Posts Tagged meta-blogging

As Always, Rocking Your Socks

13 April 2008

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  frustrated

Before I get started, you may notice the new sock-rocking graphic above.  I took a cue from the Reverend Horton Heat’s blog and realized that I could easily add an awesome header to my blog rather than settle for plain old text.  I was looking for an excuse to play in Photoshop and to use the tweed texture I created years back.  I thought I’d go for a Fender Bassman theme, but I took some liberties, and admittedly I lost steam near the end.  Perhaps in the future I will spruce it up some more… or even occasionally rotate the graphics up there.  I’m too lazy/busy to maintain my website these days, so this is my one chance to exercise my Photoshop muscles.  So anyway, my point is that I have retired my blog’s previous (and original) title, “Soapboxing: Why did God curse me with this enormous intellect?”  As of today, my blog is officially reborn as “This Charming Ben Rocks Your Socks.”  I promise I will try to live up to that title.

CONVERSION NOTICE: Since you can’t see the aforementioned header graphic in place up top the way you would have on MySpace, I’ll just post it here below.  Click it to see it full-sized.

The biggest news of late is that I heard from one of my last long-lost friends after 12+ years.  My best friend in 8th grade was a guy named Brad.  We really only became good friends that year, and then he moved to Australia the following summer.  He visited once a year or two later, but after that we lost touch… and my Google and MySpace searches for him over the past years produced bupkis.  Well he messaged me out of the blue the other day!  I believe he is that last of a handful of long-losts that I’d hoped to reconnect with someday… I’m looking forward to hearing about what a decade of Aussie life has done to him.

I saw an unusual movie last week called “A Colt Is My Passport.”  It’s a Japanese “Nikkatsu Action” flick that Colin brought me to.  I guess this is a genre of stylized action that had its heyday in the late 50’s and early 60’s in Japan, covering topics like the Yakuza, hitmen, and general mayhem.  Think “what Kill Bill was paying homage to.”  The one we saw appeared heavily influenced by the Leone spaghetti westerns that were just coming out a few years before.  It was all part of the “No Borders, No Limits” series at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts.  The series is over now, but I’d be interested in exploring more of these films in the future.

Do you recall my yearning for a very hard-to-find white Levi’s jean jacket?  Or how about the general women’s hatred of white jeans on men (both Nick and Orlie have worn them on stage)?  Well sweet vindication is ours this week as Levi’s Spring fashions have appeared on the front page of Levi’s website and what’s the theme?  WHITEOUT!  Guess what the hot color is this season.  White jeans are all the rage, and a new white men’s jacket is available.  I will be checking it out tomorrow and possibly putting this yearning to rest once and for all.  See bitches, we’re just months/years ahead of fashion trends.

And speaking of white jean haters, my old Les Paul — which has been with me at nearly every show since the Summer of 2006, which took a glass to the face at Vertigo’s last year, and which has been admired by many — is going to a good home.  The best possible home really, all things considered.  Who else but Charlene, who so often expressed her approval by screaming “fuckin’ Les Paul!” at shows.  Honestly, how could it end up with anyone else?

I have Dori to thank for recently including an image from, a site that I had forgotten about.  Basically they take old line art completely out of context and add quotes/context to them.  And they get funnier once you’ve seen a few and kinda get the style a bit more.  If you have the time while bored at work or whatev, I seriously recommend going through all of the archives.  Holy shit, I can surf that site for hours and not stop laughing.  For example:

I never thought I was claustrophobic.  The other day, I learned I was wrong.  I was in a very crowded elevator and we got stuck.  It took a few seconds to dawn on me exactly what was happening, but when it did, I immediately felt trapped like a rat.  I was in the back of the elevator, and I had to fight the urge to push my way to the front and go Ludo on the door and rip it open.  It makes no sense… I could be in a moving elevator for 30 floors without batting an eyelash, but the second I knew we weren’t moving, I panicked.  In the end, I did manage to keep my cool, but just barely.  As the others in the elevator talked to the operator on the emergency phone and I heard they were dispatching an engineer… I started to imagine being stuck in a standing-room-only elevator with a half dozen other people… and I wanted to yack.  Thankfully it did not come to that.  This kind of nausea thing has happened to me more over the years.  Is this a part of getting old…?

