I'm up very early today, which usually implies some sort of mid-day catnap. Today is packed with adventure, however, so I have to pace myself. Writing, showering, grabbing yardwork gear from my folks, happy hour with a girlfriend, yardwork tonight with my boyfriend. And, I have to pack for a weekend in Lake Meade, PA with eight other girlfriends. I'm in charge of bringing coffee (Tim Horton's) and tunes (my computer and speakers). My gals know me well!
Anyway, yesterday I read this blog from Robert the Radish who put together his Top Twenty Albums of All Time (For Real) list. I love these lists and the challenges posed by them. Whenever a list comes out, I peruse for common interests, surprise guests and, of course, el numero uno. Fun stuff. This one intrigued me because it had a bunch of factors taken into consideration: American market only, no live or "best ofs," sales, grammys, critical rating (whatever that means) and the subjective opinion of the listmaker himself. He includes some sort of complex math thing (Staying Power Value=SPV x something or other) which I skipped. I'm a musicologist not a mathmatician...... I remember at least 3 Zeppelin albums, and Stevie Wonder's "Songs from the Key of Life" was #1. And, there was "value" placed on the album at the end. Stevie's was upwards of $18.00. Complex stuff.
So, off I go into Judy's wild musical yonder. Since Robert the Radish didn't explain his choices, neither will I. The mystery continues (and I need to actually write some Diss stuff today and not spend it all on something fun. Ha ha). Feel free to send me your own or challenge my madness. My choices are based on similar criteria, but I'm throwing my own Staying Power for Judy Value (SPJV) into the equation. Why the hell not???
#20: "Songs from the Big Chair"--Tears for Fears
#19: "Back in Black"--AC/DC
#18: "CODA"--Led Zeppelin
#17: "Under the Pink"--Tori Amos
#16: "Jeff Buckley"--Grace
#15: "Dulcinea"--Toad the Wet Sprocket
#14: "Document"--R.E.M.
#13: "Yield"--Pearl Jam
#12: "Ray of Light"--Madonna
#11: "The Joshua Tree"--U2
#10: "Quadrophenia"--The Who
#9: "Master of Puppets"--Metallica
#8: "Amazing Grace"--Aretha Franklin
#7: "Automatic for the People"--R.E.M.
#6: "Jar of Flies"--Alice in Chains
#5: "Fully Completely"--Tragically Hip
#4: "What's Goin' On"--Marvin Gaye
#3: "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan"--Bob Dylan
#2: "Physical Graffiti"--Led Zeppelin
#1: "Ten"--Pearl Jam
I've shown you mine, now show me yours! Have at it!!!!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
all things bright and foo-tiful
I'm not sure of the last time I went to an "arena" rock show. In the summer in the Buff, there are so many opportunities to see outdoor concerts--many for free--and, throughout the past year, I've been so busy doing tasks related to relocating, Dissertating, new job-adjusting, single-momming and girlfriending that spending my sparse greenbacks on a concert wasn't often in the cards.
I had forgotton all the fun rituals associated with arena rocks shows: I found something cool and cute to wear in case I bumped into Dave Grohl unexpectedly (or, in case I just threw myself on stage at the appropriate moment) and would need to charm him with my wares. I checked and re-checked my purse for tickets and directions to Rochester. I charged the Nano. I packed a cooler of beers. We listened to the Foo Fighters almost all the way to Ro-cha-cha before turning the music off completely to allow for concert mental "prep time." We scoured the streets for a meter and paid 35 cents to park (hell, yeah!). We loaded up the belly at some cute pub. We stood in line (male and female lines, BTW. I had to ditch my nail clippers, tweezers and nail file before entering the venue and the woman security guard felt me up better than my boyfriend had....). We wandered about the arena. We bought merch. We bought a beer. We found our seats which were already good because the venue smaller, but I immediately assessed that this was not a sell-out show so we worked our way past other guards and scored two seats stage left and VERY CLOSE. And then it all began.
The opening acts--Year Long Disaster and Supergrass--played well and briefly. Perfect.
Foos hit the stage at 8:35 and played straight til 10:50. Even more perfect.
They opened with "Let It Die," "The Pretender," "Times Like These" and "No Way Back" without taking a breath. Perfect.
Simply an amazing show. Better than many many others I've witnessed in 25 years (Prince, Pearl Jam, and INXS still hold the top 3, but the Foos have claimed #4. moe. is #5). Grohl is an amazing, funny, quirky and fiercely talented frontman backed by the tightest band I've heard in a long time. Taylor Hawkins is a GREAT drummer. Grohl engaged the crowd all night and consistently showed a side of ol' Nirvana that may have not allowed his full contributions in THAT band to translate past the beleaguered Cobain until now.
Amazing. The last song was "Best of You," performed with such clarity and strength that it gave me goosebumps and tingles in all the right places. For real.
*Sigh*
Rituals for the post-game: sleep late, brew coffee, blog about the night before, listen to the Foos as I write all afternoon while wearing my new Concert-T.
Not a bad way to start the week.
I had forgotton all the fun rituals associated with arena rocks shows: I found something cool and cute to wear in case I bumped into Dave Grohl unexpectedly (or, in case I just threw myself on stage at the appropriate moment) and would need to charm him with my wares. I checked and re-checked my purse for tickets and directions to Rochester. I charged the Nano. I packed a cooler of beers. We listened to the Foo Fighters almost all the way to Ro-cha-cha before turning the music off completely to allow for concert mental "prep time." We scoured the streets for a meter and paid 35 cents to park (hell, yeah!). We loaded up the belly at some cute pub. We stood in line (male and female lines, BTW. I had to ditch my nail clippers, tweezers and nail file before entering the venue and the woman security guard felt me up better than my boyfriend had....). We wandered about the arena. We bought merch. We bought a beer. We found our seats which were already good because the venue smaller, but I immediately assessed that this was not a sell-out show so we worked our way past other guards and scored two seats stage left and VERY CLOSE. And then it all began.
The opening acts--Year Long Disaster and Supergrass--played well and briefly. Perfect.
Foos hit the stage at 8:35 and played straight til 10:50. Even more perfect.
They opened with "Let It Die," "The Pretender," "Times Like These" and "No Way Back" without taking a breath. Perfect.
Simply an amazing show. Better than many many others I've witnessed in 25 years (Prince, Pearl Jam, and INXS still hold the top 3, but the Foos have claimed #4. moe. is #5). Grohl is an amazing, funny, quirky and fiercely talented frontman backed by the tightest band I've heard in a long time. Taylor Hawkins is a GREAT drummer. Grohl engaged the crowd all night and consistently showed a side of ol' Nirvana that may have not allowed his full contributions in THAT band to translate past the beleaguered Cobain until now.
Amazing. The last song was "Best of You," performed with such clarity and strength that it gave me goosebumps and tingles in all the right places. For real.
*Sigh*
Rituals for the post-game: sleep late, brew coffee, blog about the night before, listen to the Foos as I write all afternoon while wearing my new Concert-T.
Not a bad way to start the week.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Hard Sun
So I've been purchasing concert tickets from Ticketmaster lately as some good shows are coming up...Foo Fighters on Monday, Dylan in August and Gordon Lightfoot in September (yes.....the GL. Everyone has their vice...). I didn't know that with every ticket purchased, the purchaser gets a free iTune. But now I've got a bunch.
I've been writing like a mad fiend. And I've accomplished a lot this week, and I've fallen in love with writing again. Which makes me happy.
