Fuzzys Musings and Warblings

23 thousand dollars poorer....

2004-07-28T23:12:00.000-07:00

....but hopefully 23 million times cooler and happier, now that I'm a bonafide Mini Cooper owner. The funny thing is that I don't really drive all that much; I'll probably use it less than 7,000 miles a year.

I did go visit Joanne to show it off. I think it was the free DVD player I was giving her that was more the reason she let me play show and tell, but at least there's human proof that it all wasn't some crazy dream I had. I think I maybe had expected the first moments in my new vehicle to be magical, some sort of man/car bonding experience. It felt more like, "oh, it's a cute car; maybe I should have gotten one in red." I'm sure I'll develop a fine relationship with my new toy, but there's something slightly anticlimatic about it all. Did I over-romanticize this moment? Should I perhaps sleep in the back seat, naked, or draped in silks, letting that new car smell seep into my pores?

I feel like I'm perhaps being the over-eager new lover who expects deep connection on the first date, impatient to let time allow him to get to know his new partner slowly and natually. NO! I must know everything about you NOW! I must know all that you can do for me and will bring to my life!

Just breathe.....in....out....in....out. I have many years ahead in which to learn all about my new partner of the road. I can take it slow.

My goal this week is to find a good name for her.

nuttiness from 1999

2004-06-01T14:09:00.000-07:00

Falling from the Ale Sherbet Sky the marketing team embarks lustfully, whispering candy-laced epiphanies into one another's curlicued earlobes. The bathrooms are coed and the stall doors removed in an attempt at bonding thru embarrassment. Once I ate a pickle and couldn't get the taste off my tongue for a month, Albert says during our weekly "free-form" confessional meeting. Alice has a "thing" for Albert, even though she is happily married to Clemente, the CEO and sometimes-head Chef at the famous Tavern on the Mauve. Tomorrow it'll all seem less overwhelming, one of them thinks to herself. It is a woman we deduce as that thought is followed by the following: Does he find my breasts shapely and sexy? It's a shame we must all behave as adults.

Never in my wildest theme park have your dreams touched upon such an emotional truth, resonating across the tippy-toed landscape, sucking up the disinfranchised and even a few franchised along their blurry path. It's almost orgasmic, the blinding light you emanate when you do that. Can you do it again? We all share your soul and step into your pants and walk in your boots and stink of your sacred stench and believe your arcane beliefs. And though we may all judge you incompetent (and often incontinent), in the same turn it also says that we find ourselves unable to achieve much of anything at all as we share the good with the bad, the happy with the sad, the yesterdays with the tomorrows, the unbelievable with the believable, the sensical with the non-sensical. So do not fret, do not change the you you hide poorly beneath that shallow facade, because we really, really think you have a hot body.

Sciatica - a pain in the ass

2004-05-24T10:27:00.000-07:00

My new self-diagnosis for my knee pain is that it stems from my sciatica. I notice that my knee starts acting up more when I'm sitting down and the pain moves around my knee. It doesn't stay in one place. Kind of like my attention. Now it's just below my knee on the outside, near the hamstring. It's making me crazy, this not-so-slowly disintegration of my body. I feel like there's always some sort of discomfort going on. But at least I still have my great wit and a full head of hair.

I'm reading Augusten Burroughs' "Dry" and so far (p. 85) it's a page turner loaded with humor and emotional depth. I just really love how he writes. It's deceptively naturalistic and smooth. It's how I wish I could write. How I may have actually written for about a day and a half, several years ago. A time when I felt no body discomfort, arose at 7am to run in the hills, had a healthy breakfast of oatmeal and organic fresh-sqeezed orange juice, wrote in my journal for an hour, and tended to the garden -- all by 11am. I would have attended a yoga class and then gone to the gym as well, before heading off to work (part-time) at 3pm.

Now, the thought of getting up at 7am with a feeling of purpose seems as likely as waking up at 7am as a woman. (I do get the lovely benefit of waking up at 7am with a woman most mornings, though I'm usually the one who is awake.) I guess this is what they call "getting older." Even though my quadriceps seize up when I go running for a distance longer than a block and a half, I can stay in downward-dog for about 30 seconds before my arms start shaking, and my 6-pack abs have long since been hidden away behind a protective layer of gluten -- I'm convinced that a month of healthy eating and 3-4 days/week on the Precor will get me back to my old self. Now if I could figure out where I misplaced my will power and discipline....

The part that seems impossible is laying off the dry cereal. It's not sugary cereal, it's "Back-2-Nature Hi-Protein Crunch" and "Flax/Bran Flakes." But it feels like a cheat. Like drinking wine instead of beer. I was gonna say "like drinking Coors Lite instead of Guiness" but that would be a wrong analogy. It's more like eating Haggen Dazs instead of Edy's.

Mmmm.....Ice cream.....

Mini For Me....eventually

2004-05-18T14:16:00.000-07:00

So, it looks like my Mini is going to cost about 1000.00 a year in auto insurance. And since I'm keeping the truck, the insurance for that is 550 a year even if I use it less than 1000 miles a year! I'll have to decide if it's worth 600 bucks to keep the truck.

So it's going to take 3 more months to get my car:(. Because of the new convertible Minis that are coming out in September, regular Mini Coopers are being scaled back in production. So it's supposedly being built in June and will be delivered in August. I'm trying not to think about it which is difficult since everyone I know asks me about it. It feels like 6 months ago that I ordered it.

Hopefully I don't lose my job and then have to beg all my friends for the funds for my monthly payments.

By the way, the new Ben Kweller album is really weak. It's a huge disappointment as I'm a big fan. But the new Mirah album is excellent (I always think egg salad when I say/write/hear that word) so get off your asses and get it. She's sort of a spunkier Suzanne Vega.

June something 2001

2004-05-06T22:58:00.000-07:00

OK, this is me being just plain odd. A little free form creative writing to break up the whining and complaining that fills most of my journals.

----------------------------------------------------------

Funky ass shit mofo ain't dat da truth. Your life's a mutha fuckin' movie. A movie of the week. And Valerie Bertinelli is playing your wife.

I'm lucky - damn lucky I met you and come to be your friend. Cause all I have to do when the world starts crowding me in, starts pulling me under, is think of you and your life and soon enough I can breathe free again, can see the flowers bloom again, can feel the fingers of hope trail down my spine. Fingers I'd once thought were the claws of the devil.

I hate to be so damn selfish. You ain't that bad really. I mean there's a chance I'd still be your friend even if your life was pulled together. I mean, you're not stupid, just dumb. Or cursed. Though I don't believe in bad luck following a man around like a black cloud. Sometimes I look at you and just wonder. You must've done some bad shit in a past life.

But who'm I to talk? Maybe you're happy with the hand you been dealt. I myself would've preferred two and with 5 fingers attached, but you seem to be ok with your stub. You found a way to hold a bottle now didn't you? Ha!

There I go again, putting you down to life my own self up. You don't mind that I do this, do ya?

I do appreciate your friendship. Really I do. Before I met you, life was a journey from one sad memory to another, one depressing story followed by another depressing story. I only dragged myself out of bed because my upstairs neighbor makes a high-holy-hell racket every goddamn morning. Banging pans and stompin' shoes and blasting that damn opera shit. They say rock and roll is the devil's soundtrack; I'm just about positive he prefers opera.

May something 2001

2004-05-06T22:50:00.000-07:00

I purchased a journal from a bartendress on Avenue A in New York. She was a friend of a friend and made journals on the side. Made 'em from old books with ridiculous titles like, "The Go-Getter: A Story That Tells You How To Be One." I have two of these journals. For my first entry I had my friend Todd Schindler write down things I need to check out, book and music-wise. And some words of wisdom. Here's what he wrote:

Get Donnie Hathaway music
Julio Cortezar - Blow Up and Other Stories, Hopscotch
See "Tickle Me" (Elvis Movie)
Sigur Ros
Thom Jones
When you want ideas, just imagine you have cancer.

He had to end it on a down note, but hey, it's good advice none-the-less.
The only thing on this list that I have done is get Sigur Ros. I haven't read Julio Cortezar and I only read a couple Thom Jones stories in collections. I liked him fine though I wasn't overwhelmed.

I'm about to finish "Life of Pi" by Yann Martel and it's really great. I'm totally sucked into the world of Pi. It's the best I've read in a while.

back again, but it's rerun season

2004-05-04T14:51:00.000-07:00

So, I thought that it'd be fun to rehash old journal entries from my past. The rare few that aren't all whiny and complainy. I've edited them more maximum enjoyment. Here you go....

10-07-02

Here's an idea for a simple word game. It's called: Prefix/Suffix. Items: A coin, a die, 3 minute timer and two stacks of "prefix/suffix" cards. The coin has "prefix" on one side and "suffix" on the other. On the 6 sides of the die are: 3-5, 5-6, 6-7, 4down, 7up, and "free." The stack of prefix cards have prefixes on them and the stack of suffixes have suffixes (I think it's spelled prefices, suffices but who knows). The idea is that a coin is flipped, a die is rolled and that decides what words need to be created. The numbers tell how many additional letters can be added. 4 down means 4 or less letters can be added. 7 up means 7 or more letters must be added. For example: If the prefix is flipped and a 5-6 is rolled and the prefix card, "Pro" is picked, then all teams have 3 minutes to list all the words they can think of that start with pro and have 5 or 6 more letters. So producer, produced, protract, etc.... All original words (that aren't repeated by the other team) are worth one point. The "free" means that words of any length can be created. First team to 100 wins. Plurals are not allowed.

It's not contagious

2004-04-12T18:07:00.000-07:00

Doctor Unheimlich has diagnosed me with Fuzzmaster's Syndrome
Cause:	poor hygiene
Symptoms:	hissing, steam whistling from ears, sneezing
Cure:	wake up and realise it was all just a dream
Enter your name, for your own diagnosis:

I did it

2004-03-15T17:34:00.000-08:00

I put a 1000 dollar deposit down on a Mini Cooper. Now I just have to be patient. It takes between 4 and 6 months to get a custom Mini. I could have gotten it in 3 or 4 months if I paid 1400 more dollars, but I thought I'd save the 1400 and spend it on an alarm system and accessories. So, it may be August, but I'll have a new Mini. It's British Racing Green with white roof and mirrors and a sunroof and everyone is gonna want me to drive them places.

I'll probably drive them all crazy for the next few months, while I impatiently wait for my fancy new toy.

Mini Me Mini Me Mini Me

2004-03-15T00:00:00.000-08:00

I’m going to buy a Mini Cooper. I’m going to buy a Mini Cooper. I’m going to buy a Mini Cooper. I’m going to buy a Mini Cooper. I’m going to buy a Mini Cooper.

I have to keep saying it because if I let the practical voice get a word in, I could end up listening to it. But I fucking deserve a new car and I deserve a sporty, trendy, hip little car with a sunroof and heated seats.

So I’ve been to the MiniUSA website about a hundred times and have designed my Mini Cooper to my own personal specs. I test drove it last week at the San Francisco dealership and tomorrow I’m going to test drive it again.

The downside is that to customize a Mini takes about 5 months unless you want to pay a couple thousand extra. So, my choices are: Customize and wait 5 months, customize and pay more and get it in 2 months, or find one on the lot that has enough of my customized features to make it worth getting right away.

