Some Things Considered
So it has been a busy time. Travelling for two months with a small (or not so small) seven month old baby can be a rather trying experience. One must maintain a healthy sense of humor for sure. A five hour plane ride, with endless turbulence and the inability to walk/soothe him was well, challenging. One can only make so many funny faces.
Nevertheless, we are now settled (sort of) in the countryside of Ontario, Canada enjoying the woods. And the skunks. And the Mennonites passing by the house with horse and buggy. In the meantime, my home south of the border is awash in economic chaos, and what may well be (or at least seem to be) the most important presidential election of my life thus far. As family is coming over for dinner momentarily, I don't have much time to write about last night's debate, or the dire importance of all that is happening, but instead just wanted to point you dear reader in the direction of NPR tonight. Christian Kiefer, J. Matthew Gerken, and I will be on All Things Considered talking about Of Great and Mortal Men, hopefully sounding like we have something to say. And intelligent. And articulate. A link to the NPR story in the event that you missed it here.
How odd to find yourself on NPR after all these years making music, incapable of driving around in your car or sitting at your kitchen table listening. Instead, I sit here at my wife's desk, looking at the clutter of moving and blank walls, tinny voices coming from the computer speakers.
If interested, you may buy copies directly from the label here, from Amazon here, or a digital download from itunes (with a digital copy of the book) here, and now or in the very near future from your local independent record store.
Record Release
At long last, Of Great and Mortal Men: 43 Songs for 43 U.S. Presidencies is finally out. We spent the better part of last week doing a handful of interviews and gearing up for the cd release show which has come and gone. I am quite stunned by both the book (the three cds come with a 106 page book) and the music that we all made. I cannot remember the exact number but there are over fifty different musicians (including Bill Callahan from Smog, Alan Sparhawk from Low, Jamie Stewart from Xiu Xiu, Rosie Thomas, Tom Carter from Charalambides, Califone, Denison Witmer, and many more) on the project and nearly as many artists. Because of this I am able to step back from the work, and view it almost as if I had nothing to do with it, which allows me to enjoy it quite a bit more.
As we drift into fall and the election grows ever closer, I will continue to post things here about the project for your curious selves. Yesterday we did an interview on KXPR the local NPR affiliate in Sacramento. If you missed it, you can listen to the archive here.
You will notice that we were interviewed right after two proton exploding scientists (UC Davis Physicists) about the Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland. We told the interviewer that he had to somehow make us sound more intelligent than those guys. What an act to follow.
You readers may buy copies directly from the label here, from Amazon here, or a digital download from itunes (with a digital copy of the book) here, and now or in the very near future from your local independent record store.
Ps.
To any of the artists or musicians who participated in this project reading this post: My apologies that you've not yet received your copy. The distributor reports that these are "flying off the shelf," and that the second printing has begun. When we get our copies, you will get yours. A good thing this is.
Presidents and more presidents
Traveling with an infant is different from traveling without an infant. Challenging for sure, though beautiful in the way that it makes one reassess their priorities, especially the idea of having a plan. There are no plans anymore. We have been on the road for some time now, having finally settled in the blazing sun of California (for now). Living in the east for over two years, one forgets just how hot 108 is. Hot. Way too hot.
Amidst all of this running around, I have been busy with various projects, not the least of which is this collection of songs about the American presidents. The book and accompanying cd's arrived this week, and I dare say that I am terribly pleased and excited about the forthcoming official release, which falls on September 9th. It really is quite beautiful, due to the work of many.
Through all of this rather timely business, I spent many hours the last few weeks watching the political conventions. I shouldn't even begin with how frustrating it is to watch these spectacles of money, these overpriced commercials, but suffice it to say I found both quite bothersome. Of course, I could hardly watch (though I did) the Republicans, as I so vehemently disagree with their policies.
We've been doing a bunch of interviews for this project, and I have repeatedly been asked who I think will "win" in November. A question that I'm afraid I cannot answer with much confidence or certainty. I would like to think that the American public are disillusioned enough by the Bush administration that they might actually make a sensible decision, but I'm afraid I just lack faith. I keep oscillating back and forth, but after McCain's speech (and his selection of Palin) I find myself again in that fearful place that he just may win. While I found Palin's speech to be immature, pedantic, and absurdly sentimental, I thought McCain's speech was quite good. I don't agree with him on much of anything (anything?) but I fear that many people sitting atop that proverbial fence, will have been quite roused by his heroic, macho words, however misguided they may be. While his too long, too patriotic, too calmly self assured rally cry did not appeal to me, I'm sure many were near to tears or shouting. What are we to do? Perhaps I should leave it at that for now. Some links below to new press.
Sacramento News and Review
Sacramento News and Review part II
Nuvo
Sacramento Bee
Washington Times
Riverfront Times
Blog Critics
Off
Jose did not shine a light. As a matter of fact this last book of his was really quite dark, and only helped me to feel more hopeless about the current state of the world. But then I read The Magic of Blood by Dagoberto Gilb, stories quite similar to Ray Carver in their humanity, simplicity, and humor, and the made me feel somehow right again. Or at least cognizant of something resembling levity.
I currently feel afloat in my own fictional world as we are moving tomorrow. Funny how the term moving applies to one day, as we are always moving. In this case, it seems as though we have been in the process of moving for some time now. It feels fictional as I consider the oscillations of the last two years here in Troy. I will not list for I still have much to do. I love moving though, for I find such possibility buzzing around these new turns.
