Mexico City

Seriously, Mexico City is AMAZING. It's along the lines of NYC, glittering and sparkling and trendy and sprawling and dense and smoggy and sunny and incredible. All at the same time. I loved it. I would love to go back. I would not, however, like to live there. No. Way WAY too many people, although I do appreciate the diversity of style: punks and old ladies and preps and rich people and poor people and rockers and rejects and Mayans and everyone. Just...thrilling. But I am tired and should be dissertating so my brief foray into (re)blogging is short and sweet and to be expounded upon later.

Os Mutantes

Yup, I saw the legends. Or at least a new version of them. Os Mutantes is a psychedelic Brazilian band from the late 1960s who teamed up with Caetano Veloso, Vinicius de Moraes, Gilberto Gil, Gal Costa and Tom Ze to form the Tropicalia movement that countered Brazilian pop music and an oppressive dictatorship. Sounds complicated, but it mostly produced clever, catchy songs with lots of word play and fabulous musical texture. They played last night at the Beachland Ballroom, and while the sound was crap, the show was great fun. It made me miss Dr. Behague and all his little quirks and his nutty lectures about Brazilian music that were neither here nor there and yet I learned. A lot, actually, and as a result I could sing along to several songs.

Frog Earrings

Today I am wearing green copper frog earrings. They are about 1.5 inches long, and they're very detailed. When I was in the fifth through 7th grades, we lived in Rhode Island, which is where my mom is from. We would regularly go for hikes in the Norman Bird Sanctuary in Middletown, not too far from the beach where my mom grew up. The bird sanctuary would have a fall festival with arts and crafts and pumpkin carving contests and the whole nine yards. It was always so much fun. One year, just Mom and I went and we had a blast, walking around the grounds, looking at different rescue birds and hiking up to the peak. We shopped at the art festival, and my mom saw these copper earrings and bought them for me in an instant. I rarely wear them anymore, not because frog earrings aren't cool, but because these silly earrings make me think of my mom all day long, and I can practically taste the hot apple cider that they sold at the sanctuary.

5x800

When I was a kid, I wanted nothing more than to compete in the Olympics as a swimmer. To this day, every Olympic swimming or running match I watch makes me cry big giant crocodile tears. For some reason the sheer glory of such accomplishment moves me to a weird nostalgic place.

I ran with Gilbert's Gazelle's this morning. Gilbert is an Olympic athlete who trains anyone and everyone to meet their full potential for a marathon. He is a genocide survivor, a Tutsi originally from Burundi where 250 of his high school classmates were burned alive by Hutus. He escaped, literally on fire, and somehow survived and managed to move to the US and become a NCAA champion. Running today, in the pitch black, oppressive 90 degree heat of the 5:45 morning, I felt invincible. I was in the slowest group, I nearly passed out, and yet I was exhilarated. I felt like an Olympic athlete and it was thrilling. For three minutes and thirty seconds.

I want to be in Austin.

ATX

I'm just comfortable in Austin. It's not that Cleveland sucks; it doesn't. But I can't seem to get comfortable there. Austin is like an old easy chair, all worn in and comfy and complete with throw pillows and an afghan. Cleveland is like a stiff-backed chair that is the wrong height for the table. It serves its purpose, but you can't really nestle in. Or at least I can't seem to. If I could just do the job I'm doing in Austin, all would be well. How about if the Rock Hall opens an annex in Texas? That would be perfect.

Stupid Nostalgia

So I just got back from a lovely weekend in Nazareth, PA where my dear friend Sonia had her American wedding. She married a wonderful Indian gentleman named Nikhil and they first married in India in December (hence the double celebration). (She's half Indian / half Scottish for what it's worth.) The wedding took place on a beautiful property that belongs to her family friends, and they have a garden so huge that it's basically a farm. They live almost solely from their garden and they also stock their local food kitchen to boot. It was just breathtaking. Reuniting with old friends and making new ones was the theme of the weekend, and I have not danced that much in ages.

