An Exchange of Words: David B. Coe’s Weblog

Survived my soon-to-be-a-teenager’s birthday party last night.  We rented out the swimming pool again and served the usual birthday fare (Pizza, carrots, grapes, soda, cupcakes — not the healthiest, but not the worst either).  The kids seemed to have a great time and once again Nancy and I avoided having the party at our house.  Can’t put a price on that.  Two of the girls slept over, but even that went well.  They were quiet by 11:30; asleep by midnight.  Not bad at all.

Was going to blog about some political stuff today — again.  But it’s gorgeous out and my younger daughter wants to have a catch and really what could I say that hasn’t already been said?

Have a great Sunday all. 

Today’s post, “A Holiday for Storytellers,” can be found at http://magicalwords.net.  Enjoy!

Late post today, which may be a taste of things to come.  I started writing a new book this morning.  (Yay!)  Book three of the Blood of the Southlands trilogy (no title yet).  And I think that rather than blog first and then turn to the book, I need to get my quota done for the book before I allow myself to blog.  We’ll see.

Anyway, this was a good day.  I usually struggle with the first pages of a book.  I can spend a couple of days on the first page or two.  But a scene kind of presented itself to me last night, so this morning I knew pretty much how to start the thing.  I still only a wrote a small bit — about a thousand words.  But for a first day on a first chapter, that’s pretty good.

So I rewarded myself by making a big pot of chili.  It’s cooking now — the whole house smells like chipotle and bell peppers and cumin.  Spring has come to Tennessee, but it’s rainy and just a little raw today.  Good chili weather and probably the last that we’ll have before the warm weather sets in.

A new book.  A pot of chili.  All I need is a beer and I’ll be set.  Think I’ll see to that now.

Today’s music:  Pat Metheny (Day Trip)

Like so many people, I wear many hats in my life.  I’ve worn many of them while posting to this blog:  parent, husband, writer, businessman, academic, political junkie, sports fan, etc.  This morning I’ve been wearing another of my hats, one that people outside of Sewanee rarely see.  

I’m the coordinator for our local food buying cooperative.  Every month, a group of us orders organic foods, bulk grains and dried goods, and other hard to find items from a place called United Natural Foods, Inc.  The order arrives by truck, and we unload our items, sort them, and make certain everyone’s order is complete.  After the other members give me their checks, they go off to their homes to put their goods away, and I go to the bank to deposit their payments so that the check I just wrote to UNFI’s truck driver won’t bounce.  That’s what I was doing today; this was delivery day.

This is a volunteer position, one that I took on long ago because Nancy and I wanted access to certain foods that we couldn’t get any other way.  Between collating the orders, communicating with my buying club members, taking care of invoicing, and handling the finances on delivery day, I put in maybe five hours or so each month.  I don’t think it comes to much more than that.

This is a small town, and most people know me for my writing, or through Nancy or the girls, or from other volunteer work I’ve done for the youth soccer league and the kid’s summer swim league.  There are a few people who now know me because of my photography, which is kind of cool.  And there are also certain people around here who think of me simply as the Co-op guy.  

I’m fine with that.  It’s just another hat. 

What do Darryl Strawberry, Liza Minnelli, and James Taylor have in common?  Okay, yes, they all have had problems with substance abuse.  Let me be a bit more specific.  What do they (and Little Feat keyboardist Bill Payne) have in common with me?

Yup, that’s right.  Today is our birthday.  All of us.   And, I’m happy to the report that of the five of us, I’m the youngest.

I’ve never been much of a Liza Minnelli fan — just not my style of entertainment — and though I liked Darryl Strawberry when he was with the Mets, I was deeply disappointed in the way his career ended.  I’m sure he was too.  But I have been a fan of James Taylor since I was seven years old and my older brother first played for me his brand new copy of Sweet Baby James.  When the rest of my friends were listening to Free To Be You and Me and other insipid kids’ music, I was listening to Mud Slide Slim and One Man Dog.  When my cool friends in junior high were listening to Zeppelin and CSN and the Dead, I was too, but I was also listening to Gorilla and In the Pocket.  I didn’t tell my friends, of course.  James wasn’t cool; at least he wasn’t to them.  Once I reached high school I started caring less what other people thought of my musical taste.  I listened to JT and Flag and Dad Loves His Work, and I didn’t hide it from anyone.

