I am always shocked at how quickly life surges forward. You’d think someone like me, who thrives on change, antsy to move on as soon as things get too comfortable, would be well aware of this principle. But I am still consistently bowled over at how easy it is to forget some things and remember others, to throw yourself into something totally unknown and call it yours with just a little persistence and fakery. I am simultaneously thankful for it and scared of it. Some things you want to forget, but it’s not so easy to pick and choose what to remember — things get lost accidentally. It’s too easy to cross that line of connection where all of a sudden it might be awkward to call, or an e-mail now takes on a generically cold format. I am good at change, I always have been. I keep busy, I procure new acquaintances, I interact at work and feel gratified, I cook dinners and feel accomplished, I listen to records, read books, take walks — and then sometimes I panic because it all seems like further accumulation of evidence, evidence building up against the past that may eventually be used as Proof of Disconnection. I love it here in Portland. But I am also becoming acutely aware of things I do not want to lose.
Jon Brion - “Little Person” feat. Deanna Storey
This song is featured in the movie Synecdoche, NY, a fantastic Charlie Kaufman film starring Philip Seymour Hoffman. If you haven’t seen it, do yourself a favor and Netflix it ASAP, but make sure you have nothing important to do afterwards because it is highly cerebral and emotionally intense. Without giving too much away, Hoffman plays a theatrical director and playwright who is gradually losing the ability to distinguish between what is reality and what is just part of the production. His sense of self is skewed, and also therefore his memories and relationships. When I saw the scene where Deanna Storey plays a lounge entertainer performing this Jon Brion composition, I paused the movie and looked up the song immediately. In the context of the movie, I have never heard such a simple tune feel so tragic and poignant. Also, Jon Brion is a genius. I almost used something from Eternal Sunshine instead, but thought this might be a better introduction if you are unfamiliar with his outstanding soundtracking.
Bulleit Bourbon Whiskey
Portland is well-known for being a microbrewing mecca, and while beer enthusiasts still run rampant, the hot-topic trend of the moment has been moving on towards artisan liquor. Several acclaimed distilleries now exist right inside the city limits, and anyone who’s anyone is also now a specialty cocktail buff. So why not hop on the train? Although I’m a big fan of a good G&T rocks in warm weather, my liquor of choice has usually been bourbon. My mother has never been a big drinker, but when out to dinner, her standard order has always been a Maker’s Mark and ginger ale, so perhaps it’s genetic. Regardless, I am embarking upon a mission to expand my expertise to include distilled beverages in my routine review cycle.
Bulleit was a recommendation from the dude at Pearl Speciatly Goods as a good first venture away from the more common brands. This particular bourbon has a particularly high percentage of rye vs. corn or barley and therefore slightly less of the vanilla/caramel flavors of Maker’s a little more bitterness and bite. I have never been a fan of sweeter cocktails and liquors, so this is right up my alley. I am tempted to make this a go-to, but I am finding there is so much more to explore.