LATENT

Aries

2009-04-13T14:27:00.018-06:00

Some figures from history and the arts who were born on April 13:

Thomas Jefferson, 1743

Butch Cassidy, 1866

Samuel Beckett, 1906

Eudora Welty, 1909

Lyle Waggoner, 1935

Peabo Bryson, 1951

Garry Kasparov, 1963

Ricky Schroder, 1970

Turns out the date has produced many noted figures of genius. And at least as many known for their schlock appeal.

Happy Birthday DJ Pegleg ... the perfect blend.

Vanity Not Sanity

2009-03-31T15:06:00.008-06:00

I'm not sure anyone exists here but me & anonymous these days ... but I'll post this for him or her and anyone else who may surface.

A riddle:

With thieves I consort,
With the vilest, in short,
I'm quite easy in depravity,
Yet all divines use me,
and savants can't lose me,
For I am the center of gravity.

What am I?

When I'm 74

2009-03-19T13:21:00.007-06:00

Did you see this? I swear I wouldn't recognize the man ... if it weren't for the swastika. The face is weary, the madness sheathed in sadness. He looks like someone who'd wander into the bar at 8am and order a PBR after spending the night at the shelter.

http://www.cnn.com/2009/CRIME/03/19/california.manson.photo/index.html

Christine

2009-03-11T15:00:00.010-06:00

I work with one very dynamic lady. We crank out the drinks at the bar for 300 or 400+ very thirsty dancers & prancers and oglers & watchers on any given Friday or Saturday night. Yeah, we're busy but there's plenty of time for small chat and the ever-necessary winks & rolling of the eyes. We bump into each other plenty. We laugh plenty. We definitely look forward to the shift drink. And we're plenty tired at the end of the night ... sometime around 2-ish.

I get a ride home, count my money and go to sleep beside my kitty, Iris. Christine goes home to her two young daughters. One of whom is albino.

She's recently sent me these links detailing the killings of people with albinism in Africa. It's become increasingly common. It seems they are seen as ominous symbols of misfortune. Through their massacre and dismemberment, one may receive lucky charms and, it is believed, much good fortune.

http://www.google.com/hostednews/afp/article/ALeqM5jwbj5fepp02szbmnxmz9nCr1NkNA
http://www.leaderpost.com/news/Albino+slaughtered+Burundi/1323777/story.html
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7906645.stm

Sign the petition to stop the killing in Tanzania here:
http://www.underthesamesun.com/home.php

Things That Are Better In Theory

2009-03-01T20:09:00.003-07:00

So I got to eat at the White Castle burger chain twice on my recent eight-day, seven-state road trip to Cincinnati, and while the experience was satisfying during the eating part, it didn't really hold up "long-term" if you get my drift. Plus, both White Castles were fucking filthy. How hard is it to clean up the joint?

One other thing: as I was exiting the White Castle in Cincinnati, I saw a plaque commemorating the chain's 80 years in the Queen City. Kinda hard to give it "regional" status when it's been someplace else for 80 effin' years. Hell, I just found out at wikipedia that it was founded in Kansas. Say, what?!?

Are you left or right brained?

2009-02-09T14:03:00.005-07:00

Just curious how we all stack up. The test is painless.

http://www.web-us.com/brain/braindominance.htm

My results:
You responded as a right-brained person to 3 questions, and you responded as a left-brained person to 15 questions. According to the Hemispheric Dominance test, you use your left brain the most.

Type of Cognitive Processing:

Linear: Processing information from part to whole; in a straight forward logical progression

Sequential: Processing information in order from first to last.

Symbolic: Processes symbols an pictures; likes to use letters, words and mathematical symbols.

Logical: Processes information piece by piece using logic to solve a problem.

Verbal: Processes thoughts and ideas with words.

Reality-Based: Processes information based on reality; focuses on rules and regulations.

R.I.P.

2009-02-05T14:46:00.005-07:00

Lux Interior doing what he loved.

Robbie Burns Day

2009-01-25T15:11:00.017-07:00

January 25th marks the day of his birth and a day of celebrating the Bard of Ayrshire and the Ploughman Poet in Scotland. To join in simply break out the scotch (the more the better), break out the poems and the songs (again the more the better ... don't worry the scotch will loosen you up) and enjoy some haggis.

Here's a recipe for the beloved Haggis of Scotland. In addition to the other naughty (read 'delectable') bits, the lungs are traditionally included in Scotland, but are omitted in the States as it's illegal to sell lungs in the U.S. Jerky is okay here. Celine Dion records are legal. But lungs are off limits. Some folks also think that liver shouldn't be used ... but, heck, if you're down with eating organs and innards what's the difference?

1 sheep's lung (illegal in the U.S.; may be omitted if not available)
1 sheep's stomach
1 sheep heart
1 sheep liver
1/2 lb fresh suet (kidney leaf fat is preferred)
3/4 cup oatmeal (the ground type, NOT the Quaker Oats type!)
3 onions, finely chopped
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1/2 teaspoon cayenne
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
3/4 cup stock

Wash lungs and stomach well, rub with salt and rinse. Remove membranes and excess fat. Soak in cold salted water for several hours. Turn stomach inside out for stuffing.

Cover heart and liver with cold water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer for 30 minutes. Chop heart and coarsely grate liver. Toast oatmeal in a skillet on top of the stove, stirring frequently, until golden. Combine all ingredients and mix well. Loosely pack mixture into stomach, about two-thirds full. Remember, oatmeal expands in cooking.

Press any air out of stomach and truss securely. Put into boiling water to cover. Simmer for 3 hours, uncovered, adding more water as needed to maintain water level. Prick stomach several times with a sharp needle when it begins to swell; this keeps the bag from bursting. Place on a hot platter, removing trussing strings. Serve with a spoon. Ceremoniously served with "neeps, tatties and nips" -- mashed turnips, mashed potatoes, nips of whiskey.

I suggest you'll need several rather large nips of whiskey.

About Face / Smackdown, Bitch

2009-01-21T14:54:00.004-07:00

We tivo'd the Inauguration since my son was going to be at school and we didn't get to watch it until later in the evening, right after some delicious bangers and mash. Anyway, I got to watch some pre-pre-pre event stuff while Emiliano was getting ready for school on NBC, and while it was as stupid and vacuous as one would expect (what was up with the balding White dude apologizing left and right--mostly right--for W all about, anyway?) it was still cool seeing that many people that geeked about politics. However, I spent most of my very limited time trying to control my gag reflex everytime some talking head would mewl on and on about "a new day" for race. In my most cynical way, I couldn't help but running my factoid loop about the incredibly high increase in gun sales right after a Black man got elected to the presidency. New day my ass.

And sure, I kept snorting derisively every time somebody (everybody) mentioned MLK, but I have to admit I almost started bawling when Aretha took the stage and started singing and the true ramifications of what this election/day meant for me--a person of color--sank in. Of course, it didn't stop me from clowning the rainbow coalition orchestral piece (Jew...check. Black...check. Asian...check. Latino(or some other swarthy group)...check) that was doing a piece by one of the worst composers known to man. Weak!

Anyways, I wasn't surprised when the President thanked the ass for his service to his country, but I was pretty impressed when he continued on to rake that fucker over the coals. It wasn't nearly on the level of the Colbert/Bush smackdown at the press corp dinner, but it wasn't far from it. To be honest, I felt the acceptance speech was far more powerful (and forthright) but this wasn't too shabby. And, I have no doubt that the guy has the smarts to get the right people into the right jobs working towards the right solutions to the right problems.

So, maybe it's a new day after all.

Drunks On Film

2009-01-15T14:57:00.007-07:00

I hadn't viewed this film in years until yesterday. The opening is truly something. Peter Sellers is a hoot and a mess and a wonder. A marvelous train wreck.

Unfortunately much of the rest of the film doesn't quite measure up to the opening.

Lolita (1962): The first 10 minutes of the movie
Humbert Humbert, a divorced British professor of French literature, travels to small-town America for a teaching position. He llows himself to be swept into a relationship with Charlotte Haze, his widowed and sexually famished landlady, whom he marries in order that he might pursue the woman's 14-year-old flirtatious daughter, Lolita, with whom he has fallen hopelessly in love, but whose affections shall be thwarted by a devious trickster named Clare Quilty.

Becoming Nauseated

2009-01-14T16:34:00.002-07:00

Because DJ Pegleg felt it important to preface his post on Ms. Scarlett Johansson (in his Way #1489 That I'm Different Than Most Other Guys) by stating he's not into blondes, I suppose I must mention that I'm not into chicks (in that way ... blondes, brunettes, whatever. I like men.). And I'm also not into bashing other women. Indeed, I don't understand why women must pick each other apart. Why do so many of our fairer sex take such joy in pointing out even the most minor of flaws in other females?

Have you seen that tight dress Betty is wearing? She's showing off everything she owns and it sure as hell ain't pretty! She looks like the last rose of summer. And I swear that's a hickey on her neck or she's got herself another rash ... if you know what I mean ... giggle, giggle. She must have gained ten pounds since breakfast! tee, hee.

I'm not into that. But I must admit to suffering from the burgeoning popularity of Ms. Anne Hathaway. I mean seriously suffering.

Frankly, it isn't her performance per se, necessarily, that I find displeasing ... but perhaps something terribly superficial or even more hidden, deeper, the ubiquitous je ne sais quoi (like her gigantic mouth or what might be the kicker & the thing that bugs me most of all: her abnormally structured face). Can't really put my finger on my problem with Anne Hathaway.

I've recently seen her in Becoming Jane and actually found the film charming. But I'm thinking that was due to James McAvoy.

detail

2009-01-05T13:43:00.001-07:00

Wish List

2008-12-21T15:52:00.004-07:00

Breaking News

2008-12-17T13:47:00.002-07:00

New, free Flight Of The Conchords season two premier. Why wait until aught-nine.

http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/c48f423bdf/season-2-online-premiere-flight-of-the-conchords-from-flight-of-the-conchords

enjoy.

The King Is Dead, Long Live The King

2008-12-17T08:59:00.003-07:00

Many moons ago, when the Trouble & Strife and I overpaid for our first house (before we were married, btw...yes, yes, I know, but living in sin was all the rage in the late 90s) we lived a life unencumbered by children or pets. Well, that's not entirely true. We did have a couple of step-cats but for me they didn't count. Anyway, one day this white cat showed up at the crib. Whenever I'd go outside to smoke, he'd come around looking for a little love. I warned Ro not to feed him to no avail, because sure enough she ignored my advice and soon he was there all the time. Which, of course meant that I had to name him, which, of course, meant that we had to keep him. He was mangy and crossed-eyed and quite simply the best cat I'd ever known.

I'd named him Eugene (after Eugene Levy's crossed-eyed character in the then current film Waiting For Guffman), but he came to be known by many names: Gene, Genie, Jean-Genie, Genie-Weenie-Beenie, the Weens, the Beans, etc. Well, a few weeks ago Gene was diagnosed with a cancerous tumor in his mouth and we had to put him down. Rosemary and Emiliano are still not over it and are prone to breaking down in tears whenever something about the Weens comes up.

I started thinking it might be an awesome Xmas present to get a kitten for Rosemary. After mulling it over for a while, I broached the subject with the Wifey-Wife and also mentioned that it might make Prisicilla's life a living hell.* She concurred so I shelved the idea. Well, this Saturday, my son mentioned to me--entirely out of the blue and without context--that he thought we should get Mama a kitten for Xmas. One person coming up with a good idea is rare enough, but for two to come up with same idea, well, I took it as a sign and a Xmas miracle and I couldn't ignore it.

So, around 11, we headed to the pound (which ended up being a sniffling, cry fest for the super softies in the family, which means I should never bring the rest of the family with me) where Emiliano did not get the all white cat he wanted , nor did we get the grey/purple beauty that I had my eye on, but instead the family (Mama) settled on a mangy, skinny, ugly stray orange boy tabby, who had a name written on his pound paper work, that will serve as his secret name and/or slave name. Without further ado, let us welcome to our home its latest addition:

Mr. Omar (Omar, Mo, Tony Manero, Team Omar). He will get home tonight some time after his surgeries and microchip plantings. He's five months old and we all are very excited to have him.

*About six years ago, our then 12 year old longhair crank-a-puss and I came to an understand and have since become fast friends. Seeing as how Priscilla is now 18, I'm thinking she's not gonna be too happy with a five month old running around. But, she'll get over it.

Brief Interlude

2008-12-16T17:50:00.001-07:00

Before my next post...coming shortly:

I can't believe nobody had nuthin' to say about "Konichiwa Bitches" or "Jizz In My Pants." Not even a slight mention of the J.T. cameo in the SNL Digital Short. As far as Robyn is concerned, well I fell in love with the song pre video discovery, so I had to figure out the lyrics on my own, and it made me (still makes me) laugh when I got hip to the lines "One left, one right / That's how I organize them. / You know I fill my cups / No need to super-size them."

Konichiwa In My Pants

2008-12-10T15:47:00.001-07:00

Sign Broke

2008-12-01T15:10:00.003-07:00

And my favorite find of the week online ... from www.asylum.com
Photographs of bizarre signs spotted at churches across the country.

http://www.asylum.com/2008/11/25/bizarre-church-signs-read-the-writing-on-the-wall/

Top 10 Sleevefaces of November

2008-11-23T12:15:00.009-07:00

So far, at least, and in no particular order. You can find these and more like them at sleeveface.com, which is a fine place to waste some time.

Bacon, Eggs and Onions

2008-11-18T15:29:00.004-07:00

I can sizzle like bacon.
I am made with an egg.
I have plenty of backbone, but lack a good leg.
I peel layers like onions, but still remain whole.
I can be long, like a flagpole, yet fit in a hole.

What am I?

rain dog

2008-11-10T09:09:00.001-07:00

Don't. Don't. Don't Believe The Hype.

2008-11-05T14:54:00.010-07:00

It was quite a moving speech last night from President-Elect Barack Obama. Truly my "JFK" political moment. The speech validated my decision to keep my eight year old up late, so that one day he can say that he witnessed this most monumental of occasions. Don't get me wrong, he won't remember a word, but he got to see his parents well-up with emotion. He got to experience the complete refutation of the mistakes and greed and fear-mongering of the previous administration and all of its supporters. And while it does nothing to erase all the ugliness of the previous eight years, it must surely be considered the start of the healing.

