Catching up on our stay in Radebeul

I can't quite remember where I left off.

The day after we arrived in Radebeul, we spent the day in Dresden, looking at the scenery and old (and newer) buildings, including a church [Frauenkirche] that was rebuilt after reunification. It had been a pile of rubble following the Dresden bombing of 1945 and the wreckage was a memorial during the GDR era. I will need to edit this post later with the name, which I know but can't recall (and if I try to flip between here and Facebook, I'm afraid I'll lose this post).

On the 23rd, we spent the day decorating the two Christmas trees (one downstairs and one upstairs outside on the balcony) and later that day walked around the old section of Radebeul (with buildings dating back to the 1400s and 1500s).

Christmas Eve we met N's brother and his girlfriend and later enjoyed a dinner of sausage and potato salad. We also unwrapped gifts. (I like the lowkey way that Germans celebrate Christmas. I wish Americans would do the same).

Yesterday was Christmas Day, and it was the first white Christmas in a decade. We spent the day in Moritzburg and walking the grounds of the castle.

This is a bare bones update.

In Radebeul and Dresden

L. and I arrived in Radebeul yesterday morning, which was mid-afternoon Michigan time. I need not tell anyone who has flown to Europe how that throws off your body. I am sure most people are aware of it, but me being someone who took this damned long to travel to Europe, it was tough. 

Older son and his girlfriend N.'s father picked us up at the Dresden airport. We drove to their house, which is in a fairly quiet residential area of Radebeul. It was once farmland during the GDR era, went fallow after reunification, and then was developed into housing in the 1990s and 2000s. It is, I suppose, the German approximation of an American subdivision, but with winding streets and houses right next to each other and much smaller gardens (yards). The houses here have more character, too. They are all two-story and colorfully painted. Germans have the right idea. There seems much more a sense of community here compared to middle-class, suburban America--in which people live in their own bubbles and rarely communicate with neighbors. I feel as if I am gaining insight into why, at least to a certain extent, the U.S. has social problems rarely seen in Europe.

So after we arrived, we ate with the W. family (I just feel as if I should grant others some anonimity in this blog). We then walked through a somewhat open and rural and then woodsy area of Radebeul. People have their own little gardens [kleingartens] and farms with well maintained and dare-I-say "cute" little sheds. It is something we see more now in the U.S., but not quite to this extent.

We also walked through a cemetery [Heidefriedhof] with some World War II memorials, one large one dedicated to the Nazi death camps and German cities decimated by bombing. It was quite a moving experience.

The later the day got, the more fried we felt. After playing a few games of Uno, we went to bed.

Arrival in Frankfurt

Greetings from the Frankfurt Airport. We arrived safely and now just must wait another few hours for our connecting flight to Dresden.

Amazingly and embarrassingly, this is my first ever trip to Europe. It took me far too long. Now that we have a son who has embraced German culture, is attending a German university, and has a German "significant other" with a family who wants to meet us and invite us to their home, we are here. Covid be damned, we are here.

Aside from my Covid immunization card falling in a narrow crevice next to the baggage conveyor belt at the Lufthansa desk (the woman at the desk was able to fish it out), and L's TV screen not working on the flight, it was an uneventful trek from Detroit to Frankfurt. Now I am just feeling groggy, and will likely feel even more fried when we reach Dresden.

At Metro Airport

I am currently waiting at the Lufthansa gate for our flight to Frankfurt. Going through TSA always fills we with dread, but it never seems to be quite as bad as I expect. The Omicron strain and Covid spike, combined with international travel, had me a little extra on edge.

I am feeling like about the only person waiting who doesn't speak German.

Besides my phone, I am passing the time with the latest Entertainment Weekly. I had considered also buying The New Yorker to combine high brow with middle/low brow, but who am I kidding? I do not feel like reading The New Yorker. (Another "high brow" possibility was The Atlantic, but the cover had me so depressed that I quickly nixed that. I don't need to be reminded what a political shit show America is. I know.

That's all for now. Wish us luck.

Another dispatch from the Covid hellscape

How many times during this pandemic did we think we were "over the hump"? How many times did it feel like life was getting better? At this point, I've lost count.

I remember going to SuburbsFest in early October--which now feels like a long time ago--and seeing a flicker of light at the end of the pandemic tunnel. We were almost entirely maskless, while we listened to and/or performed music, recorded podcast episodes, and traipsed around D.C., and life actually felt pretty normal.

Now it's late December and it seems we are in the midst of the worst spike in Covid since this pandemic began two years ago. (Two years already! Can you believe that?). 

Between the never-ending Covid situation and our precarious political climate, am I the only one who feels like I'm living in a fututistic dystopian novel?

