Monday, August 10 The strobe flicker of pre-dawn lightning tattoos the bedroom wall. Esteban gives a small cry from the foot of the bed. I welcome the stormy morning and put on Nina Nastasia's The Blackened Air. While its gothic melancholia soothes the kitchen, I brew coffee and gaze out into the still-dark morning. Before work, I play my guitar to see if anything is in there. I write a couple…
Monday, August 3 At the southeastern corner of Whitefish Bay, Lake Superior drains its bulk into the St. Marys River, a neck of water engineered to pass 80 million tons of iron ore, limestone, and other cargo annually through the Soo Locks . Before today, my only other memory of visiting Sault Ste. Marie is of a boozy October night in 2003 to celebrate my friend Nate's 30th birthday. I have video…
Some weeks it’s like this…
Monday, July 20 Five years ago today, I moved to Ypsilanti, Michigan. I had already spent a couple days trying to get my apartment set up, but July 20 was the night I made it official. After a long day, I drove over to my friend Ashley's birthday party out near Ford Lake, knowing afterward I could just go home and crash in a place that was all my own. I've made so many friends here — these have…
Monday, July 13 Another heat wave arrives, as if reporting for its week-long residency. I write the forecast in my notebook, just to see the temperatures all neatly lined up in my own handwriting. Around two o'clock, I relent, button up the house, and turn on the air-conditioning. In icy privilege, I sit on my bed and work, back propped against a pillow. Later, at the brewpub, I get to know a…
Monday, July 6 The downtown library is crowded with other refugees charging devices and working on laptops. I am one of nearly 350,000 DTE Energy customers who lost power during Friday night's storm. At the time, I was 200 miles away in Benzie County, setting up for a gig after two nights of camping on the Leelanau Peninsula. The weather up there was lovely. Today, the downed power line at the end…
Monday, June 22 – Friday, June 26 Last Saturday, after not very much deliberation, I bought yet another tent, a nice one with enough room for my cot. At Ossineke State Forest, just above the 45th parallel, I fall asleep to the music of wind and surf, practically alone at this remote, rustic campground.
Monday, June 15 I help my parents shore up some wobbly fence posts in their garden and return home with a broken bird bath and six large moss-covered flagstones for my own garden. It's like shopping at a second hand Lowe's where everything is heavily used, free, and pre-loaded with sentiment. In the evening, I order a collapsible army cot. I've held out for a long time, sleeping on a thin air…
I waited too long to start my run. It's 5:30, and the air is stifling as I head up Forest toward campus. On Lowell, a green Subaru beeps acknowledgment. It's Annie. Her birthday was yesterday. A mile later on Hamilton, two musicians, tenor sax and drums, play hard bop through an open window. East down Spring, and over the bridge past Huron Landing, I detour to avoid a family of geese on the…
Monday, June 1 Light rain falls on the crew resurfacing South Elm Street. Greg and I watch the procession of heavy machinery from the front window of the Oaks Eatery. Black coffee, Nueske's bacon, roast potatoes, two eggs over medium, and a pancake. I think the single pancake, as a toast alternative, adds a measure of pizzazz to the day ahead. Last night we returned to Three Oaks to retrieve my…
Monday, May 25 It's Memorial Day, the symbolic launch of American summertime. The weekend's cool rain is replaced by abundant sunshine. I take apart, then reassemble the contents of my shed, listening to the Grateful Dead and drinking strong coffee. It takes about three hours, but is so satisfying to have done. Next, I butcher my first watermelon of the year and pack its red cubes into a…
My attention has been focused elsewhere this week, and what writing I’ve done feels lackluster. I'm not going to force it. Please enjoy this Weeknotes anthology of bullet points, lists, and images.
Monday, May 11 I lie down on the grass next to Islay, whose dark fur stores the sun's heat like a solar mat. Not for the first time, I try to memorize the feel of my dog's body, the shape of her head, her floppy ears, and gray muzzle. I hope I can give her a fun summer. At the studio in Ann Arbor, Geoff and I mix tracks for my upcoming EP. One of them, a percussive instrumental synth piece, is…
Monday, May 4 Winter semester ends after my morning class. No homework for almost four months, a joy I never thought I'd relive at 49. I plant the morning glory seedlings along the back fence, then sit barefoot on the grass drinking a beer and reading Gavin Francis' Island Dreams. All evening I play the bongos. I'm trying to match the random changes of an arpeggiated synth part I recorded nine…
Monday, April 27 The New Pornographers are playing El Club in Detroit. I last saw them in 2014 on the Brill Bruisers tour and I'm surprised how much better they sound tonight in a smaller venue with a retooled lineup. Dan Bejar is no longer with them, so I don't expect to hear any of his songs. As usual, the excellent Kathryn Calder handles Neko Case's parts on stage, along with all her own vocal…
Monday, April 20 For the second year in a row, Kenyan runners Sharon Lokedi and John Korir win their divisions at the Boston Marathon. Korir sets a new course record at 2:01:52. I do the math; that's a 4:39 pace, four minutes faster than my best marathon effort. Astounding! Since the Tigers are in Boston, they play the annual Patriots' Day morning game at Fenway, losing to the Red Sox, 6–8. I…
Monday, April 13 An early spring balm has seeped into the room. My jeans, left overnight on the chair, have a clamminess I associate with deep summer. Outside the open window everything is busy living, expanding, rising. On Saturday, I raked the perimeter of the house, pruning the overgrown sage bush, clearing debris, and pulling up endless bunches of yard garlic. I even mowed the lawn, mostly to…
Monday, April 6 The purple house opposite mine is still for sale. Two mallards explore its front yard — please be my new neighbors, I think. In the afternoon, Nick appears at my back door bearing the most miraculous gift. "Hello sir," he exclaims, then holds out a white Riva flute case. Inside it is a vintage Casio PT-1, a 13" wonder of monophonic 8-bit joy. Like many kids in the '80s, this was my…
Monday, March 30 The young college DJ announces she'll close out her afternoon show with They Might Be Giants' "Birdhouse in Your Soul," an old favorite of mine. There's a period of dead air, followed by about ten seconds of the song's intro, then more dead air. An acoustic guitar track I don't recognize makes a couple false starts, then after another long gap Arcade Fire's "Sprawl II" begins to…
Monday, March 23 I awaken from a dream about living in a wall tent dormitory with an unexplained desire to listen to Scott Walker. I put Scott 3 into the CD player and brew coffee to the discordant strings of "It's Raining Today." In 1996, my brother and I were obsessed with Razor & Tie's Scott Walker anthology of the same name. I remember the two of us sitting in my car outside the Fisher…