I get these monthly emails from Strava, the exercise tracking app. Well, that’s one of the apps. Every month they try to encourage me. Look what you’ve done! You’re doing great! (Even if you’ve done less!) Look how many people you congratulated for their efforts, too! And look! A few of them gave you some pats on the back, too.

They call theirs kudos, because every social app has to have different word for this. I’m afraid, or excited, I can’t decide, that this will be what ultimately limits the growth of the social media data mining industry: running out of ways that we can all say we saw each other’s post, image or exercise.

Anyway, November was a good month on the bike. A record-setting month, for me. Most miles ever! By one mile! And I did that with the busy holiday week and some bracingly cold weather. “Bracingly” means stimulating and invigorating, so “bracingly” might be the wrong word to use there. Anyway, a big month, and also, I had a few achievements on Strava, itself.

December will likely be underwhelming, in comparison, but that’s OK! It’ll be exactly what it can be, which is exactly what it needs to be. And it’ll also be a cap to my best year ever on the bike, in terms of miles. And, somehow, for some reason, I am still riding outside. In December.

For a few more days, anyway.

But not today. Today, we were on campus.

Finals begin this time next week and so, for today’s classes, this was our final regular class together. Most people were able to stay awake. I think. I might have nodded off once or twice myself.

We talked about video graphics today. I had 13 pages of notes to share. Twelve of them were good pages. I probably should have stopped at a dozen. The slides were quite fun, though, and it allowed us to put a nice little bow on the class.

This semester these classes learned about camera controls, camera movements, audio capture and had some studio time. They made a commercial, beginning the lifelong journey of editing and post-production. Just recently we talked lights and graphics and some of the other tools and techniques like file management, group work and deadlines that go into media productions. Right now, they are working in groups on fake public service announcements.

From the snippets I hear, there is a lot of enthusiasm for that project. Some people seem very entertained by it. That part might be the best part of all, particularly for an introduction class.

Let’s go back to the Re-Listening project, where I am listening to all of my old CDs in the car, but in the order in which I acquired them. These aren’t music reviews — no one needs that — but an exercise in sharing great music, digging up some old memories and padding out the blog.

Today’s album debuted in 1995. I bought the thing in the summer of 2004, and I don’t know why I waited that long, but I’ll plead poverty. I don’t remember the first time I heard “Blue,” but it was in the 90s. And I remember playing that song, and a few others from “Tomorrow the Green Grass” on college radio a lot.

You’ll remember “Blue.” Everyone remembers “Blue.” For a time, everyone had a cover of “Blue.” It was the proto-Wagon Wheel. You might not recall the video. I certainly don’t. Ignore the obvious pretentiousness of 1990s music videos and soak in some harmonies.

Some hack writer around that time write of them:

At the intersection of country and jangle-pop lies a dusty old house. The upper-midwestern architecture is out of place with the scraggly ground surrounding it. Paint is peeling and flecking from the white porch railing. The planks of that porch are old and should be aged, but they’ve been worn smooth by bad-assed boots. There’s a swing, but it rarely swings; a ceiling fan that never turns.

When it rains — if it rains — the precious fluid falls in big dollops onto dust so dry it long ago gave up. The roof on that porch is tin — what else could it be? — the shutters could use some work and the whole structure got on its knees for paint three or four seasons ago. It has had lots of residents, that dusty old house at the intersection of country and jangle-pop. Its foundation is sturdy, its lines clean, its soul still dreaming.

The music coming from inside: The Jayhawks.

Whoever wrote that is cheesy, but it isn’t wrong. Not really.

I might have written it.

If there was ever a band I turned my stereo up too loud for, this was one of those bands. There were a few of them. That song was probably the reason why.

The band was a four-piece back then. Mark Olson was still in the group, this was, I guess, just before the first time he left. He’s splitting time with Gary Louris. Marc Perlman was there, of course, and Karen Grotberg was still on her first tour of duty. It’s a high quality quartet, but the percussion on the CD is a session player. Tim O’Reagan didn’t join the group until the subsequent tour. For my money, he’s been the player that makes the band work ever since.

Well, O’Reagan, and also Grotberg’s magical ability to fit in all over the melody.