I am not patient when there’s something I want. Can I wait until the end of August to get my Mini? I’ve quit all my therapies so that I can afford the monthly payments – I want to start paying it off now so that I can go back to therapy in 4 years. The convertible Mini comes out in September – I might as well wait for that if I’m gonna wait until August anyway.

So I want the metallic green (British Racing Green is the official color) Mini with the white roof. I know it’s like cheating to get the automatic, but I don’t drive stick and although I can certainly learn, I like to keep my hands busy either drumming on the steering wheel, changing the song on my iPod or holding my cellphone (I know, that’s bad, but hell, if I’m going to go yuppie, I’m going all the way). So, I have no available limbs to change gears.
And the automatic does have pseudo manual transmission if I want that sort of experience.

I even got approval for 3.9% financing. All the pieces are in place. I must have my Mini and I must have it NOW!

Why I ain't goin' alone

2004-03-14T13:57:00.000-08:00

I will be struck down by a meteor!

How will you die? Take the Exotic Cause of Death Test

Blog design

2004-03-07T17:34:00.000-08:00

So I am attributing my lack of blog entry of late to the design of the blog entry page. It's one wide and short rectangular white box and that's it. It's not pretty and it's not an inspiration to natural musings and warblings. It somehow sucks out the part of my brain that knows how to start and end paragraphs. Did my subject change? Is this a new thought? Ah, who the hell knows and who the hell cares. Maybe my bloglong paragraph entry appears edgy to my readers. Like here -- here is where it feels right to start a new paragraph. But I now am forced into having to let this run on and on with no break, because that is what I have been talking about. Do I have to write by example? Live as I say, not as I do?

Fine. New paragraph. To be honest, it feels a bit freeing. I feel like I just let out a huge breath. I can relax and be me instead of some example of me. I'm listening to This American Life on the web, an episode from a couple weeks ago that is essentially a repurposed episode from episodes of the past. A bit of a cheat if you ask me, but perhaps this episode's theme, "Guns", 2 segments of which I'd heard long ago, will trigger new meanings for me simply by hearing it all in a new context. But then again, most any TAL episode is a great reminder of what great storytelling and great journalism is all about.

So, I ate some dried unsulfured pinapple chunks an hour ago and when I bit down upon probably the tenth chunk, it hit my tooth in a funny way, like my nerve endings were exposed, like I stuck my finger in a light socket, like a toothache. And after a minute the nervy pain subsided and I'll probably forget about it in about an hour, unless I eat something else that sets off this same feeling. But I doubt that will be the case, because what my body usually does is heal right away after some sharp pain occurs. I could be walking down the street and suddenly it feels like I was stung by a bee on my arm -- ouch! -- and then I rub my arm and then in about a minute the pain is gone and there is no prick, no mark, no redness. Sometimes these pains reoccur, but it's pretty random and fleeting. It's all very odd, but so am I and I chock it all up to the aging process. For all I know the same thing happens to most everyone else my age and older but they choose not to talk about it.

mugged in the hood

2004-02-23T22:42:00.000-08:00

Add me to the list of those who've experienced the heart-pounding thrills and excitement of being robbed at gunpoint in Oakland. And let's add walking home from BART down a semi-deserted street as a bad place to be on a cell phone. One would think that talking on a cell phone would be a deterrent to a thief/thug/mugger, but the reality is that talking on a cell phone leaves you unaware of what is going on around you.

I'm fine - I'm about 25 dollars lighter than I had been, and a little less ready for bed - but I'm fine. Just in case anyone was worried.

I had taken BART home from the city, after a successful night at the bowling alley (our team, The Hardballs, won all 3 games we played and will probably be in 3rd or 2nd place amongst 12) and it was about 10pm. I usually walk down 40th St, which is a busier street, but for some reason I chose to walk down 41st, perhaps out of old habit and perhaps because I was on the cell phone with my Aunt Arlene. I did check behind me a couple times, but got caught up in conversation. As I was nearing my apartment, about 2 buildings down I hear footsteps coming up behind me and I turn around to a fairly large black man in a ski parka jacket with a hood. He said give me your money and was pointing a small gun at me from inside his jacket. I wasn't sure what to do with my phone so I put it on the ground and told him that my wallet was in my backpack. Luckily he wasn't the sharpest thief in the world - if he was, he would have taken my entire backpack which had my ipod and sunglasses, etc. But I took out my wallet, took out the cash and handed it to him. He said, "where's the rest?" and I said, in a pretty annoyed voice, "It's my wallet, it's where I keep my money. That's all there is." I showed him the cash section being empty. This seemed to be enough to satisfy him. He then said, "Now run. And don't turn around." So I grabbed my backpack and ran past the driveway to my apartment and up a couple houses and stopped. And turned around and watched as he watched me watch him head down the street and turn the corner. I actually contemplated calling the cops, getting in my car and trying to find/follow the guy, but thought better of it.

I wasn't really all that freaked about it -- not at the time nor now, about an hour later. I of course called my aunt back, who I figured had heard some of what happened and I knew SHE would be freaking out. And she was. I can imagine what it would be like on the other end, not knowing what was going on, feeling helpless and worried. And she's a worrier. She knew I was being accosted, but couldn't tell what was happening.

On a happier note, I came home, grabbed my mail and found a check for 17 bucks from the CD Map Antitrust Litigation, which basically means that it was my payment portion from a class action lawsuit against all the record companies for overcharging the costs of CD's sold at certain record stores. Something like that. My friend Alisa told me about it a couple years ago and said that if I wanted to join the lawsuit, sign up on the web. I'd forgotten about it, figured if I got anything it would be 6 bucks. So I see it as the mugger getting about 8 bucks from me. Hell, I get ripped off for more money than that at most restaurants I eat at. So I'm pretty grateful to have been through a robbery and only be out 8 dollars.

A thought that occured to me when I got home....when the guy saw me rummaging through my backpack for my wallet, was he not worried that I might pull out a weapon? Mace? Or a knife or gun? Or a bible?
That should be at the top of the rule book for thievery. Never let the victim search through his/her bag for goodies in which to steal.

I can joke about it now -- I've had a good hour to process it through. I'm fast like that.

Amazing

2004-02-17T23:20:00.000-08:00

I'm still trying to take in the wonderous sights at city hall this past weekend. I went down there with my video camera, accompanying Keely to witness her friends Lisa and Stefanie as they joined the more than 2500 gay couples getting married.

It was an historic weekend and if I didn't feel the significance of it via newspaper and TV, I certainly did on Monday, seeing the line of nervously excited couples and their friends snaking around the city hall building. Lisa and Stephanie got there at 6:15am and Keely and I joined them in line around 9am. Streams of generous people gave out donuts and bagels and coffee, cars drove by and honked in support, musicians played on the steps outside the entrance, a group of folks blew bubbles as the first wave of newly marrieds came out to greet the cheering crowd. CNN-ABC-NBC, and other news crews were there, reporters interviewing folks in line, trying their best to maintain their neutral network faces.

I tried to get a variety of footage. I walked from the beginning of the line to the end, scanning the seemingly thousands of faces waiting to get in to tie the knot or watch their friends who were. I talked to a woman holding a place in line for her deaf lesbian daughter and deaf partner. She was planning on interpreting for the ceremony. One older couple I talked to had driven down from Portland and had been together for 28 years. There were so many stories, so much happiness and elation and hope and I didn't want to even bring up the issue of whether the marriage certificates would ever become more than a piece of paper. This is what the CNN reporters kept asking. It's a question designed to deflate celebration. It was pretty clear from the folks I talked to that all this was about far more than getting a piece of paper with the city stamp on it. Gays may never get the same benefits that straight couples receive, but the marriages are forever just as valid.

It was about 12:30 when we finally made it into the "indoors" portion of the line. Lisa and Stefanie had been in line 6 hours already -- others much longer -- yet no one was impatient or short-tempered. I couldn't imagine a crowd of straight couples conjoining in such respectful spirited community, as I witnessed yesterday at City Hall.

I imagined a plethora of short films being made about this event and was trying to find a unique angle/approach to take. I knew I wanted to follow Lisa and Stephanie through the entire process. The personal was more interesting than the political to me. You couldn't avoid the political. It was too imbedded. I wanted to give a sense of what they had to go through to get married. There is such a process; it was more complicated than I imagined. Not to get bogged down in the technical, but the actual steps of getting married for gay couples, from the myriad of forms, to the line for the certificate, to the line for the ceremony, to the line for the payment to the waiting for the actual license....is it the same for straight marriages? And more importantly, will these steps ever be taken again by other gay couples? Will this be a one-weekend shot?

I'm a pretty liberal guy, but I often am able to put myself in the place of conservatives, to kind of understand their tightwad perspective. Compassion and gentleness aren't considered virtues in most conservative circles and this is a major problem, but especially fiscally, I can put myself in their shoes. But I don't get the arguments against gay marriage. Homophobia, religious extremism (almost always intertwined) and complete ignorance are the only reasons a person can be against gay marriage. Gay marriage has no negative impact on the lives of straight people. It doesn't invalidate their marriages. It doesn't take away their rights. The only argument I can almost accept, (and I haven't heard this one in the papers or the talk shows) is that all the best wedding locations will be harder to reserve if gays are allowed to legally marry. Brad and Brenda might have to push back their wedding dates a couple months because Larry and Robert and Michelle and Lucy have the best caterers booked until November.

I'm going to look at the footage tomorrow and try and put together a piece that hopefully will capture the energy and history that I witnessed at City Hall on Monday February 16, 2004.

States I have visited

2004-02-09T22:02:00.000-08:00

The mental ones need a far bigger map, but here's the United ones in map form.

I had stayed at least one day and most, overnight, in each of these states. I have visited 21 or 41 percent of the states.

I need to work on my East Coast contingent.

The countries map is far sadder and I'm not gonna include it because I've only been to US, Canada, Mexico, Italy and Japan. I can't really count Germany because it was a stop-over, though it's on my passport.

low blood sugar

2004-01-31T18:26:00.000-08:00

I laid comatose but awake on my carpet for an hour this afternoon, waiting for the wave of lightheadedness to pass. I'm going to have to find the strength to ween sugar out of my diet. Or high-glycemic foods. Ugh. That's like everything I eat. What do I eat? Nuts and beans?

I watched "Swimming Pool" last night with Keely. Thought it was absolutely OK. About as average as a film can get. Some nice, youthful, perky breasts liberally exposed and an interesting repressed/free-spirited dynamic, but that's about it. The ending was kinda lame and a copout in my book.

Getting some freelance work after a couple months lull. Hoping that the "Hip Hot in the Bay Area" pilot comes to fruition. It's a pilot for a potential series, a la "PM Magazine", that shows the hip and hot places to buy clothes, eat meals and hear live music in the bay area. It could be cool, it could be lame, but either way, if it happens, its work.

I think I need to take a shower and stretch. Not at the same time.

Taiko master

2004-01-20T14:30:00.000-08:00

I would really love to be a taiko master. Not just a pimp-daddy taiko God like I already am, but a full-fledged taiko master. Like, people hire me to give workshops and contribute to their albums. But I want it all to come naturally, with not much time and effort. I don't want to have to give up any of my social life -- the gym, movies, meals out -- to achieve it.

Is it too much to ask to have all that I want to learn and become, come naturally to me?

fuzzy warbles

2004-01-19T00:20:00.000-08:00

I'm pretty sure that is from an XTC song. I knew there was yet another reason I liked that word and made it mine.

