i think the honking of scooter horns is going to haunt my dreams for awhile. the traffic noise of new york city is nothing compared to the constant haranguing of horns. this place is like a perpetual shriner's parade, with fleets of scooters having took over the streets. the whole world rides scooters here, and in order to cross the street, even at lights and crosswalks, you take a little bit of your life in your hands trying to navigate around them. anarchy rules hanoi, and no where is it more prevalent then getting from one side of the road to another. when we first arrived, we made maddening dashes across, scooters and taxis bearing down on us as we shrieked and ran. but you get used to it, and soon learn to stroll out and make it across "frogger" style. two steps forward, one to the left, three ahead, one back...
if hong kong was asia lite, then vietnam is a foreign country intensive. immediately after exiting the airplane, you can tell this ain't a country to mess around. the communist guards give you beady stares as you walk the tarmac to customs, you don't want to go to jail here. i think this is the exact sort of thing my mother worries about when i travel. after you pass through to the main section of the airport, it is insanity, with mobs upon mobs of people crushing forward to embrace relatives newly arriving to the country. although it is a great sentiment, it feels fairly oppressing, being an american with a overtly-sensitive sense of personal space, these people push into you, grab past you and generally act as if you're an inanimate object. although its not scary, its a bit unpleasant and certainly overwhelming first few moments in a new country.
after realizing from the exchange rate - $100,000 VD (Vietnamese Dongs) = $6 USD - made us multi-millionaires, we tried to find a taxi, a legal taxi, to take us to our hotel. a half hour ride through rice fields and countless towns with thin, high, five storied colonial style houses, all painted bright colors, yet most tarnished by years of neglect. we found out later in a guide book that vietnamese used to be taxed on the width of their home, so they built them narrow and high. soon after leaving the airport, we noticed a few scooters surrounding our taxi, but he beeped at them and passed them. we were going about 50mph and it was difficult for them to keep up. but as we hit central hanoi (still no where near our hotel) it seemed like there were 12 scooters for every car, and 70% of the cars were taxis. and no one followed any sort of rules of the road. people made lefts from the right lane, cutting off 10 people, crossing over sidewalks, on sidewalks, just general mass hysteria. it was amazing there were no accidents, we saw about 10 near-misses just heading from the airport.
the sofitel metropole is in the center of old hanoi, just two blocks from the hoam kiem lake, also at center of old hanoi. this hotel was built in 1901 and its the epitome of posh. marble floors, oak paneling, and chandeliers as far as the eye could see, it felt like we were in some movie set. WE were staying HERE?! we checked in, dumped our stuff in the fancy room and set off to explore.
i was somewhat shell shocked, having realized i had never actually been in a foreign country without a native guide, and now walking around in someplace so far from any previous point of reference to me, i was just to overwhelmed to react. thankfully, todd, having just spent time in indonesia and turkey, took charge. he led us down the streets to try and find our way around. we were the only anglos around, and provoked both stares and lots of offerings. women walked by with a yokes on their shoulders and two baskets on either end, filled with a variety of offerings, including fruit, vegetables and various other food. some westerns must enjoy taking pictures wearing what constitutes as their livelihood, because many of them kept trying to just place the yokes on tara and my shoulders. i started what would become our main form of communication on this trip, saying, "no, no thank you, no!" while waving my right hand in a low "no" back and forth gesture. this photo opportunity was not the only thing we were offered. guidebooks, postcards, lighters, dolls, shirts, scooter rides, rickshaw rides, taxi rides, donuts were also proffered, and the seller was typically insistent, a bit forceful, and i little too familiar.
i hated that i was so caught off guard, disappointed with myself for getting flustered, trying not to stare at the plates of the vietnamese clustered on little stools every five feet, sitting on the sidewalk, eating cuisine cooked on kettles and barbecues directly next to them. webber had been kind enough to give me instructions on which of the famous vietnamese street food to eat, but i was way to chicken to break into these circles. i wondered, bemused, where my sense of adventure had dissapeared to as i watched women itch their feet, then add rice noodles to a pot, or rinse off a just used plate with water from a street faucet to serve another serving. i guess i'm a spoiled westerner, but i just couldn't do it. later on, we read on our guide book about the tap water in hanoi causing some westerners to have, ehem, "the world fall out of their bottem" so i wasn't too upset with my decision.
at one point we paused to try and catch our bearings and this old lady came up to me and started admonishing me in vietnamese. not yelling, but not friendly. she spoke rapidly at me and kept touching my shoulder bag. of course, i had no idea what she was upset about and could do nothing but just stand there. as we walked past rows of appliance "stores" basically interiors, no fronts, with dishwashers and stereos stacked inside and "mechanics" -- store interiors with seven guys pulling apart pieces of motorbikes, navigating around rows and rows of scooters parked on the sidewalk, i was stunned with the worlds apart this was from me. i've never visited the slums of any foreign country before, but this wasn't the slum, it was the central part of a major city. this was their life.
we visited the temple on the lake, and tara decided to rest up, so todd and i walked her back to the hotel, then set out to explore more. i was still somewhat nervous, and we decided to just hit one of the bar balconies surrounding one of the main intersections by the lake. it was sponsored by legends beer, and their "weisen" had a faint pineapple aftertaste which refreshed in this muggy 90degree F heat. we watched the scooter brigades go by, and more importantly, watching the locals cross six lanes of traffic. ok, THAT's how they do it. we realized that the "parting of the red sea" mentality needed to be employed in the future. todd and i caught up on people we knew and things going on, and people watched the scooters. you could tell which scooters were "big pimpin" and which were laggin. the gasoline and pollution was palatable here, so lots of people wore surgical masks, many in designer (burberry!) patterns and colors. around 5pm we started seeing whole families riding by, a baby standing in between the handlebars in front, followed by a man driving, with another kid sitting between him and his wife at the back. schoolkids in uniform drove by three on a scooter, and there must have been a sale on toilet paper somewhere because we saw countless people driving by with Costco worthy palates on their scooter.
fortified with some beers, i finally calmed down and was able to enjoy the walk back to the hotel. we tried a local place for dinner, by local, it was pretty much the same atmosphere and service you'd expect from any tourist town. the staff of teenagers laughing and hanging out with each other and basically ignoring the guests, which seeing that, bridged some of the culture gap, and we still had a decent meal, if one that required a little prodding. (who forgets to serve rice in vietnam?!) we retired to the bamboo bar at the pool at our fancy hotel, and enjoyed some cocktails. two more days in hanoi.
(huy is a city in the middle of vietnam, pronounced "way" - i learned how to make springrolls in huy-style but that's another story...)
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
and i forgot... (an add on to four)
there is this huge outdoor escalator, from the bottom (near the water) of central to the "mid-levels" the apartments for well, i guess mid-levels. its fun to take and beats the crap out of walking up 90 degree angle streets.
we passed a chalk board for a greek restaurant serving, "pan fried baby" and cracked the eff up. of course, the next line said, "lamb with carrots" but i mean, come on, they couldn't put "baby lamb" on one line.
little five month "mo" in tara's tummy was all, "no mommy no, don't eat the baby...!!" kickin up a storm as we cried with laughter.
the launguage gap, endless sources of amusement.
we passed a chalk board for a greek restaurant serving, "pan fried baby" and cracked the eff up. of course, the next line said, "lamb with carrots" but i mean, come on, they couldn't put "baby lamb" on one line.
little five month "mo" in tara's tummy was all, "no mommy no, don't eat the baby...!!" kickin up a storm as we cried with laughter.
the launguage gap, endless sources of amusement.
my, what big OMMMM you have - vacation notes four
the biggest sitting buddha in the world is on an island in hong kong. and its crazy big. so big, that people tell you its the biggest buddha and you're all, "yeh, ok, i get it, its the biggest." and you know its going to be the biggest, and you're expecting the buddha to be, well, big. but then you see it in the distance, when you're suspended about 1,000 feet in the air in an aerial tram hung between two mountains, and the damn thing DOMINATES the skyline and even from three mountains away its like, "my lord is that a big buddha!"
which does nothing to damper the surprised when you've climbed up 70 billion (exaggeration) stairs to stand at the foot of the buddha, and you realize the both of you could fit in one of the outstretched hand, and its like, blocking the sun, and once again you just marvel in how DAMN BIG THIS BUDDHA IS. its that big. fo' real.
what was also disconcerting is that this buddha was only completed in 1996, its not ancient and was probably designed to get chinese and tourist money alike, but its pretty crazy and super worth it, so, so what.
after the buddha tara and i took the amazingly clean and fast subway back to central town, and wandered around. this is what you think of when you see hong kong in movies, etc. a billion balconies with laundry and signs, signs just EVERYWHERE, shops, little cobblestone side streets, scooters, vegetable stands, restaurants, weird shops selling roots in jars and for some reason, an amazing amount of Seven11s. Weird. but amazing. i walked around like the people i hate in new york city -- slack jawed and staring up at it all with wonder.
we went to this cuban place for drinks, well, i drank, tara had a virgin daiquiri. funny thing in hong kong, i have been begging the latini's to go for asian food. i guess it would be like if they came to new york city and wanted to go to diners. i really could eat asian cuisine every single day, and have been laying off for the past few weeks in anticipation, and although they have promised to take me to their fave chinese place and for dim sum, i want more! we went for thai tonight and it was excellent.
tomorrow morning early, as most of you are leaving work today, we get on a plane for hanoi, and i plan on partaking in the tradition of pho for breakfast. we're also set to take a cooking class while there, so i am going to come back prepared to cook my own! lucky pete...
after dinner the three of us went and got a private room at happy feet, which is a foot reflexology place. my feet, are, very happy. apparently the foot is supposed to control all your organs, and the calculated massage makes your body happy too. no, not in that way, but i did tell her to take extra care of my liver. i heard the beer in vietnam rocks.
xx
which does nothing to damper the surprised when you've climbed up 70 billion (exaggeration) stairs to stand at the foot of the buddha, and you realize the both of you could fit in one of the outstretched hand, and its like, blocking the sun, and once again you just marvel in how DAMN BIG THIS BUDDHA IS. its that big. fo' real.
what was also disconcerting is that this buddha was only completed in 1996, its not ancient and was probably designed to get chinese and tourist money alike, but its pretty crazy and super worth it, so, so what.
after the buddha tara and i took the amazingly clean and fast subway back to central town, and wandered around. this is what you think of when you see hong kong in movies, etc. a billion balconies with laundry and signs, signs just EVERYWHERE, shops, little cobblestone side streets, scooters, vegetable stands, restaurants, weird shops selling roots in jars and for some reason, an amazing amount of Seven11s. Weird. but amazing. i walked around like the people i hate in new york city -- slack jawed and staring up at it all with wonder.
we went to this cuban place for drinks, well, i drank, tara had a virgin daiquiri. funny thing in hong kong, i have been begging the latini's to go for asian food. i guess it would be like if they came to new york city and wanted to go to diners. i really could eat asian cuisine every single day, and have been laying off for the past few weeks in anticipation, and although they have promised to take me to their fave chinese place and for dim sum, i want more! we went for thai tonight and it was excellent.
tomorrow morning early, as most of you are leaving work today, we get on a plane for hanoi, and i plan on partaking in the tradition of pho for breakfast. we're also set to take a cooking class while there, so i am going to come back prepared to cook my own! lucky pete...
