MOSH 2015

Pictured (Sunday crew, left to right) first row: Kat, Pepe, Sally, Lisa
Second row: Becca, Kiwi, Goemaat, Gabe, Ethan
Third row: Ducky, Nikki, Grefe, Tall Paul, Simon, Jake, Vinny, The Body

I don’t remember the exact conversations that took place or who said what, but I remember the sentiments: Never again. Just plain stupid. Worst tournament ever. For those that were spared the calamity of attending Mosh 2014, you have, at the very least, heard of the tournament described in such tones. As ultimate players, we have had to persevere through cold, wet, or windy tournaments. Everyone has done it, and complained about doing it, but done it nonetheless. Such is the nature of our playing a sport that is so effected by wind and weather that it can render even good teams looking feeble. Mosh 2014 was all of that, the miserable tournament to top all miserable tournaments.

And yet… we went back to Mosh. Thank god we did. 

Saturday

After a night of watching terrible/fantastic/baffling movies (with Death Bed: The Bed That Eats the obvious highlight) and nearly dying while drinking Bai Jiu, myself, Vinny, Moonshine, Simon, and the man, the myth, the legend Shen headed to the fields for the first game of the weekend. We had to make a pit-stop at Taco Bell to satisfy Simon’s breakfast crunchwrap cravings, but we arrived at Edgely otherwise unscathed. We met up with a few of the non-Dickinson pickups that we rounded out our numbers, Gabe, Jenna, and Messiah’s own Ethan Peck, and prepared for the first game against the team Shen had defected to, Big Trouble in Little China. 

The clear highlight of this game, a 13-4 win in favor of The Godfeathers, was the amount of pick-6 that was played. Up 4-3 to start the game, the Feathers weren’t really playing ultimate, instead just catching turnovers and running them back for scores. I’m not kidding, I think our first 4 points were scored in this manner. Eventually we did start playing the sport we were there for, and took a 7-4 halftime lead before running the table in the second half. A comfortable win, and Big Trouble was a fun team that invited us to a post-game spirit circle and more Bai Jiu drinking. Not that anyone wanted any more, but it was a nice touch.

Pictured: Simon and his stump

With game 1 in the bag a little early, we had time to look around at other team’s sidelines and realize that we were woefully unprepared. The St. Joe’s team behind us had one fold-up table stocked with food and drinks, and a second table for slap cup. We had… a stump? So Jake and Moonshine went off to remedy this with rum, apple cider, and Wawa Sizzlis. Unfortunately, while they were away, we struggled against our second opponent, Buttmop (the team otherwise known as Bitmap). Down 5-2, we tried to score right as Jake and co. returned to make it look like we weren’t playing like crap, but of course we didn’t. The look of frustration in Jake’s face as he returned to find us losing was best summarized by Gabe: “Jake showing up to find us losing is like dad coming home from work to find LEGO sprayed all over the floor.” Best quote of the weekend, but not our best game. Feathers fell 13-8.

Facing Call of the Wiest in game 3, we played much better, which must be attributed to increased concentration and focus resulting from our rum and apple juice cocktails. Throwing a mix of zone and man defense, we were simply the better team, generating turnovers and capitalizing off both good field position and hucks when we needed to. On the back of our second win, we rolled into our final game knowing that we could lock up the first seed in the pool with another win. In even better news, the kegs were finally tapped (who decided on that pesky 1PM tapping?). Needing a break from the rum-ciders from earlier, many of us went over to the clubhouse to get beer for the team. Beer in tow, we prepared for the last game. Facing the Fredericksburg Mothers, the Feathers built up and early lead and more or less coasted to victory. We were by far the more talented team, although we did get lazy towards the end of the game and let the Mothers win a few points back. It didn’t matter, though. We won the game and the pool, earning a first round bye Sunday morning in the process.

Due to the tournament scheduling, our pool play bye was during the last round, so while other teams were toiling away, The Godfeathers were among the first get a chance to eat the smoked pig the Millersville alums had prepared for everyone. The pig was a nice addition to the tournament’s offerings, and something I had not seen before. And so we spent some time milling about with each other and the other teams before heading out to relax for a few hours. Moonshine and I accompanied Simon to his house, where I got my ass handed to me in Mario Baseball. Around 9, we met up with many of our teammates at Vinny’s for some card games and revelry. On the way home, Simon and I decided to poison ourselves with Wawa, ordering and eating entirely too much food.  

Pictured: Saturday crew staring into the sun and some Feathers on the line.

Sunday

With a 10:30 start time, one might assume that we’d arrive on-time, rested and ready. But in true Dickinson & Friends fashion, most of the Feathers rolled up to Edgely five minutes before the game was to begin. Kat even locked her keys in her car. So a 10:30 game was out of the question. Luckily, our opponents, the Ithacettes, were coming off of an early morning win, and didn’t mind the delay. When the game mercifully began, we cruised to a 4-1 lead due to sharp defending and calm, 100% offense (and a diving catch off of a Gabe hammer by yours truly). From there, however, we started making dumb mistakes and let the Ithacettes back into the game. Jake called a timeout before half to implore everyone to regain the focus that made this game feel so easy for the first few points, but we never quite took control as emphatically. Granted, we stretched our lead in the second half and were able to take the game 15-10, but this game required us to grind out more points than we would have liked. I actually think the first few points were an accurate reflection of how much more talented we were, but we made the mistake of assuming that we could roll the whole game without, you know, putting in the effort to do so. We made this first win much more difficult than it needed to be, and knew that in order to win our semi-final game against Safety First (Garden State), we’d have to be much better.

 And we were better, thankfully. Safety First was comprised of Garden State players, and some very good players from other teams. They were fast and athletic, and capable of going on four or five point runs, as they did to come back in their previous game. This game started out tight and on-serve, with Safety First taking a 3-2 lead. We were then broken to go down 4-2 and a timeout was needed. Out of the timeout, we picked up our play and took half at 8-5. This was another game with lengthy points, with neither team generating many turnovers defensively so much as forcing them upon themselves offensively. 

Pictured: Field Captain Gutter

That three goal cushion wouldn’t last much longer, however, as Safety First rallied to tie the game at 9-9. We were leading 11-10 when soft cap came on, but proceeded to give up two in a row to trail 12-11. We tied it at 12-12, but couldn’t get the stop we needed and went into game-point receiving, down 13-12. Early hopes of working it down the field to score and tie it were diminished when we turned the disc over in our half due to a miscommunication. Forced to defend a short field, we made them throw a lot of swings between their handlers, their cutters unable to find space in the end zone. The disc made it over to the sideline, where they tried a short up-line cut into the end zone, a cut that had worked well throughout the game. But at that moment, Adam Kracht, aka The Body aka Senor Monday, made a game saving layout D. In his first game of the tournament, he made a tremendous play that gave us the disc back and propelled us to the win. We tied it at 13-13 and, on a back and forth universe point, came out on top as Ethan tossed up a huck for our final score. 14-13. Game over. Exhale. 

