I heard about this album a few weeks ago called The Muppets: The Green Album and I thought, oh, that’s cute. I think I heard one song off of it and forgot about it. But today being one of my Monday’s off, I stumbled across it again and gave the whole thing a listen.
Admittedly biased due to my love of Kermit, but put that aside and you still have something beautiful. The artists alone are worth perking your ears up: Weezer, The Fray, My Morning Jacket and Andrew Bird. They all come together and pay homage to not just the Muppets and Jim Henson — but maybe more importantly they spotlight all the sunny, trippy, happy beats of childhood (at least my childhood of the 70s and 80s).
Indeed, it makes it not feel so false when you think you can go back there someday—no, not as the child for sure—but as the human that lived the child’s life.
Please listen, buy, and support public radio and television. It’s worth it:
I’ll let the pictures tell most of the tale — but everyone I talked to said they had a blast. It was fantastic seeing so many old friends and family from both sides show up and have a good time. Just wish the weekend could have gone on longer.
Posted in Age, birthdays, Dance, Drink, Family, festivities, Food, Friends, Live Music, love, memory, Wine
The old man turned 70 on April 3rd and this weekend we will celebrate this milestone of time at the Mentone Springs Hotel — a building he began saving in 1980. Lots of friends and family are going to gather and eat cake — there may even be singing and poetry recitals. There will definitely be music provided by our longtime friend Terry with Critter on the fiddle.
So, along with all the well-deserved celebrating, some funny things have happened along the way. One being that it was recommended to have a write up in the local paper talking about the “savior” of the Mentone Springs turning 70. Naturally this cracks me up. We’ve always joked about dad’s Jesus complex and how he is adamant that he can fix anything. I’ve seen him jack up an old hotel with railroad jacks, blow torch tar to stop rain from seeping, prop a sagging floor up while the people above were dancing on it, move earth to make a pond more scenic—the whole time arguing with anyone that tells him it can’t be done. His response to that limited thinking has always been “bullshit”. And then he proves them wrong — almost every time. So now he gets to be called savior. I protest the usage of the word, but not the gist behind it.
Job well done papasahn. Just don’t let it go to your head.
I’ve just been reading the NYTimes article about the Winter Solstice. It brought back Rome and my teenage years and rambling in the woods and all the mythology of my life so far. There is a whole life of shadow and another of the Sun that we can’t even begin to pinpoint within ourselves. Yet I do intend to try soon.
This past weekend I was able to participate in a lighting of a fire, this time it was burning rum off of chocolate to make a really tasty mousse — regardless of the reason, this convergence of themes has reminded me to light the fires of the things we need to get rid of. So I’m going to collect those bits of consciousness and memory and acknowledge that I’ve learned from their pain/experience/moment and then I’m going to burn them on their little scrapes of paper. I’m going to celebrate the fear and cycle of life with every little flicker. Allow them to lift off and enter the inky dark. I’ll see the new that comes from it.
Happy Winter Solstice!
Weather: August and sticky — normal for this time of year.
Work: busy and noisy — also normal for this time of year.
Personal: quiet with showers of socialization.
Life: exceptionally good — for reasons I still can’t figure out.
Sorry it’s such spotty posts. I do know there are some of you out there still. I want to inspire and create and enrage — but all I can do is be what I’m right now and that is comfortable, happy, sort of empty and thoroughly overwhelmed with work, play, Braves, August, friends and family.
My dad wrote a poem though. I keep re-reading it. Not sure what to say about it. It’s different for him. On a personal level it brought up a ton of memories from childhood–mainly good ones. You know the type I mean. The ones that sort live in a golden bubble — yet they still have the honest red clay and ants on brick walls. Something like that. Anyway, what can I say — at least someone is writing in my family and it’s good.
I’ll get there though. The competitive streak in me will not let dad win.
Looking out over 75/85 and a power grid, I can almost pretend it’s August in Atlanta. There is haze masquerading as smog and uncertainty. If it weren’t for the small bits of snow and ice clinging to the shadows, I’d almost believe the mirage.
It’s a universal occurrence, really. The people I talk to are forgetful or unclear of what is going on. My friends are all lulled by their dreams into shadow realities. Keys disappear from their rings. Longtime residents of a city suddenly are lost. I don’t know if the weather is causing it, or if we are harnessing our doubts and releasing them into the stratosphere where they gather north of Atlanta in a grayish, pinkish surreal layer.
Who knows which came first. More importantly, who cares? Seize it. Open your mind wide to the shroud around you and embrace the unknown murky depths, the hidden or erroneously placed thought. Just roll in the fact we know nothing, we forget everything and a cold wind still blows.
Soulpancake is a fun site that tries to give voice to all of us out there in answering life’s big questions. If you’ve never checked it out, and you like to contemplate the depth of the well, then you should hop over there. (Thanks Shelby for introducing it to me.)
I am not an incredibly active participant. Occasionally I’ll answer a question. Today was one such day. They asked what are the top 5 things you miss. Since most of you do not Twitter me or Facebook me (or any of the other obnoxious, highly entertaining ways people communicate now) I thought I’d post mine here. But really do go and read some of the other answers. It’s nice and personal and somehow encouraging.
In no real order mine are:
- The feeling that everything was mysterious, connected and somewhat magical.
- Time away from technology.
- Guilt free swilling of coca-cola and eating hostess cupcakes.
- Mixed tapes, mohawks, leather jackets and the ability to appreciate punk (i.e being 16).
- My cat Skunk Ape.
Naturally I’ve lost people in my life who would make the list — namely my grandmother, grandfather and aunt — but there are others that miss them more and to put them in a list doesn’t seem fair to them. For the same reason Skunk Ape was almost excluded, but if I had to prioritize my list, she would be the number one thing I miss.
What would your top 5 be?
(Oh, and the series Northern Exposure almost made the list. )