thoughts while sitting in a tree in San Francisco

I sensed a great sadness in the people.

It wasn't even about the smell of marijuana wafting through the air or the endless amounts of cheap/gourmet bottles of alcohol being consumed by seemingly everyone, the level of self-medication really being a surface-level symptom of what was going on. It was the look in their eyes; the de-sensitized, zombie-like way in which they slid past each other, trying to connect with someone, anyone really, who would value them. Here, in this city that is famous for its' progressive, liberal, free-thinking ways, a place where anything/anyone is "accepted", I saw a devastating level of aloneness. The disconnect could not have been greater.

It was like I was watching a bunch of post-2000 Kerouacs and Cassadys, roaming one of the most beautiful city parks in America that served as their own Big Sur or Mexico, searching, looking, seeking but never finding. In many ways, the crowd reflected a resigned acceptance of profound disappointment in a dying American dream: If this was the end result of an American civilization that promised them freedom, prosperity and a vibrant life, they had yet to find any thing of substance or genuineness or authenticity to hold on to within that dream.

The man in the mustard yellow overcoat hopped on the tree root over and over again, as if he was a child playing, needing to test its' ability to support him. His dance partner, a beautiful girl with a vintage camera slung around her neck, drunkenly moved to the music, floating around groups of people clustered together. The connection being temporal, they spun each other around and swayed and bobbed their head. But they never laughed. Or smiled. Or indicated that there was any level of enjoyment or pleasure derived from the moment. They were there because everyone else was, because they wanted to connect to something real, maybe to each other. But, recognizing that they wouldn't or couldn't find it, their lips & eyes betrayed them in disclosing what was really going on.

I sensed a great sadness in them.

In contrast, two brothers from North Carolina stood on stage, singing songs about love, pretty girls, their family and things that had endured in their lives. What was so captivating about the activity surrounding the stage was the very apparent depth and passion emanating from the musicians: not only did they believe in what they were singing, it fulfilled them, gave them purpose, brought their souls alive. When they launched into 'Tin Man', the words hovered over the crowd, mixing with the tobacco and ganja smoke in the overcast sky, articulating nearly too accurately what was happening in the hearts of the 10,000 gathered:

I used to fill the sky around with happiness and joy
I had news to give the wind to keep myself and heart employed
I felt people move around me
I felt loneliness and shame
Back then every day was different, now each moment is the same

I miss it
I miss it
Oh, I miss that feeling of feeling

I've rarely felt such a dissonant moment.

Post Script: My good friend Taylor Armerding shared with me a really solid Kurt Vonnegut quote this morning supplementing my thoughts: "What should young people do with their lives? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured." Genius.

funny story

i like when funny stories are around in my life. they're comfortable and make things light-hearted. seeing that i prefer to take myself (un)seriously, it's important to laugh. i'd like to share one of them that has entered the fray (and by the fray, i don't mean adult-contempo pop out of the denver metropolitan area).

1. last year around this time, i started to get into the avett brothers. i resonate deeply with their straight-forward, genuine yet un-corny lyrics. i was living in pasadena with tim and nikki haydock and we were all digging their jams. one such song, 'murder in the city', and, more specifically, one line in said tune has had pretty significant meaning to me. so much so, that my sister and i will be getting the lyric tattooed on to our mortal bodies within the next few months. the lyric goes as follows:

always remember

there was nothing worth sharing

like the love

that let us share our name

pretty poignant, right? especially if you have deep, honest, genuine relationships with the folks whose circle you were born into.