So, my boyfriend came home a day early (late last night) from being out of town since Monday, and he took the day off of work today. Which makes me happy.
So, it's been raining all week (which is good for Judy's writing) and blazing sun today. No rain in the forecast. Which makes me happy.
So, I just purchased (free of charge, of course) "Hard Sun" by Eddie Vedder (who I fell in love with a LONG time ago). I love this song for many reasons. Eddie, the background vocals, the bass line, the repetitive nature of the last two minutes, the build up of instrumentation that eventually takes over the vocals like a wire-y, fire-y pumpkin plant. Yummy. I also love when music syncs with my world, like placing the last puzzle piece into the picture. It all fits and the result makes the picture better.
So, I am going to be outside in the yard and pool all day. My body feels a little squishy from being in the chair all week, and I think writing 32 pages in 3 days allows me a little funtime. Hopefully you agree.
I have five free tunes left and hope to be inspired by various things today through which I will "purchase" appropriate music. These week has made me very happy.
Have a good one!
I've been writing like a mad fiend. And I've accomplished a lot this week, and I've fallen in love with writing again. Which makes me happy.
So, my boyfriend came home a day early (late last night) from being out of town since Monday, and he took the day off of work today. Which makes me happy.
So, it's been raining all week (which is good for Judy's writing) and blazing sun today. No rain in the forecast. Which makes me happy.
So, I just purchased (free of charge, of course) "Hard Sun" by Eddie Vedder (who I fell in love with a LONG time ago). I love this song for many reasons. Eddie, the background vocals, the bass line, the repetitive nature of the last two minutes, the build up of instrumentation that eventually takes over the vocals like a wire-y, fire-y pumpkin plant. Yummy. I also love when music syncs with my world, like placing the last puzzle piece into the picture. It all fits and the result makes the picture better.
So, I am going to be outside in the yard and pool all day. My body feels a little squishy from being in the chair all week, and I think writing 32 pages in 3 days allows me a little funtime. Hopefully you agree.
I have five free tunes left and hope to be inspired by various things today through which I will "purchase" appropriate music. These week has made me very happy.
Have a good one!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
safe and sound
I like that song "Safe and Sound" by Sheryl Crow even though I'm not really a huge fan. She seems consistently inconsistent and sometimes her lyrics are a little clumsy and cheesy. But, what do I know. I do, however, like "Safe and Sound." She really lets it go there at the end of it (it's on right now).
The Nano is back after having been tucked into a place where it truly didn't belong. After all my mental wrangling yesterday--and instinctively knowing that it was in the house SOMEWHERE--I took a break from writing to NOT look for the Nano and do a little housecleaning (as opposed to housesearching) and very quickly found that little sucker. Oh, the world.
But at least I am still sticking with my #1 item from yesterday's post and should add one that says "I am very flawed." Hee hee.
Big writing day yesterday, and since it's raining, I'm sticking to the chair for the day with the Nano nestled close by my side. Happy Thursday!
The Nano is back after having been tucked into a place where it truly didn't belong. After all my mental wrangling yesterday--and instinctively knowing that it was in the house SOMEWHERE--I took a break from writing to NOT look for the Nano and do a little housecleaning (as opposed to housesearching) and very quickly found that little sucker. Oh, the world.
But at least I am still sticking with my #1 item from yesterday's post and should add one that says "I am very flawed." Hee hee.
Big writing day yesterday, and since it's raining, I'm sticking to the chair for the day with the Nano nestled close by my side. Happy Thursday!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
My Nano's made for walkin'...away
Damn damn dammy damn. I don't like it when my instincts get proven wrong.....you?
Well, I drove back from camping (in Fillmore, NY on 400 acres. Beautiful place) on Sunday with the Nano plugged into my dashboard, power on, boyfriend asleep in the seat next to me (it was a long, fun-filled weekend and he loves naps). I pulled into my driveway backwards so we could more easily unload the weekend's gear. Around 8pm that evening, I moved my car into the street because it was blocking his and he leaves for work oh-so-early on weekdays. On Monday, I taught piano students and did this-and-that around the house and only drove my car once to go to the bank.
I cannot recall if I unplugged the Nano while unpacking the car, but instinctively, I know I did (because why wouldn't I?). I cannot recall if I locked my car after putting it in the street Sunday night but instinctively, I know I did (because why wouldn't I?). I cannot recall if the Nano was in the car on the way to/from the bank but instinctively, I know it wasn't (it is in the house with the recently unpacked camping gear because why wouldn't it be?).
These are caveats of this story that are making me cuckoo for Coco-puffs right now.....
1. I generally believe--still after all that's around us--that people are good.
2. In the past, I have realized that I had not locked my car probably due of my innate belief in item #1
3. In the past, I have lost things without any rhyme or reason (remember the "SexyBack" post a few months back? JT is still MIA)
4. My iPod (the oldie...had it forever) and iShuffle WERE stolen from my house by someone hired to help improve it within the first two weeks of moving in last August. Grrrrrr.......
5. I have searched all over this house and car since last night. Nano not here. For real.
6. I live in a "safe neighborhood" proven by my high taxes, great neighbors, good schools, blah blah blah and the fact that if someone even farts in the street, someone from the town's D.O.T shows up with an air purifier...
*sigh*
If this thing decides to find its way home, I will embrace it without a flinch.
*another sigh*
There are fetish theories that apply to all sorts of things but I'm thinking most about the Adorno essay, "On the Fetish Character in Music..." and how wrapped up I am in this Nano business right now. I'm thinking that I need to get over this as I am not working on the Diss at 10am because I am--over and over--trying to collect my memories in order to find this Nano. I may have to give it up and embrace that the world is not a perfect place (nor am I). I have a ton of time to write today through Friday and I think I must simply throw this scenario to the wind and let the dust settle as it always does.
Sorry little Nano. I'll do better next time.
Well, I drove back from camping (in Fillmore, NY on 400 acres. Beautiful place) on Sunday with the Nano plugged into my dashboard, power on, boyfriend asleep in the seat next to me (it was a long, fun-filled weekend and he loves naps). I pulled into my driveway backwards so we could more easily unload the weekend's gear. Around 8pm that evening, I moved my car into the street because it was blocking his and he leaves for work oh-so-early on weekdays. On Monday, I taught piano students and did this-and-that around the house and only drove my car once to go to the bank.
I cannot recall if I unplugged the Nano while unpacking the car, but instinctively, I know I did (because why wouldn't I?). I cannot recall if I locked my car after putting it in the street Sunday night but instinctively, I know I did (because why wouldn't I?). I cannot recall if the Nano was in the car on the way to/from the bank but instinctively, I know it wasn't (it is in the house with the recently unpacked camping gear because why wouldn't it be?).
These are caveats of this story that are making me cuckoo for Coco-puffs right now.....
1. I generally believe--still after all that's around us--that people are good.
2. In the past, I have realized that I had not locked my car probably due of my innate belief in item #1
3. In the past, I have lost things without any rhyme or reason (remember the "SexyBack" post a few months back? JT is still MIA)
4. My iPod (the oldie...had it forever) and iShuffle WERE stolen from my house by someone hired to help improve it within the first two weeks of moving in last August. Grrrrrr.......
5. I have searched all over this house and car since last night. Nano not here. For real.
6. I live in a "safe neighborhood" proven by my high taxes, great neighbors, good schools, blah blah blah and the fact that if someone even farts in the street, someone from the town's D.O.T shows up with an air purifier...
*sigh*
If this thing decides to find its way home, I will embrace it without a flinch.
