Keeping Time

Every half-hour, between eleven and four, the whistle of the steamboat Sabino sounds. The one-hundred-plus-year-old boat carries tourists from the Mystic Seaport Museum on a short tour of the Mystic Estuary. The timing of her departure is dictated by another, more important, Mystic timekeeper: The bascule bridge. The span lifts at forty minutes past the hour, every hour, from April until November. At other times, boats must contact the bridge an hour in advance of their approach. The Sabino begins her steam downriver at the half hour in order to make the bridge at the forty. The raising of the bridge is preceded by the long sounding of a fire-alarm bell. The gates lower, and the the pedestrians, lulled into a false sense of security by the end of the bell, all jump when the steam whistle sounds. The procedure is reversed as the bridge lowers, all taking about ten minutes, depending on the amount of boat traffic on the estuary.

Main Street changes from East Main Street to West Main Street on crossing the bridge, and the town's (tourist-supported) business district follows along it. At the upper end of West Main, just after the bank, just before downtown ends, sits Mystic Pizza, Mystic's other landmark. Unlike the regimented sounds of the Sabino and the bascule bridge, Mystic Pizza's sound is constant; the speakers under the awning send rock and roll into the street as long as the restaurant is open.

Up West Main; UBC and Mystic Pizza.

Open since 1973, and famous since 1988, Mystic Pizza slavishly broadcasts nostalgia for a time not so long past. A scrubbed-clean version of Mystic Pizza (Petrie, 1988) plays non-stop within the restaurant.

At noon and six, this piped-in nostalgia provides counterpoint to another of Mystic's auditory landmarks: The bells of Union Baptist Church. One of the two conjoined buildings that form the aptly-named Union Baptist Church was the non-denominational Mariners' Free Church, built on the same location in 1825 by "the sea-faring men of the village." That building was connected, at a ninety-degree angle, with the Second Baptist Church in 1861, creating the structure that now sits just uphill of Mystic Pizza, and just downhill of the Mystic-Noank Public Library.

On walk up West  Main, it is possible to stand between Mystic Pizza and Union Baptist, and take in the hymns and the oldies simultaneously. Half an hour later, in the same place, you'll hear the whistle, then the bell, then second whistle. The town clock and the steeple were both blown down from Union Baptist in the hurricane of 1938, and not replaced until 1969. The aforementioned carillon was installed in the new steeple, but in downtown Mystic, the clock is superfluous.

Turn, Turn, Turn

I. Whoever Would Love Life

"Whoever would love life
      and see good days
   must keep his tongue from evil
      and his lips from deceitful speech.
 He must turn from evil and do good;
      he must seek peace and pursue it."

This passage, as the diction may have indicated to you, is from the Bible. This blows my mind. Rarely do I think of the Bible as giving explicit instruction on how to love life, yet there it is, right at the top. It encourages me that this passage exists, and I love these words. But perhaps more interesting is where this passage exists. If you click on that link, you'll see that it is from First Peter 3, (1) a chapter known for its controversial "Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands" passage (2).  More important to this reading for me is the fact that "Whoever would love life, etc.," a passage I have never heard of or heard discussed before, is nestled in the shadow of this other, controversial and thus popular passage.

This is one of my favorite things about the Bible: Not only is it polyglot and heterogeneous on a grand scale, it also manages such diversity on a micro level, as evidenced here. I recently found myself drawn to another passage in a similar situation...

II. Beautiful In Its Time

"I have seen the burden God has laid on men. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil—this is the gift of God." (3)

This passage is, coincidentally, (4) also located in the third chapter of its book (Ecclesiastes). It follows immediately after the famous "To everything there is a season" passage, and again, it's not one I have ever heard discussed, yet it rings very true with me.

III. ?

I feel like there should be some sort of wrapup here, but I don't know what to say. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

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(1) Paraphrasing the psalms.

(2) As someone who identifies as a feminist on some level, that passage always troubles me. But that is, for this post, beside the point.

(3) In the interests of gender awareness and equality, I always feel compelled to write "[sic]" after "men" in passages like that. But I cannot use "[sic]" in any context without feeling like a pretentious ass, so I abstain, while mentioning it here.

