Today is the five year anniversary of when we moved to DC. I can tell you exactly where I was at this time five years ago: on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. A few hours from now, I was pulling into a motel outside of Hagerstown, an hour or so away from DC. But before then, I was on the Turnpike and then I was on I-70. I have driven that stretch of the Turnpike many many times over the past 15 years. To and from college, and then to and from grad school. On that night, we’d been driving all day, and it was dark, and we’d been packing the truck until late the night before and we were tired; pretty much the same story as all the other moves from the Midwest to the East Coast or back in the other direction that we’d made before then.
I refer to that night, only half jokingly, as the time the Friendstheme saved my life. I was listening to the radio, because I’d gotten tired of the tapes I had in the car, and I had the windows down (no air conditioning, since I was driving the Mustang), and it was a beautiful night. Coming over the mountains where I-70 drops down from the Turnpike to Maryland is my favorite part of the drive, the way the valley just opens up and you get this beautiful panoramic view of the area. That night, there was a bright moon, and after spending the whole evening with truckers, there was no one on the road but us. At one point, I caught a turn in the road just right and I was the only one there. I couldn’t see the headlights of the truck on the road behind me, there was no one coming in the other direction, and I turned off the car’s lights, just for a few seconds, just to see what it was like to be out there, in the mountains, with just the light of the moon. It was spectacular.
It was later, about a half hour down the road, when I had been lulled into a daze, driving out of habit. I don’t know if I was really asleep at the wheel, or just in a road coma, but I remember being jolted fully awake by the unmistakable sound of the intro to the Friends theme. I wasn’t really sure where we were, or how far I’d come from the earlier moment when I had been fully alert and convinced I could drive all night. But, clearly I couldn’t drive all night, and on a mountain in the dark is no place to be falling asleep at the wheel. So we stopped, and everything was fine. Well, as fine as they could be while staying in a $35/night motel, an experience that I won’t dwell on here.
I don’t think I’ve heard the Friends theme since then, but I can call it up and see the road appearing in front of me, the shock of having been drifting off, and the relief of realizing that nothing bad had happened.
So, happy moving-to-DC anniversary to us! And, thank you, Rembrandts, for making it all possible.
Last year, we saw our first Wagner production, Parsifal performed by the Kirov Opera Company, also at the Kennedy Center. As relative novices to the world of opera fandom, we certainly weren’t representative of the usual Wagner-going crowd. We chose Parsifal in order to see the Kirov company perform, as well as for the music itself. Certainly Parsifal is not, erm, the most engaging story ever told on the stage. At that performance, we wavered early on and nearly left at the first intermission: the combined effect of the sonorous score, the slow and dull plot, and being seated behind an entire row of overly perfumed ladies of a certain age almost got the better of us. We rallied, though, and moved to the handicapped seating area, which was thankfully empty. From there, we stayed for the remaining two acts, enjoyed the music, and, in the end, patted ourselves on the back for our dedication and endurance.
Compared to Parsifal, we imagined that attending Die Walküre would be a cakewalk. Well, not quite a cakewalk, but it had a lot more going for it: a more lively score, a more engaging plot, and Plácido Domingo singing Siegmund. All of these bonuses notwithstanding, the sheer length of the performance and extremely slow pacing combined with our end of the week fatigue to mean that we were ready to call it quits midway through. We chose to leave at the second intermission, having seen the stunning sets, heard the famous Domingo, and taken in the excellent performance by the orchestra. We were simply too tired to stay until the end and then face the metro trip home, and we didn’t want to try to slip out in the dark midway through the third act. As a result, we forewent hearing “Ride of the Valkyries” at the beginning of Act Three. The teaser in Act Two, when Brünnhilde first appears to the twins, will have to serve as our experience of hearing the piece performed live.
At this point, I think we’ll get back on the horse with another Verdi (we saw a touring production of La traviata at the Opernhaus Zürich in 1997) or maybe a Puccini, and slowly build up to facing Wagner again. Or, you know, just rest on our laurels with Parsifal and call it a draw.
