(This is a rough excerpt from One Good Year, a book about life, love, and traveling that I'm trying to finish)
It's harder at night to keep a rein on my mind. Lying their in darkness I can almost feel her next to me. Her head resting against my chest, a leg strung across my thigh, as she lay tightly against me. It's the night--the pure and unalterable emptiness of the night--that is the most difficult.
When the sun is up it's not as much of a challenge. Your life is in effect, there is activity, there is work. These distractions can only momentarily be broken—by a day dream or an inquisitive friend. Life takes hold again and you are forced from the lonely thought. In the darkness there is no one to distract you from your own mind. You're forced to bear what weighs on your heart.
I fought against this emptiness. I sought comfort in the companionship of others. I distracted myself to the point of exhaustion trying to avoid any chance of dealing with the devil of the darkness.
The irony is that the more we seek to distract ourselves from something, the more we encounter it. It's an endless struggle, one that is constantly fought. Inevitably this silly battle of distractions will fail and the more fully we'll experience it as a result.
Now my life is spent feeling the emptiness beside me. Often I return home secretly hoping she might be there, another sly surprise like the one so long ago. A flood of happiness overtakes me when I see that she has sent me an email. These little naïve hopes are manageable. Though despairingly embarrassing, they are minor. Just small bumps patiently waiting to be smoothed in time. It's the night—the reality of the longing, the void born from our separation—that seems unmanageable.
Night after night, each evening was traded for morning next to my love. A constancy was created. Now this expected certainty has vanished. My only companion in the darkness are those long ago memories of tender nights.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
The Leisure in Our Days
It occurred to me at some point within the past few weeks how far we as a society have progressed. Though there have undoubtedly been major advancements in a variety of areas,I'm speaking specifically about our survival (when I refer to "our" survival, I'm speaking of the idea of the "first world").
Leisure was a grand contribution of the 19th Century. For the first time, people could forget about merely surviving and expect free time in their daily life. As technology improved, the idea of "leisure" expanded. What was once the exclusive right of the well to do, began to seep into all levels of society.
With this expansion (and continued scientific advancement), the conceptualization of "leisure" began to shift. Leisure time had always been about seeking out entertainment. This goal slowly morphed. With the emergence of personal entertainment, from phonographs down to computers, the onus of entertainment shifted from something sought to something received. Catered enjoyment is the expectation. Life has become nothing more than a series of distractions. Our needs are largely solved so we strive against boredom. Mr. Cobain said it best in his cultural anthem of the early 90s, "here we are now, entertain us."
Leisure was a grand contribution of the 19th Century. For the first time, people could forget about merely surviving and expect free time in their daily life. As technology improved, the idea of "leisure" expanded. What was once the exclusive right of the well to do, began to seep into all levels of society.
With this expansion (and continued scientific advancement), the conceptualization of "leisure" began to shift. Leisure time had always been about seeking out entertainment. This goal slowly morphed. With the emergence of personal entertainment, from phonographs down to computers, the onus of entertainment shifted from something sought to something received. Catered enjoyment is the expectation. Life has become nothing more than a series of distractions. Our needs are largely solved so we strive against boredom. Mr. Cobain said it best in his cultural anthem of the early 90s, "here we are now, entertain us."
Monday, January 19, 2009
The Morning View
There are countless millions of people who wear disposable contact lenses. The guidelines state that you should replace them every two weeks. It seems everyone chooses to forgo the protocol, myself included. And while you are supposed to take them out every night for cleaning, there are some who even eschew this procedure and can go months without cleaning. I'm not in this second group. Even at the height of inebriation I always seem to remember to take out my contacts before bed. As for replacement, I have no set schedule. Tonight, however, was an exception. I tossed away my contacts on purpose. I want a new pair to put in tomorrow morning.
Tomorrow is an important day. I've lived a relatively short life. I have, however, witnessed numerous events that affected the globe in some form. Somehow I remember Kirk Gibson's home run in the 1988 World Series. I remember the bay series earthquake in 1989 and yet have no recollection of the fall of the Berlin Wall. I remember the 1st Gulf War, Clinton's win in 92, the OJ chase, Princess Diana's crash, and the Lewinsky fiasco. As a semi-adult I experienced the elections of 2000 & 2004, the Patriot Act, the invasion of Iraq, and the Red Sox's break the curse. None of these events can compare to January 20th in importance. It is, without a doubt, the second most important event that has occurred during my lifetime. When viewed in terms of possibility or positivity, it has to be the single most important event that has transpired in my short life.