Mad props to Senator McCain for his also moving concession speech, which, despite the boos and heckling from the crowd, was gracious and classy. There was also no way it was prepared that night. It may be true that McCain saw the writing on the wall a long time ago. I think it's telling that there were many at the McCain rally waving red flags and all that I saw at the Obama rally were American flags. Regardless, it was easy to see the man that Jon Stewart said he would have voted for in 2000 over Gore had he been the Republican nominee, instead of the bitter shadow-of-his-former-self 2008 nominee that McCain had become under the watchful eye of Mordor, um, I mean Cheney.

Another thing that Jon Stewart had said on his show last week, was that if Senator Obama were elected President Of The United States, it would finally be the first "show, not tell" moment in our country's history, that is, that one who was not a middle-aged (or old) white guy (or destined to grow up to be one) would finally be able to believe it when it was said that "you could be President one day." While I believe that to be true, I would like to take the present time to remind you all to keep your critical faculties operating when faced with the central conceit of last nights' awesomeness, as represented by the following:

OBAMA ELECTED PRESIDENT AS RACIAL BARRIER FALLS

Which was the headline on the front page of the New York Times political section at their website. And also, total bullshit. Racial acrimony in this country is not limited to two races, but I think it is safe to say that in our social consciousness, as Americans, things have always boiled down to the oppressed (People of Color) and the oppressor (Whitey.) I think it is also safe to say, that despite their increasing status as a minority Minority, African-Americans have become shorthand for all Minorities, especially in the press. So, when everybody (and by everybody I mean all media outlets, the girls at the bar, your barber) try to tell you that the election of Barrack Obama is proof that race is no longer a factor in this country, or that we as Americans, ie., White people, have overcome "our" prejudices, realize that it's a lie.

Make no mistake, last night was historic, and it was historic because of the racial implications of the election, but not for the reasons you think: The majority of Whites in this country DID NOT vote for Barrack Obama. If you followed the election results live last night, there was no mistaking the continued reddening of the Southern States, but it wasn't just the Crackers. The majority of White Men voted for McCain. The majority of White Women voted for McCain. Educated Whites voted for McCain 51% of the time and for Obama, 47%, and ignorant Whites (or Whites - No College) voted for McCain 58% of the time and for Obama 40% of the time. The election results were not the final nail in the coffin of that fetid corpse of bigotry, in fact, it was simply business as usual in these United States Of America, prejudice wise, at least. Well, there was one group of Whites that voted for Obama (54-44) and that was those Whites ages 18-29, so perhaps things are changing for the better.

No, the real history-in-the-making can be summed up with just one set of numbers from the CNN exit poll quoted above: All Others (Non-Whites) 80% for Obama, 18% for McCain. You read that right: Senator Obama was elected last night by the Minorities of this country, or at the very least a coalition of African-Americans, Asians, Latinos, Others and Whites. Yes sir, that is the sound of change you hear ringing. No longer will elections in this country be decided by the White majority. No longer will an atmosphere of accepted racism that allows for serious discussion of "The Bradley Effect" be the norm. No longer will "...the best of America [be] in these small towns ... in these wonderful little pockets of ...real America..." It's a new day my friends, one that I'm excited to be a part of, and one that was provided by all people of all colors in this great Nation of ours.

While I believe that President-Elect Obama will invariably disappoint the most liberal of his backers with a centrist and more conservative presidency than was expected of him, I also believe that he is the right man for the job and the right man to lead us into the future. So, to everyone who voted for him, regardless of race, I only have one thing to say: Thank you very much.

The Rorschach Result

2008-11-05T13:14:00.015-07:00

Pretty, isn't it? An elegant bird in flight. Or three mysterious participants in a masquerade ball. I see their glasses filled with absinthe and an orgy in their future. Perhaps it's an image of the human brain ... an artist's or a seizure sufferer's. The electric impulses are playing hop scotch. Maybe it's one of Carmen Miranda's glorious head dresses from the era of exotic glamour. She's taken it off after a rather smokey number and a few feathers hang loose. She needs a cocktail and rests her feet.

Or could it be the winner in the Wednesday tattoo contest? She has a big birthday coming up (egad!) and has toyed with the idea of getting one to mark (tee, hee) the occasion. Jeez ... not a bad idea.

I actually believe it is all of these things. Everything.

To break it all down, the election results, the voting state by state I found the site that turned politics, standing in line and feeding a ballot into a machine into abstract art. It is brilliantly done.

http://www-personal.umich.edu/~mejn/election/2008/

Line Of One

2008-11-04T11:17:00.003-07:00

As you can tell from the picture above, my experience isn't indicative of everybody else's across this grand country of ours, but I pulled up to my voting location, got me and my son and the DS and my book out of the car, walked into the building and saw a line of none. Let me reiterate: I walked in, signed, voted, fed my vote into the machine and left. And I got to maintain tradition.

Now I get to resume the tradition of watching television all day and night and yelling at the morons on the box. I predicted a landslide for the last few months, but I'm extremely nervous today.

PS. Did you know that 98% of all eligible voters in the state of Michigan are registered? That's just friggin' amazing.

Sinking Ship

2008-11-03T10:32:00.002-07:00

Yo! Yes it's been a long time, but that's okay since we've had the Hand Model, Wednesday and Shalulah to pick up the slack. Anyways, the other day I got to see Steven Colbert lay down a beating on the Right that was in the same ballpark as his smackdown of President Bush (the single most brilliant political commentary of my lifetime), so for all my peeps without cable, and to be honest it's an amazingly large number of peeps, here ya go:

And I've been cruising this site for quite some time, mostly to keep Rosemary from jumping off the ledge in fear and panic:

538

If you aren't familiar you should go check it out yourself. Especially the Road To 270 series.

I Got My Sticker

2008-10-28T15:45:00.011-06:00

Early voting is a godsend.

Two blocks over to City Hall. One flight up and down the hall. One minute in line behind two other women. Three minutes in the voting booth. Done.

I voted today and it took 5 minutes max.

There's no telling what it'll look like at my polling place next Tuesday. Lines, madness, mayhem.

If you haven't filled out an absentee ballot yet then you must be among the undecided (who are these people?). Or just plain lazy. Get off your ass and put down that remote and vote already.

Okay, I admit I've only gone the absentee route once before. I'd just moved apartments and wasn't re-registered. I voted at City Hall moments after registering. It was my only option. George H. W. Bush was up for re-election. Opposing him was Bill Clinton and Ralph Nader. This was serious.

Every other year since the age of 18 I've hauled my heinie down to the polls and voted on that ominous Tuesday in November. And I expect lines and waiting. Hell, I hope for it. The ridiculously low voter turn out year after year after year in this country is shameful.

But, well, I just wanted to get it over with this year. I knew how I was voting on every issue and every candidate and that wasn't changing.

I feel good ... about the act of voting and about my vote. Yes, I got my sticker ... I took two actually.

And another absentee ballot voting story I discovered ... well, it just warmed my little heart:

http://www.motherjones.com/mojoblog/archives/2008/10/10462_magical_early_voting_story.html

through the viewfinder...

2008-10-20T21:34:00.003-06:00

...of an old kodak duaflex.
autumn sunflower.

The New Economy

2008-10-07T09:22:00.004-06:00

Or, What One Hundred And Fifty Bucks Will Get You At The Albuquerque Record Show:

Okay, so first off, I have to admit that I was one of the first ten people in line for the show. I'm not sure how that happened, exactly, but you can rest assured that I was feeling the shame of a scarlet "L" on my forehead. Regardless, I went the wrong way into the show, since I ended up hearing that I missed a rather large collection of reggae records on the other side of where I started. I did, however pull a copy of Public Enemy's Nations Of Millions for five bucks as my very first record of the show, so I didn't do all that bad. Can I say that it is a hella lotta work to go through that many records? Anyways, I ended up dropping a C and a half (including a preview of a seller's wares at his home a couple of days before the show), so without further ado--the stash:

Chisel - Set You Free
The Stairs - Mexican R&B
Leatherface - Dog Disco
James White & The Contortions - Second Chance
Keith Levene - Back Too Black ep
Martha & The Muffins - Metro Music
Wailers - Burnin'
Concretes - s/t
Jerry Lee Lewis - The "Killer" Rocks On
Ventures - Golden Greats
Laura Nyro and Labelle - Gonna Take A Miracle
Jimmy Yancey & Cripple Clarence Lofton - Pioneers Of Boogie Woogie
Talking Heads - Fear Of Music
John Hiatt - Slow Turning
Plimsouls - Zero Hour ep
Public Enemy - It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back
Black Sabbath - Paranoid
Black Sabbath - Vol. 4
Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark - Dazzle Ships
Run DMC - It's Tricky 12"
Various - Nuggets Vol. 4
Oingo Boingo - Only A Lad
Various - Girl Groups: The Story Of A Sound
Husker Du - Candy Apple Grey
J Geils Band - Live
Them - The Story Of Them
Talking Heads - Remain In Light
Soft Cell - Tainted Love 12"
Third World - Reggae Greats

Plus I got my brother a copy of Bob Marley's Exodus, the Clash's London Calling and the Wailer's Burnin'. Cuz he's a beginner and too lazy to get his ass to the show.

Overall I thought it was a pretty good haul. Anytime you go to an event where "collectors" gather, and you come out of there a) withouth dropping a bundle and b) spend around five dollars per item, you've done right by yourself. Well, only six more months to the April record show, which as many of you know, is just in time for my birthday. Hellz yeah!

Feeling The Sulks

2008-10-02T14:55:00.006-06:00

I've had a lousy week.

One week ago today one of our regulars committed suicide. Eric was an unemployed brick mason who took to drinking in a big way. His staple was vodka. It might be mixed with soda water and a splash of cran or with basic tomato juice ... no horseradish, or tabasco or worchester, no pepper or celery. But add a lemon and a lime and he'd light up. When feeling more adventurous on a hot summer day he might go for a tanqueray and tonic. Such a simple soul.

The bar I work in opens at 8am (9am on Sunday) and if Eric wasn't there by 8:05 it was highly unusual. And he'd stay for the duration, finally heading home in the late afternoon or early evening. An alcoholic. But one of the funniest and smartest gentleman I've ever known. And he held his drink like a stiff-necked ox. He and I would battle it out over "Cash Cab", shouting out answers as fast as we could. I usually won only because I was louder and, well, sober. But he was a force to be reckoned with even after numerous adult beverages. And he was a storyteller. Tales from the work sites slinging brick and mortar, to the deaths of his parents in a car crash when he was still a baby, to his days strung out on heroin and his wife who never kicked (he got custody of their children), to his time living in a shack on Mount Desert Island, to following the Dead from state to state, to whatever he was reading at the moment or new recipe he'd tried. Didn't matter what it was. You listened.

You really can't help but get attached to some of the regulars at a place like the bar I work in ... I refer to it as The Sulky. Everyone is a character. And, by "regulars" I'm talking about the day drinkers and not the hipsters and college kids I serve on weekend nights. Regulars don't order jager bombs or kamikazis. They drink budweisers, PBRs, sombreros and booze from the well, served stiff. Most of these regulars are fairly rough around the edges. Some are homeless or on disability. I know some drug addicts and a couple of prostitutes. Some of these folk I don't care for too much ... I just roll my eyes when I see them coming ... they're crass and they never tip. Maybe they smell or let their boyfriends beat them up on a regular basis. Maybe they refer to the increasing population of Somalian immigrants here in derogatory and racist terms. Whatever. Most are just ordinary spirits with everyday lives. But they all have stories to tell. And tell, they do.

Yesterday one of the originals came in. She's pushing 80, a white-haired sweetheart. And just in time to reinvigorate a lately morose bar wench. Val's order is usually the same. And is sung like a cherub with a high lilt, "Black Velvet and water ... but not too much water, dear". Like I don't know that already. Every now and then she opts for a shot of the Dr. But not yesterday.

After a few sips, Val leans forward to me and whispers, "Can I ask you something, dear, it's kind of personal ..." Oh no. I hate that sentence. Turns out she wants to know if I smoke pot. I say not really, it's been a couple of years since I've even had one hit off a joint. And I'm a one-hit wonder. No more is necessary, two at the most. Val says her son and daughter-in-law smoke it and she is interested in trying it out. She's nearly 80, after all, and hasn't tried that yet. No time to waste.

I had to laugh.

I am far from an expert but gave her some pointers on inhaling and holding and waiting ... Val is often emotional on cheap whiskey alone. Giggling can turn to tears in seconds. I can't imagine adding another intoxicant to the mix.

God. Sometimes I hate my job like anyone else. And I know my mother doesn't get why I work in what she calls a "bar room". But where else could I experience these insights to another side of life? Most people turn their noses up at these alcoholics. They are drunks and low-lifes milking the system. But where else could I become the confidant of a 79-year-old first time pot smoker? And where else could I have met Eric?

Yeah, these people are worth it. I needed to remember that.

Miss Congeniality Pt. II

2008-09-23T12:53:00.002-06:00

I've been meaning to post this for a while, and it'll work hand-in-hand with Wednesday's previous post. Stolen blatantly from Slate or Salon or some other cool-as-fuck "news" site beginning with the letter "S".

Miss Congeniality

2008-09-22T14:19:00.002-06:00

Lately, I've read a lot of commentaries, op-eds and bloggers on Sarah Palin. Many of them love the self-described "hockey mom" (I wonder how many campaign staffers it took to come up with that clever moniker) and nearly as many hate her. I hate nearly everything she stands for and supports. But what I hate most is the idea, the misguided notion that women, especially we women who haven't aligned with any party and vote independent, will vote for her simply because she has two X chromosomes. We'll see her as one of us. We're stupid enough to feel a kinship for a strong person who also happens to have breasts, a vagina and a bunch of kids. Isn't this what McCain has been banking on? Women stick together, after all. Really? Do they?

And the concept that pro-Hillary Clinton voters (again we're talking about the women), still angry at her loss, will choose McCain and his female running mate over Obama just doesn't fly. Maybe a few of those in anger management classes right now will switch sides. But most won't. They aren't that stupid.

So if McCain doesn't actually believe that women are politically gullible and uninterested and don't follow the issues and will pull the lever for him in 44 days (holy crap!) simply because he has a female running mate then why did he pick her? Because she shares similar political views and he truly does imagine she's the right person for the job? Because she's a woman and a heck of a lot younger ... the opposite of him? Because she is shorter than him and practically un-heard of by anyone outside of Alaska until lately? Because he wants voters to remember that he's a maverick and is the candidate for change? I'm still trying to figure out what he was thinking.

