Legend of the Castle of Bubbles
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
stffkttnz's LiveJournal:
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| Tuesday, September 19th, 2006 | | 1:06 pm |
the silence breaks
just after noon, CST: iTunes / brainwashed: Loscil - Zero MediaPlayer / LuxuriaMusic: M Denny (unknown track, classic/generic exotica outro) that reverie ended when the "Nightstalker" theme came on Luxuria; a Stars of the Lid track followed Loscil at brainwashed and I never even noticed it's cold today and I have no winter fat Current Music: as always | | Monday, April 10th, 2006 | | 4:36 pm |
| | Sunday, April 9th, 2006 | | 4:45 pm |
Sausage Party at the Pasta Bar
I arrive at quarter to eleven, with Dinkytownies hoppin' and swaying all around me, all dressed up for a night on the town and a few of them ready to call it a night. Busy sidewalks, busy bars, busy all around. I'm flat broke(1), and hadn't planned on making a night of it -- WRONG! After staying home most of the winter its almost natural that I should get out more in the spring, but . . . another all-nighter? No way, my partying days are over . . . I spot a few folks from the neighborhhood and say hello, fixing to get a drink as soon as I make my way to the bar (nothing like getting a mixed drink at the drugstore you used to hang out at in High School, eh?) I'm there about half an hour when Mike walks in. He's a cool cat himself and a neighbor, and even though he's got a girl he's always the first one on the prowl. "Another Sausage Party tonight? Who scared off all the women?" I point out the fact that there are about 7,000 biological females making their way in a beeline to the Kitty Kat Club but I rather suspect that he's interested in hetero college-aged gals. I finally get my drink (mixed to the usual Loring/Varsity specs of all tonic and no vodka) and am really getting into the groove (as much so as anyone who likes to drink with a dance in his hand, anyway) and pretty much camp out by the stage to watch these guys play. Boogie-woogie piano with some rhythm and blues thrown in for good measure. Standards and covers with a good feel and an original approach on the material overall. Piano, small drum kit, and voice, with a single mic and the P.A. set to "conversationally comfortable." I overhear a few snippets of nearby conversations (probably out of context),and there's one where one of the neighborhood kids refers to the crowd as "nothing but a bunch of adults." I smiled then and I smile now: college aged folks hit 21 and stil think of themselves as kids; they hit adulthood legally at 18. Something to remember. After a few more beers it's already last call and the young folks are getting fidgety: most of the "adults" left hours ago, the dining room is closed for the evening, and some of these dogs still wanna chase some tail. Dinkytowner has free admission tonight for some techno thing - once more unto the brink. . . Saturday morning I wake up to the sound of Led Zeppelin(2) blasting away in the kitchen . . . -----sober translation----- For the past couple of weeks Frank has sat in on drums with a fella named Andrew "Cadillac" Kolstad over at the Loring Pasta Bar. So far so good - the gig is once a week and great exposure to more paying gigs and opportunities. We met Cadillac late last summer(3) through our friend Jim Carmouche, and Frank and Cadillac backed Jim for a set of far-out vocals at Lee's in October. I've since run into Cadillac in passing and he's a real cool cat who was lucky enough to be born into a musical family. I think he plays boogie-woogie piano at four Happy Hours every week, which is how he makes his rent (a professional musician in other words - I keep resisting the urge to ask him what he does for a day job.) Considering the fact that The Loring has Cornbread Harris play piano and sing boogie-woogie rhythm and blues from 6 to 10 on Fridays (the man is amazing), Cadillac has big shoes to fill in the late evening! I still feel too low-class to hang at the Pasta Bar, the Kitty Kat Club, etc. Should I be drinking Martinis instead of beer? Footnotes: 1 stonedashell 2 I'm sure that this won't be the last Saturday I wake up stoned to Zeppelin blasting away 2 . . . and I'm doubly-sure that I partied with him above a certain bar we all know . . . | | Saturday, April 8th, 2006 | | 1:46 pm |
Seventeen straight hours of Hafler Trio
Jon Whitney's been playing them for hours today (How to Slice a Loaf of Bread 3), and since Arik loaned me some discs a while back (including ones I bought years ago!) it seems like it's time to listen to them. | | Thursday, April 6th, 2006 | | 11:39 am |
Zen and the Art of Partying (Part one in an occasional series)
The Background I've kept a low profile all Winter, but when the opportunity to hit an "invite-only" keg party presented itself I made an exception to my recent reclusive nature. The party was South of Lake and I had the impression that it would be arty and upscale, so I tried to dress for the occasion (when we later arrived I noted that the majority of the party-goers were certainly upscale, but that there weren't as many arty folks as I'd anticipated, and this was okay by me: I like being one of the artier people at such an "invite-only" event, especially when I've been well-out of the picture in the sense of the City's many social circles for months.) I've always felt that being outed as an Arty has a way of making you a bit of an iconoclast in such circumstances when Arties are in the minority. So yes, the party was like a challenge in a sense, being that it is still a challenege for me to "act" the part of an iconoclast amongst a bevy of young, hip, post Gen X-aged adults, some of whom had commented on having graduated High School in 1998. I remember thinking to myself: "isn't that 10 years after I graduated?" Getting to the Party We took a Rainbow Taxi at 11:30 P.M. Our driver, John, remarked that he had lived in the FloCo in the 60's and that at the time "you could get stoned by just sticking your head out the window" - I thought 'this is gonna be a fun cab ride!' It was. John got a great tip. We got to the general location at around midnight and started looking for the Rooster. Well, ya see the thing is that we were only told what side of the street the house was on, the Apartment Number, and the Door to knock on - and, of course, we were told that there were both a "rooster" (lawn ornament) and a For Sale sign in the front yard. We could find neither specific signs/place marker in any of the front yards on EITHER side of the block in question, so we went a block in either direction in order to check those front lawns: nada, the Rooster could not be found, only a small Flamingo in a Windowbox. The rooster was apparently two foot tall. We inquired with neighbors - still, nobody could tell us where the Rooster could be found in the neighborhood! We began to think that we were on a Wild Goose chase, and decided to call the person who'd invited us to the party. He began calling other folks to find out which house number it was, and asked us to call back later. We eventually called him and got the right number and entered the party alongside several other persons, none of whom knew anything about a rooster. The fellow who invited us to the gig arrived significantly later in the evening. Cluck Cluck. The party was typical in many way to the parties I recall from my College days: a cuppla kegs, a cuppla trays of brownees/rice crispie bars, a pan of lasagna (vegetarian, natch), some avocado dip, a cuppla bags of doritos, and about seven hundred pounds of marijuana. I described the attendees elsewhere as a cadre of "glassblowers and motherfucking hipsters" and indeed that description is still fitting, although (and I should mention that I was the Squarest cat in the room) there were also a few really young kids, a few Arties, a few musicians, and a few Undeclared Majors. A good mix