People, places, and places.

J. Roddy Walston & the Business opened for the Drive By Truckers the other evening.

Walston & the Business sounds like; Eddie Vedder covering Jerry Lee Lewis' catalogue.  Walston claims friendship with Little Richard, and his influence shows.   I'm not a fan of Eddie Vedder, but I am a fan of Lewis, that whole sound, and Walston's hair.  It was a quality performance.  And it reminded me of Nashville.

Which is the real subject matter here.  Not Nashville so much, but the idea of being taken away by a song, a smell, a photo; to a place.  And not just fondly remembering a vacation, but being pressed with an aching.  An aching that most people feel for a lover, a best friend, a sibling; when they move away, or simply on.

I was working, monitoring the crowd, and grooving ever so slightly in the most professional manner I could muster under such rocking circumstances.  When all the sudden I was overcome with grief.  Perhaps that isn't the right word.  A longing, a mild depression.  I wanted to go to Nashville.  I wanted to spend a Sunday morning, wandering the streets, popping into to bar after saloon, sipping whiskey and watching some talented, silver haired man play the ballads that made country, rockabilly, and rock famous.

It was like, someone had just told me that a long lost friend had just died, and we'd never been able to catch up.  Now of course, Nashville is still there, but thats the feeling.

And while I was feeling this, I realized that I've never felt this way for a person.  I've never really been capable of missing people.  Yes, after a bad breakup, I miss having that person around, I may cry for days, beside myself.  But the missing of people when you go away, or they go away, I don't experience that.

I get pangs of longing for Nashville; I yearn for New Orleans; I pine for Cambodia.  Little corner shops and food carts hold more emotional weight for me than my best of friends.

Freud would blame my mother...so would I.

The Queen's ID

So for the unaware, I'm a government contractor by day and a nightclub employee by night....

www.930.com

Not really a nightclub per se.  It's a music venue.  About 1000 capacity.  Pretty rad place if do say so myself...which I do.

But I'm checking in now to discuss IDs.

Last night (The B-52s) was the night for bizarre IDs.  One guy, in his 50's left his ID in the limo, sad day.  So he tried to use his friends.  We do verify that you are carrying a valid ID if you want to drink in our establishment.  The guy checking IDs just laughed and said, "Who is this?!"  Then 5 minutes later, this guy decides that it'll be real funny to give our ID guy an expired ID, make him explain why he can't accept that, and then give him the new one.  The customer really got a kick out of that.  He was at the show by himself...

Then my rotation at IDs.  I get an Australian Diplomat ID paired with a Department of State Drivers License. Had no clue they even issued those.

Then come the drag queens.  I think they were surprised I gave them no trouble.  One of the first things you learn is to check the nose, the brow bone, and the jawline.  Those can't really change much.  So the first guy comes through, I look at his license, he says, "It's me I swear!"  I say, "I know, no matter how much makeup you put on it, it's still the same nose!"  He says, "Did you hear that?!  I'm getting plastic surgery!"  Thankfully he was feigning offence...I hope.  Next queen comes through.  Tallllll.  Huge hands.  Terrible makeup.  Why do they keep doing that gross lip liner!!  Not an attractive queen at all...except.  The drivers license photo.  HOLY CRAP.  I was a little fuh-klemped.  HOT.  Seriously.  I can't get over how hot this guy was!  I couldn't help but actually tell him what a good looking man he was.  In the hopes that he takes the dress off, starts liking girls and takes me away?  Well, one can hope...

Ghostland Observatory 12 December 10

Wow.  Wow.  I was expecting a mind numbing DJ set.  Wow.

Considering 80 percent of those in attendance were sporting glow-stick accessories.  Necklace, bracelet, earrings, glasses.  One girl had lights under her skirt.  The opener, who shall remain nameless, mainly because I was so bored I can't be bothered to remember his name, was a dull DJ.

Because of my lack of interest in electronic music, I've never witnessed a laser show.  So I can't compare this to anything.  But I think it's fair to say that their laser show is a force to be reckoned with.  It was like watching TRON sometimes.  And other times, you were just sure that if you jumped, just a smidge too high, you would be  eradicated by the beams.

There is a vocalist, with shrill tones, reminding me of Ima Robot.  He sometimes picks up the guitar.  His cohort, wearing a large red, white, and blue cape stood behind a drum kit and was surrounded by a number of keyed boxes and synthesizers.

Very entertaining.  Only improvements would be, a proper opener and a proper audience.

Important matters such as this.

I worked the George Clinton show last night.  This is not about that.  This is about more important things.

Got in about 4am.  For some reason got up about 8am.  Figured, I should eat something.

In Russia, they often eat simple open faced sandwiches.  They're called buterbrodi.  I had some salami and cheddar, figured I'd have a go at one that actually tasted good.

Step 1:  Toast a slice of bread
Step 2:  In one skillet, on low heat, warm up the salami.
Step 3:  In another skillet, warm up some olive oil and garlic salt.
Step 4:  Put the toast into warm oiled skillet and add the salami.
Step 5:  Turn up the heat in the now empty skillet, to medium and drop a slice of thick cheddar in.  Just for a second or two, slide out and flip and after a second or two, just when it starts to stretch, pull it out and lay it on the salami and bread.  (BE CAREFUL!)
Step 6:  Cover the skillet and let it warm together for a few minutes.
Step 7:  EAT!!!!

Let me tell you, de-lish.  For me the salami is key.  The fat adds a dimension not found in other deli meats that really brings everything together.

