Past the Ten-Year Mark

Last July I celebrated the ten-year anniversary of my arrival in the United States. I met friends at a comedy variety show, we played guitars, had a few drinks.

Eleven years ago, twenty years ago, thirty years ago, all the way back to my birth, I was in Europe. Mainly the Balkan part of Central Europe. Since moving to the States, I've visited Europe three times. One summer, one winter, another winter. I'll probably go there again in December. When I think about Europe, I don't think about those past or future visits--those are mere brief parenthetical statements in the long-winded sentence of my post-European life. Europe is now a place that exists in the past no one can access. I can access only the synecdoches of that Europe. I can look up old Olympia typewriters for sale from various online suppliers that respond to this demand for the past. If synecdoches worked outside of language, I could purchase one of those and possess my Europe distilled into an obsolete machine. Of course, more than a West German typewriter exported to America, I am a synecdoche of Europe. I never possessed any of it in the first place. That's in part how I was able to leave.

March in Chicago

March in Chicago, on this warmed globe, will be meteorologically volatile: there's snow today, but there might be an 80-degree day in a couple of weeks, and everything in-between, complete with insane winds and rain, prompting me to wear all the clothes and shoes I own over the course of thirty-one days in an futile attempt to stay comfortable. I got over a bad cold in Feburary, so March should be sniffle-free at least.

But don't get me wrong--I'll greet any sign of spring with proper seasonal euphoria, boasted by the festivities this month packs. March is the month in which I celebrate important dates like the International Day of Women on the 8th, and the International Day of Snezanistan on March 13. The latter is international mainly because it's a big deal for my closest relatives who happen to live in several different nation states. Along those same lines, we will celebrate the International Day of Zorica (sister) on March 14 and the International Day of Stanislav (brother) on March 31.



I'm also a volunteer singer-songwriter, and March is when I get out of my winter hibernation and play a live show. This year, the venue is extra tres chic cool: Transistor. It's a record store that exhibits art, casts pods, and sells not only records, but also books and electronics. As a person who loves the wares a store like that peddles, but has zero expendable income, I typically don't dare go in there. But I've now been hipped to the tip that the store has weekly acoustic shows, free to get in, and you can bring a drink to sip while you take in the sounds. Caren found out they were looking for a duo to book, put me in touch with them, and--voila--I'll play there on March 15, with Frank on bass duties as usual.