I hear the window shade, I hear the silence break

Just shot off about twelve emails in reply to inquiries about the room we're renting. I put up an add on Craigslist last night and immediately got a welter of responses. Some good prospects, but we'll know better once we start meeting these people, which will be soon. Should be interesting. Foley met an ex-girlfriend of his interviewing for an apartment. I'll just be happy if we get someone who doesn't shit on the floor.

In other news...

As I was writing the top paragraph, I felt a heavy, almost overwhelming, vibration course through my body. I let it pass and didn't meditate on what I thought it was. I didn't say to myself in a cowering, weakened voice "Oh no, I'm dying! Am I dying?". Well, in the interest of full disclosure, I did kind of think something along those lines. Initially, though, and I got past it. I only bring it up because the older, younger, version of myself (how's that for a paradox?) would have made the situation worse, would have blown it up into something it wasn't, like I was on the verge of doing earlier today during a run when I almost got struck by a kid hauling ass on his bike. I'm talking full throttle! Right in the chest, I would have taken the impact. Probably would have killed me, and if I did survive, I would have been hospitalized for sure. It scared me, and, as I was replaying the event in my mind while layering outrage in thickening strips upon the scene, another voice appeared, counseling me to let it go. Immediately let it go. It happened, it's done. The kid didn't mean it, you're okay. You should be happy. You should be jumping for joy that you emerged unharmed. You should know how fortunate you are.

I didn't stop thinking about the incident until a few minutes later, but stop I did. I wasted valuable minutes of my time, of my life, stewing over something I had no control over. I could have gone on and on in my unconsciousness. I'm glad for the voice that awoke me. I saw clearly how self-centered we are, how entitled we think we are. I narrowly escaped getting slammed into by a speeding bike and all I could feel was abashed, angered.

Oh, and I have have no idea what that business with my body vibrating was all about. Maybe I sensed a disturbance in the force. I'm not even joking - it's possible that I did.

Watched The Office tonight. A good one and layered. It will stand up to repeated viewings, I have no doubt. Just like this post. Seriously, come back to it in about a week; you'll see that I'm right.

You are the law, the long hard road, grave inevitable destiny

A quick post, but it'll have to do. What's been on my mind? Let's see.

1. Been listening to The Roches a lot. I love their strangeness. I hardly expected to learn so much from them, but I have. Principally, I've been reminded what a joy music can be.

2. I've decided Lowell George is my current guitar hero.

3. Been rotating a few knew songs around. Sometimes they come in bunches. Trying to keep focused on them so that they may see completion while maintaining a flexible attitude. One of the knew songs is going to have the word rictus in it. Don't know in what context - I just love the word. It's a good one.

4. Watched Herzog's My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done. One word: Hell-Yes-Son!


5. Had a dream that woke me up at five in the morning. I'll spare you the details. Another romp through the woods of my subconscious. Mandy, the dog of my youth, was with me.

6. I just had a thought of honey-baked ham. Now I'm hungry. No ham for me, though.

7. I like this new Celtics line up. Looking forward to the upcoming season. A lot of depth and Shaq is in residence. How can you not get excited about that?

Everyone will start to cheer, when you put on your sailing shoes

Today kicked my ass and, consequently, I am beat. I spent the entire day at the Registry of Deeds in Cambridge trying to get a mortgage and a ton of other documents on record for Jeff. He had a closing this morning and, in his words, "These documents HAVE to get on record today".

Fine with me, but this whole affair was so convoluted - there were about twelve documents for this one property - I won't even bother trying to explain it. Just know that I had to record in the Registered Land dept., which is old school and by the books. One document on a single piece of paper might take them a half hour to record. And there I was with a stack of documents that were complicated and needed to.....aw, I don't have the energy for even a small explanation.