The final was against Scorpio (AMP, with a great Simpsons reference). Their game had ended much sooner than ours, and they had a plethora of fresh people on their sideline. Our numbers had shrunk due to injuries and some having to travel home early, and those still playing could have used more time between the tense semifinal and this game. We prepared ourselves knowing that Scorpio was a very good, very deep team, and we were not favored to win. We wanted to give it our best shot, but started out sloppy and sealed our fate by going down early. The final was not a heavily imbalanced game, and Jake did especially well to carry us, but we never recovered the ground we lost early on. Scorpio took Mosh 15-9. The Godfeathers finished 5-2 and in 2^nd place, a year after some of us “vowed” never to return.

Epilogue

What a difference a year makes. I will remember Mosh 2014 as one of the most disappointing tournaments I’ve been to. I will remember Mosh 2015 as one of the best. I think of Mosh 2014 as the beginning of what was a difficult period for me ultimate-wise. Last fall was a time of transition as I was settling in to my new life in DC and still adjusting to being out of school. I found less opportunities to play, and the opportunities I did have were challenged by elements in and out of my control. You can’t fight weather, but to have three tournaments I was looking forward to (Mosh, Fool’s Fest, and Driftwood) so crippled by bad conditions was disheartening. Throw in an injury in the early summer, and what should have been the busiest ultimate time of the year turned into a wash. Ultimate was not quite as much as fun as I remembered.

And then this past weekend happened, and every previous idea I had of Mosh and the last year was laid to rest as we had beautiful weather and played some pretty damn good ultimate. Most importantly, we had a fantastic group. The Godfeathers are, in essence and in name, a Dickinson alumni team. With an alumni team, you get all the joys of reconnecting with those you played ultimate with in college, and it shows how many of us make the effort to stay in touch despite geographical challenges. But there are also the non-Dickinson folks who join up with us. Part of the fun of The Godfeathers is welcoming new people into our circle and getting the chance to play with them. While yes, these friends are there to complete our roster, they also there because we want them to be a part of our culture. The intimacy of the Dickinson Jive Turkeys has not been lost in our post-college lives, despite having to navigate work and real-life commitments. I find that astonishing, and I am thankful for it. If outsiders feel welcomed into that, even better. Dickinson was a small school, after all.

A year removed from the tournament that seemed to begin a downward cycle, I feel a new cycle starting. I am excited to be playing again and want to do everything I can to play more. And I want to be around the people that elevate these weekends from just another tournament to one we’ll look back on fondly. Maybe next year we’ll even win this danged thing. 

Selected Highlights
-Kat’s amazing homemade apple juice
-Pick 6. Always.
-So many hammers
-Death Bed: The Bed That Eats
-Eating a pig’s eyeball (thanks Esser)
-Large sideline/coaching squad
-The Stump
-Not huddling under a rain tent for the entire weekend to prevent freezing to death

-More pictures here

Jive Turkey Dictionary: High Tide Edition!

In the original Jive Turkey Dictionary, I defined High Tide as "a debauched Spring Break trip and “BEST WEEK OF THE YEAR” where the Jive Turkeys rent a house, play Ultimate, party wildly, and try not to get evicted. In 2010 and 2014 the team had to try extra hard to not get evicted." 

As much as I stand by that definition, the dawn of High Tide 2015 (and my joining the Five Year Club) had me thinking that one cannot explain High Tide in merely 45 words. Instead, it takes greater examination of the nuances of the entire trip, from the drive down to the tournament, and from the healthy food to the healthy party habits. 

That being said, no two High Tides are alike, each one with their own idiosyncratic tendencies that make them as much fun as they are. It would be impossible to try and include so many specifics, so I've chosen terms that are either mainstays of the High Tide experience, or were so notable that they have become a part of High Tide lore. Since I obviously missed something (I always miss something), leave a friendly note in the comments telling me how awful I am at this. 

So put on your best Hawaiian shirt (the one you'll wear all week), and check out the previous installments here and here if you need to. Although you probably don't, it's not like you are missing valuable plot information or anything. 

_________________________________________________________________________________

Barbosa Rum (n.) – Knock-off Calico Jack for people south of the Mason-Dixon line. Not that Calico Jack needed a knock-off version of itself...

Beat On (phrase) – How you’ll feel at the end of the week. We are off to a good start.

Carbomb Night (n.) – An age old tradition that began with Dan Zahn's appreciation of Irish Car Bombs, and has been carried out by donations from gracious Godfeathers. Although St. Patrick's Day does not always occur during High Tide, the Jive Turkeys celebrate Thursday night by doing car bombs and getting every flavor of wasted. This is typically the drunkest night of High Tide. Don't do 11 car bombs. You'll hate yourself for it. 

Detonator (n.) – Back for another entry of the Dictionary. Detonator’s current popularity can be directly attributed to March 18, 2011, when I celebrated my birthday with Nips and Simon by learning how to smash beer cans against our heads until either the cans split or our spirit did. Five years later, only the cans have.

Drunk v. High (n.) – a High Tide tradition that pits the drunkest of drunks against the highest of er… high people in a game of ultimate. Starting Sunday morning, each person will choose their vice and give a big wave goodbye to that day’s sobriety. No one really ever knows who wins or loses, except in 2011 when everyone lost because the game wasn’t played. Fuck Marion.

Burying people in the sand is widely considered an acceptable alternative to playing

Flagger (n.) – Perpetually invited-to-High-Tide Gettysburg Dickinson alum, whose interests range from partying with people half his age (kidding) to squatting mad weight (less kidding). He is the bro who even lifts.

Fricket (n.) – The noble game of frisbee-cricket played on the beach amongst well inebriated chaps.

Fun Bucket (n.) – Who are we? Fun Bucket! What are we? Fun!

Genny Light (n.) – Genesse makes the great beer known as Genny Cream. This beer is most certainly not that, and you will most certainly drink more Genny Light than you previously thought possible during High Tide. I’d say pre-treat your liver by buying some ahead of time, but that would be an unpleasant experience for all involved.

Grilled Cheese (food) – You’re favorite drunk food (and who knows, maybe sober food) for the next week of your life. Nothing says good eating habits like Winn Dixie white bread, kraft singles and butter. Thank God we run around during the week to counteract all that drinking and gross eating.

Grits' My Life Be Like (Ooh Aah) (n.) – Legend has it that many spring breaks ago, one ultimate team dared to listen to this single by Grits for 14 consecutive hours. Predictably, spirits were broken by the 14^th hour and the song was turned off. Some say that on a windy night you can still faintly hear “Ooh Aah” drifting through St. Simon’s Island. But those are just legends. Aren’t they?! AREN’T THEY?!

Harry (Ivanovich) Driggers (n.) – Patron saint (and namesake) of the fields at St. Simon’s Island. Intrepid discoverer of the Northwest and Founder of Schmidt Brewery, the beer that shaped the great Northwest.

Hat Tournament (n.) – As the first official event of High Tide, the hat tournament functions just like any other hat tournament, taking players from random teams to make new teams that don’t really like playing with one another and just want to drink on the sideline. It behooves you to play poorly during the hat tournament, or else you’ll be there all day. You can also get waitlisted from the tournament and not have to even bother.

Jive Turkeys Went Down South (n.) – Jive's self-created anthem for Spring Break. It was written years ago, long before anyone on the current team was even college, and despite someone being asked to write a new song each year, no one has, indicating the staying power of Jive Turkeys Went Down South.  

