Friday, November 29, 2013

898-5875 - Reba's phone number?


 

"Here's an interesting little notion. Did you realize that most people's lives are governed by telephone numbers?"

(from Douglas Adams' "The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy")


For 21 years, I have been enjoying the song "Reba". It was the second Phish song I had ever heard.

And for 21 years, I kept getting thrown off by the staccato hits and pauses that come at the end of the composed fugue section just before the jam.
 

I finally decided to count the beats between the seven sets of staccato hits and I found that the section is comprised, in eighth notes, of a measure of 8, followed by a measure of 9, then a measure of 8, then of 5, of 8, 7, and 5.

8-9-8-5-8-7-5

Sounds like a phone number, right? So that got me wondering if Reba was a real person and if, in a crazy yet subtle way, Trey Anastasio decided to expose her phone number to the most attuned ears in Phish's tiny audience in 1989.

Or maybe Dougals Adams was right and, even without our knowing it, the things we do in life are governed by telephone numbers. And because of that, it was so incredibly easy to commit it to memory that I have not missed the beat all year.



Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Mountain men

"I'm the man from the mountain. Won't you come on up?"

While spending a week exploring the mountains of Utah, I could not help but sing songs that refer to mountains (yes, out loud, to myself), usually Phish songs.

At some point I realized while "Mountains in the Mist" may be the most direct and obvious, several of their songs make passing references to mountains. So many, in fact, that one can not help but wonder if these guys from the Green Mountain state always have mountains on their minds.

Mountains can be found in the Anastasio/Marshall songs, with lyrics presumably written by Tom Marshall - "Two Versions of Me", "Walls of the Cave", "All of These Dreams", "Back on the Train", "End of Session", "The Wedge".

If you count cliffs, there are more - like the "cliffside push"  in "Limb by Limb" and the "unclimbable cliffs" in "Nothing". Even Mike Gordon, whose lyrics seem to be devoid of mountains, mentions a cliff in "Sugar Shack".

Trey Anastasio's own lyrics are chock full of mountains - from the early days of "Runaway Jim" to more recent fare like "Kill Devil Falls" and "Twenty Years Later". Most of the songs in his "Gamehendge" saga mention The Mountain. Even songs that are peripheral to the story refer to mountains or The Mountain - "Llama", Jeff Holsdworth's "Possum", and the liner notes to "The Divided Sky".

Even frequently-played cover songs have mountains - the lyric above comes from the Rolling Stones' "Loving Cup". And "Rocky Top" is, I presume, about a mountain.


Despite the multitude of songs I mentioned, I am sure I missed some.  Mountains are everywhere in Phish's songs.  Let us go on up.


Friday, November 22, 2013

Alexis runs Philly

This past winter I wrote about how I coached my friend Alexis as she trained for her first half-marathon.  After that race, it warmed my heart when she told me she was hooked.  As a missionary to spread the joy of running, she was my first convert. She even expressed interest in running a full marathon.

I suggested Philadelphia because it was my first and my decision to do it came hot off the heels of my first half-marathon.  I knew it was a fun race, a great course and big enough to get a big-city feel, but small enough to not be too overwhelming.  During the summer, she committed to it and started her training.

Check out Alexis' blog for the rest of the story, including all the excitement, nerves and emotions that comes with running one's first marathon: http://alexistarrazi.wordpress.com/2013/11/21/i-am-a-marathoner/

I could not be happier for her accomplishment.  Her story made me remember the joy of that first marathon - breaking barriers, everything being so new, the thrill of the crowds cheering as the finish line approaches.  Alexis reminded me of the essence of marathon running, something I may have lost along the way, emphasizing those lessons I learned a week earlier in Florida.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

The Inaugural Fort Myers Beach Marathon

It was a secret for everyone else and then a surprise for myself.


