For those of you who don't know, my husband is a music snob.
His snobbery on this subject covers a wide range of musical tastes, but he is mainly most outspoken about rock and roll (with an affinity especially for late 60's/early 70's and jazz funk groups). This has at times created many memorable, and embarrassing (for me), conversations with friends and acquaintances. I will never forget the the happy hour where he almost spit out his beer after a co-worker of mine requested Nickleback be played by the live guitarist. Nor will I forget the time that he drunkenly belittled our current roommate for guessing that Ringo was her favorite Beatle. I will not discuss in depth the look of disgust on his face when another co-worker of mine asked, very innocently, what was meant when the radio announcer yelled "It's time to get the Led out."
The great thing about having a husband who is a music snob, is that there is always new and interesting music in our house and on my computer. And the BEST thing about it is that I didn't even have to go out and research or buy any of it. It's like he's my own personal Pandora or iPhone app, making suggestions based on what he knows I like - or what he is brainwashing me to like.
To help (mostly me) catch up on a band's sound, we play a little game. If you're making a suggestion for someone to listen to a new band, you need to describe that band by listing:
A) two other, different bands that if blended together, would sound like the suggested band
B) a noun
and
C) a place
Sounds complicated, but really, it's very helpful and easy once you get the hang of it.
For example, our favorite touring bar band is Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers. Some of you may remember Roger as the lead singer of The Refreshments in the mid 90's. I've been going to Peacemaker shows for about 8 years now and you will not have a better time. But if you're not quite convinced yet, listen to this explanation.
Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers is a combination of:
A) Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers
A) Jimmy Buffet
with
B) shots of tequila
in
C) Mexico
Now you're interested, right?! Thank goodness for YouTube...
Americano!
Nada (old Refreshments song)
Green & Dumb (a personal favorite)
Here, check out their website at azpeacemakers.com.
If you have the pleasure of going to a Roger Clyne show, you need to. Everyone that we've taken has become very passionate about this band. Luckily, they tour Colorado often.
Or how about a new favorite band, Grace Potter & the Nocturnals. Kendall and I first saw these guys play two summers ago with a crowd of 20 people in a little dive bar here in Fort Collins call Hodi's Half Note. With their latest release, they have seemingly shunned the unwashed hippy look of their "jammy" upbringing and have thrown themselves into a world of glitz, glammer, and VHI Divas. I really hate that this band is letting themselves be corrupted by the marketing gurus who want to bring their music to the masses because in the end, you don't need to hide talent behind makeup and big hair. And frankly, this band has talent and is absolutely amazing to watch live. Save the big hair and flashy makeup for the teeny bopper pop "musicians" who get their 15 minutes in the revolving door of pop culture. I think Grace and her crew deserves to be in the spotlight, so please do me a favor- if you're going to buy a Grace Potter CD, please get Nothing But the Water in addition to their most recent album.
If you were to listen to Grace Potter & the Nocturnals, you should expect:
A)a little bit of Bonnie Raitt
mixed with
A)Jefferson Airplane
with
B)Tina Turner's short skirts
in
C) Paris (in part because it's one of their songs, another part because they are turning on the glitz)
Here's a little tidbit of Grace Potter & the Nocturnals after this past year:
Paris video
And here's what they used to be like:
Treat Me Right
Covering "Cortez the Killer" at the Jammys
I've recently been taken in by the soul revival of Fitz & the Tantrums. While I haven't seen them live, I really enjoy the fact that they are bringing back the old fashioned Motown sound. I'm sure Berry Gordy, even in his old age, rocks out to Moneygrabber, which is by far the best song on the album.
When I listen to Fitz & the Tantrums, I hear a blend of:
A) The Temptations
and
A)Kanye West fueled lyrics
with
B)Aquanet (I think both Fitz and Noele use a bit much)
in
C)a seedy little nightclub, probably in Atlanta, GA
Here's a little listen:
Moneygrabber Video
And finally, Kendall's favorite band, the Flaming Lips.
Oh- how do you describe the Flaming Lips? We've discussed this many times in our home, as even our roommate Amanda did not know the Flaming Lips up until recently (OH THE SHAME OF IT! In Kendall's own household!) This is what we've finally settle on:
A)Pink Floyd
with, most recently, an influence of
A)Miles Davis
with
B) an alien spaceship
hovering over
C)Pee Wee's Playhouse
Also in contention for B) was fuzzy bunnies and for C) the North Pole. If you've ever seen a Flaming Lips show, you would understand.
