I like lists too!

The approaching end of the year triggers an avalanche of year-end, best-of lists, and I don’t think that’s a bad thing. We organize our lives into arbitrary chunks of measured time, and when one chunk finishes and the next one starts up, a little bookkeeping gives you a better idea of the kind of year you went through. Did you see a lot of movies? Did your musical tastes focus exclusively on weepy teenpop? If so, what’s wrong with you?

For my own amusement, I’m going to do my own music list for this year, with a little explanation of each one. I do not in any way guarantee that the albums/songs listed were released during the 2011 calendar year, only that all of this music accompanied me on my stumble through this year. Also, the list is in no particular order, so look elsewhere to determine ultimate musical dominance.

1. “High Violet” by the National. I’ve written about this album before, but it continues to have a complex emotional narrative for me. And the strange imagery and word usage pushes my creative brain into interesting directions.

2. “Year of the Black Rainbow” by Coheed and Cambria. Lord help me. I shouldn’t listen to any measurable amount of this band’s material, because of the terrible lyrics. I’m a word guy. I am the enemy of awful plots and awkward rhyming. But somehow, the music gets its hooks into me and I forgive the absurd sci-fi back story (which included a talking 10 speed bicycle at some point, and people infected with the MONSTARR virus. I’m serious). And, to the lyricists credit, there are a few rare instances where his words creep out of nonsenseland and make it into some mildly compelling shape.

3.”Hurricane J” by The Hold Steady. I like the entire “Heaven is Whenever” album, but I’ll focus on this track as the best-in-show. It’s about a guy realizing his girl can be much more than her current life will allow her to be, and he’s a part of that problem. To give her the chance to grow and thrive, he has to end the relationship. Here’s the lyric that gets me sniffly:

“Jessie, let’s go for a ride
I know a place that we could stop and kiss for a while
I know a place that makes you smile
I know you’re gonna say what I know you’re gonna say
I know you’ll look at the ground, I know you’ll probably cry
You’re a beautiful girl and you’re a pretty good waitress
but Jessie, I don’t think I’m the guy”

4. “Grey Britain” by Gallows. Holy crap. If you’ve only been exposed to broken heart pop-punk, take a lick of this and find out what real punk tastes like. So angry, and so socially conscious. They’re not calling for violence or overthrow, they’re warning that violence is on it’s way.”There ain’t no scapegoats left to blame.We brought this on ourselves, and we could have been the change.”

5. “Depression Suite” by The Tragically Hip. I rediscovered this song just a few weeks ago, and digging through the lyrics led me to a couple of very moving books and a thoroughly enriching experience. About camaraderie through hardship, making your own opportunities, and seeing it all through. Sure, you could bail on your current situation and exile yourself to the oilsands, but “don’t you wanna see how it ends? When the door is just starting to open?” That line made me think about life and that, despite the adversity or the chance that I won’t succeed, I still want to go on the ride and see how it all plays out.

6. “Sainthood” by Tegan and Sara. I feel such an emotional resonance to their songs, and they are both incredibly smoochable. Yes I know they are lesbians, and no I would not try to smooch them at the same time. I’ve said too much.

7. “Watch The Throne” by Jay-Z and Kanye West. Combining the two guys onto one record took the quality level up to almost 100%.

And another thing!

(I have 3 seemingly unrelated topics to write about: let’s see if I can tie them together with a pretty thematic bow. Also, the auto-spellchecker is broken, so prepare yourself for typos)

We’ll start off with the blood and guts story, since that always revs up a crowd. The wife went in for minor foot surgery on Friday, to remove a mysterious lump on the ball of her right foot. Surgery went well, foot is recovering, and I am once again reminded of how much I value our healthcare system. The cost of this surgery, if we would have paid for it ourselves, would have been more than the total health care premium we’ve paid in the last 5 years.  Without our public healthcare system, we would have had to delay the surgery until we could afford it, forcing my wife to walk around in pain until then. So, to everyone who pays their taxes every year, even the most adamant anti-tax people who rail against the immorality of taxation, thank you for paying your share and helping my family.

Speaking of taxes and paying for things, have you noticed how many different people are asking you for money recently? Part of that is a natural consequence of the season, the time of year when generosity is expected and so organizations make their big ask as Christmas approaches, and that’s always going to happen. But above and beyond that, there’s an expanding lineup of people asking for a donation, friends and family asking for 5 dollars here and 10 dollars there for a wide range of causes. It’s great to see so many people engaged and out there promotng their concerns, but there’s an easily met threshhold for how much fundraising the average person can handle before shutting the door to any new requests. And, time spent fundraising competes directly with work done in other areas to help the cause. Here’s an idea to chew over: the amount of individual fundraising you are subjected to is inversely related to the level of taxation. When we tax in a way that raises enough money to adequately fund the services we want, the gaps between services and needs are reduced. Here’s a specific example:

Several teachers that I’ve spoken to have talked about having to invest their own money to provide a fully equipped classroom. We’re not talking about iPads for each student or a fancy robot to sharpen your pencil crayons, we’re talking about basic supplies, like toys for a kindergarten class. The good teachers know what they need to effectively teach their students, and they pay out of their own pocket to cover the gap. But that can only happen for so long before the sacrifice to their own personal finances becomes too high, so the school has to institute their own fundraising efforts, innundating the parents with requests for money. The end result is that the parents resent the constant requests, the good teachers get tired of being underfunded and they quit, and the kids don’t get the education they deserve.  So, before you launch into another round of weeping about being “over-taxed” and demanding tax cuts and freezes, remember that any reduction in the taxes paid will add to the lengthy line of people who will be asking you for money.

During a trip to the central library today I witnessed an angry meltdown from a fellow in the hallway. He was being escorted from the hall outside of the library by a security guard while bellowing about whatever injustice had him so upset. I thought for a moment about what kind of assistance I could provide, but I had the little duded with me, so any kind of direct conflict resolution involvement was out of the question. And as I walked away from the noise, I wondered what could really be done to fix the situation. It’s really unlikely that the angry fellow was reacting in an appropriate way to being asked to stop whatever he was doing. Whatever the reasons for his rage, they didn’t start at the library, so simply saying “hey, shouting is uncool. Stop and let’s resolve your issue calmly” wouldn’t have done much good. You can easily imagine a chain of frustrating and humiliating events leading up to a blowup at the public library, events brought on by circumstances and by his own poor choices. The final result is that he’s shouting at an aged security guard over something inconsequential, and he can’t stop himself. I’ve seen the same kind of emotinal explosion with the little dude. If he’s really tired, and he’s had a very long and emotionally taxing week, he’ll get to the point that something, anything really, will set him off and send him into weeping hysterics. And when I ask him why he’s upset he’ll cry harder and wail “I don’t know”. We’ve all been there. I’m going to re-use the quote from Hugh MacLennan, because I think it fits this situation too:

“…there is no simple explanation for anything important any of us do, and that the human tragedy, or the human irony, consists in the necessity of living with the consequences of actions performed under the pressure of compulsions so obscure we do not and cannot understand them.”

Bad brain design

I have a gear in my mental engine that is dedicated to anxiously waiting. Seriously, why do I have that setting? Being committed to waiting means I accomplish almost nothing else, as I sit perched in a state of cat-like readiness for something that will happen regardless of my anticipation. Tomorrow morning the wife heads off to the hospital for minor foot surgery. Very, very early in the morning, in fact. and now, of course, I am already tense and prepped to leap into action. There is no action to leap into for at least 9 hours, and most likely, there won’t be any leaping required at all. Will I get a good night’s sleep in the 7 hour window I have available before she leaves and I’m on dad duty? I wouldn’t bet on it.

And the stress of the impending surgery is raising the collective household stress level, though so far the little dude is impervious to it. He’ll get to have a fun day out with his aunt tomorrow, so that will keep him happy and entertained while I sit here and fret the day away until the wife’s out of recovery and ready to get picked up. From that point on, until her foot is back online, I’ll be hefting more of the parenting load, including taking the morning shift. You know the morning shift: it’s the one that can start as early as 5AM, and will involve me trying to calmly get a sleepy and sour boy downstairs without waking up his convalescing mother. I have made the transition to waking up at 6:30 every morning, so 5AM isn’t as massive a gulf as it might have been, but it’s still way too early.

More about my brain machine: it’s all fragile ego and duct tape down here, but things are improving. A lot of the things that I’m trying to do right now require a ridiculous amount of self-confidence. And to be honest, they also require more experience and task-specific knowledge than I have. So when I send off article queries to major newspapers and magazines, I know that I’m punching above my weight. I’m out of my (current) league and it takes a tremendous effort to push myself to keep at it. Feel free to add in something about “leaving your comfort zone” to the mix here, but remember that my comfort zone has historically been really, really tiny. Anyway. This week, I fired off a handful of queries, and I got some valuable, if gruff, feedback from an assistant editor. The feedback didn’t come attached to a contract or anything, but it was helpful stuff. And as it usually does, the proof that I wasn’t perfect in every way sent me into a tiny panic as my self-esteem collapsed, but the recovery time from the deflation was much shorter than past instances. If I can keep stumbling forward like this, I’m going to get to a point where it will take an astounding event to challenge me, and that will be cool.

Neither here nor there, but I’ve got a sense that my professional life has some momentum. I can’t necessarily qualify the sensation as a jubilant one, though. It doesn’t feel like I’m being carried towards a glorious destiny. It feels like I’m caught in a river current that is tugging me down stream to some unknown eddy, or like the first serious lurches of a roller coaster. I think it will turn out to be a fun ride, but I can’t see the next stretch of tracks yet.