Missions (n.) – On Sunday night, each person will receive a “mission,” which is a specific task they are encouraged to complete at some point during the week. The missions are thought up by a Missions Committee, a small team of individuals who specialize in the ridiculous. You don't have to complete your mission for the week, but if you don't you'll be victim of unending derision and mockery.  

Party Bitch (n.) – Award bestowed upon the person who passes out early and makes no effort to be any fun at all that night. Awardee’s “prize” has varied from OG Four Loko to Alcoholic Daiquiri mix over the years, and is every flavor of unwanted.

Party Champ (n.) – Award bestowed upon the person who exhibits the most exceptional party habits during the previous night of debauchery. You will be given a 40oz, and you will enjoy every sip of your malt liquor-based champion beverage.

Poolception (n.) – A pool in a pool. Requires the upfront invest of an inflatable pool, and it is highly recommended that you also have an electronic air pump, lest you want to turn the color of a ripe tomato. 

Somewhere, Hedonism Bot is shedding a single tear of joy

Right of Return (n.) – In which an abroad Jive Turkey comes back, unbeknownst to the masses, to lead the charges of raucousness and make everyone miss them all the much more when the return to their country of study. Unless you are Posey, who had to stay in the U.S. because of volcanic eruptions. Thanks Mother Nature!

Savannah (n.) – original name of Jive’s spring break because the tournament was held close enough to the city to visit. Now, when people refer to High Tide as Savannah, they either do so out of nostalgia, or because they are young, impressionable, and simply don’t know what they are talking about.

Shotgun Wedding (n.) – By admission of former Jive historian Eddie Small, one of the greatest parties he’d ever been to. Thrown by the class of 2012 at High Tide 2010, almost led to Jive getting evicted from the house and the main reason for establishing a no non-Jive policy at the High Tide house for the remainder of the tournament’s time in Georgia, and indeed in most states.  

“Song of High Tide” (phrase) – Every year it seems that without fail, there will be one party song to rule them all throughout the week. It will probably be pretty obvious by the middle of the week what the Song of High Tide is, but sometimes it takes the same song being looped for 14 hours straight to mark a clear winner.

Southern Soul (food) – Delectable BBQ joint that was commonly considered the best place to eat whilst at High Tide, not that drunk grilled cheese gives it much competition, but still. Unfortunately, due to the tournament moving north, Southern Soul will no longer be a part of the High Tide experience, meaning veteran High Tiders will wax poetic about it and probably confuse anyone who has never been.

Overrated! *Gets stabbed*

Sunrise Blunt (n.) – the reward for staying up all night at High Tide. Your faithful author has never done a sunrise blunt, and therefore cannot speculate as to what exactly goes on during one without going to deep, dark places of the human psyche that will make everyone uncomfortable.

Pictured: A sunrise, to put it bluntly

Tybee Island Iced Tea (n.) – Long Island Iced Tea with spiced rum. Terrible.

Waffle House (food) – Where dreams of eating decent food during spring break go to die. Drink the coffee, eat the shitty eggs, and shotgun the mayonnaise packets. You'll come out of it a stronger person. 

Wagon Wheel (n.) – The all-time champion of High Tide songs (and not that Darius Rucker version), soundtracking Jive’s heading down south to the land of the pine since time immemorial. Can be played at any time, but begins to feel most appropriate when you are thumbing your way through North Carolina.

Zaxby’s (food) – the best restaurant you haven’t eaten at on your way down to High Tide. It’s basically the KFC that we deserve in the north, but not the KFC we need right now.

Books!

So it took a while, but here is the sequel to last year's post about what I've been reading over the past 12+ months. I didn't read as much excellently-written fiction as I did in 2013 (ie The Secret History, The Round House) but I did find a number of very interesting books full of addictive dramas and mysteries and fantastic characters. I strayed a bit from last year's goals to read primarily Pulitzer and award-winning books and I ended up discovering some new favorites that I'll reread for years to come.

Being able to get lost in a book is an underrated privilege and in case you're looking to do some literary exploring yourself, here are several of the best things I've read in the past year. Please share any ideas for new books I could check out and please keep the criticism of my pretentiousness to yourself.


Black Moon
Kenneth Calhoun (2014)
We live in a time where apocalyptic fiction (and non-fiction) is churned out almost weekly and Kenneth Calhoun's debut novel presents a unique and fascinating take on the concept: insomnia. Black Moon follows the journeys of several protagonists in a world where fewer and fewer people can sleep. Driven by deteriorating brain function and a primal, jealous hatred of those who can still doze, the people of Earth are slowly becoming zombies. Calhoun's structure wanders a bit at times, but his excellent and surprisingly moving prose mostly covers for it. The daily gory or shocking horrors become almost pedestrian compared to the tormented memories of loss and failure. It is these regrets and the occasional cause for hope that drive the story and the characters within. It's not all misery and there are points where the book touches on the science of sleep and even several comical tangents, one prominently featuring Viagra. I can definitely say that Black Moon was one of the oddest things I read this year, and unexpectedly affecting.

The Magicians Trilogy
Lev Grossman (2009-2014)
I'd come across this trilogy numerous times when looking up the best new fantasy/sci-fi, and the best-selling series more than lived up to its reputation. Any great work of fantasy will suck the reader into a world with too many interesting possibilities to explore, and Lev Grossman's magical realms of Brakebills and Fillory do just that. This is not teen fiction, it is definitely for a more mature audience and when Quentin is introduced to magic he is also introduced to sex, booze, and tragic loss. If you read Harry Potter and thought where are the jaded smart-asses? why aren't these college-aged kids all trying to drink and sleep with each other? why aren't wizards using their powers to get rich and influence politics? why isn't anyone busting their ass to become an amazing wizard? All these very practical, real-world issues populate The Magicians, and the story is far better for it. Grossman's fiction is not fanciful, it's fantastical: a distinction I would say makes all the difference in creating these excellent, unique books. No one should be turned off by the fact that these novels deal with magic or are branded "fantasy," the trilogy stands up just fine as incredibly inventive fiction. Seriously, you should go out and find The Magicians and start it today.

Gone Girl
Gillian Flynn (2014)
I won't say much about Gone Girl other than that you should read it. At this point, I assume most everyone has seen the movie trailer and/or the movie, or heard friends talk about it in some form. This means that you can probably guess the spoilers but even if you think you know what's going to happen it doesn't take away from the quality of the book. Flynn's writing is scathing and insightful and her assessment of male-female relationships manages to be sad, funny, and wickedly delightful. You should see the movie, because it's great and so is David Fincher, but the book is full of bold twists and turns, and if nothing else it will certainly make you think (hopefully not about killing your spouse).