For your viewing pleasure:
Do you Realize (performed at the Oklahoma City Zoo)
Covering "Seven Nation Army"
In closing, I hope that I did Kendall and his fellow music snob friends justice in this blog. Everyone else, I hope that I provided a little bit of entertainment and hopefully turned you on to something new. If anything, consider this your warning for if you ever get pulled into this musical game we play. It helps if you've taken the History of Rock & Roll at Iowa State. If not, I'm sure Kendall could lend you his textbook or give you a personal refresher course.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Worlds Apart: A memorial for a good friend
There is a spot off of the Harmony Corridor that, as of Saturday, if I drive by in the future, I will hurt. It's the spot that I pulled over to cry after Kendall called me to let me know that our good friend Nkosinathi Manana had passed away on Saint Patrick's day.
Nathi was one of the first friends that we made here in Colorado. A fellow grad student in the civil engineering department, Kendall and Nathi both began their career at CSU the fall of 2008 and were assigned the same office space. A quick comradeship began between the two of them, as Kendall (always the teacher) saw an opportunity to teach his new South African friend about everything American... or really, the only thing that matters in America in the fall- college football.
So Nathi joined us almost every Saturday, learning about football as Kendall showed him, demoing the positions, past plays, and theories with anything that was around including (but was never limited to) paper, chips and salsa, the dogs, and beer cans. Nathi would watch, shuddering, tisking and whistling in disbelief whenever there was a tackle. "These guys are crazy, man. You Americans are just crazy for liking a sport that hurts people." he would tell us in his soft spoken, awed voice.
On Fridays after work, I would meet Nathi and Kendall at a local bicycle bar called Road 34. It always took place after their Productivity Meetings. It took me several months before I was finally let in on the joke that the "Productivity Meetings" were really just a few of their friends from grad school getting beers at the bar on campus in the middle of the day to talk about what happened that week in classes, with their research, and other non-related issues. Until the confession, I always wondered why something that sounded so serious as a "Productivity Meeting" led these two to be so goofy.
To say that Kendall took Nathi under his wing would be an understatement. Kendall made sure that Nathi was experiencing the best of Colorado, and often provided guidance as to what the appropriate dress should be when experiencing the best of Colorado. Camping trips and brewery tours were among Nathi's favorites, even when it was freezing cold according to Nathi (or 50 degrees according the the thermostat). I believe that we gave very good advice on how to shop for a winter coat- Nathi wore it almost 6 months of the year.
And while Kendall taught Nathi many things, I also know that he shared many foreign things with us. It was good for me to have a friend with worldly experiences. Nathi was born in Swaziland (a land locked country in South Africa) and had gone to England to study for his undergraduate degree. I never did hear why he choose Colorado State for his masters, other than that he wanted to learn about irrigation systems which would be very valuable when searching for a job back in Swaziland.
I loved to hear Nathi talk about Africa. It amazed me how different a world it seemed, and yet Nathi would just wave his hand and dismiss the differences without any thought. I remember a Saturday (post football) sitting on the couch with Nathi and our dog Layla, flipping through the channels. I landed on the Animal Planets "Africa's Most Deadly". As the announcer described the number of deaths and dangers that crocodiles posed along Africa's major rivers, Nathi tisked and threw his hands up in disgust. "Yes, yes!" he told me, "But everyone knows that a crocodile must swim down river first and if you have a dog with you, it will always try to capture the dog over you." I hugged Layla a little bit and thought,"Not everyone knew that. But I do now."
Nathi was a great sport, and although could be a bit timid, always let us talk him into things. We introduced him to kickball, telling him that his love of soccer would be all he would need to succeed. Turns out that we were wrong; he also needed to know a little bit about baseball- like after you kick the ball, you need to run around the bases. Embarrassing? Maybe a little bit, but Nathi didn't let it seem so. His laugh at his mistake was the loudest out of everyone's on the team.
When I was planning Kendall's 30th birthday tailgate for the Iowa State/Nebraska game this past fall, Nathi was one of the first ones that I called. "I'm very excited about this, Katy." he told me "I can't wait to see Iowa State and see them play these Cornhuskers." So he was thrown into a car with three other friends for a virgin road trip across the Midwest to surprise Kendall. Although I did not hear it myself, while driving through Nebraska on I-80, Nathi was said to have told his fellow passengers, "It's like looking out the window of a plane during an international flight over the ocean. You can look out the window if you want to, but it all looks the same hour after hour, so why bother." Dry humor at it's best.
That car ride was the worst part of the trip for Nathi. His smile was 10 miles wide for the tailgate and football game. He kept thanking me for inviting him, but I had to tell him to stop. That it was his presence that was part of the gift for Kendall. That memory of that weekend and the fact that Nathi was in every picture, it means so much now, more than ever.
Nathi left Fort Collins in December. On the eve of his departure, we threw a party at a bowling alley and gave him a snow globe to take with him. "No one in Swaziland will understand this. It will give me a chance to tell stories about all of you and how cold it is here," he told us.
