and then he went to the door to answer the "knock-knock-knock." No one was there when he peeked through the poorly named peephole. Perhaps the person or persons calling were short people or circus dwarves. Maybe even hiding in the bushes... He thought for a moment at who would be summoning him at this hour of the day. It was 4:40pm. He knew this because Oprah was on a commercial break and it was too early for the Banana Splits Adventure Hour on Boomerang. He decided to open the door because his curiosity was hungry for something that would obviously be a surprise. It was cold outside, so he slipped on his house slippers to match his not-so-warm robe. No one was there, but a cheap looking portable CD player awaited him on his porch. There, on the rickety planks, with just a little bit of moisture covering it because it had started misting to make an already cold afternoon seem much colder. Next to it was a 3x5 card that read in red capital letters, "Forward to Hummingbirds. Press Play. I dare you to play #8." Was this a joke or an early Christmas present three days before Thanksgiving? He stood there wondering what to do... He decided to pick up the anonymous gift. He took it inside and stared at the electronic device as he put it on his cluttered coffee table. Right on top of a picked over National Geographic magazine with Stonehenge on the cover. After 3 or 4 minutes, he pressed "Play" and sat back on his cozy couch........................................... Rumor has it that the first sentence of his article was, "I'm making plans to be with you."
12/02/08 (usatsfh)
Friday, February 6, 2009
From a thief you should learn...
1. to work at night
2. if one cannot gain it in one night to try again the next night
3. to love one's co-workers just as thieves love each other
4. to be willing to risk one's life even for a little thing
5. not to attach too much value to things even though you've risked your life for them just as a thief will resell a stolen article for a fraction of its worth
6. to withstand all kinds of beatings and tortures but to remain what you are
7. to believe that your work is worthwhile and not be willing to change it
2. if one cannot gain it in one night to try again the next night
3. to love one's co-workers just as thieves love each other
4. to be willing to risk one's life even for a little thing
5. not to attach too much value to things even though you've risked your life for them just as a thief will resell a stolen article for a fraction of its worth
6. to withstand all kinds of beatings and tortures but to remain what you are
7. to believe that your work is worthwhile and not be willing to change it
Thursday, February 5, 2009
69th Year, No. 9
This is arguably one of the most random things that I could possibly write about while listening to "Straight To Hell."
Senior Citizens. A couple of weeks ago, after leaving a certain house in a certain neighborhood, I made an effort to seek out and find a local newspaper that happened to be established in 1939. One stop. One score. I browsed through the tight 20 page small-fry after I parked, but before I made my way to the second floor of the establishment where I would meet up with a few friends, new and old. Something struck me on Page 20. "Senior Center News." Hidden in the back in the last section as if it was an afterthought of some sort or a kind of "well, we better tuck this in there so we can feel good about our publication" effort. At least, this was my first reaction to it... I realize that all publications have announcements of some sort that chart out the happenings and "places-to-be" for our elders, but this particular version struck a chord that would stay with me for a little while. Simply put, I consider the ones that are in the "senior" category and I sometimes wonder what they're up to because I am certain that they sometimes wonder what in the world we're up to at half their age and what possesses us to do the things we do... A weekly itinerary would look like this in this scenario:
> Kaffee Klatch Time
> Games (including bean bag baseball)
> Walk/Exercise
> 42/Crafts/Canasta (suddenly, I feel like I am on another planet...)
> Sewing Projects
> 42/Quilting/Van Trip/Canasta (a trip? in a van?)
> Dine-Out Luncheon
All times, of course, being scattered throughout the day or week from 8am to 2pm or something, but bean bag baseball has the curious starting time of 12:15pm on Fridays only... Surveying this list of events said a few things to me... 1) I suppose that these kinds of things are 100% necessary to ensure that our beloved elders have places to be with things to do if they choose so; 2) I do not want to grow old; 3) Do I need to learn 42 before I hit a certain age?; 4) Why does it have to be a van? Why not a 1967 GTO?; and 5) I am truly afraid of growing old, but I welcome "some" of the choices and possiblities it could bring...
