Exfanding Your Horizons on YouTube

It's taken almost four years, but this humble little blog finally has its own YouTube channel. Before you get all excited--no, we're not really posting any content. Right now, it's really just a place for me to assemble playlists of other people's video game music without cluttering up my GeminiLaser channel. However! We've at least reserved the channel name so that, should we ever decide to make videos, we won't risk having to settle on whatever goofy approximation of our name hasn't yet been claimed, like "Expanding."

Currently on the channel are two Mega Man Megaplaylists, forming literally half a day's worth of music from Mega Man 1-10, Mega Man I-V (Game Boy), Mega Man & Bass (technically Rockman & Forte, the Japanese SNES-equivalent with the same tunes but better audio), and Mega Man: The Wily Wars. Plans are in place to add playlists for Gradius, Metroid, and at least one or two other series before I remember that I'm neglecting a half-dozen other side projects I should probably be working on instead. On the plus side, all the content here has already been created; putting together a couple playlists shouldn't take too much time, right?

This particular project came about as a response to the relative disorganization of video game music on YouTube. Entire soundtracks are posted without being grouped into playlists; finding playlists on people's channels is a chore; titles, descriptions, and search tags are a mess; sound quality is all over the place...seriously, it's like YouTube lets people upload whatever the heck they want with no quality control whatsoever. Rather than continue to sift through ugly search results and bookmark playlists whose URLs keep changing for some reason, I finally decided to construct my own comprehensive playlists--ones that I could launch and leave alone for hours at a clip, and ones that other VG music aficionados might find useful.

I'm open to suggestions as always, but until such time as we start posting actual content, this is one side project that's truly just for my own entertainment. Still, I hope you get some enjoyment out of it all the same.

Here's the link once more: http://www.youtube.com/user/Exfanding

Sunday Spotlight: Jonathan Coulton

If you recall my PAX East 2010 Recap, you know that, at least in one point in my life, geek musician Jonathan Coulton was a name to be spoken with disgust. Despite an agreeable musical style and clever lyrics about mad scientists and Swedish furniture stores, I found too many of his fun-loving songs to have undertones a little too dark or depressing for my tastes...but more importantly, his music had been completely ruined for me by venomous hecklers who, in my mind, were indicative of who Jonathan Coulton was and what kind of fans he attracted.

In other words, I wanted to have nothing to do with him or his music. Except "Mr. Fancy Pants." That song was awesome.

I owe much of my current tastes in music to what Pandora has introduced to me, and once again, I have Pandora to blame (or thank; I'm not sure yet) for reintroducing me to Coulton's music in a way that neither made me angry nor caused me to look down on him as a person because of the way I had been introduced. A few of his songs came up on my playlist here and there, and Pandora's vast knowledge of the kinds of songs I do and don't like were supremely helpful in picking out all the tunes in his repertoire that are up my alley. Not the zombie song; not anything that's fun on the surface but makes you feel bad about the human condition if you think about it too hard--all the songs that made me laugh, smile, and want to sing along the way Paul and Storm did at their part of the PAX East concert.

In other words, I gradually found myself liking Jonathan Coulton. Whoa. I still wouldn't call myself a fan, but I like enough of his songs now to not be an anti-fan. So there's that.

For your entertainment, here's a sampling of his music if you're unfamiliar with it (or just want to listen to it again):

Sunday Spotlight: James Taylor

My goodness, what a year for music. My wife and I got to see Colin Hay in concert, my favorite newly discovered artist of the past few years. We recently discovered a treasure trove of bargain-priced music at a store relatively close to where we live, and bolstered our music library with more CDs from Talking Heads, The Police, and James Taylor, to name a few. All of them were artists I wanted to hear more of, but I had a particular interest in exposing myself to more of James Taylor's music--we were getting ready to see him in concert, you see.

As my high school graduation gift, I got to see him in concert. That was it, I'd thought--a one-time-only deal. Not only was it a truly uncommon event for us to brave the traffic and massive crowds that such a big artist draws to an arena, but that concert was--and I do not throw terms around like this lightly--one of the highlights of my life. How could we possibly go back?

I'd find out awfully soon. I'd been gifted with six tickets to see James Taylor in concert for my birthday.

I will admit, my initial reaction was a mixed one of awe, excitement, and caution. I'm still as big a fan as I ever  was--there's no way I'd turn down another chance to see him in concert. And to have six tickets--one for me, one for my mother (which was part of the agreement, and I wouldn't have had it any other way), and four for whomever I liked--gave me the opportunity to share the event with four people who weren't able to go the first time around: my father, my sister, a family friend, and my wife (who was a total stranger at the time and would have raised some interesting issues with my then-girlfriend. But I digress).

Still, I was a little cautious. I've liked or loved every one of his albums I've heard, but the last decade or so had me worried a little bit--James Taylor at Christmas, One Man Band, Live at the Troubador, Covers, and Other Covers were nice enough (or what I'd heard from them, at least), but the trend I was seeing suggested to me that JT was slowing down and phasing himself out.

James Taylor is no stranger to covering other people's songs, but he's usually good for all-new material at least once per decade; two rounds of covers, a Christmas album with familiar favorites, and two live albums seem to indicate that you're at a point in your career where you've given up on songwriting for yourself altogether. In video game terms, this would roughly be the equivalent of porting and re-releasing all the same games for ten years without making any new ones, and that's when your fans assume your series has already come to an end.

The kicker here was that, in the songs I'd heard, I had noticed JT suddenly sounded older. This is a man who usually sounds like his voice hasn't aged a day since 1968, but I kept hearing mushy enunciation in his newer recordings that only served to solidify the idea in my head that the years had finally caught up with my favorite artist, and that it wouldn't be long before he'd hang up his guitar and retire from the music scene entirely.

Clearly, I am a fool. The James Taylor I heard in concert had even more energy than when I saw him the first time. This sixty-something-year-old man was literally hopping around the stage with outstretched leg and guitar in hand, sounding exactly like he did in 1968. If artists such as Pete Seeger and B.B. King can continue performing well into their 70's and 80's and 90's, then you really are only as old as you feel--to heck with the legal retirement age. James Taylor was up on stage with his band, having the time of his life.

If my blogging buddy Alex comes back this week with a post bemoaning the fact that he was unable to attend the concert with me, do have sympathy on him--the concert was fantastic--but do bear in mind that he saw Paul McCartney without me before you rule out rubbing it in a little.

Like before, we were seated on the hilly lawn of an outdoor arena. A little too far to throw your undies onstage, but close enough to still see all the action. Big screens were present to watch the live camera feed. I divided my attention about evenly between the screen and the stage; even if I had been in the front row, I would've looked up at the screen from time to time to catch the angles and closeups I'd've otherwise missed. Heck, we even looked away for a few moments to watch the technician walking around on the roof of the enclosed part of the arena--"Looks like he can't find a seat," we joked.