The impact of Obama's election can't be calculated in statistics. It is felt in the emotions of the people. And even though the affect of tomorrow isn't personal for me,per say, it is enormously personal to millions upon millions of others. No matter the politics, January 20th is an event without comparison. A day that surely deserves a new pair of lenses. The world will never look the same.
Tomorrow is an important day. I've lived a relatively short life. I have, however, witnessed numerous events that affected the globe in some form. Somehow I remember Kirk Gibson's home run in the 1988 World Series. I remember the bay series earthquake in 1989 and yet have no recollection of the fall of the Berlin Wall. I remember the 1st Gulf War, Clinton's win in 92, the OJ chase, Princess Diana's crash, and the Lewinsky fiasco. As a semi-adult I experienced the elections of 2000 & 2004, the Patriot Act, the invasion of Iraq, and the Red Sox's break the curse. None of these events can compare to January 20th in importance. It is, without a doubt, the second most important event that has occurred during my lifetime. When viewed in terms of possibility or positivity, it has to be the single most important event that has transpired in my short life.
The impact of Obama's election can't be calculated in statistics. It is felt in the emotions of the people. And even though the affect of tomorrow isn't personal for me,per say, it is enormously personal to millions upon millions of others. No matter the politics, January 20th is an event without comparison. A day that surely deserves a new pair of lenses. The world will never look the same.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Mercurial Goals for the New Year
1-3-09 (it took me awhile to get this up)
Another year is here. One year seems to just blend into the next and the most noticeable effect on my life is how often I have to scratch out "08" and scribble in "09" when I'm writing dates. I'm certain it will take a month before I'm able to correctly write those dates with any regularity.
There are many who disdain the New Year. For instance, a close friend hates the first months of the year because the gym parking lot is always so crowded. The irony of his discontent is palpable.
I've never been quite so negative about the first of the year. Despite this, it's hard for me to be excited about the passing of time. Perhaps I too easily see the morbid reality of the new year. The dire inevitability of our existence.
Putting me at further odds, I've never been much of a New Year's resolution man. It mayn't be the best book by which to live one's life but, at least in a way, I abide by Calvin's system of resolutions. While Calvin's noticeable egotism is on full display throughout the Calvin & Hobbes series, it is truly crystallized in strips dealing with New Year resolutions. In his eyes resolutions are meant for everyone else. Unfortunately, I'm not that self-centered. While Calvin rejects the idea of resolutions for himself, I instead reject the confining structural limits of New Year's resolutions. My own trite outlook, be the change you want to see, is not meant to be dictated by the calendar.
Though he is, like us all, a flawed individual, I've always envied Calvin. Not for his imagination, or his astute feline friend, or even for the adventure he sees in every day life; instead I envy him for his clarity. That's the one truly attractive benefit of living a self-centered life. Everything in the world makes sense when you are at its center (which is of course why most struggle to find it).
So, if I was pressed to provide a resolution for this new year, it would be a simple one. It is of course my deepest desire, the one that forever seems just out of my reach. In 2009, just like the years that came before it, my resolution is finding clarity, the elusive goal for all of humanity.
Another year is here. One year seems to just blend into the next and the most noticeable effect on my life is how often I have to scratch out "08" and scribble in "09" when I'm writing dates. I'm certain it will take a month before I'm able to correctly write those dates with any regularity.
There are many who disdain the New Year. For instance, a close friend hates the first months of the year because the gym parking lot is always so crowded. The irony of his discontent is palpable.
I've never been quite so negative about the first of the year. Despite this, it's hard for me to be excited about the passing of time. Perhaps I too easily see the morbid reality of the new year. The dire inevitability of our existence.
Putting me at further odds, I've never been much of a New Year's resolution man. It mayn't be the best book by which to live one's life but, at least in a way, I abide by Calvin's system of resolutions. While Calvin's noticeable egotism is on full display throughout the Calvin & Hobbes series, it is truly crystallized in strips dealing with New Year resolutions. In his eyes resolutions are meant for everyone else. Unfortunately, I'm not that self-centered. While Calvin rejects the idea of resolutions for himself, I instead reject the confining structural limits of New Year's resolutions. My own trite outlook, be the change you want to see, is not meant to be dictated by the calendar.
Though he is, like us all, a flawed individual, I've always envied Calvin. Not for his imagination, or his astute feline friend, or even for the adventure he sees in every day life; instead I envy him for his clarity. That's the one truly attractive benefit of living a self-centered life. Everything in the world makes sense when you are at its center (which is of course why most struggle to find it).
