A post for late September
It's been awhile since I have written in here, but what else is new?
When I left off, our president had issued a wishy-washy response to racism in Charlottesville, Virginia. In the month since, we have seen a hurricane ravage Texas, another one punish Florida, and yet another hurricane decimate Puerto Rico. An earthquake has done significant damage in Mexico. North Korea and the U.S. continue to escalate the smack talk and posturing, and our Middle Schooler-In-Chief doesn't help himself much with his juvenile name calling and boasting, though his loyal fanbase eats up his hollow tough guy talk. Meanwhile, the rest of us wake up each morning in a perpetual state of unease.
It's such a crazy world we live in that John McCain, with his resistance to the replace and repeal of the ACA ("Obamacare") has emerged as a voice of reason. Who saw that coming?
When I'm not looking at my phone and dreading what I'll see, ("Have the missiles been launched yet?", etc.), I'm trying to keep myself sane by doing what I always do: I'm running, walking, listening to music, trying to watch some decent television here and there, and at least attempting to read honest-to-goodness BOOKS.
I'm still plugging away with the running and trying to stay reasonably fit physically and mentally. I suppose the hip new terminology is "mindfulness" and running helps with this. When I am out running, it's just me vs. the distance. Nothing else matters. It may just be the most basic and primal sort of exercise there is. When I run, my thoughts and worries disappear and it becomes simply me, nature, the road, and getting my body and mind to make it five kilometers. It's not necessarily enjoyable while the run is taking place--some are better and more pleasurable than others--but that is the point. By engaging in a primal and basic activity, I free myself from the baggage of the material world. There is something a bit Zen-like about running. So it is an activity that I continue to engage in. I can see and feel the positive impact it has on me.
As far as music goes, I've been on a Husker Du kick of late, after the unfortunate death of drummer/singer/songwriter Grant Hart. I got into them a little bit in college, when a guy I worked with in the cafeteria did the whole, "Say man, you gotta listen to these guys" thing as he loaned me his cassette copy of the Du's 1986 album Candy Apple Grey. Though The Replacements were my Twin Cities band of choice, I enjoyed Candy Apple Grey quite a bit. But for some time it was the only Husker Du I really knew well. Eventually I would devour their entire discography. I fell in love with their two 1985 albums, New Day Rising and Flip Your Wig. (Although their masterpiece is generally acknowledged to be 1984's Zen Arcade, I have never entirely warmed to that album, though it has some classic tracks on it). Grant Hart was a songwriter certainly on a par with Bob Mould. Grant was sort of a "punk rock McCartney" to "Bob's punk rock Lennon". Grant had a sweeter voice than Bob, and his songs were a bit more melodic and hookier than Bob's. To hear what I'm talking about, give a listen to "Girl Who Lives on Heaven Hill," "Green Eyes," "Flexible Flyer," "Books About UFOs," or "Dead Set on Destruction." It is distorted punky power pop bliss at its finest, with clever lyrics to boot. Grant could be equal parts optimistic, nostalgic and vulnerable. Kurt Cobain and Black Francis, to name a few, owe him a lot.
It is getting late and I want to get this blog post in the can before it gets too late, or I fall asleep, or I accidentally delete it. 'Til we meet again...
When I left off, our president had issued a wishy-washy response to racism in Charlottesville, Virginia. In the month since, we have seen a hurricane ravage Texas, another one punish Florida, and yet another hurricane decimate Puerto Rico. An earthquake has done significant damage in Mexico. North Korea and the U.S. continue to escalate the smack talk and posturing, and our Middle Schooler-In-Chief doesn't help himself much with his juvenile name calling and boasting, though his loyal fanbase eats up his hollow tough guy talk. Meanwhile, the rest of us wake up each morning in a perpetual state of unease.
It's such a crazy world we live in that John McCain, with his resistance to the replace and repeal of the ACA ("Obamacare") has emerged as a voice of reason. Who saw that coming?
When I'm not looking at my phone and dreading what I'll see, ("Have the missiles been launched yet?", etc.), I'm trying to keep myself sane by doing what I always do: I'm running, walking, listening to music, trying to watch some decent television here and there, and at least attempting to read honest-to-goodness BOOKS.
I'm still plugging away with the running and trying to stay reasonably fit physically and mentally. I suppose the hip new terminology is "mindfulness" and running helps with this. When I am out running, it's just me vs. the distance. Nothing else matters. It may just be the most basic and primal sort of exercise there is. When I run, my thoughts and worries disappear and it becomes simply me, nature, the road, and getting my body and mind to make it five kilometers. It's not necessarily enjoyable while the run is taking place--some are better and more pleasurable than others--but that is the point. By engaging in a primal and basic activity, I free myself from the baggage of the material world. There is something a bit Zen-like about running. So it is an activity that I continue to engage in. I can see and feel the positive impact it has on me.
As far as music goes, I've been on a Husker Du kick of late, after the unfortunate death of drummer/singer/songwriter Grant Hart. I got into them a little bit in college, when a guy I worked with in the cafeteria did the whole, "Say man, you gotta listen to these guys" thing as he loaned me his cassette copy of the Du's 1986 album Candy Apple Grey. Though The Replacements were my Twin Cities band of choice, I enjoyed Candy Apple Grey quite a bit. But for some time it was the only Husker Du I really knew well. Eventually I would devour their entire discography. I fell in love with their two 1985 albums, New Day Rising and Flip Your Wig. (Although their masterpiece is generally acknowledged to be 1984's Zen Arcade, I have never entirely warmed to that album, though it has some classic tracks on it). Grant Hart was a songwriter certainly on a par with Bob Mould. Grant was sort of a "punk rock McCartney" to "Bob's punk rock Lennon". Grant had a sweeter voice than Bob, and his songs were a bit more melodic and hookier than Bob's. To hear what I'm talking about, give a listen to "Girl Who Lives on Heaven Hill," "Green Eyes," "Flexible Flyer," "Books About UFOs," or "Dead Set on Destruction." It is distorted punky power pop bliss at its finest, with clever lyrics to boot. Grant could be equal parts optimistic, nostalgic and vulnerable. Kurt Cobain and Black Francis, to name a few, owe him a lot.
It is getting late and I want to get this blog post in the can before it gets too late, or I fall asleep, or I accidentally delete it. 'Til we meet again...
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