The Kansas In Him

Goodbye, blogger! I'm moving on to the world of the self-hosted...my website is finished and it includes a new blog at this address:  http://www.mattbeckmann.net/blog.

Hello, new website:  http://www.mattbeckmann.net

Now is the time that you update your RSS feed, because i'm not going to do that for you. Don't be shy, you're going to like my new home.

And with that, The Kansas In Him is no more.

All anyone is talking about or thinking about this morning is last night's final episode of LOST.  I am one of those people.  Everything good and bad has been said, and there looks to be an equal divide among critics and fans.

Oh, and for those of you (alyssa) who haven't seen the final episode or even any of the sixth season, i'm going to do the impossible - review the end of LOST without spoilers. Read on, ye weary souls.

I'm just as divided as the critics and fans.  My gutteral reaction to the two and a half hour bonanza finale is that, based on pure emotion, it delivered.  The final episode had by far the most sincere emotion of the whole season, and, sadly, that was met with an overwhelming amount of cliche.  At times I felt like I was putting the words in their mouths--they brought the noise, but phoned in the dialogue.  For me the real problem with The End was not the episode itself, it was the sixth season as a whole.  They didn't explain everything, and you got the feeling that in the last hour, extended a few weeks ago to add 30 minutes, was an attempt to make up for all of the wasted episodes in season six.  I understand the intentional ambiguity, and I appreciate that it is an integral part of the show, but building the tension up so high and then pandering for whole episodes at a time was a great disappointment.

There's not much else I can say without spoilers.  I'm still affected by "The End," so that's it.
Now I understand why Peter and Brendan (not to mention Matt, Alison and sir James Bauman) kept me up all those nights in college.

We all have friends that we wish we talked to more.  Friends we think about all the time, who are genuinely an important part of our lives.  But we never talk to them.  After a seemingly arbitrary, yet tangible amount of time, you cross the threshold of "hi, how are you?" to "damn, I haven't talked to you in FOREVER!"

Once you pass that point, there's no going back.  The longer you wait to call, the more awkward it gets, the less you actually have to talk about.  You can't just pick up where you left off six months ago, and you can't fill them in on every detail.  It's a cruel cycle.  So what do you do?  Give the most important events and whatever else you can, while trying not to have a 2 hour phone conversation.  Then you vow to talk more often.  Then you don't talk for another six months.  Trust me, i'm good at this.

Right now, the blog is no different.  I want to write in it, but I am in a state of paralysis; I haven't written in so long, I don't know how to start again.  I guess I should follow the same protocol as before.

Oh Hi, internet!  Thanks for calling.  It's been too long.  Yes, I know, i'm not the best at keeping in touch, but I promise i'll be better.  Sorry, I can't really talk now.  Can I call you tomorrow?  Great. See you then.

So i'm watching the men's 5000M relay. That is a crazy sport. I especially like that instead of a baton, you push your teammate's butt to get them going.  It's just one big melee of men in foam helmets and unitards and butt-shoving.  In High School I struggled with the inherent contradiction of being a musician and a quasi-jock.  My music friends thought sports and my jock friends were stupid, and my jock friends thought that music was dumb and my music friends were nerdy.  In a way, everyone was right, and I was always wrong.

I was thinking about this this afternoon as I stopped practicing to watch the USA/Finland hockey game (which was, praise Jesus, on television).  Now as i'm watching speed skating, another thought came to me: what if, instead of Apolo Ohno and J. R. Celski, we had Luigi Nono and Giacinto Scelsi? I bet they would have a hard time going around in a circle 43 times. On the other hand, I bet their version of Summon the Heroes would be AWESOME.

Yep, that's all. Another failed reconciliation of sports and music.
Friends, commence eye rolling.

David Soyer, former cellist of the Guarneri String Quartet, passed away yesterday.  He was 87.  In 2001 he left the Guarneris after 37 years, and, as the group's only personnel change, was replaced by his protege Peter Wiley.  It is hard to describe the impact that Mr. Soyer had on the music world as it is today; not only do cellists mourn, but all lovers of classical music share in the void left by his passing. As a teacher, he left an indelible impression on 45 years' worth of cellists at The Curtis Institute in Philadelphia and virtually all of the successful string quartets in existence today through his long association with the Marlboro Music Festival of Marlboro, VT.  Follow the link to hear a 2009 performance at Marlboro of Schubert's Piano Trio No. 2, given by pianist Mitsuko Uchida, violinist Soovin Kim and Soyer.   He was one of the last remaining direct links to the great cellists Emmanuel Feuermann and Pablo Casals.