*another sigh*
There are fetish theories that apply to all sorts of things but I'm thinking most about the Adorno essay, "On the Fetish Character in Music..." and how wrapped up I am in this Nano business right now. I'm thinking that I need to get over this as I am not working on the Diss at 10am because I am--over and over--trying to collect my memories in order to find this Nano. I may have to give it up and embrace that the world is not a perfect place (nor am I). I have a ton of time to write today through Friday and I think I must simply throw this scenario to the wind and let the dust settle as it always does.
Sorry little Nano. I'll do better next time.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
In the gutters
Even though I have been in my house almost a year (end of August), the seasonal changes and meteorological bedlam that this region suffers through is always intriguing. As each season--let alone day, week, month--arrives, I watch my house withstand the elements and cave to their tenacity in various ways. This winter? half a fence came down. Last fall? a gazillion leaves from the oaks came down. Early spring? buckets and buckets of rain came down (fast) and stayed three inches deep in my side yard. Then it leaked into my basement. Ugh. This latter situation is now a common theme around here.....
Yesterday, we got about 30 minutes of balls-out rain. Sheets. Walls. Pounding rain. And once again, my side yard flooded. I have tricks now, but these are only in response to Mother Nature not anything that will curb her sinister humor toward The Buff. So, out came the pool pump to empty the window wells out to the street. I have even had that sucker sitting on the ground draining it! Several old towels and a ShopVac dried the basement floor. A de-humidifier is in my future. Another contractor will soon get some of my student loan money to fix it, I'm sure. Stimulus check, indeed. *Sigh*
Anyway, I also noticed that my gutters were not draining and instead overflowing. Badly. All of them. Around the house. Even in such a severe and potent storm as yesterday, these puppies threw in the towel quickly and started spilling. Hence, they are full of gunk which hasn't been cleaned out since I lived here, and probably a lot longer.
I slept in today (not sure why, exactly) and have the next three days completely empty to work on the Diss. Day and night. Son is out of town, boyfriend is out of town, Judy is in town. I may predict that this hunkering down that I will do until Friday afternoon COULD result in the completion of Chapter 2. FOR REAL. I had a HUGE day at the BECPL/Buffalo Historical Society on Friday and feel better even before I begin to write.
But, the weather calls for another blast of rain later on. Gutters beckon. If I get them done, maybe then I can resume "hermit" status and just fucking writing this thing.
I'm not afraid of heights, and my father gave an old ladder that will suit the job. At least I can throw on the Nano while working. The worst is the goop that comes out of the gutters. Yucky sucky.
Not sure I can put together a specifically "gutter"-based playlist. Maybe go for "rain" themes. Tons of those. "Rain Song," "No Rain," "Red Rain," "Stormy Weather," "Rainiy Days and Mondays," "Here Comes the Rain Again," on and on.
Off I go into the wild goopy yonder. Hopefully by this time tomorrow, I'll have lots of writing already in black, some in blue, and no red (check back post for "seeing red"). As long as I don't fall off the ladder, of course..... *smile*
Yesterday, we got about 30 minutes of balls-out rain. Sheets. Walls. Pounding rain. And once again, my side yard flooded. I have tricks now, but these are only in response to Mother Nature not anything that will curb her sinister humor toward The Buff. So, out came the pool pump to empty the window wells out to the street. I have even had that sucker sitting on the ground draining it! Several old towels and a ShopVac dried the basement floor. A de-humidifier is in my future. Another contractor will soon get some of my student loan money to fix it, I'm sure. Stimulus check, indeed. *Sigh*
Anyway, I also noticed that my gutters were not draining and instead overflowing. Badly. All of them. Around the house. Even in such a severe and potent storm as yesterday, these puppies threw in the towel quickly and started spilling. Hence, they are full of gunk which hasn't been cleaned out since I lived here, and probably a lot longer.
I slept in today (not sure why, exactly) and have the next three days completely empty to work on the Diss. Day and night. Son is out of town, boyfriend is out of town, Judy is in town. I may predict that this hunkering down that I will do until Friday afternoon COULD result in the completion of Chapter 2. FOR REAL. I had a HUGE day at the BECPL/Buffalo Historical Society on Friday and feel better even before I begin to write.
But, the weather calls for another blast of rain later on. Gutters beckon. If I get them done, maybe then I can resume "hermit" status and just fucking writing this thing.
I'm not afraid of heights, and my father gave an old ladder that will suit the job. At least I can throw on the Nano while working. The worst is the goop that comes out of the gutters. Yucky sucky.
Not sure I can put together a specifically "gutter"-based playlist. Maybe go for "rain" themes. Tons of those. "Rain Song," "No Rain," "Red Rain," "Stormy Weather," "Rainiy Days and Mondays," "Here Comes the Rain Again," on and on.
Off I go into the wild goopy yonder. Hopefully by this time tomorrow, I'll have lots of writing already in black, some in blue, and no red (check back post for "seeing red"). As long as I don't fall off the ladder, of course..... *smile*
Friday, July 18, 2008
Colonel Mustard in the ballroom with a......
microfilm machine?!?!?! Doesn't sound like I'm the best detective....
BUT, today I am playing detective, splitting my Friday between the Buffalo Historical Society and the Buffalo and Erie County Public Library (known now in my Diss footnotes as BECPL. Now you know, too). And I'm having lunch with my mom downtown at noon and meeting Raquel, who lives downtown, for happy hour. At 3pm. Even though I am up early (again....ugh), time today is going to fly fast. Better have my notebook poised and pencil sharpened.
"The Buffalo Gazette" went to print in 1810. 1810!!!!! And I must get my sweaty paws on some copies, even if they are from later on down the road, like 1825. There were only 1,500 friggin' people here then! Yesterday, I spent a painstaking afternoon TRYING to piece together musical life in the ol' frontier village of Buffalo up until 1860. Oy! There is information scattered EVERYWHERE and I seem to be the latest schmuck trying to cull all of this very, um, fascinating crap together. Why (you ask)? Good question.
My Diss intro chapter---the one where I make my case and throw everything but the kitchen sink (or perhaps the revolver or candlestick) behind my "theory"---came together quickly after a year of research, mayhem, madness and procrastination. Nothing works better for this girl than a deadline. Anyway, I know my Chapter 1 is clumsy and will get clumsier as my research gets more vivid and my writing gets done. That's what "revision" is for, yes?. But I also know that my theories and ideas are solid. I believe in this Dissertation, I really do. I haven't been silly enough to ask myself WHY I believe so much....that can of crazy will wait until I have a real job with benefits that include therapy. Ha ha!
ANYWAY, although my Diss focuses intently (or will one day) on music in The Buff during the Depression era, I know in my bones that I have to include info about how Buff got there. And, I'm really curious about it. So that's my Chapter 2. And as I write, I find lots of holes that need to be filled. Hence, "The Buffalo Gazette."
We're a feisty bunch, we Buffalonians. People today believe this and work it for all their chicken wing-filled might. And from what I've gathered so far, this ethos was here from the get-go. The opening of the Erie Canal in 1825 brought money, trade, notoriety, innovation and absolute pandemonium to this sleepy lil' village on the lake. While hangings, brothels and public indecency have made it into the historical tomes I've already uncovered, music making has not.
And this is where I come in. My education--while stellar--has given me little prep for serious archival research. I have many theories I can spew out about all kinds of musical, cultural, economic, political, sexual, etc. etc. matters. Ask and ye shall receive. But, I'm nervous today, a little bit, about poking around the past and getting lost in it. Getting overwhelmed or confused by it. Getting excited about it?
