TWO THOUSAND AND NINE
It struck me a few weeks ago that I can no longer really tell 1995 from 2005. Time is starting to bend back around like a sled rail, and the years are beginning to loop.
So welcome 2009. Or 1999. Or 1989. Whatever.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
FF 2008
So, Pitchfork gave album of the year to Fleet Foxes.
I like foxes. They're cute.
I like fleet. The adjective. Not the naval formation or the enema so much.
But Fleet Foxes kind of bore me. Like The Band or honking something.
I can't claim to have a cinemascopic view of 2008, but I'm going to stick with Nouns by No Age as my top pick...
So, Pitchfork gave album of the year to Fleet Foxes.
I like foxes. They're cute.
I like fleet. The adjective. Not the naval formation or the enema so much.
But Fleet Foxes kind of bore me. Like The Band or honking something.
I can't claim to have a cinemascopic view of 2008, but I'm going to stick with Nouns by No Age as my top pick...
Thursday, December 18, 2008
TRAILER-LA-LA-LA
Um, yeah, OK. So it turns out the “dudes getting' facials” song was not actually Gay-Porn Country.
I had to do some digging to figure this out, though.
See, the singer's name is Brad Paisley. Which is really a perfect name for a Gay-Porn Country star, when you get right down to it.
The title of the song? “I'm Still a Guy.” Again, Gay-Porn Country gold.
But then the rest of the lyrics give it away. I mean, here's the opening couplet:
“When you see a deer you see Bambi,
And I see antlers up on the wall.”
So it appears this is from the more familiar Dumbfuck White-Trash Redneck Country genre.
Apologies for the mixup, y'all.
Um, yeah, OK. So it turns out the “dudes getting' facials” song was not actually Gay-Porn Country.
I had to do some digging to figure this out, though.
See, the singer's name is Brad Paisley. Which is really a perfect name for a Gay-Porn Country star, when you get right down to it.
The title of the song? “I'm Still a Guy.” Again, Gay-Porn Country gold.
But then the rest of the lyrics give it away. I mean, here's the opening couplet:
“When you see a deer you see Bambi,
And I see antlers up on the wall.”
So it appears this is from the more familiar Dumbfuck White-Trash Redneck Country genre.
Apologies for the mixup, y'all.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
MINI PEARLS
I was one lane over from a white pickup truck yesterday, when I heard this blarin’ from a cracked window: “There’s dudes gettin’ facials…”
The light changed before I could hear any more than this g-droppin’ snippet.
But my wonderin’ ears were delighted to have happened upon a genre that I ain’t never encountered before: Gay-Porn Country.
I mean, I am got-dagblasted proud to be livin’ in a nation that is so all-fire inclusive and open-minded as to welcome this particular style of music into its Fords and Chevys. I’m wipin’ a tear from my eye.
Bravo, ‘Merica. Bra-feckin'-vo.
I was one lane over from a white pickup truck yesterday, when I heard this blarin’ from a cracked window: “There’s dudes gettin’ facials…”
The light changed before I could hear any more than this g-droppin’ snippet.
But my wonderin’ ears were delighted to have happened upon a genre that I ain’t never encountered before: Gay-Porn Country.
I mean, I am got-dagblasted proud to be livin’ in a nation that is so all-fire inclusive and open-minded as to welcome this particular style of music into its Fords and Chevys. I’m wipin’ a tear from my eye.
Bravo, ‘Merica. Bra-feckin'-vo.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
LISTEN TO THE SILENCE
I shitcanned the Sirius today, after three years of service.
The display on my car receiver bit the dust several months ago. I found out that my unit was obsolete, and if I wanted to replace it, I'd need to install new rigging along with the new radio.
This sealed the deal for me. I'm not about to get stuck on a hardware upgrade/replacement merry-go-round, particularly for the sake of a pay service.
Things I liked about Sirius:
-Initial exposure to some good bands: Arcade Fire, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, No Age, etc.
-Genre/era immersion. In a 70s mood? Got you covered.
-Lack of commercials.
-24-hour Rolling Stones channel.
-Andrew Loog Oldham, for that matter.
-The artist/title scroll.
-2008 Dolphins football.
Things I didn't like about Sirius:
-Crap bands like Klaxons.
-Classic rock immersion. In a Kansas mood? Seriously? Are you? What the fuck is wrong with you, anyway?
-Heard Stereolab once in the entire three years. Neon Beanbag. Last week.
-24-hour AC/DC channel. That's 12 hours of AC, and 12 hours of DC. Sorry, the catalogue just does not warrant that kind of coverage.
-Bandwidth compression. They might as well be broadcasting in mono.
-2007 Dolphins football.
Things that left me nonplussed about Sirius:
-Mediocre bands, too numerous to mention.
-Disc jockeys. The discs don't need no jockeying when you got the artist/title scroll.
-24-hour Bruce Springsteen channel. I suppose.
-XM merger. Meh.
I'm enough of a milestone junkie to be a little saddened that it's over.
Good luck, satrad. I think you'll be needing it...
I shitcanned the Sirius today, after three years of service.
The display on my car receiver bit the dust several months ago. I found out that my unit was obsolete, and if I wanted to replace it, I'd need to install new rigging along with the new radio.
This sealed the deal for me. I'm not about to get stuck on a hardware upgrade/replacement merry-go-round, particularly for the sake of a pay service.
Things I liked about Sirius:
-Initial exposure to some good bands: Arcade Fire, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, No Age, etc.
-Genre/era immersion. In a 70s mood? Got you covered.
-Lack of commercials.
-24-hour Rolling Stones channel.
-Andrew Loog Oldham, for that matter.
-The artist/title scroll.
-2008 Dolphins football.
Things I didn't like about Sirius:
-Crap bands like Klaxons.
-Classic rock immersion. In a Kansas mood? Seriously? Are you? What the fuck is wrong with you, anyway?
-Heard Stereolab once in the entire three years. Neon Beanbag. Last week.
-24-hour AC/DC channel. That's 12 hours of AC, and 12 hours of DC. Sorry, the catalogue just does not warrant that kind of coverage.
-Bandwidth compression. They might as well be broadcasting in mono.
-2007 Dolphins football.
Things that left me nonplussed about Sirius:
-Mediocre bands, too numerous to mention.
-Disc jockeys. The discs don't need no jockeying when you got the artist/title scroll.
-24-hour Bruce Springsteen channel. I suppose.
-XM merger. Meh.
I'm enough of a milestone junkie to be a little saddened that it's over.
Good luck, satrad. I think you'll be needing it...
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
IN THIS EVER CHANGING WORLD IN WHICH WE LIVE IN
Why “I want to go to there” is not a catchphrase sweeping the nation, I just don’t know.
The asses who like to spout catchphrases should be exhausted by now with spouting this.
It’s like a prime-period Wings song: simpleminded and syntactically wobbly, but with an economical genius that will make it stick in your head for weeks on end.
Go to 4:15 here for an example...
Why “I want to go to there” is not a catchphrase sweeping the nation, I just don’t know.
The asses who like to spout catchphrases should be exhausted by now with spouting this.
It’s like a prime-period Wings song: simpleminded and syntactically wobbly, but with an economical genius that will make it stick in your head for weeks on end.
Go to 4:15 here for an example...
Friday, December 05, 2008
D&D
Last week I downloaded the four Derek and the Dominoes songs that I like: Bell Bottom Blues, Why Does Love Got to Be So Sad, Little Wing, and Layla. That's a magisterially fecked up collection of tunes right there.
And as an added bonus, the iPod truncates the album title as follows: Layla and Other Ass.
Which might be a more accurate title, when you get right down to it...
Last week I downloaded the four Derek and the Dominoes songs that I like: Bell Bottom Blues, Why Does Love Got to Be So Sad, Little Wing, and Layla. That's a magisterially fecked up collection of tunes right there.
And as an added bonus, the iPod truncates the album title as follows: Layla and Other Ass.
Which might be a more accurate title, when you get right down to it...
Thursday, December 04, 2008
HOLA
And forgive me if those 10 “chapter” entries were deca WTF. I was serializing the opening of my micro-novel, Halo.
The micro-novel is designed to be a quick jolt of a story-- maybe 50 to 75 chapters that you could take down in an hour-- with lots of silent spaces and nooks.
So, the disappearing telephone wires in Chapter 1 could bring to mind broken conversations. And the selected voice (“would stretch out”) could add to that sense of disconnectedness. And/or the scene could be meant to convey a dark, overcast early fall afternoon.
Mind you, I wouldn't argue with the position that the enterprise to date is a complete and abject failure.
But fuck, points for trying, right?
And forgive me if those 10 “chapter” entries were deca WTF. I was serializing the opening of my micro-novel, Halo.
The micro-novel is designed to be a quick jolt of a story-- maybe 50 to 75 chapters that you could take down in an hour-- with lots of silent spaces and nooks.
So, the disappearing telephone wires in Chapter 1 could bring to mind broken conversations. And the selected voice (“would stretch out”) could add to that sense of disconnectedness. And/or the scene could be meant to convey a dark, overcast early fall afternoon.
Mind you, I wouldn't argue with the position that the enterprise to date is a complete and abject failure.
But fuck, points for trying, right?
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
IT'S A MIGHTY LONG WAY DOWN ROCK AND ROLL
I just went from DC to Detroit, Detroit to South Bend, South Bend to Detroit, Detroit to Memphis, and Memphis to DC, with some driving from South Bend back into Michigan, and from Memphis into Mississippi. In the span of 36 hours.
Before I left, I dropped a certain song on my iPod. It was like filling a canteen with water.
So as the bell rang on board my last leg this afternoon, I plugged in my earphones and listened to All the Way From Memphis by Mott the Hoople.
I was slaked, and I made it home alive...
I just went from DC to Detroit, Detroit to South Bend, South Bend to Detroit, Detroit to Memphis, and Memphis to DC, with some driving from South Bend back into Michigan, and from Memphis into Mississippi. In the span of 36 hours.
Before I left, I dropped a certain song on my iPod. It was like filling a canteen with water.
So as the bell rang on board my last leg this afternoon, I plugged in my earphones and listened to All the Way From Memphis by Mott the Hoople.
I was slaked, and I made it home alive...
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
CHAPTER 10
[They stood in the wide entryway for a brief moment, coronal silhouettes.
Kin peeked over the edge of the carriage, and pushed a silent puff of air past his lips.
They walked into the garage.
-Motherfucker. Stupid motherfucker!
-What? I told you.
-Yeah, you told me. And that makes it better somehow?
-We still have 120. We'll get two with 120. I called before I left.
-So he's going to meet us?
-Yeah, in like an hour. In the sump.
-OK.
They dropped their Marlboro red boxes on the narrow concrete shelf that jutted out where the plasterboard wall ended.
This was Kin's older brother Ray, and his friend Sarge from over on Brown.
Ray flipped the top of a Zippo open with one hand, dropped it down to his side, then scraped it up along his pant leg so that it lit. Then he closed the top and did it again.
Sarge pulled a shuriken out of the soft, camel-brown wall and stepped back five or six feet. He released it quickly, the action mostly from his wrist, and the shuriken entered the wall with a powdery thud.
-To Oz?
-To Oz.
They collected their cigarettes from the shelf and walked back outside, bringing the garage door down behind them.
And it was once again dark.]
[They stood in the wide entryway for a brief moment, coronal silhouettes.
Kin peeked over the edge of the carriage, and pushed a silent puff of air past his lips.
They walked into the garage.
-Motherfucker. Stupid motherfucker!
-What? I told you.
-Yeah, you told me. And that makes it better somehow?
-We still have 120. We'll get two with 120. I called before I left.
-So he's going to meet us?
-Yeah, in like an hour. In the sump.
-OK.
They dropped their Marlboro red boxes on the narrow concrete shelf that jutted out where the plasterboard wall ended.
This was Kin's older brother Ray, and his friend Sarge from over on Brown.
Ray flipped the top of a Zippo open with one hand, dropped it down to his side, then scraped it up along his pant leg so that it lit. Then he closed the top and did it again.
Sarge pulled a shuriken out of the soft, camel-brown wall and stepped back five or six feet. He released it quickly, the action mostly from his wrist, and the shuriken entered the wall with a powdery thud.
-To Oz?
-To Oz.
They collected their cigarettes from the shelf and walked back outside, bringing the garage door down behind them.
And it was once again dark.]
Friday, November 21, 2008
CHAPTER 9
-Not the moors again.
-Yup.
-Fuck.
-Tell me about it. I always think you're going to turn into Kate Bush or something.
-Or Emily Bronte?
-Yeah, or Emily Bronte. You know, raven tressed, storm tossed, consumptive...
-What is consumption, anyway? TB?
-Christ, I'm not sure really. But yeah, I think it's TB. Personally I like it.
-You like it?
-Not the disease-- the name. The idea of being consumed by a disease.
-Well, you're a sick fuck.
-And thank you kindly, ma'am.
-Not the moors again.
-Yup.
-Fuck.
-Tell me about it. I always think you're going to turn into Kate Bush or something.
-Or Emily Bronte?
-Yeah, or Emily Bronte. You know, raven tressed, storm tossed, consumptive...
-What is consumption, anyway? TB?
-Christ, I'm not sure really. But yeah, I think it's TB. Personally I like it.
-You like it?
-Not the disease-- the name. The idea of being consumed by a disease.
-Well, you're a sick fuck.
