Slipped the surly bonds of earth to touch the face of God
December 18, 2011 ::
7:06 PM
tate langdon :: american horror story :: s1x01 - pilot
Cleaning out the TiVo led me to a special on the 25th anniversary of the Challenger Disaster.
I don’t know about the rest of you, but I was watching it in Miss Freeman’s fourth grade classroom, curled up with Una, her Fidelco Guide Dog In Training. (She fostered the puppies so they could get socialized.) I’ll never forget the feel of the dog’s tongue as she licked the tears away. I became obsessed with it and I still have that scrapbook. It’s wicked thick, but it’s got articles from papers all over New England and from news magazines. It’s pretty comprehensive, actually. I even read the Rogers Commission report on the internet, and pieces of that were printed out and included.
Yeah. Obsessed is probably not a strong enough word… Kind of like my “interest” in the Salem Village (now Danvers) Witch Trials. (IT WAS NEVER ACTUALLY SALEM - except for their part in the political bullshit which triggered the ‘affliction’ in the girls. “Witch City” my ass.)
Anyhoo, so I turned on this special and suddenly realized it wasn’t CNN or anything national. Nope, it was from good ol’ WMUR, Channel 9, New Hampshire.
Nothing like watching basically an hour long memorial service to Christa McAuliffe, a teacher at Concord (NH) Nigh School.
I cried through the entire fucking thing, and then for an hour afterwards.
After all this time, after Columbia, after 9-11, after everything else I’ve lived through, the staying power of this one tragedy is astonishing.
“upstate” :: black mountain symphony @ mocha maya’s :: 2011
On my drive back from Oneonta, when I wasn’t thinking about The Thing or American Horror Story OR the Evan Peters look-alike… oh hold on. Gotta at least blog about him:
I practically lost my shit when I saw that kid - he looked like the dorky, young Evan Peters, from like “Phil of the Future” - and he was a fan of the band. If that had been the real Evan Peters, I would have been all like “J who?” Hey, it’s not cheating if they’re on the list, right?
Much better.
So, yeah, when I wasn’t thinking about those things, I was thinking about when Bear said he was going to start scheduling shows in the most obscure places to see if I’d show up. (I know a challenge when I hear one. Game on, Bear. Game. Fucking. On.)
That, of course, led to me crashing with Annie and Charlie for the second time and the deep conversations I’ve had with Annie, Rollz and Orion.
While I’m not part of the true inner circle, I have begun to feel like I’m part of them on some level. It’s just an offshoot of my passion for indie music. Thankfully, in this case, my passion and devotion to them is rewarded with hugs and secrets told in dark corners. The last time I got in this deep with a band, it ended badly for me.
I get nervous about that happening again. A lot.
But that’s not going to stop me from doing what I do…
It doesn’t matter how far I drive, or how shitty I feel. The second I walk into the venue, I feel like I’m surrounded by my family.
Seriously, even the girlfriends are happy to see me.
I’m in a schmoopy place to begin with because of the letter from YouKnowWho… but god, do I love those kids.
Went to Oneonta, NY last night to see Black Mountain Symphony play.
It was a bittersweet night.
I had planned on going anyway, but I’m especially glad I did… it’s not my place to say what happened, but some upsetting news was shared. I’m happy I was there to uh, well, see the show, and be in the loop. I guess.
On a happier note, I had a long talk with one of my two favorite drunk boys. He didn’t realize the chain of events he started back on Labor Day weekend, and it was nice to touch base with him. I let him know about the letters going back and forth, and we chatted about them. I ended up thanking him… pretty exuberantly.
I ended up spending the night at Annie and Charlie’s, instead of finding a hotel like I usually do. It was nice to spend the night with friends and dissect the… thing.
There’s a hundred other things I want to talk about, but everything is overshadowed by… GAH!
Fuck this. I’m going to play on Tumblr and obsess over Evan Peters until I forget about Saturday night’s bad thing.