in other words - I hadn't been to a party like this in years. We sat and moped for a moment when we first arrived, sipping a cuppla Summit IPAs from the 12 pack we had brought along with us (I found out later that the party was a food potluck as well, and I had considered bringing wine: next time for sure.) Eventually I broke ranks and wandered through the kitchen to the back porch where the kegs and smokers were. I engaged in small talk and sawdust-blowing with a fellow using a handsaw to trim an old door (I asked him about the rooster, too) and bantered with a few of the smokers, keg-leaners, and gentlemen engaged in the manly art of Distance Urination (we were on the second floor of a Duplex.) So far so good. By this time Lumpy had made his way to the back porch with the 12 pack, and we continued to drink this while we still possessed some faculty in our taste buds. We all drank and told silly war stories, the kinda stuff you do in a bar when ya don't wanna talk sports or politics. Eventually politics and world events reared their ugly heads and GW was mentioned and dissed repeatedly, although a couple of people threw their hats in the ring on the other side and stood up in the Name of Oil. We drank and smoked and smoked some more before the guy that had initially told us about the party arrived with his posse of finely-attired individuals, and for a moment it was like Prince Rogers Nelson himself had entered the room. Ah, Showmanship! We talked to him and his beautiful accomplices (Significant Other and Charming Ladyfriend of said Significant Other) and began to mingle some with the crowd inside the kitchen and anterooms. The Carpenter from earlier was still planing the door and trying to do the trim the whole while, even though the door he was replacing was the door to the toilet (by the way, said Carpenter was a friend of the hostess and had wanted to do her a favor by replacing a missing door, although some might think that engaging in pre-sunup carpentry in the middle of a House Party is a little odd and possibly anti-social. He wasn't anti-social as it turned out, just a bit odd.) I should clarify something here: the majority of the attendes were people who, for their age, are only *moderate* substance users. Many had been Ritalin kids and knew how not to over-medicate themselves. End of story. We seemed to be having a great time, swiggin' Rebel Yell, drinking MGD after the Leini's was cashed (I killed the Leini's) before finally switching to water as the morning wore on. Eventually the cornucopia of available noshings were masticated by the accumulated post-modern hominids, and some vegetarians even began attacking the spaghetti casserole with little ground-beef meatballs in it. Somebody brought sweets (hard candies and Starbursts) and a package of sunflower seeds. Someone else brought another case of Leinie's cans. Someone even brought a Cheesecake, but it , too, was annihlated over the course of several hours of chamingly incoherent babble. Somebody found a geetar and some hand drums -- uh oh, time for Bob Marley and Sublime karaoke treated with Golden Throats tenderness and ex-Ritalin Rhythm structures (to be honest it was cute and folks had fun with it for a while, before we all realized that Daylight Savings was upon us and some of us were gonna be real tired the next day.) The hostess cleaned and scrubbed pans and stuff and generally tried to get rid of all the schmutz. Folks began accumulating their now-clean dishware a little while later, and we knew the evening was coming to a close. We said our goodbyes (and met a few late arrivals in time to say goodbye, too) and then we all wandered off into the greywhiteness of the morning, as the rain began coming down just South of Uptown. Who knew it was April Fools yesterday? The Rooster Knew. Cockadoodle Doo! P.S. Met a gal that looked like Kath Power of Single Gun Theory. Also said hello to a former co-worker. | | Sunday, April 2nd, 2006 | | 4:56 pm |
Part Two
God I love this town . . . I’ve been walking these same streets for the past twenty years and for some reason I’m still alive, still walkin' ‘em. I came to live in Minneapolis because it seemed to be where most of the things that happened, happened; all the punk rock shows seemed to be here, all the most happening things and trends “from the Coasts” seemed to hit here first, and Saint Paul just seemed a little bit smaller than I remember it being when I was a little kid. Still, when people ask me where I'm from I tell ‘em “East Side, Saint Paul” ‘cuz it’s true, although the way I speak reflects bare traces of the Saint Paul dialect(1). I’ve moved around a little and traveled around a lot, but in the end it’s always these towns I come back to, call it Family Obligations, feelings of familiarity, a feeling of connection with the place . . . Some years back, hangin’ out down by the River with Chachi, we met some folks who had just returned here from living in New Orleans for a while. They were a young couple (but not yuppies) and we were just a couple of City Kids, hangin’ around town and doing what kids in the City do. It was 4 in the morning so maybe the wee hours made an impression, but the way they described it, it was like they felt a mystical connection to this town “if you leave for a while and then return here to live for a while, you’ll always keep returning here, it’s like the town wants you here.” So these two non-yuppie, mystically-inclined non-hippies shared their insight with us and it was fun, just hangin’ out with ‘em, watchin’ the Mississippi flow. “It’s that damn river . . . people always end up down by That Damn River" That’s what my friend Dan would say, and he lived here for a while before Texas called to claim him. But he was right, there is something about That River that draws us to it, maybe something that wants to pulls us all back to the Sea from Whence We Came, which I think is why there’s a strong local connection to New Orleans - it’s by the Sea, and once you’ve seen the Beginning of the River, the End of it just seems like a natural destination. I remember the River a lot from trips across the High Bridge to visit my cousins on the West Side, and although I never actually thought I’d be living by it I *dreamed* that I would. The River always seemed like the shortest distance between two points for me, and I’ve always followed it’s various paths back to my door over the years. I still walk home after shows downtown and the River always seems like the best setting to put things into perspective, as no matter how things seem to change over the years the River is still there. We’d go Down by the River before the shows in the old days, a buncha clean cut kids from the suburbs cuttin’ our teeth on ill-gotten Old Milwaukee before goin’ to all ages shows at The Entry and The Ave, so to me the riverfront has significance due to association with events in my past, not exactly mystical, but every time I walk its banks after a show I remember the other, now-countless times I’d done the same. After the Boy George show for example. Now that really WAS a mystical experience, high as a kite in the gayest crowd I’d ever been to at The Ave, dancin’ like a fool to jazzed up, funked-up, reggaefied Culture Club classics and new cuts from the then-new album. The thought of being High at a “Gay Show” never really crossed my mind, but this was some Family acid, the kind that we sold in The Day, and the whole experience was a massively revealing one, spiritual in fact (as acid is wont to make such experiences) and the walk home by The River helped bring it all back home in more ways than one. I think I finally realized, at that point, the spiritual connection not only between music and it’s listeners but between DANCE MUSIC and it’s listeners. Thing is, if you are “homophobic” and at a Boy George concert you probably are in the wrong place at the wrong time, but if you are homophobic and tripping