I’ve spent a large chunk of this weekend reading Our Band Could Be Your Life by Michael Azerrad, a glorious chronicle of the indie bands I grew up with, and I’m struck by two things:
1. It’s a fucking great book that makes me want to stop writing about music.
2. It’s a fucking great book that makes me want to get better at writing.
The internet dating thing isn’t panning out like I had hoped. It seems like you have to work just as hard in the online realm as you do in real life. That’s not good for me. Every once in a while someone views my profile, but that’s about it. I guess the market for divorced 40-year old men isn’t what I’d hoped. As for me contacting someone…forget it. Just like in real life, it’s too stressful a thought to entertain. And so, here I am listening alone to the Smiths late on a Sunday night.
That last bit seems pretty depressing, but it’s not all despair around here. My daughter is fucking awesome, a great dancer, and the life of the party. We went out to lunch today and she wore bunny ears the whole time. No particular reason, she just wanted to. Never did it occur to her to feel self-conscious, and I hope that never leaves her.
The Celtics closed out Cleveland this afternoon due to a superhuman effort by Paul Pierce. The Celts are the reason I haven’t really gotten into the Red Sox yet this season. I watched the Celtics a lot during the winter of ‘07 because I had just moved into my own place and I didn’t have anything else to do. They were totally terrible (only 24 wins that year), but for some reason I kept watching. During the off-season they traded for Ray Allen and Kevin Garnett, and suddenly they transformed into the most formidable unit in the NBA. I watched almost every Celtics game this season even though I’m not really a basketball fan. I even went so far as to buy a ticket for Game Seven against Atlanta. I just had a weird feeling that I had to be there. I’m starting to feel like Richard Dreyfuss in Close Encounters. If you see me drawing shamrocks in my mashed potatoes you’ll know why.
Random song (because everyone loves a random song):
“Academy Fight Song” by Mission Of Burma
Perhaps the saddest story in Our Band Could Be Your Life, they were a challenging and serious band that never broke through, in part, simply because they pre-dated the underground support network that kept a lot of bands alive during the ’80’s. I took some lessons from their guitar player, Roger Miller, and I never could muster up the courage to ask him how to play this song.
