I’ve been working on my trauma interview syllabus. I have a small stack of books and, so far, a half dozen pages of notes and ideas, this first part all about the considerate efforts one should undertake in the interview approach and process, and it is all quite fascinating,.
There are a few industry pros holding workshops with their peers on this sort of thing now. Anyone that’s had to do enough interviews following death notifications, or asked by their editors or producers to sit down with abuse or attack survivors has the beginning of this insight. Right now, though, it is hard-won experience handed down from people who are, most often, not practiced in psychology.
I can almost quote, verbatim, what I was taught about this in J-school, because it was quite brief. A professor said. “You’ll be told to interview someone who’s just lost a loved one. Ask the family members politely if they’d be willing to talk to you. Some people will want to talk with you. Some people will think you’re horrible. Accept whichever response you get, and know it isn’t personal.”
And that was it. It was the nineties.
There’s a lot more to this, a lot more particulars that students should understand. (There was never anything said, nothing at all, about the trauma reporters face and self-care.) If you think of the stories that reporters chase. Think of the places they often find themselves, this stuff will come up for them, and in a hurry.
That’s why I’m cobbling notes and dreaming up a syllabus. It could be useful, and so I look forward to pitching it. I hope I get to teach it one day.
Anyway, the office all day. The studio all night. Sports night there, so there was a lot of baseball talk. It’s the changing of the guard portion of the year. The seniors are getting ready to fly the coop, and the younger students are getting all the heavy lifting. What’s always amazing to me is how, each year, the rising seniors are all just that much better prepared, just that much more comfortable, for their new, bigger roles than the people that came before them.
And while those graduating seniors are now going over details of their contracts or are engaged in in-depth interviews, we’ve got rising sophomores who are ready to take on the world, to say nothing of some rising juniors who are industry ready, right now.
The day-to-day stuff is fine enough, but watching and charting that progress of students, following them as their skills, and their confidence, grows, that’s gratifying stuff.
I always feel like this in the springtime, the bloom of pride in the observation of self-recognition. It’s probably something to do with the flowers.
Today started last night, at 10:55, because I checked my email at 11:32 p.m. And then the day began anew just before 8 a.m. with what had to be the loudest clap of thunder not recorded directly below a lightning bolt. A bit later, I drove past a duplex that was fully ablaze. First, I saw a big plume of smoke, around a curve. When I drove by, a quarter-mile or so later, the police had just arrived. The roof of the building was already gone.
The local paper tells us that the residents were evacuated and no one was hurt. But it was a substantial fire, taking the BFD about three hours to put it out.
At work, work stuff, and the view was this:
A perfect day for more jazz!
At this prolific rate of the Re-Listening project, we are now only three CDs behind, and as I’m working my way through this in the order of acquisition, I know we are somewhere in 1998 right now. Acquisition is an important term here, because this is one of those that I impulsively picked up from a giveaway table. It is a sampler, and I can find no reference to this compilation on the web which is … weird.
So, look out the window, stare at the rain drops or the sunshine or the stuff in between, and press play. Or, if you don’t have exceptional peripheral vision, press play, and then stare out the window.
Tony Gil has one of those voices that makes you wonder why you haven’t heard of him. And after 10 minutes of searching, I wonder why I can’t find out much about him. I can tell you this song appears on the Felix Grant tribute record, which won The Washington Area Music Association’s album of the year. No small feat there, as it is an organization that represents the whole area.
Paula West has been singing for three-plus decades at this point, she’s still singing across the country and the record on which “Peel Me A Grape” appeared recently got a retrospective review from The New Yorker.
I’ve confessed to my inability to properly appreciate or express anything about jazz music. But when I think of what a jazz singer should sound like, I always hear Cleve Douglass in my head. If there was nothing else on this sampler, there would be that.
But there’s a lot more! There’s Mark Rosier. On the record that spawned this song, an independent release, he played all of the guitars, all of the piano, all of the keyboards and some of the percussion. Born in New York, he found himself in Texas by way of Florida, and then charmed the locals and the tourists with his music across the White Mountains in New Hampshire and in clubs in Maine. He died in 2020, after a long bout with cancer.
Everything on this CD is worth a listen, and I wish I could share the whole thing with you. But, instead, here’s the track listing. Pick out some of these things and dig for them.
Tony Gil – I’m Old Fashioned
Maua – Devil May Care
Pam Bricker – Long As You’re Lookin’ Good
Paula West – Peel Me A Grape
Cleve Douglass – Woman
Hinda Hoffman – I Just Found Out About Love
Donna Smith & The Vintage Jazz Quartet – Get it Straight
Valucha – Voce
Sally Richards – Old Devil Moon
Jass Street Station – El Ritmo de Amour Fred Sokolow Jazz Quarter – Delilah
Karen Moore – What a Little Moonlight Can Do
Tony Gil – No Me Platiques Mas
Suzy Nelson – Am I Blue Rose Russo – Uptown Baby
Mark Rosier – I’m Just a Memory
Steve Bulmer’s Kinetic Jazz Band – Just Friends
I was on that last track, from Steve Bulmer — who, today, teaches bass at UConn — and wondering if people have spent the time and effort to create some of universally accepted spectrum of jazz. You know, ranging from the deeply important things I’ve never heard of all the way across to the stuff you might hear at a grocery store, or on hold music. There have to be lists like this, and most of them not at all derivative. And where, I wondered, would I place some of these songs, because they are just different enough. The originals, the covers, the playful stuff, the smooth and easy and the best representations of the art form, all of it. Or most of it anyway. And where would I slot in this song or that song? Then I heard the jazz violin, and now I have a new rabbit hole to explore.
