memories


10
Sep 25

Let the wind blow back your hair

Worked in the home office this morning and early afternoon. Then we drove to the train station, where I saw this sign.

The people putting that sign together, and installing that art on the train platform, must have done all of that during off hours. What doesn’t feel right to me is the woman who watched videos on her phone at full volume for the better part of an hour.

Fortunately her stop was before ours, and we had blissful silence for 17 seconds. At the same stop, a woman got on the train, mid-phone conversation, speakerphone, full blast. It’s a common complaint of modern life: the loss of social graces, and headphones. I’ve nothing new to offer the conversation, and this isn’t playing through a loud speaker, so no one could hear it anyway.

We had dinner at The Alderman, the pre-theater dinner special, a four-course meal and you pick the two in the middle. I had a brightly tart, almost citrus salad with a lot of arugula. And then this half chicken which was drenched in grilled lemon juice.

It was all quite tasty. And now I want it again.

Then we went to the nearby Radio City Music Hall.

This was my first trip there. And it occurs to me that they should probably offer tours. Probably a half-hour walkthrough would be a decent draw. I’d think you could see and learn a few interesting things.

It turns out that they offer daily 60-minute tours! I hope it includes the chance to sing a little song or dance a jig on the stage.

Here’s the iconic sign, as you walk across the intersection. Yes, I will stop traffic in New York City for a photograph of neon. Fortunately, the people there are all very nice and understanding and accommodating.

Playing there tonight, Melissa Etheridge and the Indigo Girls. We saw them late last summer, and they were close enough, so we caught them again. Etheridge opened the show. She’s 64 and less dramatic (her word) but she still commands a stage, still has all of her power and can command absolute control of a venue. I had the first six or seven records on a variety of cassettes and CDs, but moved on somewhere along the way.

When we saw her last year, she did a dynamite cover of Joan Armatrading on the piano. And maybe, she had not been successful, Etheridge would have been the best cover singer you’ve never heard of. She does a killer Billy Joel cover and here, she’s mixing one of her own songs with a bit of her idol, Bruce Springsteen for a “The Letting Go – Thunder Road” medley.

And it hit.

  

Really fun show, wonderful venue. Took the subway to the train and the train to the car and then the drive home. Late night, long day tomorrow. And I’ll put up something from the Indigo Girls then.


8
Sep 25

Week two, what it do?

We are now starting week two of the term and in another week or so, he said foolishly, everything will settle and click into place.

Also, the first things to grade are filtering in this evening.

The good news is that every day this week is more or less scheduled. Reading today, class tomorrow, grading tomorrow and Wednesday, class on Thursday, meetings on Friday. Maybe the better news is that the work of preparing for the week is all done. So it’s just a matter of seeing it through! Seeing the whole week through.

Here’s a weekend neighborhood sunset. I was coming back from picking up takeout.

We had Indian. I enjoyed the lamb vindaloo. Quite tasty. Not as plentiful as it was, before shrinkflation hit. Previously, this would have been dinner and lunch. Now it’s dinner, and about one extra bite — which means just a little more dinner.

Here’s a road I rode on this evening’s bike ride. The road just goes up and up.

Or just up. But not even that. It’s flat here, and after that curve you pretty quickly get to the overpass and that’s the big geographical feature. I probably couldn’t climb a real hill anymore if I tried. (I did the one climb in Switzerland this summer, the tot de splitsing, a hot, slow, grinding mess. One mile, 500 feet, danger at every pedal stroke. The danger being, Can I stay upright at this low a speed? So maybe I can still do one hill. Not sure I could do two…)

Phoebe doesn’t not have much faith in my climbing abilities, either. She’d rather put her head on the underside of a foot than see me struggle up a proper hill.

And Poseidon, well, he’s a fan of going to higher up places.

There are a few things in my home office that I don’t want him on, which of course demand his immediate and perpetual attention. We have the same disputes three or six times a day. But, this weekend, I had that big bin on the floor, and the basket full of towels and sheets, and I think I’ve found a way to keep him off the bookshelves.

So the cats, you can see, are doing great. But only if they get their required amount of pets this week. We’ll see.


3
Sep 25

Two strikethroughs

Visited a new dentist today. This was after making an appointment in the spring. And about four days of text messages asking, over and over and bloody over to confirm the appointment. After which the emails started. And, each of them asking you to pre-register.

The things a dentist’s office now asks new patients customers these days is positively invasive. More so than most of the tools on that rolling stainless steel cart, even.

This place is a big operation, and they’re operating in an old house, which is pretty customary around here. This one is a sprawling joint. It was difficult to find the exit when my perfunctory appointment was complete.

They took about 45 x-rays. How my brain still works, I don’t know. She said I had good teeth. Here’s the new gimmick. You go in for a checkup, but then you have to go back for cleanings. We’re not doing separate appointments for each every six months.

But otherwise, it was fine. I really, really, really don’t care for hands in my face. It’s not the dentist, or the dentistry. It’s the personal space. It’s the hands.

And also the realization that this is about selling you things as much as health care. Our previous dental expert always had something to offer you, and it was all vital and grim. But it was never the same thing twice. A few years in, you start to notice.

I had a nice late evening ride. It was just 21 miles, around the extended neighborhoods, if you will. All of it was familiar, but I tried to do things in different orders.

Here’s the sod farm, I ride by here in one direction or the other quite frequently.

And here’s some of the ubiquitous corn, and my shadow selfie.

This pasture is always empty, as far as I can tell.

Here are a few of my old friends.

And some of my newer friends.

Finally, my racing buddy. When I go down his road we often chase one another. A nice break, I guess, from his job herding the sheep.

Sometimes I win. Sometimes he wins. He must have somehow known I was coming today. He got a head start and I couldn’t pass him let him win.