on acid you will probably be running like hell for the door! So there it was; the acid made me realize I ain’t homophobic but I ain’t gay, neither – I love this old quote about Jack Parsons, “bisexual at the very least” (given the context of the quote and the context of my own experiences over the years I think that quote fits right about here in this spiel.) So I’m a nominally straight, homo-tolerant dancing his nominally-white ass off at the gayest show ever, and it was the Music that got me in the end, the Spiritual connection. Same thing for Reggae music; not music to mosh or pogo to necessarily but it’s dance music . . .it has an inherent, dominant spiritual component that drew me in and if nothing else broke down whatever Color barrier might’ve ever existed in me. I think it was the first time I saw Burning Spear at the Ave (’93) and the Soul and Heart of this man’s music moved me like nothin’ else, and I remember dancin’ like there was no tomorrow, regardless of my Square Getup (I’ve never been into Tams and Hempadelic fashions), and at the end of the night almost hookin’ up with some Square cutie who’d been ogling me all night – I say Almost because it’s true, and also because it marked the first time I realized that Hookin’ Up just ain’t my thing, baby, I’m a Slow Mover in the ways of the heart, Zero to Sixty in five minutes. But the connection, the Spiritual Connection to Dance Music kept cropping up: “Nik Turner’s Hawkwind” in '94, with SLEEP opening, I danced my fool head off for what seemed like hours, and ended up walkin’ home with a Dude . . . whoops! (hey, if you were in my shoes, dancing next to Pete Burns -Google the name, kids- and were high as a kite you’d make the same mistake!) Spiritual Connection to Dance Music . . . and to Drugs. Over the years The Drugs have acted as a Gateway and as a Barrier, whether they be the simple social lubricant known as beverage alcohol or something harder or simply more fucked-up. The Drugs have been kind for a minute but Not Kind Forever, and it took a couple of years after that "Hawkwind" show to really kick ‘em back to the curb where they belonged (booze was harder – hey, I grew up next to a brewery.) I still burn the Herb (sue me) but as I’ve finally stumbled out of my twenty year adolescence I’ve finally begun to realize, more and more each day, how The Drugs were a barrier: the Music is enough, the Spiritual Connection is there and is in sufficient quantity in the Dance Music itself. Other people have problems with The Drugs, friends of mine in fact, and I don’t know how to help them other than to offer them my unconditional love and support: kickin’ the habit is a job that starts with the will of the individual, but anything I can do to help from there on out (short of supplying a fix during a relapse) I will do. I’ve had too many friends, too many wonderful people die because they couldn’t kick, they od’d, had a bad cocktail, mixed the wrong things . . . I don’t want to see that happen anymore. If it were my heart they were breakin’ I could maybe handle it, but there are too many hearts that get broken. I’ll never go back to Those Old Days, in fact, since the yesterday, when the seed of Part 2 began to germinate in my head, I hit a party and well, keep readin’ (it’s comin’ back around.) This wasn’t a big shindig, very low-key, less than 100 college-educated Glass Shop employees, musicians, artists, and motherfuckin’ hipsters - I was definitely the Squarest cat there. It was a food pot-luck (who knew?) but I’m polite and contribute at parties anyway, brought a 12 pack of Summit I.P.A. (SAINT PAUL REPRESENT!) With just beer (two kegs – ha!) and a smattering of red and white table wines, this thing shoulda been over by 2, but don’t ask me why we stayed ‘til 6 (I blame Daylight Savings) . . . oh yeah: Glass Shop employees, Uptown kids. After the first keg fried (your’s truly, natch) I walked into the kitchen and asked “what’s up with No Smoke in tha house?” The reply: “you can’t smell it?” I did, FINALLY: I followed my nose (just like Toucan Sam always sings) and the rest of the evening went swimmingly – no drunken brawls, no party fouls, just hangin’ out with folks pickin’ geetar and bangin’ on hand drums. Somebody offered me some hash and I’m like “no thanks.” No thanks. No Thank?!? Sayin’ no to hash in Uptown with seventy hipsters and glass-blowers in the hizzouse? I don’t like to say I’m strong-willed but I stick to my guns: I’m not goin’ back to anything stronger than a 420, and even there I’ve cut back. About the time I asked “what up with no smoke?” the topic of conversation had eventually turned to substances. This is what brings me back again, to Thursday at The Entry, and the thoughts that occupied my mind as I watched The Knotwells play. I watched and reminisced morosely, thinking of the many times that I was so basically out of it that I couldn’t really appreciate the music, couldn’t really enjoy the show, even though I *thought* I could, thought I was having “a great time.” The Drugs were the barrier, on too many occasions. Too many, but not all: I’ve seen countless shows at that old Bus Depot and will doubtless see countless more, it’s a part of me, that place is part of my Soul, and The Drugs WON’T win. But I stood there, remorseful, watching them play, realizing I’d missed so much of the performance aspect over the years, so much of the musicianship. I know I’m not the only one that’s missed these aspects, and I know I don’t ever want to miss ‘em again. I said as much at the party last night: when your entire back-story revolves around substances and folks wonder how and why ya got there and how and why ya won’t go back, ya gotta LET ‘EM KNOW! . . . . I first saw SCAC in 2001, in The Entry, and yeah . . . I was a little less than sober. But the thing is? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not riffin’ on hyperbole here, but the Auto Club played so well that the buzz, the high, the SHIT in my system was overpowered, overpowered by the sheer musical brilliance and the Spiritual nature of the music itself. . . Dance Music. I was Hooked . . . on Slim Cessna’s Auto Club!!!!! After the show we talked to Slim and to Munly and they were the nicest dudes, honest, forthright, sincere, and if I might say it Humble. We got along ell, and talked about the popular music world, talked about the folks of Denver, and broached the whole Christian Question: are they a “Christian Band”? Do they get along with non-Christians? Yes, they get along with non-Christians and no, they’re not a Christian Band per se and don’t expect to be pigeon-holed as such. We dropped Uncle Boyd and asked if they were diametrically-opposed and Slim just laughed(3) - at that point I realized that Slim was one of the coolest cats I’d met in ages. I was more than satisfied: this band was For Real, not a gimmick, not a one-trick pony, but a vibrant and truly original presence in a music world full of over-produced, gimmicky, sound-alike Popstars looking for the big hit that’ll translate them into Muzak fodder. the past try my best to comprehend . . . . . . . I walked home from Thursday’s show a little less melancholy than I’d arrived. I passed through Downtown, sailed over the Stone Arch Bridge, and passed the tree in which I sat and contemplated the world after the Boy George show. I took the old pathway to the Steam Plant, feet sinking deep into the mud of Spring’s chthonic resurgence. I arrived home to ponder some more before calling it a night. On Saturday evening I washed the mud of 10 years off my shoes. Links n’ Notes http://www.nikturner.com/ 1. Apart from a bit o’ the Catholic “s” 2. Nothin’ happened, we just talked music ‘til dawn, droppin’ crazy science on each other. Cool as hell! Officially I guess this makes me “bi-affectionate”. See also: http://www.undercover.com.au/pics/cher_rodlaver260205_10.jpg Priceless. 3. Some years later, David Gayman would ask me if I was a practitioner of the “Right Hand Path” and *I* just laughed. Current Music: Chuck Berry | | Saturday, April 1st, 2006 | | 5:36 pm |