Other folks were walking around down where we were sitting--if you've never been to an arena with lawn seating, the performance (at least in my experience) is really more like an outdoor party with live music than a true concert. The sea of humanity around us was damp with booze, and there's no doubt that helps explain why people were occasionally standing in the way and TALKING TOO LOUDLY. We didn't pay to see James Taylor and Band Plus Noisy People Up Front, but at the same time, Noisy People Up Front probably didn't pay to attend a lawn party with us Crotchety People Who Want to Sit Quietly.

A little more common courtesy and situational awareness on the part of some other folks wouldn't have hurt, but what helped more was keeping in mind that this wasn't just about seeing and hearing this performance; it was about setting up camp on the lawn and lying down in the September (well, June) grass with a loved one and sharing the experience. Seeing James Taylor was great. Seeing him with friends and family was better, no matter who that complete stranger was who stood in front of us for half a minute with no other apparent intent than standing in front of us.

What was striking about the concert was that JT wasn't just doing all the hits, or all the songs from his latest album. It was as though he and the band looked through his entire catalog, picked out one song from each album that they felt like performing, and put together a setlist. At one point, some of the audience members up front were shouting out the names of songs they wanted to hear, and JT paused to pick up the big slate at his feet, saying, "Yep, that's on the list." Another name was shouted. "Yep, that one's on the list, too. We've got you covered," he said with a smirk.

Lo and behold, there were "Mexico" and "Fire and Rain" and "Shower the People," along with "Country Road" and, most important of all, "Sweet Baby James." Yet, there was no real buildup of anticipation for the songs everyone knows and expects, and there were even a few songs such as "Walking Man" that are on every Greatest Hits collection that never made an appearance. But, the concert was stronger for it. JT wasn't resting on his laurels and only giving the fans the songs they expected to hear; he had total ownership of the concert and played whatever the heck he darn well pleased, which frequently included the songs fans expected to hear.

It became clear to me that all these live albums and cover songs of the last decade aren't an indication that James Taylor is on his way out--they're an indication that the man already has plenty of material to perform, and he's simply enjoying performing it. As the story goes, ex-wife Carly Simon gave James the choice to save their marriage by cutting back his focus on music and performing, and his response to her ultimatum was the album Dad Loves His Work. If there was one thing that was abundantly clear during this concert, it was that Dad, without a doubt, loves his work.

On stage with JT were backup singers and instrumentalists who were apparently famous but whom I did not recognize (including saxophonist "Blue Lou" Marini, Jr.). James' introductions of the band members throughout the show were entertaining, because virtually everyone was a "legend," or at least a "maven." I don't recall much storytelling between songs the first time I saw him in concert, but this time around he was taking his time with the pace of the concert, slowing down to elaborate on the backstory of some songs and crack jokes about others.

He spoke about how "Sweet Baby James" was a cowboy lullaby to a little buckaroo, sweetly conveying the message, "goodnight, ya little varmint." When explaining the National Geographic inspiration for "The Frozen Man" (another one of my all-time favorites of his), he challenged himself to see how many times he could use the word "permafrost," being sure to interject it as often as possible. When closing out the first set with the whimsical "Sun on the Moon" (with lines like, "Me and my flea we were down by the water / Fell in a hole with Superman's daughter") he advised the audience not to think too hard about what the lyrics meant--he'd given up trying to figure them out a long time ago.

One of the greatest surprises in the concert was at the beginning of the second set. The band was reassembling onstage, and JT recounted how he was on the phone earlier with his brother Livingston, found they were both in town that evening...and invited him onstage for a duet, right there in front of us. For a few minutes, there was a fascinating interplay of two voices so tonally similar yet so distinctive--Livingston a little lower and a little more rugged; James a little higher and a little warmer. I don't even know if they'd had a chance to rehearse together, but it didn't matter--these two grew up singing together, and it was like flipping a switch to put them in duet mode. Truly something.

Livingston joined up with the backup singers for the end of the concert, which capped off the evening with a few unexpected tunes, including a cover of "The Twist" (which had us all standing up and twisting away on the lawn) and an oft-overlooked song from an oft-overlooked album by the same name, "That's Why I'm Here."

Oh, fortune and fame's such a curious game
Perfect strangers can call you by name
Pay good money to hear fire and rain
Again and again and again

Some are like summer coming back every year
Got your baby got your blanket got your bucket of beer
I break into a grin from ear to ear
And suddenly it's perfectly clear

That's why I'm here
Singin tonight, tomorrow, everyday
That's why I'm standing here
That's why I'm here

"The Twist" and "That's Why I'm Here." A letdown, perhaps, if you came to hear all the classics and expected something like "Steamroller" to finish the show. A fitting conclusion if you're having a blast watching your favorite artist have fun. I have no other explanation for his enthusiasm in jump-stomping with one last energetic strum of the guitar to end so many songs.

Yet...the concert didn't quite end there. One more encore. He'd played "Sweet Baby James" already in the first set, and I was glad to have a second chance to share that mother/son moment that perfectly ended that first concert. There wasn't anything specific I was hoping he'd play--I was just glad to have one more song.

His wife Caroline ("Kim"), who had been singing backup, came up alongside him to perform the only other song that could come close to being as meaningful a finale as "Sweet Baby James" was the first time around: "You Can Close Your Eyes."

It's the song that perfectly describes how I want to go out of this world, when the time comes: with memories of the good times we've had, and with something left behind for you to remember me by. The song that never fails to move me to tears with its beauty and hopeful, haunting reminder of how precious life is. The song I've sung countless times on car trips and at home, squeezing my wife's hand in the reassurance that despite everything we've been through, we are still here, and a part of us will always still be here no matter what happens.

There with my wife, beneath the stars, music echoing across the hill, time stood still again.

I wonder if someday we'll be able to see him in concert again, bringing along our hypothetical future children, and whether I'll have one more perfect memory of JT playing our song--whatever that song may be--just for us, at the finale.

Once more, for the chance to see my favorite artist in concert, and to share in that experience with my friends and family, I am exceedingly grateful.

Looking for Jack

I believe I've learned a valuable lesson: When planning to attend a concert where there may be a possibility of purchasing the performing artist's audio CDs, do yourself a favor and research pricing and availability of the ones you don't have in advance.

As you may recall, I saw Colin Hay in concert recently. At the merchandise table, I had my pick of just about any CD he'd ever produced. One of which, as I recall, was Looking For Jack, his first post-Men at Work endeavor. $15 for the CD, like all the others. I picked up Mercury Rising and Going Somewhere instead, figuring I'd get around to Looking for Jack eventually.

An Amazon.com gift card arrived for me in the mail a few days ago, and I had my mind set on expanding my music library with more Colin Hay, plus more James Taylor and Talking Heads as well. To stretch my $25 certificate as far as it would go, I went searching for the cheapest options that weren't yet in my library: a little under $10 for Sweet Baby James; a little over $10 for Remain in Light; $116.97 for Looking for Jack.

Waitaminute.

One hundred sixteen dollars. For a CD.

And ninety-seven cents.

Apparently, the album was released on CD in 1987 and never saw a re-release in any format that I can find. I didn't even realize we had CDs in 1987--I distinctly remember cassette tapes and small mountains of installation disks for the likes of Space Quest V well into the '90s.

Do you know how long it's been since the '90s? I can't even do the math anymore.