Maybe we already know a lot about Sarah Palin ... she's a life-time member of the NRA, anti-abortion, pro-death penalty and a former beauty queen. I'd call that my absolute worst nightmare. It takes me right back to dorm life and a certain college roommate. I believe Palin was actually chosen Miss Congeniality in the pageant ... she's pleasant and friendly. Isn't that nice?

I wonder what Vladimir Putin thinks of this potential new guest at the Kremlin?

One of the sites I encountered in researching Sarah Palin laid it pretty bare. Not only is she anti-reproductive freedom but stridently pro-hunting, off-shore drilling, anti-environment and against protecting endangered species. We may have heard most of this before with all of the media coverage of late ... but something about seeing it all lined up in an ordered column fairly turned my stomach. http://www.grizzlybay.org/SarahPalinInfoPage.htm

Palin's record on the environment is abysmal and her support of the barbaric treatment of animals is down-right vicious.

She scares the hell out of me.

bug

2008-09-16T15:23:00.003-06:00

Arm Candy

2008-09-10T14:23:00.003-06:00

There's no way around it. You get what you pay for. If you need a new roof on your house or some essential electrical work done you'd better suck it up and get the pros who know what they're doing. I suppose the same goes if you're getting a tattoo or some plastic surgery. Don't have the work done by some dude at the mall who smells of beer. Especially if it's a nose job.

I do not believe this same caveat always applies to hair-cuts or to fashion accessories. Nothing wrong with Supercuts if you put your glasses back on at key moments ... and those old-lady bags for 50 cents at flea markets are hot and let the hipper and younger than you know you're willing to take a risk. Flaunt it.

Yes, this is a frivolous post. No politics or religion or angst over X vs. The Clash. No debate over the exact release date of The Modern Lovers lp. I'm talking about bags. To some, this is serious and involves both politics and religion.

Bags. Purses. Clutches. Totes. I simply don't get it. Why all the hoopla? Sure, I like a cute bag that fits all my stuff in it. Right now (I'm checking ...) that includes my wallet, address book/note pad, three pens, my pepper spray, lip stick, an emergency chap stick, a couple of band aids, two fire balls, and the crossword. Tomorrow on my way to work I'll also add a book and a protein bar. And I suppose, if truth be told, I have at least seven or eight bags that might be dragged out depending on the occasion, my mood, or its size. Sometimes I need to also carry my camera, an extra lip stick and/or other make-up product and a pack of gum. Maybe even an extra fire ball.

Have I been sleeping or is this fixation with carrying around an expensive bag when you can hardly pay for cab fare a new thing? I work with a woman who recently showed off her Juicy Couture bag which she got for a steal (she felt), under $300. Same co-worker has no health insurance and often asks to work doubles because she's broke. I wonder why. The bag was a monstrosity.

Did Carrie Bradshaw have something to do with it? I'm constantly hearing about those bags and seeing them clasped in the paws of the-next-great Audrey Hepburn comer on red carpets. Can't we all just admit they are god-awful ugly? Do we feel good because we're toting a super expensive bag that looks like a pile of shit? I'm talking about Louis Vuitton.

The LV Monogram Speedy 3o basic (or as their web site calls it " The Essential") goes for $700, while the "chic" Multicolor will cost you $2,240.00. The Sohali Le Radieux with "ultra haute" shearling around the edges (seen above) will set you back $3,230.00. That's 5 months of rent for me and if I'm shelling out that much for a monogrammed bag I'd really expect it'd have my initials on it. And they ain't LV.

green workers

2008-09-09T16:58:00.001-06:00

international celebrity

2008-08-31T01:22:00.001-06:00

Hillary & What Kind Of Liberal I Am

2008-08-27T09:39:00.007-06:00

Man, that was some speech last night at the DNC. Normally, I would have missed it entirely, since, y'know, I tend to try and avoid that crap. But, randomlly flipping to NBC (who knew the DNC was on the Peacock?) I came early to Hillary Clinton's speech. At first I watched simply as a character study of Ms. Clinton, but as the speech went on, I was truly moved. Her repeated references to herself and her campaign carrying even more weight when she pulled it back over to Obama. When she challenged her still aggrieved supporters to answer the simple question: Was it the issues, or was it me? Was it the problems facing this country or was it a cult of personality? And then she exhorted the floor to stand with her and give their unconditional support to the Democratic Nominee for the Presidency. Classy and awesome.

Bonus points for the cut-away to Bill Clinton looking an awful lot like Phil Hartman doing a very sad Bill Clinton when Hillary was talking about a medical care-less woman with cancer and two autistic children. Wish I could find a clip of that. Oh, wait, I live in the 21st Century, with all media at my fingertips, so here's the youtube vidjah (fastforward to ~ 8:50)

Maybe her supporters can find some closure, let if fucking go and just stop all the madness. They backed the losing horse and now it's time to turn their attention to the bigger problem at hand. While I'm a registered independent, who hates both parties (just one a whole lot more than the other) and who prefers not to vote simply along party lines. I said it before when my peeps would ask me whom I preferred-- Clinton or Obama--and I'll say it again today: If the Democrats nominated an open can of Pepsi and a head of cabbage for the Presidency, I'd vote for it over whomever the Republicans threw up.

Anyway, while perusing my friend's blog I saw this little intraweb doohicky on the side column, so I thought I'd go ahead and take the quiz and find out what kind of liberal I was. The quiz itself is somewhat short and not-too-thought provoking, but I thought it pegged me pretty good. So, without further ado, here's what kind of liberal I is:

My Liberal Identity:

You are a Working Class Warrior, also known as a blue-collar Democrat. You believe that the little guy is getting screwed by conservative greed-mongers and corporate criminals, and you’re not going to take it anymore.

Take the quiz at www.FightConservatives.com

My First Decade Pt. 2 [1973-1977]

2008-08-19T15:51:00.012-06:00

Here we find ourselves trapped. Stuck in a place where you can still almost smell the last vestiges of the 60s. Stuck in a place where if you squint hard enough you can see the musical revolution to come. Stuck between stoned self-importance and twitchy nihilism. Stuck with some amazing music. Even though the mantra during the end of the 70s and on into the 80s was that the "70s Suck!" the truth was that the 70s were the most fertile, mind-blowing, ass-kicking period in music since after the Big One, and every one of the albums below is no small reason why.

A recap:
You have to pick one album for every year that you've been alive using the following rules:

No more than one appearance for any artist.
No compilation albums would be included.
It has to be the best album of the year.

1973: Innervisions - Stevie Wonder

There's a pretty funny scene in High Fidelity (a film I loved the first time I saw it, but have since come to despise more each time I see it again) where some guy comes into a coolio record store looking for a copy of Stevie Wonder's "I Just Called To Say I Love You" for his daughter. Actually, it'll save a lot of time if you just go to the end of this post and watch the youtube vidja. So, yeah, between the Eddie Murphy caricature and the massively crappy music he's been releasing for over thirty years, it's easy to forget that Stevie Wonder was fuckin' genius, man. At least from '72 thru '76. This is the best of that run. There's only one questionable track on the album (and no, it's not the one the Red Hot's covered and forever tainted) and it's the album ender, so you can just ignore that shit. If you haven't listened to this album in a while, you are doing yourself a disservice.

RUNNERS-UP Todos Os Olhos - Tom Ze, Pronounced Leh-Nerd Skin-Nerd - Lynyrd Skynyrd.

1974: Radio City - Big Star

To continue with the "middle" metaphor, Radio City is a middle-ground between the raw Anglophilia power pop of Big Star's debut and the wounded bitter excess of their third, and final album 3rd/Sister Lovers. Big Star was a union between Memphis boys Chris Bell and Alex Chilton that disintegrated when their first album tanked. With Chris Bell out of the picture (although rumors abound that some of the best songs found on this album were actually written by Bell) Alex Chilton made one more stab at commercial success. The album's weirdness doomed that from the get. Fuck the money. Sometimes shit's just too good for the People. An oasis in the desert that was the year in music circa 1974, too bad nobody heard it.

RUNNERS-UP Here Comes The Warm Jets - Brian Eno, Inspiration Information - Shuggie Otis.

1975: Blood On The Tracks - Bob Dylan

When my punk rock snottiness had run its course, and I was finally ready to listen to Bob Dylan, this was the album my Dylan-ite friend gave me to turn me on to the man. I listened to this album every night before falling asleep for a week straight. By the end of that week I was sold. While there are other Dylan albums that I truly love, this is still the one for me. Hell, "Buckets Of Rain" was our wedding song. Big ups!

RUNNERS-UP Horses - Patti Smith, Estudando Do Samba - Tom Ze.

1976: High Voltage - AC/DC

The US version of High Voltage is actually a culling of the best songs from the band's first two albums--Australian releases TNT and High Voltage (Aus). It is a great record. You would think that there would be a high probability that any album that makes my "best of the year" would approach greatness. That it would be understood, or that it would go without saying, that the album was of a high quality. You'd be right, but there are a lot of people who give this band absolutely no respect. I'm talking zero. I really don't get it. If I had just one album to use to define what Rock 'N' Roll is, this would probably be it. Sometimes I have no choice but to sigh and shake my head. Anyway, five completely useless reasons why AC/DC rules:

The band's name is pronounced Akay-Dakay Down Under.
Angus Young's school-boy look. Still rocks even though the dude is like 60.
"Whole Lotta Rosie." The best roadtrip song ever.
The cover of Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap.
Their unabashed use of juvenile and sophomoric sexual metaphors.

RUNNERS-UP Modern Lovers - Modern Lovers, Jailbreak - Thin Lizzy.

1977: Exodus - Bob Marley & The Wailers

Yeah, you probably have an aversion to Marley thanks to all the trustifarians out there. Or, maybe you just sick of looking at his mug on the t-shirts of stiff, rhythmically challenged yuppies. Or, maybe, you are just sick of being told how good the guy was. I feel you. And, while my introduction to the greatness of reggae was delayed many years for all of the reasons above, I still had mad love for Bob Marley. I still have mad love for Marley. He's brilliant and a once-in-a-generation type artist. He deserves every accolade thrown his way. Oh, yeah, before I forget: Exodus is his best album. There's not a weak track on this stunner. Hell man, this album is so effin' good that it beat out the Clash's debut, the Talking Head's debut, Elvis Costello's debut and my favorite Ramones album. 'Nuff Said.

RUNNERS-UP Rocket To Russia - Ramones, The Clash (UK) - Clash.

Damn, I almost forgot the High Fidelity clip:

Ah, hell, I can't embed it. I can, however link to it, so here you go:

High Fidelity - Stevie Wonder

enjoy.

The Most Beautiful U.S. Olympic Athlete (And Other Things)

2008-08-16T15:18:00.004-06:00

So, yeah, that was me hassling Directv because I couldn't find their proposed Olympic Soccer channel, and yeah, that was me up at 7:00 am on Saturday the 9th of August watching the Women's 10meter Olympic Air Rifle competition. And, as much as it pains me to admit it, yes yes yes, that was me screaming at the top of my lungs "SUCK IT FROGS!" when the US Men's 100x4 Freestyle Relay team came back to out-touch the French for the gold, after said European's had mouthed-off about coming to Beijing to smash the US.

Lord I don't know where it comes from. Don't get me wrong, I love my country, but I am probably the least jingoistic person (who doesn't actually wish to be something other than American) that I know--except when the Olympics are on, and then I turn into Archie Bunker. Well, I guess it's just yet another peccadillo of mine for all the ladies to fawn over in my Teen Beat spread coming out next week.

Speaking of Teen Beat spreads, man, that Ryan Lochte is a stunner. I'm talking straight-up gorgeousness. Phelps may be the World's Greatest Swimmer, but he's a goofy looking fool. Mr. Lochte is extremely talented and sizzling. Easily our best looking athlete in Beijing. Special shout-out to Misty May-Treanor's delicious backside. While gearing up for this post, I tried to find a current shot, but have so far come up empty handed. Ah well, instead, I'll post a link to the following blog.

And, finally, let me give all praise to my personal lord and savior; TIVO. Or, rather, DVR. It's allowed me to tape OVER 24 hours of Olympic coverage every day, which means I get to watch badminton and ping pong and archery and fencing. We've been skipping most of the baseball/softball and all of the boxing, so we've been able to get through a lot. Track and Field started last night, so we're in the home stretch.

U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!

drunk driving

2008-08-12T22:33:00.002-06:00

My First Decade Pt. 1 [1968-1972]

2008-08-03T20:48:00.022-06:00

Many things conspired to prompt me into doing this here post: the fact that I turned 40, which nicely breaks down into 4 easily digestible pieces, the fact that Super-Extra over there on the right posted his own list, the fact that I'm an easily diverted obsessive-compulsive and the fact that I'm a flat-out, no-holds-barred music geek.

So, here's the deal: You have to pick one album for every year that you've been alive. That's it. How you wish to choose the album is entirely up to you. Basically, Super-Extra got this idea from someone who got the idea from someone else. Being all of the things I mentioned above, I thought it would make a great idea for a post and I used the following rules:

No more than one appearance for any artist.
No compilation albums would be included.
It has to be the best album of the year.

Then I decided one album was cool and all, but I should really take it up a notch and select the ten best albums of each and every year I've been alive. I'll start posting about that at the Music Club site in the coming days. But, let us remain focused and carry on with my first decade of life. Well, actually, let me be easily diverted first: Mr. Super-Extra had this to say about his digging through the musical past of his life:

The boon years for music in my lifetime definitely occurred during the late '80s and early to mid-'90s [...] The late '70s and early '80s had much sparser offerings (especially in 1977, 1980, and 1981, which were easily the weakest individual years overall), but made up for the lack of quantity in quality and influence.

Now, there was some great music in the 80s and 90s, and it's nice that S-E gave props to the influence of the late 70s and early 80s musically, but I must strenuously disagree with the sentiment that there was a dearth of quality music during that time. In fact, I can't even begin to imagine saying anything but the opposite. As hard as it was to narrow it down to 10 albums per year for every year during the first decade of my existence, it didn't *really* get difficult until 1977, and 1978 was even worse. I haven't progressed beyond that yet, but when I do, I know the next few years will be very challenging indeed. Alright, on to the list:

1968: Astral Weeks - Van Morrison

This might just be my favorite album of all time. It is so beautiful and painful and just, I don't know, devastating, that I can guarantee that it would be on a very, very, short lists of albums I'd take with me to that proverbial desert island. As a plus, it also helps affirm my "don't confuse the artist with the art" mantra, as Van was a major asshole. RUNNERS-UP Odessey & Oracle - Zombies, Lady Soul - Aretha Franklin.

