Dedicated to the proposition that all phrases are not created equal.
My mother, predictably, seems to like the pictures I take with my iPhone. Apparently I set up her picasaweb / google email address to notify her when I upload new pictures automatically. So, now, every time I upload a new one, I get an email from her talking about them. I can’t even remember what I uploaded last, most times. Anyway, this is one of the cooler ones I took the other day. I thought I’d share it here.
I attended the Andrew Bird show on Wednesday evening. It was a really great time. Their opener was a ban
d called Lonely, Dear who was also awesome. I’m not quite sure how to describe the opener. They are from Sweden and used strange noises in harmony to great effect. I couldn’t tell much about the lyrics, but they sounded very cool and original. I am beginning to appreciate hip, original music all the more lately. The classic four-man rock band seeming a bit overdone, if that makes sense.
The crowd was…excellent. I saw more girls that I was attracted to in one location than I think I have ever seen. Basically, they were hip without overdoing it and cute without trying types. Curly hair, thoughtful eyes, many pairs of horn-rim glasses. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself in that context. I sat next to this terribly cute couple. They were probably five years older than me or so. The woman was pregnant and the guy looked like a more athletic version of me…predictably, in five years. Anyway, we chatted a good chunk of the time music wasn’t being played. Seems her brother-in-law is considering becoming a patent attorney, so we chatted about that a bit.
The Orpheum Theatre was also impressive. The venue is, obviously, very old. Though, the interior appears to have been completely redone in the last several years. It was a small, acoustically-pleasing venue. There are at least two bars, the original from the 30s or so and a newer bar upstairs that included a huge wall-projection of the stage along with suitable sound system so if you step out for a drink you don’t miss a minute of the show or music. I look forward to the chance to return to the venue for other shows in the future!
Andrew was predictably amazing. I always appreciate watching and listening to a musician who is good at his craft. Andrew is that and creates interesting music as well. Often, the “best” music is also the most predictable, boring or… overstated, shall we say. He is an excellent lyricist, whistler and violinist. It makes for an unusual (see above) combination. He brings it all together so well. He used a serious amount of looping his own whistling, violin and voice. He also used a strange spinning speaker-system (seen in the picture below) to add a Doppler effect to much of the looped sound. All this showmanship came off with appropriate humility and aplomb. Anyway, it was one of the more fun shows for me in a while.
I attended Opera at the Grand.
The Grand, by the way, is a super-cool theatre. It’s obviously from the 30s and very art-deco, despite the fact that it is relatively small. It comes from a time when people cared about the appearance of such things beyond is it “clean” and is it “functional.” I still need to take that Art Deco Los Angeles Tour one of these Saturdays. If only it didn’t require me to go… downtown on a non-work-day. Ugh.
Moving on. . . I went to see an old friend sing. Well, she’d laugh at that. I went to see a friend sing. I’ve known her a long time, relatively speaking — almost 13 years. For someone who’s 29, thats a goodly chunk of life.
Not a great picture I took there, eh? She’s on the left being dramatic. Oh well, she was phenominal — not that I’m any real judge of operatic talent. Either way, I was impressed and the little I do know tells me that she was a more powerful singer than all of the other participants. And, call me partial, but the mezzos tend to have richer voices than anyone but a seriously solid baritone. Maybe it’s just the vocal range in that register of the throat (given one’s natural range as male or female).
Anyway, she sung the Flower Duet from Lakme by Leo Delibes. I was blown away. Sometime in 2001 or 2002 was the last time I heard that. I used to own a CD called The Best Opera Album in the World . . . Ever! that included this and many other songs. The CD was given to me by the friend who I went to see (and hear) sing. Somewhere along the line we both lost that CD. So, I went and found it again. Spending a whopping $2.98 on a CD was rough, but I got it a few days ago. Here it is:
To it’s credit, it is a pretty great opera album. It’s sort of a “greatest hits” from all the big names plus a few no-names that have some excellent songs, like Leo Delibes.