So in this big Covid spike, we are headed to Germany to visit our older son and his girlfriend's family. It should be an adventure. This will be my first ever trip to Europe. Chose a hell of a time to go, didn't I? 

I will try and post pictures of Germany here and on the various "socials."

Some thoughts about Get Back

I probably shouldn't have waited a full week before writing about The Beatles' Get Back documentary, which began streaming on Disney+ starting on Thanksgiving. So if you are interested in my thoughts, here you go...

I'll just start off by saying I loved all eight hours and could have easily watched 18 hours.

Many of our preconceived notions of the Beatles were changed or modified. They didn't seem to hate each other. Yes, there was tension at Twickenham Studios culminating in George Harrison leaving the band for a few days, but everyone appeared to get along swimmingly when the venue changed to Apple Studio on Savile Row.

Yoko Ono did not break up the Beatles. If anything, she kept John Lennon interested in the band longer than he may have otherwise.

I liked the scene at Twickenham in which Yoko and Linda Eastman (McCartney) are seen talking to each other. They appear to be having an enjoyable and intense conversation, which defies what I've read that Yoko and Linda were not friendly or at best, had no relationship whatsoever.

How about Glyn Johns: fashion plate. As great a producer as he was and still is, he should have been a rock star and not behind the scenes. I'm only slightly kidding.

Billy Preston was an absolute saint of a man, and obviously a tremendous musician. The second he walks into the Savile Row studio, the mood lightens and the enthusiasm is palpable

I enjoyed all the minutiae of Get Back: the striped coffee/tea cups littering the studio, along with the old newspapers and cigarette butts. The studio looks like a college students' apartment.

I also loved seeing the guys passing around record albums in the studio. I noticed a Smokey Robinson and the Miracles record and the Rolling Stones' Beggars Banquet album lying around the Savile Row studio. I wonder where that record is today? Does it still exist?

That's all I have for now. In short, I loved Get Back. It is great and anybody who thinks of themselves as a Beatles fan HAS to see it.

Suburbs Fest 2021

The following is a Facebook post about the Rockin' the Suburbs SuburbsFest that I decided to also post in the blog:

(I arrived at the Dulles early just to be on the safe side. Plane doesn't board until 1:00 PM).

This weekend at SUBURBS FEST!! - Oct 1-3, 2021 can trace its origins to 2014(ish) when "two middle-aged guys who have not lost their passion for rock 'n' roll" started a podcast through USA Today called Dad Rock. I'd guess that many of us stumbled upon the podcast by accident or word-of-mouth. Jim and Patrick, from the beginning, had a fun and lighthearted (yet passionate) approach to all kinds of music subjects.

When these "two middle-aged guys" left USA Today, they started a new podcast called Rockin' the Suburbs. Over time, an online/social media community developed. Meanwhile, Jim and Patrick championed people still out there playing music while living regular lives with families and day jobs (which probably describes most musicians, really). So bands like Justice Fuller, Wingtip Sloat (Patrick's band), Dot Dash, Apollo 66, and Frank Muffin. These were the bands that performed at the Fest.

When the pandemic hit and we were all locked in, Jim and Patrick started the Friday night "Hootenannys" on Zoom that gave the RTS community an opportunity to connect and perform music. The Hoots helped many of the podcast fans get through these terrible times with at least most of their sanity intact.

RTS also has a Facebook community that talks about music, shares pictures of music acquisitions, musical passions, and just about everything under the sun. It has always been a "no judgement zone." People are kind and supportive of each other regardless of musical taste. (In fact, we have all educated each other on music).

All of this culminated in these three wonderful days in the suburbs of Washington, DC. Folks arrived from as far away as California, Oregon, Louisiana, Indiana, Minnesota, Kentucky, New York (state AND city), and Michigan. (The RTS community also has folks from outside the U.S. who, unfortunately, could not make it here).

What happened this weekend represents the actual good side of the interwebs and social media.

My Charlie Watts story

Charlie Watts, drummer of the Rolling Stones, sadly and unexpectedly died on August 24.

I thought I'd take this opportunity to share my Charlie Watts story:

As I have probably already mentioned on this blog--or maybe not--I became a casual Stones fan in the mid '80s when I bought, at the local Woolworth store, K-Tel's cheapo two-volume Story of the Stones cassettes. (If I hadn't been such a spend thrift at the time, I'd have saved my lawnmowing and babysitting money and bought the Hot Rocks compilations, but I was too shortsighted to do that). By the time I got to college, I became more immersed in the Stones and, upon discovering the existence of used record stores, grabbed as many Stones albums as I could. This is when I acquired Out of Our Heads, Aftermath, Some Girls, and several others.

