How time flies

Curiously, almost exactly one year ago this very minute, I was in the vicinity of St. Louis.

We were passing through on our move to Boston.

Tonight, St. Louis -- or at least, its baseball team -- was passing through Boston. The Red Sox won the World Series tonight in the city for the first time since 1918.

Technically, it's Oct. 31 as I sit here. Which completes a full calendar year since our arrival Nov. 1, 2012.

What an amazing year it's been. I can hardly keep track of all the eventful things that have happened... a blizzard. Substitute teaching, my first week of which ended on the day of the Sandy Hook shootings just a couple of hours away. The marathon attack and its weird aftermath. A Stanley Cup final. The Whitey Bulger trial. The Aaron Hernandez murder(s?). Record heat. Blessed employment! Two horrific local crimes against young women that show the ugly side of life.

I've made major adjustments to my comfort zone... heavy usage of public transportation, dealing with the erratic persona of this place, living in a completely different environment. It's been fascinating, but...

... living here can be exhausting. The pace is frantic, and got even moreso when I began full-time work. I've stepped up my game, but I've had to.

Maybe the most disappointing aspect of life here is how difficult it is to make friends. My social circle has been small for a long time, and that's been by design -- the quality of friendship is much more important than the size of it. Individually, people here can be very warm and responsive, but collectively, there's a hardness and aloofness that is disappointing. I just don't want to succumb to that.

It's strange for me, this friend thing. It's like people are too busy for it. There is absolutely a bit of clannishness to it that seems to be in place... people run with the people they've run with for years, and few of the circles overlap. Plus it's hard to develop friends from your work contacts because there's always that line out there that no one knows for sure where it is, and when the discomfort begins.

I could probably riff on this a lot more, but even talking about it makes me feel odd.

Anyway. It's certainly been an interesting year. And if nothing else, it's served as a reminder that things can change very, very quickly. Will we be here in a year? Five years? Is this the place to put down roots? It's hard to know. Career-wise, things are going in a good direction. Life-wise, it's acceptable if a little socially stunted.

It's an interesting, stimulating place with lots of opportunities and potential, if a little cool. What will Year 2 bring?

Status

I'm tired.

Our schedules are not helping right now. There's pretty much something scheduled from 6:45 a.m. until about 1 or 2 a.m. every day. And no real way to avoid it.

Only the dogs are getting any sleep. I'm envious.

Theoretically things will get a little less crazy next month. Theoretically.

Oh life

So yeah, while I transition back into the life of a working man, I've been laying low, for a variety of reasons.

One of them is that I just don't have as much time anymore. I've developed a fondness for the ease of public transportation. The T has some issues, but overall it's kind of neat to walk out of my house and be where I need to be less than an hour later. It gives me time to survey the scene and kind of mentally get into it.

But, there's 10 hours less of day available for me now.

This is a good thing. My days are very busy. And I really like my new situation; the people are good, and dedicated. Naturally there is always a stump or two, but I'm driving around those potholes.

Last night we had a major project that required all hands on deck and a late night. The big boss sprung for pizza. I thought it would be nice to send a thank-you note; they probably don't get them very often. It was acknowledged almost immediately.

I like that. Especially here, there is a component of douchiness that I was surprised by. For a place with so much diversity and so much education, there are byproducts I didn't anticipate. A lot of people have a sense of entitlement and elitism that is pretty ugly. It shows up in different ways... the disregard for others in the form of trashing the streets, people in groups acting like asses (like last night at the Tasty Burger in Harvard Square), rude people (I'm looking at you, MacDude), aggressive and selfish drivers. Each of these examples are commonplace.

I've tried really hard to be the "nice" person in each of these settings. Hopefully it might spark some acceptance of the Social Contract.

In addition to not being able to write much, and while I am again grateful to have such a great job, in some ways I feel like I'm missing things. I'm just super busy. I have been working really hard to make a good impression at work, and then there are the usual life things one must do at home.

