So the other night when we were on our way into the amphitheater to see that band, what, the radioheads or something, my ticket was checked by a guy in a Maple Leafs tshirt. I made fanboy flappy gestures about the obviously well worn specimen and the guy asked if I happened to be Canadian. I said yes, and I was disregarding the fact that he was wearing a LEAFS shirt because of the overall coolness of seeing a Canadian hockey tshirt in pretty much the southernmost part of California. Really, seriously, I should be mocking him because, well, it's the Leafs, let's not kid.
He said actually I'm a Canucks fan I'm from Vancouver. I was being pushed along by the crowd so couldn't smack him for wearing that trash as a Vancouerite. If I'd known I would have taken him out.
The funny part though was the look on my friends' faces at the chances of running into another Canadian hockey fan while going to see a British Band in the US of A.
We're everywhere.....
vendredi, août 29
jeudi, août 28
Snatch my body any day, mr Yorke.
So yeah, I went to see Radiohead at Cricket Amphitheater last night. Wow is really the only possible response. I mean, besides contemplating the fact that my irritation with all of the drunken assholes perhaps shows a bit of my age, but we won't talk about that in this forum. We here at the Sundae Sanatorium are content to wallow in our own disillusions, thank you very much.
Anyhoo, yeah, so Radiohead is f'ing incredible. The amphitheater has a pit area, seated balconies, and then the top lawn, and we were in the second row of balconies, but more or less directly behind the sound booth at DEAD centre; basically, the sound and lightshow was all set up exactly for us. Can't really go wrong with that, huh? The only thing that could have made it better would have been if the architect had been able to go with me. Unfortunately he had a bit of a snafu with a project and wasn't able to get away in time. Fortunately, though, a friend was only to happy to warm his seat for him.
$12 beers are less than exciting, but what are you going to do? At least it was good beer, not piss-poor molson in a plastic cup.
setlist (for those who care):
15 Step
Airbag
There There
All I Need
Nude
Talk Show Host
Where I End and You Begin
Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
The Gloaming
Faust Arp
How to Disappear Completely
Reckoner
Optimistic
Jigsaw
Pyramid Song
Climbing Up The Walls
Bodysnatchers
FIRST ENCORES
House of Cards
You and Whose Army?
Just
Paranoid Android
Street Spirit (Fade Out)
SECOND ENCORES
Videotape
Lucky
Everything In Its Right Place
Anyhoo, yeah, so Radiohead is f'ing incredible. The amphitheater has a pit area, seated balconies, and then the top lawn, and we were in the second row of balconies, but more or less directly behind the sound booth at DEAD centre; basically, the sound and lightshow was all set up exactly for us. Can't really go wrong with that, huh? The only thing that could have made it better would have been if the architect had been able to go with me. Unfortunately he had a bit of a snafu with a project and wasn't able to get away in time. Fortunately, though, a friend was only to happy to warm his seat for him.
$12 beers are less than exciting, but what are you going to do? At least it was good beer, not piss-poor molson in a plastic cup.
setlist (for those who care):
15 Step
Airbag
There There
All I Need
Nude
Talk Show Host
Where I End and You Begin
Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
The Gloaming
Faust Arp
How to Disappear Completely
Reckoner
Optimistic
Jigsaw
Pyramid Song
Climbing Up The Walls
Bodysnatchers
FIRST ENCORES
House of Cards
You and Whose Army?
Just
Paranoid Android
Street Spirit (Fade Out)
SECOND ENCORES
Videotape
Lucky
Everything In Its Right Place
mardi, août 26
A simultaneously awesome and terrible personal sidenote:
The kiddo turns 9teen today. Those of you who've been around for a while may recall some of the crappy stuff he's gone through, so I just thought I'd fill you in =)
It's interesting
...how reading stuff I love doesn't always inspire me to blog, but being irritated usually does. I'm sure that's extremely healthy. Heh.
