It’s so hard to reason with you

I’ve been so caught up in the Beatles lately that a friend or two has called me out on not listening to anything else. That’s not entirely true; though there was a week when I listened to literally nothing but, I’ve also been hard at work critiquing CDs for the magazine I work at.

But I have been listening to the Beatles so much that analysis of songs worms its way into my daily conversations. Today I told a coworker that I’m working on my bachelor’s in Beatles. For the longest time I thought I was just catching up with the rest of the world. Then last night I watched Across the Universe and was (appropriately!) delighted by details like the Cavern’s appearance in an early Liverpool scene. That’s when it clicked. Virtually everyone likes the Beatles. But everyone is not going to recognize that arch over the stage. 

And so tonight, when I want to ramble on about how great “Please Please Me” is, I’m turning to the Internet at large instead of emailing the same four people or calling my dad with my enthusiastic blather. I keep thinking that I’m the last person to jump on the Beatles bandwagon, but the truth is that there will always be someone new. Nearly 50 years after their first album, the music still grabs hold of un- or under-exposed listeners.

I bought Please Please Me (1963) and Let It Be  (1970) two or three weeks ago, bringing my studio album collection near completion. (I’m still without With the Beatles. My birthday is July 5.) Throughout my career as a Beatles fan (a ridiculous statement, I know, since it’s been less than two years since I bought my first album), I’ve always preferred later Beatles. The deeper they got into their careers (and everything that went with that), the more engaging their music became. I’ve listened to Please Please Me seven times through, as compared to Let It Be nine times. It’s not a huge discrepancy, but it’s to be expected.

But I’ve listened to the single “Please Please Me” probably four times today alone. I tend to be pretty naïve when songs are about … sensitive subjects. I was out of college when my (younger!) sister explained a line in “Baby Got Back,” a song I’d heard more times than I cared to over the course of eight years. 

That’s not the case here. I know exactly what John is saying. And that’s OK. The lyrics aren’t the point either, not for me, not on this song.

I tend to think of the Beatles’ early work as more innocent, with songs like “I Want to Hold Your Hand” and “She Loves You” jumping out. But this track destroys those, even though “She Loves You” will always hold a special place in my heart. “Please Please Me” feels so much more authentic to me, more gritty and true, and more so as I continue to read about the band. And I am obsessed with the guitar on this song. Absolutely obsessed. 

If only I’d been alive in the 60s. If this song is still affecting people nearly 50 years after it was written, I can only imagine what I would have been like witnessing the band in action. I would have been the screaming, bawling girl on the front row.

Instead, I’m her circa 2009, sitting in front of a computer and daydreaming about a time before I was born.

It’s a small world after all

We often joke that Birmingham is the biggest small town, and I’m constantly stumbling upon proof–even in other cities! Three cases in point:

1. Last May I was in Nashville to interview a local band, Wild Sweet Orange. They were touring nationally in support of their then- soon-to-be-released debut LP, but the tour wouldn’t carry them back to Birmingham until well after my deadline, so it was up to Nashville for me! As we chatted, I began the Birmingham six degrees game by asking what high schools they attended. Sure enough, two of the band members attended the same high school as my best guy friend from college–and the wife of one was his date to a high school dance. Small world.

2. My friend Elisa has gotten really into cycling over the past year, and has even launched a blog and a co-op specific to that interest. This weekend she and another Bike Skirt girl met a fellow bicycle blogger for coffee. That cyclist? Is my concert buddy and fellow editor from Nashville. Small world.

3. Not so long ago, a photographer friend spotted a facebook status in which I mentioned my best friend from high school, Scarlett Lillian. Amelia was so excited to realize that a photographer whose blog she followed was a long-time friend of mine. But take it a step further: Right now Scarlett is in Atlanta for a party. She texted me to say she’d met a photographer from Birmingham and immediately asked if he knew me. And of course, I adore Caleb Chancey.

It’s a small world, after all.

I trust you if you say its good

 

During my church’s women’s retreat earlier this month, we were split into small groups and given some ice breaker questions to aid in the getting-to-know you process. I laughed when I read one that asked what I’m passionate about. I’m a terribly enthusiastic person—not indiscriminately, to be sure, but when I really care about something, everyone around me knows it.