Like I can't do the math to come up with $116.97 for a CD that should at least be available for digital download by now. Meanwhile, I'm looking at 33 different versions of Paul Anka's "(You're) Having My Baby" on Amazon for a buck twenty-nine or less. I think I feel ill.

The moral of this story remains the same, whether or not there actually was a copy of Looking for Jack on that merchandise table: Hire Paul Anka to write your songs, and they'll never go out of print.

Wait, that's not it at all...I mean, $17.86 for Transcendental Highway is much more reasonable.

But I could've gotten it for $15.

Sunday Spotlight: Colin Hay

While Colin Hay might not be a household name, chances are good that you've heard him singing "Who Can it Be Now?" or "Down Under" with the Australian '80s band Men at Work, or singing "Overkill" on the TV show Scrubs. When I discovered Hay's 2009 solo album American Sunshine at the height of my Men at Work kick two years ago, I quickly learned that Hay has been recording new music all this time...and making concert appearances within a reasonable driving distance of where I live.

Yes, that's my signed copy of the Colin Hay album "Gathering Mercury." There's a wonderful story behind it.

One to which I could never do justice in writing.

The basic story is hardly overwhelming: I bought tickets for me and my wife to see Colin Hay in concert, we drove to the concert, we watched the concert, and we stood in line at the merchandise table after the concert to meet the performer and get his autograph. Embellish a little, add a few esoteric details, slip in an endorsement to pick up one of his albums, and I've got myself a post. Easy enough if I'm telling my story of the concert; not so easy if the concert isn't really a concert, and if my story really isn't my story.

This wasn't a concert; this was an evening with Colin Hay. The man let us into his life, told us some jokes, and shared insightful, personal, and tragic stories about his family, friends, and career. Also, he played music for us. He was somewhere between storyteller and stand-up comedian; somewhere between artist and acquaintance. What he shared with us in words and music could be conveyed in writing, but it's the kind of tale that's better suited to a conversation--and even then, the humor and emotional punch of Hay's stories would almost certainly be diminished when being recounted by anyone else.

Hay talked about his childhood in Scotland, his family's relocation to Australia, and the alcoholism that consumed his life until moving to California. He talked about how much he cherished his father, his hero who rescued him from bullies and bonded with him over Beatles records. His father, who was killed in his first head-on car crash. He talked about Greg Ham, the saxophonist for Men at Work, who had just passed away. Hay was unable to attend the funeral--he was on the other side of the world, playing a concert for us that same night.

As a tribute to his friend and colleague, Hay performed a rendition of "Who Can it Be Now?" on acoustic guitar. He took a moment to explain how it the song originally intended for acoustic guitar, without the signature blazing saxophone. He played the first few notes...and stopped to point out how much the acoustic version sounds like an ominous music cue from Masterpiece Theater.

He talked about how Men at Work were never much of a drinking band. Like many bands, however, they occasionally wrote songs under the influence of mind-altering drugs. Which explains why the original version of "Down by the Sea" was four hours and 24 minutes long.

He relayed a story that was told to him by one of his fans, which has permanently altered the way he thinks of one of his songs. The fan had gone swimming at a beach, singing to himself Hay's song "Beautiful World." He was singing, "My my my, it's a beautiful world / I like swimming in the sea" and then got bit by a shark.

Another fan at one concert requested that Hay play the song about the goats. You know--"goats appear and fade away."

Prior to forming Men at Work, Hay did indeed own a goat--but that was long before the band appeared. (That part cracked me up.) At least, he claims he and his lazy friends purchased a goat to trim their lawn for them--as my wife pointed out, he himself sings in the song "Wayfaring Sons,"

I traveled home with good stories
I build them up through time
They'll all become a pack of lies
When I'm beyond my prime

And then there was that time Paul McCartney invited himself over for dinner.

Whether entirely true, completely fabricated, or just dressed up a bit, after two hours of these stories, I felt like I understood Colin Hay better than I understand some people I've known for years. The honesty, sincerity, and comedic delivery were every bit as valuable as the music we came to hear.

And the music was pretty darn good.

Verb shift: present tense, go!

My wife and I are among the first in line to meet Colin Hay after the performance. After meeting Wil Wheaton and Bill Amend at PAX East 2010, I am ready to not make a total fool of myself, but prepared for that inevitably happening anyhow.

The queue starts a few feet away from the merchandise table and continues to grow as it hugs the wall and begins to wrap down the stairs. Colin Hay emerges out of nowhere, and heads in the general direction of the merchandise table, where there's plenty of room for him...except there's already this line of people leading to an open space in front of the table. So, he stands in front of the table, off to the side of the room, more like a party guest than a celebrity.

The person in front of us gushes about Hay's music and asks for a photo together. Just observing for a few moments, it seems that either Hay is a little uncomfortable around enthusiastic fans, or else unsure of exactly how this meet-and-greet is supposed to work. I'm up next, and I introduce myself, and ask whether he'd be willing to sign my Mercury Rising CD (I actually have two CDs in hand, and he also signs the second one without prompting or hesitation, which was cool). While he's signing, I politely, calmly, and concisely express how I came across his music and how meaningful it's been over the last two years, and I shake his hand before I step aside. Just a nice, pleasant meeting.

My wife comes up and throws her arms open, asking, "Can I get a hug?"

"C'mere, babe!" he says with a grin, and hugs her.

I'm fairly certain he's not uncomfortable around enthusiastic fans after all.

That's the story, or as much of it as I've put into writing, anyhow.

Sunday Spotlight: Stop Making Sense

I never pegged myself as a Talking Heads fanboy. I'd heard a few of the group's songs on the radio—"Psycho Killer," "Burning Down the House," and my personal favorite, "Once in a Lifetime"—but more often than not, something about their music grated on me. Considering the ingredients of their music, this shouldn't have been the case at all.

Like many of my favorite bands of the 80's, Talking Heads embraced the synthesizer. As my mother once pointed out, I like anything that sounds like video game music. The distinctive vocal style of lead singer David Byrne adds an endearing quirkiness that is particularly fun to emulate when singing along. The avant-garde lyrics touch on a broad range of subjects and are often as deep (and incomprehensible) as any thought-provoking work of literature. Despite all this, many of Talking Heads' songs bothered me just enough to keep me from claiming I was a fan, but I could never put my finger on what, specifically, was the culprit.

As with most of my recent musical discoveries, Pandora was the one to open my ears to a new fandom. I believe it was "Life During Wartime" that came up on one of my playlists at work, but instead of the album cut, it was the version from the "Special New Edition" of Talking Heads' 1984 live album/concert movie Stop Making Sense. I don't recall having heard any version of the song before, but it was unexpectedly catchy.



Then another song from that album came up. Well, not immediately—Pandora is generally good about not playing multiple songs in close proximity from the same album or artist. Unless that artist is Gary Numan, who on one occasion appeared either four or five times in a row with songs from a studio album, a live album, an album with Tubeway Army, and a remastered album with Tubeway Army. At any rate, the Heads reared their...ah...heads again, and I found myself humming along to another tune I wasn't expecting to like so much.

