I feel bad. As a loyal Olympics viewer and long-time blogger, I’ve shirked my responsibilities waiting until after this year’s Winter Olympics wrapped up to share any thoughts. Yeah, we were watching the games pretty much every evening. But with the oddness of this year’s time difference, there was usually one thing on a night that I was interested in.
I think this could be a problem going forward, as this is the first of three-straight Olympics to be hosted in Asia.
Chart Week: February 18, 1984 Song: “I Guess That’s Why They Call It the Blues” - Elton John Chart Position: #18, 17th week on the chart. Peaked at #4 the week of January 28, 1984.
A countdown from 1984, my favorite musical year! So many fantastic songs to pick from. “Thriller” had just hit the top 10 in its second week in the top 40, the fastest rising song since 1972.
All of a sudden I have a glut of new music. Which is a good thing, of course. Sadly, it’s still all singles; no good album releases today, at least that I’ve seen so far. I did add two more exciting releases to April and May this week, so spring promises to be a beast.
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“Always Ascending” - Franz Ferdinand. Not crazy about their new album, but this song, after its slow build, hits all the right FF spots: ass-shakin’ indie rock.
After you have a parent die, you think of them in odd moments and ways.
Example: one day last fall I was shaving. As I stood there, scraping metal against skin and stubble, for some reason my brain jumped back 31 years to the night my stepdad taught me how to shave. I remembered him showing me the proper amount of pressure to use, how to avoid nicking the edges of my lips but still get the area around them cleaned up, and his amazement at my ability to shave with either hand.
I’m working on a couple longer, more personal writing pieces to share over the next couple days. Thus, rather than writing about the Olympics or college hoops, I’ll share another link from my Instapaper stash.
I had planned on doing a What I’m Watching post before the holidays. That, obviously, kind of went to shit and is tough to recreate now since most of the shows I was watching then have wrapped up their seasons or are on hiatus.
I tried writing several introductory paragraphs for this piece. But they all felt wrong, probably because this is such a wonderfully written essay. So just go read it and enjoy it like I did.
Unpacking Forty Years of Fandom For a Losing Team
I found myself watching the entire NBA All Star Game last night. That was kind of a surprise because that’s not something I’ve done very often in, oh, 20 years or so. Plus the Olympics were on, with some decent live coverage that didn’t revolve around four hours of figure skating for once. But L was excited to see Steph and Victor Oladipo, so we started watching and then I kept it on after she went to bed.
Chart Week: Feb. 7, 1981 Songs/Chart Positions: “Killin’ Time” - Fred Knoblock and Susan Anton, #28 “Smoky Mountain Rain” - Ronnie Millsap, #27 “I Made It Through the Rain” - Barry Manilow, #26
My normal Sunday routine is to get up sometime between 8:00 and 8:30, watch the local news long enough to check the weather, and then move into the kitchen to have breakfast. While eating I flip on the radio to check the week’s American Top 40.
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“Lovesick on a Hotel Wildfire” - Korey Dane. This is a song Spotify sent my way, and I’m glad it did. Apparently I’ve heard a couple of Dane’s songs before, although I did not recall his name. He’s been called a “stoner Springsteen,” and this song certainly fits that vibe.
“Name For You - Flipped” - The Shins. A few weeks back Strand of Oaks released his Harder Love album, which featured both different versions of songs from last year’s Hard Love and songs that had been recorded in its sessions but did not make the final album.
I have a few more books to share, but this time I will do something a little different: write about a book I have not finished yet.
I looked into the site’s archives and couldn’t find a direct reference, but I’m pretty sure one of the reasons I started writing about the books I read here is because of the influence of Nick Hornby’s “Stuff I’ve Been Reading” column in The Believer magazine.
This Big 12 basketball season is exhausting. Every time I look at the schedule, checking the next 2–3 games, there is never a break. Every game comes with a series of questions and perils. There have been years when the top has been better, when you could look at the top 2–4 teams and think they all have a shot to get to the Final Four, but those years also often featured a couple teams at the bottom that everyone could pencil in for wins.
This is has nothing to do with the Olympics but is a must-watch. It is equally amazing and creepy. The best parts are about halfway through this piece, when you see the ice surface flexing and then cracking after Marten Ajne skates across it.
I can’t ice skate, so I’ve never been tempting to go out on our lake when it freezes over in the winter. And even if I could, I would always be nervous about how thick the ice is, especially since our lake gets very deep very quickly.
It was a big week for L.
Last Thursday was St. P’s annual leadership day, where they invite other schools to come in and take a look at several of the leadership programs they run for the students. Last year L got to give a brief speech about her experiences in the program.[1] This year she took a big step up and got to be one of the two student hosts of the sessions.
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“Get Out” - CHVRCHES. First single off their next album, and it sounds as shiny and glorious as their songs from the past.
“The Louder I Call, The Faster It Runs” - Wye Oak. Another first single from an up-coming album. It looks like Wye Oak will be sticking with the more electronic sound they adopted for their last album, and which Jenn Wasner uses in her side project Flock of Dimes.
I’ve been kicking around an idea for awhile about using the 1980s American Top 40s[1] I listen to most weekends as a jumping off point for writing about old songs. Every weekend, whether I listen to an entire countdown or just catch a few minutes here and there, I’m bombarded with memories from 30+ years ago when all those songs were new. Might as well put those memories to use and use them to create some Blog Content, right?