after dinner the three of us went and got a private room at happy feet, which is a foot reflexology place. my feet, are, very happy. apparently the foot is supposed to control all your organs, and the calculated massage makes your body happy too. no, not in that way, but i did tell her to take extra care of my liver. i heard the beer in vietnam rocks.
xx
Sunday, May 13, 2007
asia lite - vacation notes three
the sheets here all smell like sandalwood. a familiar smell but not one associated with western sheets. a good metaphor for hong kong. its neither overwhelmingly asian, as i first expected, nor completely westernized, but rather somewhere in between. since the city is about to celebrate its 10th anniversary as part of china, it makes sense that centuries of english rule would have this affect on the country.
they drive on the opposite side of the road from the us (thanks jenny!) but unlike the metropolitan of london, they careen up a curving, one-way in each direction cliff side road cut into the mountain. all signs are written in both english and Cantonese. although most people are chinese, there are a fair amount of americans, british and europeans, but perhaps that is because we've been hitting fairly common tourist sights so far.
i had a moment or so of panic when my plane arrived way before tara and todd latini (affectionately know as "TL squared" or "TL2") expected, and once passing through customs i kinda wandered around the arrival area, wondering what exactly i should do. i had gotten confused about my arrival times, what if they had read the schedule wrong? without a cell phone, i needed to try and call her on a pay phone, but i didn't' have any local currency. so i visited a atm, only to receive $500 bills, hong kong dollars. so now i needed to find a way to transform these into a phone card or change. after talking to three visitor stations i was firmly directed to the correct place, and thankfully ran into tara and todd on the way. but felt better that if i had to, i probably could have gotten myself into hong kong proper solo, and had them meet me there.
the hong kong express from the airport takes you past chinese diseyland (i forget there was one here!) and some of the former outposts for the Beijing olympics, and into central hong kong in under twenty minutes. i was only in central hong kong for a few minutes as we zipped up the mountain to "the peak" where TL2, and most transplants, live. cabs are super cheap here, in fact, after london, everything seems super cheap here. the latini household, however, looks expensive. the wood floors are so shiny they could be mirrors, and about every window of their huge three bedroom (plus live-in maid quarters!) has spectacular views of the water. their main balcony overlooks the central part of central town, and its such a off putting feeling to be looking down on towering skyscrapers. manhattan looks tiny compared to this place. the international finance center (see "tomb raider 2") towers over everything else, which are all auspicious in daylight but kind of whimsical at night, where they seem to compete for the "silliest light show on the side of a building" award.
after dropping off my stuff and changing into attire appropriate for 85 degrees F and humid, tara and i head off to stanley, a shopping area located on the water half way across the island, near repulse bay. it stands to mention, that stanley was named after the prodigious lord stanley, yes THAT one, who would have been happy to hear of ottowa's victory last night. again, the cab raced around the precipitous curves of the mountains, wrong side of the road, which is not only a bit frightening but also Nassau inducing. a 25 minute cab ride there, it should be noted, cost about US$8. i shopped like an award winner, and managing to only spend about US$140. i loved looking at the money in my bank account at the atm here, since it gives your balance in HK$ and looks like much more then it actually is!
this could be very dangerous.
today i'm going to visit the biggest outdoor buddha in the world. ommmmm....
xx
they drive on the opposite side of the road from the us (thanks jenny!) but unlike the metropolitan of london, they careen up a curving, one-way in each direction cliff side road cut into the mountain. all signs are written in both english and Cantonese. although most people are chinese, there are a fair amount of americans, british and europeans, but perhaps that is because we've been hitting fairly common tourist sights so far.
i had a moment or so of panic when my plane arrived way before tara and todd latini (affectionately know as "TL squared" or "TL2") expected, and once passing through customs i kinda wandered around the arrival area, wondering what exactly i should do. i had gotten confused about my arrival times, what if they had read the schedule wrong? without a cell phone, i needed to try and call her on a pay phone, but i didn't' have any local currency. so i visited a atm, only to receive $500 bills, hong kong dollars. so now i needed to find a way to transform these into a phone card or change. after talking to three visitor stations i was firmly directed to the correct place, and thankfully ran into tara and todd on the way. but felt better that if i had to, i probably could have gotten myself into hong kong proper solo, and had them meet me there.
the hong kong express from the airport takes you past chinese diseyland (i forget there was one here!) and some of the former outposts for the Beijing olympics, and into central hong kong in under twenty minutes. i was only in central hong kong for a few minutes as we zipped up the mountain to "the peak" where TL2, and most transplants, live. cabs are super cheap here, in fact, after london, everything seems super cheap here. the latini household, however, looks expensive. the wood floors are so shiny they could be mirrors, and about every window of their huge three bedroom (plus live-in maid quarters!) has spectacular views of the water. their main balcony overlooks the central part of central town, and its such a off putting feeling to be looking down on towering skyscrapers. manhattan looks tiny compared to this place. the international finance center (see "tomb raider 2") towers over everything else, which are all auspicious in daylight but kind of whimsical at night, where they seem to compete for the "silliest light show on the side of a building" award.
after dropping off my stuff and changing into attire appropriate for 85 degrees F and humid, tara and i head off to stanley, a shopping area located on the water half way across the island, near repulse bay. it stands to mention, that stanley was named after the prodigious lord stanley, yes THAT one, who would have been happy to hear of ottowa's victory last night. again, the cab raced around the precipitous curves of the mountains, wrong side of the road, which is not only a bit frightening but also Nassau inducing. a 25 minute cab ride there, it should be noted, cost about US$8. i shopped like an award winner, and managing to only spend about US$140. i loved looking at the money in my bank account at the atm here, since it gives your balance in HK$ and looks like much more then it actually is!
this could be very dangerous.
today i'm going to visit the biggest outdoor buddha in the world. ommmmm....
xx
what a bunch of monarchy - vacation notes two
this wing of heathrow is a ghost town. gates 39-56 in the new terminal take 15 minutes to walk to from security. and now i sit waiting in front of gate 52, a mere hour before my scheduled hong kong boarding time and i'm completely, utterly alone. like, "night of the comet", "28 days later," alone. this is a beautiful change from the rest of heathrow which gives off the ambiance and sordidness of las vegas, only with more disorganization, more children and no gambling. at least, that i am aware of, in this airport, i wouldn't be too surprised if there were a back room poker den. high end shopping and liquor are everywhere, lights and noise, SO much noise. even through my ipod i can hear it.
then, right past the 1970's high-design corduroy walls of gate 38, the old terminal gives way to the new, wall open up to 24' high banks of windows on both sides, a monument of modern glass and steel. crystal cantilevered walkways shuttle out arrivals overhead as not to disturb those waiting to leave the country below. except for right now, there is no one to disturb but me. alone in the neat rows of eames inspired chairs, watching airplanes pull up and disappear through puffy clouds...
today i was able to visit kensington castle and eat at pizza express before i headed to the airport. the castle was permanent resident for some of the royals, and summer residence to most for awhile. before london spread to kensington, it was in the country and king george the first resided there for some time. much of the castle is off limits (apparently some crusty old monarchs still live ther!) but many of the ornate, ostentatious rooms are available for public viewing. the "tour" walks you through the process of gaining audience with the king, and although it seems like much nonsense in modern times, surrounded by such marble and gilt, the mind naturally turns to donald trump.
is he not the monarch of the united states, for all intents and purposes? he's got a lot of money, everyone knows him, his lavish, showy tastes are well documented, and he has no real power (over the economy or anything else, "apprentice" castmates aside) in the country, but still commands unwarranted respect and gentle mocking? quite frightening.
also in the castle were the last photographs taken of princess diana prior to her death by mario testino. these also juxtapose the difference between the formality of the throne and us commoners, as the relaxed, carefree pictures of diana laughing and grinning, slumped next to a couch on the floor, hands on hips, were said to represent her final transformation after her separation. although some originally appeared in vanity fair, many were new to the world. i was surprised how much i was impressed by then, i'd never really been one to follow her career path, but my sister and i discussed how vivid the memory was of being woken up by my mother at age seven or such, to watch the royal wedding on television. so perhaps, subconsciously, she has always had some importance in my life.
as i finish typing this a swarm of filipinos have taken over the area surrounding gate 52 and interrupted my quiet moment. probably for the better, no use rhapsodizing about the royals any further. amazingly enough, they seem to all be destined for hong kong, and it looks like i might be the only american on this plane. hmm. another first for me...
xx
then, right past the 1970's high-design corduroy walls of gate 38, the old terminal gives way to the new, wall open up to 24' high banks of windows on both sides, a monument of modern glass and steel. crystal cantilevered walkways shuttle out arrivals overhead as not to disturb those waiting to leave the country below. except for right now, there is no one to disturb but me. alone in the neat rows of eames inspired chairs, watching airplanes pull up and disappear through puffy clouds...
today i was able to visit kensington castle and eat at pizza express before i headed to the airport. the castle was permanent resident for some of the royals, and summer residence to most for awhile. before london spread to kensington, it was in the country and king george the first resided there for some time. much of the castle is off limits (apparently some crusty old monarchs still live ther!) but many of the ornate, ostentatious rooms are available for public viewing. the "tour" walks you through the process of gaining audience with the king, and although it seems like much nonsense in modern times, surrounded by such marble and gilt, the mind naturally turns to donald trump.
is he not the monarch of the united states, for all intents and purposes? he's got a lot of money, everyone knows him, his lavish, showy tastes are well documented, and he has no real power (over the economy or anything else, "apprentice" castmates aside) in the country, but still commands unwarranted respect and gentle mocking? quite frightening.
also in the castle were the last photographs taken of princess diana prior to her death by mario testino. these also juxtapose the difference between the formality of the throne and us commoners, as the relaxed, carefree pictures of diana laughing and grinning, slumped next to a couch on the floor, hands on hips, were said to represent her final transformation after her separation. although some originally appeared in vanity fair, many were new to the world. i was surprised how much i was impressed by then, i'd never really been one to follow her career path, but my sister and i discussed how vivid the memory was of being woken up by my mother at age seven or such, to watch the royal wedding on television. so perhaps, subconsciously, she has always had some importance in my life.
as i finish typing this a swarm of filipinos have taken over the area surrounding gate 52 and interrupted my quiet moment. probably for the better, no use rhapsodizing about the royals any further. amazingly enough, they seem to all be destined for hong kong, and it looks like i might be the only american on this plane. hmm. another first for me...
xx
Friday, May 11, 2007
man can not live on crisps alone - vacation notes one
so far, my vacation has not been the typical english experience, which is exactly what i had though it would be. in fact, kensington, my sister's 'hood, reminds me distinctly of blythe and carl's neighborhood in washington dc. except for the driving backwards. and her super posh house. but perhaps it is because i'm a decade veteran of new york city, nothing seems as foreign here as it did last time i visited, back in college and shortly after college. even the people don't look altogether that different. and i should know, i've been bloody staring...
and eavesdropping. i'm quite good at it actually. most likely because most brits seem to think americans are so dumb that if i put a semi-blank expression on my face, they must think i'm mentally counting sheep or such, because they have the most personal conversations immediately in my vicinity. i'v already decided my favorite (favourite?!) words here are "grim" which should be used more often and "pardon" instead of "excuse me" which i will adopt back in the states.
yesterday i just caught up with my sister and did a little stroll around her neighborhood, had some cornish pasties (two of which - onion cheese and tomato - and - piri piri chicken - were good, the third - lamb and mint - rubbish!) and napped like a champion. i had this illusion the ambien i popped on the plane was going to cure me from any jetlag, and was kinda disappointed to find out i was affected like any normal person. i wasted a few hours sleeping, and promptly fell asleep close to 9pm. actually, i passed out on the couch way before then, but woke up to have some "take away" Lebanese food. good stuff.
