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Love Is A Mix Tape: Part 2

thescreamingstrawberry — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 22:11:44 +0000

Love Is A Mix Tape: Part 2

(Side A)
Editors: In This Light & On This Evening
Download: http://bit.ly/DhrME Myspace: www.myspace.com/editorsmusic

Julian Plenti: Games For Days
Download: http://bit.ly/XJX9g

The Temper Trap: Sweet Disposition
Download: http://bit.ly/Pc2lK Myspace: www.myspace.com/thetempertrap

Brand New: Okay I Believe You But My Tommy Gun Don’t
Download: http://bit.ly/f7Pjh Myspace: www.myspace.com/brandnew

(Side B)
Noah & The Whale: Blue Skies
Download: http://bit.ly/8kv8g Myspace: www.myspace.com/noahandthewhale

Say Hi: November Was White, December Was Grey
Download: http://bit.ly/1t5iVH Myspace: www.myspace.com/sayhitoyourmom

The Low Anthem: (Don’t) Tremble
Download: http://bit.ly/riuQa Myspace: www.myspace.com/lowanthem

Mumford & Sons: The Cave
Download: http://bit.ly/1KkeeS Myspace: www.myspace.com/mumfordandsons

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* Hopefully the download links are still valid by the host website by the time you click on them. If unsure how to download –> find the song link on the page I’ve linked you to, right click, then ’save target as’. Simple as…

BibPops Wizard Rock Mixtape

øyvind — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 06:01:36 +0000

OK, så du har lest alle Harry Potter-bøkene, hørt alle Harry Potter-lydbøkene, sett alle Harry Potter-filmene og du har allerede kjøpt noen av verdens styggeste Harry Potter t-skjorter.

Da blir spørsmålet – hvor tar du din galskap videre derfra? Svaret leder automatisk til nye spørsmål:

Har du noensinne hørt om The Moaning Myrtles, Sue and the Hufflepuffs eller The Cruciatus Curse? Ikke det? Hva med Draco and the Malfoys eller Harry and the Potters?

Ikke? Men det ringer en liten bjelle nå, ikke sant? Harry Potter-relaterte band er selvsagt de magiske (hi hi) ordene vi leter etter. Eller rettere sagt: Wizard Rock (også kalt «Wrock»)!

Wizard-hva-da?

Wizard Rock - en form for indiepop som (mis)bruker tekster, effekter og outfits fra Harry Potter-universet i sin ofte lettfattlige musikk. Selv om det meste er melodiøst og enkelt i formen finnes det eksempler også på et uttall andre subsjangre, for eksempel den grensesprengende Voldemort-metallen.

Det er naturligvis sjeldent at dette resulterer i stor musikk. Men med hundrevis av band å velge blant klarte jeg nå likevel å satte sammen en mixtape på 8tracks.com med noe av det jeg liker selv. Låtene fant jeg forresten på iTunes.

Det finnes skremmende mengder av dette stoffet andre steder også. Sjekk ut noen av de hundrevis med WR-band på WizardRock.org. Ellers er det jo alltids MySpace og en haug med andre nettsteder der Potter-gærningene møtes.

Personlig liker jeg best de kule jentene i The Parselmouths og ønsker meg derfor The Parselmouths t-skjorte til bursdagen min. Og her er videoen til den feiende flotte poplåta «Spattergroit» (ikke få det, det er verre enn Loser’s Lurgy!).

Bonus 1: Sjekk ut podkasten Accio-Potter Wizard Rock Radio for din jevnlige dose nye Wizard Rock-låter. I skrivende stunds siste utgave kan du blant annet høre låta «Wrock Rocks» (å herregud!) med The Butterbeer Experience (å nei å nei å nei!).

Bonus 2: Sjekk også ut «A Very Potter Musical» på YouTube. Litt dårlig lyd, men festlig og profesjonelt gjennomført både musikalsk og ellers.

Bonus 3: Apropos mixtaper, les gjerne den supernydelige «Love Is A Mix Tape» (Hjemmeside)

I only wish...

erikaleighphoto — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 16:47:53 +0000

…you could see what I see when I look at you. – Kobi Yamada Heartache. I’ve notice

You are never too old...

erikaleighphoto — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 14:59:42 +0000

…to set another goal or to dream a new dream. – C.S. Lewis. Mrs. OFallon. It’s so

All things come...

erikaleighphoto — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 12:46:53 +0000

…to those who go after them. – Rob Estes. Anticipation. I have a list of shots I conside

Say yes to life...

erikaleighphoto — Thu, 06 Aug 2009 19:46:43 +0000

…even though you know it may devour you. – Stephen Larson. Perfection. Oh my sweet Rocco

Five Good Books

dkpresents — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 19:19:38 +0000

Chances are, the MUSIC section of your local bookstore is stuffed to the gills with books you’

Wrapping Up Cupid

marcusandstevi — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 18:55:30 +0000

The Wife:

While I don’t recall ever watching the original run of Rob Thomas’ Cupid back in 1998 with Paula Marshall and Jeremy Piven, I admit that I am the kind of person who would be drawn to such a premise. I love Greco-Roman mythology and I enjoy seeing modern adaptations and spins on it, and offering my “I’m friends with a Classics professor so I totally know what I’m talking about” judgments on whether or not those adaptations succeed. (Although the CW’s Valentine, about Greek gods living in L.A., just didn’t seem to pique any level of interest in me at all. Nor in anyone else, apparently.) So being that I don’t recall ever watching Cupid in the 90s – which I realize now was probably because it was airing on Saturday nights, which just means ABC wanted it dead from the beginning and that I was also probably too busy going to sleepovers, being dared to call boys I liked and read them bedtime stories, to tune in – I figured I would give the reboot a chance.

And you know what? That show totally doesn’t suck.

The generosity accorded to Rob Thomas to reboot his formerly failed series by ABC, however, was not as generous in its feelings toward this show as I am. The original run of the series produced 15 episodes, and aired 14. This run was only 7 episodes, intended as a try-out for fall, because that’s how television producers work these days. ABC killed a few great things this year, one of which might rhyme with “Smushing Lazies,” and I think that left viewers a little mistrustful of anything new ABC had planned to debut in the spring. In the Motherhood, while admittedly not great, was interesting simply for the fact that it was a female-led show about an issue that nearly every woman on the planet can relate to (if she isn’t currently a mommy, she certainly had one once), and had a lot of potential to grow and further explore the current parenting climate (which in the last ten years has switched to the kind of stay-at-home-and-do-everything-right-and-organic-and-be-totally-involved-and-honest-with-your-kids idea embraced by Jessica St. Claire’s character) in relationship to other models (the working mom, the cool mom who raised her kids counter to any advice and everything turned out just fine). But it never quite found its footing and so failed its try-out. Better Off Ted is lucky its quirky mcquirkfest survived. Cupid should have.

