Isabella's 4th birthday bash at Big Wheel! What a time warp, man. I was transported back a few times to the Jackson rink and even found myself recounting tales from those days, all the parties and fights and great 80's music. I learned all the lyrics to Snow's Informer in skates. That's quite a feat.
And I think skates were worn about 27% of the time
About a week ago Rob passed away, quite unexpectedly, and today we'll drive up to Vermont to celebrate him, his life, and the affect he had on what I can only assume is many, many folks.
Boston 1998-1999 was our heyday, short but effective, I remember lots of music, guitar practice, dancing, and mostly love. I seriously can't remember ever thinking poorly about Rob. He was always just a good time, a fresh of breath air, and constant happiness. I haven't seen Rob since 2007 but we did stay in contact. Mostly thru the internet and mostly trading music cuts back and forth. I listened to his radio program on Brattleboro radio from time to time, where he would play way too much Wilco and dared to air 8 minute guitar experimentation by Nels Cline without leaving the booth for a bathroom break. It took me back to that cramped little apartment in Lynn and listening The Bends and Aphex Twin. We would plan out a show that would later become one of my proudest achievements. I never said thank you for that.
Rob had a reputation for being a 'free spirit', whom some would give a negative connotation, but the Rob we knew was the Rob who would randomly post beautiful little notes amongst all of our silly comments on reality television or photos of our food...
"Remember always that you are just a visitor here, a traveler
passing through. your stay is but short and the moment of your departure
unknown. None can live without toil and a craft that provides your
needs is a blessing indeed. But if you toil without rest, fatigue and
wearness will overtake you, and you will denied the joy that comes from
labour's end. Speak quietly and kindly and be not forward with either
opinions or advice. If you talk much, this will make you deaf to what
others say, and you should know that there are few so wise that they
cannot learn from others. Be near when help is needed, but far when praise and thanks are being offered. Take
small account of might, wealth and fame, for they soon pass and are
forgotten. Instead, nurture love within you and and strive to be a
friend to all. Truly, compassion is a balm for many wounds. Treasure silence when you find it, and while being mindful of your duties, set time aside, to be alone with yourself. Cast off pretense and self-deception and see yourself as you really are. Despite
all appearances, no one is really evil. They are led astray by
ignorance. If you ponder this truth always you will offer more light,
rather then blame and condemnation. You, no less than all beings have
Buddha Nature within. Your essential Mind is pure. Therefore, when
defilements cause you to stumble and fall, let not remose nor dark
foreboding cast you down. Be of good cheer and with this understanding,
summon strength and walk on. Faith is like a lamp and wisdom makes
the flame burn bright. Carry this lamp always and in good time the
darkness will yield and you will abide in the Light."
That was the Rob we knew. Today he brings us all together one more time...
We haven't actually sat thru a movie in I don't know how long. Over Labor Day weekend we sat thru three! Mainly because those Redbox burn a searing hole thru Laura's brain if they sit on the DVD player for too long.
Sunday night was Young Adult starring Charlize Theron, yet again, uglying herself up to play someone who is not the most beautiful lifeform on the planet.
Good, ultimately, but depressing. Patton Oswalt became essential possibly for the first time in his career, and the addition of 90's college rock radio hits made for a semi-pleasant flashback and reminder of how glad I am that I don't really listen to that stuff anymore. Kudos for the party-freakout and completing the meltdown into no real resolution. Three frowny faces.
After that we were looking for something a little more uplifting and just so happened to stumble upon the 60's cult hit documentary, The Endless Summer.
I remember watching this film years ago as a backdrop to some early hipster getogether in a Williamsburg loft in the late 90's portion of my life. I was 21 and that point in my life it was a statement on what lie ahead of me, the possibility of a grand adventure that's just waiting for me to grab it by the horns and ride it into my own African sunset. Watching it in 2012 as a husband, father and domesticated citizen it's simply a reminder of that stupid party.
Monday night was The Descendents, another utterly morbid film about a George Clooney who finds out his wife, who is in a coma, had been cheating on him with a soon-to-be wealthy land owner of his very own making.
The phrase "well this just got interesting" was uttered more than a few times, but the overlying theme of death and life support lingered greatly making it kind of hard to enjoy the subtle tone of semi-wackiness the film seemed to be taking a stab at. Plus it's hard to believe anyone cheated on a George Clooney especially with the lanky Scream dude. Laura cried.
Today I stumbled across a 'best of 1995' music list I made, probably shortly after 1995. I must've wanted to remind my older self. Funny thing is, some of it is still my favorite stuff and albums I've carried over into the iTunes generation. Anyhow, I took a leisurely stroll down memory lane and thought I'd should try and remind my even older self not to overlook the classics. That's right, the 90's had some classics. And go...