My recollection on the matter is a little fuzzy, but I believe it was after the third song from that album that I decided to go out and buy Stop Making Sense. The only prerequisites I have for purchasing an album are that I trust the artist enough to produce something I'd probably be interested in, or in this case, I'd heard three or more songs from the album that I liked enough to hear on-demand. The fact that I'd previously only heard three songs from this artist that I liked that much made this purchase that much more of a novelty to me.



After grooving along to live cuts of "Slippery People," "What a Day That Was," and the oft-covered "Take Me to the River," I was officially hooked. I no longer liked a few songs by Talking Heads; I liked Talking Heads. And I'd figured out what had been holding me back from claiming myself as a fan.

Almost without exception, I prefer the studio albums of the artists I listen to over their live recordings. At least with the artists I listen to, the technical precision I appreciate in the album cut can so easily be lost in the energy and spontaneity of a live performance. Harry Chapin and James Taylor are about the only two artists whose live CDs (The Bottom Line Encore Collection and Live, respectively) have remained staples in my music collection; the texture and precision of their songs are just as rich as they were in the recording room, yet the presence of a crowd draws out the performers' personalities. They're not just playing music; they're interacting with the listeners, and you can feel that personal connection even if you weren't there to hear them in person.

It wasn't until listening to Stop Making Sense that things started to make sense: Talking Heads is that rare exception whose studio work, to my ear, doesn't hold a candle to their live performances. I heard the album cut of "Life During Wartime" not long after hearing it for the first time on the live CD, and it was a little jarring how clinical it sounded by comparison. I still enjoyed the tune, but the quirkiness and emotion were subdued to the point where the Heads sounded more nervous without an audience in front of them, as though they couldn't properly be themselves.



Nevertheless, I'm finding a greater appreciation for the Heads' studio work because of how much I like this one live album. It's the same principle at work that allowed me to start enjoying the disappointing soundtrack of Mega Man 10 after hearing some fantastic remixes—by association, the original songs sound better, and there's an added layer of interest in listening for the similarities and differences that characterize each version. Now that I know what the Heads can sound like, I'm curious to explore more of their music—and from what I've heard on Pandora since Stop Making Sense first came up, I get the feeling I've got a good many new albums ahead of me.

'Twas the Day After Christmas...

'Twas the day after Christmas, and I was up visiting my wife's family. We had some free time in the afternoon to do some wrap-up shopping for the folks we had yet to see. Having done the majority of my holiday shopping as last-minute tactical Wal-Mart strikes and rush-shipped Amazon.com purchases, I greatly enjoyed the opportunity to take my time browsing somewhere.

If you've read this blog for any period of time, you probably know how rooted in the past my interests are. About the only things I buy that aren't at least three years old are groceries (and even then there have been some mishaps). Especially when the majority of stores in my area are relentlessly modern corporate chains, it's refreshing to find any place--particularly one that's independently owned--specializing in old and uncommon items.

I had to exercise a tremendous amount of self-control when I found such a place on our shopping trip: shelf after shelf of new and used DVDs, CDs, comics, and video games. And I mean video games--beyond the entire rows of Wii, Xbox, and PlayStation games, there were display cases of Game Boy, GameCube, N64, Genesis, SNES, NES, and even Atari 2600 games, many of which were still in their original packaging. I saw the original Gradius in a box, and smiled.

Having grown so accustomed to the sleek, modern selections at Best Buy, it was interesting to see the "definitive" (and bulky) box sets of all the Rocky and Die Hard movies except the ones released in the last decade. It was wild to see multiple unorganized stacks of CDs by such artists as 38 Special, Melissa Etheridge, Jars of Clay, and Genesis all selling for as little as $0.49. It was almost overwhelming to see an entire wall of the store showcasing everything from Mega Man 4 to Mega Man Battle Network 2 to Mega Man Soccer. There may also have been other games.

I've been gradually letting go of this buying mindset I adopted some years ago, which tells me I should never pass up geek paraphernalia that's either unlikely to be so easily found again or on sale at an unusually low price. For a diehard collector with money to spare, that's arguably a fine mindset to have. For a guy in a store filled to the brim with great deals on items that went out of print in 1996, buyer discretion is advised.

I managed to impose on myself what seemed like some reasonable limits: no comics (our annual comics shop trip is just a few days away), no more than one item of each type (e.g.: DVD, CD, SNES cartridge, Game Boy Advance cartridge), and nothing I wasn't already considering picking up before seeing it on the shelf (to discourage me from padding my generally complete NES and GameCube collections). Reasonable, yes?

Well, reasonable enough. And it costs nothing to ogle. I went on a field trip, and even without entrusting the cashier with my life's savings, I still had a field day.

Gifts for Geekettes

Exfanded by Neko-chan

I am a geek. I read Dante for fun, I get excited about fabric samples and craft supplies, I play vintage PC games, I watch any sci-fi show I can get my hands on, I love world history, I have at least five different Green Arrow action figures, and I willingly married Nathaniel Hoover.

I am also a girl. However, I am not particularly “girly” in many of the traditional ways that people expect (i.e. beauty, fashion, gossip, etc). Sure, I dig flowers and chocolate, but I don’t usually wear makeup, I insist that my plaid Doc Martens count as dress shoes, I routinely put my hair up with office supplies and paintbrushes, I’m pretty sure a Kardashian is a type of sweater, and rarely would I choose to own, let alone wear, anything pink.

When I do decide to be girly, it is usually in an over-the-top theatrical way, such as my “Barbie cake” wedding dress that was 6’ in diameter and encrusted with enough sequins and beading to make a Disney princess jealous. My tastes simply tend to be capricious and unpredictable when it comes to anything classified as feminine.

Any of this sounding familiar? Chances are that you have at least one offbeat, unconventional female like me in your life, either at home or at work, whom you will feel obligated to find a present for this year. I understand that it can be stressful trying to choose the right thing; the combination of geekiness and femininity creates a powder keg of problems for any potential gift buyer.

Not only do you have to contend with the usual dilemmas of geek gifting such as “Does she own this already?” and “Am I buying the right character/game/version/edition that she requested?” but now you have to throw into the mix questions like, “By her pretty little bonnet, will she end me if I buy her these bath salts?” It’s always a toss-up whether we’ll react negatively to any of the “safe” gifts marketed towards women, and the whole idea of trying to buy us a decent gift can result in panicked nail-biting and a feeling of playing Russian roulette.

To help you in your quest toward purchasing a gift for someone in this diverse and oft-misunderstood demographic, I have compiled a wealth of ideas and suggestions to make this year’s gifting a bit easier.


Gifts for Geekettes, the Master List

Reading

Does she own more books than shoes? Is she on a first-name basis with her local librarians? Does she make you wait until a chapter break before responding to a question? Instead of jumping on the bandwagon of all this “e-book” hullabaloo, opt instead for a more personal and touching gift.

~ Try finding a rare edition of a book she loves, such as a collector’s edition, a first print, a special edition reprint, a signed copy, or simply a nicely bound hardcover version that will withstand the test of time. I highly recommend looking at Alibris. They have a great selection and some of the best customer service I have ever received.