Anyway, I was impressed with my friend. She’s performing this weekend at the Metropolitan Opera’s Regional Auditions. She talks it down (to keep herself from getting too nervous), but I know it’s a big deal for her to even be in it. It’d be an even bigger deal if she makes it.
I hope she does well. Somehow, make it or not, I know she will.
In other news, there was a small reception afterward. It was nice to see her, but it was also depressing to me to see these small paintings in this gallery. I sat and stared at a few for quite a while. For personal reasons, several were quite depressing. This one in particular:
I decided to remove the last post. I’m happy with it, but I think it is probably best left unsaid.
Well, I’m still reading Soren Kierkegaard: A Biography. It’s a beast to get through.
Large chapters dedicated to each year of Kierkegaard’s life. It’s some dense reading, but I’m loving it. I’ve been learning things things about Soren’s father, brother & fiance (subsequently his ex-fiance). It is also interesting that the author notes that Kierkegaard actively cultured an image later in his life in an attempt to present a particular person as Kierkegaard to posterity. For example, he was less-than-devoted as a Christian in his youth. He was by no means “wild,” but he was immature, slothful and spent far too much of his father’s money. Essentially, he was a rich, spoiled brat. I knew/known a few of those.
My “book club” is also in the midst of reading The Tipping Point…well, I should say, I’m in the midst of reading. The rest of the poor group are on pages 0, 25 and 80 respectively. Anyway, it’s a book about the way in which epidemics start. He pulls data from all types of areas from sexually transmitted diseases to the Hush Puppies craze.
It’s starts out very strong and interesting, identifying types of individuals and the various ways they influence others. For example, some people simpley “know” alot of people. These people are great at putting people in touch with others, but generally they don’t often influence these people very effectively because they are “loose” connections. Others influence people heavily, but don’t know as many people. Still others have a great deal of information, but are typically poor influencers. Anyway, after that, the book drifted into cognative theory in discussing children’s shows such as Sesame Street and Blue’s Clues. It kinda lost me at that point. Anyway, I’m going to make myself get through it.
Finally, I’m going to suggest to the book club that we read The White House Mess next. I gather that it’s good stuff. In point of fact, it is set in 1988 and Ronald Reagan sits in his PJs in the Oval Office and refuses to leave the White House. I’ve never read Christopher Buckley before, but I’ve heard a few people tell me he’s great. I’ve, obviously, seen Thank You For Smoking. I thought that one was pretty great. So, I figure another book by the same guy should be alright. Besides, I’ve also heard he’s got a heck of a vocabulary, which should be good for me.
In other news, I’m tired now. I’m going to finish watching The Wendal Baker Story.
Ok, I’ve been busy.
I have had three nights in the past two weeks past midnight. So, needless to say, I haven’t been posting.
In other news, I think I’ve decided on a Halloween costume.
I hope its a big hit.
Weezer. A band that for many people of approximately 25-31 conjures up images of middle school to high school listening to “Say it Ain’t So” while riding in a car to some destination of young fantastical (only in our minds) whimsy. Similarly, the name Weezer conjures images of the greatness of the infamous second album, Pinkerton. I’ve been developing a theory for the last few weeks as to why individuals of approximately my age enjoyed Pinkerton so much. Please bear with me while I elucidate.
Weezer found a place in many of our hearts based on their first self-titled album. The album caught us at the precise moment many of us were coming down from the Nirvana high of angst, anger and confusion. The songs on that first album were all upbeat, all positive, all slightly-nauseating reminders of some false mental image of idealism that one has as a young person. The most negative song on the album is “Say it Ain’t So” that describes his step-father’s drunkenness in such sweet tones that almost no one knows or remembers what it’s actually about. It’s also hidden between songs about comimg “Undone” (whatever that means to a 16 year-old-kid), the Beach Boy’s Esque “Surf Wax America,” hanging out “In the Garage” with your friends and a “Holiday” on the beach somewhere they don’t speak English. Any confusion caused by “Say it Aint’ So” is quickly forgotten after a healthy consideration (over and over and over) of the 38 minute album as a whole. One is want to repeat albums many times when one is so young and impressionable. Kids my age loved this album. We ate it up. It had panache. It was catchy. It had just enough substance to keep us listening for more than a few goes-round. I, personally, think that the Blue Album is probably one of the best albums of the 90′s. Incidentally, I think Nirvana (who influenced Rivers Cuomo) and Foo Fighters created some of the other best albums of the ’90′s.
