It has been a long, strange, year. On one hand it felt like it disappeared without a fuss, slipping away, month by month, day by day. Winter became Spring, Summer then Fall in a blink of an eye, but so much happened, both in the world and personally that it has its own weight and import.

And now here we are. Over the anticipation and into the 3rd day of the year two thousand and twelve (try saying that three times fast) with resolutions crying to be made, and best of lists flooding the Internet. I’ve had a year of personal triumphs and losses along with professional challenges that forced us to embrace change.

So 2011, Twenty-Eleven 2-0-1-1 I’d like to bid you adieu.

Guaranty Building in Buffalo, NY

I am grateful for another year of family. For a wedding that made it grow, and for support when personal losses flew in unexpectedly.

I am grateful for another year of friends. As my thirtieth year on earth begins, having known some of these people for up to ten years has enriched my imagination, my world view, and my heart in the ways that only friends can do.

I am grateful, once again, for a year where I could walk into work and write and talk about something I believe in and love, even when it was hard (and at times, it still is). Change is a funny thing. When you know it is coming it can be frightening, a looming monolith–daunting, but as it sweeps in it can force you to look at old ways of working and push you in new directions. Optimism is my greatest weapon.

I know I haven’t made mention of some of the larger events of the year—of stories that we’ll be talking about as historians for years to come. Tsunamis, Earthquakes, Tornadoes changing the narrative of nations and small towns for decades to come. Believe me those larger events made an impact on how I view the meaning of place and where we came from in a new light. And the death of a friend this summer emphasized that life is fleeting, and that so much of what we have needs to be embraced right here, right now. 

Taliesin West in Scottsdale, AZ

And then there  are the typical “best of” lists. As always this is a reflection of things I’ve discovered/read/listened/saw this year.

Books : The Help, People of the Book, The Hunger Games Series
History Exhibitions: Maximum India, Taliesin West, Martin Luther King Memorial
Music: Sigh No More (Mumford and Sons), Collapse into Now (REM), We Are Young (Song by Fun. As heard on Glee and Chuck).
Television: Game of Thrones, Downton Abby, The Hour, Doctor Who
Movies: The Help, The King’s Speech, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II
Theatre: Les Miserables, Hamlet, The Heir Apparent

Many of the items on this list I wrote about on the blog this year, while others have flown in under the radar (including my recent love for David Tennant and Dr. Who. As a historian, watching a Time Lord fly around space during different historical periods is amusing and at times, surprisingly poignant.) Downton Abby (Season 2 starts January 8, Season 1 is available on streaming via Netflix Instant and and The Hour are two other series that I haven’t talked much about on the blog, the first has been written about in many places—great acting, great drama. The Hour, a six episode series set in England during the 1950s about a one hour news program, has an intensity that surprised me.

Each of these pieces of pop-culture fed my creative soul, made me learn something new about storytelling, and were, above all else, fun to listen to, watch, and see.

So….Twenty-Twelve, what can I expect from you?

My resolutions for the year are complicated. They range from the personal (eating habits, work out goals) to the aspirational (write more, dream more). Above all else I see 2012 as the year of getting organized, to continue to live my life in a way that helps others and sends love, peace, and kindness out in the world.

It is certainly going to be an exciting year. The Olympics, the 2012 Presidential Elections (to name two) that are sure to make headlines. There will be stories to be told, and lives that will be changed.

It is also a year of moving the needle, and raising the bar. Challenging myself to take risks and leaps that I have only taken tiny, hesitant steps towards in the past. Figuring out what does come next for me personally, professionally, and creatively. So no matter how we write it 2012, Twenty Twelve, 2-0-1-2, this is the year of living life.

Life is Bigger

I am sure many of you have heard the news. REM is over. After 31 years of working together Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, and Mike Mills have decided to move on.

I’ve taken so long to write this post, one because I was traveling (I started this on an airplane and am now finishing it on another trip), but also because I wanted to think about how I felt, especially since reactions elsewhere ran the gamut from surprise, befuddlement, to sadness.