Coffee's done. I gotta water the garden and then pack up for the day. Parking downtown sucks, so best I get there early. 1810, here I come....without a clue.
BUT, today I am playing detective, splitting my Friday between the Buffalo Historical Society and the Buffalo and Erie County Public Library (known now in my Diss footnotes as BECPL. Now you know, too). And I'm having lunch with my mom downtown at noon and meeting Raquel, who lives downtown, for happy hour. At 3pm. Even though I am up early (again....ugh), time today is going to fly fast. Better have my notebook poised and pencil sharpened.
"The Buffalo Gazette" went to print in 1810. 1810!!!!! And I must get my sweaty paws on some copies, even if they are from later on down the road, like 1825. There were only 1,500 friggin' people here then! Yesterday, I spent a painstaking afternoon TRYING to piece together musical life in the ol' frontier village of Buffalo up until 1860. Oy! There is information scattered EVERYWHERE and I seem to be the latest schmuck trying to cull all of this very, um, fascinating crap together. Why (you ask)? Good question.
My Diss intro chapter---the one where I make my case and throw everything but the kitchen sink (or perhaps the revolver or candlestick) behind my "theory"---came together quickly after a year of research, mayhem, madness and procrastination. Nothing works better for this girl than a deadline. Anyway, I know my Chapter 1 is clumsy and will get clumsier as my research gets more vivid and my writing gets done. That's what "revision" is for, yes?. But I also know that my theories and ideas are solid. I believe in this Dissertation, I really do. I haven't been silly enough to ask myself WHY I believe so much....that can of crazy will wait until I have a real job with benefits that include therapy. Ha ha!
ANYWAY, although my Diss focuses intently (or will one day) on music in The Buff during the Depression era, I know in my bones that I have to include info about how Buff got there. And, I'm really curious about it. So that's my Chapter 2. And as I write, I find lots of holes that need to be filled. Hence, "The Buffalo Gazette."
We're a feisty bunch, we Buffalonians. People today believe this and work it for all their chicken wing-filled might. And from what I've gathered so far, this ethos was here from the get-go. The opening of the Erie Canal in 1825 brought money, trade, notoriety, innovation and absolute pandemonium to this sleepy lil' village on the lake. While hangings, brothels and public indecency have made it into the historical tomes I've already uncovered, music making has not.
And this is where I come in. My education--while stellar--has given me little prep for serious archival research. I have many theories I can spew out about all kinds of musical, cultural, economic, political, sexual, etc. etc. matters. Ask and ye shall receive. But, I'm nervous today, a little bit, about poking around the past and getting lost in it. Getting overwhelmed or confused by it. Getting excited about it?
Coffee's done. I gotta water the garden and then pack up for the day. Parking downtown sucks, so best I get there early. 1810, here I come....without a clue.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
the Hart of the matter
I've written about The Buff's "Thursday in the Park" concert series before when Yonder Mountain String Band performed. The concerts are free, the beer is Canadian (Labatts) and the crowd is perfect for people watching. Jakob Dylan was great a few weeks ago and Jimmie Vaughn had the house a' rockin last week. Tonight? Mickey Hart. I'm already wearing tie-dye.
My first Dead show was in 1989, and my "generation" of fans are referred to by Deadheads of the first wave as "Touch-heads" because our fandom crested when The Dead threw the video for "Touch of Grey" into high-rotation on MYV in 1987. These are the ways of the world. What could I have done about this apparently blatant smack in the face to Generation Baby Boom as they watched The Dead directly confront (and win over) Generation X? Even at 16, I gauged the situation, saw what the deal was, and wore a tie-dye dress for my high school graduation. Showtime!
That first Dead show for me was at Rich Stadium (now Ralph Wilson Stadium), home to the Buff Bills and any large event that needs 76,000 seats to pull off. The show was astounding to me: the people, the atmosphere, how great the tunes sounded (many of which I had just recently come to know), the whole deal. Here's where it gets interesting, to the point where when I tell this story, I get good laughs (and I'm frequently told my jokes are not funny but this is no joke).
A-hem. I am not a big drug user. Present me with a cooler full of Bud Lite and you have me forever. But growing up in the 'burbs of The Buff offered its share of whatever drug was out there. Mushrooms? Whenever friends took them, they immediately threw up. No thanks. Blow? I don't need any more stimulants in this lil' body, thank you. CRACK? No drug should be in that much demand if named after a body part that is always covered. Acid? I create alternate universes for myself pretty regularly anyway. Heroin? Um, no. And, any pot--even "good stuff" makes me dopey and sleepy. For real. So, beer is my drug of choice, and was on my first Dead show day.
NOW, my father is an Eagle Scout and his buddies volunteered at a food stand in the stadium for EVERY event for, like, a decade. The proceeds benefited Boy Scout troop stuff. He drove me and a bunch of slightly buzzed friends to the gate and dropped us like a swirly, giggly pancake into the parking lot. My dad had already figured out that I was generally a "good kid" who liked a cold, frosty beverage (or 10) every once in awhile, and even at 18, he didn't give me much flak about it. That day, I became the "beer runner" for my friends and I, and often made them giddy by returning to our spot in the Dead world that day with trays of beers and snacks from my dad.
Right before the second set, my friend Marc warbled, "we're out of munitions." So, off I went. I wasn't bombed by any means because the show was fun and I had sort of became the de facto leader of this crazy Brady Bunch of friends. This is the conversation that ensued with my pops:
Me: Hey Dad. Six beers stat. Any maybe some pizza.
Dad (with his frown/raised-eyebrow combo accompanied by laughter from my two Uncles, one Aunt, and several other adults I'd known since birth): Are you sure?
Me: Of course I'm sure. Why not?
Dad: (still frowning). Ok. Wait here.
Dad (coming back with gifts but still frowning): How's the show?
Me: Awesome! Are you going to check out a song or two?
Dad (still frowning): Maybe as we close up here at the end.
Me: Cool. Why are you frowning like that?
Dad: Oh, shit. I don't know. Our sales are down and no one can figure out why. The beer's going like mad, but the pizza's sitting here getting cold. It's a sell-out show, for chrissakes. (more frowning, people watching)
Me (in all serious): What's on the pizza?
Dad: Cheese and friggin' pepperoni, what the hell else would be on a friggin' pizza?
Me (pausing, thinking): Dad, the vast majority of this crowd wouldn't eat a pepperoni even if it had Acid on it. Pull the pepperoni off before you put it in the oven and get Uncle John to start yelling "Veggie Pizza, Veggie Pizza!!" and see what happens?!?!?!
Dad (dramatic pause): HOLY SHIT! (turns to my Unlce) John, start pulling that goddamn pepperoni off. Now. This isn't a goddamn football game for chrissakes. Holy shit!
Me: Yahoo!!!! Gotta go. I'll meet you here after for a ride home.
Dad: Thanks Jude! Do you want a concert shirt or something?
Me: Sure! Pick out a cool one for me. See ya!
And I traipsed my way back to the pack. Two hours later, I met my dad back the stand with several severely altered friends. The pizza had sold out, and Deadheads of all ages had been "digging" the veggie style. My family was in stitches. NOW, I was bombed, but happy in my drunkenness that my dad had a good night AND had bought me a killer concert-T with spiral dancing bears on it. Family effort, I guess.