The drive back was tough because I was tired and I got lost in East Cleveland. Don't ever get lost in East Cleveland unless you're feeling like being severely threatened by big men with guns. It's so SO not fun.

The title of this post is "Stupid Nostalgia" and that is because it is 60 degrees and cool outside; it feels like fall. Now, I like fall. I think it is a beautiful season full of hot apple cider and comfortable running. But I don't like it to pop up in August and I always hate the beginning of it because it makes me feel nostalgic. And horridly depressed. And I feel like I'm on the verge of tears. I miss my mom and I miss my childhood and I want to be somewhere else but I can't think of where. It sucks and it's painful and I have never been so excited to be in 100 degree weather. ATX, here I come.

A billion years

So it's been a while since my last post, and for that I am regretful, although I was kind of in the dumps for a bit there (oh ye dissertation of great pain and agony!), so it's probably better that I didn't share. In the meantime, a few tidbits, here and there, of the past few months.

1. I am currently in the Lakewood Public Library, an independent library about 15 blocks from my house. It was recently renovated, and it is absolutely gorgeous. I'm here because my trusty Dell, which was never really that trusty, has failed once again, and is currently in the Dell hospital, hopefully being shocked into remission. Uniquely, its absence has made me far more productive on several realms. No longer faced with facebook and hulu in the evenings, I come to the library to dissertate and then annotate at home on a typewriter. Yes, I am stuck in the 19th century, but sometimes, when the thought or inspiration or motivation hits, take advantage! Progress is being made, and I hope to defend on October 3. That's the new plan anyway.

2. New York! I went to NYC to visit Sonia Plant a week after inductions. It was magical and lovely and magical and lovely, with just enough lovely weather, snarky hipsters, flower stands, delicious food, Sonia, and other old friends to make it still ring clear in my mind as a magical time and place. Just lovely. Visiting Elise, Sonia, et. al. also inspired me to pair down a bit - they live with so little because they just don't have the space (because it is SO expensive), that I decided that my crammed-full 1200 square feet must be cleaned out. I am making progress and it is good.

3. Inductions were great. I met lovely people (above all Daryl McDaniels of Run-DMC and Elizabeth Kucinich of Dennis Kucinich fame) and worked my ass off. The show was great, the after party great, and the after-after party...I'm too old for this! Regardless, I am looking forward to November's American Music Master's, which is a huge program that my department is in charge of, where I met Les Paul and Lenny Kaye last year. Woo!

4. Spring has sprung and it is just beautiful! I still miss the heat heat HEAT of Austin, but seeing the neon green of trees and flowers and plants just burst on the scene in full force is pretty damn cool. I run the Madison Marathon next week and couldn't be more excited to see Michael and Julia and Mary. Hooray!

5. Did I mention that I want to defend in October? That means getting it done by August, working on the draft, and turning it in by September. Whoa. We'll see if it can be done. ;)

6. I head to San Diego in two weeks for the IASPM conference, then to Mexico City in November for my birthday and the SEM conference and Thanksgiving and then to Spain for Christmas. Hooray!

And so, a billion years later, she writes a slightly more interesting blog.

Must write.

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Retro.

Disneyland, California ca. 1985.

Laughter!

Yesterday I had to work, teaching four hundred Girl Scouts. It was fun but tiring. The great part was that afterward, old college friends (Arlie, Peter, Jeremy H., Emily Anderson, & Jeremy Johnston) came to the Rock Hall and bopped around. Actually, that was more like the good part. Johnston was up from Cinci (haven't seen him since 2005) and Emily up from Columbus. The great part was the evening of beer and cookies that we spent at Arlie & Peter's that was complete with more laughter than I have experienced in YEARS. I laughed so hard that my cheeks hurt, my eyes burned with tears, and my tummy got cramps. We played a ridiculous game (the adjective game) and just laughed for hours. I woke up and my cheeks were sore this morning. It was just wonderful. Great to catch up with old friends, as always, but wonderful to just laugh, uninhibited, out loud, snorting, chortling, bubbling laughter! It really is some pretty great medicine.

Sicky poo.