A band born two years before my birth I am quick to admit that my gateway song into REM fandom was the ever popular Losing My Religion. As my musical education grew I found myself being drawn to songs that were a little off the beaten track (by which I mean, not Orange Crush, Stand, Man on the Moon, or Nightswimming). At present my favorite is Walk Unafraid.

Walk unafraid
I’ll be clumsy instead
Hold my love me or leave me

Say “keep within the boundaries if you want to play”
Say “contradiction only makes it harder”
How can I be
What I want to be?
When all I want to do is strip away
These stilled constraints
And crush this charade
Shred this sad masquerade
I don’t need no persuading
I’ll trip, fall, pick myself up and

Walk unafraid
I’ll be clumsy instead
Hold my love me or leave me

I’ll also admit that I kind of loved the CD reviled by many (Reveal). Especially She Just Wants To Be.

It’s not that she walked away,
Her world got smaller.
All the usual places,
The same destinations,
Only something’s changed.

It’s not that she wasn’t rewarded
With pomegranate afternoons
And Mingus, Chet Baker and chess.
It’s not the stampeding fortune,
Of prim affectations.
She’s off on her own
But she knows

Now is greater than the whole of the past
Is greater, and now she knows

She just wants to be somewhere
She just wants to be
She just wants to be somewhere
She just wants to be.

Perhaps I can say that my relationship with REM was solidified by seeing them live at the Patriot Center in 2003 where despite floor seats among a largely apathetic crowd I loved Michael Stipe’s dancing and steady vocals in addition to the energy from the whole band.

That being said REM’s last swing through Merriweather Post a few years ago with Modest Mouse and The National remains the best concert I’ve been to. With three fairly well known bands I expected a short set but REM stayed on for over two hours and put the other two to shame.

While I wrote this post I was listening to an old episode of All Songs Considered called “Splitsville: Breaking Up With Your Favorite Band“. I know that many fans out there broke up with REM a long time ago. Perhaps it’s because nothing could really compare to other earlier work, or because they stayed within their musical boundaries, which dated their sound in a world of Lady Gaga and pop music. Whatever the case may be, there is something sad about never hearing another new nonsensical yet soulful lyric.

As my bro in law said when I shared the news:

“You know, everybody hurts but I find that if I surround myself with shiny happy people holding hands, I don’t feel like I’m losing my religion…in fact, I feel like the man in the moon.”

I think what I will miss the most of all is the poetry of REM. The way the lyrics flung me into new visions and played in the background of all of my early attempts to write fiction. Despite their disbanding I look forward to their catalog inspiring me for years to come.

Oh this lonely world is wasted
Pathetic eyes, high alive
Blind to the tide that turns the sea
This storm that came up strong
It shook the trees, and blew away our fear
I couldn’t even hear


Oh this could be the saddest dusk I’ve ever seen
Turn to a miracle, high alive
My mind is racing, as it always will
My hands tired, my heart aches
I’m half a world away

A Mountain Retreat (with Sari shopping, a Movie and a Play)

One of the great things about India is that it is a place you have to experience. I can describe how we get from one place to another—squeezing into a rickshaw in damp heat, or the terror I have in crossing the street—especially when cars don’t maintain lanes…but it’s not the same as being here. However, the last few days have been a hodgepodge of new experiences, though I will report that I am no closer to getting information out of my grandmother than I was five days ago despite having an excellent birthday party, with some amazing images from her past, present and future (great-grand kids who are absolutely adorable).

Baar baar din ye aaye, baar baar dil ye gaaye
Tu jiye hazaaron saal, ye meri hai aarzoo
Happy Birthday to you

Time And Again, Let This Day Return, Time And Again Let The Heart Sing This
May You Live Thousands Of Years, This Is My Wish
Happy Birthday to you

From Faarz (1967)|Listen to the song here|

The birthday celebrations launched with a trip to Khandala—a mountain retreat about an hour outside of Mumbai. The gaggle of family members that came with me (21 in all) ranged from 80 to 3. It included uncles, aunts, cousins, cousin-in-law’s who came from India and the UAE. Aside from the general family revelry (who doesn’t love 21 people in a room with a Karaoke machine) we visited some waterfalls and had exciting encounters with crabs. The one in the picture here is one that decided it lived in my cousin’s toilet—and sometime in the night crawled out to visit.

