Magic Jewball

This could be my longest pictureless post. I’ll have to break it into two.

Geographically
I’ve worked at my company for 13 years total, ten at this building. Right now, they’re redoing my station at 59th St./Columbus Circle and I’ve watched it progress on a daily basis for a few years now. After next week, the next time I see it, it’ll probably be done. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but I doubt I’ll be down too often. Still, it is a decent thing to be able to say that you know where every exit at the station leads (and there are plenty of them) and which is the best entrance to get to any particular train. Yesterday, I stood in the spot I have stood every day for ten years waiting for the 1 train and thought about how weird it is to do something so often and then never again. It would be like never brushing your teeth or never eating breakfast again.

My corridor has always been Broadway from 59th to the 90’s where I live. I often walk it home and I have for ten years, so I know all the stores and have mentioned them here from time to time. Grom and Beard Papa, Gracious Home and Fairway, and lots more. Now, they will be destinations, not places I stop on the way to somewhere. My corridor will now be the 90’s to 120th, where TC is. It’s a shorter distance but I don’t think I’ll be able to afford the unlimited Metrocard anymore, so I’ll be walking it a lot.

When I was growing up, my Mom worked just a few blocks from where I work now. But when I was a kid, the Time Warner Center was the Coliseum and the Duane Reade across from it was a vegetarian Chinese restaurant called Vegetarian Heaven where my Mom used to take me to eat. The menu baffled me; it had like 90 things all made from wheat gluten. I have an aversion to that Duane Reade, I don’t really like that it exists. Also, near her building was a religious Jewish jeweler where my mother would get jewelry repaired and watch batteries replaced. I still do. One day I saw his storefront was empty and I felt terribly sad. I had to get my watch battery at a new jeweler a couple of blocks away. But when I went in, I saw it was him! I wanted to hug him. I’m pretty sure I’ll still go there; how often do you need a new battery? My mother and I never overlapped at this location, though, as she left that job before I started here.

People
I work with the brother of a fairly famous soul singer. He’s our assistant and is such a character that he should have his own reality show. Pretty much every little thing that comes out of his mouth is hysterically funny. He and I come from as different backgrounds as you can imagine (he’s the son of a preacher from the deep South) but we get along like peas and carrots. I think he will miss me too and he expresses this by being mock indignant that I’m leaving. He will say, “Becca, how you gonna play me like this?” He is a giant attention seeker and will stand in front of my office dancing for God knows how long until I look up. The other week, a stark-white emo band came down the hallway and their chirpy product manager called right and left, “hey, everyone, this is [name redacted]!” Our assistant called out, “hey, [name redacted], what’s PIMPIN’?” Somehow, I don’t think anyone’s going to ask what’s pimpin’ at TC.

When you have worked somewhere for a while, you sometimes get tired of having to say “good morning” and “how was your weekend” to thirty people. It feels meaningless. But I really like most people I work with and I like greeting and being greeted by everyone. Although I think I will enjoy not working (well, I may get a part-time job), I will really miss this camaraderie. Some days I laugh so hard that I have to bend and clutch myself.

Last week, what I called our “party of interns” left. We seriously had five college interns for the Summer because a couple of people in the department said OK to every neighbor and friend they had who asked, “hey, can my kid intern there for the Summer?” At first I resented this, but I kind of fell in love with them and now they’re all my Facebook friends. I miss them already. But what I realized was, I like teenagers and college students. I like teaching them and I like how they’re not so sure of themselves but are eager to learn. Maybe it was just our interns, but I could see working with kids like that in the future. This morning, I passed the one intern we have left in the lobby as I was walking in and he was walking out (to Starbucks, evidently) and he said, “boss is paying; your usual?” Oh hells, will I miss that.