I mean... I am not sure that I will be able to make a clear point, but I know where my heart is on these kinds of things... My parents are senior citizens and I am sure that one day the thought of playing canasta with possible strangers turned friends could be a nice distraction from growing older... When I see them, I understand the dynamic of where they have been and where they are going and I love them more for all of it... My point being... I get the sentiment around schedules like this and I totally get the idea that some people need that interaction with others and everyone likes to belong somewhere. No exceptions. Everyone wants a voice. Everyone wants to be heard even if it has to be in the middle of a mad round of bean bag baseball. I respect the idea of a Senior Center and I tip my hat to the organizing crew who puts it all together... It's a nice sign of faith that someone is looking out for our moms, dads, grandparents, uncles, aunts and the ones without the ones to call when they just want or need to say something... It all makes sense and people need options. I will want options when that time comes just like you will... At least, I think I will...
In the end, I guess that getting a little press in the back of any publication is good press. Every town does it differently and when I hit "that" timeframe in life, I will probably welcome these kinds of things as options... I don't want them to be my only options, however.
I will say this... Just glancing at the schedule makes me think about the last time I bumped into an older gent at the grocery store or the last time I saw an obvious grandchild holding onto her grandmother's hand as they strolled through the museum. And it also reminded me of a time when I was inside The National Gallery in D.C. gazing at a painting alongside an older dude who was studying his life all over again inside the painting that I had just discovered as something that I would want to share with everyone... I wonder what he is up to 7+ years later... I'll never forget the intent in his forehead. Odd, I know, but this is on my mind. All because of something I saw on Page 20.
Respect the old. Consider them... Always.
- bsm*
Senior Citizens. A couple of weeks ago, after leaving a certain house in a certain neighborhood, I made an effort to seek out and find a local newspaper that happened to be established in 1939. One stop. One score. I browsed through the tight 20 page small-fry after I parked, but before I made my way to the second floor of the establishment where I would meet up with a few friends, new and old. Something struck me on Page 20. "Senior Center News." Hidden in the back in the last section as if it was an afterthought of some sort or a kind of "well, we better tuck this in there so we can feel good about our publication" effort. At least, this was my first reaction to it... I realize that all publications have announcements of some sort that chart out the happenings and "places-to-be" for our elders, but this particular version struck a chord that would stay with me for a little while. Simply put, I consider the ones that are in the "senior" category and I sometimes wonder what they're up to because I am certain that they sometimes wonder what in the world we're up to at half their age and what possesses us to do the things we do... A weekly itinerary would look like this in this scenario:
> Kaffee Klatch Time
> Games (including bean bag baseball)
> Walk/Exercise
> 42/Crafts/Canasta (suddenly, I feel like I am on another planet...)
> Sewing Projects
> 42/Quilting/Van Trip/Canasta (a trip? in a van?)
> Dine-Out Luncheon
All times, of course, being scattered throughout the day or week from 8am to 2pm or something, but bean bag baseball has the curious starting time of 12:15pm on Fridays only... Surveying this list of events said a few things to me... 1) I suppose that these kinds of things are 100% necessary to ensure that our beloved elders have places to be with things to do if they choose so; 2) I do not want to grow old; 3) Do I need to learn 42 before I hit a certain age?; 4) Why does it have to be a van? Why not a 1967 GTO?; and 5) I am truly afraid of growing old, but I welcome "some" of the choices and possiblities it could bring...
I mean... I am not sure that I will be able to make a clear point, but I know where my heart is on these kinds of things... My parents are senior citizens and I am sure that one day the thought of playing canasta with possible strangers turned friends could be a nice distraction from growing older... When I see them, I understand the dynamic of where they have been and where they are going and I love them more for all of it... My point being... I get the sentiment around schedules like this and I totally get the idea that some people need that interaction with others and everyone likes to belong somewhere. No exceptions. Everyone wants a voice. Everyone wants to be heard even if it has to be in the middle of a mad round of bean bag baseball. I respect the idea of a Senior Center and I tip my hat to the organizing crew who puts it all together... It's a nice sign of faith that someone is looking out for our moms, dads, grandparents, uncles, aunts and the ones without the ones to call when they just want or need to say something... It all makes sense and people need options. I will want options when that time comes just like you will... At least, I think I will...
