Posts Tagged movies

… in which I battle tempests, earthquakes, and the FDA.

19 October 2009

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: tired tired

Getting right to it… a couple weekends ago… is kind of a blur at this point, but I remember that I somehow ended up eating at Chevy’s twice in the same weekend.  I also had the longest day I’ve had in a while.  It included selling a pedal board to a church, shopping at Target, a birthday dinner in Oakland, Club Gossip, Delirium, some warehouse, and driving some drunk guy home.  It was nearly a full 24 hours awake, followed by two full nights’ sleep within the next 24 hours.  This bizarre shift in my sleep pattern led to me getting up for work early that Monday.  I stuck with it and arrived early for work all week, which never happens.  I’m trying to ride that wave as long as I can, because it’s got a lot of benefits.  Among other things, I saw a sunrise.  It occurs to me that in my lifetime, I’ve seen more sunrises before going to bed than I have just leaving for the day.  Starting my day that early always reminds me of vacations.  The only time I usually ever start my day that early is when I’m catching a flight or beginning a long drive somewhere.  Something else I noticed… it’s crowded downtown!  Usually, by the time I’m rolling in, the FiDi seems pretty quiet.  But when you’re out there early, there’s considerably more hustle and bustle.  Makes me feel more a part of things down there.  Me gusta!

Oh, and it rained cats and dogs for one day.  More rain in one day than we usually get in the month of October, apparently.  And over 200 car accidents in the Bay Area that day.  Nice.  Luckily it remained clear the rest of the week and most of this last weekend, allowing me to spend a Saturday shopping with Majik, Booty, and Mr. and Mrs. Balls.  Not to mention seeing Dad’s new band for the first time… a great show in Santa Cruz that was followed by a delicious return to Mobo Sushi and its colossal menu.

Surely most of the people reading this will be aware that Morrissey is coming to town.  I’m curious to know if we’ll be hearing some new songs.  I was fortunate enough to have the incomparable Sus locate a pit ticket for me, so that’s where I will be.  I won’t tell you what it cost, but it was a lot.  Way too much.  It’s the fault of those scumbags the ticketbrokers.  I ranted about that once before, so I’ll spare you this time.  But suffice it to say that in the context of luxury problems and as a fan of live music, I consider these guys to be the scum of the earth.

You may also have heard that last Saturday was the 20th anniversary of the Loma Prieta earthquake.  Holy shit, I’m old.  I was living in the South Bay in those days, and I was what, 10?  I don’t have a lot of clear memories about the event, but I think I was playing “Legendary Wings” on Nintendo.  And we spent the night at Jonah’s house.  And the schools were closed for a day or two.  I can’t even imagine what it was like for people living here in the city at the time.  Now that I live here, it’s hard to comprehend some of the damage that San Francisco suffered at the time.  (Do you remember where you were?)

We’ve lost a lot of celebrities these last few months, but I wanted to mention one that may have been overlooked.  Wrestling personality Captain Lou Albano died last week at the age of 76.  He was one of the biggest icons in the mid-80’s when I was into it, and of course the tie-in with Cyndi Lauper and The Goonies.  R.I.P.

We’ve also lost Reno 911, which I’m very sorry to report was recently cancelled.  It’s one of my favorite shows on T.V., not least because it includes ex-members of The State (such as Thomas Lennon, Moz fan and misguided SATH fan).

Watching that Goonies video reminds me that Halloween is coming up pretty quick here.  What are the plans?  I know that Zombie Morrissey night is happening that weekend, which could be fun.  I’m not necessarily jazzed about dressing up, but it’s not out of the question.  What’s going on for Halloween folks?

The quote of the week is one of my favorite horoscopes yet from The Onion:

“You’ll struggle to find a sympathetic ear this week when the FDA lowers its recommended daily intake of your goddamn bullshit.”