This first album, so goes my theory, is one of the main reasons why we all remember Pinkerton with such affection. The Blue Album so had our attention that when River’s & Co. followed it up only 2 years later, we were ready to be filled with the joyous hook-pop we’d all been exposed to the first time around. But, oh no, this time Rivers had a surprise for us–real emotion. From the first song, “Tired of Sex,” the listener knows that this is no Blue Album. Pinkerton is a dramatic shift in topic and emotion from bubble-gum rock to topics like: falling in love with a homosexual girl (“Pink Triangle), receiving a heartfelt letter from 4000 miles away (“Across the Sea“), hoping for love, instead of simply sex (“Tired of Sex“), dealing with an extended hospital stay (“The Good Life“), trying to figure out how to convince a friend to try a relationship with you (“El Scorcho“) and perhaps the most dramatic of Pucini’s operas, and in particular the abandonment of a lovely, caring woman (“Butterfly“). This last song is, essentially, the title track of the album.
The amazing thing was that we were all unprepared or, perhaps, perfectly prepared to be introduced to these complex emotions. Ordinarily, the album would not have caught our collective attention. In fact, I think had we heard most of these songs on the radio, we’d have quickly turned the dial. There was a reason that “El Scorcho” was the only single on the album. However, it was Weezer. This was the band we knew and loved so well from just two summers earlier. The entire Weezer fan base collectively inserted those CD’s into their CD players and took the time necessary to listen to these complex, messy, thoughtful songs precisely because they had so loved the simple, happy, thoughtless songs two years before. Those of us who stuck with the album for a bit realized that Rivers was a thoughtful guy, that these songs were so much better than the first album… in quite a different and previously-inexperienced way and that in the end, we would all like this album so much more than the first. I think, years later, that we’re all listening to people so heavily influenced by Pinkerton that it’s amazing. Bands like Jimmy Eat World and Death Cab for Cutie are precise follow-ups to both albums. In some ways, they’re vast improvements. How unfortunate.
The sad path of Weezer post-Pinkerton is well-known. They’ve failed to really find a main-stream audience in almost 10 years. My thought on this is that River’s response to the critical acclaim and lack of public approval of Pinkerton was to, first, disappear for five years. Once Weezer finally put out a third album it was rushed and an attempt to run back to the happy innocence of the Blue Album. We who had persisted in our love of Weezer weren’t fooled. Next, River’s attempted some more introspection, but it still seemed cold and contrived. To my ears, Make Believe was the closest they’ve come to Pinkerton-esque work (only on a few songs) and perhaps more importantly, the best they’ve been since Pinkerton. Finally, the Red Album has some good things, but really falls short on multiple levels, notably allowing Brian Bell to sing. While I think the band is, obviously, his as well it just doesn’t work for me. The best songs on the album are the “bonus tracks” that apparently you only receive if you order the album online. The thing these albums have in common is an inability to either find the original poppiness of the Blue Album or the heartfelt complexity expressed so eloquently in Pinkerton. They all seem to find some middle ground, which is to say, no ground.
I have tickets to go see them, yet again. All I hope for is for them to play all the songs from thost first two albums and “Peace” from Make Believe. I’m sure they’ll throw in some stuff from the Red Album, I just hope its the two or three “bonus tracks” or “Heart Songs.”
