Beer and Pavement

Things Take Time, Take Time

Posted in Life, Records by SM on November 16, 2021

Courtney Barnett is singing to me. Well, she always has.

I don’t mean this in a creepy way. She just speaks to me, or at least her brand of songwriting does. And that’s never been truer than on her latest release, Things Take Time, Take Time.

From the opening drum machine tinny beats, I’m eased into Barnett’s drowsy depressive state down under. I’ve been listening to “Rae Street” for months, actually. It’s just that I finally heard it this morning when I went for a “run” for the first time in a long time, long time.

It seems Barnett was as depressed as the rest of us the last two years or whatever it’s been since COVID 19 ruined everything. Every track speaks to me, urging me to ease back into life. Cheering me on to not give up and maybe give this world another chance.

TBF, I’ve been getting back into the real world again. Slowly. But these things take time, at least that’s what Courtney says.

I started this pandemic off running daily. I hadn’t run in forever and suddenly I was running every day. I lost a bunch of weight in a short time until the rest of the world had to start up. Sort of.

Work wanted more of my time and the running suffered. My drinking didn’t. My sitting on my ass didn’t suffer. My aging body didn’t stop aging, deteriorating. And it wasn’t like my mood was going to just flip. These things still take time, but how much time?

Anyway, Courtney Barnett’s new record is out. I don’t have the physical vinyl copy just yet, but it’s streaming on my phone right now. She figured out how to make the drum machine work and it somehow added to her sparse and basic arrangements without losing the stoned nonchalance they always held. And somehow, I think the drumming (the real drumming) sound better on this record.

It’s a good record and, like I said, it speaks to me. I’ll hobble out the door tomorrow just after 5 am tomorrow morning with Things Take Time… playing in my ear. I’ll struggle through the first few tracks until the up tempo of “Before You Gotta Go” and “Turning Green” move my feet a bit faster. Well, I mean, I’ll run faster until my upper leg starts hurting again. Then I’ll wish I hadn’t given up on running back at the beginning of the pandemic.

The rest of the album is pretty rad as well. It tells me what I’m feeling and I’ll go on feeling it. I’m okay with that, mostly because songwriters like Courtney Barnett feel the same things, telling me I’m not alone in this. Eventually, I’ll come out of this. Eventually, I won’t hurt so much when I run. Eventually, well, you know… Things take time, or so I’m told.

Damn it, Jim!

Posted in Beer, Challenge, Intersections, Life, Meta by SM on April 15, 2013

Jim wrote a post for the Today Show – his side gig – and now I feel as if I need to write an update since he linked my name back to this blog. People are surely going to click through to this blog and find nothing’s up-to-date. I gotta get current.

I mean, I did promise more posts recently, but my life has been crazy as of late. I’ll start with some bits from an unfinished post and then bring you all up to date. Maybe I’ll kick this thing back into gear soon enough…

djbo

Several weeks ago, I was set to DJ between some great local bands (Coward, Dark Blue Dark Green) for the release of New Tongue‘s excellent and very well received We Are the Ones We Have Been Waiting For. Had things gone as planned, I surely would have penned a full review of the festivities and what I spun on some borrowed dex. Then, I earned the nickname DJ Blackout.

Before I was set to spin, I was sitting with some guys in a couple of the bands, finding it harder and harder to follow the conversation. Things got cloudy. I started to sweat profusely. I excused myself to get some fresh air. Several steps toward the door and everything went black. Something/someone hit me hard between the eyes.

I woke up on the floor, wondering how I got there. All I could think was that I had planned to stay in that night, but I must have gone on some legendary binge. Someone cold-cocked me… or so I thought. This apparently was not the case.

People were all around me, asking if I was okay. With some help, I stumbled to my feet and located my glasses a couple of feet away. Soon, friends were there to steady me and grab me a chair. Eventually, they moved me to a table with water and orange juice.

I honestly have no idea what happened. Later that night, I insisted my wife take me to the ER just t make sure nothing was wrong. That is not like me. I hate doctors and hospitals. I was still pretty out of it.

The doctors had nothing for me. I wish I could tell you that I blacked out from drinking some crazy high gravity beers or that some unknown rival drugged my drink or that I got in a fight over which Pavement album is best. None of that occurred. The EKG checked out and my heart was in the clear. The doctors finally determined that I was dehydrated and needed to take it easy.