One of our interns was Canadian and had the thickest Canuck accent, so much so that I sometimes thought he was acting. He liked the niche of being “the Canadian guy” and took it in stride when our Brooklyn intern constantly said things like, “so do they have _____ in Canada?” I called him Gordie all Summer, and also sometimes Timmie. I told this story on Twitter, but his brother came down from Toronto to visit one weekend but missed his flight because there was no Tim Horton’s in the security zone and he had to get donuts. What I loved was hearing Gordie on his cell phone reprimanding his wayward brother. “But why didn’t you get Timmie’s before the airport?” and “Didn’t you hear them calling your flight? Yes, I know it was Timmie’s.” On Gordie’s birthday, I walked down to a newly opened Tim Horton’s and got a dozen donuts. We stuck a candle in the blueberry bloom donut; it’s pretty dense.

There is something about the music industry that has a hold on people, even when they know better. They know it’s an often thankless job and they know it has no future, but there’s nothing like it in the world. I expected people to think it was nuts that I was leaving but I get lots of “I’m so jealous!” and “I think about that all the time” and “PROPS!” It makes me sad. Once upon a time, it was a job everyone wanted. On the other hand, people could leave if they really wanted. Most are single and/or childless. I think it just grabs you and doesn’t let go, no matter what your head tells you.

It’s weird to be a lame duck but weirder to not be treated as one. People still ask me lots of stuff like, “this song is listed wrong in Billboard, can you get that fixed?” Sure I can, but after next week you’re on your own. I haven’t packed anything up, I guess that’ll be next week, but I’ve already started throwing things out. You know that stuff you keep in a pile because it might come in handy someday or because someone might ask you a question about it? I finally have hit the day where I know I don’t need it! It’s liberating, really. So much stuff no longer matters. I still carefully file things on my computer by artist, though. It’s a hard habit to break. It’s hard not to think that things will fall apart after I leave. I veer between caring about this and knowing that it’s not really my problem.

Speaking of Facebook, I never friended people at work. I had a strict policy because if I said yes to someone, I had no excuse for anyone else. And I never wanted Worlds of Becca to collide. I love a lot of those people but I didn’t need them knowing all the stuff I put out there. Now that I’m leaving, I’m conversely very happy to have Facebook as a means to keep in touch. I think one of the game-changing elements of Facebook is actually keeping a relationship with people you used to have a daily life with but then no longer speak to. Unless you’re really close, you’ll e-mail a couple of times a year and then never again and wonder whatever happened to that person. With FB, you actually can have a regular, detailed connection.

I mentioned a few posts ago that I have Google Voice. They just had a free deal where you could get 25 business cards with your number in colorful graphics and your name, address, and e-mail below. I’m happy to have these now; I’ll be handing them out at work.

Money
I’ve never been really loaded but I was comfortable, at least the last couple of years and because I’m frugal, even before that. Now, I have to contemplate going back to a world where an $8 take-out dinner is something I need to skip. I had my injury from MSG looked at this week and it turned out my doctor’s x-ray machine wasn’t covered by my insurance. My doctor offered to charge me the Medicare rate of $50 (I’m a patient of almost twenty years). I had to say no. I think that’s something you give up a lot: convenience. A walk instead of a subway ride, whole carrots instead of pre-cut vegetables, seeing another doctor so you can save $50 on an x-ray. I also am giving up fancy food. Like I’m back to high fructose corn syrup. What can I say, it’s cheap. I also bought the store brand honey this week instead of “blueberry honey from Vermont.”

When I went to get my x-ray, I handed over my insurance card. It felt strange in that in a week, it will be useless. I have good insurance and it’s worrying to give it up. Columbia has a decent plan but not as good so I’m a little freaked out. On the other hand, they have an urgent care center with an x-ray machine and I get to use it for nothing. That’s something.

I’m a planner and I have an Excel spreadsheet with my finances mapped out to a minute degree. I have for ten years, ever since I got my finances in order and paid off my credit card bills. If you knew me in the 90’s or before, you will be kind of shocked at how I turned myself around. I was one of those people who just threw everything on a credit card like it was a big pile of dirty laundry and it didn’t matter too much if more got mixed in. It was 20 or 25k at its peak. It started in college, as with many people, where I had little money (I made about $25 a week and my parents funded my tuition, rent, and meal plan only). I got into a lot of trouble with the attitude that one day I’d have a real job and could pay it all off. Somehow, my balance always grew commensurately larger.