Olson’s wife, the legendary Victoria Williams plays on the record, as does the great Lili Haydn, who was the virtuoso person you called if you wanted a violin for your rock ‘n’ roll project. You can hear on the song above.

This was The Jayhawks’ fourth record, but the first one I bought. (There will be many more, and some of them right away.) And there’s a Grand Funk Railroad cover right in the middle. I distinctly remember discovering that, a mixture of “HeyWhatWow!?!?!”

There’s a fair amount of stylistic exploration in this record, and none of it seems wasteful. You have to put that up against what was happening in music in 1995 — a year dominated by Garth Brooks, Van Halen, Boyz II Men, Springsteen, 2Pac, Lion King, Live, Ice Cube, Hootie & the Blowfish, Michael Jackson, Selena, Bone Thugs-n-Harmony, Coolio, Alanis, Mariah Carey and The Smashing Pumpkins. These guys, if you could find the record, would stand out. Several decades on, not every song is my favorite — that’s coming on another part of their discography, when they strip things back to the essential elements — but every one of them is still worth a listen.

My lovely bride and I saw them when we were first dating. It was an over-and-back trip to Atlanta, my first and so far only time seeing The Jayhawks, and the show that told me I was too old to do all of that in one day and go to work early the next morning.

Happily, they’ll be on the road next spring; some of those shows are already sold out. The next time they get close, I’ll be there to see them again.

The next two CDs in my collection are also from The Jayhawks. I bought them in August of 2004, on the day I was accepted into graduate school. I saw it as a little celebration, and that was some reward to myself. But that’s for the next installment of the Re-Listening project.

Oh, sure, today, when I have to be inside, it can be 20 degrees warmer and sunny. Isn’t that just the way of it? Of course it started out cold, ’tis the season, somehow. But by the time midday rolled around, by the time we got to campus, we were assured a beautiful day. And I got to spend the rest of it under fluorescent light bulbs.

Which was usual, but also mildly amusing today: we talked exclusively about lighting for film and television today. Hard light, soft light. Three-point light systems, key lights, fill lights, back lights. Four-point light techniques. High-key lights, low-key lights, silhouettes. The inverse square law (Intensity = 1/Distance-squared). Reflectors, infusers. I had compiled 10 pages of good notes to share.

And then, I did it again in a second class.

After which, I met up with a few colleagues and we went out for dinner. Italian. We talked, among other things, about music, and nostalgia. It was delightful.

I had the opportunity in that conversation to talk about the Re-Listening project, but I did not bring it up. There was an almost natural spot for it to fit in, and while I could have wedged it in, I let the moment pass. I’d much rather tell you about it, dear reader.

As you recall, the Re-Listening project is where I am playing all of my old CDs, in the order of their acquisition, in my car. These aren’t music reviews, but a fun jaunt down memory lane, a good excuse to put some music here and, of course, a good way to pad the site. Today we’re back somewhere in 2004, listening to the debut album from Los Lonely Boys. You’ll remember “Heaven,” which went to the top of the Billboard AC charts. So they had good airplay. They appeared on Austin City Limits and who all knows where else that year. A lot of people bought this record, it went double-platinum in 11 months. Willie Nelson raved about them. (This was recorded at his Pedernales studio.) And that part, and that single, are why I bought the CD.

That song won a Grammy.

And, friends, of all the records you might purchase on the basis of one song getting airplay, this is one of the better ones. I haven’t listened to this in a while, but when it came up for the Re-Listening project I was struck, once again, by the musicianship, and the joyful nature of it all. Also, the harmonies are pretty tight. But, first, you have to hammered by that blues guitar.

Also, this band is not a one-trick pony.

Most prevailing memory of Los Lonely Boys, we were at a small dinner party the year after this record was released, and a few of the songs made the playlist. That night was the night when our little clutch of grad school friends started considering The Yankee and I a couple.

Mostly, this whole album demands a drink with a lot of condensation on the glass.

This album settled comfortably in the nine spot on the Billboard 200, and finished on the 2004 year-end chart at number 44. In a display of it’s staying power, it was on the year-ender for 2005, at 85. More albums followed in the next decade — some with big commercial success — and a ton of touring. They just wrapped up a national tour, in fact, but they’ll be back on the road in January. Check them out of if they come near you.