Did I mention I got new glasses?  Me gusta!  I guess I should probably have a picture to accompany this comment.  I don’t.

Some great shows are coming up!  Check my MySpace calendar… The Bad Plus, being one of the only jazz bands I can tolerate.  R.E.M. who I’ve never seen live.  The Black Angels who I’ve been looking forward to seeing too, and then Flight Of The Conchords which will undoubtedly be hilarious!  So the question is: who else is going to these?  Let me know!

I had a pretty good weekend.  The weather around here was amazing!  Hot, even.  And that led to a great blanket of fog in my neighborhood earlier this evening.  Getting to be out in the sun a bit was refreshing.  I spent a fair amount of time with Shel, brunching yesterday at Savor, shopping in Noe and the Haight.  Lunch and a Cafe Gratitude shake today.  Both days forcing me to walk out and be in the sun.  And I drank a fuckload of iced tea.  Shel’s fault.

Last night, I went to Club Gossip for the first time in many months.  It was alright, but the crowd there was a little weird.  On the plus side, many friends were in attendance.  But even so, there were just lots of creepy folks, and everyone seemed to be having a bad night.  Though I did not see the pierced piggy guy.  (A quick review has shown me that I failed to mention him in previous blogs… at New Wave City last time, there was this Buffalo-Bill-lookin’ guy on the dance floor slithering around, shirtless and tugging on his nipple rings.  And he had a bull ring in his nose that he’d occasionally pull up to give himself a pigface for a while.  He would just kind of slowly spin around as if to see if anyone had locked onto him and was interested in what he was doing.  No one was.)

Dance clubs lately have been a mixed bag.  On the one hand, it’s usually fulfilling to get out in a social situation, meet new people, and dance to some of my favorite music.  On the other hand, the scene in the Bay Area is relatively small, and it’s near impossible to avoid running into the same people regularly.  Sometimes this is a good thing… running into old friends, going somewhere everybody knows your name, etc.  But just as often, you’re running into people you don’t want to see.  Crashing bores, or your enemies, or your friends’ enemies.  People you’re not supposed to acknowledge.  People you’re supposed to pretend you don’t know.  People you’re supposed to pretend you don’t have miles of dirt on.  In this small scene, it’s all very incestuous and gossipy.  I feel suffocated by it sometimes.  It’s starting to ruin SF nightlife for me.  Everyone knows everyone, everybody sees everything, and everything eventually reaches the ears you hoped it wouldn’t.  “What’s done in the dark will be brought to the light.”  We live in the information age.  There are no secrets.

Finally, I continue to struggle with trying to figure out what the hell I want from a love life.  Confused as always, trying to understand my patterns rather than blindly follow them.  At the same time trying not to overthink things and miss out on living in the moment.  Getting over and getting past.  Nothing’s changed.  Stop me if you think that you’ve heard this one before.

OK, that’s all for now kiddies.  The unintentionally-Steven-Wright-worthy quote of the week comes once again from Jamie, in what I think is an unprecedented 2nd week in a row!

“I don’t even remember the last time I blacked out.”

Crazy Love

28 January 2008

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  bummed

It’s been a rainy few weeks.  Part of my street was closed off for a while, what with it having sunken into the lake.  But aside from the occasional power outage, things seem to be back to normal around here.

I had sushi (vegetarian, of course) with Sus, Shel, and Colin the other night.  It had been months.  So delish.

