2021 #1:
Throwback to last spring when lockdown was just starting and many, myself included, were breathlessly blogging for free to pass the time, along with everyone else who was around for that era of the internet pretending that our brains hadn’t devolved in the years since, ground into dust by the poisonous, blue-tinted ephemera of social media. That was cute, wasn’t it? Immediately and exhaustively confronted with the dull blankness of unknown, scary thing that would turn out to be a new normal, a lot of us reached for comfort in the form of nostalgia. I know I did. A small part of my brain equated the spring of 2020—in which I was newly unemployed and rich with free time—with the summer of 2009, in which I moved out of my hometown at 25, ostensibly to follow my girlfriend who was in college at the time but also to eventually attend college myself and more seriously pursue music writing, or at least get a degree that would help me get a job doing something other than scooping ice cream or cleaning up vomit in bar bathrooms. There I was, underemployed, broke, filling my days by listening to records, writing news stories, and taking notes for reviews or interviews, feeling optimistic about the future and just as importantly, enthusiastic about the present. I’d left my past—doing the same old things, going to the same old ;places, working the same old kind of jobs, hanging out with the same old people from high school—behind before it became my present. That’s not a knock on anyone who hasn’t left their hometown. Shit happens. Everyone has their reasons, their specific needs and wants. Though I think it can be easy to get bogged down or boxed in, there is value in comfort, routine, and proximity that I’ve come to understand as I’ve gotten older. Though I don’t miss living in Melbourne at all, it would be nice to be able to pop over to my mom’s house, sit on her back porch and talk some shit over drinks whenever I want.
It goes without saying that 2020 didn’t turn out the way any of us thought it would, but when I think about last spring what truly hits me is just how paralyzing this pandemic has been in terms of creativity and critical thinking. When it happened, and I realized I was going to be out of work for longer than two weeks, I felt that wave of nostalgia wash over me. I’ll do more writing, I thought. I’ll get to that pile of unread books. I’ll learn to do something new. I thought it’d be just like that summer of 2009, a new beginning. Maybe losing my job and being forced to confront a new reality was just what I needed. So I wrote a few newsletters in March and April. I bought a domain and wrote a few music blogs because as addicted as I am to it, I know that the centralization of the internet in which all we all do now is constantly check and refresh three social media platforms is a very bad thing because aside from the obvious reasons, the old , more community-based version of the internet was just better. Instead I played over 1,000 hours of Animal Crossing, stayed up too late, slept too late, drank a lot, didn’t exercise as much, and constantly doomscrolled. I know I’m not alone in that, and I know it’s okay, that few are equipped to deal with the sudden, dramatic life shift that only a deadly pandemic can bring. I played the waiting game because to be honest, even though I no longer live in my hometown I’d been away long enough to get used to and expect similar comforts here in Philadelphia.
It wasn’t all bad. I rediscovered a love of cycling, and went on several long distance rides around the Philly area, including into New Jersey and Delaware. I started a podcast with my childhood best friend James that has rekindled our friendship. Megan and I did what we could to make our house a home, since we’re here all day every day now. None of that stuff would’ve happened without me being furloughed in March and as scary as it has been, I am grateful and privileged to be mostly healthy and happy. It’s still a little hard to not deflect to nostalgia, though, especially as the calendar turns over to 2021. Pandemic fatigue notwithstanding, the new year always feels like a fresh start, even if starting today is generally the way to go if life changes are needed or wanted. And in a year when everything changed, life changes seem to mostly center around returning to stuff and recapturing those feelings I felt in the summer of 2009. So here I am, same as then.
Listening to Chris Wollard and the Ship Thieves’ first album takes me back to the summer of 2009, living in that basic apartment just outside of Orlando, sitting at my desk which was actually a secondhand dining table and a plastic patio chair with a yellowing bed pillow as a cushion, doing all the stuff I mentioned above that I loved. Aside from the nostalgia it evokes, there’s a palpable warmth to these songs that often isn’t found in punk or punk-adjacent music. It’s a Sunday morning album if there ever was one, a perfect kitchen soundtrack for bleary eyes, half-open ears, strong coffee and greasy breakfast food. For similar reasons it’s a compelling album for those reflective, dark, cool evenings as well, the kind we used to have a lot more before everyone had a smartphone. I think I’ve listened to it 10,000 times since it came out, including twice today, and it’s still so perfect. As great as Wollard was in Hot Water Music as the weathered counterpart to Chuck Ragan’s charismatic, gruff bravado, this project has always felt more suited to his strengths as a songwriter and a guitarist. Please don’t cancel me for saying that.
This is already getting kind of long but in future newsletters I will write a little bit about newer music I’ve been enjoying. I got a new computer for my birthday last month which, in addition to making writing a lot less irritating, has made music discovery outside of the dreaded Spotify algorithm much easier. Watch this space, as they say.
I’m not big on resolutions because I’m a Sagittarius and I don’t like being boxed in, nor do I enjoy doing new things I’m not immediately good at, but I’m a Leo moon so I do value idealism and accountability. It’s complicated. Resolutions can be open-ended too, which in my mind opens the door for them to not be accomplished and have it not be a big deal. Which they mostly aren’t to be sure, so don’t beat yourself up for not going through on your resolutions. But with that in mind, here are things I want to do in 2021. Not things I resolve to do, things I will do.
At least one long-distance bike touring or bikepacking trip. My eventual goal is to ride the East Coast Greenway down to Key West but if I’m being realistic I probably need to do a couple shorter trips first to get a feel for it. I haven’t camped in a tent in probably twenty years so jumping into a month-long camping trip without preparation seems a little hasty. Right now I’m thinking of taking a trip in March, then maybe another one in May or June, and then attempting the Greenway ride in the fall. If you have any tips, or if you live on the east coast, or in a nearby state, and want to let me sleep in your backyard or something, by all means, let a friend know.
Write one newsletter a week, and not beat myself up if I miss one here and there.
Get my teeth fixed. There’s much to be done there. I’ll save that story for a future newsletter.
Drink at least 100 ounces of water every day. This should be a pretty easy one.
Do a 20 minute HIIT workout three times a week, and life weights for 45 minutes five times a week. Again, easy.
Read at least twelve books, which I know doesn’t sound like much, but for my addled brain will be difficult. I think I can do one book a month.
Watch more movies. I host a podcast about movies but I haven’t seen most of them. Movies, I mean. Like, all movies. You name it, I probably haven’t seen it.
On that note, de-emphasize my dependence on twitter to tell people about what I’m reading or watching and instead keep lists in Letterboxd and Goodreads (I guess? If there are better apps for this let me know)
Only watch Instagram stories when I’m pooping
Only read the news once a day, in the morning
What are you looking to accomplish in 2021? Tell me about it. Maybe I can help.
I’ll include a little playlist with each of these newsletters. They’ll be dated for reference. Initially this playlist was just called “Songs I Been Thinkin’ About” which sums it up, I guess. Enjoy, and don’t shuffle it, or if you do, don’t tell me.