-And thank you kindly, ma'am.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
CHAPTER 8
His name was not really Kin, but she thought it fit, and it rhymed with hers.
Her name was Gin, but not like the juniper-berry drink. She'd say
-Gin, same as “gun” except with an I instead of a U.
She liked how the vowels would masquerade as pronouns. It felt confrontational, even if she was the only one who ever noticed. Especially if she was the only one who noticed...
His name was not really Kin, but she thought it fit, and it rhymed with hers.
Her name was Gin, but not like the juniper-berry drink. She'd say
-Gin, same as “gun” except with an I instead of a U.
She liked how the vowels would masquerade as pronouns. It felt confrontational, even if she was the only one who ever noticed. Especially if she was the only one who noticed...
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
CHAPTER 7
-We are out on the moors, Kin. We are out on the moors.
-No, we're in the car.
-We are out on the moors. We are out on the moors. We are out on the moors.
-We are in the car.
-We are out on the moors. We are out on the moors. We are out on the moors, Kin. We are out on the moors.
-No.
And then she returned.
-We are out on the moors, Kin. We are out on the moors.
-No, we're in the car.
-We are out on the moors. We are out on the moors. We are out on the moors.
-We are in the car.
-We are out on the moors. We are out on the moors. We are out on the moors, Kin. We are out on the moors.
-No.
And then she returned.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
CHAPTER 6
[There was a baby carriage in the back of the garage, dark blue and canopied, with 5” wheels and a wobbly suspension. It was empty by then, but for years it had been filled with bundles of old newspapers, wrapped portrait and landscape in twine.
They huddled together bottomless in that carriage in the dark garage. Inside the house his father drank Champale and groped his mother's tits at the kitchen table. His mother practiced a Chopin nocturne on her knee in an effort not to notice.
-It looks like a little apple.
The garage door opened and bathed every corner in late afternoon light, and they didn't dare move an inch.]
[There was a baby carriage in the back of the garage, dark blue and canopied, with 5” wheels and a wobbly suspension. It was empty by then, but for years it had been filled with bundles of old newspapers, wrapped portrait and landscape in twine.
They huddled together bottomless in that carriage in the dark garage. Inside the house his father drank Champale and groped his mother's tits at the kitchen table. His mother practiced a Chopin nocturne on her knee in an effort not to notice.
-It looks like a little apple.
The garage door opened and bathed every corner in late afternoon light, and they didn't dare move an inch.]
Friday, November 14, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
CHAPTER 4
-Crackers, cookies, crackers, cookies, crackers, cookies...
She tried to keep her mind busy.
Then she saw him reach. He was probably in his late 30s. Underdressed for the weather.
He was reaching to pluck something from an aluminum display tree adjacent to the Fudge Stripes. A Hot Wheels car. He ran a finger over the clear plastic shell, and raised the package up slightly to look at the undercarriage.
She dropped the bottle of soda, and a quick surge ran through her upper back. She waited for everything to turn red, she waited for the densified concrete floor to open and swallow her whole. But instead she just cried, low and quiet and shuddery.
-Crackers, cookies, crackers, cookies, crackers, cookies...
She tried to keep her mind busy.
Then she saw him reach. He was probably in his late 30s. Underdressed for the weather.
He was reaching to pluck something from an aluminum display tree adjacent to the Fudge Stripes. A Hot Wheels car. He ran a finger over the clear plastic shell, and raised the package up slightly to look at the undercarriage.
She dropped the bottle of soda, and a quick surge ran through her upper back. She waited for everything to turn red, she waited for the densified concrete floor to open and swallow her whole. But instead she just cried, low and quiet and shuddery.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
CHAPTER 3
She turned and walked down the soda aisle. Only a few people there, which was good. She wanted to move. She wanted to move.
There was a little girl dancing lightly from Pepsi to Sprite. The stock clerk had the black dead eyes of a shark or an alcoholic. This would be easy.
As the neck of the bottle pressed against her thenar eminence she grasped and lifted, barely breaking stride.
Done.
She turned and walked down the soda aisle. Only a few people there, which was good. She wanted to move. She wanted to move.
There was a little girl dancing lightly from Pepsi to Sprite. The stock clerk had the black dead eyes of a shark or an alcoholic. This would be easy.
As the neck of the bottle pressed against her thenar eminence she grasped and lifted, barely breaking stride.
Done.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
CHAPTER 2
-Parmesan Goldfish and Mr Pibb.
He reached into his right pocket until his leg was completely straight, and his foot strained against the floorboard.
-Here's 5. You sure you want to?
-Yes.
She grabbed the bill and stepped out of the car onto a two-foot tall orange E. FIRE LANE.
He muttered to himself-- Shit-- and fiddled with the knob on the car stereo...
-Parmesan Goldfish and Mr Pibb.
He reached into his right pocket until his leg was completely straight, and his foot strained against the floorboard.
-Here's 5. You sure you want to?
-Yes.
She grabbed the bill and stepped out of the car onto a two-foot tall orange E. FIRE LANE.
He muttered to himself-- Shit-- and fiddled with the knob on the car stereo...
Monday, November 10, 2008
Friday, November 07, 2008
KOOKIE, KOOKIE, LEND ME YOUR COMB
I was explaining to Taeko why I didn't have a comb.
“I dropped it in the toilet by accident a few days ago.”
“So. You wash it.”
“No, sorry. Strict rule: If it falls in the toilet, game over.”
“You'd never survive in a war.”
“A war? Is there some global combat imminent that's going to involve dunking my personal-grooming products in the toilet?”
Silence
“Because I think I have a right to know, dammit.”
Additional silence.
“But yeah, if those are the rules of warfare, I'm pretty much a dead man...”
I was explaining to Taeko why I didn't have a comb.
“I dropped it in the toilet by accident a few days ago.”
“So. You wash it.”
“No, sorry. Strict rule: If it falls in the toilet, game over.”
“You'd never survive in a war.”
“A war? Is there some global combat imminent that's going to involve dunking my personal-grooming products in the toilet?”
Silence
“Because I think I have a right to know, dammit.”
Additional silence.
“But yeah, if those are the rules of warfare, I'm pretty much a dead man...”
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
I FOUND THAT ESSENCE RARE
Politics, huh? Well, OK.
I became aware of politics in the 70s. My grandmother was prominent in the local Republican woman’s club. I wrote derogatory grade-school limericks about Gerald Ford. In 7th grade, I stole a copy of The Doonesbury Chronicles from the school library.
In the 80s I felt mildly oppressed by first-round Reagan, and morbidly oppressed by second-round Reagan. The America of 1984-1988 was not my America.
Bush the First held the faintly unpleasant aftertaste of the Reagan years. I crinkled my nose and swallowed hard.
I forgave Clinton his peccadilloes in light of many of his policies, but I didn’t trust a word he said. I spent my time waiting for Cuomo… but Cuomo never came.
Gore seemed to possess a developed sense of fairness and decency, so I was satisfied when he was elected, Tipper notwithstanding. Then Bush the Second stole the consarnit thing, and we were condemned to four years of an Empire of Idiocy, then complicit in it for another four.
Yesterday we woke up. And for the first time in a long time, I can say that I am proud of this country.
Well done, America. Well effing done…
Politics, huh? Well, OK.
I became aware of politics in the 70s. My grandmother was prominent in the local Republican woman’s club. I wrote derogatory grade-school limericks about Gerald Ford. In 7th grade, I stole a copy of The Doonesbury Chronicles from the school library.
In the 80s I felt mildly oppressed by first-round Reagan, and morbidly oppressed by second-round Reagan. The America of 1984-1988 was not my America.
Bush the First held the faintly unpleasant aftertaste of the Reagan years. I crinkled my nose and swallowed hard.
I forgave Clinton his peccadilloes in light of many of his policies, but I didn’t trust a word he said. I spent my time waiting for Cuomo… but Cuomo never came.
Gore seemed to possess a developed sense of fairness and decency, so I was satisfied when he was elected, Tipper notwithstanding. Then Bush the Second stole the consarnit thing, and we were condemned to four years of an Empire of Idiocy, then complicit in it for another four.
Yesterday we woke up. And for the first time in a long time, I can say that I am proud of this country.
Well done, America. Well effing done…
Friday, October 31, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
THE STARS BEGIN TO TWINKLE IN THE SKY
I actually listened to Smoke on the Water all the way through yesterday, and it reminded me of everything I love about rock and roll:
An idiot can be a genius, and a genius can be an idiot. An idiot can be an idiot, and a genius can be a genius.
Any old way you choose it, my friends…
I actually listened to Smoke on the Water all the way through yesterday, and it reminded me of everything I love about rock and roll:
An idiot can be a genius, and a genius can be an idiot. An idiot can be an idiot, and a genius can be a genius.
Any old way you choose it, my friends…
Monday, October 27, 2008
TIGER BEAT
Some random thoughts on the weekend's Deerhoof show...
Some random thoughts on the weekend's Deerhoof show...
- Flying and Experimental Dental School both had one fewer member than they did when the reviews were written for their respective 2008 releases. Looks like downsizing has hit third-tier indie rock, and hard…
- Satomi, Deerhoof singer/bassist, is tiny, but rocks large.
- Greg, Deerhoof drummer, is Keith Moon on a Chris Partridge kit. Careful with those sticks, Eugene.
- Greg endeared himself by introducing some acquaintances in attendance: the cousin who gave him his first album (Kiss Alive— not Kiss Alive II, fortunately), and three-quarters of his high-school barbershop quartet.
- Satomi trotted out a plush tiger mask for the encore. (The last song they played was “Basket Ball Get Your Groove Back” from the new album, so I’m not quite sure what was up with that.) It did remind me of my favorite quote from this weekend: Sebastian called to me from the dining room, where his mother was enforcing one household rule or another, and said “Daddy, I think you married a tiger!” I fell off the couch, and even Taeko found it fit to laugh…
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
AGNOSTIC FRONTING
Conference today, and at some point I found myself making the following note: "Utilize precis in push?" Needless to say, 16 year-old me showed up at lunch break and kicked my ever-loving ass.
The phrase du jour (which I swear I heard five different people use)? "Content agnostic."
Don't worry 16 year-old me, I'm not going down that road...
Conference today, and at some point I found myself making the following note: "Utilize precis in push?" Needless to say, 16 year-old me showed up at lunch break and kicked my ever-loving ass.
The phrase du jour (which I swear I heard five different people use)? "Content agnostic."
Don't worry 16 year-old me, I'm not going down that road...
Monday, October 20, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
I JUST GOT OUT MY LITTLE BLUE PILL
Geez, can't anybody sitting on their couch watching football/baseball get it up?
Because if I have to hear Viva Viagra one more time, so help me...
PS, I do still snicker at the solemn warning regarding an "erection lasting more than four hours." I'm only human after all.
Geez, can't anybody sitting on their couch watching football/baseball get it up?
Because if I have to hear Viva Viagra one more time, so help me...
PS, I do still snicker at the solemn warning regarding an "erection lasting more than four hours." I'm only human after all.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
COMMUTER BLUES
I tried to convince myself that traffic was moving slowly because we were all in awe of the same sunset sky, which looked like the salmon in a Zabar's case. But then I noticed in the distance a left lane clogged with police lights. I sighed and turned up the radio. Fuck, it's October again already, and the 21st century too...
I tried to convince myself that traffic was moving slowly because we were all in awe of the same sunset sky, which looked like the salmon in a Zabar's case. But then I noticed in the distance a left lane clogged with police lights. I sighed and turned up the radio. Fuck, it's October again already, and the 21st century too...
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
LUCKY NUMBER
I have set up a tracking system at work that will reach its logical end in 73 years. As a result, if things are still being done the same way in 73 years, I have set in motion a potential problem for my robot successors.
So, to my robot successors in the year 2081: I knew damn well what I was doing, and I am laughing my ass off at you from across the years...
I have set up a tracking system at work that will reach its logical end in 73 years. As a result, if things are still being done the same way in 73 years, I have set in motion a potential problem for my robot successors.
So, to my robot successors in the year 2081: I knew damn well what I was doing, and I am laughing my ass off at you from across the years...
Friday, October 03, 2008
DON'T FORGET TO SAY GRACE
“And you tell meeee, over and over and over again…”
“………………….............over and over and over again…”
Lana was stunned when I started singing along.
“Dad! You said you didn’t know the Pessimist Song!”
“Huh?”
“The Pessimist Song. I asked you if you knew the Pessimist Song and the Optimist Song, and you said you didn’t!”
“Oh, that’s the Pessimist Song? Of course I know that—it’s Eve of Destruction. What’s the Optimist Song?”
“Last night I dreamed the strangest dream…”
Resolved: Lana’s teacher is a fecking hippie.
Anyway, I searched iTunes, and downloaded Eve of Destruction for her. We sat on the couch, and Lana sang along in a light lilting soprano that put Barry McGuire to shame…
“And you tell meeee, over and over and over again…”
“………………….............over and over and over again…”
Lana was stunned when I started singing along.
“Dad! You said you didn’t know the Pessimist Song!”
“Huh?”
“The Pessimist Song. I asked you if you knew the Pessimist Song and the Optimist Song, and you said you didn’t!”
“Oh, that’s the Pessimist Song? Of course I know that—it’s Eve of Destruction. What’s the Optimist Song?”
“Last night I dreamed the strangest dream…”
Resolved: Lana’s teacher is a fecking hippie.
