Parenthetically Yours

Help-Portrait.com

Jeremy Cowart is a friend of mine who over the past six or seven years has become one of the most sought-after photographers, not just in Nashville, but across the country. His eye for detail and composition combined with his seemingly magic lighting and post wizardry create a signature style that's being copied by literally hundreds of photographers, amateur and professional alike. 

But. What's great about Jeremy is that he's a genuinely humble and all-around good guy. He'll be the first to tell you that he doesn't know what he's doing, but that he stumbles upon great shots. We're not fooled. He absolutely knows what he's doing, but he does chalk up some of his better photos to providence and happy-accidents. 

This fall leading into the holiday season, Jeremy is initiating what he hopes will become a movement. If there are any creative types who read this, consider joining at www.help-portrait.com.

I won't try to explain it, but rather will let Jeremy do the explaining himself.

(rw) 

Favorite Things Friday

This has been an unusually difficult past few weeks for many friends of ours--deaths, tragedies, job losses, etc--so today I'm just going to lighten the mood for everyone. 

If you are/were a fan of Napoleon Dynamite and Nacho Libre (and really, who wasn't?), then you'll be excited to know about this upcoming movie called Gentlemen Broncos. It was written and directed by Jared Hess, the writer/director of those two movies. Plus, it stars Jemaine Clement, the better half (in my opinion) of Flight of the Conchords. If you're into ridiculous parodies of ridiculous self-help gurus, then check out Clement's character, Dr. Ronald Chevalier's own website. 

If you can make it through the 30 commercial, the trailer follows immediately:

I'm going to get in line now for tickets. Unfortunately, there's no release date set...yet.

Have a great weekend...next week: Regular blog posts resume! 

(rw)

Favorite Things Friday

So, let's see. It's been a month. I honestly never meant to go this long without writing. But, alas, no one is paying me to do this so you can all get over it. All ten of you out there. See? You're already over it.

There has to be a great spiritual metaphor in here somewhere about best intentions vs. quantifiable actions...but today isn't the day for that.  It's Friday (again) and it's time to kick the weekend off right. Or left.

AMOS LEE

I realize that Mr. Lee is not new news, but here in the Williams house, Katie has inexplicably become obsessed with his song, "Arms of a Woman." I've always been impressed with his voice, but I always filed him away as the male Norah Jones. Plus, who knows how someone actually sings anymore with all the computer-aided correction that happens on 99% of records made these days. I hate to burst your bubble, but Taylor Swift can't sing very well. She can write a good song and wear a dress well...but sing? Not on your life. So, when Katie and I discovered these homemade videos on YouTube, we were transfixed. The guy has deep soul. 

The first video is laid back, like the recording, but delicate. The second video is the same song, but greasy and with attitude--a totally different vibe, but similarly mesmerizing. Notice how his notes are effortless, coming from somewhere other than simply breath and vocal chords, beyond thought. His talent is a genuine, real gift that only comes along every so often and, unfortunately, rarely shows up on pop charts. Think Stevie Wonder, Alecia Keys, Al Green, Jeff Buckley, and Merle Haggard. Old soul, brewing up from hidden places. They all have (had) it. So does Amos Lee.

SURPRISE WEDDING ENTRANCES 

I love this kind of stuff. Try not to enjoy it. Try not to actually feel like those in attendence. Go on. Try. 

MOVING

Ok. That one is sort of a joke. I don't like moving. We're moving this week from our cute downtown cottage to a nicer, newer condo a mile away. Yes, we're leaving the creaky old house (and requisite spiders and poor insulation) for new digs. I love the process of going through our stuff and throwing and giving away things that take up space. It's incredibly therapeutic to simplify and streamline your possessions. Anybody want 10 years of old SPIN magazines?

PUNS

If you know me, you know I love puns. This morning I asked Katie what would happen if such-and-such happened. She said, "I'd have a cow." I said, "Don't do that because then our first child would be a cow." With zero delay she said, "But we could name her Moo-lissa." AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. 

