My ever-growing “to do” list is my neurotic burden to bear. As I work through ways of letting it go and learning to live more in the moment, I am struck by some patterns I see. Someday I may really cut the cord and delete my list altogether, but unless and until that happens, I’m looking for new ways to shorten the list… or at least combat it somehow… as it grows by like 10 lines a day. So anyway, one of these patterns is that several items on this 3,500-line list are snippets of ideas that I know now I will never, ever get around to doing. My options are to do something with them (which as I just said, I will probably never find time to), delete them and forget them (not a tragedy in most cases, but there would be the occasional lost bit of genius), or share them with the world (and thus let me delete them off my list). So I’m starting a new category here of “Ideas I’ll Never Get Around To.” Not because you will always find them interesting to read about, but because I think it will allow me to let them go and move on with my life. Some will be big ideas, some tiny. Some genius, some not so much. So without further ado…
Who among us isn’t familiar with The Who’s “Tommy?” And I know you’ve all seen “Moulin Rouge.” A couple years ago, I myself watched “Across The Universe,” and though at the time I hadn’t yet immersed myself in The Beatles, I was moved by the overall presentation and the way those songs were woven together into a relatively coherent plot.
What I’m getting at is that I think the Smiths/Morrissey catalog is ripe for a similar musical film or rock opera. I realize that compared to The Beatles, our beloved Smiths have a tiny — if devoted — following. But I’m confident the mainstream could learn to love the music too if they were exposed to it in the right way. The Smiths had what, 72 songs in their short five-year career? And Morrissey’s been solo for over 20 years now, amassing another must be around 200 songs, right? Now, I imagine most of you reading this are devout Smiths fans like I am. And I’m sure if you’re on my wavelength right now, you can imagine vigintillions of possibilities. So many songs about longing. So many British and Italian landmarks referenced. Every song is a story in itself, but also broad enough to be applied to nearly anyone. I think this music lends itself extremely well to be meshed into a film. Of plot, I’ve given almost no consideration. And I lost my personal interest in screenwriting long ago. I’ve envisioned much more the production and the presentation than the substance. But someday, I hope someone with the interest and the talent will do a project like this. At the very least, there would be a small army of Smiths cultists rallying for it. And if it were ever performed live, I can think of a few musicians who might volunteer their services.
“Well they’re all playing lead aren’t they, all of them. John Entwistle’s playing lead bass, Keith’s playing lead drums, Townshend’s playing lead guitar, and Roger’s fuckin’ the lead vocalist. It’s insane.”
For continuity’s sake, I figured I should start by linking us to the past. I’ve never kept a diary or a journal. Not really. I guess I never saw the point, or maybe I just wasn’t the type that found any solace in confiding in an inanimate object. Either I keep it to myself, or I confide in someone else… for their reaction… validation… absolution… whatever.
Somewhere along the line, the emotional exhibitionist in me was lured into sharing whatever was going on in the form of a blog on MySpace. But as I mentioned before, “DrySpace” traffic has started to dwindle lately, and now that this blog lives on another site completely, I may get virtually no readers at all. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that. But oh well. In truth I guess it was mainly a diary anyway, albeit public. “Dear Diary, I wore my new party dress tonight, and nobody even noticed!”
Which reminds me, I need to come up with something clever to call this thing. I’m tempted to use “Dear Diary.” Or maybe something with those hater Muppet Show critics, since I seem to bitch a lot. I dunno, something will come to me. In the meantime, it remains simply “Soapboxing,” in deference to the original name of my old MySpace blog. And shit, the whole point of this entry (which has gotten away from me) was to provide the link back to that in case you want to retrace history back to 2004. Because unless and until I find the time to copy/paste all those old MySpace blog entries over here — and I don’t see that happening — that old link will be the only way to see those past few years of musings, and all the wonderful comments you left there. So, yeah, here it is:
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: accomplished
Well it was a lovely Xmas / New Year’s vacation, kiddies. So much to tell.