Anyway, I searched iTunes, and downloaded Eve of Destruction for her. We sat on the couch, and Lana sang along in a light lilting soprano that put Barry McGuire to shame…
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
AFTER CLASS
Random thoughts on the Chessie/Atlas Sound/Stereolab show last night:
-So, yeah, rhythm guitarist from Chessie. Um, I'm, uh, sorry that I tried to sell you my extra ticket out in front of the club. But really, how the fuck was I supposed to know?
-Chessie is an awww cute name.
-Atlas Sound is a dolphin. Doesn't look like one. Doesn't sound like one. He just is one.
-Atlas Sound coaxed some awesome noises out of this tangle of wires and diodes, a guitar, and a couple of mikes. Mesmerizing.
-Atlas Sound is a hero. Doesn't look like one. Doesn't sound like one. He just is one.
-Stereolab played a good bunch of new stuff, and just like when they were touring Fab Four Suture, they punched it up for certain.
-Stereolab were also getting all 1993 up in here, what with Lo Boob Oscillator, French Disko, Jenny Ondioline, and John Cage Bubblegum. Y'all got yr Lolla tix?
-Tim Gane busted a guitar string, and who retrieved the axe from the stage, replaced the string, and brought it back a song later? Atlas Sound, MF. Atlas Sound. Like I said: Hero...
Random thoughts on the Chessie/Atlas Sound/Stereolab show last night:
-So, yeah, rhythm guitarist from Chessie. Um, I'm, uh, sorry that I tried to sell you my extra ticket out in front of the club. But really, how the fuck was I supposed to know?
-Chessie is an awww cute name.
-Atlas Sound is a dolphin. Doesn't look like one. Doesn't sound like one. He just is one.
-Atlas Sound coaxed some awesome noises out of this tangle of wires and diodes, a guitar, and a couple of mikes. Mesmerizing.
-Atlas Sound is a hero. Doesn't look like one. Doesn't sound like one. He just is one.
-Stereolab played a good bunch of new stuff, and just like when they were touring Fab Four Suture, they punched it up for certain.
-Stereolab were also getting all 1993 up in here, what with Lo Boob Oscillator, French Disko, Jenny Ondioline, and John Cage Bubblegum. Y'all got yr Lolla tix?
-Tim Gane busted a guitar string, and who retrieved the axe from the stage, replaced the string, and brought it back a song later? Atlas Sound, MF. Atlas Sound. Like I said: Hero...
Monday, September 29, 2008
EVERYBODY'S COMING DOWN
If you are a Mets’ fan to your core, you knew it had to end like this.
You knew that your team needed to say goodbye to Shea in a game that would see them dismiss the playoffs from their schedule on the final day of the season, for the second year running.
You knew the weather would be cloudy, and that the sun would break through, and you knew that it would rain.
I knew, because I learned a lot from Shea Stadium.
I learned early about the intimacy of failure.
I learned that men will fight like lions for meaningless things.
I learned that those same men will piss in the sink rather than wait for an available stall.
So farewell, Shea Stadium, you old son of a bitch. Farewell.
If you are a Mets’ fan to your core, you knew it had to end like this.
You knew that your team needed to say goodbye to Shea in a game that would see them dismiss the playoffs from their schedule on the final day of the season, for the second year running.
You knew the weather would be cloudy, and that the sun would break through, and you knew that it would rain.
I knew, because I learned a lot from Shea Stadium.
I learned early about the intimacy of failure.
I learned that men will fight like lions for meaningless things.
I learned that those same men will piss in the sink rather than wait for an available stall.
So farewell, Shea Stadium, you old son of a bitch. Farewell.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
MATRYOSHKA ROCK
OK, apparently Billboard still has a top 100 singles chart.
And what's more, Paper Planes by M.I.A. is currently number 4 on that chart. It’s a wonderful song, and I’m happy for it. Plus, it’s built around a sample from Straight to Hell, so more cash for The Clash, which is good.
But it gets even better. The number 5 song is Swagga Like Us by Jay Z & T.I. Featuring Kanye West and Lil Wayne, which is built around—wait for it— a sample from Paper Planes. And I assume this somehow means even more money for The Clash.
Well, I’m pleased to announce that I’m working on a new project with Jay Z, T.I., Kanye West, Lil Wayne, Ne-Yo, T-Pain, Flo Rida, and Akon. It’s called “Uz” and it’s built around a sample from Swagga Like Us by Jay Z & T.I. Featuring Kanye West and Lil Wayne.
Because dammit man, The Clash must get paid…
OK, apparently Billboard still has a top 100 singles chart.
And what's more, Paper Planes by M.I.A. is currently number 4 on that chart. It’s a wonderful song, and I’m happy for it. Plus, it’s built around a sample from Straight to Hell, so more cash for The Clash, which is good.
But it gets even better. The number 5 song is Swagga Like Us by Jay Z & T.I. Featuring Kanye West and Lil Wayne, which is built around—wait for it— a sample from Paper Planes. And I assume this somehow means even more money for The Clash.
Well, I’m pleased to announce that I’m working on a new project with Jay Z, T.I., Kanye West, Lil Wayne, Ne-Yo, T-Pain, Flo Rida, and Akon. It’s called “Uz” and it’s built around a sample from Swagga Like Us by Jay Z & T.I. Featuring Kanye West and Lil Wayne.
Because dammit man, The Clash must get paid…
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
BY AND BY
Dialogue from a fall festival:
“Where’s Lana?” I ask.
“Over there. They’re looking at the goat.” Taeko is ready to leave.
Six kids are sitting in a circle surrounding a very mellow goat, which is ignoring the empty wafer cones being shoved under its nose, and doing its goat-damnedest to sleep.
“Come on, Lana—it’s time to go.”
Six kids dissolve the circle in a slow wave.
“Aw, man, you broke up the goat circle.” I sound disappointed.
“What’s a goat circle?”
“It’s when you sit around in a circle and there’s a goat in the middle.”
“Is that a thing?”
“Um, yeah, it’s a thing. Goat circle? Hello?”
We Capricorns are a particular lot…
Dialogue from a fall festival:
“Where’s Lana?” I ask.
“Over there. They’re looking at the goat.” Taeko is ready to leave.
Six kids are sitting in a circle surrounding a very mellow goat, which is ignoring the empty wafer cones being shoved under its nose, and doing its goat-damnedest to sleep.
“Come on, Lana—it’s time to go.”
Six kids dissolve the circle in a slow wave.
“Aw, man, you broke up the goat circle.” I sound disappointed.
“What’s a goat circle?”
“It’s when you sit around in a circle and there’s a goat in the middle.”
“Is that a thing?”
“Um, yeah, it’s a thing. Goat circle? Hello?”
We Capricorns are a particular lot…
Friday, September 19, 2008
OH CANADA
This is the current greatest song ever.
My family came home tonight and found me dancing round the living room to it. Oops-- I forgot the quotes: "dancing."
Sing along now: "I spent the winter on the verge of a total breakdown/While living in Norway..."
This is the current greatest song ever.
My family came home tonight and found me dancing round the living room to it. Oops-- I forgot the quotes: "dancing."
Sing along now: "I spent the winter on the verge of a total breakdown/While living in Norway..."
Thursday, September 18, 2008
INITIAL IT WITH LOVING CARE
I signed papers yesterday giving Taeko explicit instructions to shoot me in the head if I ever express a desire to have my shirt cuffs monogrammed.
It was a pretty easy decision, really, and I’d recommend that all you men out there designate a loved one to do the same for you.
Because it’s just the right thing to do…
I signed papers yesterday giving Taeko explicit instructions to shoot me in the head if I ever express a desire to have my shirt cuffs monogrammed.
It was a pretty easy decision, really, and I’d recommend that all you men out there designate a loved one to do the same for you.
Because it’s just the right thing to do…
Monday, September 15, 2008
UNDO THE COLLAPSE
Out, vile demons of September, 2007— the power of rap compels thee!
Strangely, George Foster (0:21) is a dead ringer vocally for the Average Homeboy.
Rafael Santana (2:09) though, is a wizard, a true star...
Out, vile demons of September, 2007— the power of rap compels thee!
Strangely, George Foster (0:21) is a dead ringer vocally for the Average Homeboy.
Rafael Santana (2:09) though, is a wizard, a true star...
Friday, September 12, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
NO ALARMS AND NO SURPRISES PLEASE
This is just to say that I'll be continuing a brief hiatus that began last week. I hope to be back and posting in earnest (and in not so earnest, as the situation dictates) within a couple of weeks.
My mom had a stroke last week, and we are working out the details of what comes next.
Peace.
This is just to say that I'll be continuing a brief hiatus that began last week. I hope to be back and posting in earnest (and in not so earnest, as the situation dictates) within a couple of weeks.
My mom had a stroke last week, and we are working out the details of what comes next.
Peace.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
JU D'OH!
It was nice that Zhang Yimou let the writers from The Simpsons script the intro to London as the next host city during the closing ceremonies.
They had a double-decker bus morph into some teletubbyish terrain, out of which popped Leona Lewis to mime along while Jimmy Page pretended to play Whole Lotta Love. David Beckham stood awkwardly on a platform opposite them, and then launched a football into the crowd.
Hilarious.
The only thing that could've topped it would have been if the football had beheaded an unsuspecting Madonna, rather than simply landing in a pit of Japanese volunteers.
But we all know The Simpsons is not as sharp as it was once...
It was nice that Zhang Yimou let the writers from The Simpsons script the intro to London as the next host city during the closing ceremonies.
They had a double-decker bus morph into some teletubbyish terrain, out of which popped Leona Lewis to mime along while Jimmy Page pretended to play Whole Lotta Love. David Beckham stood awkwardly on a platform opposite them, and then launched a football into the crowd.
Hilarious.
The only thing that could've topped it would have been if the football had beheaded an unsuspecting Madonna, rather than simply landing in a pit of Japanese volunteers.
But we all know The Simpsons is not as sharp as it was once...
Friday, August 22, 2008
MERELY PLAYAS
I think I might be starting to like The Stage Names.
I didn’t give it much of a chance when it first came out. Liked the first track, then everything went meh. “Okkervil River,” said I, “Take yer emotistical song titles and overwrought vocals and stow ‘em in the overhead.”
But last night I was listening to Plus Ones, and damned if it isn’t cool, clever, and catchy. It’s all about the 97th tear, the 100th luftballoon, the 8 Chinese brothers, the 9 miles high, the TVC16, the cell 45, the 51st way to leave your lover, the 4 times a lady, and the 17 candles.
And I’m all about the 2nd chance…
I think I might be starting to like The Stage Names.
I didn’t give it much of a chance when it first came out. Liked the first track, then everything went meh. “Okkervil River,” said I, “Take yer emotistical song titles and overwrought vocals and stow ‘em in the overhead.”
But last night I was listening to Plus Ones, and damned if it isn’t cool, clever, and catchy. It’s all about the 97th tear, the 100th luftballoon, the 8 Chinese brothers, the 9 miles high, the TVC16, the cell 45, the 51st way to leave your lover, the 4 times a lady, and the 17 candles.
And I’m all about the 2nd chance…
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
SOME KINDA LOVE
Every so often a phrase of such grace and utility presents itself that you wonder how you ever lived a conversational life without it.
I met one such phrase today, courtesy of a friend making a passing remark about the town in which I live: “I've been kayaking on your lake.”
Genius. Gen-i-us.
Say it with a slight leer and it drips with innuendo: “Well babe, I've been kayaking on your lake, and it sure is nice.”
Say it with remorse when you've been sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, and it is the perfect apology: “I realize I've been kayaking on your lake, and I'm sorry.”
These are just the two uses I uncovered today, during my first 12 hours or so of exposure. I expect that the possibilities are endless...
Every so often a phrase of such grace and utility presents itself that you wonder how you ever lived a conversational life without it.
I met one such phrase today, courtesy of a friend making a passing remark about the town in which I live: “I've been kayaking on your lake.”
Genius. Gen-i-us.
Say it with a slight leer and it drips with innuendo: “Well babe, I've been kayaking on your lake, and it sure is nice.”
Say it with remorse when you've been sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, and it is the perfect apology: “I realize I've been kayaking on your lake, and I'm sorry.”
These are just the two uses I uncovered today, during my first 12 hours or so of exposure. I expect that the possibilities are endless...
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
ST. JOE STRUMMER
Some random thoughts on last night's Hold Steady show:
-Dear The Loved Ones,
Give the bass player a cookie.
Yours,
st
-The Hold Steady were not nearly as puppy-dog eager to please as they were last year, and the better for it.
-If my eyes/ears did not deceive me, I think there was an actual bona fide encore last night. As in, the crowd refused to leave after the air-quotes encore, and the band came back from wherever it is bands go when the show is over, to play one more song.
-Yeah, Craig Finn can turn a phrase, but brain coral's brother gets credit for the quote of the night, in reference to the Maryland Zoo in Baltimore: “They gots a baby elephant.”
Some random thoughts on last night's Hold Steady show:
-Dear The Loved Ones,
Give the bass player a cookie.
Yours,
st
-The Hold Steady were not nearly as puppy-dog eager to please as they were last year, and the better for it.
-If my eyes/ears did not deceive me, I think there was an actual bona fide encore last night. As in, the crowd refused to leave after the air-quotes encore, and the band came back from wherever it is bands go when the show is over, to play one more song.
