“And you put the glass up to the wall, and you can hear through the wall a little bit more of the song – maybe just the middle bit this time… And so it goes on until eventually, after however long it can take – sometimes a few days, sometimes months – you piece the whole thing together.”
Nick Lowe says songwriting is like living next door to an apartment where “they’ve got a radio tuned constantly on – tuned to a really cool radio station.”
I can pinpoint the exact moment when I first thought I could write a novel. It was around 1:30 in the afternoon of April 1, 1978. I was at Jingu Stadium that day, alone in the outfield drinking beer and watching the game.
This sounded well worth a shot, so I tried it myself. A couple summers ago I bought a bleacher ticket to watch a Mariners game. It was a reasonably sunny Seattle day, and I had a section of Safeco Field all to myself. I drank a Manny’s Pale Ale, but the only epiphany I had was that when clouds cover the sun, it can get a bit chilly.
Last May Day, though, serendipity visited me over a pint at a local pub where, in a copy of the Boston Globe, I found Adolphous Bullock’s obituary. This, I was certain, was a life worth sharing with my students. Then it occurred to me that there must be countless other lives worthy of introduction as well. And that’s how my obituary project got started.
I’m sure Arne Duncan’s office is fine and all, but I bet it’s not lined with gold leaf. And in France the top education job is apparently “a prestigious position held by monumental figures,” too. Secretary Duncan may, alas, have better luck installing gold leaf in his office than commensurately elevating its status.
More happily, I like how Madame le (la?) ministre’s mom said, “Don’t worry, life has more imagination than you.” It’s the glass-half-full version of “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.”
“Every other name is taken,” Mr. Jones explains. “Think of a great band name and Google it, and you’ll find a French-Canadian jam band with a MySpace page.”
Well, anyone who knows me knows that I am always ready to lend a helping hand, unless said loan would present the risk of even mild inconvenience to me. But it’s no trouble, really, to offer some band names I’ve come up with.
For, alas, I shall never use them. My dream of being the unassuming but overmuchly talented rhythm guitarist in an esteemed indie band, who on tour strolls cities anonymously by day, for he has none of the burdens of celebrity that befall the singer and lead guitarist, but who does have a devoted and distinctively female fanbase worldwide, who… uh, right, the names. Below.