Aboard the USS Torsk
If I’m home by myself…
If Casey is out of town…
If it’s 3AM and my defenses are down…
If I happen to crack open YouTube to see if I can find a video of US Ambassador to Qatar Timmy Davis speaking Arabic…
And I glance at the recommendations below a video of Ambassador Davis speaking to a diplomacy class at Rutgers University via Zoom1…
I will tap on the hour-long guided tour of the WWII-era submarine USS Torsk.
And I’ll watch the entire thing.
And I’ll love the way the Baltimorean guide, Brian, fails to conceal his enthusiasm with nonchalance.
And I’ll feel too much sympathy when he explains that, as he’s never passed or attempted the qualifying test for the Torsk or any submarine (they each have their own crew exam), he won’t wear dolphins on his clothes, the signifier of a qualified submariner.
And I’ll shudder, over and over again, thinking about the prospect of living underseas for 75 days.
Dying by implosion.
Saving Axis victims by firing steam-powered propeller bombs at foreign sailors, maybe one out of our twenty-one chances finding a mark.
By shitting in an aluminum garbage chute.
By sleeping under red light while other people heave torpedoes with block and tackle inches below me.
You have your dolphins, Brian, at least in the eyes of this YouTube viewer.
The group that puts on these fun Cosmic Country Showcase shows in Chicago and Milwaukee just finished our Halloween installment. We played three Chicago shows at Color Club, a new experimental venue that’s also home to the Sugar Hole, a puppet-operated ice cream window. After loading in the other day, I was verklempt watching the puppet on duty wait at the ready for the next customer. Unlike a human cashier, these ice cream puppets don’t relax, doze off, scroll, or get other work done while the shop is idle. They just stand there, kinda with their head in hand, waiting for someone to walk up and engage them. I know there’s a human behind the curtain, yes, I really know how puppets work, but these puppets are real, they’re alive, and they can’t wait to meet you and serve you ice cream! It’s so damn sweet!
Everyone who puts on the Cosmic Country Showcase shows is amazing and talented, AND Mary Williamson is a mad scientist freak of art and her co-hosting with Andrew Sa always brings the show from fun to “you’ll never forget that you saw the head of a chicken sing Magnetic Fields’ ‘Chicken with its Head Cut Off’ while her chicken body flopped and clucked around the room and accosted the audience.” Must be seen to be believed.
Old Pup opened the night in Milwaukee in full mime mode. I don’t think they spoke a word during the show. They prepared cards to introduce their members, thank the club and us, and to end their set, “fin.” Say what you will about mimes, about all mimekind, I like a band that does something together and in earnest.
Now a few shows at home before Finom heads East and then Waxahatchee heads to Australia. I’m playing with my beloved friend Chet on Wednesday celebrating his single release. And I’m playing with Finom at Metro before we head out on tour, a belated album release show. (Cabeza de Chivo, a great cumbia-influenced band, opens.) Case Oats is also transforming into Real Vampire Weekend for one night only at Casey and Dana’s annual Halloween party at the Hungry Brain, but that show is only for the strong of heart, and the vampire-immune.
XO,
Spoon
This video had 300 views, and Timmy did not speak Arabic in it.
My uncle was a radioman on the Torsk on its maiden war party during WWII. He loved being a submariner
I think you may have a song somewhere in your post….
And I’ll shudder, over and over again, thinking about the prospect of living underseas for 75 days.
Dying by implosion.
Saving Axis victims by firing steam-powered propeller bombs at foreign sailors, maybe one out of our twenty-one chances finding a mark.
By shitting in an aluminum garbage chute.
By sleeping under red light while other people heave torpedoes with block and tackle inches below me.