To Each Their Own

I hate closing on Thursday nights, mostly because of the difficulty in arranging a ride home at midnight when the doors close. I hadn't spoken to the ex in probably a little over a month, which I really had no problem with. The relatively quiet beginning to summer suddenly saw a spike in memorable evenings in July and, well, new job and all, things were looking a bit nicer these days.

But when the ex first chirped up last week with one of the usual, familiar rehearsed texts about missing me and then another came in Tuesday or Wednesday, I took the opportunity to respond by asking if she would like to give me a ride home on Thursday night.

Would she?! ... Could she?!

The ride back to my house involved much of me catching her up to speed: my quitting the chain restaurant, my starting at a country club closer to home and my recent trip to Atlanta—a subject that I quickly grew uncomfortable with, seeing how:

• a) she expressed disappointment that I "went without her"
• b) I never really intended to bring her in the first place when we were dating (I talked of a "summer road trip" with the boys)
• c) and certainly looking back now on how things did turn out, the idea that I would even remotely reconsider changing them or regret anything (READ: NO)
  

Luckily, that topic died down before any real sordid details could be withdrawn from me and when we did arrive at my house, it only seemed natural that she would come inside.

When first looking at my room—a place she obviously hadn't seen in more than a month—she marveled at how clean it was. And indeed, my bedroom is admittedly pretty pristine compared to when we were dating. Actually, I'd be willing to say that right now after countless hours of organizing and general cleaning, the place looks the cleanest it's been since I moved in.

I thought maybe that alone would be an indication that things were truly different now, but I mistakenly assumed this would go much smoother.

Fast-forward to the morning when the ex catches a glimpse of something else that's changed. I remember at one time here on BMC where I was going to start a glossary for my nicknames I had for exes of mine. But I ultimately scrapped the idea, mentioning somewhere in there how I wanted to begin referring to any future girlfriend as the "groundskeeper," seeing as one of the more fascinating and telling things about ladies is their requests concerning body hair maintenance. (The only thing that comes to mind is this.)

And I guess the ex didn't like what the most recent possible replacement groundskeeper had asked for. Or she was pissed that there was another groundskeeper at all. And then she proceeded to spend the entire morning trying to make me feel bad about it.

I reminded her that we broke up some three months ago now. The phrase I uttered more often than any other this morning had to be, "I think you're just telling me what I want to hear."

I got to saying that a lot since most of what she believes is an appeal to my emotions comes across rather as rehearsed and repetitious.

If you were to take her at her word, then my ex has had some incredibly bad luck—and we're talking about a lot of phone calls she never got, text messages she never received and just about every other sort of totally random explanation for one letdown after another in our relationship.

Or if you have a slightly more cynical nature and have some pretty good reason to believe that you're not getting the whole story in a lot of these cases, then my ex is pretty clearly a pathological liar.

To this day, I've been told that the first text message I "shouldn't have seen" was just a joke and that the other one, I guess, didn't really exist. Or something like that. (She never bothered with an explanation, insisting instead that she never sent anything like that ... since meeting me.)

It might sound kind of silly, I guess, to still be holding the rather damning contents of a couple text messages against your former lover, but when it appears you're not the only one who's being talked dirty to, what feelings of exclusiveness in a relationship are you supposed to still pretend you feel? I could only conclude I couldn't.

And so that's why I bailed on the second-longest relationship of my life—which just goes to show you how meaningless the lengths of relationships are too. (I'm almost always the dumpee rather than the dumper, so it's kind of odd that both of my longest relationships were the only two [real relationships] I can recall that ended when I pulled the plug.)

I couldn't ever see myself realistically trusting this woman again, and I mean really believing her like I know I ought to be and like I know I have in much happier relationships in the past. I know something like that is probably out there, so it's stupid to convincing myself that I should settle for less.

But just as I get overly self-righteous about how wronged I was, there's the ugly truth about a wee little bit of responsibility that I have to accept: I was wrong for going into her phone to find those text messages.

When explaining to that most recent possible groundskeeper about why the ex became an ex, she was more than a little put off by my admitting I acted so paranoid.

And while I want to vehemently argue that I've never done this before and her lying caused me to do this and I only did it twice—but look what I found!—I know full well that this in some way speaks volumes about my insecurity. I used to say "I'd never do that!" when girls spoke of the boyfriends they had breaking into their journals, and now here I was, basically showing the same disdain for one's privacy.

And while I cannot undo what has already been done or unsee what has already been seen, all I can do is move on and promise to never do it again.

That, and shave accordingly.

Cashing in more caps

Round Two:


The second disc from continued Sync purchases was made rather quickly. A few tracks from that last disc ("Shoulda Known" and "She Left Me For Jesus") were largely thanks to reading Andy Langer's suggestions in his Esquire. So with this disc, I did a quick bit of backtracking via the magazine's website and found three back years of columns usually titled something along the lines of "Best Songs You Didn't Hear."

Here's the first 14 I happened to download:


1. "Jingle Bells" — Julian Koster

ANDY SAID:

"It's been said that the violin is the closest instrument to the human voice, but we're going with the singing saw. In a perfect world, Koster's ultracreepy take on this yuletide standard would be in heavy rotation at Home Depot. Best of all, no bells, just saw."