So, if I was pressed to provide a resolution for this new year, it would be a simple one. It is of course my deepest desire, the one that forever seems just out of my reach. In 2009, just like the years that came before it, my resolution is finding clarity, the elusive goal for all of humanity.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
The Eve's of Our Life
This will be my final post of 2008. The new year sort of snuck up on me. Even when one is unwrapping presents on Christmas morning, that next year still always seems a year away. I suppose it's just in the human mentality to not "count on tomorrow" and "just live for today," as Mr. Shaver sung.
It's always a little mind boggling to look back on a year. In terms of unexpectedness, really on any system of scale, this has been a unique year. Last year I was in a castle on the northwest coast of France. Three days after landing in Paris I was driving three Parisians (none of whom knew how to drive) in a rented Citroen down the A-11 towards Bretagne. Though quite frankly it was a bit awkward in the castle, it was one hell of an experience. When one looks at these sorts of things, perspective is always important. I know a lot of people that haven't even seen a castle much less spent an evening in one.
This year, despite possessing the requisite champagne, I'm far from Bretagne and far from any castles. It seems as if this New Years Eve will be a relatively quiet one, comparatively speaking of course. Given the stature of the "holiday," this seems almost sacrilege to many.
Ironically, only three former New Year's Eve really stick out in my mind over the last eight years. These were all memorable for who they were spent with as much as anything else. That said, distinct events happened in each that makes them stand out. There were the massive fireworks courtesy of H in 2001-2002. Drunken tears and screaming always stand out no matter the night. Then of course 2003-2004 provided no end to drama. Getting left at a house party by my girlfriend, trying to pick a fight with a kid I poured beer on the previous summer, walking home in the rain, and then the requisite happy Hollywood ending with Kash, temporary as it was. 2006-2007 brought the inaugural Roost New Year's Eve party. There wasn't much going on there beyond general Roostness, questionable decisions in search of female companionship, and of course the bad/good? decision to put a roast in a the crock pot at 2AM so it would be ready for consumption when we awoke (These great ideas always seem to end up biting you in the ass, metaphorically speaking of course). All of which brings us back to the castle, which beyond the horrible music granted an unforgettable experience, one I was able to share with someone special.
I saw a lot in this intervening year. I'm not sure I'll ever figure out how I got from France to Fort Smith, from a life of somewhat hedonistic gallivanting to static pragmatism but here I am. Tonight, like much of our existence on this earth, should be a somewhat staid affair. Some dinner at home, some effervescent wine, and a party at a good friend's new Fay Jones designed home. Though we might forget them, it is often the quiet nights with close friends that are most affirming for our spirits.
It's always a little mind boggling to look back on a year. In terms of unexpectedness, really on any system of scale, this has been a unique year. Last year I was in a castle on the northwest coast of France. Three days after landing in Paris I was driving three Parisians (none of whom knew how to drive) in a rented Citroen down the A-11 towards Bretagne. Though quite frankly it was a bit awkward in the castle, it was one hell of an experience. When one looks at these sorts of things, perspective is always important. I know a lot of people that haven't even seen a castle much less spent an evening in one.
This year, despite possessing the requisite champagne, I'm far from Bretagne and far from any castles. It seems as if this New Years Eve will be a relatively quiet one, comparatively speaking of course. Given the stature of the "holiday," this seems almost sacrilege to many.
Ironically, only three former New Year's Eve really stick out in my mind over the last eight years. These were all memorable for who they were spent with as much as anything else. That said, distinct events happened in each that makes them stand out. There were the massive fireworks courtesy of H in 2001-2002. Drunken tears and screaming always stand out no matter the night. Then of course 2003-2004 provided no end to drama. Getting left at a house party by my girlfriend, trying to pick a fight with a kid I poured beer on the previous summer, walking home in the rain, and then the requisite happy Hollywood ending with Kash, temporary as it was. 2006-2007 brought the inaugural Roost New Year's Eve party. There wasn't much going on there beyond general Roostness, questionable decisions in search of female companionship, and of course the bad/good? decision to put a roast in a the crock pot at 2AM so it would be ready for consumption when we awoke (These great ideas always seem to end up biting you in the ass, metaphorically speaking of course). All of which brings us back to the castle, which beyond the horrible music granted an unforgettable experience, one I was able to share with someone special.
