SNOWWWWW

New Kicks and Jacket, yo.  Shoes are Onitsuka Tiger Colorado 85's, jacket 'Bomber' by Standard Cloth. Pants by Altamont.  Shirt by the North Face.

So it is snowing like mad here in Boulder! There is already over a foot of fresh on the ground, and it is still coming down pretty good. I really want to get some homework done, but all I can think about is how sweet the first turns of the season are going to be this Friday at Loveland Pass.  I always feel like I'm in a little bit of a funk, a creative/interpersonal rut if you will, right before ski season starts. I feel like my life needs this added purpose and them BAM! it snow's 2 feet in October like this, and suddenly ski season has begun and I am back to doing something I'm not only good at but gives me inexplicable pleasure.  The forecast is calling for upwards of 3 feet(!!!) in favorable areas around the crest of the continental divide [AKA Loveland and Berthoud Passes!] by this time on Thursday.  Tomorrow is supposed to be extremely cold, possible record-setting low's even; with an expected HIGH of around 29(!!) in Boulder.... needless to say I'm not looking forward to class, but life goes on I suppose.  Upside is it's supposed to return to the low 60's and sunny early next week, typical Boulder temperature extremes.  Until then I'm going to lay low, pursue creative outlet time-wasters such as this, do homework, eat large quantities of soup and bread, and hibernate dreaming about skiing Friday.

New Poetry

Or new-old poetry. anyways, here it isss....

~Sunday Afternoon~

Idle longingly before the setting sun, alive with murderous orange angles,

lean shadows that linger on your figure, I caught a glimmer of possibility

on the west wind blowing cold, arctic air down from the mountains,

that knows not of loss nor regret, only change, Monday is tomorrow, but what does that

really mean, idleness and order we create to satisfy our own chaos.

humanities trivial struggles, but of love and loss eternal, I see a dimension

faded in your smile, a singularity amidst all this quiet unrest, don't mark the presence 

of the earth on you, but yours on this earth, your footsteps I followed over obstacles

and misunderstandings.  I know nothing of this unrest, only of Monday and the heavy

trodding steps of time they ebb and flow on the tide of austere aestheticism

and wayward ambition. Sunday afternoon.

~Chalk~

Grit my hands bare and raw against rough sandstone monoliths, channeling all my energy

into liquid, flowing movement across a stone canvas, lit with the obscenity of gravity,

the meek effort not to conquer but merely to climb, to for a moment escape the dull concerns of the world, to be conscious of the fleeting moments that comprise true life, gratitude for breathing, for reaching into a chalkbag for friction but also for inspiration, the sinew of my body held spellbound by the deafening silence of the rock, to ascend the edges of an ancient sea petrified and thrust skyward from the depths of the earth only to be set amongst calm junipers and crash pads, cool commitment to exhale a breath of contemplation of what this stone means, your signature is but a vagabond chalk mark smeared on another hold, reflect my being.

~Send it~

Rough, crooked lines up steadfast, monolithic stone, granite tugs at my frame, a thin figure at odds with the nagging downward insistence of gravity, as I shoot a deft, hopeful hand sideways into a slight weakness in the ocean of rock, the edge of a crashing wave of granite, myself a speck in the widening maw, the curving wall launching itself headfirst into the abyss,

the unknown wears thin the shallow facade of cautious reservation I met this problem with a few fleeting frames ago, and suddenly I see it, how, for an absurd moment, I'll trick gravity into granting upward passage, and there, then, in the fantastically tangible impulse of the moment, I leap back, and I am liquid being hurled high towards a deep, hidden jug, which my fingers graze, and I magnetically latch on, my feet swing wildly and then suddenly there is

nowhere no go but down, down to towns and homework and and people and the wilderness of society until the next time we meet, somewhere on the jagged horizon.

Great Photo-Article in today's NYT

Dinner tonight: Grilled pepper/lime juice marinated Mahi Mahi Steak with French cut green beans and an anchovy/Roma Tomato Salad with balsamic. Drinks: Grapefruit Negroni. [Grapefruit juice, seltzer, bombay sapphire gin, campari, lime.] Total cost: ~$6.00. Yes, you read that right. I was pretty excited today at King Soopers [yes, I shop the Colorado equivalent of shop and stop or safeway, I could go to Whole Foods or Ideal Market and pay twice as much for the same food, but prefer not to.] Amyways, they had FRESH, unfrozen Mahi Mahi and Yellowfin Tuna steaks at a great price, like really quite reasonable, so I stocked up on a few of each, dinner for the next week! The greens of course are cheap and available all year round in many varieties. so there you have it. just plan ahead a bit, don't be afraid to get creative with seasoning [as a rule of thumb, I try to group like flavors together, but everything else is open game.]. Seasoning for the fish is lime juice [1 lime, squeezed], dash of fresh-group pepper, a little pre-mixed lemon-pepper seasoning [any will do], and a few tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil, marinate for 2 hours in fridge while I go to the climbing gym and, voila! sear in an open skillet on medium high 10-12 minutes or until medium-rare and there you go. The Negroni is very easy to make and is a classic Italian dinner drink, which can be modified with grapefruit or pomegranate juice quite easily to make a more robust cocktail. yum!!!

dinner last Friday night... Wild Salmon Chipotle burgers on Sourdough with dijon and mixed green, and a glass of Stumpjumper 2006 Chardonnay, a great inexpensive white wine that goes excellently with fish. You can buy the salmon burgers already-made at Whole Foods or Ideal Market, rather reasonably too I feel for the quality, roughly $6 for 2. Delish.

http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2009/10/19/world/20091006SWEDEN_index.html

Stumbled on this fantastic little photo-article in the New York Times this morning. The premise is that Sweden, along with other European countries, has begun to label foods with the approximate Carbon footprint of a food item, using a government-monitored system to "carbon declare" foods, say, a an oatmeal box that reads ".87 Kg. of CO2 produced per kg. product." A fascinating and superb idea, and something I would love to see the U.S follow suite on!

On A similar note, here's another great link for local readers:

A new Tesla Motors dealership has just opened in Boulder; my roommate Alex was present for the opening fanfare this past Friday evening [which I'm sad I missed, not becuase I know much about cars but becuase it was catered by The Kitchen, one of Boulder's best resteraunts!]

Anyways, Tesla has actually been around for quite some time, dating back to famous electrical engineer and physicist Nikola Telsa, who , in addition to his revolutionary work on electromagnetism, is credited with being the first to point out to absurdity of the gasoline engine compared to the AC engine for motor vehicles. some hundred years later, the fruits of his ingenuity have finally blossomed in the form of these sleek, climate-conscious vehicles, which are the first serial-produced EV road-ready vehicles in the world.

I suppose if I wanted to be the cynical earth scientist that I am, I could point out the inherent flaws in the logic that electrical vehicles are vastly 'cleaner' than their gasonline-powered counterparts, given the uncertainly of the source of the electricity you draw off the grid when you plug-in your new Tesla Roadster, and the high probability it is coming from fossil fuel sources, such as coal or natural gas powered plants. It is, however, a definite step in the right direction. Just don't get too high and mighty with me bwefore you prove that the electricity your powering your swanky new EV with comes soly from solar or wind power. Or nuclear. Which is a seperate issue entirely. [and one I would love to argue the merits/pitfalls of some other time.]

http://www.teslamotors.com/teslastore/detail.php?s=Boulder

For those with $100k to spend, I'd say an new roadster is a fine investment, though.

