thoughts from a walk in the east village on a sunday afternoon

I will not be a "good old days" person, if for no other reason than that the good old days always had something bad about them.

The spot where CBGB was is now some kind of gallery called 'Morrison Hotel'



[a moment, for you to let the irony of that simmer]

The building that once housed the Bouwerie Lane Theatre now offers Retail Space for Rent. And I think I saw in an article that a talented new developer has his eye on the residential space in the upper floors.

I will not sit inside a hot and badly ventilated coffee shop in the East Village on a gorgeous spring day, no matter how hip it is, or how beautiful its patrons.

I will, however, get one of their very delicious iced coffees and walk around the neighborhood for a while.

Much as it bugs me to admit it, the new facade of 40 Bond Street is pretty fucking rad.



I may sit in a cool and comfortable theater lobby while waiting for my partner for the matinee, no matter how un-hip.

Especially when there are nifty little tables & chairs.

No matter how geriatric I may seem in other circumstances, I am still likely to be one of the youngest people at certain live performances.

Especially matinees.

No matter how long I've known her, and how likely I know it to be, it still annoys me when she shows up late.

**addition**

I don't want to be one of those "I could have done that better" actors, but I auditioned for this show, nailed it, and goddam it, I could have done it better.

Weekend Away

Last weekend, not this one coming up. Not sure what I'm doing this weekend coming up.

But last weekend, a group of us went to Shannon's family place in the Delaware Water Gap. This group:

Evidently, when I hang with these people out of town, I wear t-shirts from schools I didn't attend (see Fire Island trip from last year). I don't know if I possess any shirts from schools I did attend.

At any rate, it was a fantastic time, full of action and food and drink and fun and good company. Played some games that were new to me, did ok in a poker tournament, made some magic in the kitchen (gazpacho & pizzettas w/Sherin, inventiveness with Tequila, a vegetarian version of Grandma H's fancy baked eggs), had a good balance of indoors and out. Aaron and Shannon have a wonderful family of friends, and it's great to be included in it. Thanks guys!

I really like that photo of us by the waterfall (even though it's sans Sherin & J.P., alas), and have lately been feeling somewhat drawn to getting back into photography. Which would mean getting a digital camera that is not part of my cell phone. Not totally sure I need another activity that will take up time, energy and money, but I used to be kind of good at it, and if one of the trips I'm aiming at this summer comes to pass, well, let's just say the photographic potential will be there...

Jon, Jon, Jon...

Ok, I've held back. The last few weeks have given us all such fodder for some rage against the political/media machines, and I've been restraining myself for the sake of good Spring vibes.


But now I'm going to cut loose just a little bit and unleash on one of my fave commentators. (side note: why 'commentator'? why not just 'commenter'?) Mr. Jon Stewart, who has consistently been there to skewer the Stupid - left, right and center - let a big ol' grapefruit of a ball drop last night.



He had Newt Gingrich as a guest on The Daily Show. Yes, that Newt Gingrich: former Speaker of the House, Clinton Nemesis, author of the Contract On America (What? it's Contract With America? C'mon, when you hire a hit man to grease some guy, you don't call it a contract with said guy, you call it a contract ON him), architect of the Neocon Revolution. And I'm thinking: "Yes! Now, in light of all the things that have been happening lately - the economy, the war, the food crisis, the back room approval of torture - you can get in some really good jabs, maybe even land a knockdown or two." And he set it up pretty well, showing a clip of Justice Antonin Scalia insisting, with a straight face, that 'torture' isn't 'punishment' (as, get this, part of his "charm offensive." I have lived too long.)

And what do they talk about? Obama's former minister.



WHAT?!?!??!?!



I know, I know - these things are vetted and scripted, or at least outlined. But this was the best outline you could get Gingrich to agree to as he's hawking his new co-authored novel about WWII? Really??

It's not that I don't have my problems with Reverend Wright, who seems extra special self-serving these days. It's not that I don't think it's fair for a Republican to kick the Democrats while they scuffle and scorn. It's not that I don't already have a HUGE issue with this sense among progressives that watching satire on TV is some kind of substitute for real activism. But Jon, if you're gonna hold a satire party and invite a pig, don't forget the meat fork.

The thing that may be bothering me most is that a lot of people would consider me a wing nut for thinking that the fact (fact, people, there's evidence, and they all admitted it) that the Vice President, Secretary of Defense, National Security Advisor and a room full of others, with the President's knowledge, got together and mapped out/approved of processes of torture - I'm sorry, "extreme methods" - that would be conducted by American Soldiers might be, oh, I don't know, MORE IMPORTANT than Bittergate, and who does what shots in what bars, and who eats what kind of cheesesteaks.

