stand in the fire

Music, to paraphrase Pete Townshend, not only helps you transcend your problems–it helps you to dance all over ‘em. That’s the way I feel these days listening to Warren Zevon’s Stand In The Fire, a nearly forgotten yet flawless live album that takes his down-on-their-luck characters and his self-deprecatory charm and turns the whole thing into, well, one big freakin’ party. After all, it’s pretty hard to focus on your own problems when you’re dancing around the room…and believe me, I know. I may be a lover but I ain’t no dancer, as Paul McCartney wrote; but I can damn sure try. And I can still lose myself in music just about anytime I damn well please.

That sort of release is a special gift, I know. When I was younger I was constantly afraid that I would someday lose the ability to feel music so deeply. But I needn’t have worried; music is in my DNA or something. “I wanna dance, I wanna sing, I wanna bust up everything,” Mick Jagger sang. And yeah–I still feel that way at least a few times each and every week. I can’t play guitar without channeling Townshend: I have to jump around the room. I suppose I’m some sort of animal with a guitar…but I can say with only modest embarrassment that it’s all right with me.

But back to Warren Zevon. His songs can be achingly heartfelt and direct, but it’s the celebration of hard luck and bizarre yet hilarious characters that made him so very special. Werewolves? Headless mercenaries? Only Warren Zevon could combine that sort of dark humor with biting lyrics and commentary. The man was good; the man is missed.

I’m the innocent bystander
Somehow I got stuck
Between the rock
and a hard place
And I’m down on my luck

Stand In The Fire is reckless, frenzied, urgent, funny, exciting, and absolutely essential listening for anyone who loves what we used to call rock ‘n’ roll. I’m listening to it now…and I’m dancing around the room.

I’ll sleep when I’m dead

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your view of my humble literary abilities, this is definitely not going to be one of my thoughtful, introspective posts (I think my one hour of sleep last night precludes that). Back just now from Pennsylvania and in the unusual position of being glad the trip is over (ordinarily, I pretty much love to fly). So I’ll simply provide a short update of what’s going on right now.

I’m confident that I interviewed well, but I don’t have a particularly good feeling about the outcome. That’s the funny thing I’ve learned about interviewing over the years: sometimes you shoot the moon and get passed over, and sometimes you, well, suck and still end up with a job offer. I would say it’s definitely harder to handicap than a maiden race for two-year-old thoroughbreds. You give it your best shot and hope for the best…other than that, there’s not a lot you can do.

I definitely believe, however, that I would love both the job and living in State College. The company is a B2B dotcom with a lot of energy and talent and teamwork…my kind of place. I pretty much liked everything about the experience, with the exception of my eleven hour layover Sunday in the Philadelphia airport. That sort of thing, I’m sure you would agree, definitely wears you out.

Even though I’m currently operating on one hour of sleep, I’m fairly relaxed and looking forward to a night of music and checking in on my social networking sites, especially blip.fm.  I’ll do the usual post-interview follow-up tomorrow, and see how it goes from there. In the meantime, I have a few copies of The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal to catch up on, as well as the latest issues of Vanity Fair and Rolling Stone.

Almost forgot…I added a couple of shot glasses to my admittedly cheesy collection…can’t help it, I always like to pick one up at the airport when I fly into a new city. We all have our questionable collections, I suppose…this one, I must admit,  is mine. And it always reminds me of my college era talent for, um, bouncing quarters into the glass. So go ahead and drink up, if you prefer. I’ll stick to my over-caffienated soft drink in the Heineken-colored bottle (all Kentuckians would know what I’m talking about) and play around on the computer until late tonight. And then I’ll probably sleep for days…or maybe, like the Warren Zevon song, I’ll sleep when I’m dead…