But that’s the past. I had a large expense in ’99 and drew up this spreadsheet to get things in order. Within a couple of years I had paid it off. I still keep my budget spreadsheet religiously and the top thing on each tab is my paychecks. Not getting any paycheck is going to be freaky weird, and scary to me beyond reason. Again, I hope to get some part-time work, but it shakes me to my core to not have that security.

I may have mentioned, I plan to sell rugelach and maybe other baked goods on Etsy. The hold up at the moment is designing the logo and banner. I used to have a graphic designer in my life, not so much anymore, so I’ve hired one and we’re going back and forth. It also took me months to come up with a name as I wanted one unconnected with this blog. I have no idea how much money this will bring in, but even if it’s just a little, I’ll be happy doing something I like. As a planner, though, it’s hard to have so many variables.

School
If you have no kids, back-to-school time means little to you. Now, suddenly, I’m back to caring. Everyone seems to have a back-to-school sale, even places that don’t really have any products that fit the bill. Or, maybe it’s just that anything can be good for school. Take drugstore.com. I hadn’t realized it but I may need extra cotton balls for school. Of course, the biggest engine of back-to-school is clothes and school supplies. When I was in grade school and high school, I shopped for new clothes because last year’s didn’t fit me. These days, the fact that I’m going to school means that I can’t afford new clothes. It’s sadly ironic.

In terms of school supplies, our “what’s pimpin'” assistant has carefully hoarded things for me. So I have some spare notebooks and pens and paper clips. It’s been a long time, but I don’t think I’ll need much more. I got a day planner when I visited Hopkins and it has a week at a time view and stickers for things like exams and papers due. I’m weirdly excited by it. It may seem odd for a person who has a phone number from Google and is doing a tech degree, but I am a total Luddite when it comes to calendars. At work I have a Day-Timer and at school I will have my planner with the Johns Hopkins logo to remind me of what life felt like when I was drowning academically, no doubt.

I picked classes this week and on the TC site you can see who is also registered. Some people are in two or three of my classes. I just know we’ll be BFF’s! Another thing that’s changed (and for the better, lemme tell you) is that now you can get cheap textbooks in lots of places. One place will even rent them to you. So I keep going back to look if they’ve posted books so I can start shopping. I worry I won’t know until the class begins and then I’ll be forced to spend $250 on Fun With Java so I don’t fall behind. On the Columbia site you can also upload your own photo for your ID card. I find that odd. How do they know that’s me? I have this thought of sending Niece3 who is a brilliant computer whiz at 17 and having her get the degree for me. She loves this idea. We’ve also hatched a plot where I go to HS instead of her and take her classes. If you are a Hollywood studio interested in this idea, call me! Ironically, I ended up uploading a headshot that was taken for my last promotion at work.

Between work and school I left one week (it’s actually more like ten days with the weekends and the Tuesday orientation) for a “decompression vacation.” I didn’t really know whether to plan it or leave it free so at the moment it’s sort of a combination. I have a lunch with a dear old friend who will be in town, the Nine Inch Nails concert with KP, and several days of possible tennis. The Qualifying round at the US Open is free so I can go any day I feel like it. Not only can I not really afford the real US Open this year, but school starts on the third day so it’s really out. David Nalbandian is also unable to attend this year, so at least I won’t miss him. At first I was devastated to miss the highlight of my year but as time has passed and classes have been chosen and my focus slowly shifts from sales programs to programming, it feels OK. Back-to-school is an exciting time! I know because the K-Mart e-mail blast told me so.

One week from today, I’ll walk into and out of my job, building, and industry for the last time.