Beginning only a day or two after November’s national election, I started to have songs recur on my wee shuffle that I hardly listened to at all before then. Each and every one of them imprinted itself on my brain complete with an image connecting it with the incoming Congress, and I haven’t been able to shake the associations since. I keep meaning to burn this mix to actual CDs and send them to my friends, but barring that unlikely eventuality, I’m going to just go ahead and spread the love.
All Hail the 110th Congress : props to the voters, from the near-burbs of the hotbed
1. Believe — Yellowcard.Issue I : September 11th. It didn’t take long for our optimistic queries of ‘how bad can it be?’ to be answered after the 2000 election. I need not revisit the disastrous lost opportunities of the aftermath of September 11th. Some memories are longer than others. This song is my favorite one referencing that day. 2. 99 Red Balloons — Nena.Issue II : Iraq. I can’t hear this song, with its reference to ‘super high tech jet fighters’ without thinking of the first Iraq war, the celebration of those videotaped bombings, and the expectation that this would be ‘our’ version. The totally fubar situation we’ve created is another point I need not belabor; it was clearly on a lot of minds in November. 3. Shop for America — Bratmobile.Issue III : The Economy. Despite all assurances to the contrary, most of us are looking around and seeing a lot of people out of work, struggling, and tightening their belts. I didn’t run out and spend my hard-earned dollars on duct tape and plastic (sorry, 3M), and I’m not planning to run out and buy travel sizes of all my toiletries, either (sorry, Johnson & Johnson). I plan to continue to do my patriotic duty by shopping organic, taking public transportation, and investing in my responsibly-investing IRA, thankyouverymuch. 4. George Bush Doesn’t Care About Black People — The Legendary K.O.Issue IV : Hurricane Katrina. Few things brought home the reality of life in the U.S. of A. to all the non-sociologists out there in the way that the flooding of New Orleans and the thousands of related preventable deaths did. We actually played this in our house on election night, with our fingers crossed. 5. No More Bullshit — Camper Van Beethoven.Issue V : Corruption. Man, if we thought the Reagan era was bad, this decade is giving the 80s a run for its money. There’s a limit to what people will forgive in their elected representatives, and I have to believe we’re approaching it. 6. I’ve Done Everything For You — Rick Springfield.Election Night : Republicans see the light and desert the ship. I have to hand it to republican voters: they have been loyal like kicked dogs these past 20 years. Enough is enough, though, and I’m sure the democrats are happy to welcome them into the fold. 7. Few and Far Between — 10,000 Maniacs.Election Night : Democrats clean up their act. We’re finally starting to see democrats talking frankly about cleaning up their own party. Voters appeared to be willing to give them another chance, but I hope it’s clear that the ‘better than nothing’ vote was a big factor, and hardly a ringing endorsement of past failures of spine. 8. All or Nothing — Cher.Election Night : Voters line up. In some parts of our state, voters didn’t finish voting until nearly 11pm, three hours after the polls officially closed. This was true all over the country, and local videos documenting the lines were moving. Clearly people saw this past election as the time to put up or shut up, and they came out in force. 9. Loser — Beck.Santorum.Rick, in the world of chimpanzees you truly are a monkey. Good riddance to bad rubbish. 10. Karma Chameleon — Culture Club.Lieberman. Well, Joe, you snaked your way in again. I will personally throw a party the day this republicrat is out of office for good. Say what you will, voters of Connecticut, but for all the big talk, you chose not to elect an actual democrat, and I, for one, noticed. 11. Napoleon — Ani Difranco.Delay. I’m not sure Tom realizes that he lost. I’m not sure Tom realizes that laws apply to him. I’m not sure Tom realizes that he’s not a hero to his party. But who can tell. 12. All I Need Is a Miracle — Mike + the Mechanics.Foley. It’s one thing to have a dead guy on the ballot; apparently it’s a completely different thing to have a perv. Take heart, Mr. Foley: maybe in the noble tradition of defeated incumbents like John and Spence, a place will be found for you in Executive service. 