boots on a stump

The first house west of Woodward on some street in Ferndale (Saratoga, I think) has a pair of boots fastened in some fashion to a stump that's painted white sitting out front. The stump is tucked just under the edge of the bushes at the front of the house. This made me think it was put there just as the boots obviously were. When I saw them today, the boots were colored green from a recent lawn mowing. I couldn't imagine any other reason for such an arrangement than a dedication to a friend who had passed away. Whether or not that was its meaning, I was touched by the potentially intended sentiment. I thought about this maybe dead man (or woman) in the past standing on the stump, previously rooted in the house's backyard - maybe his own. On Friday or Saturday nights this guy would love to elevate himself several inches above his gathered friends and make some special announcement. Maybe he was famous for telling stories on that stump. He would stretch tall to demand attention and bend low to whisper at a dramatic moment in his tale. Or perhaps the stump was a shared stage for joke telling and karaoke; retired now. The white paint on the stump made the boots stand out, rather than blend in with the wood underneath. It seemed a fitting tribute.

the Quiz (a work in progress)

1. What do you want to do before you die?

I want to see Abu Simbel. I want to ride the subway in New York. I want to run a marathon. I want to be put up in the hospital. I want to have a piece of my writing published. I want to write a song. I want to eat sushi in a restaurant in Japan. I want to feel like I have no responsibilities. I want to see the band Halloween, Alaska live. I want to get married outside. I want to see a live platypus. I want to finish a New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle all on my own. I want to meet Simon Pegg. I want to survive an entire day eating nothing but bananas. I want to compile a decade's worth of monthly playlists. I want to own an electric car. I want to brew my own beer. I want to own and read every book by Kurt Vonnegut. I want to sleep for fourteen consecutive hours. I want to steal a street sign. I want to try curling and feather bowling. I want to visit Easter Island.

(6/11/2010)

Effulgence records

When I was eighteen or so I started my own "record company" called Effulgence. My logo was a bold-faced asterisk, and I numbered my records eff001, eff002, etc.

Of course, I had no connections with actual bands or actual music production equipment. My fun with this idea came from a keen interest in compiling mixes of my favorite songs into well-segueing playlists to fit 80 minute CD-Rs. I got the moniker from a poem by a friend/online-crush named Laura who lives in Vermont and lost my attention when I learned she drank. Mark's Hard Lemonade and an affinity for Jack Daniel's... two things that have plagued me ever since. She was the first person to give me a mix CD - for Christmas - and two songs from it still stand out in my mind: "Pretty Girls Make Graves" by the Smiths, and "Beautiful Freak" by Eels. The latter was the final track on the disc, and I believed that she wanted to be the freak: gorgeous in my eyes, and my eyes only, because one source of affection was all she needed. I spent some time combining spectacular songs into an anthology of my emotions in musical form. I decorated it with a large sharpied star, added eff001 in the bottom-right corner and mailed the CD to her; or I didn't mail the CD to her. In a haze of whiskey it's difficult to remember. In the following months, through AIM conversations I came on too strong. We grew apart, and at the time it was devastating. I have never been able to separate myself from moments of extreme heartache and longing. Everything exists in that instant. If I have any sort of good fortune it is counteracted by my inability to see my feelings in future-tense. I can plan for financial stability but my emotions are the shotgunned side of a dog whose caught rabies and still just won't die before another chance to sink his teeth in.

So several things stayed from that assembled selection of memories. I still make mixes. In fact, that aspect has been magnified. I burn a new CD every month. In my own way of accelerating my life, each new collection is more my thoughts and hopes in lyrical form. Beside, my ability to crumble at the feet of love has driven deeper. Living in the moment has left me trapped in the moment. Effulgent, I am, in making love my priority.

For all the CDs I've burned since eff004 - or wherever I left off - Effulgence records is no more.