This last weekend was our TCB show in Sacramento.  It was one to remember.  For whatever reason, we decided to “really give them their money’s worth” and play until the club made us stop.  We played around 30 songs I think… 2.5 hours all told.  Only about 25 of those songs had been practiced recently, so it got a little sloppy near the end… but the crowd was a little sloppy too by then.  :)  The crowd was a good size, and as before, it was made up of hardcore Smiths/Moz fans which is great.  The Choir Boys were out in force.  And of course, our own transportable front row of Sus and Shel were in attendance — this time with Colin in tow.  We (the band) unleashed a few new ones (Sheila Take A Bow, My Love Life, and Interesting Drug).  Orlando and I shared a dance during Barbarism, and he (appropriately) pointed to me during the, “he’s just too good-looking,” lines of Boy Racer.  We also made an effort to cut down on the lag time between songs, and it seemed to really help the energy and pace of the show.  So that’s an improvement I think we’ll stick with!

The only damper on the night, aside from the rain, was the unfortunate fight that broke out on stage between some of the girlfriends.  I won’t go into detail, but the whole spectacle was disappointing, and I’m sure the crowd was not thrilled with it.  Very un-Smiths, and very unexpected.  My apologies to anyone who witnessed it, and I hope it didn’t ruin the show for you.  People acting crazy, kind of a bummer.  I just tried to stay out of it.  None of us were hurt, and as far as I know, there was no damage to any equipment.  After the show ended and some more craziness ensued, we eventually ate at Ink (as is our tradition) and headed back to the hotel.  When all was said and done, I ended up sharing a hotel room with Colin and falling asleep to the sound of his many dead-on impressions.

A side note for you guitarists and/or Marr aficionados… after some great catching up with Peter last week, and some typical lively discussion about “How Soon Is Now?”, I changed the way I play it yet again and I think this latest incarnation is the closest to the album yet.  Next time you see us, you’ll have to let me know what you think.  That’s the thing about Johnny Marr… just when you think you have it totally figured out, you listen again and you hear something you missed.  I’ve learned that when it comes to Johnny, you just never have it totally figured out.  But it’s nice to be able to revisit his songs over and over and always learn something about them that I missed before.

Speaking of studying Marr… I finally saw The Sweet And Tender Hooligans when they played in SF a week ago.  I could write pages on what I saw (or didn’t see).  I’ve met one of them, and he was really nice… but the fact is, we are not even in the same building as these guys.  You come see us, you’re going to see a rock and roll show (and apparently, the occasional girl fight).  You go see them and you’re going to get what Morrissey would sound like as elevator music.  I hope they aren’t shooting just-like-the-album-note-for-note perfect, because none of the songs were close to that level of detail — the kind of attention to detail that I hope TCB is known for.  Let’s just say I don’t think their guitarists sit around and discuss the finer points of Marr the way Peter and I do.  Anyway, the whole show was exactly what I had expected… soft… tame… limp.  Again, I could write volumes, but I’ll leave it at that.  No one could see us both and prefer them.  It’s impossible.

Changing gears… you’ve got to watch this video of a polar bear cub (embedded below for your convenience).  I can so relate.  It might as well be a home video from my house, circa 1979. Starts off slow, but picks up…

OK, that’s all for now.  Before I go, I wanted to mention that I looked and saw that this is actually my 170th blog.  Do you believe that shit?  I didn’t either.  I spent some time yesterday going through some of my old ones (with such clever titles as “Better Living Through Morrissey” and “OuijaSpace, OuijaSpace, can you help me?” and “American, Idle“) and then some of my super emo ones (such as “That’s The Story Of My Life” and “Untitled” and “I’m Worth A Million In Prizes“), and I have to say what a treasure it is to have those around.  I never kept a journal when I was growing up, so I really only have the past few years of my life documented, but to go back and see what I was writing when I last moved, or when TCB was just starting up, or when I first met this or that friend… well it’s nice to see the continuity.  I also think my blog quality was much better then.  I’m not as clever as I used to be.  You should read some of those old ones.  You’ll see.  I guess you guys won’t find them as interesting as I do, but I could seriously go back and read the last 169 of them back to back.  Feel free to do so yourself.  :)

The quote of the week comes from me… I forget what the exact sentence was, but in an email the other day, I started a sentence with “had I had had” which I believe is correct grammar, and I also believe is notable.  I’m sure Jessica will correct me on both counts.