For now, the crickets rub beneath my open window. Teenagers giggle and cough, their sandals whacking the pavement. The neighbor upstairs high-heels down the steps and out the door. Where will the night take her? Her dog cries. I sit on the only remaining piece of furniture, a mattress on the floor. My son is asleep on his back, his left hand resting on his belly. He gives me an incredible hope for this world. I imagine I am simply overcome by his innocence, but there is something truly profound about watching your baby sleep.
On another note, I just discovered that my new record, though to be released on September 9th, is available for pre-order if anyone feels so inclined. Or impatient. Or excited. Click here.
And again I am up. The kitchen awaits.
Seeing
I am now reading "Seeing" by Jose Saramago. He has become one of my favorite writers in the last few years, though not without effort. His work is in some way reminiscent of Kafka, which I both love and do not love. Perhaps everyone has such a relationship with Kafka. I am currently on page 94 (keep in mind 94 pages of Saramago is like 175? of another author, as he uses very little punctuation) and he has yet to really introduce a character. I have not yet read a name. But I love him nevertheless. My favorite of his thus far is most likely "The Cave," though followed closely by "The Stone Raft," "The Double," and "Blindness," all wonderful in their respective ways.
A review at the front of this one says it quite well I think:
"reading Saramago requires dedication, not unlike reading James Joyce or Marcel Proust. But as with Joyce and Proust, Saramago readers are rewarded at the end with a new way of looking at things, of finding the extraordinary within the ordinary world." ~ The Baltimore Sun
In reading this book I cannot help but consider the similarities with the current state of American politics (read: jingoism), as the book is an absurd tale about the unraveling of democracy.
Then I read the following piece in Adbusters this morning, which echoes some of my thoughts about our current state quite well. (borrowed from Adbusters issue 79) Where do we find hope amidst such a grim situation? Maybe Saramago will shine some light for me.
Those who Refuse to Cross the Line
As a cyclist, I have come to identify (though grossly generalized) many types of distinct drivers, or passers if you will. While these are only guesses, brimming to overflowing with assumptions, I think them nonetheless. Yesterday, seemed to be the day of “drivers who refuse to cross the line.” I’m not sure about this one as I’ve never spoken to one of these folks about the matter, but I swear this is what must be in their minds. No cars coming in the other direction, broken glass in my path which I drift out (as little as possible) to avoid, and they explode past me, a mere six? inches from my left arm, tires safely inside the line.
As I have had so many people yell at me over the years, “get off the fuckin’ road,” I cannot help but think these folks have some sort of self imposed bylaw, wherein they refuse to cross over into the other lane, on the sheer principle that they feel the road is theirs and I do not belong there. Therefore they think, "I'm NOT crossing into the other lane."
I’m not sure how one feels this is logical in any way. I have over the years, considered trying to do more about bicycle awareness and advocacy which sometimes seems impossible. Why do they yell at me? Why do they call me “faggot?” Why do they pass so dangerously close? Why do they honk? And you assholes that have leaned out of your trucks and hit me or thrown something at me over the years, your karma is doomed. I just don’t understand.
Sure, I can conjure a wide array of reasons for their anger at my being on the road, but in the end I always just find myself thinking, “but I’m on a bike…if you hit me you may kill me.” Arghhh. So frustrating.
To make matters worse, the truck (really, really, big truck) that passed me WAY too close yesterday, had a bumper sticker that read: “I support gun control: use two hands when shooting liberals.” Why is it that so many conservatives on the right, foster such vitriol for those on the left? As much as I find myself saddened and disgusted by much of what the right (especially the extreme right) believes, I certainly don’t want to shoot them. While I know the bumper sticker is a joke, I just don’t find it humorous. It is precisely this thinking on their part, this way in which one perceives those different from them, that causes the problems in the first place.
Last week I saw another that read: “I wish Hillary married O.J.” Aside from just being stupid in my mind, I have such a hard time understanding how one would think this way, with such disdain for those who share different opinions. What the hell is wrong with people?
I just want to ride my bike, and all I can say is please, please, please, give me more room on the road. Please.
Secrets
I am currently reading Secrets of the Talking Jaguar by Martin Prechtel, which has been on my list for many years. I first discovered him in The Sun Magazine and was fascinated by his story. The short version is that he grew up on a Pueblo Indian Reservation and set off to explore the world at the age of nineteen or so. He eventually landed in Guatemala after a year of wandering, and made his way to a Mayan Village where he became a shaman and lived for thirteen years. This story is just amazing.
I'm almost done with the book, and it coincides with my begging a new film which I will keep under wraps for a bit longer. That said, the two are connected in some way (maybe many ways) so i include a quote I came across today:
"True creativity doesn't just make things; it feeds what feeds life. In modern culture where people are no longer initiated, the spirit goes unfed. To be seen, the uninitiated create insane things, some destructive to life, to feel visible and powerful. These creations are touted as the real world. They are actually forms of untutored grief signaling a longing for the true reality of village togetherness. The result of this uninitiated approach to life is violence, spiritual and otherwise, where the hoarding of wealth, the soul-curdling banality of popular television, and the creation of weapons of mass destruction are all accepted and considered status quo."
