With a Hat and Hair From Bob Dylan Circa 1977

We were riding in the car the other day. This is not unusual we run around a great deal on the weekends. We run to the Farmer’s Market. We run to the recycling center. We run to the mega mart. We run to the pool. We run to pick up and drop off children. Sometimes it feels like we never stop running.

Back before the home computer died I used an older version of Roxio on it to create a ton of mix discs. They have names like the History of Rock #1, #2, #3. Some are simply called Road Tunes. Often if there is a beloved disc in the home collection it will get copied so that a.) The CD reader in the car will display the song titles and b.) So the master disc will not get dinged and thus become unplayable.

Saturday we were riding the other day with Primus in the back seat solo. Secundus was still at camp. Bopping down the road to a mix disc the opening strains of the song linked below came on. Without hearing more than the opening seed shakers at the start of the studio version he said “It’s Aztec Two Step-Dean Moriarity.” He then commenced to sing the whole song start to finish. When he knows the words he sings mostly in tune and has a pleasant voice.

It made me happy. At least part of the warm feeling was that he didn’t reject all of “my music”. Some of it was that he felt free enough in the confines of our car to sing along. Our rule is as long as you aren't being silly you can sing the song on the radio/CD player, period. This requires self editing for those Green Day songs.

I don’t know which of my children will be the next Dean Moriarity but I have no doubt that both have some of the basic traits.

Reasons to Like Lansing

 

When I was a child in South Jersey we stopped and shopped at roadside vegetable stands. This is were our produce came from, the local farms selling a part of there crops direct on routes so far off the beaten track and to not even qualify as blue routes. Lots of people had good sized gardens too. I am not saying it was healthier because there were lots of chemicals used on that stuff. Hey though, it was fresher and it had real flavors unlike the rubber ball tomatoes you find in stores today.

In the area where I live I have never noticed roadside stands to be as common as they were "back home". Up in cherry country there are some. Just outside of Elk Rapids there a couple stands that I really like. But these are the exception not the norm.

Over the years when I have wanted fresh produce I found myself shopping at the Lansing City Market. In a long standing building some years the market looked lively. Some years not so much. Over the past two years the market has moved. The space is smaller but for some reason it seems more vibrant. With a relocation to a new space the place seems to just be more inviting. If you haven't made the trip yet and if you are local, go do it.

Yup, the Lansing Market is another reason to like Lansing

The Portable Nietzche

 

Over the weekend I went into a book store. While there I found a dog eared copy of The Portable Nietzsche. It only took about half a page of reading and I had to buy it. In a letter to his sister he started talking about his search for truth. In essence the thing that caught me and sold me on the book was this quote. "Do we after all seek rest, peace and pleasure in our inquiries? No only truth, even if it be the most abhorrent and ugly."

My hope is that there is beauty and peace at the end of the search. But we must not be deterred if the answers point elsewhere. If we do not search ferociously and critically for truth we might as well take up the opium pipe.

From the No Good Deed Goes Unpunished File (or When did my Life Become a Seinfeld Episode?)

This was written yesterday. Sorry I took so long in posting it.

To quote Earl karma is a bitch.

Yesterday was my wife Francie's birthday. In the regard of duly noting the event I am a schmuck. While I did take her out to dinner I did not buy her flowers. Karma I tell you.

Like the cheap bastard I am I tried to pick up a bouquet at Sam's Club. There we were picking up some toilet paper the night before her birthday. I grabbed one of those cellophane wrapped bunches up by the check out. Romantic aren't I? No go. The “impulse” purchase was vetoed by Francie due to a perceived wilt factor.

On Thursday her actual birthday I tried to set up an ad hoc quick birthday dinner. Alas I couldn't find most of our friends. Michigan must be the new France. Nobody working in August and thus no one remains in town. Wait, no Michigan is the new dust bowl. No one is working at all ever because there is no way to make a living here. Everyone seems to be leaving to find work elsewhere. In Newfoundland they talk of having to go “away” for work. Sure seems like we’re living on a new version of the rock here. In the end I did find one wonderful person to join us.

Okay enough of the grim. When I got home last night, Thursday night, my son had taken in some flowers. These from him comments were due and owing to one of our neighbors. The flowers were unwrapped, no cellophane, no tissue paper, nada. A colorful array of red and white with some purple stuff and baby's breath they were delivered sans protection, what is that about? Our neighbors were apparently not home and thus there was a problem due to the continued heat here in the northern tier. In order to keep the small but elegant bouquet from wilting and conveying something less than joy to the recipient the flower delivery person knocked on our door and asked our son to hold the flowers for the neighbor. Primus agreed.

