On a sunny Friday in January 1985, I sketched this while sitting on the steps of the State House in Boston. There must have been something of a chill in the air, judging by the woman’s coat – it was, after all, January in New England. The bas-relief sculpture on the right, completed in 1897, was created by Augustus Saint-Gaudens, an Irish-born American sculptor. It is called the Robert Gould Shaw Memorial, in honor of the 54th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry – an all-black regiment – who were led into battle in the Civil War by Shaw, a white colonel. The sculpture also inspired the first movement (“The ‘St.-Gaudens’ in Boston Common (Col. Shaw and his Colored Regiment)”) of Charles Ives’ Three Places in New England. Too bad it didn’t inspire me so much that day. I seem to have directed a lot of my attention toward the wall and the garbage can.
Three good musical things that are making my world a better place:
- The Smithereens: The Smithereens Play Tommy (CD)
A friend and I took a little road trip to Nashville this past weekend that included a stop at one of the few independently-owned record stores worthy of mention in this region. This Smithereens album was the only item that I was counting on getting and, thankfully, the folks at Grimey’s had it. The band’s last two “tribute” albums were devoted to songs of the early Beatles, both sounding lifeless and dull (and therefore, pointless) to my ears. Play Tommy is an entirely different story. The recording is punchy and rocks harder than the original album by The Who, the guitar-playing is muscular and the drumming by Dennis Diken would have made Keith Moon proud. We listened to the disc at full volume on the drive home, then wanted to immediately hear it again.
[audio:Smithereens___Im_Free.mp3]
“I’m Free” from The Smithereens Play Tommy (2009)
- The Doobie Brothers: Toulouse Street (CD)
If you happen to be walking down one of the main aisles at Wal-Mart, you might bump into a giant bin below a sign trumpeting $5.00! in the least subtle manner imaginable. I was recently, and I did, and the first thing I saw when I recovered my balance was The Doobie Brothers’ Toulouse Street, sitting on top of the disheveled heap of product, begging for a home. It was like seeing an old friend, but I had to leave it stranded there as I already have a copy – I now, in fact, have three. I love this album. I first heard it as a kid, from my older sister’s record collection, and would sneak peeks at the titillating nude photograph on the inner gatefold. Eventually, I purchased my own copy on CD. Years later, I was given a CD copy of the album in a mini-gatefold edition (preserving the salacious photo), which was a format that was fashionable for all of about one month. Now, the wizards at Mobile Fidelity have given the album a new lease on life by issuing a remaster (though it sounds like a total re-mixing). Once past the first track (“Listen to the Music,” which although hackneyed from overplay, still has a shiny nostalgic gleam), everything sounds brand new. The guitar work, especially, is forward in the mix and makes a solid case for the Doobies as a top-level guitar band, not just a wellspring of classic rock radio hits. This is the second album we listened to on the return trip from Nashville, and the volume knob did not get turned down.
- The Church: El Momento Siguiente (CD)
Translated from Spanish as “The Next Moment,” this is the second album in which Australian band The Church have transformed songs from their vast and varied catalog with acoustic treatments (the first is El Momento Descuidado, or The Unguarded Moment, from 2005). The majority of the songs here are deep cuts, most of which I was unfamiliar with. “Reptile,” from their album Starfish, is one of the more familiar, and is given a slinky, vampy and, well, reptilian beat. There’s not a bad track on this disc. (Sadly, Grimey’s did not have this, but two out of three ain’t bad!)
[audio:Church___Reptile.mp3]
“Reptile” from El Momento Siguiente (2007) by The Church
Finally, early this past December, I had a new roof placed on my bungalow. The roofers came in early in the morning, removed five layers of shingles, cleaned off the roofing debris, laid down plywood decking, and re-shingled by the middle of the next day. Quite a job, and it looks so much better now. Not to mention that I don’t wig out every time there is a strong rain, trying to guess from where the next leak is going to spring.