i've been trying some unusual food stuffs here, like a scotch egg (hardboiled egg wrapped in sausage) but i've got to tip my hat to the brits and there love of crisps, aka potato chips. i know chewy has ruminated about this before, but its astounding how many flavors they have. ehem, flavours. roast chicken? steak and onions? baked ham! bacon and blue cheese! and those are just the meats!! yesterday i had feta, lemon and thyme crisps and today we tried farmhouse cheddar and chives. i don't know why the cheddar was "farmhouse" but it was good. with all the variations, you seriously could go on an all crisp diet, croak of heart failure, and die with a smile on your face.
if you were washing them down with what i feel is a genius invention that someone needs to get on top of the bureau of ATF to allow in america. from marks & spenser, fine purveyor of ready to eat foods and stuff, come cocktails in a can. whisky and soda, vodka and tonic, gin and tonic, margaritas. and not "made from malt liquor to taste like a cocktail, cocktails" honest to god liquor and mixer in a can. bless them. who's ever headed off to a house party and though, "hey, i don't feel like beer tonight?" instead of buying a bottle and mixers, wondering if the host has ice, etc, etc, a six pack of these puppies and you're ready to go! this makes up for a lot of english culture.
although, beyond shopping, i can't say i've immersed myself in too much culture. driving by royal albert hall doesn't count. today we visited the Tate Modern, which was pretty auspicious. i liked it a bunch. i've always been a huge fan of surrealism and dug all the dali, miro, magrite and ernst they had there. practically a whole wing! but some of the other stuff, interesting to look at, yet i just don't understand. someone, please, and i say this without malice or sarcasm, explain rothko to me. i just don't get it. why?
the building itself is special, its a converted power station and an amazing feat of architecture. the one souvenir i've bought so far is a book about the four Tate museums and how they were designed. can't wait to read it.
not to say i haven't bought anything. i purchased two pairs of shorts at the infamous "topshop" yesterday, and although i dug 'em both, the store seems like a sibling to "forever 21" nothing too special. i also got a few trinkets to take to folks back home, and this weird, tart, so unusual its good, jam made from gooseberry and coriander for myself at borough market.
borough market is the london equivalent of chelsea market. although there is a history there, it resides underneath the famous london bridge and has all sorts of cool corners and eaves, but its basically just lots of fresh produce, meats and cheeses. it all looked tempting but nothing so out of the ordinary that you couldn't get it at, well, chelsea market. but it was still enjoyable to wander around and taste bits of this and that, snap a lot of pictures of the artfully arranged food. i'm aiming to get the art of picture composition down prior to asia, so i'm snapping a lot of shots. even when i excuse myself with the "well, i'm a tourist so its ok"
the one place tonight that i did NOT feel like a tourist was the absolute, yes THAT absolute, ice bar. its basically a gimmicky spot for tourists and first-daters (my sis: "well how can you tell they're on a first date" me: "cause they look all awkward and are carrying flowers, no one brings flowers to a third date.") and one big advertisement for the ice hotel in sweden. home of absolute. you pay £30 to gain access to a 24'x24' room which has been chilled to below zero and rimmed with blocks of ice. and ice benches, ice tables, an ice bar, and they serve absolute drinks in glasses made of out ice. they give you these silver "capes" made out of fake fur on the inside and with mittens attached and let you loose. you're not allowed to stay for more then 45 minutes, and you must make reservations, but once the novelty wore off, and your fingers got numb, it was like, "ok, so... this is the ice bar. um, so can we go?!"
the drinks were crazy awful too. like, "absolute peppar, apple liquor and pineapple juice" no, i did not just make that up to give an example, that's actually what my brother-in-law drank. i picked something with absolute raspberry and blue curacao that didn't sound disgusting but it tasted like generic 'tussin. ick. the nice sancerre we had at dinner erased the taste, thankfully, and it went well with my duck i devoured, in honor of the game pending in the good ole usa. go wings.
tomorrow i leave for hong kong and will quite literally spend a day in the air. i take off saturday evening and arrive monday morning. kinda like a bender but without the alcohol. or, er, much alcohol.
cheerio good chaps! xxoo
and eavesdropping. i'm quite good at it actually. most likely because most brits seem to think americans are so dumb that if i put a semi-blank expression on my face, they must think i'm mentally counting sheep or such, because they have the most personal conversations immediately in my vicinity. i'v already decided my favorite (favourite?!) words here are "grim" which should be used more often and "pardon" instead of "excuse me" which i will adopt back in the states.
yesterday i just caught up with my sister and did a little stroll around her neighborhood, had some cornish pasties (two of which - onion cheese and tomato - and - piri piri chicken - were good, the third - lamb and mint - rubbish!) and napped like a champion. i had this illusion the ambien i popped on the plane was going to cure me from any jetlag, and was kinda disappointed to find out i was affected like any normal person. i wasted a few hours sleeping, and promptly fell asleep close to 9pm. actually, i passed out on the couch way before then, but woke up to have some "take away" Lebanese food. good stuff.
i've been trying some unusual food stuffs here, like a scotch egg (hardboiled egg wrapped in sausage) but i've got to tip my hat to the brits and there love of crisps, aka potato chips. i know chewy has ruminated about this before, but its astounding how many flavors they have. ehem, flavours. roast chicken? steak and onions? baked ham! bacon and blue cheese! and those are just the meats!! yesterday i had feta, lemon and thyme crisps and today we tried farmhouse cheddar and chives. i don't know why the cheddar was "farmhouse" but it was good. with all the variations, you seriously could go on an all crisp diet, croak of heart failure, and die with a smile on your face.
if you were washing them down with what i feel is a genius invention that someone needs to get on top of the bureau of ATF to allow in america. from marks & spenser, fine purveyor of ready to eat foods and stuff, come cocktails in a can. whisky and soda, vodka and tonic, gin and tonic, margaritas. and not "made from malt liquor to taste like a cocktail, cocktails" honest to god liquor and mixer in a can. bless them. who's ever headed off to a house party and though, "hey, i don't feel like beer tonight?" instead of buying a bottle and mixers, wondering if the host has ice, etc, etc, a six pack of these puppies and you're ready to go! this makes up for a lot of english culture.
although, beyond shopping, i can't say i've immersed myself in too much culture. driving by royal albert hall doesn't count. today we visited the Tate Modern, which was pretty auspicious. i liked it a bunch. i've always been a huge fan of surrealism and dug all the dali, miro, magrite and ernst they had there. practically a whole wing! but some of the other stuff, interesting to look at, yet i just don't understand. someone, please, and i say this without malice or sarcasm, explain rothko to me. i just don't get it. why?
the building itself is special, its a converted power station and an amazing feat of architecture. the one souvenir i've bought so far is a book about the four Tate museums and how they were designed. can't wait to read it.
not to say i haven't bought anything. i purchased two pairs of shorts at the infamous "topshop" yesterday, and although i dug 'em both, the store seems like a sibling to "forever 21" nothing too special. i also got a few trinkets to take to folks back home, and this weird, tart, so unusual its good, jam made from gooseberry and coriander for myself at borough market.
borough market is the london equivalent of chelsea market. although there is a history there, it resides underneath the famous london bridge and has all sorts of cool corners and eaves, but its basically just lots of fresh produce, meats and cheeses. it all looked tempting but nothing so out of the ordinary that you couldn't get it at, well, chelsea market. but it was still enjoyable to wander around and taste bits of this and that, snap a lot of pictures of the artfully arranged food. i'm aiming to get the art of picture composition down prior to asia, so i'm snapping a lot of shots. even when i excuse myself with the "well, i'm a tourist so its ok"
the one place tonight that i did NOT feel like a tourist was the absolute, yes THAT absolute, ice bar. its basically a gimmicky spot for tourists and first-daters (my sis: "well how can you tell they're on a first date" me: "cause they look all awkward and are carrying flowers, no one brings flowers to a third date.") and one big advertisement for the ice hotel in sweden. home of absolute. you pay £30 to gain access to a 24'x24' room which has been chilled to below zero and rimmed with blocks of ice. and ice benches, ice tables, an ice bar, and they serve absolute drinks in glasses made of out ice. they give you these silver "capes" made out of fake fur on the inside and with mittens attached and let you loose. you're not allowed to stay for more then 45 minutes, and you must make reservations, but once the novelty wore off, and your fingers got numb, it was like, "ok, so... this is the ice bar. um, so can we go?!"
the drinks were crazy awful too. like, "absolute peppar, apple liquor and pineapple juice" no, i did not just make that up to give an example, that's actually what my brother-in-law drank. i picked something with absolute raspberry and blue curacao that didn't sound disgusting but it tasted like generic 'tussin. ick. the nice sancerre we had at dinner erased the taste, thankfully, and it went well with my duck i devoured, in honor of the game pending in the good ole usa. go wings.
tomorrow i leave for hong kong and will quite literally spend a day in the air. i take off saturday evening and arrive monday morning. kinda like a bender but without the alcohol. or, er, much alcohol.
cheerio good chaps! xxoo
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Meet the new blog, same as the old blog...
i always said i would stay on myspace until it bit me in the ass. it actually never came to that, i just got bored as hell with the childish antics it brought out in everyone. in an attempt to salvage myself from the lame, i've moved all my older blog posts over to this space.
time permitting, i hope to keep it going and keep writing. of course, if my workload keeps up, i may wind up blogging about the need for deeper pools of liquidity in the global block trading marketplace.
but i'll try to keep it a little bit more topical.
time permitting, i hope to keep it going and keep writing. of course, if my workload keeps up, i may wind up blogging about the need for deeper pools of liquidity in the global block trading marketplace.
but i'll try to keep it a little bit more topical.