Bobby Cannavale: Right on the mark as Cupid.

Why am I so gung-ho about this show? For one, I think Thomas found the right lead in Bobby Cannavale and was smart to move the show from Chicago to New York. Cannavale is good-looking in an Italian Mama’s Boy sort of way, and incredibly affable. It makes perfect sense that he would be the kind of person strangers would invite into their lives if he offered to help them, and it makes perfect sense that he’s the kind of person clever enough to manipulate social situations to facilitate his matchmaking. In short, if Bobby Cannavale asked me to fly to NYC from New Orleans to cater a party as his Trevor Pierce (renamed from the original Trevor Hale) did in one episode where he reunited a Cajun caterer with her high school Iraqi war vet sweetheart, I probably would. As for the move from Chicago to NYC, NYC is often a space that invites fantasy in many popular stories. I’ll name only one example here that should serve as the paramount one: Miracle on 54th Street. It’s a city with its own mythology and a long history of being a dreammaking place: for immigrants, for actors, dancers and musicians, for artists and also for writers. It’s also a city in which people move and mingle with others numerous times a day, but promotes the isolation of modernity in that while its denizens inhabit mutual spaces, they don’t often connect with each other. I buy it as a place a god would try to turn into matchmaking central, especially because his therapist’s single’s groups prove to be an integral part of how the show’s main and peripheral characters, and how they are all trying to break away from the isolation of modernity and connect with others. There was talk in the production process that Cupid would relocate to Los Angeles, and while Francesca Lia Block has convinced me that L.A. can be a space of magical realism, I don’t think it would have worked nearly as well as New York did.

Furthermore, I like the idea of a show that believes in the concept of true love. We live in an age where the CW exploits people’s relationship issues on national television with Hitched or Ditched, where we look at the tabloids every day to see if John & Kate are going to fall the fuck apart (uh . . . yeah, that’s probably going to happen since the couple has a very special “announcement” pending; and I hate that I don’t watch that show and know about this), and where hookups have somehow replaced dating. We all know that the divorce rate is high, and we all know that my home state has leveraged a terrible and oppressive measure against its non-heterosexual residents that bar them from even daring to challenge that statistic with their same-sex relationships. When I look at the divorce rate and the disappearance of date culture, it seems like a good number of us have given up even trying to sustain a partnership; that we prefer to be alone, save for a brief interaction every now and again that we don’t have to put any further energy into. While I wouldn’t say that having a life partner is right for everyone, I certainly like having someone to watch TV with every day. It makes me feel like this big, giant world is less lonely. That isolation of modernity thing I was talking about? Having someone to go through life with certainly makes me feel less isolated.

So when I see so much negativity toward relationships in the reality television world and in the real actual human world, I can’t help but be smitten by a scripted show that tries to remind us of the good parts of being in a relationship with someone, and how fun it can be to take that plunge. Cupid may only be a string of meet-cutes, but it’s also about love overcoming obstacles. None of the matches Cannavale’s Cupid makes in the 7-episode run are easily procured, and, somehow, through his crazy/divine providence, he is able to unite these couples in the promise of everlasting love. I’ve already mentioned the Cajun caterer and the Iraq veteran, which came to a bittersweet ending as the vet announces that he’s getting stop-lossed and sent back for a third tour of duty, something he planned to avoid by running away to Canada and never coming back – only to change his mind and do his tour of duty, knowing that if he lived, his Cajun caterer would be worth coming home to in order to live out their days under the willow trees in their hometown in Louisiana.

But perhaps my favorite of these divine matches came in the final episode, featuring adorable Broadway ingénue Kerry Butler as a working-class masseuse from South Boston in love with a man above her station (whom she broke up with because he never let her meet his family because of her wicked pissah of an accent). Cupid’s therapist, Claire, tries to find out his origin by hiring a linguist (one of her patients, as well) to listen to him speak and determine his origins. The “using linguistics to discover Trevor’s origins” plot was recycled from the show’s first incarnation, but the My Fair Lady angle was entirely new to this version of the series. But Cupid performs a bait-and-switch, setting up Kerry Butler with illocution lessons in exchange for massages, during which she forms a friendship with the linguist over several delightful My Fair Lady-esque diction lessons. Butler’s character is almost ready to give up, and declares that it doesn’t feel right to her to hide herself just to impress a guy, at which point her linguistics tutor reveals that he, himself, has been lying for most of his life. He, too, is from South Boston, but wasn’t taken seriously on his first day at Princeton because of his accent and worked very hard to eliminate all traces of his working-class roots from his speech. After sending Kerry off to meet with her ex at a fancy, uptown party, Trevor realizes in talking to the linguist that, perhaps, he’s been guiding Miss Butler toward the wrong beau and disguises the linguist as a waiter to crash the party and tell Kerry how he feels. After making a scene in which Butler’s intended’s parents reprimand “the help” for being so clumsy, Kerry throws off the upper-class accent she’s worked so hard for and embraces who she really is, as well as the Henry Higgins who reminded her of that.

If I had one complaint about Cupid, it would be that Sarah Paulson’s Dr. Claire McCrae never quite felt real enough – and not for Paulson’s lack of trying. She’s a great actress, with a lot of range, and if you want to see how great she can be, please watch her arc as a Pinkerton on Deadwood and her completely stunning comic performance in Peyton Reed’s 1960s screwball romance send up, Down with Love, in which you will also be treated to Ewan McGregor’s delightfully Ewan McGregor-y Southern accent. Paulson never got to break through her material here, and always seemed too stiff to fit into this world, which is only justifiable in the fact that her awkwardness in the role highlighted the irony that she, single and totally uncomfortable with people, should be in charge of teaching people how to find love through commonality. I think, if the show had gotten more of a chance, Claire would have eventually felt more real as her own walls started to break down and we learned as much about her as she does about Trevor Pierce.

I’ll miss this show, and I’m sad that we live in a world that’s unaccepting of its existence. But I’ll cherish that “My Fair Massuese” episode, if only because linguists are awesome and the following line is one of the best things I’ve heard on television recently:

“Nothing says ‘Thank You’ like the phonetic alphabet on cupcakes!” – Kerry Butler

The Husband:

A few points of interest:

1.) I adore Sarah Paulson, but between this and Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, she’s gaining quite a few detractors. She’s not to the point of being an absolute show-killer just yet, but her dedication to her craft, which allows her to make very interesting decisions with very intense and sometimes unlikable characters, tends to give her a bad wrap, at least on television. But I can assure you that she’s one of the most versatile actresses of her generation, including her deeply strange performance that I saw in 2005’ Broadway production of The Glass Menagerie, also starring Jessica Lange, Christian Slater and Josh Lucas.

