This video by Keane and K’Naan (a rapper/hip-hop artist from Somalia whose album rocks my socks)
It represents a lot of what I love best about music videos….emotional interpretation of song lyrics, innovative visuals, musical collaborators standing together awkwardly in front of curtains, theft of Michael Buble’s wardrobe, and of course a new song from a band I like.
Also: Trips to museums with kids from Harlem, spending 4 out of 5 workdays in classrooms teaching kids things I didn’t quite even realized I’d learned…. learning all the things I forgot to learn so I can teach them….. dinners out with awesomesauce roommates, coworkers, and twin-sisters-of-former-roommates-who-are-just-as-awesome-as-they-were-when-we-were-12….. Queer as Folk from Netflix…. New Banh-mi and bubble tea establishments…. creepy and annoying Brooklyn crowds* at sold-out cerebral comedian performances…. dancing into the wee hours followed by cupcakes with new friends…. Jamba Juice…. movies I haven’t seen yet… movies I’ve seen a million times… long walks during lightening storms….
In fact, most of the things I feel compelled to do during near-thunderstorms are Dangerous. Friday night I needed a long walk (I blame the traditional Friday Night Pizza, which I haven’t had in forever and succumbed to out of teaching-related exhaustion and a serious cheese deficiency), so I headed out well after the hour every female relative I have would have said was the latest it is safe for me to be out. After years of being embarrassed by my legs, I kicked body anxiety to the curb and went out in shorts and a tank top. And I felt invisible in the best possible way. The air had been hot and stifling all day, so I knew we were due for a storm. The electricity in the hair was making my arms prickle, and white-blue cracks of lightening were jagged against the clouds way to the south of us. I went a-walking in search of that cooling wind that whips up before the rain, but it never came. I traced Park Slope’s grid for close to 45 minutes and there was no sudden jarring break in the tension, just a gradual breezing, easing of the air’s thick tightness. Finally I turned homeward, peeking in the windows of sports bars to catch the Mets score, which was even worse than the weather. Showered to cool off. Slept like a pizza-sated baby. Woke up to gorgeous sunshine before my alarm, or the radio that prepares my subconscious to accept the alarm, or the bustling of Amy Poehler the Hamster who can somehow tell the radio’s about to come on.
Tomorrow: International Street Food Fair and/or the Park Slope 5th Ave Festival thing. On the one hand….alligator sausage. On the other…not having to brave weekend subway service. Deciiiiiiisions.
*ok, this is a thing I do NOT like that made it into the list due to proximity to a thing I DO like. Please see also: kissy noises from strangers, falling back asleep after my shower so my hair looks like I was trying to do an Elvis impression, people’s jackets hitting me in the face because they just have to hold onto the overhead pole and lean down to their girlfriend instead of holding onto the vertical pole and NOT hitting me in the face, "Too fast, please swipe again" messages from subway turnstiles….. and Dan Uggla.