Sunday, January 7, 2007
Monday, October 16, 2006 - veuve cliequot and budwiser, duplicity rocks
for some reason, the common definition for duplicity has a bad connotation. but having duality does not necessarily mean you have ill intentions.
my life has always been a dichotomy. i like the i balance of not saying no to something because it seems to be the polar opposite of the majority of your personality. i find this to be a key to staying happy. how else do you temper a long, complicated day at the office then with a few hours of heavy duty partying?
thursday night was able to even turn my partying into a duplicitious event. after work i attended a reception honoring the iranian photographer/filmmaker shirin neshat. this woman has been endlessly praised for her questioning portrayal of women in islamic society, and her films, which they showed a few clips, were so visually powerful. i met her very briefly and even in her petite stature she was auspicious. i only knew a few other people there (and truth be told only liked one!) so, fueled by expensive champagne, i let the night carry me and had some lovely conversation with some interesting, avant-garde strangers. i spoke for a while with a very pregnant women who was half iranian and half french, she glowed in the proverbial way of those with child, with an accent so beautiful, her pronunciation of "camembert" sounded sexual. the reception was very refined, the kind of party which causes you to stand up straight and keep your head held high, and as i worked the room, sipping my veuve, i spotted a familiar shock of red hair across the room. no, not ms. BA miale, but someone about 30 years older, the saffron hue matching the exact shade of the fabric she had used in the gates in central park she and her husband had configured last year. it was christo and jean claude, who had so famously wrapped, curtained and screened landscapes all of the world and made millions of trillions of dollars doing it. i had to at least introduce myself.** christo was mute, but jean-claude of the bright red hair was gracious and fascinating. i actually said to her, "your achievement in central park was stunning, you must be quite proud"
yes, i can be quite refined when i chose to be. which is why my duplicity seems to be an asset.
i left the reception, got on a train to go back to brooklyn, where i had plans with yet another christo. quite the opposite of refined, we intended to watch the rangers game and play video games. ever since i saw the previews for "dead rising," where you play photojournalist trapped in a shopping mall for 72 hours with zombies, i have been dying (pun intended) to play.
you can kill the zombies with anything you can pick up. which is everything. my personal favorites have to be the chainsaw and dumbell, although the teddy bear and plastic food court chair were great fun. christo knew i was psyched for the game and we had planned to get together once he bought it and xbox 360-it up. we drank 16oz budwiser cans and watched hockey and played zombies. he also picked up NHY 2K7, so with the big screen playing the live game, we had our own little devils/rangers face off. he kicked my ass, but i didn't take that much offense, considering he has been playing for 15 years and i had been playing for 15 minutes.
as i was on my way home, the duplicity of my evening hit me. the transition from champagne to bud was blissfully easy. yet i had thoroughly enjoyed both. wasn't this the equivalent of having it all? fancy and lowbrow? high falutain and chill? with this sort of all encompassing viewpoint of life, how could duplicity be a bad thing.
this makes me recall one of my favorite days in new york city ever. for my friend chris bellotti's birthday, the two of went to dinner at three star restaurant mesa grill, followed by 7th row seats for World Wrestling Federation at the garden (where some 10 year old kid yelled at triple h that he was "hung like a mouse" which the stunned wrestler actually paused and you could see plain as day on his face how torn he was whether to go off on this peanut or not!) after screaming at the ring for two hours, chris went home and i preceeded to a cocktail party at alley sheedy's apartment, and finally to the wetlands for a friends concert. i remember not only being so happy for fitting it all in, but being happy i hadn't left anything, ANYTHING out. high brow/low brow/high brow/low brow suits me just fine.
i was actually most proud that i was able to find one single outfit to transcend all of those situations..
** the two people who i texted to excited tell i had met christo and jean-claude both responded with the same "our friend and van damme?" confused response. i love my friends.
my life has always been a dichotomy. i like the i balance of not saying no to something because it seems to be the polar opposite of the majority of your personality. i find this to be a key to staying happy. how else do you temper a long, complicated day at the office then with a few hours of heavy duty partying?
thursday night was able to even turn my partying into a duplicitious event. after work i attended a reception honoring the iranian photographer/filmmaker shirin neshat. this woman has been endlessly praised for her questioning portrayal of women in islamic society, and her films, which they showed a few clips, were so visually powerful. i met her very briefly and even in her petite stature she was auspicious. i only knew a few other people there (and truth be told only liked one!) so, fueled by expensive champagne, i let the night carry me and had some lovely conversation with some interesting, avant-garde strangers. i spoke for a while with a very pregnant women who was half iranian and half french, she glowed in the proverbial way of those with child, with an accent so beautiful, her pronunciation of "camembert" sounded sexual. the reception was very refined, the kind of party which causes you to stand up straight and keep your head held high, and as i worked the room, sipping my veuve, i spotted a familiar shock of red hair across the room. no, not ms. BA miale, but someone about 30 years older, the saffron hue matching the exact shade of the fabric she had used in the gates in central park she and her husband had configured last year. it was christo and jean claude, who had so famously wrapped, curtained and screened landscapes all of the world and made millions of trillions of dollars doing it. i had to at least introduce myself.** christo was mute, but jean-claude of the bright red hair was gracious and fascinating. i actually said to her, "your achievement in central park was stunning, you must be quite proud"
yes, i can be quite refined when i chose to be. which is why my duplicity seems to be an asset.
i left the reception, got on a train to go back to brooklyn, where i had plans with yet another christo. quite the opposite of refined, we intended to watch the rangers game and play video games. ever since i saw the previews for "dead rising," where you play photojournalist trapped in a shopping mall for 72 hours with zombies, i have been dying (pun intended) to play.
you can kill the zombies with anything you can pick up. which is everything. my personal favorites have to be the chainsaw and dumbell, although the teddy bear and plastic food court chair were great fun. christo knew i was psyched for the game and we had planned to get together once he bought it and xbox 360-it up. we drank 16oz budwiser cans and watched hockey and played zombies. he also picked up NHY 2K7, so with the big screen playing the live game, we had our own little devils/rangers face off. he kicked my ass, but i didn't take that much offense, considering he has been playing for 15 years and i had been playing for 15 minutes.
as i was on my way home, the duplicity of my evening hit me. the transition from champagne to bud was blissfully easy. yet i had thoroughly enjoyed both. wasn't this the equivalent of having it all? fancy and lowbrow? high falutain and chill? with this sort of all encompassing viewpoint of life, how could duplicity be a bad thing.
this makes me recall one of my favorite days in new york city ever. for my friend chris bellotti's birthday, the two of went to dinner at three star restaurant mesa grill, followed by 7th row seats for World Wrestling Federation at the garden (where some 10 year old kid yelled at triple h that he was "hung like a mouse" which the stunned wrestler actually paused and you could see plain as day on his face how torn he was whether to go off on this peanut or not!) after screaming at the ring for two hours, chris went home and i preceeded to a cocktail party at alley sheedy's apartment, and finally to the wetlands for a friends concert. i remember not only being so happy for fitting it all in, but being happy i hadn't left anything, ANYTHING out. high brow/low brow/high brow/low brow suits me just fine.
i was actually most proud that i was able to find one single outfit to transcend all of those situations..
** the two people who i texted to excited tell i had met christo and jean-claude both responded with the same "our friend and van damme?" confused response. i love my friends.
Thursday, October 05, 2006 - when i wasn't looking
when i was like 8, i refused to eat cauliflower. i suffered through every other vegetable there was, in fact i even liked brussel sprouts. but cauliflower, i vividly remember sitting at the diner table for at least two hours (though it seemed WAY longer at the time) to out last my parents, who couldn't police the kitchen anymore and finally let me just not eat it. it was the only vegetable i hated enough to walk away from vindicated.
but then twenty years later, i worked for a chef who was astounded by that. "how could you not like cauliflower", she asked, astonished. it was an order of priority to make me a soup of cauliflower. it was delicious. i couldn't believe this vegetable which had been my adversary in youth was, gasp, enjoyable.
after the soup she served it to me as a side dish, roasted with curry. i was in love. it was this unbelievable complex flavor. a few weeks after that, this other avant-garde client served me a spoon filed with cauliflower puree and white chocolate. it was delicious; the chocolate took the funk out of the cauliflower.
as amazed as i was, i was hooked. this is good? good?
i had a few friends over for dinner last week. we were all pretty broke ass, in fact, no one could even bring wine, we resorted to drinking the bottle of persecco i perpetually have in my fridge for occasions just like this. the cheapest meal i could make was a cauliflower ($2.79 at key foods) risotto (rice and saffron in the house) and a pork loin had in the freezer. christo came over early, to ostensibly help me cook. he helped me by eating the raw cauliflower i had broken up into popcorn size pieces like, well, popcorn. i actually had to take out the rest of head of cauliflower and ask him to break off some more. another new concept, cauliflower eaten, gulp, raw? he made me taste it, and not only was it palatable; it was in fact, scrumptious.
the pork loin, although good, was almost ignored as we all went sick over the risotto.
the bane of my childhood had transcended at last. not only do i like cauliflower, but also I liked it enough to serve it to others. is it possible? i think this may be a sign of maturity.
yikes.
but then twenty years later, i worked for a chef who was astounded by that. "how could you not like cauliflower", she asked, astonished. it was an order of priority to make me a soup of cauliflower. it was delicious. i couldn't believe this vegetable which had been my adversary in youth was, gasp, enjoyable.
after the soup she served it to me as a side dish, roasted with curry. i was in love. it was this unbelievable complex flavor. a few weeks after that, this other avant-garde client served me a spoon filed with cauliflower puree and white chocolate. it was delicious; the chocolate took the funk out of the cauliflower.
as amazed as i was, i was hooked. this is good? good?
i had a few friends over for dinner last week. we were all pretty broke ass, in fact, no one could even bring wine, we resorted to drinking the bottle of persecco i perpetually have in my fridge for occasions just like this. the cheapest meal i could make was a cauliflower ($2.79 at key foods) risotto (rice and saffron in the house) and a pork loin had in the freezer. christo came over early, to ostensibly help me cook. he helped me by eating the raw cauliflower i had broken up into popcorn size pieces like, well, popcorn. i actually had to take out the rest of head of cauliflower and ask him to break off some more. another new concept, cauliflower eaten, gulp, raw? he made me taste it, and not only was it palatable; it was in fact, scrumptious.
the pork loin, although good, was almost ignored as we all went sick over the risotto.
the bane of my childhood had transcended at last. not only do i like cauliflower, but also I liked it enough to serve it to others. is it possible? i think this may be a sign of maturity.
yikes.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006 - worth
i found out today my company bills out my time at over $200 per hour to clients...
WOWZA.
now, i indeed work my ass off on the job, and am at this very moment creeping up on hour 12 today. clients are billed incrementally in accordance to how much time exactly i spend on each one a day. although putting a price on my mental acuity seems a bit weird, it's not unjustified considering what i do.
but it got me thinking, i may be living up to this tremendous sum in the office, but am i really getting that much out of my personal hours?
did i get at least $200 value of partying in on each hour of saturday night? the last time i danced, was i dancing $200 of my heart out? hanging out last night, was my conversation worth $200, or was i slackin and too high and only mustered up $105? when i was picking out the players for my fantasy hockey team, did i put $200 of effort into my research?
i am going to make a concerted effort to live up to the potential they expect at work in my own day to day. $200 per hour worth of fun this weekend, here i come...
how wonderful would it be if my salary was $200 an hour? although that would probably require a radical career change and most likely, a pimp.
WOWZA.
now, i indeed work my ass off on the job, and am at this very moment creeping up on hour 12 today. clients are billed incrementally in accordance to how much time exactly i spend on each one a day. although putting a price on my mental acuity seems a bit weird, it's not unjustified considering what i do.
but it got me thinking, i may be living up to this tremendous sum in the office, but am i really getting that much out of my personal hours?
did i get at least $200 value of partying in on each hour of saturday night? the last time i danced, was i dancing $200 of my heart out? hanging out last night, was my conversation worth $200, or was i slackin and too high and only mustered up $105? when i was picking out the players for my fantasy hockey team, did i put $200 of effort into my research?
i am going to make a concerted effort to live up to the potential they expect at work in my own day to day. $200 per hour worth of fun this weekend, here i come...
how wonderful would it be if my salary was $200 an hour? although that would probably require a radical career change and most likely, a pimp.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006 - knoxie is coming back to town!!
i just found out this morning that my friend Sarah is moving to Washington DC! this is monumentally awesome news, because this means she moving back to the US after a little under two years in Sydney!
Sarah
and i can't wait to go down there and visit. Sarah is unarguable the loudest girl i had ever known (until i met Laurenn, now it's a standoff). she went home to Syndey to work on creating the first known ligament substitute, and i am sure whatever biochemistry marvel shes coming to DC to create will be just as earth shattering. yet, with all those brains, she is still knows how to have a blast, and she has got amazing taste in music. something tells me when she moves to DC, especially since my friends Blythe and Carl have just moved there as well, i'm finally going to realize my dream of going to see a show at the 9:30 club.