Sober Hindsight vs LiveFastDieYoung ... SCAC, 7th Street 3/30/06
Another Slim Cessna show in the 7th Street Entry(1), YEE-HAW!!!!! I BADLY wanted to bring two friends, but (sez them): "it's a work night, plus I don't care to sit through The Knotwells(2)" ... THIS coming from dudes that useta stage dive at Ministry and Jane's Addiction? What's up with ALL of my friends getting OLD? For that matter, why'd I drag my own OLD-self down?(see 3) Th' night started badly; I don't get food poisoning often but I had a spell (musta been all the cheeze from My Name is Earl) before leaving. Missed Roger Green's set, but his 8 foot frame impressed me greatly. I was sober when I arrived n' sober when I left; fact is I was practically straight-edge. Weird. The Knotwells played rather well, played-together in fact, and with more assurance than the last time I saw 'em. They even kicked out a new song (with a saved-lyrical-slip) and introduced a new instrument. I'm not censoring myself, but there are some things I wanna say here that I won't, mostly 'cause most folks just won't understand. I will say this: Sober Hindsight is a crazed bitch in a cage match(4). After a cuppla beers I had risen above the food poisoning, and felt well enough ta bounce around by the time the Auto Club took the stage. As expected, they once again exceeded my expectations, delivering a tight, high-energy set punctuated by some of the most effusive showmanship and competent musicianship you'll find in a touring band anywhere. A set full of old favorites, a new song, and a blazing encore made for a lot of happy feet and about 18 gallons of sweat. This band has established an audience in this town, an audience increasingly bolstered by a rotating cast of fans, groupies, and hangers-on . . . EXCELLENT! I walked home sober, sullen, and searching. God I love this town . . . (End Part 1) 1. The Entry is where I first saw Slim. I was impressed enough to write a "review" of the show (*cough* http://blog.myspace.com/beerlord ) I LOVE THE ENTRY, it's my second home, and fave place to see a band. 2. The Knotwells are friends of these Old Dudes who expect WAY TOO MUCH of 'em, period. I Give Up. 3. Here's why: Slim and the boys put on the best live show I've seen in years, and they do it CONSISTENTLY. Their songs are inspired and their musicianship is inspiring -- how many other bands can I say that about, past or present?(The Master Musicians of Joujouka, Slayer, and Black Sabbath notwithstanding.) 4. See Part 2. Current Music: some German cover of a Neil Diamond song | | Wednesday, March 29th, 2006 | | 10:26 am |
Female companshionship, lack thereof, and Tree Huggin'
Last week I coughed-up some disjointed thoughts onto my Myspace ("Dames, man, dames . . .") after having spoken with my roommate's mother on the phone. I've spoken with her in the past, but what caught my attention this time is that she was in-line with her grandson's mother (yeah Frank has a baby-momma) in thinking I'm weird for not having a girlfriend or significant other at my age [Side Note: a roommate without his own cel phone means I've become an involuntary message service and support-group member.] I've rationalized my lack-of-S.O. often enough in the past that by now I feel as if my situation really isn't out of the ordinary, but others stil think I'm nuts, and should be married with kids or "at least dating!" But years of habitual online-dating (browsing, mainly) pretty well convinced me that I'm better off single, pursuing my happy, Monk-like bachelorhood. But while busy perusing the personals over the years I caught wind of a fairly wide current running beneath the tide of contemporary Breeder mentality, issuing in a roundabout way from the Deep Ecology movement. The tip of this iceburg (sorry for switching metaphors!) was a dating service for folks who are not interested in reproducing, I forget the name of the organization but it struck me as something like "Lonely Together" (which sounded pretty fucking depressing, actually), and for half a second I considered signing on with this crazy dating service. But swimming around the iceberg a bit, and feeling the chill of the current, I learned that that dating service was a fairly recent development, an offshoot of the theory of Zero Population Growth ("The limiting of population increase to the number of live births needed to replace the existing population"), which is more of that Deep Ecology stuff. I'm a terrible Fence-Sitter when it comes to Ecology: how many Republicans quite regulalrly fall and land on the side that claims "global warming = too many people, too many cars, too many Western Fat Cats using everything up!" [Side Note 2: I was in Texas recently while wildfires scorched milions of acres of brushland from the Pandhandle to the Oklahoma border -- Bruce Sterling has words on that: "The Wolf is at the Door"; http://www.viridiandesign.org/] Hell, I'm just conflicted, a conservative with Tree-Hugger leanings. My background instilled in me the idea of Living Lighter on the planet. My dear old dad taught me about Solar (particularly pasive solar) energy when I was a kid, and he incorporated many energy efficent design measures into his projects over the years. He grew up on a farm and we still have family in that trade, and they are VERY keen on ecology. As a we had an acre garden in the back yard with a compost alongside. So while I'm not exactly a tree-hugger (Phish and patchouli ain't my style) it's easier than ever to stay informed of the issues (BIG and not so big) these days thanks to the internet. Thanks to checking in at Viridian every so often I learned about the SMART and Zap cars, and I really like the thinking behind them: http://www.smart.com http://www.zapworld.com/index.asp Somewhere else I saw a laptop bag with built-in solar panels for charging a cel phone . . . A few links before I go Hug another Tree: http://www.zpg.org/ is now http://www.populationconnection.org/ (because it's never too late for a name change) http://www.overpopulation.net/ Reminds me of the Iraq Body Count http://www.iraqbodycount.net/Google "Voluntary Human Extinction Movement" and you'll find an excellent link to an overview of the organization at Failure Magazine. http://www.vhemt.org/ I wanna join (pronounced "Vehement" !!! End Note: I missed the recent "CNN report" (all two minutes of it) on the Asexual Movement. Ack... Current Music: none (for once!) | | Friday, March 24th, 2006 | | 2:17 pm |
| | Wednesday, March 22nd, 2006 | | 1:15 pm |
The Lustron Home, modern day PreFab houses, and Space Age daydreaming
This weekend I watched a program on the Home and Garden channel themed around “homes for $200 thousand”. The program profiled a couple of suburban homes along with several converted warehouse spaces and lofts, but what really caught my eye was a pre-fab home for sale in Minneapolis’ Hale neighborhood. The home, one of only 2500 produced, was a “Lustron Home”, and a google search found this page http://members.tripod.com/~Strandlund/index-6.html with the skinny. Granted a 1000 square foot home isn’t a dream house by most folks’ standards, but the concept of the Lustron Home was a timely one and the homes were built to last. It’s essentially a “granny house”, but who wouldn’t go for a starter home for 200 thousand in the Nokomis area? While looking for information on the Lustron I found a site devoted to current pre-fab builders and designers, FabPreFab. The first photo at http://www.fabprefab.com/fabfiles/fablisthome.htm links to locally-based Alchemy Architects and their weeHouse concept, and if you scroll through the photos at http://www.fabprefab.com/fabfiles/fabzonehome.htm you’ll find a couple of homes designed by the U of M’s own Ralph Rapson, designer of the infamous Cedar Square West ( http://www.riversideplaza.net/) Fun stuff right there, kids! It’s no accident that I developed a casual interest in architectural design, as my Dad was an architect. He got his degree in Architecture from the U of M, and when I was a kid he’d frequently drag me along on day trips (and road trips) to his old haunts. Back then I’d dig through his old design and engineering textbooks and try to make sense of them (I wonder what happened to ‘em?), mainly inspired by the photos and illustrations, all of which were a product of the Space Age. As such, a modern design approach was fairly well ingrained in my head by the time I began reading (SciFi, of course) and drawing futuristic designs of my own. Too bad my ambition and lifestyle led elsewhere over the years - - I might’ve even become an architect designing retro-Space Age homes today! On that note, here’s a link to another site: http://www.retrofuture.com/ Current Music: some crazy ass surf band | | Monday, March 20th, 2006 | | 1:19 pm |