I feel a bit warbly as well. I was about to shut the computer down and get some shut eye but then felt like blogging. Not that I have anything pressing to say.

I went to an old friend from college's (Kendall) housewarming in San Rafael today and was surrounded by wailing toddlers and infants. Pretty much all the women were either with a child or with child. Kind of scary. I recognized people but couldn't remember anyone's name which was fine as I was busy being Katrina's (Kendall and his wife Annika's 1.2 year old daughter) receptacle for "things found round the house, now coated in a sheen of slobber." I felt honored and a little proud that she felt I was responsible enough to guard her stolen booty.

It's a very odd sensation, typing just after clipping one's fingernails. Not entirely pleasant. It's like too much of my skin is in contact with the keys. Like the area that had been hidden behind my now clipped nail is sensitive and nervy. I am making a lot of typos, which I then go back and fix, so that you do not think me drunk or insane. Like that sentence right there had about 10 typos in it. In fact the word typo had 2 typos in it.

Maybe typo isn't even a word.

I'm going to the dentist tomorrow for the first time in a year and 4 months. I think my ex-girlfriend, Jay, is going to be there. I haven't seen her since the breakup, but I'm pretty sure it's gonna be fine. I am a little worried that even if she's not the dental hygenist working on me, that the rest of them will know who I am and enact her revenge on my teeth and gums. I know what some of you (as if I really have a readership large enough to constitute a "some") are saying to yourself, "why don't you go to another dentist?" And to that I answer "because I am both lazy and masochistic." And they have my dental xrays and I'm sure Jay could give a rat's ass about me now.

My eyes are barely open and I think I may actually have one eye closed completely. I need to stop and brush and floss.

Monsters

2004-01-14T20:57:00.000-08:00

Saw "Monster" this afternoon and was pretty blown away. Charlize Theron was truly amazing. She really inhabited the role with a completeness I haven't seen since Hilary Swank in "Boys Don't Cry." Even Christina Ricci was strong, and she's usually someone who doesn't get below the surface of her characters. It was also effectively edited, especially the ending, which could have been over the top or anticlimactic. It also had the best use of voice over I've seen in recent memory. Voice over is usually done either as a crutch for a bad script or to explain stuff we already know. Here, the voice over provided an added layer of depth, a chance for "Aileen" to express her inner fantasies and squashed dreams. It's easily the performance of the year.

Keely is back home after 6 days in Florida and more than the usual reasons one is happy that one's boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/significant other returns from somewhere far away, is that I get to sleep through the night again. There's something about her presence that just knocks me out cold. And I mean this in the most flattering way possible. I'm usually an anxious sleeper and have battled insomnia most of my life. But with Keely I tend to lean toward narcolepsy. It's awesome.

She used to get upset when I would fall asleep while she read to me aloud or we were watching TV, but now I think she gets a sense of pride in knowing that I must be really relaxed around her to zonk out in the middle of whatever it is we're doing. She may not agree with that statement on the conscious level, but deeper down, she's smiling.

I feel bad that I didn't wrap the Mix CD that I gave Megu for her birthday yesterday. She didn't get any "wrapped" presents and I actually was going to wrap it before going to taiko, but I was running late. I'm honored to have been her birthday highlight, but I know what it is like to have a lame birthday -- all that expectation and self-focus (and heightened sensitivity). Since she's probably reading this, maybe it will make her feel better to know that I got to spend my birthday a couple years back working all day and sitting in a housing authority court room all night (fighting my landlord). I probably had something to unwrap (not an eviction notice), but I can relate to the birthday blahs.

Jealousy and Envy

2004-01-10T00:00:00.000-08:00

My two friends tonight. I went to Alisa's for a pot luck dinner and pseudo housewarming. It was the first time seeing her new pad and the place is friggin' amazing. First of all it's huge. A huge living room, dining room that contains a tiki bar in the corner and fits a large oak table as well as a couch and a fireplace. A fabulous kitchen with tons of counterspace and a lot of drawers and cabinets. It's so big that a cutting board/island could fit in the center and not get in the way. There's a gorgeous built-in cabinet in the back of the kitchen that has a mini-bar in it. All of the rooms have original wood (mahogony? I don't know my woods) tasteful paint jobs and nice drapes/blinds. It's got Alisa's room, her roommate Brett's room and another small room that is a computer room for now. It's a fucking house. No neighbors above or below. A yard. A patio. A driveway (I think). I want to kill them and take over the place.

But my place is fine and my upgrades are making it homier. I need to remember that and remind myself that jealousy is a temporary and fleeting emotion and it can be converted into positive action.

At least she's making me a copy of this season's "Curb Your Enthusiasm" and "Sopranos" so I can't complain at all.

An uncluttered house = an uncluttered mind

2004-01-08T22:48:00.000-08:00

Or so I would like to think. I'm liking the upgrades I've made to my abode, and now I'm organizing/cleaning the drives on my computer. I'm in one of my "I must sort everything so that calmness will prevail" modes, which is actually a very productive stage to be in, though it borders on mania and has led to a recent (and hopefully temporary) bout of insomnia. Not really insomnia as much as a lack of sleepiness. How can I sleep when there is so much to do, so much to explore, so much to clean!

There is a great article by Josh Kun in this weeks Bay Guardian about how the De Capo Best Music Writings collections (which I own 3 of) are all written by middle-aged white guys and how this "literary collection" ignores a large segment of the music journalists population, namely minorities and younger writers. It also talks about how the sources that this collection tends to focus on are NY intellectual mags like The New Yorker and New York Magazine. Only one article chosen was from URB and other hip-hop magazines and so on and so on. It's a well-written argument that opened my eyes to the insular and privileged viewpoint that this supposed open-minded music journalism collection expresses. Kind of like the old boy's club of the rock writers world.

I shouldn't be writing this, because it may jinx it from actually happening, but I am excited about the possibility, so fuck superstition....I may be going to Alabama for a week (in a couple weeks) to videotape and edit for the internet a 5 day Gospel Quartet Music Festival. Not sure where in Alabama or many of the details, but that is definitely up my alley. I love jobs that combine music and video, where I get to talk to musicians and make mini documentaries. I think this is a concert only project and isn't as cool as my 7 months with WEN (world entertainment network - long story, but it was the ideal job....alas a dotcom casualty).

Anyway - I will find out if it is a go in the next couple days. Not sure what the issues are, but I feel good about it and could use the money.

Keely is off in sunny Florida until next week and I am trying to use this time to let my grooming habits slack off, sleep irregularly and vaccuum the corners of each room. Maybe even get rid of the cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling.

I'm glad it's not so cold anymore. For now.

2 down, a bunch more to go

2004-01-04T23:08:00.000-08:00

So I went out and got me a new couch today. A nice, comfy, cozy, sturdy one that is well designed for naps. Found it on Craigslist and took it home with me. It sat in my car for a few hours, but I eventually found a friend to help me get it up the stairs and into my living room and now I am really an adult. There's something about having a futon couch that makes me feel like I'm still a college student.

I moved the futon into my edit/work room and got rid of my bookshelf. I'm going to IKEA tomorrow to find low and long bookshelves to replace the tall and narrow one I no longer have (gave it to the guy who helped me move the couch in). With a lack of wallspace, my thought is to keep my books under my windows, in shelves that will run beneath them.

I'm in interior redecorating mode - which means that I'm finally trying to make my house a home and/or I'm putting off doing something more "important" such as getting my resume and reel together so I can get a better job. But it's so much more fun to redecorate and write blogs and go out to dinner and lay on my new couch with my girlfriend and watch football games on a fuzzy tv screen and organize my mp3's.

Speaking of which....the first new album of 2004. The Walkmen's "Bows and Arrows." It's not officially out yet, but I got a pre-release copy from one of Keely's friends. It's good. It's interesting. Not sure how to describe The Walkmen. Kind of like a janglier, dronier Interpol. It's got an addictive, hypnotic sound that makes it hard to write to. I want to lay back and put on headphones and dream about a simpler time, when playing The Dark Side of the Moon on headphones was the epitome of fun.

Oh, and the other thing I accomplished on my list was that I did situps today.

TOP TEN ALBUMS OF 2003 HAS ARRIVED!!!

2004-01-02T22:57:00.000-08:00

Top 10 Releases of 2003

First of all, these lists mean nothing, other than to express that I spend a lot of time listening to music and like to share my opinions of music with others. Often against their wills.

I think we list makers do this rating thing as a way to bring a sense of order to the world. It doesn’t actually bring any order to the world, but it does feel good at some point in the process.

2003 was a good year for music. Perhaps even great. I discovered a lot of new talent and some of my previous favorites released their best stuff in 2003. I like to think of myself as being open-minded, musically. There isn’t a genre of music I don’t appreciate. I am most versed in the alternative/pop/singer-songwriter world, but I also am a fan of hip-hop, honky-tonk, electronica, heavy metal, soul and everything in between.

I acquired 64 albums that were released in 2003. Out of this 64, I chose 10 to anoint with my praise. I will follow my top 10 with an honorable mention section, mainly for those albums that I didn’t get enough of a chance to listen to yet. (Or ones that were good but not at the top 10 level.)

A lot of great bands and artists put out albums in 2003 and this list was harder to narrow down than I thought it would be. But narrow it down I did, and here it is, in no particular order. (OK, alphabetical will work.)

1. Belle and Sebastian – Dear Castastrophe Waitress
It’d been 5 years since B&S put out anything close to as good as their first 3 albums and I had sorta moved on from them; too many good bands to follow to stick around for those who were less than inspiring. But “Dear Catastrophe Waitress” shows that what was lost can once again be found and for those who had grown tired of Belle and Sebastian – and those who hadn’t given them a listen yet – DCW is a great place to discover and rediscover a band that defines (and redefines) the twee sound.

2. Beulah – Yoko
Supposedly named after Yoko Ono and supposedly signaling that recording this album was about to break up the band. If it is their last album, Beulah is going out at their peak, as “Yoko” is Beulah at their most focused and inspired. Often accused of sounding too precious and over-produced on previous efforts (not by me), “Yoko” proves Beulah aren’t just studio hacks. The album feels more stripped down (less orchestration) and yet doesn’t sacrifice the lush, often melancholic vibe that is quintessential Beulah.

3. Death Cab For Cutie – Transatlanticism
I discovered these guys back in 2000 at a listening station at Aquarius Records in San Francisco and couldn’t get enough of their literate, Built-to-Spill inspired sound. I was a huge BTS fan at the time (still am, but they haven’t put out anything in a while and Doug Martsch’s solo stuff is not a satisfying substitute) and if they sounded a little “too” much like BTS, I didn’t care. DCFC has put out a couple albums since then, but neither one led me to expect that they would once again dominate my CD player/iPod in heavy rotation. But “Transatlanticism” catches DCFC at their peak, sounding like DCFC and not anyone else. Worldly and wise without empty calories.

4. The Decemberists – Her Majesty
To be honest, I prefer The Decemberists’ debut album “Castaways and Cutouts” more than “Her Majesty”, but since I discovered them this year, and since I can’t bend my rules too much for this list, I’ve put “Her Majesty” here, because this is a band that I think has lasting power. Not unlike Death Cab For Cutie, but with Belle and Sebastian production values and a more eclectic instrumentation. Great use of accordion, acoustic guitar and cymbals. I think that “Her Majesty” will grow on me, perhaps outdueling “Castaways” for lasting supremacy. This is the kind of band that can use the word legionnaire and not sound pretentious.

