The Sea Is A Good Place To Think Of The Future

Before my father died, I always thought that joking about death was in poor taste. Since then, however, I have found it to be quite the opposite; rather, gallows humor got me through a rough time in life. Joking about death is a way to deal with it, I suppose. At least one good friend has confirmed with me that those who have lost close relatives are entitled to a little gallows humor. I understand that some people feel awkward about this kind of thing, and to be sure, there is a time to be serious about it, but there's only so much seriousness one can take before cracking a joke or two to ease the tension. Two examples.

1) When we went to the graveyard to choose cemetery plots, I noticed a dumpster behind the main building of the cemetery and barely managed to keep myself from wondering aloud how much that plot cost. I started cracking up, and couldn't bring it to myself to explain why to my mother.

2) While on a recent trip to visit some friends, Rikki mentioned that we should visit Iowa more often because of my dad. I responded that he wasn't getting any deader, to a mix of horror and laughter at the table. The laughter was from my friend, who has also lost her father.

You get the idea. Or maybe you don't, but there it is. On to happier things.

The title of this post comes from a song by Los Campesinos! I downloaded their new album, Romance is Boring, from emusic this month. It's freaking great. I particularly recommend the song that lends its title to this post, but the whole thing is good. The lyricism in the record is really interesting, especially on repeat listens. If you hate "indie music", you will probably hate it, but to each their own.

It's not a happy song, but the best ones aren't. Video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uoIr60buB1I

Grad School. I am finally going to wrap up my degree, after dawdling for far too long. I am switching from an M.S. with Thesis to an M.E. (Master's of Engineering) program, which amounts to me taking another 9 credits of coursework. 3 will be at ISU, and I will take 6 locally to transfer back. I'm planning on taking my last ISU course this fall, and depending on the KU course offerings, I will either take one this summer and one this fall or two this fall there. It will be a relief to finally have this thing behind me, as it's been bothering me to varying degrees during my time in KC.

Books. I am currently reading Tokyo Vice by Jake Adelstein. It's a pretty interesting book about the reporting he did for a Japanese newspaper, mostly crime stories involving the Yakuza. I have a potentially unhealthy interest in reading about criminal underworlds of all types, so I am, of course, finding this book riveting and will probably go back to it immediately after finishing this post. I'm well on my way to getting 25 books in this year, having finished the following thus far:

Haruki Murakami - Sputnik Sweetheart (definitely not my favorite Murakami, which remains Kafka on the Shore. Pretty forgettable)
Chuck Klosterman - Fargo Rock City (I love Klosterman and all, but this was a little too scattershot even for me)
Benjamin Wallace - The Billionaire's Vinegar (pretty interesting book about the old wine industry, and forgeries in particular. Remember that criminal underground thing I mentioned?)
Chuck Palahniuk - Fugitives and Refugees: A Walk in Portland, Oregon (I read this in about an hour and a half while on a plane to Washington DC, and it was awesome. I will probably pick up a copy at some point)
Sarah Vowell - The Wordy Shipmates (read this on the flight home. It was awful, and I love her contributions to This American Life. Stick to radio!)
Banana Yoshimoto - Kitchen (great stuff, though I preferred Lizard)

Speaking of Portland, we are going over memorial day weekend with some friends, which should be fun. I loved the city on my brief solo trip there last fall, so I am super excited to go again with company. On the menu is getting silly drunk on the regional craft brews, eating lots of voodoo donuts, convincing myself (again) that I don't need the $8000 leather-bound, signed, first edition of The Little Prince at the Powell's rare book room, possibly seeing a show, definitely going back to the chinese gardens, definitely checking out the rose test garden, which I missed out on last time, and ideally trying what they call barbecue out there. Staying at the Ace Hotel again. STOKED.

Finally, I think I suffer some cognitive dissonance when it comes to the subject of shows. I have what some people might call a fondness for music, and always get really excited to go to shows, and then never have that great of a time when I actually do go (at least recent shows). So, I am trying to tell myself that it's ok to miss some stuff (like the St. Vincent show in Lawrence going on as I write this post). Cheaper that way anyway. Maybe it's the fact that I'm turning old and grumpy and I'm 5-10 years older than most of the people at the shows for bands I like. Who knows.

On that sourpuss note, farewell for now.

P.S. Sorry Los Campesinos!, but Blogger will not let me put an exclamation point in a post tag, so I've misspelled your name.