You know, that last week of work before Xmas, I went bowling with some coworkers. First time I’d picked up a bowling ball in 2+ years, and the very first time it left my hand, I scored a strike. Ended the game with a strike too, and at one point bowled three in a row. Finished with a 168, far and away the best score of my life. (Do bowling skills just naturally grow with age despite zero practice?) Anyway, maybe I should have taken that as a sign of good things to come…
Home For The Holidays
After being stuck at home for Xmas last year, while the rest of my family was at Disneyland, it was nice to get to spend it with them this time around. I got to see my sister’s new place and hang out with her rugrats. Spent a couple days with my mar and par. Was somewhat dismayed that the best reaction I got from any of the gifts I gave was from my grandma when she opened her 2-liter of Bombay Sapphire. As always, it was nice to “unplug” from my usual daily stresses and just mellow out in that alternate universe that is my family life.
Hollywood Swingin’
Staring down a whole week off, I started to think that maybe I should, you know, do something. I decided on a spontaneous trip down to SoCal the day after Xmas, being the first time I’d taken my current car there, not to mention the furthest I’ve driven in a couple of years now. A good challenge, and an excellent chance to catch up with the friends that I only ever get to see when TCB plays down there, and briefly at that. I stayed on Sunset at the same place TCB used to. Fabi and Megan were kind enough to take me around to a couple of excellent honky tonks, as well as an unbelievably delicious meal at P.F. Chang’s of all places (kung pao with five-spice tofu instead of chicken… good gawd!). Oh, and they taught me the proper way to pronounce the local baseball team’s name: “Los Doyers.” I met up with Jessica and her man at The Cat & Fiddle (no Moz sightings), and then Amoeba (saw Forest Whitaker there). Sadly, I missed Colin altogether. 🙁 And there were others too that on short notice I just couldn’t hook up with. Next time though!
On the way out of town, I hit up Sunset’s Guitar Center and Sam Ash, places that historically have been rushed stops during TCB show trips. Here I got to take my time and explore. Saw the array of Gretsches that dwarfs Bay Area guitar stores, as well as a ton of vintage gear… LED Rics, 12-string 335s and Coronados, Vox 2×15 AC30s, and on and on. Candyland, basically. Anywho, I was surprised to find the drives there and back were both easier even than I remember. And I’m so glad to be a comfortable with that again, because I’d like to make little weekend SoCal trips a regular occurrence like they used to be. Too many friends down there to let so much time go by between visits, you know.
New Year’s Eve In Seattle
I popped out for a quick 24 hours in Seattle to spend New Year’s Eve playing the Showbox (SoDo) in Seattle. We were staying in a dodgy area near the airport, with strange people milling around outside for no apparent reason… reminded me a bit of the hotel from that first Fresno show a few years back. But I quickly forgot about all that in dealing with the constant waxing and waning rain all day and night. Made driving a bit of a hassle, but for once I got tremendous use out of the rental car’s GPS, and I have a new found respect for them. If I drove my own car in unknown areas more often, I might even pick one up for myself. Pretty neat.
The show was more fun than I expected, with a highly entertaining bill that included Dead Souls, Love Vigilantes, and Fascination Street. All the bands’ members seemed to be in good spirits, and we all got along great. I joined Love Vigilantes as the fake Johnny Marr in a successful rendition of Electronic’s “Getting Away With It” (which I had picked out last minute in my Hollywood hotel room earlier in the week). Some of us went to eat afterwards and found a former Denny’s. You ever seen “Coming To America?” Well this was the McDowell’s of Denny’s. Nick and Orlie can attest. It was hilarious. Instead of “Moons Over My Hammy,” they had “The Rising Sun Sandwich.” But the menu was identical in terms of content. The building, the fixtures, everything. Denny’s, but not.