I’ve watched my share of Fixer Upper over the years. My wife loves it. My kids all love it. If you’re between, say, 30 and 50, white, and live in the suburbs, odds are someone in your house is a fan.
While I appreciate the show, it has worn on me over the years. Thus I enjoyed McSweeney’s poking a little fun at the show.
WE’RE ENDING FIXER UPPER SO WE CAN EXPLORE OUR NEW PASSION FOR 1970S EUROPEAN BRUTALISM
A couple very different books completed over the past week.
Blue Highways: A Journey Into America - William Least Heat Moon I came across this in an odd way. In Nick Offerman’s Paddle Your Own Canoe, the actor/comedian/writer mentioned this book as having had a large influence on his life. He offered a blurb that it was about traveling across the backroads of the US and that was enough for me to place it on my reading list.
Well shit. I totally forgot about the halftime show in my Super Bowl roundup.
You would be correct if you thought that had something to do with my reaction to it.
Justin Timberlake’s performance was visually appealing, but otherwise safe, confusing, disappointing, and forgettable.
I had heard the “controversy” coming about the rumored use of a hologram of Prince during JT’s performance. I also read the quotes from both Prince taken before his death and from friends and family that pointed out how he would not have approved the use of him image in that way if he were able to weigh in.
So, yeah, I watched the Super Bowl. I’m a goddamn American, right? Despite my lack of interest in the NFL these days, I wasn’t going to miss the biggest game of the year. Also, if I’m only going to casually watch pro football I kind of have to watch the Super Bowl, as it has become a cultural obligation. Like I said, I’m an American.
Now my full attentions were not on the game.
It’s been a decent start to the new music year in terms of singles. But there has yet to be a great album that has captured my attention. And, sadly, the list of February releases is looking pretty meager as well. I’ll hope the solid singles keep rolling out until we finally get some long plays that require my attention.
Oh and after a brief warm spell we’re back to winter.
I have passed another milestone of the aging process: last week I picked up my new pair of glasses, my first with progressive lenses. If there was any uphill left in life it is now certainly in the rearview mirror.
My eyes are still adjusting, which is kind of always the case with me. I have a nutty prescription - both bad nearsightedness and serious astigmatism - and have weak corneas.
Stereogum writer Tom Breihan has started a series where he is writing about every song to reach #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart.
Obviously if I owned an alley, this would be right up it.
Now he’s still very early in the series, so not all the songs are terribly relevant or interesting to most of us. But last week he covered “The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don’t Be Late)” from December 1958, and I thought one line in particular would make that entry a fun read for everyone.
Our first weekend with sports on both days for awhile.
Saturday M had her first volleyball game of the year. They lost in two games, and neither was very close. The other team had one good server who ripped off 6–7 straight points early in each game and that was pretty much it. They were also better at passing than our girls were.
M is playing on a C team.
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“Fireworks” - First Aid Kit. I’m been working on this band for awhile, trying to figure out if I like them and if their music fits what I usually enjoy. Some of their songs veer a little too hard into the country music sphere. Which seems a little odd for a sister duo from Sweden. But their vocals are so beautiful it’s hard to deny them. I’ve found myself listening to their latest album, Ruins, several times this week.
I was going to being this post with a line something like “An incredibly important week for KU began with a disappointing - and avoidable - loss.”
But then I realized pretty much every week is incredibly important in the Big 12 this season.
A week ago KU went through K-State at home (fortunate to win), West Virginia on the road (a huge, potentially season-altering, win), and Baylor at home (another very fortunate win).
Time for a link to a Joe Posnanski piece about life. This one hit me kind of hard because, although I’m a few years behind him in the dad business, I’m getting close to the stage he writes about. I’m already terrified of our girls learning to drive. I wonder how the hell my mom and step-dad turned me loose in a car after I got my license. Were they insane?
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“Another Time” - Mimicking Birds. For some reason I have a hard time typing the word “mimicking.” I taught myself to type in middle school and never learned home rows and all that. I can type quite quickly, but my hands are constantly crossing over each other, violating all kinds of typing rules. For some reason that causes me to struggle with certain words. On mimicking my right index finger should hit the second M in the word.
Two more notches on my 2018 reading belt.
Mrs Fletcher - Tom Perrotta Perrotta’s books all feel similar. They often center on sex, although none of them can be described as salacious, and the problems that sex causes in our lives. There is usually a strong element of nostalgia, where one or more major character wants desperately to turn back the clock to a time - days, weeks, months ago - in the past before they fucked up.
Another music legend dies requiring another one of these sad, memorial posts.
Dolores O’Riordan was unmistakably one of the Voices of the Nineties. The Cranberries may not have been as big and important as Nirvana and Pearl Jam, but hearing her sing a single note will instantly take those of us who were alive in the 90s back to that time as easily as hearing Kurt scream or Eddie wail. Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?
Boy did we have a Sunday. Nine-plus hours of kid sports!
Things started with L and I leaving the house just before noon for week three of basketball, once again playing about an hour from home.
Game one was a barn-burner. We have exactly two plays on offense, variations on the same theme where the point guard either comes off a screen at the free throw line for a (hopefully) good look at the bucket, or passes off to a trailing teammate for a shot.