Saturday, April 05, 2003
Thanks to Anthony and Shannon I recently purchased the record by Iron and Wine called And the Creek Drank the Cradle, and it's been a total revelation. It's been a long time since I've been so overwhelmed by a record. I played it back to back driving to and from Emma's wedding last weekend and I've played it every day since. I'd almost forgotten what it's like to be so into a record that I know it inside out, every lyric and every lick, anticipating the beginning of each song as the one before it ends. All day long at work the songs play inside my head. Keeping me awake.
Friday, April 04, 2003
Working at Cornell and being surrounded by undergrads really makes you feel your age. I can't help feeling bitter every time some sophomore walking down the corridor singles me out for directions, with no doubt that I'm a staff member rather than a fellow student. Hey, I could be a grad student you know!
Tuesday, April 01, 2003
Sunday I drove down to Philadelphia for the wedding of Emma Lewis, my old friend from university in Wolverhampton. The ceremony and reception were held at a quaint Victorian inn in the town of New Hope, just outside Philly. The interior of the inn was an charming mix of elegance and kitch, tasteful but quirky. There were big arched wooden doors, hardwood floors and so on, and on the walls framed photos of Grace Kelly, Jimmy Stewart and Richard Gere (twice). An elaborate arrangement of fake paper flowers sat on an ornate antique table, lending an air of unwilting decorum, and in the corner of the small dining room stood incongruously an eight foot tall polished tree trunk on a pedestal. Later on in the evening Emma's long-time best friend Vicki hung her pink feather boa on it.
The ceremony was short and sweet. It was conducted by the Mayor of New Hope himself who resembled a wily George Pataki, ten years younger and sans palsy. Emma looked gorgeous. She wore a gold dress and daisies in her hair. Alan, the groom, remained rather reserved throughout the evening, no great displays of emotion. In his speech he admitted he was "delighted", but that was about all he would give away. He's been married before and has two kids, who were present, so it's possible he was feeling a little self concious second time around.
After dinner the evening got quite spirited as Alan's eccentric father began to direct the end table, which consisted entirely of Alan's hardcore cockney work colleagues, in round after round of East End singalongs. They went through the entire songbook of east end anthems. Vans were followed, gorblimey trousers were tried on for size and Picadilly was bid farewell several times over. The staff of the inn seemed slightly horrified but there was little they could do once it got started.
At the end of the night I and the rest of the English visitors were driven back to the hotel in a stretch limo about the length of a subway carriage. Everyone was excited to be given such star treatment. Singing continued sporadically all the way back to the hotel.
The ceremony was short and sweet. It was conducted by the Mayor of New Hope himself who resembled a wily George Pataki, ten years younger and sans palsy. Emma looked gorgeous. She wore a gold dress and daisies in her hair. Alan, the groom, remained rather reserved throughout the evening, no great displays of emotion. In his speech he admitted he was "delighted", but that was about all he would give away. He's been married before and has two kids, who were present, so it's possible he was feeling a little self concious second time around.
After dinner the evening got quite spirited as Alan's eccentric father began to direct the end table, which consisted entirely of Alan's hardcore cockney work colleagues, in round after round of East End singalongs. They went through the entire songbook of east end anthems. Vans were followed, gorblimey trousers were tried on for size and Picadilly was bid farewell several times over. The staff of the inn seemed slightly horrified but there was little they could do once it got started.
At the end of the night I and the rest of the English visitors were driven back to the hotel in a stretch limo about the length of a subway carriage. Everyone was excited to be given such star treatment. Singing continued sporadically all the way back to the hotel.
TIM SIMMONDS - WARBLOGGER
Well not really, but I thought I'd post this funny exchange which my friend Andy Kriger found on William Gibson's blog:
"Umm Qasr is a town similar to Southampton", UK Defence Minister Geoff Hoon told the House of Commons yesterday. "He's either never been to Southampton, or he's never been to Umm Qasr", said one British soldier, informed of this while on patrol in Umm Qasr. Another added: "There's no beer, no prostitutes, and people are shooting at us. It's more like Portsmouth."
Well not really, but I thought I'd post this funny exchange which my friend Andy Kriger found on William Gibson's blog:
"Umm Qasr is a town similar to Southampton", UK Defence Minister Geoff Hoon told the House of Commons yesterday. "He's either never been to Southampton, or he's never been to Umm Qasr", said one British soldier, informed of this while on patrol in Umm Qasr. Another added: "There's no beer, no prostitutes, and people are shooting at us. It's more like Portsmouth."