One thing all this has convinced me of is the importance of taking better care of my physical health. I need to get stronger. Time to stop talking and start chalking.

Mr. Steely Dan Whatever

My first concert was in August 1973 at the Cotton Bowl in Dallas.

Elton John was touring in support of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. An epic album.

His opening act was a little band called Steely Dan. I didn't realize at the time how fortunate I was to see them, because soon they would retreat to the studio and cease touring. 

In 1973, they had just released the followup, Countdown to Ecstasy, to their huge debut smash, Can't Buy A Thrill.

Like a lot of acts I like, they defy easy categorization. Talking Heads, the Verve, Radiohead all fit into this category. They're true originals.

People who weren't around in the 70s sometimes have a hard time accessing the Dan. It was the same way then. In a time where rock had transitioned from the glorious sounds of the 60s, you had a softening (such as Elton, or the Eagles, or Chicago) taking over. Then you had disco. OMG, disco. It wasn't until punk burst onto the scene in the late 70s that it was safe to rock again. Their sound never fit into any of those cubbies. Detractors ragged them for being ... something else. I never quite got the argument. Outsiders.

Steely rocked, but really never dabbled much in the mainstream of the time. Instead, these wry, cynical New Yorkers made jazzy, crisply produced layered music with lyrics that were cleverly subversive. The irresistibly catchy "Kid Charlemagne" may be one of the best examples of this; it's so fun yet describes a world so corrupt and characters far beyond the socially acceptable. Wrapped up in such beautiful sounds, Steely was really an outlaw in our eyes.

For anyone who was socially awkward -- say, a too-large teenager in 70s Texas who liked reading books, as a theoretical -- the persona we picked up from Steely's main men, Walter Becker and Donald Fagen, provided a safe place. Here were guys who were clearly damned good, and successful. But they were also seemingly a bit aloof, reclusive, perhaps somewhat nerdy, opinionated, smart-mouthed but smart, socially conscious and aware (not to mention self-aware) -- and yes, socially awkward.

They gave voice to those of us who spent way too much time worrying about shit that would soon sort itself out anyway, hopefully while we were growing out of our awkwardness.

They seemed like dorks who somehow got invited to the party. A little like Farmer Ted in Sixteen Candles, or McLovin in Superbad. Once you got to know them, you realized how cool they really were. And once they got to the party, they didn't lose who they were. They remembered being on the outside, being the last one picked at sports. They came to the party, but they didn't become insiders, they became the ones who had never sold out their values and thus were able to stay above the maelstrom of horseshit. You identified with them. (Well, at least, I did.) 

This position suited them perfectly to go back into their studio caves and write scathing rips of what constituted 70s LA "society." And yet they never lost their heart. They couldn't believe the artifice of the world they found themselves in -- and the idiots they made fun of sucked up to them and gave them ringside seats to the circus. Nevertheless, as they went back and crafted these beautiful, rich, lush songs that hid turdburgers (with onions!) for the Jet Set.

For those of us with them, it was delightful. We got the joke. I wonder if the butts of them ever did.

I've just loved these guys forever. Hell -- this blog is named after one of their lyrics.

M has been surprised that I've been so excited about seeing them in a couple of weeks. They're playing two nights here -- one night they're doing Aja in its entirety, in sequence, and the next night a "Greatest Hits" show.

I only remember a few things about seeing them in 1973. I know they opened with "Bodhisattva" and that it fucking rocked. (And was immortalized in a live version from '74 in Santa Monica when a drunken roadie hilariously stumbled through an introduction -- you MUST listen to it sometime.) I seem to recall the "hits" "Reelin' in the Years," "Dirty Work," "Do It Again," and stuff from Countdown. "Show Biz Kids" (they said "fuck," pretty scandalous in 1973), probably "My Old School." I know they did "King of the World." I hope they did "The Boston Rag."

