A few years ago, to end the day, I always needed to find the right line. Either writing here or reading something somewhere, a tiny realization would arrive. Who knew what ground it would cover — life, love, work, whatever. The realization wasn't a fix, but it was context and comfort. The search would be over. The day could stop. Sleep followed shortly.

More recently, as I've blogged here at some point, I don't feel a need to search to end the day. I have decent confidence in the next day or the day after to give answers. Not that I sleep much better, mind you. But on a night where sleep doesn't show, even when I'm not hunting for the right line or perfect note, coming across one is still wonderful.

From The Awl's "How to write a love poem" essay this week, via The Morning News feed that landed in my inbox an hour or two ago:

Poetry is pretty much whatever you want to call a poem. And poetry is more than just not-a-cartoon on a page of The New Yorker. There’s some excellent stuff out there. And you don't have to only admire what other people do; you can write poems, too, even if you’re too shy to ever show anyone. It’s not about being judged or getting a genius grant or being remembered for all eternity. Writing a poem could just be about making other people think about art for a second instead of, I don’t know, Work and Money and Troubles. The world is a little better when you believe in poetry, too. Even if you never get a genius grant, you still might get laid or loved or even liked. And you might make someone’s day. And get an invitation out for drinks. It's nice to be liked and to have poems written about you. Especially [if] the poems are interesting and alluring. How many poems dedicated to you about how great you are ended up in your inbox today? Don’t you wish there was at least one? Yeah. So do I.

In my Wilco concert take on Monday, I mentioned the new Whole Love was possibly the optimistic flip side of the dark Ghost Is Born. A bonus track from the new one's deluxe edition makes the point even better.

Listen to Speak into the Rose on this Tumblr or inside Spotify Premium. (I first heard it on regular Spotify when they left it outside the pay-wall for a day. A strategic move?) Not only is the song an instant contender for best Wilco song title ever, simultaneously evocative of noir novels, clown jokes and romance, but the sound is a pedal-down instrumental drive out of the wilderness, back from where Spiders (Kidsmoke) took us, from the woods to the highway, back to civilization, loud and clear.

Last weekend for me:

So, as you know, four years ago, a lawyer named Patrick Cooper ran for mayor of Birmingham, Ala. Fascinated by the man taking my No. 1 Google rank, I followed the race in city blogs and reported on it here.

One of my sources at the time was The Terminal – a terrific alt-media site. The Terminal's editor, André Natta, saw my linking to his site and was amused. He promptly blogged about "The other Patrick Cooper."

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When André posted, I was at the Online News Association conference in Toronto. The post made my day, and I commented. We continued to watch each other's Cooper coverage throughout the campaign. I liked the site so much I bought its "Nice to have you in Birmingham" shirt.

Lawyer Cooper eventually lost, which helped me get back my Google rank… until two years later, when Cooper ran again. I began following Birmingham's news scene again, and André weighed in, offering sage advice on which outcome would help me the most. After a tight race, Cooper lost again. A Bhamwiki page on him held Google's No. 1 spot.

Two years on, last week, I was again at the Online News Association conference, this time in Boston. The night of the conference's official start, the group I was with stopped at Meadhall bar, where Nieman Journalism Lab was hosting a happy hour upstairs. We had time and taxi issues, and we barely made it before it ended. But we found our colleagues quickly. They were chatting with people we didn't know.

As I glanced at all of the name tags, who was there but André Natta. Exactly four years after our initial linking, we'd ended up at the same conference, same bar. "Hey," I said, "I'm the other Patrick Cooper."

This digital-news world was one small, crazy, awesome world.

We got to hang out at different points on the trip and had a good time. He gave a cool talk about truly engaging with audiences during the "If I Were in Change" session, and I agreed totally. Whether from D.C. or Birmingham, you never knew when you might run into your audience.

Friend and colleague Javaun was having a problem at home. I looked on my bookshelf, found a book to loan and was able to help him work on his problem. Javaun — rightfully — "Why do you even have this?"

I'll try to keep you updated on how things work out for Javaun.

Previous posts featuring excerpts from Outwitting Squirrels:
-April 2008: Where are the baby squirrels?
-October 2004: Ever see a surprised squirrel?

When you manage development of a big digital news org's CMS, there aren't too many out-and-out wins. Most days don't go well. There are always system or process problems to solve and new ways to push on storytelling, with not nearly enough time or cash to get the work done. Just publishing this post is likely to cause some mind-hurting use case.

So, when a stranger from another company approaches a colleague of yours at the annual Online News Association conference and says the above sentences, and a dev manager — back at the office — hears of the encounter and illustrates it on the wall… getting back to work and seeing the illustration for the first time totally makes your CMS day.