I saw a lot in this intervening year. I'm not sure I'll ever figure out how I got from France to Fort Smith, from a life of somewhat hedonistic gallivanting to static pragmatism but here I am. Tonight, like much of our existence on this earth, should be a somewhat staid affair. Some dinner at home, some effervescent wine, and a party at a good friend's new Fay Jones designed home. Though we might forget them, it is often the quiet nights with close friends that are most affirming for our spirits.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Chocolate and Ice
Every year around this time I began to obsessively listen to a small set of "holiday" songs. My use of quotations is perhaps perplexing. Most assume a song is either a Christmas tune or not. Gray areas don't really exist with quotations. Until I first heard My Morning Jacket's 2000 EP, My Morning Jacket Does Xmas Fiasco Style, I saw holiday songs in black and white.
When one speaks of anything regarding taste or personal preference, there is always an attempt to draw a correlation with something else. A comparison is required so one can adequately and descriptively give an idea as to what one might expect (Dick in High Fidelity grants us a classic example of this pursuit: "She's kind of Sheryl Crow-ish crossed with a post-Partridge Family pre-L.A. Law Susan Dey kind of thing, but, you know, uh, black").
Despite my adoration for My Morning Jacket, I've always struggled in my attempts to relate their sound. As luck would have it, I struck on something close to an apt description for the experience of listening to this particular EP. It is reminiscent of a rebellious Gregorian Monk starting an expansive rock band.
Though there are only six songs (including the bonus track), the record clocks in just shy of thirty-five minutes. What sets it apart--and keeps me interested each year--is the edgy nature inherent in the EP. In the opening track, Xmas Curtain, Jim James tells us about reluctant shoplifters and salacious hypocrites--"hey! The Christmas curtain falls on lawbreakers that pave the way for thoughtless folks like me and J who'd pay, but cant afford the finer things in life so we heist them all..."
This catchy (yet ironically bleak in content) tune is followed with I Just Wanted To Say. It's elegantly stark--"I just wanted to say, happy holidays, today. I just wanted to be just a little part of your cheer. There comes a time in everyone's life when everything shines like a star that falls from the sky"
Utilizing their unique vocal talents, the band follows this with something a bit more traditional--Christmas Time Is Here Again--a song extolling the positively regenerative possibilities of the season. Reminding us that--"Christmas Time is here again. All this joy for girls and boys, life was bad but now is good. All is right, I think we should bring out the joy, light up the tree. Though time moves fast it's not too late, it's only Christmas Eve."
Not to get too engrossed in a traditional spirit, the band opts for Nick Cave's New Morning. They adorn this post-apocalyptic proto eutopian song with lightly elegant instrumentation. In their hands it is transformed into a hopeful statement of the possibilities of our own future--"Thank you for giving this bright new morning, so steeped seemed the evening in darkness and blood. Let there be no sadness, no sorrow, Let there be no road too narrow. There'll be a new day, yes it's today, it's forever."
For good measure a cover of Elvis' "Santa Claus is Back in Town" wraps up the EP (though it is technically followed by a hidden track). This is naturally a rocker, with Jim James sounding a bit fuller than on any other track.
I read recently in the WSJ that we become bored with Christmas carols because the novelty has worn off. We know what will come next. The assertion was that a song must "balance predictability with surprise, familiarity with novelty." Irrationally I fear that fate for Fiasco Style. Fingers crossed, I hope to make it through at least one more season with the soaring vocals, teardrop lyrics, and expressive licks of My Morning Jacket Does Xmas Fiasco Style.
When one speaks of anything regarding taste or personal preference, there is always an attempt to draw a correlation with something else. A comparison is required so one can adequately and descriptively give an idea as to what one might expect (Dick in High Fidelity grants us a classic example of this pursuit: "She's kind of Sheryl Crow-ish crossed with a post-Partridge Family pre-L.A. Law Susan Dey kind of thing, but, you know, uh, black").
Despite my adoration for My Morning Jacket, I've always struggled in my attempts to relate their sound. As luck would have it, I struck on something close to an apt description for the experience of listening to this particular EP. It is reminiscent of a rebellious Gregorian Monk starting an expansive rock band.
Though there are only six songs (including the bonus track), the record clocks in just shy of thirty-five minutes. What sets it apart--and keeps me interested each year--is the edgy nature inherent in the EP. In the opening track, Xmas Curtain, Jim James tells us about reluctant shoplifters and salacious hypocrites--"hey! The Christmas curtain falls on lawbreakers that pave the way for thoughtless folks like me and J who'd pay, but cant afford the finer things in life so we heist them all..."