One note about logistics. I got it from all sides at the airports this time around. On my way home, I was almost arrested for wearing a belt buckle that looked like brass knuckles. They were not in any way functional, but apparently they were enough to earn me a stern talking-to along the lines of “do you know how stupid it was to try to bring this on an airplane?” I am not a thirty year old man; apparently I am a 15 year old Beavis. Oh well, just doing their job I guess. My guitar was swabbed by TSA for bomb residue, and they almost wouldn’t let me bring on my pedalboard until a musician working there vouched for what it was. And aside from all this, I have never received so many disapproving looks from old folks in the airport, brazenly inspecting the stickers on my pedalboard (none of which are very offensive, save the “I <3 Hunting Accidents” one). Apparently images of Mozzer and Marc Bolan offend them. But they looked at me like I was a gutter punk moonstomping through their garden party. All hilarious to me, because I’m probably a more stand up guy than their own sons and grandsons, but whatevs. It’s the way of the world. I’m sure in their day, old folks used to fuss at them when their dresses showed ankle. Someday, I will be fussing at young’uns for whatever they’re up to. Hell, I probably already do.
It was an interesting way to ring in the new year. And a major change from last year. See last year, I didn’t want to leave the house. Too anxious. This year I flew to Seattle in the rain for one day to play a show in front of hundreds of people. What a difference a year makes, huh? 🙂
I don’t usually take a lot of long vacations. Most of my days off are used to make three-day weekends for TCB trips and such. I gotta say that this last week off is one of the few vacations I can remember that feels like it was really well spent. In a single week I made it to see the family for Xmas, drove all the way to SoCal and back, flew to Seattle and back, visited with countless friends, and learned and played a lot of music. Even made it out to New Wave City and Leisure this weekend. Oh, and I saw The Road yesterday, too. (Super creepy and also amazing. Check it out. Do it. Do it.) But yeah, I’m feeling like I really made the most of this time off. If only every week could be so action packed.
OK, so hopefully I’ll get to my “new year” blog next time. It’s been so busy, I haven’t even had the time to sit down and reflect yet, much less make plans and resolutions for 2010. But I’d say it was a pretty good trade. Nice to be spending my life lately actually living it rather than just busy planning it.
“It ain’t what they call you, it’s what you answer to.”
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: sick
I’d been feeling… I’ll say “weird” since the middle of the week. Flushed, but with no detectable fever. I made it through work most of the week, but then Thursday night it started to worsen, and by Friday morning, I was in no shape to go into the office. I had to stay home. Frankly, I didn’t feel up to doing much of anything this weekend, and that included leaving the house. I’m feeling a bit better today, so I’m optimistic that I’ll be able to get back to work tomorrow. I got the flu shot this year, which as I recall can help prevent or lessen the impact of the flu. I don’t know what a “mild” flu feels like, since whenever I’ve had a flu in the past, it kicked my ass unequivocally. But this weekend I had a headache, a stiff neck, moderate fatigue, and a mild fever… with virtually no congestion, sore throat, or cough. That certainly sounds like a mild version of flu symptoms more than it does a cold, right? So maybe I did have a mild flu. A mild swine flu even. A piglet flu.
But as I said, I was in no shape to lift a finger. That’s one of the shitty things about being home sick. You’ve got all that free time to do stuff around the house you’ve been meaning to do, but no energy to actually do any of it. I haven’t even shaved in days, and I think I have the closest thing I’ve ever had to a beard right now. So anyway, I ate oatmeal and watched movies. Whatever happened to be on, really. This included The Fog (1980), Dead-Alive, all three Pirates Of The Caribbean movies, that Brothers Grimm one, The Pathfinder, and parts of both Troy and Mr. And Mrs. Smith. Others too that I think I’m forgetting. I also dusted off and reconnected my old Playstation for about a half hour. When I finally had the energy to do more than sit, I worked on learning a couple new songs. And here I am with the energy to type again — lucky you!
Moving on… a general comment to Hollywood: please stop pissing all over my childhood. I understand there is a Clash Of The Titans remake in the works. Never mind the Karate Kid mess of the fact that a golden G.I. Joe opportunity was wasted. I’ve even heard stirrings of a Rocky Horror remake. I’m sure there are countless others in the works too that I don’t even know about. Trying to be more level-headed about it, to be fair, the Clash remake looks like it might not be terrible. I’ll try to approach it with an open mind. (Assuming they do something about that soundtrack.)