Anyhow, the docs were rejected, which set off a string of calls back and forth to the office. The clerks at the registry aren't allowed to speak to anyone over the phone, so I was the middle man between Jeff and the clerk. "Why can't they accept the Trustee's Certificate if it has the same language as the Affidavit?", Jeff would ask. And the clerk, who was not hiding how pissed she was that she got stuck with me, would respond "Because you need a Chapter 184 signed by the seller's attorney and blah, blah, blah"

This type of thing went on all day. Everyone I talked to at the Registry told me they couldn't accept these documents and Jeff kept telling me to try harder to find out exactly why they couldn't. Not an easy task, especially considering I had little or no idea about the documents in question. I had no idea what a Chapter 184 was. Jeff kept telling me the docs had to get on record today, but he failed to understand I couldn't make them put them on record. Maybe if I had a gun, but I left it in my glove box.

Eventually, near the end of the day, the technical advisor, who was one of the few helpful people I dealt with, worked out a way we could get on record. Phew! It took almost two hours to record all the docs, but they were recorded. The whole process was taxing. I can't tell you how many times I had to run up and down various stair cases to retrieve faxes and what not. Oh, day, I'm glad you're done. All's well that ends well.

My lunch was at the office, so I didn't eat or drink a thing until supper. I practiced some yoga after work and did some laundry. Now, after I wrap this up, I am going to slip into a vegetative state. Oh, The Office is on. That might perk me up.

If you go down to Hammond, you'll never come back

Saw Mara last night. It had been a while. Not a terribly festive evening. She's been in the grips of depression for a while now and, apart from listening to her and trying to cheer her up, there is nothing else I can do for her. She's been through this before; she's gone to therapy, taken meds. I can relate to her condition only so far. I've had my spells, my dark nights of the soul, but nothing that's stuck around and taken full control of my life. Hell, even during my worst days, I've always retained an appetite. Mara could barely eat last night and has had trouble sleeping. This has been going on for over a month. I wish her well.

I'm pretty tired. Went to the dentist after work followed by a vigorous run. It's been so damn muggy the last couple of days; the run was taxing at times and positively sweat-inducing. Worth it, though.

Listening to The Roches constantly. Makes me happy, it does. Such a fun record, that first one, and a joy to sing along to. And, oddly enough, Robert Fripp produced and played guitar on it. Guess it's only odd if you know who Robert Fripp is. If you're curious, Google him. I ain't got time for a biography, son!

Over the last couple of days, it hasn't felt right being alone. For example, I'll be getting ready for bed and it will feel strange that I'm getting in bed alone, as if it's a new thing. Strange. Maybe I'm on the verge of a relationship. If so, well, that would sure be swell! It's about time. I'm sick of being a perpetual solo act. Come on, ladies, give this fellow a chance. He's not too repulsive and he'll sing you a song.

Watched a bit of True Blood last night. Had no idea what was going on because I jumped right into the middle of the series. I don't usually do that, but I wanted to get a feel for the show to see if it was worth diving into. Seemed kind of cool, but kind of melodramatic. A lot of yelling and posturing. One vampire, named The King, took another vampire and his girlfriend (?) hostage. He let another vampire, who seemed to have a history with the kidnapped vampire, torture him. The girlfriend hung out with the King, who tried to get her to tell him about her powers. And then there was another vampire who seemed like a bad guy with a heart a gold. Like Sawyer in Lost. Oh, I don't know - I was so confused. Maybe I'll Netflix season one and see where it takes me.

Early night for me. Going to watch a mini documentary about a guy in Australia's experience with a Yowie, their equivalent of Bigfoot. Already watched part one. Very interesting. This guy seems very credible. Ok, nowI'm out.

At times I see you, you silver rider, sometimes your voice is not enough

Kind of a shitty week, but I think I've handled it pretty well. I'm understanding, and, for the most part, applying, the importance of staying in the moment, being alert, not letting thoughts run rampant. To get by in this world, it's a fortunate thing to favor bending over breaking. Staying flexible got me by.

What caused this week to be shitty? Well, you can chalk it up to several unsavory things manifesting almost at once. Computer troubles, money troubles, weird social hiccups, and a welter of small, gnat-like, troubles that in concert became a formidable foe. Felt like I was on the precipice of complete disaster, still does a bit, but, as I said, I was flexible throughout

Listening to Inara George's collaboration with Van Dyke Parks. Beautiful, sophisticated, highly listenable. Parks is one of my all-time favorite composers. Anytime I hear about him scoring an album, especially if it's an artist or band I already like, I check it out in short order. His work with The Beach Boys, Joanna Newsom, Rufus Wainwright, and his solo work has been nothing short of brilliant. And Inara, being the daughter of Lowell George, has the pedigree, not to mention the chops, to keep up with Van Dyke. And, keeping it in the family, I've been listening to Little Feat's Sailing Shoes.