5. Frank Black – Show Me Your Tears
I’ve sung Frank’s praises enough the past couple years, so I’ll keep this brief. I just can’t get enough of this dude. If I were to start a rock and roll band I’d have Frank be the lead singer. “Show Me Your Tears” is just a collection of great rock songs; it sounds like what the Rolling Stones would sound like if they didn’t suck.

6. Joss Stone – The Soul Sessions
I have my friend Tiffany to thank for this one. She played me Joss’s cover of The White Stripes’ “Fell in Love With a Girl” (changing it to “Fell in Love With a Boy”) on the way to taiko class and I was blown away by not just Joss’s amazing pipes, but with the exceptionally funky reworking of that song. Then I learn that Joss was 16 when she recorded this album and suddenly Alicia Keys is merely an average R & B vocalist. All 10 songs are covers, mostly soul standards by some of the greatest soul singers of the 60’s and 70’s. This could have been either an obnoxious stunt (a la Christina Aguilera) or a pale imitation of the original artists, but instead it is the ultimate tribute album, the best R & B album to come out in years and to think it’s a 16 year old white girl from London who did it.

7. Marc Almond – Heart on Snow
This is one I just recently found. I had no real expectations for this and when I saw that it was an album of mostly Russian folk songs, sung in both Russian and English, I cringed a bit. But why this album works is that it somehow is melodramatic, theatrical, lush, simple, subtle, reverential, sparse and dynamic. It feels like it could be the soundtrack to a musical, to dinner theatre, to a James Bond movie and to a night of candlelit romancing. All at the same time. And Marc’s voice is a true instrument. A big surprise.

8. New Pornographers – Electric Version
The New Pornographers’ first release, “Mass Romantic” was a revelation when it came out in 2000. If I had the record I would have worn out the grooves. It was the ultimate blend of new wave, pop, catchy sing-a-long harmonies, with a touch of prog-rock bombast. “Electric Version” is a bit less ambitious, and its stay on my rotation lasted a bit shorter than the first album, but it’s one of the year’s best albums, easily. This Canadian super-group (as the press defines them, though Neko Case is really the only known musician outside of NP) writes complex pop songs that stick to your brain and tickle it at the same time.

9. Richard Thompson – Old Kit Bag
With over 20 albums to his credit, yet not much acclaim (fame), Richard Thompson is like the grandfather of cult singer-songwriters. I’ve pretty much liked most every album he puts out, with a bit of love for a couple of them (“Rumor and Sigh”, “Mock Tudor”). His latest, “Old Kit Bag”, is his most stripped-down in 15 or 20 years and it really suits him well. The last few albums were quite produced and while that was fitting for the time, his sound was getting a little samey and slick. No one writes a sad song like Richard Thompson. When he sings a sad song, you need a drink afterwards to dull the pain. My favorite song of his (not on this album), “God Loves a Drunk” should be in the top 10 of greatest songs ever written. Though none of the songs on OKB reaches those heights, the fact that he still puts out great albums is a testament to one of our great songwriters.

10. The Shins – Chutes Too Narrow
I was annoyed at first, because the CD is only 35 minutes long and only has 10 songs. With the capability of fitting 80 minutes on a CD I felt ripped off. I mean, I even paid for this one! But the brevity is what makes CTN succeed (or so I tell myself). Every song is a little gem, a nugget of pop goodness. This is less Beach Boys’ influenced than their previous album “Oh, Inverted World,” and this is a good thing. It’s got it’s sunny/psychedelic thing going, but it’s also got a grounded, even alt-country tinge to it, which fits their style seamlessly. James Mercer has one of the prettiest voices in all of pop music and it better be sooner than 2 years before I get another dose of classic “Shiny” tunes.

Honorable mention:
The Black Keys – Thickfreakness
Clem Snide – Soft Spot
Fountains of Wayne – Welcome Interstate Managers
Goldfrapp – Black Cherry
Mensen – Oslo City
Stephen Malkmus – Pig Lib
People Under the Stairs – Or Stay Tuned
Postal Service – Give Up
The Weakerthans – Reconstruction Site
White Stripes - Elephant

But first a few things for the new year....

2003-12-30T17:42:00.000-08:00

I will post my top ten albums of 2003, but that requires both time and effort and discipline, 2 of which I don't have. So, instead I will talk about what I want for the New Year. For 2004.

I want to reduce my dry cereal consumption.

I want to get a comfortable and sturdy couch.

I want to cook more and cook for others more.

I want to take deeper breaths.

I want to take more baths.

I want to make a film that I feel passionate about.

I want to write a couple short stories.

I want to meet friends for tea more often.

I want to play in the dirt on a regular basis.

I want to do more situps.

I want to make a website for my video projects.

I want to never get sick and never have car trouble.

I want to spend less time on the internet.

Been Lacking in Words Lately

2003-12-21T13:58:00.000-08:00

But now that I'm reading a truly great book, "10th Grade," I am ready to force the words back out. The book is a dead-on portrait of 10th grade from the point of view of Jeremiah Reskin, an average 15 year old in an average suburban high school. The language so perfectly captures the rhythms and thoughts of a horny, self-conscious teenage kid trying to appear non-chalant and cool amongst his peers. It also takes place in the 80's, which is when I went to high school. There's a great moment when Jeremy is at the mall with his sister and they go into "The Limited" to look for a dress for her. He sees a girl that he finds really attractive and starts rummaging through sweaters, taking peeks at her. He starts to imagine all sorts of heroic scenarios where he gets to save her from terrorists/thieves/college boys -- his reward being that he gets to walk her to her parents car in the parking lot.

I am an old man now. It is official. I am 37. I think the average lifespan is about 74 years for men (and I know someone is going to look this up on the internet and tell me that it's 75 or 76 or 80, but the point is it that I am at my mid-life now and am allowed a crisis) and so I officially have lived half my life. Which is very odd to me, because although there are moments when I feel old, or think I look old (or my age), there are more moments when I think I am still a teenager, trying to figure out my place in the world. Reading "10th Grade" only accentuates this, as I identify so much with Jeremy, so much more than characters in novels who are in their late 30's or older. Unless the character is emotionally stunted and pop-culture obsessed, like in "High Fidelity."

I had my annual Hannukah/Birthday bash the other night and although it was sorta fun (I don't really have fun at my own parties), I felt kinda bummed that it was basically over at 11pm. I'm told that this is a sign of getting older, that the older you get the earlier the guests leave at your parties. Also, the "4 hour" theory was explained to me. The theory is that people stay at parties for 4 hours, on the average, so if you want it to go late, start your party at 9pm. I, of course, instead see it as my failure at entertaining my guests sufficiently; maybe if I danced on the tables or got naked people would have stayed longer. Maybe the naked part would have ended the party even earlier; I'll choose to believe that my nakedness is always a benefit to any occasion.

I was impressed with the amount of drinking, though. 4 bottles of wine, 25 or so beers and a bunch of vodka and sake were ingested -- so the fact that it was over by 11 and no one got naked makes no sense to me. I think it's that getting old thing again. Alcohol just makes people over 30 go to sleep - there's a 10 minute window of euphoria and then a 3 hour downslide.

I'm listening to the new Marc Almond album, "Heart on Snow." It's really, really good. It's his "Russian folk-song" album. It makes me long for the old country. I get melancholy and clutch my chest, which is beneath layers of wool and fur-lined parkas, swig from a bottle of homemade Vodka and curse the bitter cold and the corrupt politicians. I'm no expert on Marc Almond - I have listened to maybe one of his 15 solo albums, but I know good music and this one is a good one. It's my first listen-thru, which if you've read my other blog entries, shouldn't surprise you; it's a testament to the strength of this album that I intend to listen to it again. He even sings in Russian on several songs, which is friggin' cool, if you ask me. It's the sort of album that I would have hated before a few years ago, when I became open-minded, musically. (I'm still closed-minded about most other things, especially fornication.) It's the sort of album I can play for my parents. Actually, I think my grandparents would have appreciated it more.

So, in case you were keeping track, I now have 7966 songs on my computer/Ipod. That's the equivalent of 20.2 days straight of music. Not that I'm bragging. It's just that some of you are keeping a tally and I want to present the figures.

Oh - the song that's playing now, "Gone But Not Forgotten," kinda sounds like Soft Cell a bit. More like Marc's voice is Soft Cellish. Or not. What the hell do I know.

How to help the crazy and deranged

2003-12-04T16:32:00.000-08:00

You know those people you see on the street who are mumbling to themselves, sometimes yelling nonsense at the top of their lungs? Those drunken, mentally unbalanced individuals that you tend to cross to the other side of the street to avoid? Well, I have a plan on how to get them to blend in with the rest of us.

Give them cell phones.

Not working ones - broken ones. If these raving lunatics (I think that's the term they prefer) are spouting gibberish into a phone, they will resemble the majority of the urban population who walk the street, seemingly talking to themselves. I think we are so used to people gesticulating wildly, waxing impassionately into their cell phones as we pretend to ignore them, that it no longer is considered rude. What's rude is to interrupt what I call the "cellular slam", this new form of street poetry, just because you get distracted from your daydream about that girl/boy on the 7th floor, Louis or Louise or whatever.

Broken phones, because I imagine the costs would be low or non-existent. There has to be a warehouse somewhere, full of unfixable cellphones, collecting dust, harming the environment. Also, chances are that these nutballs are too far gone as to be able to work one of these phones. Hell, I struggle with mine all the time and I'm the definition of mental acuity. So if the phones don't work, then issues such as which "plan" to sign up for are a thing of the past. They can talk for as many minutes as they want and it's all free. In fact, I think that it should become law that the people who talk to themselves -- the Jesus freaks, the mumblers, the non-sensical -- have to do their socially unpleasant work using a broken cellphone. That's a proposition I would try to get on the ballot. I think I'll pass this idea to Matt Gonzales -- perhaps it's the sort of brilliant concept that will get him past that lily-pad frat boy snob, Gavin Newsom.

Hmmm.....I didn't think I was going to write a pro "cell phone in public" piece, but hey, it's an opinion that doesn't get expressed much, and we all have them. Cellphones, I mean. I'm not sure if we all have opinions.

Fuzzy's Got Nothing to Say

2003-12-03T19:02:00.000-08:00

except that I need to get a new pair of glasses. I'm feeling out of step and out of sync in regards to my eyewear. Plus, the ones I have are scratched all to hell. I've stopped cleaning them due to an abundance of apathy and protest. Can one have an abundance of protest? Yes, if that one is me. And this one also has an abundance of schmutz on his glasses.

Band of 2003? Glad you asked. I'm not ready to offer my top ten releases of 2003 just yet, but I will let you know that The Decemberists will be at or near the top of that list. I discovered them this year, so three albums worth of material is "new" for me, though just one was released this year. I'm listening to "Castaways and Cutouts" right now and every song is amazing. I do like it more than the latest one, but that one is great too. They are so good that it's not fair to the other bands making music today.

I really could use a shower about now. Thank goodness this is a non-olfactory medium, this internet.