Unbeknownst to my friends and family (who were worried that I was overdoing it), I jumped right back into marathon training, starting in the middle of the Hal Higdon Advanced program with an eye on a Maryland race on Nov. 17.  I wanted to continue my one-per-state streak, but needed something drive-able because I could not afford another big airplane trip. I knocked out 18, 19, and 20 mile runs with surprising ease.

In the meantime, my dear grandfather from Cape Coral, Fla., passed away. You may recall that I was supposed to run a marathon in his hometown last year, but it was cancelled. And then he was gone and I would never get to show him my stuff and make him proud of his grandson's accomplishments in running.

I stretched the budget and booked a flight for the memorial service, landing in Florida on Friday, Aug. 8.  That evening, I looked at the local paper and saw an article about a new marathon taking place on Sunday, a mere 12 miles away from Cape Coral. I made up my mind right there. I announced at the memorial service the next day that I was going to run that race for Grandpa and my cousin was going to run the half-marathon.

Mikey and I got to Fort Myers Beach before the crack of dawn to do race-day registration. We got our bibs, stretched a bit and hit the start line.  There was no time to be nervous or to over-think it.

This being Florida, the course was almost entirely flat.  However, this being Florida, it was hot and humid.  I had been training in the increasingly colder northeast.  Heck, Mikey had not been training at all.  Shirtless, with my bib on my right leg and Grandpa's old business card on my left, I headed out of the starting gate with 230 marathoners and 558 half-marathoners.  Within a half mile, we went over the bridge out of the beach town - the one "hill" (and it was big).

Deliberately hanging back and trying my hardest to start out slow, I somehow knocked out almost precise 7:17 splits up to Mile 13, directly on target for my modest but challenging goal of 3:11.  But by then it was around 8:30 a.m. and the sun was heating things up. And since most of this section of the race took place on main roads like San Carlos Boulevard and Summerlin Avenue, there was a lot of blacktop to add to the heat.  Perhaps that is why my 8:08 13th mile gave way to a 6:47 14th mile once we got into beautiful Lakes Park.

Inside the park there were a bunch of twists and turns within the double loop along its paths.  Some were tree lined and paved, some dirt, some little foot bridges over water.  The new terrain helped me stay within a reasonable if not ideal time frame, with 7:20-ish splits for miles 15 through 19.

I watched the people coming at me on the backside of the loop, and noticed that I was consistently passing people that had been far ahead of me in the first half of the race.  I counted as they passed, and as I passed others.  I was in eighth place!  Then seventh...sixth...fifth...fourth!

Then it was back out on the road and time to keep on keeping on.  It was lonely out there in miles 20 through 22.  No other runners around me, cars speeding by, only a handful of spectators.  A fast female runner passed me - she looked strong, I was fizzling out.  7:55 splits.

Amazingly, I passed her at the next water station and she never returned to overtake me.   I was back in fourth...and then I passed a guy who looked more burned out than I was.

But I was definitely burning out.  I wondered if I would ever see that Mile 23 sign.  It seemed like forever.  It was more than eight minutes.  Ditto for Mile 24.

But then, like a beacon of hope, I saw the bridge back to FMB.  I just had to get over that bridge and I was home free, right?

Not quite.  I was in Mile 25 and the bridge was only a half-mile from the finish, so where was that extra mile?  As this question hit me, I was instructed to turn left.  Just. Before. The. Bridge.  It was heartbreaking.  And that, I believe, is what caused me to slam into The Wall.

"Who hits the wall in Mile 25???" is all I kept thinking as my body started shutting down and the run turned into a shuffle.  Grunting and groaning as I passed people who were walking the half-marathon, I pushed up the bridge.

"Push...push...push...Got...to...do...it...for...Grandpa..."

 Cresting the bridge with a 9+ minute pace for the last two miles, I tried as best as I could to lengthen my stride, no matter how much it hurt.  This was for Grandpa.  This was how I would have wanted him to see me finish.  Strong.  Just like he was.

Mikey was on the sidelines, taking video of my final approach as I yelled, "This is for Grandpa!"