1969: Stand - Sly & The Family Stone

There's A Riot Goin' On is more adventurous and deserving of all the accolades heaped upon it, but I always felt Stand was under appreciated. My thinking was this: Riot was a mind-blower alright, but Stand was aural revolution masquerading as pop music. And, it's that subversive element that really pushes it over the top, for me at least. It is an amazing album to listen to on headphones, which you really need to do if you want to understand what I'm babbling about. RUNNERS-UP Let It Bleed - Rolling Stones, Dusty In Memphis - Dusty Springfield.

1970: Loaded - Velvet Underground

Huddled in the kitchen, avoiding all contact with anyone else at the party, is where you'll find them, obsessively comparing and arguing the finer (and not so fine) points of minutiae from albums great and small. If you were to ask these sad people what the best VU ablum is/was, I'm sure the majority would offer Nico, the next highest vote-getter would probably be White Light, and there is a chance that a small minority might say "VU/VU." Well, they're all wrong. Loaded is the pivot point between the outrageous originality and inventiveness of the Velvet Underground and the banality of Lou Reed's solo career to follow. Loaded is the place where, despite pressure from the record label (the title is a mockery of the directive to make sure the album was "loaded with hits"), the band was finally able to just be who they were. This is loose and relaxed, and while it may not host the greatest of Velvet Underground songs--although one could argue that point--it certainly hosts the band's most well known. RUNNERS-UP Funhouse - Stooges, Cosmo's Factory - Creedence Clearwater Revival.

1971: High Time - MC5

So, you've gone from being hyped as the next great thing on the cover of Rolling Stone--before you've even signed a contract or recorded an album--to being never was-es just one album later. Your debut album failed miserably when you mistook the sounds of cash registers for the bells of the revolution chiming. Your second album, while still better than most of the stuff being released that year, fails commercially and--even worse--is resented by your core fan-base for being an emasculation on vinyl, which it was. Police harassment, hard drugs and a complete lack of interest--even in the Motor City--has already made your yet to be recorded third album irrelevant. What do you do? Well, if you're the Five, you let one of your own produce your record for a change and you go ahead and make the album you've always had in you. You write an epitaph to everything that was good and wrong and fucked up about the 60s, and you create a masterpiece. From the opener of their first (live) album:

"...Brothers and Sisters the time has come for each and everyone of you to decide, whether you are gonna be the problem or whether you are gonna be the solution. (That's right!) You must choose, Brothers, you must choose. It takes five seconds, five seconds of decision, five seconds to realize your purpose here on the planet. It take five seconds to realize that it's time to move. It's time to get down with it. Brothers, it's time to testify, and I want to know: Are you ready to testify? Are you ready? I give you a testimonial--THE MC5!"

Fuckin' A. RUNNERS-UP There's A Riot Goin' On - Sly & The Family Stone, Staple Swingers - Staple Singers.

1972: Pink Moon - Nick Drake

Unlike the rest of the albums on this here post, I came to the critically lauded Pink Moon very late. I could give you some choice excuses, but the simple truth was reverse-snobbery. I couldn't get over my aversion to all the junk attached to the album: Drake died young and pretty from an "accidental" suicide, Drake was criminally overlooked in his lifetime, Drake was a misunderstood genius, etc. When I finally got around to listening to this haunting, brilliant album, I was in my mid-to-late 30s and finally able to just focus in on the music. It's one of the few times I've actually been rewarded for getting old. RUNNERS-UP Talking Book - Stevie Wonder, Exile On Main St. - Rolling Stones.

I was actually surprised how long it took to write this post, I've been working on it off and on all day, which is why I ended up truncating it from the originally planned ten albums down to five. Lord knows when I'll get to the next five, but I'll try not to make it too long.

cinema

2008-07-28T09:23:00.002-06:00

From The Comments Of The AV Club's Take On The Pitchfork Festival In Chicago

2008-07-22T21:34:00.003-06:00

7:25pm, Sean: Backstage in the line for free Chipotle burritos, Spoon's Britt Daniel uses the old "Just wanted to say hi—not trying to cut the line!" trick on me to cut the line. He tells the Chipotle rep how he used to be a stockholder in the company, but sold it when it dropped below 80 points. "Oh, but we just closed at 89!" she says. "No, I'm pretty sure you closed at 72," he says, as they play an uncomfortable round of "respectfully disagree." Then he pulls out his Blackberry to check. This is perhaps the least rock 'n' roll thing I have ever witnessed.

Just admit it
by well

Nobody wanted to watch Spoon because Britt Daniel is the Gordon Gekko of indie-rock.

3:34 PM Mon July 21, 2008

hipster doofus
that, for lack of a better word, is good.

Tod2001
He's the Billy Joel of grandparent-approved-indie-rock.

Keith Phipps
I love Spoon. But I've seen them four or five times. Also, I had to check my stocks.

willem
For me it's not as much about Britt Daniel as it is Spoon's MUSIC.
Oh yeah...forgot about that stuff, eh?

Britt Daniel (as played by Denis Leary)
Well for me it's all about IPO's and bulls and bears and Morgan Stanley and Fannie Mae and David Dudikoff and that crazy guy with the buttons on MSNBC and Rush Limbaugh...

and interest rates, and the fed, and mortgage crisis profiteering, and Conde Nast, hedge funds, broker fees, Charles Schwab, Colonel Sanders, Deion Sanders, Dionne Warwick, Warwick Davis, Bette Davis, Betty Crocker, Joe Cocker, Joe Montana, Tony Montana, Tony Soprano, soppressetta, proscuitto, provolone, Axe body spray, Florence Henderson, Harry and the Hendersons, MTV, HIV, ICUP...

Danity Kane, Fredro Starr, Fortune 500, Bill O'Reilly, driving around in my 14 mile per gallon Cadillac Escalade with a John McCain sticker on my rear window, Fox News, Fox Sports, Fox Fur Coats, Hall and Oates, ballin' goats, lighting my Cubans with original Honus Wagner baseball cards...

...chocolate doughnuts, and then the music. Why? Because fuck you, that's why.

Koff
Yes! Someone had to say it.

That One Guy From Almost Famous
Finally. The truth!

broken

2008-07-14T08:46:00.001-06:00

America Online

2008-07-01T13:18:00.009-06:00

Why I am still using aol? Because it came free with my computer, has remained free for five years now, and because I'm too lazy (and cheap) to switch? Okay, yes, that's true. Because I'm greeted each day upon logging on with "Welcome! You've got mail!" Yeah, I do kind of like that ... I'll sheepishly admit it. The voice of aol always speaks to me even when no one else seems to want to. But, also, because I am privy to special bonuses provided by aol to its loyal subscribers ... like This Day in History and The Word of the Day. Instant education each time I log on. For instance, today's word of the day is one I may never have come across in my normal routine but one that I feel truly blessed to have discovered:

Word of the Day

trichotillomania

trichotillomania • \trick-uh-till-uh-MAY-nee-uh\ • noun: an abnormal desire to pull out one's hair
Example sentence: Connie's trichotillomania left her with an unfortunate array of bald spots along the crown of her head.

Powered by Merriam-Webster

ex libris

2008-06-11T10:44:00.001-06:00

String

2008-06-10T14:35:00.007-06:00

Astounded. Confounded. Dismayed. Angry. And, yes, a little sad.

I didn't see it coming and maybe I should have. They killed Stringer Bell.

Yes, I'm a little behind the times when it comes to "The Wire" (almost through Season 3). A certain pegleg sent me the dvds at Xmas and I've been slowly, deliberately working my way through the series. And I love it.

Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with Stringer Bell. Or String, as I call him. I'm down like that. Drug dealer, real estate developer, economics major, String was smart but ruthless. He had a head for business and a vision of building a legitimate empire. He had men killed, including D'Angelo Barksdale ... but that was most likely a good call. He then slept with his ex. Oh well. He could always be counted on to look good in a natty suit. Yeah, he looked real good. And he also ran a copy shop. Huh, go figure. He and Avon betrayed each other and Stringer Bell paid. Gunned down in a hail of bullets at the hands of Brother Mouzone and Omar Little, two of the most outrageous and merciless characters to appear on tv ... and yet so likeable somehow, especially Omar. What is it with this show?

Don't tell me what happens. I watched Stringer Bell's shooting last night and I'm still hoping that he doesn't die (couldn't he pull through like Kima?). But it doesn't look good. Bastards! And I'm worried now that some important element in the show's dynamism will also have died.

If you aren't already keen on "The Wire" (and almost everyone is, it seems) let me say that Stringer Bell, drug kingpin, leading a meeting of his ramshackle street underlings by Robert's Rules of Order is one of the greatest moments in tv history. The scene made me positively giddy.

Saugus

2008-05-20T14:37:00.001-06:00

Monday Morning Disco 01 : Disco Benefits 01

2008-05-19T12:25:00.003-06:00

WHAT A GREAT WAY TO GET IN SHAPE while dancing under mirrored balls,
colored lights, and the strobes of a Disco. The music never stops.
You will find yourself totally entranced, unable to leave the dance
floor.

Monday Morning Disco 00 : Preface

2008-05-12T13:36:00.006-06:00

STEP INTO THE REALM OF THROBBING RHYTHM,
BODY HEAT.
MULTI-COLORED STROBE LIGHTS
FLASHING SURREAL IMAGES ONTO MIRRORED WALLS.
FANTASYLAND WITH A BEAT
TO KNOCK DOWN ALL BARRIERS,
BLOW OUT FRUSTRATIONS....
PRIMAL
UNIVERSAL
LANGUAGE OF DISCO DANCE

3.12 Apr 08 : Peel

2008-05-07T12:26:00.003-06:00

This, as the title on the image above can attest, is the first volume of two chronicling the outrageously fertile post-punk period that was so authoritatively and lovingly curated by John Peel. The title also says 1977-1982, but really this is from the years 1978-1980. It is amazing how vibrant and current these thirty year old songs sound.

01. Electricity – Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark
02. Other Boys – Wah! Heat
03. At Home He’s A Tourist – Gang Of Four
04. Heart Of Song – Joseph K
05. Stool Pigeon – Vic Godard & The Subway Sect
06. Me I Disconnect From You – Gary Numan
07. You – Delta 5
08. Give Me Everything – Magazine
09. Sound Of Music – Joy Division
10. La Grande Illusion – Television Personalities
11. Hollow Inside - Buzzcocks
12. Flight – A Certain Ratio
13. Regal Zone – Siouxsie & The Banshees
14. Uomo-Sex-Al-Apache – Bow Wow Wow
15. Like Clockwork – Boomtown Rats
16. Eine Symphony Des Grauens – Monochrome Set
17. Fatal Flaw – Sound
18. A Forest – Cure
19. Poptones – Public Image Limited

Wowio? Zowie-YO!

2008-05-02T18:04:00.006-06:00

Having recently hit a milestone birthday (I'm not saying which one), and, being a present whore, the wife-wifey was forced to dole out some serious cash. One of the items considered was Amazon's Kindle. The Kindle is a fancy little doohickey. It uses some sort of--screw that, I'll just steal some words from their site:

Revolutionary electronic-paper display provides a sharp, high-resolution screen that looks and reads like real paper.
Simple to use: no computer, no cables, no syncing.
Wireless connectivity enables you to shop the Kindle Store directly from your Kindle—whether you’re in the back of a taxi, at the airport, or in bed.
Buy a book and it is auto-delivered wirelessly in less than one minute.
More than 115,000 books available, including more than 100 of 112 current New York Times® Best Sellers.
New York Times® Best Sellers and New Releases $9.99, unless marked otherwise.
Free book samples. Download and read first chapters for free before you decide to buy.
Top U.S. newspapers including The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and Washington Post; top magazines including TIME, Atlantic Monthly, and Forbes—all auto-delivered wirelessly.
Top international newspapers from France, Germany, and Ireland; Le Monde, Frankfurter Allgemeine, and The Irish Times—all auto-delivered wirelessly.
More than 300 top blogs from the worlds of business, technology, sports, entertainment, and politics, including BoingBoing, Slashdot, TechCrunch, ESPN's Bill Simmons, The Onion, Michelle Malkin, and The Huffington Post—all updated wirelessly throughout the day.
Lighter and thinner than a typical paperback; weighs only 10.3 ounces.
Holds over 200 titles.
Long battery life. Leave wireless on and recharge approximately every other day. Turn wireless off and read for a week or more before recharging. Fully recharges in 2 hours.
Unlike WiFi, Kindle utilizes the same high-speed data network (EVDO) as advanced cell phones—so you never have to locate a hotspot.
No monthly wireless bills, service plans, or commitments—we take care of the wireless delivery so you can simply click, buy, and read.
Includes free wireless access to the planet's most exhaustive and up-to-date encyclopedia—Wikipedia.org.
Email your Word documents and pictures (.JPG, .GIF, .BMP, .PNG) to Kindle for easy on-the-go viewing.

So, yeah, that all sounds pretty damn cool. But, several factors (and not, shockingly, the $400 price tag) made me decide in the negative: 1. I have no problem paying for stuff (just ask the Boss), but I think $10 per book without any actual ownership--ie., I can't share them with friends or print them or modify them or whatevah--is flatout ridunkulous. 2. The thing is in black&white, which, while aesthetically pleasing, actually limits the amount of things you can read, especially magazines and intrablogs. 3. No freakin' PDFs? Are you amazonians insane? It's only the most popular document format in the world. 4. And finally, I'm holdin' out for the mac reader. I know, I know, my transition to the world of mac has not gone smoothly, but when the appelites hip themselves to how many units Amazon is shifting of their un-userfriendly and UGLY device, you just know that they'll be creating the iBook or iReader or some sort of iSomething with a quickness.

