I'm Sorry, Orson Scott Card

I have a new favorite book: The Road, by Cormac McCarthy. It's about a father and a son. It's about a world gone mad and bad. It's about personal fidelity in a time of prolonged crisis. It's about growing up. It's about transmitting sure and certain ideals down the ages, one child at a time. It's about hope, and it's about goodness. What do you do when all the trappings of your life have been stripped away? What do you do when it's just your family, against, seemingly, the entire world? What are you willing to do simply to survive? These are all questions that are answered by the lives of the protagonists in The Road.

The plot: A Father and his Son travel on a road through postapocalyptic America, heading for the coast, and they know not what else. And their road is not safe.

This book begs you to ask yourself the question, "Am I carrying the fire?"

I don't want to give away what this means, so I won't. You'll just have to read the book for yourself. But, I will say, it's pretty important to know whether we are or not.

On a personal note, I learned through reading this book that when I have sons, I want (and need) to teach them what it means to be a man. I need to teach them who we are, and why we do what we do. I need to teach how and why I became what I am. And how they can do the same for themselves. I can think of few things more powerful than a father teaching his son. Of course, I don't have any sons, so if there are any interested parties out there, you know where to find me. *Wink, wink*

Love is a Mix Tape

My junior year in high school, there was a girl named Marilyn Murphy in my English class. I had been in a class with her before, but we hadn't talked much, just a little about music. It's because of her, really, that I now enjoy making (and RECEIVING) mix tapes. She made a tape for me before school started, but she liked it so much she kept it for a while to listen to. When she finally gave it to me, I was pretty excited to investigate and listen. And I knew I had to return the favor, and make her a tape.

Before M.J. got my mix tape ball rolling, I had only made mixes for myself, with two exceptions. One, for a girl I had a crush on, Stephanie Schreiber (now Brown). Her younger brother, Andrew, later taped over it. The other was for a dear friend, Mary Warren (now Jordan). We had been friends, dated for a short time, been best friends, then dated some more, then she dumped me (for the second time, ha ha), and we drifted apart. I made her tape during our "best friends" period. She didn't listen to it a lot because her car didn't have a tape player, but then for about a month, she drove a Chrysler Le Baron, which did have a tape player, so she made good use of it. I remember cruising around in the Arizona heat the summer of 2001, with Mary and her Irish friend, Sara, blasting my tape and feeling the happy glow that comes from creating something people enjoy. Mary was glad to have the tape. She said, "now I know what kind of music you listen to".

In that English class, I also met a girl named Susan Scholl. M.J. and Susan were good friends, and quite the music historians. Over the course of my friendship with M.J. I've made her about six mixes. I would tell Susan that I had made a new tape for M.J. and her response would usually be, "where's mine?" The thing is, she intimidated me with her music knowledge and taste! M.J. didn't, and I think the reason is because she made me a tape first! Around the time I was getting ready to leave on my mission, I started getting more serious about sucking it up and getting Susan a mix. So I started my potential song list. The idea for her mix was to, basically, psychoanalyze her, and make a story out of songs about who I thought she really was, which I felt was very different from what she presented to the world, most times. That tape never got made (probably for a good reason).

When I returned from my mission in November 2005, I started another potential list for her. I even made a CD of songs I was considering (in no particular order). Then last summer I saw Paul Simon perform on a morning show. He sang
"Graceland". I had heard the song before, but it hadn't impressed me much. But the lyrics about driving down the highway with his nine year old son, seeing the Mississippi river shining, just gave me the inkling for an idea. That inkling, mixed with the meaning of a few of the songs I had thought would go on the mix, became a loose plot of a movie. I had already experimented with mixes as soundtrack, so it was logical that Susan's mix would evolve into the soundtrack for this small idea I had.

The plot is pretty simple: a man and his son (somewhere around 9-12 years old) are driving to the Mid-West to visit the grave of their wife and mother. She had some sort of breakdown, and ran away a few months prior. She passed away in the mean time. Most of the film is about their trip, and whether or not they will choose to move on or not, and how one does that after such a traumatic thing happens. With all that being said, I have scenes and images for all the songs on this "soundtrack". I'm indebted for Susan for inspiring the emotional content of this mix, and the films of Wes Anderson for some of the songs and the imaginary cinematography of the imaginary film. So, here's the mix I made for Susan:

The Signs of Life

1. Graceland, Paul Simon


2. These Days, Nico


3. Running on Empty, Jackson Browne


4. Sugar Dumpling (original version), Sam Cooke


5. Bridge Over Troubled Water, Paul Simon


6. Imagine, John Lennon


7. One of Us, Joan Osborne


8. Revelation, Jason Faulkner


9. Oh! Darling, The Beatles


10. Kiss from a Rose, Seal


11. Sweet Thing, Van Morrison


12. Born to Run, Bruce Springsteen


13. The Village Green Preservation Society, The Kinks


14. We're Going to be Friends, The White Stripes


15. I'm Coming Out, Diana Ross


16. Different Drum, Stone Ponys


17. Hey Ya! Mat Weddle


18. God Only Knows, Switchfoot


19. Ooh La La, The Faces


20. Reservations (demo), Wilco

P.S. Read "Love is a Mix Tape", by Rob Sheffield.

I May Not Be A Smart Man But I Know What Love Is

As of now I have committed to a more brisk pace in my posting.

The End

• Most punk rock song of 2006: Tie : Crazy, by Gnarls Barkley/When The Stars Go Blue, by Tim McGraw
• Best lesson in Elders Quorum: Unity, December 17th by Peter "Know What I'm Saying?" Allen.
• Best Wedding: Brandon and Beka Lowe

P.S. I think 2006 was the worst year of my life.