I won't get into what it was that irritated me specifically (I don't want to open a big ol' can of shitstorm here) but suffice it to say that I read some blogger's posting, disagreed with it and with most of the comments, replied along that vein with backup facts and links, and, after moderation, the blog-owner failed to post it. While I agree that everyone has the right to control the comments on their space, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me to refuse to encourage respectful dialogue within an internet forum. Well, unless you are afraid of being proven wrong, of course.
Whatever, though, I happened upon this blog quite randomly and cannot fathom going back, as there are so many good blogs out there.
----------------
Anyhoo...
Now that I'm down in Amurrika, I get to listen to Pandora again, which rules. It's such a cool way to discover new music, and there's even an application for my iPhone*. Last night while I was cooking dinner I felt like listening to some groovy cocktail type chill music, so created a station based on Thievery Corporation. It occurred to me at the time that this station would be equally fantastic for both dinner parties and sexytimes. Now these two activities don't appear to be that similar (orgiastic Romans aside), but when you think about it, they aren't that far apart, either. Both involve two (or more) (perverts) people coming together for sensual exploration. Both have begin with an appetizer, a main course, dessert, and cleanup. (I'm purposely leaving out the salad and cheese courses, because, well, ew.) For both events, you want a soundtrack which enhance the experience but doesn't distract from it - preferably something that has a bit of a groove and will fill in any quiet spaces. Something sexy - the musical equivalent of a seduction; a sultry look or an oyster** or strawberry dipped in champagne.
Or at least that is what I generally prefer when in le boudoir - nowadays, anyway. Back when I was younger my stereo was usually playing ministry or something equally aggressive. But then my definition of a really fancy dinner was fettuccine alfredo and a glass of chilean cabernet, so there's no accounting for the tastes and predilections of a 19 year old, I suppose.
* Yes I said iPhone! I am now the proud owner of a new 8gig 3G iPhone, thanks to the always handsome and charming Architect. Yay for husbands!
** I actually don't like oysters, and have recently discovered a bit of a nasty allergy to shellfish. However, I hear that they work well as an aphrodisiac, so there it is.
I won't get into what it was that irritated me specifically (I don't want to open a big ol' can of shitstorm here) but suffice it to say that I read some blogger's posting, disagreed with it and with most of the comments, replied along that vein with backup facts and links, and, after moderation, the blog-owner failed to post it. While I agree that everyone has the right to control the comments on their space, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me to refuse to encourage respectful dialogue within an internet forum. Well, unless you are afraid of being proven wrong, of course.
Whatever, though, I happened upon this blog quite randomly and cannot fathom going back, as there are so many good blogs out there.
----------------
Anyhoo...
Now that I'm down in Amurrika, I get to listen to Pandora again, which rules. It's such a cool way to discover new music, and there's even an application for my iPhone*. Last night while I was cooking dinner I felt like listening to some groovy cocktail type chill music, so created a station based on Thievery Corporation. It occurred to me at the time that this station would be equally fantastic for both dinner parties and sexytimes. Now these two activities don't appear to be that similar (orgiastic Romans aside), but when you think about it, they aren't that far apart, either. Both involve two (or more) (perverts) people coming together for sensual exploration. Both have begin with an appetizer, a main course, dessert, and cleanup. (I'm purposely leaving out the salad and cheese courses, because, well, ew.) For both events, you want a soundtrack which enhance the experience but doesn't distract from it - preferably something that has a bit of a groove and will fill in any quiet spaces. Something sexy - the musical equivalent of a seduction; a sultry look or an oyster** or strawberry dipped in champagne.
Or at least that is what I generally prefer when in le boudoir - nowadays, anyway. Back when I was younger my stereo was usually playing ministry or something equally aggressive. But then my definition of a really fancy dinner was fettuccine alfredo and a glass of chilean cabernet, so there's no accounting for the tastes and predilections of a 19 year old, I suppose.
* Yes I said iPhone! I am now the proud owner of a new 8gig 3G iPhone, thanks to the always handsome and charming Architect. Yay for husbands!
