the pool party

*watch on youtube*

kirk looks back on a fire-spinning good time from a few weeks ago, when an unexpected invitation to a pool party brought a fresh perspective thanks to some new friends. #poolparty #flowart #firespinning #friendship #storytelling #dance #music #house #techno #goodtimes #weirdos

music by kirk himself with licensed contributions from ryan klos via sound stripe. special thanks to jessica, billy gunnz, hannah, mike, adam, shleigh, vito, kayla, leah and los tres perros for the love and acceptance.

atita links!

Transcript

What’s up everybody?

Today is Tuesday, June 15th, 2021.

This is A TALK IN THE ATTIC, and I’m your host Kirk Ross.

How’s everybody doing? ……….. Wait, how are YOU doing?

Thank you so much for your continued support… whether you’re listening or watching, I appreciate your sustained commitment to my vision. 

The numbers these days generally favor the listening audience, which makes sense. Podcasting is an audio medium, after all. 

That said, I hope you’ll check out the official A TALK IN THE ATTIC YouTube channel, a link to which you’ll find in the shownotes. 

Creative video production has long been a passion of mine, and this project has afforded me the opportunity to dive back into that side of my brain.

I cannot reiterate enough how fun it has been to not only to dive back into something I did as a kid, but perhaps more importantly: how fun it’s been learning new subjects too. 

And today’s episode is going to focus on this idea of NEWNESS. We’re going to dive into the renewed hope in humanity that many of us are recognizing now that we’re merging back into our normal lives. 

I’m going to express my gratitude for an amazing group of friends we’ve only recently become acquainted with. 

Today’s episode is designed as a standalone audio episode, as always, but I should note that if you’ve ever wanted to watch an episode instead of listen, this is the one. 

Unless, of course, you don’t have an interest in watching free-spirited people express themselves in whatever way they choose, without concern for what onlookers might say. 

I’m talking about SPINNING FIRE, people! 

You heard me: spinning fire. As in humans rhythmically moving various apparatuses set aflame. 

Like I said, it’s a good one to watch. 

Before we get into it, I’d like to thank HILTON for the theme song up top. HILTON’s latest episode just dropped last Friday. Check it out to get a feel for just how talented a guitarist HiLTON is. 

Also, I’d like to remind everyone that if you’re in the need for a variable-height desk to visit TheStandingDesk.com, a Grand-Rapids based enterprise that uses German components. American-born with German parts? Sounds a lot like me, doesn’t it?

Lastly, big ups to Cento Anni in Holland, MI, where they build custom tables and other fine-crafted wooden furniture and accessories. I would urge you to go check out their showroom on 7th Ave in Downtown Holland, where you can check out some sample product and see their event space, which is just as happy that the COVID era is ending as anyone. Thanks, Cento Anni!

With that, and with the help of my first attempt at producing a house/ techno song, LET’S START THE SHOW.

KIRK’S HOUSE MIX

A few weeks ago, fresh off the news that my cousin David had lost his battle with the coronavirus, which as most of you already know came just a few weeks after our dear friend Alex’s unexpected passing, I was feeling as low as I’ve felt in years. 

Unlike in past periods like this, Jessica was here with me. First off, what an incredible difference that makes. Secondly, thanks J-Bird. YOu’re the best. 

Even with her presence and support, I was experiencing grief from multiple angles. 

The show had screeched to a halt, interrupting my consistent output that I am so committed to providing you. 

I wasn’t getting out in the sun much. Wasn’t really communicating with many people. 

A lot of my time was spent remembering sweet Alex and resilient David during this phase, which is healthy and necessary but can also throw one into a redundant and seemingly never-ending cycle of emotions. 

When a loved one dies, we tend to see signs of everywhere they’re NOT…now that we know we can no longer see them where they WERE. 

For me, I’d see something that reminded me of Alex or David, which would begin a symphony of memories, mostly smile-inducing ones, which would often precede tremendous sadness that no more new memories will come. 

Then there’s the guilt of how I handled each relationship. It’s not an overwhelming sense of guilt, but there are certainly things that I would do different if I could go back. 