Yessssss! 

(rw)

You Had to be There

There are some things that you just “had to be there” for. The retelling doesn’t do it justice. That’s because the retelling can never satisfy the details necessary to explain why something was so funny, or epic, or sad.

For instance, all the words I could muster up could never clearly explain why it was so funny last night that my friend Lee choked on rice while laughing at Katie as she successfully guarded her tongue after burning herself and dropping a pan of brownies. You'd have to know that Lee also choked on a noodle a few months ago while sitting at the same dinner table. You'd also need to know that he'd just hit his funny bone so hard it put him in the floor with a numb arm. Epic, funny stuff. 

Also,if you happened to be at this year’s Gospel Music Association’s Dove Awards, you know that if you weren't there, you wouldn’t have been able to understand just how poignant and brutal Steven Curtis Chapman’s performance of “Cinderella” was. For those who don’t know, "Cinderella" is SCC’s song written for and about his adopted daughter Maria, who tragically died several months after the release of the song. 

If you were there in the audience, though, you would’ve known that during a commercial break, singer Donnie McClurkin came onto the stage, got our attention, and made an announcement that Aaron and Amanda Crabb were rushing to the emergency room because their two year old daughter had just fallen from a window and that it didn’t look good. We in the audience were shell-shocked. We prayed, we whispered, we prayed a again for little Eva. Then I noticed that the stagehands were setting up Steven’s band. I recognized his son Caleb tuning his guitar. There was his other son Will adjusting his drumset. Will is the son who was driving the vehicle that Maria ran in front of that fateful afternoon. I thought, “Surely he’s not about to come out and sing that song.” Sure enough. He did.

We were stunned and silent. Honestly, it was too much. Not a dry eye. In spirit, we were in two places at once: on the stage with him and in that ambulance headed to the hospital with the Crabb family. When it was over, we stood for well over a minute with a mixture of tears and applause. It was the defining moment of a show that was, quite frankly, void of meaning. But in that moment, the Dove Awards show was transcendent, and ironically, sacred. It took on a depth and weight that is never present or expected at awards shows. Even tributes and memorials come off feeling put-on and manufactured. But you couldn’t have manufactured this moment, which is precisely what made it bigger than the sum of its parts.

And that’s the miracle of Providence.

But you had to be there.

(rw)

Favorite Things Friday - Northwest Edition - Pt 2

Well...this is gonna be a quickie, but I wanted to get something up before I'm detained by the Canadian authorities. Ok. That's a joke. I'm sitting at a coffee shop in Seattle waiting to leave for Vancouver, British Columbia to do a show there tonight...so let's jump in.

TULLY'S COFFEE - There's a running joke in Seattle that if you want to find a Tully's, go to a Starbucks and turn around. This is my favorite chain coffee in Seattle, beating Starbucks' burnt bean juice by a mile. I'm enjoying a piping hot Red Eye (coffee with an added shot of espresso) and there's nary a hint of bitterness. Mmmmmm.

VANCOUVER, BC - If you're dying to go to Europe but don't want to bother with all the travel expense, hassle, and language issues, you have to visit Canada. I know, I know. Canada evokes images of snow, bad fashion, Bob and Doug McKenzie, and progressive rock music. Well, at least it does for me. But...three of the most amazing cities in the world are up here in the great white North: Vancouver, Montreal, and Toronto. But for my money, Vancouver is where it's at. I really wish I had more time to dedicate to this paragraph, but just take my word for it. Good memories in Vancouver.

THIS VIDEO - Ok, this has nothing to do with the Pacific Northwest, but it's awesome. Below is an excerpt of a hilarious interview on Conan with the comedien Louis CK. I saw this the night it aired and loved every word of this interview. I finally found it on NBC.com (an amazing site). By the way, if you get irritated by the 12 second Lowe's commercial at the beginning of this, you may be one of the people Louis is talking about. Just a thought. 

