One of the first times I came to Charlottesville was to see Sonic Youth play at Trax back in November 1990. It was their only Virginia show on the tour to support "Goo" and Trax is long gone now. The University of Virginia bought it and I think there's a telecommunications apparatus building there now.
I'm listening to Goo as the sun sets on the first day of Daylight Saving Time. The Associated Press put out a reminder that's the way to say it, and I defer to them because I have to have some standards.
For some reason, this community is the one I stayed in and sometimes I have a sense I should leave. Right now I'm wrestling with a time in which there's now a road behind my house and there are plans to convert the intersection in front of my property into a mini-roundabout.
The city didn't answer my questions about that. I've come to expect that as they're overwhelmed and sometimes I think I ask some good questions.
Today I changed the name of this blog again to a lower number. The original idea at the beginning was to imagine my place if you were to list everyone alive at that time in birth order. I've not changed it for a few years, but I just did to reflect the time. I have no idea of its accuracy, but I would imagine 300 million people died since the last time I did so.
I don't view that as macabre but as realistic. I know that one day my story ends. Stories I seek out tell me this often. So I do a lot to make sure my life is stored somewhere so it can maybe live on after me. That's sort of a dangerous thought in a lot of ways, but given that I've lived so much of my life in isolation, it makes sense to imagine taking all of the thoughts I have had and putting them into a format people could enjoy.
"When you're a star, I know you will fix everything," Kim Gordon sings on "Kool Thing" and I remember her walking through Trax with a bottle of something in a paper bag. I didn't live in Charlottesville in 1990 so I have no idea where that came from.
I didn't show up here until 2002 when I moved here to take a job at what was then called the Virginia Foundation for the Humanities. I wrote to a friend tonight that the position was so limiting to me and I clashed a lot with management.
Lee Renaldo sings on "Mote" a lyric that reminds me that I continued to believe in myself for quite a while. I didn't give up when I last that job, and I ended up to live the life that gets me to this point.
"Put me in the equation it's alright"
Now I'm in this life, still connected and thinking about where Trax was, where the Ice Park was, where Vinegar Hill was, where oh so much was as the future takes hold and becomes the present, becomes the past.
From nowhere to nowhere.
I don't know what will happen but I'm not planning on going anywhere. I'll keep unfolding here.
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