His mark was different than that left by the late Rostropovich, and perhaps it was more important, more organic.  Rostropovich inspired young cellists to stick out their chest, hold their head high, and play with the confidence that only he could muster.  Mr. Soyer's influence came on a deeper level.  There comes a point in every musician's life when they discover chamber music.  It's less of a discovery than a revelation that the apex of our craft is the ability to communicate with other musicians, and the formation of a singular musical idea, when executed, is transcendent.  This is what Mr. Soyer taught, showed, and lived.  As young cellists makes this discovery, they eventually come upon Beethoven's sixteen String Quartets, and, thirty years later, the Guarneri's recording is still the gold standard.  The powerful, deep sound of the quartet was built on Soyer's bass, and that sound influenced generations of quartets to come.  There isn't a single cellist who has stepped onstage to play Op. 59 No. 1 that hasn't heard or emulated, consciously or not, Soyer's sound.

The only performance of his that I was lucky enough to attend was one of his last.  Late in May 2009 he joined the Quartet for a performance of Schubert's String Quintet in C Major at the Met Museum, as the Quartet's last public performance in New York.  I have seen the Guarneris before, and their Op. 127 was no different: powerful, communicative and sincere.  But as the five of them took the stage for the second half, I knew something was different.  I was one of one hundred or so extra patrons who were seated on the stage, and you could feel the energy, the assurance of the group as they sat down.  I have never felt in a performance so strongly of the conviction and, above all, the communication of the five.  As they finished and took their bows (of which there were many) you could sense from both the audience and the quartet that nobody wanted to leave; you missed them, and him, before the applause even stopped.

It's snowing hard here in Brooklyn.  I like that.

I spent the last week in Miami Beach, playing with the New World Symphony, America's Orchestral Academy.  It was sunny and 80 degrees just about every day, and I even went to the beach (more than once!). Also in Miami last week was the Super Bowl.  Hard to say which had a greater impact on the economy of Miami Beach: me, eating out 3 meals a day, or the Super Bowl, hosting thousands of obnoxious Saints fans screaming "WHO DAT?!?!" every five minutes.  I don't know who "dat" is, but I guess they didn't find out either, since they never stopped yelling.

The NWS program was Berlioz Op. 3 Overture to "les Franc-juges," John Adams Violin Concerto, and Stravinsky's ballet Petroushka. Conducting was Ludovic Morlot, a young little frenchman who reveled in the overt frenchiness of the program: bustling Petrouchka, and an entirely forgettable Berlioz Overture.  Oh yeah, and that violin concerto.

The overture was at least fun to play; what it lacks in melodic content and his later feats of clever instrumentation it makes up for in it's honesty.  Even though it's bad Berlioz, it's still Berlioz.  Energetic, bouncy and full of life.  One week was enough of that piece.  Glad i'm not part of the unfortunate Opera Company who will undoubtedly uncover the manuscript and decide to stage the opera, realizing after the fact that some things are best left unsaid.
I'm not always a fan of John Adams' music, i'll freely admit.  But the Violin Concerto wasn't so bad, and  Jennifer Koh played the hell out of this piece.  I enjoy Adams' forays into sliding harmonies and chromaticism much more than his rhythmic variation on one chord, and the concerto featured more of the former, much to my delight.  It was nothing less than virtuosic, and I was very impressed with the orchestra's technical command and assurance (reduced strings gave me the luxury of listening, not playing, and spending a bit more time on the beach).

Petrouchka is one of my favorite pieces, and during rehearsals, it was hard not to draw parallels with Stravinsky's St. Petersburg and Miami Beach during super bowl week.  Every morning when I left the hotel I thought I was stepping out into the shrovetide fair...Miami had everything.  The charlatan, the coachmen, the gypsies and rake vendor, a ballerina, the moor, and my favorite, the peasant with bear.  You can read it first here: my debut as a director will be to assemble characters straight from Miami Beach and stage an updated version of Petrouchka, with Kim Kardashian as the Ballerina, Reggie Bush as Petrouchka, and a special guest appearance of Sean Combs/Puff Daddy/P-Diddy/Diddy as the Moor.

Peter Gelb, if you're reading this, i'm available.

