December 22, 2001

December 22, 2001 9:18 PM

Finally the end of 2001 approaches. Welcome 2002. It has turned cold here. Winter on the east coast finally arrives. The teddy bear awaits. And all I have to do to be literally surrounded by Christmas fantasyland is drive 3 streets away to a neighbor’s house, park the truck, get out and revel in one acre of land completely covered in multi-colored twinkling lightbulbs and a 30 foot Christmas tree.

Tonight the kitchen is warm. Pizza and Hoegaarden. Speaking of Belgium, a bit of odd mental film/memory from the 1995 (Swans on Main Stage) Pukkel Pop played inside my head today when I came across a certain menu. To see the ‘film’ the way I do : imagine a very thin , delicate Thom Yorke alone pulling back the flap of a huge white dining tent on the farm grounds-become-festival, cautiously looking up and around. I was seated at a table by the entrance. (Here is a sampling of the non-vegetarian offering for bands exactly as it is printed on the menu : “stuffed leg of guinea-fawl, qinua bulgur and whole rice, soja dessert with apple-curd”….) As he walked inside, Thom looked so fragile with the light on his pale skin, bony hands clasped in front of him awkwardly, stooped shoulders, and faraway eyes. Radiohead played on a smaller stage that year. They had not yet achieved mega stardom all over the world – but they had to me. I saw an angel.

After all festivals and crowded venues, I preferred to go off alone and walk along the streets of the town. Steve Albini was checking into the hotel when I got back from the festival. We said hello and then I dropped off my key and went for a long stroll through the village absorbing the sounds of the cafes, and the feel of cobblestone under my Nikes.

Love and the taste of bliss in 2002. Salut !