By 1992, I was firmly established as a fairly big Rolling Stones fan. That year, I'd forked over what was then a significant amount of money for The Singles Collection: The London Years. It was this collection that introduced me to Stones songs I had never heard before, like "Child of the Moon", "Who's Driving Your Plane?", "Long Long While", "Gotta Get Away", and their brilliant cover of Stevie Wonder's "I Don't Know Why." So, I was deeply immersed in the Rolling Stones.

In '92, I worked at Schuler Books and one of my responsibilities was shelving the reference section. One day, I found a celebrity address book in the reference section and, for whatever reason, I decided to browse through it. Much to my amazement, I found Charlie Watts listed. I believe the address was for his house in Devon. His ACTUAL RESIDENCE! Not some publicist or agent's address. I jotted down the address on a piece of paper and on a whim, thought "What the hell?" and wrote a fan letter to Charlie. I can't remember the contents of my letter, but I am sure it was glowing and complimentary without being fawning (at least not overly fawning). I slapped enough postage to cover the expense of the letter's trip to England, and sort of forgot about it. I really didn't expect a reply.

Fast forward a few months to November 1992. It was a Monday--one of my days off from the bookstore--and I'd gone to see the movie Malcolm X at the theater for an afternoon matinee. When I returned home and checked my mailbox, I found a small envelope that was clearly sent from overseas because of its "Par Avion" label. Who could possibly be writing to me from overseas? There was only one person I could think of, but the handwriting on the envelope didn't match. I sliced open the envelope and pulled out a folded square of paper: "Dear Mark, Thank you for letter and all the things you said, Yours, [squiggly indecipherable signature]--and below the signature--"C R Watts" written in neat block letters.

Holy fucking shit!

Charlie Watts actually replied to my fan letter!

It is something I will never forget, and I have kept that letter (and the envelope) safely inside a hardcover book about the Stones. I know exactly where it is and will never part with the letter (or the book).

Two years after receiving my note from Charlie, the Rolling Stones played at Michigan State's Spartan Stadium--a concert that I of course attended. (The only time I have seen the Stones in concert). I like to think that me, this little Stones fan in Lansing, Michigan, was responsible for getting the Stones to play in the Lansing area. Now, I don't REALLY think I had anything to do with the Stones playing at Spartan Stadium, but in my fantasies, I do.

Anxiety of a new school year

It has been to long since a blog post.

Today is the first day of school for our younger son (who is starting 11th grade), so there is a good deal of anxiety and trying to get used to the change of routine. And then there is that Covid thing that just lingers like a moxious and unwanted dinner guest. 

Our son feels anxious and I know that both his parents do. It doesn't help that younger son is on the autism spectrum, so changes in routine and ventures ("adventures?") into the unknown are twice as hard as they are for "neurotypical" folks.

Like almost every other kid in America, he spent the entire school year of 2020-21 in virtual learning. It did not go well for him, and I suspect it did not go particularly well for the majority of students out there. Kids really need to learn in person, which has made this pandemic doubly terrible in how it has made conventional school so hard to sustain.

I just hope for a healthy year with little (or how about NO) incidents of of Covid. That is probably asking too much. Please let's just have a better year than last year.

Returning to normal? (Or whatever "normal" is. And is "normal" that great in the first place?)

 It's been almost two months since I wrote here. Much to catch up with.

So how about that year-and-a-half we just went through? How are you all doing? Wasn't that crazy, disturbing, and just a bit scary? I hope you made it through. It's still unfathomable how many people we lost from Covid since early 2020. I am thankful that I and my family made it through relatively unscathed. I know all too well that there are plenty who did not.

We are slowly returning to "normal," or whatever "normal" is. At work, we no longer have to wear masks and, beginning yesterday, we are done with filling out our morning health screenings. (This began on June 11, 2020 and lasted until June 28, 2021). Every morning for well over a year, we all had to officially let work know--one hour prior to arriving on site--that we were not sick (or at least did not "feel" sick). 

By the way, I am still trying to get used to the idea of not wearing a mask. I still bring one with me all the time just in case the situation seems appropriate.