Ok...the weekend is your. Do something great or hilarious with it.

(rw)

Favorite Things Friday - Good Friday Edition

In honor of Good Friday, this week's edition of Favorite Things Friday will all be Easter/Resurrection themed. Well, except one, but we'll get to that in a bit.

CARNEY "Resurrection"  There's a undiscovered genius in Los Angeles named Reeve Carney. He and his brother Zane (a ridiculous guitarist) have a bandly aptly named Carney. I happened to catch one of their famed shows at L.A. Molly Malone's on Melrose Ave a few years back and was shell-shocked and speechless...and that's putting it mildly. It was kind of a big deal. What's even better is that they're all sold-out, crazy Christians. They're making unbelievably passionate and genius art that is dripping with the Gospel, but it sounds NOTHING like what you would hear on Christian radio stations. Thankfully. Fall in love with Carney. Please. In keeping with this week's theme, here's a video of them performing their song "Resurrection." Be forwarned, it's an epic 9 minute musical free-for-all. The editing is lame and the audio is even worse. But the tag of the chorus is "It don't mean a thing without the Resurrection." The band has other better-produced videos available to watch, but search out my personal favorite "Think of You."

THIS COMMERCIAL FROM THE 80s:

 

TO BE ANNOUNCED  Ok, so this is not Resurrection themed, but it's a favorite thing this week. I'm out on a tour right now and the opening band, Addison Road, had to bail on the tour because the singer had a baby last week. We've had a few bands substitute and fill in the opening slot but tomorrow we don't have anyone to fill in. To cure this, several guys in the crew formed their own band called To Be Announced and they're opening the show. It may not sound very interesting to you guys, but it is AWESOME! These are the guys who work the hardest (first up, last to bed) and get none of the attention. A couple of guys have even made a fake documentary about this. None of what you see and hear in the documentary is true, except that they really are playing tomorrow to open the show. I give you, TO BE ANNOUNCED!!

It don't mean a thing without the Resurrection

(rw)

Where Do You People Find the Time?

I meet with a group of guys every Tuesday morning for breakfast, coffee, and a little spiritual/creative/career inspiration. It’s never too heavy and is one of my favorite appointments on my calendar. Good guys. Funny guys. There’s only one issue: I can’t keep up with them.

Every last one of these guys blog, they Twitter, they’re on Facebook and/or Myspace, and they run marathons and triathalons, or race motorcycles (or all three). On top of all that, they have jobs that require travel, meetings—and occasionally—work.

[Editor’s note: if you’re over 35 and aren’t familiar with Twitter, think of it as mini-blogs (140 characters or less) that are sent and received in a variety of ways, but primarily via one’s Twitter home page and/or text messages.]

I just can’t figure out where they find the time. I blog and I Twitter, but trying to come up with something witty and wonderful to say every day is like getting blood from a turnip. Twitter is a little easier, given the smaller word count, but trying to keep up with everyone else’s messages (twits) is too exhausting and having Twits directed to my phone is totally annoying. Who wants their phone blowing up all day with inane comments like "going to the gym to run a million miles. Still sore from all those push-ups yesterday." 

I’m sure Twitter (like every other social networking flavor-of-the-month) is supposed to make me feel like I’m part of a bigger, more inclusive, global society—but honestly, it just makes me feel like I’m either not working out enough, not living as glamorous as others, or that I'm missing out on everything.

But I’m NOT missing out on anything…that’s why I don’t like being told that what someone else did last night was the one event NOT TO BE MISSED. For example, last night I assisted chef Katie in the kitchen (we grilled fish and veggies and baked about four dozen homemade cookies), watched American Idol, helped her with some sorting for work, and scanned through some things on the DVR. By most anyone’s estimation, that was a good night. A great night, even. By a simple review of last night’s messages, though, it turns out I missed Ben Folds’ hometown show, the jam-packed, epic debut of The Civil Wars (another friend’s band), some sort of game night I wasn’t invited to, a friend’s appearance on FOX news, and a general invite to dinner with a big group of friends.

