It’s hard to applaud anyone for saying something so obviously right but some people’s voices just matter more, so when I read that Barack Obama came out supporting gay marriage, I smiled and felt a certain peace knowing that what I have always known was now confirmed by the most powerful human in the universe.
This is a victory for Love, Freedom, and Justice. That is Truth, and progressively, Hate, Bigotry and Intolerance fade as people realize that Beauty, Fulfillment and Joy are infinitely better choices.
Long Live Love!
The Bruins lost on a game 7 overtime winner from The Capitals’ Joel Ward; a sudden, soul-sucking death that denied their Cup defense.
The Celtics start the playoffs tomorrow as resurgent favorites to make a run at another Championship.
The Red Sox started as abysmally as last year, Bobby V got booed, and since then they’ve won five straight and averaged 10 runs a game.
The Patriots shocked everyone at the draft by trading up twice in the first round then selecting virtually unknown Tavon Wilson in the second round.
It doesn’t always involve victory, but as entertainment it is always glorious.
I’m pretty sure I laughed when I first heard “The Robots” for the first time in 9th grade. It was… ridiculous. I had never heard anything like it before and it truly seemed like a parody, yet there was something ingenious about it that I couldn’t quite comprehend. When I finally came around and really started listening to electronic music ten years later, it dawned on me that Kraftwerk were true pioneers and far ahead of their time.
I saw them perform seven years ago and they absolutely blew my mind with a triptych of video projections at Hammerstein Ballroom, but last night the venue was MOMA and the video was 3D. It was… ridiculous. The influence is obvious today in music everywhere, including my own.
soundcloud.com/stephenjacksontaylor/way
soundcloud.com/stephenjacksontaylor/un
I welcome the end of Winter because Summer is sweet, but I always feel a tinge of remorse to see the snow melt away and know that I won’t be back on skis for another eight months. The season typically ends with some Spring slush runs and over the last 10 days I have experienced this transition at Stowe, where we were skiing over huge dirt patches in 70 degree sunshine in the brightest ski attire we could find, and in Whitefish, Montana, where I went to visit my college roommate, Marty and his family.
The first day actually had mid-winter conditions and we hiked into the Canyon for some delicious powder and had a day of hoots and hollers stomping through 3000 acres of stashes at Big Mountain. The temperature was close to freezing and as a snow junkie, that is a crucial threshold… The next day, Spring arrived and dashed our dreams of pioneer powder: we rode snowmobiles deep into the wilderness and established a road to the top of a steep pitch covered with perfectly spaced trees. One snowmobile towed three skiers up to the top and then turned around to head down and pick us up at the bottom. The sun can be the ultimate outdoor pleasure, but on this day it turned our pristine powder into thick cement and robbed us of a last dance with winter’s bounty. We turned to our snowmobiles for some alpine exploration, but even that proved a challenge in the mashed potatoes, getting stuck and digging out repeatedly. It was my first experience on a snowmobile and I had some epiphanies about these machines:
1.) It felt like what I imagine riding a Speeder Bike from “Return of the Jedi”/Mariokart would feel like. 2.) It is incredibly fast and powerful. 3.) It doesn’t always turn when you want it to. 4.) It requires a full body strength to maneuver. 5.) It allows quick access to terrain that is unattainable with any other mode of transport in any other season. 6.) It is very fun to ride.
Tuesday was my official farewell to the ski season and while most of the mountain hadn’t softened up enough from the overnight freeze to make one last aggressive day, the groomers did provide some high speed bombing and I went out in a blaze of gravity. It was a quick vacation and smooth transition into Spring in one of the most beautiful settings this country has to offer. I feel lucky that I will have the opportunity to return there this summer for Marty and Sandy’s wedding and to enjoy the sun and warmth in all its glory, with Winter skiing just a memory or a dream.
When I read the first Winter Weather Warning for last weekend, I immediately sent an email to a few fellow snow worshipers and quickly had a party and location: Stowe, Vermont. The first wave of snow hit on Thursday, dumping 6″ on the region. I drove up Friday morning and hit up the all-time classic Mad River Glen for some single chair and steep glade action. It did not disappoint with its perfect bumps and long, twisting, desolate runs. The second wave hit that afternoon and for the next 30 hours dumped two feet plus in some places, so on Saturday and Sunday I found bountiful pillows to sink my skis into and floated through the trees with hoots and exclamations. Everyone was having a great time and relishing the moment. Skiing requires immediate focus and concentration; it is an improvised dance with the mountain and its elements, forcing you to calculate your current situation and the very next move. Past turns and next runs are memories and dreams, but every powder explosion is pure play.
President’s Day was a vacation, which meant a trip to Vacationland. I drove the 6 hours to Portland on Saturday and spent the long weekend in the company of amazing family. We dined the finest as Chefbro Andrew created some dazzling masterpieces at Hugo’s, we played hard on the Reiche’s Paddle Tennis court and enjoyed the company of parents and siblings and united families. I am always amazed by all of my relatives and lucky to be a part of their lives.
