{"id":2805,"date":"2017-05-22T06:28:28","date_gmt":"2017-05-22T13:28:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/?p=2805"},"modified":"2020-06-22T08:59:40","modified_gmt":"2020-06-22T15:59:40","slug":"aimee-mann-ray-faux-writer-alaska-highway","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/meditations\/aimee-mann-ray-faux-writer-alaska-highway\/","title":{"rendered":"Aimee Mann, Ray and a Faux Writer on the Alaska Highway"},"content":{"rendered":"

I was perusing the LA Times<\/em> online in my writing studio when I came across mention of a new record by Aimee Mann. Of course I\u2019ll never hear it because I don\u2019t download music and record stores have gone extinct in rural areas across the land. Perhaps I could hear a cut or two from the new release on a website or Pandora. Who knows? I hadn\u2019t thought about Aimee Mann\u2019s music in many years, but reading the review returned me to a golden time when her music, actually one album, accompanied me on one of the more perilous and pretentious journeys of my life\u2014driving the Alaska Highway.<\/p>\n

In the summer of 2001, right before America took a terrible turn, I drove a pickup camper north from the Oregon Coast with the intention of seeing the Arctic Sea, forging an identity as a Jack London-esque writer, and exploding into the region\u2019s literary scene with stories and essays that would blow away the pampered, effete MFA crowd.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>Of course my vehicular inspiration was Steinbeck\u2019s Travels with Charley<\/em> and thus I brought along my trusty canine sidekick Ray, while my wife at the time, Cindy, took care of sonny the husky, at home.<\/p>\n

The idea was to drive, camp out, write, repeat. See the Last Frontier. Meet its crazies, see moose and wolves. Pan the story gold. Become a writer.<\/p>\n

As it turned out, Ray and I drove roughly 6000 miles in little over a month, averaging 30-40 mph on the worst potholed and dangerous roads I\u2019ve ever driven. As it turned out, I never wrote a single word on the trip. I was too exhausted after 12-14 hours days of driving. I never saw the Arctic Sea. I quit 200 miles short. I did see a moose. I did see a man walking the highway in loafers and carrying a briefcase. It was snowing at the time, at 6000 feet, in August.<\/p>\n

Later, I wrote a 5000-word short story, \u201cIn Dubious Camper\u201d about the adventure but could never get it published. I think writing this story was more of an exercise of teaching myself how not to become a writer<\/em>. It later paid off.<\/p>\n

During that 6000-mile journey, I listened to Aimee Mann\u2019s Bachelor No. 2, <\/em>released in 2000, <\/em>at least five times a day and I really can\u2019t remember why I inaugurated that routine. I had never done that before with a record and haven\u2019t done it since.<\/p>\n

I memorized all the lyrics, all Aimee\u2019s vocal inflections, and would often sing along in the middle of nowhere where a breakdown would have been certain disaster. Ray used to watch me when I sang. He looked at me like I was losing my mind. I think I was. But I had him and Aimee with me and we made it home alive.<\/p>\n

I sold the camper a month or two later. I never played Bachelor No. 2 <\/em>again…until a couple of days ago after reading the article. Frankly, I am surprised I still had it considering I got rid of most of my CDs during my recent terrible hospice care of my former self. Somehow it survived the purge. (Exile on Main Street<\/em> did not and I miss that record these days.)<\/p>\n

Listening to the album some 16 years later was a curious sensation. It took me right back on the highway, right there with my great old dog, the first of my coastal pack, the yearning to become a writer and the folly of that particular approach in becoming one. What was it about her songs that so mesmerized me in the midst of such desolate and overwhelming nature. I still can\u2019t pin it down. It might have simply been her indelible soft voice in concert with the cadence of the bumpy road. I will never know. Music is like that to me. I don\u2019t try to hard to figure it out.<\/p>\n

If you\u2019ve never heard this record, you might want to check it out. There is something still haunting and enlightening in there, at least for me, and I suspect for others. My favorite songs are:<\/p>\n

Red Vines<\/p>\n

Susan<\/p>\n

How Am I Different<\/p>\n

Calling it Quits<\/p>\n

You Do<\/p>\n

(If you found this post enjoyable, thought provoking or enlightening, please consider supporting a writer hard at work by making a financial contribution to this blog or by purchasing an NSP book.)<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n\n

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I was perusing the LA Times online in my writing studio when I came across mention of a new record by Aimee Mann. Of course I\u2019ll never hear it because I don\u2019t download music and record stores have gone extinct in rural areas across the land. Perhaps I could hear a cut or two from […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2806,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,28],"tags":[181,183,40,185,184,7],"class_list":["post-2805","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-meditations","category-writing","tag-aimee-mann","tag-alaska-highway","tag-dogs","tag-travels-with-charley","tag-truck-camper","tag-writing","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2805","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2805"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2805\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2809,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2805\/revisions\/2809"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2806"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2805"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2805"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2805"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}