Hey Sugar, take a walk on the wild side…

8 October 2009

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: crappy hungover

My neighborhood, which is quiet and all but a ghost town for 359 days of the year, is currently in the throes of its annual golf tournament.  I’ve woken up every morning this week to find my street, which is normally empty, instead lined with hundreds of cars, already parked.  Who’s up that early, and for golf?  Supposedly Tiger Woods, Michael Jordan, Bill Clinton, and whoever else are all around here somewhere.  Word is Obama himself might show up.  Based on previous years of experience, I can look forward to having to show my ID at a police road block just to get into my driveway.  And this morning was no different.  Sure, it’s unusual, but it’s not that much of a hassle.  Though it didn’t help that I was a bit… hungover?  Let me back up.

Last weekend started off with an Ocean Beach bonfire among friends.  Saw some old friends, made some new ones.  It was lovely until the cops came along to shut us down, which I guess they do to everyone around 10pm.  The next night I got to see a couple of bands I’d been meaning to for a while: The Pine Box Boys (not bad) and then the headliners, Denver’s Slim Cessna’s Auto Club (who were excellent).  They were similar to The Legendary Shack Shakers, if a bit less… kinetic.  Great tunes though, no shortage of banjos, and every bit as dark and revival.  Highly recommended.

Sunday, a coworker of mine from out of state came to visit San Francisco for the first time.  I spent the afternoon playing tour guide and doing all the things I only ever do with out-of-towners… the Golden Gate, Pier 39, etc.  Plus some local favorites like Savor, Amoeba, and Cha Cha Cha.  I gotta admit, it was a blast.  And then with someone in town, it was much easier to wrangle other folks for a happy hour last night (which normally just doesn’t seem to be part of our collective culture, though I’m hoping to get more of those going in the future).  Anyway, long story short… I ended up agreeing to a half a shot of tequila near the end of the night (being the first drink I’ve had in a year).  I know that’s not much, and it doesn’t sound possible, but I’m telling you… I felt anxious and jumpy the second I swallowed it, and for the rest of the night.  Then I woke up this morning feeling like dogshit, and for the rest of the day.  It’s probably all in my head, but just the same.  I guess I’ve already lost what little tolerance I had.  Blame in on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol.  Nice experiment, but not sure I’ll be resuming my drinking career any time soon.

I also saw Zombieland this week.  It was fantastic.  Easily one of the best movies I’ve seen this year, which probably sounds silly.  It’s funny and stylish and just really well done.  Maybe even worth seing again, and how often do you see a movie in the theater twice?  OK, well maybe you often do, but I never do.  As a bonus, there were several great trailers for upcoming flicks, including this one…

OK, I have to admit something.  I somehow managed to go the last year or however long without hearing a single note of Lady Gaga’s music.  Not the least because I’ve made zero attempt to find out, and I don’t exactly keep up on my MTV, you know.  I knew nothing about her, just like I know nothing about a fuck ton of other recently-relevant bands that I only hear about in passing.  Well I saw the video for “Paparazzi” the other day and… I liked it.  It’s dark.  What’s more, I went and bought the album.  I don’t know what that means, and I don’t want to know.

Holy shit, that reminds me… did you hear Rhino Records is going away?  Maybe number one on my list of companies I wanted to work for someday.  I was such a fan of and believer in their vision of resurrecting, remastering, and reissuing great music in vast retrospectives.  I guess it’s another casualty of the economy, and perhaps the move to mp3 culture, but who is going to fill that void now?  Who’s going to unearth and clean up the classics for us?  I am heartbroken.  :(

A general comment on life lately.  My radar can’t be that far off, can it?  I’m like a blind-folded kid gunning for a piñata.  Swing and a miss.  (And a miss… and oh yeah, another miss.)

“It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble.  It’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so.”
— Mark Twain

Be still, my bleating heart!

14 February 2009

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:  full

It’s been miserably cold and rainy here in the city.  My nemesis (lotion) has been a necessity due to the dry air of this cold snap.  But it didn’t stop me from making it out to Louder Than Bombs last night.  I can’t say I like going all the way out to the FiDi the same way I liked it in the Mish, but a night of Smiths is a night of Smiths, and LTB is like the Bat-signal in that it brings together disparate friends from all over the area that I rarely see otherwise.  I saw the usual suspects and all, but I ran into Jonee of all people, who I haven’t seen in a couple of years!  The magic of LTB I guess.  And then tomorrow night is that John Cameron Mitchell event.  A screening of Hedwig, some Q&A, and apparently some live singing.  Should be a hoot!

