The other day there was a British scientist speaking about the miraculous properties of stainless steel, of which I'd never heard before. He explained how these properties were discovered accidentally, by a man looking for a better way to prevent corrosion in gun barrels. Long story short, he discovered that by adding chromium to the mixture he was able to solve his dilemma. The most fascinating thing about all of this is learning that, with the right amount of chromium coating the steel alloy and the appropriate level of oxygen, stainless steel can actually regenerate. When you put a stainless steel fork or spoon in your mouth, and your teeth tick into the utensil with your bite, it exposes the metal to the air, but before your next bite, the chromium fills in the blemish and the spoon or fork is safeguarded once again. It's an amazing line of defense to have. Unfortunately, people don't have what forks and spoons have. We aren't coated in chromium, BUT we're still no less regenerative when it comes to wounds and major pains. We have to work much harder to come back from the big blows. We find that we let ourselves slip too often. We self-medicate or we just say, "Fuck it," for long periods of time. We can be hard to soothe, as it pertains to relationships and life pains that are hard to understand. There's a need for consolation, but we tend to dismiss it as weakness, or giving it. We try to power through with ugly, selfish tactics sometimes and we often pay the price. Christopher Porterfield, of the Wisconsin band Field Report, wrote a collection of songs that sums many of these complexes up, in beautiful strokes. "Marigolden" is a triumph of a record, a true beauty that makes you believe in the regenerative spirit of all human beings. They can get awfully messy and horribly broken at times, but damn if they can't compose themselves when they want to. Damn if they can't will themselves into being better people. All it usually takes is someone, or other someones to be better for. Our lives -- singular -- are only vaguely important, but those who we touch with our lives might not see it the same way and once you throw a whole bunch of these connected lives into a room, and the love is brightly obvious, we can be good. Maybe even forever.