Let Us Hold Fast, Saying the Same Thing

Delaware is obviously a different state. When you leave the forest roads that connect Pennsylvania and Delaware and pull out onto Lancaster Pike, you know you're no longer home. And if the really wide road, strange traffic patterns and strip malls weren't enough, when you pull into the neighborhood you're headed to you should be sufficiently disoriented. Delaware developments are like none other. It seems like the bulk of their residential real estate development occurred between 1958 and 1979 in dense intertwined pockets close to commerce. It is a strange place to find yourself on a Saturday night with four friends, but we were there. TV Dinner that is, contracted to play a party for a friend of a friend in front of two people that we knew in addition to the four that we brought.

It was super-awkward at first! Delaware people are standoffish. The only person that wanted anything to do with us was Mariah, our birthday-girl hostess, and even then it was only briefly. We watched the first band, the Adelies, set-up for a little before I decided they didn't think I was punk enough and we headed inside where we sat uncomfortably on a perfectly fine couch. Finally, we heard music coming from the room above the garage (separated from the house by a backyard and forty pot smoking teenagers) and walked up. We watched the Adelies play forever, pulling a long chain of songs out of their asses while we danced and sang along to the ones we know. I think they're now our friends, they asked us to join the Adelie Alliance, but you can never really, really trust a kid with a blue mohawk. Our set was good and messy, typical of a first show and we went over well with all ten people paying attention and I think the glued together mass of people, stuck to a couch and a bong, in the back of the room didn't mind us performing while they indulged. I can't wait til we become a more cohesive sound. "More low-end!" First hometown show should be good, whenever that is. Oh actually it is: February 15th, Kennett High School coffee house. And, hopefully, I can get in touch with the Masonic Lodge this week.

Today was more, erm, effective. Mimi and I met Anna on Route-1 and then headed to the Barack Obama rally in Rodney Square. We parked at my school and walked fifteen or so minutes in crisp fifty degrees and sunny weather. We then found our way down below in a pretty good position! It was great, we could hear everything and had a pretty good view of Barack most of the time. I had actually been losing faith in his campaign the last week or so because he hasn't been getting really particular about policy (which, actually I kind of like. No agenda and all of that...) but today, my hope was reaffirmed. He did talk about policy (one in particular I liked: four thousand dollars to college students that give back via the Peace Corps or otherwise), but especially (his most resounding rhetoric) hope. He said it wasn't "blind optimism" and then proceeded to tell us what it was, using elements from history and his own life to make real his most powerful message. It was really something.

I'm going to repost pictures Anna already posted on her blog. Haha.









We met up with Kit, Kelly and Brads afterward and went to the Brandywine Zoo. Saw a Siberian Tiger! I love him. Also, the smoothness of otters is amazing to me.

After such a good weekend how can I make it through five days of horrible fucking school, preceding another good weekend (Cat Power, Tim Finn, Liars maybe and definitely the Brandywine river)? At least I can find solace in books and things... neat.

I love the world, mostly. Or the one immediate to me. And you!