Plus a Thanksgiving retrospective, through sound.
80Â° at the end of November. That in and of itself isn’t so bad, but it’s the ride back up the thermometer from the cooler depths that gets me. It’s like resurfacing too soon after diving deeply, though the feeling is inversed, I believe. As the thermometer rises my mind compresses in volume, but keeps it’s mass, and it feels as if there is just not enough room to hold all that’s in it. And so a race track pattern of thoughts start to form, continually whirring in some perverse order as to keep everything in there, lest it all spin out of control and fly away in all directions (and boy do we not want that). So sleep is hardly an option. Therefore I was surprised to find myself dozing off at 12:30 am or so this morning, but then was much chagrined to find that I was wide awake at 3, staring at the ceiling til 7, listening to the racetrack’s roar.
So yeah, the Thanksgiving holiday came, went, and took some great cold weather with it, much to my busy busy head’s displeasure. It was a great holiday, though, largely due to the wide range of music soundtracks that kept popping up along the way:
Who/What/Where – Cooking steaks at E’s, with the idea to have a nice lazy evening before her holiday family madness commences (plus I get to skip the post-work holiday traffic-fuck that is Baton Rouge on Wednesday evening).
The Soundtrack – I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One, by Yo La Tengo
Why – Because the album has the distinction of being one of the highest scoring scoring albums on both my ‘fall’ and ‘spring’ album lists, making it quite the rare breed. And it’s just that damn good.
Who/What/Where – A bluebird morning’s solo drive up to Brookhaven for the family Thanksgiving.
The Soundtrack – The Complete Stax Singles, Volume 2, by Various Artists
Why – Because when you have thoroughly cut out the part of the trip from Baton Rouge where you sit in holiday traffic for 2 hours , then you want Rufus Thomas to teach you how to do ‘The Funky Penguin’ out of sheer joy.
Who/What/Where – Me and a mostly full bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau, getting intimate in my parents’ den after a late evening Thanksgiving meal, since my brother and his fiancÃ©e were late arrivals from the coast. There’s no way I got plowed on what amounted to a little over a bottle of wine including dinner’s consumption, so I guess the tryptophan kicked in about the same time, as I woke up on the couch with Buster J the next morning.
The Soundtrack – The Brandenburg Concertos, by J.S. Bach
Why – Because I’d never heard them before and upon first listen found them to be of the exact tone and mood I needed to aid in my post dinner anesthesia. And, also, because they were played via the record player my brother and I gave my Dad for Christmas a few years back, meaning that I was listening to a record that my father likely purchased before I was ever born. The phonograph’s true aural child might be rock n’ roll, but there’s a warmness to classical also you just don’t get via digital means.
Who/What – Me and a bunch of my recently be-friended Baton Rouge cronies, boogy-ing down as you should on the Friday night after Thanksgiving.
The Soundtrack/Where – The Red Stick Ramblers, Live at Chelsea’s
Why – Because when the Ramblers play, you listen, and then you proceed to dance your ass off. And when the dancing has been preceded by LSU putting it to Arkansas in one of the most fun to watch/listen to SEC football games of the year and also by E’s (in)famous ‘3 Sisters Thanksgiving Dinner‘… Well, let’s just say that ’round about midnight those dancing started feeling it (we’re up to about 11 hours of drinking here, depending on whether you watched football or not) and I’m going to boldly suggest that the Rosedale Courthouse and the Red Tops on Christmas Night had VERY little on us.
So, there you go, 3 days of Thanksgiving holidaze, all strung together by 90’s indie rock, 60’s and 70’s Memphis soul, and some early 18th century classical, all rounded out by a live show of (and I’m stealing this straight from their website because I can’t begin to describe it like they do) “Cajun fiddle tunes, Western Swing, traditional jazz of the 1920s and 1930s alongside a steadily growing number of tradition-inspired originals.”
All right, that’s it. I’m beat. I think I’ll sleep tonight.