Hild
Nicola Griffith (2013)
An immensely immersive work of historical fiction, Hild is the imagined story of the very real St. Hilda of Whitby, a noblewoman and abbess in AD 600's Britain. I say imagined because very little is known about Hilda's life before she became an abbess other than that from an early age she attended the court of the local king Edwin and wielded considerable influence for one so young (and so female). Nicola Griffith has done an extraordinary amount of research and pieced together a story of what Hild's growth to adulthood could have been like. While there are battles and trysts, the majority of the story is simply devoted to Hild's daily life and her growing understanding of the natural world and the social power dynamics around her. In a time ruled by violence, competing religions, and men, her mother's simple mantra, "quiet mouth, bright mind," teaches Hild to listen, observe, and wield her most powerful weapon: her brain. This often puts her in conflict or distances her from her peers, yet she eventually embraces this otherness and becomes an intimidating icon in the nearby kingdoms. Griffith has a gift for language and while the material may be a bit dry at times, the prose is always gorgeous and keeps a simple story vivid and absorbing.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane
Neil Gaiman (2013)
I gushed last year about Neil Gaiman's grim and wonderfully unique American Gods, and his slender new book The Ocean at the End of the Lane excels in a similar vein. As the narrator says in a revelatory moment near the end of the novel "the reality I knew was a thin layer of icing on a great dark birthday cake writhing with grubs and nightmares and hunger.” Oof. Our story begins when the protagonist revisits his childhood home and with proximity comes a rush of memories. He recalls a battle with dark, ancient evil and the unusual but well-meaning Hempstock family at the end of the lane. We're never quite sure how much of the harrowing recollection is real or embellished but fairytales are real to children, and the emotions and terrors are never uncertain to the child experiencing them. Simultaneously managing to be well-balanced and alarmingly unsettling, Gaiman has created another gripping tale that will stay in your thoughts for weeks. I fully recommend everyone pick it up for a quick read that you won't want to put down.

p.s. pretty sure it gave Allie nightmares
 
A Drink Before the War/Darkness, Take My Hand/Gone, Baby, Gone
Dennis Lehane (1994-1998)
This summer I finally picked up a copy of Gone, Baby, Gone I'd gotten as a gift years ago and I blew through it before immediately scrambling to get my hands on the rest of the series. This outstanding six-novel set featuring detectives Patrick Kenzie and Angela Gennaro delves deep into the dark, scarred underbelly of Boston(/humanity?). Taking place primarily in the rougher, older neighborhoods of Boston, Lehane's hometown, the city is as much a character as any of the policeman, bartenders, or thugs that fill the pages. The series teems with shocking violence and rye, razor-sharp dialogue and Patrick and Angela's characters are developed so extraordinarily well that I quickly found myself embarrassingly devoted. Along with the twists and sleuthing, Lehane's stories present moral quandaries and bleak social commentary in a bitter, poignant fashion much more memorable than what you'd find in the average detective book. I picked these three books (#1, #2, #4) as my favorites in the set but really they are all great.

The Goldfinch
Donna Tartt (2013)
It takes guts to embark on an 780-page novel but The Goldfinch never got boring and in no way did it disappoint. Once I started I couldn't put it down and it wasn't until I finished the last page that it suddenly felt long, like you'd just lived a life. That life belongs to Theodore Decker, a child who loses his mother in a tragic terror attack in an art museum before growing into a troubled, neurotic man. That tragedy and the bewitching Fabritius painting he recovers from the rubble, The Goldfinch, stay with Theo for years, always hovering in the back of his mind like an addiction. When doing a little digging to see what critics thought of Donna Tartt's Pulitzer Prize-winning third book, I was surprised to find that some high art critics labeled it simplistic and the prose juvenile. I would wholeheartedly disagree and while it might not be rife with transcendent individual sentences, as a whole the meticulous detail and free-flowing internal monologue suck you into Theo's consciousness. It's a captivating story and the breadth and depth amazed me. I'm sure I'll find time to read all 780 pages again someday.

The Narrow Road to the Deep North
Richard Flanagan (2014)
This novel by Richard Flanagan is without a doubt the best thing I've read in the last year and one of the most moving pieces of literature I've ever encountered. I haven't cried during a book since Where the Red Fern Grows (RIP Old Dan & Little Ann) but I was almost moved to tears multiple times during this one. The story is that of a fictional character, Dorrigo Evans: a doctor, a soldier, and ultimately an Australian WWII POW pressed into slave labor by the Japanese. He leads men on the construction of the Death Railway between Bangkok and Rangoon, a real-life horror and one often forgotten when discussing the monstrosities of WWII. Flanagan initially pieced his story together from his father's accounts of his own time spent on the railway, and the conditions described within are truly devastating. In between pages of mud, starvation, and cholera in the jungle, we follow Dorrigo's singular romance with a woman named Amy. While some of the labor camp passages are brutal and shocking to read, Dorrigo's life away from the war is just as fascinating and heart-wrenching. I can't say enough about what a beautiful, amazing book this is and the writing is unflinching. Australian reviewer Geordie Williamson described the novel as "poetry without any pity at all," and Flanagan's visceral and immensely detailed prose glues you to the page, even at times when you wish you could pull away. If you read one piece of fiction this year, make it this masterpiece.

I Remember You
Yrsa Sigurðardóttir, trans. Philip Roughton (2010)
I haven't read many horror books since Goosebumps in elementary school, and then The Exorcist at some age that was way to young for me not have the lights on to finish it. Maybe I'm missing out. This is a gripping, scary, creepy book and after it's wild success in Sigurðardóttir's native Iceland, it's come to America, where someone has already snapped up the film rights. A group of friends head to a remote island to fix up an old cottage and it's not long before they encounter a bone-chilling haunting. That might sound like your archetypal horror plot but it's much more complex than that and perhaps I Remember You is better described as a mix of a crime narrative and a ghost story. A number of different threads concerning missing children, suicides, and spectral apparitions are woven together expertly, resulting in a supernatural, macabre mystery. Sigurðardóttir creates and expertly manipulates a sense of menace that builds to a genuine edge-of-your-seat thriller as more and more secrets unravel. It's a really fun book and a well-written, scary read if you're in the mood for that kind of thing.


I realized after I made my initial list that no non-fiction made the cut but there are a couple I'd like to recognize:


Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil: A Savannah Story
John Berendt (1995)
Many who have made a trip to Savannah, whether as part of the Jive Turkey Great Migration or otherwise, can confirm there is something magical about the city. John Berendt's classic work recounts his experiences there during the trial of a wealthy socialite accused of killing his fiery, potentially bisexual assistant/lover. Twenty pages in you'll want to visit the Spanish moss-draped boulevards of Savannah and by the conclusion you'll be just as curious and enamored as when you started. One could loosely describe the plot as a murder mystery but the heart and soul of the book are the city itself and the unusual and incredible characters that populate it.
  


 Lawrence in Arabia: War, Deceit, Imperial Folly and the Making of the Modern Middle East
Scott Anderson (2013)
A fascinating read about one of the great enigmas of the 20th century. As a kid I was amazed by Peter O'Toole in the 1962 Lawrence of Arabia and this biography focusing on T.E. Lawrence's time in the Middle East is the first I've ever read about the real man. Anderson does an excellent job providing context for Lawrence's trials by mixing in the stories of several other power players in the region and the result is a very readable but detailed microhistory. Anyone interested in Lawrence or the creation of the "modern" Middle East should check this out.