But then what about tonight?  It is Valentine’s Day after all.  Each year, it seems more and more like a big nothing.  Is that happening in general, or is that just me getting older?  I remember perforated cardstock Valentines with this or that cartoon character… making “mailboxes” in class and giving Valentines to all your little classmates.  And I remember buying gifts and going out to nice dinners in my teens.  But every year I get the impression a little more that most people don’t even like this holiday.  That even when you do something romantic for your partner, it’s viewed as expected and cliché… or it could be that I’m just a bitter and jaded old man.

Now, if only I had game like Jesus…

OK, so what am I doing tonight, you ask?  Well, the Reverend Horton Heat is in town, and that’s where I’ll be.  Maybe I’ll see some of you there?  Gossip’s going on later too… if I’m not totally wiped.

Cheers, my dears…

The Trouble With Tribs

26 January 2009

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:  contemplative

I didn’t even think to check it until today, but you all remember that depressing site “Sorry Everybody” where people would post pics of themselves apologizing to the world on behalf of the U.S. for electing Bush?  Twice?  Well now that “change” has come, I think you’ll find the mood of that site a little changed too…

It’s been a quiet week.  I did a little shopping (finally got a cap I’m reasonably happy with… two actually).  Did I mention before that I finally went to this “Rudy’s Can’t Fail Cafe?”  This was Jamie’s idea, a famous place in the East Bay.  The food was good, and the décor was kitschy.  I can see why it’s a big hipster hangout.  Other than that, yeah it’s been quiet.  I tried to dig into my ~3,000 line “to do” list, and I got into some chunks of it that I jotted down while on the road back in like 2003.  It’s funny to see what notes I was making to myself back then.  And also depressing.  All those great ideas and plans that I’ve done nothing with in all this time.  Again, I’m forced to face the likely reality that I will never get through that list.

A combination of factors and experiences this weekend led me into another existential… breakthrough I guess?  More heavy stuff having to do with mortality.  More on that to come once I get my head around it, but I’m on to a new book in the same vein as Staring At The Sun, which I had gotten so much out of a couple months back.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

And in other makes-you-feel-old news, did you hear there’s a completely unnecessary remake of The Karate Kid in the works?

When I got home tonight, the guitar parts I ordered from the U.K. last week were already here!  This was some hard-to-find shit (hence having to get it from the U.K.), and it’ll all be installed on my Rickenbacker in time for next month’s TCB shows.  I want that Ric in tip-top shape for when I take on the Smiths’ debut album at the Blue Lamp and Club Fred.  Speaking of which, I ran across these kind words about TCB’s last Fresno show, and our fans in general.  I also heard from a few other people who saw a certain rival tribute band at Club Fred over the weekend.  Let’s just say that after both bands playing there a few times each, the jury’s in, and all the evidence points to Fresno being a TCB kinda town.  Which is good, because it also happens to be one of my favorite places to play.  It seems like everybody in the place always has such a good time, and I know I do.  Looking forward to another sold out show there in February!

“Never explain — your friends do not need it, and your enemies will not believe you anyway.”
Elbert Hubbard

Baby, it’s cold outside.

18 December 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:  bitchy

Fucking cold, that is.  If you’ll pardon the expression.  Baby.

I know, I know.  We’re spoiled in California, this isn’t really that cold, et cetera, et cetera.  But it’s a matter of what you’re used to, and what I’m used to is mild Bay Area weather.  Having to break out my marf (man-scarf) and glerves (gloves).  Having to use lotion (my hated nemesis) on my dry hands.  No me gusta.  Oh, and it snowed in Las Vegas yesterday.  Worst storm in 30 years they said.  So… yeah.  Of course, all the d-bags are saying “so much for global warming, yuk yuk.”  Never mind the fact that global warming is supposed to cause more extreme temperatures, not necessarily just warmer ones.  But no, no, d-bag, I’m sure you know more than all those scientist and meteorologists.  Yuk yuk.