13. Howard Dean’s Crazy Train — the internets.We ride the wave in the House. In 2004, I made a CD of all the Dean yell mashups from the internets and gave it to a guy I barely knew, who had been working on Howard Dean‘s campaign up until that point. He probably didn’t take it as a very friendly gesture, but it was meant as an honor to Dr. Dean (really, Tristan, it was!). Someone who can garner such acclaim and derision, all in the somewhat unique genre of the internet remix, is someone to be taken seriously. Despite not being a democrat, I have always kind of loved Howard Dean. And holy god was watching the election returns come in like being on a crazy train! It was like waking up on November 8th, 2000, except in reverse. I’m willing to give some of that credit to Dr. Dean, and learn how to love while forgetting how to hate. 14. What a Feeling — Irene Cara.1:30am, November 7th, 2006. So, it’s nearly midnight. We’re still watching network TV and refreshing the Virginia Commonwealth website every few minutes, trying to get the final regional results so we’ll be informed for the morning. We’re not really expecting much, since over 90% of the precincts have reported, and Fairfax County can’t be that big. Can it? And then it’s 95% reporting and somehow the gap is closing, in more than the trickles it was showing earlier. And then it’s just after 1am, 98% reporting, and suddenly the democrat is ahead. Which means that, against all reason, it’s become entirely possible — at 1:30 in the morning — that the American voters have booted the republicans out of both houses of Congress. Un-believable. 15. 1999 — Prince.It almost feels like the 20th century. Remember when we were hopeful about our elected officials? When we expected them to vote in our interests? Yes, we had pretty much realized that wasn’t going to happen without long drawn out ugly mud-slinging matches by 1999. Having spent most of the decade waiting for 1999 to get here, I find myself nostalgic for it after its passing. And after the disappointment that was 2000, this is kind of like the party we were planning to have then. An actual agenda seems possible: a living wage, universal health care, an end to corporate welfare, campaign finance reform, and investigations into the invasion of Iraq. 16. Ain’t No Stoppin’ Us Now — McFadden & Whitehead.Wake up and do ‘The Math,’ Mr. Rove The incumbents concede. There are no drawn-out recounts or court battles. The efforts of republicans in Maryland to get democrats to vote for them because their candidate is black fail. I could go on and on, but we all know how to add 202 and 31 to get 233. If I were a person who thrived on petty satisfactions, this would have been a season of abundance. But since I’m not, I wasn’t gleefully jumping around the room all night long shouting out things in the vein of ‘put that in your ‘we will keep both houses’ pipe and smoke it, you smug [your favorite male gendered expletive here]!’ Really, I wasn’t. Ok, maybe I was gloating just a little. But no shouting, and that’s the truth. 17. Dancing With Myself — Billy Idol.No war but the class war! For the first time, we have a true blue — or should I say red? — socialist in the Senate. Don’t be a patsy, Bernie: they need you more than you need them. Not that you ever were a patsy, Mr. Kicking Butt And Taking Names in Vermont. If Barbara Lee voted for me in 2001, I now pass that flag to you to bear in the Senate. I’m sure you won’t let me down. 18. Short Skirt Long Jacket — Cake.Welcome, Madam Speaker! What more can I say? She is fast, thorough, and sharp as a tack / She’s touring the facility and picking up slack. The first woman Speaker of the House, and a California leftie at that. This is one song that got stuck in my head and wouldn’t leave. Every time I saw Nancy on the front page of the paper, or on the nightly news, I kept thinking, She uses a machete to cut through red tape. Let’s hope so. 19. Love Train — The O’Jays.Spread the love. It’s never too late to get on board. Bonus track: I’ll Take Your Man — Salt N Pepa.Pelosi : 1, Bush : 0. The election’s over, and it just keeps getting better and better. I barely had time to integrate the shift of both chambers of Congress a mere 10 hours prior, and what to my wondering eyes does appear, but Rumsfeld getting the boot. This has always been one of my favorite songs, but its fit in this situation kept me laughing for days. I could pick many choice lines as illustration, but the best one would have to be: Before I got on the stage you wished me good luck / Turned around and told your friends I suck / Well look at you now, you ain’t got nobody / Searching for love in a fifth of Bacardi. As an epilogue to this sad tale of loss, I give you Bolton: Don’t make me prove to you that I can / Either give him up, or get slammed. Let’s make that Pelosi : 2, then, shall we? Booyah.