On a seperate and less optimistic note, it is really upsetting to still see headlines like this on a regular basis:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/27/world/middleeast/27iraq.html?ref=world

While the media focus in Obama's adminstration may have shifted to Afghanistan, Iraq is still very much an active war zone, and the insurgency, as the American militiary prescence choses to call them, has come to mean an ill-defined mix of religious extremists, former Hussein supporters, and everyday people who are fed up and angry at a forced occupation of their country that seems to be producing more bad than good.

Two resounding themes seem to be present in all this violence: religion and goodwill misplaced by greed. I suppose that's the story of most of the war in the history of the world, but it seems this situation is doubly-compounded the fact that while Iraqi's are fueling the religous issues, it is laregely the American presence that is catalyzing the outlash of insurgent violence, to the point that "insurgent" has just come to mean any Iraqi who doesn't agree with the American occupation and the puppet goverment we have installed.

Real peace will come to Iraq, first we have to respect and trust the Iraqi people, and allow them back their dignity which was been stripped by both Saddaam and a conflicted, uncertain war of the past 5 years.

DJ Vajra/Kraack & Smack/Fort Knox Five

was epic. Ok, maybe not quite epic, I hate the overuse and "bro-i-ness" [is that a word?] of that word, which I prefer to use for really long, scary days out climbing, or skiing knee-deep pow for 8 hours. Anyways....

So yah, DJ Vajra is a cat to watch. Fellow heads/indie nerds.... do not sleep on this! in addition to being a D-town native and having spun at everything from Nuggets half-time shows to top indie hop hop acts, he is the real deal. when He came on stage and immediately kicked into a mix of Headnodic's "Vallejo", I was like damnnn.... quite impressed. Honestly, in the turntablism/hip hop DJ game right now, I think he might only be equalled by Thes One, Cut Chemist, DJ Shadow, and maybe Mark Farina. That's right, I favorably compared him to "the man" in live DJ'ing. He recently released a single with Othello, which is pretty awesome. Has also worked with heavyweights like Ohmega Watts, Lightheaded, Headnodic, and Eyedea and Abilities. Have a feeling he is going to be big.

Anyways, next up was D.C's 'Fort Knox Five', who also rocked a killer set, which, while not quite as quality-consistent as Vajra's set, had some pretty impressive funk cuts and superb breakbeats. Their penchant for mixing old jazz/funk samples into tight breakbeats is reminiscent of Mark Farina or Kraack & Smaack.

Speaking of Kraack & Smack, their set delivered a force and pleasure suggested by their name, with the classic old-school live turntablism and mixing skills they are known for. The only unfortunate aspect to the whole show was the utter lack of people. Weak sauce! I love how MSTRKRFT will doubtlessly sell out for their Thursday show at the Fox, while equally-talented DJ's [THREE of them nonetheless] attract maybe 40 people topz. What it really is, the way I'm seeing it, is that MSTRKRFT has made it's way onto the indie/college 'cool kids' radar as an "it" band, thus attracting the dreaded "bro" crowd. I don't mean to be so down on "bros" all the time, I suppose I'm just another bro really, what I hating on is their passive, complacent attitude towards real creativity and sincerity in music and culture.

For the record, I thought MSTRKRFT's first album was superb. The best thing that could have come out of Death From Above 1979's breakup. Which is why I had such high expectations of "fist of god' and was so disappointed by the reduction to cheesy vocal collaborations with washed-up hip hop artists, and weak beats that sounded more like noise than music. Ah well, I'll just keep listening to "The Looks" until they make a return to their old style.

Music and Book Reviews ect..

King Lear Peak, Nevada. June 2006.

Love the scraggly bush with the expanse of the black rock desert in the background. This peak is a fabulous hike and if you are in the area in Northern Nevada I highly recommend it. The views are obscene as is the solitude.

Black Rock Desert, Nevada, June 2006.

This is near the area where the famous annual counterculture festival 'Burning Man' is held each August.

Leading Pitch 5 of "Syckes Sickle" Spearhead Peak, Rocky Mountain National Park.

September 2009. Relieved to be getting in a good piece of gear under that flake after a little PG-13/R slab action!!

Dave, Chromeo, Monolith 2009.

Ally. 2004.

World Trade Center Beam, Memorial, New York, 2002.

West Shaft Headframe, Sterling Mine, Ogdensburg, New Jersey, 2003.

Trotter Mill Site, Franklin, New Jersey, 2003.

For some reason I can't ever seem to get over my interest in urban decay and old industrial landscapes. I love the idea of nature renewing and taking over these vast man-made edifices that are crumbling away along with our economy. Sort of bleak and inspiring at the same time.

Succasunna, New Jersey. 2004.

Somehow this sum's my mood right now quite well. Fulfilled yet uncertain, anxious yet content, I feel like I'm on the edge of something big, sharp, and definitive, looking over. But also reminiscing about being a kid and finding the absurd in the everyday.

Random inspiration for Dinner tonight: Linguine Fra Diavlo with prawns, Mixed Greens and Pomegranate tossed in Balsamic Vinagerette and Olive Oil, and a glass of Louis Jadot Maison Nuef, my favorite inexpensive white wine that tastes expensive! Now why don't I have dinner guests over more often. hah.

Dandy

X-Mas 2008 in New York.

Annual end of summer banquet, The Chewonki Foundation, Wiscasset, Maine. August 2009,

Tri-color nerd. Pants: Altamont; Herman Wiltshire Signature. Shoes: Sanuk Plaids. Belt Buckle: Chinatown, NY. Vest: St. Moritz [from Salvation Army.] Shirt: Salt Valley. Hat: [urbanoutfitters.com]

Something silly I put together today.... inspiration was a combination of the New Chromeo DJ Kicks Release and the French Electronica Scene. Jacket is by B.C Ethic, found at Salvation Army for 15 bucks; Jeans are by Levi's [511's], Sunglasses by Ray-Ban, Shoes by Sanuk, shirt my J-Crew.

Anyways.....
Please excuse my absence from the blogosphere. As if anyone is reading this that intently anyways hah. Anyways, I've been busy with school, reading, climbing, listening to new music.... you know... just the usual. In keeping with the independent media theme of this blog, here's some media that has piqued my interest recently.

First, a few books:

1.) "The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian" by Sherman Alexie. This is an amazing novel. It is the first work by the prolific and talented mr Alexie to be targeted at young adults [ie; teens], but don't let this discourage you from reading this heartfelt and moving coming-of-age story.. Mr. Alexie's masterful prose and quick wit are sure to delight readers of any age. The plot revolves around "Junior" [a portrait of Mr. Alexie as a young man], an indian boy raised on the reservation in Spokane, Washington, who struggles to find his identity both as an Indian and as someone who know's the only way to find success is to "escape the rez" and effectively be a nomad between cultures. This is one of those 'read in one sitting' novels for sure.

2.) "My Life as a Trainwreck", by Jeff Nichols. This is self-deprecating humor at its finest.... this hilarious and brutally honest autobiography of comedian, actor, and fisherman Jeff Nichols will have you laughing out loud in public and not giving a damn. Mr. Nichols spills all in this confession of his youth, from selling striped bass illegally out of the back on his 92' civic in Queens to the A.A dating scene..... You won't be able to put this down.

