was traveling home for my friend Dana's wedding, which was wonderful. She and her husband Brian were married in a barn-like church that was beautiful in its simplicity. The weather was the warmest all week (and weekend) and the sky was clear and blue with all of the trees in just-past peak color. Dana is an inspiring friend and I felt very lucky to share such an important day with her and her family. (Dana and Brian were registered at her company, Global Giving, which helps connect funding to locally-run social and environmental projects around the world. Which just adds to the reasons why I am always impressed with Dana.) The reception was fun, the music during the cocktails could have been my iPod set to random, and I even caught part of the bouquet. The bouquet hit a chandelier and split into about five pieces, four of which went flying in one direction a bunch of younger girls went tearing after them. I went and picked up the remaining piece and at least now I know I'll be in the album. :)

Over the weekend I also got a chance to visit with my friend Joe, who I haven't been able to see on my last visits. We had a great time catching up— it's so nice having people with whom it is always easy to reconnect. I am so much luckier to have those friends in my life. (Though I did not get to see a couple other friends who I meant to see. My trips home are never long enough.)

This weekend was full of more old friends. My friend Bird was in town again. I continue to scheme (in conjunction with many others) to try and get her to move here. My high school friend Carter was in town as well. It was great to reconnect with him, especially in Chicago. He and I are a bit like the odd couple. We show our love by constantly bickering. We had two meals together with other friends. This afternoon he joined my roommate and our friends Libby and Ryan for lunch. He's met Libby and Natasha both once a piece, years ago, but he remarked how it felt he's known them much better. It did feel very natural to be sitting at a table with the three of them. It's nice when worlds collide.

Currently listening to The Best of Chet Baker Sings.

Birds

I went into Myopic Books on Saturday, on my jaunt through the neighborhood on the lovely afternoon. Going into used bookstores within a week of moving? Probably not the best idea. (I can already see my mother's eyes rolling, don't buy any more books! Which is only ironic, but it is probably coming from a place of true knowledge. But sometimes, the genes win out over common sense.)

Anyhow, I cruised in there and snooped around the stacks of new arrivals. Not biting anything there, I peeked in the narrow stacks of fiction. Myopic has 2 1/2 levels. There is a little middle floor with the beginning of the alphabet-- it reminds me of the half floor in Being John Malkovitch. I was up there for some specific author that now slips my mind and I thought of Daphne DuMaurier for some reason, or maybe I was in the D's? Anyhow, I found this book of short stories, The Birds and Other Stories. The Birds? As in the Hitchcock film? I thought it must be, since she wrote Rebecca and Jamaica Inn, but I was so surprised this nugget had slipped by me in my Hitchcock phase (which overlapped with my first reading about the second Mrs. DeWinter). And I was correct! She wrote the short story that was the basis for the film! Obviously I had to buy this book and her first novel, right?

Now, I don't want to ruin this story for anyone, because if you like spine-tingling tales, this is for you. I read it on the way to and from work on Monday. The morning was beautiful and clear, as was the afternoon. It still scared the crap out of me. Seriously, she insinuates herself so well into your subconscious and you see everything through the protagonist's eyes and mind. The story is different from the film, and very short. It takes place in a small coastal English town instead of California. Read it, really.

Here is a description from the beginning of the story, at midday with hero watching the birds fly at sea.

Autumn was the best for this, better than spring. In spring the birds flew inland, purposeful, intent; they knew where they were bound, the rhythm and ritual of their life brook no delay. In autumn those that had not migrated overseas but remained to pass the winter were caught up in the same driving urge, but because the migration was denied them followed a pattern of their own. Great flocks of them came to the peninsula, restless, uneasy, spending themselves in motion; now wheeling, circling in the sky, now settling to feed on the rich new-turned soil, but even when they fed it was as though they did so without hunger, without desire. Restlessness drove them to the skies again.

I recently read my first P.G. Wodehouse book, Something Fresh. Mannion is right again. I have a notion, though, that I want to read the series in order. I don't feel this is strictly necessary, since there are *so* many books, but it's an odd thing I want to accomplish. Please tell me if this is crazy and totally unnecessary.

I'm currently listening to The Weepies' album Say I Am You. I am embarrassed to say that I first heard of them from Mandy Moore's most recent Celebrity Playlist on iTunes. She has pretty good taste in music for a pop starlet.

Also, since I'm airing laundry, I have figured out a block for me in blogging, which is really obvious. When I type out my bloggy bits, I usually can't help myself from adding in links as I write. This is very disruptive to my train of thought! I get half way through a sentence and completely forget my pithy comment! So I'm trying to stop this. I just wanted you all to know.

Concert hopping

Tonight I went from one concert (Dar Williams at the Vic) to another (Rhett Miller of the Old 97's at the Abbey Pub) with my friend Cindy. The day after she bought our tickets to see Dar, Cindy found out that Rhett (whom she loves, with very good reason) was playing a late solo show. One we would have to go to. And I'm very happy I did.

I saw Dar Williams a couple of years ago in Indy with my friend Stacey. It was awesome. We got to meet her (briefly), because of a connection Stacey had with the radio station sponsoring the show. She was very mellow tonight. She's recently had a baby and chatted to the audience about lots of stuff, from her hair to sustainable living, to biodiesel to cracks about the Scooter indictments today. The crowd very much made me think of Collins. The Vic was outfitted with seats, and we were up front, which was great. She played some of the songs I adore, which is always excellent.

After the second encore ended, Cindy and I were quick out of our seats, hopped in a cab, picked up her car and found our way to the Abbey Pub. We missed the beginning of Rhett's set, but probably heard him sing for a little over an hour. It was fantastic. The atmosphere change was huge. We went from very crunchy, mother earthy to a smoky, sweaty, beer soaked joint. I have to say, I enjoyed the second atmosphere better. I like when I can shake my butt a little. And Rhett. Good LORD. That man is ATTRACTIVE. I think he looks younger now than when I saw the Old 97's a couple of months ago. I found a picture online of him from a solo show. I hope it can convey to you what I hope it does. I mean, the man doesn't like to button the top of his shirt. Why should I complain? His hair was all flopping in his face and he's got this great grin, singing his heart out. Speeding through them, with the crowd jumping and singing along with him. He's rock and roll with a little country, hilarious lyrics about love going wrong or dying or driving a man crazy. Just fantastic. If you can get a hold of the Old 97's album Satellite Rides, it comes with a second cd of six live songs. You won't be able to turn it off, or to stop shaking your ass.

Songs in my head: Dar: "Mercy of the Fallen" and "As Cool As I Am."
Rhett: "Rollerskate Skinny" and "Won't Be Home."