2.) I started noticing this right around the time that Kidnapped, Six Degrees, The Black Donnellys and 3 lbs. were all canceled in the same television season, in that unless a show was a Law & Order or a CSI, any show that filmed in New York was about 90% guaranteed to be canceled. And this year, that trend came back in a big way. With no exception this year, no show that premiered in the 2008-2009 television season and was shot (not just set) in New York was renewed for another season. (And Castle doesn’t count, because it’s shot in L.A.) This would include Life on Mars, The Unusuals and now Cupid. (And last year’s Lipstick Jungle, which moved on into this year, couldn’t survive either. But hell, at least it got a second season unlike the majorly similar Cashmere Mafia.) A part of me wants to say it’s the distancing location that seems to turn many non-New York viewers off, as if these shows take place in a world far too unlike the viewers’ that it simply doesn’t pique their interest. But, more than anything, it’s the fact that it’s so goddamned expensive to shoot in NYC, so even when ratings are doing okay, the networks use the expenses as an excuse to shut down production. I’m amazed Gossip Girl got renewed for a third season, since the ratings are so abysmal, but it’s definitely a pop cultural flagship for the network, so canceling it would just make the CW lose more viewers.

A book recommendation for ANYONE who liked the "Left of the Dial" episode of Cupid: Rob Sheffield's Love Is a Mix Tape.

3.) While I loved almost every episode of this show, my favorite, simply from a dramatic perspective, was “Left of the Dial,” in which a down-on-his-luck radio deejay tracks down his favorite caller and starts a relationship with her and her two children. It was the sweetest, least negative and most realistic episode of Cupid’s altogether too short season, and it’s a shame that not enough people stuck around to even watch the episode.

My old ticker.

matthewfmurphy — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 15:59:11 +0000

Thanks to all the episodes of Scrubs I’ve watched recently for inspiring this blog’s title.

Life is fragile. I’m about two-thirds of the way through Rob Sheffield’s LOVE IS A MIX TAPE: Life and Loss One Song at a Time. It’s the second book in a row I’ve read where the wife dies suddenly after just over five years of marriage. I didn’t select either book knowing what they were about. As I do with most of the random books I read, I chose them based on their title and/or book cover. By the way, the other book I read was called LONG WAY BACK. It sucked. I mean, I could relate to the main character in some ways, particularly his music taste and being defined and soothed and counseled and driven, etc. by music, but the book was just pointless. It started nowhere, but then it made a promise of spiritual renewal and resurgence…a promise that I was excited about, but alas was never fulfilled.

Both books deal with husbands whose wives pass away suddenly and unexpectedly; one from a pulmonary embolism and the other from a burst brain aneurysm. Both books use music to convey emotion to the reader. Both husbands use music as a way to cope with the awful. Both husbands are defined by and driven by music; one as a musician, one as a DJ and writer. It is incredibly easy for me to relate to both husbands, and yet terrifying.

Rob Sheffield talks about when his wife died and he lay on the floor in the fetal position amidst the detritus left by the EMTs who never truly had a chance to save her. He just stayed there clutching the phone, waiting for Renee to call and say there was a mistake and she would be returning home. In LONG WAY BACK, the main character, Francis, retreats to his basement, dons his dead wife, Lourdes’ Harvard Medical sweatshirt and clicks aimlessly and incessantly through channels on his big screen TV for months, only stopping to pay the pizza delivery boy or watch the occasional Boston Bruins game. Reading these stories and being so similar to these men in many ways, I’m forced to think about life without Becky and alternatively, the selfish hope that if I pass away first, I won’t have to suffer that pain and loss.

Neither husband in these books had kids, and I do, so I don’t think I would get the luxury of watching TV aimlessly or lying on the floor. I would have to be a dad, and I would like to believe that I would be the best possible, but outside of fatherly duties, I fear I would be an empty shell, moving mechanically through life without my love.

I’m a “take it for granted” kind of guy by nature. I’ve known this for a long time. I remember standing outside Marshall Hall as a sophomore being lectured by Juliette. She said, “You take this relationship for granted. You just think that I’m always going to be here and that now that we’re dating, you don’t have to do anything else.” I probably denied that all the while knowing how true it was. Becky and I have had almost identically-worded…uh…let’s say “discussions.” I’ve been making a conscious effort over the past few years not to take things for granted.

The sun. It is beautiful. I try to indulge in its beauty. Ariella. I try to mentally capture as many smiles, kisses, hugs, laughs, accomplishments and tribulations as my inadequately human brain can store. My parents. In all likelihood, my folks are going to kick it before I do. I don’t want to waste any time I have with them. I love them. Most of all, though, I’ve been trying not to take Becky for granted. I wish I knew how to express the attention I’ve been trying to pay her. I try to capture and remember even the most mundane moments: the way she wiggles into (or out of) the tank tops she wears as pajamas, the way the skin of her shoulders looks darker in the light reflected off our red bedroom walls than it does in the fluorescent wash of our kitchen, the way she smiles knowingly when she asks me how my workday went and I reply with only a word or two, the way she eats popcorn (even though she knows I hate it) during movies without ever taking her eyes off the screen…the list could go on for miles. I like to think I’m constantly getting better at not taking things for granted.

And on Friday, I had a reminder. I think of myself as relatively healthy. I dropped 80 pounds a couple years ago, and I really try to watch what I eat and get some exercise every day. Bad stuff runs in my family though. My mom has high blood pressure. My dad has diabetes. My grandfather has diabetes and a litany of other issues. My paternal grandparents both died from cancer. My aunt just died from complications of M.S. Another of my aunt’s also has an aggressive form of M.S. Another aunt has like 100 artificial joints (and that is probably barely an exaggeration) due to rheumatoid arthritis. My grandmother has fibromyalgia. My brother has asthma. I feel like a lot of my life has been learning how to feel alive around sick people.

On Friday, Becky and I were downstairs watching Scrubs on DVD before bed, and around 11:00 PM, we headed upstairs to get ready to sleep. I immediately split for the bathroom to empty the old bladder, as is my custom. Becky went to change into PJs. As I stood there peeing, I had this light-headed cold-sweaty feeling. I remember thinking, “Am I about to throw up? What did I eat last? The chicken seemed cooked well enough.” The next thing I remember was hearing a really loud, close-by crashing sound. Then, I remember Becky saying, “What happened? Are you okay?” I felt like I’d been asleep and she was waking me from a bad dream, but when I opened my eyes, I found myself sitting on the bathroom floor with my back against the wall and window sill, my fly still open and a huge bruise and scrape on my back.

Ashamed and somewhat scared, I picked myself up, and rushed to bed. My head was still soaked in a cold sweat, and if I was going to pass out again, I wanted to already be horizontal. The loud crash I heard? That was my back slamming into the wall, blinds and floor. I felt really out of it for the rest of the night, and the following day, while I felt more or less okay, my head felt somewhat disconnected.

