Hi, it’s another entry in the LoveSong book.
The lover:
SamuraiFrog is one of my favorite bloggers. He writes all sorts of things (pop culture, political, personal, etc.), and his empathy and intelligence shine through in everything he does. Among other neat things he’s done, he’s the guy behind the very funny Godzilla Haiku.
So I decided that my song is “Rainy Days and Mondays” by The Carpenters.
When I was a kid, my mom had a Carpenters record, a hits collection, and even then I remember thinking that it was pretty bland. Which is weird, considering most of her music sounded like that, and most of it–Cat Stevens, Roger Whittaker–I’ve loved since then. It was just something about the clean vocals and the pretty music that sounded… plain.. Boring. As I grew up, I became aware that except for the tragedy of Karen Carpenter’s death, people generally seemed to think of their music as a joke. I dismissed it as more of “mom’s music” and just sort of moved on.
But then, as a teenager, I got really into Paul Williams.
I love and adore Paul Williams. I feel like growing up with The Muppet Movie I had no other choice. In those formative years–The Muppet Movie came out when I was 3–an appreciation for Paul Williams and his music was written into my DNA. Few songwriters make me feel like Paul Williams does. And when I started openly listening to him at work or at school, inevitably someone would hear “Rainy Days and Mondays” and ask “Are you listening to Carpenters demos or something?” I had actually forgotten the Carpenters performed that song, as well as a few others. The only Carpenters song I even remembered by the time I was 18 was “Close to You,” which just seemed like the epitome of square music. (Says the guy who was still joyously listening to Roger Whittaker’s “Folk Songs of Our Time” album, and still would be if the goddamn thing was on CD.) Listening to the Carpenters just seemed so… cheesy.
But I took that record back out one afternoon and queued it up to “Rainy Days and Mondays” and instead of something plain and square, I heard one of the prettiest songs ever recorded.
That sad, Toots Thielmans-esque harmonica and Karen Carpenter’s voice right in the opening cut straight through the BS and right into my system. If you haven’t heard it in a long time, just sit and listen for a few minutes to Karen Carpenter’s voice. Something I notice about her voice now: it’s incredible. Usually the production of a song enhances its emotional content, but in Karen’s case, it feels like her voice enhances the emotional content of the production. There’s someone who has isolated a lot of her vocal tracks on YouTube, and you can hear how about 75% of the emotions in Carpenters songs is really right there in Karen’s voice. It’s powerful and on occasion (as in this song) moving. Right here, I’m going to make a comparison that seems maybe out of left field, but Karen Carpenter reminds me of Frank Sinatra. They’re both two of the few singers who can make anything sound sincere. They find the core feeling of a song and bring it out of the song with just their voices. Everything going on around their voices almost doesn’t matter.
Listen to the slight break in her voice the first time she sings “I always wind up here with you.” You can almost hear a self-deprecating grin and some kind of sly, flirty quality. Nothing against Paul Williams (I like his voice, too), but she’s really the perfect singer for this song, because she’s able to bring out the emotions already there and not really linger on them or squeeze them for all they’re worth. It’s not overdone at all. And what Karen Carpenter is able to do with this song is to make it sound like “Rainy Days and Mondays” don’t really get her down at all. Of course they don’t: she gets to wind up here with you, and god damn it, it’s nice to know somebody loves her. It’s the rare song that sounds like it’s going to be depressing but actually makes you feel good. And for a guy with diagnosed Mood Disorder, that’s kind of a big deal.
And this song helped make me not at all concerned that I liked square music. Because square music is really just emotions being conveyed in a way that’s not “cool.” And I’m perfectly okay with that.
I haven’t been taking lots of pictures of heads this past year, but I’ve taken enough to populate a few more mosaics.
Here they are.
I usually take black and white pictures of heads, but when I am struck by something about a picture (Hair! Jacket! Vest!) I have no problem using color.
Note: While I was making these mosaics, I was listening to Ian McCulloch’s really nice solo record Candleland.
More couplets in the guise of rap lyrics given away for nothing on Twitter. Some suck. Some are okay.
Stealing the mail and the Sunday paper
Earning the ire of your fascist neighbor
Staring at the door to the room you sublet
Cleaning scrambled eggs off your diamond bracelet
passable, poseable
instantly disposable
Catalog your fears, catalog your dreams
Catalog what the mailman brings
Some have friendships, some drown in beers
Some have brilliant, heartless careers
Humdrum and parochial
Guileless and colloquial
Today is important, it’s something big
It deserves this very fancy wig
Anger, laughter, oversharing
Are no substitutes for caring
Sniffing glue, eating paste
Sometimes there’s no accounting for taste
You, with the insect eyes and the spider fingers texting
With the face that’s swollen from multiple bee stings
Awash in debt, drowning in pools
Check out our website promotional tools
Ready for what fortune brings
From the many doings of things
Yarn, wiring, hammers, and bones
Milk crates full of rotary phones
Who would want to unfollow me
For sharing little bits of poetry?
IP lawyers scrap and fight
Praying at the altar of copyright
Hands and elbows, knees and feets
Ingesting all the crunchy beats
Angry, scornful, looking askance
At the backup singers with the magic pants
The tourists flock to familiar perches
Photographing all the ruins and churches
Dead-eyed gamblers, low high rollers
The angry screams of fucked-up bowlers
Google Analytics, hot apple pie
Larks’ Tongues In Aspic and curly fries
Sprained tendons, Shattered bone
My favorite flavor of ice cream cone
Like a comfortable chair where nobody sat
A trick pulled from a bad writer’s hat
This is one of my neighbor’s trees, and it was a hard one. Usually I plow ahead making these, but I actually restarted this several times.
