Shorthand for Nothing

One Sunday morning at the Hurricane Cafe in Seattle, I left a poem on the napkin for the waitress. It’s one of the notions I have because I’m a writer and a dabbler in poetry–that I like the idea of leaving something on a napkin. Obviously I tip, also, but I entertain the hopes that getting a poem on a napkin would brighten someone’s day.

Unfortunately, I’m not at all good at coming up with poetry on the spot. I don’t want to leave something too dark. But dark is what I’m best at. It’s hard to immediately produce something cheerful, or even wistful, nostalgic, or thoughtful that I feel would make a good gift.

Ultimately I end up leaving a few lines from a song scribbled on a napkin. I need to work on the poetry thing.

The poem I left, by the way, that Sunday I mentioned, went something like this:

‘She smells like quiet drives in the rain. / The weather is cold and unpleasant / but the car is warm / and the windshield wipers freshly changed / (And from the car it’s easy to imagine: / the rain is clean and renewing) // And despite the clouds blocking the sun / it’s bright out / and the colors are clearer / than the sunniest of days. / Such a day could not be called dreary.’

I obviously don’t have the original draft, but I think I prefer it that way.

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I’m never sure what to make of Charlie’s Kitchen. It has a very cheap cheeseburger which is tasty, but other, much tastier things for the prices I’ve come to expect from most restaurants. It’s got a full bar and is a seat-yourself establishment, but it doesn’t seem terribly bar-like apart from that. Charlie’s is a place of indecision.

Too often we duck our heads in and it’s too busy and decide to go to the IHOP just a few stores down. I feel like we overlook it too often. Especially upstairs it’s almost exactly the sort of atmosphere I appreciate in a restaurant, though the coffee is not as plentiful as I’d like. But then, it’s got a full bar. It’s a place for ordering beer. Maybe I’m too used to late nights with unlimited and rapid refills on coffee. It seems perfect, but there’s something slightly askew.

I feel a little odd writing this. I really enjoy Charlie’s, and wish I went more often. But it has an atmosphere which is deceptively close to the cafes I’ve always frequented–just something is a little off. At Charlie’s I always feel like I can’t quite make up my mind about where I am, what I want.

The food is damn tasty, though, and the drinks are reasonably priced. I think I should abandon the notion that it’s a place for coffee.

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It feels good to resume a project you’ve had on hold for a very long time–distracted with vacations and other things coming up, and projects have inertia. A big, awesome project is hard to stop, but then it’s hard to pick up again. More stories have died this way.

But Fairy Gold, the story I’ve been working on for some months now, picked back up without a hitch. There’s a few problems I may need to work on, but I’ve started writing again. Email me if you like incomplete stories, especially if I’ve already sent you bits and then stopped because I am lazy and also a monster.

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There reaches a point in every all nighter when you’ve been up too long but there’s still hours before the morning comes. It gives you pause. Is it worth it? There’s a moment you find yourself asking if it’s worth waiting until morning, until the project is done.

Then you get linked by someone with 70,000 followers on Twitter. And then you realize there’s really not much of a choice.

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On Saturday I attended a screening of Secrecy. I was late arriving due to a long lunch and intriguing conversation, but I caught most of the film and all of the conversation after. As the various interviewees discussed their thoughts on government secrecy, providing views both for and against, I found myself wondering about this vast world–what would I do in these situations, how could I make an impact in this world, and so on, and so on. It felt somehow pressing. It’s a world of contrasts, of treading careful lines, the sort of nuanced intricate discussion that holds my attention.

It was snowing when I left, and I exchanged a brief “see you this weekend, maybe” style of conversation with Tim Hwang for a few moments before heading off to the T. When I reached the station there was a fairly large group of kids being accompanied by a much smaller group of adults–I’m assuming it was a school trip of some sorts. They were new to the area, or at least to Cambridge. They were excited to be here and generally enjoying themselves, as if there wasn’t this vast world of government secrets out there, archives full of forbidden information waiting for someone to discover them.

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According to this thread on the Harvey Danger forums, Bobby from the Bound Stems has categorized it as a “trial separation” rather than a breakup–which is hopeful news, though it’s still sad to have missed seeing them live. I’ll be keeping an eye out for further developments. While bands going on hiatus occasionally fade away, they also occasionally come out with a wonderful new album after five years or so, a different direction from their previous material, but worth the wait.

In the meanwhile, Evan Sult is now working on a new project, Sleepy Kitty, and if you haven’t checked it out you should go do so right now. It’s fun.

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It didn’t take me long after moving to Boston to find a diner that was open for late nights, even if the public transit here closes too early to have enjoyed the frenzied late nights I have come to know and love at other such establishments. The South Street Diner fit the bill.

