Live From New York 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.  ¶ 7:31 PM

  Off to NY 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!   ¶ 12:50 AM

  Strong Like Bull 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.

  ¶ 10:21 AM

  comments out of hand 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....  ¶ 5:11 PM

  Shouldn't have had that cookie 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.

  ¶ 4:27 PM

  Hedwig and the Angry Copycats 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.
  ¶ 2:27 PM

  I'm a technological whiz 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.  ¶ 4:27 PM

  Cool Shit 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.
  ¶ 5:38 PM

  Am I really this old? 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.   ¶ 9:25 AM

  audio post powered by audblog  ¶ 3:12 PM

  Jazzy but not really 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.

  ¶ 3:53 PM

  Fuzzy's Gone Interactive 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.  ¶ 3:38 PM

  I'm done 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.  ¶ 6:11 PM

  Punch Drunk Stupid 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.

  ¶ 6:31 PM

  New Life For New Music 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.  ¶ 1:06 PM

  about 1/100th of the way to the first draft of my novel 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!  ¶ 3:28 PM