Month: November 2021

  • That Song Triggers That Memory

    I went grocery shopping this morning. It is one of the rare moments in my week where I can listen to music uninterrupted. I take the subway down to the Trader Joe’s on 93rd, and there is a little bit of a walk. Early in the morning, after the kids are in school, and people have left for work, there aren’t many folks on the street, so I can jam out to my music; I can get it.

    And as I was riding the subway home with my bags, my playlist randomly gave me “Bye Bye Love,” by The Cars. I have heard this song since forever, and its hints of unrequited love made it such a wonderful juxtaposition of a song, contrasting with its upbeat rock tempo.

    Not sure why, but I added it to a playlist in mid 2018, and listened to it quite heavily. In September 2018, I was visiting a friend from college and her husband in a rather cool Brooklyn apartment that was in a walkup building, and they had access to a rooftop garden. That kind’a cool apartment, you know? We were drinking, a lot, and started playing a game of finding videos and concerts on YouTube of songs we loved. I picked “Bye Bye Love,” from a club concerts The Cars played in 1979. I liked it, but not sure if it played well in the room.

    But the memory of what I was feeling in that moment is still attached with that song. I felt lonely, because my wife and daughter were 3,000 miles away in California. I felt paralyzed as I was supposed to be packing up our apartment for our move to California, but I couldn’t get myself to do it. I was about to start rehearsals for what would be the last show I worked on, which had me excited to see my friends who I love and I am amazed by. And I couldn’t shake the feeling of doom, as my mother had cancer, and I knew she wouldn’t recover.

    My college friend lost her father when she was younger, and I knew if there was a friend who could understand what I was feeling, it would be her. And I think of her as one of my close friends, but I couldn’t talk about it. I just lied. I said it was looking better, and we have to believe in hope, and all that stuff. But I didn’t mean it. I said the thing I thought was expected. I didn’t tell the truth.

    I don’t hate listening to “Bye Bye Love,” or The Cars. Sometimes that memory and feeling doesn’t settle over me when I hear it. Some days, I’m okay when I think of my mother’s passing. And then one day, I hear a song, and it all comes back to me while on a B train, heading uptown.

  • Site Update, and What Am I Doing?

    After I posted the ODDS and ENDS blog on Friday, I decided that it was time to start monkeying around with the blog site. The old site was just the blog, and an ABOUT page. It was more basic than basic, and thinking back to when I originally started this blog, I wasn’t too concerned about how things looked. But, being that I am blogging twenty times a month now, and on some days have four views, I decided that I needed to step up my game. Hence, the new:

    matthewgroffblog.wordpress.com

    I have a Home page now, as well as an updated About page. There is a dedicated Blog page, which I will talk about more later. I created a page specific for The ALGOT Blogs, which are my most popular posts, and now the three-part story is in one location. (Also, Ikea discontinued the ALGOT line of products, in case you haven’t heard.) Last, there is the Archive page, so you know, you can read my progress as a blogger.

    And the Blog itself. I decided that it was time to drop the “250 Word” theme. I don’t think the four of you that were reading this were here because of the concise word format I chose to use. The original idea was to train myself to write effectively, while using the fewest words as possible. Not sure if I have attained that skill, but I have started to move away from the idea that I need only write 250 words.

    The last thought that I had, as I was finishing up the site on Sunday night, was should I bite the bullet and buy the domain, and stop using the free WordPress.com site? That question raised some other questions that I haven’t answered yet, but am still thinking about. Spending money on this site is like saying that I am taking it seriously now, so am I serious about this? I have been doing this for a year, going from one view to four views on average, so what do I hope to achieve with the purchase? I’m not setting the world on fire here, so what’s the point?

    The point? For me, I’m a stay at home parent now. I take care of my family, especially my daughter, and I need a creative outlet. I need something that I can work on, look forward to, that is for me. I need to do something that validates my existence in this very strange and odd world that I live in. So… Do I need to pay to attain that?

  • ODDS and ENDS: The Subway, Aaron Rodgers, and I’m Not Talking About Tottenham This Week

    “ODDS and ENDS” is my continuing series of random thoughts and follow ups…

    Riding on the subway sucks right now. I keep on thinking that I am going to get comfortable with it, but it still makes me anxious. Though I am vaccinated, I still don’t like people getting near me when I am in a car. And I especially don’t like unmasked people being around me. Then, the kappa donna is when I ride with the kid. I become super edgy with people, and try to get as far away from them as possible, in an attempt to keep my kid safe. I know that when she gets vaccinated, which will be soon, some of these feelings will ease up. But as of now, it’s like a necessary evil to get around the city.