So yesterday, we had to go pick up my older son from Detroit Metropolitan Airport. He is back home for a month from Germany. Unfortunately, his connecting flight from Washington, DC to Detroit was delayed by almost two hours. We headed out at about 7 PM and hit a horrible rainstorm just north of the 2-75/I-94 interchange. Considering how reckless and flat-out awful drivers are on 2-75 under normal circumstances, it was doubly white-knuckle inducing in a rainstorm. Thankfully, we made it to the airport safely, but then witnessed some abominable behavior from people at the baggage claim. A woman got angry with a man who was pacing back and forth while talking on his cell phone. The man snapped at the woman and began to yell at her and insult her. The man's wife/girlfriend/companion tried to calm him down, but he continued to rant. Finally, a female security person walked over and gently placed her hand on the man's back and talked to him quietly. He calmed down a bit after that. (The only reason I mention that the security personnel was female is because I think she treated the situation with more gentleness and kindness than a man might do). Once that calmed down, we heard some loud commotion and shouting elsewhere. Unable to see what was going on, we never did find out what the problem was. Finally, our son disembarked and we were able to leave. I have never been happier to get the hell out of an airport--and that is saying something.

I thought that after last night's ordeal, I might end up coming to work late today, but I woke up at my normal time. However, right now the fatigue has set in. I am ready to go home and take a nap.

Marvin Gaye--What's Going On

Listening to What’s Going On (while putting groceries away) as a commemoration of sorts for its 50^th anniversary.

While listening, I had an epiphany—or maybe I just think it’s an epiphany. Maybe I actually heard it or read it somewhere and now I believe it to be an original theory. Anyway, the album starts with Marvin (or the character Marvin is portraying) greeting friends (Mel Farr and Lem Barney of the Detroit Lions) before launching into the title track. “What’s Going On” is a summation of the sad state of affairs in 1971 (which may as well be 2021). We can also hear conversation and laughter in the background, as if we’re at a get-together or party.

The second song, “What’s Happening Brother,” is told from the perspective of a returning Vietnam vet, asking how everyone else is doing and relating his struggles. We are still at the party. And then one of them (the vet?) starts “flying high in the friendly sky…without ever leaving the ground.” The next five songs are the most orchestral and “floating” songs on the album. They range from the spiritual, philosophical, ecological, and a plea to “save the babies.” (I admit to once finding these songs a bit corny, but now I find them deeply moving). Basically, these are the musings of a person who is high, feeling philosophical, and picturing a better world (probably under the influence of some drug or other).

The reverie ends when the longest song, “Right On,” concludes. The final track, “Inner City Blues (make we wanna holler)”, returns the listener to harsh, stark reality. The high has worn off, and the folks at the party must face the cruel world again.

What’s Going On envisions a better planet, but is well aware of what a mess humanity is in reality.

Chauvin verdict briefly revisited

 I meant to post an update on the Chauvin trial, but never got around to it.

On the day of the verdict (April 20), the coverage coincided with my drive home from work. I was nervous the entire 16 mile trip, as I anxiously awaited for the jury and judge to enter the courtroom. Literally, as I pulled into the driveway, the judge and jury had entered and were ready to deliver the verdict. Coincidentally, L. and D. had arrived home too at that same time. We all remained in our respective cars waiting for the verdict. When Chauvin was found guilty on all three counts, I (perhaps embarrassingly) reacted as if my favorite sports team had defeated a heavily favored arch-rival. 

I am not sure whether this is a harbinger of the future, or just an anomaly because it was so freaking obvious in that video that Derek Chauvin was a murdered. It's entirely possible that cops will be able to continue on indiscriminately beating the hell out of and/or killing people when they feel like it, but my less cynical self would like to think that this will finally change. We shall see...

The Derek Chauvin Trial

The Derek Chauvin murder trial has been on my mind, as the prosecution and defense rest their cases and the jury begins deliberation.

I have had a hard time watching any of the coverage or even news recaps. I find this case to be so deeply disturbing and further troubled by the real possibility that Derek Chauvin walks. I have no doubt in my mind that Chauvin murdered George Floyd, but we all know too well what happens when a cop is a defendant.

No matter how much the defense wants to gaslight the jury into believing anything but Chauvin's knee on Floyd's neck was responsible for Floyd's death, I keep going back to that video and the look of defiance and soullessness on Chauvin's face. No matter what the defense may want any of us to believe, that is the look of a murderer.

Chauvin needs to be held accountable for his actions. He needs to be punished by the hand of the law. If he is exonerated, then the police essentially have the right to kill any of us for any reason--or for no reason. I don't think that is an exaggeration.

I am terrified that Chauvin will get away with this, but it won't surprise me a bit if he does.

Raw notes for The Godfathers' More Songs About Love & Hate

This is probably a bit self-indulgent on my part, but here are the notes I took when listening to The Godfathers' More Songs About Love & Hate. I thought it might be of some interest to some people (and probably completely boring for 99.9 percent of everyone else), but it's my blog and I'll do whatever I want--so there! So here are my musically uneducated off-the-cuff observations of each song on the album:

"She Gives Me Love"--Poppiest song on the album? Prominent drumming and wah-wah guitar. Good opener.