On Monday, in celebration of Washington’s Birthday, I drove up to Rangeley, ME to check out Saddleback Mountain. In perusing the internet, I found a trail map of said resort and knew I had to investigate. The entire top of the Mountain — with an elevation over 4000 feet — is covered in steep runs and beautiful glades. It is laid-back and uncrowded, which makes it pretty much my dream mountain, and despite the fact that everyone is cursing this season’s dearth of snow, the conditions were astonishingly good and iceless. This mountain kicks ass!
Last night was a delightful romp in room 3 of Radio Stars Karaoke in celebration of Annie and Erik’s engagement. They met through mutual friends and made out for the first time in the dark corner of a karaoke room so it was appropriate that we would congregate in a similar studio and sing our faces off all night long. Singing together makes bonding stronger and we are lucky to have friends who appreciate this and love to let it out from time to time. I get to sing in my classes everyday, but singing karaoke brings out the real soul!
Congratulations to Annie and Erik and I am thrilled that Annik will be exchanging vows of eternal love!
It wasn’t a moment, but it happened fast Before the final seconds passed When the truth became the past Eternal facts will always last
This can’t be real so I deny it A cosmic joke A real riot To myself I’d rather lie Than know the pain I’d rather die
And then I seethe in exploding rage The Beast is screaming in his cage My body clenches and thrashes inside Nothing stings like wounded pride
I make a plea for simple perspective Seeking solace in the nice life I live A happy past and a hopeful future But the present always looms larger
Sadness overwhelms and dulls me Depression reaches up and pulls me Down to the depths of despair and dread And no other thoughts will fill my head
Then it strikes me that it’s true And there’s nothing I can do Tomorrow is another day Acceptance is the only way
It wasn’t what I wanted to see But it is simply what came to be Vince Lombardi’s glorious trophy Not to New England but to New Jersey
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
Buster Keaton films are the very definition of classic; they are time machines to an era of simplicity and authenticity, and I am always struck by how real it all seems, despite the obvious ridiculousness of the plots and slapstick. This was filmmaking in its purest magic, before special effects became the attraction. It is the characters and the core of their actions, be they brutal physical comedy or tender facial expressions, that hold our attention and connect with an audience a century later.
Thia week I attended two evenings of the New York Guitar Festival featuring seven Buster Keaton films accompanied by different musical acts. Each artist’s take was unique and brought a fresh and live element to this classic artwork. Some of the musicians added atmosphere through propulsive rhythm or gorgeous acoustic sounds or electric feedback and synced to the action of the film at various moments. The films are short and fast-paced, with just enough time to get a sense of the musical style before the next act. It was hosted by the famous voice of NPR, John Schaeffer, who conducted an interview with each of the musicians about their approach to the project. Great acts that I had heard before included Kaki King, Keller Williams and Lee Ranaldo of Sonic Youth (who hung his guitar from the rafters and swung it over the audience as he smacked it with his hands, violin bows and drum sticks) while I was introduced to other great music by Buke and Gass (playing Baritone Ukulele and Guitar-Bass), Redhooker and my Brightest Diamond. Everyone found something in the films and amplified it with their music. Since my amazing experiences watching Philip Glass perform his score to Dracula in 2000 and Sufjan Stevens perform to film of the BQE in 2007, I have been on a quest seeking great unions of sound and visuals. These two evenings were memorable and inspiring additions to my collection.
After a dismal start to the Northeast ski season, a storm blew in on Thursday and Friday to drastically improve the situation. Knowing that I was headed to Foxborough for the Patriots-Broncos playoff game on Saturday night, I sacrificed sleep for snow and awoke in 5am darkness to head North and find the fluff. Scouring weather reports and triangulating distances between Brooklyn and Foxborough, I settled on an area I knew little about, but that seemed intriguing: Berkshire East in Charlemont, Mass. was reporting 12-14″ of freshies, so I hopped in the car and rolled into the lot at 9:30am, popped on my gear and headed into the action. First impression: a giant wind turbine on top of the hill which I later learned completely offsets all electricity costs of the ski operations. Very cool. And while that feature is futuristic, the mountain itself and all its lifts and facilities are vintage. Twin triple chairs run up the 1100 vertical feet and serve some steep and gladed terrain that compares to some of my favorite New England ski mountains, Mad River Glen and Magic Mountain. The attitude is laid-back and as I became familiar with the hill, I felt comfortable ignoring the small closed signs (no ropes) and hitting the untracked powder on some of the trails and in the trees. It’s not the biggest mountain around, but it packs a punch and after every run I was ready to rest on the lift again. Although the locals told me that it was one of the busiest days they had ever seen, I never waited more than 5 minutes in line and the trails (even the open ones) were basically empty. This is my kind of ski mountain! Under $60/day, charming atmosphere and challenging terrain make this a great choice for Massachusetts skiing! I hope to return again when more snow covers the Berkshires.
And to top off the amazing day, the Patriots (I skied in my old-school Corey Dillon jersey) crushed the Broncos and moved within two victories of reclaiming the prize that has painfully eluded the team for the past seven years. Another few storms and a Super Bowl ring would make this a glorious winter!