That being said, Khandala was beautiful. A tad cooler than the city, it boasted amazing view shed’s of lush greenery, though due to low rainfall the waterfalls had been reduced to a trickle. At one point we found ourselves driving up the windy roadway engulfed in a fog bank, unable to see more than a foot in front or behind. Then there were the monkey’s that hung out on the expressway as we took pictures of the Duke’s nose on our way home.

Silky Saris and Other Shopping Fun

After our trip the shopping for the wedding began in earnest. Its hard to explain the magic of a sari shop which holds rows upon rows of the six yard long garment in varying prices, sizes, and fabrics. Some come in dual tone with nothing but embroidery while others are filled with jari (translation lots and lots of beading and stones, almost like someone ran a muck with a beadazzler). When you step into a shop you sit in front of a table and give one of two things—a price point or a description of what you are looking for. Then the sales clerks pull out product after product trying to gauge your reaction. The fun in all this is seeing the flashing color swirl around you olive greens, deep purples, pinks and lavenders, oranges and blues (sometimes on the same garment) while checking out how the blouse piece contrasts with the actual sari. Then once you decide on the color you have to remember to take a a critical eye to the “palu” the end of the garment that drapes down your back (or in front depending on how you drape the fabric—trust me, there are many, many ways). Click here for a video of how we try on Saris at the store (starring my sister).

Another way that we shop is to take older sari’s of my mothers and take it to a tailor who transforms them into gaghra choli’s (basically a blouse/skirt/scarf) or a punjabi suit (a long top with pants). In order to get those made you have to buy lining which involves a whole other type of shopping—as seen here. I know that fabric shops exist in the United States but the process of making and buying clothes here is a full-service one that uses a different set of skills than one usually uses.

Bollywood & Kaanji

I’m not going to lie. We didn’t spend all our time inside stores, ogling clothing. When we first got back from Khandala we went to see a Hindi movie called Dabaang (Fearless). It stars Salmaan Kahn, an actor who I don’t particularly like but was what we call a timepass movie. Turn off your brain and enjoy….the colors, the fights (which were a combination of Kill Bill and Matrix style feats and acrobatics). Not to mention the song and dance numbers which I still can’t get out of my head. (Click on the link for a music video).

Then on Viserajan— we decided to brave the crowds to go see my cousin’s husband in a Gujarati play, something we’ve always wanted to do but have never had the chance. I know I mentioned earlier that I don’t have a firm grasp on either Hindi or Gujarati, something I always vow to fix, but I was amazed at how much I understood. Entitled Kaanji versus Kaanji (Kaanji being another name for Lord Krishna)it was essentially an adapted piece about a man who loses his lively hood due to an earthquake (“an act of God”)  and upon being turned down for insurance decides to sue god.

It was fantastic. I’m not saying this just because my cousin was in it, but it was funny, serious, and meaningful all at the same time. It dealt with issues of spirituality, ritual, and made some cutting observations about the practice of Hinduism in the modern (and digital) age.

The final part of the play, which dealt with belief, practice, life and death asked the audience to first find god within yourself before looking for him/she/it out in the world.

This is India I suppose, one part spirituality, one part entertainment, and another part full of vivid color and family. A portrait, a rendering of philosophical theory, mixed in with millions of unique stories and lives.

Click here to view more pictures of Khandala and Shopping.

Roots. Roots. Roots. (And Lord Ganesha)

For those of you who don’t know me, I am a first generation Indian-American. My parents came to this country in the 1970s (my dad for graduate school, my mother after marriage). I’ve been back to their country of birth many times in my life, and every time I gain an increased appreciation and love for my extended family and the country in which they live.

No….this is not an Eat. Pray. Love. moment. I’m not going to tell you all of my innermost thoughts about the wonders of India and my life, but I thought I might try and blog every few days about the sights, smells, and sounds of my trip.