I don't make a good sick person. Well, no one does, really, but I get especially grumpy and short-wired when sick. I'm not even drop-down drag out SICK but there's some gunk somewhere that is trying to come out and it hurts my throat and my eyes. And it doesn't help that I've been putting in killer hours at work. And I have to work tomorrow. The Girl Scouts are coming to the Rock Hall and we have to teach four classes back to back. I had been looking forward to it but between being burned out from Iowa and being sick, I just don't feel like it at all. Plus I was supposed to run 12 miles tomorrow morning. No can do. Boo hoo.

Well, enough bitching already. Let's talk about Octo-mommy. Psycho! Ok, I won't even bother going there. The irresponsible, selfish, nutcase of a crazy lady. 14 kids, no job. Sounds genius to me!

Privilege

Privilege is a funny thing. I have been very privileged growing up. My parents were careful to scout out the good schools before we moved anywhere, and I often had the choice among schools. I've done 50/50 public/private schools, bouncing all across the US. No matter what, I received excellent education. I was a good student (albeit a slightly hyper one) and I loved learning. I still do, although I'm not as good at it as I used to be. Today I taught to four different school groups. One was a suburban school, although it was pretty diverse, but the kids were super nerdy, smart kids with great vocabulary and social skills, excellent analytical skills, and a ready-to-learn attitude. They were 4th graders. My second group had kids from three different Cleveland schools, and they were in the 7th grade. Their reading comprehension was far lower than the first group, and although they were fantastic kids and great listeners, they didn't quite make the connections that the first group of kids did. They also come from one of the worst school districts in the nation with record school closings, teacher firings, and some of the lowest paid teachers around. And my gut reaction was that if I ever have a kid (who knows if that'll happen), I want my kid to be smart, curious, and creative. I don't want my kid to fall asleep because he or she hasn't gotten good sleep, or because he or she is bored. I want my kid to be engaged and into it, and it all really boils down to privilege. It saddens me that the gap between my first group of students today and the second group is only widening. And what can we do about it? Clearly No Child Left Behind has only screwed kids, teachers, and parents alike, and undoing that mess will take a long time. But even if we can undo it, there is no guarantee, especially considering that this country has been facing the same battle for decades. How do we give our kids a fair shot at education? How do we distribute those benefits across the board, for rich and poor, abused and un-abused, rural and urban? How do we give kids a fair shake, so that they can get the attention that they need and deserve? What exactly does it take? Cinderella stories are nice, but they just aren't realistic, and it seems silly that just because a kid comes from a single-parent welfare home that that child should suffer in the classroom and be neglected. What is it that we need to do? I believe that increasing arts programs in the schools is a good step, because it gives students a window into other learning opportunities. It gives them a different kind of filter or lens through which they can see their world. I led a professional development workshop last night where a photography teacher here in Cleveland is giving inner city kids a fair shake at trying creativity instead of violence. She has saved kids from the street by giving them rules, guidelines, and a camera. It's amazing what these kids can do, and what they could have done long ago if given the options. But with 45 kids per classroom in the Cleveland Metropolitan School District, it's no wonder that these kids barely stand a chance to graduate, let alone be able to read at their grade level. Anyway, the disparity between the two groups this morning, between one school vs. three others really had me questioning privilege and what I would do with my own, non-existant, unnamed child.

Job? Who, me?

Me and Tim Rice

Back from an exhausting week in Iowa. It was the best of times, it was the coldest of times, it was the craziest of times. It also made me realize (or come closer to the realization) that I am, in fact, an adult. I had responsibilities that weren't just behind the scenes. Instead, about two thousand people saw my work up close and in person. This alone is terrifying enough, and being recognized as some kind of authority, representing my place of employment, just adds to the fire. I have a job. I am a professional. WTF, mate? I'm no longer a grad student. Well, I am, but not in the same way that I was before. I'm learning about a different kind of politics, a different kind of hierarchy, professionalism, and responsibility. It certainly is new and interesting. Furthermore, I am learning new skill sets including production, wrangling, transportation, and interviewing (not just in the ethnographic way that I'm used to). It was one of the longest weeks that I've had in a long time, but I did enjoy the challenge, even though it kicked my butt from here to Timbuktu. I barely survived a family meltdown, teaching Iowa's children, iceburg lettuce, Buddy Holly fans (that's for another day, another blog), mullets, photography faux pas, and sub-zero temps, among other adventures. I did, however, meet some incredible people. Among my favorite was lyricist Sir Tim Rice, a delightful, goofy, and brilliant man. Then there was Graham Nash, who is every bit the peace-loving ex-hippie you would expect him to be.
