There was a large attic vent perched right up on the crest of the roof. It dated back many decades, perhaps even back to the ’20s or ’30s (the house was built in 1925). There is only one other house with such a vent on its roof on my block. Now it is the sole house with that artifact, as I had the roofing company take it down (it was not functioning).
In the picture below, you can see it sitting up there in its rusty glory. I have always referred to it as “the spaceship,” because it looks less like something that belongs on top of the house, and more like something that touched down in the middle of the night.
The spaceship, up close and personal:
The roofers were crawling all over my house, like ants, speaking the language of my paternal ancestors. They very carefully extracted the spaceship from the house and set it upon a large piece of plywood on the backyard lawn. You can also tell from this picture what December looks like in central Alabama – it’s t-shirt weather two weeks after Thanksgiving (but it couldn’t have anything to do with global warming)!
The spaceship sat on the lawn for months after that. I would pick it up and move it to a different place every weekend, so that the grass wouldn’t die underneath it. My initial thought was to create some kind of planter with it, or alter it into some kind of retro yard art for the backyard. But I just couldn’t find the right placement or come up with the right approach that would leave it looking like something other than a piece of discarded hardware that should probably have been taken to the dump. I tried positioning it in the circular flower bed in the patio. No. Then I moved it to the long planting bed that borders the back of my yard, and almost immediately some chipmunks took up residence underneath it. That was no good – I’ve been trying to eliminate the chipmonkeys from my property for almost a year now, so no encouragement was needed. Then I had another idea.
The gas meter on the front of my house is one of the ugliest things I have ever seen. Why not use the spaceship as a yard ornament to distract from the unsightliness of that meter? Or, better yet, use the spaceship to block the meter from view. About a year ago, I had purchased some Rustoleum spray paint to refurbish some “musical frogs” that Mom had given me. They are now quite handsome, standing in the flowerbeds in their gold metallic finery, keeping the day lilies and coreopsis entertained. I decided to give the spaceship the same treatment. Once shiny and new, to a fashion, it was a cinch to decide what to plant inside of it. I chose pampas grass. I found a “miniature” variety of pampas grass at Hanna’s Garden Shop down Highway 280 on the outskirts of Birmingham (they have everything).
You can see the result of my aerosol painting – and planting – below, with views from the side (allowing a peek at the gas meter) and from the front (the street and sidewalk view).
The spaceship landed in my front yard almost two months ago now. So far, there have been no audible compaints from the neighbors. Some days now, late in the afternoon from the comfort of my porch, I watch the Crestwoodians as they practice their post-work ritual of strolling up and down the street and sidewalk, pushing baby buggies, walking dogs or getting a bit of exercise. With regularity, their eyes catch the sight of a golden orb resting in the corner of my front yard, and their heads rotate to the left or right as they cruise by. Are they trying to figure out what it is? Are they reminded of Plan 9 from Outer Space or The Day the Earth Stood Still? Are they wondering where my gas meter has disappeared to? Maybe they are thinking to remind themselves to send out an alert to the city beautification board as soon as they get home. Or to notify the department of works – the one that posts notices demanding the elimination of garbage and weeds from residential lots. There is no telling, and they are certainly not telling me. Most importantly, my immediate next-door neighbors – the ones who have to look at the spaceship every time they walk onto their front porch or into their front yard – claim to really like it. That’s all the affirmation I need.
On 5 May 2009, the following e-mail arrived in my personal inbox (not the one I use for Spitball Army):
cc to: Fred O. (and two other recipients, Joel and Steve)
Subject: Sub?
Hey Guys,
I need a sub for the (small intimate) Tuesday spin class on May 19th. I’m going to Colorado to see my family. Actually, the class has grown – today I had 8.
Let me know if you’re available.
Thanks,
MJ
I read it completely, rather than deleting it immediately, as it was obviously not spam. I have been receiving e-mails for some other Fred for years, and they rarely have been of much consequence. This day I was feeling frisky, so I decided to have a little fun.
To: MJ
Subject: Re: Sub?
Sure, I’ll do it.