We are here for three reasons.

  1. My grandmother is turning eighty years old.
  2. My older sister is getting married, so naturally we are doing a little shopping.
  3. A few days of fun in Goa.

The first two are probably the most relevant for this blog—because they have to do with my personal history. Mostly because of a communication barrier, I never really asked my dad’s mom about her life growing up in India or for stories about my father—something that I regret.  And both my grandfathers passed on before I was born/old enough to ask questions. Therefore, one of my missions for the next three weeks is to get my remaining grandmother to talk. It will be tough, since in her words, she has lived eighty years’ so now all there is left to think about is eating well, living well, and having fun.

A Word About Roots

I am an ABD. An American Born Desi. I take out the “C” which stands for confused, because I don’t really believe that is an issue (and for those who don’t know a Desi is another word for someone of South Asian descent). I know where I stand—both as an American and as an individual of Indian heritage. That being said, I don’t have family that came over on the Mayflower (or the Susan Constant), or a relative that fought in the Civil War. Both sets of grandparents lived during the time of Mahatma Gandhi and Partition—both things that shaped the way my parents grew up, and consequently the way I was raised.

11 Days of Lord Ganesha

Mumbai is in full on celebratory mode. For ten days India, especially the State of Maharashtra, celebrates the birth of Lord Ganesha (otherwise known to some as the Elephant god).

A quick interlude:

Here is a one sentence crash course on Hinduism (as I see it). Hinduism is a monotheistic religion. There is one god, fathomless and infinite. In order for humans to recognize the unfathomable, God—known as Brahman is qualified into three deities—Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. These three—the Trimurti (representing the creator, maintainer/preserver, destroyer) are further broken into avatars as a means of giving a face and a name to something that is beyond human understanding. Lord Ganesha is the “child” of Lord Shiva and Parvati, and is the god of many things including new beginnings and opportunities.

So for 11 days Hindus, particularly in the State of Maharashtra (where I am) celebrate Lord Ganesha’s birth with ten days of prayer, pomp and revelry (Ganesh Chaturthi), and on the 11th day (Visarjan.)the statues are immersed and returned to the sea/ocean. This symbolizes sending Ganesh back home where he takes the misfortunes of his devotees with him. I wanted to share a few pictures of one of the statues from the city of Pune (above).

It has been an impressive cultural experience with four days filled with songs of devotion and prayer booming from loudspeakers until well past midnight, and loud bursts of fireworks coupled with dancing in the streetsright now a group is playing a flute and drums in a steady, rapid fire beat. (Click on the link to watch a video/hear the music. It is a bit dark, but makes the point).

This is one of the things I love about coming to India every few years. No experience is the same, and aside from touching base with my extended family it is nice to be fully immersed in a world that is in my blood—and is very much a part of my Indian-American life.

Understanding another culture is hard, and while India is a mix between the old and the new, it is a Nation much more complex than what you see in a Bollywood movie. So while investigating my roots, I’m going to sally forth on another one of my missions: to bring a little bit of India to this blog.

As an aside, one interesting note is the environmental impact of this festival (there is some information about it in the article linked above)–how the plaster of Paris that the statues are made of effect the bodies of water in which they are immersed.

Click here to view full album from India.

Songs of the Preservationist

Latest post from, based on a discussion from the email list I help run.

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot spot
Don’t it always seem to go
That you don’t know what you’ve got
Till it’s gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Big Yellow Taxi, Joni Mitchell

Music — a bunch of lyrics, poetry put together to a rhythm and a collection of notes that riot our emotions, pull at our heart strings, or soothe the soul. For a preservationist a song can remind us of a place, or a building; an architect or a time long past. They are sounds and words that remind us of home, a nostalgic look back that often isn’t completely rose-colored.

A few weeks ago the preservationists on Forum-L compiled a list of songs that seem to “speak” to the field. In the end, I had a list of more than 200 songs, some with obvious preservation connections, others that are more like “save our building” anthems.

Click here to read more and listen to some of the songs.

