Easter Hunting

Warm temperatures, a visit from a friend, a giant bunny that hides chicken eggs; Springtime never felt so right. Spent the long weekend in practice of many activities I take to heart. Cooked Springy meals like lamb and dorado baked in salt.

Drank Springy wine like cheap Vinho Verde and historic Brouilly. Killed some Spring time in our Springy garden.

The Instruments: Pastorale

Listened to Springtime music like The Instruments, Sam Prekop, and Sergio Mendes. Hunted for Spring snow--soft but not too mushy.

We circumnavigated the Mont Blanc Massif, though in this part of the world--the Haute Savoie--if you're not in the Mont Blanc Massif, then you're just around its corner; it occupies a significant amount of space. Featureless in its shadow, in the immediate surroundings its easy to feel like you're on top of the world, even if it's your own small one.

In the big middle of it all it's sometimes nice to know that others have the same intention. Piled rocks and scratched surfaces, broken statues and a sense of humor lend a sense of welcome to a strange and foreign country.

Lambchop: I'm a Stranger Here

The skiing is the same no matter where you land. It's hardly the point. It's the getting there and being there and with who and how and what next that matters. I like to think that I ski because it allows me to skim the surface of something otherwise unknowable. All the small details that compliment the final activity secure me in this assurance and, ultimately, provide some meaning.

And sometimes it's easy and sometimes it's frightening but it's almost never what you expect and, more importantly, you might never see it again.

I often feel that I am better alone. However, I also know for certain that these feelings are tricks, and it's best to resist these tricks and try to participate in something bigger than myself, something altogether knowable. The hunt, in fact, is a game and it's a game played with others and its season never ends and there is never a fresh kill at the end of the chase. I know this, and though I resist, it often takes the culmination of several events to remind myself of the burden of solitude and the unbearable lightness of being. Thanks, Milan.

So I picked up thirds because it seemed to suit me. It's not a bad place to be, especially with the sun to keep you wrapped in the present. The days are long now and everything has changed.

Sian Alice Group: As The Morning Light

You work around things and up and down and finally you come to a place that seems to fit. Well, it has to, and it usually does; there is no other way up but to come back down. In the meantime, temperatures change quickly and heart rates rise (also quickly). Those are some of the small details that make the day worth doing, the living worth living.

The Fiery Furnaces: Benton Harbor Blues

I stumble 'round on through my memory's maze.

It's always hard to tell if you have a friend in the sun or a great spoiler. Warmth and blue skies come with a price: unpredictable snow, dehydration, and, the worst offense, blurred vision.

Hunt long and hard enough and you'll find the spot. And though the equipment might change, the process is the same and a friend is still a friend.

Whether it takes the form of eggs, soft snow, a purpose, or a new sense of place, the Easter Bunny delivers, true to form, whatever it is that you need most. Thanks, Easter Bunny!

Thanks, Old Europe!

Thanks, fraulein Klar, for the stolen pictures (#s 4-8, 13, 15, 16).

And thanks, Hank, for picture #2.

Saving the Planet, One Tadpole at a Time

Jerry Garcia & David Grisman: There Ain't No Bugs On Me

Our smaller, upper pond is the most vulnerable. It's shallow and full of tadpoles. The other day we saw a perfectly content frog, as big as my fist, sunning itself on its edge; a proud infanticide. After we read about tadpoles in his illustrated encyclopedia (you know, the part where it says that most of them don't survive because the things that brought them into this world also like to eat them) Hank has taken it upon himself to capture and transfer them to the lower, less active pond. Though deeper and bigger, the other upper pond already has four or five fully grown frogs doing their best to devour all their offspring. In his almost-five years, I've never seen Hank so focused or patient.

He stands above the water quiet and concentrated. Days seemingly go by until you hear a shocked shriek followed by thrilled laughter. He'll often yell out, "I got one!" before quickly heading for the lower pond, laughing as the squirmy, slimy tadpole tickles the palms of his hands. He'll bid the tadpole goodbye as he lowers it into the pond, offer it luck, and remind it that it was just saved from the big frogs. Then he will return to the small pond to start the procedure over again.