    So… Aaron Rodgers was having so much fun because he was fooling everyone. Or he was all hyped up on B-12 shots. Either way, nice try Rodgers…

    Tottenham has a new manager, and barely got past Vitesse in their Europa Conference match. Sure, it was Conte’s first time leading the team, but looks like they have the same old problems that a manager can’t change. Spur’s defense is awful, and that’s where the fix needs to happen. I think between Lucas, Son and Kane, goal scoring is taking care of. They just need to stop the other side, and get the ball back on transition. (I sort of sound like I know what I am talking about.) Tottenham play Everton this weekend, and I don’t see them pulling it off. But… I’ll be there with my scarf on, watching them play.

  • Short Story Review: “The Umbrella” by Tove Ditlevsen

    (The short story “The Umbrella” by Tove Ditlevsen, translated from the Danish by Michael Favala Goldman, was featured in the October 25th, 2021 issue of The New Yorker.)

    When it comes to reading, and then writing my little reviews of, the short stories that are featured in The New Yorker, I do not do any research on the writers until after I publish my blog post. I want to let the story speak for itself, and not invite any outside influence to come into play. (The Sally Rooney story was the one exception, but I’m a fan of hers so that was that kind’a expected…) This way my expectations can be hedged, and I enter the story with an open mind.

    Wow, this story was Scandinavian! It’s like Ibsen’s ghost took a pass at this story. (I wonder if non-Americans think Mark Twain’s influence is present in all American writers?) I don’t necessarily mean that as a bad thing, but within a few words, “The Umbrella” sets a very specific tone, which I think bodes well for Michael Favala Goldman’s ability to translate Tove Ditlevsen’s story. The plot is straight forward, and I am not being condescending when I say this. It is about a young woman, Helga, who marries Egon, and the difficulties that arise in their new marriage, and also Helga’s desire to own a beautiful umbrella. And, as I am sure that you can guess, it’s about more than that.

    Which is why I said it is so Scandinavian! From the Third Person Omniscient narration, to the setting being early winter, to characters staring out windows watching people walk by, even to the conversation between Helga and her mother about a Christmas where Helga cried over her gifts… this story has a tone and mood that is thick and enveloping. But I didn’t find it overpowering, as the story was about the little disappointments in life, and how people try to connect, and also how people try to move on, and what they have latched onto from their past to help them do that. It had a brutal honesty, that wasn’t unpleasant, but was unflinching.

  • The Act of Journaling

    I read an article in this week’s New Yorker, entitled “The Paper Tomb,” about the journals of Claude Fredericks. Who, you ask? In fact, the article starts off the same way. Unless you went to Bennington College, or are a deep dive fan of the novel, “The Secret History,” odds are you are like me, and this would be the first time his name has shown up in your life. What makes Claude Fredericks interesting, at least in this article, is that he spent an entire lifetime journaling, and expected it to be published. Also, Fredricks was an early proponent, autofiction, though in his mind, he saw the journal as the vessel of this media, and not the novel.

    I read the article last night, and I have been thinking about it since. I do like the ambition of a longhaul documentation of one’s life, in the sense that it is a fascinating art project. It’s like Andy Warhol’s “Sleep,” five and a half hours of a guy sleeping. Sure, it’s an anti-film, but it also plays on the idea of documentation to the point where it is actually just witnessing life. Can you truly document an entire life? We all know the answer is no. You cannot witness someone else’s entire life, nor can you get every detail of life down on paper.

    But what is it then? I journal, and I know a great number of other people who journal as well. Hell, Gary Shandling was a prolific with his journals. Are we doing this for ourselves, or do we all intend to have someone read them one day? Isn’t this just a fancy literary way of talking to ourselves?

    I have completed 38 journals that are anywhere from 200 to 300 pages long each. I started when I was 18 and continue to this day. They are in a box in the office, and most days I don’t think about them. Then I complete a journal, and go to throw it into that box, and that’s when I ask myself, who is this really for?