I wish I would have been more present in my cousin’s life when he was incarcerated, a 10-year chunk in which I largely abandoned him. He made something himself while locked up - finding his spirit and earning multiple degrees - and maybe that was only made possible because he was so alone in there, but I should have been there for him. 

For Alex, I should have checked in on his sobriety more than I had. Shouldn’t have let him slide the last couple times we’d talked, when I started to suspect he was struggling. 

These are the repetitive thoughts that had me feeling down. 

But then we got invited to a pool party…and what a difference it has made!

>>COMMENCING POOL PARTY FOOTAGE IN 3…2…1….<<

**CANNONBALL! Ahhhhh, jackknife! SPLASH**

Jessica’s brother, huge supporter of the show, and surely one of my best friends, William, aka Billy Gunnz, was in town when we received the invite from our friend Hannah. 

Hannah was our only connection to this particular Pool Party, which means we would be outsiders at this shindig. 

We’ve discussed this before, I know, but it’s fun to be outsiders at parties sometimes. It allows you to act like a conversational free agent, if you’re involved in a bad one, you can simply sneak off to another pod and check in there. 

You can observe the social dynamics without the bias and baggage that comes with deeply-intertwined friend groups from the past. 

Perhaps as big a deal as any: you can present yourself the way you ARE today, complete with all the lessons you’ve learned from past mistakes, and that’s it. 

I was a little tense when we first arrived at the house, nestled in a quaint cul de sac about 15 miles west Grand Rapids. 

This tension alleviated relatively quickly when before we were even in the back yard we could hear the sweet sounds of the four-on-the-floor kick drum pattern that serves as the beat in various house and techno music genres. 

With each sequential drum beat, my nerves settled, my heart relaxed, I felt lighter…and this was before we even entered the gate around back. 

MUSIC - MUSIC - MUSIC

The party welcoming committee was just as priceless as the tunes: when we opened the gate, two adorable and one might say, ECCENTRIC Chiuauas greeted us.

There were only a handful of guests - probably a total of 10 all day - but it’s about quality over quantity, right? 

You know sometimes you’re in a conversation, or in a room, or in line at the store, with somebody that’s putting off some negative vibes?

You try your hardest to ignore the negativity, but it won’t go away? Well there was exactly zero of that in this backyard. 

One section of the backyard was populated by a few holi-hoopers dancing rhythmically to the music. 

The pool had a few swimmers in it. 

And the DJ tent was loaded up with a 2-deck MIDI controller and hundreds of watts out Mackey speaker output. 

A third and equally adorable dog was having with his main man-slash-DJ.

We were immediately welcomed by the host and all of the other guests. There was not a single moment of that awkward feeling out behavior. 

There were not disapproving glances from our new acquaintances. 

We just felt love. It sounds corny, I know, but it was palpable. 

Our new friends love music. They love nature. They love good food. They love dancing. They love love. 

And what a refreshing thing to be around. 

I could feel the good vibes washing over me, removing the patina of anxiety that had grown over me over the year of isolation and the month of grief. 

We danced and talked and laughed and smiled and all while being nothing but ourselves. There was no pretense. No bullshit. Just love. 

And as we were basking in the sunshine, and the music, and the newfound friendship, I looked around, I saw Alex in so many of them. I saw David in them. 

And it was though this transformative experience of love that my grief softened, and remembered what I’d learned during previous periods of grief: that we don’t die. 

We all live on in the collective conscience. We live in through nature. Through the cardinals that call that backyard pool area home. Through the love and appreciation for and within those still physically breathing.

And all it took for this lesson to really hit home was the love and acceptance of this new group of friends. This new group of fellow weirdos, where respecting your true self and those around you is all that matters.

I hope you’re all finding some love and support as we wade out from our wooly cotton brains of coronavirus and into the real world again. I hope, like me, you’re seeing that while Fox News and CNN might have had us convinced that the world has never been in more dire straights, the opposite is actually true. 

It’s up to us to live the way we want the world to be. And I just wanted to thank my friends - old AND new -  for driving this message home so profoundly. 

Much love, y’all. 

PEACE OUT EVERYBODY.