As I write this, I'm watching the snow accumulate outside my office window. I'm dreading tomorrow when I'll have to shovel my sidewalk with my bum hip that needs to be replaced. I may wait until Monday--after all, it's supposed to snow tomorrow as well, so what would be the point?
I
miss my youth when I could look at snow falling and not think, "Man, I
have to drive to work in this shit." Many years ago, I was at work
watching it come down and dreading the commute home when I suddenly
remembered being younger. There's an inherent beauty to snow that kids
(and I define "kids" as anyone under the age of 25) seem to understand
more than adults, whether they realize it or not. It is nothing if not
photogenic. After all, freshly fallen snow has been the subject of many
paintings and song lyrics over the centuries--I even have a painting of
it hanging in my home. Kids get that--they look forward to snow days
and building snowpeople and sledding and making snow angels. Adults
dread cleaning it up and trying to get through it.
When
I was in college, I used to go out in the snow and dance to what I
considered "romantic" music. I even used to ask every pretty young
woman I saw if she wanted to join me. Only one ever took me up on it. I
remember slow dancing with her in the snow outside Schmidt and Wilson
Halls on the campus of Ball State to the music of Jimmy Durante which we
could barely hear through my headphones. It's one of my more indelible
college memories and always makes me smile when I think about it. It
was such a sweet moment in hindsight--the one woman brave enough to
dance with the crazy goofball in the snow in the middle of a Muncie
winter. I just feel awful that I don't remember her name.
Anyway...
where was I? Oh, yes, I was at work some winters back, watching snow
accumulate, and not wanting to drive home in that shit. Suddenly all
those memories of days home from school and Jimmy Durante music came
back to me. I wanted nothing more than to go home, have a cup of tea,
and watch it fall. And when my shift ended, I did just that. I made a
cup of tea and sat outside listening to Florence + The Machine's MTV Unplugged album.
That live performance of "Dog Days Are Over" combined with the snow
falling literally had tears streaming down my face. I've described the
moment as a religious experience. I sometimes worry that someone
slipped something in my tea other than the lemon and honey that I
normally put in it. (And I know I've written this all before, so I
apologize to those who have read it and/or heard me tell it many times
in the past.)
After
I had the (adult) presence of mind to come back inside, I did what I
think I do best. I made a playlist of songs to listen to while watching
it snow. I still play it when the weather's right. If I'm pressed for
time, I might just play the first four songs. If you're so inclined,
and want music by which to watch it snow where you are, I did put it on
Spotify. Weirdly, I didn't think to put any Jimmy Durante on it.
"The
making of a great compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do.
It takes ages longer than it might seem. You gotta kick it off with a
killer--to grab attention. Then you gotta take it up a notch! But you
don't wanna blow your wad. So then you gotta cool it off a notch.
There are a lot of rules."
--John Cusack as Rob Gordon in High Fidelity, 2000
Against
my initial instincts, I decided not to open the mix with "Dog Days Are
Over." Somehow, in the back of my mind, I felt that that was the song
that would "take it up a notch." So the trick was finding that "killer"
opening number. And I found it in the title track to this week's
album.
While
writing this and watching a movie, I perused the rest of the album
while looking out my window (I hadn't listened to it in a long time). I realized that the other songs were also
quite excellent for watching snow fall. So, in fond memory of What's
Her Name, this week, please enjoy Elvis Costello & The Attractions
with their last album together, 1996's All This Useless Beauty.
Until
next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember
that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for
you.
Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!
The Reverend Will the Thrill
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