Me and Gordon Waller from Peter and Gordon

And Geezer Butler, bassist for Black Sabbath whose Birmingham accent and phrases were often beyond comprehension but who is the nicest heavy metal vegan I have had the chance to meet. And then just cool people at the Surf Ballroom, some great media guys from random TV, newspaper, and radio companies around the country, and a neat production team. It was, I repeat, utterly exhausting, but good. Whew.















Will and Graham Nash

Surfin' in Iowa

I am in Clear Lake, Iowa where the temps are hovering around zero, but the sun is shining on the glittering snow. Sounds romantic, right? Well, nothing romantic about the Mason City Holiday Inn, but everything romantic about the Surf Ballroom. The Surf is the last place where Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and the Big Bopper performed before they died in a plane crash. Not only that, but the Surf is a tremendous venue all around and has recently become a non-profit entity. Why am I here? It's the fiftieth anniversary of the day "the music died," and the Rock Hall is co-hosting a series of events, from classes to symposiums to concerts, honoring those legends and their legacies. It's a tremendous program, and exhuasting, but it's truly amazing. This is such a landmark in American cultural history, and I am so fortunate to be part of it. I have met and spent time with Bobby Vee, the Fireballs, Maria Elena Holly (Buddy's widow), Ritchie's family, and others. Graham Nash, Sir Timothy Rice, Bob Hale, Jimmy Clanton, Wanda Jackson, Los Lobos, and others are trickling in, and are participating in concerts and panels. It's surprisingly magical, and extremely emotional. These are some of the legends who shaped the history of rock and roll, and I am excited to meet them.

Hope!

For once, I am really and truly proud to be an American. Or better yet, a United Statesian (estadounidense). I am proud of our country, our decisions, and our new leader. I am filled with hope. Bring it, Barack.

Nicknames

Growing up, my family called me Ka. They still do. Other than that, it wasn't until college when people started to give me nicknames. People in my dorm started calling me Kat because there were so many Kathryns, Katies, and Kathys on my floor. Then I went to Spain where Kathryn isn't exactly an easy one to spell or pronounce, so I became Kati. I've always been sensitive to the spelling of my name, and it drives me nuts when it's spelled wrong. But for some reason, I never really solidified the way Kati was spelled. So my friends in Spain and Peru spell it every which way; the only common demoninator is that it begins with a K, which I was quick to enforce. My friend Esther spells it Katty, Irene spells it Katy, others spell it Kati, and still others Katti. I guess because it's only my name in parallel worlds that it doesn't bother me not having a codified spelling of this random nickname that I never imagined I would have. I lived in Spain in 1999-2000 and am still close with the whole gang, and they all spell my name differently. And it doesn't bother me in the least. Random interesting fun fact of the day!

Up and Down

Work has been CRAZY. In one day I taught 200 inner city kids, designed a brochure, led a professional development program and called Sir Timothy Rice (of Andrew Lloyd Weber fame) to ask for a photograph for a program for an upcoming event. WTF? Crazy but distracting. In a good way. It's hard to focus. Especially when it's -9 out. Luckily tomorrow I am going to buy a mag trainer to hook my bike up to so I can exercise indoors. I draw the line at 0. Anything below zero is unfit to run in. There have been ups and downs, but thank God for my friends. They are my lifelines.
















I straightened my hair for kicks today. Never again. What a pain in the ass.

I am trying...