2.) "Nog" by Rudolph Wurlitzer. "Nog" emerges from the fog of human consciousness as a ghostly apparition of what we have become and a haunting memoir of one man's search for identity, adrift in a wild, romanticized west. As Thomas Pynchon said once, "The Novel of Bullshit is Dead", and "Nog" emerges from the haze of the couterculture movement of the 60s and 70's as a post-revolutionary look at the state of the American culture machine.

3.) "Dreams from my Father", by Barrack Obama. A sincere and moving memoir that resonates with anybody who has been caught between identity and society; and a story of a truly remarkable man. I am so damn proud to have you as our President after reading this book Mr. Obama.

4.) "The Affected Provincial's Companion, Vol. I", By Lord Breulove Swells Whimsy. A hilarious and relevant parody of the state of modern culture, and the price of being peculiar. A treatise almost equalled in it's silliness by it's sincerity. Anyone with the no-de-plume 'Lord Whimsy' is a winner in my book! An informal and highly amusing history of everything from Dandyism to "The Retrosexual." Highly Reccomended!!

Now for a few music reviews....

1.) "Destroy Rock And Roll", Mylo, Breastfed Music Ltd., 2004. It seems that everyone and their cousin is a "bedroom DJ" these days, but few do it with such style and skill as Scotland's Myles McInnes, better known as Mylo, who rocked the indie electronic world in 2004 with his first album, "Destroy Rock And Roll." This is possibly the best record ever made on such primitive equipment and low budget. Proof that skill and creativity are not bought and sold, as the mainstream music industry would have us believe. One listen to such gems as "In My Arms", "Guilty Of Love", and "Drop the Pressure" will have you dancing and simultaneously shaking your head at how this quality of music could be made with a keyboard, a few synths, and a computer. God bless technology!

2.) "Stainless Style", Neon Neon. Neon Neon is a recent collaboration between Cincinnati DJ Boom Bip and Gruff Rhys of Super Furry Animals, and has really made the best 'new wave' electronica album in quite some time with their 2008 release "stainless style', which shimmers with cold synths, extremely catchy bass hooks, and an overall sleekness you would expect of such a title. Highlights include "I told her on Alderaan", which would have been a top 40 billboard hit in the 80's, "Raquel", a shameless and lovely tribute to 70's/80's icon Raquel Welch, and "Steel Your Girl", a ballad about iconic steel and automobile magnate John DeLorean. Indeed, the entire album is basically a cheeky tribute to Mr. DeLorean, the inventor of the GTO and credited with inspiring the "muscle car revolution." If this was a hip hop album, it would get 5 mics, but it's a Neon Neon album, so it gets 5 chrome hood ornaments.

3.) "Fantastic Playroom", New Young Pony Club. I love this album. I really do. While it's easy to make off-handed comparison's to fellow glam/indie electronica acts 'The Gossip' or 'Ladyhawke'. I think after a thorough listen we see that this British newcomer has just as refined and polished a sound, with, dare I say, a bit more edge and less pop filler than Beth Ditto's melodramatic lyrics. While it seems much of this so-called 'new wave' electronica movement in the indie scene today is contrived and gimmicky, NYPC radiates sincerity and earnest talent, as evident in the tracks "The Get Go", "Fan", and "Tight Fit". almost reminiscent of New Order's last few albums at times, this album is a real throwback to an era not too long ago where music could be punk, pop, and indie all at the same time, without the stigma.

4.) "Thunder, Lightning, Strike!", The Go! Team. What to say about this album... well, it might just be the best thing Brighton, England has ever produced. This creative and innovative band emerges a shining star from from the grimy industrial wastelands of northern England, with a sounds that invites comparison with everything from The Avalanches to The Pixies to the B-52's early work. Silly, loud, and catchy as hell, their well-crafted indie pop fly's along at 100 miles an hour propelled by stinging basslines and pounding drums. innovative sample use incorporating horns, jingles, and old garage-punk snippets along with live instruments makes for a truly unique and memorable mix. Add some lyrics that make you think your back at the bus stop in the rain in 1995 and nobody understands you, and you have a killer album. Highly recommended.

Where The Wild Things Are

So I went and saw 'Where The Wild Things Are' last night. I have to admit I was a tad bit skeptical before I saw it; there had been so much hype and adoration, especially among the 20-something hipster set, that I was prepared to maybe be a bit disapointed. Not in the slightest! The movie lived up to my expectations, exceeded them even, and is the best animated/ computer graphics film I have seen in a long time. The plot was clever, true to the novel [book rather I guess, it is a kid's book after all, and was one of my favorites as a child]., and filled with gorgeous imagery and surreal landscapes. The soundtrack, producer mostly by Yeah Yeah Yeah's frontwoman Karen O, was catchy and upbeat. Highly reccomended!!

Anyways, the film got me thinking about my own childhood, and the parallels I saw between myself and the child in the movie [also named Max, ironically enough. For those not in the know, which is most of you, my real first name is Max, Philip is my middle name!]. I didn't have many friends as a kid, and was a hardcore science and nature nerd. [still am!]. I spent most of my time roaming around our property, which was around 75 acres in suburban New York 40 miles from Manhattan, I didn't grasp the magnitude of our fortune to have this in our family until I was much older, I just assumed every kid had a huge yard to run around in and build forts, but that's another story. Anyways, I was known as THE kid in the neighborhood for building crazy forts and swings and ziplines in trees and stuff. I think though the other kids sensed my social awkwardness and low standing on the elementary/middle school pecking order, they had a sort of unspoken respect for me based on my sheer fearlessness at jumping out of trees on homemade devices of the sketchiest nature.

We had a huge Norway Pine begind our house next to the Barn which must have been close to 100 feet high if not more; I think I measured it once at around 115; anyways, I climbed within 5 feet of the top several times, and remember being able to see what felt like forever [this is Long Island we are talking about; it's pretty damn flat.] I could see the north and the south shores just barely on a clear day. Up there, the main branches had receded into a bushy nest of young branches and green pine cones, and I felt like I was being pushed up into the sky; swaying in the wind on spindly sticks 100 feet up. Any wonder I've taken up rock climbing so intensely later in life?

The movie made me want to climb trees again, to jump in a pile of autumn leaves on the corner, to wolf howl in the movie theater through the closing credits, to live without fear or regrets or questions, just in the moment. I realize I am already doing this more than many people; but it's a struggle to balance "the real world" with "the world of the mind." When the boy, Max, returns home after his adventure with the wild Things,it is exactly like when he ran away outside, and you get the impression the author's message is that the journey really was one of his imagination, which is the point. Anyways, It made me miss my mom [can't wait too see my family for X-Mas!], sailing small wooden boats on the coast of Maine this past summer, and climbing! Thankfully all 3 of those things are integral parts of my life and hopefully will continue to be so.

Here I am with 2 of my best Sailor's from this past summer in Maine, Jacob from Germany on the right, and Tanner from New Hampshire on the left. Great kids! I miss Maine!