In preparation for the inevitable gizmo to come, I recently signed up with wowio. What is wowio, you ask? Well, for absolutely nothing you get to download free ebooks. Legally. For bupkis. All you need is a non-anynomous email address (which may pose a problem to some, I know I had to use the Trouble & Strife's work email to join.) That's it. The catch--and you knew there had to be one of those--is that you can only download three books a day for a maximum of thirty in one calendar month. These numbers may lessen if they're having a busy month, but I can't begrudge them that. The other thing I can't begrudge them is the fact that the books are "sponsored" which means that there's usually a couple of pages of ads before the actual book starts. Small price to pay (no pun intended)(well, actually it was.) I have no desire to read ebooks on my computer, and I bought a tablet pc to read my comics, but how can you refuse gratis? Especially when you factor in how cool it is to have your library together before the iThingamagig comes out. My stash so far, with another 50 books in the queue:

A Miscellany of Britain - Tom O'Meara
Acts of God - Ted Steinberg
American Original: A Life of Will Rogers - Ray Robinson
Are We Hardwired - William Clark & Michael Grunstein
Behind The Scenes Baseball - Doug Decatur
Belong - Jennifer Morton
Bittersweet - Peter Macinnis
Cat's Cradle - Kurt Vonnegut
Consider Her Ways - Frederick Phillip Grove
Curse & Berate in 69 Languages - R.V. Branham
Down the Mysterly River - Bill Willingham
Evolution as Religion - Mary Midgley
Faces In The Clouds - Stewart Elliott Guthrie
Faith In Science - Mark Richardson & Gordy Slack
Guantanamo - Dorothea Dieckmann
Land of a Thousand Eyes - Peter Olszewski
Land of War Elephants - Mathew Wilson
Oh Pure and Radiant Heart - Lydia Millet
Run Like You Stole Something - Damian Farrow & Justin Kemp
Scorch - A.D. Nauman
Size Matters - Laksmi Bhaskaran
The Book of Numbers - Tim Glynne-Jones
The New Ballgame - Glenn Guzzo
The Original Mermaid - Emily Gibson w/ Barbara Firth
The Risk in Being Alive - Brian Hancock
Year of the Hare - Mark Finn

I'm not saying that wowio is the Library of Congress, but they got a pretty good selection in a variety of subjects, and it's easy as pie to use. Hell, there's even a bunch of classics, so all y'all can get your cannon on. Oh, did I mention it is free?

Gossip : Live In Liverpool

2008-04-30T09:11:00.007-06:00

So, they are huge on that fickle island north of France, and my brother keeps telling me that they are all over MTV, but, what can you do? I'm beyond the days of breast-beating over commercial success, or, even worse, sneering from my ivory tower of indie-cred, "Sellout!" As if there was anything worse than signing with a major label, or to put it in even less forgiving terms, as if those bands didn't get chewed up and spit out chasing their corporate dreams.

Regardless, I'm past that. What I'm not past is appreciating good music. Reveling in what it is that makes me a music compulsive. Readers of unframed (both of you) and people trapped in my sphere of music influence can attest that I've been a champion of this band for years. I have a really hard time coming up with names when I try to figure out who the Gossip's challengers as best band currently in existence are. They are IT, and it, is where it's at.

Imagine my surprise then, when while perusing the AV Club, I saw that there was a new Gossip release. Turns out it was only a live album, which I'm no fan of. Luckily, I actually read the review and found out that a DVD of the show was included in the package. Cha-ching! Available at Amazon for ten bucks. Cha-ching! Even though I was liquidating my entire CD collection, I couldn't resist. And I'm glad I didn't. The Gossip live are a force and I was never able to share that experience with my family or friends who hadn't had a chance to see them. It's not the same as being there, but it was pretty fucking close.

So, if I've ever had any impact on your music appreciation, if any of my mixes have ever made your day better, hell, simply if you know what's good for you; GO BUY THIS NOW! You will not regret it, and like I said it's only ten dollars. Man, you'd spend more than that on a forty of OE and a pack of smokes.

GO BUY IT NOW. And crank it all the way up.

To Will

2008-04-23T15:35:00.011-06:00

This date in history is one my favorite and most consistent online searches. Truth be told I am more often than not disappointed to find nothing but the most mind-numbingly boring minutae. Idaho selected the potato as it's state vegetable today on this date in 1923 or 1894 or 1978. Saran Wrap was patented on this date in 1947 or 1959 or 1961. Go figure. Today I made a surprising discovery. I uncovered that it is the anniversary of Hank Aaron's very first home run in the Major Leagues. Interesting. And good for him! But I chose to delve further and found something else. Not that Maine's state tree is the Pine Tree. More interesting (if you can imagine!) and not mentioned on Good Morning America which opted to tout something about Shirley Temple ad nauseam. Was it her 80th birthday? I tuned it right out. But I do recall glancing up to see the little nymph shaking her booty amidst much older Humberts to her signature number "Good Ship Lollypop". Gag.

Indeed, it seems today marks the anniversary of William Shakespeare's death. He died at the age of 52 on April 23, 1616. My sketchy math skills determine that he's been dead for 392 years now. Cause of death is unknown though I've read everything from an over-indulgent drinking binge, to cancer, to pneumonia, to the plague. Such a mystery is Will. Did he even write MacBeth?

Shakespeare's tombstone in Stratford's Holy Trinity Church bears this inscription, said to have been written by him:

Good friend,
For Jesus' sake forbear to dig the dust enclosed here.
Blest be the man that spares these stones,
and curst be he that moves my bones.

Love him or loathe him, The Bard is dead. But his influence on drama, poetry, literature (redundant of me, no?), language, art and popular culture is undeniable even after nearly 400 years of his last breath. The words "assassination" and "bump" were coined by Shakespeare. If you say "laugh it off" you are quoting Shakespeare. The words "puke" and "bedroom" originated in the works of Shakespeare. Some of you use those words in the same sentence weekly.

Here's to the Bard. Cheers!

metaphor

2008-03-16T12:09:00.001-06:00

Put On Yer Thinkin' Caps

2008-03-10T16:05:00.005-06:00

It's been too long since I've posed a puzzle. And the blog wonders if there are minds still churning out there. Or even if a cobweb could be swept aside. This one comes from Jonathan Swift, satirist and author of Gulliver's Travels, as well as one of my faves, A Modest Proposal. He's so clever it isn't even funny.

We are very little creatures; all of us have different features. One of us in glass is set; one of us you'll find in jet. Another you may see in tin, and a fourth is boxed within. If the fifth you should pursue, it can never fly from you. What are we?

Bye Bye Golden West

2008-03-01T15:57:00.003-07:00

I have not been to the Golden West in about five years and it was ten years before that but I was sad to hear it had burned down. I remember back when I was still called a Gen x-er in the early 90s. It was that period in one's life before responsibility when you are invincible. You went out on Tuesday or Thursday (after playing a few hours of Sega NHL hockey or drinking beers in the driveway) because that's when national bands would be on their way to LA or back and would stop in the Q for a few bucks. The Albuquerque downtown passport was in vogue and got you into five bars for five bucks on Friday or Saturday night. The Zone hadn't been invented yet. Before the faux irish bar and that creepy bar where they make the women dress like school girls came to town. There was the Dingo, the El Rey, Beyond Ordinary, the bar before launchpad (name?). The sunshine was struggling but putting up a good fight before going corporate. And there was the Golden West which just had a great vibe and was a great place to see a band. If I were 23 now, I think the Golden West would still be on my list of places to enjoy life (along with Atomic and probably the little bar). For me the Golden West was pretty much the last vestige of this period in Downtown and I will miss looking in their window as I go by and thinking about all of the bands I am missing. So good bye Golden West and rest in peace.

The Perfect Gift?

2008-02-19T17:15:00.006-07:00

I sure as hell don't have everything. But this is the gift for someone who does ... or me.

If you are a collector this is a must have. Be the first to get your Very Own Custom Candy Headz that looks like you or anything you could ever want !!! Custom Candy Headz that can be made to look like anything you can imagine.

Okay, for $299.99. So maybe this isn't for me after all. But I happen to have a rather substantial Pez collection. Not like some Pez fanatics (they're crazy) but a modest fan. This may be the result of a childhood friend who had all the cool Barbies and the Barbie townhouse and 2 Barbie cars and the Barbie bathroom and Ken and Skipper and all the stylish clothes and accoutrements, etc. She had her own play house outside. It had little plastic cans of soup and vegetables and a fully-working simulated kitchen. Escoffier via PlaySkool. And a cool sandbox with big-ass Tonka trucks. And a Radioflyer wagon which we once backed over while sitting in her mother's Beetle. And a toboggan upon which we once nearly killed ourselves sledding down her precipitous driveway into an oncoming Nova. One of those girls who had all the things we didn't ... and loads of Pez dispensers. And she wasn't big on sharing.

Would it make me a narcissist to say I wanted a Pez dispenser sculpted into my likeness? Probably. Would I love one anyway? Yes.

But if you're not into Pez maybe you'd like a Star Trek action figure with the body and wardrobe of Captain Kirk but with the head of ... you. These will set you back $425.00 for the custom talking action figure. A bit less for the non-talking variety. But, hell, if you're buying a Star Trek action figure for yourself or your best mate you might as well go all out. I often use the phrase "Make it so, Number One" in my best Picard ... it usually goes unnoticed. Maybe it would make sense coming out of my Wednesday as Jean-Luc figurine.

These artisans also create regular every-day run-of-the-mill action figures, military action figures, sports action figures and a few other "what the heck?" figures. Send them the photos and dimensions and your credit card number and you might be the hero of someone's birthday party. Pricey but one of a kind. http://herobuilders.com/index.htm

By the way, my birthday is coming right up. Ten months and a few days ...

Doc Hollywood

2008-02-11T11:22:00.000-07:00

I own a god-awful amount of dvds. Once, at a party here at the house, a woman asked me why. I have to admit I was a bit flummoxed by the question. I'm sure I stammered something about liking to watch movies over and over, and that's a large part of it. I also know that I enjoy loaning movies out to friends and neighbors alike. I'm like the library or netflix, without pesky monetary fees of some sort. Regardless, it's clear that there are a slew of films that I either don't need to own, or don't even know if I need to own. Time to do a little weeding.

With that in mind, I've decided to watch the films in my collection that are ripe for discarding. There are three types of dvds in my collection that fit the bill: 1. A film that I heard was good, yet have never seen. 2. A film I've seen once and liked. 3. Schmaltzy crap that I've somehow acquired. Seeing as how my attention span is limited, I've decided to give these marginal dvds 30 minutes of my time. When those thirty minutes are up, I will decide, Solomon like, whether or not to ditch the dvd. First up, Doc Hollywood.

WHY IT'S HERE

As embarrassing as it is to admit that I have this movie in my collection, I'm at a loss for explanations. All I can say is that I have, and will always have, a deep inexplicable love for Michael J Fox.

WHAT IT'S ABOUT

I guess if you've seen the movie Cars, you've seen Doc Hollywood. It's your basic fish-out-of-water movie. I'll leave it to the Evansville Courier Press to get you up to speed (no pun intended):

The makers of "Doc Hollywood" called. They want their movie back.
"Cars" rolls along like an animated, automotive version of that 1991 Michael J. Fox gem, from its basic plot points to its feel-good conclusion.

Stop us if you think you've heard this one before: A young hotshot on his way to Los Angeles causes a crash and gets stuck in a small town. Before he can leave, he must spend several days doing community service, only to find out that he likes the simple life there and that he's learned more about family and friendship than he'd ever imagined.

Y'now it!

WHO'S IN IT

The aforementioned midget. Major Charles Winchester III. The love interest from Tommy Boy. The old coot from The Lost Boys.

WHAT YOU GET

A lot of Southern accents. Cows in the middle of the road. The cranky old Black nurse. The cranky old White doctor. A gaggle of old loveable biddies. Yokels that can't read or figure out that the spot in their vision is actually a smudge on their glasses. The smart-mouthed, tough, single-mom/ambulance driver "Lou."

HIGHLIGHTS

The odd John Waters-esque member of the City Council. Ellen & The Pakistani. Julie Warner's achingly gratuitous topless scene (first as a prophetic dream sequence and then in "real life" not thirty seconds later), and the old coot verbally dressing down Senor Fox and finishing it off by making it known in no uncertain terms that even with his citified ways, Fox probably couldn't tell the difference between "crap and crisco."

VERDICT

Discard. But, only just.

Loser

2008-02-05T14:39:00.000-07:00

I'm not into the football. And, yes, I call it "the football". As in, "What's on NESN? Classic Red Sox? No? Well, I'm not into the football or the basketball. Bruins? Okay ... leave it." So, no I didn't watch the Superbowl. I didn't bet any money or over-imbibe and stumble home in a drunken stupor sobbing for Tom Brady. I suppose I figured they'd win or at least hoped they'd win so I wouldn't have to hear all the bitching from the regulars at the bar on Monday. And, hell, I'm a New Englander born and bred. This ain't the Bean Pot where real specific loyalties and grudges come into play ... unfortunately.

Yet, something compelled me to click over from the program I was watching. Just wanted to check the score. Instead:

Good lord. Did anyone actually like those songs when they were new in the 80s? Fess up. Is this the best the Superbowl can get? Millions spent on advertising (don't want to rant about the ads but why must I listen to how clever the talking stain was? All that money spent to shove some product down your throat and you think the ad was "cool"? Sickening.). Hundreds and thousands spent by generous parents to procure seats for their excited tots. Not to mention the dough needed for traveling and hotels. Hats and t-shirts and flags and hot dogs and beer ... well, that's their problem. But they're revved up and it's a once in a lifetime event. Talk about exhilarating. Dad, you're the best father ever! Priceless. And for half-time, drum roll ... wow, some albino corpse comes out and mumbles some old tune about skydiving. If only he'd had a wardrobe malfunction ...

I should have stuck with Gossip Girl.

Tell The World

2008-01-31T16:08:00.000-07:00

I know it's been a long while since I've posted. I haven't had much to say, and, or, I've been busy with stuff that I don't want to geek out on in this most public of spaces (although five readers isn't all that public.) Regardless, I got news that I can't keep to myself. I'm ready to burst with pride. My second grader got tested today for the gifted program. The cut-off on the WISC-4 IQ test was 130 and he scored a 135. He was also in the 94 percentile for his age group on a critical thinking test. Other results:

Math Calculation - Late 2nd Grade
Math Fluency - Late 2nd Grade
Reading - Late 4th Grade
Writing Fluency - Early 5th Grade
Applied Problems - Early 5th Grade
Reading Fluency - Late 5th Grade
Spelling - Late 5th Grade
Writing Samples - Late 8th Grade
Comprehension - Late 8th Grade

Man, I'm getting all misty-eyed just typing this out. I'm so proud of him, I can't even begin to articulate what I'm feeling. My son's the man. M to the A to the N. MAN! Mad props to the Leprecano* for stepping to the plate when the game was on the line. Too bad he got his mama's penmanship, however.