In the end, I guess that getting a little press in the back of any publication is good press. Every town does it differently and when I hit "that" timeframe in life, I will probably welcome these kinds of things as options... I don't want them to be my only options, however.
I will say this... Just glancing at the schedule makes me think about the last time I bumped into an older gent at the grocery store or the last time I saw an obvious grandchild holding onto her grandmother's hand as they strolled through the museum. And it also reminded me of a time when I was inside The National Gallery in D.C. gazing at a painting alongside an older dude who was studying his life all over again inside the painting that I had just discovered as something that I would want to share with everyone... I wonder what he is up to 7+ years later... I'll never forget the intent in his forehead. Odd, I know, but this is on my mind. All because of something I saw on Page 20.
Respect the old. Consider them... Always.
- bsm*
Monday, February 2, 2009
Sigur Ros, before I forget...
*** This is a little something that I wrote to myself last year. Early October. It was something that I had to write about... I appreciate music and I appreciate live music even more. Just had to be done, I guess... Of note, this particular piece has been edited down because I always thought it was too long. And I felt that... Well, it's mine and who cares what I do with my concert reviews... It's for me. Moving forward, if you have ever heard of Sigur Ros, then reading something like this will not surprise you as many, many, many people write about the experience of seeing them in concert, so I figured I would join the crowd. So, before I forget, here is my take... ***
This was my third time to see this curious band from Iceland. Sigur Ros or "Victory Rose." I first experienced them on April 2nd, 2003 at the Granada on Greenville Avenue in Dallas as they toured behind their apocalyptic two-sided release, ( ). Yes, it is this band that could only name an album with parentheses signaling nothing... I then witnessed something incredibly intense on February 27th, 2006 as they wrapped up their North American jaunt, a mere 15 minutes from my beloved hometown of Benbrook, at the Bass Hall in Ft. Worth. This time, "Takk..." was the release that they toured behind. Two venues that could not have been further apart in look, sound and space. Even the crowds separated themselves from one another... I remember saying to myself, "Sigur Ros, velvet seats, marble floors, last show of tour, how appropriate." Two equally mesmerizing shows that would tattoo my world forever for different reasons I would only share with no more than 3, maybe 5 deserving people.
This time, it was "Með Suð í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust" that they would tour behind. I love the translation... "with a buzz in our ears we play endlessly." Playful, yet honest. I love it. This should be a stocking stuffer for every person who uses their soul more than their heart this holiday season.
So on this windy, crisp Colorado night, I found myself in the red-dirt covered Northern Parking Lot on top of the very important amphitheater that I would soon enter for the first time. I have been enamored by this sacred (to me) venue ever since I saw Bono hold his white flag on the fuzzy "Sunday Bloody Sunday" video from "Under a Blood Red Sky" that MTV would rotate when MTV was worth watching... I think that the channel had something to do with music then... I was young. For many, many, many years, I would hope and pray that I would find myself at Red Rocks. On this one Saturday, my wish came true.
After spending an hour or so frolicking in the parking lot and enjoying good craft beers with friends and scoring a spicy chicken sandwich at the Red Rocks Grill inside the museum that I could have spent 2 hours in, we made our way to our seats. Stone-wooden-bleacher-like seats that kept me at a bird's eye view of the somewhat vacant stage. To my left and right were the spectacular sandstone monoliths, "Creation Rock" and "Ship Rock," both standing taller than Niagara Falls. A geologist's dream... I found it somewhat overwhelming that I was sitting inside of a structure that was popular during the Jurassic period.