-Yeah, Craig Finn can turn a phrase, but brain coral's brother gets credit for the quote of the night, in reference to the Maryland Zoo in Baltimore: “They gots a baby elephant.”
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
PROTEST ANT
Visited my brother while I was on vacation in NY this past weekend...
Waspish
What font is that?
1961-1994.
The gray-flecked stone
Looks like dirty soap
inscribed
Ivory or Dove.
I lean in to take a picture
With my cell-phone camera:
The name of my brother.
From under the lip
Of the monument
A wasp appears,
Pushing
me
away...
Visited my brother while I was on vacation in NY this past weekend...
Waspish
What font is that?
1961-1994.
The gray-flecked stone
Looks like dirty soap
inscribed
Ivory or Dove.
I lean in to take a picture
With my cell-phone camera:
The name of my brother.
From under the lip
Of the monument
A wasp appears,
Pushing
me
away...
Friday, August 08, 2008
VIRGINIA HAM
For some time now, this li'l music/memoir site has been the first hit if you google the phrase “sliced tongue.”
In your face, Zabar's!
So, in case you have stumbled upon the site accidentally, I should mention that I do have six or seven years of back-in-the-day experience handling deli meats. Which means that if I ever compare, say, Fleet Foxes to head cheese or Conor Oberst to olive loaf, I am uniquely qualified to do so.
sliced tongue: Come for the cold cuts, stay for the hot rock.
For some time now, this li'l music/memoir site has been the first hit if you google the phrase “sliced tongue.”
In your face, Zabar's!
So, in case you have stumbled upon the site accidentally, I should mention that I do have six or seven years of back-in-the-day experience handling deli meats. Which means that if I ever compare, say, Fleet Foxes to head cheese or Conor Oberst to olive loaf, I am uniquely qualified to do so.
sliced tongue: Come for the cold cuts, stay for the hot rock.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
TUSH
The kids wanted something to drink.
We had the hatch lifted on the Odyssey, and there was half a case of water pushed up against the back of the second-row seats. Taeko slipped off her sandals and climbed onto the bed of the minivan.
She stretched over two bicycles and reached for the bottles. I watched her jeans bend and flex, and I marked every fold in the fabric.
As she backed out, she poked her left foot toward the pavement, searching for its sandal. She then looked down and noticed it was overturned in a small puddle.
“Ahhh! My sandal! Why weren't you watching?”
“Um, I was busy looking at your butt.”
“You don't need to look at my butt. You should have been looking at my sandals!”
“Hello,” I said, extending my hand in greeting. “I am a man. Perhaps you've never met one of us before...”
The kids wanted something to drink.
We had the hatch lifted on the Odyssey, and there was half a case of water pushed up against the back of the second-row seats. Taeko slipped off her sandals and climbed onto the bed of the minivan.
She stretched over two bicycles and reached for the bottles. I watched her jeans bend and flex, and I marked every fold in the fabric.
As she backed out, she poked her left foot toward the pavement, searching for its sandal. She then looked down and noticed it was overturned in a small puddle.
“Ahhh! My sandal! Why weren't you watching?”
“Um, I was busy looking at your butt.”
“You don't need to look at my butt. You should have been looking at my sandals!”
“Hello,” I said, extending my hand in greeting. “I am a man. Perhaps you've never met one of us before...”
Monday, August 04, 2008
Friday, August 01, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
MUSICIANSHIP
Just out of nowhere, I’ve started listening to Ships by Danielson.
I let this one go by a couple of years back. I thought Ship the Majestic Suffix was Schoolhouse Rock for cool kids, but when I hit the line “When life's got your goat now/By his tail or by his goat throat” in track 2, I cut bait and never looked back.
But now I’ve been listening to the first four or five songs every night before I go to sleep. And that line is still absurd, but it matters less…
Just out of nowhere, I’ve started listening to Ships by Danielson.
I let this one go by a couple of years back. I thought Ship the Majestic Suffix was Schoolhouse Rock for cool kids, but when I hit the line “When life's got your goat now/By his tail or by his goat throat” in track 2, I cut bait and never looked back.
But now I’ve been listening to the first four or five songs every night before I go to sleep. And that line is still absurd, but it matters less…
Friday, July 18, 2008
MAC LOVING
So yeah, I picked up a copy of Rumours when I was in Charlottesville. Figured it was about time.
The frisson of the various mangled relationships is right on the surface, but what really stands out is the pure strength of You Make Loving Fun. This song got me through as much pre-adolescent shit as the ice cream man, and I can still feel its gravitational pull...
So yeah, I picked up a copy of Rumours when I was in Charlottesville. Figured it was about time.
The frisson of the various mangled relationships is right on the surface, but what really stands out is the pure strength of You Make Loving Fun. This song got me through as much pre-adolescent shit as the ice cream man, and I can still feel its gravitational pull...
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
HALO
It wasn’t there.
You might have seen me if you were in the Albemarle Square Plan 9 on Saturday afternoon.
I was the one in a blue t-shirt and tan shorts, with black Mets Crocs. I was rocking a nascent goatee, brown under the nose and gray on the chin.
I spent several minutes in the V used rock CD section, a few minutes more than you’d rightly think anyone would need.
But it wasn’t there. And I couldn’t believe it wasn’t there.
It appears that somehow, the last used copy of Teenage Symphonies to God by Velvet Crush has left the building.
Now I won’t go so far as to say that the point of my two-hour drive down to Charlottesville was to confirm the continued presence of the disc. That would be kind of nuts. But let’s just say it was a side attraction.
My breath quickened a bit when I realized it was gone. I was disequilibrated.
And just as suddenly, I felt a sense of calm. I might have even grinned.
Because I realized at that moment what it is that I left in Charlottesville. And I realized as well that it’s waiting there for me.
I’ll let you know someday if I have the sense to pick it up…
It wasn’t there.
You might have seen me if you were in the Albemarle Square Plan 9 on Saturday afternoon.
I was the one in a blue t-shirt and tan shorts, with black Mets Crocs. I was rocking a nascent goatee, brown under the nose and gray on the chin.
I spent several minutes in the V used rock CD section, a few minutes more than you’d rightly think anyone would need.
But it wasn’t there. And I couldn’t believe it wasn’t there.
It appears that somehow, the last used copy of Teenage Symphonies to God by Velvet Crush has left the building.
Now I won’t go so far as to say that the point of my two-hour drive down to Charlottesville was to confirm the continued presence of the disc. That would be kind of nuts. But let’s just say it was a side attraction.
My breath quickened a bit when I realized it was gone. I was disequilibrated.
And just as suddenly, I felt a sense of calm. I might have even grinned.
Because I realized at that moment what it is that I left in Charlottesville. And I realized as well that it’s waiting there for me.
I’ll let you know someday if I have the sense to pick it up…
Friday, July 11, 2008
BRAFF BAG
The other night on National Geographic they were showing Aftermath: Population Zero, which the program guide describes thusly:
“Envisioning what Earth would be like if all 6.6 billion humans disappeared.”
When I flipped by, an unfortunate theoretical poodle was getting owned by a pack of theoretical German shepherds. I hit the FAV button on the remote to move on to the next channel, which was IFC. Garden State was on.
This led me to envision what Earth would be like if all 6.6 billion humans disappeared.
Because, hey, no Garden State...
The other night on National Geographic they were showing Aftermath: Population Zero, which the program guide describes thusly:
“Envisioning what Earth would be like if all 6.6 billion humans disappeared.”
When I flipped by, an unfortunate theoretical poodle was getting owned by a pack of theoretical German shepherds. I hit the FAV button on the remote to move on to the next channel, which was IFC. Garden State was on.
This led me to envision what Earth would be like if all 6.6 billion humans disappeared.
Because, hey, no Garden State...
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Monday, July 07, 2008
NMEeek
I went to Neiman Marcus for the first time in my life yesterday.
I was looking through a rack of t-shirts when a salesman popped up right in my line of sight. He was holding a $70 Juicy Couture tee with shiny silver accents on the front.
“This is a nice shirt. I had someone come in last week and buy this shirt. He went out to nightclub and the, how do you call it, was, was catching...” Here he made a motion with his free hand, outlining the silver design with his index finger.
“Disco ball,” I said.
“Yes, the disco ball. It was catching the silver and lighting up. His friend, he liked it so much, he brought his friend in the next day and he got same shirt.”
“That is quite a shirt,” I acknowledged. “Quite... a... shirt.”
I went to Neiman Marcus for the first time in my life yesterday.
I was looking through a rack of t-shirts when a salesman popped up right in my line of sight. He was holding a $70 Juicy Couture tee with shiny silver accents on the front.
“This is a nice shirt. I had someone come in last week and buy this shirt. He went out to nightclub and the, how do you call it, was, was catching...” Here he made a motion with his free hand, outlining the silver design with his index finger.
“Disco ball,” I said.
“Yes, the disco ball. It was catching the silver and lighting up. His friend, he liked it so much, he brought his friend in the next day and he got same shirt.”
“That is quite a shirt,” I acknowledged. “Quite... a... shirt.”
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
BRIGHT AND SHINY PLATTERS
There are very few discs among my all-time favorites that I’d suggest are essential to you.
Sure, I could point out why I think you should like Dots and Loops or Haha Sound or Wild Gift, and you might very well be nonplussed. That’s fine.
But there are three that I think you ignore at your own peril.
I’ve prattled on enough about In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Just live with it for a while, and your soul will be a better place.
Another one is Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space. It’s a bit harder for me to articulate the reasons why I think this is so essential. It’s visceral. That’ll do.
The third is Exile in Guyville.
Now, there was every chance that this one would not age well, that 15 years on it would feel like a relic of indie days gone by. But it still holds up.
It’s profane, and sometimes gratuitous. But so are you.
It’s sprawling and confused. But so are you.
It’s righteously pissed. But so are you.
It’s really kind of beautiful. But so are you...
There are very few discs among my all-time favorites that I’d suggest are essential to you.
Sure, I could point out why I think you should like Dots and Loops or Haha Sound or Wild Gift, and you might very well be nonplussed. That’s fine.
But there are three that I think you ignore at your own peril.
I’ve prattled on enough about In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Just live with it for a while, and your soul will be a better place.
Another one is Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space. It’s a bit harder for me to articulate the reasons why I think this is so essential. It’s visceral. That’ll do.
The third is Exile in Guyville.
Now, there was every chance that this one would not age well, that 15 years on it would feel like a relic of indie days gone by. But it still holds up.
It’s profane, and sometimes gratuitous. But so are you.
It’s sprawling and confused. But so are you.
It’s righteously pissed. But so are you.
It’s really kind of beautiful. But so are you...
Friday, June 27, 2008
ISM-SKISM GAME
Got cut off this morning by a black Prius with the following bumper sticker:
Relax; God’s in Control
Expect Miracles
First I was moderately pissed about being cut off.
Next I was angered more intensely by the shoddy application of the semi-colon. Forgive me, but it’s who I am.
Finally I was damn near enraged by the sentiment, which is pernicious bullshit...
Got cut off this morning by a black Prius with the following bumper sticker:
Relax; God’s in Control
Expect Miracles
First I was moderately pissed about being cut off.
Next I was angered more intensely by the shoddy application of the semi-colon. Forgive me, but it’s who I am.
Finally I was damn near enraged by the sentiment, which is pernicious bullshit...
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
CATAPULT
One day years ago I was playing stickball at my old grammar school. It was a nondescript summer afternoon, but for some reason a side door was open. I went inside.
I walked the hallways in a bit of a daze, as recollections both sharp and dim pinged my brain.
Of course, everything was smaller than I remembered. I stooped to get a drink from the water fountain.
Last night I was listening to “Is This It?” and, well, let’s just say I had to stoop to drink from the fountain…
One day years ago I was playing stickball at my old grammar school. It was a nondescript summer afternoon, but for some reason a side door was open. I went inside.
I walked the hallways in a bit of a daze, as recollections both sharp and dim pinged my brain.
Of course, everything was smaller than I remembered. I stooped to get a drink from the water fountain.
Last night I was listening to “Is This It?” and, well, let’s just say I had to stoop to drink from the fountain…
Monday, June 23, 2008
HORNS
OK Rocknoceros, just stay the living fuck away from my kids. I swear, one step closer and I will give you a beat down you'll not soon forget...
OK Rocknoceros, just stay the living fuck away from my kids. I swear, one step closer and I will give you a beat down you'll not soon forget...
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
BANDSTAND
Had a little listening party here at the ranch the other night, featuring Nouns by No Age and the Sun Giant EP from Fleet Foxes.
First impression: the difference between the respective discs is kind of like the difference between wanting to be like your cool uncle and dressing up in your daddy’s clothes.
Don’t get me wrong—the Fleet Foxes disc seems perfectly pleasant. I could imagine my good friend Tom the Classic Rock Fan (TCRF) digging it. But for now I'm with No Age.
Of course, my initial thoughts on OK Computer were that it was for TCRF only too, so you never can tell…
Had a little listening party here at the ranch the other night, featuring Nouns by No Age and the Sun Giant EP from Fleet Foxes.
First impression: the difference between the respective discs is kind of like the difference between wanting to be like your cool uncle and dressing up in your daddy’s clothes.
Don’t get me wrong—the Fleet Foxes disc seems perfectly pleasant. I could imagine my good friend Tom the Classic Rock Fan (TCRF) digging it. But for now I'm with No Age.
