Frank Recommends: Music

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So, I’ve been thinking. That’s what introverts do, and occasionally I think about something that is relatively productive. In my writing elsewhere on the Web, I’ve been pretty big into series posts and I thought to myself that it might be fun to try one over here at Ye Olde Frank as well.

What I hope Frank Recommends as a series will do is expose you, cherished reader, to some of my favorite things. As a result, I’m hoping it sparks some conversation, recommendations from you, and just general fun times. Frank can recommend basically anything, and will do so at various intervals. I’ve decided to start with a pretty easy one: Music. Everyone likes music.

I’ve been listening to some really fantastic tunes this summer (but of course I think they’re fantastic, otherwise I wouldn’t listen to them). I get to be really picky about music so it takes a while for an artist to win me over. I have to hear it enough times to really like it without getting sick of it. Seriously. If I hear LMFAO’s “Party Rock Anthem” one. more. time. my head is going to explode… and I’ve never even listened to it the whole way through. I’m convinced it’s the only song Hits 1 plays. Adele is great, but can we take it easy on “Rolling in the Deep” for a little while?

So what’s going to happen right now is that I’m going to recommend 5 songs to you that I am really loving at the moment. Some of these are artists who are new to me, and others I might know a little better. Where do I find these artists? Via other artists, Sirius Radio (I love the Spectrum), doing stuff like this (sharing with friends), and… Conan (seriously, I generally enjoy his mostly-unknown musical guests).

For your part, you’re going to give them a listen, and then you can comment and tell me what you think. We can discuss, we can debate, you can tell me my taste in music sucks, you can tell me similar bands or artists to check out, etc. Pretty easy. You can hit these YouTube videos and let them play in the background while you do other stuff. See how convenient I’m making this for you? Aaaaand GO.

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A Totally Normal Day

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Do you ever find yourself thinking about what it was you were doing just before everything changed?

And not only that, but how normal it seemed?

Sometimes I wonder if it’s weird that I remember these things and hold on to them as some sort of basis of comparison. While I’ve recently been accused of not dealing with change, when a lot of things change quickly, it’s sometimes difficult to organize that. I still remember that last little bit of “normal” before everything went haywire, and whether it’s a coping mechanism or not, I reach back to that.

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Goodbye, Borders. Godspeed.

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When I read the news that Borders would be closing its doors for good, I cried. Not sobbing uncontrollably, but my eyes filled with tears. That might seem like a bit of a strong reaction, but I think it might be more about what this symbolizes. Sometimes I really fear for literacy, and I mean that.

You also never realize how much something meant to you until it’s gone.

Growing up in the middle of nowhere, we didn’t have trendy bookshops. We didn’t have large retail chains like Barnes & Noble, although on special occasions we’d visit the one an hour away. No, we had a shopping center with a small retailer called The Book Store that was hit or miss, and we had a shopping mall with a Waldenbooks, a subsidiary of Borders. So many of my best childhood memories involve books and begging my parents to take me to buy them. It follows, then, that this bookstore in particular has brought me much joy in my life.

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The Hopeful Reader

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Last week I wrote about my Top 5 favorite pieces of escapist literature, and this week I’m here to talk books again. Specifically, I’m thinking about how reading is just as crucial as writing for mental well-being (I’m not saying that it always works, but it does help). Books don’t always need to be escapist in nature to give us something, do they? Different genres elicit different feelings, all of which are necessary for surviving the cruel, cruel world, no?

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Frank’s Top 5 Escapist Books

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If you’re not writing, you might as well be reading. One of the things I’ve always loved about getting lost in a book is just that: getting lost. Some people like television or movies for their escapist endeavors, but I’m more of a book worm. I like my escapist literature. In fact, sometimes I come out of a book, and I kind of forget where I am. I get disoriented and feel like I’m floating somewhere in between two worlds.

I’ve read any number of excellent books that have taken me to a completely different place, and many of them have brought me back time and again when I just need to get out of my own world for a while. It’s difficult for me to rank books — it feels like a parent being asked to pick a favorite child and give the reasons why. I won’t do it. But I will tell you what my Top 5 are.

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Human Pill Bug

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The human body and spirit really are tricky, fascinating things. It’s funny how emotional exhaustion manifests itself to make us feel physically and mentally drained, as well. It also amazes me how much energy it takes simply to put on a happy face.