But how about those gas prices!  $1.75 a gallon?  $28 to fill up?  Excuse me, but aren’t you the same fucks that tried to gouge me at $4 a gallon just a few months ago?  And OPEC is scrambling to stabilize oil prices, and we’re giving them the finger.  It’s a beautiful thing, and a preview of the coming decades when we’re onto renewable energy and OPEC becomes irrelevant.  But I’m sure we’ll see that $4 mark and higher again eventually, so I’ll just enjoy this temporary break while I can.

Did I mention I’m stressed out and pissy lately?  Work is getting really busy, and it may cut into my weekend and even holiday vacation!  I have much to say on this topic, but this is going to be a long enough blog as it is.  I’ll save it for another time, but the thought of work causing me to significantly shift my private life around has me seriously on edge.  It’s been making me noticeably irritable to where I’ve been snapping at people, and getting into arguments with people I never argue with.  I can see myself doing it, and I don’t like the person it’s turning me into.  This has never happened before.  It’s unsettling.

Adding to the stress is the holiday season.  All my family’s going to be away, and so I think this will actually be my first Christmas alone, ever.  I’ll see them a few days later, but just the societal pressure of this being a family holiday.  I’m anticipating a depressing few days next week.  When I met them for dinner the other night, my folks gave me one of those fold-out plastic Christmas trees to help brighten my place.  I don’t know if that’s going to make me feel better or worse to have that in the house, but at least I can’t kill it.  (Last year, Jamie got me a little tree… a live one, though not for long.)  Surely there must be some kind of social events going on in the city for Christmas?

(For at least the next couple weeks, you can see the full animated dance that Wally made us here.  Don’t know for sure how long it will be up though!)

It’s been a busy few weeks.  There’s been bad news, such as the passing of Bettie Page, icon-of-icons to half the girls I know.  Then there was more uplifting news such as the deer that mauled a hunter.  The hunter described it as “15 seconds of hell.”  I would describe it as a 15 second preview.  New Wave City and Club Gossip were nice as usual.  Got some shopping done in the Haight.  I managed to sit through the entire Dark Knight.  I had a nice dinner in the West Portal and saw Milk, which was as good as they say.

But  certainly one of the recent highlights came last night.  I had the great pleasure of seeing Bruce Campbell’s new movie, “My Name Is Bruce,” at The Bridge Theatre here in SF.  Now, the movie itself was totally bizarre.  But the real draw was that Bruce himself was there to introduce the film and be interviewed by San Francisco’s own Peaches Christ!  It turns out, he’s absolutely hilarious in real life.  It was great to hear him talk.  He told some stories about how crazy his friend Sam Raimi is, and how Sam’s Oldsmobile Delta 88 has appeared in every one of his movies including the western “The Quick And The Dead” (stripped down to its chassis and covered with a fake wagon).  Bruce also happens to be bent on destroying it, but that’s another story.

But there was an aspect I hadn’t considered.  It didn’t occur to me until it was too late that of course a Bruce Campbell event would attract super-nerds.  Like SUPER-nerds.  A theater full of them,  It reminded me of the crowd at Tenacious D a few years back.  Which is horrifying because then you wonder, “am I one of these people?”  That would have been bad enough, but then the questions they asked him during Q&A were just… so embarrassing.  Did you ever see that SNL sketch where William Shatner is at a Star Trek convention and the fans are asking him these obscure questions?  It was exactly like that.

He was asked questions like, “you remember in Evil Dead 2 when you’re running away and then you go into the bathroom and there’s a secret passageway in the bathroom?  Why was there a secret passageway there?”  So many questions like this.  There was such a fundamental lack of understanding from the crowd that Bruce Campbell is an actor with a real life and cannot possibly know or care about the details of the this stuff the way that you super fans do.  You guys watch these movies over and over and debate them.  He acted in it 25 years ago and has probably not watched it since.  And even then, that’s a question for the writer!  I’m telling you, it was that SNL sketch come to life.  The most cringe-worthy moment had to be when someone in the crowd tried to pitch a script to him!  The funniest thing though was that after this absurd Q&A, the movie starts… Bruce plays himself in the movie, and there’s a part where he’s mobbed by super fans asking him almost the same questions the SF crowd just did.  Priceless.

