Not feeling particularly creative or attentive apparently, for today’s chapter of my 1000 Minutes Project I chose two songs of exactly the same length. I’m sure someone with more knowledge of fate/numerology/whatever might have something to say about the meaning of this, but I just kind of figure that when you choose 250 songs or so, two are bound to be the same length. Anyway, let’s get into it:
There’s a vein of simple, hopeful sadness running right through the opening track of Amos Lee’s eponymous debut album. It’s thoughtful about the end of relationships – with a city, with a landlord, with a girlfriend. While the song is at its most basic about the attempt to achieve a balance in one’s life, it’s also a gentle reminder to appreciate that with which we’ve been blessed.
Often the word home is confused with the structures in which we live; it’s stabilizing to remember that wherever we all end up, it’s our loved ones that are really our homes. And if nothing else, I can’t get over how perfectly the sentiment conveyed right at the start of the second verse is:
I’m in love with a girl who’s in love with the world; I can’t help but follow.
There comes a point each year – right around the end of March – when my spring fever really starts to kick in. The winters around Rochester are long, often severe, and an overall pain in the ass. (See: Lake-Effect Snow.) After the Super Bowl, there’s another month and a half (at least) of terrible weather. It’s enough to affect a person’s sanity.
But, as March draws to a close, things finally start to look up as far as our weather is concerned. The ground is mostly visible – except for the two-story snow mounds in parking lots around the city, and the constant threat of snow is gone. Despite the lingering chill in the air, Josh Rouse’s “Winter in the Hamptons” always puts me squarely in the mood for warmer days, as if having my car scraped by snow plows for three months wasn’t enough.