Just Enough Shame To Wear Clothes

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Song for a Crappy Tuesday

Tuesday looks across the table at you.

"You know what?" He says, "This meatloaf is really dry."

Your fork drops with a clang onto the plate and you stare at the crumbling ground beef.

"You just COULDN'T let it go, could you? We were doing really well and then- bam- you had to complain about SOMETHING. Jesus."

You knock your chair back from the dinner table, swipe up your plate and head to the kitchen. The house is silent, except the slow, labored chewing of Tuesday in the other room.

Neither of you is the good guy here. And that's worse than the dry meatloaf.

I was grocery shopping the other day when this song came over the speakers. It's pretty rare, anymore, to rediscover a song you love. Everything is so at-our-fingertips, that the happy accidents come fewer and farther between.

"You're the One" by the Vogues is one of those pre-Woodstock gems of doo-whop that gets lost in the shuffle. What a happy, unapologetic song. It starts out with this sweet lullaby verse and then breaks into an exuberant belt - like she just walked into the room and there's no containing himself.

The video is pretty funny, too. You have the Vogues, with no media savvy, paired with all the go-go dancers in back. I sort of long for the days when none of us were so aware of the cameras.

Monday, January 4, 2010

FAIL.

New Year's resolutions are a curse.

I know why we do it to ourselves. The sense of rebirth into a new year gives us a clean start. The sins of the previous year are washed away by the snowy river of January. We make lists of our change and talk them over at Holiday parties:

Next year, I'm making it to the gym four times a week.
Starting in 2010, I am cutting out caffeine, enTIREly.
I gunna get organized.
Debt free by 2011!

These are all worthy resolutions. The goal to change anything for the better is worthy.

The thing I discovered in 2009, is that any self improvement takes time. I used to make sweeping declarations about my New Year's Resolutions - I will study French for one hour a day! I will read 165 books! But then by February, these resolutions would be tucked away. I'd start out strong, but fumble around week 3. It's that fumble that would stop me from continuing.

I wasn't taking into account the Whole. Sure, I might succeed in transforming one area of my life, but the other areas (habits, schedule, need for time out) will fall by the way side if not supported, and those things will get in the way of larger change I want to make.

A while back I made a colossal alteration in the course of my life. It was terrifying, but necessary. Now that I finally feel more at home in my new skin, there are some other areas left untouched that are in dire need of attention.

Last year, I made this resolution:

1. See more of the world (near and far) and do the best I can to enjoy myself while I'm here.

I did just that. I traveled more for pleasure. Took a class or two, ran a 5k, ate rabbit, tried wines, danced at a swing club, saw the Duchamp Bicycle wheel, rode my bike around Chicago in the middle of the night, saw the sun come up over the lake...and that doesn't even cover a 10th of it.

It was a good year.

I want to keep that going so this year I have two resolutions:

1. See more of the world (near and far), do the best I can to enjoy myself while I'm here, and work on building a future that allows me the freedom to continue.

2. Not to give up if I fail at the change right away. I have to try again.

There are a few things (organizing time, money, fear) that trip me up. I'd rather spend my time planning, organizing, and acting on new habits than fretting in a frantic sea of lost money, time, friendships. I want to pay attention.

I'll probably fumble by the end of January...

If I do, so be it. I'll remake my resolutions at the beginning of February and keep going.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Future.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Song for a Crappy Tuesday

It's four o'clock in the morning. The sun has not risen and the city is in it's most quiet hour. Your dreams pulse from one image to the next, recycling conversations from days before, when, without warning, your body lurches up and your eyes spring wide.

What was that? What is your imagination, or did someone knock on your door?

knockknockknockknockknock.

Someone knocked.

Your brain tries to clear out the underbrush of sleep as you creep out of bed. You don't know anyone in your building, who would be knocking at this hour? The raps come again, this time with more force.

knockknockknockknockknock.

"Who is it?" you call, with a sudden clarity in order give the impression that you are, in fact, fully awake and lucid.

The muted answer comes back, "Open the door, please."

You stand in your socked feet, staring at the door. A pin spot of yellow light shines through the peep hole.

The knock comes again: knockknockkno-

"OKAY. I'm coming..." You pad over the stacks of "take care of later" papers and unread books on the floor. There is a pile of laundry in the corner that never seems to go away.

You press your hand to the doorknob and hold onto it for just a second. You think to look out the peep hole, but something in you still wants to be surprised. You turn the knob and crack the door.

Standing before you is a young man who looks something like a Bible salesman (or, at least, what you imagine one would look like, never having actually seen one first hand.). He smiles at you and says "Hello. Come with me."

Your head is still struggling to the shoreline of consciousness. "Beg pardon?"

"I said, 'Hello. Come with me.'"

"Yeah-yes. I got that part. How come? Is everything okay? Or, wait...first, who are you? Do I know you?"

The young man nods his head and smiles. "The name's Before New Year's. Tuesday Before New Year's. You can call me Tuesday. Some people want to call me Mr. Before New Year's, but I think that's too many words."

Your eyes glaze for a second.

"So, come on." He beckons you towards the stairs.

You do know this guy. You're going to go with him no matter what. You can sit behind the door, but you know he will keep knocking. You have no choice but to go with him.

"Should I put on some clothes - er, do I need anything?"

"No. Just let's go."

A wave of clean exhilaration over takes you. You don't need anything, but just go.

It occurs to you that perhaps you are still sleeping in your bed - that this is just a product of your brain steeping in the tropical steam heat in your bedroom. Either way, you follow Mr. Before New Year's down the stairwell and leave last year behind.

I love the time between Christmas Day and New Year's Day. Whether or not we want to, we are compelled to look back over the year and make plans for the future. At the same time we are avalanched by Year End Round-ups and Top Ten Lists. (Ends of the Decade are the mother load. Not only are you offered a Year in Review, but you get a glimpse back at the past ten. 10 years ago, I had just closed a show about the End of Days called Apocalypse, and was furiously writing to finish my adaptation of Wise Blood by Flannery O'Connor.)

According to my iTunes play counts on a month by month basis, 2009 was a pretty random year. Below is my official Top Twelve List. Here are the songs I added to my library, month by month, and with the highest play counts. In some instances, I offer an explanation. In other...judge me if you will - I bet you have some pretty handsome musical skeletons in your library as well.

(To be fair, some of these with astronomically high play counts would be classified as "Running Music" or "Show Music". In other cases, who am I kidding? I love Justin Timberlake and Lady Gaga.)

1. Sober, P!ink (Added 1/24/09, played 42 times) I think I had a wound only Pink could salve.