:digression.

the aforementioned friend tim haydock is facebook friends with his namesake, one timothy haydock, of stoke-upon-trent, staffordshire, united kingdom. while having never met in person, there has been consistent discussion/back-and-forth via the interwebs with the english mr. haydock and the entire haydock family of fresno, california.

end:digression.

last spring, california tim haydock put the previously mentioned lyric as his status update, and, understandably so. within minutes, who was the first person to 'like' this status? english timothy haydock. my mind was blown. they share their name. it was so literal. and so genius. love knows no bounds apparently when you share your name, whether you've met the person or not.

so, here's to funny stories and the things that people do and say that make life great.

a foray into the kerouacian mind

liberal, diverse, too much alcohol at times

fixed gear bikes and the invasion of northern kids, looking for a sense of culture that strip malls can't and won't offer

methheads spewing stream-of-consciousness rants at mythical bears following them down the street

a police station on broadway, stacked to the deep, looking like a lone fortress in this forest of decay/life

too much coffee, too many cigarettes, hipsters claiming psuedo-elitism until a relationship gets you in

blank stares from the people at the bus stop

the same stare from the people rolling through in the beamers

friends smoking blunts or bowls in parking lots, casual like it was tobacco

friends who also give meaning to the forgotten people of this strip: a half-Asian, one-sleeved vagabond and a guy whose beard is the envy of many

the Asian bar, the Hispanic bar, the pub, the club.....ish

somehow, it all works

somehow, it's enough and not enough

this is my place

we borrow, we share, there's music everywhere

i've been inspired by my friend tim to reflect and offer my favorite albums of the decade. these aren't the best, the most poignant (although that does play a large part, what with my incessant need for idealistic reflection) or the critically acclaimed. these are albums that have meant more than the packaging and clever titles; they've become soundtracks to specific periods in my life, times when music was my best (and sometimes only) friend.

that being said, i'd like to present 7 albums from the 2000s, as opposed to the standard of 10, or in tim's case, 12. why 7? god's number. it's a nice round number, depending on your definition of round. what's wrong with a bit of kissing up to the divine?

david bazan 'fewer moving parts'

bazan moves me into the middle, a place between faith and doubt, of question and answer, of realizing my knowledge/experience of things isn't as clear as i'd like to think it is. his lyrical ability is compelling, witty and irreverent and on 'fewer moving aparts', he takes a crack at 5 tracks in acoustic/full band form, splitting the gap with a message of (un)knowingness. listening to "backwoods nation" for the first time was important in my political journey; the honesty and candor with which he speaks is something i took for my own personal narrative.

the cool kids 'the bake sale'

call it hipster-hop, call it a return to late '80s-early '90s hip-hop by a few dudes from chicago, call it whatever you want: 'the bake sale' was the sound of good times for me. the delivery slow, the verses cleverly arrogant, the fixation with pop culture, these tracks hit me...and hard.

delta spirit 'ode to sunshine'

absolutely brilliant debut lp. they have this ability to create finely composed tunes that are catchy yet musically experimental enough. lyrically, they deal with important issues without being too sentimental or preachy, something i appreciate with most bands failing at that. seeing them as soon as i got back from the UK was a brilliant welcome back party. it was even better because my best friends (and hillary duff! oMg!) were there to share in the experience. if you've never listened to "trashcan" full blast on the stereo and danced your heart out, you haven't lived.

bon iver 'for emma, forever ago'

justin vernon became my new favorite mountain man with this. completely epic and so minimalist. his falsetto makes me think i can sing and speaks to my soul. i can't imagine what seeing him live would be like. it reminds me of overcast, gray mornings, catching the bus to work in london and times spent reflecting on life in my room alone with a cup of french press.

the perishers 'let there be morning'

this is the most specific of the bunch. it takes me back to when relationships were in between, where the significant people in my life operated in a liminal space. while the tone and sound is positive on first listen, the album is lush with layers, sonically and lyrically. "weekends" and "pills" leave me speechless every time.

death cab for cutie 'plans'

possibly the most influential album i listened to in the last decade. i was given a previous effort 'the photo album' by a friend and thought it was pretty good. then i bought 'plans'. ben gibbard said so many things i didn't know how to and the band added excellent musicianship and creativity to create a perfect storm. the album has this almost cinematic quality to it, as if it's inviting you to come along and watch it unfold but also to participate in the story. it taught me to listen to music collectively; some of the best discussions i've had about music has been about 'plans'.

mewithoutYou "brother, sister"

equal parts spoken word delivery, equal parts experimental psychedelia with a penchant for minor chords, brother/sister was instrumental in highlighting the importance of analogy for me. it's ok to be wordy and mask a larger truth in a whimsical delivery and clever lyric. it reminds me of a time that my friends and i shared a brilliant summer and an unfortunate situation; we were brought together by the words, 'god is love and love is real'.

somewhere in the midwest

on to the next one

Vlog: Day 2

Date: November 3, 2009

Time: 1:19 MT

Location: almost to Tucumcari, NM

Music: Delta Spirit “Strange Vines”

Weather: Sunny, but not happy sunny - mischevious “I’m gonna mess with you today” sunny

Jordan told me I’d have to roll with the punches on this road trip. I just didn’t expect a gravel road to do the punching.