As of 2023, the video I had embedded here is apparently gone. It was a trailer for Clash Of The Titans (2010), and it must have had some bad music in it judging by my comment above. Whatever year it is as you’re reading this, I’m sure a Google search will find it for you. Google is still a thing in your time, isn’t it?
Speaking of me being old and crotchety, surely you’ve heard the kids these days say “redonkulous” as an extreme version of “ridiculous.” Well I heard the word “milkdonkulous” on TV last week. And while I know this means that “redonkulous” has jumped the proverbial shark, and the last thing I want to do is be duped by somebody’s lame marketing campaign (least of all the dairy industry), I’d be lying if I said I didn’t secretly love this word “milkdonkulous.” I can’t say why, but it just speaks to me. I’ll do my best to use it judiciously.
I think it’s time that I just face the fact that I’m completely fascinated by the English language. I don’t think that’s a new thing for me exactly, but it’s only been a couple years that I could put a name to it. I realize that I keep ongoing lists of words, phrases, idioms, and quotations that I like. I find myself admiring (and even envying) writers whenever they’re able to perfectly capture and convey an idea so clearly. I’m constantly looking up new words, linguistic concepts (like the retronym) and even the typographical symbols that we so rarely see anymore (like the tombstone or the preposterous asterism). I’m even interested in syntax and grammar. Somewhere along the line, this all became a small hobby of mine, and though it’s exceedingly nerdy, I’d argue it’s not much different (though way more useful) than crossword puzzles and sudoku. I don’t really enjoy those types of puzzles, but I love researching language. Alright? So sign me up for ΛΛΛ.
That’s had me thinking recently… did I choose the wrong path? That whole “do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life” thing, you know. I guess knowing what I know now, if I had it to do over again, I would have probably majored in English and music. Assuming I had the balls not to go the safe route. Don’t get me wrong, I loved CogSci in school, and I feel it was all very valuable. But looking at what “work” I truly enjoy these days? It’s language and music. But then, it’s my nature to build the safety net first. Have a backup plan. That’s why I had the band after I finished school and had a steady job. I skipped the whole garage band thing, for better or worse. I made sure I could support my hobbies, rather than rely on my hobbies to support me. The safe route has its pros and cons I guess. And then who knows where I’d be now? Maybe not nearly as happy. What about you? Knowing what you know now, would you have done things a little differently?
Coming up this Thursday is This Charming Band’sfifth Thanksgiving Popscene appearance on their Smiths tributary “Meat Is Murder” night, and it also loosely marks our fourth anniversary as a band. My, how the years fly by (especially evident at Popscene where the crowd stays young and beautiful, but the band gets older every year). Hope to see you there friends! And while you’re pondering what to eat on Thanksgiving before the show, and what the future might hold for us all… consider this article.
“It is better to have a permanent income than to be fascinating.”
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
Today happens to be Taylor’s birthday. This is dedicated to the memory of her snail, Huey.
When I was a kid, maybe five years old, I was living in a condo complex in the South Bay. My dad used to play tennis a lot, and when one of his buddies would come over to play, I’d usually follow them on my Big Wheel and hang out in the surrounding park. This particular afternoon, I found a big green caterpillar that I was playing with, and when it was time to head home, I guess I thought I’d keep him. I set him on the Big Wheel equivalent of a dashboard and set off down the hill towards the house. Well, I didn’t get very far before he of course was rumbled right off of the dashboard… and right onto my front wheel. I had squashed him. I don’t remember how upset I was, but the actual event is one of my most vivid memories from childhood. I remember feeling responsible.
Almost 20 years later, I’m walking around the Cal campus on a break between classes. There’s the main thoroughfare that gets a ton of foot and bike traffic all day, and I’m walking along headed who knows where. For whatever reason, I’m looking down and I see a green caterpillar inching his way across the walkway. I avoid stepping on him, but I don’t stop. I take a couple more steps, and it dawns on me that it’s a very wide and very busy walkway that he’s crossing, and there’s no chance he’s gonna make it all the way across without being crushed. That Big Wheel memory comes flooding back, and I think: this is my big chance to save this caterpillar and make up for the one I killed when I was little. Sounds dramatic, but honestly, that’s what hits me. Not more than three or four seconds have gone by before I stop and go back to where I had just seen him inching along. And it’s already too late. There he is, squashed onto the pavement.
