Tag: #Reviews

  • ODDS and ENDS: Proof of Workouts, Sitting Still, and Goodbye Playlists/Hello Albums

    ODDS and ENDS: Proof of Workouts, Sitting Still, and Goodbye Playlists/Hello Albums

    (And Sunday always come too late…)

    Four people in a car driving through a forest with vibrant fall colors, all cheering and smiling
    A happy group enjoys a fun autumn drive surrounded by colorful fall foliage.

    My kid doesn’t believe that I do exercises. She knows I go to the gym, as she’s seen me do it. What she doesn’t believe is that, while she’s at school, I doo push-ups, sit-ups, and squats at home. She wants my wife, her mother, to take pictures or shoot a video of me working out at home. I don’t know how to feel about my child doubting me on this matter. Is she saying that I would lie about this? Or is she saying that there has been no progress in my size, so I must be lying? Or is she just making fun of me?

    We rented a place in Vermont over Memorial Day weekend, and we all had a good time. One thing that I noticed about myself was that I had a very difficult time just sitting still, being quiet, and not moving. The whole family has been under a great deal of stress this Spring, with jobs and school, and life in general, so the break was needed. But, with my inability to just be calm of twenty minutes, I started to wonder if I have burned myself out, and started to get use to feeling edgy all the time; as if stress is my default state, and I need to constantly engage in something.

    See, when we were driving back to New York City from Vermont over Memorial Day, we got stuck in some pretty bad traffic around Albany, and we started getting bored with our playlists. So, the wife asked what album did I want to listen to. The first thing that popped into my head was “Achtung Baby” which she put on, and it still holds up as a great album. Then the wife suggested “Ten” which was awesome to listen to as well. The kid wanted to listen to “Guts” which we all enjoyed. When we made it home, we decided that for this summer, for all of our road trips, we are only going to listen to albums. I had forgotten how much fun it was to road trip and go from album to album. Not since the days that I had a cd player in my car, had I done this.

  • ODDS and ENDS: I’m a Failed Drummer, Failed Tottenham, and We Sell Frogurt!

    ODDS and ENDS: I’m a Failed Drummer, Failed Tottenham, and We Sell Frogurt!

    (I thought it was the real thing…)

    I have got drumming on the brain again. I posted about Blondie’s “Heart of Glass” and I can’t get Clem Burke’s drums out of my head. I don’t like hyper-precision drumming, or supper fast and accurate drumming, which is what everyone sounds like now. It sounds lifeless and artificial to me. But Clem; Clem on that song is vital – adding another character to the song – driving, passionate, and accentuating theme of the song. And what I am most thankful for is to be a failed drummer. See, as one who sat behind a drum kit, and tried his hand at playing for a rock band, I learned two things; first is that drumming is a shit ton of fun, and second is that great drumming is exceptionally difficult. It has made me appreciate what great drumming on a song can do, how it can transform a song into something that isn’t just fun to listen to, but can ingrain itself into the core of what a song can make you feel. And just listening to Clem, man, I would kill to be able to play like that.

    Oh it’s bad. I mean, I didn’t think it could get much worse, but it did. Spurs melted like snow on warm ground against Crystal Palace yesterday – it was just awful to watch. Embarrassing is another word that I would use. I know the seasons isn’t over yet, and the odds are still on their side that they WON’T get relegated, but Sonny over at Sonny Talks Spurs has a rather different take than me, but not by much. I have been following the club for ten years now, and I had no idea that that 2016/17 was their high water mark. Ever since then, it has been a slow slide, or car wreck, or train wreck, or growing dumpster fire, what have you… I’m used to supporting a team that lives at the bottom of the barrel (I am a Cubs fan after all) so, seeing a team you love fail isn’t exactly new to me. But this is the first time that I have supported a sports team that gets kicked out of its league because its so bad. Chalk one up for a new experience, I guess.

    For no other reason than it makes me laugh.

  • Thoughts on the Kid’s First Broadway Show

    We had been planning this for a while, taking the kid to see HAMILTON on Broadway. It’s her favorite musical – she has the sound track memorized, and we’ve watched the Disney+ filmed musical performance like a hundred times. We had the opportunity to take her to other shows, but we knew HAMILTON was the only “first” show she could have AND we wanted to wait until she was old enough to appreciate what “seeing a Broadway show” really meant.

    Ans last week, was the right time. (If I might add, the middle of the week HAMILTON cast, with a couple of understudies that went on, was great!) The kid was excited, we made a whole evening out of it with dinner before, and souvenirs when we got to the theatre. The kid was bouncing in her seat when the lights started to dim, mouthed along to the songs that she loves, and, though she said she wouldn’t because she knows the show too well, cried like all of us at the end of the show.