As I gave him a hug, he told me goodbye. I made it a point to tell him that this was not goodbye, that Kendall and I planned to come visit him some day in Swaziland. He laughed, showing that big, white grin of his and nodded. "Yes, Katy. You should come. You are always welcomed and I look forward to that day."
I have given a poem entitled "Bits and Pieces" as a parting gift on many occasions that I've said goodbye to friends who I am not sure when our paths will cross again. It's a poem that speaks about how people come in and out of your life and how each person leaves a mark. It talks of God's master plan, and how all we can do is to pray to understand and "to accept the bits and pieces in humility and wonder, and never question and never regret." I can not remember if I shared this with Nathi at his departure; but because I don't remember, I don't think I did. I must have been convinced that I would see him again, regardless of how many worlds apart he may have seemed to be.
I have this poem by my desk, as a silent reminder of all the people who have touched my life. Today, it is staring me down, screaming at me that I should be grateful for the times that I shared with our friend. But today, as I did yesterday as I watched Kendall call mutual friends to break the news, I feel cheated. It has taken two days, my tears have long since dried, but I feel like I am now just beginning to let the news settle within me to where it feels like this might actually be real.
And, although it hurts today to even think about it, I do believe in God's master plan. I'm not sure why God decided to give Nathi an ulcer, unbeknown to everyone close to him and severe enough to lead to death. I'm not sure why, but I am slowly learning in this life that it is not worth my time to question why or to doubt. It is better worth my time to remember and to understand that I was given a gift - I did have the time with Nathi, that I got to experience such a genuine laugh and smile.
Oh Nathi... the worlds that hold us apart now seem much more final. I need to remind myself that is only the case only if I let it. You are missed, my friend, but you will be remembered.
Nathi was one of the first friends that we made here in Colorado. A fellow grad student in the civil engineering department, Kendall and Nathi both began their career at CSU the fall of 2008 and were assigned the same office space. A quick comradeship began between the two of them, as Kendall (always the teacher) saw an opportunity to teach his new South African friend about everything American... or really, the only thing that matters in America in the fall- college football.
So Nathi joined us almost every Saturday, learning about football as Kendall showed him, demoing the positions, past plays, and theories with anything that was around including (but was never limited to) paper, chips and salsa, the dogs, and beer cans. Nathi would watch, shuddering, tisking and whistling in disbelief whenever there was a tackle. "These guys are crazy, man. You Americans are just crazy for liking a sport that hurts people." he would tell us in his soft spoken, awed voice.
On Fridays after work, I would meet Nathi and Kendall at a local bicycle bar called Road 34. It always took place after their Productivity Meetings. It took me several months before I was finally let in on the joke that the "Productivity Meetings" were really just a few of their friends from grad school getting beers at the bar on campus in the middle of the day to talk about what happened that week in classes, with their research, and other non-related issues. Until the confession, I always wondered why something that sounded so serious as a "Productivity Meeting" led these two to be so goofy.
To say that Kendall took Nathi under his wing would be an understatement. Kendall made sure that Nathi was experiencing the best of Colorado, and often provided guidance as to what the appropriate dress should be when experiencing the best of Colorado. Camping trips and brewery tours were among Nathi's favorites, even when it was freezing cold according to Nathi (or 50 degrees according the the thermostat). I believe that we gave very good advice on how to shop for a winter coat- Nathi wore it almost 6 months of the year.
And while Kendall taught Nathi many things, I also know that he shared many foreign things with us. It was good for me to have a friend with worldly experiences. Nathi was born in Swaziland (a land locked country in South Africa) and had gone to England to study for his undergraduate degree. I never did hear why he choose Colorado State for his masters, other than that he wanted to learn about irrigation systems which would be very valuable when searching for a job back in Swaziland.
I loved to hear Nathi talk about Africa. It amazed me how different a world it seemed, and yet Nathi would just wave his hand and dismiss the differences without any thought. I remember a Saturday (post football) sitting on the couch with Nathi and our dog Layla, flipping through the channels. I landed on the Animal Planets "Africa's Most Deadly". As the announcer described the number of deaths and dangers that crocodiles posed along Africa's major rivers, Nathi tisked and threw his hands up in disgust. "Yes, yes!" he told me, "But everyone knows that a crocodile must swim down river first and if you have a dog with you, it will always try to capture the dog over you." I hugged Layla a little bit and thought,"Not everyone knew that. But I do now."
Nathi was a great sport, and although could be a bit timid, always let us talk him into things. We introduced him to kickball, telling him that his love of soccer would be all he would need to succeed. Turns out that we were wrong; he also needed to know a little bit about baseball- like after you kick the ball, you need to run around the bases. Embarrassing? Maybe a little bit, but Nathi didn't let it seem so. His laugh at his mistake was the loudest out of everyone's on the team.