9/19/2009:

More good new music I've listening to lately.... The following has got me smiling consistantly:

1.) Raphael Saadiq's 'The Way I see it". What a great album. It really is surprising that given Mr. Saadiq's soulful, classic voice, neo-soul motown-meets-nu jazz beats and accessable sound he doesn't have a billboard hit to his name, but maybe this is a good thing, given what tends to happen to good artists once they reach this level of acclaim. Raphael Saadiq has been in the game since his early days with "Tony, Toni, Toni!" in trhe late 60's and early 70's, and has quite the impresswive discography to his name, furth credit to his polished yet raw sound and great live sets.
2.) German DJ Siriusmo's "The Univited Guest." Short but killer EP with several superb instrumental tracks. Reminiscent of the best of Institubes or Ed Banger.
3.) Early Productions by The Neptunes..... yah I'm talking about the shit they did before they started producing the likes of J.T and Snoop.... check out 03's "The Neptunes Present.... Clones" for a sample of their distinctive catchy/hot beats and overall smooth sound.
4.) Japanese DJ and producer Shingo Sizuki has released a very impressive debut album recenlty, featuring collaborations with west coast heavyweights Moka Only, Blu, and Thirdiq, in addition to a number of bangin instrumental tracks. Some of the best instrumental hip hop I have heard in a long time. looking forward to a follow-up Mr. Sizuki!
5.) The new Cassius album, "Youth Trouble Speed Cigarretes", though only 4 or 5 songs long, features some fantastic tracks that rank of there with anything on '15 Again", including the title track, "Y.T.S.C", and "Almost Cut My Hair." Almost like Phoenix meets Ratatat meets The Rapture..... except better than that would be.
6.) Mark Farina's Mushroom Jazz series has always been good, but unfortunately never that consistent, often straying into mediocre jazz takex on elevator music. His latest, however, Mushroom Jazz 6 [along with the previous fifth volume] are refreshingly packed with instrumental and remixed takes on songs but underground hip hop acts like Strange Fruit Project, Pete Rock, and Thes One of People Under The Stairs. The production my Mr. Farina is great as always, and the overall cohesion and feel of the album is a lot more solid, making for an enjoyable listen from start to finish.
7.) So a few years ago, Cincinatti DJ and recordhead extraordinaire Boom Bip decided to get together with Super Furry Animal's Gruff Rhys [what a name huh?], and the result was Neon Neon, an albeit short-lived but awesome project which yielded the album "Stainless Style", a shameless rip-off of some corny 80's nostalgia, but with standout tracks like "I Told her on Aldernann" or "Raquel", who cares? You'll be magically transported back to 1986, and it's guarenteed to put a smile on your face. Pick up this album if you have not!!
8.) Trippy, slightly video game-ish Norwegian electronica: That's right, there's more than just Lindstrom, Prins Thomas, and Royksopp: Check out Skatebard [missing the little 'o o' above the a, but you get the idea] as well as Trentmoller, for the type of surreal music you could see coming out of a cold, desolate gray land filled with mystical trolls, waterfalls, and H&M wearing young people who look like supermodels.
9.) You know how sometimes you get really intensely into an artist and then kind of hit a plateau and lose interest to where you hardly listen to them at all anymore? Then 6 months later they come on your Ipod on shuffle and your like "damn! this is great!!" That's kind of how i feel about Tennessee's indie-electro group 'VHS or BETA' . I saw them play at Club Congress, my favorite bar in Tucson, AZ when I lived there in spring of 07.' I bought pretty much everything they made and loved it. Then forgot about them for a year or so. No I'm remebering how good they are. Check them out!! "Bring on the Comets" and "Le Funk" are particularily great.


So that concludes my rave on random music I find enjoyable.

something I've been thinking about lately is a sort of "Best of Boulder" list; albeit very subjective, but I think based on a fair amount of research and personal experience. Ah, whatever, enough justification, here's my best of Boulder list ,a a work in progress:

Best coffee:
I was going to say this was a tie between the Trident Cafe in the Trident Bookstore and 'The Cup', but then I realized I was being to cubjectively weighed my the atmosphere and overall ambience and not judging based soley on coffee quality, in which case it's pretty tough to beat downtown's Amante Coffee. Their pastry's are pretty damn yummy too.

Best Place to watch 30-something singles awkwardly [or not so awkwardly] break it down on the dance floor: The B.Side Lounge. They occasionally have great music in the small, intimate backroom stage too. Their house DJ is generally pretty clutch [yeah, I just said that.] too.
A great place to either start of end an evening of drinking in Boulder.

Best place to mingle with bro's, hipsters, homeless people, and the occasional old guy: The Sundowner [aka the scumdowner] Saloon. This palce get's lauded as a "dive bar", but obviously in Boulder there is no such thing as a true Dive Bar, at least on Pearl, so we have to settle for this. Given, the beer is pretty cheap for Boulder standards, and the music is generally ok, this can be a pretty fun place to get moderately drunk on a Thursday night. Beware, though.... it's always packed.

Best Record Shop: Bart's Record's and Cd World on Pearl. You will find some true eccentrics, diggers, and recordheads at this place, along with a great, dedicated staff who is passionate about music and helping you find that obscure early 80's Radiohead LP that no one else has ever heard of. Ok, so I digress, but seriously, Bart's is awesome, as are their prices [geberally], and if you can relax your upper lip a bit and buy CD's in addition to all that trendy vinyl, there are some killer deals to be had, especially is the used sections. The upper floor vinyl area has a great selection with a lot of rare stuff at reasonable prices; do expect to pay a premium though for "hot" new releases by "it" artists for the Boulder hipster set; ie the latest LCD Soundsystem or Hop Chip album.

Prime time of your life

Is now.

Love that Daft Punk Song.  "Human after all" was such a good album.... perhaps second only to "Dsicovery".... sadly it's kind of been downhill since then, but I still love me some Daft Punk.

On an unrelated note, here are some of my favorite Podcasts to check out: 

1.) 'My Name is Tiga' by Tiga.  Free and fun.  Look it up on Itunes or Tiga's Website.  Tiga is a DJ and electronic artist from Montreal who has been in 'the game' as a DJ and producer for over 2 decades, though his most recent solo albums, "Tiga" and "Ciao!" have gotten him a lot more well known in the Indie scene.  His podcasts are full of great, honest, somewhat cheesy humor and self-deprecating jokes and you can't get the impression that this mysterious French-Canadian star of the indie/electro scene is really just a nice, regular guy; albeit a damn good musician.

2.) Diplo's "Mad Decent Radio".  Ok, so Diplo is a pretty much a household name for anyone in the DJ world, or should be, given his mind-numbing remix skills and live sets.  Anyways, his Podcast series, "Mad Decent Radio", is equally awesome, not to mention incorporating an obscene number of different genres, I mean, he has a has a podcast based on Dutch Reggae from the Netherland Antilles!? WTF?! And it's actually good when mixed and mastered by him is the thing.  I mean, his main squeeze was M.I.A for a while, so you know this cat has style.

MadDecentRadio.com

3.) Ed Banger Record's Podcast series.  You might know Ed Banger as the Label Justice is signed on; but they have a lot more talent than that on their payroll, including DJ Medhi, Uffie, Busy P, Surkin, Feadz, and Sebastian.  So pretty much all the best Parisian electronic music.  their podcasts feature exclusive new remixes, great commentary/hosting by Ed Banger artists, and cheesy French accents.  A recipe for awesomeness in other words.  Available Free on Itunes.

