Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Right, so, in ninth grade, I used to stay up late listening to 95X making recordings from the radio of cool songs that I thought everyone else should know (not a lot has changed). There were three that they only played past midnight for a long time. I have no idea why. One was "Santeria". One was 'This Lonely Place' (Goldfinger) and the other was "The Battle Of Who Could Care Less". Dang, I loved that song. Wore that tape out! I bought Whatever and Ever Amen and can sing the whole thing start to finish including all of the instrumental parts. I'm that awesome. I have most of his other stuff too, but get kind of lost toward the recent years (I'd forgotten so many songs last night, but there they are on iTunes ready for new rotation). He's this odd hybrid of Burt Bacharach and Elton John except he doesn't suck.
I went with Lacey. It's her fifth show. I think. But, there was a guy, Ben said, who'd made it to 60 shows, so he asked him what song he'd like to hear. I said/shouted to Lacey, "Steven's Last Night In Town"! And guess what? That's what the dude said too! Ben sat at the piano and promised he'd try, but would probably fuck it up. And he did. But it was good. The last bit of the song features a frenzied drum bit, which Ben played, leaping up to the drum kit and really going to town.
I know there are a lot of naysayers (please don't judge him by the terrible ubiquitousness of "Brick"), but it was a pretty rad show. There's something great about standing with your fellow dorks screaming lyrics in harmony. And there's something about talented musicians. Wathing live music really restores my faith in true creativity and superhuman talent. However mainstream he is now, I think part of my interest in current, non top 40 music (prior to this I listened to parent mandated classical, Beatles and KOMA, the local oldies station) is due to him and late night airings of "The Battle Of Who Could Care Less".
Take a listen (these are all I could find):
You Don't Know Me
Don't Change Your Plans For Me
Steven's Last Night In Town
Zak and Sara
Song For The Dumped
Still Fighting It
*I miss you, seafood. I really, really do.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I have little to negative willpower. Unless you count forcing myself to sit through a Jon & Kate Plus 8 marathon, followed by The Real Housewives of New Bubbies, topped off by 12 new epidoes of TrueLife on MTV. In that case, I am the fucking willpower champion. But usually, I don't know my limits. It's always, one more, I'll just have one more. And then another after that. And then, well. Needless to say it's not pretty. Basically, I need help. If I have it anywhere around me, I'll mindlessly partake. Work. Home. Driving. Anything. And the consequences are always disastrous. What did Einstein say? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result? Well, kids, surprise! I'm nuts.
Listen to your Auntie Blythe. JUST SAY NO!
No matter how good you think these colon bombs are, please, limit yourself. Turns out your body cannot actually handle 150 grams of fiber in one sitting. If you are going to hit it, though, oats and chocolate is by far the best flavor. I just hope you have a private bathroom at work or a sphincter of steel.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
*I will never ever, even under duress, admit to immensely enjoying the hashbrown casserole. NEVER!
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
*For real, the other night, I had a dream about developing an Astral Weeks era Van Morrison lyric generator. There was one column of colors, one of fruits and one of bodies of water. Tell me you don't think "springs of viridian plums" couldn't fit.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
*I pray to Bob Stoops that no such photos exist.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Falling Into Space - Don Dilego (surely, this was on Scrubs)
November - Azure Ray (only listen to this if you are a 13 year old girl cueing up music to listen to while you scribble away in your diary)
Once Around The Block - Badly Drawn Boy (I forget about this guy 99% of the time)
In Transit - Albert Hammond Jr. (Infectious. Jerk.)
Kiss The Sky - Shawn Lee's Ping Pong Orchestra (What? Weird.)
How The Story Goes - The Redwalls (Did anyone read those Brian Jacques books?)
Coming Home - The 88 (I like really terrible music sometimes.)
The Ballad of the Dead Rat - The Teeth (I just like all of those words forming a band and song name.)
Until the Morning - Thievery Corporation (Old standby.)
Face It - Old Canes (Note to self, learn more about Old Canes.)
A Little More Time - Zox (This is all time number one Pandora song stuck in my head. I have no idea why.)
Since I Fell For You - Nina Simone (I collect all versions of this song.)
Ice Cream - New Young Pony Club (Lady rap!)
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Yesterday, I drove my brother to the ol' homestead from the hospital where the testing was conducted and rummaged around my old room for forgotten treasures. I like to do this once in a while when I get a serious urge to shop, so I shop for my own stuff! Pure genius, I know. I opened my closet to see what booty was held within, but instead of finding an awesome pair of shoes from college or cds that've been missing for five years, I found lots of small boxes mailed from said g-pa to my dad.
I opened several (they'd already been opened and they were in my closet, so it was justified snoopage) and discovered that my g-pa has been sending my dad trinket upon trinket from Dad's childhood for the last few months. One contained an engraved pocket knife given to my dad God knows when. Another contained the yellow stuffed bear Dad carried around for years, completely intact, preserved in a Ziploc bag, accompanied by a note detailing its origins. There's a jar of marbles and a box of old metal Tonka trucks. A neatly folded eagle scout kerchief. Recordings of poems written and read by G-pa's dad. Cards, books with inscriptions, handwritten notes, receipts with stories of their inception, photos with names and dates scrawled across the back.
These tangible things. The crumbling stuffed bear, weathered photos, withered papers. My memories are still somewhat tactile, but my brother, seven years younger - what's he left with? A flash drive? MP3 player? Screenshots of emails sent? Digital photos lost in the throes of Facebook? A NintendoDS? I'll preoccupy myself with the larger implications of technology outpacing our hearts instead of the physical evidence of a great mind recognizing its impending limitations.