Of course, my initial thoughts on OK Computer were that it was for TCRF only too, so you never can tell…
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
L-O-V-E LOVE, IT'S COMING BACK, IT'S COMING BACK
I bought this shirt a couple of weeks ago.
Now, as a teenage punk, I developed a considerable disdain for hippies. Not so much due to their blinkered idealism, but more for the way in which their attachment to sex and drugs overwhelmed their attachment to radicalism, and led in a straight line to discos, coke spoons, and The Love Boat.
But given the tenor of our times, I find myself in sympathy with the idea of a politicized youth movement.
The one peril that goes with the shirt? Conversations with real hippies, as I learned on a weekend walk through Georgetown...
I bought this shirt a couple of weeks ago.
Now, as a teenage punk, I developed a considerable disdain for hippies. Not so much due to their blinkered idealism, but more for the way in which their attachment to sex and drugs overwhelmed their attachment to radicalism, and led in a straight line to discos, coke spoons, and The Love Boat.
But given the tenor of our times, I find myself in sympathy with the idea of a politicized youth movement.
The one peril that goes with the shirt? Conversations with real hippies, as I learned on a weekend walk through Georgetown...
Friday, June 13, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
PUNCTUATION ROCK
So the book itself was nothing to fear.
It was a fairly nuts-and-bolts description of the genesis of Neutral Milk Hotel, and the recording of “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea.”
There was one small interpretive section, for which the author nearly apologized.
The only thing that grated a little was an “alternative” reading of the opening to King of Carrot Flowers Parts 2 & 3. In case you’re not familiar, the song starts with a naked display of faith: “I love you Jesus Christ/Jesus Christ I love you, yes I do.”
The author offers a couple of commas to the atheists for whom this statement might present a barrier to engagement with the album, and turns Jesus Christ into an exclamation: “I love you, Jesus Christ/Jesus Christ, I love you, yes I do.”
Well, as an atheist myself, bear with me as I cozy up to my fellow atheists here for a second.
Hi, fellow atheists. So, um, how’s your atheism going? Been a while since we’ve spoken. How was your Generic Winter Holiday Celebration? Good, good to hear. So, anyway, about this King of Carrot Flowers Parts 2 & 3 thing. Yeah, uh, if listening to someone express their faith is a problem for you, I have a suggestion: Fuck off. Now I realize that’s not a particularly productive suggestion, but seriously, if hearing Jeff Mangum sing “I love you Jesus Christ” bars the door to your potential enjoyment of the album, then the album does not need you. You need it for certain, but I guess you’re kind of screwed there, huh? Well, take care, y’all.
So the book itself was nothing to fear.
It was a fairly nuts-and-bolts description of the genesis of Neutral Milk Hotel, and the recording of “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea.”
There was one small interpretive section, for which the author nearly apologized.
The only thing that grated a little was an “alternative” reading of the opening to King of Carrot Flowers Parts 2 & 3. In case you’re not familiar, the song starts with a naked display of faith: “I love you Jesus Christ/Jesus Christ I love you, yes I do.”
The author offers a couple of commas to the atheists for whom this statement might present a barrier to engagement with the album, and turns Jesus Christ into an exclamation: “I love you, Jesus Christ/Jesus Christ, I love you, yes I do.”
Well, as an atheist myself, bear with me as I cozy up to my fellow atheists here for a second.
Hi, fellow atheists. So, um, how’s your atheism going? Been a while since we’ve spoken. How was your Generic Winter Holiday Celebration? Good, good to hear. So, anyway, about this King of Carrot Flowers Parts 2 & 3 thing. Yeah, uh, if listening to someone express their faith is a problem for you, I have a suggestion: Fuck off. Now I realize that’s not a particularly productive suggestion, but seriously, if hearing Jeff Mangum sing “I love you Jesus Christ” bars the door to your potential enjoyment of the album, then the album does not need you. You need it for certain, but I guess you’re kind of screwed there, huh? Well, take care, y’all.
Monday, June 09, 2008
EMPTY RINGS AROUND YOUR HEART
For my birthday back in January, I picked up a copy of the “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea” book from the 33 1/3 series.
And that, strictly speaking, was the last time I picked it up until this past weekend.
You see, I was a bit scared of the book. As much as I wanted to know more about “In the Aeroplane” I also didn't want to know any more than I already did.
It's kind of like how I felt about biology back in high school. I thought that to be alive is a startling and magical thing, and I didn't want that sensation to be corrupted by too detailed an understanding of taxonomies and nomenclatures.
But we grow older and recognize that willful ignorance has little to recommend it either, I suppose...
For my birthday back in January, I picked up a copy of the “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea” book from the 33 1/3 series.
And that, strictly speaking, was the last time I picked it up until this past weekend.
You see, I was a bit scared of the book. As much as I wanted to know more about “In the Aeroplane” I also didn't want to know any more than I already did.
It's kind of like how I felt about biology back in high school. I thought that to be alive is a startling and magical thing, and I didn't want that sensation to be corrupted by too detailed an understanding of taxonomies and nomenclatures.
But we grow older and recognize that willful ignorance has little to recommend it either, I suppose...
Friday, June 06, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
DON’T SURROUND YOURSELF WITH YOURSELF
After a few years of studied neglect, I added some info to the favorites sections in my Blogger profile.
Initially, it seemed kind of neat that you can click on your own favorites and be taken to a list of other Blogger users who share a specific favorite.
But then I got this vision of people trying to triangulate soul mates based on their common taste in movies/music/books. And that scares me.
Because the world would be a much better place if everyone’s first criterion for a relationship was the differences instead of the similarities…
After a few years of studied neglect, I added some info to the favorites sections in my Blogger profile.
Initially, it seemed kind of neat that you can click on your own favorites and be taken to a list of other Blogger users who share a specific favorite.
But then I got this vision of people trying to triangulate soul mates based on their common taste in movies/music/books. And that scares me.
Because the world would be a much better place if everyone’s first criterion for a relationship was the differences instead of the similarities…
Friday, May 23, 2008
HEAR WITH YOUR HEART
Today I arranged my iTunes songs alphabetically for the first time, and it made for some odd neighbors.
Like, Love Will Keep Us Together and Love Will Tear Us Apart.
So, I am left to consider-- and not for the first time-- whom it is I should believe: The Captain and Tennille or Joy Division.
Sure Joy Division had the existential industrial angst, but Toni had a cute overbite, and that Daryl was a captain-hat-wearing motherfucker...
Today I arranged my iTunes songs alphabetically for the first time, and it made for some odd neighbors.
Like, Love Will Keep Us Together and Love Will Tear Us Apart.
So, I am left to consider-- and not for the first time-- whom it is I should believe: The Captain and Tennille or Joy Division.
Sure Joy Division had the existential industrial angst, but Toni had a cute overbite, and that Daryl was a captain-hat-wearing motherfucker...
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
THE MERRY MONTH
I used to think that May was out to get me.
Yes, the month. That little three-letter month. That tiny auxiliary masquerading as a month.
May had taken my father, on its 18th day. A few years later, it took his mother, on a day I don’t recall.
My brother was born on its 20th day, under one of its little dark clouds.
But then I met Taeko, born May 7, and my opinion began to change. The dread that I typically felt at its approach abated, and by the time Lana was born on its 30th day, I had developed a layered, complicated relationship with the month.
And now I finally understand the lesson here: May is life.
I used to think that May was out to get me.
Yes, the month. That little three-letter month. That tiny auxiliary masquerading as a month.
May had taken my father, on its 18th day. A few years later, it took his mother, on a day I don’t recall.
My brother was born on its 20th day, under one of its little dark clouds.
But then I met Taeko, born May 7, and my opinion began to change. The dread that I typically felt at its approach abated, and by the time Lana was born on its 30th day, I had developed a layered, complicated relationship with the month.
And now I finally understand the lesson here: May is life.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
RENOUNCE ALL SIN AND VICE
Thanks to the bluenoses at iTunes for protecting me from reading scary bad words like “sodomy.”
Which is rendered online thusly: Rum S****y & the Lash.
Of course, if you preview Sick Bed of Cuchulainn from the very same album, iTunes has chosen this 30 seconds to share: “Frank Ryan bought you whiskey in a brothel in Madrid/And you decked some fuckin' blackshirt…”
So to sum up: my eyes are OK, but my ears have an ow-ie.
I hope to god that iTunes cleans up these naughty preview segments as soon as possible, or else the aged youth of America is surely doomed.
Materfucking sodomites...
Thanks to the bluenoses at iTunes for protecting me from reading scary bad words like “sodomy.”
Which is rendered online thusly: Rum S****y & the Lash.
Of course, if you preview Sick Bed of Cuchulainn from the very same album, iTunes has chosen this 30 seconds to share: “Frank Ryan bought you whiskey in a brothel in Madrid/And you decked some fuckin' blackshirt…”
So to sum up: my eyes are OK, but my ears have an ow-ie.
I hope to god that iTunes cleans up these naughty preview segments as soon as possible, or else the aged youth of America is surely doomed.
Materfucking sodomites...
Friday, May 16, 2008
ADAY IN THE LIFE
Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I needed to explain Meat Loaf’s Paradise by the Dashboard Light to someone.
Here’s the slightly compressed version of events:
[Makes passing reference to song]
[Reference to song is met with puzzled look]
“Seriously? You don’t know it?”
“No, I only know that one Meat Loaf song…”
Me interrupting. “This is that one Meat Loaf song!”
“No, the ‘I would do anything for love’ song.”
Christ. That’s Meat Loaf 2.0…
“Really? How about ‘Well, I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday’…”?
“No. I don’t think I know that one.”
“OK, hold on—you’ve earned this.” I called up YouTube and showed him the video. This whole conversation had started because we were talking about Phil Rizzuto, so I fast-forwarded to that part of the action.
“You see, the Scooter thought he was just providing play by play, and didn’t know they were going to use it for an extended ‘baseball as sex’ metaphor.”
“Hah.”
Oh, it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night...
Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I needed to explain Meat Loaf’s Paradise by the Dashboard Light to someone.
Here’s the slightly compressed version of events:
[Makes passing reference to song]
[Reference to song is met with puzzled look]
“Seriously? You don’t know it?”
“No, I only know that one Meat Loaf song…”
Me interrupting. “This is that one Meat Loaf song!”
“No, the ‘I would do anything for love’ song.”
Christ. That’s Meat Loaf 2.0…
“Really? How about ‘Well, I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday’…”?
“No. I don’t think I know that one.”
“OK, hold on—you’ve earned this.” I called up YouTube and showed him the video. This whole conversation had started because we were talking about Phil Rizzuto, so I fast-forwarded to that part of the action.
“You see, the Scooter thought he was just providing play by play, and didn’t know they were going to use it for an extended ‘baseball as sex’ metaphor.”
“Hah.”
Oh, it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night...
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
I KNOW MY RIDER
I was behind the "1-800-GOT-BYRDS" truck today. I suspect it's got something to do with bird removal...
Jesus, who knew that bird infestation was enough of a problem to warrant a stand-alone business? And one with a fancy truck no less.
Anyway, it got me thinking that I have an inexcusable lack of Byrds music in the juke.
Maybe one day I'll get infested a little...
I was behind the "1-800-GOT-BYRDS" truck today. I suspect it's got something to do with bird removal...
Jesus, who knew that bird infestation was enough of a problem to warrant a stand-alone business? And one with a fancy truck no less.
Anyway, it got me thinking that I have an inexcusable lack of Byrds music in the juke.
Maybe one day I'll get infested a little...
Monday, May 12, 2008
Friday, May 09, 2008
HOME OF ELVIS AND THE ANCIENT GREEKS
I was driving to a site visit with a colleague this morning.
When we got in the car, I turned down the radio, so that Jon Langford was just barely whispering Memphis Egypt.
As we drove on, every so often I swore I still heard Memphis Egypt. I looked down at the track counter, and sure enough, time was moving forward-- surely there was a rumor of Eight Miles High, an implication of Electric Version.
But all I kept hearing was Memphis Egypt...
I was driving to a site visit with a colleague this morning.
When we got in the car, I turned down the radio, so that Jon Langford was just barely whispering Memphis Egypt.
As we drove on, every so often I swore I still heard Memphis Egypt. I looked down at the track counter, and sure enough, time was moving forward-- surely there was a rumor of Eight Miles High, an implication of Electric Version.
But all I kept hearing was Memphis Egypt...
Thursday, May 08, 2008
TESSERING IS CREEPY
Just finished reading A Wrinkle in Time for Lana's book-discussion group this week.
The overarching theme of the dangers of conformity was nice. The anti-Communist rhetoric it was shot through on was anthropologically interesting, ideologically yucky, and artistically grating.
I'm most grateful to the book for the introduction to the phrase "bark my shins."
Sweet Natalie Portman as Sam, what a wonderful turn of words that is! Can't believe I never encountered it before...
Just finished reading A Wrinkle in Time for Lana's book-discussion group this week.
The overarching theme of the dangers of conformity was nice. The anti-Communist rhetoric it was shot through on was anthropologically interesting, ideologically yucky, and artistically grating.
I'm most grateful to the book for the introduction to the phrase "bark my shins."
Sweet Natalie Portman as Sam, what a wonderful turn of words that is! Can't believe I never encountered it before...
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Friday, May 02, 2008
WHOM THE GODS WOULD DESTROY
I was flipping through channels the other night, and I came upon the bazillionth rerun of One-Hit Wonders on VH1.