Although the first line of this is “waiting at the station,” I really chose it because this is the mood I was in when I wrote this post. I even included a YouTube link for those who aren’t signed up with Napster.
The Devlins – Waiting

YouTube audio only

Oh look, Jew & A! Maybe you vaguely remember this concept. Anyway, I received two questions, one last week and one this week. Let’s start with last week’s. One should not assume that we’ll have to wait till next week for this week’s but stranger things have happened.

Dear MJB,

Deas

Dear Deas,

This is an interesting question because it pits two big principles of Judaism against each other. Two principles enter! One principle leaves! Or something, I don’t really watch that show. And of course, since this is Judaism, there are varied interpretations of which principle trumps the other. Let’s start with our contestants, shall we?

#1 is 25, likes moonlight walks, and is looking for a man to understand her.

Wait, let’s start again.

#1 is called “nivul hamet” or “insult to the dead.” A dead person should be shown great respect, and we would never want to embarrass or dishonor him or her. For example, he or she is never left alone all the way until burial; there is always a living person sitting with the body. This may sound creepy but is an important mitzvah (commandment). If it is your loved one, it can even be comforting. Also part of this rule is making sure that all parts of the body are buried, this honors the person by making sure their remains are not unnecessarily mutilated. Similarly, the body is purified, prayers are said, and he or she is buried right away, usually within 24 hours.

#2 is called “pikuach nefesh” or “saving a life.” This is really the overarching principle of Judaism and almost nothing nullifies the obligation. For instance, if driving on the Sabbath, usually forbidden, could get someone to the hospital to get treatment for a life-threatening condition, it is permitted, and actually required.

You can probably see where I’m going here. But let’s start with a different question. My, I love questions! So, is an autopsy permitted? Cutting open a dead person is certainly a disrespect; have you never seen Fast Times at Ridgemont High? The answer is, sometimes. A routine autopsy is not permitted but one that would establish a cause of death that might help someone else live is OK. But an organ transplant is always done to heal a living person and therefore, most authorities would say it is not only all right, but should be encouraged.

Now, as with all things Jewish, it depends on who you’re asking. You, of course, are asking me and I would tell you that everyone should sign up to donate their organs and perpetuate life. But some Hassidic and other groups within Judaism argue that #1 is just as important and a dead person must be buried whole. Therefore, autopsies and organ harvesting are never allowed, according to them. Does your acquaintance typically wear long skirts, long sleeves, and a wig? If not, the cemetery she’ll most likely be buried in will gladly accept her and her money. I mean, her and her body.

Not to mention, there’s always a lot of talk about Jewish cemeteries not accepting people, it’s kinda weird. I’ve heard, “I can’t be buried in a Jewish cemetery if I have tattoos,” “I can’t be buried in a Jewish cemetery since I intermarried,” “I can’t be buried in a Jewish cemetery if I commit suicide,” and now “I can’t be buried in a Jewish cemetery if I donate my organs.” Who knew that Jewish cemeteries were a tougher get than Harvard? Personally, I’ve never heard of this happening, maybe it’s a Jewish urban legend. Where’s JewSnopes when you need it? I can’t say with total authority that it never occurs (particularly the intermarriage one), but at the funerals I’ve been to, the dead person arrives in a plain wood coffin and is buried, spit spot. I’ve never seen anyone peek inside and make sure the body looks pristine.

And yes, when you see official personnel in Israel after a fatal event collecting human remains, this is why. They are mostly from an organization called Zaka, which does search and rescue, as well as this horrific task. In Judaism, making sure a person receives a proper burial and is treated with honor after life ends is considered one of the greatest things one can do, because there is no reward for it in this lifetime. It is called “chesed shel emet” or “true kindness.” My cousin told me once that she had served time on a committee at her synagogue that prepared and purified a person for burial. It was hard at first, but after a while it became routine. You could be called at a moment’s notice, too, even in the middle of the night, and you wore special garments. I was awed and impressed, but she is a truly kind person, so there you are.

