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Ben Wilson

Ben Wilson

ben wilson This is the blog of a one Ben Wilson, a Louisville, Kentucky native who enjoys baseball, beer, music, bikes, things that fly and good food. By day he pushes pixels and makes the Internet happen for a local advertising agency. His wife, Kelly is an Ironman, and his baby Amelia is the cutest thing ever.

First up, Gary has again (as I type this no less, barring aeronautical hold-ups) gone back across the pond to his Asiatic homestead. A visit all too short, considering he *might* be back in August or December, depending upon a number of things. Now, he’s got a trick or two up his sleeve upon his return, none of which I will ruin by laying out spoilers (though, I think that would be the ultimate spoiled movie ending, heh.) Anyway, good luck, Gary! Use the bat given to you well!

Interpol - Turn On the Bright Lights

So, when I first read Pitchfork‘s review of Interpol‘s Turn On The Bright Lights, and then their subsequent hailing of the album as “#1 of the Year” I was a bit suspicious. As with all critical media, they never hit 1.000 in anyone’s ballpark.

Well, thanks Jackson‘s various gift certificates, the Interpol disc made its way over to the house shortly after Christmas. I ripped it, as was my want (and Jackson was in no state to argue, heh), and later listened to it.

Do I think it’s the #1 album of the year? Of “THE” Year? Of “MY” Year is a more correct application, methinks. Well, no, that lies with Wilco‘s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (also a 10 on Pitchfork’s scale, and the #2 album of the Year. Nonetheless, I’d have to add “Turn On The Bright Lights” on my short list of “Great Albums That Ben Heard This Year”.

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Jan 6 2003 ~ 8:30 am ~ Comments Off ~
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  • continue this disturbing trend that i’ve started as of late called “reading”. i used to think i never had enough time to read — but this is patently false, as i do use the bathroom at least twice a day. (for those of you who just groaned, you know you read in the bathroom). also included in this “reading” fad would be some highly recommended graphic novels, i.e. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and Transmetropolitan
  • finally get this damned basement in respectable shape. shelves are key here, i think.
  • complete the project i just started secretly working on for kelly. she, nor anyone else knows any details about it. perhaps it shall be unveiled birthday or christmas for kelly this year. that is my hope.
  • finish up my Gambler and F-4 kits, respectively.
  • continue with this finding and summarily listening to new music. Wilco, Ben Kweller, The White Stripes (featuring the beautiful Meg), The Strokes, Interpol, Jurassic 5, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Palace Music (among others) made this last year a bounty of good music to be had. (Yes I know may of those folks didn’t release albums in the last year, but I listened to them during the last year, so nyah)
  • go camping and canoeing, or perhaps kayaking would be nicer. in any case, camping with some sort of non-car transport involved. yeah.
  • travel up in the northeast. on the heels of 2002′s Westward Trek, would be 2003′s Nor’eastah, or at least I’d like to think so.
  • more later…
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    Jan 2 2003 ~ 9:14 am ~ Comments Off ~
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    2002 was marked with fear, uncertainty, change and promise for me. in august of 2001 i asked kelly to marry me. april 26, 2002 was the date we married. in between, i struggled to keep myself together, mentally and physically. work had hit a bit of a slide, and a number of folks that i counted as friends at work were let go, and for the first time i really felt vulnerable.

    with my usual candor, i didn’t let myself (or the world) know of what was weighing on my mind. instead, it manifested itself into the physical, causing me to have strange stomach pains (not really pains, just pressure). that was early on in january — and even after it was diagnosed as gastritis in february, it continued on until after the wedding. my hypochondriacal ways would not let me believe that it was merely stress, and in those early winter days of january i fell into a walking catatonia of irrational, crippling fear. spring came, and with the ‘ok’ diagnosis, my spirits lifted.

    in April, we were to be wed. Never before had I greeted a more confusing array of emotions, some of which still linger. I assumed I would feel anxious, worried, happy, exstatic. What I felt was fear. Fear of the future, fear of the past, fear of confusion of my own emotions. After all — I had just duped myself into believing I could die just because of a little stiff heartburn.

    The honeymoon were quite possibly the two most liberating weeks of my life, and I shall never forget them. Kelly and I were free from the cares of the world, free from tomorrow and yesterday, no map and no plan. The beauty I beheld there lies ingrained in my heart.

    Summer brought news that some people that I cared deeply for could be taking leave of this town for what to me seemed eternity. I rely upon my friends more than they may ever know, and knowing that some of them could be leaving town shook me to the core.

    Summer also brought about a passion shared between friends in the form of baseball. It felt good to be on that field, under the fawning evening sun. So little can be said when playing catch, but so much can be understood. I felt as if an old bonds had been renewed, and new ones forged.

    Fall came about with a new home, and Kelly and I leaving our now-beloved Highlands. Though with that sadness came an unexpected feeling of accomplishment and safety. I had found a vigor in this feat of building — building that I was instructed to continue by the wisest of counsel.

    This winter has come in a fairer fashion that last years’ cold and looming silence. Kelly and I decorated our house together, and hosted our own holiday for the first time. It gave me great joy to do that with her. Our house felt like the home I had been away from for so long. The holidays did not stay long enough.

    This year was the first year in many that all of our friends were not present for a New Years Eve celebration. Though I suppose that is the moral of this past year, as New Years Eve 2002 looks back upon a year where I learned much about change and the fear of it. Change makes the future different from the past, and the ability to discern that — and relish in it is uniquely human, I think. I have learned much, but am still ignorant in these parts.

    Last year saw fear fade into promise, and I intend to continue on that path. My sole resolution this year is to be a better friend. That encompasses a great deal, I hope. The people I hold so dear, I hold at an arms length, and rely upon them at a strange distance that finds me alone in my thoughts too often.

    So here is to a new year — I know not what it holds, but I shall endeavor to learn from what it offers.

    filed under General and then tagged as
    Jan 1 2003 ~ 2:35 am ~ Comments Off ~
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