Virtually Home

Sometimes a moment in my life gets stuck in an album, like a mosquito in amber. From then on, hearing that piece of music reminds me strongly of being in another place at another time. Just after I moved to Bordeaux, Monsters of Folk released their eponymous record and I walked around the streets listening to it on my iPod repeatedly, relentlessly. Our washing machine was broken from the moment we moved in, and the repair process took an agonizingly long time. The sound of that album is the dryer spinning in the laundromat down the road from my house. It's the automated voice announcing stops on the tram on the way to the Université Bordeaux III for my linguistics classes. It's the long walk home from the guitar store where I bought the Cort electric-acoustic guitar I played that year (and which I recently gave away to a friend, to downsize my belongings before moving to Australia). This musical fossilization doesn't always happen and I can't always tell in real tim...

Jacob and Jessie on NYE 2018 was kind of a whirlwind. There were a lot of highs and lows, but mostly highs. I had some wonderful adventures this year. Here are some highlights. January Oberst with Taylor Hollingsworth of MVB We kicked off the New Year in the best way possible: by seeing a Conor Oberst concert in a California. Jacob and I flew out to Los Angeles and met up with friends from all over the country to see Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band play their first show in years. We caught up in line all day in the gloriously warm (by comparison with Minnesota) weather. We ate amazing Mexican food. And the show was brilliant -- the new venue in Silverlake was really cool and made custom cockatils for the show. Miwi La Lupa played a fabulous solo acoustic set to open. At midnight, the band played "Auld Lang Syne". The New Year couldn't have begun in a better way. That day turned out to be the last time I hung out with my friend Christina outside a ...

On Friday I woke up earlier than anyone should ever be awake the morning after a concert and I drove myself from Dallas to Austin, scrambled to a meeting on the University of Texas campus, and then headed to the home of my friends Stephen and Kim who had graciously agreed to put me up for the weekend. They weren't back from work yet, but I was able to change out of my dress clothes and get ready for festival-going. Just as I started to walk out the door, it started to downpour. Audibly. I stood and watched it for a few minutes. First, I contemplated the muddy horror the festival was about to become and adjusted that I just might be ruining both of the pairs of shoes I'd brought with me. Then I donned my trusty poncho and walked down the hill to Zilker Park. Zilker Park is a large expanse of gentle hills covered in soft green grass. Lots of people were taking off their shoes as soon as they got inside the gate, and I wondered how long the grass was going to survive the daily f...