That’s how I ended up spending Friday lunch in the basement of Emmet O’Neal Library, sorting books for the annual Friends of Emmet O’Neal Library Book Sale.

Last year Elisa and I wandered through that very basement on the final day of the sale. It was intended to be an interlude between moving her things between apartments. It was instead the highlight of a cold February day, and we returned to her place with 36 books between us. The grand total at checkout? $7.

I’ve been raving about the sale ever since. Then last week I received a voice mail from one of the Friends folks, asking if I could run this year’s sale in our events calendar. I’m generally shy about calling strangers, but I immediately returned her message. The Friends sale and fellow book lovers dispel introversion.

And now I’m a library volunteer. Friday I was shown how to organize this year’s books and given access to piles and piles of donated books. It’s slow work to start, because I’ll stop as I drop books into their respective sections and examine the shelves. I’ve been looking for a copy of Paul Hemphill’s Leaving Birmingham—could it be hidden in the Southern writers section? What untold treasures are tucked into the massive trade paperback section? I’m told it’s easier to stay focused as you spend more time at the library. We’ll see.

I left my first day with three books to add to my 2009 book sale list: A hardback copy of The Prince of Frogtown by Rick Bragg (though I ran an excerpt and interviewed him last year, I only have the review copy); Gilead by Marilynne Robinson (which caught my eye at my book club’s book swap earlier in the week); and The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down by Anne Fadiman (who wrote a great book of book-related essays, Ex Libris). I’m told that the Friends group is the sale’s best customers. This year, I’m afraid you’ll have to count me among that number.

 

This is why I'm not allowed to spend much money on books ... a glimpse of my to read shelf. No, I have not finished reading the books I purchased last year.

This year’s Friends of Emmet O’Neal Library Book Sale will be held Feb. 20 to 22. 

I spoon you into my coffee cup

I’ve been joking for months that I’ve become the unofficial publicist for my favorite coffee shops. I take all my visitors to at least one of them, and I drive well out of my way to buy beans from my favorite roaster. I’ll walk a mile from my office, round-trip, for a cup of coffee on a cold day. And I spend way too much time talking to and about my favorite baristas. (Let’s be honest: They’re an incredibly important part of the coffee experience!)

For years friends have called me the coffee queen, but these days I’m doing my part to earn the title. Just today, one of my favorites gave me a list (at my request!) of the equipment that would help me create the very best cup of coffee I can at home. Everything that I don’t already own is now on my amazon wish list, and I’ll likely purchase it bit by bit over the coming years.

But the truth? It may not be worth the money, because I sure do love hanging out in coffee shops.

Every morning I heat water in my Le Creuset Zen Tea Kettle . I really should filter my water, or so the experts say. But when you’ve got Birmingham’s fantastic water on tap, it’s hard to convince me.

 

Right now I’m using a cheap Black and Decker burr grinder. It’s a step up from blade, but I have my eye on this beauty from Baratza. 

My current French press is a two cupper, but I’d like to upgrade to the Bodum Chambord 12 cup press.

Now we’re really getting anal. I worry a lot about the amount of coffee I’m putting into the press, and with the Ohaus CL-201 scale I would be worry-free. (Although yes, my coffee-making process would be that much longer.)

These days, all my coffee comes from Primavera. Like I said, it’s an obsession … and it’s worth every penny, every drive to a specialty shop or–better still–to Primavera itself. Hey, if coffee’s my biggest vice then I’m not doing so bad …

Everything turns to you

I just finished reading an interview with author Azar Nafisi in the January 2009 issue of Book Page. Nafisi wrote the much-lauded Reading Lolita in Tehran, and her new memoir is Things I’ve Been Silent About. Referring to the first book, the interviewer asked why Nafisi reads, and her response struck home.