When I was planning Kendall's 30th birthday tailgate for the Iowa State/Nebraska game this past fall, Nathi was one of the first ones that I called. "I'm very excited about this, Katy." he told me "I can't wait to see Iowa State and see them play these Cornhuskers." So he was thrown into a car with three other friends for a virgin road trip across the Midwest to surprise Kendall. Although I did not hear it myself, while driving through Nebraska on I-80, Nathi was said to have told his fellow passengers, "It's like looking out the window of a plane during an international flight over the ocean. You can look out the window if you want to, but it all looks the same hour after hour, so why bother." Dry humor at it's best.
That car ride was the worst part of the trip for Nathi. His smile was 10 miles wide for the tailgate and football game. He kept thanking me for inviting him, but I had to tell him to stop. That it was his presence that was part of the gift for Kendall. That memory of that weekend and the fact that Nathi was in every picture, it means so much now, more than ever.
Nathi left Fort Collins in December. On the eve of his departure, we threw a party at a bowling alley and gave him a snow globe to take with him. "No one in Swaziland will understand this. It will give me a chance to tell stories about all of you and how cold it is here," he told us.
As I gave him a hug, he told me goodbye. I made it a point to tell him that this was not goodbye, that Kendall and I planned to come visit him some day in Swaziland. He laughed, showing that big, white grin of his and nodded. "Yes, Katy. You should come. You are always welcomed and I look forward to that day."
I have given a poem entitled "Bits and Pieces" as a parting gift on many occasions that I've said goodbye to friends who I am not sure when our paths will cross again. It's a poem that speaks about how people come in and out of your life and how each person leaves a mark. It talks of God's master plan, and how all we can do is to pray to understand and "to accept the bits and pieces in humility and wonder, and never question and never regret." I can not remember if I shared this with Nathi at his departure; but because I don't remember, I don't think I did. I must have been convinced that I would see him again, regardless of how many worlds apart he may have seemed to be.
I have this poem by my desk, as a silent reminder of all the people who have touched my life. Today, it is staring me down, screaming at me that I should be grateful for the times that I shared with our friend. But today, as I did yesterday as I watched Kendall call mutual friends to break the news, I feel cheated. It has taken two days, my tears have long since dried, but I feel like I am now just beginning to let the news settle within me to where it feels like this might actually be real.
And, although it hurts today to even think about it, I do believe in God's master plan. I'm not sure why God decided to give Nathi an ulcer, unbeknown to everyone close to him and severe enough to lead to death. I'm not sure why, but I am slowly learning in this life that it is not worth my time to question why or to doubt. It is better worth my time to remember and to understand that I was given a gift - I did have the time with Nathi, that I got to experience such a genuine laugh and smile.
Oh Nathi... the worlds that hold us apart now seem much more final. I need to remind myself that is only the case only if I let it. You are missed, my friend, but you will be remembered.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
A Subpar Blog for Spring Break (Subpar) Snowboarders & Skiers
Ah... it's spring break here in Fort Collins. The college students have left the campus to retreat to some paradise found via a road trip, the public schools have released their students into the care of their parents, leaving Fort Collins and my office void of noise and chaos. It is quiet and relaxing and quite frankly, I'm pretty much bored because I've gone through what I thought was a very aggressive to-do list already and am not sure what I should create as a new task.
So I blog. But I must warn you, with being bored comes lazy thoughts and rants that are probably less than entertaining. While I do love your commitment to my life, I would recommend that you get out now and spend your time elsewhere.
Yes, the noise and chaos has left this deserted town and been displaced to the higher altitudes of Summit County's ski resorts. Kendall and I got to experience this first hand as we spent both Saturday and Sunday with friends and family who came out for their own spring break. It is easy to say that most of the college students on the slopes were not Coloradoans doing the cheap, local vacation thing. I'm guessing most of CSU and CU students flew South, to escape their everyday view of what has become to seem like mundane mountains. Or, more likely, to escape the hoards of spring breakers who do not know their mountain manners.
I shouldn't complain. My favorite spring break trip during college was spent here in Colorado in 2003, drink in hand as I tore up the slopes with six friends and three feet of fresh powder that trapped us on the right side of the Eisenhower tunnel. I can understand where these college kids are coming from, I was very much one of them. Last I knew, my buddy Luther still had the sign that says "No cleaning of water fowl in the bathtub." that we stole from the motel that we had to stay in when his car broke down unexpectedly at the Colorado/Nebraska state border. I believe that he has it hanging in his bathroom in New York City.