Relatedly, no one really knows why klezmer is popular. Many grants have been funded to study this issue. I kid! Of course this is why klezmer is popular! Life is short, death is sad, let’s make music and dance!

Thanks for writing!

Elton John – Someone Saved My Life Tonight

Man, I’d be nervous if I were a famous person this Summer. Scary! But for the second time in the space of two months, a celebrity death has really affected me. I think it’s because I knew John Hughes in two ways. When I was a teenager, John Hughes’ movies meant everything to me. For one thing, because the guy just got me and people my age in a way none of the other movies did. This was the way people I knew dressed and talked and felt. Molly Ringwald was meant to be Everygirl and you felt she was you. Well, you felt she was you in some fantasy, which was even better. In the teen novels I read, the protagonist was always pretty but didn’t know it. You found out because someone said it to her, “you’re so lovely!” and not because she looked in the mirror and thought so. So, you know, it could be you. Maybe you were beautiful but just somehow hadn’t realized it. I think it was the same with Molly Ringwald. She was pretty but not conventionally and she was worried about her appearance just like you were. Maybe when you dressed a bit differently and mooned over the unattainable hot guy, you really were more attractive than you supposed. And it was OK that you didn’t really fit in, that you wanted to be like everyone else but also not, because Molly was the same way, and she was just as angst-filled and confused about it as you were, but somehow, she always ended up better than all right.

Sixteen Candles, my favorite Hughes movie, is a genius mix of ordinary teenage life mixed in with utter fantasy. It’s done in such a skillful way that you didn’t look at it as fake, but rather, what might happen to you if the earth had turned slightly differently. It was you, all right, in your quirky and less-than-popular way, but the sort of things you dreamed of actually came true. I remember thinking, “this would never happen,” but not in a snarky way, rather in a, “but it seems so real – how fantastic!” way. As you might imagine, I was pretty cynical back then too, but I never sneered at these films; the details were too right to be faux.

But the best part of John Hughes movies was the music. People now like to remember this as “80’s music” but it wasn’t, at least in this country. I chose a random week in 1984, the year Sixteen Candles came out, and the top 10 singles were from Stevie Wonder, Prince, The Cars, Chicago, Madonna, Billy Ocean, John Waite, Bruce Springsteen, Sheila E., and Cyndi Lauper. The Sixteen Candles soundtrack had Oingo Boingo, Altered Images, Nick Heyward, and the Thompson Twins. Pretty in Pink had OMD, New Order, Belouis Some, Nik Kershaw, Echo & the Bunnymen, and the Smiths. Some Kind of Wonderful had Pete Shelley, the Jesus and Mary Chain, and Flesh For Lulu. The Breakfast Club famously got people in the United States to realize that Simple Minds existed. These were not artists you heard on mainstream stations, this was my music. And John Hughes made it the soundtrack to his teens’ lives, just as it was to mine. Like Molly Ringwald in his movies, for one moment, my weird music made good and was listened to by the cool kids, and it astounded me. I think this is what really made me give my heart to him forever.

That would have been the end of the post had I not one day gotten to meet John Hughes and tell him this myself. Because this guy did love music and ended up starting a label which at one point, my last label distributed. I was a peon at the time and saw lots of famous people go in and out of my boss’ office. I didn’t often get to formally introduce myself. But it was John freaking Hughes, so I did a rare thing and begged my boss to introduce me. Now, I have met a lot of famous people and I’m not bragging. Because when I say I met them, it was just that. “Hi, I’m Becca, nice to meet you, Robert Plant.” Handshake. And that’s it. Sometimes I say, “I love your record.” But it would be a stretch to say that any of these are “conversations.” They are mostly useful to look back at and say, “I met so and so! I shook his hand and looked into his eyes!”

Aside from artists I was actually working with, John Hughes is the only famous person I can honestly say I had a conversation with. I told him how much his movies had meant to me and how I had loved the music. He stood with me in my sad cubicle and discussed various things about his films and why he had chosen the artists he had. I barely remember what was said. What I do remember was how he seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say, gave thoughtful answers, and was happy that his work had had such an impact on me. Really one of the nicest people I have ever met. in fact, I still work with the boss I had back then and when I told him that Hughes had died, he immediately said, “he was the nicest guy on earth.” So true.