At that moment, I learned one of the most important lessons that I’ve ever learned in the realm of “my place in the world.” I usually hear it summed up with something along the lines of, “All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.” Now, I realize that there was no “evil” at work here, but the spirit still applies: laziness, selfishness, indifference, isolationism, even simple neutrality can all be “evil” depending on the context. In the same way that not telling the whole truth is basically lying… not doing the right thing is doing the wrong thing. In those couple of steps, that three or four seconds when I was thinking to myself that it wasn’t my responsibility, that I was in a hurry to get to wherever I needed to go… that caterpillar died.
I know I’ve alluded to this story at least once in the past. I imagine to most of you, it sounds utterly ridiculous, but it’s hard to write about even now. It was one of those seemingly-small life experiences that really and profoundly shapes who you are. It’s why I try to be gentle in all things. It’s why I’m so infuriated by the tyranny of the big guy taking advantage of the little guy. For that reason, it’s why I abhor hunting. And I guess by extension, it’s part of why I went vegetarian. In any situation from nation vs. nation to man vs. man to man vs. caterpillar, when you are the one in power, when you have all the advantages, it is your absolute and sacred responsibility to help protect others who are not so fortunate. And even when in conflict, when the balance is already far in your favor, ideally both parties recognize that, and a vulgar display of power is unnecessary. The end result of all this is that I try my best not to abuse power in situations where I’m fortunate enough to have it. I do what I can to help the proverbial little guy. I don’t ever kill anything purposefully. And when I see a caterpillar in danger, you can be sure I pick it up.
A side note: Part of what moved me to write this tonight is I randomly had occasion to look up Saint Blaise this afternoon. We share a name, but I always remembered him as the patron saint of throat ailments. Not exactly glamorous, but you know. Anyway, digging more into it today, I discovered that he is also the patron saint of wild animals and veterinarians… known for healing and saving animals, including a story in which he saved a pig from a wolf that was attacking it. Anyway, it all seems fitting enough.
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
Well it’s hard to believe, but according to MySpace, this is my 250th blog. Holy shit. Can you believe that? Two hundred and fifty. Think about that for a second. Two hundred and fifty times over the last five years — basically once a week — I have sat down for an hour or so and written out some kind of emotional exhibitionism for you, the reader. In the past, I’ve questioned the wisdom of doing this. Questioned this dubious use of time. Again though, it has served me as the closest thing to a journal that I’ve ever had. And hopefully it’s been entertaining to you on occasion.
What I secretly want to know is: are there people out there that have been reading since the beginning? Possibly even someone who has read all 250? You don’t have to fess up. But to those silent types who read and rarely or never comment… there’s never been a better time to come clean.
I must confess that I’ve looked into moving future blogs off of MySpace. I love that people can access these so easily and comment and all. But I also know that MySpace seems to be losing steam, and then there’s always the chance that the MySpace powers that be could delete my blog or even my profile, and what would be my recourse? More and more, I’m considering continuing on a blog hosted on my own site, where I never have to worry about posting something that might piss the wrong people off. My virtual mouth has led to stuff getting yanked off here before, after all. But once I move off onto my own URL, it seems like I’d run the risk of falling off the radar of what few of you actually care to read what I put up here. And if I’m going to drift further into obscurity, then why keep it up at all? Not sure what to do…
Well, I celebrate my 250th with a massive headache. I managed to bonk my head on a garage door on Sunday, hardest I think I’ve ever hit it. I didn’t lose consciousness, but I’ve had a headache ever since. And not like a bump on my head, but like a full on headache. I don’t think I’m all that clumsy, but I have no one to blame but myself on that one. And in fact, I’m kinda feeling like laying down right now. Here’s hoping I’m back to “normal” tomorrow. 🙁
The quote of the week comes again from Taxi Driver Wisdom, and it sums up my week, my year, and my 250 blogs. Good night, kiddies.