But now, I would consider myself a Coloradoan. And as a Coloradoan, I get just a little annoyed when I only get 6 runs in on a powder day because the slopes are filled with people who are spending more time on their butts because A) they decided that this was the perfect time and place to learn how to ski/snowboard OR B) they're too drunk because it's spring break and they think it's AWESOME that you get drunk quicker at higher altitudes ("but I can still drink 10 beers, man!").
There are things that I do enjoy about the spring break crowd. The music blaring from cars in the parking lot is pretty awesome most of the time and sometimes you pick up the name of a new group to check out. You can always run into a student who goes to Iowa State and they always, always stroke your ego a little bit by telling you repeatedly that they are envious that you live here. Everyone is tailgating when they get back to their car and you find a lot more people willing to share a beer if you strike up a conversation. Almost everyone is happy, because they aren't at school. The only ones who aren't are the ones who are terribly sore or terribly hungover, and you can't carry on a conversation with those people anyway.
So maybe, if you're still reading, you'll pass these little tidbits of information on to any spring breakers heading my way so that my annoyance is minimized and I, and my fellow Coloradoans, can focus on enjoying all the joys of spring break as listed above, rather than run for the hills to start hiking during this beautiful weather.
*When you drive out and back on I-70, do not speed up and then slam on your breaks when you come to a turn. You are the one who's driving is causing the back up traffic. Keep a steady, slow pace that you are entirely comfortable with, downshift into lower gears when going down steep grades, and no, your breaks are (most likely) not going out so don't yell it out at your passengers.
* If you've never skied or snowboarded before, fork out the cash and take a lesson. You're buddy who last skied five years ago is not a suitable substitute and it will well be worth your money to actually learn proper technique so you don't kill the rest of us.
*Pay attention to where you stop. Do not stop just over a rolling hill. If you do, it will be a matter of moments before someone comes flying over and either runs into you or runs into someone else trying to avoid you.
*If you're going to cut close to someone (especially on the backside of a snowboarder), let them know by yelling "On your right" or "On your blind side" or something like that. If you don't let them know, you shouldn't be pissed if they cut over into your path. My peripheral vision isn't good, man, I couldn't see you so I didn't know you were there. Not my bad.
*Drinking while skiing/snowboard is ok- just don't get wasted. I almost snowboarded through someone's vomit on Sunday. Gross and unnecessary. This isn't Cabo.
*Realize that there are kids around and they may even be on the lift with you. It's ok to teach a 6 year old boy how to spit a lugie, it is not ok to describe your spring break sexual escapades in detail to your buddy in front of the same 6 year old. Imagine being the parent who has to explain that on the 3 hour drive home.
*It's cold here. Or really, it could be cold here. You're in the mountains in Colorado. Don't believe that you could actually see ski bunnies wearing bikini tops. That doesn't happen until May. Bring layers of clothing and check the weather report before you go out that day.
*Don't bitch about how expensive everything is on the mountain. They are resorts and that is their job to try to make money. If you're trying to do the cheap spring break thing, do like the rest of us and pack a sandwich, granola bar, or instant Macaroni and Cheese.
*If it's your first time on the mountain and you're not having fun because you're falling down all the time, try it more than one day before you give up and complain to every stranger who will listen (aka me) and the rest of your group for the entire spring break. Don't be that guy. Because if you are that guy, you suck and you will be talked about when you return.
*Take a map of the mountain when the staff offers it to you. Do not expect to know what direction is North all the time because you have a great sense of direction. I guarantee that you are wrong. You're in the mountains.
*Play nice with the locals and tip well. Ok- this is more of the hospitality thing coming out of me, but the hourly employees working at resorts do not make tons of money and the cost of living is pretty high. And for those of you who don't know, you should tip based on percentage of bill not just $5. And if you sit there for 2 hours after you finished your meal, throw in a little extra for taking up their table when they could have been making more money.
*Try the beer (and I don't just mean Coors Light). Colorado has amazing breweries and you should take this chance to try something and be open to something different. Don't be afraid to ask for suggestions. Most of us know how to find something close to what you will like if you give us ideas outside of saying "I like bud light and miller light and coors light sometimes."
So, if you all do your part and let all of your college-age friends know these little tidbits (because I know you all have soooooo many college-aged friends right now), I will return to the mountain this weekend. And I promise that I will yell out "SPRING BREAK!!!" with the best of them.
So I blog. But I must warn you, with being bored comes lazy thoughts and rants that are probably less than entertaining. While I do love your commitment to my life, I would recommend that you get out now and spend your time elsewhere.
Yes, the noise and chaos has left this deserted town and been displaced to the higher altitudes of Summit County's ski resorts. Kendall and I got to experience this first hand as we spent both Saturday and Sunday with friends and family who came out for their own spring break. It is easy to say that most of the college students on the slopes were not Coloradoans doing the cheap, local vacation thing. I'm guessing most of CSU and CU students flew South, to escape their everyday view of what has become to seem like mundane mountains. Or, more likely, to escape the hoards of spring breakers who do not know their mountain manners.