(I’ve spent the last two days sitting in a chair next to my dad’s hospital bed. This is his 5th hospital stay since the beginning of April and those chairs don’t get any less uncomfortable. I don’t necessarily have anything profound to say, but humor me by reading on.)

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Where in the World is Frankasaurus?

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Franklin G. Sheepfoot
629 Paul Rudd Avenue
Slinky, PA 00019

June 24, 2011

Society of Frank Readers
911 Employment Boulevard
Blogging Brain, PA 00030

Dear Society of Frank Readers,

I am writing to express my interest and enthusiasm in having you continue to visit and read my blog on a regular basis. I realize the updates have been slow lately, but I assure you it is for good reasons. Given my blogging skills, my love of writing, and my sense of humor, I believe I am well-suited to remaining on your must-read list.

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First Person Limited: Narrating My Life

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Well, readers, I’m back — at least for now. It’s been a bumpy couple of weeks, but I’m looking forward to getting back on track and focusing my efforts on various writing projects, including dear Frankasaurus, here. It follows, then, that in this post, writing is what I want to… write about.

You know how you hear parents say things like, “I always knew she would grow up to love singing because we couldn’t get her to stop doing it when she was little,” or “We knew he’d grow up to be an athlete because he excelled at so many sports before he even got to middle school” and such? It’s easy to look at little kids and see the things they’re doing and say that they’ll have successful futures doing X work. All because they demonstrate that one characteristic or hobby that tips people off early on.

What isn’t apparent to the naked eye is what’s going on in the mind. I suppose there’s significant evidence that suggests that those thoughts manifest themselves somehow, that there’s some kind of creative outlet. People couldn’t see into my brain, so even though I was always writing, no one could see where it all was coming from or how it got started.

I narrate everything in my head.

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Honesty: Simple, Enough, Simply Enough?

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Recommended listening for this post: “Honesty” by Billy Joel, “Cry for Help” by Rick Astley (don’t judge me; that song is amazing), and “Start Over” by the Abandoned Pools. In that order.

You know that friend you have with whom you can talk about anything? You can communicate openly and be yourself. Always. There’s nothing you can’t discuss.

Isn’t that a great feeling?

For me, that friend is someone I’ve known for a number of years. Most of my friendships with guys begin when they have a romantic interest in someone I know — a friend, my cousin, my sister. This was no different. This friend had a thing for my sister, and that’s how we started talking. We were in our early teens and became inseparable. We’d spend hours pedaling our bikes all over town, talking about everything. Then we’d go home and get online and talk some more. He became like a member of my family, and in many ways, still is.

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The Fear of Fear Itself

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This is a more personal post than I usually write. I’m just trying to write some things out tonight, as it were, so if it’s not your thing, feel free to check back next week.

Growing up with a sister who is two years younger than me, it was a given that people would compare and contrast us. My sister was always bubbly, cute, wearing the right clothes, dating someone, involved in plenty of activities, and always surrounded by a large network of friends. To this day, when we go somewhere, she’ll make conversation with people she doesn’t know, and she pulls it off.

On the other hand, I have always been reserved, quiet, shy, frustrated that no one makes clothes for the little teapot, habitually single, involved in plenty of activities, and with a select core group of very close friends. I’m not very outgoing because I get really nervous talking to people I don’t know or don’t know well. I stammer and stutter and say stupid things. I think I’m a generally awkward person.

We are basically nothing alike, which is probably why we find ourselves arguing a lot and unable to really understand each other. But that’s not really where this is going to go. Over years of comparisons, people always assumed that because I was quiet and not very outgoing, I’d always be more interested in staying close to home. I’d probably attend the local campus and stick around close to mommy and daddy when school was over. My sister, on the other hand, would run off and live somewhere interesting. She was much better suited to take care of herself.

My sister ended up going to college about 20 miles away. In the fall, my brother, the most outgoing and adventurous of the three of us, will be heading off to college about 40 miles away. Surprising everyone who thought I’d go to school in my back yard, my college was just over 100 miles from home. And on move-in day of my freshman year when my whole family stood on the sidewalk telling me tearful goodbyes, I didn’t cry with them. I gave them hugs, sent them off, spun on my heel, and got to my life.

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