*mexican/irish

Memphis

2008-01-21T15:15:00.000-07:00

Five, Seven, Five

2008-01-14T15:32:00.000-07:00

Know what's really fun?
Adopt a Cockney accent
And say "Paul Weller"

Why are you dancing?
Just stare gravely at the band
Act appropriate

Someone stole my bike
Right in front of my building
But left the basket

It would be cool if
Haruki Murakami
Really talked to cats

While he sleeps, I spy
Ann Coulter on his bookshelf
Slip out quietly

We can only date
If you meet me in Brooklyn
I'm strictly borough

Yes, my hair is streaked
Yes, it sure is "different"
Yes, yes Uncle Mike

I'm a regular
The bartender knows my name
I am lonely inside

Vinyl collection
Original plastic sleeves
Alphabetical

I can't beat to post.
But I can't bear not to post.
Love hurts, message board.

***Some on my favorites from a recent belated birthday gift -- Hipster Haiku by Sioban Adcock.

toothbrush

2008-01-12T11:34:00.000-07:00

The Aftertaste is Equally as Good

2008-01-03T17:00:00.000-07:00

If I were rich and famous I'd .... One of those questions that should be easy to answer and maybe it is.

First of all, you deal with the personal appearance. Facials, nails, hair (and hair-removal when need be), teeth, wardrobe, etc. I needn't go into the gory details -- you know what you'd like done. This goes for men as well as women. You get yourself looking good.

Next, you get the cool car and pad. Maybe a Cadillac and a house in Napa Valley plus a luxury apartment in New York. Obviously. Or a Vespa and a castle in the Scottish Highlands. You decide. Rig it up with the hottest technical equipment and furnishings. Wouldn't mind having a maid visit every now and then. Or a personal trainer for that matter. Maybe you start collecting art. And I'm not talking paintings by Tony Bennett.

Third, you meet and (important) hang out with other famous people. Think of the actors, musicians, directors or writers who you really dig. Now you have a legitimate reason for not only hanging in the same room with them but for approaching them. Hell, they're famous, you're famous. That's a lot in common. Soon you're sipping single malt scotch with David Bowie and Andy Warhol. Okay. Andy's dead. So maybe Norman Mailer or Truman Capote. No, both dead. Whatever. You're famous ... find someone you admire and tie one on before the paparazzi. It'll only help your career in the end.

And of course now that you've hit the big time you must take up a cause and donate some hard-earned dough and lip service. Whatever you're passionate about ... now you can be heard. Animal rights, vegetarianism, breast cancer research, pedestrian rights, environmentalism. No end to the possibilities. If you've got clout, you've got power.

Now what? Sit back and get fat and richer? No. You put out products. A clothing line? The ubiquitous celebrity perfume/cologne? Maybe food? Paul Newman does it. Nah, I'd go with wine. Francis Ford Coppola and his daughter Sophia aren't the only celebs making lots of dough with wine. Greg Norman and Ernie Els, Olivia Newton-John, Sir Cliff Richard, Fess Parker, Sam Neill and Barry Manilow have lucrative vineyards producing fairly decent wines. I like to drink it and I'm sure I'd like it even more if it had my name on it.

And there's always coffee. Newman does that too. And I've recently discovered that David Lynch is passionate about coffee and has marketed "David Lynch Signature Cup". You can order 12 oz. of his whole beans or blends of organic espresso, organic house roast or organic decaf french roast for $16.27. Strange price. Strange guy. But ever-so passionate. Why coffee? Here's his eloquent spiel:

"I love coffee. I have loved coffee since I was a young boy. I love the smell of coffee and I love the taste of coffee. David Lynch Signature Cup Coffee is a coffee I particularly love. It has a great, deep, smooth flavor of delicious coffee. It has a good taste to me when it first enters, and the aftertaste is equally as good. It is like the powerful smoothness of a 12-cylinder engine, as opposed to a jangled 6-cylinder , or a V8. It has a richness and the flavorful constituents of this coffee fuels my thinking. I like to think and work with this coffee, and ideas seem to be in every bean. This coffee makes me happy. It is also an organic coffee and fairly traded. I feel lucky to have found this coffee, and lucky to drink it every day. Anyway, I hope you like it and I hope it fuels some great ideas and a happy, flavorful life for you."

Maybe Mr. Lynch has had a bit too much coffee. Does Paul Newman have tea covered? I think when I am rich and famous I'll just stick with wine.

Helvetica

2008-01-02T14:21:00.001-07:00

shouts and whispers: Berlin

2007-12-19T09:48:00.000-07:00

'Twas With Was Down a Not

2007-12-16T14:07:00.000-07:00

I madly love everything that adventurously breaks the thread of discursive thought and suddenly ignites a flare illuminating a life of relations fecund in another way. -Andre Breton

Poetry should be made by all. -Lautreamont

The Surrealists and Dadaists initiated the most radically liberating critique of reason of the century. Their brilliant investigations were conducted through art and polemic, manifesto and demonstration, love and politics. Love it or hate it. The movement freed words and images with scandalous aplomb. Forget the logical systems of classical art. These radicals pawned the weapons of premeditation brandished by their predecessors in favor of cannons loaded with chance, accident and spontaneity. Think of Bunuel's Un Chien Andalou where the eye is sliced by a razor to destroy normal perception. Absurd, magical images and unpremeditated insights spring from this literal opening of the eye. But most specifically and remarkably, it was through games, play, techniques of surprise and methodologies of the fantastic that the Surrealists subverted logical, rational order and undermined the reasonable and the respectable. Thank the eternal chaos!

Okay. I admit I went Christmas shopping yesterday and simply couldn't resist buying just a little something for myself. A book of Surrealist games. It seemed to leap out at me from the well-ordered display table. Ironic? Perhaps. But I cannot get enough of it.

The exercises go way beyond The Exquisite Corpse which you are most likely familiar with. The players sit around a table and each writes on a sheet of paper a definite or indefinite article and an adjective, then folds the paper to conceal the words. The next player writes a noun and conceals it, the next a verb etc. until a wacky sentence is produced. Fun, no? Included in the book are other language-based chain games of chance and creative collaboration as well as visual tricks and techniques. We may be eschewing scrabble for a new sport at my family's table this Christmas if I have my way.

Still reading? I apologize for my enthusiam. But the above is merely an intro to today's passion. The Dadaist poem. The rules:

To make a Dadaist poem
Take a newspaper.
Take a pair of scissors.
Choose an article as long as you are planning to make your poem.
Cut out the article.
Then cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them in a bag.
Shake it gently.
Then take out the scraps one after the other in the order in which they left the bag.
Copy conscientiously.
The poem will be like you.
And here you are a writer, infinitely original and endowed with a sensibility that is charming though beyond the understanding of the vulgar. -Tristan Tzara

I decided The Surrealists and Dadaists would allow my breaking the "rules" here a bit. We're having a wicked Nor'easter and I didn't get the newspaper. Instead I recreated Poe's The Raven, first stanza:

Door tapping volume at a pondered more rapping chamber
A someone forgotten muttered
Tapping, nodded, suddenly nothing
Visitor of only chamber and midnight rapping
Once door gently curious
Tis my weary dreary quaint napping
At weak lore over a while
I my nearly and of this I while and many came
I some upon there as.

And, one more, via Clement Moore. Merry Christmas to all. Read at a slow, lilting pace, these "poems" pack more pluck than you'd think:

House heads were children
Soon care would kerchief their chimney had St. Nicholas winter's creature hung
Sugar-plums be snug their stockings
Visions settled the night through in while by not
The all in nestled where that stirring long the beds just were
Mama cap before danced of a mouse
'Twas with was down a not
In there all hopes and the Christmas
A nap I my in even her in for and when.

I think I'll try the Lord's Prayer next. If there turns out to be a God after all, I may end up in Hell. But I'll get to hang out with Marcel Duchamp.

teeth

2007-12-05T09:21:00.001-07:00

Sleight of Whistle

2007-12-02T14:27:00.000-07:00

While no one was solving my latest Latent puzzle (why?? *!!*$#*&*@!) I spent an evening in Providence R.I. this past Thursday for an extraordinary night out with the girls. Andrew Bird in concert at Lupo's Heartbreak Hotel. A pretty great venue with more bartenders and security police than I have seen in some time. I serve twice as many with no backup and no bouncer. Huh ...

Andrew sings, plays guitar, violin, xylophone, whistles ... rolls his eyes when need be. He's got a tonic voice, a flair for cunning lyric and a wicked mastery of non-posture. Maybe because he isn't that well-known ... yet. Plus the sleight of whistle. He whistles a lot actually. And I'm partial to the rolling of the eyes for some reason ... Yeah, well, I may roll my eyes sometimes ... only when it is imperative.

The guy is amazing. If you're not down with him yet you should check out my favorite cds of his Armchair Apocrypha and Andrew Bird & The Mysterious Production of Eggs. Or his myspace link where you can hear his music and get a taste of his gift: http://www.myspace.com/andrewbird

These photos I took don't really do him justice but ... sorry Andrew. There's always some tall girl with frizzed hair (usually blonde) in front of the 5'2" chicks.

Open Sesame

2007-11-25T15:10:00.000-07:00

You want to send a valuable manuscript to a friend securely. Enemies are everywhere. They seek to destroy you and covet your words. You have a box which can be fitted with multiple locks, and you have several locks and their corresponding keys. However, your friend does not have any keys to your locks, and if you send a key in an unlocked box, the key could be copied en route and the document purloined. How can you send the manuscript securely?

Lost on Edith

2007-11-21T15:16:00.000-07:00

Control : January

2007-11-20T09:08:00.000-07:00

I don't know / but I've been told
(I don't know but I've been told)
The Guild Cinema / has got Control
(The Guild Cinema is gonna show Control)

A little birdie has let me know that it looks like New Mexico's only single screen independent theater will be showing Anton Corbijn's Joy Division biopic Control in January. Since it don't look like anyone else is bringing it in; mark those calendars and break out those old records.

I'm amped and you should be too.

Mind Expanding Subcultures

2007-11-17T10:45:00.000-07:00

Somewhere I read or someone told me that if you learn a musical instrument as an adult you keep your mind sharp. Maybe I just made it up to give me an excuse. Even though I'm a crossword addict (though I'm down to one a day), I have been feeling the need for some sort of creative outlet but I wanted something fun and hopefully easy. I found the fun part but I'm having trouble with the easy part. To clear the fog of mystery, I have purchased a shiny new Ukulele and have begun teaching myself how to contort my grubby paws to eke out a C chord.

So as I try to strum out a song with my instrument that I have a funny suspicion is woefully out of tune (I have a pitch pipe but all the strings sound the same to me so it might be hopeless), I naturally turn to the web for support. And I'm sure latent readers will be surprised to find that there is a whole ukulele world out there ready to opine, teach, perform and chat about all things ukulele. You might think of Hawaii when you think of the ukulele and for the most part you'd be right but there are a whole bunch of people out there strumming. If you are thinking that there is no way for this to be remotely cool, you are probably right but at least we can pretend.

Une De Mes Nuits Préférées De L'année

2007-11-16T10:01:00.000-07:00

Writers Walk

2007-11-11T15:33:00.000-07:00

The Writer's Strike is a week on now and all the major news programs have focused on the grief this achievement has caused the tv viewers. Desperate Housewives has only a few episodes to air. Lost may go off air entirely until next season. 24, The Office and Two and A Half Men are also likely to be pulled. Late night shows like Leno and Letterman are repeats. Ellen DeGeneres has been bombarded with jeers for continuing to air her show daily. She's cut out the monologue as a bold demonstration of her support for the writers. That's love. The strike may last up to a year if the Studios and Producers don't give in to the modest demands of the struggling visionaries behind the two-page treatment. If you're hooked on tv or your favorite show is on the way out for an interminable season of nail-biting and over-eating, take heart -- reality shows are on the wax. Dancing with the Stars, Beauty and The Geek, Project Runway, Survivor et al are airing now and may continue for much longer than anticipated. Reality Shows are the Producers' golden nugget back-up plan. I caught the tail end of Amazing Race last night and confess I'm pulling for the goth duo. And thank goodness DJ Pegleg has cable or he'd be up the veritable creek. Though, come to think of it, writers for HBO, FX and Showtime are also on strike .... hmmmm. Does anyone still like to read?

Writer's Guild of America strikers protesting with nothing written on their signs ... proving their dedication without lifting a pen.

It is true that throughout history most of the great writers have died penniless. This is tradition and should be respected. Struggling to survive, living in squalor and failing to achieve a whisper of acclaim inspired the mavericks of literature to pen their greatest works. And yet some film school dropout working on Cavemen is picketing for more money. Who do they think they are? Well, it turns out the Writer's Guild is asking for pennies ... literally. SNL alum Tim Kazurinksi breaks it down in a clip which wouldn't upload for me from youtube. Maybe they are also on strike. It is right on so check out the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qd_x_ivCSKw

nonequal

2007-11-07T18:29:00.000-07:00

Day Man, And Other Things Sunny

2007-11-02T16:09:00.000-06:00

It's been a fairly crappy year in television. There are some new shows that I've been enjoying/have enjoyed (Mad Men, Aliens In America, Life) and of course the old faves (Office, 30 Rock, Survivor, Friday Night Lights.) Hopefully, the return of the Wire and Lost in January won't simply be bittersweet--it's the Wire's final season and Lost can be shaky--but just simply sweet. And, of course, there is still It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia. Easily the funniest show on television, and also, perhaps, the most offensive. Regardless, the following clip is from season 3, episode 9 "Sweet Dee's Dating A Retarded Person" and I have to watch/hear it at least once a day. In fact, I got all the kids in my science center in Emiliano's class to sing the song with me the other day.

[Setting] Mac, Frank and Charlie start a band. They kick Charlie out and replace him with Dennis, who doesn't last long because of his glam-rock leanings (you unfortunately do not get to see his maroon codpiece), so Dennis goes over to Charlie's to start a new band (Electric Dream Machine) and finds Charlie huffing paint in the dark. Dennis tears down the curtains, daylight streams into the room...[and cue scene]

And because a little Sunny is never enough, a promo for the third season

A less funny, but still offensive and work-place inappropriate promo for the third season

And in case my exposition for "Day Man" didn't really capture the magic of "Night Man / Day Man", and/or it really works better in context, here's the full genesis of the song and the band:

Big Rabbit

2007-11-01T15:44:00.001-06:00

I hadn't heard of this before last night, October 31. But it is apparently good luck to mark the first day of each new month by starting off the morning with the words "Rabbit, Rabbit" or "Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit". If these are the first words said by you, or to you, at the start of each month, you will be the happier for it. "Rabbit, Rabbit, White Rabbit" also works.

