The Weather

Supposedly, Minnesotans are incredibly keen on talking about the weather. And you know, I have to admit, this is something I've never really caught on to. I always thought it was really prosaic to point out something so obvious - "boy, sure is chilly out today." Well, of course it's chilly out - we're in Minnesota, for God's sake. People here legitimately think a good time is to fish through holes in a frozen lake. A couple years ago, there was an ice castle in St. Paul. For all the rest of the country knows, we ride penguins and reindeers instead of driving cars.

So right, I really don't get the fascination with talking about the weather. It's fairly obvious. Although then again, it's probably a bit less inflammatory social topic then me speaking extemporaneously on why I think Tom Emmer is a nutjob who will run the state into the ground.

But anyways, point being, all of a sudden, it got real frickin' cold up here. And truly, it was a real sudden change of pace. For the longest time, we had this weird Indian summer thing going on. Frankly, I'm glad it got a bit cooler, but I would have preferred a more gradual transition. As I've discussed with numerous folks, I'm fairly certain I look best in fall clothes. Not quite so awkward.

One thing I really enjoy about fall, and cool weather, is the attendant changes in what we'll call "life philosophies." And by that, I mean those subjective pleasantries that seem to crop up at this time of year. Here, in no particular order, are some of the greatest beneficiaries of fall.

1 - Pumpkin - why the hell can't this be in everything, all the time? Oh right, cause it's a fall food. Speaking of pumpkin though, I've found a new appreciation for pumpkin ale.

2 - Coffee in mid-afternoon - wait a second, this is normal anyways.

3 - Oktoberfest beers - I'm enjoying a Lake Superior Oktoberfest as I type. I do have a fondness for Summit, but Sam Adams (!) makes a mean one too, if we're talking about the Colonies.

4 - The Blues - I'm listening to a just purchased Jimmy Smith album right now. . . life-changing

5 - Sigur Rós - I think this goes back to Notts, but fall always reminds me of Sigur Rós. I think I'll blame that on Brando.

6 - Gourds - what a hilarious word

7 - The Walk From My Car to the Law School - I usually park about two and a half blocks away from Hamline, and have to walk to school from my car. The best days are those cool, crisp fall days when the leaves are changing. It's insouciant.

8 - The World Series - something just doesn't feel quite so satisfying though. Oh, that's right...

9 - Nostalgia - I don't know, fall just seems like a nostalgic time of year. Oddly enough, I think it's a good time for new beginnings, and other good things. Bouquets of newly sharpened pencils, and the like.

Go outside.

New Blog

No, no, don't worry folks, this blog isn't going away. Far from it, actually.

Some friends and I have recently started a new hobby: homebrewing beer. So yes, I spent a good chunk of my Sunday afternoon starting at a boiling pot of wort, carefully adding a nylon sock of grain and hops to the foamy cauldron. As a way to document this process, review our beers, and otherwise just have a convenient forum to place beer and brewing related musings, we've set up a NEW BLOG. Said NEW BLOG can be easily accessed via the links to your right, as you read this post.

If not, just hop on over to www.mnbrewblog.com, and let your hop fantasies run wild.

So yes, please, I invite you to take a look. Mind you, I cannot take credit for all of the content, as it is a collaborative effort. However, some dumbass posted a long rambling, melodrama to start the whole operation off, so I don't know who that could be.

Album of the Week: Version

Hello folks, back with the Internet's Greatest Semi-Regular Feature... yes, the Album of the Week. This week's album is "Version," by English producer/DJ/guitarist/just plain cool dude Mark Ronson. And seriously, I'm not just saying that because he's English.

One thing you need to know about this album, is that at a very prosaic level, none of it is original. Mark Ronson didn't actually write any of this stuff - it's mostly all covers of British indie tunes. However, given that caveat, you should know that on a less-prosaic level, this album is quite original. I've been thinking hard tonight of an apt metaphor for this work of art, and I think it's most appropriate to compare it to a different work of art.

