Friday, January 16, 2009
Different Names for the Same Things
I miss when Death Cab used to be good.
I must have heard "I Will Possess Your Heart" on the radio at least 10,000 times in L.A. -- almost enough times to make me like it all right.
But man, every time something off Transatlanticism or Plans plays on my Jango station, I think, now there's a band I know and love. I don't think I've ever felt so nostalgic about something that seemed to so effortlessly flood the present air.
Still, I was in a SoCal Macy's and I heard a much older song of theirs -- one I'd heard a thousand times but couldn't remember. It was like seeing the face of someone you knew a long time ago and forgetting their name, only to realize you were best friends in second grade.
I miss when Death Cab used to be good.
I must have heard "I Will Possess Your Heart" on the radio at least 10,000 times in L.A. -- almost enough times to make me like it all right.
But man, every time something off Transatlanticism or Plans plays on my Jango station, I think, now there's a band I know and love. I don't think I've ever felt so nostalgic about something that seemed to so effortlessly flood the present air.
Still, I was in a SoCal Macy's and I heard a much older song of theirs -- one I'd heard a thousand times but couldn't remember. It was like seeing the face of someone you knew a long time ago and forgetting their name, only to realize you were best friends in second grade.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Line of Best Fit
Still one of my favorite songs of all time, although I haven't thought about it for a long while. Like old memories, it got lost. I played that CD so much, and at times I listened to that song over and over. Call me a masochist, but it got me through things, like great records do.
Death Cab For Cutie Lyrics
Line Of Best Fit. Lyrics..
It really spoke to me.
Lately, I've been thinking about that again. Paths and patterns. My future seems brighter than it ever has.
I took a vocational test at work last week. It's going to sound cheesy, but here's the back story. I work in an office where our mission is to help students find careers and carve their pathways into them. To succeed. To get out there and use their education. And then to give back to the University, either as alumni or as recruits. My role could be the most or least important, or somewhere in the middle. Sometimes I feel it's minimal. Others, I feel like I am part of this momentum, and I am making a difference. At best, I am, and I am inspired by so many around me. At worst, it's a means to an end, but that's only when I get itchy feet or when I'm super bored.
I have gotten off the subject. Anyway, they had everyone in the office take this test, and tomorrow we are going to go over the results in depth. They think the process will either a) work to help us each understand our role as contributors to a team, but also b) to recognize our individual strengths and weaknesses, and c) so we might have a better idea of whom just might be the missing piece of the puzzle, because we are understaffed and want to recruit those who could give an outstanding contribution in expanding the work we are doing, without having to upset the structure I think too much.
Anyway, it was spot on; it listed five strengths in depth, and pointed to careers, and strategic means of maximizing them, and suggested approaches to learning to get the most out of them, etc.
I won't bore you with the details, but I found it pretty fascinating. And though on one hand my boss thought it was sorta hokey and related it more to something like astrology than "hard science", it spoke to me.
The last trait for me, of the five, was called Connectedness. It completely described my worldview, and my values, addressing the deeply spiritual nature I see humans and animals, and the big picture, and the reasons I make some of the choices I do. It even recommended several programs for me that I am coincidentally applying to, and some others I have thought about exploring in the past.
The thing about it is, there's nothing coincidental about it. That's what Connectedness is about -- the interconnection of people, things, and events. Even when I'm not thinking about this at all, things happen, and I can't help but later think they were not a coincidence, that coincidences do not exist.
I'm not even going to call it fate. Fate could only be one spot on the metaphysical graph we draw our paths on. And they are not linear; the line of best fit is the best fit acknowledging that it includes error.
I'm going to be longwinded tonight. I already am, but I've just got too much to say, so please stick with this; I've got some points. (Hah. Points.)
Last Friday, my department had a "retreat." Actually, we got to spend the day at Dave and Busters. It was pretty cool, for what might have otherwise been a yucky boring meeting day. In between a meeting session, after lunch, I ended up having a long discussion with two of my coworkers about my future plans.