I was watching the Darjeeling Limited today and realized that it contains a line I always liked. The Darjeeling Limited is, of course, a train, that is at least partially representative of the path of the characters’ lives. The opening scene is of, presumably the main characters’ father, missing a train. As you find out later, the father has died. Early in the movie the brother’s train takes a wrong turn, much like the character’s lives already have, and their train must be righted.
My favorite line is uttered by Rita, an Indian woman working on the train played by the beautiful Amara Karan.
She has been taken advantage of (and incidentally has taken advantage of) Jack Whitman. As he is kicked off the train, she poses a question to Jack.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Her inquiry is in response to the brother’s antics on the train up to that point in the movie.
Each of these brothers lives are off-track for one reason or another. Jack Whitman is completely broken-hearted having just broken off his relationship with his girlfriend, played by Natalie Portman. Francis Witman’s face and the rest of his body have been broken in a physical and visible way (he’s wearing bandages through most of the movie) by an automobile accident. Peter Whitman is married and about to have a child, but is obviously very broken by the death of the three brother’s father. They are also all self-absorbed, hurtful to one another and unable to cooporate.
The question posed to Jack is intentionally metaphorical and existential. What is wrong with Jack? Where are these brothers and what are they doing? Each brother is lost along their spiritual journey. Each is trying, in their own misguided ways, to find their way through this life. Each is carrying emotional “baggage” conveniently represented by a large set of matched luggage. The luggage previously belonged to their now-deceased father. Each brother carries three or four pieces of the luggage. Only when they are together is the entire set collected. Each brother now carries a tangible small piece. Of course, near the end of the film, the brothers must abandon their luggage in order to catch their train, no longer the Darjeeling Limited.
In a scene shortly after Rita’s question, the brothers push their father’s car out into the street during a flashback. They inadvertently cut a large truck-driver off. Peter yells at the driver out of the car door and he steps out of his truck in order to deliver a sound beating. The brothers each in turn suggest, strongly that the man return to his truck. He does. This is the only scene, so far, in which the brothers work together. A, relatively, positive outcome is the result. You receive your first hint of the place in which they will find themselves.
In another of my favorite movies, De De asks Joe the same question.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t… know.”
In the context of Joe Versus the Volcano, the question is clearly allegorical and existential as well. Joe‘s soul is being destroyed by his repetitive, do-nothing job as a marketing assistant for a medical supply company. His spiritual journey requires him to attempt his own suicide before he conquers his fear of death and overcomes his lack of love for life. Joe meets the same girl three times over, but is only able to connect with the one who is willing to help him conquer his fear of death. I always felt that the point of meeting the same girl three times before falling in love was that falling in love does not have much to do with the other individual, but more to do with your own state of mind. In any event, he finds his spiritual peace in the context of his near-death and remains pessimistic, but with Patricia (the third incarnation of the same woman) by his side, he has positivity that contradicts, yet accepts and loves his character.
So, I ask you… and I often ask myself…
“What’s wrong with you?”
I don’t have an answer, yet, but I think its a very important question.
This is … something like … the post I wanted to make almost a month ago.
In the last few months, I have read several books dealing with the end of lengthy relationships. I read one entitled Too Good to Leave, Too Bad to Stay. I’d say that it was much better than the other book I found. More on that below. This book is framed as a series of questions designed to allow you to honestly assess the current (or immediately passed) status of the relationship and, on that basis, to make an intelligent decision on whether to stay or to go. It was practical, to-the-point and useful for a grieving individual. I found it insightful and well-organized. It was not amazing, but it was certainly somewhat comforting in terms of shedding light on the decision-making proces.