I had a great time visiting some old friends and making some new ones.  It's no secret that NWS is so successful, and I was grateful to get a little taste of that.  I don't think I could stomach an entire year down there with the endless summer, but it's great for a week.  And it'll be even better with a new hall, courtesy of Frank Gehry and, to a lesser degree, my big brother, acoustical consultant of the STAR(chitect)s.

Here's a few highlights from my week down there.



 I looked long and hard for Chris Berman, but all I found was Scott VanPelt and Warren Sapp. Oh well.


The beach is nice and all, but I much prefer NYC with 8 inches of snow, thank you very much.

Barack Obama has been POTUS for one year and one day.  Hooray!!!!!!
It's been a rocky year, and i've tried to stay optimistic about it all, which is becoming harder and harder.
Through all this, especially with the results of the MA Senate race of this week, a lot of big questions have come up unanswered.
The reasons why I am still largely in support of BO are many:

• We have a President who does not endorse torture as a National policy
• Our President and his administration has a great respect for science and intellect
• Our President makes thoughtful decisions, about real problems, often in the face of political suicide
• The international opinion of the USA has shot through the roof
• Failed stimulus or not, he stalled a second Great Depression, which, in case you forgot, was brought on by the previous administration.

Wait a second...

For those of you keeping score, it's been the new year for 19 days, and I haven't blogged in much longer than that.
What gives? I've been doing lots of cello playing and everything, and sometimes I get into these ruts where I block out the rest of life and go on in a trance practicing and eating and sleeping and whatnot.  I'm waking up, and I think i'll start writing on this more.  So i've made some new year's resolutions, a bit late, but in earnest.

First and foremost, I'm going to keep in better touch with my friends.  If you're reading this, friend, don't be alarmed when I call. I do feel guilty, but it's the good kind of guilt.  I have so many amazing people that i've been so lucky to have as friends it's pathetic how terrible I am at staying in touch.  This was made apparent to me when I saw dear old Peter Lynn (visit his blog here) a few weeks back.  Haven't seen him in years.  No reason for that.

Next, I really have to start taking advantage of the city where I live.  After being back in Kansas City for the holidays (which was awesome, btw) and Waco for the first time (also awesome), people asked how I liked living in NYC.  I spent a lot of time talking about how great NYC is, but then I thought about it and realized that I don't really experience the city to it's fullest, and i'm not going to live here forever.  But wait!  Part of this resolution includes this blog!!  In an attempt to take advantage of this fair city, i've given myself a challenge of creating more opportunities to photograph things, and to write about them.  There it is. We'll see what happens.

Last, the obligatory exercise resolution.  I really should do that more.  It's not like I don't have the time. It's just that i'm lazy.  Alyssa got a Wii (with wii fitness plus) for christmas, and that might help dispel the laziness if i can pass off video games for exercise.

Enough with the New Year's resolutions.  As i've been writing this, Ted Kennedy's senate seat has been given, with the permission of a majority of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, to Scott Brown, a little-known, little-knowing republican who ran solely on the premise of stopping legislation that became Kennedy's life's work.  Brown isn't proposing some kind of new regulation or ideas or something smart; the only thing he has is a number.  Senator No. 41, stopping health care with just his existence.
Massachusetts, you should be ashamed.  Just because Curt Schilling and Cliff from Cheers like Brown doesn't mean he'll do any bit of good for anybody.  The most poignant irony is that Mass. has a health care system that resembles most closely a single payer system, and the people that voted for Brown are the ones who benefit most from it.  We've been confounded by Massachusetts before (insert Dukakis joke here), but I thought they were better than that.  Maybe it's time to be a Yankees fan.

Recently i've been reading "Silence," a collection of writings and lectures of John Cage, the American avant-garde composer.  Both the title and subtitle come from Cage's well-known "Lecture on Nothing," first delivered in 1950.  Cage's most widely known work is 4'33'', the culmination, if not the epitome of his thought that any sound, or silence, is music.  4'33'' is his most controversial as there is no sound; only silence, hence the title of the book.  As I get further through his lectures, etc. i'll give more about Cage.  But for now, there's some context.

The full quotation from "Lecture on Nothing" reads:

Remember those two plane tickets which disappeared from my bank statement yesterday?
well, they reappeared. turns out I don't know the system all that well. The lady I talked to on the BofA customer service hotline was very nice and explained that, for whatever reason, when you buy something from an Airline, Hotel, or Rental Car company, the initial charge posts, then disappears, then posts again when the company from which you purchased processes the receipt. News to me.