I don't even know how it started; I guess with the fact that I had taken a test this morning, and thought I had gotten a B (turns out I got another A! -- but I didn't know that till later). I was a little bummed. I told them about the specific goals I have decided upon, and that I've done the math. I've done plenty of homework. I have to make certain grades; I have to have a financial plan, and there are many other things I need to consider as well. Planning this stuff is not going to be easy.
So, without my really asking for it, they opened up and gave me some really great advice. Questions I could ask. Alternative ways to make ends meet. And other nonprofits I hadn't thought of -- like one in Houston where "volunteers" help tutor kids in reading that sounded really cool, for instance.
It wasn't until yesterday, taking a walk on campus, that I realized how lucky I am. Except that it's not an accident that I ended up there, working in exactly the right place. It's not just that they help me, but they've encouraged me to look outside of where I've been looking. Basically, for the first time I realized I don't have to do this all by myself. I don't have to walk into something so blindly. Not be prepared. Not know what my options are. And more importantly, I don't have to sell myself short.
Back to the Line of Best Fit. This is even crazier. OK, I'm liking research methods class. Last semester, I perceived that I wouldn't get it; that it wasn't interesting; that I would never use it. But I gave myself a talkin-to right before the summer session started, and I'm doing it. Not only am I making an A, I am engaged in it. I have learned things that I will use. I may not want to be a social researcher, but at least I will know a little about how it is done. At least I will have a better eye concerning what I can trust and not trust.
Which also made it easier for me to digest that vocational test. Even while I was taking it, I understood the method, and I was able to be completely honest.
My boss told me when he took it, he put himself in his work mindset. He said, "I'm different at work than outside of work," so he intentionally thought of work scenarios when thinking over the test questions.
I didn't do that. Because I don't think work should be separate from who you are. That is probably the largest reason so many are dissatisfied with what they do, and I'm not looking for a job. I'm looking for a way I want to live my life. I'm looking for the Golden Egg. I'm looking for fulfillment. I'm looking for a vocation, a career that will fall in line with my values, and what I want to gain from life itself.
And there's the Connectedness again.
Then there's the Line. And just like this story about all the things I've taken today, there are a series of points outlining it. The Line of Best Fit, in social research, falls through the sum of the squared differences between predicted and actual outcomes.
That's what life is like. I'm a key opponent of living a linear life, or at least, I tell people often, "Well, I've never lived a linear life." Especially lately, when all these people from high school have been randomly writing me, asking me what the last 10 years have been like.
That said, the Line of Best Fit is truth and fiction. It exists, but it doesn't. It is the line that can be formed through minimizing the likelihood of error. In Regressive Research, it is the Golden Egg.
My notebook paper had and x- and y-axis drawn, with points scattered and a line going through them, but not through them. It had scratch-outs, too.
Man, maybe I'm tired; maybe I'm reading too much into things, but I don't think so. Moments of clarity are few and precious, and right now, I'm savoring it. Because that's what you're supposed to do.
Still one of my favorite songs of all time, although I haven't thought about it for a long while. Like old memories, it got lost. I played that CD so much, and at times I listened to that song over and over. Call me a masochist, but it got me through things, like great records do.
Death Cab For Cutie Lyrics
Line Of Best Fit. Lyrics..
It really spoke to me.
Lately, I've been thinking about that again. Paths and patterns. My future seems brighter than it ever has.
I took a vocational test at work last week. It's going to sound cheesy, but here's the back story. I work in an office where our mission is to help students find careers and carve their pathways into them. To succeed. To get out there and use their education. And then to give back to the University, either as alumni or as recruits. My role could be the most or least important, or somewhere in the middle. Sometimes I feel it's minimal. Others, I feel like I am part of this momentum, and I am making a difference. At best, I am, and I am inspired by so many around me. At worst, it's a means to an end, but that's only when I get itchy feet or when I'm super bored.
I have gotten off the subject. Anyway, they had everyone in the office take this test, and tomorrow we are going to go over the results in depth. They think the process will either a) work to help us each understand our role as contributors to a team, but also b) to recognize our individual strengths and weaknesses, and c) so we might have a better idea of whom just might be the missing piece of the puzzle, because we are understaffed and want to recruit those who could give an outstanding contribution in expanding the work we are doing, without having to upset the structure I think too much.