“Whatever you become, someone will long for what you were.”
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
First off, it just so happens that it’s Sus’ birthday today. Go wish her a happy birthday. Go on, I’ll wait.
It seems like it’s been a while since I’ve had anything meaningful to share here. It’s been a confusing time for me lately. Life changes. Work changes. My relationship to those around me changes. I change. I’ve wasted hours like I haven’t in months. I’ve coveted like I haven’t in years. I have thoroughly cleaned my apartment for nothing in particular. I have considered more thoughtfully what I might want from life and what I might be moving towards. I’ve been surprised. I’ve been disappointed. I’ve pondered: is it better to love or be loved?
Now, in what is maybe not my most traditionally masculine admission, I find myself totally wanting to go see South Pacific at the Golden Gate Theater. Anyone want to come with?
It can’t be this Friday though, because that would be the night of TCB‘s return to San Francisco (by way of Café Du Nord)! This is always such a fun show, and you know how swanky Du Nord is. We’ve got some new tunes up our sleeves, and what’s more: the opening act is Erasure-esque! It’s no secret that I <3 Andy Bell (and South Pacific? Hmmm…). So, I know the economy is sucking, and I certainly don’t want to jinx it for ourselves, but the fact is that all three times we’ve played here in the past have been complete sell-outs. So if you want a guaranteed spot at this show, don’t wait to buy your tickets!
With all these Beatles reissues lately, I’ve taken it as a sign that I need to finally delve into their extensive catalogue. You may be surprised to hear that prior to last week, I had never owned a Beatles album of any kind. I mean, I knew the hits and all, but only in so far as they’ve permeated our culture so uniquely. I’m now going chronologically through their offerings, listening and re-listening, trying to absorb it all mainly as an exercise in history, but also as songwriting education. I’m not convinced I’m going to walk away from it all as a “super fan,” but so far, I’m appreciating what I’m hearing. Incidentally, I wonder if Beatlemania 2.0 is bringing any more work for Beatallica?
Completely unrelated to that (despite what would seem to be an obvious Beatles connection), I picked up a Vox AC30 recently. I’d had my eye on one for a few years, but the stars just didn’t align for me to pull the trigger. Well, over Labor Day weekend, there were some exceptionally awesome sales, and while I resisted the initial barrage of marketing (thanks to Wally and I mutually talking each other down off the ledge), when sales were extended an extra day, I couldn’t hold out anymore. It arrived this week, and I got into the studio this afternoon to try it out. And it is lervely indeed. Will it make an appearance at Friday’s Du Nord show? TBD, folks.
The quote of the week comes from Wally, who, after hearing of my eventual surrender to the Vox, was left to face down his own G.A.S. demons:
“By the way, the sale is still on today. Get thee behind me Satan.”
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: busy
What is it with August birthdays? I am not exaggerating when I say that I know four people born on August 22nd. That shit’s astronomical. It also happened to be the day I… uh… became a man. Ah yes, a whole year now it’s been.
Last night was the Deadbolt show in San Jose, and their first NorCal show in years… at least since I first heard about them. A lot of fun, those guys. On stage shooting sparks, breaking boards, throwing stuff, and just weird banter. Merch included nudie magnets, sunglasses, and Tijuana-made beer holsters: worn like a pistol holster but designed to hold a can or bottle. They were wearing and using them on stage, and come to think of it, the bassist had a bottle-opener screwed onto the front of his bass. What a great idea! (If only Mike’s Hard Lemonade wasn’t a twist top, I’d do something like that!) It was a hell of a show, and you probably missed it. But you got one more chance. They’ll be at The Uptown in Oakland next Thursday. And while the Bay Bridge is going to be closed that day, as your attorney, I advise you to make every effort to be there anyway. Mayhaps I’ll see you there.
Deadbolt – Down In The Lab
I don’t remember if I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m a big fan of the $11 organic “milk” shakes at Cafe Gratitude. It’s an unusual place, no question. But if you’ve never been, I definitely recommend trying it out once. And after all, you might spot a celeb there! (Jamie and I once saw Kirk Hammett there.) Anyway, I saw this article the other day. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, assuming it’s even true. Will it stop me from stepping up to the bar and dropping $11 and declaring “I Am Cool?” Not a chance.