I used to work with this guy Stephen, who was a tech guy who liked to tinker around. Before you could go into a store and buy a digital picture frame that could play a slideshow of your JPEGs and JUH-IFs (that’s how we are supposed to spell and pronounce “GIF” now, folks!), Stephen took apart a laptop and made it into one. For what it’s worth, I think he got the idea from the tinkerer’s bible, MAKE Magazine.
I remember Stephen talking about wanting to use a personal Wiki to maintain a shopping list. As you may or may not know, Wikipedia happens to be the biggest wiki on the web (it’s what I linked to for the article about wikis), but you can install its underlying software yourself and run your own wiki.
Stephen figured it would be nice to have an editable website that he and his wife could both maintain various things on, among them a shopping list. Stephen could be out shopping, and his wife could add an item at the last minute which he would see while he was at the store, purchase it, etc.
I don’t know if Stephen ever got his Wiki working in a satisfactory manner, but I was happy when ShesAllWrite told me about a free smartphone app called AnyList.
It’s a simple, free app, but it does exactly what Stephen wanted. You can maintain a list and share that list with others. When someone updates the list, the other people accessing it will see the list dynamically updated.
You can make any kind of list you want, but they have some extra support for grocery lists. They appear to have a database that contains a lot of common food and household items. This is helpful because, as you type something, it auto-suggests grocery items that match your input text.
So this post, in a nutshell, is me saying, hey, this is a pretty cool free smartphone app which I think you might like.
I kid you not, I stopped a mom with two young kids at a supermarket and told her about the app. She was carrying a PIECE OF PAPER and PEN to do her shopping! What the hell?!!! Yes, I probably creeped her out. I meant well.
Note: While writing this post, I was listening to Electric Six’s album Fire.
Confession. For the past several months I had my dog Ollie do his business in the back yard. Every few days I would walk through the grass with a claw-mechanism pooper scooper and a bucket double-lined with plastic bags to collect and dispose of all his piles of earthly delight.
However, partially due to a dumbass bird situation, and partially because we are trying to get some grass to grow on a large hunk of the yard, I’ve been taking Ollie for walks. I used to take him for nighttime walks at ShesAllWrite’s place in Chicago. Her old neighborhood, though a tad on the dicey side, was well-lit by sodium vapor streetlights. It’s a lot darker in my neighborhood.
Tonight, ShesAllWrite and I took Ollie for a walk, and he did his business. I honestly wasn’t looking SUPER closely at where he dropped his doody. Being a good neighbor, I had about seventeen plastic grocery bags stuffed in the lower-left pocket of my camo cargo shorts. But I didn’t know exactly where the stuff I had to pick up was.
I tried shining the display of my phone in the general direction of where the package had been dropped, but couldn’t find it. The grass was glistening from a recent rain, which made finding a shiny piece of poo that much more difficult. I gingerly walked in the grass. “Be careful,” ShesAllWrite warned.
The scent of the doody gradually wafted up and into my nostrils. Oh, yes. I was close.
I got the idea to use my smartphone camera’s flash to find what I was searching for. After several pictures, EUREKA! Land, ho! Mr. Watson! Come here! I need you!
I bagged the crap and threw it in the trash. I got home, plugged in my phone, and began to pull down my photos of the day. The last pictures were the ones I had taken to locate Ollie’s leavings. So, of course I made an animated GIF of the pictures. You’re welcome!
It was only weeks ago — WEEKS AGO — when I was relatively optimistic about the robins nesting on the flood lights in back of my house.
Jesus.
So, we stopped using the back door to our side porch, as to not disturb the birdies. Soon, we saw a piece of robin eggshell on the ground. We could see some baby birds popping their heads out of the nest. How many? 2. No, 3! Yeah, 3. Wait…. 4. There were 4 baby birds.
Mama and Papa Robin were bringing home the worms to the babies. We were in the backyard a lot, doing some major gardening. My 10 year old son found a worm when he was digging and dropped it on a part of the yard we weren’t working in, and one of the robins got it, gave it the what-for (i.e. killed it) and brought it home to the babies.
A few days later, the shitting began. It was all over the steps. ShesAllWrite sprayed the crap off with a hose, but immediately after that, like magic, more bird crap.
But that wasn’t the end of the dumbassedness of the birds.
ShesAllWrite and I were sitting in the back and I looked over. “Hey, is that one of the baby birds?” A small, young robin was standing on the steps. It hopped down into some plants, went through the neighbor’s fence into a bush.
Jesus. Is this supposed to happen? The bird tried to fly a bit, but it was clear it wasn’t ready. Had it fallen out of the nest?
It didn’t take long for all the birds to be out of the nest. ShesAllWrite saw one of the birds actually hop out of the dumb nest. Another time, she saw Mama Robin hopping around with one of the Baby Robins around the yard. Well, that’s good. Mama Robin knows where at least one of her kids is.
At one point we let our dog Ollie out in the backyard to do his business, not realizing one of the baby birds was there. He went up to the bird and licked it. He’s a sweetheart. I have no doubt he would be a great Mama Dog to the robins.
Still, we thought it was best that Ollie didn’t lick any more birds, so now the backyard is an Ollie-free zone, at least until the birds clear out.
I saw a baby robin fly half-assed in the alley behind our house, smacking gently into the wall of a garage wall. Was it one of ours? Or another dumbass bird?
I was taking out the trash and saw a baby bird standing in our garden a foot from me. It just stood there, blinking. Jesus.
I hope these robins survive. Jesus. I hope Mama Robin doesn’t lay eggs again in her dumbass nest. Jesus.
Back in 2007 I had an idea to capture the essence of a tree’s branches into a series of straight black lines. Seeing all the leaves back on the trees in the recent weeks made me want to revisit this feature.
Take a gander at all the Trees and Signs posts
Note: The lines picture was created and the post was composed while listening to Starf*cker‘s great album Florida.