How many of you are Tarantino fans? Should you be a Tarantino fan, you will also be a Mark Ronson fan. That is because, Ronson is perhaps the musical Tarantino of this age. I say this because nearly every track on this album has a pulpy, funky, infections reimagination to it that is equal parts surf rock, Ray Charles soul, and Big-Afro funk. Now to be fair, I don't mean that this simply would be music that would go into a Tarantino movie - that would diminish the art. No folks, this is music reimagined in a similar way, but not a copy by any means.

Now, from what Wikipedia tells me, Mark Ronson is a pretty funky guy. I know this because he's part of the production team behind Amy Winehouse's bluesy, funky "Back to Black" album (as an aside, Winehouse's feature on "Valerie" is undoubtedly one of the album standouts). What I love about this album is how seamless the funk is integrated into these very distinct songs. Partly, I guess this is attributable to the inclusion of the Dap-Kings as session musicians on nearly all the tracks. And make no mistake, the horns here are absolutely fantastic - just the perfect amount of pop, especially in the trumpet. Seriously, it is just an incredibly infectious collection of music, made even better by all the collaborations.

Of course, some of the tracks fall a bit flat, as one may expect from a mere mortal (The Beatles are obviously excluded from the "mere mortal" category). The cover of Britney Spears' "Toxic" doesn't quite do it for me, nor does "Pretty Green." But the Lily Allen cover of the Kaiser Chiefs' "Oh My God" is absolutely stunning, not least because of Allen's mind-bogglingly sultry, sexy vocals, in that way only a proper English girl can do. As aforementioned, Amy Winehouse does a tour de force rendition of "Valerie."



Maybe most confusingly, there is quite the remake of Radiohead's "Just." Yes, that Radiohead, with funky horns and Jackson 5-esque guitar strumming. Objectively, your rational brain would probably put those three things together (Radiohead, funky horns, Jackson Five), and think to yourself "hmm, not a good idea." Rational brain, yet another reason why you are overrated.

Anyways, I had heard rumors that this album was a bit overrated, but I can say after giving it a good two or so days of near constant airplay, I really enjoy it. Quite good, and you'll especially enjoy it with a well placed grain of salt, and maybe a light up dance floor to bust a groove on. Plus, Mark Ronson is still obscure enough, that you can say "Oh yes, I love this new English producer/dj/guitarist/pretty cool dude - you haven't heard of him," and still sound like the pretentious, know-it-all white person you fancy yourself.

I know I've done it at least twice now.

Not Blogging

Folks, I started a new job today. A new legal job. That's right, for the first time ever, I'm being effectively paid to do the sorts of things that people in law school expect to be effectively paid for. It was an illuminating experience. Definitely need to stake a claim on my shared desk with a Michael Cuddyer bobblehead.

Unfortunately, literally per the terms of my employment, I'm prohibited from doing any "blogging" about my job. I wish I could say it's because I'm a BFD, but I think it's moreso just the nature of public employment. Which is a shame, because I foresee my particular division as being incredibly ripe for blogging adventure. But, nary a word shall you see. . . I don't want to get fired.

Anyways, yeah, it should be a good time.

Speaking of the opposite of good times... oh Twins. I read somewhere that you really have to man up in order to be a baseball fan, because there are 162+ opportunities for utter devastation and heartbreak. Given the travesty that unfolded before my eyes the past weekend, I'm pretty sure I subscribe to that.

Oh yeah, and should anyone have any procedural questions about an arbitral tribunal's authority to issue ex parte interim relief, feel free to shoot me an email.

Open Letter

Dear Twins,

Now, I can hardly be considered a fair-weather fan, and am naturally optimistic by nature.

But this inability to beat the Yankees, is getting pretty tiresome.

I've spent a good chunk of my disposable income at your ballpark. I've worn my victory socks, drank my Grain Belt, and sat in even-numbered seats all season long. Hell, last night, I even sat in Seat 12.

As a result of these and innumerable other sacrifices, I don't think I ask so much. Just win three effing games. I'd be much happier if you'd oblige.

Very truly yours,




The Author

L'Octobre

I'm quite excited. Tomorrow night, for the first time since 2002, I'm going to go watch the Twins in playoff baseball. Sure, I'd be lying if I didn't say there was some element of dread to it; after all, we are playing the Yankees, who have had our number for quite some time. But that's the beauty of this game - hope always springs eternal.