I didn’t stick around to watch, but a couple of minutes later I realized something: One-Hit Wonders is perhaps the most profound show in the history of television.
I’m not trying to be post-ironic here, and this is not about Shatner worship. If anything, his presence cheapens the experience, and I’m thankful that the interstitial heavy lifting is done by a faceless, low-fat vanilla announcer.
I am not so moved by the folks who had one pop chart hit, but measurable success in other genres/markets (Tom Tom Club, Dexy’s, Gary Numan, Sugarhill Gang).
But Rockwell and the Starland Vocal Band and The Heights and Haddaway and Tommy Tutone and Timbuk 3?
They felt the glorious, terrible pull of fame. People wanted to speak to them, put their pictures in magazines, ask them about the future, and you can bet they all had plans. For next hit records, next tours. They were in the ascendancy, with no conceivable outcome beyond further elevation.
But then it went away. For whatever reasons, they could never again find the magical confluence of notes, beats, and words that had led them to the top.
And still there were lives that required living.
Some made peace with their trajectory and the rocket that got them there, while others floated away into the ether, cursing the afterburn.
You might be tempted to ask while watching “What would I do in that situation?”
I would ask instead “What are you doing?”
I was flipping through channels the other night, and I came upon the bazillionth rerun of One-Hit Wonders on VH1.
I didn’t stick around to watch, but a couple of minutes later I realized something: One-Hit Wonders is perhaps the most profound show in the history of television.
I’m not trying to be post-ironic here, and this is not about Shatner worship. If anything, his presence cheapens the experience, and I’m thankful that the interstitial heavy lifting is done by a faceless, low-fat vanilla announcer.
I am not so moved by the folks who had one pop chart hit, but measurable success in other genres/markets (Tom Tom Club, Dexy’s, Gary Numan, Sugarhill Gang).
But Rockwell and the Starland Vocal Band and The Heights and Haddaway and Tommy Tutone and Timbuk 3?
They felt the glorious, terrible pull of fame. People wanted to speak to them, put their pictures in magazines, ask them about the future, and you can bet they all had plans. For next hit records, next tours. They were in the ascendancy, with no conceivable outcome beyond further elevation.
But then it went away. For whatever reasons, they could never again find the magical confluence of notes, beats, and words that had led them to the top.
And still there were lives that required living.
Some made peace with their trajectory and the rocket that got them there, while others floated away into the ether, cursing the afterburn.
You might be tempted to ask while watching “What would I do in that situation?”
I would ask instead “What are you doing?”
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
LAB REPORT
That new Stereolab disc does not come out until August, but a preview track is now available on iTunes and as a gimme on Pitchfork.
This is me listening to Three Women.
Mildly funky drummer. Mildly bubble gum guitar. Oooh, vibes. I like vibes. I guess the horns were inevitable. Drum break, and it sounds a little sproingy. This one's in French, so it can be about whatever I want it to be about. I've decided it's about Sophia Loren's sister, although I'm not sure if she actually has a sister.
Man, was Sophia Loren the epitome or what?
This track? Not quite. But it's enough to make me come back in a few months...
That new Stereolab disc does not come out until August, but a preview track is now available on iTunes and as a gimme on Pitchfork.
This is me listening to Three Women.
Mildly funky drummer. Mildly bubble gum guitar. Oooh, vibes. I like vibes. I guess the horns were inevitable. Drum break, and it sounds a little sproingy. This one's in French, so it can be about whatever I want it to be about. I've decided it's about Sophia Loren's sister, although I'm not sure if she actually has a sister.
Man, was Sophia Loren the epitome or what?
This track? Not quite. But it's enough to make me come back in a few months...
Monday, April 28, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
A SOLIPSISTIC APOTHEOSIS
One of the groovy things about blogging on blogger (blog!) is that you can be all solipsistic and search your own blog. Sometimes random words will pop into my head, and I'll check to see if I've ever used them here.
For example, before today I had not used the word "solipsistic"-- and now I've logged two.
"Groovy"? Yeah, I've used that twice-- once in reference to a Clash song (Groovy Times), and once in describing Stereolab's version of One Note Samba/Surfboard. That same passage saw one of two uses to date of "apotheosis."
I'm going to roll the dice on "douche" here.
And aw mercy, it looks like we've got another first timer...
One of the groovy things about blogging on blogger (blog!) is that you can be all solipsistic and search your own blog. Sometimes random words will pop into my head, and I'll check to see if I've ever used them here.
For example, before today I had not used the word "solipsistic"-- and now I've logged two.
"Groovy"? Yeah, I've used that twice-- once in reference to a Clash song (Groovy Times), and once in describing Stereolab's version of One Note Samba/Surfboard. That same passage saw one of two uses to date of "apotheosis."
I'm going to roll the dice on "douche" here.
And aw mercy, it looks like we've got another first timer...
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
WE DON'T NEED THAT FASCIST GROOVE THANG
Taeko and Sebastian were playing Dance Dance Revolution when I came downstairs. Lana corralled me before I could join them in the TV room.
"I feel like dancing, but I don't wanna do DDR. I just wanna dance regular, my own dancing."
I took her to the playroom, put on Hyperballad, and we darted around the room like two balloons losing air. Just about the best dancing the world has ever seen, I'd say...
Taeko and Sebastian were playing Dance Dance Revolution when I came downstairs. Lana corralled me before I could join them in the TV room.
"I feel like dancing, but I don't wanna do DDR. I just wanna dance regular, my own dancing."
I took her to the playroom, put on Hyperballad, and we darted around the room like two balloons losing air. Just about the best dancing the world has ever seen, I'd say...
Monday, April 21, 2008
THE MARRIED KIND
Break out the Zinfandel, and drop the needle on some Love Unlimited Orchestra. It's sliced tongue and the fine art of erotic seduction.
We had dropped the kids off at school, and Taeko and I were stopped at a traffic light.
"I'd like to lick your back," I, um, purred.
"Whuh?"
"Lick your back. I'd go up your spine..."-- and here I reached over and traced a gentle line up the curve of her back-- "...and then I'd circle around your shoulder blades."
"Whuh?" she repeated.
It really wasn't necessary to repeat it-- I mean, I did hear her the first time.
I pointed to the street sign overhead. We were waiting to turn onto Backlick Rd.
"Ohhh. Well, I'd rather have a massage."
The light changed, and I made a sharp left...
Break out the Zinfandel, and drop the needle on some Love Unlimited Orchestra. It's sliced tongue and the fine art of erotic seduction.
We had dropped the kids off at school, and Taeko and I were stopped at a traffic light.
"I'd like to lick your back," I, um, purred.
"Whuh?"
"Lick your back. I'd go up your spine..."-- and here I reached over and traced a gentle line up the curve of her back-- "...and then I'd circle around your shoulder blades."
"Whuh?" she repeated.
It really wasn't necessary to repeat it-- I mean, I did hear her the first time.
I pointed to the street sign overhead. We were waiting to turn onto Backlick Rd.
"Ohhh. Well, I'd rather have a massage."
The light changed, and I made a sharp left...
Friday, April 18, 2008
CHEMICAL CHORDS
What do you do when the future becomes the past?
Well, if you’re Stereolab, you continue to invoke the past. After all, that is where the future began.
And yesterday is already here…
What do you do when the future becomes the past?
Well, if you’re Stereolab, you continue to invoke the past. After all, that is where the future began.
And yesterday is already here…
Thursday, April 17, 2008
IN THE BACKSEAT
The kids were sparring in the back of the Odyssey as we drove to Bethesda to pick up some furniture.
"Poppycock!" said Lana.
"Balderdash!" said Sebastian.
"Poppydash!" rejoined Lana.
"Baldercock!" rejoined Sebastian.
I did everything I could to keep my grin from erupting into gale-force laughter...
The kids were sparring in the back of the Odyssey as we drove to Bethesda to pick up some furniture.
"Poppycock!" said Lana.
"Balderdash!" said Sebastian.
"Poppydash!" rejoined Lana.
"Baldercock!" rejoined Sebastian.
I did everything I could to keep my grin from erupting into gale-force laughter...
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Friday, April 11, 2008
SOME VELVET MORNING
Lana came downstairs in her pajamas.
"Whatcha doing?" she sang, in a lilt that went up and then down.
"Just checking e-mail."
She looked at the screen for a few seconds, and finding nothing of interest, moved her eyes around the desk until they landed on the adjacent wall.
"Why do you still have a 2007 calendar?"
"I just never got around to buying a new one. Plus, that's one of my all-time favorite groups."
"The Velvet Underground." She said it in a way that made it sound as if someone had gone and buried a swatch of velvet. I never heard anyone say it that way.
"Yup. Here, wait." I pulled her onto my lap, and brought up iTunes.
"OK, listen." I started with Sunday Morning. "Pretty, huh?"
Lana nodded. "But they could also sound like this." I switched to I Heard Her Call My Name. "Noisy, right?"
Finally, I clicked on Head Held High. That got her. She started to dance right in the seat, like a motor had been tripped.
"What do you think that means: head held high?" I asked. She didn't respond-- she just kept rocking. Not sure if she didn't hear me, or if she just didn't care.
Either way, it was the perfect answer, really...
Lana came downstairs in her pajamas.
"Whatcha doing?" she sang, in a lilt that went up and then down.
"Just checking e-mail."
She looked at the screen for a few seconds, and finding nothing of interest, moved her eyes around the desk until they landed on the adjacent wall.
"Why do you still have a 2007 calendar?"
"I just never got around to buying a new one. Plus, that's one of my all-time favorite groups."
"The Velvet Underground." She said it in a way that made it sound as if someone had gone and buried a swatch of velvet. I never heard anyone say it that way.
"Yup. Here, wait." I pulled her onto my lap, and brought up iTunes.
"OK, listen." I started with Sunday Morning. "Pretty, huh?"
Lana nodded. "But they could also sound like this." I switched to I Heard Her Call My Name. "Noisy, right?"
Finally, I clicked on Head Held High. That got her. She started to dance right in the seat, like a motor had been tripped.
"What do you think that means: head held high?" I asked. She didn't respond-- she just kept rocking. Not sure if she didn't hear me, or if she just didn't care.
Either way, it was the perfect answer, really...
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
TALK TALK TALK TALK
I haven’t been really gripped by anything since Sound of Silver and Person Pitch. So while I wait patiently on 2008, I’ve been doing some digging for worthy stuff that I might have just missed.
I looked back to the Pitchfork top 100 of the 80s and 90s lists for candidates, and found one sitting at number 11 on the 90s list: Laughing Stock by Talk Talk.
Now, honestly, I never would have given Talk Talk a third thought beyond It’s My Life and Talk Talk (the song), and even then it would not been a thought of much consequence.
So it did always intrigue me to see them on this list. It’s like finding out that Blancmange had some secret profundity beyond the simple pleasures of Living on the Ceiling and Don’t Tell Me.
I listened to it for the first time last night, and I fell asleep on the couch almost instantly. That’s not a judgment on the music, though—I was just exhausted.
I woke up around halfway through, and I did hear some very pretty sounds…
I haven’t been really gripped by anything since Sound of Silver and Person Pitch. So while I wait patiently on 2008, I’ve been doing some digging for worthy stuff that I might have just missed.
I looked back to the Pitchfork top 100 of the 80s and 90s lists for candidates, and found one sitting at number 11 on the 90s list: Laughing Stock by Talk Talk.
Now, honestly, I never would have given Talk Talk a third thought beyond It’s My Life and Talk Talk (the song), and even then it would not been a thought of much consequence.
So it did always intrigue me to see them on this list. It’s like finding out that Blancmange had some secret profundity beyond the simple pleasures of Living on the Ceiling and Don’t Tell Me.
I listened to it for the first time last night, and I fell asleep on the couch almost instantly. That’s not a judgment on the music, though—I was just exhausted.
I woke up around halfway through, and I did hear some very pretty sounds…
Friday, April 04, 2008
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
JUST LOOK THEM STRAIGHT IN THE EYE AND SAY...
So now The Pogues are coming out with a five-disc 111-track box set of ye auld odds and sods.
And I need to ask myself: will I buy?
I think the instructive parallel here is The Simpsons on DVD.
I bought the first five seasons before I realized that the discs were sitting unwatched. The bankable nostalgia that drives so much consumerism was working its reflexive magic. So I stopped.
I have a feeling I'll eventually cave on this one, but I kind of know how it ends...
So now The Pogues are coming out with a five-disc 111-track box set of ye auld odds and sods.
And I need to ask myself: will I buy?
I think the instructive parallel here is The Simpsons on DVD.
I bought the first five seasons before I realized that the discs were sitting unwatched. The bankable nostalgia that drives so much consumerism was working its reflexive magic. So I stopped.
I have a feeling I'll eventually cave on this one, but I kind of know how it ends...
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
KIPPERS FOR BREAKFAST
To the person who was trespassing on brain coral’s attempt to enjoy the exhibits at Fort McHenry by staging a loud cell-phone discussion concerning how mediocre artists’ best albums are always live albums: I take issue with you Sir/Madam.
First off, using Supertramp to make your point only reinforces the spuriousness of your argument.
While they were indeed mediocre, they do not have to their name a live album of any especial note or merit. Everyone knows that Breakfast in America is their meisterwork, dumbass.
Second, there are really only a small handful of mediocre artists that actually support your thesis. Peter Frampton for sure, and Kiss, arguably. Can’t think of too many others.