The temperature was dropping and it probably bottomed out at 48 degrees with a slight wind that would only harm the ones with shorts on... I was just right. It was perfect. I was close to the stars and I even secretly reached up just to say that I reached up at the stars just to remind myself how small I really am... Downtown Denver was a few pea-sized lights away from my vantage point. Just awesome... Dale's Pale Ale would be my poison tonight. Hoppy. Yummy. Perfect.
Parachutes opened... A 45 minute set which was nice, but a bit sleepy for this antsy crowd... Definitely enjoyable. Soft and soothing, really. English speaking, too. The band consisted of no more than 8 members all playing their parts. The guy playing the horns was exceptional. The girl's voice was nice. It just made me that more anxious to see Sigur Ros. A nice appetizer, however.
The sheer beauty of being inside the nation's most gorgeous and natural amphitheater was amazing... When I saw them last, they had a 4 person strings section that helped them out with some of the depth that only violins and cellos can provide... On this special night, it was just the 4 band members and an assortment of instruments including the sweet penny whistle. As if they were telling the crowd that they didn't need 4 or 6 extras on stage with them to perform their music. It was them in the rawest state. Their CDs are layered with all sorts of atmospheric touches as horns and strings have been known to dominate some of their songs. It is all so hard to explain, but these guys cannot be compared to anything, but Explosions In The Sky comes to mind, but even that may be a stretch... Sigur Ros will make you see Heaven and they will make you feel like... If the world ended at any second, you'd be okay because you left the world listening to this band. The drummer is a heavyweight in the world of thunderstorms and the singer, Jonsi, does things people shouldn't be able to do with a violin bow which he uses as his guitar pick. The pianist is part alien and part Beethoven. The bassist is just cool, donning the bowtie and bowler/derby lid. He even played one song with a drumstick as his bass pick. Unstoppable, really.
The entire night was moving, uplifting and heartbreaking all at the same time. They weaved in and out of songs and even teased us with a full amphitheater sing-a-long during "Með Blóðnasir" that had me upright with watery eyes filled with joy and amazement chanting like a schoolboy singing his first Christmas carol. Incidentally, my classroom debut in Mrs. Breedlove's 3rd grade music class was "Can You Hear What I Hear." I played the triangle with Craig Carnley. As I type now, I have goose bumps running up and down my left arm just thinking about this special audience chant. I remember wiping a couple of salty tears from my eyes during this incredible moment. The first in a string of many...
I will never be able to do Sigur Ros justice because describing their music is almost impossible. It's like falling stars telling each other bedtime stories while watching God weep onto the Earth. It's the sound of angels being woken up for the first time to fly away and protect the unprotected... It's the sense of snow falling into a stream where only the birds can make out the designs in the water. I can't say enough and when I finish typing the last letter of this piece, I am certain that I will think of another way to capture their beauty.
A Sigur Ros show is worth remembering and cherishing... Like them or dislike them, they are impossible to forget... Like remembering your first kiss, good or bad. She wasted my time. I'll never forget that moment. On this chilly September night, Sigur Ros did not waste my time. I'll never forget that moment.
Honestly, I am just thankful that music like this exists... For the ones who care enough to explore new avenues in what music can create inside and outside of the mind. Thank you, Sigur Ros. Thank you for visiting...
Sigur Ros, September 27th, 2008 at Red Rocks Amphitheater near Morrison, CO
01 Heysátan
02 Fljótavík
03 All Alright
04 Njósnavélin (Untitled #4)
05 Ný Batterí
06 Við Spilum Endalaust
07 Hoppípolla
08 Með Blóðnasir
09 Inní Mér Syngur Vitleysingur
10 Festival
11 Dauðalagið
12 Sæglópur
13 Hafsól
14 Gobbledigook
-----------------------------------
15 Illgresi
16 Popplagið (Untitled #8)
bsm*
This was my third time to see this curious band from Iceland. Sigur Ros or "Victory Rose." I first experienced them on April 2nd, 2003 at the Granada on Greenville Avenue in Dallas as they toured behind their apocalyptic two-sided release, ( ). Yes, it is this band that could only name an album with parentheses signaling nothing... I then witnessed something incredibly intense on February 27th, 2006 as they wrapped up their North American jaunt, a mere 15 minutes from my beloved hometown of Benbrook, at the Bass Hall in Ft. Worth. This time, "Takk..." was the release that they toured behind. Two venues that could not have been further apart in look, sound and space. Even the crowds separated themselves from one another... I remember saying to myself, "Sigur Ros, velvet seats, marble floors, last show of tour, how appropriate." Two equally mesmerizing shows that would tattoo my world forever for different reasons I would only share with no more than 3, maybe 5 deserving people.