Live From New York

2003-11-27T19:31:00.000-08:00

It's me. We've been watching the "Dinner For Five" marathon on the IFC (thank goodness for cable....and thank goodness I don't have it at home to waste my life by) and after 2 and a half hours of it, I decided that I had spent enough time in front of a screen and jumped over to the computer to write to you people. My audience. My fans. My honored guests.

It's cold but not too cold here in NY. Keely and I are staying in the basement apartment in the building she lived in during her Jr. and High School years. I think that's right. Anyway, the people who live in this apt. are out of town and were nice enough to let us stay here with Keely's Mom and boyfriend.

We had a nice Thanksgiving dinner out at Finestra's. I had the salmon, in case you wondered. Joining us were family friend Dan (lives in L.A.), Keely's brother Matthew, and Jorge and Dominick who used to live in the building as well.

I really love New York. I love walking the streets and feeling small amongst the old, tall buildings. Every street seems to have a famous old restaurant, theater, apartment to admire.

Anyway - it's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live here. Unless it was my second house.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

Off to NY

2003-11-26T00:50:00.000-08:00

I'm outta here. Off to the land they call Nuevo York. I expect you all to (wo)man the ship in my absence. Be gentle but firm.

I'm gonna perform gluttony, chivalry and haberdashery. I just looked that up. I think it means to shop in a mens clothing store.

I'm taking lots of pictures (borrowed the digital camera from work), so it should be well documented.

Have a lovely holiday weekend. Tata!

Strong Like Bull

2003-11-24T10:21:00.000-08:00

So I think I'm becoming a major Taiko snob. Or maybe the word is "selective." I am finding that I like, or prefer to watch groups that choose syncopation, grace and brevity above power, strength and jamming. It's kind of a gender thing too. I notice that the male dominated groups are all about hitting really hard and flexing their penises. I'm all for flexing penises, as long as I'm doing the flexing and I don't have to watch the video later, but I prefer, as an audience member to look at the girls. They can hit just as hard for the most part but without looking like they are getting back at the bully who picked on them in High School. They look better in momohiki (tights-like pants) and, to me, look more natural playing the drum. The Odaiko is maybe the only drum where a man has an advantage and that is because of the strength factor. Though Tiffany Tamarabuchi is pretty badass. So I can't really stereotype, no matter how hard I try.

San Jose Taiko is the perfect taiko group. They are pretty split down the middle, 50/50 as far as gender goes and they really focus on movement and form. Their songs are dynamic and include solos without veering into showoffy "look at me" territory.

I should start stalking the SJ Taiko people and then kidnap them and demand that they make me as good as them. Or take one of their classes.

comments out of hand

2003-11-21T17:11:00.000-08:00

Gotta have a new post so that comments get equally distributed across the electronic landscape that is my mind. Soup Fest is about to begin....

Shouldn't have had that cookie

2003-11-20T16:27:00.000-08:00

I feel like I've been dipped in oil and locked in a pig pen. Maybe it's the new shirt. Maybe it's the cookie. Maybe it's the fact that this room has no ventilation. If I wasn't in a corporate facility, I'd welcome these moist conditions.

So, I saw "The Station Agent" last night. Finally, a movie I didn't find to be a waste of my time. In fact I liked TSA a lot. Can't say I loved it; there were too many small elements that didn't sit right. But the characters were complex, the acting was strong and the tone was right. It is a small movie, the kind I definitely go for. Script dependent, human drama. My problems were with the music (scored by Stephen Trask who wrote such great music for Hedwig and the Angry Inch....maybe this wasn't his milieu) and a tendency to treat all the characters similiarly (good hearted, dealt bad breaks, overcoming tragedy). It did feel fresh, and dealt honestly with such issues as loneliness, loss, connection and self-image, which are big issues to try and tackle. It also starred a dwarf, which I particularly appreciated, being only about 10 inches taller than him. (To compare - I think about how ten inches taller than me is only 6 foot 1, a perceived "average" height.) I don't have to deal with people constantly staring at me and making fun of me, but I did get teased a fair amount in school and still get into moods where I feel "less than" taller people. I can relate to the aspect of the main character's perception that he isn't seen as a sexual person, and I thought the film dealt with that admirably. When the two main female characters spend the night in his station room (two separate instances), albeit not for sexual purposes, and Joe, the lunch truck cook sees the women leave in the morning, he never considers that The Station Agent DIDN'T sleep with them. (Though a kiss is shared with the Station Agent and the librarian, it was more from a place of tender affection, not libido.) Joe's reaction is nice, because he doesn't doubt for a second the Station Agent's potential studliness and in fact bows to it. It's a bittersweet comic note, because the Station Agent (sorry, I don't know his character's name) probably feels like the guy who doesn't get the girl, or the guy who the girl can "really talk to." I'm glad this wasn't explicitly expressed in the film and perhaps I'm projecting my own emotional reactions from being the "guy girls can really talk to" (though I think it's there without my input). I think the film isn't wanting us to feel sorry for the dwarfish Station Agent character, but rather see him how he would like to be seen: a complete person like everyone else.

Hedwig and the Angry Copycats

2003-11-18T14:27:00.000-08:00

OK, there's a new album out that seems particularly inspired. I've listened to part of it, but not all, so I cannot properly review it yet. The album is called "Wig In A Box" and it's an all covers version of the Hedwig and the Angry Inch soundtrack. Being that the original soundtrack is already amazing, it would seem that a covers album would pale in comparison, but check out the artists who are on this album....Rufus Wainwright, Sleater-Kinney with Fred Schneider (of B52's fame), They Might Be Giants, Frank Black, Robyn Hitchcock, The Breeders, Bob Mould, Imperial Teen, Polyphonic Spree, Spoon, Yoko Ono with Yo La Tengo, Ben Kweller with Ben Folds with Ben Lee, Cyndi Lauper with the Minus 5 (members of REM and Young Fresh Fellows), and finally.....Jonathan Richman.

Holy shit. That is like my dream compilation. They could be covering songs by Dashboard Confessional and I'd get the album. (note: I love pop music, especially emo-style pop music, but I hate, hate, hate Dashboard Confessional.)
To compare it to the original is not fair -- the original has a kick-ass band that plays all the songs, which gives it the necessary cohesion. The tribute will undoubtedly be all over the place. But inspired, to be sure. It's a tribute to John Cameron Mitchell, but also a fundraiser for the Harvey Milk School, so give up the cash and buy this CD. Don't be like me and make a copy.

I'm a technological whiz

2003-11-17T16:27:00.000-08:00

So I've figured out the problems to my iPod (long story, not interesting), and I've discovered how to add links to the right side column of the blog. So, I'm gonna start putting my favorite links up here for you to peruse. I'm gonna guess that putting porn links up here is poo-pooed, so you'll all have to request those individually.

The downside to all of this problem solving is that it takes time. Time that could be better used finishing jobs for paying clients. Time that could be better used by showering. Time that could be better used by cleaning my apartment.

I wish I had something profound to proffer here. Something prolific, something pronounceable, something problem-free, programmed to prostrate. But I sit and attempt to access that deepest part of me....ummpfff....reaching way in there.....criiiick!!!.....strained neck.....should have played more twister.....think I got it.....uhhh, uhhh, uhhh.....nope. Completely empty. Maybe next time.

Cool Shit

2003-11-15T17:38:00.000-08:00

So Keely is trying to torture me by playing me this really cool Flash Movie. She thinks it's actually possible to torture me this way. It's rather humorous. She's left the music on my answering machine, she forwards me the link, plays it on her computer....I sort of am ready to get a CD burned with the track filling all 80 minutes. That would be really cool, actually.

Watch it and tell me that it's possible to get sick of this. OK, watch it and tell me that it's possible FOR ME to get sick of it. Most everyone knows of my high tolerance for repetitive ridiculousness; hell, I've had to live with myself for 36+ years.

My musical choice of the day is FRANK BLACK. I've written about him before, but that was before I really listened to his latest album, "Show Me Your Tears." Not every song is perfect, but he's always following his muse and not caring what anyone else says. I really don't get why he's always getting bad reviews in the press. I must go to his next concert.

Am I really this old?

2003-11-14T09:25:00.000-08:00

It's not really the proper time to write about feeling old since I'm feeling relatively healthy, my back is fine, I still act stupid and childish and I remain completely irresponsible....yet that's what popped into my head and so I felt I must honor the thought, if only for the length of a title to a blog entry.

I didn't go to Taiko class last night and I think I'm supposed to feel more guilty about it than I do. I needed a night to chill at home and I didn't see one of those coming in the near future and since the song we're working on in Thursday night taiko class is one I know pretty well and don't like all that much I figured, "tonight's the night."

The internet is down at work (on the DSL computers) so I can only use my network computer which has blocked all email sites (but not blog sites yet), and is probably tracking this blog entry as I type it. A memo based on my non-compliance is being written as I speak. Oh well. I'm not a good corporate soldier.

I hope you liked my audio blog, but not too much, as there won't be another. I am too cheap to pay for such a service and hell, if you want to hear my voice, pick up the phone. Unless you don't know my phone number; in that case, yell really loud.

I made a pan of corn bread last night and I'm not sure how this is directly related, but I feel a bit more connected to my home now and wish I could race back home and give my apartment a big hug. Or maybe I just don't want to be at work.

2003-11-11T15:12:00.000-08:00

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Jazzy but not really

2003-11-10T15:53:00.000-08:00

Really enjoyed the Marc Ribot/Bill Frisell concert. Much more than I thought I would. I thought Marc Ribot and his band were a little bit like old Santana-lite meets Buena Vista Social Club-lite which sounds like more of a compliment than it should. Cool songs that seemed to all start with some sort of wanky guitar-noise solo that transitioned into a Cuban rhythm -- percussion, piano, drums and stand up bass weaving into the mix. I guess it never sounded like anything special. It was cool to see a couple of talented percussionists, but the mix was very tinny and the band never seemed to really catch fire.

I was worried that Bill Frisell would be all noodly and mellow and tuneless (like the last time I saw him at the SF Jazz Fest two years ago). But reading the program, I saw the list of other musicians in his band and became hopeful. A Malian percussionist, Greek oud player, Brazilian guitarist/vocalist/percussionist, a violinist, slide guitarist and ol' Bill himself. I had met the Greek oud player (I remember his name is Christo, and he is considered a master of the instrument) at Balkan Music Camp three years ago and was excited to see him again.

All the songs, except maybe one, were hypnotic and captivating, never resorting to over-long solos or improvisational noodling. I did indeed snooze through part of the show, but that was because the music was so transfixing that it put me into a state of extreme relaxation, often misinterpreted as sleep. The show was neither too long nor too short and I was happy with our seat location as well. Even the pole that stood in our direct line of sight didn't really bother me.

Fuzzy's Gone Interactive

2003-11-10T15:38:00.000-08:00

You all (my huddled masses) have probably noticed a little blue "comments" tab under each of my blog entries, being the perceptive cyberfolk I know you are. This is so you can give me direct feedback to the deep thoughts and wisdoms I proffer. You have the option of making your replies "private" or "public", so if you are concerned about others reading your comments, then hit the private button.

Of course you can also be anonymous in that I cannot tell exactly who is sending me what messages. Use a fake name, fake email, whatever. But since about 5 people know about this blog, I should be able to narrow it down pretty fast.

To get you started, I have sent a comment to myself as an example of how to respond properly. Check it out. Amen to that, brother! is what I think I said.

Rockin' out to the Black Keys right now -- I think they do the White Stripes better than the White Stripes.