So now i've started the task of fighting US Airways for my money back.  I've filed a complaint with their regular ho-hum phone people, and, unsatisfied, demanded the number of their corporate office. I've called twice and left two messages.  I'm not ready to let this go just yet; i'm probably not going to get my money back, but yelling at corporate america is one of my favorite methods of catharsis, especially during the holidays.

Today i'm going to build things, if Oscar doesn't mind. He seems to like the tape measure.

I think it's fitting that this post, for reasons which will soon become obvious, takes place in the Charlotte Airport, where, out a big window, I can see the Bank of America corporate headquarters.

Lots of weird things have happened to me in the past 36 hours as I auditioned for the Charlotte Symphony. Full Disclosure: I didn't win. The audition was semi-disappointing, and I have a lot to take away from that. The 45 minutes spent as a part of the audition process yesterday were an anomaly in the pseudo twilight-zone "is this real or am I in a cheap cellist's horror movie" that has been running since Sunday night.

Live update: 8:43 AM: I'm now getting laughed at (literally--they're both laughing out loud) by two people next to me in the terminal because a flight attendant walked by me and gave me the "you're taking THAT on the plane?!?!" look.  I'm trying not  to cry.

So on Sunday night, I make damn well sure that the apartment is safe for the cat to be alone for almost 2 days.  It tells you something about a person when their apartment is cleanest when the only inhabitant will be a cat.  Everything is going fine at the airport until the lady at the US AIRWAYS counter starts to put my cello, packed well with a disaster-proof travel case, onto the conveyor belt.  I quickly stop her and say "Hey wait! That's a fragile musical instrument! Could you have someone come up and take it to the plane by hand?" to which she responds, "This is a CELLO? We have a problem."

Indeed, we have a problem.  on US AIRWAYS, you can't check a musical instrument. After much bickering with the gate agents, I succumb to what is the only feasible option to buy a ticket for the cello and travel case.

Full Disclosure: I didn't look very closely at their baggage policies before I bought this flight. It is, ultimately, my fault.

I try my best to tell the US AIRWAYS people that my cello in a flight case is NOT going to fit into a seat.  They think otherwise.  I get onto the plane, which is an express jet. I can't even fit in the seat, and I bend at the knees.  Thank God it was an empty flight, and it could take up 2 seats next to me, sans seat cushions.

Unanticipated charges, as of 11/22/09, 9:45 PM: $409.

I get to the hotel and the concierge informs me that I have only booked one night through Orbitz, which is not the case.  I tell her this. She tells me to calm down. It's been a long day.  I give her my credit card, and say that i'll deal with that in the morning, after my audition.

I sleep, I get up, I practice, I play, I do not advance. That's the way it goes. It's only my second audition, so i'm trying not to be so discouraged.  I talked to a guy who was 20 years my senior who has been doing it for that much longer. It's a hard journey, but it'll be worth it.

Monday afternoon I go to a coffee shop and check my email and, somewhat reluctantly, my bank statement. New charge of $196 from the hotel.  Turns out I have to pay for that extra night after all. I consult Orbitz, and go back to the hotel, guns blazing. I might win this one. She'll let me know, and takes my contact info.

Unanticipated charges, 11/23/09 3:45 PM: $605

Morning comes, and there's an envelope under my door. It's my room charges. Another $165, for god knows what. I stayed two nights, they think I stay for 6. This one I do win. Gone, instantly.  It's the little victories.
So now i'm at the airport, armed and ready to do battle with US AIRWAYS over my extra charges. I am prepared with their baggage policy, that states the following:


Musical instruments

Musical instruments are considered a fragile item. Fragile items will be accepted as checked baggage if they are appropriately packaged in a container/case designed for shipping such items. Fragile items without appropriate packaging will be accepted upon the execution of a release furnished by US Airways relieving US Airways of liability for loss/damage of checked baggage.

Musical instruments are permitted as carry-on baggage as long as they can be safely stowed and have dimensions no greater than 75 in/190 cm (length + width + height).

US Airways allows customers to carry their musical instrument in the cabin with them if the instrument exceeds the size restrictions for carry-on baggage and/or the customer believes that the instrument is too fragile to be handled as checked baggage. To do this:

• The customer must purchase an extra seat for the instrument. Cost of the seat is the applicable adult fare for the portions of the flight that the extra seat is requested plus sales tax.
• The musical instrument must be secured in or against a window seat (not in an Emergency Exit Row).
• The customer must be seated in the seat directly next to the instrument.
• Seat baggage must not weigh more than 170 lbs/77 kg and must meet the size restrictions based on aircraft type.
• Cellos and bass violas will only be accepted as seat baggage.