Sarah and i once went to a Rocket From The Crypt, arguably my favorite band of all time, show at bowery ballroom. the opening act was this old school punk dude Sonny Vincent, and he played pretty well, it was an enjoyable appetizer. but after the amazing RFTC show, as Knoxie and i were making our way down to the bathroom, we run smack into him. Vincent was wearing more makeup then the both of us combined, including sparkly blue eyeshadow. Sarah doesn't miss a beat, she slapped him heartily on the back, "great show mate," she bellows, "outstanding!" Vincent, who also happen to be about 6' 5" and reedy as a rail leans down to thank us and before our alcohol addled brain knew what was happening, kissed us both on the lips. again, more lipstick then either of us...
Jim and Sarah
those are the kind of things that seem to happen around Sarah, and i am getting excited at the prospect of more shenanagins!! she inspires me to pronounce "minn-a-sota" the correct way. her sister was in New York this past spring and joined me for Career Club's first show ever. she was pretty quiet and i assumed not having a good time, it was a small show and everyone knew everyone else, but she went back to Sydney telling Sarah she was, "absolutely moving to New York." the email where she recounted this to me, Sarah shot back, "not before i bloody move back first!" now they both can have their wish.
Toddy, Sarah and super drunk me
i am brimming with excitement over this news, and hope for more memories like this with Sarah, seen here with drunken Canadian Will, at the infamous after-party of Eric and Colleen's wedding.
Sarah
and i can't wait to go down there and visit. Sarah is unarguable the loudest girl i had ever known (until i met Laurenn, now it's a standoff). she went home to Syndey to work on creating the first known ligament substitute, and i am sure whatever biochemistry marvel shes coming to DC to create will be just as earth shattering. yet, with all those brains, she is still knows how to have a blast, and she has got amazing taste in music. something tells me when she moves to DC, especially since my friends Blythe and Carl have just moved there as well, i'm finally going to realize my dream of going to see a show at the 9:30 club.
Sarah and i once went to a Rocket From The Crypt, arguably my favorite band of all time, show at bowery ballroom. the opening act was this old school punk dude Sonny Vincent, and he played pretty well, it was an enjoyable appetizer. but after the amazing RFTC show, as Knoxie and i were making our way down to the bathroom, we run smack into him. Vincent was wearing more makeup then the both of us combined, including sparkly blue eyeshadow. Sarah doesn't miss a beat, she slapped him heartily on the back, "great show mate," she bellows, "outstanding!" Vincent, who also happen to be about 6' 5" and reedy as a rail leans down to thank us and before our alcohol addled brain knew what was happening, kissed us both on the lips. again, more lipstick then either of us...
Jim and Sarah
those are the kind of things that seem to happen around Sarah, and i am getting excited at the prospect of more shenanagins!! she inspires me to pronounce "minn-a-sota" the correct way. her sister was in New York this past spring and joined me for Career Club's first show ever. she was pretty quiet and i assumed not having a good time, it was a small show and everyone knew everyone else, but she went back to Sydney telling Sarah she was, "absolutely moving to New York." the email where she recounted this to me, Sarah shot back, "not before i bloody move back first!" now they both can have their wish.
Toddy, Sarah and super drunk me
i am brimming with excitement over this news, and hope for more memories like this with Sarah, seen here with drunken Canadian Will, at the infamous after-party of Eric and Colleen's wedding.
Sunday, July 16, 2006 - hello g'vner
I went to Governors Island with Red yesterday, and our time spent there was a totally carefree two and a half hours away from new york city!
Like field trip from the grind. The free ferry ride (which thanks to the MTA, I almost missed, and had to run down South Street to catch) lands you in this weird antiquated land, where an entire subculture actually several entire subcultures thrived.
Seven minutes from Manhattan by boat. This former navel base, army base, prison, coast guard unit, is in a state of flux once again. Its next identity is currently being decided. As it stands now, literally, there is an entire town, and I am talking fancy college/military town, built on this island. Apartments, houses, mansions, hospital, football fields, a church, playgrounds, an ice-skating rink, two castles, prison cells, and even a mayors house -- all available and looking pretty un-dilapidated to be out of use. And out of this entire island, us city dwellers (non-park ranger/military types) are allowed to visit only 1/4 of it. Yet the entire island is supposed to be unpopulated. Red thinks this is purposively and they are doing secret government work there and only *say* no one is there (wink wink). Its kinda eerie, in a Disneyworld ghost town kinda way (maybe thats why Red and I were talking about the Magic Kingdom). We walked up and looked in the window of one of the smaller houses, which in Queens, would be the biggest house in a five-block radius and cost over a million dollars. What we could see in the inside of the house through the window, looked preserved, nice and kinda historical. There was not a single thing in it but the walls had really nice work and the wood floors were better then the ones in my apartment. The entire landscaping of the island, including the unused houses and buildings, was gorgeous with lush grass and flowers.
It alarmed me that all these beautiful places exist but werent used for anything, and we ruminated about what functions they could fulfill. This place would make a great summer camp, or science retreat. It would actually make a ridiculously amazing college. Even in its present state, it makes an awesome accessible place to hold a large, fun picnic. Currently, the city wants to knock down almost all of the unused (in better shape, mind you, then at least 1/2 of the apartment buildings in the poorer parts of new york city) buildings and make the island into a large, unblemished sea of green grass. Larger then central park, a place where you can hang out and not be right on top of people near you.
As we strolled through the sprawling grounds, we passed the band (they apparently have live free music every weekend too) and we surprised that the electric violin foursome didnt suck. It actually kind of added to the mood, and we were both pretty psyched it wasnt just Americana (which Red heard the band would be). But as we tried to decide our next move on the map, the bass guitar started playing this familiar beat. Bah bam-bam, bah, ba-bump bump.. I mused out loud, that sounds like a violent femms song as the park rangers nodded along and the families happily ate their picnics. Then the singer starts singing, just last night, I was reminded of, just how bad, it had gotten, and just how sick, I had become.
Holy shit.
They were singing a violent femms song! Of course they censored the word shit to load or something pg-13 but otherwise, it was, "prove my love," the same song I had been rocking out to since I was 13. I sung along (inaudibly, of course, since my voice sucks) and smiled at the significance.
Although I wouldnt feel comfortable if New York City spent my tax dollars to build an unsightly gondola to bring people across to Governors Island from both Manhattan and Brooklyn, as has been proposed, I still will be curious to follow what the next life of this island will be. And what the next major band of my life will be covered there. Hopefully gigantic, with electric violin.
PS. One of the sillier points of the day, right after we missed the ferry we wanted to take back to NYC (which wound up being awesome, we killed time chillin on the grass) and on our way to find a place to pop a squat, we walked by a group of junior high kids taking pictures in front of a flowered hedge in bloom. One girl was lying on her side - elbow cocked, head in hand posing for her friend taking the picture, yelling, this could be my myspace picture! As she tried to pose, one of the guys with them was purposely messing around with her pose, sitting in the shot, leaning on her legs, which caused her to dramatically yell and make a fuss totally necessary when you are 14 and believe you are acting cool.
Amusing to witness, speaking volumes, cracking us up, this sun-drenched moment referenced something that made me think about our own friends and smile. And I am more then happy to report, this girl actually dressed for her age, instead of say, Christina Aguilera. Governors Island = a good thing.
Like field trip from the grind. The free ferry ride (which thanks to the MTA, I almost missed, and had to run down South Street to catch) lands you in this weird antiquated land, where an entire subculture actually several entire subcultures thrived.
Seven minutes from Manhattan by boat. This former navel base, army base, prison, coast guard unit, is in a state of flux once again. Its next identity is currently being decided. As it stands now, literally, there is an entire town, and I am talking fancy college/military town, built on this island. Apartments, houses, mansions, hospital, football fields, a church, playgrounds, an ice-skating rink, two castles, prison cells, and even a mayors house -- all available and looking pretty un-dilapidated to be out of use. And out of this entire island, us city dwellers (non-park ranger/military types) are allowed to visit only 1/4 of it. Yet the entire island is supposed to be unpopulated. Red thinks this is purposively and they are doing secret government work there and only *say* no one is there (wink wink). Its kinda eerie, in a Disneyworld ghost town kinda way (maybe thats why Red and I were talking about the Magic Kingdom). We walked up and looked in the window of one of the smaller houses, which in Queens, would be the biggest house in a five-block radius and cost over a million dollars. What we could see in the inside of the house through the window, looked preserved, nice and kinda historical. There was not a single thing in it but the walls had really nice work and the wood floors were better then the ones in my apartment. The entire landscaping of the island, including the unused houses and buildings, was gorgeous with lush grass and flowers.
It alarmed me that all these beautiful places exist but werent used for anything, and we ruminated about what functions they could fulfill. This place would make a great summer camp, or science retreat. It would actually make a ridiculously amazing college. Even in its present state, it makes an awesome accessible place to hold a large, fun picnic. Currently, the city wants to knock down almost all of the unused (in better shape, mind you, then at least 1/2 of the apartment buildings in the poorer parts of new york city) buildings and make the island into a large, unblemished sea of green grass. Larger then central park, a place where you can hang out and not be right on top of people near you.
As we strolled through the sprawling grounds, we passed the band (they apparently have live free music every weekend too) and we surprised that the electric violin foursome didnt suck. It actually kind of added to the mood, and we were both pretty psyched it wasnt just Americana (which Red heard the band would be). But as we tried to decide our next move on the map, the bass guitar started playing this familiar beat. Bah bam-bam, bah, ba-bump bump.. I mused out loud, that sounds like a violent femms song as the park rangers nodded along and the families happily ate their picnics. Then the singer starts singing, just last night, I was reminded of, just how bad, it had gotten, and just how sick, I had become.
Holy shit.
They were singing a violent femms song! Of course they censored the word shit to load or something pg-13 but otherwise, it was, "prove my love," the same song I had been rocking out to since I was 13. I sung along (inaudibly, of course, since my voice sucks) and smiled at the significance.
Although I wouldnt feel comfortable if New York City spent my tax dollars to build an unsightly gondola to bring people across to Governors Island from both Manhattan and Brooklyn, as has been proposed, I still will be curious to follow what the next life of this island will be. And what the next major band of my life will be covered there. Hopefully gigantic, with electric violin.
PS. One of the sillier points of the day, right after we missed the ferry we wanted to take back to NYC (which wound up being awesome, we killed time chillin on the grass) and on our way to find a place to pop a squat, we walked by a group of junior high kids taking pictures in front of a flowered hedge in bloom. One girl was lying on her side - elbow cocked, head in hand posing for her friend taking the picture, yelling, this could be my myspace picture! As she tried to pose, one of the guys with them was purposely messing around with her pose, sitting in the shot, leaning on her legs, which caused her to dramatically yell and make a fuss totally necessary when you are 14 and believe you are acting cool.