As we were driving, Jordan felt the impulse to stop and take a few roadside pictures of the massive empty expanse that is eastern New Mexico. We did. It was windy and the pictures are fresh. In my excitement for windy freshness, I skipped back to the car. And I tripped… and I fell… I am not a small child. In fact, I do not consider myself to be clumsy, yet I tripped over something (Jordan blames my shoelaces - I think it was a rock) I attempted to catch myself - first with my feet. Then when that failed, my second option became my left hand and my right elbow, seeing as I was carrying the camera [thanks dad, you’ve taught me to care more about protecting the camera I’m holding than my own body J] I had a moment of panic – this feeling is so foreign. I am 20 years old and scraping myself up is certainly not in my age description. Nevertheless, there I was: stomach on the ground, smelling asphalt. I groaned a little and then, “Jordaaaaan. I fell.” In retrospect, did he not wonder where I went when I suddenly wasn’t on the other side of the car? He came over and helped me up and I began to examine the damage. “Skin is not supposed to do that,” I said. The larger-than-gravel rocks decided to take up carving and I was there practice material. We drove until we found a gas station, I cleaned myself up, bought some Neosporin, Band-Aids and Advil and we’re back on the road. I’m still giggling about it.

Gallup, New Mexico was rather uneventful, but sufficient in the Eat and Sleep Division and they win first place for Most Indian Stores. Despite stares from the locals at The Coffee House, we rounded up some hot drinks and hit it again. Until Albuquerque, we vlogged and discussed what body part we would allow to be bitten off – you know, if you were in prison… among biters…. and they let you choose. We both settled on a butt cheek. Who needs ‘em? Albuquerque satisfied our Starbucks fix and gifted us with The Avett Brothers’ new album “I and Love and You.”

And now we press on.

might be the boring bit

Date: November 2, 2009

Time: 7:06pm MT (Mountain Time, Mennonite Time, Mingin' Trannies)

Location: Navajo Blvd, Eastern Arizona (just take a left at Flagstaff and you'll hit it in about 90 minutes)

Weather: a clear sky and an even more clear moon

Music: Laura Marling, Britain's finest female vocalist, singing sweet ditties into the collective Wiebe ear

Eastern Arizona's flat. Flat like a pancake griddle or a spatula or any other cooking utensil used for breakfast (except a whisp, used to make batter for previously mentioned pancakes.) Man, IHOP sounds good......actually, it sounds gross. Maybe a bit of both? Disagree to agree.

Jordan checking in. Where to begin? I've thoroughly enjoyed the time spent making the highways and byways my bizznle, although I had to tap out after a solid 575 miles. There's only so much one can do. In addition, I wanted to give the Hare (as she will be henceforth referred to) some time behind the wheel. She's doing exceptionally well, giving ample space for semis and signalling well in advance. What can I say, the kid's got talent.

We point our 'rich kid Volvo', as christened by one Bryan Feil, towards Gallup, Newt Mecksicko, where we will stop, eat, rest and try not to be picked up on by truckers. The road gets lonely and sometimes, folks will take what they can get. We will barricade ourselves in the hotel room, taking advantage of the free HBO and free WiFi provided by the generous Travelodge, which was ascertained by our main man William Shatner at priceline.com. Cheers, Mr. Trekky!

Sidenote: Anika just asked, 'can someone to go to jail for verbal abuse?' I'm afraid she's working herself up to an oral tirade upon me, unleashing the combined wrath, fury and wit of a British comedian and Bill O'Reilly.