The second book was There Goes the Bride. Yes, I know this book is designed specifically for a “bride.” It’s quite obvious, actually. However, there just aren’t books dedicated to the male persuasion out there dealing with this issue. So, I figured I’d go with it and just change all the “he” to “she” and vice versa. It didn’t work. Though, the primary focus of the book seems to be designed for a want-to-be liberated woman who’s having issues coming to grips with the end of the relationship. There was very little actual advice and a great deal more brooding and thinking about what happened. The author was not even committed to the “idea” of marriage when she became engaged. All-in-all it seemed like some sort of post-modern free form therapy for the author, more than any type of useful text for someone going through the same situation… Though, 90% of the book was the statements and thoughts by other women regarding their own relationships. Perhaps that is just the point and just the reason it didn’t work well for me. Guys want answers, women want to commiserate with others and feel accepted. I didn’t want to commiserate, I wanted results. The popularity of this book can’t really be questioned. It even has an extensive website, from which I gather the author culled the majority of the comments in the book.
I read/skimmed several other books that tended to deal with divorce and how to cope. I thought this a sadly-similar situation to my own. Many of these books suggest that the emotions of divorce are basically like the emotions of the death of a close loved one. You go from close intimacy with this person to an extremely large void in your life. It is hard to figure out what to do in that void and the only thing that seems to fill the void is that person. Obviously, in a death, you can’t fill that void with the person, they simply don’t exist anymore. In a relationship, you know and completely understand all the reasons you are no longer together. However, in a relationship you, theoretically, could return to that person to fill the void. Just because the person is comfortable and available doesn’t mean that they’re right for you. You did leave (or were left or whatever) for a reason. But in the overwhelming shadow of the void that the person left, it sometimes becomes difficult to remember why you chose the void over the person.
In my own thoughts and ruminations on this issue, I’ve come to two conclusions. First, this person can’t be replaced in your heart. They never will–that’s not the point. In fact, you must seek out those who understand the void left and the joy felt in living with and loving that person. That process is only a part, and in my case a large part, of what makes you you. Without those years spent sharing my life with someone, I would never be the person that I’ve become. It would be wrong for any person to wish that you’d “just forget” or to “stop talking about” another person who was such a part of someone’s life. C.S. Lewis even spoke of how his remaining friends failed to fill a void left by the death of one of his close friends. He also spoke of how certain friends, together, brought out parts of one another that the other friends simply could not. Much as anyone ever tries (or doesn’t try, but just is there for you) they can never replace another person. They can only love the person that resulted as a part of everything that’s made a person into the person that they love.
Second, I’ve learned that its a matter of waiting on hope. This is the real thought I had a while ago, but chose not to express until now. At the end of a relationship all the hopes and aspirations for that relationship fall to pieces. Its like, at least for me, I’d spent so much time building up and fostering an internal vision of what it “would be like” and “what we’d be doing” in the future–always a joint future. You spend that time building up those mental images and plans, together. Suddenly, those plans, images, thoughts, dreams, hopes are all gone. All that’s left is you. Your hope becomes despair (though, Kirkegaard would disagree). You spend the next part of your life waiting on that despair to turn back into hope again. If you really think back to yourself before the most recent relationship, that is all there was, hope. You hoped to find someone, you hoped to build a life together, you hoped to support one another in all that you both did. Eventually, over time, that hope became reality in many ways. With that reality gone and hope in the distant past, you are now (I am now) waiting on hope. I’m waiting on that joyous anticipation to return to me so that I, naturally, feel as though the next excitement is “just around the bend.”
There’s a balance there too. It is not terribly clear whether that hope must appear before you’re ready to seriously consider dating another person or whether the prospect of another person helps that hope to grow. I’ve never understood the “I’m not ready, yet” types of people. However, those people realize that there’s some mending of fences that needs to occur in one’s heart before you’re really ready to hope and to vest that hope in another person again. I don’t know the magic of my own heart, but I know it will come and does come. I’ve been here before. The best you can do is to realize that you love and lose and learn from every failed relationship just as much as the one that finally works. You learn about yourself, you learn about life and you learn how to better love another person. All that prepares you for living a life in love with another…in hope.
Just know… “The opposite of sin is not virtue, but faith.”