1
Aug 25

pop-pop-pop

“You should treat yourself to a ride today. It’s pretty spectacular out there.”

My lovely bride had already been out and about. I was sitting still and reading the morning news. But when your beloved encourages you to do a thing, you do a thing, and that’s how the personal revolution began today.

The first day of August is the academic’s traditional day of “What have I done with my summer?!?!” panic. The fall term comes into focus and there’s a lot to do, and it’s a scramble until May. But I’ve been doing some work of late, and today just didn’t feel like it. It was, I was told, pretty spectacular out there.

So I went to the library.

The local public library — which is staffed entirely by volunteers and open for 28 hours a week, but only 24 per week in the summer, which asks you to pay $2 for a card which is provided “Compliments of” a bank in a different town altogether — called yesterday to tell me they’d received a book I’d requested through the interlibrary loan.

Libraries, if you’ll let them (which is to say, if you go more than once) are magical places. But, really, the ILL system lets everything come to your library, even if you have but a small library in your town. About once a year, this time of year, I avail myself of the library for an easy fiction read. (Most things I read throughout the year are news, work-related or history. But there’s always something easy and/or breezy if you’re willing to be seen checking out such a thing.)

So I did that. I’ll read it this weekend, and the revolution will be over and it’ll be back to work on Monday. Or possibly Sunday evening.

I came home and, because it was spectacular, I treated myself to a bike ride. It was blue-gray out. The UV was only a 3. The temperature was 78. After I’d worked up a sweat it felt almost coolish outside. (This is different than the brief bout of cold you might feel with heat exhaustion. It was purely damp clothes, damp skin, and 20 mph winds.

There was one place where, on a straight road, I passed a house with a flag, a restaurant with parking lot flags, and a fire department with two flags. In that brief span, and it couldn’t have been any greater a distance than two city blocks, if you were in a city, the flags were blowing in three different directions.

It was not the fastest ride, but the one place I really tried I easily set a new Strava PR, so there’s that.

After that, it was time to go to the yard. It was time to pick up sticks from yesterday’s storm. Mostly it was just that, five-six, pick up sticks. The magnolia did fine.

But there’s a branch in another tree that will have to come down. Eventually. Somehow. It’s a little high up.

Our poor trees stand no chance in these winds. This weighs heavily upon me.

Then again, a lot does these days. How could it not?

We were trying to count, and we believe this is the fourth time we’ve seen Guster this year now. They just play around us a lot. Or, we are in a place where they do a lot of shows. If it is four times this year, then it’s seven times since we moved here. They’re close by, it’s a good show, so why not go?

It is important here to say I’ve seen these guys play, off-and-on, for more than a quarter of a century now. It’s become a joke, who has opened for them. They sell custom-shirts that they’ll print at the venue, so you can make yourself known as a hipster by signifying which Grammy-winner-to-be you saw with them. I think Jump, Little Children might have opened for them the first time I was able to catch a show. (Unless I’m forgetting an even earlier one.) All of which is to say, they are a fun band and they do terrific fan work and it doesn’t always sound exactly like their studio stuff. But, in all of those years, or the last four year shows this year, or any show I’ve seen of theirs in six or seven states, they don’t seem to do a lot of ad lib jams.

But, tonight, I just happened to be holding my phone at the right time for this little diddy.

  

Look how much fun they’re having! That may be the best part of the whole thing.

The Mountain Goats opened for Guster. This past year I’ve suddenly heard a lot about The Mountain Goats. When this show came up I thought I should learn about The Mountain Goats. But then I got distracted and, finally, I decided, just find out live. And I’m glad I did. I understand what everyone is talking about. I mentioned this on Bluesky.

Finally got to see @themountaingoats.bsky.social.

I understand what everyone was saying. I get it now.

[image or embed]

— Kenny Smith (@kennysmith.bsky.social) August 1, 2025 at 8:05 PM

One of the guys in the band wrote me back, right after the show was over. That was about the point when I was looking over their catalog: 22 studio albums, four compilation albums, three live albums, not to mention many EPs and demos that are floating around out there. That’s a lot to contemplate. I don’t think I need to be a completist here, but there’s not enough time in the day to learn where to pick up on something new that’s already so robust. (It’s concept albums everywhere and sequels decades on and so on.) Where to even begin?

And then the guy in the band gave me album recommendations.

So that’s nice. And just as soon as I get through three other musical stacks of things I’m doing … I’ll be doing this.

They’ll have pumped out nine more albums by then.

Anyway, we’re contemplating seeing them again Monday night, because they’ll all be close by again. And why not? Also, Monday, it’s back to work. And I’ll share one or two other videos from this show. (One including The Mountain Goats.) And then, Tuesday, it is working on campus. Meetings and everything.

And, Wednesday, I’ll start making syllabi. Then it gets real.

Unless it is pretty spectacular out again.


29
Jul 25

Three simple steps

I made myself a new phone background. It’s easy and fun. And this one was good, so I thought I’d share it, in case you needed a new look. I found this on a wall in California in March of 2024. It seemed like really good advice. Still does. So click this photo, download the thing, you’ll have one hastily made wallpaper ready to go.

I had to do a little scrolling to find that photo. The energy levels were different in 2024 than they are in 2025. Gee. I can’t, for the life of me, imagine why that is.

Should try to work on that.

Anyway, the kitties are taking this mantra to heart. Here’s Phoebe, doing the relaxing.

And here’s Poseidon, doing the enjoy portion on both a chair and a little end table. It started out as a lunchtime cuddle, but this was better, I guess. Well, he enjoys it.

Neither of them have a problem with the repeat part of this life approach.

OK, back to my work studies. This meeting prep won’t do itself.