The Lies That History Tells Us

Wicked Logo
Wicked Logo

I finally did something last week that I have been looking forward to doing for months. I saw the musical Wicked. Based on the book by Gregory Maguire the story essentially inverts the Wizard of Oz on its head and and asks “What if the Wicked Witch of the West Wasn’t Wicked?” Its one of the “certain point of view” stories and the musical is filled with incredible performances and musical numbers that do everything a musical is supposed to do: make you laugh, make you cry, and make you sing.

Here are some lyrics to start this discussion (for those who haven’t read the book or seen the play, Elphaba is the Wicked Witch):

Elphaba, where I’m from, we believe all sorts of things that aren’t true.
We call it – “history.”

(sung) A man’s called a traitor – or liberator
A rich man’s a thief – or philanthropist
Is one a crusader – or ruthless invader?
It’s all in which label
Is able to persist
There are precious few at ease
With moral ambiguities
So we act as though they don’t exist

—the Wizard, “Wonderful”

When we think about and write about history we take some facts as exactly that—as facts. Hitler was evil, the Holocaust did happen, but historians know more than anyone that the “label” that persists sounds very much like the adage that “history is written by the winners.” In the case of Wicked we’re brought into a world that begins long before Dorothy takes her first steps into Oz, a land that is inhabited by animals who can talk and teach but are mysteriously becoming uncivilized and speechless.

Enter Elphaba who, in the classic hero’s journey makes sacrifices and choices to right a wrong, and ultimately finds herself vilified in the process. The ultimate strength of the story is its ability to turn the “wicked” into the underdog, and Dorothy into a footnote.

As a historian I can see how this applies. Every source we read, every oral history we listen to comes form someone with a point of view. We know that social history (that which looks at the slaves, the women, the ordinary people instead of merely the Big White Men) changed what we know about various facets of American History, and that different administrations are looked at and analyzed differently based on how conservative and how liberal our own bias’ are. We make choices as to what is important and what is not based on training and the ability to interpret and read between the lines to piece together history.

Now I’m not saying that if we looked a little bit harder the great evils of our time will miraculously be not as bad, or that the invaders will turn into “liberators.” I guess I’m merely acknowledging that what we do in thinking and writing about the past is as much of an art as it is a science and that sometimes opposing views give us a bigger picture of what actually happened.

Consider this image for another point of view:

Better History, Bitter Future
Better History, Bitter Future in Chelsea, NYC
Liberty from the Highline

While I was in NYC we walked by this piece of graffiti in Chelsea, just near the bottom of the High Line. It provides another interesting perspective. Histories document the good, the bad, and the ugly—but to some it seems like it is all with the wide brush of progress, rather then with strokes of reality. I believe that we document the past so that our futures are better, that injustices can be prevented before they happen. I’d like to think we aren’t writing better histories while ignoring the future, but do know for some, that is exactly what seems to be happening.

I am, in the end, ever the optimist, and so I’ll leave you with a few lines from another of Wicked‘s hits:

Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I’m through with playing by the rules
Of someone else’s game
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It’s time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes and leap

—Elphaba, ‘Defying Gravity”

Closing it Out (and a bit about Nashville Food)

I know it has been a few weeks since the end of the National Preservation Conference, but I wanted to make sure to provide a closing post. On Friday after dispatching the last of the field sessions those remaining in town made our way over to BB Kings for the Final Fling which included a live auction and music from Last Train Home.

Interior of the Downtown Pres. ChurchBut there was more to come. Saturday dawned bright and early for us with the Closing Plenary in the Downtown Presbyterian Church, an example of Egyptian Revival architecture. We were about to be treated to a talk by Chief Justice of Indiana Randall Shepard and Congressman and Civil Rights Leader John Lewis of Georgia.

Fisk Jubilee SingersBefore we talk about them let me say a few words about the Fisk Jubilee Singers. First started in 1876 as a means to raise money for Fisk University (the first American University to offer a liberal arts education without any stipulations as to race) the group is now known for preserving one of America’s greatest treasures—that which the website refers to as the negro spiritual. Let me say from first hand experiences that those voices rose in perfect harmony, bouncing off the walls with a clarity and resonance so vivid and vital that I got chills.