Had I had had that email handy, I would have been able to include the actual sentence when I wrote this blog.”

Feast or Famine

5 June 2007

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood: numb

At the time of my posting this, I am apparently 4 views short of 10,000 lifetime blog views.  I am confident that by the time you’re reading this, we’ll have crossed the threshold.  Thank you for your support.

I’ve had an unexpected and bizarre couple of weeks.  This last weekend I went to Nikki’s birthday show at the Knock Out… Japanese Baby has really improved!  Patty’s on keys now, they had some new songs, and in general they were much tighter than before.  It was a lot of fun… and then the next night I ended up at Leisure.  I have a vague recollection of Tom Collins, playing an inflatable guitar alongside Orlie while he sang “Bigmouth Strikes Again” at karaoke, and I believe some drunk texting or whatever the pansy psuedo-buzzed version of that I’m capable of is.

The weekend before that was the three-day one… that Friday night, I joined Sus and Shel to see Louis XIV.  I didn’t know any of their music going into it, and I gotta say that I got more of a “Foreigner” vibe than anything else.  They seemed a little simplistic and amateur to me… plus they have some big hit which is a bigger rip-off of “Metal Guru” than “Panic” is.  But I still had a lot of fun seeing the girls, and it was totally worth it.  Saturday, I made it out to the Blank to see Sik Luv and the Phenomenauts… I ran into an old friend and got to spend the night catching up.  Oh, and then I got dragged to Death Guild (the Monday night SF goth club) and got virtually no sleep before work on Tuesday morning.  But again, it was worth it.  That’s a weird crowd, but I had an experienced guide.

In guitar news, I still haven’t had any luck selling those two guitars (Flamekat and ES-295), but I did get my ES-335, and it is glorious.  The craftsmanship is top-notch… and you can really tell the difference that this is the real deal.  I won’t bore you with any more details about it, but yeah, it’s good.  It will be debuting at a TCB show this month… more on that in a moment.  Do you remember how on old kids shows like Sesame Street and 3-2-1 Contact, they’d have little music videos that would show the whole process at something like a crayon factory, or a taffy maker?  You’d see the wax melted down, then poured out, then cooled, then wrapped in paper and packaged up?  Well looky what I found… if you’re at all interested in how they make a Gibson 335.

Ah crap, that reminds me… in other guitar news, you know how I recently gave Dad my little Stratocaster knock-off I used to travel with?  Well I thought maybe he’d play it a little and forget about it.  Wrong.  He liked it so much, he went out and bought some fancy-ass Fender Strat.  This bothers me for many reasons.  First off, I may have awakened a dormant guitar habit in my dad… he’s gaining on me.  Second, I just knew that having that Strat, even the cheapy, would come back to haunt me eventually.  I should have burned it when I had the chance.  Now it’s converted my own father!  Who knows what other damage it will do?  One Strat to rule them all.

In my trying to rationalize the cost of that 335, I’ve been getting creative.  Re-examining my expenditures and such.  Well, I took my jar of change down to a CoinStar machine… turns out it was about $100!  How about that shit?

I’ve got some good weekends coming up here, kiddies.  This weekend I’ll be going with Sus and Nick to Hollywood to see our beloved Moz.  From there, we’re off to catch him again in Las Vegas!  This insanity would make no sense in any other context, but I feel that most of the people who read this will understand completely.

Then next Wednesday (6/13), the 12 Galaxies will see a first ever all-acoustic show from Orlie, Nick, and I.  We’ll be playing your favorite Smiths and Moz tunes with an acoustic guitar, a snare drum, and not much else.  If you can make it out to the Mission on a Wednesday night, you’re in for something you’ve never heard before.  And then we’re off to Vegas again, this time as our fully-electric selves as we hit the Beauty Bar in Las Vegas on Saturday (6/16).  This is our first out-of-state gig, and it should be wild!  Not to mention it will see the debut of that new 335… my only guitar for the night.  We’ll see how that goes.