4.) So this isn't a podcast, but I feel compelled to mention A Touch Of Class Records here, because they seem to always get overshadowed by their counterpart, DFA Records, when, despite not having the big names like LCD Soundsystem or Hot Chip, have some very talented musicians, such as The Ones, Waldorf, and who could forget the Scissor Sisters, haha..... ok so not the greatest Scissor Sisters fan, but other than that they have some amazing music, very danceable and discotheque-ish without being mainstream-dance-ish, an impressive[ly vague description by me] achievement.

Ok.... That's it for now.... will update this soon-ish? Much love until then! -Phil.

9/17/09

Check out this new video by Mayer Hawthorne:

This is for the song "Maybe So, Maybe No" one of my favorites off his new album, "A Strange Arrangement".  Love the scenes where he is kickin it with his record store friends, spinn vinyl and a backyard bbq, and hanging with some Venice Beach skaters! A real slice of everyday life framed around an amazing song.  love it.

This is a new version of Sam Sparro's 'Pocket" remixed by fellow Australian indie electro band 

The Presets... Great sound and an improvement on the original in my opinion! If you have not 

picked up Mr. Sparro's debut album, "Black and Gold", do so immediately; his soulful voice, 

tight beats and danceable soul with get you moving.

This next video is by French Electronic artist 'Para One', who

I have been listening to a bit lately, this infectious and distinctly 

French song is called "Piste Bleu" and is on their superb new 

album, 'Epiphanie". Check it out! They are signed on Institubes,

I believe.

OK, SO ATLANTA-BASED REMIX GENIUS'S TREASURE 

FINGERS HAVE DONE IT AGAIN WITH THIS REMIX OF 

CHROMEO'S '100 PERCENT'. HOT!!

Speaking of Chromeo.... check out this remix of their song

"Call me up" by L.A's 'Kill The Noise': If this doesn't get 

you dancing, something is wrong with you:

Also recently heard this remix of French bearded romantic 

Sebastian Tellier's song "Kilometer" by A-Trak, better known 

as the mustache-eod half of Chromeo's brother. Great mix!!

I also REALLY love German electronic artist Siriusmo,

I first heard of him through Itunes list of songs endorsed 

by Parisian DJ Surkin, as referenced in his remix of David 

Rubato's "Circuit" [great song ruined by creepy vocals, 

but the first minute makes a killer sample loop]. Anyways,

so despite this roundabout introduction, I was quite smitten 

by his sleek synth skills:

I think I've already raved about how much I love French-Canadian 

Indie rockers "Malajube", but in any case, here is the video to one 

of my favorite song's off their sophomore album, "Labyrinthes". 

Check them out!!

One more Malajube song: this is the main single from their last album, 

"Montreal -40C." With a title like that, who could resist this song.  

Who cares if all the lyrics are in French? The music is beautiful.

Ok, one last song I can't get enough of: This is off Swedish Producer and DJ Andreas Kleerup's new project,

also called "Kleerup", and is amazing:

Quarter Size chunk of my knee missing.... I'm fine though.

So I was out in Moab Utah this past weekend on a fantastic field trip for a strucutral geology class.... great trip and great people as always. I feel priveledged to be able to take such amazing classes where I'm getting collegecredit to hike around and explore one of the more spectacular places in the world. On this trip, we spent the first day of the trip looking at the Moab Fault in it's exposure along the highway outside the Arches NP visitor center, trying to decipher a very complex and intrigueing series of normal faults with associated drag, longitudinal flexure, and other nerdy terms I won't bore you with. In the afternoon we drove quite a ways out into the desert to look at a Graben [down-dropped block of rock bounded by normal faults, resembling an elongate valley with vertical sides] near the Green River. The next day, we drove up Onion Creek in the Fischer Valley north of town, to look at some salt structures. Onion creek is a spectacular and rather hauting landscape of eroded finds, spires, and towers of Cutler Sandstone, a rock mostly resmebling petrified mud. The creek cuts through a series of rocks leading down to the Paradox Formation, an evaporitic caprock on overlying halite beds which have pushed through the denser, overlying sandstone in a phenomena known as diapirism, breaching the surface and erdoding into surreal, multi-hued badlands type slopes. On Sunday, we took an hour and a half scenic flight over the Moab region, which is one of the more memorable experiences I've had lately... the scenery from the air is indescribably vast, beautiful, and strange.

Postscript.... I also hit up the annual Moab Gem & Mineral Show, which I had forgotten was this past weekend as well, and despite the vast predominance of petrified wood and plishjed dinosaur bone-type dealers, did manage to find 2 fantastic, very reasonably priced specimens. The first is a very nice Aquamarine Berly crystal from the Erongo Mountains in Namibia, and is about 5 x 4 x 4.5 cm., it's an etched crystal on the back but has a perfect, very lustrous, gem termination, with really good dark blue color for Erongo... a steal at $100.
The Second is a beautiful 4 xd 2 cm. indicolite tourmaline crystal embedded in the termination of a quartz crystal; at first it looks almost black, but hold it up to the sun and it is in fact totally gem dark blue; was $9o originally and I got it for $40; so stoked!! Photos to come.


Ok, now that I have you all on the edge of your seats, hah, I'll explain the rather ominous post title. So while the weather in Moab was perfect [mid-70's and sunny all weekend], the weather a mere 350 miles away in Boulder was predictably atrocious, with temp's getting down to the 20's(!!) and around 3 inches of snow, highly unusual but not unheard of for this time of year. Biking to class this morning, I was in a rush to get to the library, so that for once I could have my morning Latte in less than a rushed 8 minutes[If I'm paying 4 dollars for a fucking latte, I want to be able to sip it casually and people-watch/pretend to do homework for a good half hour at least, ya dig?] Anyways, so was cruisin up the 13th st. bike path past Arapahoe when BAM! black ice patch!! I must have been going a good 15 at least, so I slid quite a ways and ended up taking a pretty good digger.

Perfectly fine except a 2-inch hole ripped in my red vans jeans.... fuckk.. I liked those jeans too.... perhaps god's way of saying stop wearing super skinny jeans? I though all was fine when I realized my knee under the rip now resembled the color of my jeans... just a bad scrape though, a couple bandaids did the trick just fine. [side tangent, what's whith the bandaids at Wardenburg Health Center on campus that read "I bleed gold?" last time I checked I bleed pretty effing bright red, and I coukld care less about CU athletics. So, there's my morning.... guess I look pretty "hardcore" now with my big rip in my pants and multiple bandaids.... wasn't there something a while back about the "cool kids" applying bandaids to non-existant wounds to look badass? Well there ya go. Go me! Photos to come?


On another unrelated note, here's some music I can't get enough of lately:

1.) ok, so this is going to sound really lame, but there's this now-defunct electro-punk collaborative between this Russian chick and a British producer called "Salon Boris" thats actually pretty good.... check out their song "Everybody's talking about retro", kind of like a slightly edgier B-52's.... is that bad!? Oh well, I like it.