    I would love to flatter myself and say that this was a life changing moment, or one of the core moments of her life, but I can’t say that; only she can – and it might still be years before she would say anything like that to me. No, I just provided a platform, and I hope that it inspires or encourages her in some way.

    For me, it was a very big deal. I don’t do a lot of Broadway. Not that I have an issue with it, but my theatrical heart lies Off-Off-Off Broadway, in the little weird and small houses that play strange and experimental shows. I have taken the kid to see those (mainly quirky puppet shows that friends of mine do) so she knows that world of theatre. Now, after having seen a big, huge, famous show on Broadway, I think the kid has been exposed to both ends of the theatre spectrum.

    And I think that’s my job as a parent – helping the kid experience things, and see as much different art as possible. I’m not expecting her to go into the arts, and if she doesn’t, that’s fine. But art and storytelling are important, and can lead to a better understanding of the world around you. Especially when it comes to understanding that we are all the same. We all love, we all hurt, we all give, and we all take.

  • Short Story Review: “The Honest Island” by Greg Jackson

    (The short story “The Honest Island” by Greg Jackson appeared in the November 11th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Yosigo

    “The Honest Island” by Greg Jackson revolves around, and functions off of, the idea that the protagonist, Craint, finds himself on an island, but he can’t remember how he got there, or why he is there, or pretty much anything else. It’s a good type of mystery to start a story off with. In case you don’t know, “craint” also happens to be the French word for “fear.” (Yup, it’s that type of story.)

    Craint goes about his business on this small island. Generally, staying at his small B & B, going to the beach, napping, drinking beer at sunset, and contemplating why he can’t remember anything. Yet this doesn’t bother him too much. Though he can’t speak the local language, he has found ways to get by, and even has met a woman whom he occasionally dines with, but nothing much happens with her. Craint can see across the harbor, where a city looms, so he knows he’s not completely cut off from the world, but at the same time, he cannot seem to find the ferry to take him off the island. Then along comes a new person, a man named Budger, who also is confused as to why he is there, and persuades Craint to show him around the island. FYI: “budger” is an English word from the early 1600, which means a person who stirs or budges. (See, that type of story.)

    It’s not a bad story, it’s okay, but at certain moments, it can be heavy handed. (Have I mentioned the character’s names?) What works for the story is how the mystery of the piece, the tone, and setting, work very well together. It feels solid, but also like shifting sand under your feet. Jackson didn’t over play that hand, which kept the story compelling and engaging. Where the story lost steam, was the rush to the conclusion. What came before in the story took it’s time, but the ending felt like it was trying to beat the clock and get to the finish line. For that reason, what the conclusion was didn’t feel complete, and in a strange way, predictable.

  • Short Story Review: “Autobahn” by Hugo Hamilton

    (The short story “Autobahn” by Hugo Hamilton appeared in the September 23rd, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Christoph Niemann

    Funny how a situation, a moment that you are experiencing, can unlock a memory that even sometimes has nothing to do with what you are doing. Walking into my kid’s school the other day, I started to remember being at my grandmother’s house, and how it would smell when she was making apple dumplings. Interesting, how moments in our lives can be keys to the past. Hugo Hamilton’s “Autobahn” plays around with that idea, but in a more dramatic fashion.

    Here’s a super simple description of the story: The narrator, an Irish hitchhiker in Germany, is questioned at gun point by a police officer along the Autobahn, and while being held there, the narrator begins to remember his father.

    This is a very short story, and though it isn’t a flash piece, it had that quality to it. Also, this story did remind me of a song, perhaps because there were two “melodies” happening with the piece; the cop story line, and the father story line. (And then it could be that the story ends mentioning a Doors’ song.) I found that Hamilton did a good job switching between these two narratives, like jumping from the chorus to the bridge, and then back again. Both story lines had the threat of violence to them, which created tension needed to keep the story dramatic, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that the narrator was never really in danger.

    What I found most interesting about “Autobahn” were two bits; one was the theme, and the other was the climax. I liked how Hamilton laid out the difficult and conflicting the relationship was between the narrator and his father. How the father could be abusive toward his son, but also encourage his son’s talents, and how circling that square is a never-ending challenge which ends up making memories of the father always close to the surface. Then there was the climax, where the narrator describes a moment when he saw his father at a newsstand, but his father didn’t see him. It was drawn well, and had a lasting but fleeting feeling to it.

    I liked this story, though it did feel light. Like, the story wanted to go to a third gear, so the speak, but pulled back in the last section. Over all, Hugo Hamilton created a very specific emotional moment, that I could relate to, as sometimes you can’t stop a memory from coming up.