The conflict in Iraq as catalyst for change (AP item @ Yahoo)
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060320/ap_on_re_mi_ea/iraq_joe_johnsonArticles like this weren't on the main page at Yahoo two years ago, but on the third anniversary of the second invasion of Iraq I take this as a sign of the times. Two quotes stood out: "I really don't want to kill innocent people" "But what about revenge? 'If I go home and didn't kill a terrorist, it's not going to ruin my life,' he said. 'Maybe I'd just as soon not. I don't know what it would do to my head.' " No doubt that this article makes the Anne Coulter's of the world livid, with its TREASONOUS, defeatist, America-hating liberal bias, but in the end it seems not only to be an honest portrayal of a single American soldier but also as a signpost and standard-bearer for many Americans. When coupled with last week's reports that protests marking the invasion's third anniversary drew fewer participants than expected (according to Police, anyway), this article seems to indicate that the Right has lost as much steam as the Left, and it also seems to indicate that many of those who'd never questioned the return to Iraq are finally trying to answer that question for themselves. I'm generally an optimistic person, and I take notice when I read about a military family questioning their motivations (revenge? bloodlust?) On the other hand, on the growing concern over Civil War in Iraq, I am NOT so optimistic, and wonder whether a sectarian/religiously-motivated civil war wasn't the intent all along, a civil war to further destabilize the Middle East. But de-stabilizing to what purpose? A good question I think. A couple years ago, right after the start of the second invasion, I read a book entitled Prophecy and Politics, written by the late Grace Halsell. The book made strong accusations about the intent of Christian Zionists (a.k.a. Dispensationalists), many of whom nowadays make up the ranks of the so-called Neo-Cons. Ms. Halsell wrote Prophecy in the late 1980s and later re-iterated her thesis in Forcing God's Hand (an article with links to the books: http://www.mediamonitors.net/grace2.html ) Halsell's basic thesis is that it's the intention of Christian Zionists to bring about the Second Coming of Christ by way of their manipulation of Middle East affairs. It's worth noting that Halsell isn't the only one who believes this thesis. | | Monday, March 13th, 2006 | | 12:00 pm |
Crime / Parties / Chili / NOODLES / Snow
Some months back there was an increase in crime (partciularly burglary and face-to-face robbery) in my neighborhood, and it was put down to all those poor displaced folks from New Orleans comin' up here just plain desperate to survive. I can't agree with that general assessment only 'cuz I didn't witness anything firsthand, but the crime rate (or, the very awareness of crime) has seemed higher throughout the winter - I looked out the window the other day to see cops outside talking to an obviously distraught neighbor, and during New Year's week I saw one dude chasing another from the rear of the building ("on-street" parking, a.k.a. where cars often get broken into) around three A.M., with the cops arriving shortly thereafter. I've lived in this area for fifteen years and have seen my share of crime, ben on the receiving end too, as have all of my friends who have lived in the area - yes ALL of 'em, and not "some" or "most." I guess I'm saying that such crime is very likely, and the supposed increase is simply a matter of a number of college undergrads coming to terms with their surroundings; Mineapolis ain't a small town, although some folks sem to think it is . . . 'nuff said. There was a keg party at my neighbor's the other day and I didn't go - that's a first for me. I've made about fifty gallons of chili (veggie and/or meat) in the past month for a roommate who never really learned to cook the stuff the way that I did. Granted I cooked for a living for some years, but that's a LOT of chili! It's a good thing I'm only hungry for it during the winter and winter has returned! I'm gonna go get a disposable camera and take some pictures while the snow is still hanging heavy on the trees. United Noodles. Ramen noodles were a favorite snack in high school, a staple in college, and since then their cheap ubiquity encouraged me to become adventurous in 'cooking for one.' I'm no stranger to mom and pop shops but United Noodles is truly an Asian supermarket. Their recent expansion allows for distinct ethnic aisles (e.g. Japanese food, gifts, and video) and the addition of a small cafe makes them appealing when you go there to shop for groceries while hungry (a quick snack can help you focus on the essentials.) I swear that their selection improves with each visit! http://www.unitednoodles.com/contact.cfm2015 E 24th Street Minneapolis, MN 55404 (612)721-6677 Current Music: Bobby Darin - Mack the Knife | | Wednesday, March 8th, 2006 | | 11:47 am |
More musings on Greasy Spoons and not-so-greasy chopsticks
We hit the Rogers Truck Stop on Sunday, and I wanna give *BIG* kudos to the staff, who refreshed the buffet for us: we got there with thirty minutes left until the buffet was over and ate like a football team. These folks are AWESOME! The one thing I wanted to point out -especially if yer old enough to remember Rogers as a burg with vast, empty acreage- is that the land around this particular fork in the road has seen MASSIVE commercial development in the past five years, first with a Target Greatland and lately with the positively collossal Cabela's. The Truck Stop used to stick out more when the land was mostly flat and rolling, but now it's hidden behind a retro-themed Denny's -- don't be fooled by that shiny exterior! Drive on past Denny's 'til ya git to the place with the 18-wheelers parked out front. The breakfast buffet is from 7 'til 11:00 A.M., $6.50 for all you can eat scrambled eggs, fancy scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, pancakes, french toast sticks, biscuits and sausage gravy, hasbrowns, and the best Hashbrowns O'Brien this side of the Metro. And yeah, their regular breakfast menu puts Denny's and Perkins to shame. On Saturday, before rolling through the endless Western burbs, we hit Tea House for lunch and split a few entrees and appetizers. Now, fifteen years may not seem like a long time to some of you, but that’s not what matters. What matters is that this place hasn’t changed their recipes in fifteen years, which means that they’re still the best Szechuan joint in town. Tea House serves my favorite Kung Pao Chicken, Orange Beef, and some of my favorite Hot Sour soup, all available as part of their Weekday Lunch Buffet. If you find yerself out there with a craving for Szechuan soul food, this is the place! Tea House (Plymouth, MN) http://ourteahouse.com/Now debating: breakfast or lunch? | | Tuesday, March 7th, 2006 | | 3:15 pm |
Sixteen beers and a cryptic analogy . . .