Doc Watson: Froggie Went A-Courtin'

It's Springtime in Switzerland and finally it feels like it's all coming together. Our possessions have arrived; the house is settling into its place. Our car is here and it still runs. Hank is much more comfortable in his surroundings and so are we. Never thought I'd say this but I'm glad that winter is over. It seemed an especially long and hard one this year and I ain't talking about the weather. The mud, slush, and gray skies that dominated the landscape on our arrival to Geneva didn't help ease the transition, either. But now with flowers, blue skies, and tadpoles, the world is starting to spin a little more smoothly.

And, yes, skiing will return as well. An Easter weekend visitor should help kick things back into gear. She seems to possess an intrinsic ability to find good snow. After all, home is where your skis is and, for now, they're here. In the meantime, we'll save little creatures from certain doom, smell the flowers, and enjoy the good life. No more big bad frogs in this pond.

(If you can't see a small, blue square and triangle that resembles a play button, go here and follow directions. Installing this will allow you to read and listen to music at the same time--like a real live multitasker!)

In Vinyl

Reunited and it feels so good.

Some parts of moving are fun. We consolidated bits and pieces of our life from a few places around the globe including our house in Elko. After a seven year absence I'm happy to report that our house is once again filled with the warm sounds of the 33 1/3 rpm Long Play record album (and several 45s). So, while running around the house packing, unpacking, moving, and adjusting, all in our efforts to settle into Switzerland, I've been sometimes randomly and sometimes very strategically pulling out some albums to throw onto the turntable. Here are a few that have made me smile:

 

Les Baxter: Skins! (1957)

This is the first album I threw on to "test the system" after I set up the stereo. Not the most amazing album but the cover art is worth the price of admission. Plus, as the back liner notes say: Here's the album that young America has been asking for... Skins! a bongo party with Les Baxter.

Pell Mell: Flow (1991)

I thought I had this on white vinyl but I must'a been thinking about something else. I'll search for that, too. Great instrumental music and classic SST. Memories of my Music Directatorship at K-UTE.

The Church: Remote Luxury (1984)

I know the Go-Betweens are recognized as Australia's finest pop band (even when they moved to London) but, come on, this is great stuff. Forget the goofy goth dude on the cover, the shimmering and luminous songs will bring the Spring birds chirping to your window.

Traffic: The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys (1971)

This was a Saturday night, post meal, post bottle of wine listen. Admittedly, I only listened to the title track but the twelve-minute song is better than many albums. It reeks of the '70s but the jazzy, jammy, rocky thing works like a charm. Bonus: the cover is the shape of the 3D cube, meaning the two white corners shown on the picture aren't really there. It's like art, man.

U2: The Unforgettable Fire (1984)

This was before I settled into twelve minutes of Traffic, which is just before I staggered off to bed. I don't care what anyone says, this, for me, is the best U2 album. Yea, sure, it's a bit pretentious but ever since War what U2 album isn't pretentious. I don't own The Joshua Tree and I don't think I've even listened to a full U2 album recorded after The Joshua Tree. Why would I? I own their best album already. On vinyl.

DJ Shadow: Endtroducing... (1996)

Though I also own this on CD, I bought the album first and it's probably best listened to on LP. It's a double LP with only two or three songs on each side. Thus, you participate in the music more--becoming your own personal DJ--because you have to flip the album over several times. Um. Exactly.

Bonus: I also own the "Stem" single, a 45 that features a different version (the Cops 'N' Robbers version) than the album, with cool Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino samples from the film Heat.

Calexico: Descamino (2000)

Vinyl-only single of remixes from the Black Light album. Very mellow and ambient, I think this was the Friday night, post meal, post bottle of wine selection.

The Band: The Band (1969)

I think this was the Saturday morning with coffee selection. In the sunroom. With Wendy. Iconoclastic Americana, from Canada!

The Jazz Butcher Conspiracy: Distressed Gentlefolk (1986)

Often hilarious, often heartbreaking and beautiful, the Jazz Butcher epitomizes the teenage years, of which they were a staple. Robyn Hitchcock is usually credited with the Eccentric or Quirky Brit title but when the Jazz Butcher were on they were madder than mad. Bonus: my version of the LP came with the Conspiracy EP 12", that is credited to The Jazz Butcher Vs. Max Eider and contains the swank "Peter Lorre".

Many more to follow. In fact, hundreds. Perhaps a thousand. Who needs to ski when you have beauty, scenery, romance, drama, and superstar action all in the confines of your very own basement? Who needs to ski when you have Herb?

Album images were swiped from The All Music Guide.