10 Top

Great Albums:
- "Plans" by Death Cab for Cutie
- "Black Holes and Revelations" by Muse

- "Who We Are Instead" by Jars of Clay

- "Never Take Friendship Personal" by Anberlin

- "The Everglow" by Mae

- "The Young and the Hopeless" by Good Charlotte

- "Dog Problems" by The Format
- "Who's Next" by The Who
- "New Way to Be Human" by Switchfoot
- "Speak for Yourself" by Imogen Heap

Every one of these I get excited about. If you don't have them I would passionately argue that you should get them. I wish I could grab you by the shoulders and say Buy them!!

But in truth I would rather you obtain everything ever recorded by Hank Williams Sr., a couple compilations of Johnny Cash, "When the Sun Comes Down" by Leadbelly, "The Early Years" by Woody Guthrie, and "Songs and Sounds of the Sea" (which you would have to get from me). These are songs that are enjoyed most by singing them yourself, and growing familiar with them will arm you for boredom of any sort, showers of any length, and tasks of any repetitiveness. America is poorer for not knowing songs like these, or needing them anymore. They were chiseled in the forge of a thousand campfires and wagon trains, generations of singing, and a trillion clangs of hammer on steel. When properly received, they put all of the albums listed above to shame. That I firmly believe.

[P.S. This is why nobody wants to hear songs I write or learn or want to play. For some reason, my music tastes are directed towards (self-percieved) betterment, not enjoyment. More precisely, betterment of self through true enjoyment. Or enjoyment of "truth" (i.e. value, as determined by my NSHO). But who wants a music crusader around the campfire at midnight? Freakin' play Colbie Caillat and shut up, John.]

Night Shift at the Plant

Glass rolls down the line
Numbers slowly count the time
2 am, 3 am,
One by one they go
You don't care that the rest of the world sleeps.

Bright fluorescents know no hour
Warehouse roofs ignore the sky
Walk the concrete, open doors
Heavy boots on lengthy floors

Drink your coffee
Eat your food
Quarters clink in the vending machine
Gloves in pocket
Heat on face
Got to tend to everything

Push your glasses up your nose
Take a long step over a hose
Fans churn with ceaseless pull
Stand in the door and feel the sucking air

See what but a few have seen
Worlds of heat no man can ever tread
Cautious near to take a peek within
Hot breath of the beast upon your head

Never quiet
Never still
Dust and heat
And human will

Take and make the earth our slave
Make it make what can't be made
Motors quake and rafters climb
Bend it all to our design

Two Cities, Two Lives, and Solomon

My past two weekends off I have gone on two trips, one to New York City and one to Akron, Ohio. Each of these places presented a lifestyle that part of me yearns for, and that is very different from my Pittsburgh life.

Two weeks ago I stepped into the bustling world of The King's College - a small but potent school with 200 highly motivated and ambitious students. In the heart of New York City they buffet themselves with tough, mind-shaping classes, and enter the world of high-power businesses, media, and generally the movers and shakers of our lives. Even when you babysit, you're watching the kids of multi-millionaires. Connections are around every corner and sitting in every coffee shop, and the students are thrusting themselves into every opportunity they can get.

This past weekend I entered the artistic, expressive world of the Akron/Cleveland area. Walking into the Thompsons' basement you can tell the house is filled with creatures that must express themselves. Paintings litter the walls, the basement is bursting with instruments, and Cory and Ryan's rooms are bedecked with random artifacts, paintings and signs. Craig walks around in all sorts of abnormal outfits, and never seems to play the same band twice, or any band that I recognize. Everyone plays something, and anytime two or more are gathered together, music is there. In the circles I hang out in there, local bands are thown around in conversation like the Pens or Steelers are in Pittsburgh. There are billboards for the Akron film festival, and the radio waves are full of excellent music, instead of the 80's and country that clog the Pittsburgh airwaves. People are sophisticated musically and artistically, and the cities support them.

Part of me wants to throw myself into either one of these worlds. Try to realize the potential that I believe I should have as a sharp homeschool with a Summa in chemical engineering and a restlessly analytical mind. Why shouldn't I be writing music reviews for a New York magazine? Why shouldn't I be interning at a studio, living in a Brooklyn apartment, and meeting people in the city and building a network there? I'd even settle for going back to college and returning to the joy and pain of forcing my mind around new concepts and whipping it into shape with lectures and classwork. I would love to learn about history and economics and sociology, and see what I did in a setting like that.
Or I could let go of my partial hold on normalcy and dive into the world of music people. Find a part-time job to pay the bills, join some bands, play every gig I could get, practice electric guitar every day, record my songs, write new ones, be challenged by people better than me, and work myself in to venues and radio stations and studios.

Part of me wants to do either of those.
Part.
I'm 24. If I was destined for one of those lives, an unwelcome voice whispers that I'd already be in one of them. If my soul cried for expression so strongly, I would be driven to my guitar, driven to my studio, instead of stuttering at the whim of my inspiration and sinking into laziness as a default. If I was such a brilliant mind, I'd be tearing it up at Guardian and motoring for advancement, probably with my sights on a PhD or a specific career path. Instead I sit with a couple toes in each pond, and my body resting in the comfortable, predictable suburban life of my parents and grandparents.