I hate doctors, but I think it might be time to get a check up. Make sure the old ticker’s working properly. Until right now, only Chip, my confidant of late, and Becky know about this. Welcome to the concerns in my life.

Love Is A Mix Tape: Part 1

thescreamingstrawberry — Fri, 15 May 2009 21:59:37 +0000

The mega mix on this bloggy wog is pretty much my musical emporium of audio gems! Well…some old bands and/or new bands, some happy songs and/or sad songs, so on so fourth, basically bands I love and I hope you love too. Check them out. If you would like me to forge you a mix of mine, just ask. But for now open your bulbous blinkers and gaze below…

Every ‘Love Is A Mix Tape’ mix on here is short and sweet, around 8 songs or so, with each song there is either a link to download the mp3 or a myspace address to just listen to the band, or both. Enjoy. And don’t forget, if you have any recommendations or bands you love just leave a comment!

Love Is A Mix Tape: Part 1

(Side A)
Morrissey: Somethings Scratching The Back Of My Skull
Download: http://bit.ly/OW5hj Myspace: www.myspace.com/morrissey

Death Cab For Cutie: I Was Once A Loyal Lover
Download: http://bit.ly/h8HCE Myspace: www.myspace.com/deathcabforcutie

Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Heads Will Roll
Download: http://bit.ly/S5Dk Myspace: www.myspace.com/yeahyeahyeahs

White Lies: Unfinished Business
Download: http://bit.ly/toAyi Myspace: www.myspace.com/whitelies

(Side B)
The National: Fake Empire
Download: http://bit.ly/z9eu0 Myspace: www.myspace.com/thenational

Bat For Lashes: Sleep Alone
Download: http://bit.ly/x1PoT Myspace: www.myspace.com/batforlashes

Bon Iver: Skinny Love
Download: http://bit.ly/19usWy Myspace: www.myspace.com/boniver

Silversun Pickups: Creation Lake
Download: http://bit.ly/lPmBt Myspace: www.myspace.com/silversunpickups

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Reaper 2.3: "The Sweet Science"

marcusandstevi — Wed, 18 Mar 2009 17:38:06 +0000

The Wife:

This episode of Reaper was all about doing things in service of others, whether that means throwing a fight with the son of Satan, killing off a fake employee or simply not telling your friends that you’re dating a demon. My main issue with this episode was that the biggest thematic element (Sam capturing the soul; a boxer who went to hell for throwing a fight back in the 50s) was completely lost amid the two stronger comic subplots. As in, I was so uninterested by it until its final third that I didn’t even think it was going to add up to anything at all.

Sam’s plot is framed with a funny gag about The Devil tempting alcoholics by running AlAnon meetings and asking participants to test their strength by going to their favorite bar and ordering their favorite drink, knowing full well that they won’t be able to resist. The Devil tells him about the soul of the week, Red Sabotini, a boxer who needs to be sent back to hell with one good punch to the chin – his signature move. Sam’s first attempt to fight the boxer back to hell goes terribly, and his second doesn’t go all that much better (he accidentally knocks himself out), even though he is more prepared to goad Red into fighting poorly by constantly bringing up the bribe he took that made him take a fall at the championships in his heyday. But after their second bout, Red tells Sam that he’ll go back to hell willingly, if only he can stay a couple more days in the mortal realm so that he can fight in the championships in Vegas and win. Sam takes this proposition to The Devil, who tells Sam that there’s no chance in hell of making that arrangement with Red. Souls do not get a chance to make good on their mistakes.

Sam feels some pity for Red, a man whose one mistake, taking that bribe and throwing that fight, sent him straight to hell. He can sympathize, as someone doomed to hellfire for the greedy mistakes of others, and he suggests that the soul run to somewhere Sam can’t find him, begging him to not waste his escape from the Devil’s clutches on achieving something he couldn’t in life. But Red won’t do it, claiming that he needs that championship title to absolve him of ruining his career, and The Devil catches up with them, threatening that the two men must fight and it can only end one of two ways: one of them gets sent back to hell, or the other will die. Red relives the moment where he threw the championship fight, pulling Sam close to his face and begging him to make it look good when he knocks him out. And so Red gets sent back to Hell, to save Sam.

Andi got some really excellent material this week as she was, inevitably, promoted to manager of The Work Bench. In an effort to not be like Ted and earn the respect and love of her employees, she offers a gift card drawing which is won by an employee that no one seems to have ever met named Les Nessman. It’s pretty clear to me that Andi’s going to give the guys some leeway in managing their Work Bench duties with their demon-fighting, soul-catching duties, but she also goes out of her way to make it look like she’s not playing favorites with them, especially when she deduces through a series of small inquiries that Sock is Les Nessman and has been taking home Les’ extra paycheck for two years. Andi tries to level with Sock and asks him to resign Les, or else she’ll have to fire Les. Sock, in retaliation, calls corporate and files a sexual harassment claim against Andi on Les’ behalf. This infuriates Andi, and Sam encourages her to do something equally low to Sock, as the only way to best him is to sink to his level . . . or possibly far below it. So Andi, in a stroke of brilliance, calls in some grief counselors from corporate and announces in front of all of her employees the untimely passing of one Les Nessman, who died, tragically, on the toilet, not doing something cool as a grief-stricken (and extra money-less) Sock cries out during the announcement.

As amusing as that was, the best part of this week’s episode was Ben’s new girlfriend. From an actor’s perspective, I think Nina is probably one of the most fun female characters that I’ve seen in a long time. She’s sexy and awkward and somehow really adorable, even as she constantly reminds you that she’s actually a demon. I really enjoyed the writing for this character and thought that Jenny Wade’s performance demonstrated both a mastery of comic timing and a thorough sense of character. I’ve only seen this girl in a brief role on Pushing Daisies as one of Joel McHale’s many dog-training wives in “Bitches” and in John Gulager’s Feast, but I hope her role on Reaper catapults her to greater things. Jenny Wade is definitely the best actress this show has employed, and that’s saying something coming from an admitted lover of one Jessica Stroup such as myself. I am officially a fan of you, Jenny Wade. And I will watch anything you’re ever in from now on.

What? I enjoy a good feast . . . don't you judge me!

