Archive: February 2008

On Saturday, JG and I headed to the Lancaster area to see one of our favorite bands, Caedmon’s Call, in concert. When we saw them for the first time, not all of the band members were able to be there, but the music was great, and hey, the show was free. This time, it was so much fun to see the entire group, and they put on a really great show.

We were prepared for the general admission seating, so JG took my hand and made a beeline for the front, where we scored third-row seats. Plus, I had the added short-person bonus of an empty seat in front of me. Yes! The concert had the expected characteristics — all-time favorite tunes, chest-thumping bass, and encore numbers — but I was struck by how Caedmon’s Call music immediately called up specific events from my life. Throughout the concert, my mind flipped quickly through a Rolodex of memories to arrive at whatever moment was most closely associated with the song.

“This World” brought me back to a retreat in college, when two guitarists and song leaders, Kimby and Dan, played this song for the group. I was a freshman at the time, and I was completely impressed with those seniors, their friendship, and their musicality. When the band struck up the opening chords, I felt a little ache in my chest.

When I was a youth leader, I led a discussion based on the lyrics to “Shifting Sand.” Between looking up the definition of “precarious” and referencing old stories they had known for years, I saw that rare glimmer of comprehension poke out of a group of a dozen high school girls.

JG and I call “Two Weeks in Africa” “Kristina’s song,” after one of our closest friends. She took a trip to Kenya during college, and I am convinced that it is a matter of time until she tells us that she’s going back for good. As soon as I heard those opening chords, I remembered that we told her about this song as soon as we heard it, and she said sheepishly, “Apparently, I have a reputation for Africa or something.” At the concert, I flipped open my phone and called her, on the off chance that she would be able to hear the song through my speaker phone. I left a hoarse, follow-up voicemail after the fact to explain myself, and she called me back today: “I could barely make anything out from that first voicemail, but I could kind of hear that it was Caedmon’s, and then I heard you shrieking every so often.” Good enough, I think!

Of course, the concert couldn’t include all of our favorites. “Ballad of San Francisco” would have taken me straight back to my dorm room, as I strained to plunk out power chords on a borrowed guitar. “Love is Different” was the unofficial anthem of JG’s and my first dating days. “Daring Daylight Escape” ran through my mind as I waited to hear from JG after what I knew was a conversation with my dad to ask for permission to propose. I listened to “Walk with Me” on repeat during a sad train ride.

It’s curious how that works — how songs can bring back such strong images and emotions from whatever event goes along with them. Now, I can add another one to the file: sitting at that concert next to JG, squeezing his hand, and singing along with the band.

Sunday Scribblings #100: Time Machine

Out of synch? Off kilter? On the fritz? However you say it, JG and I were out of sorts this week. I don’t know what it was. I could rattle off a litany of excuses — lack of sleep, bad driving weather, physical fatigue — but they seem limp and insufficient compared to the jarring clash of our interactions.

When the rhythm is right, JG and I have a groove; our friends sometimes call it “The JG and RA Show,” and they watch our banter with amusement. We are guilty of clichéd things like finishing each other’s sentences, answering half-asked questions, and collectively reminiscing a story. I relish these moments when it’s perfectly clear to me that we’re on the same page, we’re completely aligned, and our synergy is confirmed.

But then there are times like this week, when the gears of our well-oiled machine didn’t coalesce, and instead of interlocking into a functional system, the cogs butted up against each other in a grinding struggle. Conflicting opinions in the context of similar, unyielding personalities morphed attempted communication into a hostile front. Conversations meant to be hypothetical ended up deeply personal, and suggestions turned into accusations. What was intended was not said, and what was taken away was not intended. Despite the fact that neither meant to hurt the other, it still happened. On Wednesday, I forced myself to write an e-mail to say that I was feeling simultaneously hurt and discouraged and insecure, all the while hating that I had to write it out because — couldn’t I talk to my own husband? I dabbed away the gathering tears, ashamed that I was crying at the start of my workday.

Throughout the day, JG and I had a constructive e-mail conversation to clear things up, so the issue has passed. But I can still feel prickly, sensitive bits of me bristling at sarcastic comments. I am not doing a good job at suppressing eye-rolls and groans. I have to keep reminding myself that JG is making pulled pork sandwiches for dinner tonight, at the same time refraining from nursing silent resentment over the fact that he got to stay home from work on this snowy day while I am sitting in an empty office. It’s not his fault. But it’s still irksome.

After I get home and we eat dinner, we’ll play Scrabble and watch a movie or episodes of The Office. Maybe we’ll get the groove back next week. Shrug. I know it’s all a part of two human beings living in one space and that these discordant times are for building character. Challenging myself is fine and dandy, but I confess that I prefer the times when the machine runs smoothly.

Cross-posted at Indie Bloggers

This year, voters will choose. In a time when the opportunity to make their voices heard is stronger than ever, the people will rise to the challenge. To be sure, it is no easy feat: issues weigh heavily and candidates gain and lose appeal from one day to the next. No one likes the political nature of casting ballots, but choosing the best is not always easy.

This year, voters will consider their priorities in choosing their selected candidate. What is most important for their representative? Charisma? Good looks? Experience? Only the results will tell which factors will swing the balance in the end. Until then, the people must stay informed, examine all the options, and then make the best choice as they see fit, joining the Americans who will exercise their right — and privilege — to be counted.

This year, a winner will be selected through honest ballots and among strong competition, but these candidates are powerless without you: the Voter. I humbly urge you to take a stand and VOTE FOR TED for the 2008 Bloggie Doggie Awards by tomorrow!

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When you join our team to boost Ted to the top, you will be the proud recipient of a Ted in 2008 button so that others know where you stand. In addition, by showing your support at the polls, you will receive an I voTED! sticker to display for the rest of the day.

It is time to choose, America. And your choice is Ted.

This message is furnished by the Friends of Ted, not to be confused with the Friends of Smalls, Kaya, Rufus, Ben, Gus, or Zapp.

My birthday is two weeks from tomorrow!

Usually, it sneaks up on me — I don’t flip the calendar prematurely, and then all of a sudden, I realize that I have missed out on the excited anticipation stage. I am not letting that happen this year. Tomorrow, I’m sending out an invitation for a frost-your-own-cupcake open house, and I am mulling over the options for the traditional dinner out on the town. JG has been taunting me about a gift he’s ordered that is so amazingly awesome, even though, supposedly, I don’t even know that it exists. Well, then. I just hope whatever it is lives up to the hype, or else I will be severely disappointed.

In the meantime, in case there are any wealthy benefactors out there with money burning holes in pockets, here is a smattering of items* that, despite some gasp-worthy prices, may cause squealing from yours truly:

1. Periodic Table Refrigerator Magnets at Think Geek: $9.99
2. Eve Peeptoe Flat at Ann Taylor: $98 (but I swear they were on sale two days ago…)
3. Celtic Knot Necklace at Red Envelope: $58
4. Calico Wedge at Piperlime: $75
5. Periodic Table of Sentiments Cards at Pink Loves Brown: $13.50 for assorted set of six
6. Lightweight Cardigan (also in Violet) at Old Navy: $24.50
7. Secret Ingredients: The New Yorker Book of Food and Drink at Amazon: $19.77
8. Azalea Top at Ann Taylor Loft: $44
9. Zinc Letters at Anthropologie: $18 each

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* Format blatantly stolen from Janet