As for the talks-despite coming from two tangentially different directions (preservation and law/preservation and civil rights/politics)-Chief Justice Shepard and Congressman Lewis had ultimately one message for preservationists. The Chief Justice surmised our mission in one eloquent sentence, that “we stand up for livability, for a sense of place and architecture that lifts up the soul rather than deadens it.” His words were followed quickly by a call for continued agitation by Congressman Lewis who proclaimed that “If we do not fight for these places then history wont be kind to us.” In both speeches there was a rallying call that said, to borrow a popular phrase from the National Trust at this conference, what we do matters. That preserving buildings, music, and the spectacular architecture that Nashville has to offer effects how people live and breathe and connect with the world around them.

This dialogue intermingled with my thoughts on the music, the lights and the life in Tennessee and led me to ponder the following question: Where do we go from here?

Union Station Hotel in Nashville

All right. Maybe not. But it does allow me to segue into the final event of the conference (for me at least) which was the Forum Lunch, and I urge everyone who is interested on where Preservation should be and could be going in the next fifty years to take a look at Don Rypkema’s talk here. Particularly intriguing for me was his assertion that as historic preservationists we should work (at least in urban areas) to manage change over time and not necessarily a point fixed in time. At the heart of his talk he is asking us about how we remain relevant in a world that incorrectly sees history and historic preservation as a luxury, as something that will not create jobs, will not help the economy, and is not important enough to consider a priority at every level of living. He says that we are evolving–(for those not familiar with it, This Place Matters is a program of the National Trust that asks citizens to look at the world around them and identify the places that matter to them.)

Here is my test – look at what made the list of the National Trust’s “This Place Matters” program. Virtually none of the finalists met the test of either being an architectural masterpiece or of particular significance to our national history. Those places were nominated because they mattered to the local community and in many cases not on architectural grounds. I for one think that is a wonderful way for historic preservation to have evolved.

Stained Glass at Union Station Hotel

I say that this is exceedingly clear when we think about the evolution of historical thought in the last few decades. We have moved from looking only at the big men of history to understanding the everyday—the people on the streets, the forgotten and the silenced. Social history has done amazing things for democratizing what we know about our pasts and our future—we can now step inside museums and watch on television stories that make connections on a more visceral level than before. It is the same way with Historic Preservation whose history may have began with the rich and the elite but has long since moved to a movement that seeks to preserve the places we live in, the character of neighborhoods, the places that, in essence, make the world unique and diverse in every sense of the word.

So I think my one takeaway from this conference is that we have to be open to expanding our definitions and boundaries, looking to new horizons to let the past and present stand the test into the future.

Shrimp & Grits from Prime 108Whew. Did you think I was going to forget to talk about the food?

This is one of those towns where being a Vegetarian is really difficult—luckily I eat chicken, and boy did I eat a lot of it.

Here are my recommendations:

  1. The Fried Chicken at BB Kings
  2. While the Mac n’ Cheese I had at Robert Hicks’ house was to die for, I’ll just say that Nashvillians know how to make a mean mac n’ cheese.Mike's Ice Cream Fountain-Ceiling detail
  3. Make sure to check out Mike’s on Broadway by the River where you can get some of the most delicious ice cream cones out there.
  4. For brunch—go fancy and hit up the Wyndham Union Station (Prime 108) where I had some delicious French Toast, and my friend had some true southern grits with shrimp. While we waited for food we ogled the stained glass windows.

Don’t forget to Check out the pictures on Picasa!

National Preservation Conference in Nashville

How Sweet the Sound

For the Chicago review click here.