He seemed to take it in stride, and he had snarky responses for all the ridiculous questions he was being asked.  Jamie pointed out that he must be used to it and works with it, which I think is probably true.  I didn’t bother asking him anything because, while I love his work, what do I really have to talk to him about?  Just the same, I bet he’d love to be asked a normal, adult question once in a while.  It’s a wonder sci-fi and horror b-list celebs like him don’t go nuts from that kind of bizarre attention from cult fanbases.  Although in fairness, I can imagine that’s how it would be if I ever met Johnny Marr.  “Johnny, you remember the bootleg third alternate take of ‘This Charming Man,’ on that second verse were you playing an open D-flat or a fretted D-flat on the Telecaster track?”

The quote of the week comes from an anonymous guy in the crowd last night:

Girl In Crowd: (to Bruce, flirtatiously) Are you into polyamory?
Bruce: What’s poly… polyam… polyamory?
Peaches: It’s for perverts.
Bruce: Wait, if I say “yes,” what am I saying “yes” to exactly?
Guy In Crowd: CRABS!

Aponia

7 November 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:  enlightened

Well kids, after two years of campaign-related news dominating the airwaves, it’s going to be weird to not have it.  Two years!  I can remember Saturday mornings driving down 19th Ave. and all the candidates being the subject of so much of NPR’s “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me.”  Every Saturday morning.  For two years!  And soon there’ll be no Bush.  I guess we’ll have to find something else to talk about?  This week seemed to fly by, and I’m glad it’s already the weekend again.

I have to mention that I did start that book on death that I mentioned last week.  It’s called Staring At The Sun, and it knocked me on my ass.  I read it almost cover-to-cover in two days.  And I am going to read it all again very shortly, because there is so much to absorb.  It’s amazing how much of it struck chords in me.  It’s clear how much the fundamental and innate fear of our own mortality works its way into so many facets of our lives.  And so much of what has been going on with me the last few months can be tied back to it.  Like I said, it knocked me on my ass, and set the tone for my whole week.  It has given me a ton to think about.  Suffice it to say that I highly recommend it.  It’s valuable for everyone, not just those facing their own mortality or the passing of a loved one.

Halloween was quiet.  And I had a rainy, white-knuckle drive to and from Palo Alto in a heavy downpour.  Had a nice time at New Wave City and saw some friends.  But once I picked up that book, as I said, it set the tone for my whole week and weekend.  On Sunday afternoon, I went for a walk around the lake.  With a lot of new perspectives on my mind, I took extra time to explore the wooded areas I usually just pass by.  I came across some unexpected wildlife (which I later looked up and identified).  I saw a trio of the very odd ring-necked pheasant, which I at first mistook for a wild turkey.  I later came across a banana slug in my path.  And the highlight was seeing the strangest caterpillar I’ve ever seen up close.  He was trying to make his way across the street, which I couldn’t let him do.  After a few minutes of wrangling, I got him safe back into the bushes.  This is significant for reasons I will explain in some future blog.  But anyway, my point is that it’s astonishing what’s out there when you slow down and just take the time to look.  I’ve a lot of lessons left to learn.

On a lighter note, last weekend Super Troopers was on yet again.  I think I should just admit to myself that this has become one of my favorite comedies.   I’ve only ever seen it on television, but I seriously never get tired of it.  I’ve watched it back-to-back and still laughed out loud at parts.  In fact, I’m pretty sure I love it.

Ah well, while we’re on the subject of “things that are played ad nauseam on Comedy Central,” the quote of the week comes from Destructor in Futurama: The Beast with a Billion Backs.  I guess you had to be there.

“MY LEG FEELS FUNNY.”

Panic on the streets of SoMa!

10 August 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:  lazy

How I Spent My Friday Night: Panic On The Streets Of SoMa!

  • Well, I went and saw this
  • … during which I apparently had my first one of these.

