A Time Before the Erasing of Distance

Farewell for now.

I have decided that I am going to take some time away from the internet. Those of you who know me well, or have been reading this blog for years, know that I inherently question technology. I used to think myself a Luddite, but have since concluded that to be untrue. But I am perpetually aware of how my time is spent, for better or worse. The truth is that the internet has done much good for me and the world. That is likely an understatement. An immeasurable amount. But…..I will not enumerate the many ways that I find fault with the world wide web. Suffice it to say I could carry on. I thought I would write in detail about my feelings in this regard, but I just feel rather apathetic about it at the moment. The general malaise.

More than anything I just want a break. I want to know again what it feels like NOT to check my email, and look around unnecessarily online. Why do I check my damn email so often? Why do I come in the house, and while I await my wife and the baby (coming down any minute) look at photos of Bill Frisell via google? I could of course postulate a number of theories, but I will refrain. To be truthful, I fear that I have an addiction to the internet. Moreover, I fear that much of the affluent world does. I don’t intend (at present) to foist my woes upon the you about this aspect of the matter, but it has been much on my mind.

I confess (not proudly) that there was a time in my life years past, when I spent as much time looking at porn on this damn machine as I did playing the guitar. That, my dear reader is a sad state of affairs. What power the computer has. I have become acutely aware of the fact that the internet has reshaped my thinking. Now this is fine in some way, and entirely inevitable. But I think to have what I would define as a healthy relationship with the internet, (at least for myself) I need to step back from it for a bit and evaluate.

For example: I acquired my first cell phone in the summer of 2004 just before I rode my bicycle across the country. The purpose of this was to speak with my (then girlfriend) wife while on the road. (Of course the hidden purpose of this was to give AT&T far too much of my hard earned money.) Nevertheless, I was quite grateful for the phone. I arrived in Maine, married my wife, and cancelled the account. We got another in 2006 just before driving across the country, as we would be without a home for a few months on the road. This too was a good decision. We have kept that phone and use it now and then when one of us travels, or we both travel. In that way, I find it to be a wonderful thing. But I do not carry it around with me at any other time. I know this may sound insane to many of you, and there certainly is reason to have one. I do not pass judgment here. In my case, at present, I just don’t want to use it any more than that.

So what about the internet? Well. I use it too much. Shortly after my wife and I had our son, people asked me if I could remember what it was like not to have a son. I said yes. I think I am supposed to so no, but I said yes. I still say yes. But it is becoming more and more difficult to recall that former self. The Jeff who was not a father. But if you ask me the same question about the internet, I must say no. Of course I can recall, but it is foggy and distant. So I seek perspective.

I just finished reading My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk. In it, one of the characters says that at its core, life is about mystery. I’m not sure that I agree with this entirely, but it does resonate. What happens for example, when I always eat at “the best” restaurant because google told me so? Perhaps it would be good (both physically and metaphorically) to get lost now and then. I recently re-read something written many years ago by scholar Walter Benjamin, from his book titled “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction.” I’ve begun to wonder if our homogenized world, our global ideals (not mine or even likely even yours) have begun to seep into my everyday usage of this machine. Have I become a mechanically reproduced human of this organizing body? Are my patterns of thought becoming shaped by the fact that the internet exists. The fact that I can?

Am I close with anyone with whom I only email? (Not really.) How much time would I spend on youtube if I had to pay for every second? How many times would I check my email, if each ‘checking’ cost a dollar?

I said I wasn’t going to carry on, so I’ll stop. I had half a mind to write some academic treatise on the matter, but... I wonder what will happen in my absence?

A few confessions though: I will continue to listen to NPR, though I will do so by streaming in iTunes. Humor me…we live in a town of 700 people, and drive 40 minutes to the grocery store once a week. I will also (of course) sign on if I need to find an optometrist or something of that nature that I am having trouble locating. Medical needs. Or financial. If for some reason I need to get to my bank or something. You know. Back to the old days.

See you in June.

Computing, Blog(s), Etc.

1. Yes, I am still writing online, it is just that my wife talked me into keeping two blogs. (The other seems to be at least a weekly endeavor.)

2. We have returned from California to the snow and the Flu. How can anyone's body produce this much mucus? (not to be gross) How can any place produce so much snow? Never having left the snow during winter before, it is a terribly odd thing to know that people are sitting outside having dinner right now. Doing yoga on the beach. What?

3. I have decided two things: One, I will begin limiting myself to three days a week of internet (this includes email) usage. Two, in the month of May, I will not use the internet at all. Not once. It is (or perhaps is not) strange how excited I am about this.

4. I reada fantastic interview with Nicolas Carr in the current issue of The Sun, which made me think a bit more seriously about my internet usage. Old readers will recall that this has been on my mind for many years now, and I suppose I am simply trying to be more conscious of my connection to the computer.

5. I am heading for South by Southwest in a week, and excited to see a bunch of great bands. It is overwhelming really, how many there are. How many the world will never hear.

