First real post, a name change, and a video, too!
[There used to be a video here. Unfortunately, I can’t afford a Wordpress video upgrade right now. You can view the original video at my old Tumblr: http://lightofmylantern.tumblr.com/post/922408001/first-real-post-a-name-change-and-a-video-too]
So, why “light of my lantern” as the new name?
— I guess I could make the metaphorical claim that writing is the light of my lantern (in a few ways, actually). But doing so makes me cringe a little.
— My high school was very much into lanterns, for practical and symbolic and historical reasons. I can’t even see or think about a lantern anymore without being reminded of ceremonies and some truly beautiful moments. That’s a good thing.
— The phrasing reminds me of the famous opening words to Lolita, one of my all-time favorite books.
— It’s a lyric in Josh Ritter’s song “Lantern.” I dug the song already, but last night sealed the deal. At Mr. Ritter’s fantastic show in Tarrytown, N.Y., venue personnel handed out lightsticks to every audience member after the opening act (Tift Merritt, who was good, but whose tiny teal minidress made me nervous every time she swiveled/bent/stooped on the raised stage.)
Anyway, our lightsticks were tied to a little green note: Dear Josh Ritter Fans, You have been given a glow stick. Please do not light it up now. Wait for Josh to start singing “Lantern.” First verse — “Be the light in my lantern…” Them light ’em up and hold them high !! Let’s give something back. Let’s give Josh a moment to remember here in Tarrytown.
Well, cynical-paranoid me wondered what would happen if “Lantern” wasn’t on the setlist, but it was, and… it was a “moment to remember” for all of us. I hope I’m not diluting it by posting my shaky, unedited little video above.
The New York Times once characterized Josh Ritter on stage as an exuberant puppy that’s just been let off its leash. Or something like that. It’s about right. I’ve now seen him eight times, and the enthusiasm and true love for the music are contagious. The stage banter of rambling, endearingly nerdy stories (one time it was about MRI screenings; last night it was about heirloom tomatoes) only enhances things. By the way, the songs sure aren’t bad (and by “not bad,” I mean “in my humble and highly debatable opinion, he’s pretty much the closest thing to a modern Bob Dylan as a lyricist”), either.
So there you have it.