"Those Days Are Over"--Has an AC/DC "For Those About to Rock" feel with Byrds-y guitar break. Song about dissatisfaction or maybe warfare (either real of metaphorical).

"How Low Is Low"--Title says it all. More dissatisfaction sung over a Rolling Stones groove.

"Pretty Girl"--This could have been on a mid-'60s beat group album. Simple lovelorn lyrics and "yeah, yeah, yeah" vocals on the outro.

"This Is Your Life"--These guys can really write hooks, even when they lyrics are despondent and angry. Ends with the same chord played over and over to reinforce the feeling of pressure, drudgery, etc. (The chord is played 75 times in row, according to Trouser Press review).

"I'm Lost and Then I'm Found"--A chugging bloozy rocker which predicts the emergence of The Black Crowes that same year [Not that The Black Crowes were necessarily listening to these guys].

"I Don't Believe In You"--More "that girl done me wrong" lyrics. Rockin' and catchy, but filler.

"Life Has Passed Us By"--Our boys enter Kinks/Madness territory here. "Terry and Judy" rather than "Terry and Julie" of the Kinks' "Waterloo Sunset. [If the previous song predicts The Black Crowes, this one predicts the Britpop of Oasis and Blur a few years in the future].

"Walking Talking Johnny Cash Blues"--Need I say this is a fun rockabilly tune. The bit about taking speed is funny, given it was once Cash's drug of choice.

"Halfway Paralyzed"--This could be the Richard Burton/Liz Taylor theme. [Google the lyrics and read them].

"Another You"--A pleasant if inconsequential closer. Twangy and surf-y guitar sound.

Thrift Store Finds, Volume 2: The Godfathers/More Songs About Love & Hate

The following is adapted from and expanded upon an Intagram post I made. There was copy-and-pasting going on, which always seems to irrevocably mess up the font size and font type in Blogger.

I recall loving The Godfathers' song "Birth School Work Death" back in 1988. It was full of piss and vinegar, righteous anger, and in the video, the guys in the band looked like extras from The Long Good Friday. For whatever reason, however, I never bought the album. After finally discovering, 32 years after the fact, the no-frills, Clash-meets-AC/DC rock 'n' roll of More Songs About Love & Hate, I now feel the need to dig into their earlier stuff. And in fact, I have finally ordered Birth, School, Work, Death album a mere 33 years after its release. (Update, the disc arrived yesterday and I love it).

More Songs About Love & Hate (I assume the title is a nod to Leonard Cohen) largely avoids the cheesy production that mars many '80s albums. It might help that, from what I've read, The Godfathers' producer Vic Maile was chosen largely because the band liked what he'd done on Motorhead's Ace of Spades album. (Though I'm sure it didn't hurt that he'd also produced the legendary British band Dr. Feelgood, who are similar to The Godfathers). Vic Maile produced The Godfathers' first three albums, concluding with this one. (Vic Maile died on July 11, 1989, presumably not long after More Songs... was completed).

It's a shame that Epic changed the album cover for the American release. The British cover features an atmospheric photograph of Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, while the American release replaces it with a somewhat pedestrian group shot. Apparently Epic thought that American audiences were either too stupid to know about the couple's tumultuous passionate marriage or had never seen Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?. That photo of Liz and Richard fits the mood and feel of the songs as well as the title. And by the way, I am merely speculating on Epic's decision to change the album cover. I really have no idea why they did it.

Regardless of the album cover, this is a tremendous record. I know that it is a cliche to claim that an album is an "overlooked gem" or "lost classic," but this applies to More Songs About Love & Hate. "She Gives Me Love" kicks off with frantic drumming and might be the most infectious song on the record, though the album is full of infectious rockers. "Those Days Are Over" combines AC/DC and Byrdsy influences, with a prominent Roger McGuinn-like guitar break. (It definitely sounds like a Rickenbacker guitar on that tune, and that is the only instance of any Godfathers song I've heard to feature anything remotely resembling a Rick). "Life Has Passed Us By" enters Kinks/Madness territory, while the guys dial up the rockabilly on the amusing "Walking Talking Johnny Cash Blues" with the funny line "Well I took some speed I thought it was what I'd need." The stylistic range these guys possess is impressive.

My conclusion is that I wish I'd forked over my hard-earned dorm cafeteria employee money for these Godfathers albums back in the late '80s. I would have played them with the fervor I played R.E.M., The Replacements, U2, The Smithereens, and U2. But hey, better late than never, right?