Where: Fed Ex Field (DC/MD/VA)
Set List:
Breathe,  Magnificent, Get on Your Boots,  Mysterious Ways, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For/Stand By Me (snippet), Elevation, Your Blue Room, Beautiful Day/Blackbird (Beatles snippet), New Years Day, Stuck in A Moment, The Unforgettable Fire, Mofo (snippet)/City of Blinding Lights, Vertigo, Crazy Tonight/Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough (Michael Jackson snippet), Sunday Bloody Sunday, MLK, Walk On

Encore 1:One/Amazing Grace snippet, Where The Streets Have No Name
Encore 2: Ultra Violet (Light My Way), With or Without You, Moment of Surrender

Blue Claw in DC
Blue Claw in DC

I have to say that the crowd around you often sets the tone of a concert. So I’ll start with my biggest gripe and then move on. I like standing up at concerts, and really see no point to remaining a huddled mass when there is energizing music around me and we are being hit by a fairly chilly breeze.  Anyway, just remember the next time you want to sit at a concert that asking nicely will get you a lot further then a sarcastic “I have a nice view of your back.”

Enough of that. Once again the show was a remarkable splendor of lights, sound and soul. While it took a little coaxing to get most of the stadium to go with his call and response , Bono and the band were in great form. There were a few songs that were not in the last show (Mysterious Ways for one), and two that I didn’t recognize at all (Your Blue Room, Mofo) . Other than that I got some really cool images seen here and a great live video of With or Without You.

There are a few things about Fed Ex that caused befuddlement.

1. Why aren’t camera’s allowed? (I mean clearly we were able to get in with ours but it was strange that the sign AND the security guards were stopping people from bringing them in.)

2. It has really terrible acoustics….so I suppose not really meant for a large rock concert. It was harder to hear what Bono was saying for most of the concert.

3. After being in existence for so long why do they have such a hard time with traffic patterns? I’ve heard about easy rides home, and hard rides home. The metro was a bit crazy but not tooooo insane for me……maybe its part and parcel of the DC driving experience. Who knows.

Orange Claw in DC
Orange Claw in DC

Good Things: Playing Top 5 with S.F. (see below), Running into people I haven’t seen in ages in the Bathroom (random), and of course that opening band which was pleasantly awesome. (Go Muse!)

I thought this time around I’d pick two or three songs and do a rundown about what was going on in the world when the Album came out. Sort of a U2 soundtrack for our lives.

New Year’s Day (War, 1983–this CD also has Sunday Bloody Sunday, 40): Michael Jackson does the Moonwalk, Congress releases a report about Japanese Internment, US invades Grenada, Hello World! Microsoft Word and the Nintendo Entertainment System (in Japan) are first released.

Unforgettable Fire (Unforgettable Fire, 1984–this CD also has Bad, Pride & MLK): Indian troops storm the Golden Temple at Amritsar, Indira Gandhi Assasinated, The first Macintosh, Ronald Reagan reelected.

Mysterious Ways (Achtung Baby, 1991-Even Better than the Real Thing, One, Until the End of the World):  Also in music? Nirvana’s Nevermind, Pearl Jam’s Ten, Freddy Mercury of Queen dies. Operation Desert Storm, Germany formally regains complete independence after the US, France, Soviet Union and UK relinquish rights. Indian PM Rajiv Gandhi is assasinated, Boris Yeltsin elected. Soviet Union disolved.

Mofo (Pop, 1997-Discotheque, Staring at the Sun): Notorious B.I.G. killed, Clinton  inaugurated for his second term, Timothy McVeigh convicted, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone first published, Hong Kong goes back to China, Princess Diana killed, Bill Berry leaves R.E.M….and of course Titanic comes to theaters.

Purple Claw in DC
Purple Claw in DC

Earlier I mentioned that I got to go to the concert with one of my music guru’s. S.F. is an old college roommate. She and I spent most of the lead up to the concert listing our top 5 (top five U2, Beatles, REM, Pearl Jam, Bon Jovi & The Decemberist songs). So tell me what your top five songs are (U2 or in general). Let’s get this party started.

My Top 5

U2: Sunday Bloody Sunday, Far Away So Close, Bad, Unforgettable Fire, One and I have a soft spot for Walk On though it often gets swapped out for other classics.