So “feast or famine”… I started out with the best of intentions, but I no longer feel up to explaining myself on that one.  The short version is that too much of anything is every bit as bad as too little.  And it’s always one or the other.

About an hour ago, I received a phone call informing me that my grandfather has died.  I don’t know what I’m supposed to be feeling, but I’m pretty sure I’m not feeling it.

Da Bears…

1 October 2006

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  mellow

… and 99 Other Chicago Stereotypes, which so far appear to all be true.

I’m writing to you from a hotel near O’Hare in Chicago.  The people here really do talk funny like the old SNL sketch, so at least there’s that.  I’ve seen a few of those messy bowl haircuts and thick mustaches too.  I thought that was supposed to be a joke?  It’s like 1983 all over again.

I would paste a picture from O’Hare here if I had time to figure out how to get it from phone to blog.  Maybe later.  Or maybe one of my bitches will do it for me.  You know who you are.  *whiplash*

Before I forget, Jared is coming to San Francisco this week, so I’ll get to see him hopefully when I get home.  There’s a good chance he’ll make it to This Charming Band‘s Ireland’s 32 show this Saturday which will be both the first time he’s ever seen us play as well as a rare chance for you to meet him if you haven’t yet.  Remember also that this is Peter’s last official show with TCB!

The plans to go see Scissor Sisters on Friday didn’t happen (due to an unfortunate ticket mix-up), but it ended up being a fun night anyway.  Sus sadly had to cut out early, but Shel and Nick and I pressed on to Pop Roxx at the DNA Lounge.  We met up with Ozzolini and Meredith as well as several other club friends.  The music was horrific and it was broken up by a performance by a local band called “Triple Cobra.”  It was kinda like New York Dolls meets White Stripes only not very good.  The only thing I can say about them is that they use the old G.I. Joe “Cobra” insignia as part of their logo.  I’m jealous I didn’t think of that first.  Although I bet the band’s using it illegally.  But then, I suppose that’s the Cobra way.  Cobra-la-la-la-la-la!!!

Saturday was the Download Festival, and that one actually did happen.  At the Shoreline, Shel and Nick and I ended up going together and we caught all of the important bands.  Some of the peripheral festivities included a garage band competition where you sign up on the spot and some instruments are already set up for you to walk up and use.  It was even “staged” in a fake garage complete with basketball and hoop.  Too bad only Nick and I were there to represent, because I think TCB would have slayed them.  As it was though, the illustrious “Chesterfield Trio” was called up and could not find their drummer.  Our man Nick volunteered and played three songs with them, totally ad-libbed!  Amazing!  So I guess technically Nick played the 2006 Download Festival.  He also successfully rode a little kid’s bigwheel that we found.  I’m sure pictures will surface on MySpace very soon.

Thanks to Sus, we had 5th row seats, center stage!  I have a whole new appreciation for seeing big bands up close now that I know a little bit about what it’s like to be on that side of things.  It’s always neat to see how the big boys do their thing.  The answer is: roadies, and lots of them.  We caught the last half of the Shins set, as well as Muse (really good live showmen, but I won’t be buying any of their albums).  The Yeah Yeah Yeahs were great too, and Karen O was out there as crazy as ever.  She was dressed in a shiny green dragon costume/leotard that looked like it came from an elementary school play.  At times, she even had a little dragon hat on, bounding across the stage and spitting water into the air.  The core trio was joined by a 4th man (bass/guitar/keys) who sat idle on the floor facing away from the crowd during all the songs from the first YYY album.  The unwanted 4th wheel, as it were.

Beck was the headliner, and he put on a memorable show.  There was a marionette puppet show in the middle of the stage which included a puppet for each band member (dressed identically and holding identically modeled instruments).  They danced and sang along with the real band they shared the stage with.  The puppet show even had its own psychedelic lightshow (matching the real band’s) and a little puppet cameraman with a working “puppet cam” providing a real-time puppet’s-eye view onto the Shoreline’s jumbotron screens.  Later in the set, Beck played solo acoustic while the rest of his band ate dinner at a table right in the middle of the stage.  Eventually, they all broke into a Stomp-like percussive jam with spoons and plates and glasses.  What a creative fella that Beck is.  Oh, and insane.  I’m only sorry that I was so tired I dozed a bit during his set.  No reflection on him though.  Fucking puppets?  Man, I wish I’d thought of that.