Bonus video: ‘Freedom’ Because you can never have too many reminders of what’s at stake.
One of my gifts this year was Mental Jewelry on CD. The band, Live, is one of my favorite bands, largely on the strength of this first album. I have a weakness for debut albums, believing they represent an artist’s hopes and dreams that they’ve been tweaking and polishing for years up until the point of recording. Plus, they frequently remain the best of a band’s discography, unless the artist dramatically changes their sound.
At any rate, Live is one of my favorite bands, and Mental Jewelry is one of my all-time favorite albums, and up until now I have only had the album dubbed on tape. It’s true that I have two copies, each given to me by the two people I was closest to that year. Which is perhaps a clue as to my affinity for the album: it reflects my ethics and sensibilities regarding living in the world in many ways. I suppose that’s why the two people who knew me best in 1992 passed it along. To some degree, selections from their first album have an energy similar to that of other recordings from that year: EMF, Jesus Jones, Ned’s Atomic Dustbin. Which is fine by me, I am of my age and I liked all of them as well. Just not as much as I still like Live.
I started hankering to have a copy of Mental Jewelry on CD after seeing them at Meadowbrook this past summer. I happened to be in LaSalle, and to see an ad for the concert on TV. As it happened, I could have picked up a voucher at any gas station in the Detroit area and gone for five bucks, but I didn’t; I bought a single ticket and showed up early to pick it up at the box office. The guy in the seat next to me had done the same thing—he’d also driven nearly 4 hours to come to the show, and had never seen them in concert before. This made the fourth time I’d seen them, and it was definitely the biggest venue. Well, the Palace was comparable, but they were the opener.
I am a bad fan. Despite having loved the music for 15 years now, I knew very little about them, and still couldn’t really tell you who’s who in the band. I’ve always known they were my age, I remembered that much from having interviewed them after the show at my college my first year. But I only recently learned they were from Pennsylvania, and I couldn’t tell you any kind of trivia about them. I do know that they’ve been together as a band since junior high, and that may explain some of the fondness I have for them. That aspect reminds me of people I know who’ve been playing together just about that long, and have succeeded in leaving the garage sound behind. I have to say, knowing a lot of people who played music in garages growing up pretty much ruined me for garage bands in my adult life.
But, back to Live. I got the CD as a gift, I listened to it on our car trip across the Midwest, and I thought to myself ‘I must have listened to this tape A Lot, because I know every word of every song and I would have sworn I couldn’t even tell you what was on this album with any degree of reliability.’ I still couldn’t tell you the names of half of the songs, but the brain cells that contain the actual music have not been reallocated after all.
So now, this week, I’ve been listening to the CD on my wee shuffle. I’m sure I’ll get sick of it again at some point. So far, though, all it’s really done is give me a strong craving to hear the version of ‘I Walk the Line’ that they performed at the concert last summer. Which in turn is giving me a strong craving to see the film again; one of the rare instances when I thoroughly enjoyment Reese’s acting, in addition to being impressed with both of their voices. Even the interjections of my friends to the tune of ‘he wasn’t that good-looking, was he? I don’t remember him looking like Joaquin Phoenix, did he? Can we find a picture online?’ didn’t take away my appreciation.