 


 In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex
Nathaniel Philbrick (1999)
Did you know that Moby Dick is loosely based on a true story? This is that true story and if you thought Moby Dick was tough to sit through: beware, but for a very different reason. Nathaniel Philbrick's narrative of the wreck and subsequent fight for survival by the crew of the Essex is one the most incredible true stories I've ever come across. It's pretty harrowing and even gruesome at times, but definitely worth the read. In retrospect this was actually one of the most fascinating things I read in 2014 and deserved more thought, but I'm tired of writing.
p.s. Chris Hemsworth is making a movie of this book, do you think they'll make it realistic and have him lose 40 pounds and eat his crew? (spoilers)


Other notes:
- Red Dragon is the best in Thomas Harris' Hannibal Lecter series, by far
- Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex (Mary Roach, 2008) is a really interesting book, and it covers pretty much everything you'd ever want to know about sex and plenty you don't. Bonus points if you read it in public
- re-read two of my all-time favorite Star Wars series this summer, and they're still awesome: The Han Solo Trilogy and the Thrawn Trilogy

Champions League Round of 16, End of Leg 1: English Woes, German Pressing

The dust from the first legs has settled. Some of the big teams are already looking beyond the second leg and onto the quarterfinals, while others don’t have the liberty of just coasting on autopilot in the return game. Oh, and then there is Arsenal who, despite finishing second in their group, were gifted – on paper – the weakest of the first place group finishers. Monaco, once bankrolled by oil billions, are now a decent team in a not-great, not-terrible league. They aren’t even in the top-3 in Ligue 1, yet Arsenal found a way to turn in a very Arsenally performance (in a bad way) and fall flat on their faces to a 3-1 defeat. At home.

Credit to Monaco where credit is surely due, they counterattacked perfectly, taking advantage of Arsenal’s penchant for tossing all their players forward in an effort to play the most beautiful, silky smooth soccer. Great to see Dimitar Berbatov get a goal. That man basically defines mercurial, but he's fantastic to watch, capable of pulling off ridiculous things with seemingly little effort. I hope he plays forever.

As it stands, things look grim for the Gunners heading to Monaco for the second leg. Arsenal will need to provide a thorough shellacking to a very stingy defense. This was the year Arsenal was supposed to advance past the round of 16. After yesterday, they clearly do not deserve to.

England’s bad week actually started with Manchester City falling 1-2 to a vastly superior Barcelona side. Barcelona unlocked the City defense early, with Suarez nabbing two goals (and no bites of Demichelis). Sure Joe Hart made saved Messi’s penalty to give City and lifeline, and sure Aguero got them a goal back, but the smart money will be on the Catalans wrapping things up at home next time out. But where is the fun in that? I expect a little chaos. City has to bolster their rep in Europe at some point, don’t they?

Elsewhere in Europe, the seemingly impossible happening between Bayer Leverkusen and Atletico Madrid: someone outbullied Simeone’s bullies. Hats off to Roger Schmidt and his extremely well-disciplined, hard-fouling players. If Atleti are bulldogs, Leverkusen were a pack of hungry Doberman Pinschers.

Leverkusen has been attracting a fair bit of attention in the Bundesliga due to their batshit, insane pressing style and tendency to shoot from the middle-of-fucking-nowhere if it suits their fancy. Both of these things suited their fancy yesterday. They pressed, fouled often, and backed Atleti into their own zone. In a harsh, tactical battle, the German side came out on top thanks to a 57^th minute goal from Hakan Çalhanoğlu. A 1-0 scoreline isn’t insurmountable by any means, and Atleti have a strong record at home, but Schmidt has to be incredibly pleased with how his side fared yesterday. Their form has been somewhat inconsistent in the league lately, but their display against last year’s Champions League runner-ups was as impressive as they have been in a long time.

Lastly, I’ll talk about Juventus v. Dortmund, a game that Juve took 2-1 thanks to solid counterattacking mixed with the types of defensive errors that have plagued Dortmund all season. Juventus didn’t feel like the home team in this one, letting Dortmund dictate the pace of the game. Clearly, they did not mind, as they recovered loose balls, flew at Dortmund’s defense, and twice put in low crosses from the left side (where RB Lukasz Piszczek started and left with an injury) that Mats Hummels casually fanned at. Weidenfeller spilled the cross for the first goal, but the second goal was a clean link up between Pogba and Morata. Could Hummels have thrown his body at either one? Maybe, but he didn’t, so this tie returns to Germany with Dortmund needing at least a 1-0 win. The away goal will be some compensation. After all, they played well against the champions of Italy who are notoriously solid defensively. In my preview I said this one would be tight, and I stand by that claim. Can The Yellow Wall propel Dortmund to victory in March? I sure as hell hope so.

First leg results:

PSG 1 – 1 Chelsea

Shakhtar 0 – 0 Bayern Munich

Schalke 0 – 2 Madrid

Basel 1 – 1 Porto

Juventus 2 – 1 Dortmund

Manchester City 1 – 2 Barcelona

Bayer Leverkusen 1 – 0 Atletico Madrid

Arsenal 3 -1 AS Monaco

Champions League Round of 16, Preview 2: More Rematches!

Do we have more Champions League games this week? You bet your ass we have more Champions League games this week. Last Wednesday’s games weren’t really all that fun to watch or write about, so I opted not to do a full recap. I do feel like I need to say something, so I’ll make this quick. Schalke 0 – 2 Madrid effectively ends that tie without Madrid looking at all dominant in the first game. The opening goal came from Schalke napping and letting Cristiano Ronaldo sky their defense for a headed goal. After that, Madrid did little to nothing, and Schalke nearly tied it up when 19-yr old Felix Platte clobbered a shot past Casillas and off the crossbar. Afterwards, Saint Iker tapped the crossbar as if to thank it for its service, then Marcelo scored a crazy goal, so leg two should be a bore for anyone but Madrid fans. Basel 1 – 1 Porto gives both sides something to play for in the next game, but I didn’t watch it and don’t feel like I know enough to comment on how this one turned out. So forget about last week, (like I’ve tried to!) because we’ve got some excellent affairs this week.

Juventus v. Borussia Dortmund

Tuesday Feb. 24, 2:45 ET

This is the game that I will be watching. 

Sure, Man City and Barcelona will be a great head-to-head rematch (!!!), with narrative, splendid goals, and diminutive forwards. If you like that, great, but I have bit more of a personal stake in the other Tuesday game, so that’s what you are going to get.

Juventus are evil. Sorry, I’m a Roma fan, so I had to get that one off of my chest.

In spite of this, I will admit that Juventus will win the league again. Serie A is too poor as a whole and Roma is in too much of a funk, and also, LOL, Roma doesn’t win titles. But if a Juventus title is an inevitability, then success in Europe sure as hell is not. Juventus have been expected to make deep runs in Europe the past few years, but they have failed to do so, and they hope that trend does not continue. They have a very good team, but their window with this group may be closing because of aging stars (Buffon and Pirlo) and the potential for significant departures (Pogba and maybe Tevez). And up against the Bianconeri is the Yellow Wall.

You see, I like Dortmund. I love Jurgen Klopp’s lunacy and his manic gegenpressing system that took the Bundesliga by storm in 2011 and 2012 when Dortmund won back to back titles. (Of course, Bayern had to spoil the fun by buying their players and becoming a ruthless killing machine, but that isn’t important here!!). Dortmund have a good team, a team that has been underperforming badly for most of the season, but they seem invigorated since the start of the Rückrunde, winning their last three games and “charging” up the table to 12^th. I’d love to see them make Europe, but what is more important is for the team to ride the high of Marco Reus’ contract extension finish strong in the league, try and make a run in the Champions League, and do better next year.