Amusing to witness, speaking volumes, cracking us up, this sun-drenched moment referenced something that made me think about our own friends and smile. And I am more then happy to report, this girl actually dressed for her age, instead of say, Christina Aguilera. Governors Island = a good thing.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006 - the other 1%
considering how freakish logical i am 99% the time, it is almost frightening how irrational i can be about so many things.
like the following:
- i am convinced there is an egg sack of some mutant strand of city bugs somewhere in my house that will eventually hatch into something of outbreak sci-fi movie proportion -
- every time i have a sore throat, i am totally dying -
- i am forever (and have always) assumed that i am doing a bad job and will get fired tomorrow -
- that whatever city bus i get on, even if i check the number thrice, is the wrong bus and an express that will not let me off and take me far, far away -
- every bump i ever hear in the middle of the night is someone, probably a crackhead, breaking into my apartment -
- or a vampire -
this is why i am not allowed to watch scary movies, i have enough crazy thoughts in my head without someone putting more in there.
the worst part is, i am totally conscious of the fact that these far-fetched, ridiculous paranoid thoughts are just that. but i cant stop thinking them. or believing them. especially the vampires. i know i am already pale as shit, if i ever start only showing up after dark...
i mean, seriously, have you *seen* the shadows in my bedroom? it may be the chimmy on the roof next door but in a strong wind, it looks like it could be a very large monster...
like the following:
- i am convinced there is an egg sack of some mutant strand of city bugs somewhere in my house that will eventually hatch into something of outbreak sci-fi movie proportion -
- every time i have a sore throat, i am totally dying -
- i am forever (and have always) assumed that i am doing a bad job and will get fired tomorrow -
- that whatever city bus i get on, even if i check the number thrice, is the wrong bus and an express that will not let me off and take me far, far away -
- every bump i ever hear in the middle of the night is someone, probably a crackhead, breaking into my apartment -
- or a vampire -
this is why i am not allowed to watch scary movies, i have enough crazy thoughts in my head without someone putting more in there.
the worst part is, i am totally conscious of the fact that these far-fetched, ridiculous paranoid thoughts are just that. but i cant stop thinking them. or believing them. especially the vampires. i know i am already pale as shit, if i ever start only showing up after dark...
i mean, seriously, have you *seen* the shadows in my bedroom? it may be the chimmy on the roof next door but in a strong wind, it looks like it could be a very large monster...
Thursday, June 22, 2006 - i really do love my friends, i swear
you just have to really define what a "friend" is
i am at a point in my life where i have no qualms cutting people off. i can remember leaving high school, or moving from california to new york, or leaving college, where i felt this fierce need to remain tight with the people who were important to me in my life.
i have benefited from this, of course, because i do have such wonderful friends in my life, even the ones who live on other coasts or i do not see as frequently, the important ones still mean a lot.
but there comes a time when you have to sit down and admit, as an adult, that you no longer have anything in common. school especially. a social life that revolved around a limited amount of bars and parties, not to mention a "grind" of classes with the same people, formed bonds that no longer have any real relevance. other people who had more in common with you and connected at a deeper level, well, people change. most for the better, but those common denominators don't necessarily stay intact.
so i don't get this holding on to reunions and get together in an obligatory sense. isn't that what family is for? plus, i have enough mandatory social obligations for work. if i wanted to commit to an event where my choices in life would garner pity while listening to inane prattle about people who are "successful" because they can afford a house with curb appeal and pop out a few young'uns, i will attend one of the two aforementioned occasions.
am i impossibly callous because i no longer want to spend time with these people who only want to be a part of my life at meticulously scheduled intervals. even if we have nothing at all in common but a shared sense of pity for each others life choices?
if you can't be bothered to call once in awhile to see what's up, or, in these enlightened technological times, drop me an email to catch me up on your life, why must i feel i should drop everything going on in my hemisphere because you have decided to host a chistmas social. is it imperative that i etch the party you are planning four months from now into my calendar, and then stick to that event no matter what, forsaking people i see on a weekly basis, to fulfill this obligation.
its not a matter of how often you speak, people are busy, hell, i'm busy. i have a friend from rancho palos verdes who i have not seen in person since 1997, who i speak to over email not more then four times a year, who i still feel super close too. we've managed to stay on the same page as she got married, had two children and moved to orange county. in fact, there are a lot of people in my life who have been an important part for years and will continue to be an important part for years to come, regardless of their marital status or their proximity to me geographically. these are the people who should remain friends.
but this imperative to keep in touch, just because we had a moment, makes me physically ill. get on with your life, we all have. i cant understand why me not wanting to spend two hours on a train to hang out with your whiny brats and boring husband makes me a bad person. or maybe it does.
i might be going to hell, but i am taking the most fun and important people with me.
"my demons and i are closer then ever.. next year were going on a tour of baseball parks". homer j. simpson
Currently listening :
Most People Are a Waste of Time
By Hard-Ons
Release date: By 27 March, 2006
i am at a point in my life where i have no qualms cutting people off. i can remember leaving high school, or moving from california to new york, or leaving college, where i felt this fierce need to remain tight with the people who were important to me in my life.
i have benefited from this, of course, because i do have such wonderful friends in my life, even the ones who live on other coasts or i do not see as frequently, the important ones still mean a lot.
but there comes a time when you have to sit down and admit, as an adult, that you no longer have anything in common. school especially. a social life that revolved around a limited amount of bars and parties, not to mention a "grind" of classes with the same people, formed bonds that no longer have any real relevance. other people who had more in common with you and connected at a deeper level, well, people change. most for the better, but those common denominators don't necessarily stay intact.
so i don't get this holding on to reunions and get together in an obligatory sense. isn't that what family is for? plus, i have enough mandatory social obligations for work. if i wanted to commit to an event where my choices in life would garner pity while listening to inane prattle about people who are "successful" because they can afford a house with curb appeal and pop out a few young'uns, i will attend one of the two aforementioned occasions.
am i impossibly callous because i no longer want to spend time with these people who only want to be a part of my life at meticulously scheduled intervals. even if we have nothing at all in common but a shared sense of pity for each others life choices?
if you can't be bothered to call once in awhile to see what's up, or, in these enlightened technological times, drop me an email to catch me up on your life, why must i feel i should drop everything going on in my hemisphere because you have decided to host a chistmas social. is it imperative that i etch the party you are planning four months from now into my calendar, and then stick to that event no matter what, forsaking people i see on a weekly basis, to fulfill this obligation.
its not a matter of how often you speak, people are busy, hell, i'm busy. i have a friend from rancho palos verdes who i have not seen in person since 1997, who i speak to over email not more then four times a year, who i still feel super close too. we've managed to stay on the same page as she got married, had two children and moved to orange county. in fact, there are a lot of people in my life who have been an important part for years and will continue to be an important part for years to come, regardless of their marital status or their proximity to me geographically. these are the people who should remain friends.
but this imperative to keep in touch, just because we had a moment, makes me physically ill. get on with your life, we all have. i cant understand why me not wanting to spend two hours on a train to hang out with your whiny brats and boring husband makes me a bad person. or maybe it does.
i might be going to hell, but i am taking the most fun and important people with me.
"my demons and i are closer then ever.. next year were going on a tour of baseball parks". homer j. simpson
Currently listening :
Most People Are a Waste of Time
By Hard-Ons
Release date: By 27 March, 2006
Tuesday, June 06, 2006 - derisive, derisive, derisive...
i had a conversation with jax on friday about hating random people who yell things at you on the street, and i loudly vocalized how much i hate when some person on the street tells you to "smile." obviously, i don't want to smile, otherwise i'd be smiling. maybe my cat just died. or i have tuberculousis. maybe i just got fired. DON'T FUCKIN TELL ME TO SMILE.
i think this blind hatred of people who tell me to smile has been usurped by office cleaning ladies who tell me i am working too late. twice in two days, both office clearning ladies have told me that. again, besides stateing the obvious, DO YOU THINK I WOULD BE HERE ON PURPOSE?!
watch, someone is going to tell me now that they are only trying to be polite or "don't harsh on the person with a menial job" or some hippie crap like that. go ahead. as you can see, i'm in a great mood.
make my day hippie.
i think this blind hatred of people who tell me to smile has been usurped by office cleaning ladies who tell me i am working too late. twice in two days, both office clearning ladies have told me that. again, besides stateing the obvious, DO YOU THINK I WOULD BE HERE ON PURPOSE?!
watch, someone is going to tell me now that they are only trying to be polite or "don't harsh on the person with a menial job" or some hippie crap like that. go ahead. as you can see, i'm in a great mood.
make my day hippie.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006 - You actually asked me the question: "Are you taking any steps to keep shit real?"
there is bloc party song i really like in a new car commercial
i can't decide how i feel about this. its a good song, and they don't use the majority of the song, just one guitar part (its a mellower song) and a line or two. so its not that i'm going to get sick of it the way i did when they started using death cab for cutie on the commercials for gray's anatomy. after hearing it like seven times in three days i wanted to saw off my ears. and i actually liked that song before that.
but this trend towards using obscure parts of indie rock songs in commercials, especially car commercials (aqueduct, franz ferdinand, postal service -- damn! ben gibbard, sell the farm why doncha!) is freakin me out.
i've always been a stanch advocate of musicians making money from their music however they can. "selling out" is a concept held by people who care too much about unimportant things. as long as an artist stays creative, who's to say its not their prerogative to play on the gilmore girls? lord knows that getting signed to a record company only guarantees any sort of fiscal mother load to a small few. if you can sell beer cozies with your band name on it, or license a song to a popular movie, good for you! if its a way for you to gain popularity, play big crap venues, thus allowing you to stay together and write more music, bravo. i still love radiohead and am breathless for a new album, regardless of how i feel about going to see them at madison square garden. (i'm not)
so its not the fact that the hipsters who make commercials "know" about these bands that bug me so much. i'm sure it is only me and a couple of other music nerds that realize these snippets of songs are actually songs recorded elsewhere, not just as background for a commercial. and *should* i be complaining about that, since they are using, well, if not *quality* music, interesting music, instead of something generic? although it should be said that when modest mouse's gravity defies everything was used in a minivan commercial, it made me smile every time.
so maybe its the fact that these songs just don't have enough of a shelf life to be played over and over again. and it only annoys me that their worth as a song seems to diminish when i'm forced to listen to them constantly?
and how about that julia marvel song "summertown" that was on the mercury/jeep/chrystler commercials back around christmas. weird. and, it held up..
thoughts?
dave eggers has a good point here: AN INTERVIEW WITH DAVE EGGERS
In 1993 Dave Eggers founded the now defunct Gen-X sneer of Might magazine. After a brief stint at Esquire, Eggers returned in 1998 to the avant-garde of the magazine world with the eccentric banality of Timothy McSweeney's Quarterly Concern (www.mcsweeneys.net). Eggers' first book, the bestselling memoir A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, was published in February of this year by Simon & Schuster to rave reviews. The following is an email transcript of a Q&A exchange with Eggers in which he is prompted to "rant" by the mention of the phrase "selling out."