Music

Does she have more than a terabyte of music on her computer? Does she listen to bands whose names you can’t even pronounce? Can she tell the difference between Baroque and Classical? Chances are that she will either have whatever album you buy her, or will be extra-picky about the types of things she listens to; therefore, try making her a mix tape instead.

~ Fill up a disc with songs that remind you of her, and include a track list with your rationale for each song. It will be like getting a gift and card in one, and she will have fun listening to it and thinking of you even if the songs, themselves, are not her favorite style of music. (Or she may hit you if you choose to be like Nathaniel and put “Tempted by the Fruit of Another” on your first mix tape.)

[Editor's note: Hey! It's a good song!]


Kitchen and Edibles

Can she name more than ten varieties of apples without blinking? Does watching her cook evoke the image of a mad scientist in a lab? Has she ever planned a vacation around the cuisine and restaurants rather than the sight-seeing attractions? Spice up your foodie’s life with some fun and exciting kitchen tech or edible curiosities.

~ Food Fighters Party Picks – Being a hostess is a tough assignment, so let her declare war on boring parties with these culinary commandos, guaranteed to earn her a Medal of Honor for exemplary food service in the line of duty.

~ "Equal Measure" Measuring Cup – Sometimes it can be hard to remember how many teaspoons are in a cup, or how many ounces are in a pound. Kitchen math is tricky. That’s why she needs this measuring cup, which makes life a bit easier by converting kitchen measurements into convenient everyday equivalents, such as the “volume of one human breath” and “one thousand sweet corn kernels.”

~ Combine two of her favorite fandoms by commissioning a cake that reflects her interests, such as an Xbox cake or a World of Warcraft cake. Or get creative by crafting and decorating your own baked confection for her.

~ MoMA Espresso Set – The perfect gift for the heavily caffeinated foodie. This set combines ingenuity with efficiency; with coasters that nest into the serving tray, and spoons that balance effortlessly on top of each cup. It can also double as an impromptu juggling act.

Art/Crafting

Does she sew her own clothes or accessories? Has she ever squeed over a sale on tools? Does she refuse to buy things in stores, insisting that she will find a way to make them herself? If so, try investing in some quality media and gadgets to help her on her journey toward inevitable Crafters Anonymous membership.

~ Laser Guided Scissors – If she is a seamstress, this gadget is the answer to a prayer. Using the power of lasers, these scissors enable her to cut a straight line without having to mark or measure intermediate points on the fabric, which saves both time and effort. Did I mention they come equipped with lasers?

~ Self Healing Cutting Mat – This is a nifty device that is useful for both sewing geeks and papercraft geeks. Not only does it protect her work surface from damage, but the quasi-liquid construction of the material actually reseals itself after use, re-filling in minor cuts and dents and returning to a smooth, clean finish. Yay science!

~ Prat Art Presentation Case – If she needs to transport her art back and forth between home, class, work, or client meetings, she definitely needs one of these. It comes equipped with a hard PVC casing, a carrying handle, zipper-closure, double-backed archival binder sleeves, a storage pocket, and a strap to keep pages from sliding around during travel. This was the most valuable and exciting present I received last Christmas.

~ Prismacolor Premier Colored Pencils – If your girl is a developing artist who wants to take her artwork to the next level, treat her to a set of professional media such as these premier colored pencils. They are softer, smoother, and easier to blend than the cheap Crayola or Roseart varieties, allowing her more versatility with her expression. Make sure you also tag on a soft-lead sharpener, though, as normal sharpeners are too harsh for this delicate medium.

Jewelry

Does she gravitate toward anything shiny? Can she correctly say the word “chalcedony”? Does she set off airport security with the amount of metal she adorns herself with? Well, if every kiss begins with Kay’s, then every Ohhhhh Myyyyy! begins with o-riginality. Spoil her with one of these unique gifts this year:

~Handmade Jewelry from Etsy.com - Etsy is the “eBay for crafters,” and there is literally something for every taste. You can browse through thousands of pieces such as a sterling silver Mega Man pendant and an eco-friendly leaf pendant made from cement board, leaves, and guitar wire, or, if you are looking for something specific, many of the sellers will also take custom commissions for one-of-a-kind pieces.

~ThinkGeek.com also offers a small array of jewelry for the technically-minded geekette. Resistance is not futile with their matching earring and necklace set made from 1/4 watt resistors, and you can buy happiness with their serotonin molecule earrings.

~ Homemade Charm Bracelet – Get creative by starting a charm bracelet you can add to each holiday. Instead of buying generic and over-priced charms from a store, make your own by drilling a hole in found objects, such as game pieces or guitar picks, and attaching a clip. It’s a cost-effective, personal gift that shows how well you know her, and can hold a lifetime of memories and memorabilia.

Home Décor

Does she long for binary-patterned curtains? Is her original Labyrinth movie poster still hanging on the wall? Did she need to buy extra shelving in order to display her replica ship collection? Put your gift-giving skills on prominent display with one of these geek-themed décor items:

~ Lightsaber Candlestick – Sometimes it’s nice to just sith down to a fancy candlelit dinner, enjoy some Wol cabasshew salad, and talk about how many rebel fighters you destroyed at work. For those occasions, she’ll need this lightsaber candlestick to properly set the mood.

~ Pac-Man Fleece Blanket – If you’ve ever caught your girl “paku-paku-ing” around the house in search of cherries, she might like this retro-gaming blanket from Perpetual Kid featuring everyone’s favorite ghost-slaying pie-chart.

~ Art Nouveau Firefly Posters – Want to be the best gift-giver in the ‘verse? Head on over to ThinkGeek and pick up both sets, Les Hommes and Les Femmes, of these shiny, shiny new posters.

~ Glow in the Dark Moon Clock – You know the best thing about space? Space! If she is a total space cadet, get her this snazzy moon-shaped clock to decorate her control room, and fuel her intergalactic imagination.

~ 18” Geisha Shoji Lamp - If your girl owns more anime than live-action DVDs, views cosplay as serious business, or owns at least one J-Pop CD, she may appreciate this kawaii hand-painted table lamp inspired by traditional Japanese rice paper screens.

Clothing and Accessories

Does she wear her Call of Duty messenger bag with pride? Has she ever used cable ties to hold up her pants? Are most of her shirts printed with slogans that make Luddites stare wide-eyed in confusion? Help her befuddle and bemuse the hoi polloi with one of these quirky wearable gifts:

~ “She Blinded Me With Library Science” Tote – Now she can express her love of both reading and 80’s pop references while carrying her books to and from the library.

~ Circuit Board Headband – give her the motherboard of all tech-savvy gifts with this circuit board headband so she can hold back her locks in style. And if headbands aren’t her thing, try making her a circuit board belt buckle at home with this handy guide from HGTV.

~ Threadless T-shirts and Hoodies – No matter whether she is a Star Wars fangirl, a retro gamer, an eco-warrior artist, or a foodie, there is a shirt for her at Threadless. Designed by up-and-coming graphic artists, these shirts have character and originality, the perfect compliment to your unique geek.