I SAY:

"I give myself for props for finding a 'reason' to post that on the Tumblr in the middle of the summer. Way to go me."

2. "The President's Dead" — Okkervil River

ANDY SAID:

"Whether you hear this meticulously detailed assassination anthem as a protest song, a revenge fantasy, or just a rumination on know-where-you-were moments, it's a ballsy piece of songwriting."

I SAY:

"This song is totally tits. The small details of the day are wonderful enough, but when the three snare pops correspond to the lyrical 'three shots to the head,' the groove really kicks in."

3. “Hush, Hush” — Omar Kent Dykes & Jimmy Vaughan

ANDY SAID:

"In Texas, they say, 'Simplicity don't need to be greased,' which goes a long way toward explaining why this all-star Austin collective's low-down, no-bullshit take on a Jimmy Reed classic is so instantly spellbinding. Just add pulled pork and a Shiner."

I SAY:

"The kind of song I wished they played more often at Lone Star, but luckily I don't hang out there very often anymore."

4. “One Last Round” — Ron Sexsmith

ANDY SAID:

"Rarely has the notoriously meticulous Sexsmith crafted a better melody and narrative than this one -- in which what seems like a gorgeous drinking song on first pass reveals itself as a sharp comment on American consumption."

I SAY:

"I'd be willing to listen to other stuff this guy's done. Good tune that sticks with you longer than you'd imagine on first listen."

5. “Body Baby” — Pharoahe Monch

ANDY SAID:

"Upstaging and outshining Jay-Z on the remix of Amy Winehouse's 'Rehab' may have been this Queens MC's highest-profile moment of the year, but that cameo only hints at the genius of this retro-themed, Elvis-bashing, juke-joint-styled single."

I SAY:

"One of my favorite shower songs when I'm in a hurry. Gets me moving almost as much as Mocean Worker."

6. “Fat Children” — Jarvis Cocker

ANDY SAID:

"The British have a grand tradition of unleashing relentlessly sneering rants, and this ex-Pulp leader is gamely carrying the torch. On a Stooges-meets-Cheap-Trick anthemic blast, power chords and snappy drums belie a narrative so snippy, Cocker outright calls children "maggots," accusing them of trying to kill him for his cell phone."

I SAY:

"I really liked 'This Is Hardcore,' so this track (the reviews don't hurt either) will probably make me pick up 'Jarvis.'"

7. “Up To The Mountain” — Solomon Burke

ANDY SAID:

"The self-proclaimed king of rock 'n' soul has impeccable taste in duet partners: It would take a Ray LaMontagne/Emmylou Harris pairing to find two better voices."

I SAY:

"It really is a beauty."

8. “One Of Us Is Gonna Die Young” — The Ark

ANDY SAID:

"This quirky hand-clapper has more spunk in one chorus than the Killers manage to muster on their entire new record."

I SAY:

"A Swedish glam rock band? Really?"

9. “Auctioneer” — The Broken West

ANDY SAID:

"There's a glut of fashion-obsessed L. A. bands. This one uses the piano, hand claps, tambourines, and lush choruses -- but only in short bursts. Any remaining Matthew Sweet and Jellyfish fanatics will fall for this tale of an intimidating chanteuse."

I SAY:

"I can always appreciate a little good piano, and that's some damn fine piano."

10. “Grounds for Divorce” — Elbow

ANDY SAID:

"As it should, this tightly wound Zeppelinesque foot-stomper reeks like a bartender's rubber mat; it's about a bender at the corner pub, in which the 'seldom-seen kid' in the chorus is the dead friend they're toasting. Cheers."

I SAY:

"Yes, it seems like this might be the time in their careers for me to begin paying attention to them."

11. “Rag and Bone” — The White Stripes

ANDY SAID:

Called it "the summer song we needed" on the June 19, 2007 edition of The Andy Langer Show.

I SAY:

"Did Jack White just get done owning this decade or what?"

12. “Punkrocker” — Teddybears (featuring Iggy Pop)

ANDY SAID:

"A sneering condemnation of Hot Topic--inspired faux punk that resonates almost wholly because it's coming from Iggy Pop."

I SAY:

"Another Swedish band, but probably the one I'm less likely to remember to look for more from since my liking of this song is heavily based on Iggy being a part of it."

13. “Kick, Push” — Lupe Fiasco

ANDY SAID:

Gave the "brilliant skateboarding anthem" Best Chorus for The 2007 ESKY Awards.

I SAY:

"Surprisingly effective storytelling for a tune that feels so light, and yes, that chorus is pretty sweet too."

14. “James Alley Blues” — Wilco

ANDY SAID:

"A seven-year-old live recording of an 80-year-old tune, and the best Wilco recording you've never heard."

I SAY:

"I've been putting off actually buying anything from Wilco for a variety of reasons, but mostly just because so many people I know love them and still listen to them all the time, so I basically hear a lot of their stuff in different backgrounds. But I know the time is coming soon when I finally break down and purchase 'Summerteeth,' 'Yankee Hotel Foxtrot,' and whatever else everybody insists I must have. I certainly enjoy them, but the amount of overpraising fans I know sort of makes me resentful for no really good reason."

Progress, not perfection.

Anyway, a few other things I'd like to post this month before football season begins and, well, writing about anything else has to wait for a real lull. I'll try to keep posting.