CFR 2K9

This is a story. I met Mrs Candid in May. We became serious rather quickly, attending one another's family functions and so forth within weeks. Her mother's family gets together the first Sunday of each month for dinner. They also have a family reunion every year over Labor Day weekend. July and August of that first year it seemed to me that was all they talked about. By the time the reunion came around we had only been dating for just over 3 months, I didn't feel very comfortable yet even at the monthly dinner, and was quite intimidated by the thought of attending this reunion, so I didn't go. You would have thought I'd done something truly horrendous, like murdered the family dog.

I cannot express in writ what a big deal this weekend is. Family members who may as well be complete strangers the rest of the year all converge on this summer cow pasture in south west Wyoming, just like they have done for some 20 years. The trailers, tents, and tables are always in the same places; the meals are always the same; the activities don't change by any significant degree. Violation of any of these traditions is not taken lightly, punished by all but disowning the perpetrator. Like Christmas, the moment it ends the countdown to next year begins. This event is not to be taken lightly!

Fortunately I somehow managed to earn forgiveness for my truancy, and we were married the subsequent March. Leading up to the next reunion though I still had some misgivings.A candid conversation with my father-in-law one evening eased my concerns a great deal, and I went into my Labor Day adventure with only a little apprehension left. Still though, I couldn't understand why it was such a big deal to camp for a few days in an old cow pasture.

Then I got there.

A little background now. The reunion happens in a field that a great uncle leases for his cows, adjacent to the old family home and property built and developed under the homestead act around the turn of the century by Great Grandpa. It was lost in the early 30's due to financial troubles. It is also less than 15 miles from a youth camp where my family used to do reunions and many of my fondest childhood memories were made. In fact, it feels almost like it was more than a coincidence that we went somewhere so close.

I cannot express in writ how great this weekend is. My first experience was indeed overwhelming, but at the same time fantastic. I learned the history, went with Mogli on a few bear hunts, threw rocks in the river, and just relaxed. This year was even better. I was working up there anyhow, so I got there quite early, one of the first to arrive. I went with Grandpa and Grandma to a dinner where I saw an old friend who lives up that way. I even got a special historic tour of the region. The weekend passed quite quickly, but we found time to go to a nearby lake where my family always went when we were up there, but hers didn't even know about. I found a three point white tail shed. Stayed up to all hours of the morning and played my first ever complete game of Phase 10 (I've previously never made it passed Phase 5 before people got bored). Caught frogs and chased squirrels with Mogli and a couple cousins. Made a little ground figuring out who everyone is (I have no hope of ever really getting it straight). And of course went on a few bear hunts and threw LOTS of rocks in the river!

As I was packing things up to head home I was making a list of what to bring next year, and yes, beginning to count the days until next year.

I still don't, and likely never will, fully comprehend what makes this reunion such an extraordinary ordeal to the In-Law family, but I will say that I look forward to it almost as much as they do.

Almost.

Wish You Were Here

The Pink Floyd one, not the Incubus one. I really like that song. I think every band I've ever liked in the history of music has covered it. And why not? It's a great tune.

Mrs Candid, RN

That's right folks, she is finished! Graduation was a week ago, and the party a couple of days later. It's been a long and difficult couple years, evidence that she is a much better person than I (as though any evidence was necessary). So my wife, Mrs. Nightingale herself, will soon be taking care of patients and doing all the nursey things that make me feel a little queasy. Yet more of the aforementioned unnecessary evidence.

Congratulations Honey. I'm really proud of you. I love you.

US of E

As I mentioned the other day, I have been desperately searching for something new on the music front of late. Seemingly as a response Muse has released two singles for the upcoming album "The Resistance." Not only is it delightfully refreshing musically, but it's all "take the power back" and "shoot down the black helicopters" in a way only Muse can pull off. The radio single, "Uprising," is not exactly groundbreaking for them, but it's a solid tune none the less, and I can't get enough of it. Just today I heard the other single they've released on their website's media player. "United States of Eurasia" is everything the title suggests as far as paranoia and conspiracy. It's like Coast to Coast AM set to a hybrid between Queen and the "Pride and Prejudice" soundtrack. I know, it's hard to imagine, but if you can find it or care to join the Muse fan club I insist you check it out.

