Reading a site regularly gives you great insight into its habits and routines. The page, when consistently produced and consistently read, at least, can certainly have a personality. For example, when you see a hastily composed and carefully cropped photo — shot from the hip and edited for more than 11 seconds — like this …
… or another shot, with tint and flares like this …
Then you know we’re on the road. I suppose the long weekend was another clue. Anyway, we’re headed south for the Memorial Day weekend. Family, sun, good fun, some time by the pool, and … BARBECUE.
It is the little things — like slow slow-cooked meat — that you miss the most when you don’t have them close at hand in in abundant supply. But over the course of this trip, I’m getting barbecue at least twice.
And so we drove all through the afternoon, stuck in traffic at the Kentucky border, near a place where authorities are presently looking for an escaped murderer, and slowed down again several times north of Nashville because of the hour, picking up some ‘cue from Jack’s a proper little joint right there in the Gulch. We finally exited the interstate for exiting the interstate at a quiet little part of Tennessee, where the community is named as a portmanteau in honor of the guy who either influenced or bribed lawmakers to get the train to run through the area.
In the day’s dying light, we glided through 11 miles of a U.S. highway that, if you were ambitious, would carry you some 2,300 miles from where my sister is in North Carolina to a place in Arizona where no one I know is. We were racing daylight, because we still had 22 miles to go on a little county road up in the hills where the darkness comes early. You pass through towns that show up on a map, but not in real life. Then there’s the state line store, and the big right turn, past where some of my family is buried, on roads that seamlessly put you into another unincorporated place that stretches to each horizon before, finally, there’s a four-lane road straight and true, one more turn, and then there’s the warm light shining in my mother’s yard.
She’s got the hugs. We’ve got the barbecue. And that’s how we started the weekend.
I’ve been working on cleaning up the ol’ email. I use my inboxes as To Do lists, so the email count there never gets too high. Right now there are 20 emails in my inbox and that, to me, is too high.
The other side of the coin is that there are folders aplenty. And sometimes those need to be cleaned out, too. Anyway, today I was able to wipe out the last of the old communiques from a no-longer important folder. This was the graphic Google rewarded me with.
I’ve deleted the label name to protect the innocent, but seeing that … that was a good feeling.
And it was worth a giggle. But not the biggest giggle of the day. But you’d need several anecdotes worth of backstory and 71 words to be able to properly appreciate that one.
After all of that email fun, and other paperwork fun, I got out for a nice little bike ride this evening. It was an easy hour, just 17 miles and change before the dark clouds threatened.
More urgent was the absence of any legs. This, I told myself, was just one more ride to try to feel better in the hardest gears. It was the regular roads, but the third ride in the last six days, after a week or so being off the bike. Just — huff– getting — wheeze — my legs back.
It was an almost perfect ride, though. There are presently four criteria in this category of bike rides. First, it has to either feel super easy or incredibly hard. Second, no matter which of the first, I have to be able to exit the bike at the end with grace and ease. Third, my shoes stay in the clips for the entire ride, meaning I never have to put my foot on the ground. And, fourth, no close passes.
The first did not happen, because the sensations were mediocre throughout. I almost got the second one — but since the first criteria wasn’t satisfied, it doesn’t count, not really. The third one did happen. My feet stayed in the pedals the entire ride. And the fourth criteria was almost met, but for a truck just near the end of the route. Thanks, black pickup truck.
So, really, about one-and-a-half of the criteria were met.
We were trying to recruit, via text message, a colleague and friend to a particular cause this evening. It’s a poli sci, comm theory guy, but he might be professionally miscast. He’s an outdoors man, a keen student of nature. And now he is very much interested in, among other ecological things, the health of the insect world.
Like most serendipitously random conversations that can tolerate puns, I drove the initial joke of insect biodiversity in the media straight into the ground.
My lovely bride? She knows who she married.
We’re still trying to make up ground on the Re-Listening project. I’m listening to all of my old CDs in order, of course. That’s not the part where I’m behind. I’m behind in needlessly writing about it here for content filler — and embedded videos. So let’s get to it.