Enter Solomon.

He and I hung out Friday as I read Ecclesiastes. I'll give you two paraphrases of what I took away from my reading:
1) "People work and work and strive, and they never enjoy what they get, and die, and no one remembers them. That's no good. The best that there is in this world is to enjoy what you do every day, and seek wisdom."
2) The farmers always win.

Why is it that in every movie, it's the farmers who are happy? How many times have stories contrasted the dashing life of some adventurer with the peace of an agricultural community? "Magnificent Seven" acknowledged it up front at the end - the surviving gunmen are riding out of town, and Yul Brynner comments that it's the farmers who really win in the end. Jet Li's character in "Fearless" learns peace and wisdom from the village he ends up in after destroying his life with Wushu fighting. I believe that the fiction in these stories reflects the innate truth that Solomon lays out in Ecclesiastes:

What has a man from all the toil and striving of heart with which he toils beneath the sun? For all his days are full of sorrow, and his work is a vexation. Even in the night his heart does not rest. This also is vanity. There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God. (Eccl. 2:22-24)

It would be folly to make myself unable to enjoy my current life by fretting for something different. And it may be ok to be ok where I'm at.

That is not a possibility I would have considered a week ago.

Akron at Last

This past weekend I made it out to Akron - the first time in '09. It was my long weekend--off from Thursday evening till Monday evening--and Steve was supposed to come to Pittsburgh to record. There ended up being some attractive events in Akron, and I wasn't feeling the recording for some reason, so I packed up and headed out Thursday night at 11:30, after a stressful evening watching Pitt lose and the Pens lose in a shootout. I rolled into the Thompsons about 1:30 and hung there with Brian, Nick, Steve-O, Cory and Ryan. Just walking into their basement was like finally putting on a jacket that fits - there were amps everywhere, guitars, 2 drumsets set up, 2 keyboards, guitar pedals littering the floor and shelves, a recording computer with 3 sets of speakers surrounding it, and stacks of audio gear everywhere. We kicked it for awhile and then Steve and I retired to the Hoffmans.

Friday Steve worked and I went to the church for a "personal retreat." I stopped at Taco Bell and Starbucks beforehand, and was pleasantly surprised to see Jess at work. It made me realize how long it's been since I'd been around. My retreat was neither fantastic nor a failure, and I wrapped up around 6:30pm. That evening Steve and I tossed around possible concerts to go to, but ended up going to Giant Eagle and getting a bunch of low-grade steaks and a movie. The steaks were quite good, and so was Eagle Eye.

Steve had to work again Saturday, but I went to a seminar that Aaron Osbourn was doing at CoG. It was about the Holy Spirit, and went from 9:30 to around 4pm. I sat in the sound room with Craig, which was nice and relaxed and private. From there we went to the Thompsons' house, which Craig was going to be house-sitting for the week. Steve took awhile to get back from work and show up, and in the interim Craig and I went shopping for supplies for Autumn's 21st birthday party that night. People started arriving around 7:30, and we had a good night eating burgers, talking around the kitchen table, jamming in the basement, and eventually chilling in the hot tub outside long long into the morning. Jes Arlia is a great guy. I'm a fan.

I got up alright Sunday morning, but I was pretty tired that day. Church was good, and packed with people from Dayton who had come for the seminar. Craig, Steve and I hit up MetroBurger for lunch with Brian and Nick, and we all drifted across the street to an awesome record store and an "artsy person" clothes store. Turns out there are clothes that fit me _perfectly_ and look _awesome_, but they cost $100+ a pop. Sad. Craig, Steve and I went back to the Thompsons and ended up crashing in Cory's room watching Flight of the Concords and falling asleep. That was sad because it was a stunning day outside, and Tuminos and Mallinacks were going for a hike. It saddened me to coup myself up in a dark room watching media drivel and drifting lazily to sleep, but that's the price for partying the night before. That evening we went to a party that Ernie - a newer man from CoG - put together for the guys in the church. We had some good snacks and talking, and watched "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," which is quite a thought-provoking movie. That night a few people came over to the Thompsons, but we didn't do much - Craig and I watched a movie and hit the sack.

Monday I woke up a little past noon, packed up, and headed to the Tuminos' for lunch. It was another gorgeous day, and it was great to hang out in the house full of life and love. I had to tear myself away, and barely made it home in time to pack my lunch cooler, change into my work clothes, put on my boots, and go to work.

Thus endeth another weekend of my life. Thoughts from this and the trip 2 weekends previous shall be forthcoming.

New York City!