That shirt is in my T-shirt drawer right now, and that's what I'm wearing to see Mickey Hart tonight. With a stick of pepperoni in my bag, of course.
My first Dead show was in 1989, and my "generation" of fans are referred to by Deadheads of the first wave as "Touch-heads" because our fandom crested when The Dead threw the video for "Touch of Grey" into high-rotation on MYV in 1987. These are the ways of the world. What could I have done about this apparently blatant smack in the face to Generation Baby Boom as they watched The Dead directly confront (and win over) Generation X? Even at 16, I gauged the situation, saw what the deal was, and wore a tie-dye dress for my high school graduation. Showtime!
That first Dead show for me was at Rich Stadium (now Ralph Wilson Stadium), home to the Buff Bills and any large event that needs 76,000 seats to pull off. The show was astounding to me: the people, the atmosphere, how great the tunes sounded (many of which I had just recently come to know), the whole deal. Here's where it gets interesting, to the point where when I tell this story, I get good laughs (and I'm frequently told my jokes are not funny but this is no joke).
A-hem. I am not a big drug user. Present me with a cooler full of Bud Lite and you have me forever. But growing up in the 'burbs of The Buff offered its share of whatever drug was out there. Mushrooms? Whenever friends took them, they immediately threw up. No thanks. Blow? I don't need any more stimulants in this lil' body, thank you. CRACK? No drug should be in that much demand if named after a body part that is always covered. Acid? I create alternate universes for myself pretty regularly anyway. Heroin? Um, no. And, any pot--even "good stuff" makes me dopey and sleepy. For real. So, beer is my drug of choice, and was on my first Dead show day.
NOW, my father is an Eagle Scout and his buddies volunteered at a food stand in the stadium for EVERY event for, like, a decade. The proceeds benefited Boy Scout troop stuff. He drove me and a bunch of slightly buzzed friends to the gate and dropped us like a swirly, giggly pancake into the parking lot. My dad had already figured out that I was generally a "good kid" who liked a cold, frosty beverage (or 10) every once in awhile, and even at 18, he didn't give me much flak about it. That day, I became the "beer runner" for my friends and I, and often made them giddy by returning to our spot in the Dead world that day with trays of beers and snacks from my dad.
Right before the second set, my friend Marc warbled, "we're out of munitions." So, off I went. I wasn't bombed by any means because the show was fun and I had sort of became the de facto leader of this crazy Brady Bunch of friends. This is the conversation that ensued with my pops:
Me: Hey Dad. Six beers stat. Any maybe some pizza.
Dad (with his frown/raised-eyebrow combo accompanied by laughter from my two Uncles, one Aunt, and several other adults I'd known since birth): Are you sure?
Me: Of course I'm sure. Why not?
Dad: (still frowning). Ok. Wait here.
Dad (coming back with gifts but still frowning): How's the show?
Me: Awesome! Are you going to check out a song or two?
Dad (still frowning): Maybe as we close up here at the end.
Me: Cool. Why are you frowning like that?
Dad: Oh, shit. I don't know. Our sales are down and no one can figure out why. The beer's going like mad, but the pizza's sitting here getting cold. It's a sell-out show, for chrissakes. (more frowning, people watching)
Me (in all serious): What's on the pizza?
Dad: Cheese and friggin' pepperoni, what the hell else would be on a friggin' pizza?
Me (pausing, thinking): Dad, the vast majority of this crowd wouldn't eat a pepperoni even if it had Acid on it. Pull the pepperoni off before you put it in the oven and get Uncle John to start yelling "Veggie Pizza, Veggie Pizza!!" and see what happens?!?!?!
Dad (dramatic pause): HOLY SHIT! (turns to my Unlce) John, start pulling that goddamn pepperoni off. Now. This isn't a goddamn football game for chrissakes. Holy shit!
Me: Yahoo!!!! Gotta go. I'll meet you here after for a ride home.
Dad: Thanks Jude! Do you want a concert shirt or something?
Me: Sure! Pick out a cool one for me. See ya!
And I traipsed my way back to the pack. Two hours later, I met my dad back the stand with several severely altered friends. The pizza had sold out, and Deadheads of all ages had been "digging" the veggie style. My family was in stitches. NOW, I was bombed, but happy in my drunkenness that my dad had a good night AND had bought me a killer concert-T with spiral dancing bears on it. Family effort, I guess.
That shirt is in my T-shirt drawer right now, and that's what I'm wearing to see Mickey Hart tonight. With a stick of pepperoni in my bag, of course.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
saving Nemo
Again, it's early. I'm the early bird filled with energy and inspiration before 8am again. So, besides the garden, I have put together a spiffy fish aquarium. I saw a cool 25 gallon tank on a black iron stand at a garage sale while attending a 3-year old's birthday party in The Buff's Parkside neighborhood (very cool part of town). Cheap as hell with no leaks. Sold!
It is not salt water (I'm not that high maintenance, nor do I want to become so), and on this clear and already crazy morning, my Bala shark and one of my red Tetras are covered in little white spots. And going down fast. A hunch says its "Ick," a sickness prone to freshwater fish, although I remember some kid at the fish store telling me when asked about a similar condition on one of their fish that it wasn't. But it sure looks like it is. Bummer. My son's fish is the shark, and he's not here. If Sharky dies, do I replace and fake it or pull the "circle of life" lesson? Oh, parenting.......So, my errand list has changed dramatically from "Don't leave the house and don't spend any money. Stay on the chair and write" to a whole host of tiny duties close to PetSmart. Hypermiling included.
Without any concern I admit that "Finding Nemo" was one of my more favorite kid-angled movies to experience since becoming a parent. I have no idea how many times I have sat through this film (dozens? almost a hundred?) but I love it for many reasons:
1. I love the water/fish/swimming anyway and this movie is beautiful in its computer-generated underwater world.
2. The actors hired for the voices of all the fish are stellar.
3. The message always makes me cry
4. The turtles are beach surfers/hippies
5. It reminds me of Adorno because...
6. I love the music (Thomas Newman) although almost all of my graduate musicology education tells me I shouldn't.
I took a seminar in grad school about film music. The class sucked while being perfect at the same time, and it is all coming together today in my fish tank dilemma as I now listen to the "Finding Nemo" soundtrack that has been long downloaded into my computer (my son loves it). The seminar was GREAT because I took it my first semester and the instructor had no idea how to lead a true seminar and gave us no extra work outside of class. For real. It saved me that semester. It was also great because we watched movies three hours a week and listened to her explain the merits and content of the music. Week after week. It was also great because I used "Finding Nemo" for the final (and only) assignment, which took me about an hour to prepare. Not the greatest model for a grad seminar, but it worked for me.
What has always bugged me most about that seminar is the instructor's insistence that current Hollywood film music composers have ruined "the good old days" of movies which, in her mind, extends from the birth of Hollywood until circa 1978 or so. IN GENERAL, I frown at those who bemoan our current existence in favor of one they didn't live through but have learned about. I feel it's ok for an 85-year old to bitch about how the 1950s were better but feel itchy when a 40-year old does.......A-hem.......Anyhoo, learning about/understanding/continuing to grasp Adorno's philosophy was probably the most VALUABLE part of my grad school efforts (and he never came up in the film studies course, for real). And I sit lulled and captivated by Thomas Newman's swishy swirly (lovely) music and feel trapped in the Culture Industry, a pawn in my own pathetic aesthetic existence (Adorno would attest).
