Collapsing Reality or Just Being Happy its Still There?

To My Youngers,

There are things that happen in your life that make you think about, well, about life. Not in a big philosophical way necessarily, but more in a "Hum, I could very easily just... not be alive. At any moment" kind of a way.

Sunday evening the stage at Bluesfest collapsed.  Just fell down. Like a fort made of cushions and blankets, except with the sound track from a monster movie. It took less than ten seconds. *Poof* it was just a pile of metal and fabric and squashed lights and guitars. I've seen videos of stuff like that before, but I was standing on that stage this morning... In the photos, in the videos, there are cases I pushed around, there are people I worked with, my friends. Everything is familiar but warped, surreal. everyone is ok, and that makes all the difference, but there is still something, just... strange about it all (beyond the obvious strangeness of a giant stage collapsing seconds after the band runs off stage.) At least six or seven people I know could easily have died. Pretty much all at once. Its... weird.

I dunno, maybe I should be all reevaluating my life and stuff, but that's not really whats happening. I mean I had a 'Huh, I might actually die right now' experience camping a few years ago and it completely changed how I saw everything (even got rid of my insomnia!), but that was first hand. And in the middle of a bunch of stuff about my life that I really didn't like... But right now? I'm just having more of a 'I'm really really happy no one got hurt!" kind of a reaction. I guess I'm just pretty happy with my life right now.I guess thats a good thing.

Also good no one died.

Two. Two good things.

-E

The Live-Music Experience

To My Youngers,

I feel like those who say that live music is not worthwhile have just never been to the right kind of concert… Because there are bad ones- concerts I mean- there are those at which the musicians just don’t seem to want to be there, those where the audience is too cool to sing along, and those which, worst of all, have so little substance that even the most adamant fan of live music feels had….

But then there are the right concerts. The ones where everyone is bopping with all of their heart(s). Where you become temporary-best-friends with the dude beside you because you both got super excited about the same song. Where the guy with the guitar stomps around stage shaking his head to the music, not because he thinks it looks cool (which is good, because it looks like pretty much the antithesis of cool), but because he is having such a good time that he just can’t help it. Someone who has never been to one of these concerts, someone who has never had this kind of experience, how can we expect them to understand? And how can we not do everything in our power to help them have said wonderful, magical, ‘right concert’ experience?

Actually, I should pause here and mention that the difficulty with this is that these ‘right’ concerts are not the same concerts for everyone. Therein lies the rub. For one person their ‘right’ concert might be Goldfinger at a giant outdoor festival complete with a mosh pit full of people with safety-pins through their faces.  For someone else it might be Sarah Slean in a little tiny pub where people sit on the floor because there aren’t enough chairs. Heck, one person could count both of those experiences as the right kind of concert for them (I should know, those were two of my favourite concerts ever…)! Its difficult to pinpoint what makes a concert ‘right’ but over the years I have come to believe that they all have the flowing things in common:

1) Enthusiasm! From the audience and from the performers. Of course enthusiasm on both parts is the best case scenario, but a not-so-great band can get energy from an awesome audience and end up having a killer show, as can a so-so audience take their cue from an amazingly into-it band and turn into the most participatory group of people ever… Some bands may be known for being energetic and enthusiastic on stage- but audiences can also have a rep! Which bring us to-

2) Venue! Certain places have reputations for having great audiences, and certain others have the knack for attracting kill-joys. Anywhere where the audience regularly seems to be more interested in what they look like than the music onstage is to be avoided at all costs.  My absolute, bar none, favourite venue is The Kee, in Bala. Its in the middle of cottage country so everyone is relaxed and chill. Concert-goers arrive dressed in sweatpants and flip flops, their skin rosy with sunburn and hair in the laziest wind-styled do. Plus it’s a boathouse. The whole place is over the water, so when everyone gets a rockin’ the walls and floor rock right along with you. Too awesome.

3) Familiarity! This one is not so hard and fast, but knowing most or at least some of the songs is almost always important to your concert-going experience. Study-up! Listen to the CD a few times in the weeks approaching the performance. Have your friend put some of the band’s stuff on your ipod. Being familiar with the music always makes the experience more enjoyable… Having said that, one of the most captivating concerts I ever went to was the first time I saw Arcade Fire. I had never heard of them (nor had anyone else at the time. It was early days- pre-Funeral- they were still selling their EP in plastic envelopes with a hand-printed placemat as the liner notes…), and I didn’t know any of their songs. But by the end of the second number I was dancing and singing along (albeit just making vague tuneful noises rather than actual words), absolutely captivated by their performance. A band can definitely sweep you off your feet without you knowing any of their music- Its just more likely to happen if you go into it with a few lyrics in your back pocket!

4) Good Company! Pick your concert-going partners wisely my friends… Don’t choose someone who only listens to Eminem if you’re going to see Elliot Brood. Contrary-wise a Cuff The Duke fan might not be the right person with whom to attend a Less Than Jake soirée… Try to find someone who is as enthusiastic about the band you’re about to see as you are. This goes both ways- going to a concert with a super-fan when you only kind of like the band is not any more fun than going to see your favourite group with someone who only likes their latest single… If its an obscure band or you just don’t know anyone who knows who they are, think about who they remind you of- who do you know who likes similar sounding bands? Maybe they’ll end up with a new favourite artist! Finally, as a last resort, ask someone who finds your love of the applicable band to be entertaining (note: finds it entertaining, not annoying, stupid or embarrassing!)- who will enjoy poking fun at you all night (as you are busy singing your heart out) and who will come away having had a good time without making you feel like too much of an idiot.

