Last I wrote, I was settling into Portland life and getting ready for classes to start. Well, they started, and the settling in continues. I moved into my sweet bachelorette pad, only to be struck with a mild case of Stockholm syndrome-- which is to say I lived, with all of my belongings, in the tiny half-bedroom off the bathroom for the first month, rarely venturing into the rest of the apartment. After 3 years of living small, I was in love with it, and spreading out though an entire apartment had little appeal. In the last week, I have convalesced to the point of sleeping in the actual full bedroom, but I still haven't sat on the couch. I suppose it is not a bad thing to have loved trailer life so much, is it?
Classes have started, though I am not teaching until the second third of the semester. While I can, I am writing and finishing grants, preparing to teach, reviewing a paper, meeting students, doing faculty-esque type things, and trying not to let any of my colcollaborators down to terribly badly. I also am having a little fun. I went to Seattle and inherited a ton of Daphnia gear from my relatively-new-but-have-know-him-a-long-time friend Brooks Miner. He lived in Seattle with his wife, Anna Coogan (a very talented singer-songwriter) until last week, hence the need to run up there and get the goods that will launch my new lab.
This past weekend I went to my dear friend Steve's wedding in Council Bluffs, IA-- home of the almost famous squirrel cage jail, which I meant to go see but didn't. Next time I go to Council
Bluffs! Steve and his wife, Kelly, are fellow Lake Weekend attendees and the two of them, in addition to their many other wonderful qualities helped make this year the Year of the Human Pyramid Trick! Instead of just your run of the mill double head stand (which we did do, of course-- Rodenbeck on the left, me on the right), we went for the whole kit and caboodle this year and involved a whole crew in the quest for better tricks (Kelly bottom left, Steve on top of her; me bottom, right with Rodenbeck and his Herculean grip keeping the 2 tubes together, Turpin on top of us, and Shane as the flyer). I think we made it look easy. I assure you it was not.
The wedding was very fun, and I came back exhausted. Despite that, I couldn't miss out on a chance to go see John Prine with my family last night in Eugene, so I hustled down I-5 to meet them and catch his show for the first time, and it was SO fantastic-- I cannot recommend it enough. And if you haven't listened to your John Prine albums in a while, dig 'em out. And if you don't have any, email me and I will send you some. He is a charmer. And an old guitar hand from Bloomington who I have seen many times, Jason Wilbur, plays lead guitar for him so it was fun to see a familiar face in a new place. Given that John Prine's songwriting is solidly grounded in the school of 3-chords (maybe 4) that I also adhere to with dedication, it is a special pleasure to listen closely and focus on the lyrics, from which the title of this blogpost was taken. Absolute poetry, and the stories he told in between, mostly about where the songs came to him from, were so funny and interesting. My mom, my sister, and I all loved it and-- to our collective surprise I am sure-- kind of loved seeing it together. Serenaded by John Prine for the evening... can't ask for much more than that.
I said, "I've gone to two plays in the last 5 years." One of them paused quizzically, and said "...Yeah??" And I said, "And they were both The Method Gun." We high fived, and they continued their trot back stage. See it if you can.