I'm done

2003-11-07T18:11:00.000-08:00

And I feel relieved, sad, nervous and a bit elated. I cancelled my membership with Emusic.com. Not that I can't download music elsewhere, but no longer can I download entire albums with the click of a button, no longer can I add 15 interesting Bossa Nova releases to my collection in a couple hours. But I did get through my list of 50 held albums in my list. I decided not to take about 8 of them, but I do have about 140 albums that I really haven't listened to which is more than most people purchase from record stores in a given 5 years, so I'm certainly not complaining. In fact, I expect none of you dear readers to empathize with me in any way, shape or form. Well, maybe form. I suppose you can relate to the addiction side of it, and maybe the thirst for musical nourishment, but the greed, the utter lack of appreciation for the ONE PARTICULAR ALBUM because it gets lots amid the gluttonous mounds....that I can understand, should you feel that way. Perhaps I will use a future blog entry to list the music that I have recently downloaded, so that you can share in my wealth. It's certainly not bragging - nor is it particularly selfless - my wanting you to see my collection. But I am happy to share and happy to care and happy to have no hair and happy to use a whole lot of words that end in are, air, and the like. I'm delirious and in need of a good bowel movement and about to experience some fine jazz.

Punch Drunk Stupid

2003-11-06T18:31:00.000-08:00

I've had three cafeinnated beverages and the part you don't know is that I've made about 43 typos already in this blog entry. I've chewed about 43 sticks of gum today as well. Not to mention 43 grams of sugar. I planned on going home after work before heading to the city to meet Keely for the Beulah concert, but I can't seem to unglue myself from the computer, get on BART go home, change, grab clothes for tomorrow, walk back to BART and then head to the city. So many steps, when simply staying at work, chewing gum, downloading music, writing emails, wearing the same clothes and taking BARt directly from work seems easier. Of course there's the whole wearing the same clothes thing, but hey, love me for all my flavors and permutations.

Off to rock out to some cool pop tunes.

New Life For New Music

2003-11-06T13:06:00.000-08:00

And I really shouldn't be doing this, but an addiction is an addiction....with just two days left of unlimited downloading from the Emusic.com membership, I thought I was done. So many fellow music addicts all trying to get their last fixes in at the same time had clogged the lines to the point of false downloads. A long list of ZERO KB files in my MP3 folder and a echoing "NO!!!" into a cavernous musicless abyss. Could I be satisfied with only 100 new albums to listen to? I had 150 bookmarked for download and some of those 100 already downloaded had missing songs. I needed complete albums! What if song #8 is the best one? What if I can never complete my Elf Power collection because of EMUSIC.COM's lack of server space? Would I actually BUY the album containing the missing song? That just feels wrong - like being stuck in the gut by the man.

So, having a t1 line at work, I thought that I could try to download some songs while editing my latest CORPORATE VIDEO EPIC. And apparantly I can. I downloaded and installed the necessary software (note to self: uninstall said software after this Friday) and for some reason, most of the roadblocks keeping me from obtaining the last 50 albums in my cyber collection have vanished (though not all of them....explanations to perhaps appear in a later entry) and I have only 40 albums left to download. 10 new albums, which I will perhaps one day listen to, added to my collection.

And I've made at least 2 edits during the day so far. I'm a bad man.

about 1/100th of the way to the first draft of my novel

2003-11-03T15:28:00.000-08:00

And I have a new title for it. The Amazing Adventures of Sherman Gunkenschmutz. It's loosely based on a guy I knew when I was 16 who was the epitome of nerdy awkwardness. Extremely tall and skinny, untamable limbs, bad acne, oversized glasses, big fro, sweaty. But the biggest stoner I'd ever known and a huge Rush fan. I was the short, athletic, regular-sized glasses, mullet-haired, non-sweaty version of him. We both worked at CVS pharmacy in the Panoroma City mall, which was the "bad" mall, where none of the cool people hung out and attracted gang bangers. They were probably called something else at that time.

Of course I'm wasting good words for the novel by paraphrasing what I'm writing about but so fucking what. I'm thinking of changing his name to Herman Gookensplunk, but that's neither here nor there.

The story will reveal another character, Victoria, a 23-year old babe who gets hired at CVS to work the night shift (when we both worked) and how Sherman and myself and Victoria would get stoned in one of our cars on break and secretly wish she would teach us the ropes of womanness.

It will have heartache, heartbreak, heartburn and capture the essence of awkward longing in the hearts and loins of two teenage losers as they navigate the turbulent seas of adolescent angst.

Am I writing the notes for the back cover? I'm good at that part of writing. I wish there was a job for simply writing summaries of books using cliches and stereotypes yet somehow making each one sound fresh and appealing.

I'm having trouble coming to terms with the fact that since I've returned from Japan, my wrist and ankle pains have resurfaced. If any of it is psychosomatic, then it's buried pretty deep because it was the last thing I was expecting. I had forgotten about my foot and for two days was walking gingerly. And of course the x-rays were negative and I will simply have to learn to live with it. Through suffering comes courage, right folks?

I'm now out of chocolate chips and all I have to eat at home are those bengal lentils boxes that you get at Trader Joes. The kind you put in boiling water for 3 minutes and voila!

Two cool concerts this week. Thursday it's Beulah (last shows of their tour) with John Vanderslice opening (I'm a big fan of him as well) and Friday it's Bill Frisell and Marc Ribot at the Calvin Simmons Theatre in Oakland as part of the SF Jazz Festival. Hopefully it won't be boring. I've heard some of Marc Ribot's Cuban stuff and it's really cool and interesting. I just hope Bill Frisell isn't in one of his noodling phases. He's an amazing guitarist - I liked the stuff he did with Elvis Costello a lot - but you never know what you're gonna get with him. I will probably drink wine and hold my pinkie out for that show.

OK - enough. I tell you, ENOUGH! I've got responsibilities and must attend to them immediately! How dare you distract me so!

chisuu

2003-10-31T12:09:00.000-08:00

that's what you say when someone is taking your picture in Japan. Of course it makes your lips pucker, which may or may not be a good thing. Today, the coffee is not keeping me alert, rather it is making my stomach sour and my eyes heavy. Not sleeping well at all, trying to get to the point where breathing with my belly becomes second nature.

tomorrow begins the nanowrimo month and i'm ready to blast off into my 50,000 word galaxy. I started something earlier today and I'm thinking I should procure a laptop to keep me going at all times. Only, where do I get one? I have no real novelesque ideas; I'm just hoping it all comes together one word at a time. Hopefully it won't be a self-indulgent mess. A sort of bullshit memoir. Actually if that's what it becomes, that's fine with me. Because a novel based on the gaseous thinkings of moi may still become great American Literature.

I need to troubleshoot the computer system here at work - I'm trying to edit my project, and so far I've gotten nothing done. Mostly because I can't seem to get the deck to input into the computer, but also because I am tired and filled with sugar and caffeine and have the attention of a shitsu on crack.

Whatever happened to Ione Skye? I'll ponder that, and then look her up on Imdb.com.

Jet Lag or Simply Lazy?

2003-10-29T14:11:00.000-08:00

I'm back. Almost two months of bloglessness and I'm embarrassed and ashamed. This should never happen and if I could promise that it will never happen again I would, but the truth is that when it comes to priorities, face to face blogging will always win out.

I think I'm addicted to music downloading. I've downloaded over 100 albums in the past week. And have I listened to more than 3 of them? I think you know the answer to that. But although it may seem like an addiction, I see it as a chance to expand my musical vocabulary and in turn, your musical vocabulary, as I am a believer in sharing my wealth with others. If only I could get paid for my musical expansiveness.

I was up until 4am last night downloading songs and trying to teach myself DVD Studio Pro 2. At the same time. Not the most productive method of learning new software. I need to make a DVD of the Mosaic Project video I made last year. I can certainly do the DVD in IDVD, but I didn't pirate DVD Studio Pro 2 to sit on my computer and collect viruses. I needed a deadline project like this to get my ass in gear; unfortunately the gear is stuck in my ass and that gear is neutral. It's time to relax my sphincter and get moving.

I'm gonna sign up for the Nanowrimo Contest. Will I actually write 20,000 words in the month of November? Chances aren't good. I tend to use a lot of big words and ponder deeply on heavy concepts and this isn't conducive to the quantity over quality design of Nanowrimo. But I'll try and see if something good can come of such a project. I will encourage Keely to complete the task, even if I give up around the 5,000 word level.

Why is there so much good fucking music out there? Why can't I be closed minded and into Scottish Polka and only Scottish Polka? It's quite a burden to be so open minded and knowledgable on such a wide variety of musics. It's the curse a genius like me has to bear.

Regarding the jet lag....I slept from 4am until past noon and although that is indeed 8 hours which is the recommended nightly allowance according to the FDA, I cannot help but feel guilty, like I am somehow disappointing my fans by not using those sleeping hours to create great literature, funky beats, exotic recipes, subtly subversive documentaries. A guys gotta get his beauty sleep is how I would respond. Have you seen the bags under my eyes? When I go to the supermarket, the checkers don't even ask me whether I want paper or plastic anymore; they figure I can just load the groceries in my face.

So, this is the end of today's blog. Just so you know, the soundtrack to today's blog is The Pernice Brothers' "Australia 2002."

Japanese is harder than Spanish

2003-09-10T09:58:00.000-07:00

Or maybe I'm just dumber now. That's a given. Actually, Japanese is pretty tough to learn. The subject is first in a sentence then the object and the sentence ends in a verb. So I go to the store is written: I to the store go. Actually that kinda makes sense. But there are modifier words that come after the subject (like wa, no, e) that indicate when the subject is over and the object begins. Kinda interesting, except there are a zillion modifier words and they pertain to things like the shape of the object and (flat, round) and the size of it (bigger than a breadbox, etc.). And what's gonna happen is that I'm gonna learn just enough to be dangerous. No, that's not true. Anything helps. I'll be with Japanese speakers, so it won't be too tough. I can just give them my money and say, "give me back whatever the change is."

I was sitting on my foot just then, as I wrote that last paragraph, and now my foot is cramping. But at least I have fancy new pillows that will solve all my shoulder and neck problems. And a sexy woman to share my bed with, who also gets a fancy pillow. Maybe I should get a foot pillow.

I have to water the garden now; so sorry for such a short entry, but you'll take what you can get, won't you?

You've come to the write place

2003-08-26T16:17:00.000-07:00

I'd have to say that this title is quite funny, in a sweet and self-conscious sort of way. I am so aware of you, dear reader, so aware of your angelic presence, the way you lovingly visit my words, caressing them with your gaze, undressing them as it were, your eyelashes massaging the musculature of the vowels, your firm hands breaking down the tightness of the consonants.

I can smell you, the sweet scent of powdered sugar on your breath. And when was the last time you washed that jacket? No, no worries, I rather enjoy the complex odorificiousness emanating from it. In a couple days it may become rather unpleasant, but for now, your pungententialifericiousness is quite intoxicacious.

Can I just say that Prince made a misstep when he put out the "Come" album? Other than Letitgo and Come, the rest of the songs are pretty weak and uninspired. Interesting that "The Gold Experience" came out the next year. That, dear readers, is a fucking great album. I wish I had the time now to describe how fucking great it is. Alas I do not. Just get the album, or if you already have it, put it on again, and tell me I'm wrong.