I still listen to James Taylor.  I have pretty much every album he’s put out (except for the disc of Christmas tunes and some greatest hits collections made up of songs I already have on other recordings).  And I still encounter people who make it clear to me that this is not cool music, that it’s too mellow, too close to “Easy Listenin’”.  I couldn’t care less.  For me James Taylor’s music is like New York style pizza.  It’s like Guy Gavriel Kay’s Fionavar Tapestry.  It’s like M*A*S*H reruns.  It might not be the finest music in the world, but it’s familiar, and it’s comforting, and it’s damn good.

Taylor’s lyrics have always been sensitive and insightful.  At times they’re brilliant.  The song “Gaia” on the Hourglass album might be the most moving elegy for our environment anyone has written.  His melodies manage to be appealing without being trite.  

It’s been forty years since his first release; thirty-eight since “Fire and Rain” reached number 3 on the Billboard Top Forty. Taylor has enjoyed a good deal of success at points in his career.  He’s experienced lean periods as well.  But he never sold out, never tailored (pardon the pun) his sound to the market.  Forty years.  You’ve got to admire that.

James Taylor turns sixty today.  And as one birthday boy to another, I wish him the best, and I thank him for all that his music has given me over the years.

Today’s music:  “One Man Dog”

 Okay, I’m sitting in a coffee house here in downtown Sewanee (such as it is)  because my car is in the shop for an oil change.  And I’m having my usual, which is a strawberry banana smoothie with yogurt and apple juice. (They call it “The Town Tramp” for reasons I’ve yet to figure out.)  Anyway, what comes on the stereo mix here in the shop?  Nickel Creek’s “Smoothie Song.”  Not sure what that means, but there you go.

Happy birthday to my brother, Jim.  If you’d like to join me in wishing him a happy birthday, check out his web site.  He’s an amazing artist and his work is well worth a look.

Should also mention that I’ve done a separate post today at http://magicalwords.net.

Many of you know that I used to have a dog — Buddy, the Wonder Dog.  He died a year and a half ago, while we were in Australia, and I miss him every day.  Some friends here in town are dog owners now, and they went out of town for the week, leaving their adorable dog, Violet, with us.  Turns out, while I miss Buddy and like Violet very much, I don’t miss being a pet owner.  I’ve gotten used to not having to walk a dog on cold winter nights.  I’ve gotten used to not  having a dog dig up the yard or bark at passing deer.  I’ve gotten used to not seeing or smelling dog food.  Good thing it’s only for the week.

I feel that I should have something intelligent to say about last nights primary results, but I really don’t.  I’m kind of conflicted about the whole thing.  I wrote yesterday that I hoped Obama would win Ohio and Texas and put this thing to rest.  I still believe that Obama is the one candidate who might truly fundamental reform our political system.  But I also think that the final few days of this weeks campaign revealed weaknesses in Obama as a candidate that could be a problem in November.  Now, I’m not saying that these are fatal weaknesses.  But I’d like to see him recover from them; I’d like to see him handle this situation with the economic advisor who spoke to the Canadian trade reps; I’d like to hear him address more fully his real estate transaction with Tony Rezko.  I don’t think Obama is guilty of anything.  I don’t think he meant to make misleading statements about the NAFTA thing.  I do think he handled these matters poorly in the days leading up to yesterday’s primaries, and I think that these blunders, more than anything else, led to his defeats yesterday.  People in Texas who made up their minds in the last three days before the primary broke for Clinton 2 to 1.  She didn’t win with advertising; he lost with indecision and a sudden, uncharacteristic lack of resolve.  People in his campaign are complaining about Clinton “going negative.”  Ha!  Wait until he goes up against the Republican smear machine.  I want to know that he can stand up to what the wingnuts on the right are going to throw at him, and I want to know that this week’s mistakes were hiccups, rather than harbingers of more serious troubles to come.  I don’t regret voting for him on Super Tuesday, but at this point I need some reassurance that he really is the right candidate to go up against McCain.

