a small piece of fiction

The gray was nailed tight to the sky above Old Sodom. Winter was fast coming and the late afternoon air was sharp, getting sharper. Musing under his breath that the Quality Inn was not quality, and therefore either pretentious or ironic, Dan wondered if he should write that bit down, save it for later, in some short story or something that he'd never actually get around to writing. He hadn't written anything in years and it was going to be years till he did. It just sounded good, on paper.

Letting the bath fill, Dan beat the love out of his lap in the next room. Returning to the bathroom he drained the tub and sat down to let it fill up again. That was the best part about taking a bath, listening to the water gurgle out the faucet. Soaking was disgusting, just laying there in your own dead skin cells and soaped suds. But listening to the water, that was about as good as it got, at least in the Quality Inn. The ash tray tub side hadn't been cleaned since the tub's last occupant had laid there in their own filth but Dan wasn't about to complain. He was lucky to have the room for the night.

He had two things to accomplish that night. First, he was going to go see Ree down at Sportsman's, ask her where the fuck she'd be for the past two months. Then he was going to work on getting his handicap down up at the Bowl-a-Lane. Figured with a whiskey or two in him he'd have a good game there as well.

Funny how things work out like this he thought.

Ritter, Springsteen

In the middle of October I joined my friends Ben, Kelly, and Aaron for a trip up north to see Josh Ritter play at the Fox, a tiny old concert hall, with acoustics that are second to none, packed to the gills with sweaty music fans. The show was unlike any musical experience that I'd ever been a part of. With a grin a mile wide carved into his face, and wiry red hair flying everywhere, Josh was in control of the room, along with my right foot which tapped out time incessantly.

I first heard of Josh in the fall of 2004, through my friend Bill Heath, a filmmaker from British Columbia, who had scored a beautiful ski film called Sinners with Josh's music. It was love at first listen. And then I realized that whilst a senior in college I had reviewed Josh's debut album, The Golden Age of Radio, for the Colgate Maroon News, showering it with equally golden praise. Josh's cousin Zach was living in my dorm and had encouraged me to write about his relative and so I sought out the album and threw it in my CD player.

There is a song on Josh's newest album, The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter, called The Temptation of Adam. You should listen to this song. It'll change your mind. I'm posting the lyrics below.

The Temptation of Adam

If this was the Cold War we could keep each other warm I said on the first occasion that I met Marie We were crawling through the hatch that was the missile silo door And I don¹t think that she really thought that much of me

I never had to learn to love her like I learned to love the Bomb She just came along and started to ignore me But as we waited for the Big One I started singing her my songs And I think she started feeling something for me

We passed the time with crosswords that she thought to bring inside What five letters spell "apocalypse" she asked me I won her over saying "W.W.I.I.I." She smiled and we both knew that she'd misjudged me

Oh Marie it was so easy to fall in love with you It felt almost like a home of sorts or something And you would keep the warhead missile silo good as new And I'd watch you with my thumb above the button

Then one night you found me in my army issue cot And you told me of your flash of inspiration You said fusion was the broken heart that's lonely's only thought And all night long you drove me wild with your equations

Oh Marie do you remember all the time we used to take We'd make our love and then ransack the rations I think about you leaving now and the avalanche cascades And my eyes get washed away in chain reactions

Oh Marie if you would stay then we could stick pins in the map Of all the places where you thought that love would be found But I would only need one pin to show where my heart's at In a top secret location three hundred feet under the ground

We could hold each other close and stay up every night Looking up into the dark like it's the night sky And pretend this giant missile is an old oak tree instead And carve our name in hearts into the warhead

Oh Marie there's something tells me things just won't work out above That our love would live a half-life on the surface So at night while you are sleeping I hold you closer just because As our time grows short I get a little nervous

I think about the Big One, W.W.I.I.I. Would we ever really care the world had ended You could hold me here forever like you're holding me tonight I look at that great big red button and I'm tempted.

Josh also played an acoustic version of Springsteen's The River. Separated in time by twenty five years from The Temptation of Adam, The River might be one of the blue collar love songs ever. And I'll stand behind those words.

Again the lyrics.

The River

I come from down in the valley
where mister when you're young
They bring you up to do like your daddy done
Me and Mary we met in high school
when she was just seventeen
We'd ride out of that valley down to where the fields were green

We'd go down to the river
And into the river we'd dive
Oh down to the river we'd ride

Then I got Mary pregnant
and man that was all she wrote
And for my nineteenth birthday I got a union card and a wedding coat
We went down to the courthouse
and the judge put it all to rest
No wedding day smiles no walk down the aisle
No flowers no wedding dress

That night we went down to the river
And into the river we'd dive
Oh down to the river we did ride

I got a job working construction for the Johnstown Company
But lately there ain't been much work on account of the economy
Now all them things that seemed so important
Well mister they vanished right into the air
Now I just act like I don't remember
Mary acts like she don't care

But I remember us riding in my brother's car
Her body tan and wet down at the reservoir
At night on them banks I'd lie awake
And pull her close just to feel each breath she'd take
Now those memories come back to haunt me
they haunt me like a curse
Is a dream a lie if it don't come true
Or is it something worse
that sends me down to the river
though I know the river is dry
That sends me down to the river tonight
Down to the river
my baby and I
Oh down to the river we ride

You should put these two songs on your iPod or on a cassette tape, or on a blank CD, put them in your car and go drive some back country road.

home for 4 days

After 18 hours in airplanes and airports on Wednesday I made it back to Denver close to midnight, which technically my body thought was closer to 8 AM European time. I'm still exhausted. Thursday morning Gregg called me and asked if I wanted to go back to England later that day. I replied that all my laundry was still dirty but yes I'd go. So, I'm going back Friday for five days with another Sony artist. Flying to NY tomorrow for the Thanksgiving holiday and then leaving from NY for Manchester. After these flights I'll be Gold Medallion on Delta. This means that I may make first class for free on every flight I purchase on Delta next year. I'm savvy. The only odd thing about this trip is that not only will I be visiting Norwich for the second time in my life, when I especially imagined that city to be the last city I'd visit twice, but I'll be spending my birthday there. As I've never been one to attach too much value to my birthday this technically shouldn't phase me. In fact I do find it more humorous than anything. Just add this to the list of stories that someday I can tell my children.

In preparation for my 5 AM wakeup tomorrow I bought myself a spa treatment today. Self indulgent but totally great and relaxing. Maybe I'll just consider it my birthday present to myself. Oh and the new video iPod too. Probably the most money I've spent on myself in a while. Sometimes I think that I spend all my money on myself but them remember that while that could be true, I'm really just purchasing film and technical equipment which allows me to better do my job. So goes the old adage, you have to spend money to make money.

I'm managing to squeak in a little football tonight after missing the past four weeks. I won't last much longer. Still need to pack.

a photograph

My friend Dawn sent me this two days ago.