Matthew Bittersweet

I was all alone this week because Sharon was at Guantanamo enjoying warm weather and not enjoying the simulacrum of justice there. Despite the government’s best efforts, Guantanamo is like reverse Vegas: What happens in Guantanamo never stays in Guantanamo, and Sharon’s observations are coming soon to the internet. In a nice twist, I’ll continue to hold down the fort next week when Sharon goes to the actual Vegas, where I’m sure I won’t learn what takes place.

Even though we will have elected to end torture next Tuesday, our work will not be done, so we are busy plotting our next steps. I have posted a couple blogs, including this one, which links to a very very nice article about the forum we held in UVA last week.

Elisa was unable to go to the Matthew Sweet concert, and this led to the disturbing news that many of you are too young to remember the 1990s. Remember plaid? And tapered jeans? What I’m saying is there were a lot of terrible things in the 90s, and one thing that wasn’t was Matthew Sweet, who sang these nice jangly power pop songs, which like all really nice pop songs have a melancholy undercurrent underpinning the exuberant melodies. Remember Girlfriend? Sick of Myself? I’ve Been Waiting? Next thing you’ll tell me is that you don’t remember this song by the Lemonheads. Thanks for being CEO of memory lane, Elisa.

You know what this season is really good for? Walking around outside with a hot cup of coffee. Coffee shops seem so cozy this time of year, and the to-go cup is a fine way to carry that cozyness out into the brisk cold. It is simply so much better than the summer equivalent of sipping something iced through a straw, a scenario in which your drink is way more watery and gone faster than you wanted, and the condensation on the outside of the cup is excessive.

You know what else? My friend Don reports from the IAMS Cat Championship. You’ve got to be kitten me.

Betsy, yesterday Eric commented on you as a manager, and I was glad that was a part of our celebration, because truly we all look at CAH, and we see a family – and you made it so. But I am going to amend Eric’s characterization, and say that in you, your team has a teacher: you have the energy, enthusiasm, empathy, and ability to translate the complicated into the comprehensible, of a great one.

Michael, thank you for being my friend and champion, for letting me into your life, for always having a smile, for listening always, for being the most considerate person in the world. You are our professional savior, but it is your humanity I will miss the most. There’s no one else like you.

Autumn Songs: After all that 90s exuberance, let’s bring down the lights with this song, Landslide, that makes me sad in a beautiful way, and is in some ways more autumnal that all the rousing earth-tonesy 70s hits I have played before.