Hopefully these suggestions have been mildly inspiring in some way, and have left you with the security of knowing that there are plenty of great gifts out there for all the geeky girls in your life. You can choose to ignore my suggestions, though, and brave the malls crowded with foaming, ravenous zomb… holiday shoppers, but don’t blame me when your girl hits you upside the head with that bottle of “artisan bath salts” you were convinced she’d like because it was in a magazine somewhere.

Man on the Moon

I heard a familiar sound clip on the radio on my way to work--entertainer Andy Kaufman's "Thank you very much." This was nothing new; radio stations make use of movie and TV sound clips sometimes, though I can't say I've ever heard anyone use that one before. I kept listening, expecting an announcer to come on or music to play, but then Jim Carrey started quoting lines from what I quickly identified as the 1999 movie Man on the Moon, in which he plays Andy Kaufman.

OK, so they were playing a few sound clips from the movie for some reason.

Hang on--they were playing the entire 60-second radio commercial for the movie.

I'm pretty sure I was doing the speed limit the whole way to work, as I don't recall hitting 88 miles an hour and traveling back to 1999.

The commercial was followed by an announcement of the year the commercial was from, and a return to regular music programming with R.E.M.'s "Man on the Moon," which I suspected might be up next. It's not completely uncommon to hear that particular song on the radio, but I've seldom heard anyone mention the film unless it's specifically in reference to Jim Carrey's career. Consequently, the commercial felt incredibly irrelevant, especially when acting as an introduction to a somewhat popular song that doesn't seem to warrant such an introduction.

Yet for those 60 seconds, I was living in the '90s again, and I had forgotten how much I missed those days.

Alex waxed nostalgic recently with Lithium, and though I'm really more of an '80s guy myself, I've got plenty of nostalgic waxing to do about the '90s as well. Yet, I have no strong associations with Man on the Moon; I remember a little bit of watching it on TV, and I still listen to selections from the soundtrack my friend got me one year, but that's the extent of it. Simply hearing an old radio commercial for this movie shouldn't have triggered a sudden compulsion to pop in a cassette tape and drive to my local FuncoLand to buy used SNES games.

I think it was more the concept than the content that broke me away from modern reality for those 60 seconds. The ad had character, showcasing the personalities and struggles of the characters in the film, and utilizing lines of dialogue with a real emotional impact. I'm struggling to think of a single movie or TV ad on the radio from the last decade that hasn't been some variation on the following:

DRAMATIC ANNOUNCER VOICE!

SOUNDS OF EXPLOSIONS AND VIOLENCE!

LINES OF DIALOGUE TAKEN OUT OF CONTEXT TO MAKE THE SITUATION SEEM MORE DIRE THAN IT REALLY IS!

DARK EXHORTATION TO WATCH WHAT'S BEING ADVERTISED, OR ELSE YOU WILL BE MISSING THE EVENT OF A LIFETIME!

In fact, as I'm thinking about the last decade, all that's coming to mind in terms of mainstream entertainment are remakes, reboots, the color blue (I have no idea why), and music that blurs the lines between genres I do and do not like, resulting in songs that are tolerable enough to listen to, if I have to. Perhaps all this was subconsciously running through my head during those 60 seconds; the commercial was so far removed on so many levels from what I'm used to hearing anymore, and it managed to drag me away from the last several years of what I perceive to be creative stagnation and a deviation from a focus on content in the entertainment world.

You don't need to tell me that the '90s weren't all sunshine and rainbow hippos. You also don't need to tell me how many wonderful advancements and new releases there have been over the last decade. This is not about rationality or fair comparisons. This is a gut reaction to a movie commercial that came out of the blue. (Out of the green, actually; the '90s feel more green to me).

This decade is looking a lot more promising so far in terms of entertainment; I think we needed to get whatever it was out of our systems that was preventing us from embracing our past, looking forward to the future, and keeping us mired in the present. Too much of a "future is now" mentality, perhaps.

Me? I'm content to live in the past and get caught up with the present once it's been around long enough to know what's worth catching up on.

December 8

John Lennon died today.

Silenced by the gun of a lunatic, one of the world's greatest and most important voices was extinguished 31 years ago. I wasn't around 31 years ago, so I never had the opportunity to hear a new song by John Lennon.

I never got to hear the man speak, or to see him perform in concert.

An entire lifetime's worth of songs, and messages, and creativity, gone.

Because of a man with a gun.

"I'm shot, I'm shot," Lennon muttered as he collapsed on the steps of the Dakota and began the grisly process of bleeding to death.

"Remember love. The only hope for any of us is peace. Violence begets violence. If you want to get peace, you can get it as soon as you like if we all pull together."

I am not a Lennon authority, or a Lennon historian, or an expert, or what have you. I am simply a fan and an admirer; someone who has been touched by a man who died before I was born and who had no connection to my family, other than that his were the songs of my mother and father's generation.

They would pass those songs and the messages within down to me.

I was a Beatles fan at a young age. One Christmas, my parents bought me every single Beatles album, including the then-new Anthology discs. At first, because I was young, I liked certain songs.

"When I was about twelve, I used to think I must be a genius, but nobody's noticed. Either I'm a genius or I'm mad, which is it? "No," I said, "I can't be mad because nobody's put me away; therefore I'm a genius." Genius is a form of madness and we're all that way. But I used to be coy about it, like me guitar playing. But if there's such a thing as genius — I am one. And if there isn't, I don't care."

"Let it Be" was an early favorite.

For the most part, I listened to the same tracks on the same records--mostly Let it Be--over and over again. I left a lot of the catalogue untouched, preferring instead to stick with those favorites.

And then I listened to Revolver.

I remember hearing that album for the first time and deciding shortly thereafter that it was my favorite Beatles album. It was different than the others. There was nothing overtly commercial about it (other than "Yellow Submarine," of course, but that was Ringo's!).

And then I listened to Rubber Soul. And, well, that changed everything for me. An album of staggering brilliance, Rubber Soul gave us "In My Life."

And I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I loved you more

As I got older, I started to read about John Lennon--not John the Beatle, mind you--but John Lennon the artist, John Lennon the man. There is a difference. I started listening to Lennon's solo albums; I started reading interviews conducted in the post-Beatles era.

The more I read, the more I liked. He was smart--much smarter than me--and witty, and funny, and so up on the latest news and politics. He had very strong beliefs, and instead of holding them inside he let those beliefs out. He shared them and he fought for them.

"For our last number, I'd like to ask your help. Would the people in the cheaper seats clap your hands. And the rest of you, if you'll just rattle your jewelry."

There were lots of things that John and Yoko did that seemed...well, they seemed strange. Weird. Avant-garde, even (though Lennon probably hated that term). I think a lot about the peace protests and Lennon's timeless Christmas song. I think about John Sinclair and I think about society today and how Lennon's voice would surely be just as important and vital now as it was back then.

"...part of our policy is not to be taken seriously because I think our opposition, whoever they may be, in all their manifest forms, don't know how to handle humor. You know, and we are humorous, we are, what are they, Laurel and Hardy. That's John and Yoko, and we stand a better chance under that guise because all the serious people, like Martin Luther King and Kennedy and Gandhi got shot."