It actually happened! After much speculative conversation with Debs, an abort, and a re-bort (what's the opposite of abort?), I finally en verdad found myself in the car with Debs and her freshman year roommate Lydia, driving away from the Hetricks and headed east to the big city. I was pretty awake despite working that night, and only dozed for a couple hours through the middle of PA (Don't worry, Debs was driving). We arrive on the isle of Manhattan early in the afternoon, dropped off our baggage at her apartment, and took the car to Brooklyn to park it for the weekend. I shan't tell you where, so that I may keep that little nook as my own personal free parking spot. I'm a fan. Then it was the first of many subway rides.. back into the city, to Debs' apartment: 3C5. The four roommates of 3C5 are a fixture at Kings College, and that was sort of our home base for the tumultuous days we were there. I stayed at Matt, Kyle and John's apartment a few blocks away, pretty much drifting in and out like a phantom, and only seeing them once or twice.

I'll try to recap succinctly our varied adventures. After getting settled Friday we toured The King's College, which is located in the basement of the Empire State Building. Adventures getting through security. Ask me about it :-P
At first we were going to attend a TKC event that included dinner, but we ended up bailing and finding a pub to watch the Penguins game. Really really good coconut shrimp, Bushmills, and hockey game. By the end of the night most of the 3C5 girls and some other folks had congregated at our table, listening to Debs tell stories from work. I split at 12:30, when my lack of sleep finally caught up with me. Of course, I stayed up another 2 hours having a quiet time and soaking in the city from the 17th-floor apartment. So cool!

Saturday was crazy. I got up of my own accord at 7:30, and decided to go for a walk instead of sleeping more. So I forayed out with only a hoodie, seeking the edge of the island, not realizing it was actually 35 degrees out, despite being sunny. I never quite turned around, but I got really stinking cold. Worth it, though. I saw a helipad, a ConEd utility vehicle base, some crazy trucking center, a subway utility yard, and this random dock with boats and stuff that you could just walk on. It was sunny, fresh, blue skies and wonderful. Got back around 10:30, met up with Debs, and headed out with her and her friend Angie. We got frozen yogurt at Pinkberry (yogurt that's frozen. Not "less-fatty-ice-cream" that most of us call frozen yogurt), and darted into a pub to watch some rugby. Never mind the details, we ended up at The Frick, a sweet art museum, with Johanna, one of Debs' roommates. From there we killed some time at 3C5 playing risk, and headed to brgr for dinner with a big group of people. Best hamburger I've ever eaten, bar none. Then we all took a walk to this bakery, the cupcakes of which are the rave of everybody at Kings. Not life-changing, but the red velvet one was pretty good.
Our next activity, after some more chilling at the apartment, was Debs' hockey game. She plays with a league when she lives there, and her coach let her play this weekend, which she was stoked about. That game was one of my favorite parts of the trip - it was a lot of fun to watch, Debs' team played well, and it really made me appreciate the quality of hockey at the pro level, 'cause I'd never had anything to compare it to before. The game was from 11:30pm to 12:30am. At 2 Debs and I headed out from 3C5 to meet up with her friend Kyle at "Fat Baby," a club. Yes, we went clubbing! It was just like a movie - line out the front of the building, bouncer talking smack on everybody, dark inside with flashing lights, DJ boppin' and spinnin' records, everybody drinking and dancing.. the whole deal. Neither of us were at home in that scene, but it was still interesting to have done, and Kyle is a cool guy. We ended up going back to his apartment and watching Ferris Bueler's Day off, finally catching a cab back home at 5:30 :-) So that was Saturday - 22 straight hours of New Yorkinating, starting with a bagel sandwich at Pax and ending with the morning light creeping up the sides of the buildings as the cab threaded it's way through the still-busy streets.

Sunday we met up around 9:30 and rode into Brooklyn for church. We had enough time to stop at Blue Sky Bakery, whose muffins Debs had been talking up for a long time. Turns out, Blue Sky is pretty much the coolest bakery in the universe, and you have not even conceived of the possibility for deliciousness in a muffin until you've had one of theirs! Their coffee is incredible, too. I got a T-shirt, which is also bangin, and the whole place was much cheaper and friendlier than the Manhattan places we'd been the previous days. I like Brooklyn.
Church was awesome, and was perhaps the highlight of the trip, just for the happiness of being near God. We hooked up with another Kings College girl who goes to City Church, got some chinese for lunch, and picked up my car, which was still safe and sound thank you Lord. Drive into the city, waited by the curb for people to bring all the bags down, packed up the Mazda, said our good-byes, and headed out into the rest of the world.

The drive home was the low point of the trip. I had the post-trip heartache pretty bad, plus I had been around tons of very driven, accomplished people in a moving-and-shaking city, and was feeling pretty frustrated with my life. More on that later. By the time I dropped the girls off and got back to the people-less, dog-less house, I was as low as I could be. AND I had to get up at 4:15 and go to work. Dark times. So after 0 hours of sleep, 5 hours of sleep and 3 hours of sleep, I hit the sack at 2am for a brief nap, and then on with the next day. A sour taste in my mouth after a trip that was packed with a lot of cool things and experiences. I'm glad it worked out, and I still love New York City and want to go back whenever I can.