Shifting gears…

I never know what to put as my “mood” on these blogs.  They all so sound so extreme.  How often am I really “ecstatic” or “infuriated?”  I need something a little less committal.  Although I do like that you can plug whatever you’re reading or watching(?) or listening to.  My only suggestion would be to add “what I’m currently eating” to that list.

I’ve been a little creeped out on how all the books I’ve read recently seem to relate very much to my life, and in some cases, explicitly reference things and places I do or go to.  In one such fiction, a hit man buys a dog at a pet store I went to while in Phoenix last month.  Another references my exact car.  OK, maybe lame coincidences, but it really makes the fiction real for me.  Both bizarre and totally neato.

I’m reading Chuck Palahniuk’s latest, and good Lord he is a genius.  This is an author that should receive public funding so that he can turn out work undisturbed.  This new one, Haunted, is kicking my ass.  One passage was actually so upsetting that I had to stop reading on the plane because I thought I was going to throw up.  That’s some quality writing.

In one (non-stomach-turning) passage, an extremely wealthy character is describing how being a billionaire socialite has bored her and how “poor is the new rich.”  The extensive travelling she’s done has effectively shrunken the world for her:

“Taking the Lear jet from here to Rome in six hours, it’s made escaping too easy.  The world feels so small and played out.  Globe-trotting is just the chance to feel bored more places, faster.  A boring breakfast in Bali.  A predictable lunch in Paris.  A tedious dinner in New York, and falling asleep, drunk, during just another blow job in L.A.”

OK, so that isn’t my life exactly, but it definitely sums up my feelings about too much travel in general.  In the past few years of consulting, I’ve flown all over the U.S. and been to places I would have never gone otherwise.  And for all the fun I’ve had, you know what I’m left with?  The feeling that world is a lot smaller than I thought.  Phoenix is Denver is Atlanta is… Chicago.  An over-simplification, I know, but honestly.  It becomes “no big deal.”  And I don’t like that.

I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve always been comforted by the idea that there’s a whole big world out there that I will never understand.  I don’t ever want to be so used to cities all over the world that they become indistiguishable from each other.  I don’t ever want to feel like it’s all old hat.  I don’t want to discover all of the world’s secrets.  It’s much more valuable to me to always know that there is a great unknown out there yet to be discovered.  Sometimes I’d rather let myself imagine how amazing and wonderful some far-off place might be, rather than stay there for two weeks and see that it’s the same old place but with different street names.

Chicago is the new San Diego.

Who’s gonna love you when your looks are gone?

22 May 2006

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  optimistic

First and foremost, happy birthday to Morrissey, who turns 47 today.  I love you forever.

Has it only been a week since RockIt Room?  It seems like ages ago.  I think that’s a good sign though.  Maybe time is slowing down for me again.  Everytime I blink, another year has gone by.  Twenty something, San Francisco.  These are supposed to be the best years of my life, right?  Well they’re pretty fucking good, I’ll give them that.  I just wish they’d stay a while.  I’m a year away from my ten year high school reunion now.

But what can you do, right?  Pack as much as you can into the time you do have, I suppose.  And this was one of those weekends.  Did you notice my use of italics just then?  I got in trouble with a girl once over my use of italics.  I am very fond of them.  They, as I was unto said girl, are so misunderstood.  Anyway…

Actually, one more thing.  I remember that for a while, I was writing some interesting things in me blogs.  I don’t know what happened, but somewhere along the line, this thing became a recurring log of what I did the previous weekend.  I wonder why that is.  I’ll try to be more interesting, I promise.  Pinky swear.  Starting next blog.