-OR- (A meditation on finding an island of Tiki Culture amidst the deep, endless seas of Shopping Malls) It was Saturday and we were out in the endless Western Lands(1), shopping . . . endlessly shopping. I rarely shop, mainly ‘cuz I’m a man (not to mention a reclusive old crotchet with an aversion to Malls and materialism), but I did say WE, and the we I refer to was not me and the frog in my pocket but my “weekend family”, Uncle Fran’s family. Modern families take to shopping as naturally as the Neanderthal took to hunting and gathering, and a trip to Maple Grove followed a few hours at Ridgedale. For the three of you who don’t know, Maple Grove is an endless sprawl of shopping possibilities complete with a “new downtown” and an open-air mall (Arbor Lakes) that differs from the long-cherished traditional Strip Mall only in its Pottery Barn pomp. A trip to Chuck E. Cheese was the specific reason we found ourselves in The Grove (2), but the shopping just never seemed to cease, with odds and ends accumulating in the trunk following each successive visit the way Cheerios accumulate beneath the car seat of a toddler(3). Eventually we found ourselves at Target, virtually exhausted, at closing time, sitting in the kind of patio-furniture that Sam Walton probably dreamed he’d be selling one day. It was from this vantage point that I observed the piece de resistance: http://www.target.com/gp/detail.html/602-6896563-2522213?%5Fencoding=UTF8&frombrowse=1&asin=B000A6UMUWThe Tiki Era began in the late 1950s and took off like a flash, thanks to the addition of Hawaii as the fiftieth state and the nostalgia of Americans who had seen active duty in the Pacific during World War II and Korea. But like all post-modern trends Tiki too had a shelf life, and the confluence of Polynesian cuisine and pre-fab kitsch was considered “too exotic” for not only staid Minnesota but for most of the Continental U.S, and by the 70’s it was all over. Despite a blink-and-you-miss-it revival in the mid 1990’s (4), Tiki is largely a relic of the past in 2006. Still, a handful of late-to-the-party Revivalists have clung-tightly to rare vestiges of this once-great strain of Cocktail Culture, aided in many cases by long-time Tiki fanatics. Tiki got in my blood at a young age, barely old enough to toddle to my mother’s collection of LP’s, where the names Arthur Lyman, Les Baxter, and Martin Denny would soon became etched permanently into my pint-sized grey matter. When my mom passed away a few years ago it was those LPs that I snapped-up first (well, that and Elvis.) Everything else could burn (5). As kids in the 1970s we had plenty of interesting friends, and some of them happened to be from a Chinese American family that owned a place called Bali Hai. Although they might suffer by comparison to “authentic” cuisines available to area diners today (6), to the palate of a kid that hadn’t yet hit puberty such otherworldly fare as Pu Pu Platter and Egg Foo Young were the very Height of high cuisine. By extension, the Bali Hai’s Tiki lounge was the pinnacle of adult sophistication, and for years the place was a highly-regarded destination known for their Polynesian floor show. It has since been demolished in favor of a Caribou, a cel-phone shop, and a Chipotle (7). With the advent of the internet (and ever since I hooked up the Broadband) I’ve been streaming as many Surf, Lounge, and Exotica stations as I can find and am not looking back! Still, I collect odd, old vinyl alongside the occasional splurge on the bits of era-specific ephemera and knick knacks that I find along my beerhounding travels (I am by no means a completeist-perfectionist in the area of Tiki collecting: I’ll settle for a $300 Target re-pro in favor of one of the custom built, high-quality Tiki bars available elsewhere for around $3000 smackers – that’s enough for an Isolation Tank!) Being a natural-born codger (not much of a joiner), the latest Tiki revival is rare in that it means for the first time in my life I am not alone in my oddball tastes and interests (8), and yet I sincerely hope it manages to find a few more adherents before more of the old bars get dozed, only to be replaced by the more politically-correct pap of today’s Strip Mall couture. Besides, I need a few more Hawaiian shirts – spring is around the corner. ----- Resources, Links, and Lounges: Tiki Central http://www.tikiroom.com/tikicentral/bb/index.phpB.B.S. and jumping-off point with AWESOME links such as the following: http://www.retroathome.com/gallery/tiki/2005_0419Image0020 Tiki Boyd’s http://www.tikiboyds.com/Recommended reading: http://www.tikiboyds.com/texts/paradise.htmlTiki Bar T.V. http://www.tikibartv.com/I just found another reason to like Canada. Psycho Suzi's http://www.psychosuzis.com/Nordeast Minneapolis is considered the epitome of HIP to some, and a paradise of dive bars to others, so how do these two impressions reconcile? By meeting at Psycho Suzi’s for a round of cheap canned beer and sugary mixed drinks. The owner of this place may be her own worst enemy (aren’t we all?) but it’s a good bar, a good Tiki lounge, and the food is also supposedly good (but who eats when there’s booze to be had am I right?) Staff have helped me into a sugary buzz on more than one occasion in the past. Now Listening to: The new Stereolab” (a.k.a le Futur Pompiste); ‘The Teenage Bill of Rights’ by Burt Ward (yep, “Robin” from T.V.’s “Batman” Brilliant shit! Check out this link for more http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0964704803/ref=pd_bbs_null_1/104-7901836-7807958?s=music&v=glance&n=5174)) 1. Lovecraft, Burroughs, and . . . PunkeMon - it just makes sense: http://www.studiohunty.com/punkemon/main.html2. “The Grove”, as it is affectionately called by its expatriates, is also the name given to the coming-soon supermall that will take up some of the space long-held by Barton Sand and Gravel. 3. FruitLoops in the case of this particular vehicle, which I might add is NOT a minivan! 4. Spearheaded by renowned Goofball Boyd Rice. Google his name, ya lazy bitches! 5. The 5” CD jacket does nothing to improve on 12” of bizarre-o 50’s pop art, sorry. Those were some pretty BIG visual impressions for a young buck to shake! Yeah, obviously I own a buncha the CDs, too. 6. Torn down in 2001 . . . God I miss this place! DEATH TO MCDONALDS!!!!! 7. They were a step-up from Sui-Yep’s Chow Mein on Rice Street, during an era seemingly devoid of Szechuan and Cantonese cuisine. 8. Don’t ever get me started on retard snuff porn Current Music: it's in there somewhere | | Wednesday, February 22nd, 2006 | | 2:17 pm |
Favorite Greasy Spoons Part 3
