Ramsayings

First, I love Demolished Thoughts. I feel like I’m getting to that age where I’m comfortable enjoying albums by my ’90s heroes unapologetically, despite knowing in my rational mind that they’re sad imitations of their Great Works. To me, Demolished Thoughts is a great Sunday morning album, and last I checked, there are lots of Sunday mornings where that brand of acoustic strum is absolutely necessary.

Last night’s show was also very good in that way Thurston Moore shows are good: he’s this dopey manchild with a real thirst for knowledge. He’s pretentious to a fault and last night was no exception. The interstitial poems I could’ve done without, but by the same token, his hilariously overwrought poetry took me back to the place when I first started listening to Sonic Youth. His brand of dorky paternalism, i.e. the “I, character in this song, will protect you, afflicted putatively female character of song, from these dumb jock miscreants.” It’s cute in this totally hackneyed I-can-still-regurgitate-assorted-gender-studies-talking-points sort of way. I mean, I remember the ’90s, too, and sometimes I’m embarrassed for how I acted then. I think Thurston feels this way, too.

When it was over I was mostly saddened that he played “Benediction” without mentioning Jack Rose, for whom the song is supposedly written. Maybe I can blame Byron Coley for the bad poetry.

Here’s how I fought Hurricane Irene last weekend in Philadelphia, PA:

• Drove wife and son to be with family in northern Va as they prepared to vacation in, gulp, Corolla, NC this week.
• Watched news at mother-in-law’s house. Wondered if Outer Banks would still exist.
• Slept.
• Drove home to Philly at 6 AM. Caught in traffic twice behind terrible accidents. Wondered if I’d be stuck in traffic for hours both times.
• Upon arriving home, made perfunctory gestures at shoring up basement storage.
• Ate hot dog lunch in a light rain at Memphis Taproom Beer Garden.
• Ratcheted up panic by watching national and local news outlets.
• Didn’t eat dinner. Drank a pitcher of daiquiris instead while watching Bourne Supremacy with friends.
• Hid in bathroom, then basement during tornado watch.
• Fell asleep around midnight.
• Awoke to howling rain at 2:43 am.
• Checked basement and ceilings. Found no leaks.
• Tried falling asleep. Couldn’t.
• Stayed awake until dawn when storm relented.
• Walked over to friend’s house for coffee.

Hunter Pence. It’s going to take the rest of the season for me to decide how he improves this team. I know people are excited, but I think there are other issues, notably the presences of Wilson Valdez and Ben Francisco, who have lately become surplus to requirements. Removing Dom Brown from the everyday lineup doesn’t improve the Phillies chances come postseason play.

I still think the Phillies match up well against any team they could face in the playoffs, but I hate to think that banged up veterans like Polanco or Ibanez could come up short when it matters most.

What a wonderful party in the park! Feels like it was only yesterday that he turned one: the Buttercream cupcake truck; a professional photographer; tons of friends and family and a hot day on Lemon Hill for a very excited (and sleepy) one-year-old boy. Now he’s two and the changes are so dramatic it’s hard to keep up. He’s picking up more language every day, expressing himself more verbally than physically, which is a relief for all persons in his vicinity, especially house pets.

It was so great to see Mark and Erin out with Elena at almost two weeks and to see Armando and Rebecca with Lily when they were just hours from being parents again. Welcome Rio! Charlie was thrilled as ever to see his aunt Eileen and her puppy Jax as well as his “Damma” and Grandpa, not to mention my mom, who managed not to get too lost in Strawberry Mansion before finding us on Lemon Hill. GPS is a wonder except in some urban environments apparently.

It was so nice to encamp on Lemon Hill for a lovely June afternoon spent with friends and family and food. Bittersweet that we say goodbye yet again to our friends Tony and Katie as they embark on a cross-country trip to Seattle for a few years. Can’t wait to visit! I’ve seen a few episodes of “The Killing” so I just know it’s going to be a beautiful place to live and work.

We’ve managed to survive two years of very little sleep to raise a beautiful little boy and I can honestly say I’ve loved every minute, even when I’m awake at 4 am watching reruns of “Golden Girls” on the couch.

Can I just say that being a baseball fan in this town would be much easier if people didn’t panic every time their first place team slumped? Slumps end. Appreciate the pitching that you’re seeing every night out there. Home runs are fun, but what we’re witnessing is downright magical. Soak it in. Luxuriate in it. It won’t be long before we’re bitching and moaning about this team in earnest. I fully expect my son to grow up an Indians fan just like his dad.

(Confession: I decided to love a team that was even worse than the Phillies. In Pennsylvania. True story.)

That said, it’s a much easier to team to watch when the worst bats in the lineup could still drive a ball into the left field seats. Stay gold, J-Berry!