Anyway, it was spot on; it listed five strengths in depth, and pointed to careers, and strategic means of maximizing them, and suggested approaches to learning to get the most out of them, etc.
I won't bore you with the details, but I found it pretty fascinating. And though on one hand my boss thought it was sorta hokey and related it more to something like astrology than "hard science", it spoke to me.
The last trait for me, of the five, was called Connectedness. It completely described my worldview, and my values, addressing the deeply spiritual nature I see humans and animals, and the big picture, and the reasons I make some of the choices I do. It even recommended several programs for me that I am coincidentally applying to, and some others I have thought about exploring in the past.
The thing about it is, there's nothing coincidental about it. That's what Connectedness is about -- the interconnection of people, things, and events. Even when I'm not thinking about this at all, things happen, and I can't help but later think they were not a coincidence, that coincidences do not exist.
I'm not even going to call it fate. Fate could only be one spot on the metaphysical graph we draw our paths on. And they are not linear; the line of best fit is the best fit acknowledging that it includes error.
I'm going to be longwinded tonight. I already am, but I've just got too much to say, so please stick with this; I've got some points. (Hah. Points.)
Last Friday, my department had a "retreat." Actually, we got to spend the day at Dave and Busters. It was pretty cool, for what might have otherwise been a yucky boring meeting day. In between a meeting session, after lunch, I ended up having a long discussion with two of my coworkers about my future plans.
I don't even know how it started; I guess with the fact that I had taken a test this morning, and thought I had gotten a B (turns out I got another A! -- but I didn't know that till later). I was a little bummed. I told them about the specific goals I have decided upon, and that I've done the math. I've done plenty of homework. I have to make certain grades; I have to have a financial plan, and there are many other things I need to consider as well. Planning this stuff is not going to be easy.
So, without my really asking for it, they opened up and gave me some really great advice. Questions I could ask. Alternative ways to make ends meet. And other nonprofits I hadn't thought of -- like one in Houston where "volunteers" help tutor kids in reading that sounded really cool, for instance.
It wasn't until yesterday, taking a walk on campus, that I realized how lucky I am. Except that it's not an accident that I ended up there, working in exactly the right place. It's not just that they help me, but they've encouraged me to look outside of where I've been looking. Basically, for the first time I realized I don't have to do this all by myself. I don't have to walk into something so blindly. Not be prepared. Not know what my options are. And more importantly, I don't have to sell myself short.
Back to the Line of Best Fit. This is even crazier. OK, I'm liking research methods class. Last semester, I perceived that I wouldn't get it; that it wasn't interesting; that I would never use it. But I gave myself a talkin-to right before the summer session started, and I'm doing it. Not only am I making an A, I am engaged in it. I have learned things that I will use. I may not want to be a social researcher, but at least I will know a little about how it is done. At least I will have a better eye concerning what I can trust and not trust.
Which also made it easier for me to digest that vocational test. Even while I was taking it, I understood the method, and I was able to be completely honest.
My boss told me when he took it, he put himself in his work mindset. He said, "I'm different at work than outside of work," so he intentionally thought of work scenarios when thinking over the test questions.
I didn't do that. Because I don't think work should be separate from who you are. That is probably the largest reason so many are dissatisfied with what they do, and I'm not looking for a job. I'm looking for a way I want to live my life. I'm looking for the Golden Egg. I'm looking for fulfillment. I'm looking for a vocation, a career that will fall in line with my values, and what I want to gain from life itself.
And there's the Connectedness again.
Then there's the Line. And just like this story about all the things I've taken today, there are a series of points outlining it. The Line of Best Fit, in social research, falls through the sum of the squared differences between predicted and actual outcomes.
That's what life is like. I'm a key opponent of living a linear life, or at least, I tell people often, "Well, I've never lived a linear life." Especially lately, when all these people from high school have been randomly writing me, asking me what the last 10 years have been like.
That said, the Line of Best Fit is truth and fiction. It exists, but it doesn't. It is the line that can be formed through minimizing the likelihood of error. In Regressive Research, it is the Golden Egg.
My notebook paper had and x- and y-axis drawn, with points scattered and a line going through them, but not through them. It had scratch-outs, too.