I shouldn't complain. My favorite spring break trip during college was spent here in Colorado in 2003, drink in hand as I tore up the slopes with six friends and three feet of fresh powder that trapped us on the right side of the Eisenhower tunnel. I can understand where these college kids are coming from, I was very much one of them. Last I knew, my buddy Luther still had the sign that says "No cleaning of water fowl in the bathtub." that we stole from the motel that we had to stay in when his car broke down unexpectedly at the Colorado/Nebraska state border. I believe that he has it hanging in his bathroom in New York City.
But now, I would consider myself a Coloradoan. And as a Coloradoan, I get just a little annoyed when I only get 6 runs in on a powder day because the slopes are filled with people who are spending more time on their butts because A) they decided that this was the perfect time and place to learn how to ski/snowboard OR B) they're too drunk because it's spring break and they think it's AWESOME that you get drunk quicker at higher altitudes ("but I can still drink 10 beers, man!").
There are things that I do enjoy about the spring break crowd. The music blaring from cars in the parking lot is pretty awesome most of the time and sometimes you pick up the name of a new group to check out. You can always run into a student who goes to Iowa State and they always, always stroke your ego a little bit by telling you repeatedly that they are envious that you live here. Everyone is tailgating when they get back to their car and you find a lot more people willing to share a beer if you strike up a conversation. Almost everyone is happy, because they aren't at school. The only ones who aren't are the ones who are terribly sore or terribly hungover, and you can't carry on a conversation with those people anyway.
So maybe, if you're still reading, you'll pass these little tidbits of information on to any spring breakers heading my way so that my annoyance is minimized and I, and my fellow Coloradoans, can focus on enjoying all the joys of spring break as listed above, rather than run for the hills to start hiking during this beautiful weather.
*When you drive out and back on I-70, do not speed up and then slam on your breaks when you come to a turn. You are the one who's driving is causing the back up traffic. Keep a steady, slow pace that you are entirely comfortable with, downshift into lower gears when going down steep grades, and no, your breaks are (most likely) not going out so don't yell it out at your passengers.
* If you've never skied or snowboarded before, fork out the cash and take a lesson. You're buddy who last skied five years ago is not a suitable substitute and it will well be worth your money to actually learn proper technique so you don't kill the rest of us.
*Pay attention to where you stop. Do not stop just over a rolling hill. If you do, it will be a matter of moments before someone comes flying over and either runs into you or runs into someone else trying to avoid you.
*If you're going to cut close to someone (especially on the backside of a snowboarder), let them know by yelling "On your right" or "On your blind side" or something like that. If you don't let them know, you shouldn't be pissed if they cut over into your path. My peripheral vision isn't good, man, I couldn't see you so I didn't know you were there. Not my bad.
*Drinking while skiing/snowboard is ok- just don't get wasted. I almost snowboarded through someone's vomit on Sunday. Gross and unnecessary. This isn't Cabo.
*Realize that there are kids around and they may even be on the lift with you. It's ok to teach a 6 year old boy how to spit a lugie, it is not ok to describe your spring break sexual escapades in detail to your buddy in front of the same 6 year old. Imagine being the parent who has to explain that on the 3 hour drive home.
*It's cold here. Or really, it could be cold here. You're in the mountains in Colorado. Don't believe that you could actually see ski bunnies wearing bikini tops. That doesn't happen until May. Bring layers of clothing and check the weather report before you go out that day.
*Don't bitch about how expensive everything is on the mountain. They are resorts and that is their job to try to make money. If you're trying to do the cheap spring break thing, do like the rest of us and pack a sandwich, granola bar, or instant Macaroni and Cheese.
*If it's your first time on the mountain and you're not having fun because you're falling down all the time, try it more than one day before you give up and complain to every stranger who will listen (aka me) and the rest of your group for the entire spring break. Don't be that guy. Because if you are that guy, you suck and you will be talked about when you return.
*Take a map of the mountain when the staff offers it to you. Do not expect to know what direction is North all the time because you have a great sense of direction. I guarantee that you are wrong. You're in the mountains.
*Play nice with the locals and tip well. Ok- this is more of the hospitality thing coming out of me, but the hourly employees working at resorts do not make tons of money and the cost of living is pretty high. And for those of you who don't know, you should tip based on percentage of bill not just $5. And if you sit there for 2 hours after you finished your meal, throw in a little extra for taking up their table when they could have been making more money.
*Try the beer (and I don't just mean Coors Light). Colorado has amazing breweries and you should take this chance to try something and be open to something different. Don't be afraid to ask for suggestions. Most of us know how to find something close to what you will like if you give us ideas outside of saying "I like bud light and miller light and coors light sometimes."
