Little of this...Little of that...then some other stuff too
Got Ray LaMontagne cooing on the turntable, that's right, I said turntable ( I did say "cooing" too...sorry). If you thought Ray sounded like sunshine on bare skin before, you should hear the fella on vinyl. It's incredible. Let's be clear right up front, I'm not some closet vinyl aficionado, the kind who is often heard at parties spouting off drunken rants about how much better vinyl sounds that digital etc... glorious boring etc...Vinyl isn't necessarily better sounding (listen to "I wanna be sedated" on vinyl and then dare to say it sounds richer on the turntable. You'd sound like you needed speech therapy) and it most certainly isn't "cooler," it is however a great way to play the several hundred albums that you own & it's also a pretty nifty flash back to an almost ancient adolescence. People that tell you otherwise better be quality musicians with quality ears or they're full of Marmaduke poop.
I got into an annoying conversation backstage at The Troubadour in LA with Jason Collett about the "rich textures and tones" of vinyl and how it just kicked digital's ass (which is why it was a largely discarded technology in the first place, right Jason?) and that particular conversation ended with an artificial sincerity unmatched up to that point in my life. Vinyl is fun, and admittedly, at times golden sounding and syrupy rich and tasty with just the right tunes. Ray LaMontagne sounds great on vinyl, The Who's "Sparks" sounds great on vinyl. KISS' "I was made for loving you," sounds just like KISS' "I was made for loving you" regardless of vinyl, digital, or if it's hummed by a tone deaf eskimo with a speech impediment. Anyway, we're waaaaaaaaayoff track. An important discussion, I think, but off far off the beaten track.
The end of a long beautiful day full of smiling babies, naps, and family visits. I think I am liking this day smushed between Valentines Day and Family Day (American translation=Presidents Day...neither Upper or Lower Canada gave two #$%&s about George "wooden chompers" Washington). It feels like I remember every Sunday feeling when I was eight years old...easy.
It's just Debu and I now...both June and Zo have slipped off to bed and it's time to reflect on things -- random things.
I think that Paul Simon's American Tune is heart squeezing & beautiful. I listen to it and I realize that things have always been difficult and confusing. Sam Cooke's A change is gonna come nocks me flat as well. There is no such thing as better days, only days.
The pinnacle of proud must rest in a grandmother somewhere.
Friendship is a strange thing & I don't understand it. I should stop trying to, at least until I master it myself.
The saddest part of all this living and eventual dying is that the people you love change. The ironic part is that they say the exact same thing.
I think Zoey looks more grown up now and of course she actually is so that makes less sense on paper than thru my own astonished eyes.
All of the things that I used to think were important aren't. It didn't take having a child to feel that way, it just took time.
I'm a lucky man, and referring to myself as a "man" still feels awkward and strange.
We got a package in the mail from two friends of mine from college, a book for Zo, and the enormity of the kindness and thoughtfulness of such a simple gesture struck me with the most sincere gratitude I've felt in a long time, not because they were generous enough to send along a gift but because people like Kevin & Aimee are out there.
The Grateful Dead's "Friend of the Devil," from Dead Set eases my mind...almost instantly.
Tonight I watched my Mom glow little Zo in her arms. Shortly after, I watched June's father staring and smiling as his wife burned just as bright and I felt a wave of emotion drift past. Those moments felt exactly the way I imagined all of this was supposed to feel.
My Dad and brother are quickly becming best friends and I like my courtside seats for this one.
I need Spring and some sun dappled adventures with June.
Don't think twice, it's alright...some things are too genius to ignore.
Tonight, sheltered inside away from the cold my life feels obscenely and unfairly blessed.
Doing this, purging myself of just some of the things drifting about inside my head, has always felt good. Paper and pen, a keyboard, whatever the tools, I'd have fallen apart without the enterprise. Some people build things out of wood or metal...The words I feel lucky enough to use weigh significantly less, but maybe not.
It's time to go to bed. I see the freighters way out in the lake waiting for captains to take them down the river and I wonder who might still awake aboard those monsters. I wonder who could actually be sleeping aboard those hulking vessels? It's a different place in every direction you look even when it seems the same. There's not two miles separating us and I'm going to crawl inside a warm bed with my warm wife and smile myself to sleep.