Here in New England, the word “diner” has a different meaning. In the northwest it tends to mean the same thing as cafe or restaurant, with connotations of truck stop. In New England they come with history. They’re made to resemble trains. But the culture, the feeling, what has always drawn me in, remain the same.

So it felt familiar to me even while it felt like rediscovering the greasy spoon scene. The food was beautifully greasy–French fries covered in gravy, juicy burgers, food which does not apologize for its effect on your health. The lighting, after dark, has that purple glow that comes of red and blue neon signs providing much of the illumination, with enough overhead lighting to prevent it from being a headache.

I’m not a regular yet, but a few of the servers have a way of making me look forward to becoming one, and that’s the sort of thing I look forward to when all I want is all the coffee in the world.

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It was probably inevitable. I spent most of Valentine’s Day at an arcade, and ended up just playing Asteroids until I set the high score for the day. (A paltry 15,000.) Sure, I spent a fair amount of time dabbling, playing a game or two of pinball, a few other games, appreciating the wide variety of obscure or ancient games I’d never encounter again, watching my friends playing other games they’d grown to love when they were young. Watching the people, exploring at whim.

When I was young I never spent much time at the arcade, but I did enjoy Asteroids. It was a simple concept with a brilliant execution that I was, of course, utterly abysmal at when I was younger. It’s one of few arcade games that actually has nostalgia value for me. When we set it up at my place in Seattle, I spent far too many nights playing (setting, by the way, the house high score multiple times). Then it was gone and I moved along–but here at the arcade I saw the machine, part of a long line of other, less interesting machines, quiet, unobtrusive.

It didn’t take me long–I think the scores must reset daily–before I got it. I could have had fun without it–but even when I’m dabbling, wandering, exploring, I want something to conquer. Having done so, I’m more than content to sail wherever the wind takes me.

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I have CNN.com in my Google Reader, though as time wears on I find myself wondering why I would do such a thing. It has articles with consistently terrible ledes and some really terrible commentary, which for some reason people are getting paid to write.

Their latest assault on the dignity of the English language is written by Roland Martin, who is apparently a nationally syndicated columnist. It is an article complaining about Valentine’s Day, which is super original! It’s pretty much the same sort of anti-Valentine’s rant you hear from anyone who has ever been burned by some of its more absurd adherents, or felt that roses are overpriced, or complained that society felt they needed a special day to demonstrate their love for their significant other. I’m not a devoted adherent but I don’t personally feel the day needs abolishing or anything. But the article bothered me, so here is my little defense of the holiday.

The article starts off with the false assertion that it was “created by rabid retailers who needed a major shopping day between Christmas and Easter in order to give people a reason to spend money.” Which is, you know, completely false!

Valentine’s Day is a Saint’s Day, for one. It became associated with romantic love in the High Middle Ages, before Christmas and Easter were shopping days. So, nice fact-checking there, Roland Martin! By which I mean ‘oh you appear to be completely wrong.‘

Then he does the traditional “I love my wife but why do I have to buy her expensive roses today?” thing. Answer? You don’t, actually! Society doesn’t really expect much of you. But it’s a day traditionally associated with romantic love, and do you really do nice things for her every day of the year? If money is tight or you want to avoid crowds, it’s still a nice time to watch a nice quiet movie with the missus and maybe have some candlelit dinner at home. Is there something wrong with having a day set aside out of the year for this? Anyone who’s likely to do it spontaneoussly is going to do it whether or not there’s a holiday on.

What really gets me is that this guy is getting paid, probably substantial sums of money, to complain about Valentine’s Day, without fact checking, inaccurately, and unoriginally–everyone who’s ever complained about it has said the same thing, and they have said it better, and without the self-righteous “I’m getting paid to do this!” sort of attitude. And it wasn’t polluting my feed reader.

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Having apparently signed up for The Decemberists‘ mailing list on two different email accounts, I was pleased to read recently that they are launching a new tour soon. There’s also a new album cover at their website! And a fun track–”The Rake’s Song”–from their next album–The Hazards of Love. I’m even more pleased to read that their setlist will consist of the entirety of their new album.

This past March I had the pleasure of attending Harvey Danger’s 10th Anniversary Public Spectacle, a two evening event at which the band played all three of their albums, and most of their B-sides and rarities. It was a treat, to say the least. (I also believe the Half Brothers played their entire new album at their CD release when I was doing merch.)

Sometimes I feel like it’s easy for people to say that it’s easy to play through an album, it doesn’t require any clever setlist design. Possibly so! But it’s a rarity, something bands seldom do, and this is part of where the charm comes from. In the case of a new release, your first chance to listen to the new material is in a live format–by the time you buy the album, you already have songs to be excited about, you know what to expect, you remember all the excitement and energy from the show. In the case of older releases, it’s a chance to hear the old material as it appears on the album, but live. Not so much different as transformed.

I ramble. I’m looking forward to the new album and hope I can scrape together money for the new tour.

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