(scroll down to blog title)
i can't decide how i feel about this. its a good song, and they don't use the majority of the song, just one guitar part (its a mellower song) and a line or two. so its not that i'm going to get sick of it the way i did when they started using death cab for cutie on the commercials for gray's anatomy. after hearing it like seven times in three days i wanted to saw off my ears. and i actually liked that song before that.
but this trend towards using obscure parts of indie rock songs in commercials, especially car commercials (aqueduct, franz ferdinand, postal service -- damn! ben gibbard, sell the farm why doncha!) is freakin me out.
i've always been a stanch advocate of musicians making money from their music however they can. "selling out" is a concept held by people who care too much about unimportant things. as long as an artist stays creative, who's to say its not their prerogative to play on the gilmore girls? lord knows that getting signed to a record company only guarantees any sort of fiscal mother load to a small few. if you can sell beer cozies with your band name on it, or license a song to a popular movie, good for you! if its a way for you to gain popularity, play big crap venues, thus allowing you to stay together and write more music, bravo. i still love radiohead and am breathless for a new album, regardless of how i feel about going to see them at madison square garden. (i'm not)
so its not the fact that the hipsters who make commercials "know" about these bands that bug me so much. i'm sure it is only me and a couple of other music nerds that realize these snippets of songs are actually songs recorded elsewhere, not just as background for a commercial. and *should* i be complaining about that, since they are using, well, if not *quality* music, interesting music, instead of something generic? although it should be said that when modest mouse's gravity defies everything was used in a minivan commercial, it made me smile every time.
so maybe its the fact that these songs just don't have enough of a shelf life to be played over and over again. and it only annoys me that their worth as a song seems to diminish when i'm forced to listen to them constantly?
and how about that julia marvel song "summertown" that was on the mercury/jeep/chrystler commercials back around christmas. weird. and, it held up..
thoughts?
dave eggers has a good point here: AN INTERVIEW WITH DAVE EGGERS
In 1993 Dave Eggers founded the now defunct Gen-X sneer of Might magazine. After a brief stint at Esquire, Eggers returned in 1998 to the avant-garde of the magazine world with the eccentric banality of Timothy McSweeney's Quarterly Concern (www.mcsweeneys.net). Eggers' first book, the bestselling memoir A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, was published in February of this year by Simon & Schuster to rave reviews. The following is an email transcript of a Q&A exchange with Eggers in which he is prompted to "rant" by the mention of the phrase "selling out."
(scroll down to blog title)
Saturday, May 06, 2006 - disappointing music makes me mean and jaded
i just listened to the new minus the bear album again, very originally titled "menso el oso" which translates into "minus the bear" and realized, i don't, in fact, like it.
now i have admitted that i didn't think it was their best work, but after seeing them live in concert last night, i don't like it. its not very interesting, what had turned me on to them in the first place were guitar riffs that haunted you with their novelty. when i first heard minus the bear at eric and colleens old place on avenue b, at one of our mammoth music sessions, i had to have it. plus, their albums had what i had felt, next to guided by voices, the best song titles ever*
this album is pretty mundane.
but that didn't stop the 200 seventeen-year-old kids that were there from singing along to every word. listen, if i wanted to hear karaoke i'd go to BA's house, or alligator lounge, i paid $20 to see the band dammit, SHUTTHEFUCKUP. i love seeing people caught up in unmitigated joy at a live show (i.e. robert pollard two weeks ago) but when it seems more like making sure that everyone around you knows how INTO the band you are, i just get annoyed. or amused. like the dude standing next to matt who kept trying to get a "mine-us-the-bear" chant going. or the people up front who kept throwing up one hand with peace signs and fists, as if on video, which totally cracked chewy up.
luckily i was with two people who could appreciate the crowd watching/mocking - chewy and matt - and we had a grand time pointing out interesting haircuts and snickering at dumb clothing/behavior. we even had our own silent chant going, "play-old-songs, play-old-songs" and were rewarded at the end of the show with a few, although the guy next to us trying to guess which song they were going to play next dampened it a little bit ("come on ninja, play ninja, i can feel it, ninja, ninja" - i swear this came out of his mouth).
the only thing that would have been worse then the entire minus the bear show would have been having to put up with the opening bands. although the russian circles instrumental metal sounded pretty cool, its not the kind of thing i would want to hear in concert, and the last band that was on before minus the bear, i have no idea what they were called but to say they sucked donkey dick would be an understatement. the lead singer was super chatty, and would tell stupid soliloquies between each song, at one point imploring the audience to "really listen closely to the lyrics of the next song" to which he then donned a hoodie and stood in a crucification pose and screamed about "wine into water, blood into wine" while the crowd booed and groaned. he made the lead singer of elfant look like less of a douche. which is pretty hard to do.
just like the guys who were busy proving they knew the band better then i did, a lot of the girls there were on a mission to make sure people surrounding them were privy to all the intimate details of their lives they felt made them infinitesimally cool. shrieking about zanex and loudly recounting tales of making out with boys loud enough for everyone in the bathroom to hear your story does not make me think to myself, "wow, so cool, wish i was cool enough to do that/be them/know them." it provokes pity.
i'm not saying i was never like that. i totally did the same thing when i was 16, but in my advanced years now, it was quite distracting and pretty depressing to watch. i just wanted to shush them all, in their identical chuck taylors and 80s fashions, and tell them it was ok not care what other people thought about you. but i guess i can do that to all their clones at kickball sunday.
who am i kidding, i'm going to be standing there with chewy re-visiting the mock-itude, throwing around snide comments in "bitch fest two: electric booglaloo"
hopefully there will be better music playing.
*MINUS THE BEAR SONG TITLES
Hey, Wanna Throw Up? Get Me Naked
Lemurs, Man, Lemurs
Just Kickin' It Like A Wild Donkey
Potato Juice & Liquid Bread
Pantsuit... Uggghhh
Let's Play Clowns
Dog Park
I'm Totally Not Down With Rob's Alien
Hey! Is That A Ninja Up There?
Thanks For The Killer Game Of Crisco Twister
Monkey!!! Knife!!! Fight!!!
Absinthe Party At The Fly Honey Warehouse
Hey, Wanna Throw Up?
Get Me Naked 2: Electric Boogaloo
We Are Not A Football Team
You Kill Bus Good, Man
Spritz!!! Spritz!!!
Women We Haven't Met Yet
Damn Bugs Whacked Him, Johnny
I Lost All My Money At The Cock Fights
Let's Play Guitar In A Five Guitar Band
Booyah Achieved
You're Some Sort of Big, Fat, Smart-Bug, Aren't You?
now i have admitted that i didn't think it was their best work, but after seeing them live in concert last night, i don't like it. its not very interesting, what had turned me on to them in the first place were guitar riffs that haunted you with their novelty. when i first heard minus the bear at eric and colleens old place on avenue b, at one of our mammoth music sessions, i had to have it. plus, their albums had what i had felt, next to guided by voices, the best song titles ever*
this album is pretty mundane.
but that didn't stop the 200 seventeen-year-old kids that were there from singing along to every word. listen, if i wanted to hear karaoke i'd go to BA's house, or alligator lounge, i paid $20 to see the band dammit, SHUTTHEFUCKUP. i love seeing people caught up in unmitigated joy at a live show (i.e. robert pollard two weeks ago) but when it seems more like making sure that everyone around you knows how INTO the band you are, i just get annoyed. or amused. like the dude standing next to matt who kept trying to get a "mine-us-the-bear" chant going. or the people up front who kept throwing up one hand with peace signs and fists, as if on video, which totally cracked chewy up.
luckily i was with two people who could appreciate the crowd watching/mocking - chewy and matt - and we had a grand time pointing out interesting haircuts and snickering at dumb clothing/behavior. we even had our own silent chant going, "play-old-songs, play-old-songs" and were rewarded at the end of the show with a few, although the guy next to us trying to guess which song they were going to play next dampened it a little bit ("come on ninja, play ninja, i can feel it, ninja, ninja" - i swear this came out of his mouth).
the only thing that would have been worse then the entire minus the bear show would have been having to put up with the opening bands. although the russian circles instrumental metal sounded pretty cool, its not the kind of thing i would want to hear in concert, and the last band that was on before minus the bear, i have no idea what they were called but to say they sucked donkey dick would be an understatement. the lead singer was super chatty, and would tell stupid soliloquies between each song, at one point imploring the audience to "really listen closely to the lyrics of the next song" to which he then donned a hoodie and stood in a crucification pose and screamed about "wine into water, blood into wine" while the crowd booed and groaned. he made the lead singer of elfant look like less of a douche. which is pretty hard to do.
just like the guys who were busy proving they knew the band better then i did, a lot of the girls there were on a mission to make sure people surrounding them were privy to all the intimate details of their lives they felt made them infinitesimally cool. shrieking about zanex and loudly recounting tales of making out with boys loud enough for everyone in the bathroom to hear your story does not make me think to myself, "wow, so cool, wish i was cool enough to do that/be them/know them." it provokes pity.
i'm not saying i was never like that. i totally did the same thing when i was 16, but in my advanced years now, it was quite distracting and pretty depressing to watch. i just wanted to shush them all, in their identical chuck taylors and 80s fashions, and tell them it was ok not care what other people thought about you. but i guess i can do that to all their clones at kickball sunday.
who am i kidding, i'm going to be standing there with chewy re-visiting the mock-itude, throwing around snide comments in "bitch fest two: electric booglaloo"
hopefully there will be better music playing.
*MINUS THE BEAR SONG TITLES
Hey, Wanna Throw Up? Get Me Naked
Lemurs, Man, Lemurs
Just Kickin' It Like A Wild Donkey
Potato Juice & Liquid Bread
Pantsuit... Uggghhh
Let's Play Clowns
Dog Park
I'm Totally Not Down With Rob's Alien
Hey! Is That A Ninja Up There?
Thanks For The Killer Game Of Crisco Twister
Monkey!!! Knife!!! Fight!!!
Absinthe Party At The Fly Honey Warehouse
Hey, Wanna Throw Up?
Get Me Naked 2: Electric Boogaloo
We Are Not A Football Team
You Kill Bus Good, Man
Spritz!!! Spritz!!!
Women We Haven't Met Yet
Damn Bugs Whacked Him, Johnny
I Lost All My Money At The Cock Fights
Let's Play Guitar In A Five Guitar Band
Booyah Achieved
You're Some Sort of Big, Fat, Smart-Bug, Aren't You?
Friday, April 28, 2006 - the evil powers of rock and roll
i love the supersuckers
tonight i got to see the scacrilicious sounds of the supersuckers in the same church i first saw them at in 1995. eleven years later, they are still rockin the fuck out.
i mean, please
these guys are older then i am. its the least you could do but join them... tonight janna and i got to listen to some of the best guitar playing i have heard in a while, not to mention some insane drumming by the agent orange drummer. the venue avalon, nee limelight, was the site of my first supersuckers concert ever, in 1995. i had not seem them live since may 2005. two weeks later (in 05) i met janna, and it was our first bonding to talk about that insane concert. we meant to go to two shows after that but it never worked out, tonight it was on. not the best show the 'suckers have ever put on (the shitty levels, the poor drummer {that was not the guest drummer} and my broke toes hampered that) but it was still more fun then anything else.
dan "thunder" bolton
a crap day at work was instantly melted away when the guitars started to rock. even standing in the back (which was hard when i *knew*, even without knowing firsthand they would be there, that bill dolan and cpt john o'conner were up front) to keep my foot from being rocked was ok. they played new stuff, eased into "motherfucker be trippin" tracks and then progressed older and older. yehhhhh.
i loved "evil powers of rock and roll" more then i should, it was a later, poppier album. hardcore fans swear by "musta be high" which is without doubt my least favorite. i only dig it when they keep the country vibe tempered by punk rock and roll. so when they broke into the song "fisticuffs" i pretty much went nuts. of course, so did most of the rest of the crowd, which makes the show all the more fun.
to digress, when i saw the pixies in camden, nj, we were about four rows away from the back of the huge arena. but the entire crowd had driven from near and far to see that band, and they loved the shit out of being there. when i saw the pixies again two weeks later in manhattan, even though DAVID BOWIE was there, the crowd was too cool to love it. plus, they were playing eight nights, so if you sorta thought you liked the pixies, you could have gone. totally different expericnce, and even though i was four times as close (like 30 ft) from the stage, it was not as good.