Looking at the flowers when I got home made me feel bad. I had not come through with the floral affirmation of love for my wife on her special day. Schmuck. Double Schmuck. I wanted this thorn in my side gone.

Well I did not get the opportunity to drop off the flowers right then. As soon as I got home Francie, Primus and I had to run to the high school to sign up for the chance for Primus try out for the hockey team. Try outs will not happen until November but all sports sign up is now to accommodate the only real sport that matters, football. We dashed to the school, we did the signing and then we rushed home. When we got home our friend was already there and any chance to deliver the flowers was gone. Jumping in our friend's car, just in case the birthday girl wanted to have a dinner drink, we headed out. Designated drivers are wonderful people.

Dinner was good. We had Italian at Bravo. The conversation was first-rate and the food full of flavor. However for all it highfaluting airs Bravo did not have the right dessert for this birthday celebration. We had to set out elsewhere to find....creme brulee. All in all last night shifting between several restaurants we shot three hours seeking and eating celebratory food. All in all the experience was wonderful. Francie seemed to really like the crème brulee we eventually found.

It was 9:30 when we got home. The flowers were glaring at me with their air of evil accusation. Francie and Primus said I had better deliver the flowers to our neighbor Kim.

Here is where the tricky part comes in. We live in the middle of a block and we have neighbors on both sides. The two couples who are quite different, but who are both are quite nice bear the exact same names. Both couples first names are John and Kim. That is right we have John and Kim to the right and John and Kim to the left. I asked Primus or rather he may have told me the flowers were for Kim of John and Kim to the right side of the house (henceforth John and Kim-right).

Dutifully I carried the flowers to the home of John and Kim-right feeling somewhat ashamed I had not done so earlier. (And then there was the whole schmuck thing going on in my head because I had not given my wife flowers-but I am not going to obsess on that anymore.) Hey the bouquet might be late but it was not wilted. I knocked. No answer. I knocked again and John-right came to the door. Taking the flowers from as I muttered something like,” these came today for your wife and you weren't home...” John-right smiled. Me, I dashed off. At least the floral irritant to my conscience was out of my life.

But no!

It was a beautiful day today temperature wise so I left the office early. After mucking about a bit in East Lansing I found myself in Mackerel Sky a wonderful gallery of artfully crafted articles for everyday life. To my non-Michigan friends here is the link, check it out. It is a great store and Tom and Linda are great people. http://www.mackerelsky.com/html_files/about_us.html Linda as usual was giving me guff when I came into the store. Linda is my source of inspiration for gifts when time is tight. Mackerel Sky is open until 3 p.m., on Christmas Eve. I have availed myself of its services and wares dashing in as late as 2:50 p.m., on December 24. It would emphasize how pathetic I am to admit I have done this on more than one occasion.

Anyway I had just gotten into the store and my cell phone rings. Francie was calling to tell me that she had just gotten an e-mail from Kim-left asking if we had gotten flowers for her yesterday. In a somewhat concerned voice Francie inquired if I had checked the address on the flowers before I had delivered them. Sensing that I had no problem here I said no, you told me they were for Kim-right. Ah not to be touched with guilt on this Francie said no, “Primus told you it was for Kim-right”. She again inquired if I had checked the address. A mere 10 seconds had passed and even if it had been more the answer would still have been no. I was simply doing what I was told. Then came the trump card, “You know your son can be a little distracted at times. It is part of who he is.”

Have you ever seen Pee Wee Herman (Paul Reubens) die in Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Here it is. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=giFoMYuy5b0 Owww, Ouch. Uhhhwwuh. Yeah the delivery of the flowers to the wrong address was on my head and I was feeling it. Francie at this point indicated she was deferring a few minutes before contacting Kim-left back. The delay was to allow me a way to figure out how to sort “my error” out. Yeah me!!!! Schmuck. This would never have happened had I sent my wife roses using ProFlowers. Really, I mean I am sure of this fact.

Dejected I hung up the phone and talked to the staff at Mackerel Sky. They were uniform in their agreement I was living a scene out of Larry David's life. Yup, they also indicated that this was really not my problem and perhaps I should contact the florist to set up a “make good” delivery. The communal logic was that it was the florist's error for the poor (really the absent) packaging and for leaving the flowers with my son. My actions were merely part of an inadvertent good natured bungle and retrieving the now day old flowers would not really be making the situation right.