So, if you all do your part and let all of your college-age friends know these little tidbits (because I know you all have soooooo many college-aged friends right now), I will return to the mountain this weekend. And I promise that I will yell out "SPRING BREAK!!!" with the best of them.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Windows Rolled Down
One of my favorite musical artists for the past five years has been Amos Lee. He has a new album out, entitled "Mission Bell". I heard the first single, "Windows Rolled Down" on the way to work yesterday, and although I had heard the song several times since it was released about a month ago, yesterday may have been the first time that my mind was empty enough to allow the lyrics to sink in and settle.
Simple and poignant, as I have come to expect Amos to write, this lyric caught me as I was humming along, sending my thoughts spinning down a very familiar road:
"Corn rows have a companion feel to this rocky road and this steering wheel with the windows rolled down and moon hanging low."
I know I was driving in the explorer down LeMay, but my heart thud and I was taken back to my summers spent in the dusty gravel parking lot of North Linn High School.
For those of you who didn't have the pleasure to attend North Linn, it is a high school that was literally placed in the middle of corn fields. The central campus contains the high school and middle school skirted by an enormous gravel parking lot, football, baseball, and softball fields, the later of which I spent five summers cultivating skills that would take me much further than glove work.
There were seven of us in my class that were, for a long time, thrown into varsity before we were necessarily ready because we were the best that the coach had at the time. Crouched under the lights during those humid summer nights, frustration and tears felt in our early seasons as freshman and sophomores eventually gave way to determination, perseverance, practical jokes, sisterhood, and winning seasons our junior and senior years. And regardless of a win or loss, I always seemed to end up spend the hours after each game watching the moon rise while talking to friends, perched against my teal '94 grand am, with the window rolled down and my radio playing a mixed soundtrack of classic and then current rock. Songs by Jimi, Red Hot Chili Peppers, the Doors, Guns-n-Roses, the Nixons, Smashing Pumpkins, Incubus, the Cure, Bush... these are the songs I've come to expect that, when heard now, take me on a three minute vacation back to that place of dust, heat, laughter, simplicity, and sweat soaked blond curls drying against my neck and back. I don't think that I've ever had one, simple lyric, completely unrelated to the vault of memories, bring such a flood of raw feeling.
A feeling that I was unable to shake all day. Perhaps it was the fact that my ten year reunion is around the corner, so these memories are running rapid on facebook pages. Perhaps it was the fact that I have been playing phone tag with a best friend, also a member of that squad of seven, from high school for over a month and a half, unable to touch base. Perhaps it was the fact that its March now, softball season in Iowa is just around the corner and this would have been the time of year that I would have been dusting off my glove and cleats, freshly retrieved from the depths of our basement. Perhaps it was that it was Wednesday and one of the parents in the waiting room was a high school baseball coach who gave me a run down on how the first week of practice went with his team (a team that is composed of virtually all Freshmen). Or the fact that it is March and our co-ed kickball league will be starting soon- a recreational activity that returns me to the pitchers mound, only this time fueled with beer rather than gateraid. I was wearing the nostalgia like a sweater that has become too hot to wear, with nothing but work to distract me. I kept thinking about it, dwelling on it, itching to retreat, but couldn't seem to get out of it because there wasn't anything appropriate to replace it.
I typed the word nostalgia in Word just now to check my spelling. I also searched the thesaurus, as I often do now-a-days (studying for the GRE can take many different forms) curious as to what may come up. The first word chosen has taken me a bit by surprise.
Homesickness.
This was followed by what I would consider more aptly chosen words to describe nostalgia, and even what I was feeling as I let the memories roll me over- reminiscence, wistfulness, longing, and melancholy.
I would not say that I am homesick. I love being here in Colorado and all that it has brought into my life. I very much doubt that I will ever return to Iowa, outside of trips to visit friends and family. But the older I get, the more I have come to appreciate the 23 years that I spent in the state. And I fondly remember summers, a favorite season, with such a stark contrast between the season in Colorado to those in Iowa. Sticky, humid heat that spiraled my hair. Days upon days full of rain. The vibrant color green that comes with fresh, healthy growth painted across low, rolling hills. Sunsets that lasted forever, because the sun did not have anything to hide behind. The content, companion feel of driving along a gravel road, etched through corn fields, with the window rolled down and a sweet breeze whispering to you. These are things that don't exist here in the mountains, even with the same windows rolled down. They are the things that brought me to this place, added to who I am as a person, and taught me to appreciate simplicity.
