so as the past goes breaking by....

This week certainly wouldn't make my Top Ten Weeks list. For the past 4-5 days I've been nauseous for a good part of each day, and I'm pretty sure that I'm not pregnant. And somehow, likely either in one of the dog parks or while shooting hoops, I seem to have screwed up my knee. I've never had a knee problem in my life, but something's going on. I tried to fire up some threes yesterday and just couldn't. The little pain in my left knee was resulting in freakin' brick after brick. I'm talking Louis Orr bombs that were drilling side backboard. I called it a day and took Bennett to the park.

To me, these are the times that I learn the most. The things that I love take on a deeper and more resonant meaning. For example, listening to the Jim James/Calexico cover of Dylan's "Goin' To Acapulco" sounded so sweet today. And the Thao song "Goodbye Good Luck" makes me very happy. And then I had lunch with a pal today and the conversation was long, deep, hilarious, insightful and just kinda moving. And I talked to N tonight and it felt really nice. And I'm about to start Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian, which I'm quite excited about. And the Yanks seem to win every game, which despite my issues with MLB, is pretty fun to watch (I like Hughes and this Cervelli kid).

And then there was the discovery of Richard Buckner's performance on Daytrotter. My love of Buckner is no secret, and I've worried of late if he's done with music. He had that interview a few years ago where he kinda hinted that it's a wrap and it's been four years since Meadow. And last time I saw him live he looked pretty bad: bloated, voice suffering, the passion just not there. When I see those who mean the world to me in such shape, it's heartbreaking. I don't know Richard Buckner, but his music has played an enormous role in my understanding of things. I remember driving back from Central Pennsylvania one night and at around 3am, still a few hours from home, I listened to Devotion & Doubt. The highway was completely barren. I was alone with this music. The record is so deep and dives into our core that it was somewhat overwhelming. I felt lonely but was enjoying the loneliness because it felt like the words understood. Or maybe I was understanding Buckner. I felt some solace in that hour. When considering heroes and stuff like that, I've come to gain greater and greater respect for folks like Buckner. I mean, these folks make such unbelievably important art, it goes virtually unnoticed, yet they keep on, with little (if any?) monetary return. I hope folks like Buckner, Easton, Roby, Pernice, Farrar, Vlautin, Best, Johnson, Mann, Russell/Smith, Ryan, Robinson and the rest know how much their music means to me, and others. I couldn't imagine my life without them. When I heard Buckner's "Town" from Daytrotter, I almost lost it. I thought he was gone, but the emotion in this take is some of the best of Buckner. Just stunning. And I'm incredibly grateful to be given such a gift. We all should be. Artists, especially the great ones, deserve more.

That's my take on things now at 851pm on a Saturday night. Bennett's at my feet, Buckner's coming through the headphones and I'm going to spend this night listening to my heroes.