(4) Or, if you're into numerology, not coincidentally at all.

---

Life Update:
I am going swing dancing tonight. I just finished reading Jane Eyre. I heartily recommend both.

Breakfast

Susan, one of the residents here at Labaree House in Mystic, is renowned for making large sandwiches. So when I saw her this morning eating a very modest breakfast sandwich, I had to ask what was on it. "Oh," she said, "Just jelly and butter. It is a very Zen sandwich."

"I've never heard a sandwich described as Zen," I said.

"Yeah," she said, "Usually my sandwiches are... what's the opposite of Zen?"

I gave my answer, but I wanted to ask you, friends:

What is the opposite of Zen?

Take-Away

I know I've mentioned Daytrotter here. Let me re-remind you to visit Daytrotter. But let me also point
you to Take-Away Shows.


I. Distribution & Ideology

The fact that sites like Daytrotter and Takeaway Shows exist is an encouragement to me. They fill a previously (as in, 'before the internet') non-existent niche in music distribution: the space between live shows and album recordings. The sense of improvisation that makes for the best live shows is present in these 'in-between' recordings, and they are presented in an audio quality that  exceeds underground concert recordings, but not so slickly produced as an album. That's in terms of distribution; it is ideologically pleasing to know that, via sites like these, bands can promote themselves without need to go to a record label; that they can circumvent strategies of profit-making.

You will note, however, that I'm not specifically recommending bands' myspace pages or self-released albums, though both allow bands to circumvent the labels. I like these two sites in particular for reasons other than ideology.

II. The Music

In terms of musical creation, these sessions sit in another in-between space: between jam/rehearsal and live show. The feeling is intimate, sometimes unpolished, and (especially at TakeAway Shows) you get closer to the band than you could at any but the smallest of venues (Swarthmore's Olde Club comes to mind). And that's the kind of performance I like. I understand the allure of the rock'n'roll show, of the onstage extravaganza of dancers and lights equally choreographed, but I do not prefer it.

And that's the second reason I recommend these sites: I genuinely like this music. It is, certainly not in all cases, but in the ones I seek out and enjoy, it is music that is both participatory and mobile. It can spring up spontaneously, and it invites people to join it. The former is a function, to some degree of the instrumentation: acoustic, portable. The latter, of the composition and arranging: simple, rhythmic.

This combination takes the best of folk bands (in the old community or family band sense, not in the post-60s folk band sense) and marching bands, and makes music for everyone; the opposite of the record label model (music for those who have the technology to reproduce it and to purchase those reproductions). That's what I like about these sites.

III. The List

I was going to incorporate links to some of my favorite Daytrotter sessions and Take-Away Shows into the body, but I think I'll just put them right here.

III.i. Daytrotter
AA Bondy
Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes
The Low Anthem
The Preservation Hall Jazz Band
Spoon

III.ii. Take-Away Shows
Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes
The Low Anthem
Megafaun
Mumford & Sons

Enjoy!

Travels

I'm kind of coming towards the end of my vagabond summer (or, to use a T.S. Eliot phrase that I love: "that ineffable zero summer"). Or I'm smack in the middle of it. Here's a brief roundup:

5/31: Graduation
6/1 - 6/21: Allentown
6/21 - 7/21: New Hampshire
7/21 - 7/28: Mystic
7/28 - 7/29: The Mystic Whaler
7/29 - 7/31: New York City
7/31 - 8/2: Philadelphia & Surrounds
8/2 - 8/5: Allentown
8/5 - 8/13: Spruce Lake Wilderness Camp
And after that, to Harrisburg (contingent, of course, upon finding an apartment and a job there). 

If you're reading this, and I know you, and I haven't talked to you recently, give me a call or drop me an email. Or better, a real letter. I read this article yesterday, while sitting in the Mystic-Noank Public Library (see also, the cat), and wanted to remind myself (and y'all) that this blog is meant to engender, not eliminate, communication. The best address for snail mail is my parents' place in Allentown:

1415 West Linden Street
Allentown, PA 18102

The Chicken Story

 It started, brainstorming in the guys' dorm. "What if we put a live chicken in their room?" said someone. "And then what?" "And then there'd be a live chicken in their room!"

