Weeknotes: September 2-6, 2024
Monday, September 2
Over the weekend I used my bow saw and loppers to break down the big storm-loosened tree limb that fell in front of my shed. A casualty of a previous ice storm, it had been hanging by a tough woody tendon for two years before finally breaking loose last week. Very satisfying. Its logs are stacked neatly in my woodpile and its branches now crackle merrily in the firepit while I sip strong beer out of an enamel cup and listen to Duke Pearce and Bud Powell. Piano trios are the coziest of musical combos. In the winter I listen to Bill Evans Trio practically every night. It's only Labor Day, but I'm embracing the cool weather and its symbolic shift into fall.
I've pulled out my sewing kit and am mending my neoprene smartphone armband which came apart at the seams during my run today. I've bought pricey ones and generic ones and they all fail, some sooner than others. I'll occasionally mend one when I get tired of having to replace them, though it rarely buys more than a month or two of added service.
Weeknotes: June 24-28, 2024
Monday, June 24
I've been thinking about all the great bands I've seen recently and how it has rekindled my love of concert-going. This inspires me to start a spreadsheet of every concert I can remember attending. Lists are my language. How have I not made this one yet? I begin with the past decade which is well-documented in my planners and journals. After that I resort to memory and the internet, researching the dates of some of my most formative experiences. Here's what I learn.
Between 1988 and 1990 (ages 11-13), my parents spent a lot of money to make sure I saw some of the bedrock touring bands of the era. Of course, my very first concert was a few years earlier, the Beach Boys with Warren Zevon on Memorial Day weekend, 1984. I have vague sensory memories of it, but can recall no strong details. I sadly remember nothing of Zevon and only know of his participation from the ticket stub. In retrospect, I know Dennis Wilson had died the previous December, so I wouldn't have had a chance to see all three Wilson brothers. Could Brian have possibly been there? It seems doubtful. That was a rough period for my hero, though I later had a beautiful experience in the summer of 2000 taking my mom to see him play the Pet Sounds album live in Cleveland.
But in the late-'80s, I owned my first electric guitar and was already deep into my mania. In August 1988, barely a week after it opened, I was taken to the Palace of Auburn Hills to see Crosby, Still, & Nash and then Pink Floyd, just two days apart. A month after that my mom and Mary Jane Benner took me and her son Josh back to the Palace to see Def Leppard's massive Hysteria tour. To this day my mom remains a big fan of the Lep. In November 1989, I went with Aaron Dilloway and his brother to see the B-52's at the Fox Theatre on the Cosmic Thing tour. Toad the Wet Sprocket, an incongruous pairing, was the opener, touring their first album Bread & Circus, which I also loved. Between December of that year and June 1990, I saw the Rolling Stones (with Living Colour), Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers (with Lenny Kravitz), Billy Joel, and David Bowie. Seeing Bowie's Sound + Vision tour with my brother remains a watershed moment in my life. And of course he, being four years older, was already going to see far hipper bands than me: Jane's Addiction, Pixies, Love & Rockets, Beastie Boys. Some parents pushed their kids into sports or academics. My parents were devoted music fans and lifetime concert-goers. This was the education I received at a crucial age. How could I have become anything other than what I am?