I know that Lennon wasn't big on hero worship, and if he happened upon this post he'd likely think I have too much time on my hands. He'd probably also be pretty angry that I've posted this on the anniversary of his death, rather than, say, on his birthday.

"It's better to fade away like an old soldier than to burn out. I don't appreciate worship of dead Sid Vicious or of dead James Dean or of dead John Wayne. It's the same thing. Making Sid Vicious a hero, Jim Morrison — it's garbage to me. I worship the people who survive. Gloria Swanson, Greta Garbo."

Still, I wanted to say something today of some significance, but I don't want to deify anyone. Lennon was a flawed man, as we all are. His relationship with his first son was in stark opposition to the views expressed in his songs. He drank and he did drugs and, well, let's face it. He was one of the two reasons the Beatles broke up.

But in the end, Lennon left us with music filled with messages of peace and hope. To affect the thoughts and passions and lives of people many generations removed is truly special. His was a beautiful life, and one worth celebrating and worth remembering.

"All we are saying is give peace a chance."

Reunion

At last, I was married. All that was left was the party. And the honeymoon. And the rest of our lives. But I can see your eyes starting to gloss over, so I'll see what I can do about speeding this up.

It was great.

Join us tomorrow for our regular fare!





...OK, I guess I can tell you about the reception. I'll spotlight the two nerdiest points: table decorations and music selection (incidentally, my favorite parts of the planning process).

This is the part where everyone starts to think we had a Star Trek-themed wedding. While the invitations, my cufflinks, the medley of theme songs that played during one of the party games, the guest list indicating table assignments (with bogus invitees such as Roger Wilco from Space Quest and Jek Porkins from Star Wars), and the table markers were all clearly Star Trek-related, we weren't deliberately putting together a theme; it just happened that a bunch of our ideas were drawn from the same fandom.

We had wanted our table markers to be a little more creative than large-fonted numbers, and two pairs of my fellow GameCola staff members had already used some great ideas for their weddings that I didn't want to steal. (Well, I did, but I wasn't gonna.) So, after some brainstorming, the idea my bride-to-be and I liked best was to name each table after a class of starship.

Her plan was to make cutouts of various starships to put on the tables. I reminded her that she had flowers to make, and the wedding was three days away. We went with my plan instead: laminated paper with a different image of the chosen class of starship on each side, in the style of an LCARS computer display.

All table markers could easily double as placemats or posters for whichever guests brought them home. The classes we chose were partially limited by the size and quality of the images we could find--I value consistency, you know.

Per my wife-to-be's request, the head table was a Klingon Bird of Prey; the other tables were Starfleet ships, including Constitution, Constellation, Miranda, Akira, Defiant, Steamrunner, Nebula, and Oberth classes.

Our DJ was captain of an Intrepid-class turntable, and the table near the door was prepared to hold a Galaxy of gifts.

We had a rationale for most of our table assignments, but the one that caused the most ruckus was seating part of my wife's family at the Oberth table, directly next to our Bird of Prey table. "We're supposed to be the unarmed science vessel that gets blown up by Klingons in Star Trek III!?" was the outcry, to which my wife responded, "But you're my family! This is the table O'(my)birth!" I think you can guess which table marker wasn't taken home by any of the guests.

As for the music, we spent a good long time assembling a playlist for the reception. Our DJ provided us with a website where we could log in and add any songs we liked to our playlist, categorizing them as "Must Play," "Play if Possible," and "Do Not Play." My gal went in there first and populated the list with around 150 of the maximum of 300 songs the system would allow. I then filled up most of the rest of the list with songs I have saved on my home computer and from my Pandora playlists, urging my wife-to-be to shift at least a few of her requests to "Play if Possible" so that I might actually have a shot at getting any of my music played at the reception.

About a week before the wedding, our DJ informed us that we had requested over 10 hours of must-play music for our 4-hour reception. After some extensive calculations, I determined that this would preclude the possibility of anything getting played from our additional 10 hours of "Play if Possible" music.

The songs that did end up on the reception playlist offered a glimpse into just how eclectic our tastes in music are, and we were both very pleased with how it turned out. Some songs of possible interest include several video game tunes from OverClocked Remix, the original "Mah Nà Mah Nà" song on which the Muppets' famous sketch is based, the infamous "Numa Numa" song, Rocky Horror's "Time Warp," the Marrymore town theme from Super Mario RPG, and a few Japanese artists (Gackt and Marbell come to mind). The bride and groom entered to Lucca's theme from Chrono Trigger, and we closed off the evening with Europe's "The Final Countdown." The rest of the playlist consisted largely of occasionally mainstream 70's and 80's music, with sprinkles of 90's, Irish folk music, and etc. thrown in for good measure.

So there you have it: music and table decorations. Thus, the wedding story is complete. Well, as complete as is relevant to this blog. For now, anyhow.

Alright, so there's more to tell, but some stories are better suited to being told in person, and some stories are better suited for friends and family than every single person on the entire Internet. Hello, every single person on the entire Internet. Thanks for stopping by.

The last part of the saga is the honeymoon--or, as we've started calling it, the honeycat. If you can stomach just a little more marital bliss, find out how felines directly affected the outcome of our honeymoon in Part 7.

New Music

Anyone willing and able to look beyond the FM dial knows that there's a lot of good, new music out there.

Bands like Young the Giant, Florence and the Machine, and The Gaslight Anthem and vocalists like Ryan Adams and Adele prove that on a daily basis as they rise up the charts.

But as much as I'm enjoying discovering a new sound, sometimes it's nice to hear an old, familiar voice.

This week, Soundgarden and Audioslave lead singer Chris Cornell releases a live and acoustic album.

Including solo versions of classics I am the Highway, Doesn't Remind Me, and Black Hole Sun, among others, Songbook hits iTunes tomorrow.

Most important for me, though, is the inclusion of an incredible cover of John Lennon's Imagine.

Imagine is a song with a deep, meaningful resonance for a great many people. And any time another artist covers it--even if I don't usually like the artist--I'll try to give it a listen.

When it's someone like Chris Cornell, though, I'll definitely seek it out.

Last week I heard Cornell play Imagine on the Howard Stern Show and I have to say, it might have been the best cover of my favorite song.

So I'll be picking up (or downloading, I suppose) Songbook when it comes out tomorrow. And if you're interested, check out YouTube for video of Cornell channeling Lennon.

Because it's pretty spectacular.

Lithium Rocks

As a consumer, I tend to be pretty awesome. And by awesome I mean that I spend money on things I don't need and usually regret my purchases soon after they're made.

So I'm awesome for the guy selling the useless, regret-filled product.

That said, I do occasionally make a purchase that I don't regret. One such example has been my decision to add a Sirius/XM satellite radio to my car.

I have a pretty long commute to work each day, and having something of constantly high quality to listen to has helped my sanity. I can honestly say that some days, the best part of the day is spent in my car listening to a good clip of music or a killer talk show.

Sad? You try being a book editor, then you tell me.