Both teams have a point to prove in this rematch of the 1997 final. For Juventus, they want to show they can beat strong sides in Europe. For Dortmund, this is a chance to salvage their season and get their talented-on-paper team to produce the results expected of them on the big stage.

These teams can entertain, too. There is a chance that Paul Pogba will do something superhuman, or that a brilliant Dortmund counterattack will lead to an ecstatic Jurgen Klopp fist pumping into oblivion on the sideline, or that Andrea Pirlo's beard will cause us all to bow down and chant "We're not worthy."

One team sits in first in their league. The other was at the bottom of theirs just a few weeks ago. That is about as misleading as it gets. I’m expecting a tight first leg in Turin, but the second leg back at the Westfalenstadion in Dortmund is where the fun should really start.

Manchester City v. Barcelona

Tuesday Feb. 24, 2:45 ET

Ah, rematch is in the air. Last year Manchester City fell to Barcelona in the knockout round of 16 before Barcelona fell to Atletico Madrid in the quarterfinals. City has struggled to gain footing in the Champions League even though they are the soccer equivalent of Mr. Moneybags. They won two of the last three Premier League titles, but success abroad has so far alluded them. Is this the year?

Well, it depends which City team shows up, and whether Barcelona keep their - until last weekend’s loss to Malaga – scintillating form going. City is stocked with stars, but their team really clicks with Yaya Toure in the lineup. Without him, the other central midfields (Fernando and Fernandinho. Not joking) just don’t offer what Toure does offensively. To be fair, few other what Toure does. He’s smart, powerful, skillful, and formerly of Barcelona (oooh! Narrative!)

Barcelona sit second in La Liga, with the attacking trident of Neymar, Luis Suarez, and Messi finding their groove at the right time (until that shock loss, which was seriously shocking). They are not perfect at the back, and their ultra attacking fullbacks might get caught out by City’s counterattack. Expect some goals in this one, goals that either display the massive skill of the players involved, or goals that stem from blunders so blunderous that you might as well soundtrack the replays with the Benny Hill theme.

Crap, I think I need to find a way to watch both these games. Good thing I have two monitors at work.

Champions League: Round 1, Recap and Previews

Lo and behold, the first games of the Champions League knockout rounds are over, and we’ve got zero winners! Well, that’s not entirely true, because despite both games ending in draws, PSG 1 -1 Chelsea and Shakhtar 0 – 0 Bayern, one team from each match will feel good about the result and the other will wonder if they could/should have done more. Amazingly, I chose to watch the game that ended up having some goals in it. Go figure! I’ll elaborate on that below, but first I’ll quickly say that Shakhtar have to be pleased to earn a draw, although they head to Allianz Arena in Munich in the next leg, so it’s not like they are favorites to advance. Xabi Alonso was shown red in a game ripe with hard fouls and numerous yellow cards. Bayern can thrill when they click, but they did anything but in this match, and I’m at peace with my decision not to watch it.

***

Chelsea went out in their traditional 4-2-3-1 formation, but Mourinho moved a few pieces around. There is little point in trying to understand why he makes the decisions he does, but today he opted to push Cesc Fabregas forward and put two holding midfielders in the hole with Matic and Ramires. Matic has been wonderful all season, covering for Fabregas and allowing the Spaniard to make dangerous passes to the advanced midfielders and striker. Putting Ramires along side him gave Chelsea a more cautious midfield, but you’d still expect a front four of Diego Costa, Cesc, Hazard, and Willian to make offensive things happen.

That’s where logic fails. Logic fails because three of Chelsea’s back four played a hand in the opening goal. Ageless and ever unlikable John Terry put a cross in, which was met with a lovely flick from Gary Cahill and finished by RB Branislav Ivanovic, who has more of a nose for the goal than most at his position.

Chelsea took the lead, but it could have been PSG in front were it not for the enormous Thibaut Courtois denying the side from the French capital. He might be the best keeper not named Neuer in the world right now, and today Chelsea were lucky to have him.

Not too lucky to avoid conceding altogether, though, as Cavani found space in the box to head home in the second half, and from then on PSG were definitely the dominant side. Chelsea were playing for the draw (this is Mourinho away from home, against a good opponent, in a two-leg affair, after all). The best chances the rest of the game belonged to PSG, and but for a few inches, they’d have gone 2-1 up. First Courtois made a huge kick save on Zlatan right before Cavani somehow nudged his effort wide after juking half of the Chelsea defense. A few inches higher for Zlatan and he scores. A few left for Cavani and he scores.

PSG should be proud of how they played, but are probably ruing their missed chances more than patting themselves on the back. As for Chelsea, they got the result they wanted, but were clearly the lesser team.

Schalke v. Real Madrid
Wednesday Feb. 18, 2:45 ET

Another day, another knockout round rematch! Thanks UEFA! Schalke were embarrassed 9-2 on aggregate by Madrid at this stage last season, but you probably should not bank on a scoreline that lopsided again this season. Schalke can be wonderful to watch, or woefully underperforming, depending on which version of the team shows up to play. They are a talented team, with Klaas Jan Huntelaar and Eric Maxis Choupo-Moting banging in goals in front of wonderkids Max Meyer, Julian Draxler, and a host of other up and comers.

They’ll need every minute of experience that their defense and midfield has to contain a Madrid team that practically scores at will. Look, I’ve thought of Madrid as a daunting but slayable beast all season. They have a multi-headed attack, but a soft underbelly that could do them in. They have no true midfield steel since letting Xabi Alonso leave and with Sami Khedira out of form, although most of La Liga are too overmatched by Madrid’s attack to do anything to expose their defense. Atletico did it two weeks ago in the derby, and I suspect that another elite European team will do so as the knockout rounds progress. Schalke is not that team, but they might score a pretty goal or two.

FC Basel v. FC Porto
Wednesday Feb. 18, 2:45 ET

This is the matchup that I profess to know the least about, but that makes me pretty interested in watching it. When Basel secured second place ahead of Liverpool, they did so knowing they’d be facing a group winner, and probably a tall task. What a surprise to find out they were to face Porto in the round of 16. Neither team should be considered likely to advance much further than the quarterfinals, but this matchup does mean that one of them has to advance, which is fun in and of itself! There will be few (maybe zero?) favorable matchups in the next round, but either Basel or Porto will have the chance to upset someone. If Schalke and Madrid turns into one-way traffic early, Basel and Porto could end up being a much more interesting matchup for the neutral

Champions League: Round of 16, Preview 1

Cue the pomp! Cue the circumstance! Cue the Heineken and the parachute-using, Whiplash-drumming of that Ruud van Nistelrooy look-alike! And figure out how the hell you will cue FoxSports1 or FoxSoccer2Go, because the UEFA Champions League returns this week! Sixteen teams have advanced from the group stages, with a few surprise clubs joining the usual cast of European characters. Eight head-to-head matchups await, some of which promise to be full of intrigue, some of which probably will not be full of intrigue, and some of which smell a little match-fixy (three rematches? Fancy me suspicious), but will be worth watching regardless.

