I didn’t blog yesterday; I have to play catch up. Since you last heard from me I’ve been to two concerts, Alec Spiegelman and Karyn Oliver. On Friday I had therapy and that relates to why I missed a day blogging and why I’m taking a break now for brunch as it’s already 12:11. Now it’s 2:00 and I’m finally getting started.
Timing on Fridays is often awkward. I finished therapy at 3:30 to 3:45 but most often miss the 3:51 train so I don’t get into Manhattan until 5:10. It isn’t worth it to stop at home first as I wouldn’t get there any sooner as I have a 25-minute walk from the train. That does leave me a lot of time to kill before I do whatever I’m doing in The City or Brooklyn. I try to make it constructive, so I went to Trader Joe’s then had a sit-down dinner at the Park Slope Diner. Even then I got to Barbès, Where Alec was playing, half an hour early. Turns out that most people were early, so I ended up in my usual seat, the first-row house left. I didn’t want to sit there but the seats I wanted were already taken. The front row at Barbès would be on stage at other venues. This is essential listening from both an artistic and informational point of view.
Alec’s show was centered around his new EP, Songs for People That Read the News. These songs are in the spirit of Tom Paxton’s “short shelf-life songs” and Tom Lehrer’s, That Was the Week that Was. Alec doesn’t write like either of them, he’s somewhat closer to Mark Allen Berube, in that they are simultaneously intellectual and silly. To top it off the songs get lengthy introductions worthy of Arlo. Despite all these comparisons, the reality is that Alec is unique. The songs get you laughing and get you thinking. The humor is for the most part dry, but he can’t resist the ridiculous. One song, not from the EP, is about a job he had acting in a movie about the Amish in the town of Bird-in-Hand Pennsylvania. He sings of wanting a Bird-in-Hand-job. Finished groaning? Alec was a physics major and is more evidence for my hypothesis that math/science people like literalist humor. I know I do. He had a band, bass, and drums with him. He announced that he’d do the first song solo then “the three of us will get engaged.” I immediately blurted out, “The three of you are getting married?” He had to admit that he would make the same joke and then refrained from killing me.
I was sad that nobody I knew was in the audience. My clever politically engaged friends, that’s most of you, would have loved it. I wrote John Platt as soon as I got home and suggested he book Alec for John Platt’s On Your Radar. Last we talked there was one opening before Election Day. He’s been in On Your Radar and at the WFUV studio multiple times backing other musicians.
On Saturday I was back in Brooklyn to see Karyn Oliver at First Acoustics. That’s as much of a home game as there is. That’s Coco and Bruce’s house. I wanted to get there early but with my current issues wasn’t. I left myself enough time to arrive just in time but then got delayed by my bodily needs, then by the cats. Then after I left the house I realized I forgot my phone. I arrived midway through the preconcert party. I was looking forward to that as I had so many friends there. This was my crowd; Coco, Bruce, well duh, Karyn and her husband Claude, more duh, Karyn’s bandmates in No Fess and Feathers and their family, Jay, Catherine, Carolann, Mark, and Felix, I’m running out of duh, fellow Chicks with Dip, Katherine and Karen, Fred, Carol, Jeff, Brianna, Dan, Phyllis, Aviv, Bev, Ellen, and the always present, people I’m forgetting. Once again, I sat up front so it’s difficult to get my mental image of where everyone was sitting. That’s how I remember these things.
The show was a double celebration, Karyn’s birthday had a big birthday a few days before, I think it was her sweet 16, and it was a preview of the songs from her forthcoming album, A List of Names. She was accompanied by an excellent guitarist on a telecaster. I was very good and didn’t complain about her going electric. I’m a saint. I even accepted that Brianna did the merch, not me. It just took a few “serenity now” chants. Then I spent the rest of the evening trying to scam her. I did not succeed.
Every time I hear Karyn I picture her on Broadway. It’s not just having a great voice, it’s her expressiveness. She projects the emotions of the songs right into your brain. She soft and makes a pleasant sound but she is not a tribble or an ermine violin. There is a there there
I tore myself away from the post-concert socializing, so I’d have socializing on the train. Fred and Ellen took the Q with me as far as 34th street. The ride on the D I did solo.
I needed an evening like this as my mental health has not been the best. I saw my therapist not my psychiatrist this week but we’re wondering if my meds need adjusting. My anxiety is getting worse and my depression is returning. I have not been sleeping well. I’m finding it very difficult to get anything done. It’s a miracle that Bri and I were able to get the Budgiedome schedule done. I’ve been having invasive thoughts, not of suicide, as I had to quickly reassure my therapist; I have been able to fend them off but it’s a constant effort. You know that scene in Star Wars where Obiwan is training Luke by covering his eyes and having him fend of attacks with his light sabre? That’s how I’m living my life. Sometimes one gets through and I get stung.
Now to add injury to insult my left elbow and shoulder are sore. I suspect a combination of tendonitis and bursitis; the latter happening because of the unnatural movements engendered by the former. My neck and right shoulder are not great too. I’m going to take it easy today and keep them iced. Everyone is worried about a heart attack, but I’ve had these pains before. I can feel exactly where the sore spots are if I probe with my fingers. This is localized joint pain, not referred pain from the heart.
That reminds me of things I forgot to say about therapy. I know both my mind and body well. Unless a condition is totally new I understand what’s up. What’s up with my psyche is convoluted. I have to borrow terminology from Terry Pratchett to explain. He uses “second thoughts” to mean thoughts about thoughts. Third thoughts are thoughts about second thoughts. When talking to my therapist I made my way to fourth thoughts. My brain tries to deceive itself and I’m aware enough to know what’s going on, but I still feel the deceits as if they were reality.
Meditating helps but I’m resisting meditating. The invasive thoughts don’t want to be driven out. My new strategy just invoked last night is to set my alarm for 12:30 AM. That’s when I want to go to sleep. I’m going to try and drop what I’m doing then and go to bed and once there to meditate. I tried last night and delayed only half an hour. That’s better than I’ve been doing. The trick is to establish a habit, once that happens it’s easier. Of course, I leave for Falcon Ridge on Wednesday and 12:30 is when the evening Is just getting started. That’s OK as Falcon Ridge is the best mental health medicine there is.
Now that I wrote this I’ll go watch the Met game. They are winning 1-0, another strong start from Wheeler. I have a bold prediction. He will in the near future be an All-Star. Injuries have consumed his career till now but he’s ready to blossom.
Wise Madness 