Arc of Justice by Kevin Boyle

Mark's latest book report:

Arc of Justice, by Kevin Boyle, was published in 2004, won the National Book Award, and I finally got around to reading it (though I took a few breaks along the way). I had the book on my “to read” list for many years.

The book is the painstakingly researched and detailed story of Ossian Sweet, a young, successful Black doctor who bought an attractive brick bungalow on the corner of Charlevoix and Garland in an all-white neighborhood on Detroit’s east side. On the evening after Ossian and his wife moved into the house in September 1925, a white mob gathered outside, and chaos ensued. Stones were thrown at the house and shots were fired from an upstairs window. Two people were struck by bullets, one of whom died. 

What unfolds is a kaleidoscopic view of 1920s Detroit. The city was a rapidly growing industrial metropolis, with thousands of people of all races and nationalities flooding the city to work in auto (and auto-related) factories. At the same time, the Ku Klux Klan had staked out Detroit in its strategy of extending white supremacy in the North. The 1924 mayoral election pitted a candidate (Charles Bowles) supported by the KKK against the progressive Republican John “Johnny” Smith. Smith gathered a coalition of immigrants and Blacks and won the election. 

Still, the city was teeming with racial tension. Segregation, housing discrimination, and intolerance were firmly entrenched in the city. Ossian Sweet’s attempt to move into a white neighborhood, and the ensuing trials, brought to sharp focus a homeowner’s rights to self-defense as well as the white “neighborhood associations” created to reinforce racial discrimination and intimidation.

Boyle does an excellent job in painting a vivid picture of Detroit in the 1920s. There are many colorful characters who make appearances in the book, most notably the flamboyant and eloquent Clarence Darrow—fresh off the Scopes Monkey Trial--who was the Sweets’ defense attorney.

Boyle also spends a significant portion of the book describing who Ossian Sweet was. We learn about his industrious and loving parents, his occasionally harrowing childhood in Bartow, Florida, and his education at both Wilberforce and Howard Universities. Sweet’s life was touched by both professional success and personal tragedies.

In light of the racial hatred that sadly continues in the United States in 2021, Arc of Justice is a reminder of how the “good old days” are “old” but definitely were not “good.” Some improvements have been made in race relations since 1925, but we still have a long way to go.

Thrift Store Music Finds

I recently hit up the local St. Vincent de Paul thrift shop down the street from work to look at their CDs (because more CDs is just what I need--like a hole in my head). I can at least rationalize it by telling myself that I'm donating money to charity. Anyway, I found some decent stuff, or at least stuff I believe to be decent. Certainly decent for $1 apiece. So here is what I bought: Franz Ferdinand--Franz Ferdinand, Gorillaz--Gorillaz, Live--Secret Samadhi, Madonna--The Immaculate Collection, Paul McCartney--Run Devil Run, and 10,000 Maniacs--Our Time in Eden. 

So here is the rundown:

I remember Franz Ferdinand from the early aughts and the era of angular punky garage-y bands like The Strokes, The Hives, etc. I suppose Franz Ferdinand belong in that category, or are at least adjacent. Outside of their hit "Take Me Out," I didn't pay them much attention then, but in 2021 at the thrift shop I thought: why not? I spun the album a few days ago and enjoyed it. I hear a bit of Roxy Music in what Franz Ferdinand were doing, and Alex Kapranos seems to be channeling Bryan Ferry. I wish I hadn't waited 17 years to investigate these guys, but I wasn't feeling it in 2004.

I will always think of Gorillaz as Damon Albarn's side project from Blur, which is ridiculous because Gorillaz have been much more commercially successful than Blur ever were. When Gorillaz' second album Demon Days was released in 2005, I checked it out of the library but couldn't get into it. A probably reason for this disconnect was that I was listening to it in my car on my way to a job interview, was already nervous, and the music didn't help. I never bothered to give it another try. I listened to a bit of this debut and liked what I heard. It may soon be time to give Demon Days another shot.

If they are remembered at all anymore, Live takes all kinds of shit these days. I don't give a damn what anyone says though, Throwing Copper is outstanding. (I held back from saying "Throwing Copper slaps"). Sure, the lyrics are a bit dodgy ("her placenta falls to the floor") but the music is both hooky and ferocious in a '90s grunge sort of way. The much-maligned follow-up Secret Samadhi was at the thrift shop, so I thought I'd give it a try. The first two songs aren't bad. Maybe I will provide a full report later.

The Immaculate Collection is the first Madonna album I've owned since I had her debut on cassette from about 1984-1986. I decided that owning a Madonna album wasn't "cool" anymore, so I gave it to the guy who lived next door to me at Shaw Hall during my freshman year at Michigan State. Madonna's singles are undeniable, so I'm looking forward to giving this a spin.

