Weeknotes: March 31 – April 4, 2025
A sick week last week. Weeknotes had a fever, but it’s on the mend.
Monday, March 31
Q1 ends with a sigh. The flu in February, then Covid in March, family health scares, and the daily horrors of the news. I'm exhausted. But, tomorrow is a new month. My energy is starting to come back, I've got a gig on Wednesday, and I'll be done with classes in just five weeks. After that, Iceland.
Today it's Scott and Amanda's birthday, siblings born seven years apart on the same day. I've been in different bands with each of them dating back to high school. On the turntable, I’ve got the first of two Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty duet albums. I pause work in late morning to test drive an outfit for the Iceland trip. By most accounts, I can expect average Icelandic temperatues in the mid-40s (F) which is the weather in Ypsilanti is today. I've got a good rain jacket I'll use as my outer shell and a zip up fleece for a mid-layer. Islay and I walk for about 45 minutes and I feel comfortable in my layers. But as much as I appreciate the tech gear, I'd be so much happier in my tattered canvas coat and jeans. I'll probably bring them too. Obsessing over what to pack for an adventure is it’s own vocation
Weeknotes: February 24–28, 2025
Monday February 24
I spend the morning listening to Robyn Hitckcock's Eye. I think it’s one of his solo benchmarks and it prompted in me an early appreciation for the merits of an acoustic album. I'm going to Kentucky to hear him play this weekend. I've seen him four other times, but it's been a while. There are few other artists whose careers I've consistently followed and admired for so long.
When I was 15 my brother took me to see Hitchcock with his erstwhile band the Egyptians in Royal Oak. They were at their brief commercial apex, having just stumbled into a minor hit with "So You Think You're in Love" from Perspex Island, an album that, until recently has remained "out of print" in the streaming world. It's not his best (Queen Elvis is my favorite), but it's the point where my adolescent self arrived in his career. I had just begun to pay attention to album credits and I remember noting the producer's name, Paul Fox; he had produced XTC's Oranges & Lemons two years prior. His name came across my radar again in the mid-'90s, helming Semisonic's first LP.
The Egyptians show we saw was in February 1992 and afterward we waited out in the cold behind the theater to ask Robyn for an autograph, which he graciously, if somewhat obscurely, gave. In black marker he inscribed on my ticket stub a capital R with a circle around it. It's still tucked under the CD tray of my copy of Element of Light.
Today, the sun is shining and the snow is melting in rivulets down both sides of the street. I listen to a grim Icelandic detective novel on my headphones. As we walk, Islay insists on hitting every snowbank, examining the dense neighborhood thaw. In the muddy driveway she stands for minutes on end, head cocked, nose gently twitching. Spring must be intense for a dog; such olfactory abundance.
In the evening CC and I rehearse a new song. Between illness, work, and school, I've been playing less often than I'd like and the act of harmonizing with another person feels especially welcome. I expect us to sound a little rusty, but we've played together for long enough now that it all comes together rather quickly.