every supersuckers show is populated with people who just love the shit out of being there
they didn't play my favorite song, but they played a lot more i love, and true to form, they rock around the stage changing it all around and up and down tempo-ing the songs. lots of stage kicks and playing over the top of their heads, some really talented guitarists. not to mention eddie spaghetti letting the fans play the axe.
i will never forget my last night (2 mths before demise) at tramps... hellacopters/supersuckers double bill, they threw giant foam devils hands (instead of the big foam 'we're number one' fingers) out at the crowd (everyone was no less then 10 ft away minds you, god LOVED tramps) and after about 5 minutes the crowd tore the fingers into pieces and pelted them back at the band.
the band loved it and played harder.
as long as they keep playing... i'll keep going. long live the self proclaimed "greatest rock and roll band in the world"
tonight i got to see the scacrilicious sounds of the supersuckers in the same church i first saw them at in 1995. eleven years later, they are still rockin the fuck out.
i mean, please
these guys are older then i am. its the least you could do but join them... tonight janna and i got to listen to some of the best guitar playing i have heard in a while, not to mention some insane drumming by the agent orange drummer. the venue avalon, nee limelight, was the site of my first supersuckers concert ever, in 1995. i had not seem them live since may 2005. two weeks later (in 05) i met janna, and it was our first bonding to talk about that insane concert. we meant to go to two shows after that but it never worked out, tonight it was on. not the best show the 'suckers have ever put on (the shitty levels, the poor drummer {that was not the guest drummer} and my broke toes hampered that) but it was still more fun then anything else.
dan "thunder" bolton
a crap day at work was instantly melted away when the guitars started to rock. even standing in the back (which was hard when i *knew*, even without knowing firsthand they would be there, that bill dolan and cpt john o'conner were up front) to keep my foot from being rocked was ok. they played new stuff, eased into "motherfucker be trippin" tracks and then progressed older and older. yehhhhh.
i loved "evil powers of rock and roll" more then i should, it was a later, poppier album. hardcore fans swear by "musta be high" which is without doubt my least favorite. i only dig it when they keep the country vibe tempered by punk rock and roll. so when they broke into the song "fisticuffs" i pretty much went nuts. of course, so did most of the rest of the crowd, which makes the show all the more fun.
to digress, when i saw the pixies in camden, nj, we were about four rows away from the back of the huge arena. but the entire crowd had driven from near and far to see that band, and they loved the shit out of being there. when i saw the pixies again two weeks later in manhattan, even though DAVID BOWIE was there, the crowd was too cool to love it. plus, they were playing eight nights, so if you sorta thought you liked the pixies, you could have gone. totally different expericnce, and even though i was four times as close (like 30 ft) from the stage, it was not as good.
every supersuckers show is populated with people who just love the shit out of being there
they didn't play my favorite song, but they played a lot more i love, and true to form, they rock around the stage changing it all around and up and down tempo-ing the songs. lots of stage kicks and playing over the top of their heads, some really talented guitarists. not to mention eddie spaghetti letting the fans play the axe.
i will never forget my last night (2 mths before demise) at tramps... hellacopters/supersuckers double bill, they threw giant foam devils hands (instead of the big foam 'we're number one' fingers) out at the crowd (everyone was no less then 10 ft away minds you, god LOVED tramps) and after about 5 minutes the crowd tore the fingers into pieces and pelted them back at the band.
the band loved it and played harder.
as long as they keep playing... i'll keep going. long live the self proclaimed "greatest rock and roll band in the world"
Sunday, March 12, 2006 - lack of chemistry
a lack of chemistry
there is a standardized new york requirement for high school graduation, known as the "regent diploma." basically, there is a curriculum for each year of school, and every student in that grade, in the entire state of new york, and regardless of what the teacher teaches you in, say, "american history" or biology" during the year, you would have to take a standardized test in order to gain "regents" credit on the class. you needed a certain amount of regents credit in order to get a regents diploma from the state of new york.
since my first year of high school was in california, my curriculum was so screwed up. i almost didn't get a regents diploma. i think i had to take an extra year of spanish and some advanced history class to fulfill the number of credits i needed.
but my junior year, there was a huge controversy with one if the regents i had to take that year. it seems two students at the private yeshiva school in manhattan had broken into their school office and stolen the answers to the chemistry regents, and either started selling them or just passing them around. the new york post got a hold of a copy and printed the answer key on the front page of its paper. by the time i got to school that morning to take the sequential math three (aka, advanced algebra) a few kids had the post on them. halfway through the exam there was an announcement - the chemistry regents had been cancelled.
cancelled. everyone looks around at each other for a moment in wonderment. could this be possible? the test just, wasn't an issue anymore? it was true. and my teacher, in testament to his coolness (after such experiments such as lighting a pickle and creating a colored smoke bomb) decided he would just average up our test grades and labs and call it a day.
now not only is this every students dream, at least in high school, but this was my salvation. i had struggled through that class all year (were classes on high school a full year or a semester, i can not believe i can not remember....?) failed tons of quizzes, a test or two, struggled through a lot of my labs. there was just something about chemistry i could not understand. i read my chapters, came in once or twice a week for extra help early in the mornings, i was genuinely trying. but i was not remotely confidant going into that test, in fact, i was pretty nervous i was going to fail.
as soon as the sequential three regents was over, i booked over to the chemistry classroom and sought out my teacher. he was there and told me that he planned on averaging out everyone's year (half year?) long grades. i held my breath. good lord, would i pass?
in fact, only because of all my effort, the teacher passed me with a D. i can still clearly remember the blood rushing to my head when i realized i was finished and i had passed. i was kind of floating when i walked out the door of the classroom, and i have a vivid mental picture of how the early afternoon sun was hitting the orange lockers in front of the room. so even though i never really learned chemistry, i managed to squeak by and pass.
actually, i guess that explains a lot in my life lately, no chemistry...
there is a standardized new york requirement for high school graduation, known as the "regent diploma." basically, there is a curriculum for each year of school, and every student in that grade, in the entire state of new york, and regardless of what the teacher teaches you in, say, "american history" or biology" during the year, you would have to take a standardized test in order to gain "regents" credit on the class. you needed a certain amount of regents credit in order to get a regents diploma from the state of new york.
since my first year of high school was in california, my curriculum was so screwed up. i almost didn't get a regents diploma. i think i had to take an extra year of spanish and some advanced history class to fulfill the number of credits i needed.
but my junior year, there was a huge controversy with one if the regents i had to take that year. it seems two students at the private yeshiva school in manhattan had broken into their school office and stolen the answers to the chemistry regents, and either started selling them or just passing them around. the new york post got a hold of a copy and printed the answer key on the front page of its paper. by the time i got to school that morning to take the sequential math three (aka, advanced algebra) a few kids had the post on them. halfway through the exam there was an announcement - the chemistry regents had been cancelled.
cancelled. everyone looks around at each other for a moment in wonderment. could this be possible? the test just, wasn't an issue anymore? it was true. and my teacher, in testament to his coolness (after such experiments such as lighting a pickle and creating a colored smoke bomb) decided he would just average up our test grades and labs and call it a day.
now not only is this every students dream, at least in high school, but this was my salvation. i had struggled through that class all year (were classes on high school a full year or a semester, i can not believe i can not remember....?) failed tons of quizzes, a test or two, struggled through a lot of my labs. there was just something about chemistry i could not understand. i read my chapters, came in once or twice a week for extra help early in the mornings, i was genuinely trying. but i was not remotely confidant going into that test, in fact, i was pretty nervous i was going to fail.
as soon as the sequential three regents was over, i booked over to the chemistry classroom and sought out my teacher. he was there and told me that he planned on averaging out everyone's year (half year?) long grades. i held my breath. good lord, would i pass?
in fact, only because of all my effort, the teacher passed me with a D. i can still clearly remember the blood rushing to my head when i realized i was finished and i had passed. i was kind of floating when i walked out the door of the classroom, and i have a vivid mental picture of how the early afternoon sun was hitting the orange lockers in front of the room. so even though i never really learned chemistry, i managed to squeak by and pass.
actually, i guess that explains a lot in my life lately, no chemistry...
Sunday, February 26, 2006 - scary-aoke
last night i went to one of those korean karaoke bars with private rooms on 32nd street, which was a fun but somewhat unsettling experience. the controls were all in korean, so a couple of times when we tried to program songs in or try to get applause (they had an applause button!) we would shut down the system. instead of the typical cheesy "plot goes along with the lyrics" background video they usually have, there were vacation videos, a lot of them looking homemade, some of korea but others of london, paris and hawaii? (the funniest being a bunch of poylensian men in skirts dancing on a beach) after every song a fast-talking female korean disembodied voice gave you a "score" but since all the text that went along with the number, which was always between 84 and 92, was in korean, it was impossible to decipher what exactly determined the scoring.
what i found most peculiar was the fact that songs which were so clearly remakes, were listed under the artists that remade them. for example, "hallelujah" was credited to "shrek," rather then leonard cohen, or even more recently, jeff buckley. but perhaps the biggest travesty, "you can't hurry love' was credited to PHIL COLLINS.
it should be said that back in 2000 i could not stop listening to the supreme's greatest hits (a ginourmous 21 song cd) for a few months straight. my friend tim had brought it with us on a three day weekend trip that 10 of us took to vermont. it was a three hour road trip to a ski cabin in the middle of august for a good friend's wedding, and we made the most of the time we had there. it felts like a mini-vacation, complete with big family style dinners, table "surfing," trivial pursuit, and lots of beer. the supremes provided the soundtrack for the whole trip. i was obsessed with that cd after that weekend, and still have intense emotions over those songs.
so to hear diana ross's heartfelt life lessons (disguised as an r&b song) credited to phil collins, who i think covered it for a bad movie soundtrack, was inexcusable. from now on i'm sticking to the miale's carefully organized (by artist, song and genre) list, i am certain mrs.miale knows her motown.
cause as long as you know who really sings it, its a great karaoke song: The Supremes You Can't Hurry Love Lyrics
ps. i also learned that judas priest's "you got another thing comin..." although total fun played on guitar hero, does not go over as well sung with giggly sorority girls who favor songs from disney movies and "grease".
what i found most peculiar was the fact that songs which were so clearly remakes, were listed under the artists that remade them. for example, "hallelujah" was credited to "shrek," rather then leonard cohen, or even more recently, jeff buckley. but perhaps the biggest travesty, "you can't hurry love' was credited to PHIL COLLINS.
it should be said that back in 2000 i could not stop listening to the supreme's greatest hits (a ginourmous 21 song cd) for a few months straight. my friend tim had brought it with us on a three day weekend trip that 10 of us took to vermont. it was a three hour road trip to a ski cabin in the middle of august for a good friend's wedding, and we made the most of the time we had there. it felts like a mini-vacation, complete with big family style dinners, table "surfing," trivial pursuit, and lots of beer. the supremes provided the soundtrack for the whole trip. i was obsessed with that cd after that weekend, and still have intense emotions over those songs.
so to hear diana ross's heartfelt life lessons (disguised as an r&b song) credited to phil collins, who i think covered it for a bad movie soundtrack, was inexcusable. from now on i'm sticking to the miale's carefully organized (by artist, song and genre) list, i am certain mrs.miale knows her motown.
cause as long as you know who really sings it, its a great karaoke song: The Supremes You Can't Hurry Love Lyrics
ps. i also learned that judas priest's "you got another thing comin..." although total fun played on guitar hero, does not go over as well sung with giggly sorority girls who favor songs from disney movies and "grease".
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