Quiet Amongst All the Noise

2003-08-26T12:29:00.000-07:00

That is the key I think. Finding the quiet. Noticing the textures, the bumpy and the rippled, the smooth and the sharp. I think all my favorite songs are in a minor key.

I'm listening to Death Cab For Cutie's, "We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes." It is the epitome of a minor key album. Gentle plucky guitars and ebbing and flowing melodies, sort of a circular, breathing swirl of melancholy. I'm also at work. I'm writing a script about how CSR's (customer service reps) at branches can refer customers who are in the market for a home loan to the SLS (savings loan specialist). It's quite exciting stuff. I'm hoping that the music I listen to will imbue the script with some deeper level of humanity. Maybe I'll have the customer break down in tears...."I never thought I'd ever get a home loan!!!....My prayers have been answered!" And then the CSR will remind the customer that she only referred her to the SLS, chances are that she will be denied the loan because crazy loons without a lot of money tied up in CD's or annuities are poo-pooed at World Savings.

That will create an added element of drama and surprise which will surely shake the comatose audience from their lilypad corporate moorings. I think I should look up the word mooring, but I think it's used properly.

Since I am at work I am now required to do that which I am paid to do and so must go and do that which I am paid to do, namely work.

I can crack my neck like this!

2003-08-22T17:20:00.000-07:00

All I gotta do is shake my head back and forth violently! Even not-so-violently does it. I've got to reverse this recent trend toward muscle tightness, tendonitis and arthritic achiness. I think I need to get new pillows, do more yoga, start acupuncture again, get weekly massages (after finding a sugar mama....maybe some rich doctor?) and relax my shoulders. That's all I need to do. And eat more carrots. That's always a good thing.

I'm going to have to work on my script for work this weekend as I got none of it done today. I didn't really waste the day, I did put together a casting reel for the next video and that takes a few hours, but I could have at least started the script. Oh well. I won't lose sleep over it. But I probably will lose some waking time. Not sure what that means.

Sometimes I'm really funny. Humorous in a wholly original, multi-faceted way. Other times I'm embarrassingly not-funny. Embarrassing for you people. Not me. I am convinced that I'm 100 percent funny. And when you don't laugh it's only because you haven't reached up the level where the humor is yet. Notice I didn't say "sunk down to" the level. That's because my sense of humor is of a level so complex and layered that the laughing reaction may not happen until minutes, hours, even days later.

You may ask yourself - how does he maintain such a high level of wit and charm? Is it because he is blessed with an enormous funny bone? Is he a humor scavenger, scraping together bits from all around him, building a self-perpetuating, freaky joke-monster? That's so nice of you to consider this, but I am really just like you. A man with faults and concerns and a need for quiet time every once in a while. Do not put me on a pedestal - even if that would make me about average height.

More dreams

2003-08-20T11:16:00.000-07:00

that are a bit fuzzy now, but one I remember vaguely had me and Colin and Jill and Tisha driving in Colin's car (he doesn't have one in reality) to Japan. In the dream, Japan is like Mexico, it is our neighbor to the south. We drive and arrive in about 3 hours. When we get there, Japan is like a Dr. Seuss drawing. The hills are steep and green and all the colors are rich and exaggerated. We find the 80's motel, where all the rooms are decorated to represent different 80's new wave bands. There is the Flock of Seagulls room and the Cure room and the Duran Duran room and all the rooms have posters of the bands and graffiti related to the bands spray painted on the walls. Of course songs are heard continuously from ceiling speakers. Colin thinks this is the greatest place that ever existed and all I can think is that this is not what I expected Japan to be like. And I wondered if there was a Kenny Loggins room.

Another dream I had....My grandfather (Mom's Dad) is dying and in bed. He's in his apartment (the one I remember going to as a teenager) and no one else is there. He is on his stomach and is coughing. He sort of is hanging off the side of the bed a bit. He is a bit gnarled and constricted. I start to give him a massage and his skin is cool and clammy. He immediately relaxes when I do this. I massage his back and arms and shoulders and he starts to become smaller, as if he is shrinking. Not in an exaggerated way, but sort of like the tension and fear of death he was holding in his body had made him a larger person and now that I was relaxing him he was fading away. I told him not to hold on, that wherever he was going was a good place. It was almost as if he was giving me his life and I could feel it feeding me through my fingers. I remember feeling so torn - both being a conduit for him to move on and the force that was ending his life.

Very strange - especially since I've been thinking about my grandmother (Dad's Mom) a lot lately. She comes back to me in dreams a lot. I would have dreams where she is still alive and in the dream I was so sure she had died and was confused how I could have thought that if here she is, cooking a matzoball soup and gossiping about the other ladies in the building? I was her favorite - she would tell me that all the time. I felt guilty -- because I thought you were supposed to love your grandkids equally -- but secretly I basked in those comments. I was the only one in the family who never got frustrated or annoyed at my Grandma's eccentricities. She was funny as hell and that she would steal all the sweet and lows, equals and sugars at the restaurants (dump them directly into her huge purse) was so cool to me. She would complain about her food being too cold or not what she wanted after all, and I thought she was just wielding her power. I remember one time, we were at the Cheesecake Factory in Woodland Hills (big restaurant, big menu) with the whole family and Nana Muriel (I never did call her Grandma) was looking at the bar menu and noticed the drink "sex on the beach." She thought it was the funniest name ever. When the waitress came over (a cute 20ish girl) to take our orders, Nana loudly asked, "what's this 'sex on the beach'? have you ever had sex on the beach?" The waitress was so embarrassed and turned an assortment of red -- and I couldn't stop laughing all night long. The rest of my family thought Nana was being obnoxious and rude. I imagine she's still torturing waitstaffs somewhere, reminding people to lighten up a bit.

soy mocha

2003-08-19T11:37:00.000-07:00

and a baguettey thing from Arizmendi. That's what I've injested so far. In case you were wondering. I'm a little bit jittery, but in a good way. I am at work and I really should be doing work-related things as there are many of them to be done but instead I blog and feel guilty and put off what I am paid to do. I look at this procrastination action as a method of inspiring me toward real focused productive work, that the ecstasy I develop here in this bloggish creation will propel me into a world of unfathomable productivity. I will become worker concentrate. What takes most employees an hour to complete I will finish in 5 minutes. I will be the whirling dervish of World Savings. I will probably be promoted to CEO or VP and all the suits will wonder "who that guy is."

I slept well, thanks for asking. I had a dream that I killed someone and had to hide the body but I didn't hide it very well and was certain I was about to be caught. I think I was on the run but I can't remember. This would lead one to think I didn't sleep well. That murderous dreams would signify a frightful night. Usually I'd agree, but I also had a dream where I was being seduced by an older woman who looked like Jacqueline Bisset. Circa 1985. I think it was at the airport or a big office building. I'm not sure. I do remember that I was playing it real cool and my aloofness was a big turn-on to Jacqueline (let's call her that for now). It never became sexual; no clothes were shed. But the energy - I'm telling you, I had Jackie wrapped around my....finger. So, the combination of the disturbing dream and the sex dream sort of offset each other and I ended up having a pretty good night of sleep.

Badly Dressed Boy

2003-08-18T16:05:00.000-07:00

Listening to the Badly Drawn one and thought that I should start a solo project based on my fashion (non)sense. I could do a runway show, strutting cocksuredly, wearing ill-fitting Jordache jeans and a sleeveless striped shirt (horizontal stripes) with a headband and maybe some legwarmers. For some reason I hear George Michael's "Freedom" played on the soundtrack, but sung by Michael Stipe, and the Brodsky Quartet playing the music.

I dripped chocolate sorbet on my bright yellow "Velveeta" t-shirt and I'm hoping the the water I rubbed into the stain will take care of it. It's really the only "cool" shirt I own and I don't want to have to go back to NY to get another one. I would like to go back to NY actually. Whenever I go there I feel like I don't really get to stay long enough to see much. That all my NY friends are dirt poor doesn't help.

In two months time I will be in Japan, immersed in a new culture, unable to read the signs, understand what anyone is saying or (maybe) write in my blog. I start my conversational Japanese class tonight. It's really just a tutor, my friend Tiffany and myself. I'm hoping my mental block for learning new languages unclogs, because it will really be a good thing to understand a little Japanese. I'm imagining that I will be quite popular in Japan. Both women and men will have sexual stirrings and a few may wonder where they know me from. Is he....? He sure does look familiar....

Several times today my body began to contort into the shape it usually takes when I'm about to sneeze and each time no sneeze came forth and this distresses me greatly. I lean to the right, then the left, like Joe Cocker on stage, knees bent awkwardly, fists clenched, awaiting the cathartic release. I can't help but wonder if it all has a deeper meaning. Am I stifling more than just a few innocent germs?

I must eat a vegetable before the sun sets tonight.

Too Late For the Kayaking Story?

2003-08-16T21:20:00.000-07:00

It feels so anticlimactic to finish transcribing my kayak trip journal. It was more than 3 weeks ago now and I've moved on. The most telling part is that my bruise that I acquired on the trip is almost gone. And I didn't even get to the bruise making moment of the trip. How pathetic.

Have I mentioned how awesome a softball player I am yet? I am. I'm really good and I mean this in an ego-free, empirical context. I'm not so sure that I like my team very much though; most of the men are either too macho or too unapproachable. The women are friendlier, warmer and talk to me which is of course to be expected. Other than Samantha none of them I would imagine befriending outside of the softball context. Keely and Colin are already my friends and if anything, sharing the field with them has deepened my friendships with both of them. There's nothing quite like scoring runs with people you care about.

I'm listening to Grandpaboy, which is really Paul Westerberg finally channeling his Replacements persona. It's the closest he's gotten to reaching the brilliance of 1985's "Tim." I remember seeing the Replacements play live at the Country Club in the Valley....it was one of the best shows ever. The Replacements were always known for being either the best live band or the worst, depending on their level of drunkenness. They were pretty drunk at this show, but were so sloppy and loose that they were tighter than Cher's cheeks (either ones). Ok, that was a belabored analogy, but I couldn't think of another "tight" example that was both funny and fitting. Nothing that wasn't offensive to my puritan readers. Is that puritanical readers? I wish I had a siamese twin who was really good with grammar and would correct my grammatical missteps, in a loving and supportive manner.

I was supposed to videotape a live women's boxing match tonight at the Oakland Colosseum, but Gina "Boom Boom" Guidi, the boxer of note, didn't get her blood tests cleared in time and so it was cancelled. So lame. I was really looking forward to a real job for a change. The excitement and pressure of capturing a live event like that. Going backstage and shooting the post-fight interview. Oh well. I got to take a nap. That is never a bad thing.

I really should eat something, as all I've had today is a 1/2 apple, a cup of soup and a piece of bread. It's 9:15pm. I'm not especially hungry. I have been eating less lately, not really thinking about it. Cooking feels like a nuisance. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe I'm satisfying my hunger in other ways. Hey, that's not what I mean. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

abandonment

2003-08-10T01:26:00.000-07:00

Yeah, it's true, I've abandoned my blog, but not because of laziness. It's busyness that has kept me away. I couldn't even finish the kayaking trip story. I'm a loser, yes I know. But this blog above all else is for me and there will be moments, some of which may last days, where I achieve my satisfaction away from the home of musings and warblings and this is not to say that you and this "space" are not valued and important, it's just that I've got a lot of love to spread and folks in need of it request my presence on a regular basis.