2.) DFA Record's stuff that nobody has heard of, see: Waldorf, Soulwax remixes, 33 Hz, The Ones, and Xavier. Ok, so some of this borders on shitty dance music, but the beats are way more bangin than anything I've heard DFA counterparts The Juan Maclean or even LCD Soundsystem make. Also slightly less dripping in elitist hipster approval.

3.) Hudson Mohawke. Nobody makes beats like them. Seriously. Like if you locked Onra, Flying Lotus, and J.Dilla in a room together and gave them some drugs and a sampler, this is what you would get. Their new album "Butter" is getting ready to drop in a few weeks on October 27th [my 23rd birfday!] and I am pretty excited for it. Their last album, "Polyfolk Dance", is a real trip. "Overnight" would be a Billboard hit if Kanye was rhyming [does he still do that?] over it. Thank god he's not!

**Upcoming Show's I'll be attending [time/money willing] in the Denver/Boulder Area**

10/22: Zion-I at the Fox Theater. Based on how they played when I saw them at Cervantes in Denver last April, it will be worth enduring the small army of bro's and associated ho's that will descend on the Fox Theater for this show. Not a huge fan of their new album, but regardless they are one of the best live act's in hop hop today.

10/25: Kraack & Smaack with Fort Knox Five at the Fox Theater, Boulder. This is going to be a great show. These guys are conveniently under the bro-dar but have deservingly been compared to Mark Farina and even the more danceable/eclectic Thievery Corporation tracks, and have a great mix of trip-hop acid jazz and retro funk samples, guaranteed to maker people dance.

11/6: Del is apparently playing a *free* show at the Larimer Lounge in Denver at midnight?! Sounds too good to be true.

11/4: Deadmau5 at the Ogden: due to recent bad experiences with 16+ shoes at the Ogden, and the fact that I'm not really into ecstasy and glow sticks, I don't know if I'll be in attendance at this one; but I will tell you it id guaranteed to be a damn good time.

11/12: Ghostland Observatory and DJ Boyhollow [of lipgloss fame] at the Ogden, Denver. Not sure about this one either. Ghostland is good, but it just depends on how much it is. plus, I can go see boyhollow spin @ lipgloss on any given Friday for 6 bucks.

11/8: The Dirty Projectors at the Bluebird theater in Denver. Probably the most pretentious thing that's happening all fall in Denver music. will I be there? Probably.

11/7: J-Live @ the Marquis Theater in Denver. I lover J-live. Finally a show I'm genuinely excited for!!

That's all for now kids. Much love, Phil.

It's raining

It's raining in Boulder... as I should expect it to do periodically, I suppose we are fortunate to have such a generally mild, sunny climate I get easily annoyed by the occasional rain. I was reading somewhere that the Front Range Denver/Boulder region in Colorado receives something like 300+ days of sun a year on average; rather remarkable really when one the world-class skiing/whitewater paddling ect... in the mountains immediately to the west. I could get all nerdy and go into the atmospheric and meteorological phenomena that allow this to occur; but I will spare y'all haha.

Anyways, I was meaning to use the rain thing as a sort of pseudo-segway into my fascination with music/place associations. I'm sure it's common knowledge that the human brain builds strong, emotionally and even physically stimulating reactions to certain songs/artists et cetera, and a particular geographic place. If I knew more of the social sciences I suppose I could elaborate on this more.

So yah... I was listening to one of my favorite album's lately, California beatsmith Metaform's, "Standing on the Shoulders of Giants", and had this intense place-association moment with a drive I did out to L.A last spring when I was living in Tucson. I remember I had been DJ'ing at the University of Arizona's KAMP radio, and had found Metaform's CD in the "freebie bin" of albums we usually had sitting around the studio.... don't know how/why on earth it ended up there, but anyways I took it and quickly fell in love with it on the drive out to L.A the next weekend. It must have been close to 2 AM as I cruised west across the Mohave Desert, past Palm Springs, and into the eastern burbs of L.A.... a very surreal experience when done for the first time, you literally are in one of hottest, driest, and most inhospitable places in the country, and then all of a sudden you crest this pass and there is the sprawl and excess and light pollution of L.A pushing all the way into the Pacific Ocean; very trippy.

This particular song came on right as I was heading into downtown L.A [of course, being me I missed the exit for the 101 north to Hollywood where my family lives]. The funny thing is I love this track and have listened to it untold times, but only know it as "track 10." Some hidden irony perhaps? Anyways, downtown L.A at night is a very surreal experience, it is literally a ghost town half-populated with homeless people and druggies, and the vertical expanse of the Bank of America tower, the tallest building west of the Mississippi, sort of overshadows everything else in an ominous way. I recall making a detour off the 405 through a slightly sketchy neighborhood and somehow winding my way up to Laurel Canyon Blvd. and to my relative's place; the smell of Hibiscus, Avacado trees, and eucalyptus in the air with the slightly wet, lush early morning fog blowing in off the Pacific; among this comically dense clustering of homes, every one unique, on the steep, eroding slopes of the Hollywood hills; what a place. This concentration of wealth and power and creative humanity equaled in so few other places, no wonder I have such a strong music association with my first trip there.

Another strong music/place association I have is this past summer, traveling up to the fishing village of Stonington on Deer Isle, Maine to lead an 8-day sailing trip for a group of 12-14 year old boys. I had just downloaded a couple remixes, the Linus Love's mix of Ladyhawke's "dusk till dawn" and the Cut Copy mix of her song "Paris is Burning", both rather anthemic indie-pop ballads, and I just remember driving down the island to the cove where we were putting the boats in, and somehow those 2 songs just fit perfectly with the puffy white cloud's in bright blue sky, greenish-teal water dotted with little pine-green islands, and little clusters of stoic New England houses here and there. Ok, I know, gag me with your corny, romanticized descriptions and Maine, but it really is a lovely place in the summer; and the next 8 days of Sailing were some of the best I've ever had; so why not associate a great song with a great experience? Exactly.

This brings me in a roundabout way to a list of "noteworthy stuff y'all should get on":

Alright, one two one two, here we go:

1.) Anoraak, College, and Valerie. These 3 electronic artist's from the illustrious Cote D'Azure in southern France have perfected the heady, rich, and slightly self-indulgent sound you would associate with a place known for Cannes and Monaco. Their synth arrangement's make Sebastian Tellier sound profoundly un-sexy.

2.) Mexican Institute of Sound! Woo! Becuase whop deosn't love a Mexican hipster who wear's chucks and blazers and makes music that sounds like if LCD soundsystem took a month-long soul retreat in a Mexico City barrio? The pairing of synth's, harsh monotone electronic chords, authentic Mexican mariachi sounds and lyrics, and anthemic guitar riffs is pretty freaking awesome. His new sophomore album comes highly recommended.

3.) Vancouver hip hop artist Moka Only's new album, "Airport 3" has some gems on it, most notably a collaboration with The Pharcyde's Bootie Brown on "Crazy", featuring a bangin Moka beat as usual. I know several pretty big hip hop heads who have told me they have been wary of Moka Only becuase he is just so damn prolific.... I mean this cat has released something like fifteen(!!) albums, and I don't mean like a single and a few fillers, like full-length, your getting your money's-worth records. Other noteworthy tracks on 'Airport 3' include "Gotta Wonder", and "Gimmee", Featuring Psy. I've been a huge Moka fan forever; it seems he really doesn't get the recognition he deserves outside of the Canadian hip hop scene.... which I must say is pretty baller, with artists like D.L Incognito and Toronto's K-OS. Moka's best album's "Flood", "The Desired Effect" [part's 1 & 2], and "Vermillion" are up there with most other big hip hop albums of the past decade in my opinion. His use of old-school analog beats and keyboards, drum loops, and well-placed jazz samples is superb as well. He also sell's beats, 16's, and does film scoring for you musical peoples out there.

