I wish the world was flat like the old days

There is something about live performance that puts me back together again – it can be music, theatre, whatever – but there is something about sitting down and watching someone conjure something that is otherworldly. Not to borrow from Brookem’s book of course!

Watching Death Cab for Cutie take the stage and pull the crowd in was incredible, they had the proper vibrancy to flannel ratio of any good Washington kids. As they played the huge venue started to sound like it had the air sucked out of it as people started to listen. Young Mister Ben Gibbard repeatedly hurled a guitar (not in a ‘catch me’ way) at some poor guitar tech when the pedals and guitar weren’t picking up after repeated examination, which was hard to watch cause the kid could have been hurt but the rest of the band made small talk while Ben smashed his pedals into the ground and generally lost his shit.

But you know what? They closed with the 12 min. epic Transatlanticism so I love them, and Murphy’s Law dictates if you don’t do a sound check prepare for things to go wrong. Learn the law kids!

Neil Young was outstanding, his gravelly and keening voice whipped the crowd into a frenzy and for someone who has sung their songs many thousands of times, it all sounded fresh.

My city is where Neil grew up and its denizens are nothing if not bitter about their best and brightest growing up and blowing away without coming back to say hi or raving about how amazing his birthplace is. Like residents of anywhere in Canada other than Toronto or Vancouver We have a major inferiority complex – we want to know that good things come from our breeding grounds because that is somehow reflective of us, and who we are. Last night Neil finally talked to the crowd, which he hasn’t in previous performances here, and finally praised us. I think everyone who was at the show left feeling vindicated, proud, and mightily relieved.

That inferiority complex is something that’s hard to reckon with when you live in a place where, eventually, nearly everyone leaves. Taking the leap from renting to owning a home here this summer was a lot of fun, but also terrifying because nearly everyone I know has plans kicking around the backs of their heads to eventually up and leave. What does it say about the people who stay? Do we settle? Do we under achieve? Is there a giving up?

I don’t know how long I can see myself here for exactly, but I probably be one of the people who stays here. I like that I’m so close to Minnesota, and I’m hoping to eventually telecommute & freelance so that it won’t matter where I live.

When I get off the bus and start walking towards home, every so often Mister has been able to sneak off work early and takes the puppies for a walk to the bus to greet me. From blocks away I can see his long black work coat, and the bounding balls of energy that walk beside him. I’ll wave, and he’ll wave back, and we’ll wait to see how long it takes for the puppies to recognize me and start running at full speed towards me.

It’s moments like that where I feel like I could stay here forever. The city that my hobbit home resides in will be between me, the mister, and the puppies – and I don’t need Neil Young’s approval.