But the one thing I will never forget about that encounter is how as he walked away down the hall to meet with another executive, he pointed at my sweater (I just happened to wear this one – you cannot script these things!), smiled, and said “pretty in pink!”

I always knew John Hughes thought I was pretty.

RIP.

Title comes from the soundtrack song with which I identified the most. It’s from Pretty in Pink.

[dailymotion]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1vz2a_suzanne-vega-left-of-center_music[/dailymotion]

A follow-up to yesterday’s Depeche Mode post, because if you really love a concert, you think about it for several days after. Plus, I won’t be able to do a post like this in a couple of weeks, what with the statistical evidence I’ll be using.

Unless it’s a very great omission, you rarely notice what isn’t played until way after the show. You mostly take note of all the gems they did play. For me, how good a show is is at least 75% made up of what the setlist was plus how good my seats are. It occurred to me right away that DM didn’t play their current single either night which is totally weird to me. What band doesn’t play the song they’re promoting right now? Back in the day, and that day was before Napster, the tour was intended to promote an album. You saw the show for the songs you knew and heard new ones that you liked. Then you went to the store and bought a copy so you could hear them at home. Or, to “prepare” for the show, you bought the CD a bit before. Or, you weren’t going to the show at all, but the radio station you listened to was playing the hell out of the single and giving away tickets to the 92nd caller. At some point, the song being played six times a day got you to buy the record. I know this happened in a more than anecdotal fashion because I see the sales every week. When a band plays a city, the sales go up before, during, and for a few weeks after. Then they go back to regular levels.

Now, in our world of free downloads and single-track sales, bands make most of their money from the tour itself. They don’t need to flog the album sales so much, although of course they’d like to. The single’s still meant to do that and to have all the stations playing the same song at once and TV playing the video and the band performing it on the talk shows. Based on its digital sales, I couldn’t even tell you when the current single, Peace, was released. And as far as airplay, Peace received two spins this week (yes, they’re still called spins even without the vinyl record). One of them was on my local station, WRXP, woot! But, that said, that’s pretty pathetic. In contrast, Enjoy the Silence, released in 1990, got 240 spins nationally this week. Enjoy the Silence was also DM’s most downloaded song this week (we’re talking legally here), and Peace has about 8% of its sales, ranking at #21 in DM songs. The first single, Wrong, is at #3 (Personal Jesus is #2), so that’s something. I mean, maybe Peace just failed as a single, but really, I think DM just isn’t a singles band or even an album band anymore. As savvy as they are about selling their records, they know the big bucks come from the tour and with word of mouth just seconds away on the Interwebs, why not give the fans what they really want to hear? And obviously, that’s Enjoy the Silence and not Peace.

Relatedly, they played nothing at all from the album Exciter, just two records back. I think they know no one wants to hear it. Again, it’s about you not posting on your favorite fan forum, “ugh, too much Exciter, not enough Violator,” but rather, “best.show.ever.”

Which is a good segue to me posting last night on Facebook about what a good time I had. I got in return comments from people from all eras in my life who had attended DM concerts with me. I had, in order:

1. A current friend who wants to see them in Atlanta.
2. My camp friend, a fan of classical music normally, who discovered Black Celebration through my incessant play in our bunk and still knows the words to Question of Time.
3. A friend from Musicland who was the one who did the road trip with me where I ditched high school to follow DM to New England.

Amongst others. In fact, I have at least six friends on Facebook with whom I’ve attended DM shows at some point and several more who were just fellow fans somewhere in my lifetime. As amazing as I think it is that I’ve loved the same band for 27 years, I find it even more awesome that they still bond me with my friends as well.

Title is a take-off of:
Depeche Mode – Further Excerpts from: My Secret Garden