4.) The Avalanche's "Since I left you". Ok, so this isn't exactly new per say, but I really think this is the 2nd best sample-based album of all time, after Dilla's "donuts". This Melbourne-based collective reportedly utilized over 3500(!!) different samples in constructing this album, ranging from old T.V commercials and radio jingles to obscure jazz pieces and soul bits. A real masterpiece of what can be done with a sampler, some creativity, and a LOT of time. much respect.

5.) Mark Farina's "Mushroom Jazz 5" is undoubtably the best of the Mushroom Jazz series.... so you can imagine  my excitement when I scored this 21 track opus for $5.99 at Bart's Records earlier today in Boulder.  Much love to Bart's for always having some great deals on classics. Cool people that werk there too.  Anywayzz.... so yeah this album features instrumentals and rare b.sides by Strange Fruit Project, Thes One, J.Boogie's dubtronic science, People Under The Stairs, and The Jazz Liberatorz, to name a few. All overseen my Mark Farina's legendary production skills. Cop this album now people!!!

That's all for now.....Peace, Phil.

Concert Update

Quick dispatch on a few good show's I'll be attending in the next week or so:

Portugal. The Man is playing tonight, October 2nd at the B.Side Lounge in Boulder, yes, you read that correctly, a very small/intimate venue for them, I was rather surprised when I read this. Even more so when I heard they are playing a second show the following night at the B.Side as well. Tickets are cheap [10-15 dollars-ish?] and will likely sell briskly so buy early. Looking forward to seeing the best thing out of Wasilla Alaska since Sarah Palin!

Next Wednesday, October 6th[?] I believe, Argentinian guitarist and songwriter Federico Aubele will be playing at the Bluebird Theater in Denver, 15 dollars I believe. Mr. Aubele recently released a new album, which show's a trend away from the trippy, acid-jazz and dub-influenced production of his previous works, no doubt heavily influenced by their association with ESL records, and production by Thievery Corporation. I actually have to say I prefer his first 2 albums to his most recent work, I think his brilliantly complex guitar riffs and melodies pair very nicely with TC's production, yielding an ethereal, sophisticated, yet also distinctly Latin sound. Needless to say I am excited for this show!!

Now I'm off to listen to the dopest beat ever made, Parisian beat junky Onra's "My Comet" on the bike ride home through Boulder.

Oh and as an afterthought here's some new musiq I can't get enough of lately:

1.) Swedish Indie-pop trio Miike Snow's new self-titled album.  Filled with exceedingly catchy but also fairly robust and well-produced pop songs, this is the best Swedish pop album since Kleerup's "Kleerup" [what is it with these self-titled Swedish pop albums? oh well, not complaining cuz the music is so damn good!].

2.) Anything by New Order. Ok ok, I know this isn't exactly "new" music, but sometimes I think New Order doesn't get the recognition they deserve for being one of the most influential, accomplished, and brilliant pop bands of the past 20 years.  Their sounds is complex, but also extremely approachable and likable, and has a unique character you can follow throughout their entire discography; an impressive feat for such a prolific group.  Better than Joy Division? Quite possibly.

3.) French-Canadian indie band "Malajube".  These guys are incredible.  Their sound immediately makes me want to compare them to fellow Quebecois rockers "The Stills", or perhaps even Minus The Bear or The Walkmen, but a more thorough listen reveals an amazingly developed and diverse sound, with everything from sonic lo-fi jamming to high-energy ballads.  While I don't usually put much stock in Pitchfork Media's ratings, I will say they gave their sophomore album "Trompe L-Oeil" a very favorable review, and even included it on their best-of-2006 album list.  Their most recent album, "Labyrinthes" is an impressive follow-up, and is very likable.  These guys have gotten pretty big in the Quebecois indie scene, but alas, have yet to make much of an American impression.  Perhaps it's the strictly Francophone vocals [yes, I understand very little, but mostly it just makes it more beautiful].  In any case, they get my recommendation for  listen.

4.) Did I already say I love Detroit  hop hop head turned neo-soul crooner Mayer Hawthorne? Oh Yeah, he's the shit.

5.) Just a few random notable tracks from the abyss of the blogosphere:

L.A's DJ Classixx is setting up to be one of the best remixer's of 09', check out his songs "I'm on it" and "Cold Act Ill" for a good idea of his style.  He has also worked with Jeppe of Junior/Senior as well as Phoenix.

 A few tracks by uber-talented remixer's "Treasure Fingers" to check out: "Don't be on with her" [Treasure Fingers Remix], Miami Horror.  "100 Percent" [Treasure Fingers Remix], Chromeo.  Most of these track's can be found on the Hype Machine [hypem.com], youtube, or Last.fm.

6.) Rio De Janiero's funkiest retro-electro duo, "Database", these guys kind of sound like if Chromeo took a trip back to the 70's and came back with some groovy beats.  Particularly good [and available as free last.fm downloads!!!] are "Dance like 107", "Realce", and "Turn Your 

Love Around Benson."

Words with other words make sentences make poems make life

This is an original short story I wrote a few years ago: *disclaimer*: corny, self-indulgent, and generally trashy, but read on if you want:

~'A Study in Mysticism'~

He was alone. Not in the physical sense, forget not the untold dozens of adamantly obsessive watchers who would love just to breath the same air as him, but in that winding, heavy way the soul gets tired over time. He was never one to rest on his laurels and mope, though, always seeking greater and grander schemes to escape reality and grasp the hidden significance of moments that slid like sand through a sieve. The clockwork of his mind ran with chaotic precision, tuned mostly to another world which did not reconcile itself well with the one we dwell in. Whoever it was it who once said all great men must be alone and stand as rocks, as islands forged in raw courage against the inhumanity of the masses? He obviously was never particularly great or lonely, just alone. "Why must I live out this cruel mockery of time and place so endlessly alone?" thought the man, a boy really, new to the ways of the world in his 23 years.

They met late at night. The circumstances that brought them there were really remarkable and insignificant at the same time, because this and now was the time and place and purpose. Their eyes wandered on meaningless ramblings and trivialities of life until, as time beckoned inevitable departure, their eyes locked and time in all it's weary trodding stopped for a moment. His world froze and and drew close and fixated on the only living thing in the universe right now, this person across from the couch who was alive, with great heaving slabs of sculpted vitality, muscle and sinew taunt with life, discipline driven out of the wilderness that separated them, until now. Lips tasted of kindness and humble focused want held tight within the creases of the sheets, eyes furious and alive.