To celebrate, I’ll be doing brief previews of the matchups, and recaps for the games I am able to watch. I can only watch one game a day, so I will inevitably pick the wrong one to watch and write about. Apologies in advance, but that is just how it is going to be.

Paris Saint-Germain v. Chelsea
Tuesday Feb. 17, 2:45 ET

The first of the knockout round rematches (get used to this narrative) pits Ligue 1 giants (and European elite wannabees) PSG against Chelsea, leaders in the Premier League and, until their 4-2 disembowelment by Bradford FC (!!!) in the FA Cup, strong contenders for four trophies this year. Nevertheless, Chelsea’s attention was always going to be turned to the league and the UCL, and they face PSG at quite an unfortunate time for the Parisians. Despite their steep payroll and team of stars, PSG hasn’t been able to gel all season, instead relying on the brilliance of Zlatan to earn them points, which for the most part he has been able to do.

But for such an expensively assembled team to be so top heavy, you have to wonder if Chelsea will plan on trying to stifle Zlatan in order to force the rest of the team to get more involved. And who will that be, you ask? Well, it’s a bit hard to say considering four players were injured this past weekend, on top of preexisting injuries. When you’ve got names like Cabaye, Marquinhos, Lucas Moura, Pastore, Matuidi, and Thiago Motta on the shelf, that has got to be a mental blow (and if you don't know those names, know that they are all rather useful, some vital). 

Yet with Zlatan, Cavani, and Thiago Silva all healthy, there is no reason to write PSG off yet, although Chelsea probably like their chances. This one could be thrilling (see PSG’s 3-2 win over Barcelona in the group stages) or a dud depending on how Chelsea approach it. No style points for all the methodical 2-0 wins the Blues have gotten in the league this year, but Mourinho shouldn’t care as long as his team progresses.

Shakhtar Donetsk v. Bayern Munich
Tuesday Feb. 17, 2:45 ET

Ukrainian powerhouse Shakhtar Donetsk get the “pleasure” of hosting Bayern Munich at “home” in the first leg. I say pleasure and home facetiously because the conflict in Ukraine has forced Shakhtar to relocate across the country. Not much of a home field advantage, that. 

Of the non-Big-5 European teams that make the UCL, Shakhtar seem to do pretty well. They can provide the elite teams with a challenge, although they probably wish they weren’t facing big, bad Bayern, who themselves are fresh off an 8-0 romp over hapless Hamburg. Bayern needed a boost going into this round, and they certainly got it with that win. They have depth for days, with quality players at every position. Even with the injuries they are dealing with, an offense boasting the likes of Lewandowski, Götze, Müller, Ribery, and an incredibly in-form Robben, must make Bayern feel confident going into this game.

Two weeks ago Wolfsburg showed the rest of Europe how to beat Bayern: absorb wave after wave of offensive pressure, and counter attack like mad by using speed to overmatch the excellent but not quick (and maybe not working well together) Xabi Alonso and Bastian Schweinsteiger. A repeat of that 4-1 game is extremely unlikely, but at least we know its possible to beat Bayern. Whether Shakhtar possess the ability to do the same remains to be seen. Maybe don’t bet on it, but if they can pull off a shock result, it’ll be a sight to behold.

***

Tomorrow I'll have a recap of whichever of these two games has a better stream (meaning I can actually watch it, thanks Fox) and I'll be previewing Wednesday's matchups of Schalke v. Real Madrid and Basel v. Porto. 

Becoming "The Greatest Generation," with The Wonder Years

View image | gettyimages.com

“I don’t want to take anything away and say they weren’t great, but I think it’s kind of fucked up saying that’s the greatest it can get and we’re okay with being who we are and just trying to get by.” 

-Dan Campbell (The Wonder Years), 

 when asked how his generation is portrayed in the media

From February 6-8, The Wonder Years played three 10^th Anniversary shows, one for each of their last three albums: The Upsides, Suburbia I’ve Given You All, and The Greatest Generation. During the final show on Sunday, the band will performed The Greatest Generation in its entirety, and I was in attendance.  The Greatest Generation is an album that, since it was released, was remained among my most listened to, and one of the only constant CDs I keep in my car. To celebrate the anniversary concerts (specifically the final one) I’ve decided to reexamine The Wonder Years’ fourth album, partly to see why it resonated with fans so much, and partly to try and explain my own obsession with it. 

Let’s start with the title, shall we? The Greatest Generation is lifted from Tom Brokaw’s 1998 book The Greatest Generation. Brokaw wrote his book to honor the men and women that grew up during the Great Depression, fought in World War II and have made invaluable contributions to society. Brokaw dubbed these men and women – the “they” in Campbell’s above quote – “the greatest generation any society has produced.” The “we” in Campbell’s quote is his own generation, my generation, and possibly yours as well: the Millennial generation. By calling their album The Greatest Generation The Wonder Years assert that Brokaw’s book holds a generational relevancy to young adults in their mid-twenties. The relevancy is that because of “the greatest generation,” and the supposed impossibility of matching their accomplishments, the Millennial generation is unmotivated and “have become content with mediocrity.”

You’d be right to call The Greatest Generation a concept album. Every aspect of it contributes to its message of striving to be a better person, a better generation, starting with the album art. Visually, the album gives us clues to its intentions before we even hear the first track. To further the “greatest generation” motif, the album cover features a black and white photograph of a young World War II soldier cropped in front of a drawing of a devil. The symbolism is straightforward – no points for correctly guessing that this is “The Devil in My Bloodstream” that plagues Campbell later. Inside the cover, the liner notes are littered with old photos of members of the greatest generation. These people are not the band members’ families – just old timey, black-and-white photos from thrift stores – nor do they need to be. The people could be anyone; here they represent everyone. Transposed over the black-and-white photos are visual motifs that show up in the song lyrics: blackbirds fly above a family (“The Devil in My Bloodstream”), bombs are pointed at a group of youths (“An American Religion FSF”), a devil joins a couple holding a pistol (duh), bombs in the shape of pills and prescription containers rain onto a group (“Dismantling Summer”), and a ghost lurks behind a young girl (“Passing Through a Screen Door”). The illustrations are ironic, they are the maladies that haunt Campbell’s generation, the personal struggles that show up in his lyrics. Only now they are drawn onto photographs of the greatest generation so they can feel how Campbell feels. It’s a clever role reversal.

The inside flap is where The Wonder Years state their goals for the album: “We’re sick of settling for good. We’re sick of calling someone else the greatest. It’s our turn to shape the world. This is our chance to push through the challenges and the setbacks and define ourselves.” Important to note: The Wonder Years are not out to slight the World War II generation. The band does not want to take away from that generation’s accomplishments. The Greatest Generation (the album) is, however, out to explain that the moniker of “the greatest generation” is problematic. The Wonder Years believe that their generation has been stagnated by pressure to match the other’s achievements. In many cases, like in “Passing” or “Funeral,” the lyrics reflect The Wonders Years’ hope that it is not too late for Millennials to change. When asked about the goals of the album, Campbell responds: “the idea of the record is that we should be striving to be the greatest generation and we should stop the battles with ourselves, and we should start pushing to be the people we wanted to be as we grew up.” How many of had dreams of growing up to be famous, or the best *insert your chosen career here* in your field? Probably almost everyone, because those dreams are essential to being young and exuberant. But just because I didn’t grow up to play a professional sport does not mean I have failed. What it means is that I need to fill that void with another goal, a goal that I might achieve this time. Striving to be great and actually earning the title are two different things, but only by hoping to be the best, not second best, can our generation overcome personal battles. Campbell sees (t)his generation as people whose dreams have been obliterated by the paralyzing realities of growing up and needing to do something with their lives. When it gets hard to figure out what that something is, we begin personal battles with depression and fear. Not the battles of a World War, but a different type of war. A war with one’s self.

