Don't Stop Now #8

The playlist for Friday night's show:

Intro - Deerhunter
Cryptograms - Deerhunter
Rubies - Destroyer
Act of the Apostle - Belle & Sebastian
I Love You 'Cause (You Look Like Me) - The Ponys
Next Exit - Interpol
You're So Great - Blur
Wake Up - The Arcade Fire
Monkey - Low
So Here We Are - Bloc Party
Marginal Over - Wilderness
The Best of Jill Hives - Guided by Voices
Things Only I Can See - A Sunny Day in Glasgow
Remember Me - British Sea Power
Let Go - The Postmarks
Impossible - The Clientele
Radio Cure - Wilco
Our Life is Not a Movie or Maybe - Okkervil River
Love Love Love - The Mountain Goats
Hazel St. - Deerhunter
It's Gonna Take an Airplane - Destroyer
Satellite - Elliott Smith
Hard Days 1.2.3.4 - Loney, Dear
Desert Island - The Magnetic Fields
Daughters of the Soho Riots - The National
Dance Steps - The Natural History

The only time it's annoying to be in Boston for these trips back are when I'm unsure if people are around, willing, and available to hang out, and I'm left to sit with a crossword puzzle waiting for my cellphone to *bzzzt. This time, that wasn't much of a problem, thankfully, as old stalwarts Josh, Chase, and Qi wanted to show me their new digs up near Davis Square. The square itself has culture on the same order as Harvard Square, to my surprise. There's a rib shack called Red Bones that's got food that's so good you can't even taste it because the wait is forever. I will tell you that I smelt the ribs from outside a window, which is like getting to first base with them.

I think I inadvertantly brought up the topic of having/wanting/getting a job on three separate occasions during the night, which is nauseating to think about. There's really nothing else of substance for me to talk about, but it's stupid to be yelling all the time (because I'm in a loud bar) about how I can't! Decide! What's right! For me! I got out of the socializing more or less without incident except for one exchange that stuck in my mind:

   Qi - "An-DEE! Andy, look" (points at a small front yard with plants) "...to-MAY-toes!"
   Me - (Dismissive) "Oh... my family has tons of tomatoes."

It's when I occasionally say things like that that I realize I've still not gone as far towards being a pleasant person to talk to as I'd like to believe. The process of progressing as a decent individual for me is like diverting a river that's had a decade to carve out its course. There's a chain of impulses that subconsciously cascades in my mind when I hear something like the tomato comment:

   - I want this person to like talking to me, so I must say something interesting in response.
   - What do I know about tomatoes?
   - I got some tomatoes at home, so I say..
   - But wait, I don't want to sound idiotic, so I must insulate myself with an aloof and superior attitude.
   - The newly repackaged comment is ready for delivery...

When I sense I'm in a situation where my words and ideas will take added meaning with someone, then I can usually override these bred-in tendencies, but what good does that do me in casual and habitual interactions where I need to make or maintain a generally good impression with someone? What I can hope for at this point is that people who are already comfortable with me can find a polite or jokesy way of calling me out on it, like maybe "Andy, the jerk store called... they're running out of you."

The radio show itself was different than any other I've done this season because I had some company in the studio, Sarah and her bffffff Julian. They expressed interest in being there while I played music, and I agreed to let them stay because I had this idea that we could participate in some relaxed banter in between songs, and it would be much more interesting than whatever I could say on my own. It turned out more or less as I'd hoped, but since I'd been used to preparing stilted straight-face monologues for all these months, I was unprepared to hold my own in fast-pace conversation on air, so half of everything that came out of my mouth was a breathless giggle. That must've been annoying for listeners - beyond the usual annoying character of my voice.