“I read for the same reason that I write: I cannot help myself. It is like falling in love, there must be a number of reasons why one falls in love, but when it comes to explaining them, one can feel tongue-tied. …”

2009 concerts

1. Tim Brantley, Barnes and Noble, Jan. 2009
2. Hunter Barrow and the Gary Buseys, Speakeasy, Jan. 2009
3. Grey Haven, Urban Standard, Jan. 30, 2009
4. Punch Brothers, Alys Stephens Center, Jan. 31, 2009
5. Cowboy Junkies, Alys Stephens Center, Feb. 10, 2009
6. Griffin House, WorkPlay, Feb. 20, 2009
7. Ryan Adams, Alabama Theatre, March 6, 2009
8. Blitzen Trapper with Alela Diane, Bottletree, March 7, 2009
9. Ryan Adams, War Memorial, Nashville, Tenn., March 14, 2009
10. Ryan Adams, Fox Theatre, Atlanta, Ga., March 20, 2009
11. GreyHaven 7, Urban Standard, March 27, 2009
12. Maria Taylor with Whispertown 2000, Bottletree, April 4, 2009
13. Dave Matthews Band with Old Crow Medicine Show, Verizon Wireless Music Center, April 20, 2009
14. William Fitzsimmons, WorkPlay, April 23, 2009
15. Ray LaMontagne, Alabama Theatre, April 27, 2009
16. The Felice Brothers, Bottletree, April 28, 2009
17. L.L. Cool J and Jazon Mraz, Crawfish Boil, May 1, 2009
18. Laura Gibson and Damien Jurado, The Crocodile Cafe, Seattle, Wash., May 8, 2009
19. Black Jacket Symphony presents Abbey Road, WorkPlay, May 28, 2009
20. Sarah Borges, Art on the Rocks, May 29, 2009
21. Abram and Sarah, The Havens, IMaginary Plans and Dead Fingers, Bottletree, June 2, 2009
22. Bon Iver with Elvis Perkins in Dearland, Variety Playhouse, Atlanta, June 6, 2009
23. Alabama Symphony Orchestra’s Three Broadway Divas, Caldwell Park, June 12, 2009 (rained out after overture)
24. Todd Coder, Above, June 18, 2009
25. City Stages: Act of Congress, Great Book of John, Plain White T’s, Wild Sweet Orange, Abram and Sarah, How I Became the Bomb, Meiko, Erin McCarley, Eric Hutchinson, Roman Candle, Mat Kearney, Jonny Lang, Dierks Bentley, Pine Hill Haints, Hill Country Revue, Electric Touch, The Whigs, Doobie Brothers, Lynyrd Skynrd; Downtown Birmingham, June 17-19, 2009
26. The Flamers, O Kafes, June 25, 2009
27. GreyHaven, Urban Standard, July 17, 2009
28. Pine Hill Haints, Bottletree, July 25, 2009

Don’t let me into this year with an empty heart

I bought a new planner at the beginning of this month. And though the first day listed didn’t arrive until this week, I’ve been carrying it around since its purchase. It shouldn’t be surprising that I’m excited–I’m a planner, myself. I’ve dutifully filled out its pages, adding my contact information and plotting out weekends months from now. I’ve stroked its cover hundreds of times, admiring the tiny notebook that even tucks neatly into my purse. But you know what I’m most excited about?

The teeny space provided for each day.

My tendency to overschedule spiraled out of control this year. I justified it during the summer; my friends and I labeled our silly evenings “college nights” (because that’s where it felt like we were!) and took advantage of our remaining time with a buddy by marking the 40 Days and 40 Nights of Brett. It was summer, and things were allowed to be a little busy.

But as fall arrived and wore on, I booked almost every night with activity. Thursdays were typically overscheduled with two or three events demanding my presence. At one point Jamie pointed out that I felt obligated–I wasn’t attending things because I wanted to, but because I felt that I ought. She was right.

And because I packed my calendar full, I often missed out on spontaneous gatherings with people I really care about. Weeks of vegetables would pile up because I was never home. Once I even went several weeks without finishing a book!

I’ve thought a lot about slowing down, only commiting myself to events I really want to attend, prioritizing quiet time with friends or myself. A time or two I’ve even asked a friend to keep me mindful of these things.