5) The Right Band! This is one of the most important yet most variable factors. What you need is a band (or performer!) who makes music that makes you feel something extremely muchly. Makes you feel super happy, or super creative, or super energetic, or super pumped… even super melancholia (Oh Decemberists, how your sea shanties make my heart weep…).  A reputation for being awesome live never hurts, and is possible regardless of genre (I have never known Arcade Fire, Sam Roberts, Elliot Brood, AC/DC, Paul McCartney, The Decemberists, or Great Big Sea, to disappoint!).  The right band makes for the right concert almost every time…

As a final thought, be open to any of these factors occurring out of the blue and you will find yourself having way more ‘right’ concert experiences. If you suddenly realize that you love a country-esque band, don’t shy away from going to see them just because you ‘don’t like country!’ Tastes change over time. Your perfect high school concert might totally beat-up your perfect university concert if they met in a bar, but it doesn’t mean you can’t love them both equally!

Spread the love, man. Spread the love.

-E

Family Friendly

To my elders,

I love kids. I do. I plan on having some, someday. But I f*cking hate things that are “family friendly.” Places that are designed for children, by all means, should be geared towards children. Public parks. Children’s libraries. Chuck E Cheese. And that is great for toddlers. Toddlers should be protected. They are not capable of understanding explanations and often not even basic safety rules. But this idea that we should clean up the world of adults, that we should protect kids from what makes up the other 80% of the world, not even that, that we should pretend it doesn’t exist, is stupid and annoying. Stupid because when these kids discover it, possibly earlier than we did thanks to the internet, they will need to deal with it. Annoying because I hate censoring myself just because I am craving McDonald’s fries.

I knew all your basic swear words by the time I finished first grade. I think it took me 4 years before I ever repeated one. I didn’t understand the sex jokes on early seasons of Friends but I watched it every week anyway. And maybe these things are why I had the mouth of a sailor when I was 15. And maybe not. Because I still had a 4.0.

I warn my friends that there are small children near by at the mall when I can feel some swearing or inappropriate story coming on. The friends who tell those types of stories, however, often could care less. So why do I actually hate places that are “Family Friendly?” Because they missrepresent the world. Its like watching Leave It to Beaver and thinking that it represented family life in the 1950s accurately. It is like then trying to reconsile Leave It to Beaver with Mad Men and The Feminine Mystic and The Man In The Grey Flannel Suit and remembering that our grandfathers killed people in WWII. Or may have killed people or would have killed people if they’d made it to Europe before the War ended. Tom Rath killed 19 people. Pete Campbell got a girl pregnant the night before his wedding. The version of the world that “family friendly” portrays, the world that 1950s Americana portrayed, does not exist. “Family friendly” is like Pleasantville. It is two-dimensional. It is without real personality or complexity or interests. Or maybe Pleasantville is just where I got the idea. But I’m sick of pretense. Truth is far more interesting. Truth in its grittiness, its uneasiness, its awkwardness, its heartbreak and honesty, its beauty and joy and silliness. Its louder and dirtier and more dangerous, as Toby Maguire put it. And I like it so much more than the “family friendly.” And one day, those kids will too.

-K

Silly Doctor, Joy is for Kids

To My Youngers,

I've been thinking a lot lately about silliness and joy.

Don't get me wrong,  there are a great many things in this world to be serious about, but there is also a great deal of room for simple pleasures- laughter and smiling and general mirth (whistling in the dark...). Its in the little things: choosing neon leg warmers over beige ones; getting the giggles over a misquote (What you talkin' about Wallace?); naming your houseplants.... Most importantly, though, its in not being afraid to love the things that make you happy. 

I love Doctor Who.

I love the low-tech special effects, I love the optimism, I love the innovation, I love the silliness.

I love how excited the Doctor gets about life. About the little things in life. About the little things. Excited about things!

I love how loving Doctor Who can bring people together. I am not exaggerating here, I have made three (count 'em three) new friends in the last month almost completely based on a shared love of Doctor Who. Now I'm sure that you can find a bajillion sites on the internet where Doctor Who fans meet and discuss various things, but I'm just talking about in real, everyday, plain and simple life.  Not in any sort of Doctor Who situation (what would that even be?) just, y'know, doin' stuff, around... in normal life. And they're all awesome people, awesome in lots of non-specifically-Doctor-Who ways. Which got me thinking- if I don't like these people solely for their love of the show, why do I like people who like Doctor Who. If its like Nick Hornby suggests- that its not what we like, or what we're like, but how we like what we like, then maybe....

Maybe because they are proud of who they are, or because they understand the value of good storytelling... because they can fill in blanks with their ever-fertile imaginations, or because they appreciate the intricacies of time travel. Because they understand that, as Craig Kilbourne says, ‘Its all about the triumph of intellect and romance over brute force and cynicism .’ Maybe because they are capable of regularly suspending disbelief or because they enjoy witty dialogue, or maybe... maybe, most of all because they enjoy enjoying these things!

I guess I just love them for the same reasons I love the Doctor- because they understand that life is magical and silly and and amazing, and that you can still care about things without having to be serious all the time. 

Of course there are many other things I love, things I'm sure I will write about at some point in the future, but today, right now, its all about silly, its all about lovin' with all of your heart, its all about the Doctor.

-E