Ben decides to introduce Nina to his friends, but isn’t yet sure he wants to tell them that she’s a demon – especially that she’s the demon who tried to kill Sam last week. The gang proceeds to have one of the most awkward dinners ever, with Nina filling in an approximation of humanness as best she can, but failing adorably. There were so many great things about that scene in particular, but I particularly loved her answer to Andi’s simple inquiry into where she’s from: “I’m from the Kansas.” And how could anyone not find her quick response to Sam’s offer of half a hamburger hilarious, as she jumps up and stabs his burger with a steak knife, giddily taking the burger into her hands and then keeping it close to her mouth like a squirrel that really doesn’t want to share? That shit was hilarious. Also hilarious:

“I wanted to eat his meat before those guys got it.” – Nina

Seeing Nina launch a knife in Sam’s direction, however, is not funny to Ben, who worries that his demon girlfriend might only be dating him to get close enough to Sam to kill him. Nina assures Ben that she isn’t out to get Sam, giving him a pretty Hell-geode as a sign of her affection and good faith. Hell-geodes sure have a lot of restrictions for use, though. You can’t sleep next to them or they’ll give you nightmares, can’t put them near nuclear reactors, and so on. But even with that assurance on the table, that doesn’t stop Ben from growing even more suspicious when Nina nearly runs over Sam with her car. She insists that it was an accident, as even though the DMV is run by demons, it doesn’t preclude that they can actually drive cars. Ben gets a little too agitated by this event, which results with Nina blurting out to Sam that she is a demon. Outraged, Sam declares that he cannot be friends with Ben unless he breaks up with Nina because with her around, his life is in constant danger.

Realizing that Sam might be right, Ben takes Nina out to a nice restaurant and breaks the news, but not before hiding all flatware items from his and other surrounding tables just in case she gets a little crazy. Nina, however, is heartbroken.

“You’re crying . . . and your tears are made of acid.” – Ben

She tells Ben that she really did like him, but that she understands that he’s scared of her and that he friends are scared of her. And so she tearfully leaves Ben with a goodbye kiss. After his experience with Red and Red’s sacrifice for him, Sam tells Ben that he should get back together with Nina, admitting that it was selfish to not trust Ben’s instincts. So Ben gets his demon back, and everyone’s happy, except Sock who, in fairness to the rest of the employees at The Work Bench is out an extra paycheck, and The Devil, who is very, very uncomfortable with the knowledge that Red threw his last fight to save Sam, making The Devil himself into an inadvertent good-doer.

Again, although the soul of the week was not my favorite part of this episode, this was one of the most enjoyable episodes in awhile. And it didn’t have the Kristen-and-Sock plot at all! I’ll take more Nina over that any day.

One more funny one from Nina:

“I like to get up in there and feel the heart beating before I squish it with my hands.”

The Husband:

Here’s what’s extra funny about Sock’s plot – “Les Nessman,” the name of his fake alter ego, was the name of the nerdy news director on from WKRP In Cincinnati.

Now, usually, I know much of this TV trivia immediately upon hearing or seeing a reference, and usually shift over to Wikipedia to double-check. But this week, I have a confession to make – I had no idea that Les Nessman was a character from anything. While I am in the midst of a TV-on-DVD experiment that allows me to expand my knowledge of older 30-minute shows, and that WKRP In Cincinnati is near the top of my list for “classics to watch at some point over the next five years,” I know nothing about this revered show other than it’s about a television station, it takes place in Cincinnati, and that Loni Anderson was in the cast.

I wouldn’t have even bothered to look up the name “Les Nessman,” as it sounds like such a silly, made-up name that I thought it was just a construct of Reaper going into Sock’s addled brain. But last night, as I was reading music critic (and VH1 personality) Rob Sheffield’s wonderful-so-far memoir Love Is A Mix Tape, I came across the following passage in his chapter about the mix tape he made for his school dance when he was 13:

I had never made out, smoked, drank, broken a law, set fire to a car, vandalized a cemetery, or worn socks that matched. But I had the passion for rock and roll; I was a regular Dr. Johnny Fever in the body of a Les Nessman.

Wait, what? In one night, I hear a name used in an episode of a CW supernatural action comedy and just happen to read the same name only hours later, which in turn prodded me to look up the name? Coincidence? I think it was the TV gods helping me in writing this blog.

So yes, through a bit of fate, I have thus brought to you the fact that Sock, while clever enough to create a fake person and receive two paychecks, can’t even come up with an original name, and had their former manager been a bit more of a television viewer, Sock could have been in big trouble.

Sometimes it’s the little things in life that make you feel good. This is one of them.

Call Me 37 Today

Literate Housewife — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 15:43:44 +0000

Well, the day has finally arrived and I can no longer say that I am 36. Well, I was born at around 9:50pm, so I could wait to say I’m 37 until tonight, but that’s being a little ridiculous (although if you agree with the whole date and time thing, you’ll make me exceedingly happy right up until 9:49pm).

Seriously, 36 was a wonderful year. I feel that I’ve come into my own in my career and as a book blogger. I have read 70 books since my last birthday and have reviewed 64. It would be hard for me to pick out a favorite from during that time, but the books that have stood out in my 37th year are The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff, Gardens of Water by Alan Drew, The Last Queen by C.W. Gortner, The Autobiography of Henry VIII by Margaret George, The Witch’s Trinity by Erika Mailman, Trauma by Patrick McGrath, Songs for the Missing by Stewart O’Nan, Aberrations by Penelope Przekop, The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson, and Sweetsmoke by David Fuller.

The best blogging experience I had personally revolved around Love is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield. I bought this book for my husband, but read it first. Little did either of us know that this would have a personal connection for my husband. He was friends with Rob’s wife Renee. We had a great time going through his pictures from that era and we posted one of Renee. It always irritates me when there is no pictures in memoirs because I want to know what the people look like. In this case, Danny was able to supply that for me. It was also really neat to listen to the tape of his band singing The Beverly Hillbillies theme song to the tune of R.E.M.’s Talk about the Passion. That whole experience was wonderful.

Best of all, I’ve met some of the most wonderful people last year. From authors, to publicists, to my fellow book bloggers, to my readers. I won’t name any because I don’t want to leave anyone out. My life is richer because of you all.

I hope that everyone has a beautiful, beautiful day!

BBAW: Toot your own horn!

Rebecca @ The Book Lady's Blog — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 12:51:28 +0000

As BBAW draws near to a close, our assignment today is to brag on ourselves by sharing some of our favorite posts. This isn’t as easy as it sounds, since my feelings about my posts change relatively frequently, but here’s what I’m loving today.

Here are a few of my favorite book review posts:

The Handmaid’s Tale

Love is a Mix Tape

Matrimony–BTW: I’ll be giving away a copy of this wonderful novel the week of September 29th.

Why We Hate Us

And I’d be remiss to leave out my spoilerific review of Breaking Dawn, which made me WordPress front page news for a couple days and made the rest of my blog stats look sad and lonely. Woo!

I also love love love my Adventures in Bookselling posts, which you can find here, here, here, and here, and which inspired the contest for my $25 gift card giveaway. Voting closes tonight, so check out the finalists and hit the voting booth.

Happy Thursday!