I met Maya’s fiancé on Friday.  He was nice, but as you might imagine, we didn’t have much to talk about.  I mean, I don’t imagine he’s looking for me to be his new best friend.  I’m usually pretty quiet around people I don’t know, and I gather he is too.  End result: only a moderately awkward evening.  We all went and saw the Da Vinci Code.  To me, it amounted to an attempt at a more serious and complex Indiana Jones.  To be fair, I haven’t read the book though.  Maya (who knows some of my traits from before I was smart enough to conceal them) correctly asserted that I haven’t read the book for no other reason than everyone else was reading it and fuck them.

As I was leaving the theater in Emeryville, I somehow managed to get lost in the ghettos of west Oakland.  So it’s around midnight, and I’m speeding through these dark, empty streets looking for a freeway entrance.  And for a moment, I forget something very important.  What do we know about ghetto streets?  They have giant dips and potholes that the city ignores.  I hit an adjacent pair of dips in the road at about 55mph… bottoming out my car and almost losing control altogether.  Did I stop?  Of course not.  I eventually got home and there appears to be no damage… I was sure I’d have a couple of flats at least.  We’ll see if car problems surface in the near future.  I wonder if I escaped like… a ghetto booby trap?

Saturday afternoon, I had the great pleasure of eating, shopping, and bonding with Shel.  I would like to reiterate that I’ve never had such a perfect circle of amazing people in my life.  The Gang is strong.  Once Jared returns, we’ll be unstoppable.  Rival gangs, beware.

Saturday night was Nick and I at the Blank Club to watch a fashion show involving (who else?) the drunken Sparks girls!  I’ve spent enough time with them now that, while they are still very deserving of that moniker, I should call them by their propers Dori (self-proclaimed queen of the Zeitgeist punks) and Lydia (whose hair at the show was… dangerous).  Thanks for having us along… next fashion show I model in, I’ll be sure to invite you two.

After band practice last night, Ozzolini, Nick, and I grabbed some Thai food at a place doing karaoke.  This place had Smiths/Moz, a ton of obscure 80’s, and… Tenacious D.  Gang, look for a karaoke night to be organized soon.

This Charming Band‘s next show is on Saturday at Ireland’s 32.  We’ll be playing just about every song we know, so come out to the city and… well, I guess get drunk and dance to live Smiths songs.  Weez gots three new ones for youz this time around.  Wouldn’t you like to know.

You guys like Donovan?  If you remember the Jethro Tull kick I was on last Fall… well, it’s happening again.  This time with Donovan.  What could I possibly want with the quintessential hippy cosmic Scottish effeminate quirky folk troubadour?  You can blame mom for that one.  I inherited my taste for him.  He’s got solid street cred though… he was recording songs with three of the four members of Led Zeppelin (before they were Led Zeppelin) as well as Paul McCartney and… well, look it up.

Morrissey, Paul Simon, Donovan… guys like that, they just write and write song after song, each an amazing piece of work.  I think writing a song is about the best thing you can do.  To have written something like “I Know It’s Over” or “The Boxer” is to validate your whole existence.  To leave just one song like that behind when you leave the earth means that you deserved to be here.  And to leave dozens of them… well, I’ll have the peanut butter and jealousy on wheat, please.

In closing, I love California weather.  After it was a scorching 83° last week all over the Bay, I was all too happy to see some serious rainfall over the weekend.  Along with some less welcome muggy weather.  Like Hawaii.  Speaking of which… how’s beach life, Sus?

“Make a wish and close your eyes: surprise, surprise, surprise.”


21 July 2004

Achtung!  You are at the absolute furthest reaches of this blog.  There are no entries before this date.  (Unless I someday decide to be clever and write historical blogs on significant past dates, like July 4th, 1776, etc.)

What follows are the 250+ blogs I originally wrote on MySpace between 2004 and early 2010, i.e. the Dark Ages.  Details on the very manual conversion process to get them here can be found in the FAQ.  In January 2010, I started up here on WordPress, and so that’s where my continued writings native to this platform begin.  The New Testament, as it were.  Enjoy!

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