Oh, Canada

I'm moving once again, but it's different than it's been before. And thus, life gets more hectic.

About a week and a half ago, I went up to New York with Rachel and her parents to spend the weekend with them and some friends of theirs. The weekend itself was nice, I'd like to think I was less socially retarded (I use the word in the technical sense) than usual. We took the opportunity to look at a couple of colleges, too. We also picked up the new Harry Potter, which I got a couple of pages into Sunday night and was able to finish it Monday before anyone could ruin it for me (it was pretty good, right guys?).

But as nice a weekend as it was, there was one conversation I had with my mom that was portentous. She had been up in Canada for a few weeks visiting a friend of hers. The lease on our apartment is up next month, so we knew we had to look for a new place. This is a recreation of the conversation:

Her: So, when I get back, you and your sister have to start packing.
Me: Yeah, I know, but we also need to look for a place to live.
Her: Oh, I have been.
Me: [Laughs, a little nervously] I mean, some place not in Canada.
Her: Yeah… Yeah, don't worry, we'll talk after I've made some commitments.
Me: [Quieter, more nervous laugh] You, uh, mean before you've committed to anything.
Her: Yeah, well… No, I don't.

Long and short of it is that she's gotten a job up there and is going to move. Don't get me wrong, Canada is awesome. I've enjoyed the time I've spent there, and in years past joked about moving there (insert quip at the current administration). But Quebec is a long, long way away, and it would mean leaving behind… Too much, in the end. I'm extremely lucky in that I'll be able to move in with my dad and will stay more or less in the same place for the school year, excepting some holidays I guess. As for what happens next summer I cannot say.

So I'll be staying put for the time being. It's going to be hugely weird, having my mom thousands hundreds of miles away for long stretches of time, but it's inconceivable that it could be any other way. I can't move out of the country before my senior year of high school, away from all of my friends when I'm going to have to say goodbye to them next year.

This is why there's been a little more stress in my life than usual.

A Fragile Friday

The past week or so has been extremely busy, but I'm going to take a bit of time and write about Friday before last. I will in particular focus on the Polyphonic Spree concert that night.

Friday was a mixed-up day. I had a lot of trouble getting us out on the road, but we did manage to make it to the train station in Albany on time. There I found out that I had to take two trains, not one, and I was going to get in an hour later than I had been told (5:30 instead of 4:30) because, or so I was told, it was a Friday. I had already been wanting to have caught an earlier train so I didn't take the news all that well.

When my train finally did come, it was ten or so minutes late. Not a big deal, though it made me a bit nervous since I now knew I had to make a connecting train, but I've gotten pretty used to late trains. Unfortunately, because of the tardiness and all of the track-work that Amtrak has been doing, we got stuck behind a local train. I ended up getting into Penn Station an hour after I was supposed to.

I did my best to take it in stride. There was an Acela I could take at five that would still get me in at six or so. But the Acela was sold out! And so was the next regional, at 5:10! I finally managed to get a seat on the next available regional at 6:20, after pleading with the ticket agent; I had no government-issued photo ID on-hand, just my student ID and driver's permit. I suppose something of my desperation must have shown through as she let me slide. The train was on time and I finally, finally got in to Philly at around eight.

Rachel met me at the station and we went and picked up our Polyphonic Spree tickets from my sister who was holding them for me. By that time I was totally burnt out, but cheerfully so. The stress and energy of the day had taken its toll on me, but I was excited for the concert. We got to the Fillmore and managed to get reasonably close to the stage. We bought some merch and I wondered if my legs would hold out the night.

The opening act was a woman named Jesca Hoop. I felt bad for her because she ran into the same problem that Joan as Police Woman did at the Andrew Bird concert: Being a lone, relatively quiet performer, she just couldn't command the attention of the audience. As the background sound of talking grew, she too grew obviously more flustered and irritated. Still, she had a good voice and played the guitar well, and I'd consider picking an album up except for the abortive R&B song she played at the end of her set.

I'll be honest. I'm not sure I would have previously had the Polyphonic Spree in my top-five artists. I've enjoyed them since The Beginning Stages..., and their most recent album, The Fragile Army, is fantastic, but I didn't have anything beyond average expectations of awesome from the show. So it was a surprise to me when it turned out to be probably the best concert I've ever been to. I've been to a fair amount of concerts, and this one still really stood out, in every aspect.

There's a couple of components to judging live shows. It's not just about how well people are playing, and it's not just about the spectacle. Don't get me wrong - The Spree were playing the songs dead-on, and the while the spectacle wasn't quite up to the Flaming Lips, the confetti and lights were good. The thing that was unique about the Spree is that I've never seen a band so into it. They'd got around two dozen people up there, each of whom clearly loved being there. And beyond that, I've never seen an audience give a band so much love, and I've never seen a band give so much love back.

Pretty well emblematic of that was one particular concert-goer. He was dressed like a fancy kind of sailor and was immediately and obviously wasted. Normally that's the kind of person I fantasize about punching. And I soon was; his comportment was lacking, with him shoving people aside and shouting at the lead singer, and trying to shove the sailor cap in his face. To his credit, the frontman did take the hat and pranced around on stage with it for a bit. But what made it impossible for me to hate the drunken sailor was when he turned around after Tim DeLaughter took the hat and I saw his face. It was an expression of such pure, innocent joy that it made further contempt impossible.

It was like nothing I'd seen before. It was an amazing experience. What was even more amazing was that it seemed like it was for the band, too. At the end, DeLaughter thanked us, and it seemed like he was truly sincere about it. Like I said, I've never seen an audience like that, but maybe it was unusual even for the Spree. Apparently there was an earlier, free show that I missed, which makes me sad, but I'm so glad I was there for that. I don't think that's going to be a show that can be topped. You can read the first part of Rach's post for her take on it. But it was great.