And I sometimes don't care. Or can't. Or I simply move on. The loss of a fish, the loss of control (if I ever had it), the loss of the good old days....whatever.....I don't like to make categories of "good" and "bad" and try to use "what is being determined as valuable" and "what is not working" instead. Change is the common element, not stasis. So what is not working today comes down to solving a health issue for my fishies. But other than that, everything else is. Happy Wednesday!
It is not salt water (I'm not that high maintenance, nor do I want to become so), and on this clear and already crazy morning, my Bala shark and one of my red Tetras are covered in little white spots. And going down fast. A hunch says its "Ick," a sickness prone to freshwater fish, although I remember some kid at the fish store telling me when asked about a similar condition on one of their fish that it wasn't. But it sure looks like it is. Bummer. My son's fish is the shark, and he's not here. If Sharky dies, do I replace and fake it or pull the "circle of life" lesson? Oh, parenting.......So, my errand list has changed dramatically from "Don't leave the house and don't spend any money. Stay on the chair and write" to a whole host of tiny duties close to PetSmart. Hypermiling included.
Without any concern I admit that "Finding Nemo" was one of my more favorite kid-angled movies to experience since becoming a parent. I have no idea how many times I have sat through this film (dozens? almost a hundred?) but I love it for many reasons:
1. I love the water/fish/swimming anyway and this movie is beautiful in its computer-generated underwater world.
2. The actors hired for the voices of all the fish are stellar.
3. The message always makes me cry
4. The turtles are beach surfers/hippies
5. It reminds me of Adorno because...
6. I love the music (Thomas Newman) although almost all of my graduate musicology education tells me I shouldn't.
I took a seminar in grad school about film music. The class sucked while being perfect at the same time, and it is all coming together today in my fish tank dilemma as I now listen to the "Finding Nemo" soundtrack that has been long downloaded into my computer (my son loves it). The seminar was GREAT because I took it my first semester and the instructor had no idea how to lead a true seminar and gave us no extra work outside of class. For real. It saved me that semester. It was also great because we watched movies three hours a week and listened to her explain the merits and content of the music. Week after week. It was also great because I used "Finding Nemo" for the final (and only) assignment, which took me about an hour to prepare. Not the greatest model for a grad seminar, but it worked for me.
What has always bugged me most about that seminar is the instructor's insistence that current Hollywood film music composers have ruined "the good old days" of movies which, in her mind, extends from the birth of Hollywood until circa 1978 or so. IN GENERAL, I frown at those who bemoan our current existence in favor of one they didn't live through but have learned about. I feel it's ok for an 85-year old to bitch about how the 1950s were better but feel itchy when a 40-year old does.......A-hem.......Anyhoo, learning about/understanding/continuing to grasp Adorno's philosophy was probably the most VALUABLE part of my grad school efforts (and he never came up in the film studies course, for real). And I sit lulled and captivated by Thomas Newman's swishy swirly (lovely) music and feel trapped in the Culture Industry, a pawn in my own pathetic aesthetic existence (Adorno would attest).
And I sometimes don't care. Or can't. Or I simply move on. The loss of a fish, the loss of control (if I ever had it), the loss of the good old days....whatever.....I don't like to make categories of "good" and "bad" and try to use "what is being determined as valuable" and "what is not working" instead. Change is the common element, not stasis. So what is not working today comes down to solving a health issue for my fishies. But other than that, everything else is. Happy Wednesday!
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
watching peas grow
I am not usually a "morning" person. Without the jolt of an alarm clock, my inner clock feels best going off around 8am or so. Today, I was up at 6am although I slept terribly. I had a weird weekend and still felt yucky yesterday and hoped for a great, long night of deep sleep (there was a bee sting involved on Saturday which altered my universe for awhile......) but didn't get it.
But, I'm up and in the chair already. Coffee is brewing, teeth are brushed, the Word files are ready to be opened. My boyfriend won't be home from work til around 9pm and I've scheduled no other events today and don't want to spend any money (I try this experiment often, the not spending anything thing. I love when it's a success). So, I'm hunkered down in The Buff and will try to make the most of Diss writing and other assorted odds and ends around my house.
When I searched for a house here a year ago, I had to adjust to the Buffalo housing market and how different it is from, well, the rest of the country. There has been no housing "bubble," so to say because this is not a highly desired part of the country to move to. In fact, people keep moving out mostly to the south (the Carolinas, Florida, Atlanta). So, I paid much less for a bigger house here in Buffalo than either of the two houses in I had in Denver (that was bigger, actually, but needed A LOT of work) or Madison. Which is good.
The Buff house needed a lot of TLC. I could sense its potential compared to the price, however, and the backyard was pretty much an open template of possibilities for me to explore. So, I started a garden. To be honest, I hardly ate veggies growing up. Meat n' potatoes kind of thing. Now I eat them all and like to experiment mixing different elements together. Salads are my favorite meal.
I have two pumpkin plants with plenty of space for their future take over of the land, seven tomato plants, one strawberry plant, five beans, two red bell peppers, one cucumber, one Anaheim pepper, one cayenne pepper, one cilantro plant and one pea plant. It's not huge, but I like the variety and have already picked enough beans for a salad and some peppers. I've already got big plans for next year since all seems to be going well so far.
When I need a break from the chair and time to think about whatever passage I'm trying to write through, I go out and watch my garden. The fascinating plant is the pea plant. I've got five pods on it now, and it's little tendrils reach out throughout the day for some support. I've stuck four sticks in the ground and for each part of the plant that's exploring, it easily finds it's best stick and wraps that wispy (but no doubt strong) slender green finger around it. And, sometimes this occurs in under an hour! Amazing!
There must be some kind of "In Judy's Garden" playlist I can put together in light of all of this creativity/activity. "Four Sticks" by Zeppelin, "Beans n' Cornbread" by whomever that is, "Wicked Garden" by STP, "Garden" by Pearl Jam, "The Great Pumpkin" from The Peanuts, something by Weather Report, "Let It Grow" by Eric Clapton, something from a Robert Plant solo record, Soundgarden......hmmmmmmm. This might be fun. Other suggestions welcome!
I'm goin' out to check the peas. I need something for breakfast after all!!
But, I'm up and in the chair already. Coffee is brewing, teeth are brushed, the Word files are ready to be opened. My boyfriend won't be home from work til around 9pm and I've scheduled no other events today and don't want to spend any money (I try this experiment often, the not spending anything thing. I love when it's a success). So, I'm hunkered down in The Buff and will try to make the most of Diss writing and other assorted odds and ends around my house.
When I searched for a house here a year ago, I had to adjust to the Buffalo housing market and how different it is from, well, the rest of the country. There has been no housing "bubble," so to say because this is not a highly desired part of the country to move to. In fact, people keep moving out mostly to the south (the Carolinas, Florida, Atlanta). So, I paid much less for a bigger house here in Buffalo than either of the two houses in I had in Denver (that was bigger, actually, but needed A LOT of work) or Madison. Which is good.
The Buff house needed a lot of TLC. I could sense its potential compared to the price, however, and the backyard was pretty much an open template of possibilities for me to explore. So, I started a garden. To be honest, I hardly ate veggies growing up. Meat n' potatoes kind of thing. Now I eat them all and like to experiment mixing different elements together. Salads are my favorite meal.
I have two pumpkin plants with plenty of space for their future take over of the land, seven tomato plants, one strawberry plant, five beans, two red bell peppers, one cucumber, one Anaheim pepper, one cayenne pepper, one cilantro plant and one pea plant. It's not huge, but I like the variety and have already picked enough beans for a salad and some peppers. I've already got big plans for next year since all seems to be going well so far.