This time, it was "Með Suð í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust" that they would tour behind. I love the translation... "with a buzz in our ears we play endlessly." Playful, yet honest. I love it. This should be a stocking stuffer for every person who uses their soul more than their heart this holiday season.
So on this windy, crisp Colorado night, I found myself in the red-dirt covered Northern Parking Lot on top of the very important amphitheater that I would soon enter for the first time. I have been enamored by this sacred (to me) venue ever since I saw Bono hold his white flag on the fuzzy "Sunday Bloody Sunday" video from "Under a Blood Red Sky" that MTV would rotate when MTV was worth watching... I think that the channel had something to do with music then... I was young. For many, many, many years, I would hope and pray that I would find myself at Red Rocks. On this one Saturday, my wish came true.
After spending an hour or so frolicking in the parking lot and enjoying good craft beers with friends and scoring a spicy chicken sandwich at the Red Rocks Grill inside the museum that I could have spent 2 hours in, we made our way to our seats. Stone-wooden-bleacher-like seats that kept me at a bird's eye view of the somewhat vacant stage. To my left and right were the spectacular sandstone monoliths, "Creation Rock" and "Ship Rock," both standing taller than Niagara Falls. A geologist's dream... I found it somewhat overwhelming that I was sitting inside of a structure that was popular during the Jurassic period.
The temperature was dropping and it probably bottomed out at 48 degrees with a slight wind that would only harm the ones with shorts on... I was just right. It was perfect. I was close to the stars and I even secretly reached up just to say that I reached up at the stars just to remind myself how small I really am... Downtown Denver was a few pea-sized lights away from my vantage point. Just awesome... Dale's Pale Ale would be my poison tonight. Hoppy. Yummy. Perfect.
Parachutes opened... A 45 minute set which was nice, but a bit sleepy for this antsy crowd... Definitely enjoyable. Soft and soothing, really. English speaking, too. The band consisted of no more than 8 members all playing their parts. The guy playing the horns was exceptional. The girl's voice was nice. It just made me that more anxious to see Sigur Ros. A nice appetizer, however.
The sheer beauty of being inside the nation's most gorgeous and natural amphitheater was amazing... When I saw them last, they had a 4 person strings section that helped them out with some of the depth that only violins and cellos can provide... On this special night, it was just the 4 band members and an assortment of instruments including the sweet penny whistle. As if they were telling the crowd that they didn't need 4 or 6 extras on stage with them to perform their music. It was them in the rawest state. Their CDs are layered with all sorts of atmospheric touches as horns and strings have been known to dominate some of their songs. It is all so hard to explain, but these guys cannot be compared to anything, but Explosions In The Sky comes to mind, but even that may be a stretch... Sigur Ros will make you see Heaven and they will make you feel like... If the world ended at any second, you'd be okay because you left the world listening to this band. The drummer is a heavyweight in the world of thunderstorms and the singer, Jonsi, does things people shouldn't be able to do with a violin bow which he uses as his guitar pick. The pianist is part alien and part Beethoven. The bassist is just cool, donning the bowtie and bowler/derby lid. He even played one song with a drumstick as his bass pick. Unstoppable, really.