Musings and notes: - I've never been to the Ideal Diner on Central - I've never visited Serlin's on Saint Paul's Rockin' East Side even though I grew up in that 'hood - I keep hearing good things about Hell's Kitchen downtown . . . - The Hard Times deserves a mention, although it is obviously MUCH MORE than a mere greasy spoon. - Al's has a vocal, loyal following even though the staff are a bit "out of the ordinary". - I still miss the Valli. http://www.lileks.com/mpls/uofm/dinkytown/valli/valli1.htmlNotes: I wasn't sure at first but yep, The Flame burns 24/7 at two SAINT PAUL locations! At 2534 Rice St (Little Canada) and 933 Minnehaha West in the Macalaster-Groveland neighborhood. "Cattleman's" is actually Stockmens Truck Stop -- my bad, but a rose by any other name and all that. Address, phone, and . . . would ya believe some of these joints have Websites! Al's Breakfast 413 14th Ave SE Minneapolis, MN 55414 open weekdays 6 A.M. to 1 P.M., weekends 8 'til 2 Bonnie's Cafe 2160 University Avenue St. Paul (Midway) Stockmens Truck Stop 501 Farwell Ave South Saint Paul I-494, Exit 64A Day by Day Café 477 W. 7th St. St. Paul, MN 55102 (612) 227-065 http://www.daybyday.comEmily's Family Diner 44th Avenue North at Penn Ave North, Minneapolis (Camden) Flameburger 4800 N Central Ave NE Columbia Heights http://www.theflameburger.com/Mickey’s Diner 36 W. Ninth St., St Paul, MN (651) 222-5633 -and- 36 West 7th Street 24/7 Rogers Truck Stop (TA-Twin City West) 13400 Rogers Drive, Rogers, MN I-94 Exit 207 (MN 101) Sunny Side Up 2704 Lyndale Avenue South Minneapolis The Diner 2545 27th Ave South Minneapolis, MN 55406 (Seward) | | 10:48 am |
Favorite Greasy Spoons Part 2
Al's Breakfast - Minneapolis - Dinkytown / Southeast Bonnie's Cafe - Saint Paul - Midway (University at Vandalia) Cattleman's Restaurant - South Saint Paul / Stockyards Day by Day Café - Saint Paul / West 7th Street Emily's – Minneapolis - North / Camden Flameburger – Columbia Heights / Hilltop Mickey’s Dining Car - Saint Paul / Downtown Rogers Truck Stop - Rogers, MN Sunny Side Up - Minneapolis - South / Lyndale near Lake The Diner - Minneapolis / Seward The world is a big place and most of the time it seems like there’s something that will appeal to everyone. Some folks gravitate towards fine dining, elegance, taste, and sophistication while other folks gravitate towards greasy spoons. I’ve always been more of the latter, even though I harbor rare beer-geek sentiments and know a good sushi joint when I see one. Here are ten greasy spoons that I would recommend to fellow greasy spoon enthusiasts. And while I’m not anal enough to rate these on a point spread, I've got a few comments to share. Al’s Breakfast is probably legendary for the wrong reason -- the place is TINY, only 14 seats and barely enough room for customers to squeeze in and out, and in the winter it’s the steamiest joint around. Fairly simple menu They don’t accept plastic, just cash and checks. Bonnie’s Café is stuck in the middle of the Midway industrial corridor, so aesthetically it’s like a tuck stop combined with a small town restaurant. Quaint isn’t quite the right way to describe it, but neither is cozy . . . maybe friendly fits the bill. Cattleman’s is a Truck Stop, and there are precious few authentic truck stops in town. To find another one like this you’ll have to take a road trip down south. I recommend the Biscuits and Gravy. Day by Day Café got its start as a place where folks recovering from addictions could earn an honest living, a great idea if you ask me. I’ve only been here once, but I liked it plenty. Check it out if you find yerself in that neck of the woods around breakfast time. Emily’s in Camden is definitely cozy, but might not appeal to someone who has grown accustomed to fine dining. To me it seems like visiting your favorite relatives, comfortable, warm, and friendly. Try their Biscuits and Gravy.* The Flameburger in Hilltop is the last of a chain that once called the Twin Cities home. The Flame is definitely Atkins-friendly, with a focus on American-style grilled burgers and steaks. Open 24 hours? Hell yes, and for years this place had the distinction of being the closest 24 hour restaurant to downtown, that is, when they close Embers in Uptown and Perkins ceased it’s all night fun on Riverside. Steak and Eggs at 4 A.M., amen! Mickey’s is another local legend, and was the first dining car I had the pleasure to visit. 24-7 last time I checked, and well-known to the after bar crowd. Their Hashbrowns O’brien are particularly good, especially after a local bar crawl. Rogers Truck Stop is what it says, although it’s probably cleaner and more modern than the truck stops you remember from college road trips and family vacations as a kid. I recommend the Breakfast Buffet, and also recommend you wear loose jeans – Ham steaks the size of yer friggin’ head! Sunny Side Up in Uptown is a comfy, cozy, great place to get spotted the morning after . . . if ya know what I mean. The food is good, the service is good, and the waitresses are frequently cuter than the girl you shagged last night. For the record I think that who you sleep with is your business, but you shouldn’t be surprised if people get the wrong idea, and this is a great place for people to get the Wrong Idea. The Diner is across the street from Stardust Lanes and down the street from the Hexagon. If that’s not enough of a draw, picture an old fashioned American Diner serving Thai food and 75 cent hamburgers on Wednesdays - huzzah! *Biscuits and Gravy are a beautiful thing when yer nursing a hangover, and we were there the morning that The Dinkytowner added it to their menu. For those who haven't visited the Dinkytowner let's just say that it's not on anyone's top ten list, unless yer thinking a list of Top Ten Worst Dining Experiences. Anyway, the Dinkytowner's Biscuits and Gravy do not have sausage in the gravy! | | Tuesday, February 21st, 2006 | | 8:37 pm |
Favorite Greasy Spoons
Favorite Greasy Spoons (alphabetical by name, not ranked) 1) Al's Breakfast - Minneapolis - Dinkytown / Southeast 2) Bonnie's Cafe - Saint Paul - Midway (University at Vandalia) 3) Cattleman's Restaurant - South Saint Paul / Stockyards 4) Day by Day Café - Saint Paul / West 7th Street 5) Emily's – Minneapolis - North / Camden 6) Rogers Truck Stop - Rogers, MN 7) Sunny Side Up - Minneapolis - South / Lyndale near Lake 8) The Diner - Minneapolis / Seward This idea hit me one morning as I read reviews of local watering holes. The review of The Dinkytowner at http://scott.mcgerik.com/ got me wheels turning (read a few of Mr. McGerik’s reviews an' see if you don’t agree that he’s just another wine snob/foodie that likes to the sound of his voice.) The comment that made me laugh out loud was in response to one of his many pans of established area greasy spoons. I’m paraphrasing, but the comment ”I don’t want people to think that I slept with the person I’m eating breakfast with!” followed a review of the Sunny Side Up on Lyndale and seemed to have been made in all seriousness. Everyone has a right to their opinion and McGerik is not shy with his, being one of the most prolific bloggers in the Twin Cities area. Nothing is new on the internet, and taking the piss out of greasy spoons while your buddies cheer you on from the sidelines is like shooting fish in a barrel. That being said . . . (to be continued) | | Saturday, February 18th, 2006 | | 10:23 am |
Freezing my ass off like the rest of you . . .
