Saturday Morning Links

1. This was pretty great. Beau Miles, this dude in Australia, decided to just eat his body weight in beans. As he states it, 191 tins of beans over 40 days. Nothing but beans. And even better, he took the labeling off of the tins so he never knew what he was going to get. The culmination of this was Miles running an ultramarathon powered by beans. Beans.

2. I won’t post this after this week unless something absolutely gets my attention. Marc Rebillet is a musician. A really talented musician, but not in the traditional sense. I gather he can play the piano, but he sits in his apartment with a keyboard and some other things (I’m pretty ignorant when it comes to this stuff, so I’m calling them things). He’s originally from Dallas, but became famous recently as he takes his one-man show on the road and he’s insanely popular. He’s wild-assed and is prone to say unnecessary curse words (or maybe they are totally necessary), but he’s also incredibly touching. This ain’t for everyone, but it is for me in doses for sure. And maybe the part that I appreciate more than anything else is how talented you have to be to be able to do this on the fly.

3. What happens when you just want to go run in the mountains, but you’re told that it’s private property? I don’t have this problem, and this is something that is somewhat unique to the U.S. where there are no “right to roam” laws, that allow people to just go roam or hike (of course there’s a trust involved with the people who go walk your land, they are just walking or running and don’t mess with anything). OutsideOnline’s Jonathan Severy details the issues his neighbors take with his trail running. Of course, there’s also the thought that private property is private property for a reason and the potential for litigation is the driving factor (and maybe just not wanting people on your land) for keeping people off of your property.

4. I am a sucker for this sort of stuff. Every time. Via Sidetracked – Guardians of Ua Huka. What a beautiful corner of the planet.

5. Foo Fighter’s Dave Grohl in The Atlantic is a good read.

Not to brag, but I think I’ve had the best seat in the house for 25 years. Because I do see you. I see you pressed against the cold front rails. I see you air-drumming along to your favorite songs in the distant rafters. I see you lifted above the crowd and carried to the stage for a glorious swan dive back into its sweaty embrace. I see your homemade signs and your vintage T-shirts. I hear your laughter and your screams and I see your tears. I have seen you yawn (yeah, you), and I’ve watched you pass out drunk in your seat. I’ve seen you in hurricane-force winds, in 100-degree heat, in subzero temperatures. I have even seen some of you grow older and become parents, now with your children’s Day-Glo protective headphones bouncing on your shoulders. And each night when I tell our lighting engineer to “Light ’em up!,” I do so because I need that room to shrink, and to join with you as one under the harsh, fluorescent glow.

In today’s world of fear and unease and social distancing, it’s hard to imagine sharing experiences like these ever again. I don’t know when it will be safe to return to singing arm in arm at the top of our lungs, hearts racing, bodies moving, souls bursting with life. But I do know that we will do it again, because we have to. It’s not a choice. We’re human. We need moments that reassure us that we are not alone. That we are understood. That we are imperfect. And, most important, that we need each other. I have shared my music, my words, my life with the people who come to our shows. And they have shared their voices with me. Without that audience—that screaming, sweating audience—my songs would only be sound. But together, we are instruments in a sonic cathedral, one that we build together night after night. And one that we will surely build again.

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