Also been listening to Robert Plant's Band of Joy. Was impressed with his collaboration with Allison Krauss and am no less so with this album. And then there's The Roches. Love them! Can't believe it took me this long to discover them. Three sisters combining folk, barbershop, shades of punk, and pop. An interesting cocktail and it works. Their first album is fantastic. It's fun - a lot of the lyrics are about everyday things like wishing you had your old job back, even though you hated it.
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Rich is finally moving out. He told me last weekend. Moving to Colorado. I'm glad he's moving, for everyone's sake. Janelle and I had just been talking about how difficult it's been living with him. Lately, he's been particularly withdrawn and negative and has a couple of tantrums. That, coupled with the fact that he barely, if at all, contributes to the upkeep of the house, had him on the chopping block. I'm glad we didn't have to kick him out. He's not an evil guy, just troubled, and it would not have been enjoyable asking him to leave. I'll have to write a retrospective of my time living with Rich. I can assure you that it will be interesting. He's an odd dude. In the meantime, we need to start looking for a roommate.
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The season premier of Dexter is on tonight. Will have to order the channel. Might have Pat and Allie come by to watch. Maybe Spira, too. After plowing through the dvds of the last season, I'm ready to dive back in. Been watching season 3 of Mad Men. I don't think I say a bad thing about that show. It's so well done; I savor every scene like a fine wine.

With that, I should get my day started. Might see what Mara is up to, but will probably putter around and work on some music. Who knows.

If my wings should fail me Lord, please meet me with another pair, so I can die easy

Don't really feel like posting tonight, but I don't feel like doing much of anything else, so here I am. At work yesterday, I felt the beginning of a cold coming on. Sore throat, clogged sinuses. Fuck! I was hoping it was just an allergy or sinus issue and would go away quickly. I went for a run after a work, just to show this malady that I wasn't going to let it have its way with me. It was a good one, too. Everything felt good except my head, which was just plain heavy and clogged.

I feel better today, but I'm not myself. Don't like it. I have no defined mood. I'm ambivalent about everything. Maybe I should just call it a night.

Heard "Highway To Hell" twice in a half and heard a couple of Bad Company tunes in the same time span (I feel like maaakiinng love tooo youuuu!). Regarding the former, I wonder, superstitiously, if it's a sign I'm destined for hotter climes. There were other repeat moments today, but I can't conjure what they were. One of those days. I heard "HighwayTo Hell" and a couple of Bad Company tunes twice today. I question whether it's some kind of sign that I'm Hell-bound. There were other repeat moments today, but I can't remember them right now.

There are topics to cover, there is news, but I'll save that for another time. I'm no good to anyone right now. Nothing for it but to throw some headphones on, dim the lights, and listen to Physical Graffiti.

If you want a do right, all day woman, you've got to be a do right, all night man

It is Sunday morning and I'm sipping at my coffee, mulling over what shape my day should take. Should I go full tilt and engage in activities that will leave me exhausted and broken, worn and limp? Or should I take the advice of no less an authority than God and honor the sabbath by treating it as a day of rest. I'm not going to lie to you, I'm leaning towards the latter option. I've got some Tom Waits ballads broadcasting from my speakers. I am content. Next up: Edith Piaf.

Rest would be fine. The days leading up to and including the wedding were rather hectic, but entirely manageable, especially compared to what the bride and groom must have gone through. And poor Janelle: her week had been a whirlwind that would have left those with less mettle than she whimpering in the corner. She pulled through.

The wedding was communal and festive, replete with touching and humorous moments. In other words, just the way you'd want a wedding to go. I rode up with Kreg, Pat, and Allie. Kreg did the driving (Pat and Allie don't own a car and mine was lacking operational headlights) and despite our best efforts, we arrived to the church a half hour late. Traffic, among other things, was the cause. We walked into the church, which was grand and expansive, right as the priest said "You may now kiss the bride". Good timing.