10 best books I've read in the last six months

ginavivinetto — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 02:52:32 +0000

No, these books are not all recent releases, but they floated my boat enough for me to want to recommend them to you:

1. Old Money by Wendy Wasserstein. A great and funny play about the gentrification of New York City over time. Wasserstein does an excellent job illustrating the effects that industrialization and its New Money had on NYC at both the turn of the 20th Century and that century’s zeitgeist.

2. The Cheating Culture: Why More Americans Are Doing Wrong to Get Ahead by David Callahan. Callahan makes a convincing argument that the decline of decency in corporate and individual behavior is rooted squarely in capitalism. The book is copyright 2004 and believe me, it shows. Former Governor of New York Elliot Spitzer is still a hero and not the buffoon (Client #9) who racked up tens of thousands of dollars of debt to a call girl.

3. Are You There Vodka, It’s Me, Chelsea? by Chelsea Handler. The rare television talk show host who shoots from the hip. Her “memoir” is sharp and funny and she’s not afraid to make herself unloveable.

4. Blue Angel by Francine Prose. A scary novel about a middle-aged creative writing professor who falls in love with his manipulative protege.

5. A People’s History of the United States 1492-Present by Howard Zinn. I know, it took me long enough. It was a joy to read a history book that’s devoid of idiotic mythology.

6. Hubert’s Freaks: The Rare-Book Dealer, the Times Square Talker, and the Lost Photos of Diane Arbus by Gregory Gibson. A great book of non-fiction about one man’s quest to solve a mystery about vintage books and old tymey New York freak shows.

7. Love Is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time by Rob Sheffield. A great book for music lovers who want to reminisce and have their hearts broken.

8. Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. A frighteningly dreamy look at a society that has traded chance for science. The characters in this book haunt me.

9. Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. A romantic and modern novel about love and sacrifice.

10. White Teeth by Zadie Smith. Another “academic novel” about an interracial relationship between a professor and his student that jeopardizes the structure of two families.

Now you give me your recommendations!

Sunday Salon: July Reading Wrap-Up

Rebecca @ The Book Lady's Blog — Sun, 03 Aug 2008 15:39:01 +0000

Okay, so we’re already a few days into August, but the end of July was crazy, and there was simply no time for a summary post. As the week drew to a close, plans and preparations for the midnight release party in celebration of Breaking Dawn kicked into high gear, and it also happened to be the week that my brother- and sister-in law moved here to Richmond with their three kids (yay for nieces & nephew right here in town!) to start a new chapter of their lives. Both events–the party and the move–went as smoothly as we hoped they would, and I didn’t mind too much that I my reading time had been pretty limited.

It’s hard to believe that I’ve only been blogging for a month. I’ve never really kept track of my reading before. I always had a decent idea of how much and how quickly I was reading, based on the rate at which the TBR pile depleted, but this is the first time I’ve tracked my reading and written reviews for everything I’ve read, so I’m quite pleased to discover that I read ten books in July. Woo! If not for pesky Breaking Dawn, I would have finished my current read, Months and Seasons, which is on hold while I plow through my final obligatory jaunt into the world of Stephenie Meyer.

So, here’s what I read this month. Click on the cover to read my review:

It’s difficult to pick favorites because I really enjoyed most of these selections. The Gargoyle, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, and The Lace Reader all left lasting impressions, but The Glass Castle and Love Is a Mix Tape were very pretty unforgettable as well. August is going to be a month heavy in ARCs, so I’m hoping it will be as good a month for reading as July is, but this is going to be a tough one to beat.

Now, before I return to Edward and Bella and their increasingly ridiculous plight (my apologies to all you Twilight fans–I just can’t handle it), a quick poll to help me decide whether or not I should post a review of Breaking Dawn when I finish it in the next couple days. Just click the response you choose:

Happy Sunday!

The Sunday Salon

Rebecca @ The Book Lady's Blog — Sun, 27 Jul 2008 15:38:27 +0000

Finally, a Sunday morning with no plans, no obligations, and nothing to do but sleep in, sit around in my jammies (which I will do for most of the day), and enjoy some quality snuggle time with my husband and the pooch. It seems like every weekend of the summer so far, we’ve either been out of town, had people visiting us in town, or had plans that kept us really busy.

It’s so nice to be able to slow down a bit, and this couldn’t have come at a better time, since the coming week is going to be crazy for me as I prepare for a back-to-school event at our store on Thursday night, the Breaking Dawn midnight release party on Friday night, and helping my brother- and sister-in-law move on Saturday. Whew! I’m getting tired just thinking about it.

Despite all that’s been going on, I’ve done some good reading this week. I learned all about the history of sex research and just how far Mary Roach will go for a good story in Bonk (read my review), and I took a musical trip down memory lane with Rob Sheffield, whose book Love Is a Mix Tape (review here) broke my heart and caused me to reflect on the music and relationships that are most important.

I’m almost finished with The Inheritance of Loss, and while the writing is quite beautiful, I’m having a hard time getting through the middle chunk of the book…but more to come on that later. Has anyone else read this? What did you think?

Top 10 Tape Tips by Rob Sheffield (Love is a Mix Tape)

mixwit — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 22:11:16 +0000

Rob Sheffield, author of Love is a Mix Tape, has created this list of Top 10 mix tips for The Independent on the best tips for arranging your mixtape:

1. Start with a Buddy Holly song. Every mix tape that starts with a Buddy Holly song gets a smile going 10 seconds after you press play.

2. Pick a song with the name of the person you’re making the tape for – depending on the name. All Marthas love The Beatles’ “Martha My Dear,” but all Beths hate Kiss’s “Beth” – and what Roxanne really wants to hear “Roxanne” again?

3. It’s useful to ponder what kind of mood you’re trying to create. If it’s an angry break-up tape, you must include the Buzzcocks’ “Ever Fallen in Love”. If it’s a sad break-up tape, you must include Frank Sinatra’s “The Night We Called It a Day”. If it’s a make-out tape, try Al Green’s “One of These Good Old Days”. If it’s a road-trip tape, you’re going to throw in The Clash’s “Janie Jones”, the music gods’ gift to automotive technology.

4.Twenty-minute avant-jazz freakouts? Some other time.

5. Try to put the Aretha Franklin song at the end of Side One – no matter who the next singer is, they’re going to sound sickly and timid trying to follow the Queen of Soul.

6. Mix it up stylistically. If you were in the mood to hear the same kind of music for 45 minutes at a time, you’d just put on an actual album.

7. Think of a different silly title for each side of the tape, such as Hall Side and Oates Side, or Pork Side and Beans Side.

8. Cut out scrapbook pictures of old movie stars and use them as a cover for the tape case. (I’m partial to Ava Gardner in The Hucksters.)