Beatles: Blackbird, Norwegian Wood, Obladi-Obladah, In My Life, Let it Be (But really is it possible to come up with a Top 5 for this band? There are soooo many songs)

R.E.M.: Losing My Religion, Walk Unafraid, Nightswimming, She Just Want’s To Be, Finest Worksong

The Decemberists: Red Right Ankle, Mariner’s Revenge, Sons & Daughters, Chimbly Sweep, O’ Valencia

Thoughts? Don’t forget to Check out the Picasa Album below and the video of With or Without You.

U2 in DC

The roar that lies on the other side of silence

soliderfieldcrowdThe first time I saw U2 was in June of 2001. They had just released All That You Can’t Leave Behind and it seemed like a good first concert. I somehow managed to miss going to any when I was younger, for some reason when everyone my age was going to HFStival I was standing in line for midnight movie showings. The main thing I remember about the concert is that while I knew the standards, the classics, there were clearly some I had never heard. There were the songs everyone wanted to hear (40, Bad, Unforgettable Fire) the songs which people seemed to lose themselves in, the songs that brought excited murmurs, gasps, and upraised arms.

And if the mountain should crumble,
Or disappear into the sea.
Not a tear, no not I stay in this time.
Stay tonight in a light.
Ever after, this love in time.
And if you save it all, save you love.
Dont push me too far tonight.

Then 9/11 happened.

IMG_1916I found myself nearly a month after that day driving up to Baltimore for my second U2 concert. We were late getting to the arena and found out that Garbage canceled because Shirley Manson had gotten sick. It didn’t matter, while it was the same music, the same band–everything felt different.

Not to seem over-dramatic, but only four weeks after the attack the mood in the country remained fervently patriotic, and we were all hurting—and to some extent still uncertain of what would come next; and while U2 is an Irish band they always seemed to have their own special connection to these United States. I’m not sure if it was just the music, or something Bono said, but I think that this is when I realized whenever Bono, the Edge, Adam and Larry came to town I would be there.

Early morning, April 4
Shot rings out in the Memphis sky
Free at last, they took your life
They could not take your pride

IMG_18952005, the band releases How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, a record which had more misses than hits for me. High up in the MCI Center, I stared at an enormous sign urging everyone to Coexist, grinning from ear to ear. It didn’t matter that people around me seemed underwhelmed, it didn’t matter to me that I was one of a few people standing up in my section. Things were good.

And I know it aches
And your heart it breaks
And you can only take so much


Fast-forward to 2009. I flew to Chicago and found myself high up in Soldier Field staring at an enormous claw (which I later learned is actually supposed to be a spaceship). Why Chicago? I wanted to do something different and decided to go for the first show of the North American tour (don’t worry I am seeing them again at FedEx field in two weeks). So after a six mile run along the lake, a lot of good food (I love Rick Bayliss, but more on that in the next post) we took a cab to my first ever football stadium (big, enormous, cavernous). They started the concert with a new tune, Breathe–which is where the title of the post comes from–and ended with a new tune, Moment of Surrender. In between we got a little Elvis Costello, Beatles, and the ever classic Stand By Me.

Then there was the moment when the amidst the band’s silence thousands of people broke out into song:


I have climbed the highest mountain
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you

I have run, I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls

Only to be with you
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for

I think the best part, however, was standing next to a little kid who decided that he wanted to be The Edge. Wailing on his air guitar and jumping up and down, up and down, with his oh-so-tall father (he must have been 7 feet tall at least) it was infectious. All the way through City of Blinding Lights, Vertigo, Crazy and Sunday, Bloody, Sunday he played and mimicked the passion and love for the music that was floating through the stadium. We were wowed by the lights and the large screens which twirled around to provide close ups of the band, extended to provide their own light show, and watched as bridges moved over the floor crowd’s head to allow for closer access to the rest of the stadium. While I suppose I can excuse certain lyrics about ATM Machines, it was, in the end, a very, very good show.

magicToo late
To drag the past out into the light
We’re one, but we’re not the same
We get to
Carry each other

Carry each other

For more pictures visit my Picasa album. For the set list and a review go here. Click here to see my video of Stuck in a Moment.

Chicago & U2