Dear Yall,
Well, here it is, another song I wanted to have written. It's perfect. You can say what you want: it's too small, too spare, too self-conscious, too precious. It's absurd, it's dorky, its proportions are as awkward as a can, as dumpy as a housedress. I love it. I won't not!
Dear Readers,
I know, you already have a stack of books, and you don't want it to get so tall it endangers you. Still. And yet.
Let's say this, you have a stack, but you want a good book, a book for right now, a book to help you imagine yourself expanding enough to survive even this tragedy we are living. Or, well, maybe I am claiming too much; how can I be sure you will find this book helpful? Let me try again:
This year I have read over 70 books- I didn't expect to love this one; I thought, I might like it, I thought it might entertain. I had never heard of the author (which is pretty much how it goes for me- no matter how many books I read, I still haven't heard of this book, or that book, or the book you just read!), but I looked at her picture on the internet, and I knew, I knew in an instant that I wanted to read a thing this person had written. Even if it was about a big dog; and well, you know, me and dogs, we have a kind of complicated relationship ever since one knocked me down when I was 4 or 5 and broke my tooth on the sidewalk.
Let me set the record straight, it isn't just about a big dog. (Also, and if you have read any dog lit, you may be worrying, the dog does not die.) It is also about Big Life. I am looking for instructions for how to live Big Life, and this book, The Friend, is a good guide. I think you will enjoy it, should you add it to your stack!
I have to run now, because I need to go and get all the other Sigrid Nunez books!
Stay, Nancy Dwyer, 1987.
Dear More,
Make way for more amazingness! Your song for today is one I don't recall hearing- but, you know, I have forgotten lots of really good stuff. This is one for playing loud, and you should know that I heard it from a guy on Instagram; a guy who sits there and enchants you with his feeling for music. Here at Radio Dodo, you will get less enchantment, but you will also get the whole song, and Ms Ellison will enchant you in any case.
Dear Radio Dodo Listener,
A few weeks ago, my favorite DJ played your song for today: An incomparable lament, filled with hope and longing, futility and yearning: The Losing End. As a bonus, you get this original version, too! And on special today only: The Meat Puppets!
Dear Hours and Days,
It has been a long time, 5 years, I think anyway, for my medicine to work. Ah, maybe it has been many more years than even that? The mind is very hard to change. I don't mean the part of your mind that chooses which ice cream to get- I mean the part that seems to be hewn of bone, immoveable, unplastic. Yes, science tells us the brain is all kinds of mutable, but, I am speaking of the learned things, the mind that is your conscience. The mind that tells you when it thinks you are good and when it thinks you are bad and the mind that spends two hours analyzing if you asked her about the funeral gently enough or if you should have said nothing. That mind, the authority part of your mind. Ah, it's so rambling and vague, isn't it?
What I mean, I think, is that I set about looking for a different foundation, a different sort of tool for coping- you might call it acceptance, you might call it anything you like, actually. But it felt like an open wound, irritated constantly, throbbing at night, and unresponsive to salves or balms. It isn't, no it isn't gone, it is less. Noticeably less. Why? It's hard to say, but I think it is because of wonder. I have spent a good amount of time working to wonder. To encourage wonder. I don't mean answers, I mean questions.
Questions like these:
Why do I grind my teeth when they say that? Where does my idea of 'right' come from? What do I think my duty is? Who told me it was my duty? Who told me to be quiet? Who told me to be nice? Who told me to smooth things flat? Why do I jump in there to try to make it less awkward?
A leopard can, I think, change its spots, a little anyway.
Dear Y'all,
Time to mark the days again. To celebrate, I think I might get myself a subscription to Roller Rag. What, though, will you do to mark this day? You know what I think you should do, but, if you don't want to skate, I still love you anyways!