It sounds to me like you were attempting to have an “ironically witty” conversation in a public place, so that everyone in your general vicinity could experience your ironic wittiness.
And for these reasons, I heap upon you great big cans of scorn, whoever you are…
To the person who was trespassing on brain coral’s attempt to enjoy the exhibits at Fort McHenry by staging a loud cell-phone discussion concerning how mediocre artists’ best albums are always live albums: I take issue with you Sir/Madam.
First off, using Supertramp to make your point only reinforces the spuriousness of your argument.
While they were indeed mediocre, they do not have to their name a live album of any especial note or merit. Everyone knows that Breakfast in America is their meisterwork, dumbass.
Second, there are really only a small handful of mediocre artists that actually support your thesis. Peter Frampton for sure, and Kiss, arguably. Can’t think of too many others.
It sounds to me like you were attempting to have an “ironically witty” conversation in a public place, so that everyone in your general vicinity could experience your ironic wittiness.
And for these reasons, I heap upon you great big cans of scorn, whoever you are…
Sunday, March 30, 2008
NORTH POST
Flashback Monday, where we look back at a 21-year old in the initial throes of a five-year obsession with The Pogues...
North Song
Nap while the church doors are swinging
And hell will well-stain your tide. Amen!
Be at peace while the church bells are ringing,
And you'll never be active again.
Oh, a star it might shake in the north sky,
A star it might shake in the north,
But I'll never get down
On my knees on the ground
Where another was driven away.
Follow your love on a Sunday
To romp on a lawn in the country air,
And you'll follow her down on a Monday
And rot in a corner right with her.
A star it might shake in the north sky,
A star it might shake in the north,
But I'll never get down
On my knees on the ground
Where another was driven away.
Oh, I must have been christened in soda,
Since I can't be kept down in a pew,
And I live my life like I oughta,
Not like some fucking priest on the screw.
A star it might shake in the north sky,
A star it might shake in the north,
But I'll never get down
On my knees on the ground
Where another was driven away.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
MAC DADDY
So, within minutes of opening up my new Mac, I was on the phone with Northern Virginia Pest and Small Animal Control (or NOVA PSAC, more familiarly)…
ST: Um, hi. I have a bit of a problem here. I just bought a new MacBook…
NOVA PSAC: Feist?
ST: Huh? How…
NOVA PSAC: It’s Feist, again, isn’t it? We here at PSAC have been dealing with this for almost a year now. We see it three, four times a week. What is she doing, sir?
ST: Now? Now she’s just kind of squatting in the corner. But she was floating around the room just before. We have a cathedral ceiling, so she was really up there…
NOVA PSAC: Dammit, man—not a cathedral ceiling. That’s where your most persistent Feist infestations take root. So, she’s not mobile now. Is she making any sound?
ST: Hold on. OK. OK. Yeah. She’s counting. Just “1,2,3,4” over and over again. Please tell me you can make this stop. In the name of all that is good and right, please…
NOVA PSAC: OK, sir, hold on. Don’t get hysterical. We here at PSAC are trained professionals. We’ll take care of this. Is she blocking your way?
ST: No, no, she’s still over in the corner of the room.
NOVA PSAC: Excellent. Here’s what you need to do: Go into another room, preferably the largest available room in the house. Next, you’re going to need to form a Canadian supergroup collective. I’d recommend you get one of the violin players from Arcade Fire and one of the dudes from Stars, to start. Who knows, that might even be enough.
So I did just that, and then sent them on a tour of 750-seat clubs, mostly out west. And all of my Feist problems were solved.
Thank you, PSAC, from the bottom of my heart!
So, within minutes of opening up my new Mac, I was on the phone with Northern Virginia Pest and Small Animal Control (or NOVA PSAC, more familiarly)…
ST: Um, hi. I have a bit of a problem here. I just bought a new MacBook…
NOVA PSAC: Feist?
ST: Huh? How…
NOVA PSAC: It’s Feist, again, isn’t it? We here at PSAC have been dealing with this for almost a year now. We see it three, four times a week. What is she doing, sir?
ST: Now? Now she’s just kind of squatting in the corner. But she was floating around the room just before. We have a cathedral ceiling, so she was really up there…
NOVA PSAC: Dammit, man—not a cathedral ceiling. That’s where your most persistent Feist infestations take root. So, she’s not mobile now. Is she making any sound?
ST: Hold on. OK. OK. Yeah. She’s counting. Just “1,2,3,4” over and over again. Please tell me you can make this stop. In the name of all that is good and right, please…
NOVA PSAC: OK, sir, hold on. Don’t get hysterical. We here at PSAC are trained professionals. We’ll take care of this. Is she blocking your way?
ST: No, no, she’s still over in the corner of the room.
NOVA PSAC: Excellent. Here’s what you need to do: Go into another room, preferably the largest available room in the house. Next, you’re going to need to form a Canadian supergroup collective. I’d recommend you get one of the violin players from Arcade Fire and one of the dudes from Stars, to start. Who knows, that might even be enough.
So I did just that, and then sent them on a tour of 750-seat clubs, mostly out west. And all of my Feist problems were solved.
Thank you, PSAC, from the bottom of my heart!
Monday, March 24, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
SOME KIND OF WONDERFUL
Fun facts about Urban Voodoo Machine, who opened for the Pogues:
-It is the year 2008, and they call themselves "Urban Voodoo Machine." By choice, apparently.
-One of them used to be in Flesh for Lulu. Isn't that nice, like Miami Vice?
-They transgressed all rules of opening-band decorum by playing for about 12 hours. Tighten it up a bit lads, 'K?
We're spring breaking around here-- be back late next week.
Fun facts about Urban Voodoo Machine, who opened for the Pogues:
-It is the year 2008, and they call themselves "Urban Voodoo Machine." By choice, apparently.
-One of them used to be in Flesh for Lulu. Isn't that nice, like Miami Vice?
-They transgressed all rules of opening-band decorum by playing for about 12 hours. Tighten it up a bit lads, 'K?
We're spring breaking around here-- be back late next week.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
DEAD OLD TREES
Shane did not seem any more or less coherent than the last time around.
He again relied on the set list taped to the stage in an effort to follow along, and sometimes he needed Spider to correct his song announcements:
“This is Body of an American.”
“No Shane, we just did that.”
But then you hear the lyrics to Dark Streets of London (“And every time that I look on the first day of summer/Takes me back to the place where they gave ECT”), and you think a little harder about the journey from electroconvulsive therapy to this stage on this night...
Shane did not seem any more or less coherent than the last time around.
He again relied on the set list taped to the stage in an effort to follow along, and sometimes he needed Spider to correct his song announcements:
“This is Body of an American.”
“No Shane, we just did that.”
But then you hear the lyrics to Dark Streets of London (“And every time that I look on the first day of summer/Takes me back to the place where they gave ECT”), and you think a little harder about the journey from electroconvulsive therapy to this stage on this night...
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
TO HELL, WHICH IS CIRCULAR ALL AROUND
Different vibe at this Pogues show than there was back in 2006. I wouldn’t say it was subdued, but it was relatively laid back.
The crowd on the floor back in 2006 looked like white water—it rose and fell and chucked and sprayed.
This time around, the floor was marked by a few enthusiasts, but nothing too aggressive.
Telling quote, from Dude #1 to Dude #2, re Dude #3, directly in front of us upstairs: “I promised his wife I wouldn’t let him go down on the floor.”
Different vibe at this Pogues show than there was back in 2006. I wouldn’t say it was subdued, but it was relatively laid back.
The crowd on the floor back in 2006 looked like white water—it rose and fell and chucked and sprayed.
This time around, the floor was marked by a few enthusiasts, but nothing too aggressive.
Telling quote, from Dude #1 to Dude #2, re Dude #3, directly in front of us upstairs: “I promised his wife I wouldn’t let him go down on the floor.”
Friday, March 07, 2008
WHERE THE RIVERS ALL RUN DRY
So brain coral and I are heading out to see The Pogues again.
I have to say, I don’t feel like we’re tempting fate. We got our grace last time, sitting like a big, fat whole note on the staff.
I am prepared now, I think, to have some good uncomplicated fun…
So brain coral and I are heading out to see The Pogues again.
I have to say, I don’t feel like we’re tempting fate. We got our grace last time, sitting like a big, fat whole note on the staff.
I am prepared now, I think, to have some good uncomplicated fun…
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
DETOX
During the course of work today, this phrase jumped out at me: “liver regeneration.”
I thought about how my mother willed my father’s body to science after he died at 46, so that further research could be done on his cirrhotic liver.
I thought about how my brother benefited from that research when he got his liver transplant 17 years later. Still, he didn't make it to 33.
Then I thought about Shane MacGowan, who just turned 50 this past Christmas day.
Liver regeneration.
Huh…
During the course of work today, this phrase jumped out at me: “liver regeneration.”
I thought about how my mother willed my father’s body to science after he died at 46, so that further research could be done on his cirrhotic liver.
I thought about how my brother benefited from that research when he got his liver transplant 17 years later. Still, he didn't make it to 33.
Then I thought about Shane MacGowan, who just turned 50 this past Christmas day.
Liver regeneration.
Huh…
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
WON'T YOU LET ME TAKE YOU ON A SEA CRUISE?
Dear Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines,
Just an FYI that contrary to the information in the address field for all the mail you keep sending me, my name is not in fact “Dong Park.”
Close, but not quite.
However, if I do go through with my tentative plans to become a Korean porn star, it’s good to know that I have a nom de smut waiting for me.
Regards,
sliced tongue
Dear Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines,
Just an FYI that contrary to the information in the address field for all the mail you keep sending me, my name is not in fact “Dong Park.”
Close, but not quite.
However, if I do go through with my tentative plans to become a Korean porn star, it’s good to know that I have a nom de smut waiting for me.
Regards,
sliced tongue
Friday, February 29, 2008
I GUESS THAT I JUST DON'T KNOW
I kicked NyQuil last night after riding the horse for two straight days.
I'm sure you know the drill for coming down: night sweats, hallucinations. Real dark-night-of-the-soul kind of stuff.
Somewhere in the middle of all that I wrote this song.
Greek Versions of American Movies
Voiceover, voiceover, voiceover, voiceover
I want my voice to be heard
Over the explosions.
Voiceover, voiceover
In a thousand years
Show me your culture.
Voiceover, voiceover, voiceover
I kicked NyQuil last night after riding the horse for two straight days.
I'm sure you know the drill for coming down: night sweats, hallucinations. Real dark-night-of-the-soul kind of stuff.
Somewhere in the middle of all that I wrote this song.
Greek Versions of American Movies
Voiceover, voiceover, voiceover, voiceover
I want my voice to be heard
Over the explosions.
Voiceover, voiceover
In a thousand years
Show me your culture.
Voiceover, voiceover, voiceover
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
OVER THE EDGE FOR YONKS
OK, we've all been sick around here for five or six days. Last night I just couldn't get any traction in bed, so after my second vividly weird dream, I headed downstairs. And I remember the vividly weird dreams better than anything that happened after that.
So tonight, I'm getting ready to ride the NyQuil train.
I just sucked down a capful fit for a 12-year old. Now I'm going to slip on some headphones and listen to Dark Side...
OK, we've all been sick around here for five or six days. Last night I just couldn't get any traction in bed, so after my second vividly weird dream, I headed downstairs. And I remember the vividly weird dreams better than anything that happened after that.
So tonight, I'm getting ready to ride the NyQuil train.
I just sucked down a capful fit for a 12-year old. Now I'm going to slip on some headphones and listen to Dark Side...
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
JEUX SANS FRONTIERES
These Vampire Weekend boys seem well aware of the Peter Gabriel dialectic (“This feels so unnatural/Peter Gabriel too”), which is essentially this: Peter Gabriel is great/Peter Gabriel sucks.
The fulcrum for this particular philosophical constant occurs somewhere around the time when he stopped naming all of his albums “Peter Gabriel.”
“So” then, is fully realized sucking. A grand achievement in sucking. It sucks like a vampire 40 days dry.
Thank you for choosing the great Peter Gabriel, boys...
These Vampire Weekend boys seem well aware of the Peter Gabriel dialectic (“This feels so unnatural/Peter Gabriel too”), which is essentially this: Peter Gabriel is great/Peter Gabriel sucks.
The fulcrum for this particular philosophical constant occurs somewhere around the time when he stopped naming all of his albums “Peter Gabriel.”
“So” then, is fully realized sucking. A grand achievement in sucking. It sucks like a vampire 40 days dry.
Thank you for choosing the great Peter Gabriel, boys...
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
MORE CONFUSIONS, BLOOD TRANSFUSIONS
My vampire three-day weekend:
Saturday
Watched The Doors, right up until the part where Jim and the boys visit the Factory. “Let's get out of here, man-- these people are vampires,” hisses Kyle MacLachlan as Ray Manzarek, with disdain for the Warholites. Goddamn, does this movie... suck.
Sunday
Bought Vampire Weekend at Best Buy for $7.99. Haven't listened to it yet, but I'm already over the fact that they're a band of privileged boys biting African rhythms for a living. Because Christ, if I got worked up every time privilege had its way with its culture of choice, I'd never get out of flipping bed.
Monday
Discussed Bunnicula in Lana's reading group, the tale of a cat who is convinced that the new bunny in the family is a vampire.
All in all, it was an AB+ few days...