** I actually don't like oysters, and have recently discovered a bit of a nasty allergy to shellfish. However, I hear that they work well as an aphrodisiac, so there it is.
lundi, août 4
read this
I missed it a couple - 3 weeks ago but you should read it now.
r/r
I recall having a conversation, one day, fueled by wine and probably a little weed, a conversation between a first nations girl, a girl who's parents escaped from Czechoslovakia in the early 70s and me, a girl who's dad grew up Catholic in Belfast. The F/N girl was getting passionate about cultural genocide and racism and I couldn't knock her for it - she was making some valid points and speaking some very powerful truths. I did get a little upset, though, when she told me that I couldn't know what she'd been through; what her grandmothers had been through.
I tried to talk to her about the fact that my dad was always very quiet about the kind of crap he suffered as a boy, but I knew that my grandpa had a hard time getting a job because he married a catholic, and he had to work for less money and walk to work barefoot so he could save his shoes for on the job. And I knew that when I was visiting my cousin we came really close to getting shot because he said "H" the wrong way. And I know poor lucky the leprechaun is still chasing after his lucky charms and that every fat frat boy and his douchebag cousin wear 'blow me I'm irish' tshirts and puke green beer every March 17. I know about cultural appropriation and having your myths and stories turned into a pot full of jokes at the end of the rainbow, and about having your language banned and almost lost. I know I'm a generation removed from it but I didn't get to learn gaelic at home because the english said my dad wasn't allowed to learn it when he was a boy.
Maybe it's different. I don't know. But I think that maybe there are a lot of people out there who know what it feels like to be told they aren't good enough. I think that maybe it's not about the colour of your skin it's about being a good person and loving the people around you and remembering that we are all part of the same family, really.
But anyway, yeah, listen to Ryan 'cause he's smarter than I am and says it way better.
r/r
I recall having a conversation, one day, fueled by wine and probably a little weed, a conversation between a first nations girl, a girl who's parents escaped from Czechoslovakia in the early 70s and me, a girl who's dad grew up Catholic in Belfast. The F/N girl was getting passionate about cultural genocide and racism and I couldn't knock her for it - she was making some valid points and speaking some very powerful truths. I did get a little upset, though, when she told me that I couldn't know what she'd been through; what her grandmothers had been through.
I tried to talk to her about the fact that my dad was always very quiet about the kind of crap he suffered as a boy, but I knew that my grandpa had a hard time getting a job because he married a catholic, and he had to work for less money and walk to work barefoot so he could save his shoes for on the job. And I knew that when I was visiting my cousin we came really close to getting shot because he said "H" the wrong way. And I know poor lucky the leprechaun is still chasing after his lucky charms and that every fat frat boy and his douchebag cousin wear 'blow me I'm irish' tshirts and puke green beer every March 17. I know about cultural appropriation and having your myths and stories turned into a pot full of jokes at the end of the rainbow, and about having your language banned and almost lost. I know I'm a generation removed from it but I didn't get to learn gaelic at home because the english said my dad wasn't allowed to learn it when he was a boy.
Maybe it's different. I don't know. But I think that maybe there are a lot of people out there who know what it feels like to be told they aren't good enough. I think that maybe it's not about the colour of your skin it's about being a good person and loving the people around you and remembering that we are all part of the same family, really.
But anyway, yeah, listen to Ryan 'cause he's smarter than I am and says it way better.
ug
Man, so I've been trying to get into psychiatric intake stuff down here b/c I don't have any insurance so need the free crap. Of course, it's fucking impossible. There's one at UCSD that I've been calling and calling and calling. Finally someone called me back and told me I have to call in on Monday mornings only, and just let it ring until someone answers. Ok so I did that and no one answered till almost 8.30, at which point they told me that all the spaces for this week were filled and that I would have to call back next Monday morning and just let it ring until someone answered. I said 'Well that's what I did today" and they replied "Yes, but it's 8.30 now, and all of the spaces have been filled".
GOD.
GOD.
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