Unfortunately, the best banter occurred between us when our mics were off. There'd frequently be some differing perspectives on what was playing or some interesting factoid relating to it that we'd share with one another. We all noticed the different chemistry at work while the music was playing, so the suggestion was half-jokingly thrown out there to turn the mics on over the music in the style of MST3K. I think we all ended up agreeing (though it took maybe a little too long to do so) that nobody would want to listen to three schmoes muttering over the music. It would've probably been a comparable experience to seeing a movie for the first time with the director's commentary turned on.

The reason why radio conversation often sounds the way it does is the perpetual fear of dead air on the part of both the listener and speaker. Natural conversation is always peppered with considering pauses, but without the visual context of the person who's speaking - like when you're listening to the radio - those pauses become immeasurably more awkward because there's no indication that the person is still okay and engaged. This is not as much of a problem with telephone conversations because people can fill in eachother's gaps, but a radio personality can potentially only have background music or maybe sound effects (Honk-honk! Aaaah-OOOO-gah!) and I don't use either.

After crashing with Hana and Klara about 4-5 times so far, I decided to bother Finn for a change. In our exchanges before Friday night, she'd directed me to ascend the wooden catwalk that climbed up the backside of PiKa. There, there would be a tent set up for me to slip under, but all I found at 2:30 am was a crumpled up tarp with what looked to be a lump of blankets underneath. Thanks a lot, Finn. As I considered giving Finn a poison cake in gratitude the next day, I resigned myself to my situation and started to climb underneath the tarp. I lifted it up and started to get on all fours when - whoa! - I found myself pawing some guy's thigh. He woke up with a very irritated expression, and I was lost for words. I sputtered out a startled apology with a feeble attempt to explain myself and then retreated down the catwalk quite embarrassed. It turns out that Finn had been afraid of rain and left a note on PiKa's back door that I'd missed. It said that I was actually not to stay on the roof deck but to stay inside. She should've left me another note to remind me to check that note.

I awoke in the morning to find a proto-Marxist collective skittering about the building like ants. They were cleaning, organizing, and preparing for PiKa's rush, and I figured I could appear a little less conspicuous if I helped out. I had time to burn before lunch, anyways, and sweeping the floors gave me a feeling of monastic peace. So this is how communists distract themselves from eachother's overpowering body odors. But seriously, they are a bunch of decent people who didn't openly sneer at a guest mindlessly roving around the premises chasing their cat.

Orientation was just wrapping up, so I went over to the Tech office to snag some free food while they entertained freshmen during an open house. About half a dozen of the tykes shuffled in meekly to listen to the chairman describe how the newspaper works in general. The upper management of the Tech staff did an uncharacteristically good job of speaking about the different departments considering how goddam irritating they can be. Oh, I spoke too soon; they got irritating about half an hour into it. I'm counting on Sarah to bring in decent people to write for her. I still hold affection for the paper, and I want to believe the MIT campus deserves intelligent rock music coverage.

I couldn't really gauge how much interest any of the frosh had in writing for the Tech. All I did sense was that they looked trapped, and if they did want to leave and go check out something else on campus, I don't see how they could've without creating a situation. As such, they had to listen to an exuberant windbag go off on a fifteen minute story to nowhere while cheap ice cream melted on the table. That there were only half a dozen prospective noobs should not be a cause for alarm; Sarah said she got a lot of signatures at the activities midway the day before, and the Tech is the kind of club you can join at any time without any trouble. That's how I got into it during my freshman year, actually, so I'm still optimistic. Sarah can always harrass people on facebook to get them to join if she deems it necessary.

As for my radio show, I'm facing a difficult decision about whether to continue it for the fall/winter season. It's looking more and more like I'm going to have to commit to living in Boston for the long-term if I'm to apply for my show again, and commitment is not my strong suit. It's right above parallel parking and right below cutting my own hair among my suits. I'm starting to think that I should be treating these next two shows (maybe only one show) as my last. Unless something changes, or I decide that spending $45 on a round-trip bus ticket to Boston every other weekend is worthwhile for another several months, I see myself letting my contract run out at the end of September, but I could be persuaded otherwise.