I admit, I was not expecting that.

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Current Mood:  selective

So I went to this place called Bender’s on Friday night.  I’d never been, but it turns out to be this punk / bike messenger bar, similar to Zeitgeist, but without the Mission hipsters.  The kind of place where (I assume) real punks hang out.  I’m only going by the ripped clothes and the B.O. here, but that’s my guess.  Anyway, my main reason for going was that I had wanted to check out this guy Jesse Morris who was going to be playing.  I’ve seen him busking a few times at the Montgomery BART station, and the guy sounds more like Johnny Cash than any tribute band I’ve heard, and that’s a fact.  I admit that, not being much into punk, I was aesthetically skeptical.  But I wanted to hear his original stuff, and I wanted to hear the full band, “Jesse Morris and the Man Cougars.”  I have to say, I had a hell of a time.  The guy and his music were awesome… charismatic, energetic, funny.  There’s something unsettling about hearing what could be Johnny Cash’s ghost singing dirty songs in old country style, all while inciting a mosh pit.  But needless to say, I was impressed and will definitely try to catch them again.

The headliner that night was an added bonus… a band I’d been meaning to see for years: Cookie Mongoloid.  One of those SF Bay Area phenomena that you owe it to yourself to experience once, I guess.  This is a speed metal Sesame Street cover band.  The band looks like your standard metal group, including a lead guitar player in vest (no shirt) that would be right at home in Dethklok.  The singer comes out in a leather jacket and a full mascot-style Cookie Monster mask.  He sang in the Cookie Monster voice, and even talked in that voice between songs… you know, “me like cookies” and all that.  Not surprisingly, every song was about cookies, including classics like “C Is For Cookie” and some originals(?) like “I Lost Me Cookie In The Mosh Pit.”  He had a homemade double-barrelled pneumatic cookie gun that launched cookies into the crowd and against the ceiling.  They had about a dozen “Cookie Girls” up on stage with them, which was something like Rock Of Love contestants with a furry blue letter “C” on their chests.  During the first couple songs, they came out with buckets full of crushed cookies and relentlessly pelted the crowd with handfuls of crumbs.  Even in the back where I was, I was hit all over and ended up covered in cookie crumbs by the time I got out of there.  In short, I’d hate to be on clean-up duty that night.  Fucking bizarre, but worth seeing once for sure.  Before I move on, best cupcake idea ever:

The rest of the weekend was busy too.  I finally got a new couch, which involved a lot of hassle, twine, and bargaining with my demon-possessed elevator to get it from Palo Alto to my living room.  In addition to getting a ton of help from Dad, I got to eat with the folks and my niece before and after the ordeal.  In the end, I got a cheap (discontinued?) IKEA couch, which also happened to be the most comfortable of all the ones I tried.  It only came in this dark chocolate brown, but I dressed it up with a couple of black and white Victorian floral throw pillows and… well, I’ll stop there.  It looks classy though.  I’m pleased.  And I should mention too that at IKEA, I ran into an old East Bay friend (Kelli) that I hadn’t seen in something like seven years.  Sus is in the Midwest molesting Morrissey.  Shel is back from Hawaii.  I’m sitting right here wasting my life away documenting the sort of details of my life that no one could possibly care about.

Horror of horrors, Boudin has discontinued its butternut squash soup, which has been my only reason for getting out of bed on Wednesdays.  I’m hoping it’s a seasonal thing.  And then I heard that Snapple’s blueberry tea is off the market too.  Seriously folks, what the fuck?  This is not the first time I’ve mentioned this kind of shit.  I’m not that fussy about food, but it seems like the things I particularly like are always disappearing.  Do I just notice it more than most, or am I actually cursed?  On the topic of nostalgia, I could surf Branded In The 80s for hours, if I had hours.  So many stickers and useless garbage I remember from my youth.

OK, before I call it a night, I wanted to mention quickly that I’ve made some progress towards simplifying my life.  I sold a guitar!  Sort of.  I actually talked Dad into just having one.  But same thing.  It feels good to be rid of it.  I did update my MySpace layout in its honor.  Strange, you know selling these guitars would have been unthinkable just weeks ago.  But I’m trying to reject that collector impulse.  I see guys with bigger collections and I feel some envy.  And I don’t like that.  You can’t buy self worth, your possessions don’t define you.  I’ve got some guitars that would be hard or even impossible to replace if I ever changed my mind.  And in that context, it really is hard to let them go.  But they’re just things.  And the things we want in life change over time, right?  It’s hard to imagine me pining for “the one that got away” for the rest of my life.  Oh, if only I hadn’t sold such-and-such a guitar.  I don’t see me doing that.  *sigh*  This is what I mean about it feeling like a burden.  The things you own end up owning you.  Material things are supposed to help facilitate happy times in life, not become the focus of them.  I should be spending more time practicing and learning, and less time dealing with the finding/buying/selling of guitars.  It’s ridiculous, and it completely misses the point.  The loosely-related quote of the week comes from… oh, well you know:

“Genius lasts longer than beauty.”

— Oscar Wilde

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