After all, after you get knocked down or out so many times, your luck is bound to turn around, right? We've all had bad things happen to us, and sometimes, it feels like we'll never recover. But eventually, we do. I have the same hopes for the local nine tomorrow night. I'll expect mediocrity, but I'm going to dream for greatness.

In any event, it's going to be a great night in a gorgeous ballpark.

My victory socks are ready to go, I have plenty of warm weather Twins gear, my hat bill is curved just right, and homer hanky is at the ready. So tomorrow night, I'll sit down with a hot dog along the third-base line, raise a Summit to Joe Mauer, Michael Cuddyer, and the rest of the gang, and hope for a charmed Minnesota fall.

Win Twins!


P.S. Craig Finn of the Hold Steady, and noted Twins fan, penned this recent song to help our boys to the World Series. For a baseball song, it is quite fantastic.

Voyages

Hello folks. It's always amazing to me, even in this Modern Age, that one can arise in Illinois, and by the end of the day, be relaxing in Minnesota. 500+ hours, gone in the (relative) blink of an eye. Had I been in London, that same amount of distance would have taken me to either Edinburgh or Glasgow, with miles to spare. I think there's a lot of perspective to be gained in voyages like this; I think there's a sense of immensity that we too often forget with our airplanes and future phones.

Because I'm too often accused of being cryptic, I spent last weekend on an adventure of semi-epic proportions. Twin Cities to Iowa City to beautiful (but not quite Twin Cities beautiful) Champaign-Urbana and back again. It was quite a long drive, but I firmly believe that good times and good friends are worth 1100 miles. Plus, I got to catch up on my "This American Life" podcasts. Fantastic.

I can't say I'm too often thrilled to spend 9 hours in a car on any given day, but as I alluded to earlier this summer, there's something cathartic about the open road. Especially when you have a lot of thinking to do. Not that I necessarily did, but endless fields and small towns are conducive to thinking, whether or not that's your intent. Of course, it was much nicer on the leg from Iowa City to Champaign, when I had the pleasure of good company and good conversation. Among the topics: the crisis of modern American masculinity, having work be a part of your person rather than your entire person, many incredibly interesting quips about medicine which I did not understand, and much, much more!

In any event, the countless hours of diesel-fueled fun culminated in yet another Luther College manboy get-together, which I daresay, is the best kind of get-together. The weekend had a severe lack of groan-inducing trombone quartets posted on youtube, but I suppose that was rendered moot by the dual orchestral concerts that we had the pleasure of hearing, featuring Cedar Falls' finest on the bass trombone. In any event, there was exquisite food, expensive beer, morning coffee on a porch, and trophies to commemorate the weekend. Oh yes, and we also channeled our inner viking warrior spirit by drinking mead. Nothing better.

You know, I always used to hate that "manboy" moniker. It was coined via a somewhat legendary short story, the product of a person who had a rather unique, intimate view into our collective friendship. It always seemed so juvenile to me, when, considering some of our college antics, it was probably quite appropriate. At that time, I thought maybe it was a backhanded insult, since I fancied myself a sophisticate. Now, I don't think I mind it so much. Maybe it's my increasing self awareness, but when there are four grown men singing "Mr. Blue Sky" at the top of their lungs at 1 in the morning, "manboy" seems an apt descriptor.

I don't think that's bad either, because I think it's clear from our conversations that most of the time, the four of us work, work, and then work some more, trying to be something or another. It's easy to work at being a lawyer, or a doctor, or a musician, or a physicist. It's not quite as easy to work on being a person of substance, a person who has human connections. If that involves ELO singalongs and nighttime sprinting, so be it. Certainly better than the alternative.

Of course, I was rudely reminded today, as I stumbled through 25 pages of how a mortgagee perfects their assignment of rents, that such revelries are unfortunately, temporary. I used the somewhat misleading metaphor of a caravan going through the desert, stopping at an oasis, and then heading back out into the sand. Like I said, this is misleading, and maybe inappropriate - I don't necessarily think life is akin to a desert. However, with the stresses of school, job searches, women, friends, the general challenges of life; it's pretty important to just stop for a few days, and drink some water. Or, as the case may be, some overpriced beer.