This catchy (yet ironically bleak in content) tune is followed with I Just Wanted To Say. It's elegantly stark--"I just wanted to say, happy holidays, today. I just wanted to be just a little part of your cheer. There comes a time in everyone's life when everything shines like a star that falls from the sky"
Utilizing their unique vocal talents, the band follows this with something a bit more traditional--Christmas Time Is Here Again--a song extolling the positively regenerative possibilities of the season. Reminding us that--"Christmas Time is here again. All this joy for girls and boys, life was bad but now is good. All is right, I think we should bring out the joy, light up the tree. Though time moves fast it's not too late, it's only Christmas Eve."
Not to get too engrossed in a traditional spirit, the band opts for Nick Cave's New Morning. They adorn this post-apocalyptic proto eutopian song with lightly elegant instrumentation. In their hands it is transformed into a hopeful statement of the possibilities of our own future--"Thank you for giving this bright new morning, so steeped seemed the evening in darkness and blood. Let there be no sadness, no sorrow, Let there be no road too narrow. There'll be a new day, yes it's today, it's forever."
For good measure a cover of Elvis' "Santa Claus is Back in Town" wraps up the EP (though it is technically followed by a hidden track). This is naturally a rocker, with Jim James sounding a bit fuller than on any other track.
I read recently in the WSJ that we become bored with Christmas carols because the novelty has worn off. We know what will come next. The assertion was that a song must "balance predictability with surprise, familiarity with novelty." Irrationally I fear that fate for Fiasco Style. Fingers crossed, I hope to make it through at least one more season with the soaring vocals, teardrop lyrics, and expressive licks of My Morning Jacket Does Xmas Fiasco Style.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Youth and Young Manhood
Invariably when one sets out on a household clean up project or redecoration, some remembrance of times past rears its head. Though it perhaps should not be, it is usually an unexpected encounter. We cordon off our lives and expect our past to respect the boundaries. Our expectation is for the past to stand politely in the wings and appear only when expressly conjured.
This is out of practical necessity as much as anything else. What could be accomplished if one was to constantly mope over yesterday? Our mind creates these boundaries for self-survival. I think it is because of this that we are always so surprised at the strength of those innocent emotions that can blindside us at the drop of a hat.
Thus it was recently while I was straightening up my room that I came across a particular picture. It was one I've seen countless times without a second thought. Taken the day of my graduation ceremony at the University of Texas in May, 2005, I am standing in cap and gown with my arm around a dear friend (if it's possible, that might even be an understatement). Smiles on our faces, we stare into the camera. Confidence and security seems to emanate from us both.
It is ironic how innocent this all seems in retrospect. Everything undoubtedly seems to have been easier then. This is a false recollection. Our worries then seem minuscule only because we are privy to their resolution. However, I was struck by the ferocity of the emotions that overtook me--a yearning to live again those years of "youth," a desperate guilt at decisions and indecision, and finally a resigned smirk at the circumstances of the day (getting yelled at by the women in my life for wanting to wear shorts under my gown, realizing that I had "outgrown" the slacks I had, having to rush to Old Navy with Kasia for new pants, and finally, tearing down Red River at 60MPH to get to the ceremony).
People use phrases like a "misspent youth" from time to time. Youth is simply spent. Unfortunately, we spend it in a confused haze of vacillation. It is only upon a second look that we confuse the situation and see it as misspent instead.
This is out of practical necessity as much as anything else. What could be accomplished if one was to constantly mope over yesterday? Our mind creates these boundaries for self-survival. I think it is because of this that we are always so surprised at the strength of those innocent emotions that can blindside us at the drop of a hat.
Thus it was recently while I was straightening up my room that I came across a particular picture. It was one I've seen countless times without a second thought. Taken the day of my graduation ceremony at the University of Texas in May, 2005, I am standing in cap and gown with my arm around a dear friend (if it's possible, that might even be an understatement). Smiles on our faces, we stare into the camera. Confidence and security seems to emanate from us both.
It is ironic how innocent this all seems in retrospect. Everything undoubtedly seems to have been easier then. This is a false recollection. Our worries then seem minuscule only because we are privy to their resolution. However, I was struck by the ferocity of the emotions that overtook me--a yearning to live again those years of "youth," a desperate guilt at decisions and indecision, and finally a resigned smirk at the circumstances of the day (getting yelled at by the women in my life for wanting to wear shorts under my gown, realizing that I had "outgrown" the slacks I had, having to rush to Old Navy with Kasia for new pants, and finally, tearing down Red River at 60MPH to get to the ceremony).
People use phrases like a "misspent youth" from time to time. Youth is simply spent. Unfortunately, we spend it in a confused haze of vacillation. It is only upon a second look that we confuse the situation and see it as misspent instead.
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