I loved Elton, and remember his opener ("Love Lies Bleeding/Candle in the Wind") and it was great. But I remember more about the Steely show.

This tour, they've been doing about 20 songs a night. I'm going to pick some I'd love to hear. To me, almost everything they did over the course of seven albums released over the eight years between 1972-80 was a "hit." 

Here's what my dream Steely concert would have, from each album:

Can't Buy A Thrill: Do It Again, Dirty Work, Reelin' In The Years, Brooklyn. I'd also love to hear Only A Fool Would Say That. Change of the Guard would be cool, too. There's almost no chance that they'll do anything other than Do It Again and Reelin. Pity.

Countdown to Ecstasy: Bodhisattva, The Boston Rag (duh), Show Biz Kids, My Old School. Bodhisattva and My Old School are locks. Rag has a chance; they've played it here before.

Pretzel Logic: Rikki Don't Lose That Number, Any Major Dude Will Tell You, Pretzel Logic. All three have a chance. Rikki's a lock.

Katy Lied: My least-favorite album, outside of maybe Black Friday, nothing here is a must for me.

The Royal Scam: Play the whole goddam thing! They're actually doing this in New York on Oct. 3. Hey, I don't have to work that day... Anyway, they must play Kid Charlemagne. Would sure love Don't Take Me Alive and Haitian Divorce.

Aja: In anticipation of this show, I've been revisiting this. What an amazing album. I used to not love Peg so much because it was so ubiquitous, and, Yah Moe Be. They won't play I Got The News, but if they do... wow. Really hopeful to hear Aja and Josie.

Gaucho: When this album came out the band was in turmoil, and we all knew it would be their last. It was a terrible realization, that it was over (Except it wasn't, but that's another story). I remember the night I bought this and came home and we listened to the album. As the last notes of "Third World Man" played out, I was filled with an overwhelming sadness that Steely Dan was over. Seven amazing stories told in song.

So there you have it. In a show where they'll play maybe 20 songs, I have 42 I want to hear.

I guess that means I'll have a good time.

(NOTE: Theoretically my first concert could be considered a performance by Dolly Parton and Porter Wagoner at the Texas State Prison Rodeo. Oddly enough, I saw both the rodeo and those country acts on a church trip in October 1971. I'm not counting this as my first concert.)

Busy bee

Seriously.

In my long time of funemployment, I had a lot of time to write, but I also made the most of my time by being a dedicated housefrau: I didn't do *all* the laundry, dishes, vacuuming, yard maintenance, etc and so forth, but I did a lot of it. It was only fair. It was my contribution to the effort.

I've slacked off a bit on some of that, although this morning I've done a lot of domestic stuff, like start some laundry, tend to the dogs/dog yard items (ahem), wash the dishes, and generally straightening out the house. I've got to do some of the other things to but I'm probably going to push those into the next days.

And of course, the job is taking up time. I've been using the T to get to and from work more and more. I kind of like it, but it does require a time commitment in itself. I don't like being late so I make myself get there early.

The job itself is beyond great. I like my co-workers a lot. My time spent at work is productive, stimulating, and not incidentally, revenue-positive.

Anyway. Time to write has been harder to come by.

Other than the glorious California summer of 2000, this has been my most pleasant summer. It's typically humid here, but the temperatures have generally stayed below 90. I'll take it.

I think you'll hear more from me as things settle down and transitions into fall. By then the routine should be set. It's hard to believe that 10 months ago we were about to embark upon this adventure... it's been a damned eventful stretch.

Sometimes it still doesn't seem real to me. Something happens and it's driven home: A seagull caws, reminding me that we live on the ocean. The skyline still amazes me. The hardest part is to still not feel fully a part of it. How long does assimilation take?

17 August 2013

"Buy the ticket, take the ride." — Hunter S. Thompson

Some days are up, some are down.