As I read it, I can check my cello, because it's packed well. As they read it, I can't, because it is a cello. Apparently a cello or bass viola is not a musical instrument.  The above checking guidelines only apply to "guitars or something" as the US AIRWAYS agent so eloquently told me. I resign my quest. I go through security. That's where I am now.

The best thing about the Charlotte airport is free wi-fi!!! Thanks, google. it's their holiday gift. I check my email and again, reluctantly, my bank statement.  All of those charges have mysteriously disappeared. The hotel charges, the plane tickets, everything. I log out and log in a few times, still gone. I just logged in now, 45 minutes later. still gone. what gives?  Maybe the Gods of the BofA corporate HQ decided to turn their act around, or someone felt sorry for me (i've been getting a lot of pitied looks this morning) because I don't play the flute.
Full Disclosure: The TSA guy this morning said I should have played the flute. no joke.

So here I sit, 9:09 AM, about to board the flight back to NYC. One last adventure awaits, getting a big ol' flight case in an itty-bitty passenger seat.
Anyway, don't get me wrong.  Travelling with a cello is a hassle, but it's worth the hassle any day to be able to spend every other day making music.

I've been out of school for 6 months now.  I went back to Boston earlier this week for a lesson and to grab some things from my old house, and I figure this is a good time for a progress report.

Subject: Studio Cello
Instructor: Self
Grade: C+

Being out of school is much harder than I thought it would be.  My idyllic post-grad school freelance life included the occasional (or more than occasional) gig and a vast expanse of free time taken up by focused and diligent practice purely for the sake of self-improvement and learning repertoire I want to learn.  As it turns out, that's not the case.  I thought this would be easier.  I've spent a lot of time rationalizing this, and the most popular excuse is that I needed some time to detox from the intensity and expectation of the last 4 or 6 years.  I think it's time for detox to be over.

The truth is, I need audition experience.  I'm going to Charlotte in a week, and i'm not all that prepared or psyched up about the audition.  I have a week left to prepare and make the best of it, because when an audition comes up that I feel strongly about, I want to know how i'm going to react.  It's been frustrating forcing myself to practice excerpts and the Dvorak/Bach combo for the last month while i'd rather be learning fun stuff like Lutoslawski or Zimmermann or Berio.  The balance has not been found yet between excerpts and "fun music" but I think i'm starting to realize that I need both to excel at either.  Going to Boston was a big help for me to realize this; I had a lesson with my old teacher and I needed that wake-up call.  I had gotten lazy with the basics and I already feel much more confident that i'm listening more closely to myself and actively participating in my praciticing!!!!
Sheesh. Enough shop talk.

Subject: Home Economics
Instructor: Oscar
Grade: A
I'm pretty good at playing with the cat and cleaning up after him.  We have a vacuum now with makes his fits in the litter box easier to manage.  Also i'm pretty good at using the crock pot. Who knew?
Basically, i'm training for a career as a stay-at-home dad.

Subject: Personal Finance
Instructor: iWork '09
Grade: B
I know exactly how much money I spend and what I spend it on. Awesome.
I also know exactly how much money I make and how long it takes for me to make that money go *poof.*  Slightly less than awesome.

Well, that was uplifting for me in a depressing sort of way.  Maybe playing scales will make me feel better.

I've been thinking about this topic for a long time and i'll admit I'm having trouble forming coherent thoughts.  It would be nice if I could just create some kind of direct link from my brain to the internet so that my consciousness wouldn't have to be the middle man here.  Straight from brain to blog. Other people do it, obviously--why can't I?  Maybe it's just because I'm new at this. I'll try and be patient. On to matters at hand.
The current political climate worries me.

John McCain emerged from the 2008 Republican primaries as the Maverick candidate, the rightful heir to the conservative throne.  He wasn't exactly the next Reagan, but he was an honest, solid conservative candidate.  To be fair, then-President Bush didn't give him a whole lot to work with. His maverick-ness was played up a lot, especially with the super-maverick decision to pick Sarah Palin, the ultimate she-maverick, as his running mate.