With a final time of 3:18 and a third-place standing, I was more than happy.  I kissed the sky, loudly proclaimed my dedication of the race to George Sorrentino, and collected my medal.

Excepting the disasters in Delaware and Utah, this was my slowest marathon.  Yet it felt as good as my best races.

This is what I learned right then and there: If the goal is not a PR, but rather something more existential, then the clock time does not really matter.  What matters is finishing strong.  What matters is feeling good about the accomplishment.  What matters is making Grandpa proud, even if he is not here to say so.


(official results and photos at FortMyersMarathon.com)

Monday, November 18, 2013

20-miler and Phish in Connecticut

The first thing I did when I got to Connecticut for the third and final night of my Fall Tour shows was map out a place to run.  I was positively thrilled when I found the Farmington Canal Trail in Cheshire. Much like my favorite place to run in New Jersey and Pennsylvania - the Delaware and Raritan Canal Trail - it is a paved recreation trail that was created from the towpath of a 19th Century canal.

My leisurely paced out-and-back on this flat, scenic surface on a crisp autumn day was a perfect running experience as I headed to Hamden and back.  Never fatigued, smiling throughout, still glowing from the previous night's Phish show (yet surprisingly not tired from all the dancing!), I finished the run with a swift almost-sprint for the last three miles.  I even jogged an extra mile for good measure.

Then it was off to the hotel for an ice bath and right back in the car to head to the XL Center in Hartford.

One would think that I would not have it in my legs to dance the night away at the Phish show, but one would be wrong.

The show kicked off with a killer rendition of Velvet Underground's "Rock and Roll".  The audience went absolutely bananas.  After a fantastic jam, the crowd started...booing??  What the hell?  Trey then said something about dedicating the song to a great artist and asked for a moment of silence.  I had no idea what he was talking about, so I asked the guy behind me.  

"Dude, Lou Reed died today."

That was heavy news, but it explained a lot - the crowd was not booing, they were saying, "Louuuuuuuuuuuuu".  That is what I get for spending the day running and not paying attention to the news.  When on Phish tour, I get my news at the shows.

The first-timer sitting next to me was positively stoked about "Ocelot" which was great because it is nice to see someone get excited about it and also because it was a particularly excellent version. The set included songs like "Tube" (at four minutes, way too short), "Fee" (I'm so over it), "Nellie Kane" (a former rarity that I can now do without), "NICU" ("Play it, Leo!") and "A Song I Heard the Ocean Sing" (the weakest song on the otherwise strong 'Undermind' album), with the highlights sprinkled among them:

"Halfway to the Moon" is a Page McConnell standout for 3.0. I never tire of it.  "Maze" blows my mind more now than it did 20 years ago, with Page's insane soloing on the organ and Trey's frenetically choppy rhythm guitar. "Lawn Boy" is always a lounge-y treat.  And "Walls of the Cave" was well-executed in the front half and packed the right amount of punch in the back half.  I always want that F# buildup to burst like an enormous bubble into the B chord for the jam and this one did not disappoint.

"Chalk Dust Torture" opened the second set, continuing its status as the song I have most frequently seen Phish play.  I think I am up to almost 30.  

Someone tweeted on Sunday morning that there was going to be great Hartford "Tweezer" and he was so right. "Tweezer" got dull in the later years of 1.0 and was hit or miss in the 2.0 days.  But there was something about the "Tweezer" tour opener in Bethel, N.Y., in 2011 that brought me back around and eager to hear it again.  Every version since then has been stellar.

"Golden Age" another huge highlight, every time, lived up to its status in my mind as the best cover song of 3.0. I am an unstoppable dance machine when Phish plays this, and the jam did everything to keep me interested and grooving.

"Birds of a Feather" and "Halley's Comet" were good enough, but unless they start jamming on them more, I do not think I can get too excited about them at this point. But the "2001" jam was a surprise - they stretched it and bent it in ways I have not heard since the late '90s.

