This is why I don't scare people.

'Tis the season. I still laugh every time I see this.

Happy Halloween.

-Jon

Juliet, Naked

I just finished the latest novel by Nick Hornby, called Juliet, Naked. Where to even begin with this one. Definitely worth the read. Hornby has such an incredible way with dialogue and metaphor. He communicates his ideas in such unique ways through his prose; everything he has written is informed with this very intelligent yet accessible use of words.

My favorite Nick Hornby book is still, and probably always will be, High Fidelity. It had the perfect voice of a messed up guy just trying to figure out his relationships, connecting everything in his life with music. The book speaks to me more directly than any other novel I've ever read. And while I liked that one more than Juliet, Naked, this was definitely the most entertaining of all his novels behind High Fidelity, probably because it's much along the same lines. The book is about an English couple who lead mediocre lives. The guy is Duncan, obsessed with the music of Tucker Crowe, a reclusive American musician whose last release (entitled Juliet) came out twenty years ago. Since Duncan is the regarded as the foremost authority on all things Tucker Crowe (he is basically in charge of the Tucker Crowe online forum/message board), he is sent an advanced copy of Juliet, Naked, an album of the demo tracks that eventually would become the tracks of Juliet. He writes a review of this new demo album, and this review is the impetus that sets a whole string of events in motion. That was maybe too long of a synopsis.

There are a lot of reasons why I liked this book. And one big one why I didn't. Let's get the negative out of the way. I didn't like the ending. Done. Now to the good stuff. It read better for me than any of his other books (with the exception of High Fidelity, of course). A big part of that is probably due to the musical nature of the content, which I really enjoyed. Hornby has this intimate knowledge of music, and just as important, he knows how to translate that knowledge to the page. It's incredible. And to hear his observations on music from different viewpoints was very cool. You've got the musician himself, the obsessed fan, and the non-obsessed fan, all with thoughts on the same album. Even cooler, it's not just a normal album, but demos from a critically-acclaimed, classic break-up album. There is an important and intriguing relationship between the recorded album versions of songs by an artist and the demos of those songs. Hornby explores that musical relationship to very interesting depths. And the voice of each main character seems right on. I obviously don't know what it's like to be a famous and successful music artist but it sounds right to me. I do, however, know a lot of how the obsessed and non-obsessed fans think and feel towards the music of their idol and towards the idols themselves, and Hornby has nailed exactly how these fans think and feel and talk.

One thing that I especially loved in this book is how Hornby breaks down the relationship between the fan, the art, and the artist. One of my favorite passages of the whole book is when Duncan's girlfriend Annie reads his review of the newly released Juliet, Naked (the demo album) and finally sees Duncan in a new light. It's such a brilliant exposition of fans versus their idols and the art they create and to be honest, it got me super worried about myself. I'm not an artist. I don't write songs that people listen to and enjoy. I don't write novels that people read and enjoy. Et cetera. Yet I'd say the majority of my blogs are my review of something, an album, a book, a TV show, whatever. And Annie's thoughts on Duncan's review are scathing, because while he writes thinking he is an expert on the music of Tucker Crowe and able to expound on his music with more authority than anyone else, she realizes that really he's just a pompous ass who reviews other people's work with a smug authority because he can't actually create anything of real value himself. As soon as I finished that passage, the passage where Annie realizes what Duncan's review actually says about Duncan as a person, I immediately read it again and then thought about how I write. It's a tad distressing to think that the writing you've spent a fair amount of time and energy on might just be a lot of hot air. It will, at the very least, make me think as I continue to write about things I'm into, or things I'm not into.

Back to the book. So there's lots of cool thoughts on fans, artists, art, etc. Also covered in great lengths is divorce and the relationship between spouses, exes, and parents and children, some close to home, some estranged. Hornby doesn't tread lightly around taboos, and it makes for very thoughtful writing. He challenges societal conventions, but not in a "let's tear the system down" type of way, in a rather subtle way. For example, he touches on the subject of the differing of parental love toward different children. And he handles the subject gracefully and makes sense in the way he writes. That's what I love about Hornby's writing. It makes sense. Even if you don't agree with him, you've never seen the idea presented from quite such a unique angle and it makes you think hard through what he's saying.

This is a great book; Hornby's written another gem. But don't take my word for it! (Dun nuh dun!)

-Jon

Sex & the City

Admission: I watch, and thoroughly enjoy, Sex & the City.

It's an admission not because I feel guilty about it (I don't), but
rather because it's uncommon. While I haven't polled lots of guys
about it, I still don't know many that would call themselves fans of
the show. The core audience is middle-aged, single women. But I'm
throwing caution to the wind here, and it's really a great show.

