No, it’s not because of Lebron. Mostly.

photo credit: Rabesphoto

A month ago, my wife & I decided that we were moving from Asheville, North Carolina to the Near West Side of Cleveland, Ohio – specifically, to the Gordon Square neighborhood. We made our decision quickly, but not without a lot of careful thought. While it may seem trite to credit philosophical rationale to a film, at some point in my teenage years, a sidebar from Jim Jarmusch (from Akron, Ohio)’s film Ghost Dog stuck with me. Forrest Whitaker’s inner-city Samurai/Hitman quoted from the Hagakure, “A decision should be made in the space of seven breaths”.

I feel most of the important decisions in my life have been made this way. Once the necessary information has been collected, dwelling on a decision does nothing but cloud the matter at hand. Analyze your data, weigh your options, and then trust your gut.

Some background:

I grew up in North East Ohio, in the suburbs of Kent. My father was a professor at Kent State University, and we lived in a spacious house with a big back yard. Going anywhere required getting in the car – nothing was more than a few miles away, but everything was just a little bit further than seemed convenient by foot or by bicycle. Walking and biking were for recreation, not utility.

I attended Kent State University, studying Visual Communication Design. I lived on campus. My legs saw a lot of use, and it felt good. Everything was at your fingertips – food, knowledge, entertainment – but in the pre-packaged environment you can expect from a college campus.

Shortly before graduation, I purchased a house in Stow, firmly situated in the suburbs. I bought the house with a vision for what I could do with it: a recording studio and practice space in the basement, a place to build my Graphic Design business, an open and welcoming environment for my friends and my friends’ friends. I can’t count the number of people who crashed on couches and floors in that house over the six years I lived there. While the surroundings were not compelling for me (every chain store or restaurant you could imagine within a few minutes drive!), what occurred within those walls was an end unto itself.

In the summer of 2010, I was shattered by the collapse of my engagement to a woman who had also grown up in the Kent area. Suddenly, everything I saw on a daily basis was soured by memories of that relationship – when your entire life has been lived, for the most part, within a 5-mile radius, it’s hard to escape the daily reminders of how things didn’t go according to plan. I began to plot my escape.

In September of 2011, I relocated to Asheville, North Carolina. From the start, I viewed Asheville as less of a destination and more of a waypoint – I said, “I’ll give it a year, and see how things go. If I’m not happy, I’ll move on.” I knew that if I was able to survive the move away from Ohio, the world would then be my oyster.

Asheville’s a beautiful, seductive place, laden with gorgeous scenery, great food, plentiful microbreweries, and not a chain store to be seen downtown.

After one year, I had no desire to leave. It was a great home base for touring – I covered most of the US on tour in 2012.

Another year, and I married my wife Beth on top of Mt. Pisgah.

Six months later, I knew it was time to move on.

I can’t point to one single event, just a series of loosely connected realizations that accumulated into the sense that my time in Asheville was drawing to a close.

Beth & I set our sites on Austin, TX. It had long been on both of our lists of places we’d love to live. We planned a trip for mid July to scout out the city, both of us operating on the assumption that we’d be moving there within the next 8 months.

We had a great time on that trip, but Austin just didn’t feel right. I was physically unable to deal with the Texas heat, and housing costs were stomach-churningly high for us. Sitting in a gelato shop in North Austin, we discussed our options.

“We could always backpedal and stay in Asheville for a while longer,” I said. “Or… and this might sound crazy… but what about Cleveland?”

It was just the previous day that Lebron James had announced that he would be returning to Cleveland to play for the Cavs, so there’s no way I can completely discount the effect his Decision (capital D) had in this question – someone who could literally choose anywhere in the country to call home, chose this city. But far more than Lebron, credit is due to Jack, Jeremy and Paul.

These are my friends who for the last several years have been singing Cleveland’s praises; sharing every positive article published about the city, mentioning every great new restaurant, every resurgent neighborhood, every new downtown development. These were the Cleveland evangelists populating my Facebook feeds with the idea: Cleveland is the next big thing.

Any of the “cool” cities on our list – Austin, Portland, Seattle, San Francisco – were already well out of our price range as places to plant our flag. That’s because people believed in those cities, and put down roots before the cities were “cool”. They contributed their energy, their talent, their enthusiasm to their neighborhoods and their cities. They were what made the city flourish, and what eventually made the city “cool”.

This is why Beth & I made the decision that we want to be part of something that’s in process of happening, not something that has already happened.

Our second day visiting Cleveland, we put in an offer on a 3-story Victorian house, one block off Detroit Avenue. Our offer was accepted the same day. If all goes to plan and there are no unexpected issues in closing on the house we will be relocating at the end of September.

In the 1940s the house was converted into a men’s boarding house, and hasn’t been updated since. It has random sinks and stoves scattered throughout. It’s going to take energy, vision, and hard work to make it into our dream house, but we’re willing to put in the effort.

Cleveland is going to take energy, vision, and hard work.

We’re willing to put in the effort.

Earlier today, my good friend Brian Otte shared Apple’s new iPhone Christmas ad, entitled “Misunderstood.”

The ad depicts a family Christmas gathering. In each scene we see a teenage boy focused on his phone, seemingly withdrawn from the activities going on around him. In the final scene of the commercial, he gathers the family together and shares the video he’d be secretly shooting throughout the day, on his phone.

Brian shared the video with the comment, “I really don’t know how I feel about the sentiment here. On the one hand it demonstrates that technology can be used to capture moments instead of avoid them, but on the other hand I feel like too often we are concerned with capturing moments instead of participating in them.”