I didn't exactly wake up excited about today. Glad to go down to see my parents, but not to sift thru rubble for a potential gem. I knew there was a couple hidden treasures. I don't know if I found them all. Don't know that I ever will. That became abundantly clear today, now that a clock is ticking. Now it's about balancing sentimental value with available space. I would've bagged a whole lot more today but I chose to snap the photo and leave it be. Like this horse. It reminded me of being 6 in Toms River and for some reason I thought my sister tried to sell it to some neighborhood youths, but now that I think about, I think we are the ones who bought it at a yardsale, I remember riding him down the street. I think he was 75 cents. We used to brush his hair.
I remember sometime back in my early residency in the deep south I was cognizant enough to pick up a couple tickets to the GY!BE show at the Variety Playhouse. It was their first foray into touring the US (they're very Canadian) and I had been into them since I lived in Boston. I remember one especially wintry night up North (slept with the window open still) I was excited to pop in "He Has Left Us Alone but Shafts of Light Sometimes Grace the Corner of Our Rooms", a recent pickup from Newbury Comics in a weird cardboard case with sparkling red printing, as I turn out the lights and went to bed only to 60 seconds into the opening track being thoroughly freaked out and almost throwing the disc out the 3rd floor window. It would be awhile before I tried it again, but it would be in the light of day for sure.
Storm, Part 2
They're on tour for the first time in almost a decade and of course, all six of the shows near me (Terminal 5, two at the Brooklyn Masonic Temple, two at the Church of St. Paul The Apostle and one at the Trocadero) are all sold out and have been for sometime. So it seems that for now I'll have to live off the memory of my night at the Variety. This was the night that I drank my first (7) PBR's and I memorized the design of the tiles on the ceiling of the theater. It was a good night. I should've bought a t-shirt.
I once stood in a triangle of conversation with Bradford Cox & Dave Longstreth at the Eyedrum in Atlanta amongst a questionable art installation. One of my finer moments.
Eric you can be jealous.
Sorry about all this music today. It's been a good sounding morning.
At a show. Second to last. Listened to Youngblood BB all the way down to Old Bridge. Reminds me of when I lived in Georgia and worked in that factory near Cumberland assembling vending machines for GA Dome. Not sure why.
Outta here in less than two hours, picking her up in Budd Lake and home to baby. Should sleep well tonight. Got to. Hope grandma & pa have been holding the fort down Last I heard they were halfway to Scranton. Good Indian food up there.
I had a revelation this morning. My revelation was that I did not grow up in my hometown. Silly me, all these years I thought I grew up in Jackson NJ just to find out this morning that I must've been somewhere else the whole time.
The reason for all this confusion is that I was confronted in the early hours by a page on facebook entitled "You know you're from Jackson, NJ when.....". I've seen a lot of this going on here and there and thought "oh how fun, who doesn't like a little morning plight wallowing". So I found myself sifting thru the numerous listed things that let's a person, may they not be sure, that they are indeed from Jackson.
It started off alright...
Six flags is 5 minutes away but its more of a hassle than a convenience
A cool place to hang out on Friday night was the roller rink
You have to go to other towns to actually go to stores
You know backwoods trails to get anywhere
You know that to see the Great adventure safari for free, you take Reed road
You know you are from Jackson when the cigarette infested Mug Rack was a great place for breakfast
I can relate to all those things. But then I read on.
The confederate flag is seen more than the American flag
You know you're from Jackson when you drank 40's in the woods at Camp Joy
Where the road Wright Debow is notorious and everyone knows whats up when you say it
When you vandelize the hockey rink for peeing on it...
All kids are either drug addicts or alcoholics. Everyone smokes weed, including your mom
Heavens to Betsy! I sure don't remember seeing any confederate flags until I moved to Georgia. Must've been the other side of town. I played soccer at Camp Joy and enjoyed water & orange slices but the moms in charge of refreshments that weekend never brought any 40's. I have no idea what significant turn of events occurred on Wright Debow Road. I don't think that is how you spell the word "vandelize" and I've never been to any hockey rink. And if that last one is true.... Mom... do you have something to tell us?
What sealed the decision that I am not from here was the final line on the page. And it was in all caps so...
JACKSON NJ: WHERE HICKS AND WANNA BE GANGSTAS COME TOGETHER!
Well I'll be. I must say. Either I spent way too much time in my basement bedroom listening to Siamese Dream or I was completely stoned the whole time because I have never met anything even remotely resembling a hick or a gangsta within 100 miles of the place, and trust me I know one when I see one.
That's redundant