We’re in early 1999, contextually, listening to Duncan Sheik’s second record, the 1998 release, “Humming.” He’d gotten accidentally famous on his debut record, which “Barely Breathing” helped drive to gold record status, earned a Grammy nomination and stayed on the Billboard Hot 100 chart for a year. I vaguely recall an interview once where he talked about playing small clubs this week, and then giant theaters the next. I’ve always thought, on the basis of nothing more than that interview, I’ve always thought that this release was a deliberate choice to go the other way. Less obvious pop, more introspective art.
That’s the first track. The album title, I’m pretty sure comes out of these lyrics after the bridge. You’re also listening to the London Philharmonic Orchestra, which makes several appearances throughout the record.
Atlantic Records released this one as a single.
Didn’t really register on the charts, but it got him a guest slot on Beverly Hills, 90210.
This was the second single, and part of why I think choices were made on this record. Also, why couldn’t they get John Cusack in for this video?
Probably I’ve mentioned this before, but two lifetimes ago when I was a reporter and on the air everyday, I decided to replace vocal exercises with a few musicians. Duncan Sheik was one of those. And, for a time, this record was one of those things I played in my car a lot at 3:30 a.m. on my way to work.
I just rubbed my face, hard, at that memory. Evening typing “3:30 a.m.” made me tired. The point, though, memories of being ultra-sleep deprived aside, the vocal work Duncan Sheik does always impresses me. The man’s still got it, too. I ran across this cover a year or two ago.
These days, he’s not working as a touring musician, but he’s produced a lot of others’ work. There’s a lot of theater credits under his name — he won a Tony in 2007 — and you can find his music is all over movies and TV, as well. He won a Grammy the very next year.
He’ll appear in the Re-Listening project once or twice more, too. And he’s got about five more albums I don’t own, besides. And so I’ll add those to the list, too.
Up next on the list, musically speaking, another staple of the 1990s alt rock scene. But, first, the weekend!
It occurs to me, and matters to no one else, that I need to spruce up some of the site’s images. Some of the headers and footers on the blog should be updated removed, and the images on the front need a big refresh. I think I might get into some or all of that next week. I have, of late, updated a few of the mini-banners you see breaking up sections of each post. Some of those have already been implemented. Others will make their debut later this summer.
You could say that the blog’s aesthetic itself is due a refresh — I’ve run this WordPress theme for seven years, it seems — but I don’t know of a better look for what I’m (barely) doing here. Those rotating headers and footers, a bit of PHP echo code, are the key. Go ahead, click refresh a few times. You’ll always have a different look. There are, as of this writing, 107 different headers and 107 footers that surround these brilliant words. But you’re right, 107 is too many. That should get pared back.
The problem, he sighed, is that I use a basic numerical system for the numbering, which makes the PHP randomizer work better. So if I decided to remove, say, the 36th header, 37 must become 36, 38 must become 37 and so on, all the way up to 107. Errr, 106. This isn’t hard, but it can be tedious and leads to errors, which leads to restoring backups, which always feels more perilous than it should, even though my host is incredible. And all of that comes after the editorial angst. Sure, that trip to Washington was terrific, but is that cloud shot important enough, really, to keep in play? And I have to ask myself that 214 times?
Take this one, for example.
That’s from my former job, it has no meaning to me, but it’s supremely ridiculous, and so it survived the last cleaning. What was the point here? That they’d mastered the art of putting eyelets in cardboard stock? Showing they had a second font? Did someone have it out for sans serif and inconsistent stroke? They could now do full color? Were people missing the older 1960s-ish sign an inch above it?
That one, I’m sure, I shot for the specific purpose of making as header art. But what of other photographs? Easy enough to edit, I only look at them and wonder about the decisions I made when I hurriedly cropped them to fit the template. If editing them is easy, taking them out of rotation is harder.
I’d rather edit something I’d written — kill my babies, as writers say — than take photos out of the mix.
Of course, I have an entire folder of retired banner images, why do you ask? Why do I have an entire folder of retired banner images? Because, well, you never know.
We could get into the philosophical here, too, reducing the volume increases the penetration, but I’ve already written 500 words about … well … nothing.
I have a reorganization idea though, maybe I’ll implement that this summer.
In today’s installment of the Re-Listening project, 1998/1999-me picked up my copy of “March,” the 1989 debut album of singer-songwriter Michael Penn. I love this record.