Reflections on Arizona: Mountainous, desert-y, boring at times, thrilling at others. The folks in Flagstaff were pleasant enough. I greatly appreciate the state's placing of highway signs directly underneath the center of the overpass. aesthetically, it's pleasing to the eye and, in a way, more efficient than CA's insistence on stand alone signs along the right shoulder of the road. Saves money, looks better, a proverbial rejection of the culture of governmental 'pork', precious tax dollars being used efficiently. GBA!

Things to look forward to:

1. A detailed ranking of best possible locations for a utopian community on our route a la The Village

2. A daily morning vlog

3. Requests/conclusions for topics of discussion

Cheers!

and so it begins...

Date: November 2, 2009

Time: 9:02 am PST

Location: 99 South passing through Delano

Music: mewithoutYou “Bullet to Binary Part II”

Weather: Clear and Sunny - like Bono

After an hour of driving, I’ve written an introduction to the 3-5 page book response that was due 4 weeks ago. It’s a good thing I’m on top of things…

“Do you think we could listen to 6 straight “This American Life”s in a row? That’d be pretty crazy.” Jordan interrupts my writing with his game plan to pass time for the first half of today’s trip. Apparently I am the hare and he is the tortoise on this venture. Can you blame me? It’s my first legitimate road trip as a semi-adult with my older semi-adult best friend brother. I think I would rather have my newbie fervor for the open road though than his seasoned-road-trip-veteran lack of enthusiasm. It’s like our fat sausage dog Ginger and Trevor Jones’ two year old daughter, Berkeley. She is excited about life and falling on Ginger. Ginger is not. Unfortunately for Jordan, he has no beds to hide under… and I will fall on him.

So far this morning, we Starbucksed: iced coffee with 2 shots & Madeleine shortbreads / iced vanilla chai tea with soy & a banana. We bought Scanner 911 app on Jordan’s iPhone and thought about making some citizen’s arrests on our way. We read 1 John 1 and received our first phone call from Andy Ortiz – whom we had seen only an hour earlier at Starbucks (We love you Andy J) and now we make our first turn off onto the 58 East – new territory to both of us. Only good things are ahead.

Date: November 2, 2009

Time: 4:00 pm MT

Location: 40 East – somewhere between Kingman and Flagstaff (Arizoooona)

Music: Ben Harper “When She Believes”

Weather: Clear to Clear

I can’t pop my left ear. Son of a biscuit. Positives however: speed limit is 75. Winner Winner Chicken Dinner! Jordan is contemplating a career as a dance instructor – dream big brother!

From the 58 East we worked our way toward Barstow. And wasn’t THAT a bust?! Made a completely pointless trip to Vons in search for Jamba Juice [What were you thinking Google maps??] However, gas at Valero, a free envelope from a girl who thought Jordan was cute, and Carl’s Jr: big carl, natural cut fries, coke / chicken stars, crisscuts, dr. pepper, satisfied anything that Barstow itself failed to fulfill. Later, we entered into some theological discussion and would like to extend the invitation to provide us with more theological issues to discuss. Hit us with your best shot!

Not too long after, I decided to take control of the music selection. Needless to say, Jordan was less than thrilled with my choice of “Party in the U.S.A.” by Miley Cyrus. (However, he was “nodding his head, like yeah” – it must be love) He proceeded to exile me to the land of large headphones and I suppose it’s a good thing because now - in 8 hours, I have a whole page of my paper! Somewhere in there Jordan slowed down to about 50 miles on the 40 to make sure we both got pictures of the Arizona sign, but then it didn’t come and then it still didn’t come… yet we precariously held up our cameras pointed toward where we thought the sign should/would be for a good 10 minutes. It finally came – I got a picture, so did Jordan… except without the word Arizona on it. Such is life.

pre-roadie writing

hello, dear friends.

