Friday Night Football
Halloween 2024
Last Time
Tonight was the last time the Girl went through the introduction ceremony at Mauldin High. They won their playoff game, but they won't be playing at home anymore this season. A bittersweet moment to be sure.
Beirut
I would have just had to see the album cover for Beirut's 2006 debut album Gulag Orkestar to have known they would be something special.
As it was, I discovered the thanks to Spotify's auto-curated playlist the app plays at the end of an album. Band of Horses' debut Everything All the Time finished up and Spotify began picking songs based off that last selection. A song by Beirut came on, and it had my attention immediately. Accordion, Balkan-style brass, and a modern rhythmic sensibility. It piqued my interest to say the last. I dove in, choosing their second album based on the cover art itself:
"Cliquot" is a song of longing, a song of nostalgia, a song that is at once timeless and modern. "I didn't know people made music like this anymore," I thought when I first heard it, immediately listening to it again.
"Gallipoli" with its electronic opening sounds starkly different, and then the horns enter, and you start to notice a trend in Beirut's music: brass plays the central. Cue the drums and you have a song that sounds completely different than "Cliquot" and yet strangely similar. The vocals enter, and you wonder if it's not Morrissey singing.
So we're on this journey into Beirut's music together and you look at me and say, "I think we've found the common thread." And I say, "Yes, but we haven't heard the newest album, Hadsel from 2023." The organ begins and sudden, it's as if we've never heard Beirut before -- totally different.
That angelic voice! Those harmonies! All weaving about the organ (a 19th-century organ in Norway). "This is a new side of Beirut," you say.
And then the trumpet enters.
Lest one think one has cornered Beirut, there's songs like "Fyodor Dormant," which begins with an electronic intro that sounds more like eighties dance music before the horns come in, turning the relatively simple intro into a multi-layered Balkan dance tune.
It even has a drum machine! "A totally different Beirut!" I declare. You smile: you've given this a surreptitious listen before. You know -- the trumpet is coming.
"East Harlem" is up next, and we're in familiar territory: a squeeze box introduction. And suddenly there's piano playing eighth-notes as rhythm. It's a different side. A lighter side. And then the trumpet enters followed by the other brass instruments, and everything changes. Back to a new same old Beirut.
But where is that pure Balkan-flavored music we got a taste of with "Cliquot"? "Let's go back to the debut album," you suggest, and there it is.
"I wonder what Beirut would sound like trying to create a pop so with a catchy music video to go along with it," you muse. Sounds impossible after "Prenzlauerber," but if we've learned anything about Beirut it's that nothing is impossible. Cue: "No No No."
And finally, perhaps their finest moment to date: "Arctic Forest." That music can be so calming, so beautiful, and yet have a beat that renders some kind of movement irresistible -- even if you don't have a dancing bone in your body -- is a miracle itself. Add to that the gorgeous arrangement that seems to build but never overwhelm, and you have one of the most perfect songs ever created.
Beirut has been making music for over fifteen years now, and we've only now discovered this treasure. It could be worse: we might never have met with this perfection.
In short, the most original and creative musician currently working.
Senior Night
Tonight was the Girl's last regular-season volleyball game. Not of the year. Of her high school career. We have at least one more game as playoffs start: we'll be playing someone somewhere this Thursday, but we won't know until tomorrow morning who and where.
Six years of volleyball are coming to an end. It's hard not to get a little emotional about that. Last year, with the conclusion of the season's final game (the second or so round into the playoffs -- perhaps the first? I can't remember), L was in tears at the end of the game. "It's just that's the last time we'll be playing with our seniors," she said as she explained that she wasn't in tears so much because of the loss.
The shoe is on the other foot now, one could argue. It's the other girls who should be crying because they're losing L. "It's just that we'll never play with L or S again," they should be saying. Or maybe the tears last year weren't just about the senoirs leaving.
Before the game, we had a ceremony with intros, pictures, and cheers. The girls on the team made gift baskets and posters for the two seniors, and there was a display in the gym entry. The coach had asked parents last week to send some pictures of the girls from various points in their childhood and in their volleyball careers, and she chose a baby picture of each girl and had t-shirts made for the parents. Coincidentally, she chose the same picture Papa's coworkers chose years ago to make a shirt for him as he retired (for the second time? third?).
After the coin toss and warmups, the girls were introduced -- possibly the last time L is introduced on her home court where the cheers are the loudest and most sincere.
As for the game itself, it was a fairly simple matter: Greenwood's divisional record before tonight was 1-12. We'd already beaten them once, and we won easily tonight. But I have to hand it to those Greenwood girls: it takes a lot to keep coming out game after game when you're stacking up loss after loss, almost all of them in straight sets.
Afterward, there were the usual shots -- with the unusual shirts.
Night Hike
Looking Glass Sunset
First Ride in Weeks
Final Games
The end of an era is nearing. Tonight was the next-to-last home game in L's high school volleyball career. It's likely to be highly emotional on Monday when it's the last home game, but tonight, there wasn't time for emotion. It was time for revenge.
Our girls were playing Hillcrest, a team that beat them 1-3 earlier in the year. However, they lost in five sets to Easley, whom our girls beat soundly in straight sets the first time they met this season and won again (though in five sets) the other night at home. It was, in my eyes, a must-win game.
The Girl thought so, too.
The Mavs started off weakly, though: they trailed most of the first set, and in the end, lost it 19-25. "The Hillcrest girls are so confident," K observed, "despite the fact that they've lost their last five matches."
Everyone knew the second set was a critical set: lose it, and it would be hard to win the match. Reverse sweeps are not unheard of, but they are rare. We pulled ahead quickly in the second set, and then launched a huge attack that ended the set with a 25-17 win.
One set each makes the third set the momentum-maker: whoever wins that one needs to win only one more set. At first, I didn't think our girls wanted it: they trailed by about five at one point. But they pulled back and pulled ahead. Then they let Hillcrest catch up. In the end, though, they held them off and won 25-22.
The momentum was definitely on our girls' side of the court that fourth set: they pulled ahead after being behind 1-4 and never looked back, winning a deciding third set 25-22. It extended the Hillcrest girls' losing streak to six, and while I usually don't like seeing someone lose like that, I didn't mind too much tonight.
Neither did our girls.
Department of Defense
I was discussing with my principal how I'd like to reward the class (fourth period) that had absolutely no NHIs for the whole quarter. That means every student turned in every assignment. Seems basic, mundane even. To put it in context, one class had 57 NHIs for fewer assignments.
"I'd really like to reward them, but it would be great to be able to do something really big for them, like buy everyone lunch. But we'd need a budget like the Department of Defense," I said.
"We are the DoD," he laughed. "Those people out their have no idea what we're saving them from..."