Man, maybe I'm tired; maybe I'm reading too much into things, but I don't think so. Moments of clarity are few and precious, and right now, I'm savoring it. Because that's what you're supposed to do.
Labels: Career, College, Death Cab
Monday, June 09, 2008
Narrow Stairs
All right, so here's the verdict, and I'll write again if I change my mind, but I'm heartbroken.
Ben Gibbard wrote the soundtrack for my early 20s, and now it looks as though I may need to find the rest elsewhere.
I finally went out the other day and bought myself a copy of Narrow Stairs. Yes, bought it, which makes me even more entitled to have an opinion, on top of the fact that I've been with them shortly since the very beginning (thanks to Mary Carradine), and even though my friends overwhelmingly tried to pressure me to download it, I wanted to support my favorite band, even on its first major label release.
Ben and the rest of the band seem to have lost their mojo. More than that, they have lost their musicality and sentimentality. Granted, I am writing this after listening to the record just once, but that was about all I could handle.
I recently advised a friend to give it another chance, and I will, too, of course, but let's not kid ourselves: Narrow Stairs is no Plans or Transatlanticism. It's not even a Photo Album. There's nothing to make you suspect this is the same band that gave us "Styrofoam Plates" or "I Will Follow You Into the Dark," or "Song for Kelly Huckaby." There's no "Company Calls" -- not even an "I Was a Kaleidoscope."
Is this what happens? Because I am sadly reminded of a few other depressing moments in music history. This is like Death Cab's Green Album: They will gain a new audience, but what about the true fans? What's in it for us?
Granted, Gibbard's tenor is still as sweet as key lime; drummer Jason McGerr remains on time; Chris Walla can still play guitar with the best of the rest of the high and mighty; Nick Harmer, same: But where's the magic?
Where's the sincerity? Where's the reflection? Where's the breaking your heart and putting it back together? Putting you right back in some lost place, or speaking your thoughts from the back of your mind and playing the notes as you think them? Where is the deeply human, tragic yet hopeful element? Where?
It's rushed, it's repetitive, and it is too lyrical. Where are the bridges? Where are the musical breakdowns? Where are the interludes, the real intros and outros? And what the hell would you call the ending of track 10? Honestly. Who thought that was a good idea -- please don't tell me anyone at Atlantic. Someone there must know how to record.
A few years ago, I read a blog Chris Walla wrote. It was a letter to Bjork, a break-up note after her latest release.
Well, shame on you Chris. And Ben, and Nick, and Jason.
I'm not quite breaking up yet. I'll wait and see. I'll be patient and kind, like love should be. I know that with the truest love you can be let down from time to time; it's the love that can still grow through disappointment that makes it.
I had to listen to The Photo Album three times in a row yesterday just so we could temporarily reconcile our differences, and it was worth it, but please: in the words of the Beatles, "Don't Let Me Down" again. Seriously, if you give me a Maladroit or a Wake up and Smell the Coffee or worse, I don't know what I'm going to do.
All right, so here's the verdict, and I'll write again if I change my mind, but I'm heartbroken.
Ben Gibbard wrote the soundtrack for my early 20s, and now it looks as though I may need to find the rest elsewhere.
I finally went out the other day and bought myself a copy of Narrow Stairs. Yes, bought it, which makes me even more entitled to have an opinion, on top of the fact that I've been with them shortly since the very beginning (thanks to Mary Carradine), and even though my friends overwhelmingly tried to pressure me to download it, I wanted to support my favorite band, even on its first major label release.
Ben and the rest of the band seem to have lost their mojo. More than that, they have lost their musicality and sentimentality. Granted, I am writing this after listening to the record just once, but that was about all I could handle.
I recently advised a friend to give it another chance, and I will, too, of course, but let's not kid ourselves: Narrow Stairs is no Plans or Transatlanticism. It's not even a Photo Album. There's nothing to make you suspect this is the same band that gave us "Styrofoam Plates" or "I Will Follow You Into the Dark," or "Song for Kelly Huckaby." There's no "Company Calls" -- not even an "I Was a Kaleidoscope."
Is this what happens? Because I am sadly reminded of a few other depressing moments in music history. This is like Death Cab's Green Album: They will gain a new audience, but what about the true fans? What's in it for us?