The song you might remember is “No Myth,” which went to 22 on the Billboard Hot Adult Contemporary Tracks chart, number five on the Mainstream Rock Tracks chart, peaked at four on the Modern Rock Tracks chart, and hit number 13 on the Billboard Hot 100.
There are a lot of musicians’ musicians on this record, and most of Prince’s backing band are listed in the credits, too. Kenny Aronoff, who played with John Mellencamp and John Fogerty, and graduated from right here at IU, plays some of the drums.
I’m not sure if it was this record, or his next one, where I thought it would be neat to sit down for a few days and try to write things with him. I don’t normally think that about musicians. I enjoy the work, I might see the shows if it works out, but I never think, “What would happen if I, a person who has never written a song in his life, sat down with this person and a few notepads?” Except, fpr some reason, when I listen to a Michael Penn record. No idea why. Could be the clever lyrics.
The other reason, I think, was that I didn’t have that much going on whenever that idea came to mind.
As debuts go, this record shows so much promise and potential. Penn wasn’t exactly a new to all of this. He was in Doll Congress, which earned a nice following in Los Angeles. Half of the songs on this record he wrote during his time in that alternative band, which might explain the incredible varied, and engaging things he’s doing throughout this record. This is the last track.
A few other Michael Penn CDs will appear in the Re-Listening project sooner or later. These days, he seems to be spending his time producing others, and composing and scoring for TV shows and movies. In October of 2020, with no other work on his plate, he released a non-soundtrack song for the first time in years. Presumably he’s back at it again these days.
I was hoping I would discover he’s doing small venue gigs and that he was going to be in the neighborhood this fall, but alas.
Have a great weekend! I’m sure I’ll be here, muttering about banner images.
cycling / Friday / IU — Comments Off on Semester, wrapped 28 Apr 23
Today we wrapped up a production project that started, improbably, in the summer of 2021. The last day of the shoot was in one of our new studios, Studio 9. (The last shoot of the year for IUSTV was simultaneously taking place one floor down, in Studio 7.) In 9 we had faculty from the School of Public Health talking about their work.
Each person that came through was even better than the last, with their titles and dual appointments and achievement. Almost all of them would much rather be doing their work than talking into a camera about it. So, today and these last few weeks, we’ve been coaxing performances from these seriously impressive people.
A few of them have done some on-camera work. Some were able to accept the contrived nature of a video production with ease. But a few, a few of them were extremely trepidatious about the prospect. These are the ones that are actually a lot of fun. If they can just get through 10 minutes of this, they can stop dreading this thing they’ve been ducking for a while, and get on to their weekend and finals, to summer and research. They’re also the ones that take the best coaching.
One woman just raced through her mic check, like she was an air traffic controller who just finished her auctioneering course. I said straightaway, I can already tell, you’re going to want to slow down. She raced through her first take. I pointed it out. She slowed down for the casual parts of her second take, but again raced through the names and titles and terminologies. She tried once more and I stood next to the camera, just nodded my head along to her script, and she slipped into that rhythm. It was good fun.
One woman was so complimentary of our work with her, because of the coaching that we offered, the encouragement from our ace production students who were crewing the project, and how painless they made it. After one of her takes, I said to her, “I don’t know if you noticed it, but there was a place in there, an exact syllable, where you relaxed and everything slipped into place.”
One of the guys was very expressive. Someone said he was using his face well, and we decided he should keep using his face. Somehow, I have to work that into regular usage.
Anyway, next week I can take this project of the tote board. I figured, we’ve been slowly marching to this moment since June of 2021, I can stretch out the feeling of achievement for one more day.
Late this evening I took a bike ride, ticking one more Makuri Island stage off the list. It was just 27 miles, but it was late at night and I was moving fast. I set three new Strava PRs. I finished sixth on the first sprint, had the third-best time on the second and third sprints, and won a green jersey on the fourth sprint. (I am not a sprinter.)
Also, this was a scenic route. I could ride on roads like this all day, even if they’re just virtual.
There’s a charming little village to breeze through. If you go through at night the lanterns give off a great ambiance.
And then, just as soon as you leave that little digital village, you round a curve, and there’s a Mount Fuji facsimile.
The 2023 Zwift route tracker: 103 routes down, 26 to go.