P.S. Here's a picture from the first time I saw them. It was in 2004 on the side stage at The Venue. There were like 200 people there. It was amazing.

Night Driving

One of the simplest pleasures of life. I used to do it when I was mad. I used to do it when I was depressed. I used to do it when I was happy, excited, or just wanted to think. Still one of my favorite scenes is the spread of city lights before me. Music takes on a whole new quality when it is the soundtrack to a night drive. Some night drives of particular significance:

• The trip to Zak's cabin. We listened to Coldplay and Radiohead. It was the last time we were all together before adult life began to take hold. I look at it as a major transition.
  
• A weekend with two night drives: one with and one without a certain girlfriend. I realized how much happier I was without her, and asserted my freedom from her grasp shortly thereafter.
  
• Crossing through the desert with my brother. He likely doesn't remember it, but it was one of the major events that turned us from brothers to friends in my eyes.
• Driving up to perform a few songs on the radio. This was actually the very early morning, but I count it. I stayed up for something like 30 hours that day, not only setting a record for consecutive waking hours, but laughing harder than any other event that readily comes to mind.
  

The other day I enjoyed a delightful night drive. My employment took me to a neighboring state, and having early morning appointments the following day it was imperative I head home rather than booking a hotel. I listened to Radiohead and Coldplay the entire drive, songs like "How to Disappear Completely" and "Bigger Stronger." I had the windows down to enjoy the smell of cool night air. I saw several amazing shooting stars, the kind you could never hope for in the city. At one point my headlights fell on some creature hiding in the brush alongside the highway waiting for a chance to dart across and it's eyes were suddenly ablaze with some inward flame. I worked 16 hours that day, but contrary to expectations didn't feel at all sleepy. I was both invigorated and relaxed, and order was restored to life.

I need to take more night drives.

Led Zeppelin...

...has been my favorite band since about age 12. Sure I have other favorite bands that have topped them, but those first few years created a permanent place in my heart. The first cd I ever owned was their fourth album. I listened to it over and over and over again. I did the same with every other album they have. I have probably watched "The Song Remains the Same" more than any other movie, excepting "Cars" with Mogli. During my early teens I had a full blown obsession. I learned how to play guitar almost exclusively on Zeppelin songs. I used to could listen to all 26 minutes and 52 seconds of live "Dazed and Confused" without ever losing interest. I loved them, and nothing has ever quite been the same since.

My musical adventures have taken me far and wide over the years. Stone Temple Pilots, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Radiohead, Coldplay, Muse, and countless others. I purchased Radiohead's "OK Computer" and "Kid A" on the same day, and listened to them both so much you'd think I would have worn the cds right through. When I got "Parachutes" I literally listened to it repeatedly for a bare minimum of 3 hours a day every day for a month. "Absolution" simply blew me away with it's powerful riffs, haunting melodies, and astounding creativity.

It's been a very long time since I've felt that way about a new band. There have been plenty that I liked, and some that I really liked, but nothing that has really got me going. This music famine has got to end.

My Sister

Eva. She has inspired me on many occasions. It is to her I owe my first email address, and by extension my introduction to the joys of instant messaging. After reading her blog for several years I created my own. Her cassette tape of Weezer's Blue album was the first music I ever loved just because I loved it. On one long trip to see family in a distant town I "borrowed" it and sat in the rear facing back seat of the family station wagon listening through it's entirety, from side A to side B and back again. The experience shaped much of my later life. She it was who first dubbed me "Foo Foo," after the little bunny who hopped through the forest, bopping field mice on the head. That name was morphed over time into things like "Frugey," and "Foph," which I am occasionally called by other siblings to this day. In the midst of that nick name's great success she coined another, simpler one: "Boy." And thus I have been known for the past ten plus years. So much of my life in fact that it is as familiar as my own given name. Indeed, I would not be remotely the same person today were it not for Dear Sister's influence.

Thank you Sister.