Like many other people, I am massively obsessed with Michelle Obama. Massively. THIS website follows her every outfit, in exhaustive detail, but also with tons of r’spect and love.
I am trying to figure out if I can pull off a brooch ala Mrs. O. Do I have lots of other things to be doing? Why, yes. But I need to ponder this brooch issue for a few hours. Excuse me.
I just wrote all that sad song stuff and then read THIS about a giant hero named Ron Borowski giving an elderly woman an incredible birthday gift. We should all try to be as kind as this motorcycle dude.
Viva la vida!
Fiona has some songs that are necessary for feeling properly sad.
“I KNOW”. Here’s one VERSION, which unfortunately has a little edit, but it’s still awesome; and here’s another live at the beautiful old LARGO. This song literally gives me the chills. Not figuratively. I’m not just saying that to impress upon you that it’s amazing. I get a little ghosty chill in my actual body when I hear it.
“PARTING GIFT”. “It ended bad, but I love where we started.” This is how I try to remember all of them. I mean, I try to try.
“WHAT’LL I DO?” What will I do? I don’t know…hmm.. Usually what I will do whenever I hear this song is want to cry in a profound way over every person I’ve ever loved and lost, as if it just happened yesterday. Not even in the morning yesterday. Even more recently than that. Just last night yesterday. There are so many famous versions of this tune, but Harry Nilsson’s is really, really sad. Don’t let the grand orchestral stuff shake you from appreciating the complete despair of Harry’s voice. It’s some really excellent despair. And I think that the lyrics to this song are pretty much first place in the sad breakup lyrics contest. Oh, Irving Berlin. You’re really very talented.
It’s snowing. Hard. For some reason, my building, which is usually a very responsible building, is not sending up any heat through the radiators. So today I am sitting inside wearing a scarf. That’s not a very good sign about the temperature of your building. To take the edge off this, I am listening to Stevie Wonder’s “Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing” which is the song I listen to when I need to not worry about things.
Did I ever tell you the Stevie Wonder story? I saw him at Hollywood Bowl last summer and he was incredible. Played for over two hours, passionately laying into all the hits as me and my friend ate cheese and drank sangria. And then, at the end of the night, as his backing band (which included, at times, his seven year old son on drums) played “Superstitious,” Stevie got up to say goodbye. But that’s not exactly what he said. He said, “Now it’s time for me to leave you. But know that I never really leave you.”
Somehow that got me. The fact that he went to the trouble of saying it, plus the fact that he is Stevie Wonder, made it feel true. And there are moments now when I listen to his music and it feels truer and truer.
Along these lines – something that I’ve wanted to post here because it made me incredibly happy: Bruce Springsteen, he of the crotch in your face super bowl performance, blogged his experience of the half time show. I have a special place in my heart for Bruce, who I came to kind of late. That a guy who’s been doing it for so long can still write about a show with this kind of excitement and joy is a fucking wonderful thing. Read it HERE.
(A sexy/funny/awesome live Bruce video right in this LINK here. I was noodle oodling around youtube a few years ago and found this Bruce performance of “Fire,” a song I made out to in college a million years ago, and I was both delightfully aroused and amused. The money shot is his final line near the very end. You’re welcome.)
Lastly, one other thing I wanted to put here: I’ve been loving the stuff Maira Kalman draws on the nytimes blog. I want to eat brownies with her.