Adoption Option

ADOPTION OPTION

Floyd is available for adoption through WARL. WARL

Meet Floyd!

Hey Everypawdy, my name is Floyd! I am a lovable playful young boy. Don’t ask me how this is pawssible but I was found wandering around Leominster with a leash attached and no one was looking for me. I’m a big boy with lots of energy but I’m not all energy. I can chill, and I am crate trained. Here’s the thing (and just ask my friends here at the kennel), I’m a big, young dude trapped in a tiny kennel, seeing the same people every day. They are great people, but when someone new comes, I get a tad bit excited. I like to run and jump and sit and give paw. I love to show off to everyone who visits, in hopes that you will take me home. There is a lot more I could be doing, but I haven’t been taught yet. Would you like to be the very lucky one to teach me? And trust me, once I get all my zoomies and excitement out, I can relax and enjoy lots of rubs and loves. You people have no idea what you’re missing out on and now you have a chance to get all of this in one awesome pup! By the way, I love to play with dogs to! Please call the shelter today and ask about setting up an appointment to visit with me.

COVID-19 Protocols: The Worcester Animal Rescue League remains closed to walk-in visits with the animals and appointments must be made, in advance, to meet with any of the animals. Masks are required. Visit https://worcesterarl.org/ for more information.

‘Gathering’

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Woocitypat that adds a manic, aggressive quality at the bridge.

The question that quickly presents itself is, “What do you hold onto when everything is adrift?”

The first answer comes in “Professional.” The song, which rests heavily on a hook from Mr. Pacheco, has he and Gonz trading verses that portray a sense of professionalism being what carries the song’s personas through the haze of street violence, and more metaphorically, a life in hip-hop. The refrain, “I’m gonna let it go,” conveys a sense of acceptance, but when it moves on to the next song, “Let It Go,” that phrase also denotes releasing anger.

Indeed, the wordplay reflects the first song, where the phrase “getting lit up” can denote either intoxication or being shot. Gonz is a gifted lyricist, and it’s clear that he and his collaborators are aware of the layers of meaning throughout, and how they form subtle links from song to song.

The song “Now We Up,” which pairs Gonz with rapper Novian Wright, breaks up the vibe a bit, with images of dollars piling up being contrasted with lines such as, “I can’t focus on no other (expletive) with money on my mind.” Success is paired with struggle. Indeed, success is portrayed as being as unstable a foundation as anything else. There’s no rapper braggadocio here, an echo of the earlier, “I’m a professional.” The personas know where they’ve been, and cling to whatever they can as they move into an uncertain future. Fittingly, the next song is “Do You Believe?” It’s a self-interrogation of faith in one’s self, and in other people. There are no answers here, though, but the questions float forward with the beat.

The album comes to a surprising caesura with “Stang,” the first song in which Gonz does not make a vocal appearance. Instead, Rema Night takes the mic. The beat remains in the same palette as the rest of the album, but there’s more of a bounce here, one that well-suits Night’s swagger. There’s a clarity and assertiveness to her rap style which stands out among the fog that Gonz and his collaborators have been navigating.

Indeed, the shift of tone carries over into Gonz and Mr. Pacheco’s “Tetris,” which has Gonz declaring, “I don’t got time to be stressing/I don’t got time for depression/I don’t got time for the game/I don’t got time for your lectures.” Everything seems to be following in line, but Pacheco’s verse in the middle of the song seems to shadow the song, casting a glance backward at the chaos behind the personas. Then, in “On the Run,” the perspective shifts again as Gonz sings, “I don’t want to live like that/ waiting for a girl to come back.” What do you hold onto when everything is adrift? The song has a bittersweet feel which pulses with the dull pain of absence.

Gonz again relinquishes the mic on “With It All,” giving the stage entirely to Wright, and it’s interesting to see a lot of the album’s themes echoed in Wright’s voice: An inability to trust people, an awareness of being used, a slow-burning musical ambition. The song is, in a lot of ways, a mirror for the rest of the album, and it adds another layer of humanity to the portrait.

Indeed, when Hurt makes his first vocal appearance on the album, in the subsequent song, “Get A Bag,” there’s a sense of being somewhere entirely different from where the album began: “I woke up in the morning feeling blessed/got myself dressed/no stress/I’m about to get a bag.” The perspective has switched down to the streets again, and with it an entirely unapologetic portrayal of dealing: “Cause I want that money,” raps Hurt, “and I don’t care if they love me.”

There is a sort of clarity in the song, a sort of understanding of where one stands in the world. It is, like much else in this album, an illusion, and when the album ends with the bracing, “Don’t Look At Me Wrong,” the album’s persona finds himself again in a fog made thicker by gunfire.

In a lot of ways, it’s a dark ending, one that haunts the listener when the album ends all the way up to the last note being clipped, as if to punctuate a sudden, unexpected end.

January

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made up for what we lacked in keg parties. As a grown woman, dry living is a more solitary experience. I have to remind myself that I can still go for after-work drinks with friends and colleagues and forgo the whole drinking part.

It’s not all pain and sacrifice to impose my own dry season as an adult. Waking up fresh and hydrated with bright dewy skin is a real plus. I’d like to say I shed a few pounds, but to be honest, I’ve replaced my alcohol consumption with Ben and Jerry’s ounce for ounce — c’est la vie. My wallet is a little heavier. I look forward to my first frosty beer when all this is over, but for now, it feels empowering to exercise self-control, and more importantly, I’m proud of myself.

Are you partaking in Dry January? I’d love to hear about your experience. Find me on Instagram at @sarah_connell.