First of all, dudes, let me say how pleased with myself I am at the ease with which I use HTML. Or at least that image-posting tag. Professor Lehman back at good 'ol HC (or HU... what a dumb acronym) would be proud. If he only knew I was reading emails and looking at sound equipment for 90% of his class... when I showed up. Too bad college is over; good times, good times.
I bought play-doh with Brian last weekend, because I wanted it and he encourages me in trivialities. I went over to McDavid's house and we played with it and I made a snowman with a dog. My favorite part are the scarves. I brought her a little tubbie of it, too, as a party favor, and she just made oddly-shaped lumps. This is why I like McDavid. Just when I need it, she lets me feel smart.
I'm hanging out in Kinfolks, an establishment on Manitou Ave just above the creek (which I can hear in the darkness due to open windows- ahh). It is incredibly Manitou. There is live music, beer, hiking shoes, outdoor gear, a bicycle repair area, and dogs are definitely allowed. The only non-alcoholic beverage they have available is french-pressed coffee, which I hate, but I am drinking because it is cold outside. It will also keep me awake until a late hour- a good thing at this point in time. I feel like being up late because I DON'T HAVE TO WORK TOMORROW!
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So as to add another review on in this time, I'm going to talk about Ben Folds' most recent album, Songs For Silverman. Man, this man is genius. I love people that get better with time, till they just open their mouths and it's like drops of gilded butter fall out onto the floor in a beautiful tableau. UGH! I just accidentally drank coffee without sugar in it. Bad idea. So this album, this album is the first one I have that is a CD on one side and a DVD on the other. It makes me nervous. I don't mean to be but I am really hard on discs, and I'm sure it's going to get ruined in one way or another. The first track starts off and it's like pre-rubber soul Beatles, and then by the middle of the album it's like the Beach Boys and Chicago got married, and maybe Darren Jesse was the best man at the wedding. There are little chunks of time where I can hear all of the other stuff, from the self-titled Five album to Fear of Pop Vol. 1 to the EPs. And everything in between. His stuff is so melodic and poppy yet well-developed while being understated; it's like a buffet in a lunchbox. It is a CD that needs to be played really loud, and often. The one song that almost makes me cry, not because it is the best song on the album, but because I conjecture it's for Elliot Smith. The song is called "Too Late," and whether it's for Smith or not I don't know, but it's really intimate and says a lot of things the speaker was never able to say to the intended party. I remember being really blown away by the first page that appeared at BenFolds.com for months after Smith's suicide. I like thinking about amazing famous people being good friends in real life. And I think Smith's death was probably hard on Ben; I feel like this song lets me sit in on the living room floor and hear about it. Ok, so I just read the actual words, and it says, "Elliot, man you played a fine guitar/and some dirty basketball" so it's totally about him. It just makes me feel sad and clear and good all at the same time.
This album spans the gamut of styles- country, pop, jazz, rock. Al Yankovic sings BGV's. It is a musician's cd- Ben is a musician's musician. It makes me happy there are sounds like this out there.
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In other news, I feel disconnect from a lot of things, and look out over the realm of disconnectedness and see limitless possibilities. All my life, I have placed other people before myself. Experiences, memories, people make you who you are. Do you ever get to the point where you can venture out and just do crap as a completed person? What happens when you are on a different page of reality from everybody that used to matter to you? People are totally crushing, totally getting engaged and having babies and getting married, and I just want to sit on a floor in a darkened room and listen to the spinning disc. Or wander around and do nothing really but everything, and write about it. I feel less cohesive and more coherent than ever. There are several times a day where I am just looking at things and all of the sudden things shift in my mind, like when you flip the hourglass over, and the sand is the same, but coming through backwards, and a new something or other is visible. It's like I look and it changes, becomes more real, but it just the same to everyone else. I really liked waiting tables today, and it was odd to me. I don't want to get drunk, even though it would be easier sometimes to blur through everything, show up to work high and go on just like everyone else. But this bigger part of me wants to feel everything while it is happening, even if it hurts like a little cut on your hand filled with lemon juice. I know that there are more nerve endings in your lips than anywhere else on your body, and I have never kissed anyone. This is the irony of my life, and I am resigned to go through with utter clarity; for what purpose I don't know. But it seems more right than anything else I can find.
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