Gotta say, I love this wireless thing.

Smoothie’s gone.  Think I need a muffin.  Later.

My local newspaper ticked me off this morning.  At least half of it did.  For those of you who don’t know, the Chattanooga Times-Free Press used to be two papers, one progressive, the other conservative.  The papers merged and since neither editorial board was willing to cede control of content or opinions to the other, they both maintained (and continue to maintain) editorial pages.  Anyway, the conservative side of the paper was attacking Barack Obama today for saying that he thought the United States should use foreign aid funds to combat world poverty.  According to the paper, Obama’s proposal would cost up to $865 billion over 13 years.  Nevermind that the war in Iraq, which this side of the paper supports wholeheartedly, would cost more than twice that amount over the same period.  Wouldn’t combatting poverty be a better use of our treasure and power?  Isn’t it possible that we’d be thought of better throughout the world if we were as generous with food and medicine as we are aggressive with guns and bombs?

My daughter (the older one) is reading the Constitution and Bill of Rights for homework.  And because it’s densely written, and because Dad has a Ph.D. in history, we’ve been going through it together whenever she has trouble deciphering a section.  Reading it through once more, explaining to her what the clauses mean and why they’re important, I’m struck repeatedly by the genius of the Founders.  In particular I was struck by the following clause in Article I, Section 8, which gave Congress the power “To promote the progress of science and useful arts by securing for limited times to authors and inventors the exclusive right to their respective writings and discoveries.”  My daughter thought it very cool that the copyright I enjoy on my books is provided for in the Constitution.  I thought it was cool that our Founders so prominently recognized the importance of the arts and sciences, even if our current leaders do not.

One of my dearest friends from college, Carla Wise, a brilliant, wonderful woman who has studied science and ecology for years and years, is now making a go of writing professionally.  Her focus is on sustainable agriculture and the local foods movement.  Here’s a link to her latest blog post, which is well worth reading:  http://eatdrinkbetter.com/

I’m not fool enough to think my Giants actually have a chance today, but I do plan to enjoy the game anyway.  Friends are coming over.  I’m making a big pot of chili (and so is one of said friends – we’re having our own little Chili Super Bowl), we have chips and pretzels and beer, maybe we’ll have a fire going in the family room.  This is our one chance each year to be Typical Americans, and we plan to enjoy it.   I mean, Tom Petty’s doing half time — how much should it matter if the Giants get blown out, right?

Right.  But it sure would be sweet if they actually won….

Today’s music:  Sister Hazel (...Somewhere More Familiar)

Great Concert last night.  We weren’t in the front row, after all.  But fifth row center was pretty good.  And the jambalaya Nancy made for dinner was phenomenal.

The Preservation Hall band is a traveling version of the band that plays on Bourbon Street in the Big Easy.  There were seven men in the band last night — pianist, drummer, bassist, trombonist, trumpeter, alto saxophonist, and tenor saxophonist.  I’d bet money that every one of them was old enough to collect social security.  But man, could they play.  Five of the seven took turns singing.  All of them took solos.  And at the end of the show they came down off the stage, walked around the auditorium, and led a long line of people from the audience back onto the stage, where they danced to the last song — “When the Saints Go Marching In,” of course.  

It was a great audience, too.  Lots of college students, naturally, but there were kids there as young as 4 or 5, and adults who were a good deal older than the band members.  My kids loved the show, as did Nancy, who isn’t much of a jazz fan.  These guys were not only great musicians, but they were also wonderful entertainers.  Terrific show; terrific evening.

Today’s “music”:  “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me” on NPR

One of the great advantages of living in a college town, even if it is in the middle of nowhere….

Tonight, the Preservation Hall Jazz Band, straight from New Orleans, will be playing here in Sewanee.  We’ll be in the front row.  And to celebrate the occasion we’re having — what else — jambalaya for dinner.  Rice, shrimp, andouille sausage….

More on the concert tomorrow.

Today’s music:  Need I say?