The entire night was moving, uplifting and heartbreaking all at the same time. They weaved in and out of songs and even teased us with a full amphitheater sing-a-long during "Með Blóðnasir" that had me upright with watery eyes filled with joy and amazement chanting like a schoolboy singing his first Christmas carol. Incidentally, my classroom debut in Mrs. Breedlove's 3rd grade music class was "Can You Hear What I Hear." I played the triangle with Craig Carnley. As I type now, I have goose bumps running up and down my left arm just thinking about this special audience chant. I remember wiping a couple of salty tears from my eyes during this incredible moment. The first in a string of many...
I will never be able to do Sigur Ros justice because describing their music is almost impossible. It's like falling stars telling each other bedtime stories while watching God weep onto the Earth. It's the sound of angels being woken up for the first time to fly away and protect the unprotected... It's the sense of snow falling into a stream where only the birds can make out the designs in the water. I can't say enough and when I finish typing the last letter of this piece, I am certain that I will think of another way to capture their beauty.
A Sigur Ros show is worth remembering and cherishing... Like them or dislike them, they are impossible to forget... Like remembering your first kiss, good or bad. She wasted my time. I'll never forget that moment. On this chilly September night, Sigur Ros did not waste my time. I'll never forget that moment.
Honestly, I am just thankful that music like this exists... For the ones who care enough to explore new avenues in what music can create inside and outside of the mind. Thank you, Sigur Ros. Thank you for visiting...
Sigur Ros, September 27th, 2008 at Red Rocks Amphitheater near Morrison, CO
01 Heysátan
02 Fljótavík
03 All Alright
04 Njósnavélin (Untitled #4)
05 Ný Batterí
06 Við Spilum Endalaust
07 Hoppípolla
08 Með Blóðnasir
09 Inní Mér Syngur Vitleysingur
10 Festival
11 Dauðalagið
12 Sæglópur
13 Hafsól
14 Gobbledigook
-----------------------------------
15 Illgresi
16 Popplagið (Untitled #8)
bsm*
She left with one acorn in her purse...
So, I suppose that this blogging idea that I have heard so much about can be somewhat gratifying... I suppose it's an outlet for displaying any and everything about one's life and it seems like a great way to share these things with people. People you know. People you don't...
I started this thing with the idea of throwing out some of the action happening in my brain past and present. Like all people, I, too, have swirling symphonies bogging my brain down and it seemed like the right thing to do and it finally feels right. Finally. For reasons unknown, but it does feel right. I took the advice from at least two people and started "On My Sleeve."
What to say, what to do... This is a personal challenge for me and a it's a little bit of a prize to myself. Whoever takes the time to peek into this blog may come out of it with something or nothing... Choices. I'd like to thank you, in advance, for intruding as I welcome this idea for this purpose.
I feel like I have things to say and I feel like I am running out of time to say these things... Ever feel like there is not enough time? That there's always tomorrow? These questions play into the idea of On My Sleeve. I'm sure I will elaborate on these things in another post on another day.
It's Monday and the Pittsburgh Steelers won the Super Bowl yesterday. More importantly, hours before this NFL clash, Liverpool defeated Chelsea. The Reds sit second from the top of the table at 51 points. Not a bad way to start February...
bsm*
I started this thing with the idea of throwing out some of the action happening in my brain past and present. Like all people, I, too, have swirling symphonies bogging my brain down and it seemed like the right thing to do and it finally feels right. Finally. For reasons unknown, but it does feel right. I took the advice from at least two people and started "On My Sleeve."
What to say, what to do... This is a personal challenge for me and a it's a little bit of a prize to myself. Whoever takes the time to peek into this blog may come out of it with something or nothing... Choices. I'd like to thank you, in advance, for intruding as I welcome this idea for this purpose.
I feel like I have things to say and I feel like I am running out of time to say these things... Ever feel like there is not enough time? That there's always tomorrow? These questions play into the idea of On My Sleeve. I'm sure I will elaborate on these things in another post on another day.
It's Monday and the Pittsburgh Steelers won the Super Bowl yesterday. More importantly, hours before this NFL clash, Liverpool defeated Chelsea. The Reds sit second from the top of the table at 51 points. Not a bad way to start February...
bsm*
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