When I need a break from the chair and time to think about whatever passage I'm trying to write through, I go out and watch my garden. The fascinating plant is the pea plant. I've got five pods on it now, and it's little tendrils reach out throughout the day for some support. I've stuck four sticks in the ground and for each part of the plant that's exploring, it easily finds it's best stick and wraps that wispy (but no doubt strong) slender green finger around it. And, sometimes this occurs in under an hour! Amazing!
There must be some kind of "In Judy's Garden" playlist I can put together in light of all of this creativity/activity. "Four Sticks" by Zeppelin, "Beans n' Cornbread" by whomever that is, "Wicked Garden" by STP, "Garden" by Pearl Jam, "The Great Pumpkin" from The Peanuts, something by Weather Report, "Let It Grow" by Eric Clapton, something from a Robert Plant solo record, Soundgarden......hmmmmmmm. This might be fun. Other suggestions welcome!
I'm goin' out to check the peas. I need something for breakfast after all!!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
A beautiful day.....on the chair
It's gorgeous outside right now. 10am, clear skies, sunny, 70 degrees. Yesterday it was very soggy, humid and rainy until about 3pm when I left for the moe. show. Yesterday, I had no problem focusing on writing, and I wrote very well and feel like I accomplished some good problem-solving, thinking and prose. And today...what a beautiful day! So, I've glued myself to my chair (mentally I envision my butt "attached" to this chair) with the notion that I simply cannot go outside to garden, swim or chat with my neighbors (I'm sort of chatty.....) because I simply cannot remove my tush from this chair. Until 3pm. And only to go to the bathroom or get coffee and then quickly return to the chair. Must....stay....on....chair.
I have two chapters in the works right now. My Chapter 1/intro/prospectus that I gave to my adviser in May is the typical sort of outline of the Diss, and I haven't looked at in awhile. Which I think is good for now. By August, I hope to have all of Chapter 2 written (tentatively called, "Borders, Bridges and Booze: A Brief History of Music in Buffalo, New York") and much more solid writing and narrative research for Chapter 3. I have a feeling that my Chapter 1/prospectus is going to read like a bunch of 1st-year grad school slop by the time I get back to it in late August. I hope to know a helluva lot more about what I'm actually writing about than I did while trying to describe what I HOPED to write about (the latter being much of the content of Chapter 1, me thinks...). Quite a process, this Diss.
Chapter 3 requires a visit to the National Archives in D.C., which I had thought could be accomplished next week. Ha Ha Ho Ho that is not fucking possible. I'm realizing that I need to get the music history of Buffalo prior to 1925 (Chapter 2) down and dirty before REALLY understanding what I need for Chapter 3 (the development of the Buff Phil Orch due to New Deal/FMP funding). But oddly--and other writers can hopefully understand this cuz if not, i'm up Shit's Creek, big time--I DO know what I need to research at the Archives, sort of. But not really. But sort of. It's tricky to try to explain. Eh-hemmm......I know the information that I need is only available there in numerous boxes. I know that it will help me put together some missing pieces not available here in The Buff. I know (intuitively) that the factoids in those boxes will mesh with the research and theories I'm putting forth so far in Chap. 3. BUT, I don't know what's in those boxes because I HAVEN'T GONE THERE YET. But I can't go yet. Not yet. Oy vey.
I'm staring to slowly spin around and around on this chair, as if my own swirling logic gives this hunk of metal some momentum of its own. But I will not get off the chair today. Until 3pm. Well wishes appreciated......
I have two chapters in the works right now. My Chapter 1/intro/prospectus that I gave to my adviser in May is the typical sort of outline of the Diss, and I haven't looked at in awhile. Which I think is good for now. By August, I hope to have all of Chapter 2 written (tentatively called, "Borders, Bridges and Booze: A Brief History of Music in Buffalo, New York") and much more solid writing and narrative research for Chapter 3. I have a feeling that my Chapter 1/prospectus is going to read like a bunch of 1st-year grad school slop by the time I get back to it in late August. I hope to know a helluva lot more about what I'm actually writing about than I did while trying to describe what I HOPED to write about (the latter being much of the content of Chapter 1, me thinks...). Quite a process, this Diss.
Chapter 3 requires a visit to the National Archives in D.C., which I had thought could be accomplished next week. Ha Ha Ho Ho that is not fucking possible. I'm realizing that I need to get the music history of Buffalo prior to 1925 (Chapter 2) down and dirty before REALLY understanding what I need for Chapter 3 (the development of the Buff Phil Orch due to New Deal/FMP funding). But oddly--and other writers can hopefully understand this cuz if not, i'm up Shit's Creek, big time--I DO know what I need to research at the Archives, sort of. But not really. But sort of. It's tricky to try to explain. Eh-hemmm......I know the information that I need is only available there in numerous boxes. I know that it will help me put together some missing pieces not available here in The Buff. I know (intuitively) that the factoids in those boxes will mesh with the research and theories I'm putting forth so far in Chap. 3. BUT, I don't know what's in those boxes because I HAVEN'T GONE THERE YET. But I can't go yet. Not yet. Oy vey.
I'm staring to slowly spin around and around on this chair, as if my own swirling logic gives this hunk of metal some momentum of its own. But I will not get off the chair today. Until 3pm. Well wishes appreciated......
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
takin' mom to moe.
Now that my son is with his dad for a month, my relationship with my parents shifts a bit. They live close by and are very involved in our lives, which is wonderful. They babysit my son or we all go do something usually revolving around activities that the little guy enjoys, etc. Now that I'm flying solo, my days are filling up with Diss work, yardwork, hanging with my boyfriend and slipping out here and there to chill with my girlfriends. So, it's a different kind of effort to interact with my parents when there isn't a fresh faced 8-year old to focus on. For instance, I'm going over Thursday afternoon to do a shitload of sidewalk edging for my father, who can't do it himself anymore. And I'm sure I'll be on a ladder checking gutters or some other daughterly task. Which is fun in its own right.
Anyway, tonight I'm taking my mom to see moe., a band originally from Buffalo and longtime friends of mine. They are playing a free outdoor concert at Artpark in Lewiston, NY, a bastion of natural and artistic beauty sitting right on the Niagara Gorge (google Artpark. It's a beautiful place). The concert starts at 6:30 and moe. will play two sets with no opening band (a usual live format for them). My history with moe. begins in 1993 when I saw them live at a bar in downtown Buffalo and was simultaneously trying to bully my way into the Buffalo music journalism scene. I wrote my first "feature" article on moe. in a zine called "Slack." It was my first article AND their first article. We became fast friends and still have contact after all these years.
I'm hoping to get backstage to say hi and I'm hoping my mom will enjoy this experience. She is not a regular concert goer, per se, but my son has brought out this wonderful youth and invigorated energy in both of my parents, so she is up for anything these days. moe. always puts on a great show to boot.
moe. is often listed as a jamband, if that term even has any merit left. I find them a well-rounded representative of the blue-collar town that bred them.....sort of Rush meets The Dead meets Triumph meets George Carlin. The band is humorous, smart, and wickedly musical. I also respect how they grabbed the reigns of the band back from Sony after signing an early record deal (1996-ish) and discovering that they could more ably handle their career themselves.