8 Months had passed since that fateful evening, and he sat alone again, on the edge of the great divide that ran past the foyer and into the study and on to the great crashing, gnawing sea that ate at the cliffs far below. The gulls cawed and circled the somber gray seaweed-covered rocks lashed by a mean salty spray which burned with life and zest, something he could use a bit of right now, he thought with bemused irony. Why she had left him was no surprise, even to him ,the designer of all grand illusions and escapes from reality. He was a hopeless dreamer, and worse, one who recklessly gave his love half-heartedly to those who claimed to seek it, only later to retreat in haste from commitment or bonds. "So I lied", he thought in bittersweet recollection over the last drops of lukewarm Chardonnay and a day-old sandwich, courtesy of the cook off to town for the weekend. "But what a magical tale of heroism and daring character I wove anyways", he reconciled, only half-ironically. "Besides, lies rule the world", he added in afterthought. "The truth has always been secondary."

The truth of course was that he lied to her not in in words but in dates deferred, a polite hug and a peck on the cheek rather than the lustful embrace she longed, and other such emotional ways of distancing himself from her. She had tried and tried, bless her, weekends in Monterrey, Palm Springs, Aspen... sailing in the Virgin Islands, horseback riding in the Tetons, fly fishing in Alaska... nothing ever seemed to spark real life in him, life for her, into those hazel eyes forever burning with that furious focus, but alas not for her. He was solitary, an island by choice perhaps, a half-hearted crusader against the injustice and ingratitude of the world. She of course has been gorgeous, in the conventional way, but nonetheless gorgeous, worldly, well-spoken, and, as his obnoxious parents might have said, "of the right blood." They were great friends, certainly, and despite her hopelessly broken heart, still spoke often, though now on dry, seemingly anesthetized terms; 'purely business' types. Deep in his soul though, under than brilliant, zany intellectualism for science and nature, that boyish charm and sculpted good looks she fell for, was a soul laid bare and hollow for the world or those that cared to see.

He was forever restless, listlessly ambivalent on certain matters and cunningly decisive on others. They had grown up not far from each other, her in Greenwich and Bar Harbor, and him in Oyster Bay and Blue Hill. The latter establishments, of course, were family summer homes, though not like the bad outtake of an Evelyn Waugh novel his friends imagined. Theirs was a wealth carefully cultivated over many generations, navy blood and crimson-tinged New Yorkers and suburbanites who managed to keep a refined indifference to wealth . He was in his last year at Bowdoin, she a rising junior at Middlebury. It was by default a party-arranged romance conspired by their obsessive, slightly neurotic parents; long time friends in the New York upper crust tradition. They had sailed together as children, had played tennis and swam in the teal sparking waters of the boat club pool, oblivious to this obscene privilege, just kids being kids when thinking about tomorrow is like thinking about the end of the world. They left reluctantly to preparatory school at the zenith of their youth, establishing a new identity among the throw-away trends of the "cool kids" and life away from home. Here they were in college, college! this supposed apex of youth and possibility and want, studying largely meaningless, obscure liberal arts perusals. Not as if any of it really mattered; a life of comfort and modest fame awaited them as the family investments changed hands from one generation to the next. So it was in this placid chaos that he sat with broad shoulder blades facing the ocean, an observer of torrents of wind-whipped seas on which gallant sailboats and watercraft wove between the green islands, the American dream, an Andrew Wyeth painting personified. It was in this conscious reflection on the meaningless of it all that he decided his next move which might break these stifling doldrums that held everything static and musty, playthings in an attic of the mind.

He thought a mused a bit over the plight of the world over a good cup of coffee and then, quite suddenly and with an inspiration that surprised him, he threw on some old Carrharts, a flannel shirt [even in Maine, this cold in June couldn't be a good sign of the state of the world], and a pair of sandals, and departed down to the docks below. He deftly rigged the ancient canvas sails and ropes that draped over the deck on grandfather's old 28-footer, a hell of a sailboat even now, ragged at the edges and in need of some bad repairs. A light breeze ran nor'westerly out of the sound under bluebird skies and warm, burning sun. He let the sails billow out in the wind before bringing them in on a close haul and the craft heeled hard leeward as sea salt lashed the week-old stubble on his chin. His gold hair, matted and wild, stuck to his head in odd clumps, and now was swept back by the stiffening breeze out in the bay. He could see the harbor on the horizon, a faint cluster of bright, gaudy lobster boats. Cottages were lined up under somber pines along the waters edge, just as they had been just as they had been when they swam together in the cove, him and that boy with the crooked smile, who was now a man really, as much as he himself was at least, of 20-something years. No bother with the wants and expectations of the world, he used to think when they would lie together in the hammock on the beach and sip lazy summer lemonade. He was gone, studying geology or botany or something out in California last he heard, and those days had faded. He wad re-discovered her at an old family friend's dinner party and thought love might actually spark if he made it, and of course, sadly for her, it never did.

So it was with this ironic memory that he dropped anchor in under clear skies in the deep blue water of the island's harbor, whose dozen or so summer inhabitants were making morning breakfast or perhaps motoring in to the mainland for the Sunday Times and a loaf of bread. The old house was still there, a grandly decrepit Victorian affair with peeling lead paint and a subtle dignified grace that shone out on the ocean below. He tied up on the town dock, greeting a passing old man in a cardigan, waved at a young girl tending a little dingy on the beach, and climbed up the rickety wooden stairs to the island's only real street, a dusty maple-lined affair of a quarter mile or so. And there, sprawled in a huge white wicker chair on the deck of that old Victorian, was the boy, reading and sipping lazily on that same lazy summer lemonade of 3 years ago. His heart stopped and would have ejected itself from his body had the lump in his throat not stopped it. He felt a tear well in the corner of his eye but summoned his most brash, manly demeanor and told himself to stop this foolish nonsense, this embarrassing show of emotion. How many years had it been? Two, three? The summer between prep school and college, he remembered, they had spent on the island, drunk off cheap wine, good company, and plans to drown the world in drunken philosophy and grandiose schemes.

In any case, the manly indifference to emotion he was insinuating with all his might failed at the sight of that crooked smile, and he ran and they embraced and then suddenly took awkward steps back and shook hands, their eyes still caught in the moment though. He wondered why he never had this feeling around her, this lightheadedness. They spoke quietly at first, then in great bounding strides of conversation, catching up on all the little nuances and life's details that exposed themselves in the three and a half years they had been apart. Things had changed, in ways they found hard to understand at first, subtle things that are manifested in lost time and place. He had been doing well he said, last year studying geography at Berkeley, busy with skiing and rock climbing up and down the west coast on time off school. He had almost been engaged six months prior but, alas, love that was probably forced to begin with fizzled and faded over lost commitments and time rather spent climbing mountains and exploring canyons. He too had that loneliness in his eyes, but kept close the shield against outward emotion, the protection of being constantly busy, school and work and the mind-numbing treadmill of society which didn't allow for things like love and regret.

They spoke of old times and how each other's families were, and for a moment it appeared as if the bright page in the novel of life that had come to such an abrupt end those years ago had magically re-opened. Alas though, those same heavy burdens and expectations of the world and codes of acceptance had to outweigh even that crooked smile, and they drifted apart again. Like the Arctic turns that rode over the salty chop as he sailed back to the mainland, so far from their home; on a journey programmed to take them away from the familiar, their paths had crossed and diverged. No one would even know of that night those years ago; that happiness which was mysterious and scary because it was so fucking real. In a way, he had not felt truly alive since, alive in the body and spirit; yes, but the soul, funny fickle creature that it is, stirred with unrest for what was forever forbidden to tell of.