As I left the store and proceeded to walk home the contacting the florist idea made sense. Using my iphone I looked up the number of the florist. It was local. With a local business involved telling them about the situation and setting up a “make good” delivery might be the best resolution. Wrong O Boyo.

When I tapped the screen and the number dialed I ended up being routed to a call center in Texas. The connection on the line was terrible. As I walked and talked I did eventually after repeated attempts convey the gist of the information to the clerk in Dallas or wherever she was. As I listened to the clerk I noted that her accent was so strong I found myself waiting for her to tell me to kiss off with Chief Brenda Lee Johnson's classic signature southern drawl infused line “Have a nice day” Click.

In the end the clerk did not tell me to kiss off and she indicated she would try and make arrangements for another drop off. To do this she needed a number for phone confirmation of delivery. She asked if I had Kim-left's number.

Looking in my cell directory I did not have Kim-left's number but I did have John-left's cell number. Giving her this number I chuckled to myself. It was clear to me that John-left wouldn't know what was going on when he got the call from the florist. Given what had happened this seemed par for the course. But at least I was doing the right thing.
Ah but the tale is not over yet.

As I walked down my street I saw the door to John and Kim-right's house open. I thought to myself ‘well I can at least explain what happened and in case the florist does not make good on the “make good” I can get the day old flowers and take them over to Kim left’. I knocked. I knocked again.

John-right eventually appeared. I started out with an “I have to apologize but I think I dropped off flowers to your wife last night that belonged to the other Kim.” At that point Kim-right came out of the hall going “Oh no, those were my flowers. They were a thank you from a former student”. I then explained that this state of facts was very weird. I went into how Francie had gotten a call from Kim-left indicating she that she thought we were holding some flowers for her. How odd was it I asked that we would have two deliveries of flowers to our house at the same time, one of which we could not account for.

At this point Kim-right said “Oh that must be my fault.” She then went on to explain that when she got home yesterday, after my group had gone looking for Italian food, see found a note saying something about there being flowers for Kim at 410 Ourstreet (not the real street name). Kim-right continued that her home had a lower number and so she assumed there must be flowers for Kim-left. As a result she then put the note on Kim-left's door. At this point I interjected that I lived at 410 Ourstreet and what the note had meant was that flowers were left for Kim at 410 Ourstreet not for Kim of 410 Ourstreet.

Giggles all around. Schmuck. Schmuck. Schmuck.

I decided that I would not call the florist back. I decided I would not call John-left back. What was the downside here? If the “make good” got delivered John and Kim-left get some joy (joy my wife did not get) by the delivery of beautiful flowers. Schmuck.

Geometry

The light falls in odd ways on the modern buildings we create. Using small pieces of granite and large pieces of darkened glass we make monuments to modernism. Sometimes I wonder if anyone still really tries to act upon the maxim of letting form follow function.

On an early summer morning the light hits the window of the House Office Building for the State of Michigan. Stand in the right position and you see a geometry of light that playing out along the concrete sidewalk. Nothing grand but waiting to cross a street the gently differentiated rays can be a mild diversion. Today I snapped a shot of the web of light and put it up above. Maybe the fact that this dance of light caught my attention enough to snap a picture shows a little of how my mind works that this game of light caught my eye.

Over the past week I have been working on a piece about working in a vegetable packing house when I was 14. The work lasted only a month or two but it really opened my eyes up to the layers of this world. The hours I spent were key in defining what I wanted in life, that is to be doing something other than manual labor and to be somewhere other than New Jersey I want to get the piece right.

Writing this story is both hard and easy. I remember splintered bits and pieces with great, great clarity. But other parts are large soft fluffy clouds of feeling that I just can’t get my mind around so as to conjure words to capture what I want to say. I wrote a couple of pages of narrative and then stopped. Right now I am just writing vignettes about people and things associated with the place. In a few more days I will go back and try and integrate everything into a whole. We will see what happens.

Enjoy the geometry of daybreak.

Musical Interlude

I like Death Cab for Cutie and the Postal Service. Here is a link to a live concert recording of Ben Gibbard the lead singer for each of these bands. I liked the cover of the Donovan song at the start and Silhouettes a little later on.

http://www.archive.org/details/bengibbard2007-05-09.flac16