The Beloved State

Though the image will indeed look familiar to readers, the experience that the above image suggests will be entirely different. Indeed, I will be playing a show in California next weekend, and California this time of year, is quite different from Washington DC. While I am of course excited to see my family, some friends, play some music, and eat copious amounts of Mexican food; at this juncture of winter I am looking forward to being warm out of doors. Relatively speaking. I read The Sheltering Sky, The Old Man and the Sea, and The Power and the Glory in the last weeks, in the hopes of some feeble escape. Which worked in a way.

So today is my son's first birthday, and we are awash in memory. He was still not yet born a year ago, though close. It is hard to quantify or even begin to explain with words the magnitude of this experience; what it has done to my heart. What else can I say? Alas, I cannot help the below.....

The Wind is King

I receive the news that the groundhog went back to his/her hole. Crackpot science or not, this is not what one wants to hear living in this part of the world. The last few weeks have been something of a blur, as my wife has been busy finishing up a new book. I have been anxiously watching the days grow longer (though it was 17 degrees below zero fahrenheit when I walked the dog this morning) and making time to get some work done myself. I have been in the midst of cleaning out my musical closet as it were, which means re-mixing old odds and ends, and beginning the process of finishing up the last of the unfinished things I have lying around.

The above photo and subsequent ones below, were shot at a recent show in Washington DC. Suffice it to say, I could put every shot up here, of which there are many, but I will spare us all. They were shot by Brooklyn photographer Jeff Hutton, who was as kind as his lens.

In the meantime, as always I read. I just finished The Sheltering Sky, by Paul Bowles, an astoundingly good novel. Of course I am glad to have read it after a trip to Morocco, not before, though it did make me wish to return. I lament that we did not somehow make it to Timbuktu.

And I ramble. I realize that I have little to say on this sunny, cold, February evening. I hear my son upstairs banging on something, my dog asleep at my feet. It sounds so quaint until you go outside, where the wind is king and the snow squeaks.

Below are Christian Kiefer and J. Matthew Gerken respectively. I wanted to be democratic, and put photos up of the whole band, but I would have been here for hours. Dinner is upon us.

Someone to Wake

I am not entirely sure what to say, so I say this: I cried today listening to Obama. I am sure that many years from now, I will remember sitting in the living room as the snow fell outside the window. My son walked laps back and forth pushing a cardboard box for support, as the first African American was sworn into the office of president. I will remember that it felt like the whole world could change, like we could actually fix the ills of humanity. As unrealistic as this may sound, I happen to believe that such optimism is the only way that people have truly changed the world throughout history. I'm sure people told Martin Luther King Jr. that he too was crazy and unrealistic.

So I will remember that I had just arrived home form that historic city, a fifteen hour drive through a blizzard, where I played music in honor of the men who have held this office. That the plow would wake me each morning at four am this winter. That I would see photos of me playing my new guitar for the first time that day, and think it a beautiful instrument. That perhaps the small things could come to matter again in American Politics, because the big things were finally being dealt with. That maybe world did change in one quick moment.

The above illustration of Obama was done by Rama Hughes for the new song Christian Kiefer wrote for our presidents record about said gentlemen. The song was sung by Will Johnson of the Texas band Centro-matic, and I played the aforementioned new guitar on the tune. You can go grab the song at NPR and listen to another brief interview. Feel free of course to post the tune on your own blogs, websites, etc. I confess that my secret dream is for Obama to hear it and invite us to play The White House and have dinner with his family. Now that would be something.

January 17th

I believe Christian Kiefer said it quite well today in an interview (scroll down): (I paraphrase) "I would like to be able to say that I was there, but I don't really have much interest in standing around in a crowd of four million people." Ditto.

You see next week I am headed to Washington DC to play a show in honor of the inauguration. (see above) The show itself is on the 17th, a mere three days before the historic date. And yet, by the time the beloved Obama takes the podium, I will be back in the snowy drifts of Ontario, likely quite glad to be free of the crowds. I know that in years to come, people will say to me, "but you were there a few days before and you left?" "Yes, I left."

Nevertheless, I will almost be there. Or rather, I will be there, and then I will not. Anyway, we are indeed playing a big show which happens to be a benefit, with the proceeds going to a great organization called Bands for Lands. I'm looking forward to feeling the buzz of what will undoubtedly be a city charged with a flurry of excitement, and happy to be a part of it in some oblique way. In some regard, I suppose it is cooler in the end to have played a gig about the presidents, than it would have been to stand outside in the cold with millions of people, eating warm nuts. Or pretzels. Screaming and waving banners. Not to make light of arguably one of the most important events of my lifetime, but I have a hunch I will feel good to drive out of the city that following morning.

Tickets to the show can be bought via Live Nation or at the door.

We also have a song about Obama forthcoming for download (I think via NPR) that is most excellent if I say so. Penned by Kiefer, sung by Will Johnson of the Texas band Centromatic with appearances in some form from all three of us, it sounds a bit like R.E.M., and a bit like Christian Kiefer, and a bit like Centromatic, and a bit like...You get the idea. Anyway, I'll keep you posted of course.

Two.

How in the hell did my wife talk me into keeping two blogs? Insanity I tell you.

Then it feels silly, that I am writing there and not here. So I feel compelled to cut and paste the writing here from there, but it doesn't make any sense out of context. What to do?