Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

krisis

Krisis has been creating Crushing Krisis since 2000, writing songs since 1996, and reading comics since 1991. He is a Customer Success and Digital Brand Strategy executive, serial organizer, parent, and feminist, among other things. Based in Philly through 2017, he now resides in Wellington, NZ.

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I often forget he exists in the same relative universe to mine, but occasionally i am reminded. We haven’t talked for a few months now, since work and Eagles playoff games got in the way of us seeing Lord of the Rings. Eventually he gave up on calling and i gave up on waiting. Nothing new to us, really.

On a quick break from audio samples going live i stole over to the phone to confirm the reservations for dinner tonight, and when i gave my name the voice on the other line exclaimed “The Pete [redacted]” to which i kindly replied that, no, i was the Peter [redacted] and that Pete happened to be my father. The voice gave a good natured chuckle and confirmed my reservations, asking afterwards if i’d be coming with The Pete.

“No, just the one of me.”

He assured me they’d be on high alert nonetheless.


I am reminded of my father in the strangest ways.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2002/04/85002133/

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Nevermind that i own all of her albums. Nevermind that i essentially learned to play guitar by listening to her live cd. Nevermind that last night was the sixth time i’ve seen her in concert in as many years. Just forget about all of it. All that matters, really, is Nava sending me home with a cassette tape called Out Of Range and me sliding into my mother’s stereo and rewinding it.

First songs are first songs for a reason; they are meant to catch your attention and to keep you listening. Of course, every song on an album should do that, but first songs should be engaging even upon a first listen. “Buildings and Bridges” was that exactly – i didn’t really fall in love with it, but i wasn’t disinterested either. It was what came next, though, that got my attention.


Without much hyperbole, “Out of Range” changed my life, and i could feel it physically the first time i heard it. It wasn’t just in my ears, but in my heart, my stomach, and on the tip of my tongue and fingers. One woman and one acoustic guitar literally changed everything and i remember wrapping my mind around every one of those dozen songs just as well as i remember standing in the ‘D’ section at Tower Records staring intently at the cover of Dilate as it beckoned to me — even as i already had OoR in my hand.

The first time i saw Ani DiFranco she was opening for Bob Dylan, ostensibly touring behind her critically applauded live release Living In Clip. There’s no such thing as touring behind a record for Ani, really … it’s just one neverending tour that occasionally overlaps with the release of a record. Point being, she didn’t necessarily play LiC songs, or any other songs for that matter. Without looking up the set list, i can say with some certainty that she only played a single song from Out of Range, and even though i only owned three of her albums at that point i didn’t mind the set list at all.

Four other Ani concerts later, and i had still never heard “Out of Range” live; she had played it for entire weeks leading up to a Philly show, but never at a show i attended. I didn’t expect to hear it last night; she had already played another song from the album, and it was nearly the end of her set. I knew, though, at the moment she thrashed through the series of opening chords.

And, hands pressed over my mouth as if they were suppressing the scream that was welling up from the core of me, i wept. Wept, and silently mouthed the words and stared at the flash of her hands on the neck of the guitar. And wept.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2002/04/75242016/

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I have to walk down Walnut between forty-fourth and fortieth every day; there’s really no way around it. Anywhere that i need to go is on the other side of fortieth street – school, work, transportation, and people. The trip down those four blocks is inevitable, and it greets me on any day that i dare to venture off of forty-fourth street.

The sidewalk between forty-second and forty-third is all gray slate on one side, great rectangular slabs of it all puzzled out to make a proper sidewalk. At its edges it gives way to concrete curbs on one side and front steps on the other — the concrete looking brutish against the calmly worn surface of the slabs. There are several pieces of the slate near the middle of the block that have buckled and cracked … from the wear of the years, i supposed.

The other day i crossed forty-second street on the south side of Walnut to find myself trailing a slowly moving truck. It was a pickup, large enough to do proper battle with an SUV, red dusted with grime that had survived the last day’s rain. I found myself trailing it because it was rolling down the slate sidewalk ever so slowly, and i could almost hear the rain gray slabs groaning in protest. I would, too.

The truck came to a stop halfway down the block, and as the oblivious men in coveralls stepped down from the cab my eyes fell upon the massive tires of their gleaming metal beast, and how all of the cracked panels that usually caught my eye were positioned in close proximity to them. The passengers of the vehicle seemed familiar with the weathered house they approached, greeting the man on its steps. Apparently, it wasn’t unusual for them to park there.

I was about to rail against their disrespect of what probably constitutes a historic fixture on their block just because they were too lazy to park farther away and then carry what they needed, but then i remembered that we had driven the massive yellow U-Haul truck right up to the sad front lawn of Ross’s house in August and how we nearly knocked the traffic light down while backing out due to my imperfect navigational skills.

No respect, i thought, and kept on walking.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2002/04/75130672/

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Hi. I love my sidebar links dearly, yes i do. I also love the various SurvivorBlog and PuppetMaster alum who i read regularly despite my lack of linky love to them. However, i definitely need a few alternate reads … either your own blog that you don’t think i visit very often, or super-quality sites that it seems like i’m missing (with few exceptions: if i’ve never linked them and they aren’t on the sidebar, i don’t read them). So, fire away!

https://crushingkrisis.com/2002/04/375072258/