Even when it was evident that we were going to be late, I didn't feel so bad about it. Maybe I should have, but knowing it was a catholic wedding and that they're often long, drawn out, affairs, I was confident we'd only be missing out on a portion of it. In the interest of full disclosure, I should note that ever since I was a wee lad, I've never been enthusiastic about church, but you should know that the prevailing reason I didn't feel too bad about being late was that I was trying, in the tradition of eastern thought, to live in the moment and not get hung up on things outside of my control. The man upstairs shouldn't find fault with that. I guess I'll find out eventually.

Immediately after the ceremony, I hopped in Janelle's car and we headed over to the reception in Pelham. Nice place. Rolling lawn, gazebo, a bar set up outside - picturesque. An area by the bar was designated for the musicians. We weren't there long before we were called up to play. Not sure how well the song went over, pretty good I think, but the only thing that mattered to me was being up there with Janelle and the pride I felt hearing her sing. She was wonderful.

I played another song by myself and halfway through it, I recognized a former coworker of mine. I hadn't seen Christy since our Brookstone days, which was years ago. I had thought about her only a few days prior, going as far as looking her up, unsuccessfully, on FaceBook. Interesting. Fortunately, she was a coworker I got along with, so seeing her wasn't a bad thing.

She approached me afterward and we caught up a little. As we spoke, I recalled why I got along with her so well. While very disciplined in her professional life, Christy has an endearing flakiness about her that separates her from the pack. Throughout our conversation, there were moments I felt like I was talking to Annie Hall. La dee da. Nice reconnecting with her.

In the dining room, Shane's dad Skip sat with an acoustic guitar and sang "Even Though We Ain't Got Money" with his daughter, while Shane danced with his mother (His own mother, not Skip's mother. I could have structured that sentence better). Very sweet and touching. Janelle made me laugh when she asked if my father would do the same thing at our wedding. "That would be positively surreal", I replied. At the risk of my evening taking too strange a turn, I abolished the thought of my father serenading me and went about the business of having fun.

Years ago at my friend Tony's wedding, they did that thing where all the married couples get on the dance floor and throughout the song, the DJ says things like "Will any couple married less than ten years get off the dance floor". Well, Janelle and I, unmarried, got on the dance floor and outlasted nearly everyone. It was worth it if only to see the strange looks we were getting. Well, we did the same at this wedding - it is kind of a tradition, after all - and, while we didn't stay out there too long, we did have some fun with it. Kevin's little girl, Bella, danced with us. We formed a ring and every so often, Bella would twirl.

Janelle. It occurred to me later, back at home getting ready for sleep, how effortless my relationship with her is. I feel such a deep closeness to her, such a kinship, that it sometimes surprises me when I think about it. Like I did after the wedding. I mused over how essential she is to me, how important. I feel more at ease around her than I do with almost anyone else. So much is subtle, like how at the wedding if she wasn't around I'd look up to see where she was. Subtle. Janelle, I adore and love you so much. Thank you for being in my life.

An all-star lineup of friends that night. And I got to sit with a good lot of them at the table: Scott, Tracy, Ray, Mike, Kristen, Kreg, Pat, Allie, and Janelle. Most of them I've known almost my entire adult life. We don't always get to see each other, but when we do it's always a good time.

Shane and Jennie are married. I'm thrilled for them. The last dance at the reception was to AC/DC's "Big Balls". We all circled around the couple as they danced gaily, triumphantly, and before long, they invited the lot of us to join them. Many of us did. And we've got the biggest balls of them all.
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Spira came by with Missy last night and we watched the last episode of Dexter. Wow! Can't wait for the next season to begin. Today, I watched an episode of Mad Men. Forgot how well-written and well-acted this show is. Actually, it's well-everything. Oh, I love this show.

Enough of me. Practiced yoga earlier and cleaned the house. I guess I didn't end up resting too much, but still, it was a relaxing day. On to Monday.