The high point of my night?  Seeing an 18-wheeler flip over (longways) on the big screen.  Nice.  The low point?  Probably explaining to the Metreon’s security staff that, while I think I might be having a heart attack and am convinced I could drop dead any moment, let’s not call 911 yet.

From what I’ve been reading since then, apparently that’s pretty much the experience people have during their first panic attack.  I’ve known people very close to me who’ve experienced this, but at the time I didn’t understand.  Let me say once and for all that I’m sorry if I was ever unsympathetic.

Teddy Bear Picnic II
Almost as quickly as it came, it also went.  By the next morning I felt normal again.  Saturday afternoon was my second family reunion in three weekends.  With the other side of the family.  For whatever reason, this one was much more enjoyable.  We still all played guitar and sang.  The food was better and largely vegetarian.  Later, back at the cabin I got in some quality time bonding with one niece and “swordfighting” with the other… a time-honored tradition out there where suitable sticks are plentiful.  When I had first pulled up, there was a family of four deer eating in front of the cabin.  After I parked, I was able to get withing probably 20 feet of them.  They watched me carefully but didn’t bolt.

A few hours later, we heard some cracking noises outside and some rustling in the trees.  We ended up getting to watch a tree naturally fall over in the woods.  For the record, yes it does make a sound.  During this, mom and I had to try to keep some of our drunken relatives from getting too close.  So sure they were that it would not and could not fall in their direction.  I sensed a Darwin award looming.  Though I will admit to being tempted to call out, “hey, go pose for a picture with it!”  I bet my uncle would have done it.

In the end, I just wasn’t in the mood to stay the night and participate in the second day of festivities, this time at the beach.  I drove my grama home on the way out of town and we talked about Ben II.  One of the most interesting things to me about family is how they keep you in touch with the way you used to be, and with the way you’ve always been, and with the way the family has always been.  They know the real you who’s under all the layers of bullshit that you’ve surrounded youself with over the years.  There’s a simplicity in sitting back and seeing yourself reflected in all the people who collectively raised you.  Watching my mom and her brother sing and play guitar together last night, you can see them exactly as they were 50 years ago, the baby sister just wanting to be a part, and the protective big brother showing her a few chords.  Family.

And finally, for no reason at all…

K.I.T. Have a cool summer!

16 June 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:  sore

Fuckin’ balls.  Well it looks like the summer solstice is coming up this week.  It seems like the days were just getting longer, and already they’re going to start getting shorter again.  Oh well, the summer’s not nearly over.  There’s still plenty of time for Ocean Beach bonfires and Great America.  Assuming we can get our asses in gear and actually follow through on plans.

The last week’s been pretty uneventful (and yet I’m going to bore you with it anyway!).  I had a nice dinner with Jen in North Beach, and made it over to Cafe Divine to catch Craig Ventresco again.  I’m telling you, that guy is amazing, and the food and wine at this place is great too.  I highly recommend stopping in there sometime.  I caught the very creepy new release “The Happening” with Jamie the other night. Not quite what I expected, and left me with some disturbing images to carry around with me for a while.  I did manage to get up in time for a 9am breakfast on the beach with one of my favorite old co-workers on Saturday morning.  In the consulting world, I dealt with an ever-changing cast, so it’s always nice to see a familiar face from the past, particularly since I keep in touch with so few of them.  And he’s such a hoot… you may remember him as my partner in crime when I was stuck in Denver a couple years back.  Good times.

This is a guy does not own a car, but just bought a full 9-foot Steinway D Concert Grand piano.  That’s roughly a $140,000 instrument.  How can you not admire the balls that takes?  And to my (limited) knowledge, this is not a frivolous purchase he could make without flinching.  I hope that if and when I am ever in a position to make an investment of that magnitude, I can summon that kind of creativity and chutzpah.

Last night, I randomly came across this cat site, which in itself is not all that funny, but it led me both to the phenomenon called “LOLCats” as well as to this image.  Which will mean nothing to some of you, but will strike a chord with males roughly my age.  Magnificent!