I am sure that Amos Lee could write beautiful lyrics about the overstated, rocky craigs found here in Colorado. However, the more I think about it, the more I am moved by the lyric, I am choosing to think that he was speaking about an afternoon drive through Iowa. I'm not sure that he has the memories tied to the state that I do, but I appreciate his ability to make my own rise with one simple lyric on an everyday drive to work. It's also making me realize that maybe it's time to schedule a time to visit home (because it will always be home, whether I live there or not). But that can also probably wait until the aforementioned 10 year reunion.
Simple and poignant, as I have come to expect Amos to write, this lyric caught me as I was humming along, sending my thoughts spinning down a very familiar road:
"Corn rows have a companion feel to this rocky road and this steering wheel with the windows rolled down and moon hanging low."
I know I was driving in the explorer down LeMay, but my heart thud and I was taken back to my summers spent in the dusty gravel parking lot of North Linn High School.
For those of you who didn't have the pleasure to attend North Linn, it is a high school that was literally placed in the middle of corn fields. The central campus contains the high school and middle school skirted by an enormous gravel parking lot, football, baseball, and softball fields, the later of which I spent five summers cultivating skills that would take me much further than glove work.
There were seven of us in my class that were, for a long time, thrown into varsity before we were necessarily ready because we were the best that the coach had at the time. Crouched under the lights during those humid summer nights, frustration and tears felt in our early seasons as freshman and sophomores eventually gave way to determination, perseverance, practical jokes, sisterhood, and winning seasons our junior and senior years. And regardless of a win or loss, I always seemed to end up spend the hours after each game watching the moon rise while talking to friends, perched against my teal '94 grand am, with the window rolled down and my radio playing a mixed soundtrack of classic and then current rock. Songs by Jimi, Red Hot Chili Peppers, the Doors, Guns-n-Roses, the Nixons, Smashing Pumpkins, Incubus, the Cure, Bush... these are the songs I've come to expect that, when heard now, take me on a three minute vacation back to that place of dust, heat, laughter, simplicity, and sweat soaked blond curls drying against my neck and back. I don't think that I've ever had one, simple lyric, completely unrelated to the vault of memories, bring such a flood of raw feeling.
A feeling that I was unable to shake all day. Perhaps it was the fact that my ten year reunion is around the corner, so these memories are running rapid on facebook pages. Perhaps it was the fact that I have been playing phone tag with a best friend, also a member of that squad of seven, from high school for over a month and a half, unable to touch base. Perhaps it was the fact that its March now, softball season in Iowa is just around the corner and this would have been the time of year that I would have been dusting off my glove and cleats, freshly retrieved from the depths of our basement. Perhaps it was that it was Wednesday and one of the parents in the waiting room was a high school baseball coach who gave me a run down on how the first week of practice went with his team (a team that is composed of virtually all Freshmen). Or the fact that it is March and our co-ed kickball league will be starting soon- a recreational activity that returns me to the pitchers mound, only this time fueled with beer rather than gateraid. I was wearing the nostalgia like a sweater that has become too hot to wear, with nothing but work to distract me. I kept thinking about it, dwelling on it, itching to retreat, but couldn't seem to get out of it because there wasn't anything appropriate to replace it.
I typed the word nostalgia in Word just now to check my spelling. I also searched the thesaurus, as I often do now-a-days (studying for the GRE can take many different forms) curious as to what may come up. The first word chosen has taken me a bit by surprise.
Homesickness.
This was followed by what I would consider more aptly chosen words to describe nostalgia, and even what I was feeling as I let the memories roll me over- reminiscence, wistfulness, longing, and melancholy.
I would not say that I am homesick. I love being here in Colorado and all that it has brought into my life. I very much doubt that I will ever return to Iowa, outside of trips to visit friends and family. But the older I get, the more I have come to appreciate the 23 years that I spent in the state. And I fondly remember summers, a favorite season, with such a stark contrast between the season in Colorado to those in Iowa. Sticky, humid heat that spiraled my hair. Days upon days full of rain. The vibrant color green that comes with fresh, healthy growth painted across low, rolling hills. Sunsets that lasted forever, because the sun did not have anything to hide behind. The content, companion feel of driving along a gravel road, etched through corn fields, with the window rolled down and a sweet breeze whispering to you. These are things that don't exist here in the mountains, even with the same windows rolled down. They are the things that brought me to this place, added to who I am as a person, and taught me to appreciate simplicity.
I am sure that Amos Lee could write beautiful lyrics about the overstated, rocky craigs found here in Colorado. However, the more I think about it, the more I am moved by the lyric, I am choosing to think that he was speaking about an afternoon drive through Iowa. I'm not sure that he has the memories tied to the state that I do, but I appreciate his ability to make my own rise with one simple lyric on an everyday drive to work. It's also making me realize that maybe it's time to schedule a time to visit home (because it will always be home, whether I live there or not). But that can also probably wait until the aforementioned 10 year reunion.
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