My vampire three-day weekend:
Saturday
Watched The Doors, right up until the part where Jim and the boys visit the Factory. “Let's get out of here, man-- these people are vampires,” hisses Kyle MacLachlan as Ray Manzarek, with disdain for the Warholites. Goddamn, does this movie... suck.
Sunday
Bought Vampire Weekend at Best Buy for $7.99. Haven't listened to it yet, but I'm already over the fact that they're a band of privileged boys biting African rhythms for a living. Because Christ, if I got worked up every time privilege had its way with its culture of choice, I'd never get out of flipping bed.
Monday
Discussed Bunnicula in Lana's reading group, the tale of a cat who is convinced that the new bunny in the family is a vampire.
All in all, it was an AB+ few days...
Friday, February 15, 2008
UNDYING LOVE
One service the crappy movie did was bring me back to Across the Universe the song. The naked version, specifically...
I find now that stripped of all the Spectorian strings I no longer care whether Lennon's reedy serenity signifies resignation or transcendence.
I am happy just to let it be...
One service the crappy movie did was bring me back to Across the Universe the song. The naked version, specifically...
I find now that stripped of all the Spectorian strings I no longer care whether Lennon's reedy serenity signifies resignation or transcendence.
I am happy just to let it be...
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
MOBY DEEP
I was making a disco mix for the kids the other day, and I put Everytime You Touch Me on after the 12” mix of I Feel Love.
And you know what? Moby deserves some real love. Because Everything is Wrong is a start to finish album. One of the best of the 90s.
I don't have much use for any of his other stuff, but man, that one is sublime...
I was making a disco mix for the kids the other day, and I put Everytime You Touch Me on after the 12” mix of I Feel Love.
And you know what? Moby deserves some real love. Because Everything is Wrong is a start to finish album. One of the best of the 90s.
I don't have much use for any of his other stuff, but man, that one is sublime...
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
I SAW A FILM TODAY, OH BOY
It is with no sense of undue reverance for The Beatles that I mention I wasted two hours of my life on Saturday watching Across the Universe.
I suppose it was well made, and as far as mushy-headed love stories built around Beatles' songs go, it was a damn sight better than Sgt. Pepper's.
I can even see it developing a moderate cult following.
But jesus, there's a prospective cult that needs to have the ever-loving hippie kicked out of it...
It is with no sense of undue reverance for The Beatles that I mention I wasted two hours of my life on Saturday watching Across the Universe.
I suppose it was well made, and as far as mushy-headed love stories built around Beatles' songs go, it was a damn sight better than Sgt. Pepper's.
I can even see it developing a moderate cult following.
But jesus, there's a prospective cult that needs to have the ever-loving hippie kicked out of it...
Friday, February 08, 2008
DII
Our prices are so low, we're practically giving these posts away. Act now!
June 22, 2007
June 25, 2007
July 23,2007
July 24, 2007
August 28, 2007
October 4, 2007
November 29, 2007
December 3, 2007
December 20, 2007
January 10, 2008
January 29, 2008
Our prices are so low, we're practically giving these posts away. Act now!
June 22, 2007
June 25, 2007
July 23,2007
July 24, 2007
August 28, 2007
October 4, 2007
November 29, 2007
December 3, 2007
December 20, 2007
January 10, 2008
January 29, 2008
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Monday, February 04, 2008
AND I WOULD POST 500 FILES...
Back when I hit post #200, I did a top 10 best of/worst of list for the blog.
Well, here we are at post #500.
So in celebration of the milestone, this week I'm going to link back to some of my favorite posts from #201 through #499.
Just to ac-cent-tchu-ate the positive, is all...
June 19, 2006
July 12, 2006
July 28, 2006
August 25, 2006
September 12, 2006
September 14, 2006
September 15, 2006
September 25, 2006
September 29, 2006
October 19, 2006
Back when I hit post #200, I did a top 10 best of/worst of list for the blog.
Well, here we are at post #500.
So in celebration of the milestone, this week I'm going to link back to some of my favorite posts from #201 through #499.
Just to ac-cent-tchu-ate the positive, is all...
June 19, 2006
July 12, 2006
July 28, 2006
August 25, 2006
September 12, 2006
September 14, 2006
September 15, 2006
September 25, 2006
September 29, 2006
October 19, 2006
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
YESTERDAY'S GONE
I wrote this at lunch today, on the theory that the world needs more poems about Fleetwood Mac.
Fleetwood Mac
Eileen if I still knew you
I’d borrow your copy of Rumours
And put it on my iPod.
Well, everything except Oh Daddy
And Dreams. Ah, but maybe
I’d keep Dreams
To remind me of
Your love for Stevie.
Yes, I’d keep Dreams
Eileen if I still knew you.
I wrote this at lunch today, on the theory that the world needs more poems about Fleetwood Mac.
Fleetwood Mac
Eileen if I still knew you
I’d borrow your copy of Rumours
And put it on my iPod.
Well, everything except Oh Daddy
And Dreams. Ah, but maybe
I’d keep Dreams
To remind me of
Your love for Stevie.
Yes, I’d keep Dreams
Eileen if I still knew you.
Friday, January 25, 2008
SCISSORS
Taeko is now pretty much obsessed with the DDR I got her for our anniversary. Pretty good at it too.
Me? I'm like some sort of degilled marine creature flopping around on the land, trying to figure out just how these things you call "legs" work.
All the songs are knockoffs, but I'll be goddammed if even the fake version of I Don't Feel Like Dancin' is not totally awesome...
Taeko is now pretty much obsessed with the DDR I got her for our anniversary. Pretty good at it too.
Me? I'm like some sort of degilled marine creature flopping around on the land, trying to figure out just how these things you call "legs" work.
All the songs are knockoffs, but I'll be goddammed if even the fake version of I Don't Feel Like Dancin' is not totally awesome...
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Friday, January 18, 2008
YOU ARE A TAR-ZHAY MARKET
It’s pretty amazing how ambient music has evolved.
And here I don’t mean “ambient” as a specific genre or subgenre. Rather, I’m just talking about the music they play in public while you do stuff.
This afternoon in the men’s room at the Westin Alexandria, they played La Femme d'Argent by Air.
And the day after Christmas at the Potomac Mills food court, they were playing World Shut Your Mouth. Which is the most awesome choice of songs to play at a mall food court, for post-holiday Americans wallowing in obesity of body and spirit.
Most. Awesome. Choice. Ever.
Ambient Music Selecting Geniuses, I want to shake your hand.
I want to consume, piss quickly and efficiently, avoid the urge to shoplift, consume more, and then shake your blessed hand…
It’s pretty amazing how ambient music has evolved.
And here I don’t mean “ambient” as a specific genre or subgenre. Rather, I’m just talking about the music they play in public while you do stuff.
This afternoon in the men’s room at the Westin Alexandria, they played La Femme d'Argent by Air.
And the day after Christmas at the Potomac Mills food court, they were playing World Shut Your Mouth. Which is the most awesome choice of songs to play at a mall food court, for post-holiday Americans wallowing in obesity of body and spirit.
Most. Awesome. Choice. Ever.
Ambient Music Selecting Geniuses, I want to shake your hand.
I want to consume, piss quickly and efficiently, avoid the urge to shoplift, consume more, and then shake your blessed hand…
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
TEENAGER IN LOVE
Today is our 15th wedding anniversary, and Taeko slipped a card into my brown-bag lunch.
This is what she wrote:
“Thank you for being so nice to me for 15 years!”
My first reaction was to giggle a little.
But after about 30 seconds, I could feel the sentiment evolving, and a minute later I realized it was incredibly profound.
So thank you, Taeko, for bearing with me and my veneer of cynicism and irony.
Thank you for being so nice to me for 15 years…
Today is our 15th wedding anniversary, and Taeko slipped a card into my brown-bag lunch.
This is what she wrote:
“Thank you for being so nice to me for 15 years!”
My first reaction was to giggle a little.
But after about 30 seconds, I could feel the sentiment evolving, and a minute later I realized it was incredibly profound.
So thank you, Taeko, for bearing with me and my veneer of cynicism and irony.
Thank you for being so nice to me for 15 years…
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
HELLO PANDA
The problem with Person Pitch is that the first three songs sync up pretty well with the length of my commute.
And they're so fucking brill in both the "-iant" and "Building" sense that for the longest time I've lacked real motivation to get involved with tracks 4-7.
I'm sure that Comfy in Nautica/Take Pills/Bros will begin to pall soon, and when they do, woo hoo, more Panda Bear for me...
The problem with Person Pitch is that the first three songs sync up pretty well with the length of my commute.
And they're so fucking brill in both the "-iant" and "Building" sense that for the longest time I've lacked real motivation to get involved with tracks 4-7.
I'm sure that Comfy in Nautica/Take Pills/Bros will begin to pall soon, and when they do, woo hoo, more Panda Bear for me...
Thursday, January 10, 2008
PERSON PITCH
As it turns out, my brother was at game one of the 1986 WS. I didn’t know this until a few years later.
I was sitting in his rented house, the one where the wood floor in the living room sloped to the west, and squirrels breached the flue routinely. He was working the remote, and stopped at a Mets’ game.
“What are you doing? You hate baseball.”
And that was true, as far as I knew. Baseball was my thing.
Growing up, I had a bottomless chest of baseball cards in my room, and had memorized all sorts of arcane facts and records.
I spent many afternoons as a kid hurling a tennis ball against my garage door, pretending I was Jon Matlack or Jerry Koosman. I played in the neighborhood street games with the boys my brother’s age, who chose me for their side before they chose him. I played little league, made all-star teams, went out for celebratory pizza and soda with the coach.
And all the while my brother glowered at the game. Said it was for “pussies.”
Really what it had become was a symbol. A symbol of how much easier things seemed to be for me. A symbol of all his struggles in the world.
But as we sat quietly and watched the game together that night, so much of the accreted bitterness dissolved away.
We sat and we watched, and we did not make a sound for destiny to hear...
As it turns out, my brother was at game one of the 1986 WS. I didn’t know this until a few years later.
I was sitting in his rented house, the one where the wood floor in the living room sloped to the west, and squirrels breached the flue routinely. He was working the remote, and stopped at a Mets’ game.
“What are you doing? You hate baseball.”
And that was true, as far as I knew. Baseball was my thing.
Growing up, I had a bottomless chest of baseball cards in my room, and had memorized all sorts of arcane facts and records.
I spent many afternoons as a kid hurling a tennis ball against my garage door, pretending I was Jon Matlack or Jerry Koosman. I played in the neighborhood street games with the boys my brother’s age, who chose me for their side before they chose him. I played little league, made all-star teams, went out for celebratory pizza and soda with the coach.
And all the while my brother glowered at the game. Said it was for “pussies.”
Really what it had become was a symbol. A symbol of how much easier things seemed to be for me. A symbol of all his struggles in the world.
But as we sat quietly and watched the game together that night, so much of the accreted bitterness dissolved away.
We sat and we watched, and we did not make a sound for destiny to hear...
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
SYMPATHY FOR THE RED SOX
Among my 2007 holiday swag was the nine DVD collection of every game of the 1986 World Series, plus the sixth and deciding game of the NLCS.
I have now watched the playoff game and the first WS game.
And going back to the beginning and starting with game one of the series raises the whole experience-- which exists in the memory as high drama-- to the level of Classical tragedy.
At the outset of that first broadcast, Vin Scully notes the heroic effort being put forth by Bill Buckner.
Scully returns again and again to the image of the hobbled warrior, who is earning the respect of friend and foe just by being out there.
And it is truly painful to watch, particularly when Scully points out that one of Buckner’s legs has atrophied due to his injuries. You squint a little and swear that you can notice the difference.
Then with the Sox holding a 1-0 lead, John McNamara replaces Buckner with Dave Stapleton for defensive purposes, and even the most hardened Mets fan must get a catch in the throat.
I muttered “Learn from that” under my breath when I watched this time around, but of course destiny did not listen...
Among my 2007 holiday swag was the nine DVD collection of every game of the 1986 World Series, plus the sixth and deciding game of the NLCS.
I have now watched the playoff game and the first WS game.
And going back to the beginning and starting with game one of the series raises the whole experience-- which exists in the memory as high drama-- to the level of Classical tragedy.
At the outset of that first broadcast, Vin Scully notes the heroic effort being put forth by Bill Buckner.
Scully returns again and again to the image of the hobbled warrior, who is earning the respect of friend and foe just by being out there.
And it is truly painful to watch, particularly when Scully points out that one of Buckner’s legs has atrophied due to his injuries. You squint a little and swear that you can notice the difference.
Then with the Sox holding a 1-0 lead, John McNamara replaces Buckner with Dave Stapleton for defensive purposes, and even the most hardened Mets fan must get a catch in the throat.
I muttered “Learn from that” under my breath when I watched this time around, but of course destiny did not listen...
Friday, January 04, 2008
TORQUED TONGUE
Things I learned on my winter break, part 1.
Panda Bear’s Comfy in Nautica makes a great soundtrack for your first car accident, particularly if the collision occurs on a road that encircles a large shopping mall.
Ah, sweet irony…
Here’s the damage report, for those of you scoring at home.
Body and spirit: undamaged. Car: $4,800.
Things I learned on my winter break, part 1.
Panda Bear’s Comfy in Nautica makes a great soundtrack for your first car accident, particularly if the collision occurs on a road that encircles a large shopping mall.
Ah, sweet irony…
Here’s the damage report, for those of you scoring at home.
Body and spirit: undamaged. Car: $4,800.
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