I listened to Paul McCartney's Run Devil Run on the way home from St. Vincent de Paul, and what an incredible find for $1. I'd heard for years how good the album was: raw and energized, McCartney dealing with the pain of losing his wife Linda by going back into his musical past. I was a bit skeptical, but the consensus was correct. Once again, I wish I hadn't waited so long.

And finally, there is 10,000 Maniacs' Our Time in Eden. I have been off-and-on with this band since 1987, when I discovered their then-new album In My Tribe and the earlier The Wishing Chair. In the same way that the band Live seems trapped in the 1990s, 10,000 Maniacs seem trapped in the '80s. They are never mentioned any time the great bands of the '80s are discussed. I'm not exactly sure why that is, but I have some theories: First, they were not sonically edgy. Though The Wishing Chair had some slightly dissonant post-punk feel ("Scorpio Rising" comes to mind), it's largely folk rock. In My Tribe is even more hook-laden and folky. The rough edges of The Wishing Chair were largely smoothed away by Peter Asher's crisp production, though this isn't necessarily a bad thing. The music is more focused on In My Tribe than The Wishing Chair. (The Maniacs' earlier indie recordings, Human Conflict Number Five and Secrets of the I Ching are delightfully eccentric in their mix of jittery new waviness/post-punkiness and white reggae, but not likely to get the arbiters of cool, i.e. rock critics, too excited). The second "problem" 10,000 Maniacs have (at least among the arbiters of cool) are Natalie Merchant's lyrics, which could be perceived as too didactic/moralizing, particularly on In My Tribe. 

After listening to Our Time in Eden, perhaps the band's most assured and mature album, and digging into the early stuff from 1982-83, I conclude it's ridiculous that 10,000 Maniacs have been forgotten. They absolutely deserve a place among the best bands of the '80s and early '90s (since I don't count the post-Natalie years).

So there is my ill-spent time at the thrift store. Stay tuned for likely future installments.

Trump is gone, and it is a new dawn.

We made it.

We survived.

No violence.

A peaceful transfer of power.

I woke up yesterday morning to the news that Donald and Melania Trump had already departed in a helicopter from the White House. No straightjacket or handcuffs were required to get him out, as I had not quite jokingly worried about for months.

Oh, did I mention that all the library staff worked remotely yesterday because downtown Lansing was deemed potentially too dangerous for us to work in the building? Thank you Trump. Thank you MAGA, Proud Boy, and QAnon buffoons.

I can happily report that there was no violence in Lansing yesterday. In fact, I think the city was a ghost town on Inauguration Day. 

So I woke up, found out that Trump had left, and wrote this on Facebook. (I really need to spend less time on Facebook, but that's another story). These words were straight from the gut and flowed right out of me. I had probably waited four or five years to write them:

"He is gone. Good riddance. Easily the worst president in my lifetime and one of the worst in American history. He damaged the country in ways we still have not fully grasped. No amount of mental gymnastics or alternate reality creation from his followers can change the objective truth of the havoc and horror he caused."

I settled in and watched the inauguration on television. While trying not to get nervous that anything would upside down, I was moved by it: the pomp and circumstance, the feelings of cautious optimism. (And I was intrigued by Kamala Harris' twenty-something stepdaughter Ella Emhoff, whose funky bohemian fashion was fascinating and most welcome. I later learned that she is a student at Parsons School of Design).

Lady Gaga sang a lovely rendition of the national anthem while wearing a large gold dove on her dress, and poet laureate Amanda Gorman read a beautiful and emotional poem.

Everything went off without a hitch, and I can't adequately describe how relieved I was by that.

Later in the day, after going for my first run of the Biden administration, I watched the Celebrating America television special. The highlight for me was Bruce Springsteen singing "Land of Hope and Dreams" alone on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. As the cliché goes, "who started chopping onions in here?!"

Everything yesterday went about as well as could be expected, and now begins the arduous task of getting the nation back on track again.

Stressed out

I am in one of those periodic stages I have been throughout the pandemic in which I feel like the world is closing in on me. I'm stressed out and the only way I can get through is by taking life day by day, which I suppose is what everyone is doing.

We had someone test positive for Covid at my workplace, and that has me feeling anxiety. I think it has most of us feeling some degree of anxiety. I feel that I'm constantly monitoring my health: "Is that a sore throat I feel coming on? No, I guess not. Good. Can I still smell things? Yes? Good. Uh-oh, I just coughed. Is that just a normal cough? I guess so. Good." And on and on. I mean, I tend to be a bit neurotic anyway, but combine that with a pandemic and one positive test at work--the first one we have had to the best of my knowledge--and I am even more on edge than usual. 