Granted, Gibbard's tenor is still as sweet as key lime; drummer Jason McGerr remains on time; Chris Walla can still play guitar with the best of the rest of the high and mighty; Nick Harmer, same: But where's the magic?
Where's the sincerity? Where's the reflection? Where's the breaking your heart and putting it back together? Putting you right back in some lost place, or speaking your thoughts from the back of your mind and playing the notes as you think them? Where is the deeply human, tragic yet hopeful element? Where?
It's rushed, it's repetitive, and it is too lyrical. Where are the bridges? Where are the musical breakdowns? Where are the interludes, the real intros and outros? And what the hell would you call the ending of track 10? Honestly. Who thought that was a good idea -- please don't tell me anyone at Atlantic. Someone there must know how to record.
A few years ago, I read a blog Chris Walla wrote. It was a letter to Bjork, a break-up note after her latest release.
Well, shame on you Chris. And Ben, and Nick, and Jason.
I'm not quite breaking up yet. I'll wait and see. I'll be patient and kind, like love should be. I know that with the truest love you can be let down from time to time; it's the love that can still grow through disappointment that makes it.
I had to listen to The Photo Album three times in a row yesterday just so we could temporarily reconcile our differences, and it was worth it, but please: in the words of the Beatles, "Don't Let Me Down" again. Seriously, if you give me a Maladroit or a Wake up and Smell the Coffee or worse, I don't know what I'm going to do.
Labels: Ben Gibbard, Death Cab, Music
Monday, February 19, 2007
More Adventurous X 1 MILLION
like I just woke up from a good sleep and a great dream,
(2/12/07)
I don't have time to really write about everything I've been thinking about. In fact, I should be getting ready for work right about now. But remember what I said about More Adventurous? Well, it's becoming more and more the same way with Plans. Before Plans, Transatlanticism was my favorite. And goddamn, it's still amazing, as is The Photo Album and the Stability EP and yeah, everything else they've ever put out. But man, Plans is so amazing, and I can't be too redundant with that -- impossible!
Even "Someday You Will Be Loved", which wasn't at first even close to the greatest song on one of the greatest albums ever, to me. How could it compete with "Soul Meets Body" or "Summer Skin" or "I Will Follow You into the Dark" or "Different Names for the Same Things" or "What Sarah Said", or "Your Heart is an Empty Room", or all the rest of the more parts per brilliancy?
I don't know man, but then Ben Gibbard just sings, ever-so-sweetly:
You'll be loved you'll be loved
Like you never have known
The memories of me
Will seem more like bad dreams
Just a series of blurs
Like I never occurred
Someday you will be loved
And it's like for the first time I hear it, and want to believe it, and not just dismiss it as some depressing ass shit. Because it is one of the least depressing, most real thoughts I've ever not even thought of at all.
like I just woke up from a good sleep and a great dream,
(2/12/07)
I don't have time to really write about everything I've been thinking about. In fact, I should be getting ready for work right about now. But remember what I said about More Adventurous? Well, it's becoming more and more the same way with Plans. Before Plans, Transatlanticism was my favorite. And goddamn, it's still amazing, as is The Photo Album and the Stability EP and yeah, everything else they've ever put out. But man, Plans is so amazing, and I can't be too redundant with that -- impossible!
Even "Someday You Will Be Loved", which wasn't at first even close to the greatest song on one of the greatest albums ever, to me. How could it compete with "Soul Meets Body" or "Summer Skin" or "I Will Follow You into the Dark" or "Different Names for the Same Things" or "What Sarah Said", or "Your Heart is an Empty Room", or all the rest of the more parts per brilliancy?
I don't know man, but then Ben Gibbard just sings, ever-so-sweetly:
You'll be loved you'll be loved
Like you never have known
The memories of me
Will seem more like bad dreams
Just a series of blurs
Like I never occurred
Someday you will be loved
And it's like for the first time I hear it, and want to believe it, and not just dismiss it as some depressing ass shit. Because it is one of the least depressing, most real thoughts I've ever not even thought of at all.
Labels: Ben Gibbard, Death Cab, Music, Rilo Kiley