"Fluffhead" - the original banner of 3.0 which served to bury the "Fluff"-less 2.0 - was well-played in its changes (not to mention the "jumping" part) and nice and big for the ending.  

As with "Walls", I am very particular about the buildup in "Slave to the Traffic Light" (especially with both being set-closers).  The crescendo is what makes or breaks a "Slave" and, thankfully, it has been reliably the former almost every time these days.  I recall a time in 1997 when I was so frequently disappointed with it, but that is becoming a distant memory.

And who can argue with a rock-tastic encore of "Loving Cup" and "Tweezer Reprise"?  Though my legs were getting sore, I could not stop leaping with excitement and frenzy during the closing section of the latter.  

Three days of stellar Phish shows, 30 miles of excellent running.  That, dear reader, is a perfect weekend.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Night Two of Phish at DCU Center, Worcester, MA

I stayed in Sturbridge, Mass., between Phish shows in Worcester, where I did a 10-mile pace run on the afternoon of the second show.  I ran north from the main drag of Route 20, past I-90 and up into the big hills of Brookfield and was lucky enough to see some of the lovely and colorful fall foliage that still remained on the trees in late October.  Despite the hills, I managed to nail a 7:09 pace.  It was amazing pace run result, considering I was not even training for a marathon - I was just trying to stay in marathon shape.

The opening rat-a-tat-tat snare drum of "Party Time" kicked off Phish's second night at DCU with a festive bang.  I was way up behind the stage in section 315, but the sound was perfect and I had lots of dancing room, which I totally used.  The party rocked on into "Punch You in the Eye" and the first set continued to bring the heat on that chilly evening.  Though "Back on the Train" and "My Soul" were good enough, the set's big moments came with "Bathtub Gin", an excellently executed and ferociously jammed "Stash", and a great (though shorter than I had hoped) "Simple". 

And then there was "Ride Captain Ride". Since 1987, the band has played several hundred shows, yet only dug out this nugget 17 times. Since 1993, when I first saw them, they have only played this old Blues Image song (who even remembers them?) 10 times.  How I have managed to see four of those is beyond me.  It is a fun little ditty about sailing on a mystery ship, but it is legendary for its rareness at Phish shows. Like when I saw "Skin It Back" last year, the thrill was not so much in the song itself, but in the feeling that it is a once-in-a-blue-moon moment when Phish plays it. 

OK, it is not exactly the same, since "Captain", though less rare, is a much cooler tune.

Set one ended with a raucous-as-usual "Character Zero"  a song typically reserved for the end of set two or the encore, and in retrospect, it is no wonder.  The second set was so far out and blissful that even a big number like that was not needed. 

Back in the late-'90s and definitely in the 2.0 period of 2003-04, we would occasionally be treated to the kind of set with jams so huge that Phish would end up only playing a handful of songs.  This night was a throwback to that, but with all the precision and major-key bliss that has been a staple of recent years.  The Who's "Drowned" as an opener lasted 20 minutes.  "Light", 13 minutes of glorious jam.  When the funk of "Sand" is the shortest of the first three (seven minutes), you know you are in a thick set. 

"Theme From the Bottom" slowed it down, but the large ending gave way to a "Mike's Song -> No Quarter -> Weekapaug Groove" combo that absolutely destroyed the room.  And for the first time to my knowledge since the mid-'90s, they closed the set with "Weekapaug" but without a big rock-n-roll-ending of bashing out the final chord.  It simply was not necessary.  We were blown away.

And like "Ride", Led Zeppelin's "No Quarter" is another rarity - only six performances since its debut in 2011 - that I have managed to see them play more times than I deserve (I have been treated to half of them).

The encore was awkward, with a guest drummer (Kenwood Dennard) to whom Jon Fishman referred as one of his favorites. He did a nice job with "Boogie On Reggae Woman" but made a mess of "Possum".  

Still, nothing could erase what the second set did.  It was one of those magical nights that would remove any doubt (if there had been any, which there had not) about why I keep coming back for more, even after 94 shows.