In other news, I sold one of The Twins recently. So never again will my glorious pair of turquoise Casinos grace the stage together. Above all else, this alone should demonstrate my commitment to shedding excesses. This is TCB history after all. The Twins were (at least in my mind) pretty iconic of the person I was at that time. And I’m sure some of you early TCB fans remember them, yeah? Well, those days are gone. I’ve moved on. Though what I’m starting to suspect is that my guitar habit quietly transformed into a t-shirt habit. Yes, t-shirts. I think I pick up at least two or three a month these days. It will be years before I ever wear them out. What could possibly possess me to collect them that way? Am I that desperate to be regarded as clever? (Yes. Yes, I am.) Most recently, I’ve been narrowly escaping the urge to pick up obscurities like this Road House shirt. I look at that, and I wonder: will people get it? Another great site is 80’s Tees… so many good ones. I’m reminded though of how my Cobra shirt is temporarily ruined by the fact that there’s a meathead G.I. Joe movie out now. Anyway, what the hell am I saying here? I need to stop buying shirts.
Well now, speaking of hippy restaurants and t-shirt obsessions, the quote of the week comes from the back of the Deadbolt shirt I bought last night:
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: accomplished
Well kiddies, just got back from a pleasant weekend in Anaheim. The House Of Blues show was our best one there yet, with a crowd that included Moz Krew, Irving, Fabi/Megan, Miles, Couch Straps’ Dan, and many more. Saw the Lew women. Met Balls Sr. Visited Montebello for the first time. Got some Claim Jumper and some decadent butterscotch pancakes. Survived the flights. Researched ungodly piercings with Sus and Paul. Lost a pillow fight. A million other things I’m forgetting to mention too. All in only about 24 hours. If only every day could be so eventful. Good times.
I made the mistake of looking in on a bunch of my high school classmates on MySpace and Facebook. Holy shitake! The vast majority of them have goodlooking spouses and/or children in their pictures. WTF? I guess by now the breeders among us have gotten started. To be expected, I suppose. But still shocking. Am I behind the curve? Or did I avoid the trap? Or…? Meh.
So a few weeks back, I posted that parody AFSCME PSA right? Weirdest thing… on my flight today were a ton of people wearing AFSCME shirts. Well in other funny commercial news, who among you remembers this one:
Freedom Rock
Let’s see, what else? I saw The English Beat with Shel, and it was amazing! I’d never seen them before, but I was blown away. A lot of fun, and Dave Wakeling seems like a nice guy. Oddly enough, they were opening up for Reel Big Fish. I don’t know how that works, but whatevs. RBF was fun too, though we only stayed long enough to hear the one song of theirs I remember from my years with Maya: “She’s Got A Girlfriend Now.” A while back there was an SF Symphony event where they were playing old Warner Bros. cartoons, but doing the orchestral soundtrack live along with it! I was so sorry to miss that, but I think I had a show that night. Am I crazy or does that sound like the funnest date? Had I a date instead of a show. Hmmm…
I had just been thinking about that old T.V. show “The State” when I saw on Amazon that the whole series is finally coming out on DVD! It got me to thinking about a few other of my favorite shows that are now also available in complete DVD sets. I’m thinking Kids In The Hall… Dr. Katz… Brisco County Jr. Part of me wants to horde that stuff, but it seems clear enough that DVDs are on their way out in favor of Blu-Ray. I think about the folks I used to know with massive VHS collections. So collecting DVDs seems like a similarly losing battle. I don’t want to buy another DVD. As rarely as I watch the ones I got, the format will be obsolete before I get my money’s worth. I suppose that logic applies to CDs too, but I’m much more heavily invested in that, and plus there does not yet seem to be an heir apparent. But still… I hate to think about that. *cringe*
If you’ve ever flown out of John Wayne Airport in Orange County, then you know that they were long ago pressured to institute a ridiculous noise restriction on flights in and out of there so as not to offend the surrounding communities. The end result is that pilots have to execute this strange take off procedure where you go nearly straight up in the air, then coast silently for a while, and then the engines kick in again. The pilot typically explains this process before you take off, and my flight home today was no different. The quote of the week — nay, the month — comes from the pilot during the “coasting” period of our take off today. Just as the engines go silent, he whispers to all of us over the intercom:
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: lethargic
Last night, I saw Blue Öyster Cult at Slim’s. Somewhere around 15 years ago, I drove to San Francisco with Jared to see what was my first concert in San Francisco: Blue Öyster Cult at Slim’s. Even then, I guess you’d say they were well past their heyday. But it was also way before their cowbell fame, and I don’t mind admitting that “Don’t Fear The Reaper” was among my favorite songs in high school. They did take the stage last night to Walken-infused techno intro music, so BÖC has clearly embraced their new ironic hipness… though why they weren’t cashing in on the obvious merch opportunities (HELLO? How about a souvenir cowbell with their logo on it?) is beyond me.
