if it's no, then I can go
time for a fucking update
Billy Bragg was truly amazing. Very charming and full of road stories and history (want an introduction to the Magna Carta? Go see a Billy Bragg show). I also got to see it with Nate which was very very good.
My birthday was better than I anticipated. I did my laundry and caught happy hour with Rachel and then met some folks from work at the bar across the street from my house. There I proceeded to get shit-faced, something I've been meaning to do since everything went all haywire around here. Some people pray, some people see a therapist. I go the cliche route and drown all my grief, my anxieties in a substance that surely kills more brain cells than television ever did. As long as I receive temporary memory loss for the next five or so hours, I'm a happy camper. Still, it was lots of fun hanging out with everyone. I did my absolute favorite thing: play the jukebox. Amy put in the first couple of songs and then I went ape-shit. They even convinced me to put in my 5 dollar bill (that equals 18 songs!) and I did, of course. I played the Replacements, MC5, Queens of the Stone Age, Nick Cave... bands you would never EVER think to hear in a bar (unless it's one of those fancy computer type jukeboxes where you really can play anything - for a price). The jukebox at Grumpy's is stocked by a kindly gentleman (Vince) who owns a fabulous record shop a handful of blocks from my stupid little apartment.
The song I played the most, though, was the only song I really wanted to hear that night period and Vince was kind enough to slip the band in. I decided recently that I wanted to hear "Thirteen" by Big Star as many times as I could play it in a bar. My birthday wish really did come true, I guess. "Thirteen" is quiet and gentle and Alex Chilton sounds so lonely underneath that soft blanket of acoustic guitar and la-las of background vocals. What is he lonely for?, I've wondered. For me, the song illustrates innocence. Thirteen is that symbolic age of growth and change, tasting what the world has to offer and losing your innocence in the process (but I'm almost certain people lose their innocence at different ages). Maybe for Alex, but certainly for me, this song reminds me of earlier times. Were these times better? It's hard to say, but they must have been because why else would I feel so nostalgic for them?
When me and my mom had a garage sale two years ago, I had a terrible time selling my sister's things. She was in the hospital then, but let us know what things she wanted us to sell. It was mostly old clothes, but she had some books and some toys and it killed me knowing that these things didn't mean anything to her anymore. Her innocence was long gone and she was ready to grow up, but I'm not sure I was ready to let her. She was my connection to a place that I could no longer exist in and when she left, I was locked out forever. And now I worry that the world has made her bitter and angry, so much that she sometimes forgets about the joy and love that used to surround her (and still does, she just can't see it sometimes). I wish I had a way to help her remember that there was happiness.
Anyways, that song sort of connects it all for me.
23 seems to fit me better than any age I've known so far. I feel it. It's like wintergreen in the back of my throat.
I saw V for Vendetta. Not sure how to feel about it yet, but it closed with "Street Fighting Man" and featured Cat Power and Antony and the Johnsons. Shit yeah.
Billy Bragg was truly amazing. Very charming and full of road stories and history (want an introduction to the Magna Carta? Go see a Billy Bragg show). I also got to see it with Nate which was very very good.
My birthday was better than I anticipated. I did my laundry and caught happy hour with Rachel and then met some folks from work at the bar across the street from my house. There I proceeded to get shit-faced, something I've been meaning to do since everything went all haywire around here. Some people pray, some people see a therapist. I go the cliche route and drown all my grief, my anxieties in a substance that surely kills more brain cells than television ever did. As long as I receive temporary memory loss for the next five or so hours, I'm a happy camper. Still, it was lots of fun hanging out with everyone. I did my absolute favorite thing: play the jukebox. Amy put in the first couple of songs and then I went ape-shit. They even convinced me to put in my 5 dollar bill (that equals 18 songs!) and I did, of course. I played the Replacements, MC5, Queens of the Stone Age, Nick Cave... bands you would never EVER think to hear in a bar (unless it's one of those fancy computer type jukeboxes where you really can play anything - for a price). The jukebox at Grumpy's is stocked by a kindly gentleman (Vince) who owns a fabulous record shop a handful of blocks from my stupid little apartment.
The song I played the most, though, was the only song I really wanted to hear that night period and Vince was kind enough to slip the band in. I decided recently that I wanted to hear "Thirteen" by Big Star as many times as I could play it in a bar. My birthday wish really did come true, I guess. "Thirteen" is quiet and gentle and Alex Chilton sounds so lonely underneath that soft blanket of acoustic guitar and la-las of background vocals. What is he lonely for?, I've wondered. For me, the song illustrates innocence. Thirteen is that symbolic age of growth and change, tasting what the world has to offer and losing your innocence in the process (but I'm almost certain people lose their innocence at different ages). Maybe for Alex, but certainly for me, this song reminds me of earlier times. Were these times better? It's hard to say, but they must have been because why else would I feel so nostalgic for them?
When me and my mom had a garage sale two years ago, I had a terrible time selling my sister's things. She was in the hospital then, but let us know what things she wanted us to sell. It was mostly old clothes, but she had some books and some toys and it killed me knowing that these things didn't mean anything to her anymore. Her innocence was long gone and she was ready to grow up, but I'm not sure I was ready to let her. She was my connection to a place that I could no longer exist in and when she left, I was locked out forever. And now I worry that the world has made her bitter and angry, so much that she sometimes forgets about the joy and love that used to surround her (and still does, she just can't see it sometimes). I wish I had a way to help her remember that there was happiness.
Anyways, that song sort of connects it all for me.
23 seems to fit me better than any age I've known so far. I feel it. It's like wintergreen in the back of my throat.
I saw V for Vendetta. Not sure how to feel about it yet, but it closed with "Street Fighting Man" and featured Cat Power and Antony and the Johnsons. Shit yeah.