ON THE INTERNET, A SITE THAT IS AWESOME.
No website in recent memory has made me as happy as Huxtable Hotness.
ON THE INTERNET, WRITING.
I think this is a beautiful post. Here is one of my favorite parts:
I am saying that closing your mind to sincerity and praise and appreciation might be the first step in squandering the fucking awesome human condition you possess. Please do not close your mind to the not-small epiphany that epic joy exists.
ON THE INTERNET, CRAZY DREAMERS.
I just finished re-reading Swamplandia!, and it still amazing to me in a way that no other book has been lately. I loved it even more than I did the first time. My love for this book is a breathless kind of love. In that it actually makes me hold my breath. I think I will keep reading it and loving it forever. Here is a part that I somehow glossed over the first time around but this time stopped me in my tracks:
Heaven would be a comfy armchair, Kiwi decided…beige and golden upholstery, beige and golden wallpaper (what he was actually picturing here, he realized, was the pattern of his mother’s brown rosettes on their curtains). You’d get a great, private phonograph, and all of eternity to listen to your life’s melody. You could isolate your one life out of the cacophonous galaxy — the a cappella version — or you could play it back with its accompaniment, embedded in the brass and strings of mothers, fathers, sisters, windfalls and failures, percussive cities of strangers. You could play it forward or backward, back and back, and listen to the future of your past. You could lift the needle at whim, defeating Time.
I realize this song is old news, but it’s still kind of new to me, and I haven’t been able to stop listening to it for months and months. It Does Something To Me. Here it is.
I first fell in love with the Weepies in 2006, and though I haven’t listened to them as much in recent years as I did back then, the fact remains that for a while they occupied a huge portion of the musical part of my mind, and I don’t think I’ve been on a run in five years when I didn’t spend a glorious two minutes and forty-five seconds in step with The World Spins Madly On.
They’d never played in my part of the world until Saturday night, so I rounded up B. and we ate some chicken andouille gumbo and shrimp maque choux and shrimp etouffee (and he ate rabbit but let’s not speak of that) and we had some Sazeracs & Saints-themed black & gold ice cream (French vanilla and chicory ice cream with oreos and chocolate chips!) and I felt so in love with New Orleans.
And then we went to see the Weepies at Tipitina’s, and it will come to no one’s surprise that my tears started a-fallin’ with the first strum of the first chord of the first song (which was Nobody Knows Me At All, for the fans among you). From Stars and Slow Pony Home to Jolene and Somebody Loved, they played pretty much all of my favorites. (Jolene: the third song called Jolene I’ve loved in my life. How is this possible? It just is. #1 and #2. “Now I only think about you if it’s raining or it’s not.” Yep.)
Anyway, you could feel the love and ease between them onstage, and they’re such lovely vocalists and musicians and artists, and it was perfect. The thing about the Weepies is that they are just nice people who write nice songs about nice things, like pink magnolias and stars and simple lives and sunny days. And that is exactly what my heart needs sometimes and what it needed this weekend.