I’ve been out of commission here for a month. It’s not that I haven’t had anything to say, but you may remember that I was questioning the value of spending too much time typing it out. (I’m still on the fence about that.) In the mean time, I’ve been doing alright. Just hanging in there, weathering this shitstorm of an economy, you know. It hasn’t stopped me from shopping though. I’ve been shirts, and in doing so, I realized that there are websites dedicated to offering clothing that has appeared in movies. Despite the fact that I haven’t worn a tank top in decades, I’m awfully tempted to pick up a Jack Burton replica from the insane Wing Kong site, dedicated to all things “Big Trouble In Little China.” Interesting also (though too corny for me) is The Wanderers replica jacket. Neato!
Oh, and somebody (anybody) I know needs to buy one of these mustache necklaces. Almost as good as that mustache finger tattoo I saw. Imagine being able to hold your index finger to your nose and having an automatic evil mustache. Genius.
Before we go any further, watch this:
AFSCME
There have been several shows lately. The big one for me was the birthday show of course. Thanks to Sus, Ireland’s 32 was decorated with Kung Fu Panda balloons, inflatable guitars, party hats, and three amazing custom picture cakes (with sparkling candles)! I was thrilled with all the folks that attended… off the top of my head, my mar and par, Sus, Anna and Sean, Deanna, Starla, Hawk, some of the Choir Boys and at least one Melano sister, Jonee (with a girl I knew from high school!), a coworker and her friends, Jen J., The Moons, and the mother of all surprises: Jared himself all the way from London!!! Sadly, Shel was the glaring MIA, stuck across the country. Peter was there and joined us on stage for a few songs! We played a couple of Orlie’s originals! Even my dad came up and played a couple of songs with us! We ended up at Sparky’s of course, and I got to catch up with Jared till the wee hours. I got some of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received. It was a really laid back and fun show… and honestly, probably the best birthday I’ve ever had. Thanks again to all of you who made it what it was!
So far, being 30 isn’t so bad. I don’t feel that different, so I guess that’s good. Women tell me that men get better in their 30’s. I’d been dreading that it would be the beginning of my decline. We’ll see, I guess.
Anyway, then there was Santa Rosa… which was a tough sell again. At least there was Denny’s. Then this last weekend was Sacramento and Fresno. It was fucking hot out there. But it was fun, as always. And as always, this particular trip came with its own bizarre stories. Oh, and did I mention it was fucking hot? At one point, my car’s thermometer (which admittedly likes to exaggerate sometimes) read 113°. I’ll note that on my drive home tonight, it read more than 50° cooler than that. Can you imagine? 50°! I can’t stand heat like that. It reminds me of Arizona. Everything becomes more difficult. It saps your energy. And it makes people act crazy. Believe me.
Man, I need to get out more. I’ve been having fun lately, but I do a lot of the same things in the same places with the same people. There’s comfort in that, but it doesn’t give you quite the same room to stretch and grow. Time to shake things up a little. Any ideas?
accomplished
sick
exhausted
sore
full
busy
accomplished
lethargic
