Weeknotes: September 30 - October 4, 2024
Monday, September 30
On Saturday I sent Islay to spend the night with my parents while I took a day trip to Grand Rapids. When I got home to my empty house, I felt so distraught without her. Today I make sure she gets plenty of attention. Pets take up such emotional volume. I sit on the couch with her binge-watching the Americans while working on a magazine layout project for my design class.
Tuesday, October 1
The Tigers take game one of the AL Wild Card series against the Astros. Somewhere around the 7th inning I pick up my guitar and work out a potentially interesting chromatic chord pattern. Postseason day games are interesting. I have so many things to do while I listen, but if it’s an exciting game I get restless and need to pace around. There's another one tomorrow. If they win, they go on to the Division Series.
Wednesday, October 2
Mid-afternoon, I reach into the middle drawer where I keep spare dish towels. I'm looking for something soft to clean the glass of my scanner. Folded neatly beneath two layers of towels I find the two cream-colored pillow cases that went missing months ago. "Ha!" I shout. I was fairly certain they would turn up, crumpled inside the pant leg of some seldom worn jeans, but I never imagined they were in the kitchen, enjoying a holiday from my head.
The Tigers sweep Houston to take the Wild Card series. What a surprise this playoff run has been. I now have a weekend of Detroit baseball to look forward to!
Leif Enger's Virgil Wander continues to surprise me. I look forward to it every night. On the last page I read before bed a character says "Accordions draw lightning." I write it down in my notebook and turn off the light.
Thursday, October 3
My class is canceled with barely an hour's notice. I think of the New Yorker cartoon I once saw captioned "The ecstasy of canceled plans." The rest of my workday is spent in the yard, enduring the wi-fi's penumbra so that I may sit by a fire and burn sticks while updating band bios.
Later, I drive out to the Saline River Preserve for an evening walk. I adore this place with its humming meadow bisected by opposing aspen stands. They've added a new trail since I was last here and as I snake along the river's edge, I disturb a heron and a pair of wood ducks. On the south side a ridge rises up to Maple Road. Midway up this ridge is a magnificent burr oak, the kind of gnarled giant for which the word hoary was invented. I climbed it about five years ago, but I don't know if I'd chance it now. It'd be a long tumble down the hill.
Friday, October 4
Heading to the hardware store to buy a new bulb for my Himalayan salt lamp, my engine light comes on. I have been maintaining a slight oil leak for the past month, but the triggering of this warning almost comes as a relief. I've gone on some kind of road trip the past three weekends, but this weekend I will park my car and stay local. I have everything I need nearby. I'll take the car into the shop on Monday.
After work I ride my bike up to Highland Cemetery. It's a gorgeous evening which could only be improved by the turning of autumn leaves. I don't think it's going to happen this year. My walnuts have already shed most of their green leaves and I've barely seen a flash of color anywhere. I'm still learning the landscape of this beautiful cemetery. I ride up to the north end near the Clark Road solar farm which, because of its low population density I assume to be the newer section. The first gravemarker I see is from 1827. This place is vast, its own quiet city. On my way out I spot two rows of lanterns awaiting guests of James Mann, the local historian who operates seasonal lamplit tours every October.
Downtown, I stand on Washington Street and watch Dr. Pete Larson play a fevered electronic set as part of Freak Fest. I first met Pete when I was the drummer in a high school noise band called Galen. We were signed to his label, Bulb Records. He was then known as Mr. Velocity Hopkins and one half of the duo Couch. You may not hear it in the music I make, but the Bulb scene was a huge influence on me.
At Wyrd Byrd I buy the first edition of a U.K. zine called Weird Walk which covers neolithic rambling, dungeon synth records, Morris dancing, and begins with a Julian Cope quote. Right in my wheelhouse. The October night continues with a bonfire at Nick’s (one of his best, I should note… an instant classic), then a walk up to Ziggy's for more Freak Fest where my friends Tanager play to a packed room. I spend 20 minutes out back trying to convince a nice couple from Muncie, Indiana to move here. They drove all the way up just to go to Freak Fest. They belong in this town.