it wouldn't be so bad if it were just like this forever

good morning ~

(click the link / muzak knob to listen)

My Big Breakit wouldn't so bad if it were just like this forever

today’s track was recorded at Wasserman Projects in Detroit on a loaned cassette tape four-track and then digitally collaged together

gigging this weekend: on Saturday I’ll be doing some kind of clarifying drone set for the Fun Facts album release carnival at Unruly Collective in Brooklyn which, in addition to celebrating their cute new album, will also feature an actual wizard as MC.

also - we’re bringing back New Year’s Eve Eve for the third year in a row at Avalon - - more on that later

As I slip out of the little coffee shop downtown I heard a tremendous commotion overhead. It's otherwise quiet on a Sunday morning - library's closed, the only other people around are those begrudgingly walking their dogs. So I am taken aback when the honking begins. It's a common, melancholy sight in this part of the world at this time of year to see the dutiful Vs of geese chugging along across the sky - shorter days, avian commutes, first blush of winter. They're the ship's prow of seasonal depression, the cattle catcher of the freight train of the cold months, the point of their formation pushes the last few days of the remaining year out of the way. And usually a few snatches of their conversations echo forth from above, little blasts of free jazz receding into the distance. But this morning's site is different, because the sky continues to swell in unbelievable numbers. Above me are more geese than I have ever seen at once in my life by a wide, wide margin. The sky darkens with them, V upon V, it approaches the biblical, they're making an undeniable uproar. Plus, I notice, they are flying the wrong way, crossing the one intersection of our little town northeasterly. Where are they heading?

I spent my first true day of unemployment in grand fashion in Buffalo, NY. My first cup of coffee came courtesy of the Best Western's continental breakfast and unfortunately my attempt to turn the TV off is quickly reversed by the attendant. Coffee number two was an impressively good americano from an acceptably considered spot near the museum. We bobbed and weaved through the visiting school groups taking in the early computer works, angular lines in high contrast. Someone in white gloves came around and made an announcement: "We're about to spin the painting if you'd like to join us." It was just like that - gingerly stepping around the ankle height wire barrier she led the center piece of the first room through one elegant ballroom rotation, its angles and ratios changing relative to our eyes. Everyone clapped, then we tore through the rest, seeing what we could see.

I drove my wife to the university and dropped her off for a long day of visiting. I had the whole day ahead of me and was feeling alive in the awesome silence of having deleted my work email from my phone. Freedom! My time was mine to spend - I had a full tank of gas and life by the balls. So I drove back to the hotel and spent the next few hours filling out paperwork, nagging people, scheduling meetings, and trying to find a sturdy next step.

Eventually I grew tired of the sluggish WiFi and ventured out on foot. I read somewhere that a pizza place around the corner made "the city's favorite vegan wings," seemed as good a lunch option as any other. I reconsidered my recent vegetarianism. As the afternoon got on a thick, misty blanket settled over the city, severely limiting visibility. I dwelled on the metaphor - I can only see what's right in front of me - but undaunted I started dutifully following a map of a walking tour of the neighborhood.

I found myself at the historic mansion house where Teddy Roosevelt was inaugurated, talking to the three bored men with antique styles of facial hair. I had missed the last tour of the day, but one was willing to show me around personally and he led me through the museum displays and the hallways of the manor. As he described the 1901 assassination of William McKinley at the Pan-American Exposition - right up the road from where we then stood. I tried to suss out the attitude of the guy giving me the private tour - did he sympathize in any way with Leon Czolgosz's turn-of-the-century anarchism? And watching the last couple of weeks unfold, how did he consider the resonances of a modern act of political violence? At this point as far as I had heard the assassin was still at large. But this guy kept his focus squarely on the past as he pointed to the spot in the floor where Teddy took his oath. Much of the room is reconstructed, he admitted, but the clock on the mantle is original. Time keeps a watch on us all.

I walked around for an hour or so but the sun had set and I was wet and freezing, so I went to grab a couple of donuts and coffee number three from a place my Canadian friend had recommended. I had hoped to huddle at a tiny table getting warm, but they offered no seating, so I sat in my idling car frantically refreshing the news - they had maybe gotten the guy - and my email inbox - is my life back to normal yet? All I got were literal and metaphorical crumbs.

Back at the hotel I discovered that the treadmill in their fitness center was broken. Another metaphor? I exerted myself on the elliptical machine and lost myself in episodes of 30 Rock, a show that started, like, twenty years ago. I went to pick my wife up and housed a falafel salad waiting for her dinner with the faculty and grad students to wrap. On the way back we stopped info a food co-op for a box of tension tamer and sipped it from paper cups. This was it - the rest of my life minus one day in Buffalo. We fell asleep listening to a podcast and it wouldn't so bad if it were just like this forever.

By the way the huge swarm of geese were on their way to a placid bend of the Hudson River where they gathered in an amicable, chatty flotilla. They were on their way to somewhere else, somewhere better and warmer, they were beating their wings frantically to get there, but I caught them on their break. I watched them rest and realized I, too, was resting.

But what about you? Done any good walk arounds lately? Do you have any thoughts about historical assassinations past or present? How did computer become cause of and solution to all our problems?