Weeknotes: July 21–25, 2025
I love it when the teller sends your check for a little ride on the scanner. Watching it loop around the bend is my favorite part of visiting the bank. So many transactions happen invisibly, I think I'm just excited when I see something happen in front of me. Like the satisfying thump of a rubber stamp.
Twenty minutes later I'm at Barnes & Noble buying yet another copy of Ann Leckie's Ancillary Justice for a friend's birthday. I was like this with Becky Chambers' The Long Way To a Small, Angry Planet — every book lover I knew got a copy on their birthday or at Christmas. At the top of the escalator, I take a few hasty steps down, then realize I'd rather enjoy the free ride. The breadth of the store comes into focus around me and I feel some nostalgia for the pre-digital world when a big chain book store felt like the gateway to possibility.
My next stop is less inspiring — Dick's Sporting Goods, another box store in a strip mall. I've been here three times this summer and whenever I walk through the door Aerosmith's "Dream On" is playing. That can't be a coincidence. But why would this gritty 52-year-old rock ballad be a cornerstone of the Dick's playlist? Aren't there other more appropriate jock jams, even within the Aerosmith catalog? What about "Walk This Way" or even "Sweet Emotion." Does "Dream On" sell more tennis rackets?
In Saline I help K hang a couple shelves and we share a pizza. Across the street working in her garden is my old neighbor Kay. She lost her husband in the fall of 2020 while I was still living there. We all loved Doug. He was one of those affable small town neighbors — friendly, helpful, funny, a reliable presence on our street. I still send Kay a Christmas card every year, but haven't talked to her in ages. I walk over and we catch up for a while. She says she's turning 87 on Friday. I make a mental note to send her a birthday card too.
Weeknotes: May 5 – 9, 2025
Monday, May 5
I'm spending another morning with Pink Floyd, this time working on a review for the Live at Pompeii soundtrack that came out last Friday. I re-familiarize myself with some biographical material and stumble upon their early single "Point Me at the Sky." I'd completely forgotten about this song, a fantastic bit of late-'60s psych-pop with shared vocals between David Gilmour and Roger Waters. I loved it when I was young, though it was a rarity that could only be found on bootlegs. I credit Wazoo Records in Ann Arbor with introducing me to the bootleg scene. They had a special cassette section where, if you knew what you were looking for, you could find strange compilations of unreleased live material, non-album tracks, and other oddities from a multitude of artists.
I still have a David Bowie compilation with a photocopied cover that includes a version of him singing "All the Young Dudes," the song he wrote for Mott the Hoople which, incidentally, was the first song I ever learned how to sing and play on guitar. I'd been playing for a couple years by that point, but didn't yet fashion myself a singer. I was about 12 when my guitar teacher, Mike Lutz, taught me how to play "All the Young Dudes," and it was the most complex chord sequence I'd learned to date. I remember feeling a great sense of satisfaction once I'd managed to separate my unformed voice from my strumming which felt like a creative version of patting your head while rubbing your belly. Before that, I assumed I'd be the guitarist in a band with someone else acting as lead singer, as was the custom in most of the hair metal bands I listened to at the time. Being able to handle both was a revelation to me. I can see now that I've followed that path ever since. I love collaboration, but if I can find a way to take care of something on my own, that's how I will probably do it.
Later on, I take my guitar to the luthier for what I've now accepted to be its regular seasonal adjustment. I've had this Martin 000-15M for two years now and its mahogany body is so much more sensitive to humidity and weather shifts than my old birdseye maple Shenandoah. I played that guitar hard for 30 years and, apart from replacing the bridge about ten years in, barely ever had it worked on. It's as sturdy as they come. The new 000-15M fluctuates all over the place, though when the action is right, it's a joy to play and hear. I hope it settles into itself at some point, just like I did.