The rain moved out late in the afternoon and the clouds, which hung around for a few hours, thinned. Suddenly, the light went from diffuse to directly sunny, and then it was time to go into the studio. On the third of four late days this week, I left just in time to catch a bit of the sunset.
The timestamp on that photo is 8:25. Tomorrow, another late night in the studio, but I’ll be out of the office by 7:30. The long days of the coming season are always preceded by some long nights of the present.
Here’s a little something I put on LinkedIn, which I basically use to occasionally brag on people I know. For whatever reason, I get more “engagement” on LinkedIn than any of the social media platforms. Which is great, since I just brag on people I know. Anyway, time to highlight on the award-winning IUSTV folks once again.
I counted and this year’s batch makes 73 IU student awards and honors that I’ve had the privilege to work with. We’re quickly running out of wall space for plaques mostly because we refuse to give any of the individual awards to the individuals because of the terrific talent I am fortunate to work with from time-to-time.
And because the days are (thankfully) getting longer I was able to catch a bit of the sunset after watching the award-winning sports division produce two shows tonight.
We’re in the Almost Spring now, a welcome arrival after — I guess I can say it now — a mild winter. Spring finally arrives in 22 days.
I believe I am still five CDs behind in writing about the Re-Listening project. But, today, we’re going to quickly get two discs closer to catching up. It’s a car experience, playing the discs in the order in which I acquired them, and then writing a bit about them here. Since I’m behind, it’s a scant bit. Which actually works out for this particular stretch of music.
Take this one, for example, one of the dozen or so Marvin Gaye greatest hits records. This one was released on the Motown label in 1976 on LP and then in 1987 on CD. I picked this up in 1997, because everyone needs a little Marvin Gaye in as many formats as possible. As true a statement then, as it is today.
It is as perfect as you would imagine. The first eight songs make the best part of the argument of why there are so many compilation releases:
Let’s Get It On
I Want You
How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved by You)
I Heard It Through the Grapevine
Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology)
What’s Going On
After the Dance
Can I Get a Witness
I’m barely equipped to go on at length about Marvin Gaye, and there’s not a lot of new things to be said about a musical genius at this point, anyway. But, as I listened to this disc I found myself wondering, a lot, about how even the greats can transcend time. Marvin Gaye died young, of course, and he died while I was young. Generationally, I came about his music almost secondhand. Today, it’s been almost four decades since he was killed. What do young people today know about Marvin Gaye? You look at the first eight songs there and think some of those are just downloaded into the brain naturally, surely as oxygen or evolution. Which brings us to the ninth track.
“Trouble Man” was in the MCU, you say. Surely it was.
A decade ago now. Time marches on, but the music of the masters really ought to be immortal.
This is the last track on the CD. An argument could be made that this is the greatest live recording ever. I would not dismiss the argument.
I don’t know, yet, what the consensus best live recording is, but that’s on the list. It’s a 1974 recording in Oakland and that crowd made the thing work in some special ways.
The other CD we’re featuring in the Re-Listening project today marks the beginning of jazz albums in my collection. (I’d reached the point where I realized I needed some jazz. What of it?) I have no recollection of how or why I picked up the Holly Cole Trio in particular, but listening through this thing in the last few days, I do wonder why. And, also, why are we ruining The Jungle Book, right off the bat?
Lyle Lovett wrote this song. Sounds like a soundtrack tune.
I’m glad I didn’t give up entirely on this one, though. This song has some sass, at least. Which, hey, it’s a Fats Waller classic.
I thought, at first, I was being trolled on the last track.
And this, I think, is why I don’t have any memories associated with this CD. I decided, early on, I wasn’t going to listen to this one a lot.
I did 16 slow miles this morning. Felt slow, anyway.
But, still, three new Strava segment PRs, including two on climbs. (I am not a climber.) I took 3:24 off my best time on one of the little climbs today. Good legs, even if it felt slow.
The 2023 Zwift route tracker: 88 routes down, 41 to go.
cycling / Wednesday — Comments Off on A tiny bit better, sorta, mostly 22 Mar 23
I felt six percent better today. And, because of that, and because I hadn’t been on my bike in 17 days, I decided to go for a little spin.
Two short Zwift routes in Scotland, though I should have stopped at one. Something happened on the second route, which featured a moderate climb near the end. Already my heart rate was elevated, of course, because I was exercising. But there I was, trying to make sure some other person didn’t get around me on the hill, so I’m pushing through some not-insubstantial watts (for me) and I felt my heart rate jump in a noticeable, unusual way.