What the heck do I find enjoyable about it? It's relational. All the
best (or all my favorite) art draws somehow on relationships. Most of
my Top 10 Favorite Movies are, at their core, about relationships. And
I'm not just restricting this to romantic, heterosexual relationships.
SATC analyzes so many different kinds of relationships, romantic,
platonic, hetero-, homo-, parent-child, and on and on. Yes, there is a
nearly superfluous amount of sexual content on the show, but just
because it's called Sex & the City does not limit the breadth or scope
of its knowledge to sexuality. More often than not, it relates its
sexuality to relationships and how the two are intertwined. Makes for
an engrossing show.

Until the last few episodes Colleen and I watched, one of the things I
liked most about the show is that instead of indulging itself in the
ubiquity of the "drama"-filled TV story lines, each episode could
stand alone in an observation of some aspect of relationships. There
is the ever-present story arc of Carrie and Big's relationship, but up
until the last few episodes, that was less about stereotypical, soap
opera-esque "drama" and more about the real issues that the two faced
in their getting together, breaking-up, lasting feelings towards each
other, etc.

However, that important distinction was crushed in the last two
episodes we watched. Carrie is dating Aiden, everything is going
great, and Big finds his way back into Carrie's life. Spoiler alert:
she ends up cheating on Aiden with Big. Not that cheating doesn't
happen in real life, but I certainly don't want to see it pop up on
this show when it's on every other relationship show on TV. It's
unoriginal.

I still hold out hope for the show though. As long as this stupid
cheating story arc ends itself soon, I will continue to watch and
enjoy it. With that in mind, I probably wouldn't recommend it. While
it makes very interesting observations about relationships of all
sorts, its portrayal of life in Manhattan for the thirty-something
single woman seems fairly absurd. They are always eating out, always
out for a drink, always buying expensive shows, always having
uninhibited sex with whoever they want. I've never lived in Manhattan
nor even visited New York, but the lifestyle they depict just seems
far too good to be true. I'm fairly certain that in real life, all of
these women would be homeless, penniless, in debt up to their eyeballs
and just chock-full of STIs. No thanks.

But it's not reality is it? It's just fantasy and so makes for a great
thirty minutes of TV.

-Jon

An iTunes Update. Kind of.

Here's something cool. Pop into iTunes. Highlight your main music library, and organize it in a grid (the three buttons to the immediate left of the search field in the top right of the itunes box). Make sure you're viewing all albums or all artists. Now click View along the menu bar at the top, go down to "Sort Albums", and make sure that "By Year" and "Ascending" are checked. Now back under the View tab, go to "Grid View" and make sure that "Group Albums" is checked. Now you're looking at your iTunes library as chronologically as is possible.

I'm wondering how many people will think this is cool. Or how many people read my blog anyway. Regardless, I find this to be a cool way to look at the music you listen to. It's also started me thinking about music in terms of years. What year was most musically important to American culture? What year is most important to me in terms of my favorite albums ever released? It's an impossible question obviously, but still fun to think about. Based on the music I have, 1967 was a super important year. Aretha Franklin's debut album, along with the first two Jimi Hendrix Experience albums and The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper. I hope Apple eventually lets you incorporate months into the "year/date" classification of your music. I would have a hey-day.

Here's a breakdown of my library. My earliest dated music is from 1924, George Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue. It's the only classical piece I have in my iTunes. After that I've got Robert Johnson's Complete Recordings released in 1936, and then Miles Davis' classic album Birth of the Cool in 1949. After that, starting in 1954, my library really starts off. Here is the breakdown. Keep in mind this does include EPs and the few singles I have, so these numbers aren't exact. I have, however, taken into account double albums (e.g. The Beatles' White Album, etc.).

'50s: 22 albums

'60s: 67 albums

'70s: 80 albums

'80s: 22 albums

'90s: 50 albums

The Naughts: 269 albums

Year with the fewest albums: 1985 & 1988 (1 album)

Year with the most albums: 2006 (55 albums)

From 1954 to 2009, there are only two years for which I only have one album. That means for 53 years of music, I have at least two albums released in each of those years. Crazy. Interesting too that both years I only have 1 album were '80s years. Man did those '80s suck musically. They were such a weird transitional period, moving from disco and the birth of "hard" rock in the '70s to the oh-so-bubbly bubble gum pop era of the '90s. Don't know what it is about those '80s they just don't appeal to me. With the monumental exception of Stevie Ray Vaughan, one of my biggest guitar player influences.

So sort of a cool thing. You can listen through your library chronologically if you want. Or pick out a favorite song of the year. This will make it a lot easier to do "Best of the Year" lists from now on.

-Jon

11:12 p.m.

Monday night. Writing thank you notes. Drinking Busch Light. I hear rain outside and Vince Guaraldi inside.

No complaints.

-Jon

Are You The Goddess?

This video is starting to make the rounds; I've seen it on various websites, Twitter, that sort of thing, so I decided to jump on the band wagon and post the official The Next Hilarious Video. Somebody just took an awful video dating reel from the '80s and spliced it to make a montage of the worst possible clips. Get a load of these guys.

Whenever the guy who starts at 1:39 pops up, holy cow he says hilarious thing. Really though this whole thing is great. Happy Friday.

-Jon