New Years Calling Day!

I came across an excellent old tradition today, New Years Calling Day.

I seem to recall that there is a tradition in Russia of visiting friends on New Years, bringing gifts, sharing food, etc.

This is similar, except it is more akin to courting.  A gentleman will make up a list of ladies he would like to call on and drop by, have a bit of a snack, chat a bit and then leave his card.  Mark Twain said that one New Years Calling Day he had about 30 ladies he planned to call on.  However, he enjoyed so much spending time with the first young lady, he "postponed" the others until the next year.  Of course he didn't actually, as he married this young lady soon after.

So maybe we should start this tradition again!  What better way to start a New Year than with Speed Courting!!

A longer explanation.

A note on Fashion

Nobody puked at the Kate Nash show!  Score!  I like her voice, but her genre's a fad and this style of dressing like a 4 year old has got to stop.  It makes my job difficult.  "I see you're drinking, are you over 21?" --   "Of course, I'm 37!" -- "Oh, it's just that you're dressed like a 4 year old going to her baptism. I'm sure you can understand my confusion."

Hack websites like Sartorialist are all about this fashion that I've termed "18th century homeless child".  Everyone is dressing like they sell "papes" on the corner and work in the coal mines on the weekend.  Sure, some parts of those outfits are neat, I like a jaunting cap, and reinforce those trouser knees!  But haggard ass ugly shoes that you paid 70 bucks for, just to look like you're wearing jazz dance boots while working at a nursing home?!

Squirrel!!

I can't say i'm thrilled with the way things are going.  Are we going to just see-saw back and forth for the next century?  Enact, repeal, enact, repeal.  Do people really think we have some gung-ho gun slinger in office doing things no one wants?


Is the only way to combat this to yell louder than the next guy?  To get some entertainer to corral people to another point of view by talking down to them?  Except the speakers I'm referencing (Beck, Rush, etc) aren't talking down.  I genuinely am starting to believe that they are talking on the level of their listeners.  Their listeners are just lacking in intelligence.  "Squirrel!"  And I hate to say that, but its becoming increasingly obvious.  


In discussions with apparent learned individuals, I come across basic facts, that they can't argue, they just were completely unaware of.  And when confronted with these facts, they acknowledge them, and then move on in their same direction.  If it doesn't back up their opinion, it must be irrelevant.  


Are you aware that there is a whole world out there?  People that do things differently, and they work!  


So it seems in order to combat the blatant, raging ignorance that is so popular now, we must lower our projected intelligence, use smaller words, louder voices, and flashier lights.  "Squirrel!"






"If you amplify everything, you hear nothing" -- John Stewart


How true.  How true.  


But what do we do?  How do we get our point across to people who make decisions with their bodily humors? 


Idiocracy is truly coming about.  I am sad.

The BBC seems to be age-matching now.  Listening to a report on housing problems for the elderly in China.  They dub over the Chinese ranters with sex matched pensioners.  I shouldn't laugh, but it's like some sort of awful theatrical production.

Working on rally pictures.

And watched about 6 movies last week.

Soon to be updates.

a Movie.

It's Kind of a Funny Story.

This is a cute movie.  Zach Galifianakis does an excellent job in a serious role.  Is this movie worth 10 bucks?  No, but it's definitely worth a Netflix or a Red Box.

Jeremy Davies makes an appearance.  For once on the other side of insanity, as an employee of a mental ward.  He seems to be patterned after Bob Forrest, the substance abuse counselor and radio DJ.  He's still Jeremy Davies.  That man only has one personality, and I love it.

Jim Gaffigan, another comedian put into a serious role.  Kind of a waste of talent on his part, but he does a fair enough job.

I'm a sucker for mental institutions, so I was going to love this movie anyway.

It's cute, it's not sappy.  Watch it.

In other news....RALLIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mavis Staples, Jeff Tweedy, The Roots.

Bringing the long zoom.

Feet Fetishists

Twice.  In a 24 hour period.  Twice my feet were the object of sexual deviance.

First:  I went to a bar.  Often these stories start like this.  I went to see an old-timey americana band.  Quite good.  The Hot Seats as well as Pokey LaFarge and The South City Three.  Innocent enough endeavor.  As I'm standing outside, the gentleman taking the money says, "You have pretty toes.  Are you married?"

weird.

but not as weird as

Second.  Yesterday evening.  Metro.  A miniature Spike Jones walks up. with the personality of Karl Childers or David Blaine. and the voice of Ben Stein.  He asks how I am.  I say, Fine, how are you?  He says good.  He looks away, I look away.  I'm already weirded out by this fellow.  He says, "Are those some sort of hiking sandals?"  I say, "They're pretty tough."  He says, "What size are they?"  I laugh nervously and reply, "Large".  He says, "About a 9 or a 10".  another nervous laugh.  I'm starting to think he wants to try my shoes on.
He says, dead-pan, completely seriously, very David Blaine-esque "Will you wiggle your toes for me?"  ...   ...   ...   ... yeah.  I just said, "I don't think I need to do that."

WHAT?!?!

gross.


i got the first volume of The Autobiography of Mark Twain.  It's huge.

i'm spending my weekend volunteering with an organization battling Modern Slavery, a shift at the Green festival, and helping to organize a volunteer appreciation party for a local neighborhood.  yeah, i'm busy.  oh yeah, i have an interview for a part time job somewhere in there too.

someone come clean my room before andy and kristin get here...