So now I’m oscillating between Eyeore (sigh…I wish I was cool) and smug (you all just wish you were married to such a cool girl). Neither place is a happy place.

And while I’m ranting, let’s be honest for a sec. Twitter is supposed to make us all feel connected, right? But really, so many of those I’m “following” just use it as a forum for inside jokes and @namedropping. Yeah, yeah…I know you’re friends with Tina Fey. I’m sure you’re really close.

UNPLUG America! Read a book. Watch a movie.

I know I’m going to. First, though, I’m going to send @StephenColbert this hilarious photo I took of me and @TinaFey imitating a donkey and an elephant. It wouldn’t make sense to you, but he’ll totally crack up. I need to call him back as soon as I get back from my mid-morning workout. 

(rw)

Big Picture from the window seat

It’s easy to get caught up in my own superficial issues and personal drama. I mean, it’s happening to me, right? So how am I not supposed to get caught up in it? I can be like a fish in a net, fighting a losing battle. But the drama isn’t the net. The net is me. I get caught up in me. All it is is self-centeredness. If you put you at the center of everything, then everything becomes about you. Even other’s issues or struggles become about how they’re affecting you. It’s a common problem that we have because we’re human beings.

I’ve always heard that the best way to get over yourself is to serve someone else. Whether it’s a spouse, a friend, a relative, a homeless guy…whatever. Just go do something for someone other than yourself. It really does work, at least for a little while. Definitely worth the time.

Me? I take a flight.

My dad worked for Texas International Airlines (which became Continental Airlines) when I was growing up so I was flying at an early age. I loved the window seat then, and I love the window seat now. Sure, it makes it difficult getting up if I need a restroom break, but the pros outweigh the cons. See, I’m kind of a Big Picture person. Ask Katie about this, who is a details person. I may not remember word for word the conversation, but I have a general idea about what we were talking about. It can be annoying, to say the least. Again, ask Katie about this.  Here’s an example:

Did you hear so-and-so is having a baby?

No way! When did they find out?

Uhm…

Well, do they know what they’re having?

I, uh…

When are they due?

I think they, uh…(I’m still thinking about the first question)

Randy! Did you ask them anything?

They, uh…she’s, um, having a baby…? I think?

So, being a Big Picture person, it always serves me well to take a flight. I remember taking a flight at some point in high school (who knows when or why I was flying? Remember, Big Picture.) and having an epiphany-type moment. As the cars and houses became smaller and smaller immediately after takeoff, I remember having a sudden realization that inside every single car, and inside every single house were actual people dealing with life that day. There was hurt, joy, apathy, success, distress, boredom, genius, secrets, and on and on. This overwhelmed me and it’s all I could think about for hours.

Since then, I can’t get in a plane without thinking about it and it spills over into everyday life when I’m in traffic or standing on a stage looking at hundreds of faces staring back at me. I’m constantly reminded of that Big Picture epiphany I had in that window seat all those years ago. We’re ALL going through it. Fill in the blank. Everybody hurts. Or laughs. It’s overwhelming, but hopefully it makes me a little more understanding. A pinch more compassionate.

Now, don’t get me wrong. More than I’d like to admit, I’m a thoughtless, self-consumed cliché of a jerk. But every so often, the revelation will unfold and remind me that I’m not actually the center of the universe.

(rw)

Favorite Things Friday - Northwest Edition

Today's Favorites come from the most beautiful part of these United States, the Pacific Northwest. I'm in all of my favorite cities this week (Seattle, Portland, and San Francisco), so it's only fitting to trump up these towns. If you're into the best culture and coffee the US has to offer, you have to come up this way at least once in your life. 