Wilco has almost a tour but not yet. Last night's show at Merriweather was terrific, don't get me wrong. The Sunday night was beautiful under the pavilion's hard-working Big Ass Fans, and going to any concert with hardcore music friend fans like Jim and Meghan could never go wrong. Friends Steve, Randy, Matthew, and Mary Beth were in the crowd, too, likely among many others who will surface today, and friend Mike and the NPR Music team were streaming the show live online. And after a fun and relaxed opening from Nick Lowe, Wilco gave a real good time.

But it's always interesting to see a great band at the very beginning of a tour. After finishing the album, the band has enough time to practice the new stuff into submission and determine the basic frameworks for show setlist, pacing and mood. But that's about all the band has time for. Doing some iterating on the framework? Giving it a good vetting? Tearing it up and starting over? No time. That's what the tour is for.

So, the beginning of the show attacked us with the new album (and I like the new album a bunch, so that hit me well). The middle alternated between new stuff and older material that sought the same theme — the idea that love is confusing and messy but ultimately beautiful and so necessary: One Wing, Handshake Drugs, Box Full of Letters, and Via Chicago with all kinds of fucked-up, drum-heavy breakdowns. The end of show regressed into Being There mindlessness (awesome) rocking with Monday and Outtasite (Outta mind). We left smiling and feeling the beat, recalling different moments, early, middle and late. But centered? No. Which is a point about love the new album makes, that the center is elusive (an "almost"). But I don't think the show intended as much.

Even when the middle sought thematic wins, the starting points for the songs were all over the map. The Times said the setlist approach was staking out broad territory, and I wouldn't disagree. The growth of an empire, though — even an empire that loves you, baby — is awkward.

The natural antecedent of the new material is the Ghost Is Born album, but it's a challenge to tie them together in concert. Where Whole Love  examines the conflict of love and finds a positive answer, Ghost studies the same and finds ugliness and a painkiller-addled migraine. We only saw the lighthearted moment from Ghost last night, with Handshake's sing-a-long rock. But if the band is going to truly build around its fresh proposition and nail the show, they need to go there, and we need to give them time. Wilco's happiness comes easy these days, and the last couple tours have shown so. But this new material goes further, trying to explain this late happiness, and a two-hour explanation takes work.

Nothing fancy, but maybe my favorite string of sentences this week, from astronaut Ron Garan on re-entry: "It was neat to watch the atmosphere around the capsule turn pink. We turned backwards, fired our engines over South America, reentered the atmosphere over Africa and we were just… the extent of speed you have when you're coming back to Earth is amazing. The continents, the countries whizzing by and the flames start, sparks fly right outside your window and everything is just inches from your face on the outside of the glass."

Jad Abumrad, the co-host of Radiolab and new winner of a MacArthur genius grant, tells Nieman Journalism Lab he feels like an outsider in public radio. How he explains this feeling, I couldn't agree with more.

As much as I feel like an insider at NPR Digital after the last year and change, I'm still working on feeling — and being able to channel and connect with — the greater NPR voice. I think part of that is me, and part of that is necessary network evolution. We have to work to find ways and moods forward together. Thanks to friend Eliza for the link.

“It needs more joy. It needs more chaos. It needs more anarchy. And it needs more moods. The range of human experiences is covered and reported about on NPR, but it’s not reflected in the tone, and it’s not reflected in the style, and I think that Ira has a point when he says opinion-based journalism, if you even call it that, you know, punditizing is gaining attraction because it sounds like life. I do think that if public radio is guilty of anything, it’s that its very musical DNA has ceased to sound like life. That’s actually, on paper, a small problem, but actually, in the real world, the way it hits you when it comes out of the box, that’s a cataclysmic problem,” he said.

“Like I’m going to this conference right now and there will inevitably be two panels about, ‘How do we broaden our sound?’ and this kind of thing. And it’s always talked about as, like, Let’s dress up in our mother’s clothes,” he said. “We have gotten trapped in a certain sense of esteem, and we have a great deal of esteemed journalists and reporters and hosts. But equally important to esteem is currency and relevance, and we do need to think about that. I don’t have the answer, exactly. But I think in this day and age, that is almost as important as integrity and esteem.”

You too, Robin. For nailing 2011 in this week's return:

Ted: I used to believe in destiny. You know? I’d go to the bagel place, see a pretty girl in line, reading my favorite novel, whistling the song that’s been stuck in my head all week, and I'd think, “Wow, hey — maybe she’s the one.” Now I think, "I just know that bitch is going to take the last whole wheat everything bagel."

Robin: You’ve just been focused on work.

Ted: No. It’s more than that. I’ve stopped believing. Not in some depressed, I’m-gonna-cry-during-my-toast way. Not in a way I even noticed until tonight. It’s just, everyday, I think I believe a little less, and a little less, and a little less, and that sucks. What do I do about that, Scherbatsky?

Robin: You’re Ted Mosby. You start believing again.

Ted: In what? Destiny?

Robin: Chemistry. If you have chemistry, you only need one other thing.

Ted: What’s that?

Robin: Timing. But timing’s a bitch.