Sometimes I really dig repetition. I find rhythm soothing and like the familiarity of things that occur with some regularity. It’s not that I want to go to the same bar every day or eat the same things again and again, it’s more of creating little traditions out of the seemingly mundane. Think Thanksgiving with a higher frequency and a much smaller commitment.
Enter my new Sunday tradition. When you have a doorman, all you have to do is wait till you hear that soft plastic muted thump at your door to know the Sunday NY Times has arrived. That’s my cue to kick things off and I love to start with Django Reinhart. It’s an old muffled and tinny recording from the 1930s, re-mastered and re-pressed maybe 20 years ago. The sound isn’t great but the romance is. I’ll put on a pot of water as Django’s epic guitar runs pour out from between this hiss and clicks of shiny black vinyl. And when my coffees ready I’ll open the Styles section read Modern Love.
It’s a guilty pleasure indulging the love stories of other writers every Sunday, but it’s one I wont deny myself. It sets the tone for my paper reading session, just like Django sets the tone for the next record — some days more jazz, some days Motown. Some days I’ll read Modern Love and nothing else, and some days I’ll bang out the whole section before pouring over Travel, and then the Magazine.
My life was changed when someone told me the reason I don’t love reading the paper is because I start with the A section, and move towards the back systematically — the news is boring. But take the paper apart prioritized and categorized by passion and art and soon enough you’ll start to crave it… that soft plastic muted thump at the door.
I’m not much of a breakfast person, but on some mornings I’ll make something. I use some Sundays to make ingredients that support other dishes like stocks, sauces and condiments. By then I’ve usually switched to Rock and Pop or something that gets me moving while I’m cooking, or cleaning, or doing laundry. But by then it’s not really tradition but more of doing whatever the hell I feel like on a Sunday. The tradition is good coffee, Django Reinhardt, and Modern Love. Every Sunday. I kinda love it.