Four of us decided to get it done: Wes Willison, Andrew Van Buren, Jamie Birney, and myself. Wes tapped me on the shoulder at dinner, and we drove off in Jamie's car with no clear destination. We searched the iPhone: farm. petting zoo. pet store. "It's gotta be close. We need to get there, drop the chicken, and get back before anyone suspects anything." Later, we realized that everyone suspected something (though no one suspected the correct thing).  We had no destination within miles, so when we spotted a wild turkey off the side of the road, it was inevitable that we would at least try to chase it down, me holding out my flannel shirt to... I don't even know what. Bag it? Blind it? Prevent it from pecking me to death? In the end, it was irrelevant. Wild turkeys are fast.

We drove into town, despairing. We parked in a parking lot at an ice cream / diner / beer store. Wes and I went in and (I only learned this later) Jamie and Andrew held a brief prayer service for our endeavor. The waitress glared at us. "You want to buy a chicken?" "Renting one would also be good." "You want to rent a live chicken?" The manager came out. "Well I know someone, but, for that, no."

We drove on. There was nothing nearby. We had no leads. So we began the sad process of brainstorming our backup prank. "What about dyeing their toilet water purple?" one of us said. We took this sad approximation of a prank as our only hope, and drove to a grocery store. It was five minutes before closing. At the register, the locals watched us purchase the 'grape' powder, bemused, but not nearly as bemused as they were about to be.

"Do you know where we can find a live chicken?" we asked.

A kid around our age, sitting on the Aged Pine Log Bench ($129.99) answered: "Sure, Anthony Soto, he raises chickens, out in Yulan."

He gave us directions. He may have given us hope as well, but we had settled for grape drink, and weren't willing to be crushed again.

"Tell him John sent you," he said, "no, no, wait--tell him Brian sent you. He knows Brian better."

We drove to Yulan and heard Anthony Soto's dog barking in front of his mobile home. We knocked. We explained our plan, and this time, at the inevitable question "So why do you want a chicken?" we had our answer: "We want them to come back to their room and say "Oh My God, a Chicken!"

"No, sorry," said Anthony Soto, in a tone that indicated that he wasn't.

We went back to the car, and the 'grape' powder. We opened the doors. Jamie may have had the key in the ignition, when the other Anthony Soto (Little Anthony, to his father's Big Anthony) called from the porch: "Hey! If you can catch one, you can take one for the night."

We looked at each other, and stalked back into the yard. The flock scattered. The chickens escaped, one of them into a secure nesting place amidst a metal truss. She stayed there as the four of us surrounded her, sure of her safety. AVB fished her out, telling her that she was a "pretty baby." She rode back to camp in a copy paper box.

If you weren't there (unlikely, if you cared enough to read this far), you will want to know that we took the copy paper box and put it in the girls' shower. We blocked the entrance to the shower with a mattress. We went to our scheduled activity, and walked in at five minute intervals.

"All right, what did you guys do?" we were asked. We smirked and said nothing. "Did you pull a prank?" I think we tried to deny it, but eventually we said something along the lines of "Well yeah, but you could never imagine what it is." Which of course set them to guessing, but we said nothing.

The chicken, for her part, was the best chicken we could've caught. There was a class going on in the girls' dorm, but she squawked only once. She defecated twice, both times in the expendable lid of the copy paper box. She pecked no one, even in the frenzy surrounding her discovery.

We spent a good part of that night being mysterious about where the chicken had come from. We took congratulations and strange looks from folks who hadn't, before that night, known us. "We didn't have to break any laws" (true, unless slipping Little Anthony a twenty as we drove off was illegal) was all we would say about our journey. Until now, that is.

List

Location: Mystic, CT; Bruggeman Place
Music: Bill Frisell, The Willies

Weather: Thunderstorm
Companions: Known and unknown
Dinner: Homefires [homefries] and black beans
Left hand: Chord fingers callousing
Right hand: Kayaking blisters callousing
The Chicken Story: Soon to be released