9. When in doubt, James Brown. You’re never not glad to hear him, especially after a few too many Elliott Smith and Jeff Buckley ballads.

10. If you’re a male, and you happen to be making this tape for a female in whom you have some sentimental or carnal interest, think twice about including Bob Dylan’s “Just Like a Woman” or AC/DC’s “Let Me Put My Love Into You”. Trust me on this one.

(via The Independent, UK)

#83 ~ Admit One

Literate Housewife — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 03:27:49 +0000

Admit One: A Journey into Film by Emmett James

When I was offered the opportunity to read this memoir, I was extremely excited. I’ve always loved movies and this love is something my husband and I share in common. Danny studied to work in film during college, where he worked very hard to create and direct his senior project. I believe that if my husband were to ever write a memoir it would be a combination of Admit One and Love is a Mix Tape (hopefully without the widower connection). Knowing that my husband and James shared a similar passion made this book a must read for me.

Admit One details the childhood and early acting career of Emmett James as framed by the films that have impacted his life. A different movie provides the backdrop of each of the 22 stories making up this book. From The Jungle Book to It’s a Wonderful Life, James shares his memories and what he learned about life in both Croydon, South London and Los Angeles, CA. If you are a film lover, you will appreciate that James writes about the way this medium can interweave with our lives and shape our perspective on what it means to live.

Reading this memoir brought back a lot of wonderful memories for me. I believe that almost everyone has tried to dig to China or Australia (or vice versa) during childhood. It was the first thing Emmett James did after seeing Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. At first his dig started out as an archaeological excursion in search of some Indy-worthy treasures. After coming up empty, he changed his motivation entirely and that made this chapter came alive for me. There is something about watching dramatic representations of other people that can drive both the young and old take on the characteristics of heroes or even glamorous villains if only in our imaginations. That is the true beauty and worth of film.

Unlike for the James family, a trip to the movie theater was an infrequent yet beloved treat in our household. It was a reward for a semester’s good grades, or more often an excuse for my father to see an adventure film. Being of a similar age to the author, my childhood was likewise shaped by E.T., the original Star Wars trilogy, The Karate Kid, The Wizard of Oz, and Ghostbusters. Although our backgrounds are extremely different, we could most certainly communicate clearly and concisely using the language of movies. Reliving my life through each of these films, among others, was the best part of reading this book.

Whereas film has brought a great deal of joy to the author’s life and ultimately brought him to Hollywood’s door, this memoir isn’t entirely happy. James’ relationship to his family is distant and even a little cold. In the same section where he is dreaming of uncovering precious artifacts, James reminisces about the last time his family went to a movie together. He wishes he could recapture that experience once again, but the rest of his story is about moving further and further away – first emotionally, and then physically. When he writes that “movies have always meant everything to [him],” I believe that they have become his family in a way that his flesh and blood family never did. I can’t help but feel saddened by that.

In addition to weaving film throughout his stories, I enjoyed this peek at what life was like for a young boy growing up in a working to middle class neighborhood in South London. Once James left England and became acclimated to Hollywood, I felt that the book started to lose its direction. While he did learn about himself and what he wanted out of life working on the set of Lap Dancing, I’m not it was deserving of an entire chapter. It could have been tightened up and combined with Honeymoon in Vegas. I was also surprised by what he chose to write about when discussing Titanic, I eagerly anticipated reading about being directed by James Cameron or acting opposite Kathy Bates. Instead, he describes both the poverty of Mexico and an odd and somewhat alarming experience with a cab driver. As a result, those chapters lack the cohesion I felt throughout the rest of the memoir.

At its heart, Admit One is a love letter to film. The author rightly points out that movies can have a powerful effect on viewers. They can serve as entertainment, promote wonder and imagination, educate, help us communicate with one another, and challenge us. In addition to being a lover of film, James has the added pleasure of being a working actor in Hollywood. It is his passion for his life’s work that made this book a reality, and I was not disappointed. If you ever wanted to ride your BMX through the sky or fight storm troopers with your very own light saber, this is the book for you.

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To buy this book, click here.

Indiana Jones and other things

meg2885 — Sun, 25 May 2008 20:09:19 +0000

Warning! Spoilers for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull follow! I have to say this

#68 ~ Love is a Mix Tape

Literate Housewife — Mon, 05 May 2008 02:59:57 +0000

Love Is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time by Rob Sheffield

I found out about this book from Pop Candy, my favorite pop culture blog written by Whitney Matheson. As soon as I found out what this memoir was about, I had to buy it.. It tells the story of a man’s life and, more specifically, his love life, through his mix tapes. Rob Sheffield sounded just like my husband to me. I bought it for Danny, but I knew that I would eventually read it myself. So, when I found myself without a book I had to read, I plucked this off of the bookshelf having no idea what type of impact it would have on me.

A little background…

I “met” my husband in 1995 on Dreamscape, an Internet talker that required users to enter commands to do or say anything to anyone else. At that time I was obsessed – there is no other word for it as much as I care to deny it – with Michael Stipe. As ZenLauda, I would go on and see how fast I could get everyone to say something – anything – about Stipe. Of course, if someone said something nasty, I excommunicated that person from my persona. One time I brought Stipe up and HoneyPoison said, “Stipe is unripe.” I nearly axed HP, but then I didn’t and I don’t know why. I’d banished others for less. This started a long conversation about R.E.M. and music in general (Danny was in a band called “Ancient Astronauts” in 1989) that continues on to this day. I fell in love with him at an R.E.M. concert in Greensboro in 1995 and I moved to southwest Virginia 8 months later. The rest is history.

The first thing I remember Danny giving me was a mix tape entitled 24 in honor of my 24th birthday. Most of the music on it was new to me and stuff that I still love today – Julian Cope’s “China Doll,” Died Pretty’s “D.C.,” and Miracle Legion’s “You’re The One Lee” were my favorites, but the rest was great. Reading this book made me very nostalgic for that tape. Sheffield’s descriptions of the time and energy he puts into his mixes rings true to this woman made to another mixer. You know that you mean something to a man or woman like that when they make you a mix tape. In fact, one of the first things Danny thought to do after meeting our oldest daughter’s birth mother was to make her a mix tape for when we saw her after Emma was born. Knowing all of what goes into a mix, it’s one of the saddest things ever when a person being gifted with a mix tape doesn’t understand the significance.

Back to the book…

Sheffield grew up in Boston in a world of his own where all outside stimuli filtered into him through music. He loved music like nothing and no one else. From school to Catholic summer camp he tried to impress his peers with his mix tapes or, when necessary, he escaped into them. It wasn’t until he was in college that he made himself break out of his shell. And it is in grad school at the University of Virginia that he met Renee Crist, an Appalachian girl who stole his heart from the very beginning.