See, I had been training for a marathon (April 7th) and had run 20 miles the previous Sunday but had not done a good job of re-hydrating over the course of the week. I felt lethargic for a few days after, but things seem to be back to normal and I should be able to run that marathon.

As for why I actually passed out, we may never know. My doctor took some blood and ordered some additional tests, but I doubt anything will come up. The ER didn’t give me an IV. So, I suspect they didn’t think I was all that dehydrated.

Who knows?

What the episode did do was make me think that maybe I need to lay off a bit. I’m DJing (periodically), training for a marathon, taking a grad seminar for a PhD program, taking on more responsibilities at work, blogging (sort of), and generally running all over the place.

So, to put it succinctly, I’ve been busy.

morningof

Fast forward a few weeks to said marathon. The weekend arrived and took it easy. My training had picked up a bit since the blackout incident. (BTW, my 4-year-old now know what “passing out” and E.R. are. So, there’s that.) I felt pretty rested. We had a nice dinner – pasta, of course. I planned to drink a low ABV stout or porter, but none was available. It’s April and bars are not serving many of these beers on tap. So, I opted for 4-Hands’ Reprise Centennial Red and Perennial’s Saison de Lis as they were the lower ABV options available on-tap. That and lots of water.

I barely slept that night, waiting for my 5 am wake-up. Once I did, it was canned coffee, a banana, and a Cliff Bar. I drank water from the time I left the hotel room, rode the MetroLink, and found the porta-potties. Then, I found my pacer (4:15) and waited.

So, I ran. There was the early pit stop to unload all those extra liquids (twice, actually). Anheuser-Busch was brewing and it smelled good – much like my kitchen or any brewpub on brew day. I climbed hills like a champ while others struggled. There was all the extra room when the half-marathoners turned to finish. I constantly cursed relay runners who raced by because they hadn’t yet run the 15-16 miles I had put in. Miles 18-20 was where I began to feel the pain and my pace dropped from that point on. Gatorade and those nasty gels made me nauseous. I turned down multiple shots of beer along the way…

I decided to run the final mile all the way to the end no matter what despite interspersed walking over miles 20-25. Motivation was given in the form of race volunteers telling us runners that it was all downhill to the finish. As I ran, I could see the bottom of this really long hill. The crowd was huge and I could make out some sort of line. However, as I approached, it was clear to me that this line was just some sort of shadow and the finish line was further up the next hill. And just before I reached the end of the hill, I realized that the finish was actually at the top of the next hill and that someone was cooking bacon. This all just made me more nauseous.

Still, I pushed forward. I later found out from my partner who was tracking my progress online that I picked up a ton of time on that final stretch. In my mind, I passed 100 or so people when it was maybe 5. Still, I finished strong. My daughter and wife were nearby to cheer me on and I finished within my predicted window of time.

Considering that I trained for maybe 5 months through the winter for my first-ever marathon – losing ~20 pounds in the process – I was pretty happy with a time of 4:22. I didn’t want any food or water or anything at the end, but I felt pretty good accomplishing a goal I set in the fall. Hell, I may even run another someday.

I eventually cleaned up, ate, and headed home with my family. Nothing tasted better than the beer I finally enjoyed hours after the race. It was my Black Francis Imperial Stout, made with cocoa nibs, vanilla bean, and charred oak cubes all soaked in bourbon. The 9.4% ABV nearly knocked me out for the day.

That night, we attended our first Supper Club event. Supper Club is a group of couples who wanted to attend dinner parties where everything was provided by the hosts. Our group was so large that we split it with a rotating schedule to insure that everyone gets an opportunity to host and eat with everyone else in the group. The first night was a success. I hope to report on the dinner we host this summer where I plan to unveil a new beer I still have to brew. Details to come.

Beyond that (and hinted above) I have been taking on a graduate seminar in Human-Computer Interaction. The big project due at the end of the semester is a small study on the subject. We have human subjects and IRB approval. So, shit’s about to get real. And I will have even less time to blog.

Bill Callahan is coming to town and I will be DJing a joint birthday party for 50-year-olds. So, there’s that.

And I’m updated. Hopefully, I’ll have more interesting things to say in future posts.