In the discussion that followed, an NPR article about the same ad was shared, which discussed those same two interpretations of the ad – the one which (negatively) feels that it’s saying our phones should be infused into every aspect of our lives, and the other which (positively) feels the ad is pointing out that a seemingly-disconnected teenager may in fact be engaged in the events around him or her.

I have a feeling that the two basic reactions stem from two different general views of technology, and what effect it has on children, or people in general. For those who feel that technology can enrich our lives, and can help those who have difficulty connecting find a way to reach out to others, it does a wonderful job of pointing out that the kid who spends his time on his phone might not be shutting out what’s happening around him, but connecting in his own way. It’s not just about capturing moments as opposed to participating; creating something that can be experienced by others IS participating.

For those who believe that technology separates us from one another, the reaction is opposite. What I think those people forget is the kids that sit around on their phones, but are still with family, without those phones would either be looking miserable and saying nothing, or have gone off by themselves. Remember how parents used to complain that kids were always off in their rooms talking on the phone? Well, they’re not in their rooms anymore, and they’re not tying up the phone lines.

I fall squarely into the first group. I’m an extrovert with social anxiety – I crave human interaction, but am terrified of making first contact with strangers, or even those I don’t know well (and that includes extended family). Sharing things that I’d created – much like the kid in this video – was a way for me to break through that initial awkwardness and jumpstart interactions with people.

That’s one of the big reasons I’m a musician. Getting on stage and playing my songs is a way to connect with people I’d be otherwise terrified to go up and speak to.

Happy holidays, everyone… however you choose to participate in them!

Influential Albums: The Dear Hunter – The Lake South, The River North – From The Mind of McFarland music blog.

I already wrote about Casey Crescenzo’s previous band, The Receiving End Of Sirens, on one of my previous “Top 20 Albums” posts, and how the band went downhill after Crescenzo’s departure to focus on The Dear Hunter. While losing Casey may have spelled the end for TREOS, for him it was not the end of him creating fantastic, and for me, influential albums. In fact, Casey’s first full-length release with The Dear Hunter is an amazing, sweeping piece of work; a concept album from a concept band that manages to be high-minded, creative, and completely listenable.

From the opening track Battesimo del Fuoco (“Baptism of Fire”), it’s immediately obvious that you’re not going to be listening to your average “here’s a whole bunch of songs we wrote, in an order that sounded nice together” kind of album. It gives the impression of an overture, the prelude to a story, which indeed it is.

The Lake South, The River North is is the first “act” in the the story of the group’s titular character (The Dear Hunter) – his birth to a prostitute, his formative years, and his eventual departure from his hometown. The whole thing sounds on paper like it should reek of pretension, but the listening experience negates that impression; it’s a joy to listen to, even disregarding the storyline that ties it all together, and the unusual arrangements and subject matter still yield songs that can stand alone on their own merit.

The Dear Hunter’s use of unexpected rhythmical patterns, swung beats and unusual instrumentations have certainly had an influence on how I write songs, and the conceptual themes that run through this, and the rest of The Dear Hunter’s albums have reminded me that’s it’s possible to have put out records with strong concepts that don’t feel overworked and overblown. And I hadn’t realized it until now, but I think a little of “The Pimp & The Priest”s rhythm may have crept into the title track of my latest record, “A Failed Breakup“.

-MMcF
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Unleaded rhythmic alt-pop fuels singer/songwriter and two-wheel troubadour Michael McFarland’s engine. Michael McFarland in the simplest summary? Writer, Rocker, Biker, Geek.

For Michael’s Music, Cd’s, Downloads, Merchandise, live show schedule, music blogs, music videos, and everything else you want to know about McFarland, visit the Michael McFarland Website at http://michaelmcfmusic.com/

Tour Soundtracks: Music and Memory – From The Mind of McFarland music blog.

One thing I love about music is how it can anchor memories. Just a few seconds of a song can trigger vivid memories for me, conjuring up images, places, and even scents. The beginning of the opening track to Summercamp Nightmare by 3 immediately takes me back to the summer after my sophomore year in college, sitting on the curb outside the Country Kitchen back in Kent, Ohio, the smell of clove smoke in the air. One of the greatest compliments I’ve had paid to my music is being told that one of my records was “the soundtrack to our road trip”.

The last two tours I’ve gone on had very distinct soundtracks for me. I did these tours on my motorcycle, with a bluetooth headset feeding GPS directions and Spotify playlists into my left ear. I started out with just a few albums on the playlist at the beginning of the first tour, and added to that playlist as I received suggestions or as the whim struck me.

You can check out the playlists for my Lighthouse tour and A Failed Breakup tour here:
#AFailedBreakupTour Playlist
#LighthouseTour Playlist

In about a week, I’ll be hitting the road for the third tour of this year – just a short one this time, five dates across Kentucky, Illinois, Ohio, and West Virginia, and I’m super excited to be joined by my good friend Salt (Check out his stuff here, as Skeleton In You) this time around.

Of course, this tour will need to have a soundtrack as well, and I’d like you to help me build it! So please, if you have any recommendations for music – new, old, whatever – that you think should be the soundtrack to this next tour, please let me know. Drop a comment below, or on my Facebook, Twitter, or Google+ pages, and help me create a new batch of memories!

-MMcF
———————-
Unleaded rhythmic alt-pop fuels singer/songwriter and two-wheel troubadour Michael McFarland’s engine. Michael McFarland in the simplest summary? Writer, Rocker, Biker, Geek.

For Michael’s Music, Cd’s, Downloads, Merchandise, live show schedule, music blogs, music videos, and everything else you want to know about McFarland, visit the Michael McFarland Website at http://michaelmcfmusic.com/