Twenty Years

Nirvana's album Nevermind is 20 years old this year.  It's difficult for me to attempt to put into worlds how NECESSARY Nirvana was to the world. 

The year was 1991 and this young lad had just graduated from high school.  I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Fortunately, I was smart enough to know that I should probably go to college.  But even that decision was a disillusioned and directionless one. I knew I couldn't stay in Huntley - 1991 was the year my journey began.  And Nirvana provided the soundtrack.

From a historical perspective, Nirvana can be put upon the shelf with the likes of The Beatles.  In a world swamped with Talk Dirty To Me and Dr. Feelgood, "grunge" music snuck in our collective back doors and had sex with our girlfriends.  Grunge grabbed our acne faces and slapped the Whitesnake right out of them.  Thank God for Kurt Cobain (and all the other lesser Seattle-based grunge bands who motivated and inspired him).

Strangely, it was morbidly fitting that he died young.  I was very angry at Kurt for killing himself. I felt like he abandoned a entire movement of disillusioned youths taking their first steps on journeys that would mold them and form them and make them legendary.  Or so we hoped. 

I also pitied Kurt because we now know he was in a lot of physical pain. A pain only drugs and suicide could quell.  Also, I'm not so sure Kurt wanted to be a leader of a generation.  It landed in his lap and he wasn't given a choice.

Regardless, Nevermind changed the landscape of music and most likely saved a lot of lives.

   

Skinny Dipping to Work

Bracing for the heat wave. Like it matters. There we are sitting on the train sweating through our monkey suits and some prick has the nerve to warn me about the looming heat wave.   

I could really go for a swim. 

Music Appreciation: Dum Dum Girls

Pop

Bought some Cherry Coke yesterday.  Tastes like seeing Rambo: First Blood Part 2 in a movie theater in Crystal Lake, Illinois. Shortly after seeing the movie I bought a Rambo poster.  On the poster, Rambo has his bow pulled back with the explosive arrow tip in the foreground. Boom. Fat kid bedroom.

Rambo, which replaced Indiana Jones, was later replaced with Robert Smith. Boys Don't Cry.

Omens

Last I dreamed I was a cop chasing a bad guy down a dark alley and I accidentally shot my partner in the foot.  As far as interpretations go is this a good sign, or a REALLY good sign?

All Star Break

Yesterday the elderly, female security guard at work stopped me to talk about baseball.  She favors the Phillies and erased all doubt in my mind that she wouldn't be able to stop a wild maniac from entering our workspace.

Tiny Bees Clung to Us

like hats in a high wind, though
there was no wind and the border
lay only a mile or two ahead.
Cross it and be free, we thought,
holding each other a last time
before dashing out, heedless of patrols
scouring the hills for we who were hated,
we who believed.
And because of our belief, perhaps, the bees
were soft and stingless
all through that day, warming us, whispering
of secret ways, humming a tune we followed
like a path.
And later, what a night it was! Loving
in a roofless ruin, starlight
falling over us like music we had never heard,
like joy's lanterns, diamond bees
spending themselves as we were spent, lighting up
the dark hives over which we knew God
bent as though happy
or blind.

By Christopher Howell

Hump?

Adventure Time

The opening and then me on ukulele.  As you see it ain't hard.  Three chords. Boom. Fist pump. BTW, we totes watched this show all weekend because Cartoon Network ran two marathons and that makes us awesome.

Music Appreciation: Washed Out

This is actually a fan-made video, but lovely nonetheless . . .

Why U2 is Awesome

Why U2 was, is, and always will be one of the greatest bands that ever was.  The story via Buzzfeed: A blind guy held a sign up at a Nashville U2 concert that read "Blind guitar player. Bring me up" and Bono did.  The the guy got to play his wedding song, All I Want is You, and keep the guitar.  Amazing.

Last Night

I saw a rare Suicide Squeeze play last night. Michael Morse was on third base and started running for home plate on the faith that Laynce Nix would successfully lay down a bunt thereby stealing home.  It worked.  The Nationals won.  I also ate a chili dog and some Cracker Jacks.

Nats Park

The chili dog from Ben's Chili Bowl was a bad choice.

Nats Game Tonight

I'm going to the Nationals game tonight.  My first visit to the new Nationals Park which I hear is beautiful.  And also, the Cubs are in town.

It'll be a symbolic night for me because I have chosen to wear the same hat I've worn all summer:  My red curly W hat.  Any other year prior to this one I would've been sporting the old blue C hat with all the rest of the transplanted Chicagoans.  Not anymore.

The only thing I haven't decided yet is what catchy insults I'll use when harassing the sad Cub fans! (Years of pent up frustration as a Cub fan should result in some gems!)

Wildebeest

SoulPancake asks:    How are you connected to the universe?

Obviously, we're all connected to the universe in similar ways, so I guess the question should be How do you perceive yourself connected to the universe?  Religious people will say something about God, scientists will say something about molecules and atoms, hippies will say something about weed.  Wait, what was the question again? 

Here's another question: Does is matter if we are aware of our connectedness to the universe?  I say no.  In fact, I'll go one step further and say knowing how we are connected might be detrimental to the connection.  Nothing kills a relationship faster than knowing you're in a relationship.  "Wait, are we dating now?"

The beauty of our existence is its obliviousness to its inner workings.  If the wildebeest knew the alligators were lurking in the river they'd stop going to the river, in turn eliminating both wildebeests and alligators.  I say ignorance is bliss.  Eat up, boys.

Yawn

This Is What You Shall Do

By Walt Whitman


This is what you shall do; Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.


(From The Writer's Almanac, July 4, 2011)

And then this happened...

Atmospheric flare from a minuteman III ICBM missile from Kanoa on Vimeo.

Ghosts

I'm sitting in my cubicle and the only noise I can hear is the whir of the copier and the fluorescent lights above.  No one is here!  Is there a parade going past our building that I didn't know about?

The Wednesday

While I was out of the office someone left a keychain on my desk that says Aruba.  Question #1: Who went to Aruba?  Question #2: Why did they buy me a souvenir? Question #3: Can I spend a large part of my day investigating this incident?

It's Take Away Wednesday in House Carlock.  Me: Singapore Rice Noodles. Her: Chicken & Broccoli. Us: Crab Rangoon.