Anydepression, this week I came across a channel on Sirius that I'd previously never heard of. See, I'm one of those people who, once I set my channels in the car, I keep them that way for the long haul.

So when a buddy mentioned that he listens to a station called Lithium pretty much nonstop, I was intrigued but a little hesitant to not be so set in my ways.

But after flipping through the stations on my way home the other day and coming up mostly empty in terms of a decent song, I decided to give this new station a try.

When I tuned to Lithium, I was immediately transported back to the mid-90s, my glory days of music listening.

Pearl Jam, Dave Matthews, Soul Asylum, Gin Blossoms, Smashing Pumpkins, Blink-182, Foo Fighters, Nirvana, The Offspring, Counting Crows, Green Day, Temple of the Dog...it just kept going.

And it was good stuff from these bands--Gone Away, Ants Marching, The Man Who Sold the World, My Hero, Rain King.

I know it makes me sound old, but sitting in the car heading home and listening to bands I grew up with really took me back.

With Lithium, the 90s don't seem like they're that far away.

Now THIS is Halloween!

I tell ya. If I had the talent, the time, the patience, the talent, the vision, and/or the talent to do something like this? I still probably wouldn't do it because of how...ridiculously difficult it must have been to accomplish.

Take a look at this video of a Halloween lights display synched up to the theme song from The Nightmare Before Christmas. It's probably the coolest thing I've seen all Halloween season.



And be sure to check out the designer's YouTube channel for more incredible displays.

Last Night...

...I was here:
And because I was there last night, I am in a very good mood today.

However, I am also on a deadline at work, so I don't have much time to write this morning. Which is fine, because I mostly wanted to just brag about how I saw Andrea Bocelli live in Central Park last night.

Sure it was cold. And rainy. And there were lines. But we managed to get around that pesky, 10,000-person deep line (don't ask), the rain stopped completely after the intermission, and the show was amazing.

Great friends, great music, great night.

I'd previously seen Bocelli in Florence--years ago and with the same friends I went to Central Park with last night--when he received an award. We all crowded into the event, hoping to hear him sing.

As I remember it (and, again, I've had a couple of concussions since then), there were people all over the place, angling for position to hear one song.

However, all he did was say thank you in Italian.

Ten years later, and we finally got to hear the man sing.

Enjoying the Passage of Time

Music has been a bigger part of my life than I tend to let on here. I grew up listening to the radio with my family; I've performed in several choirs over the years; I've attended a few concerts; I have well over 11,000 songs saved to my computer, and more on CDs that I never bothered to rip. I listen to music in the car, at work, and at home when I write. Music has had a bigger impact on my life than almost anything I've ever discussed here.

Not once in the history of this blog have I written anything about my favorite artist.

I've never met the man, and about all I know about him is that he struggled with drug addictions, that he has a bunch of musical children and relatives, and that he was once married to singer Carly Simon. I know very little else about him, other than that he has been a part of my life ever since I was born.

You might have guessed by now that I'm talking about James Taylor. My parents used to sing me to sleep with his songs when I was a baby, and it's no coincidence that "Sweet Baby James" has always held a special significance for me and for my mother. No matter how my musical tastes have changed over the years, James Taylor has been one of the few artists to remain a constant. I even sound like him when I sing sometimes, or so it sounds to me.

I enjoy JT's songs for the same kinds of reasons I enjoy anyone else's songs, but his music resonates with me in a way no one else's does. There's the connection my mother and I share with his music, not just from her singing me to sleep so long ago, but from singing those same songs together as I got older, with or without JT himself backing us up.

There is a comfort in listening to the music you grew up with, and it's that much more meaningful when it reminds you of the person or people you've shared it with. I've listened to James Taylor with a lot of people, but I have particularly strong memories of sharing his music with my mother, as well as with my fiancée and a few of my friends from middle/high school.

JT's lyrics also deal with issues I can relate to, with the kind of optimistic or reflective twists that keep even the most serious topics from being unbearably heavy. Addiction is one such issue; I've never been a drug addict (I don't even drink coffee!) but I understand what it's like to struggle with being too attached to things. I'm on a lifelong journey to sort out the details of what I believe about life, the universe, and everything; JT's songs explore both the search for belief and the life lessons learned. He's also a clever songwriter with a subtle sense of humor, and I appreciate the fresh perspective he brings to his topics (something I strive to do in my own writing).

I could go on, but I think it's sufficient at this point to say that I am a fan. Not a raving, merchandise-hungry, know-it-all fan, but someone who enjoys the melodies and has a personal investment in his music.

As my high school graduation present, my father got me tickets to see James Taylor live in concert.

The world stopped for a moment.

I wasn't the only one with a ticket, though; there were enough tickets to round up a small group, which ultimately consisted of a few friends from high school. And, of course, we were not leaving for a James Taylor concert without my mother. We were all riding in her van, for one thing. Naw, y'see, even though I was going with a group of friends, at the heart of it, this was a concert for me and Mom. Sharing it with friends just made it better.

Funny things stand out in your memory, and amidst the nervous excitement (I was finding it difficult to completely suppress the fanboy within me), I remember one thing very clearly: McDonald's. We stopped in at McDonald's for a bite to eat, and it was the first time I had seen them offer their McGriddles breakfast sandwiches, with the maple syrup-infused biscuit bun things. I will forever associate McGriddles with going to see James Taylor, which is perhaps why getting breakfast on road trips is more appealing to me nowadays.

Of course, I recall other things very clearly: the outdoor arena's hillside seating with the sea of people on folding chairs and beach towels; the big screens where we watched much of the distant performance; the pure joy of being able to see my favorite musician live in concert, and to share that with my friends and family.

Even though the stage was a fair piece down the hill from where we were sitting, I still had a pretty good view of James Taylor--the man who might never realize how much he's helped to shape my life through his music. It was charming and a little amusing to see this unassuming guy in his 50's, pretty firmly planted in front of the microphone, grooving in place to the music he and his band were playing, performing with every ounce of the skill and personal investment you hear on the recordings. There might not have been laser light shows and guitars smashed on the stage, but there didn't have to be. We were there for the music, and the company, and the little bit of dialogue between songs, and we were not disappointed.

Except when they got to the end of the show and had not played "Sweet Baby James." The one song, of all the songs, to not play.

JT and his band shuffled off. The roar of applause was enough to bring JT back onstage, alone with his guitar, for one last song. If memory serves, he played "Fire and Rain." Classic. Great way to end the show. And had it ended there, I still would have been highly satisfied at a great show. But it didn't end there. We got an honest-to-goodness encore.

An encore that concluded with "Sweet Baby James."

It's hard to describe what a perfect moment in life feels like. Absolutely everything was right with the world, and there was no world beyond my mother and myself on the hillside and the man on the stage below. This last song was an encore especially for us. Moments like that go a long way in sorting out what you believe about life, the universe, and everything.

Now, whenever I have a McGriddle, I have a little flashback. The chance to see my favorite music artist. The amazing performance. The people I got to share it with. That perfect moment in life.

That's one heck of a graduation gift, and I am exceedingly grateful for it.