One of the greatest things Frannie and I have in common is that we get the chills from music -- typically at the exact same time, triggered by the same musical... something.
For me it starts at the back of my neck, and if it's really good, it spreads all over my back, head, and chest -- if it's really really good I end up with tears in my eyes. I get it the most from vocal solos and tight harmonies, in particular R&B, gospel, and certain musicals.
It'll happen and the two of us will look at each other and be like, wow.
Apparently this is not just a random thing, but there is actually a lot of science to it. I never really looked into it until today, but it even has a name: Frission, or more colloquially, a "skin orgasm". Here is a good overview of the phenomenon, and here is a ton of assembled academic research on it. There is even a subreddit devoted to it.
I experienced it this morning on my train ride into NYC, and of course immediately thought to blog about it and include a clip that attempted to communicate it. As I read more about, a few things stood out: first, not everyone experiences it -- estimates vary but somewhere around half of people feel some sort of frission response that can include chills, welling throat, tears, etc. Second, the experience is not just about music but also about meaning -- often times particularly sad passages cause the experience (eliciting a deep-seated survival instinct), so it often requires at least some conscious or sub-conscious attention to lyrics. And third: musical context matters -- it is often the result of a musical build-up over the course of a song, and an isolated passage on its own might not have the same effect.
Given all that as setup, here is the one that got me today. The closing number from The Greatest Showman (which happens to be my daughter's favorite album right now, so is playing constantly in our house). The part from 3:18 to the end is the kicker, but it's probably best to start from the beginning to get the whole build.
Best with good headphones, loud. Curious to know if others get it too. Enjoy!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iW2FUY3N-n0
Last week I was playing ping pong with Zander and the topic of conversation (naturally) turned to canal skating in Ottawa. You see, in Ottawa during the wintertime, the city’s canals freeze over and they turn into temporary frozen streets. As you can see above, Ottawans turn to using them for their daily activities, like taking their kids to school. Imagine taking your kids to school on ice skates! I was saying that I thought this was so cool, and Zander accused me of “being a hipster who just likes things that are different”. While I do like things that are different and interesting, this is not an ironic interest in canadian urban ice skating. What I love so much about this is that it’s doing a fun activity in a totally natural and non-contrived context. For example:
Hockey in a skating rink: contrived. Hockey on a pond: awesome. Skating to work: unbelievable.
“Going for a bike ride”: lame. Riding your bike to run errands and get around town: awesome.
Taking a boat ride: ok. Riding a boat to get somewhere (like the Fire Island water taxi, or the “buses” in Venice): amazing. Driving your own boat to get to work: rockstar (and that doesn’t at all require a fancy boat).
I am sure there are lots of others that I’m not thinking of right now. If I were a gun owner, I’d probably feel the same way about shooting on a gun range vs. hunting in the wild (or packing heat).
There is something about doing an activity in the normal course of your day, and in its natural environment, that makes it so much better. And there is something about completely fabricated environments that can feel so lame or even sad (and also high pressure because of the dedicated focus). I suppose I can tie this back to my preference for mixed-use urban environments, vs. more separated, dedicated-use contrived ones. It’s possible to say that finding and doing such things has been a lifelong interest for me — though I’ve never really articulated it directly. Maybe it’s some kind of yearning for authenticity, maybe it’s about freedom vs. constraints & control. Anyway, I think I am onto something here and will be on the lookout for other examples. // photo from bugbog.com
Happy MLK Day everyone. I just spent the last half hour reading MLK’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail. To be totally honest, I don’t think I’ve ever read it in its entirety before. It is incredibly powerful and moving. I encourage anyone reading this to take some time with it today. I pulled a few quotes here. King’s letter makes the case — in exceedingly eloquent and persuasive terms — for nonviolent direct action in the face of injustice. And discusses the historical precedent and moral imperative for distinguishing between just and unjust laws (including a framework for drawing that distinction), and for disobeying unjust laws. It hammers home the point that we can’t blindly accept “the law” if we don’t take into account the context in which it was created or the morality and justice of the ends it seeks. Part of the beauty of it is the guided tour of the history of changemaking, conflict and progress that Dr. King takes us on — all the way from Socrates, to the Boston Tea Party and the American Revolution, to the Holocaust, to of course the Civil Rights movement. It’s kind of incredible the extent to which we have to learn and re-learn the dynamics of societal norms and the process by which we arrive at and live under the rule of law. At the heart of the letter is tension between a moderate “take it slow” approach (embodied at the time by the white southern church, whose leaders the letter was addressed to) and more extreme “force change now” approach (embodied at the time by Elijah Muhammed’s Muslim movement). King’s articulation of the rationale for a measured and pure — yet intentionally impatient — nonviolent approach is incredibly thoughtful and reasoned. It’s part inspiration and part how-to for anyone working to create positive change in the face of resistance from the status quo. I can’t equate the civil rights movement with the digital rights movement, and I won’t do that here. But that is the corner of the activism world that I sit in, so it’s the lens that I’m reading this through. And I can’t help but think about the passing of Aaron Swartz, and the path he charted in the pursuit of social justice, as I read Dr. King’s words. So many of the conversations I’ve been having this past week have revolved around this question of how we view and respond to acts of civil disobedience. More importantly, I want to use today to reflect on both the (incredible yet entirely incomplete) progress that we’ve been able achieve as a nation since 1963 when this letter was written, and the profound and powerful moral foundation for change that Dr. King’s letter provides.