WEIRD PEOPLE - The strangest and oddest people live up here. I think it's because they didn't really fit in anywhere else, so they made their way west and when they went as far as they could without falling into the ocean, they called it a day. There also seems to be an abundance of homeless people in these cities. I don't know about you, but if I were a homeless person, I'd figure out some way to get to the NW and settle down. It's gorgeous, really liberal (lots of handouts), great bookstores (see below), with lots of free things available to the public. Make your way over to the grungy artist/musician parts of town and you'll feel that you stepped back in time, as if you just walked into a metal/goth/grunge documentary circa 1991 (completely void of hairspray). Do you like to people watch? Your eyes will be full all day in any of these cities. 

 

POWELL'S BOOKS - I have a fascination with bookstores. I'm not sure why, but somewhere in college I developed a slight obsession with them. When I'm away from home, my favorite way to pass the time is to sit in a bookstore (preferably an independent one, but I'm not picky) for a few hours reading the most random assortment of books and magazines. My favorite bookstore in all of America (and I've been to more than a few) is the crown jewel of Portland. Spanning an entire city block, Powell's is the largest independent bookstore in the world. Plus, let's say you'd like to own Jack Kerouac's personal copy of The Collected Poems of John Keats (and you have an extra $11,000), they have it in their rare books room. I've spent literal hours in this place and feel like I've only scratched the surface. 

QUEEN ANNE DISTRICT - In Seattle, most visitors head straight to Pike Place Market to see the guys throw fish, or buy fresh produce and flowers, or get a glimpse of the very first Starbucks. Or they head to Capital Hill for some funky food and people watching. Nothing wrong with any of that, but for my money (or lack thereof), I like the Queen Anne district. It's more of a neighborhood and not really a tourist destination, although it's dangerously close to the Key Arena and Space Needle, so I'm sure there are plenty of vacationers who happen to make a wrong turn, as I did when I first found this spot. Many of the condos and apartments here were originally hotels built for the 1962 World's Fair (which unveiled the Space Needle). Most have been updated, but they still have some of that retro-modern feel. My favorite places here are Caffe Ladro (best coffee in Seattle, period) and Easy Street Records, a great indie music store that has an unbelievable selection of foreign music magazines and pretentious alt-literature (which I secretly love). Hours of geeky fun on these streets.

Enjoy the weekend.

(rw)

Creative Hibernation

It’s amazing how much I can care about something yet do literally nothing to actually care for it.

I love this blog. It’s a source of pride for me (the good kind) and I truly enjoy it. Then why have I not been able to get my fingers a-movin’ across the keyboard lately? Many theories abound, much like a conspiracy nut internet forum, but I’ve yet to nail down why I haven’t been able to come up with (what I believe to be) an original thought since mid-December. Maybe it’s the recession. Maybe it’s the temperature. Maybe it’s decaf.

Whatever it is, it shut me down. And shut me up. 

It seems to be letting up, though, and I’m feeling the juices beginning to trickle again—like the first unfrozen drops of water from an icicle hanging on the corner of a house that doesn’t get sunlight. Here comes the sun. It’s alright.

I think I’ve been sleeping a little better too. I’ve definitely been sleeping harder (more on that next week) and I’ve been waking up with that unmistakable crush of a heroin hangover. You know what I’m talking about, right? You don’t? Well…I don’t either. But honestly, how can I sleep ten hours, wake up, and not want to do anything else but sleep ten more hours? It had to be the jetlag.

Jetlag? Oh. Did I tell you I went to Hawaii last week? I didn’t? Here’s proof:

It was good, it was fun, it was tornadic. I think the wind blew a constant 40 mph the entire time we were there. Don’t get me wrong: it was amazing, refreshing, all that (and more). But don’t get the whole Randy-in-a-grass-skirt-on-a-surfboard image in your head. The waves were out of control and I usually only wore the grass skirt in my hotel room.

(rw)