The exact origin of the superstition is certainly unknown, though it has appeared in print at least as early as 1420 in England, where it is most commonly said to have originated, though some reports place its origins even earlier, into the 1200s. Today it has spread to most of the English-speaking countries of the world, although like all folklore, determining its exact area of distribution is difficult. The superstition is related to the broader belief in the rabbit or hare being a “lucky” animal, as exhibited in the practice of carrying a rabbit's foot for luck.

Some have also believed it is representing a jumping into the future and moving ahead with life and happiness. I thought it might have something to do with Alice in Wonderland. But the superstition appears to predate the classic story.

I remembered my conversation with the gent who informed me of this superstition/tradition sometime after breakfast. I'd most likely uttered many phrases before then ... to myself, to my cat, to the tv. So I guess my month will unfold in typical unexceptional fashion. What else is new?

Anyway, this rabbit folklore reminds me that my father's favorite way to spook us as children was to mention "The Big Rabbit". If we wanted to go outside to play at dusk or in the dark, he'd remind us that The Big Rabbit might get us. There was never any monster or vampire out there (was there?) ... just The Big Rabbit. He always got a smile out of us. Though I think I believed it for a while. I'm not sure if there is any connection, but it makes me think.

If you are like me and are unfamiliar with this rabbit superstition or if you forgot and chatted to your cat whilst toasting your bagel, or cursed at the tv weatherman, your shower, or life in general... there is still time to reap the benefits. So says this soothsayer I visited:

You'll have good luck all month if the first words you utter on the first of the month are "rabbit rabbit." Bonus luck if it's your birth month.If it's the first of the month and you're reading this, don't fret. Simply reverse the process as you drift off into slumber land repeating "tibbar tibbar." That's rabbit rabbit backwards.

Red Sox Win!

2007-10-29T15:46:00.000-06:00

Dance Couple

2007-10-26T16:15:00.000-06:00

Aunt Becky / LA65451 / After 7: Evening / Sat & Sun
28-40811
Kenwood / Where Marie's inlaws lived
CharlestonVille / Montencello / See
Georgtown
Carriage House / Wisconsin
Spring Valley / where Johnson / had his home / when he was vice / pres.
Pennsyla / Holy Trinity / Georgtown Inn / Russian / Embassy

Life Is Full Of Disappointment

2007-10-24T09:26:00.001-06:00

Despite the crushing negativity of the title above, I can't really say that my life is anything but grand. In fact, a couple of nights ago, the Trouble & Strife and I shared a tender moment infused with the aroma of our impending 10th (Tin) anniversary and me saying something along the lines of "we've had a really good run these last ten years, and I wouldn't take any of it back." We'll take a little break here to allow you time to dry your eyes before we move on.

okay?

Regardless, there are a couple of things going on that have really been major drags, and in complete disregard for the maxim of LATENT, I've decided to get personal and put it out there in the hopes that some kind of cosmic karma will help me come to terms/fix the resulting problems. Or, at the very least, give me an avenue to vent:

1. I LOST ALL OF MY BOOKMARKS

I'm blaming this one on the T & S. She refuses to accept responsibility, but this I know: I went to bed and had bookmarks and when I woke up and got on the computer (after it had been used by the Boss) my bookmarks were gone. Gone. Finito. Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but I've been cultivating my bookmarks since I was on dial-up. The world wide web is vast place and I've spent many years finding outposts and oasisis (um...oasii?) amongst all the floatsam and jetsam and pet pages. From MAME controller pages (which had their own folder) to devious ways to kill time, to a webpage dedicated to fake bands that appear in various media, all non-essential web sites have ceased to exist (for me at least.) Sure, some of the bookmarks were simply time savers, I mean, how hard is it for me to get to netflix or boing-boing? But what about all those music blogs and reference sites and impossible-to-categorize sites with their long and unwieldy urls. Man, those are what bookmarking was invented for. I think bereft is the word I'm looking for here.

On the plus-side--my silver lining in the void, so to speak--is that I've spent way less time on the computer. I have a bunch of projects that I've been dawdling on and now I'll be able to get to them. Unless I devise some other time killer, of course.

2. I STARTED SMOKING AGAIN

Having been nicotine free (mostly) since an unfortunately sad visit to Maine in the middle of the Winter a few years ago, it is my very depressing duty to affirm that I have fallen off the wagon. It kind of crept up on me, but was cemented when I bought a pack of my very favoritist smokes (Nat Sherman's MCD) for the trip to Honduras. They lasted me the first week and the I was forced to smoke the local cheapies, which luckily for me only cost 30 lempiras, or around a buck-fifty. I stopped cold turkey after our return, but that only lasted a week. Then it was only at night, right before I went to bed. And now, well, I'm sure you get the picture.

Don't get me wrong, I'm only smoking between one or two a day (cigarettes, not packs) and in health-issue terms that's still healthier than being a non-smoker living in Los Angeles, but, it still sucks. The smell sucks and the smoke lingering in my hair and clothes sucks and the empty craving in the bottom of my stomache sucks and the skulking around sucks. The suckiest part of all the sucky things associated with my embarrassing fall from grace is that my son knows about it. So now, on top of all that suckitude is the cherry-on-topness of the devastating amount of guilt that setting a bad example for my son creates in me.

On the plus-side, there is no plus-side. It is bad and now I'll just have to find the strength inside myself to quit again. God help me.

BONUS DISAPPOINTMENT:

No more posts about Wednesday's Roller Derby adventure. What's the scoop?

Cat Music

2007-10-21T16:05:00.000-06:00

I love animals but I do not necessarily love forwarded emails of baby animals cuddling up together. I love my own cat but I do not necessarily love hearing about what your cat did today. If I know your cat I am more than happy to hear of his escapades. I'm guessing that you feel the same. Regardless, Iris walked on my head and licked my face until I rose this morning. Nothing new there. Soon thereafter she knocked over a rather large mug of coffee, which I had yet to taste! And may have done so deliberately ... it has happened before. Kitty had a bee in her bonnet. But what has piqued my interest and led to post about my cat is a reaction she had to a Beethoven record I later played.

I know from experience that animals react to music in sometimes quite startling ways. Or maybe it is just cats. My family had a cat that loved The Ramones. She liked The Clash and The Damned too. But she had some deep connection to The Ramones. Truly. Whenever we put the guys on she'd sidle right up to the speaker. Sat there throughout the record sometimes, hardly moving. And we had it cranked up. Beat on the Brat, indeed.

Iris doesn't like anything bold or atonal. Put on Sun Ra and she darts under the bed like we're having a thunder storm. She freaks out. It's kind of a trip. She doesn't dig Albert Ayler or Coltrane much either. She doesn't cause a Marsha Brady scene but will usually make herself obviously scarce when they're playing. Maybe she just isn't down with jazz. Perhaps she'd climb the walls to the tunes of Kenny G but I'm not prepared to conduct that experiment.

Beethoven. It wasn't anything so bold or masculine as the Ninth. I'm afraid a valuable Ming vase might shatter if I put that record on. Moonlight Sonata. She waltzed in from the bathroom after utilizing the cat box. Her tail was oscillating. Maybe she's just glad she got the business done. But soon she's pacing. Then faster. I call out to her and she ignores me. Fine. I've got crosswords to attend to. By the Third Movement, the Rondo, she's literally running around the room in a circle without disturbing anything. She does not stop. Her tail convulsing. If she needed to lose any weight a Beethoven allegro would be her liposuction. I've never seen anything like it.

The movement ended, Side A over. Should I flip it over to the Pathetique? I do. The music begins and Iris jumps up onto the sofa and begins kneading. Within seconds she's lying down. Eyes drooping. Asleep.

Maybe there is no connection between the Moonlight Sonata and kitty's work out. I haven't wanted to play the record again. Did the C Sharp Minor trigger something in her brain or was she really justing letting off steam? We all have go to songs when we need invigorating. Something that gets the blood pumping. You're shaking your hips before you know what's happened. Or songs for relaxing, back ground tunes for cooking, getting ready to go to bed music. You've know how the music will affect your body. Maybe animals do too.

West Texas

2007-10-19T10:45:00.001-06:00

Downsizing

2007-10-14T15:38:00.000-06:00

Because I care and spend way too much of my time puzzling (others have said that, though I disagree) ... a gift to stimulate your gray matter:

From what word can you drop the last four letters without affecting the pronunciation? Too tricky? My hint: It is only a five-letter word and fairly(?) common.

Aquaman, Age 39

2007-10-08T22:16:00.001-06:00

photo courtesy of Steve Cason

Add To Cart

2007-10-04T16:33:00.000-06:00

Have you ever watched a movie and fallen in love with one of the actors? I have. Buster Keaton, John Cassavetes and Robert Mitchum at first glance. Different films. But perhaps you love Vincent Gallo. He seems to think that you probably do.

I admit that I thought highly of Buffalo 66. And then he made Brown Bunny. Well ... apparently he really needed a blow-job. That was real!!! All me! Just ask Chloe Sevigny. His recent rant defending the size and authenticity of his manhood has been all over the web. Like him or not. Vincent Gallo's tour de force is his website: http://www.vincentgallo.com/home.html

Better than ice cream sandwiches -- The official website of Vincent Gallo by Vincent Gallo.

Christmas is coming and some of your hard-to-buy-for friends might be satisfied with his original art work, clothing designs (including super cute tube-tops and mini-skirts in size small with his appliqués and signature attached -- "Property of Vincent Gallo"). He's also selling t-shirts, posters, cds, dates and sperm. Wait a minute, now. Dates and sperm?

http://www.vgmerchandise.com/store/pages.php?pageid=4

If you've got the money honey, he's apparently got the time. Ladies only, lesbos welcome. For the modest fee of $50,000 plus expenses Vincent will fulfill the wish, dream, or fantasy of any naturally born female. Heavy set, older, red heads and even black chicks can have him if they can pay the bill. A full weekend: $100,000. And he's willing to donate as much sperm as it takes to get the job done. Again, if you've got the money.

Wow. Vincent takes the cake (so to speak). Actor, director, artist, musician, prostitute. For any of the above personal services a full scanning for STDs is required. As is proof of bathing and grooming. A detailed photo is required prior to any encounter. Seems reasonable.

At first I laughed at his brazen egotism. But, maybe he really does need the money. And do I really need the Homicide box set on my Xmas list? Or would something else really do the trick? How much is a bikini wax?

Ungebunden

2007-10-02T08:29:00.000-06:00

Full-Contact Wednesday?

2007-09-24T14:03:00.000-06:00

I've had a secret romance going on for some time now. Only a select few were informed. Perhaps fantasy is a better word. I'm not certain. But this past Saturday night I had my first taste. My first initiation into Roller Derby.

The Maine Roller Derby girls kicked some serious ass against the Pioneer Valley Roller Derby from Massachusetts and Jenabeat and I had front row seats. I didn't even know the rules until the bout started. Each bout is comprised of three 20-minute periods which are further broken down into jams which can last two-minutes or less. In a nut shell, each team has four Blockers and one Jammer. She's the girl who must come from behind and work her way through the rest of the girls, the blockers, to get to the front of the pack. If she makes it to the front first she scores a point. Make sense? It ain't easy. The blockers do just that - block.

But this is not some Raquel Welch exploitation flick from the 70s. We're not talking big tits and pulling hair. No one is intentionally hurting another girl for the pleasure of men. But they do have cool outfits and kick-ass names, thank goodness! (some of my favorite names from this bout: Miss Creant, Hot Hips Houlihan, Graceless Kelly, The Mom Bomb, and Hurt Vonnegut). They do wipe out and they do elbow each other around a lot. The best part -- these women are of all shapes and sizes and ages. They are serious but they are having fun. It was tremendously empowering to watch.

I met a bunch of the derby girls at a private party held at my bar months ago. And maybe I poured a wicked shot 'cause several of them implored me to join. Me!?

That little bug made a nest in my ear. I've been thinking about it. I saw a bout and now I'm really thinking about it. Am I insane?

ex libris

2007-09-21T14:49:00.000-06:00

Way #1489 That I'm Different Than Most Other Guys:

2007-09-17T23:24:00.000-06:00

So Duke City was all abuzz recently about the announcement that the movie version of Will Eisner's The Spirit was set to begin filming locally because--and I'm quoting the Trouble & Strife here--"we're actually going to get real movie stars." She was referring to the fact that while the film-making industry has been booming (no pun intended) here in New Mexico, most people didn't figure the cast of Wild Hogs or the overrated Little Miss Sunshine quite cut the mustard. So, who were the "real movie stars" she was referring to? Scarlett Johansson and Samuel L. Jackson.

Whatever.

I figure now is the best time to start a series that I've been mulling over for a while. It will be a compendium of the many ways I'm different from the MOGs*--sure, that's a little self congratulatory, but true none-the-less. So, without further ado:

#1489 - I Don't Find Scarlett Johansson Attractive

Really. Not at all. First off, I'm not into blondes. I think it's important that I go there quickly. Second off, she can't act her way out of a paperbag. Some of you will ask what her acting chops have to do with her attractiveness, and to be honest, I don't really have an answer for that, except to say that for me it does. Sure you can point out her "attributes", but around these parts it is all about junk in the trunk, not how you pack that rack (D-MOG #37). The kicker, though, the thing that bugs me most of all: Her abnormally structured face, in particular, the freakish distance between her eyes. Those things are practically on the sides of her head. I swear if you stood her on a corner, she could see down each block simultaneously. I can't even watch her on television or in a movie without thinking about this comic book characterYeah I know I'm in the minority, and you know I hear it when I admit this view to the MOGs, but I figure if she keeps releasing crap like The Nanny Diaries then some of that luster will wear off and I'll start finding a few new neighbors over here in the cheap seats.

*Most Other Guys. I figured you got it, but it never hurts to keep it real proper like.

Miscast?

2007-09-16T16:52:00.000-06:00

I had time on my hands at work last night. Nah, it wasn't very busy I'm sorry to report. The headliner band sucked and I wasn't in the mood to search for cockroaches. But then there's always tv. You can always find something on cable, right? Freedom of choice for $55 a month. But the game was over (our boys won), Emeril was on the foodnetwork and he's insufferable, Bravo had some flick with Sharon Stone (not Casino), CNN was all over the O.J. Simpson armed robber/book deal, Project Runway was a repeat, Animal Plant had the Crocodile Hunter's daughter boldly following in his footsteps (yawn), Larry King was talking to Ryan Seacrest about the Britney Spears debacle ... Is this what I choose from?