That took a rather dark turn, didn’t it? I should apologize, but these are the stakes of The Greatest Generation and why it is so much more than just a catchy pop-punk record. The Wonder Years have long had a peculiar fascination with the generational. On Suburbia, Campbell opens and closes with allusions to figures from previous generations. On “Came Out Swinging” he calls he and his bandmates “this generation’s Morgan Spurlock.” On “And Now I’m Nothing” he sings “I had dreams of being the Allen Ginsberg of my generation without the talent, madness, or vision.” Each role comes with a caveat, however. In fact, all his comparisons on Suburbia come with caveats. He “won’t admit defeat,” implying to Spurlock was defeated by his challenge, but Campbell is determined to succeed. Later, he wants to be Ginsberg, but he is “without the talent, madness, or vision,” leading him to believe “it’s looking hopeless.” Welp. Talking about hitting the nail on the head; The universality of that sentiment nicely sets up The Greatest Generation, which references Brokaw’s The Greatest Generation to argue that putting such a label on one generation makes following generations feel inadequate, which leads to fear of failure and complacency. A generational malaise, if you will. But The Greatest Generation (the album) is more than just a pouty record about young adults in the 21^st century. The Wonder Years make real attempts to reconcile with their malaise. Because of that, maybe you did, too.

Time to turn to the songs. We’ll start with “Passing Through a Screen Door,” a song that, at its core, is about not having a fucking clue what you are doing in your mid-twenties and being worried by this. Oh, and in addition to wandering aimlessly through life, you’ve got the pressure of meeting the expectations of your elders. When Campbell sings “I’m conjuring ghosts on a forty hour ride home. / And they keep asking me what I’m doing with my life, / While my cousins go to bed with their wives. / I’m feeling like I’m falling behind” he imagines the ghosts of either dead family members or other members of “the greatest generation” asking him what he has accomplished with his life. As he “conjures ghosts” he also conjures expectations for himself. When will he get married? Compared to his cousins, he is “falling behind.” If being unmarried means “falling behind,” marriage would then be a means of “getting ahead,” an indicator of having grown up and become an adult.

Writing this album at 26, Campbell was almost ten years older than some of the couples in Brokaw’s book, yet he feels like less of an adult because he is afraid of marriage: “What they say about stability / It scares me sometimes.” By the end, Campbell realizes that he has been avoiding marriage when everyone else in his age group has embraced it. During the emotional climax of the song, Campbell screams “Jesus Christ. I’m 26. / All the people I graduated with / All have kids, all have wives, / All have people who care if they come home at night. / Jesus Christ - did I fuck up?” By not marrying by 26, has he missed his chance? Obviously this question confronts drastically different problems between this generation of people in their mid-to-late twenties and Brokaw’s greatest generation. At 26, Brokaw’s subjects had already grown up during the Great Depression, had gotten married, and were fighting in World War II. Brokaw’s subjects “answered the call to help save the world from the two most powerful and ruthless military machines ever assembled.” What call is ours to answer?

In many cases the call is death. Well, that’s not much of a call, but death rears its ugly head all over The Greatest Generation, specifically on “Dismantling Summer.” To start, Campbell’s grandfather is sick and ailing, and he remembers taking care of him: “I’m filling your prescriptions / The orange bottles stare me down. They are standing at attention. / An army on your windowsill.” Campbell compares the prescription bottles to soldiers: standing at attention refers to the military posture of standing upright with your arms at your side with little body movement. The bottles copy the soldier’s perfect, vertical posture, implying that his grandfather served as a soldier. Later in life, The Wonder Years’ touring displaces Campbell from his sick grandfather: “If I'm in an airport / And you're in a hospital bed / Well, then, what kind of man does that make me?” It is a shame-on-me moment, but it’s also a moment many young adults encounter. When my grandfather was ailing last year, I was ten hours away at school while he stayed bedridden. My first-hand experience says it sucks not being there. “Dismantling Summer” may be very personal for Campbell, but its message is pervasive.

Again, we are veering into pessimistic territory, but The Greatest Generation is more than a woe-is-me album. As the album moves along, we make progress, starting with “The Devil in MyBloodstream’s” final lines of “I want to be strong, but it’s not easy anymore.” But if “Devil” is the start of getting better, “I Just Want to Sell Out My Funeral” is the conclusion. Do you think it is a coincidence that the album opens with Campbell making apologies and excuses (“I’m awkward and nervous”) on “There, There,” and closes with “Funeral” and his saying fuck making excuses and just let it be? The closer is a “slideshow song,” borrowing lyrics from previous songs to thematically and lyrically encapsulate the generational malaise scattered throughout the album. Take a look at this first verse: “I spent my life weighed down by a stone heart, / Drowning in irony and settling for anything. / Somewhere down the line all the wiring went faulty. / I'm scared shitless of failure and I'm staring out at where I wanna be.” We get the failure to love, like on “Passing Through a Screen Door.” Settling for anything is reminiscent of “We Could Die Like This.” Did anyone take him seriously when he says “I want to die in the suburbs?” I sure didn’t, not when he’ll die of a “heart attack shoveling snow all alone.” Sounds terrible. Sounds like you can do better.

Lest we forget, “Funeral” is about making progress, and nothing indicates progress more than the album’s final verse. The coda mixes new and recycled lyrics from earlier on the album to demonstrate Campbell finally moving away from his complacency and his depression:

Two blackbirds on a highway sign

Are laughing at me here with my wings clipped. 
I'm staring up at the sky but the bombs keep fucking falling. 
There's no devil on my shoulder;

He's got a rocking chair on my front porch but I won't let him in. 
No, I won't let him in;

'Cause I'm sick of seeing ghosts and I know how it's all gonna end. 
There's no triumph waiting; there's no sunset to ride off in.
We all want to be great men and there's nothing romantic about it.
I just want to know that I did all I could with what I was given.

All of the album’s visual motifs are here, from the blackbirds to the bombs, to the devil to the ghosts. Only this time the devil and ghosts, the depression, the fear of failure and the weight of expectation, are all outsiders. “I won’t let him in” could be a call-to-arms akin to “I’m not sad anymore,” a signal of overcoming your “devil.” By closing with “We all want to be great men and there’s nothing romantic about it” the song is saying that wanting to be better, to overcome depression or disillusionment, should be an inherent desire in everyone. The desire to improve need not be considered fanciful, but a fundamental part of living. It’s anthemic, it’s exhilarating, and it was incredible hearing this verse live in a crowd full of people; people who believe that it is indeed their time to be great, that, yes, we are tired of settling for good. Will it be easy? No, but it never was, not for our grandparents’ generation, or our parents’ generation, and it won’t be for our generation either. But The Greatest Generation tells us we can do it.