And yes, I realize that it’s a bit silly to expect a 3×5 notebook to do the same. But I’m hopeful. I hope that these tiny pages will at least be a visual reminder that I don’t have all the time in the world.

My optimism never dies. Happy 2009.

I promise to let go when you leave

Like my friend Susan, I am not one to tag people in the memes that work their way around the blog world. But unlike Susan, I am prone to participating whenever tagged. And so …

Here are the rules:

Link to the person who tagged you.

Post the rules on your blog.

Write 6 random things about yourself.

Tag 6-ish people at the end of your post.

Let each person know he/she has been tagged.

Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

Sometimes I think I am my most productive sitting in bed. That’s counter-intuitive, I suppose. But I feel safest and most at home sitting in my bedroom. I am surrounded by some of my favorite things, cozy and with my cat. I do a lot of writing, reading and planning sitting right here.

People always seem surprised to learn I’m an INFJ–except for other INFJs (and I know quite a few!). Several months ago a friend randomly announced, “CJ, this may surprise you, but I’m an introvert.” (He’s an INTJ.) After laughing I replied, “This may surprise you, but so am I.” Apparently INFJs are frequently mistaken for extroverts. I could talk all day about the Myers-Briggs, but I’ll stop here.

If I never set foot on the beach again, it would not be the end of me. Don’t get me wrong, I realize that beaches are beautiful (oh my word, the beaches I saw in Mexico? Amazing.). But I am not a beach person. Absolutely not. I love walking on the beach–or better yet, sitting on the beach–after dark. But lying in the sand and sweating without any good cause, while surrounded by eleventy billion people, is one of my very least favorite things. Period. (I actually avoided so much as setting foot on the beach during my last trip! Not sure how I pulled that off.) 

My friend’s little boy calls me a ladybug, and I LOVE IT. One night Logan was acting silly, running around the house and generally acting like the adorable 3-year-old boy he is. “Logan, I think you’re a monkey!” I told him. “No, I’m a BOY!” was his response. The second time around he came up with something better: “No, I’m a boy and YOU’RE a LADYBUG!” There is nothing like having a nickname from a 3 year old. I hope he never forgets it.

I have attended the same church for more than four years, and been a member for nearly four years, but I am still awkward and a little scared during the greeting time. It is a useful time–I met one of my close friends that way, and many others through her!–but yeah, I am awkward and uncomfortable during it. I think that might be OK.

Although I’m an optimist (a fact that has been hard for me to admit, but oh my gosh, have you met me?! I am absolutely an optimist), I could just nearly listen to nothing but sad, dreary music for the rest of my life.

I’m not tagging anyone. Play if you want to–I’ll be interested to read your thoughts!

Who am I kidding but me?

It’s been a long couple of months–good, but over-filled with activities and obligations. So as the weekend approached, my calendar remained empty. I told people that I hadn’t tried to get football tickets, and that if they were to fall into my lap I would think about going to the game.

Then they did. And very quickly, I said yes.

Who am I kidding? I can’t turn down Alabama football. Last weekend was the first time that Alabama had taken the field as a No. 1 team in my life. (Yes, we won a national championship in 1992, but we weren’t ranked No. 1 until we beat Miami.) We’ve lost to Mississippi State for the past two years. And though Auburn already ensured that State won’t claim the Alabama State Championship this year, I want to see us destroy them. (We better destroy them.) We could be–should be–on our way to a 12-0 regular season. I was there as we opened the season, I was there for the too-close Kentucky game, I hope to be there for the history-making Iron Bowl. But I better take every game I can get (especially as I remain camped out on the Tide Pride waiting list!). 

After talking to the friend who came into tickets Thursday night, the official plan was to take it easy (our entire group is socially exhausted) and leave Birmingham at 5 p.m. for today’s 6:45 game. But even as I hung up, I suspected I was again lying to myself. And so this morning I found myself back in the kitchen, quickly preparing my favorite beer-cheese spread for this afternoon’s tailgate. 

It’s been a while since I’ve added a recipe to my go-to list, and this one definitely merits a place. It’s incredibly easy and always a hit, especially with the boys. The ingredients are things that I typically have in the kitchen, save for perhaps a large quantity of cheese (easily remedied). Don’t have an amber beer handy? Sub in another, so long as it’s a good one! (Today I used Yazoo Dos Perros.) And it’s perfect for a cold autumn day spent on the quad.