I clicked over to AMC hoping not to encounter some John Wayne Monument Valley saga. It was Batman. The Michael Keaton, Kim Basinger, Jack Nicholson Batman. I have to admit I had a lingering moment of glee. I'd seen this in the theater. A time killer if nothing else. What a disappointment! Perhaps it is that filmic technology has progessed so significantly in the last ten years or so but the film was dated. It looked old. Jack Nicholson's make-up was ridiculous. He looked like he may have actually been in pain wearing the prosthetics required for his Joker smile.Give it ten more years or so and Jack and the film may qualify for kitsch appeal. Pop in Faster Pussycat, Kill, Kill or Beyond The Valley of the Dolls. Have a cocktail. Enjoy your evening.

But the clincher was Michael Keaton. The man was not attractive. Not suave. Heck, I would ask for a license if he pulled up in a golf cart, let alone the Batmobile. If I'd have found the film stills I was hoping for you could check out his hair for yourself. Not good. This is as Bruce Wayne. Anyone can slip into the Batman suit with all the padding in the correct places (you know where I mean) and look powerful and manly. And that includes Val Kilmer -- he made for a far more believable Batman. But Michael Keaton as Batman was no Bruce Wayne. It just made me sad. I'm not sure if budget restraints or some lost bet led to Tim Burton casting Michael Keaton as Batman. But it was wrong.

Miscasting. I have many thoughts in my little head. I'm dying for someone/anyone to respond to a post. What actors/roles have been the most horridly miscast? Sophia Coppola in Godfather III is a cop-out.

New England Travels

2007-09-11T19:56:00.000-06:00

Way back in September, we spent time in New England (and that part of New England I'll call New Jersey) mostly visiting friends and family. We're not here to discuss any of that. We're here to discuss...

Roosevelt
Did you know that FDR married his cousin? Did you know that Eleanor (or Elanor or Elinor - we found it cited in all of these different ways) started a furniture factory in the 20's? All of these questions and many more were answered on our tour of Hyde Park, NY (where we ended up after not being terribly wow'ed by Woodstock). This town along the Hudson river is home to many estates including Roosevelt's and Vanderbilt's. If you are interested in the former president and/or the first lady, the tour and grounds are well worth the price of admission.

While you are in Hyde Park (and down the street from where you should be staying at the quaint Roosevelt Inn - free coffee and microwave popcorn!), there is a gem of a restaurant. We probably had one of the best meals ever (and that includes dining in New York, San Francisco, Washington DC and yes Albuquerque (think Jennifer James who used to be Graze but now is at Chef Du Jour) at a restaurant called Twist. The chef and sous chefs are from the Culinary Institute of America which is located nearby and you'll be glad they did not make the trip to one of the eating cities. The food was just good basic ingredients put together in delectable ways. It is also small and intimate enough that the chef came out and chatted us up. We had a cold salad made from a variety of inseason heirloom tomatoes as an appetizer along with cheesy bread twists. The entrees (steak for me, chicken for my gf) were perfectly cooked with not too much sauce or accoutrement. For desert, I had a homemade chocolate chip cookie which you wouldn't normally associate with fine dining but it was the perfect finisher (along with the port, naturally).

A Swell Change of Pace

2007-09-09T15:48:00.000-06:00

"I don't know what's going to happen if they begin to let women in baseball. Of course, they will never make good. Why? Because they are too delicate. It would kill them to play ball every day." -Babe Ruth
Yes, one of the greatest baseball players of all time was a sexist ... but he would come to eat those words. When Babe Ruth went down on strikes in an exhibition game in Chattanooga in 1931, it was at the hand of a pitcher derided as a freak. Just a little girl! Sports is a kingdom of men. Always has been. Always will be?

"The Yankees will meet a club here that has a girl pitcher named Jackie Mitchell, who has a swell change of pace and swings a mean lipstick. I suppose that in the next town the Yankees enter they will find a squad that has a female impersonator in left field, a sword swallower at short, and a trained seal behind the plate. Times in the South are not only tough but silly." Source: The New York Daily News (April 2, 1931)
That pitcher, that lipstick swinger, was teenage left-hander Jackie Mitchell, one of the most talented female hurlers ever to take the mound, and a pioneer for women in the sport, despite being run out of professional baseball just as her career was starting. She was signed to the Southern Association AA Chattanooga Lookouts at just 17-years-old. And in April of that same year, the mighty New York Yankees stopped by for an exhibition game.

Lookouts manager Bert Niehoff initially started the game with Clyde Barfoot, but after he surrendered a double and a single, the signal was sent out for Jackie Mitchell. Imagine the expressions on the Yankees' faces when the rookie southpaw (in a custom-made baggy white uniform) stepped up on to the mound to face their team. Even worse, imagine the pressure she endured, as the first batter of her baseball career was none other than the "Sultan of Swat" Babe Ruth!

Mitchell's pitching arsenal consisted of only one pitch - a dropping curve ball known as a "sinker" and she used it like no other ace had before (or after). A grinning Bambino took ball one, and then swung at (and missed) the next two. Jackie's fourth pitch caught the corner of the plate for a called-strike infuriating an embarrassed Ruth who promptly threw his bat and stomped back into the Yankees' dugout. For a healthy swig of rye, I suspect.

Next up was none-other than "The Iron Horse" Lou Gehrig who followed the Babe's lead and swung at three in a row for "K" number two. Mitchell had blown away two of the greatest sluggers even to don the pinstripes. God, I wish I'd been there. After a standing ovation, she walked Tony Lazzeri and was pulled in favor of the returning Barfoot. Despite her historical performance on the mound, the Yankees went on to win the contest 14-4.

A few days later, Baseball Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis voided Mitchell's contract, claiming that baseball was "too strenuous" for a woman. It was a gross injustice and an obvious ploy to curb the embarrassment of their bruised male egos. MLB formally banned the signing of women to contracts on June 21, 1952.

It is now 76 years since Jackie Mitchell struck out Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig in her first (and last) outing as a pitcher. And 55 years have passed since MLB banned women in the sport. Have those delicate (to use Babe Ruth's term) male egos not healed yet? What could they possibly be afraid of? And would the sport become less competitive or just less exclusive if women were allowed to compete? If I had the stuff to strike out Derek Jeter ... Aw, c'mon, put me in coach!

You Don't Like Words ... But Are You Hungry?

2007-09-04T14:42:00.000-06:00

I saw an ad for this food product on tv the other day. I knew by its cringe-worthy, derivative name that this could be lucrative fodder for a rant. It practically demanded it. Christ, super-sized consumer consumption at its most decadent. A Busby Berkeley spectacle made of beef. If anyone wonders why the U. S. of A. suffers from the pandemonium of obesity, heart disease, high cholesterol, diabetes etc. Check it out:

Just six strips of bacon atop two beef patties. Add two slices of American cheese, mayo, ketchup and a bun. God bless America.

But, hey, I'm feeling pretty hungry. So one Baconator ain't gonna cut it. I'll also have a small fries and a large coke. Please. What's the damage?

Calories: 1450
Fat: 67 grams
Saturated fat: 24 grams
Carbohydrates: 155 grams
Sodium 2270 grams
Sugar 87 grams

Shoud I add a Broccoli & Cheese Potato or a Vanilla Frosty? I might still have a little room ... Or would I like to eat for the rest of the week? Fuck the RDA, I'll just have a Happy Meal later on. I'm short, they'll never know.

I'm really not going to rant here ... or have I already? I'll just let the facts speak for themselves. Investigate if you don't believe me. I feel the need to step out for a smoke just now.

http://www.wendys.com/food/Product.jsp?family=1&product=4

I Like That Word

2007-09-03T13:40:00.000-06:00

I've had a list going for a very long time titled Some of My Favorite Words. It's just a dog-eared scrap of a paper which I fold into my notebook to refer to from time to time. Some words are crossed off with a different spelling added in a different pen ink. Others are deleted entirely. Some have partial meanings scribbled in the margins. Or include an asterisk* which refers me to a reason for its inclusion, the moment in time I've decided upon this word, or the way in which I came across it. This often entails some personal recollection. A word like "irregardless" would have an asterisk referring me to my awful Algebra 2 teacher, Mr. Parker, who often used this word (as in "a x b + c - d = negative 5, irregardless of sign"). I'd be seated at my desk rolling my eyes, because "irregardless", regardless of anything you could ever tell me, is not a word. I don't care what your dictionary says. At my undergraduate school we celebrated the University's susquicentennial, that calls for an asterisk (to save you time, it means the 150 year anniversary). However, most of the words on my list I enjoy because their pronunciations just tickle me or roll off the tongue so freely or because they do not roll off the tongue in any pleasurable way whatsoever. The meaning of the word is not necessarily a factor in my listing. Susurrus is simply beautiful in meaning and sound. As is syzygy and mystery. Somnambulism, gallimaufry and brouhaha require the engagement of a few more muscles to voice. But it is so well worth the effort. Pajamas is easy to say and are easy to wear.

Apparently, I am not the only one out there with lists of words squirreled away in a notebook. I'm not sure if I am relieved to learn this or a bit unnerved, but post your favorite words here for our few Latent readers or check out the numerous other sites which are devoted to this very specific subject. My favorite My Favorite Word site promises to post the best entries before publishing a book on the subject http://www.myfavoriteword.com/index.html. If you are like me and refer to your dictionaries quite frequently, you'll be engaged for some time.

*on my list of favorite words.

Albuquerque

2007-08-31T10:04:00.001-06:00

Oh Fair New Mexico

2007-08-30T20:20:00.000-06:00

I've been meaning to post for a while but well I'm not much of a blogger I guess. This is a two parter: one part film and one part travel.

This summer I've had the excellent fortune to go to several parts of the state that aren't normally on people's itinerary. A few of them stand out that I thought people should know about. Fort Sumner is a gem. My g.f. and I went camping at Sumner Lake and while it was pretty noisy from the motorized action across the lake, where we were it was beautiful. The primitive camping was well worth the scrapes to the underbody of the trusty Honda and the lake was incredibly refreshing. But the real score was Bosque Redondo outside of Fort Sumner. This is where the cavalry forced the Navajo and Mescalero Apache to march to where thousands died from the march or from the camp. This story is a story we should all know.

Oh and Billy the Kid's "grave" is in Fort Sumner.

The other place is Mesilla, NM, which is essentially old Las Cruces. This little plaza is fairly nondescript having recently been renovated after years of neglect. There's a little museum though that should be opening soon (part of my job was to visit it while they were setting it up). Like Bosque Redondo, this is a new mexico state monument and should make you a little happier about your tax dollars! This monument is well worth a visit, particularly if John Paul Taylor or one of his family takes you on a tour. It is a time capsule of New Mexico from the beginnings of Las Vegas, NM, and the territorial government.

The film part of this episode is a pitch for Imprint (which has a very cheesy website). This movie is made on the Pine Ridge reservation and it is a great thriller with some cool low budget effects and a twist. They are not going to distribute it widely so ask the Guild or the independent movie theater in your home town to try to get it. I saw it at the CCA here in Santa Fe.

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2007-08-30T14:00:00.000-06:00

A friend told me about a cool website. Actually, I met up with her a few days ago to catch up after her summer spent teaching English to children in Japan. Seems they spent much of their time sightseeing and bar hopping (not with the children ...). She recounted her adventures in Japan, asked about my adventures (well ... nothing new, really) and then jumped head first into everything there is to know about her current boyfriend, a painter. He's struggling but so talented. Especially his city scapes. You've got to check them out. Go to Etsy, he's selling some pieces there. http://www.etsy.com/index.php

Etsy touts itself as "Your place to buy and sell all things handmade". And it really is just that. On Etsy you can buy or sell art, bags and purses, books and zines, ceramics and pottery, clothing, jewelry, glass, furniture and all manner of unique, handmade items. Jenabeat could sell the magnificent pillows she makes, if she were so inclined. Perhaps you've all been hip to Etsy for some time and I'm just a newbie. I clicked around there for about ten minutes and recommend checking it out. Especially if you're a backer of small-time, uncelebrated artists (you won't find Andy Warhol or Thomas Kincaid here) and don't have a bundle to spend. I found just one drawback.

It took me about forty-five minutes to sign up and log on to the blasted site. Why? Every username I thought of and felt happy with was already taken. My old tried and trues were not available. Crazy. If you're like me you use the same few names over and over on various sites. They're easy to remember and you just get used to them. And maybe I care a little too much about something as trivial as a user name. I like to feel some connection to the word. I can't explain it ... but thought goes into it. But these damn artsy types had everything covered. And I thought I was being smart and clever. Bah. Some potential usernames I tried, in no particular order:

Iris
Sidecar
Wednesday
Pandora
Carolina
Laika
Capricorn
MacKenzie
Zephyr
Palindrome
Nora Charles
Anaphora
Doppelganger
Katydid
Nancy Drew
Cardamom

I finally keyed in Pennyweight for no particular reason other than liking the sound of it. Lo and behold, it was available and my account was created. But, honestly, who are these people? Anaphora? She's on there somewhere selling her wares and I will damn well investigate for myself. And what would have happened if I'd chosen the user name Mary straight off? I'd have saved alot of time I suspect.

Is This What It's Come To?

2007-08-30T08:36:00.000-06:00

No posts for over a week? No photographs or puzzles or sly understated slices of the human condition? No found photos or grumpy ramblings or self-aware pop culture extravaganzas? What has happened to the LATENT crew?

I confess I have been the biggest slacker, but that's how things roll for me. It was a miracle that I was ever able to keep unframed running as long as I did. But, I'd like to issue a challenge to mi gente here at LATENT to get themselves off the mat, to shake off the dust, to get their heads in the game *and* keep this site alive.

And I promise that as long as they do, I will make sure to go back and capitalize every title and stylistically modify their postings to give LATENT a uniform look, as well as make sure every post has a label.

No Rhyme Or Reason

2007-08-21T15:33:00.000-06:00

Sorry, I just love puzzles and I can't help myself. Another poser for anyone who also has this disease.

The words RAID and SAID end in the same three letters, but they don't rhyme with each other. Can you name a third, uncapitalized word which also happens to end in -AID that doesn't rhyme with the other two?