Play and Listen

Today, i vacuumed my dog. as i was cleaning the house, he was following me around and i suppose felt that he was helping. at some point he lay down and the vacuum ran over his foot. (paw) he looked at me with what can only be defined as love. so i thought, well, he seems to enjoy this, maybe i should run it over him and see what he does. much to my surprise, he liked it quite a bit. every time i stopped, he looked at me longingly. i guess if i do this enough, maybe i can limit the amount i need to vacuum the house, as the majority of my work is cleaning up his hair.

i have concluded while staring into his glassy blue eyes, that one can learn much from these creatures. i am somewhat dumbfounded by the fact that there is a soul in this furry body, one that i have come to love. i find myself wondering how it is that we (humans) have (for the most part) become so human-centric. i look at my dog, and question both my existence and his. the fact that we are both here now, and will both one day be gone. in some way it seems so simple, but it somehow serves to make me simultaneously more and less afraid of dying.

if that it possible.

i suppose that is a koan of sorts. but who is this soul running around in a body of white fur i ask? who is this creature sitting on my couch, staring up at me and shaking his butt? what does he dream of? what does he fear? does he know that one day, he too will die?

i just returned yesterday from a trip to montreal where i spoke at a conference on improvised music and text. i'm not quite sure what to say about this, other than the fact the i love montreal and i wish there had been more music and less speaking. there is after all that famous quote (i believe it was elvis costello) who said that writing about music is like dancing about architecture. now in some way, dancing about architecture could be pretty cool, hell i have even done that to be honest, when mike and i were making the winter of the dance, but i don't know. i guess i just think that the best way to have a dialogue about music is to play and listen. Play and listen. funny how i played less music in graduate school than i have in years. something is wrong with that equation. i'm not sure what any of this has to do with my dog.

all said, i spent some time with friends and though i missed hearing more music, i did enjoy some of the lectures at the conference quite a bit. if nothing else, it is encouraging to know that people are getting together and talking about how improvised music might be capable of shifting culture. the simple fact that a research project exists on the topic is beautiful to me. something i am interested in for sure.

maybe i'll talk about vacuuming my dog at the next conference i attend. i suppose part of the absurdity comes in the fact that i should be "schmoozing" and meeting people at these things. for better or worse, i simply don't have a single thread of ability for that in my being. I never have. ah well. we are who we are.

The Price of Babies and Bootlaces

On Monday Keri and I received our “economic stimulus” check from the U.S. government. While I am certainly not well versed in modern economic theory, I can see immediately how this idea seems quite flawed. I understand the logic theoretically, but it just doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense practically speaking. In our case there is a rich irony. This irony is especially thick, opaque even, for the next piece of mail we opened was a bill from the hospital where our son was born four months past. It turns out that our insurance company paid for my wife’s time and services rendered while at the birthing center, but not my son. What? I cannot seem to find any logic for the unfairness of this, but then these insurance companies are not founded on the principal of fairness and human rights, but instead are just another corporate entity, in a sea of companies for whom the interest of shareholders comes first. Profit. I suppose it doesn’t matter that my son never even left the room, and only once left my wife’s or my arms; he must pay the rent. Alas.

So effectively, my 36 hour old child is indebted to an insurance company in the state of New York to the tune of $1,167.00. So of course we went downtown, deposited our check for $1200.00, and wrote one for $1,167.00. Which left us 33 bucks to “stimulate” the economy. On principal alone, I refuse to buy anything with this money. I think maybe I’ll start a little piggy bank for him. We had intended to start a college fund with the money, but no. Yet another blow to education. I won’t even begin to discuss the ravages of the “no child left behind” nonsense.

There is though, another layer of irony to all of this. I have grown so disgusted with the rampant, dare I say addictive, consumerism in North American (and quickly spreading) culture, that I have vowed to “Buy Nothing” from June of 2008 to June of 2009. I’m not really of a mind this morning to elaborate on why I feel this is important for me personally, and something that our culture needs to look at before we destroy any trace of meaningful existence left. In short, I feel the foundation (earning lots of money) upon which our capitalist society is built, to be fatally flawed. Suffice it to say, that I have written much about this on my site over the years. I may write more in the months to come, but feel free to peruse old posts. Or subscribe to Adbusters as they generally say it all quite well.

There are of course a number of things on the list that I will buy. Food. Medicine. Gasoline. (I wish I lived in a place where I didn’t need a car, but Keri and I are moving to the woods in a few months where the nearest grocery store is ten miles away and it snows like crazy.)

Anyway, you can imagine other things that might be on the list. I have promised myself that I will attempt to redefine what I NEED and what I WANT. There is a difference and I think that we often blur those lines on purpose to satisfy ourselves. I bought packing tape the other day to seal boxes that we will mail. I spent some time contemplating another method of sealing the boxes, but everything else seemed foolish. I considered trying to trade something for some tape on craigslist, but that just seemed absurd. Then again, maybe that isn’t absurd. Maybe ideas like that are what we need to reshape our failing, idealized version of capitalism. I’m not sure, though I’m hoping that this exercise will enlighten me a bit this year.

I also confess now, that I am buying a new guitar. I’m having one custom built and the process took quite a bit longer than I expected. I figured that it would all be done before June, but such is not the case. I am selling one, so in some way there is an exchange. Anyway, this exercise isn’t really about my justifying the idea and the action, but is about altering my understanding of how I exist in a seemingly blind and mindless consumer culture.

I confess that this is not a radical shift for Keri and I, as we have done our best to remain free from the entanglements of the proverbial mall for some time. That said, it is so easy, on a grey and miserable winter day, when you’ve not seen the sun for three weeks, to make your way to Target and buy a shirt. Or….. But does this really make me feel better? No. as a matter of fact, I think it makes me feel worse. Hmmmmm.

So, I will buy what I need. Speaking of which, does anyone have a pair of bootlaces in fairly good shape? Mine are about to snap. I imagine these two rolls of duct tape I have here on my floor may prove invaluable.