I made another mix CD for Keely and I'm listening to it now. There's a song on it called "Hung Up In You" by Madder Rose that is really sweet and tender and now it has just ended and Ryan Adams' "Gonna Make You Love Me" is playing, which is good because I was starting to feel a little vulnerable. I was about to ask for a hug. But now I'm more in the mood for a kiss. Something with a little tongue. Just a little. No wide, flat, down the throat forceful stuff. That will just ruin the mood. Now it's Nicolai Dunger, who I discovered recently and I think he can become the next big thing. He's the Swedish Van Morrison. Really soulful stuff. Great voice. Lots of horns. Very early 70's, Moondance-era stuff. And for you girls (and guys, I suppose), he's pretty fine on the eyes. Look him up on the web and tell me I'm wrong.

My bruise is healing nicely now and I'm nearing optimal physical readiness. I'm going to take Step Class for the first time in a month tomorrow. I've really fallen off the wagon as far as going to the gym goes. That was a poorly structured sentence. I shouldn't have used "going" and "goes" so close together. I apologize for not spending the time to frame that better.

I really should go to bed now, I have a long day ahead of me. A day I plan to savor and let swirl around in my mouth.

Day1

2003-08-04T11:32:00.000-07:00

July 26th -
2nd day of the kayaking trip. Don't expect to get much in the form of detailed description of flora and fauna here. I will use the words TREES and FLOWERS to represent the plant-life and the words LITTLE CRITTER and BIG CRITTER to designate animal-life.

The drive up was uneventful and hot. No car troubles, no arguments, no long waits for the ONECARTHATMADEAWRONGTURN. Also no music, as my makeshift car stereo (tinny little porto speakers hooked into a walkman) is completely inaudible while driving at high speeds with the windows down. BC, the event organizer and all around good guy drove with me.

Here's a breakdown of the cast of characters and the cars they rode in on. In Rochelle's car were: Rochelle, Gretchen, Heather and Katie. In Laurel's car were: Laurel, Autumn and Sara (with no H). In Steve (not me)'s car were Steve (not me) and Greg. And my truck had BC and myself. To put it all in context: Rochelle is my ex-girlfriend Joanne's ex-roommate. She and Autumn are close friends. In fact it was Autumn who introduced Joanne to me way back when at a dinner party. Autumn and I are good friends, which is probably easy to deduce from this using the A + B = C methodology. BC is Autumn's fiancee. I will be missing their wedding as I will be in Japan. This bums me out, but they won't reschedule their wedding.

Laurel is Autumn's younger sister, who lives in Santa Cruz. Heather is Rochelle's good friend, and the only other person I knew beforehand. Katie is the roommate of Autumn & BC's good friends (names to be inserted here later) and is very nice. I don't think she knew anyone on the trip other than BC and Autumn. Greg is an old roommate of BC's and is a 6'5" redhead with fair skin. He's also very funny. Not as funny as me, but pretty damn funny. He, Rochelle, BC and Autumn had done this same trip last year. Steve (not me) and Sara (no H) are married and live in El Sobrante, where we picked up the inflatable kayaks and the gear. They are total outdoorsy types and super sweet people. Last is Gretchen, and I'm not quite sure her connection to the group, but I think she's BC's cousin.

Oh, BTW, here's a link to some pictures of where the trip was:

We set out after about 2 hours of kayak inflation, dry bag organization, bag tie-down, and melted chocolate cookie eating (in case you are unaware - chocolate melts in the heat, and is not a recommended food choice for 100 degree kayak trips). I was the 2nd to last to depart, with BC as the designated Caboose.

Almost immediately I crashed into a clump of trees and then got stuck on a rock. After this initial moment of retardation, I discovered my rhythm and a crashless journey downriver until the first night's camp followed. There were lots of calm patches in which to coast and enjoy the TREES, FLOWERS AND CREATURES. No roads or phone lines within eye or ear shot.

I just remembered another incident of kayak fun. I was cruising along, managing all the rapids just fine when I came upon Sara (no h). Somehow she knew to move to the left at the upcoming rapids and avoided the big rock. Somehow I didn't. I knew I'd have to get out of the kayak to dislodge the kayak, which did work, but because of the force of the water, I couldn't just get back in and either had to let the kayak go ahead or do a headfirst dive into the kayak. Head first in the kayak isn't the best position in which to steer, especially with the oar beneath me, and I found myself heading directly for a huge tree jutting out from the hillside. So I jumped out and pulled the kayak away from the evil trunk. Only now the water was 6 feet deep and I couldn't hoist myself back in the kayak without tipping it, so I swam alongside for a while until BC caught up to me and I used his kayak for leverage and got back in. About 2 minutes later, just before camp, BC capsized and tipped completely over.

It was 5:30 when we got to camp and some of us swam and played in the water. Some set up camp and some drank a lot of beer and smoked a lot of pot. I was assigned to that group. Eventually, dinner (lentil stew and cucumber salad - YUM!) was ready (thanks, Autumn/BC) and we all sat around swatting mosquitos and playing cards. Actually the mosquitos weren't bad at all -- I was just trying to add some drama. We played Hearts and Greg won, but had the least amount of visible fun, so really Autumn won because she had the most amount of visual fun.

Stargazing followed and then sleep. We had two large tarps spread out and all laid our thermarests and sleeping bags on them and awaited the next day of fun in the sun.

2003-08-04T09:40:00.000-07:00

OK, here's a day to day breakdown of my river kayaking trip of July 26-28th. This is a rough transcription of the journal I took while on the trip. The last day of the trip will soon be posted. Hopefully it'll feel like being there yourself!

2003-07-31T16:32:00.000-07:00

Well it appears that the river kayaking journal has not been magically transcribed by grammarian dwarves as I had dreamnt last night. I guess the ol' saying "if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself" applies here. But what if I don't want something done right? Does that imply that others can go ahead and take care of the work? Because although my personal history may reveal otherwise, I am not much of a perfectionist. Perfection reeks of stale coffee and dustbunnies, of too much time spent on the unimportant details. Suddenly I find myself holding back the urge to break into a rousing rendition of "Tradition" from Fiddler on the Roof, only instead of singing "tradition" in my mind I sing, "perfection!"

There is a traditional Jew inside of me that I let out of its shmata and allow to feast on matzo balls and kefilte fish on occasion. There is a great moment in the film, "A Mighty Wind" where Ed Begley Jr., who plays a Swedish music producer, starts using a bunch of Yiddish phrases in his sentences. It's brilliant. Ed Begley Jr. is awesome. A great comic mind. In fact the entire cast of "A Mighty Wind" is filled with comic geniuses. And if the film doesn't hold up to the classics, "Best in Show" and "Waiting For Guffman" it's only because the bar had been raised too high. Compared to most comic films, AMW is in the stratosphere.

Hey, don't I have work to do?

2003-07-29T19:28:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I went river kayaking at Cache Creek with 11 others, all humans, 3 of whom I'd known previously. I did keep a journal of the adventures, the details of which will be revealed here in the land of musings and warblings shortly. The last of the 3 days have not been written yet, as an injury to my lower hip/upper thigh has caused my blood to leave my brain and pool near the buttocks. Since most of my writing does originate from that region, this would seem a lame excuse; one would imagine that now is the PERFECT time to get some writing done. To this theory I have no plausible retort, other than to remind you that I tend to work best with an equal blood flow to each cheek and as it exists now, most of the juice is gathered in the right cheek. And one must also recognize that large portions of the day are dedicated to icing the damaged region, thus numbing the creative inspiration.

Feeling sufficiently vindicated of my responsibility to finish my kayaking journal, I can blissfully attend to my garden, which hopefully has not wilted in my absence. If it has, I have no one else to blame but you. You are a demanding audience and expect the best, but I am but a mere mortal and my priorities must be placed on enriching my soul. You will not be left out of the expression of my certain enlightenment.

2003-07-26T00:51:00.000-07:00

OK, the Lollygaggers are my softball team and when I say "my" softball team, a part of me, a large part mind you, really thinks of it as my team. I am the pitcher, I set the pace and the rhythm of the game and I like to think that I set an example of passionate understatedness to my fellow teammates. I'm not really sure what that means, but it feels right. We lost tonight and that is OK. We played sloppy defense and didn't have the most timely hitting, but the truth of the matter is -- the better team won. Also, the more boring team won. They exhibited no personality, no charisma, no charm. I don't even know what their team name is. I tried several strategies of slowing them down. Not giving them fatballs to hit on the first pitch. Walking their best hitter. The spitball. The shitball. Nothing worked. Of course, there was my sparkling defense which got us out of each inning. I suppose a few of the other teammates made some defensive gems. I think specifically of Colin's near-collision with John in right-center field. That would make the highlight reel.

****NOTE: IF YOU ARE WISHING TO HAVE MORE MUSINGS TO READ FOR THE NEXT COUPLE DAYS, STOP HERE AND CONTINUE ON TOMORROW. AS FAR AS MONDAY GOES, I'LL BE HOME IN THE EVENING AND WILL UNDOUBTEDLY HAVE MORE WITTY TIDBITS TO SHARE.*****

It was also great to have Keely play on the team too. Although relegated to the bench and then the catcher's spot, Keely's focus was always on the game. I think she wished she hit better, though the solid single in the 7th inning should have lessened the groundouts of the previous atbats. But most of all, she got to be my teammate. I am surprised that I didn't get a single pat on the butt; I think it was because she didn't want to distract me from my duties as pitcher.

I'm off to Cache Creek for 3 days of river rafting. All I ask is that I don't tip my kayak and that I don't get a severe sunburn. Oh, and that I don't lose my sunglasses. They're prescription. I hope all of you, dear readers, will have nice weekends and remember to smile at people.

fuzz

2003-07-24T19:50:00.000-07:00

this is a special post for those of you who check my blog multiple times daily.

I LOVE MISO SOUP!!!!!!!!!!!!

2003-07-23T17:26:00.000-07:00

It's the first day without complete sun and undeniable warmth in weeks and I don't know what to do with myself. No tennis class, no client to prepare for. No food in the fridge and only dried peaches in the cupboard. Well, there are other choices, such as dried pasta, rice, buillion cubes, vanilla extract....but nothing to snack on and for some reason this fact of foodlessness is keeping me from vacuuming the apartment. There is a direct connection between the two and I'm sure some of you know what I'm talking about and are nodding in agreement at this very moment. Perhaps you sympathize with my plight and wish to bring me a box of wheat thins or some homemade zucchini bread.

On a sadder note, I learned that my 6 month-old nephew, Andrew, has epilepsy. I probably should learn more about epilepsy --figure out what type he has-- assuming there are many forms of epilepsy. I worry that my sister will not deal with the extra care she's going to have to give very well. The thought that he needs to be exposed to better music, specifically the music in my personal collection, so that his seizures will rhythmically cancel each other out, occurs to me. Maybe if I play the taiko drums for Andrew it will relax him and allow the spirit to catch him.

2003-07-23T17:05:00.000-07:00

This is the first entry in what will more than likely be a life-changing collection of phrases, random consonants and vowels, witticisms, (pre)ponderences, analogies and assorted musings. If you find you are not moved, that your heart has not been tickled, that some sort of bodily response does not occur during or immediately after reading these innanities, then I would recommend you double your psychoanalysis appointments.