Sunday, April 29, 2012

Chapel Hill



I've been home for about 5 hours and I'm still tired and woozy from my trip home from North Carolina. I've found that the easy, short trips are more taxing than traveling to the other side of the world. Perhaps that's because the smaller planes used for these 1-1 ½ hour flights are way too rocky for my hyper-sensitive motion sickness. Despite my fatigue, I had a most relaxing time out of town. All of the NYC tension I've been feeling for the last few months disappeared until I touched down at Newark Airport. In contrast to the quiet half-empty corridors of RDU that I strolled this morning was the cattle-call turmoil of the security lines that I glanced at as I made my way through Newark Airport on my way back to the city. That night-and-day difference pretty much sums up my long weekend.

We spent 3 days in Chapel Hill visiting family. We've been down there several times between the two of us and have always loved it. As trite as it sounds, the people in North Carolina are effusive in their kindness wherever you go. The disorientation I felt on my first day there was the effect of uncoiling the over-wound state of mind I have when I'm going about my business here in the city. It's easy to become oblivious to the concept that there are different ways of living that are probably healthier in the long run. For the longest time, I always believed that if you were interested in interesting films, music, and bookstores you had to live in either New York, LA, or San Francisco. Social media and entities like YouTube have pretty much obliterated the barriers to entry as we're all pretty much experiencing the same things no matter where we are sitting. In fact, I saw more flyers for a wider diversity of music in Chapel Hill than I see in the East Village. On top of that is the fact that one of my favorite all-time used bookstores is located just over the border in Carrboro NC. While New York still has things you'll never see outside of the city (like Philip Seymour Hoffman's powerful performance in “Death Of A Salesman”), there's enough going on in different pockets of the country to keep one satisfied- and for a much lower cost of living.

We've been contemplating the end of our New York residency for the last two years. The list of reasons to stay is becoming shorter as we remain here. I'm not sure we're ready to bolt just yet but we're beginning to think there's more to gain and less to lose by living elsewhere.

Photo courtesy of http://www.cardcow.com

Friday, April 6, 2012

Kurt





Today at work, a kid proposed “Flannel Fridays” as a work team-building activity. He went on to describe flannel shirts in the historical context of the 1990s music scene. To be honest, it was a well-written proposal given that this kid was maybe 7 or 8 years old back then. This spiel was notable to me because yesterday marked 18 years to the day that Kurt Cobain died. I still remember being at work in Seattle when someone came into our office to tell us that she heard on the radio that a body had been found in Kurt's house. As this was pre-Twitter and pre-TMZ, it took a while to confirm what had occurred up in that attic.

This event has become a milestone for a lot of us who came of age during those years. What I appreciated about Kurt Cobain was his ability to really hone in on moods rather than statements. His lyrics had a stream-of-consciousness vibe that seemed to come out so effortlessly. One of my favorites:

I'll start this off without any words
I got so high that I scratched 'til I bled
I love myself better than you
I know it's wrong so what should I do?

The finest day that I've ever had
Was when I learned to cry on command
I love myself better than you
I know it's wrong so what should I do?

And then the end:

And one more special message to go
And then I'm done and I can go home

As much as he's been touted as a generational statesman, he wasn't trying to make sweeping epic commentaries. He told us how he felt and he did it with a combination of raw punk energy and the the catchiest of pop hooks. If you don't think Kurt was a fan of more mainstream pop music, listen to the version of “About A Girl” from the MTV Unplugged album and just try to deny the obvious Beatles influence.

Perhaps one of the reasons I keep hanging onto memories of the Seattle 90s music scene is that it was the last time I can recall being truly moved by rock music. I don't know if it's my age, but it seems that a lot of what's out there today just goes through me without sticking to my gut. I'm not saying I don't like a lot of the newer bands; it's just that I don't see myself 18 years from now contemplating much of it or listening to it with any regularity. What keeps me in the game is the thought that somewhere in a basement, there's a kid with a crappy guitar and a beat-up amp who is on the brink of making me stand up and take notice once again.