anika, my sister, and i are set to embark on a nice little roadtrip tomorrow morn, culminating in a weekend in the windy city. it promises to bring us closer together in so many ways; literally (travelling in a confined space with a bike, piles of clothes, suitcases and ceramic statues of jesus) metaphysically (in that whole brother-sister sort of way) proverbially (like a zwiebach two parts coming together to fuse in the oven) and midwestern-ly (as per most of our travel is in the midwest, i expect anika to start pronouncing her o's looooooooonger and to forsake her chill, california vibe for some downhome 'aww-shucks' heartland demeanor.) without further ado, a route for your perusing...or routing....or routusing. love. x

View Movin' on to Memphis in a larger map

hanging out with rob eans

these days, i have a spot of time on my hands. i've moved back from memphis and am working on finding gainful employment. this means lots of hangout time. naturally, one must find places that are conducive to spending hours and hours occupied by oneself so as not to become a drone and sit in front of the TV. my spot? coffee shops.

sidenote: neighborhood thrift will be opening their own corner cafe in the next few months. (complete promo: please head over to the corner of olive and wilson in the coming winter months for some solid french press coffee. there won't be a better cafe in fresno.)

now, as i have done a bit of traveling in the past 3 months, i am always looking for good coffee shops along the way. i've got a thing for the ones with character and/or a good aesthetic paired with superb coffee; the small, hole-in-the-wall, warm, inviting meeting houses where eccentric people work, old men sit around for hours and hours, talking about everything under the sun, and espresso is served fresh. here are a few favorite places where i've sipped on an americano or eight:

1. the revue fresno, ca

my version of a local watering hole. while i will say the coffee isn't on par with some of the other spots, the design is phenomenal with lots of darker themes, old wooden benches and chairs in black and red and a touch of vintage french art. it also has a section for books and local independent media if you need something to wrap your head around. beyond that, there's a big community vibe; a steady stream of regulars, down-to-earth staff and the feeling that you'll more than likely run into someone you know.

2. republic coffee memphis, tn

located just east of midtown, republic coffee was the best spot i could find in memphis. i'd rate the americano a 7 out of 10, it actually kind of has this weird taste at the beginning of the cup that somehow works itself out in the end. design-wise, republic has more of a modern feel to it with a two-sided bar flanking the espresso machines, booths lining one side and couches on the other side for studying. it's often filled late at night with rhodes college and university of memphis students studying or playing games, so usually there's a chill vibe. if your rolling through memphis, definitely stop by.

3. late for the train flagstaff, az

smaller in size but packs a major punch coffee-wise. i was able to hit up the espresso bar located downtown, which has its' own really cool aesthetic going. i picked up the "dirty dave", or something to that effect, and it was easily the best latte i'd had in months, smooth from start to finish with just the right amount of espresso and milk. late for the train doubles as a coffee roasting company with online ordering available; if you're interested in great coffee, i'd recommend throwing a couple of bucks their way and picking up a bag or two of the whole bean blends.

4. coffee slingers oklahoma city, ok

the most urban design of the bunch, which is kind of ironic considering it's nestled in the midwest. when i visited in the late afternoon, there were hardly any folks in the cafe, so it may be one of those downtown worker/early morning places, with all sorts of business and yuppie-types crowding the space in the AM. it shares its' space with what looked to be a pretty successful bike shop, so if you don't mind the smell of rubber while you sip, go right on ahead. the espresso seemed to have an extra bit of kick to it and the cinnamon roll was phenomenal. from what i saw, they had a wide selection of pastries and tea, so if yerba mate, red velvet cupcakes or loose leaf tea is your thing, you'd feel right at home with coffee slingers.

5. intelligentsia chicago/LA

the granddaddy of top quality espresso/coffee; also, probably the most pretentious. intelligentsia has had some pretty major success in the US barista championships in the past, so maybe they have good reason to be pretentious. the broadway store in chicago had quite the line when i visited and it's no wonder why: the americano i had was absolutely smashing. while there were similar design motifs with the silverlake store, it has a more comfortable feel than its' southern california counterpart. bottom line: if your within 45 miles of an intelligentsia location and are in need of coffee, the trek there is worth it.

other locations that i hope to visit soon...

alterra coffee milwaukee, wi

kaldi's coffee st. louis, mo

stumptown coffee portland, or

every starbucks in fresno........just kidding