Now, get me to Tuscaloosa!

Beer-cheese spread

Prep: 15 min., Chill: 2 hr. This recipe makes a lot, but it can be frozen for up to a month. It fits perfectly into 4 (10-oz.) ramekins. Try it over French fries, hot dogs, and chili too.

This recipe goes with Grilled Beer-Cheese Sandwich

Yield

Makes 5 cups

Ingredients

• 1  (2-lb.) block sharp Cheddar cheese, shredded
• 1  small onion, minced
• 2  garlic cloves, minced
• 1/2  teaspoon  hot sauce
• 1/4  teaspoon  ground red pepper
• 1  (12-oz.) bottle amber beer, at room temperature
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Garnish: thyme sprig

Preparation

 

1. Beat together first 5 ingredients at low speed with a heavy-duty electric stand mixer until blended. Gradually add beer, beating until blended after each addition. Beat at medium-high speed 1 minute or until blended and creamy. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Cover and chill 2 hours. Garnish, if desired. Store in an airtight container in refrigerator up to 2 weeks.

Note: For testing purposes only, we used Abita Amber Beer. This spread can be frozen up to 1 month; thaw overnight in refrigerator.

Grilled Beer-Cheese Sandwich: Spread 1 tsp. softened butter evenly on 1 side of 2 bread slices. Place bread slices, buttered sides down, on wax paper. Spread 1/4 cup Beer-Cheese Spread onto 1 side of 1 bread slice. Top with remaining bread slice, buttered side up. Cook sandwich in a nonstick skillet or griddle over medium heat 3 to 5 minutes on each side or until golden brown and cheese is melted.

 

 

Therese Halaska, Portage, Wisconsin, Southern Living, OCTOBER 2007

I typically serve it with crackers or apples.

Breaking our own rules, we’re gonna pull through

My cat took off for a little respite this afternoon. She’s an inside cat, but every now and then I’ll let her out for an adventure. Usually she abides by the house rules: Stay in our yard, and don’t bring any other creatures inside with you. Yesterday she broke rule two, twice. This afternoon she violated rule one.

I typically won’t let her out if I have to be somewhere within the hour, and today I had at least an hour and a half (maybe two) before I had to leave for church. At 3:30 I started calling her in. At 4 p.m. I started to get a little annoyed—I had a meeting before church and I needed to leave by 4:10 to make it on time. By 4:50 I realized I wasn’t going to church tonight. By 6 I began to get worried.

Of course she strolled in on her own about 15 minutes later—no harm, no foul, as far as she was concerned. And the truth is, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing for me, either. Emma’s little rendezvous forced me to take a much-needed quiet night in.

Those have become rare lately, and that’s a problem. Until recently a week filled with nightly activities was an anomaly. They occurred perhaps once a month, but no more than that. Now it seems I overschedule myself every week. (In fact, I’ve been meaning to write this blog entry for months—months!–and haven’t taken the time to do it.)

And I need a lot of alone time, a lot of downtime, to function at 100 percent. I am the happiest when a week includes cooking at home, cleaning my apartment, reading way more than I should, a quiet night or two with a small group of friends and maybe one evening out. This week, though?

Monday: Writing night at a coffee shop. Tuesday: Trivia at a sports bar. Wednesday: Dinner. Thursday: Writing breakfast at a coffee shop. Work party. Wine (or in my case, water) with a coworker and friends. Concert. Friday: Dinner and a concert. Saturday: Football game viewing, then a night on the farm.

Yes, they’re all good things, and that’s why it’s so hard for me not to overload myself. But I’m burning out. And when I hit that point, I’m not taking care of myself or caring for my friends (or my cat!). I miss all three.

I’m trying to get better. My calendar for the approaching week isn’t nearly as full, and I’m working on a project that requires me to slow down. It isn’t easy, and frankly, I probably need more help with this than I realize. But tonight was at least a step in the right direction—all thanks to a runaway cat.