End of message. Then, on 12 May, a week later, another related message from MJ appeared.
Hey Guys,
Fred was going to sub for me next Tuesday (I’ll be in Colorado) – but he’s going to be out of town (see message below). Can one of you two fill in? Please let me know (yes or no).
Thanks,
MJ
MJ was referring to this message (the aforementioned “message below”), which was attached:
From: Nicole
To: MJ
Subject: cycle sub next week 5/19
Hi MJ,
I just got word today from Fred H. saying that he is not in town next week, and cannot sub your 1:40 Cycle class on 05/19. Do you have alternate sub option? Please let me know…
Best,
Nicole
Joel, coming to the rescue – sort of – replied to all, saying:
If Steve can’t do it, I will.
Joel
An hour passed. Then, a lengthy e-mail from MJ came across to me.
Hi Fred,
A couple of things.
Last name confusion… On the message below it says O. – but according to Nicole, it’s H.. I think it came up as O. when I typed in [my personal e-mail address, which she typed correctly]. So in my email to Nicole I said Fred O. was going to sub for me – which, of course, confused her completely because she didn’t have a Fred O. on record. It is H., right? Where does O. come in?
Also, Nicole emailed me today saying you’ll be out of town and not available to sub for me next week (hope you’re going somewhere fun!). In the future, if there are issues regarding subbing for my class, I would prefer you email me directly (and cc Nicole to keep her in the loop as an FYI) rather than bypassing me and going directly to Nicole (unless it’s last minute and you can’t get ahold of me). Typically, we (the spin community) take individual responsibilitiy for finding subs for our classes and keeping management informed. We rarely get Nicole involved in the sub finding process, and only as a last resource. Plus, she’s a pretty busy woman and already has a lot on her plate.
Thanks anyway – maybe next time.
Have a good trip wherever you’re off to!
MJ
I was beginning to like MJ. She possessed a lot of spirit and a great positive attitude. It would be cruel to string this charade out any further, and cause such a nice person any aggravation. So, after a bit of thought, I did the next logical thing (according to my contrarian set of principles).
From: Fred O.
To: MJ
Subject: Re: Sub?
I responded directly to your e-mail, MJ, and never spoke or wrote to Nicole.
That’ll get her head spinning, I thought.
Three hours later, I received a response from MJ.
The only email I got from you was the one below where you said “sure I’ll do it.” The message I got from Nicole said you’d be out of town and couldn’t sub. Who told her that? Now I don’t know what’s going on – will you be able to sub? Or are you out of town? Maybe she has you confused with someone else, or…?
Puzzled in Woodside
I replied immediately:
Who is Fred H.?
At 11:28 P.M., the BlackBerry sitting next to my bed chimed (Bing-gong! Bing-gong!). The evidence of my evil machinations had come across in another missive from MJ.
This gets confusinger and confusinger! When I sent an email to Nicole last week stating Fred O. was subbing for me, she said who is this person, we don’t have a Fred O. on record. I told her it’s the Fred who has been (along with Steve and me) subbing for Joel the last two weeks, and has subbed for me several times this year. She said “that’s Fred H.”
I don’t know who Fred H. is if not you. Is your last name O.? Who’s on first?!?
Really puzzled in Woodside!!
Rather than getting angry, MJ was being honestly perplexed, and with a sense of humor. I felt I could have dragged this out a bit longer, but I could not, in good conscience, cause this woman any more grief. I stopped responding. I’d had my fun.
The next night, at 9:14:
To Fred O.
From: MJ
Subject: I get it now!
OK Fred O. – the jig’s up!!
I finally figured out what was happening. Two guys both named Fred with similar email addresses – what are the chances?! (and I used the wrong one!)
Although it was somewhat mind boggling – it sure kept me occupied for a while and was actually kinda fun – plus, it makes a great story.
A little detour from the ordinary – thanks for the trip –
No longer puzzled –
MJ
I wrote back, chanelling Yoda.
Quite the sleuth you are.