Speaking of random sites, you know I still get email to my old site.  With a very few exceptions, I haven’t updated it for years.  But once in a while, I’ll go through it just for old time’s sake and God damn, I forgot how clever I used to be.  There’s some funny stuff out there, and apparently I used to be halfway decent at Flash and Photoshop.  I’m afraid those days are gone.  But it’s nice to look back on what I was capable of once upon a time.  Before I got old.

And speaking of old, we are less than two weeks away from my first annual 29th birthday.  Egads!

Last week, another Smiths tribute called “Los Esmiths” was in town from Calexico.  They opened up for Japanese Baby here in SF, and I went to check them out, along with Sus, Shel, and Deanna.  Ran into a few other locals including Bunnyman and Cary.  Los Esmiths did a good job, and it was interesting to see their take on some of that stuff.  Nice guys, too.  Singer probably has the best Moz hair of any tribute operating today.

The quote of the week comes from Dylan Bunnyman that very night, with this unsolicited and to-the-point comment on the between-bands DJ.  One of my favorite criticisms, maybe ever:

“Whoever’s picking these songs must really hate music.”

Holy shit, I am getting old.

28 May 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:  exhausted

I tell you, it’s never been more apparent to me than when I looked at my desk at work today.  In my younger years, I would almost never get sick.  I almost never took any kind of medicine.  I had no aches and pains.  I was full of energy.  Over the last year or so, I’ve watched my “medicine cabinet” in the corner of my work desk grow steadily… first tissues… hand lotion… Purell.  Then Ricola… Advil… fucking Tums!  Today I added table salt.  That’s not even the whole list.  When I was a teenager, I used to wonder what it would be like to be in my 30’s and have my body start to deteriorate.  How would it happen?  Do you just wake up one day to find that you not as quick as you used to be?  I couldn’t imagine it.  Well I’m finding out the answer… it creeps up on you.  Day by day, you find you don’t bounce back as fast.  Your joints start to crackle and pop.  Sleep is the most appealing thing to you after a long day’s work.  Soon, you’re carrying Tums around in your pocket.  Holy hell.

To help combat this, I’ve gotten into a semi-regular regimen of running/walking around the lake.  It’s been nice to zone out for an hour or so, get some fresh air, and let the day’s stresses attenuate for a bit.  Reset myself, if you will.  It’s all very Zen.  And probably healthy too, right?

This blessedly short work week was preceeded by a very busy weekend.  Louder Than Bombs was fun on Moz’s birthday last week.  Orlie and I fought our way through a couple of acoustic numbers along side some other interesting interpretations of Smiths/Moz songs by local artists.  (That night my car was dinged while parked.  After “escaping” the Mission a few years ago — partially to save my car from the dangers of being parked on the street — I find it ironic that the first night I’ve had a reason to park in the Mission in I don’t even know how long… BAM!  Oh well.  That’s what insurance is for…)  I had lunch with Kaminski and her husband, who as you may recall,  moved to Oregon a few years back.  At the time, I thought we’d all still see a lot of each other.  As it turned out, this was the first time I’d seen her since she moved!  I also had a great BBQ with some close friends, drank myself almost sick, ended up at Nightbeat again (the Duchess Colin was in town!), had brunch with Shel in the Haight, saw Indiana Jones (the kid’s a greaser!), and probably some other stuff I’m forgetting.  But yeah, busy busy.

Certainly the most bizarre event of the weekend was seeing Cluster at The Great American Music Hall.  Jamie’s bro helped book it, so we had the hook up, as they say.  I guess these guys are a big deal to the history of electronic music.  And I’m sure at one time, their ambient soundscape Casio-noodling was very provocative.  In the here and now, however, it was a single hour-long “song” that was hard to get into.  Which is to say it was not really my thing.  The opening acts were of a similar style, but it was all interesting to see, and I’m very glad I went.  Big thanks to Jamie and her brother for having me along!

