Hey Sugar, take a walk on the wild side…

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Current Mood:  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 seeing 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

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