Artpark is about an hour away, over several bridges and into the northern part of the Buffalo-Niagara region. I haven't been there for awhile, and in prep for the trip, I've compiled a moe. playlist for the Nano to take along. Here it is:
1. Seat of My Pants
2. Stranger Than Fiction
3. Spine of a Dog
4. St. Augustine
5. Captain America
6. Happy Hour Hero
7. New York City
8. Tambourine
9. Plane Crash
10. Nebraska
11. Not Coming Down
12. Moth
13. Buster
14. Timmy Tucker
15. Brent Black
16. Rebubula (live)
Not a bad way to spend an evening with mom. Dylan is coming soon, and maybe I'll take my mom, myself, and my son (he'll be back by then, and this would be his second time seeing The Dylan).....this could be the start of a great multi-generational rock out for the Bradys!!!!
Anyway, tonight I'm taking my mom to see moe., a band originally from Buffalo and longtime friends of mine. They are playing a free outdoor concert at Artpark in Lewiston, NY, a bastion of natural and artistic beauty sitting right on the Niagara Gorge (google Artpark. It's a beautiful place). The concert starts at 6:30 and moe. will play two sets with no opening band (a usual live format for them). My history with moe. begins in 1993 when I saw them live at a bar in downtown Buffalo and was simultaneously trying to bully my way into the Buffalo music journalism scene. I wrote my first "feature" article on moe. in a zine called "Slack." It was my first article AND their first article. We became fast friends and still have contact after all these years.
I'm hoping to get backstage to say hi and I'm hoping my mom will enjoy this experience. She is not a regular concert goer, per se, but my son has brought out this wonderful youth and invigorated energy in both of my parents, so she is up for anything these days. moe. always puts on a great show to boot.
moe. is often listed as a jamband, if that term even has any merit left. I find them a well-rounded representative of the blue-collar town that bred them.....sort of Rush meets The Dead meets Triumph meets George Carlin. The band is humorous, smart, and wickedly musical. I also respect how they grabbed the reigns of the band back from Sony after signing an early record deal (1996-ish) and discovering that they could more ably handle their career themselves.
Artpark is about an hour away, over several bridges and into the northern part of the Buffalo-Niagara region. I haven't been there for awhile, and in prep for the trip, I've compiled a moe. playlist for the Nano to take along. Here it is:
1. Seat of My Pants
2. Stranger Than Fiction
3. Spine of a Dog
4. St. Augustine
5. Captain America
6. Happy Hour Hero
7. New York City
8. Tambourine
9. Plane Crash
10. Nebraska
11. Not Coming Down
12. Moth
13. Buster
14. Timmy Tucker
15. Brent Black
16. Rebubula (live)
Not a bad way to spend an evening with mom. Dylan is coming soon, and maybe I'll take my mom, myself, and my son (he'll be back by then, and this would be his second time seeing The Dylan).....this could be the start of a great multi-generational rock out for the Bradys!!!!
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
tuesday's child is full of.....
sluggishness? ha ha. nope. Tuesday's child is full of grace, so the ol' poem goes. This is interesting because today is the first day of my attempt to spend a month in my full-time "job" working on my Diss. It's risky and certainly riddled with various aspects of poverty, but it has to be done. My son is with his father, and I need to make the big push NOW. One month. Grace, indeed.
And, the church that I work for is Grace Lutheran. I have a piano student at 3pm and a church meeting at 7pm. In the interim, I have a ton of churchy music stuff to do. Grace, indeed.
Beautiful, sunny, hot, muggy morning today. Definitely a two-potter for the coffee portion of my diet today. I am suh-leeepy!!!
Tally of my holiday weekend, which was awesome:
3 live bands: Jakob Dylan, The Jeremy Hoyle Band (local at the beach), and Ron Hawkins (lead singer of Lowest of the Low, who rock Canada style)
3 baseball games: The Buffalo Bisons, my boyfriend's softball, his friends' hardball
3 items in my salad yesterday grown in my garden: cilantro, Anaheim pepper, green beans
3 days of sleeping in (Sunday needed an alarm)
3 dips in the pool yesterday--it was a scorcher
and so on. A great weekend. "They" say that good things come in 3s. "They" also say that death comes in 3s....hmmmmmm. Grace, indeed.
Gotta go. I'm late for work. Wish me luck!
And, the church that I work for is Grace Lutheran. I have a piano student at 3pm and a church meeting at 7pm. In the interim, I have a ton of churchy music stuff to do. Grace, indeed.
Beautiful, sunny, hot, muggy morning today. Definitely a two-potter for the coffee portion of my diet today. I am suh-leeepy!!!
Tally of my holiday weekend, which was awesome:
3 live bands: Jakob Dylan, The Jeremy Hoyle Band (local at the beach), and Ron Hawkins (lead singer of Lowest of the Low, who rock Canada style)
3 baseball games: The Buffalo Bisons, my boyfriend's softball, his friends' hardball
3 items in my salad yesterday grown in my garden: cilantro, Anaheim pepper, green beans
3 days of sleeping in (Sunday needed an alarm)
3 dips in the pool yesterday--it was a scorcher
and so on. A great weekend. "They" say that good things come in 3s. "They" also say that death comes in 3s....hmmmmmm. Grace, indeed.
Gotta go. I'm late for work. Wish me luck!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
"it's been a while...."
I can't say "it's been a while" without then singing it the way Aaron Lewis does in his Staind song. "It's been a whiiiiile..." Either way, it's been a wonderful and full and crazy week since my pool bash. My son is with his dad having fun out West, and I am getting ready to enjoy the long holiday weekend, which I'm extending until Tuesday. Then it's Diss Diss Diss for the month.
A tally of the pool party events:
88 degrees in the pool
22 kids
18 adults
1 very large bounce house,
1 puke in the pool
1 toilet overflow
3 cannonball contests
3 pregnant women (all having girls)
85 empty beverage bottles (alcoholic, yeee-haaa!!)
countless laughs and merriment
It was awesome.
It has been raining uncontrollably throughout the past week, including today. But, there is sun on the horizon for the weekend and I'm hitting the beach. Although Buffalo sits on Lake Erie and the Niagara River, the city's development team has failed to do SOMETHING with an area downtown loosely termed "the Waterfront." It's rather pathetic, and the subject of passionate deriding of the city's governmental/civic foresight. So, the best beaches are in towns heading West on the ol' I-90 or Rte. 5/20 to either Mickey Rats, Castaways, or Sunset Bay. BEAUTIFUL beaches (although swimming in Lake Erie usually makes me a bit skittish and I stay close to the bar most of the time). But, a weekend at the beach and staying at a friend's beach house sounds pretty damn great to me. Care to join???
A tally of the pool party events:
88 degrees in the pool
22 kids
18 adults
1 very large bounce house,
1 puke in the pool
1 toilet overflow
3 cannonball contests
3 pregnant women (all having girls)
85 empty beverage bottles (alcoholic, yeee-haaa!!)
countless laughs and merriment
It was awesome.
It has been raining uncontrollably throughout the past week, including today. But, there is sun on the horizon for the weekend and I'm hitting the beach. Although Buffalo sits on Lake Erie and the Niagara River, the city's development team has failed to do SOMETHING with an area downtown loosely termed "the Waterfront." It's rather pathetic, and the subject of passionate deriding of the city's governmental/civic foresight. So, the best beaches are in towns heading West on the ol' I-90 or Rte. 5/20 to either Mickey Rats, Castaways, or Sunset Bay. BEAUTIFUL beaches (although swimming in Lake Erie usually makes me a bit skittish and I stay close to the bar most of the time). But, a weekend at the beach and staying at a friend's beach house sounds pretty damn great to me. Care to join???
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