Listening to reggae only acts as a balm while I'm inside. Cheap beer and cheaper pot help keep the balm balmy but only go so far when I'm waiting for tax returns to save my broke ass from finacial disaster. Good news is I've cleaned up my place and junked some stuff that has tagged along with me for the past five years but there's so much junk sometimes I forget what's a keeper and what deserves a good one-way dumpstering. Somewhere during the process I discombobulated my seldom-used paper shredder by throwing a defunct plastic ID card in there and now that has a date with Mr. Dumpster. I have a bag of old junk ready for burning as soon as the weather gets nice enough for a bonfire (don't worry it's just paper) and a bag of beat-up old work shirts perfect for oil rags. I sometimes wish I wore more than just black . . . | | Monday, February 13th, 2006 | | 11:00 am |
success draws a spotlight on MySpace's darker side . . .
A while back I heard about a murder connected to Myspace, and this morning I read this in an AP article: "In Middletown, Conn., police suspect that as many as seven teenage girls recently were fondled or had consensual sex with men they met on MySpace who turned out to be older than they claimed." Last week I got an message at Myspace that read: "My best girlfriend asked me to message you, weirddd i know but cool. this girl has been my best friend since ive been young says (your) profile reminds her of her first crush. she said she was shy or something to be the first one to initiate talk but she even posted a blog about ya . . .something might work out who knows. Here is her link . . . " Funny thing is I got a message like that a few weeks earlier. Uncle Fran says it's Cops trying to scope out sexual predators . . . do I look like a sexual predator? Current Music: (Brainwashed Radio) | | Monday, January 30th, 2006 | | 10:32 pm |
Roov or Grute? Rarebit, lumpy couch, or lack of THC?
I still can't decide, but after having a serial dream last night* I think I'm on the path out of whatever it is. Maybe it's 'cuz it's February now and the new year's getting into full swing, but whatever the case, I've had some fookin' awesome dreams lately, the sorta dreams that I once attributed to sleep dep and/or Morphine. Cataclysmic, apocalyptic dreams, laden with religious imagery and elements of high-gloss hollywood spy flicks complete with pornographic CGI and screenwriter-hacks biting on PK Dick (anyone see "The Island"? Never mind... it's actually not that bad.) I counted 10 dreams on Sunday morning after I'd crashed downstairs on my friend's futon. I haven't smoked (cloves) in weeks, and have all but sworn off the other stuff. Maybe it's the interest in music and art that's welling up inside of me (ha,ha!) lately? I've recently been sketching a bit as opposed to doodling glyphs and writing words incessantly. It's the first sketching I've done in five years, and yes, I'm ashamed of the fact that I don't use my God-given artistic skills, but when there are so damned many other talented people in the world and as about 90% of the comments I'd had about my 'art' in the past 12 years conformed to basic utterances like "it sucks", I'd basically given up . . . why bother? I went to school for art but fuggit . . . everyone sez my stuff sucks . . . mebbe they're right? I'm currently burping up the "spicy, not hot" buffet I had for lunch courtesy of Passage to India. I'm wondering if I ate enough to give me nightmares (fuckin' preserved lemon!) Also listening to the last William Orbit release (that I know of) "Pieces in a Modern Style". If you can handle glossy, oversynthesized, slowed-down Piano House . . . er, my memory is fuzzy - the last time I heard this was 5 years ago in between spins of Delerium, Cosmic Baby, and other tunes I felt complimented the airy acoustics of Carberry's in Davis Square (defunct.) The lesson? Yer mind plays tricks on you when you manage a coffee shop whilst on a caffeine drip. 'Pieces' is a good listen anyway. I'm currently drinking a beer and planning to mix some tunes for a friend. And yeah, I would've posted this at Myspace but that site is flakier than a Sara Lee easy bake crust. *the last dream of the night for what it's worth. I kept waking up to the six-a.m. winter gloaming only to fall asleep again a few minutes later to the exact same dream scenario. In it I was counting out cash drawers at my old job at the University. Sure it was a dream, but it's still irritating when you can't remember the amount in the starting till, even in yer dream! I mean, I've known that particular cashout/starting drawer procedure inside out, and you'd think that even in my dream I'd grasp it. After all, I had been through the same routine at the same job for years (I worked at the U for a non-continuous span of ten years) so you'd think I'd have the routine down pat, right? But . . . the dream was true to form, and as I awoke each time only to drift back to sleep, and the dream would have changed each time, but only enough to approximate the very same day-to-day occurences that would happen at said job over the years and at that time of day. I'm not anxious, but when you've worked a job like that for so long --and I recently had a chance to secure a position doing a VERY SIMILAR JOB at selfsame institution-- it makes ya wonder "is it worth going back to the same place for some decent money only to slip into the same routine again?" Etc. The thing is, with my working experience I'd be VERY LUCKY to find such a job (full health, dental, vacation, retirement etc) anywhere else in the outside/non-institutional world . . . and here I am considering overly both in my waking hours AND in my dreams. Good money and security along with a comfortable routine and benefits . . . that sort of thing goes a long way right? So why sweat it? I guess I keep halfway expecting something unique and awesome to come out of left field insofar as a job is concerned. Did anyone else catch the Freudian slip? |
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