Lately, they've been up. It won't stay that way, but for now, I'm going to take HST's words to heart and just go with it.

The new job is going well beyond my wildest dreams. I really like the people I work with, but I think more than anything my attitude is paying dividends. Some of you have worked with me before and know I can be... difficult. I still believe it comes from the right place: I always want to do a good job and expect everyone else to have that as Job 1. I have little tolerance for passengers, slackers, phonies, suck-ups and politicians. Half of the last six places I worked were chock-full of those types, and another was an ongoing struggle between people who wanted to shine and a powerful handful riding a quasi-governmental institutional bloat down like Major Kong's final trip.

The heat broke a few weeks ago, and it's been livable, except when it's been amazing. A handful of cool nights into the 50s; the windows open, the dreams vivid.

We bought a couch; it arrived yesterday. It's so nice I don't want to use it. It's a "grown up" thing to do and I'm embracing a larger sense of responsibility right now. I want to do better. I want to live better. 

To that end I've been trying to put things in order. In a world of chaos, it's helpful to administer as much control as you can over your environment.

If you're open to it, you can take a ride and it can be better than you hoped. In the past many years I've had catastrophic events — failed relationships, unanticipated job losses, financial crises among them — and fantastic adventures. 

In those down times I never thought I would be where I am today. I have a partner who believes in me and who has fought for me, who has refused to give up on me even when I had given up on me. I live in a fascinating city and it is as contradictory as life itself: Sometimes beautiful, occasionally maddening, always interesting. I have three dogs, when I really didn't even want one.

I didn't expect this, but I went with it. I bought the ticket. I'm taking the ride.

Go with it.

Whitey

So the inevitable guilty verdicts came in yesterday against Southie mobster James "Whitey" Bulger.

I now trod every day the same streets where Whitey was born and ruled with an iron hand. From the sixth floor, I see the neighborhood where he intimidated everyone who had ever even heard of him. I am mere blocks from a home where he murdered and buried three of his victims.

Last night after the verdict I spent some time reading up on his crimes, looking at murder-scene photos, learning about the 11 people he killed and the eight others he is suspected of killing.

Whitey Bulger is a monster. A real monster. He was a ruthless murderer and criminal, constricted by nothing. If he wanted you dead, you were dead. He was a rapist, a pedophile, a thief ... and he was brutal, cold and calculating.

Unlike shiny dons we imagine (like Corleone or Gotti or even Soprano), Whitey was basically just common street trash who leveraged his way to a shaky empire. He was no master criminal, he was just a weasel with big balls who wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. Hell, it appears that he loved that part of his job: the killing, the instilling of fear, the "just-crazy-enough" persona that made people avert their eyes and cross the street when they saw him coming.

Whitey's lieutenant Stevie Flemmi was vice-monster. One story is particularly repulsive. Flemmi got involved with his 15-year-old stepdaughter, eventually killing her. The two scumbags also killed another young woman who thought her close position would protect her.

On the day that they decided to murder the stepdaughter, Flemmi first took her shopping. Then they headed home, where Flemmi later testified they were to kill her. Bulger strangled her. Then Flemmi began to pull out her teeth with a pair of pliers to make identification of her body more difficult.

I began to wonder: what happens next?

At the end of that day, these animals went to bed. Did they reflect? What must that have been like?

"Wow, I'm tired. Strangling someone is a lot harder than just shooting them. I really should maybe tone my arms a bit. And damn, those teeth! Gotta remember to throw those into the ocean tomorrow. Huh, tomorrow... crap, really need to bury that body. I guess I could set fire to it. Wonder if anyone knows a good crematorium somewhere."

How can one disconnect their humanity enough to commit crimes like that? This isn't a crime of passion; this is a crime of choice. This is "just business."

I've always enjoyed the "mobster fiction" of The Godfather, The Sopranos, etc. But today I feel a little differently about it because today it's a lot more real. It happened near where I live, and it was gruesome and scary.