As we all know, common sense and prevailed and Maverick/She-Maverick slinked into obscurity and let hope and ideas and all other things good flood the news cycle.  That lasted until the she-maverick decided she was too mavericky to be tied down by doing the public service to which she was elected.  McCain went back to the senate, serving his country in the best way that he can.  He's not in the news much anymore.
Sarah Palin has emerged as one of the faces of the Republican party, suggesting that the to be a good conservative, all you have to do is say that liberals are bad and wrong and are destroying America.  This kind of rhetoric is drifting from the fringe to the center of current Republican ideology, and that scares me.

The new combative voices of the party are not only stirring up harsh anti-Obama/democrat sentiments, but they're dividing their own party.  Where does this leave moderate conservatives, the supposed base? I have friends who are conservative and they are too smart and reasonable to buy into the Beck/Palin/Limbaugh "rhetoric," so where do they turn?  This did not go well for them in the apparently insignificant 23rd district of New York, where the Fox News Party decided to flex it's muscles and forced a moderate republican out of the race only to cede the district to a Democrat for the first time since the 19th century.

Are the events of upstate New York are a fluke, or if this is what we can come to expect from the Republican party?  As of yet, they don't really have any concrete ideas or values, and if the Obama's approval ratings keep falling, they might gain some seats in the midterm elections.  Hopefully those seats will go to conservatives with real ideas and initiative.  If not, the presence of more Republicans whose only goal is to get in the way of democratic legislation will grind the US Government to a halt.

I sincerely hope that the new conservative party that emerges is one prepared for real political and intellectual discourse for the betterment of our country.  Without a solid opposition and the possibility for discussion and thoughtful debate, the Obama presidency will be wasted.  An administration as intelligent and gifted as we have now will likely not be seen for another generation at least, and a Senate incapable of passing any bill because of pithy Republican whining is a depressing thought.  The sweeping affirmation of the new political climate in America is exhilarating; even if the Obama honeymoon is over, it's still a much much better place than it was a year ago.  With the new rise of liberalism and the general shift of the country to the left, this is a defining moment for the conservative movement and the Republican party.  It can be salvaged, and it's worth the effort.

Today's topic is coffee.  Growing up, my parents drank a lot of coffee.  My dad (a violin maker) probably went through 2 full pots a day at the height of it, and my mom (a violinist) had a few cups throughout the day.  When my brother (once a violinist, now an architect/engineer/acoustician/gourmet) started drinking coffee I thought it was the strangest thing.  It took me a long time to warm up to it; in high school it revolted me and I could hardly believe that my dad drank so much of the toxic sludge. In college, even, I was suspicious of this thing that even my friends drank and made into a social occasion. I would go with, but never buy.

AND THEN, about halfway through my college career, I tried it.

It wasn't exactly love at first slurp, but my first tastes of college cafeteria day-old coffee made me wonder why I didn't try this magical drink earlier.  I suddenly had no trouble at all finishing a paper at 4AM...my ideas were even good!  I could practice longer, harder, with more results!! This coffee thing was starting to take off.

It's gone through several stages: the "folgers is awesome so i'll drink 20 cups with my dad's 70's thermos" phase while practicing for grad school auditions, the "i'm too good for starbucks across the street so i'll drink a few cups in the morning and that's all" during actual grad school.  Now i'm in the unfortunate phase of "i'm too poor to have coffee out at all," so the one time a month I get coffee not from Costco had better be good.

And today was good.

I haven't been all that impressed with New York as a "coffee town" in the same way as Seattle, Portland, or even my own Kansas City.  Gorilla Coffee in Park Slope is good coffee, but the espresso was bitter and, actually, not all that strong.  Today we (Alyssa and I) ventured back to her former neighborhood of the East Village to give 9th St. Espresso a try.  It was out of the way and a long, chilly (read: underdressed) walk from the L, but worth it in all respects.  The minimalist take on the coffeeshop was comforting. The chalkboard sign listed only 3 or 4 drinks, and there were no options, no additions. What you see is what you get.  Taking away the power of choice and over-specialization of drink orders to the customer makes it easy for everyone.  The soccer moms who demand 10 pumps of caramel in their macchiato need not apply, and I feel good ordering a plain old macchiato.  Anyway, down to business.  I had a macchiato (as per usual) with 3 shots (that's all you get; no more, no less) and that was one helluva drink.  I've never drank one so fast nor have I wanted to get another (I opted not, as 6 shots at 6PM doesn't usually go well).  If only it were not a 45 min. train ride away. Sigh.

So this new coffee phase is good so far.  I'm looking forward to exploring new and hopefully many more  places like 9th St.

I've been thinking about starting a blog for a while. Yet, i've been plagued by a few questions.