I was going to do another route, but suddenly I decided to listen to my body, finely tuned athletic mechanism that it is. Mostly because my legs did not want to do any more. I dismounted the bike, cleaned it up a bit, and went to sit on a stepping stool, nursing a sudden headache. Took some Ibuprofen, had a shower, had dinner and started feeling better.
Throwing 700-plus watts while you’re fighting off my first cold since 2019 might have been a bit ambitious, in retrospect. I’ll wait a few more days before trying again.
The good news is I am now taking fewer medicines. And the coughing is progressing nicely, thank you very much.
We have to start our return — a multistage effort — tomorrow. That’s a downer, but there’s a beautiful day to enjoy, so no frowns. Just these amazing, happy views.
That’s what we spent the afternoon doing, seeing the countryside.
But, first, The Yankee had a bit of skiing to do.
Dr. Lauren Smith — high school All-American, D1 multisport athlete, three-time Ironman, globally renowned sports media scholar — yesterday re-taught herself how to ski from memory, after a layoff of … most of the 21st century. She did this all by herself yesterday, on rented skis, on two runs down the easy slopes. And then she decided to branch out to slightly more challenging slopes. After a dozen-plus runs over the last two days, she pronounced her legs shaky, but very much happy with the skiing. And she stayed upright the entire time.
These are the last two — I’m not sure what you’d call these, runs? — of her time in the Pyrenees. She made it look graceful and easy, as all of the skiers did. And now I want to learn to ski. This is why.
We took a few gondola rides today, to go even higher, for even more sunny, blue sky views.
I’m sure it is an illusion of size, distance and scale, but it seems weird to be above the mountains.
The rides took us to a few other ski slopes. And, look, my hair is as white as this snow. (Thanks for that, Granddad.)
Don’t eat the ski snow.
Off to the side of the slopes there was a very small parking lot. And that lot has perhaps some of the best parking lot views in all of Andorra.
There should at least be some chairs and umbrellas out there.
Apparently that little thing in the background is a slidewalk, much like you’d see at an airport. Apparently this is the kids’ slope, barely downhill. One day, ages hence, when I learn to ski, this will be the sort of setup that will be used.
This part of the world is being impacted by climate change. There should be more snow and winter out there, but things are going green in a hurry. It’s hard to imagine too many more weekends of skiing out there this season.
We were the only people there. I don’t know how anyone would go about owning a mountain, but if you have a commanding view of a mountain, and you’re the only one seeing it, that must be what it feels like to own a mountain, if only for a moment.
Here is a video of some of those views. There are also some bloopers. And some outtakes of bloopers in the video. Enjoy.
On Monday we drove over to Val d’Incles. We wanted to walk to a lake out there, but the road was closed to through-traffic and walking the rest of the way would have put us in darkness. So we drove there again, earlier, today. The road was still closed, so we walked down the single-track path.
The thing is, once you walked a fair amount down that paved path, you would have to take a gravel path to get to one of these bodies of water. And that gravel path is where the hiking begins. There are helpful signs pointing out the lakes, and the distance away, and the time your hike would take. We still didn’t allow enough time.
So part of the way up the gravel path, we found this big rock. The one she’s standing on, not the one she’s pointing at.
We sat on that rock for an hour and change, just admiring this view.
Imagine having a little cabin out here. I think many of them are seasonal, since they’re still boarded up. But spring is almost there, and we spent that time imagining leaving your place in the city and coming up to a canyon like this to take in this peaceful scenery.
This is similar to a photo that I put here a moment ago, but there must be a reason for that.
I would not mind a cup of a tea, a good book, and views like these every day.
Plus, imagine how great our greeting cards would be!
And here’s a video with some of the views from Val d’Incles — including just the third cartwheel post-catastrophic shoulder surgery.
I wonder how much time we’d spend next to a small foot bridge if we had one on our property.
There’s a creek behind us, not this one of course, and we hang out there a bit. The difference is ours doesn’t turn into a miniature waterfall, and the water isn’t snow melt. Us flatlanders find this to be a wonderful novelty. And I’ll show you some more miniature waterfalls on Friday. But first this one.
And, yes, a version of that photo will soon be a part of the site’s art, but, then, a lot of things we’re seeing this week will soon decorate the place. There are beautiful things to see everywhere here. I didn’t set this up, and I’m hardly trying, but this is the very next photograph I took.
And walking back down that small road, to where we parked our rental car. The sun was high, but the mountains are too, and the light grows dim in Val d’Incles quickly.
Here’s one more view of the eastern side of the valley.
We went back into Andorra la Vella for dinner, and sat down for a place that takes great pride in grilling meats. We also wanted to return to this playground, which we saw yesterday, to try this contraption.
A kid was on it before we went to the spa. Same kid was on it hours later. This evening, two girls were playing there. We stared them down, ran them off, and took a few turns. This was fun. I don’t know what you call this, but every playground needs one.
After four or five back-and-forths, we drove back up to our apartment in Arinsal. Time to get backed up. We’ll have one more Andorra adventure tomorrow, and then it is back down to sea level and Barcelona, tomoorrow. Then, Friday, the airport, and a long day of travel back to the U.S.