All this experimental music reminds me to include this (Laurie Anderson’s “O Superman,” which was brought to my attention by Nick… erm, extremely weird):

There are a lot of good shows coming up… that I actually already have tickets for no less!  R.E.M. and Modest Mouse this weekend, The Black Angels next weekend, Billy Idol in the near future, and The Legendary Shack Shakers in the not-too-distant future.  What I want to see though is a Deadbolt show.  Hope they play NorCal again before too long… else I might have to make a special SoCal trip for them.  Oh, and if you like the Smiths, you might consider this Friday’s TCB show in Santa Cruz:

And finally, when did New York become the cool place to go all of the sudden?  Two different coworkers just got back from separate NYC vacations, Monica also just got back from one, and Jamie just left for one.  I gotta be honest, it’s never really interested me that much.  Maybe your stories and slideshows will sway me.  Any good lakes to jog ’round?

“Now you on the run, son.”

… in which I wait in line for the bathroom with Rose McGowan.

28 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:  full

Well, I did!

You see, Colin and I went out to Edinburgh on Saturday night.  I was there being initiated into a scene that I knew next to nothing about, but that was “home” to him.  I guess tied in with skinhead, suedehead, ska, mod, and rocksteady… there is “Northern Soul.”  What this amounts to is a bunch of great Motown recordings that you’ve never heard.  I’d wager that I listen to more Motown at least than your average Joe, and yet I recognized only one song the whole night.  It all sounds familiar — and wonderful — but you just can’t place it.

Colin explains that the talcum powder they put down on the dance floor is a Northern tradition.  He fills me in on the seedy underbelly of the scene.  The big players, the pretensions and their origins, the legendary $1200 45rpms, the dress code.  And the dances, which I do my best to emulate.  This club night (“Nightbeat“) was amazing, and I will definitely be going back.  I only wish Duchess was going to be around longer to show me the ropes more.  It never ceases to amaze me the things people congregate to do.  This kind of music is something that I figured the relatively few people who even know and like it must just listen to in private.  The idea that dozens of folks from all over the city get together monthly to celebrate this stuff and dance to it… well, I just love it.

OK, so the juicy part.  Afterwards, we go to Sparky’s.  It’s about 2:30am, and Colin notices some folks in the back crowding around someone and posing for pictures.  And who is it?  Rose McGowan, natch.

We wanted to be sure, and I had to wash up anyway.  So I head toward the bathroom thinking that I’ll pass her table and be able to confirm.  Well I didn’t see her.  So I continue to the back, and I end up face to face with her standing in line for the bathroom.

Let me digress for a moment.  I have this thing with celebrities where I usually go out of my way to show that I either a) don’t care who they are or b) don’t recognize them in the first place.  This might be because I am a hater.  My thought is that if they’re a stuck-up celeb, they could probably stand to be knocked down a peg.  And if they’re a normal, nice person… well then they probably deserve to be left alone.  I mean, they must get so tired of people wanting autographs and pictures, and always saying “oh, I love your work.”  I could be wrong, but I figure that they appreciate and respect you more for not fawning all over them.  And honestly, who needs a picture?  They’re just normal people like you or I who happen to have gotten famous.  God, I am a hater, aren’t I?  Well in fairness if it were Johnny Marr or Moz, I’d have fallen at their feet so you know…

OK, so with that in mind, I went out of my way not to acknowledge her more than I would any other pretty girl in line for the bathroom.  I did smile at her, and she did take the time to regard my Link Wray shirt which was kinda b-horror looking and likely would have interested her based on what little I know about her.  But that was the extent of it.  What do you say to someone like her that doesn’t sound sycophantic?  Meh.

In terms of pure celebrity adolescent physical attraction, I’d have put her as my number two (behind Christina Ricci).  But I have to say that as pretty as she was in person — and she was — she was honestly no more a knockout than some of the girls I know and others that I see on the street around the city all the time.  This is not taking anything away from her, but what I’m getting at is that with the right makeup, hairstylist, photographer, and lighting, there are thousands of women that could stand up to her and are every bit as beautiful.  So take heart!  There’s no reason to get hung up on a baseless idea of celebrity “perfection.”

Unless of course you’re Christina Ricci, Johnny Marr, or Moz, in which case you are infallible perfection incarnate, and I want to hump you.

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