When you live in southwest Virginia, it’s not every day that you pick up a book and it starts talking about places you’ve been or places you live. Renee was born in Georgia, but she grew up in Pulaski and attended Hollins College (now University) where I earned my Master’s degree. She lived in Roanoke for a time before heading to Charlottesville, where she met and feel in love with Rob. As he describes when he fell in love with her, the connection to Danny grew even stronger than I ever could have expected:

I squeezed into a booth next to her and we talked about music. She told me that you can sing the “Beverly Hillbillies” theme to the tune of R.E.M.’s “Talk about the Passion.” That was it, basically; as soon as she started to sing “Talk about the Clampetts,” any thought I had of not falling in love with her went down in some serious “Towering Inferno” flames. It was over. I was over.

While in Roanoke, Renee met Danny and hung around in the same circles with him. At one point, she was roommates with Claudia, the wife of Danny’s good friend from high school. While in Roanoke, Renee heard the Ancient Astronauts play “Talk about the Clampetts,” a song Danny, the lead singer, mashed up himself. Danny is responsible for Rob and Renee getting together and, therefore, responsible for this book being written!

Click here to listen to a live performance of “Talk about the Clampetts” performed by the Ancient Astronauts in 1989:

When we figured out that this book was about Renee Crist (at midnight on a work night – I didn’t end up getting much sleep), Danny went into his closet and pulled out his shoe box of pictures. In that box he found a picture of her with Jimm (with two Ms), the same person who was seeing when she moved to Charlottesville.

After seeing the picture of her at a New Year’s Eve party, this book came alive to me in a way I’ve never experienced before. Not only was it a reminder of the time when I first fell in love with my husband, my reading of Love is a Mix Tape became a couple’s project. It set us off on a mini archaeological dig of Danny’s musical past, and I’ve always wanted to be an archaeologist.

Reading Sheffield’s memoir made me feel very happy to be alive in a world of music and mix tapes. If you love music and have ever made a mix tape – even if you ever just taped songs off of the radio, you will enjoy this book.

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To buy this book, click here.

Without an ARC

Literate Housewife — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 02:55:30 +0000

For the past week it seems as though all it’s done is rain, and I’m without an ARC. Please don’t read that as a complaint, though. I have two on the way: Love Marriage by V.V. Ganeshananthan through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewers for April and Songs for the Missing by Stewart O’Nan through Barnes & Nobles’ First Look Book Club. Even if those books weren’t somewhere in the mail, I am still happy to be without an ARC. While I absolutely love getting to read free books (who wouldn’t), there is a special commitment made to read and review them in a timely manner. From the moment they arrive in the mail, they become my first in line to be read. Books I’ve actually purchased sit gathering dust on my bookshelf. So, right now, I feel pretty foot loose and fancy free – and my current choices are proving to be very interesting and very personal.

Love is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield – I bought this book at some point last year for my husband. At that time I bought the book, I knew nothing about the author. I had no idea that the author lived in Charlottesville around the same time as my husband. Last night, after midnight, Danny and I discovered that he knew Sheffield’s wife when she lived in Roanoke!!!! I won’t reveal any more here, because it will be repeated in my review. Suffice to say that I kept saying, “It’s a small f*#!ing world!” over and over again. I’m really excited to write my post about this memoir. It’s going to be a lot of fun!

Mistaken Identity: Two Families, One Survivor, Unwavering Hope by the Van Ryn and Cerak families. I remember when the story about this tragically deadly car accident hit the news. At the time, I must have registered that the Van Ryn family was from Grand Rapids, but I was surprised again to hear that familiar accent when I happened upon their interview on Dateline NBC at the end of March. The story was as beautiful as it was heart wrenching. This isn’t typically the type of book I would buy or read, but the hometown connection and the goodness of these people made it impossible for me not to buy.

So, I’m not fretting how long it’s taking Love Marriage to arrive. I’m basking in the glow of my own choices right now.

Book Review: Love is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield

Rebecca @ The Book Lady's Blog — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 23:17:29 +0000

When author Rob Sheffield met his wife Renee, they had nothing in common, except they both loved music. A certain song came on, and each noticed the other perk up to listen; and they were the only two people in that bar who were excited to hear the song. Boy meets girl. Boy and girl talk about music. Boy offers to make girl a mix tape. And so it begins.

Love Is a Mix Tape is part memoir, part music history, and part love letter from a heartsick man to his late wife. Throughout their courtship and marriage (which was only five years and ten months), Rob and Renee made mix tapes for all occasions–driving, doing the dishes, falling asleep, hanging out at home on a Sunday afternoon–and it was their secret language. Each chapter of the book is structured around a particular mix tape, as Sheffield reminisces about the music that brought them together and provided the soundtrack for their relationship. As he listens to the tapes later on, years after Renee’s unexpected death (she had a pulmonary embolism and died at home in his arms), he writes,

Tonight, I feel like my whole body is made out of memories. I’m a mix tape, a cassette that’s been rewound so many times you can hear the fingerprints smudged on the tape…I count on the music to bring me back–or, more precisely, to bring her forward.

Sheffield’s love for his wife and his struggle to accept a future without her are powerfully palpable and ever-present. His grasp of the ways in which love and music change us and shape our lives is quite beautiful, and though you feel Sheffield’s sorrow and sadness, you also feel the joy and comfort and sense of place and permanence he has found in music. If you took the perfection that is Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking and replaced all of the place memories with music memories, you’d get Love Is a Mix Tape.

Writing about one of those wonderful falling-in-love moments, Sheffield says

There is nowhere else I could imagine wanting to be besides here in this car, with this girl, on this road, listening to this song. If she breaks my heart, no matter what hell she puts me through, I can say it was worth it, just because of right now. Out the window is a blur and all I can really hear is this girl’s hair flapping in the wind, and maybe if we drive fast enough the universe will lose track of us and forget to stick us somewhere else.

When I read that, I thought, “Yes! Me too! I know how that feels.” It brought to mind Stephen Chobsky’s description of feeling “infinite” in The Perks of Being a Wallflower. We should all get to experience such wonderful moments of solitude with the ones we love, and we should all be so lucky as to have a soundtrack as great as Rob and Renee’s mix tapes.

It’s virtually impossible not to be affected by this book. Sheffield’s writing caused me to reflect on the music that has shaped my life, and it made me think about the songs that have already formed a memorable soundtrack to my relationship with my husband. This is a great book for anyone who loves music, knows someone who loves music, or has ever been in love. If you’ve never been in love (poor you!), it will make you want to be. It made me more grateful for my husband and the life we’re fortunate to share with each other, and it made me hope that, if something did happen to me, he’d be able to hold onto the music and the memories and remember me with such passionate tenderness. This book is happy and sad and beautiful and awful, and I think just about everyone could enjoy it. 5 out of 5.