Before I make this too much about me, I must say that I hope my co-worker who tested positive makes a full recovery.

By the way, yesterday marked the seven month anniversary of me returning to work in the office. My goal is to stay healthy until I can get the vaccine, whenever that is. Right now, it's looking like spring at the earliest.

And then there is the continuing fallout from the coup attempt on January 6. The next several days leading to January 20 will be fraught with tension. Is the violence over? Will the inauguration of Biden happen without a hitch? And if so, what happens in the aftermath? These are scary times, the likes of which none of us have ever seen before. As a somewhat naïve white American man, I always presumed that no matter  our differences in this country, the peaceful transfer of power was pretty much a given.* American institutions were such that everything would be "fine." At least to a certain extent, I believed in American exceptionalism. Coups and dictatorships were what happened in other countries, not in the strong, solid, democratic United States of America.

It seems clear that the violence is not over, and I hope that the National Guard and/or law enforcement is prepared to stop any further insurrection, but I'm anxiety-ridden. I have absolutely no faith in law enforcement in doing the right thing, and only slightly more faith in the National Guard. I hope to God I am wrong.

I am extremely worried about Inauguration Day, and would prefer Biden and Harris to take the oath of office indoors--though I understand Biden's wanting to defy the insurrectionists and have the ceremony outside. It seems too dangerous, though.

Even before Inauguration Day, the Trump Cult plans "demonstrations" on the days leading up to the 20th, and the FBI has reported that these are not simply "demonstrations." Violence and mayhem are in the cards.

The House of Representatives are scheduled to vote on a second Trump impeachment. I find laughable the claims by Republicans that impeachment will simply "divide" the country and create more violence. Haven't we already crossed that bridge? Trump needs to be punished for his attempted coup and for every bit of corruption that has taken place since his first impeachment, there is no way around it. The country is already divided and the Trump Cult will be violent whether there is an impeachment or not. Whatever "healing" that can take place in this country will not take place for a long time. 

So there you have it, I'm nervous as hell. My Fitbit tells me my heart rate has been above average for eight days in a row. I have no doubt that stress is the major contributing factor.

That's all for now...

*Note: Obama's first inaugural in 2009 was the only previous exception to this belief that the peaceful transition of power would take place without incident. In the back of my mind, I worried that Secret Service, Homeland Security, or the FBI would intervene on the dais and declare that "this has gone on long enough. We cannot have a black president."

An attempted overthrow of the federal government. The culmination of Trumpism

The dust has at least temporarily cleared from yesterday's storming of the United States Capitol and attempted coup by a mob of MAGA terrorists.

How long have I been railing against Trump and the danger he presents to our nation? It's not as if I'm a brilliant sage or learned political scholar. Anyone with a brain could have seen this coming as far back as 2015, when Trump announced he was running for president and started to get traction. And in all actuality, this is a wound that has been festering since well before Trump became president.

What should have been a celebratory day--after Georgia elected Raphael Warnock, the state's first ever Black senator (and Jon Ossoff also winning his Georgia senatorial runoff)--turned into an afternoon of chaos in Washington, DC. What happened at the capitol was simply the culmination of the ferment that Trump has been stoking for the last four plus years. 

The week began with me leaving messages on the voicemails of Ted Cruz and Josh Hawley. You can see how effective that was. I did feel some catharsis from doing it, however.

Yesterday afternoon, I decided not to take a walk in downtown Lansing. This has been one of several times in the last nine months I have simply decided not to risk it. That is how periodically disturbing our state capitol has been, between COVID/Lockdown protestors and MAGA nutjobs. (The Venn diagram for these groups has a vast overlap). I had a feeling the scene would not be good, and as it turned out there were a handful of right-wingers at the state capitol. 

Michigan State Capitol, January 6, 2020 (photo credit: Matthew Dae Smith, Lansing State Journal)

Instead, I drove the short jaunt to the Record Lounge and thought I'd spend a few minutes looking at records. (If you're wondering if I bought anything, of course I did). As I was exiting my car a little after 2:00, I saw reports of what was happening in Washington. By the time I returned to work, all hell had broken loose. I could barely work the rest of the day. I was shaken. It was a nightmare come true. I have never been sadder to be an American citizen as I was yesterday.

What happened yesterday cannot be tolerated. The perpetrators need to be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Donald Trump needs to be held accountable for inciting an attempted overthrow of the federal government. He cannot be allowed to get away with this.

And with that, I'm out for now.