...not to hate on Cleveland. I think the deal is that I feel trapped. I'm living paycheck to paycheck and I've made about zero progress on the diss. I hate that I can't just up and go to Peru. I hate that I have to work in the summer. I hate that I can't just do what I want to do. I love the gig, but I miss the freedom. I know I can leave at any time, except that I can't. It's pricey and just not feasible. Aaaarrrggghhhh.

Welcome to the Beginning of the Rest of Your Life

Ok, so that title is a bit dramatic, but I feel like a different person at 30. And I'm 30, baby! So entering a new decade is a big deal, dammit, and I'm excited about what's to come.

I never make New Year's Resolutions. I never really have, probably mostly because of their notoriety for breaking easily. It's like they're fine china. Regardless, I think I might give it a shot this year. And I'm not going to call them NYRs. Instead, I'm going to call them NYBEs, or New Year's Best Efforts. I think I'd be disappointed if I resolved to change something or approach something differently and I didn't do it. But I can certainly make my best effort to do or become XYZ. Catch my drift?

NYBEs for the next twelve months or so (in no particular order):
1. Run two marathons.
I'm running Madison in May. But what about Chicago or Columbus in October? I need running goals because without them, I don't run as often . I kind of need something to keep me focused, and having an end goal is that. I don't know if two marathons that close together is a bit ambitious (a few of us ran two marathons in 2005, but one was in February and one was in October), but we'll see. If it doesn't happen, oh well.

2. Do a tri
There's a great triathalon sprint (.5 miles swimming, 15 miles biking, 10k running) in Cleveland in June. My running partner loaned me a fancy road bike, and I think I'm going to do it. I've been threatening to do a tri for a while now, and I think this is the year.

3. Curb my swearing
I swear too much. And the funny thing is that I never swore before grad school. I think living with Sam and Miranda opened the door to the possibility of the f*bomb, but I'm taking it to a new level. I work with little kids and teachers all day. It's time to not worry if that is going to pop out at any given time.

4. Organize?
I have a lot of stuff. I have a hard time organizing all of it. I'd like to start pitching it, realizing the waste that is sucking out my life. We'll see how it goes, but I don't like being a slave to things.

5. Graduate with my Ph.D.
This is the most difficult NYBE. I don't really want to talk about it (or write about it here) because of the level of anxiety it induces. Here's hoping I can OWN that anxiety and use it for good. Please note that I am blogging right now instead of writing. Ha!

6. Budget the books
I don't manage my money. It flies out the window, and I don't even go out here in Cleveland. I'm 30. It's time to learn to live like a grown-up.

Are these NYBEs possible? I hope so. I'll give it a whirl! The only one that will kill me if it doesn't happen is the graduation. That'll be REALLY disappointing.

On another note, how about a cheer for some good albums that came out this year? I don't really buy that many new albums, but there were a few that caught my ear that I really dug.

TV on the Radio, Dear Science
This band is so extraordinary. They are phenomenal musicians and songwriters, but it's the production value that sets them apart from the rest. This album is catchy and interesting, and you hear new layers of stuff all the time.

Kanye West, 808s & Heartbreak
Ok, so Kanye is always pretty good, but what's really interesting about this album is how much it's not a hiphop album. It's a thoughtful, digital pop collection of great, albeit heartbreaking, tunes. Dig it.

Wynton Marsalis and Willie Nelson, Two Men Playing the Blues
This is a live recording from January of 07, but it is just great. It's warm and fuzzy and catchy and just plain feelgood. I love it!

Vampire Weekend, Vampire Weekend.
I hate loving it. But I do! It's so good! Melodic, Afro-pop yumminess with just enough hipster to get your inner skinny-pant wearing rocker totally dancing.

Bon Iver, For Emma, Forever Ago
Ok, so you might want to slit your wrists listening to these sad, sad, lo-fi songs, but they're beautiful. What Bon Iver does with just his voice and a guitar on a multi-track recorder in the middle of BFE Minnesota is pretty stunning and elegant. Perhaps only for the nostalgic or faint of heart.

Mika, Live Parc Des Princes Paris
Guilty pleasure Euro-pop trashy (although creative) dance music. So much FUN!

Anyway, bring it on, 09!