Yet there it is, all over the "liberal media": proof, time and again, that accountability, analysis and critical thinking are not part of the game.

Work with me folks. I think it's time to rewrite the rule book.

Record Store Update

Ok, rather than go on a political rant* (and, oh yes, I've got one in me today) I'm going to follow up on the Record Store Day post I made last week.

Saturday turned out to be fairly magnificent, weather-wise; and even though I was heartlessly blown off by my tennis partner du jour, I wasn't going to let that get me down. Took a long and beautiful walk through the 'boken, ending up at Tunes, my favored local music shop. Picked up a couple new releases I was looking for, then strolled to the back to check out the budget offerings. Greeted there by great news! Tunes has vastly expanded their vinyl selection, which used to be almost 100% new, audiophile-centric stuff. Which is fine and dandy, but now they have rows and rows of used stuff on the cheap. WAY better, people, at least for my purposes.

SO - I picked up some jazz, some classical, and some 80s pop. During the browse, I was taken by the band playing on the store speakers, so I picked that up too (The Dodos, a San Francisco folk-meets-art-rock group, very good - the disc is called "Visiter".) And, as if that weren't enough, they were selling these new-but-vintage-looking beer glasses up front: I got 4 pint glasses, complete with ice bucket and a dozen coasters, all graced with the "Old Style" logo (On Wisconsin!) for - wait for it- 10 bucks. Most satisfying.



Eventually, I went into town for a double feature and drinks with Sherin at the MoMA Jazz Score Film Festival. Saw Paris Blues (star-studded - Paul Newman, Sidney Poitier, Joanne Woodward - with great Duke Ellington & Louis Armstrong music, if a little cheesey. Plus, Diahann Carroll = yum) And...
Anatomy of a Murder (more Duke Ellington soundtrack action, written specifially for the movie this time. Very dated in some ways - hello 1950s sexual politics - but much funnier than I'd remembered, with first rate work from James Stewart, Ben Gazzara, Lee Remick and George C. Scott, and a remarkable performance as the judge from Joseph N. Welch, who hardly ever acted at all, having been a real-life lawyer. And not just any lawyer - this was the guy who faced down Joseph McCarthy in the Army/McCarthy hearings, and who nailed the Red Baiter for good with "Have you no sense of decency, sir; at long last, have you left no sense of decency?" Cool!)

Fast forward to yesterday evening: again, a gorgeous New York Spring evening. I had some time between work and meeting J.P and the boys at the Riviera for the Sox game (gotta love the Red Sox bar in New York), so I sat in beautiful and blooming Madison Square Park reading a music mag. You know how 'fulfilling' that trip to the record store on Saturday was? Well, remember: this is one of those appetites that increases with feeding. Looking over the reviews, I found myself intensely craving the new Portishead and Roots discs, and reissues from Otis Redding (stereo and mono mixes! plus live material!!) and Carole King. So, you know, just since I had some extra time, and since I was going to the Village anyway, I strolled down to another record store I know. There I found good news for my wallet, but bad news for civilization:



Yep. Disc-O-Rama has bitten the dust. (Please forgive the crappy camera-phone image.) Now, this was not one of those classic music shops. The clerks were snobby and surly - which is to be expected, surely, but it's usually accompanied by some serious taste and/or knowledge. That wasn't the case here. I mean, the guy who owned the place had some game, but he was hardly ever there, and even when he was he never wanted to talk to anybody. And the people who just plain worked there weren't much help either. Still, it was a place I'd gone to since I moved to the city, from way back before easy downloads were possible, even before easy CD burning was possible. They were always good for $10 CDs, even of new releases, even when the giant box stores were in full vigor.

R.I.P.

And let this be a warning to us all - support those local independent record stores!!

*Earth Day and the Pennsylvania Primary were also a warning to us all, people. Damn, I hope you are paying attention out there. Lots of people aren't.

Body Sushi

Ok, I was scanning the interweb for some more information on Aliza Svartz, the Yale student who created a performance art piece that claimed to involve inseminating herself then intentionally inducing miscarriages by eating legal 'abortifacient herbs'. She wasn't really doing any such thing, it turns out. Or maybe she was; she likes to keep the question open. I'll be happy to engage you if you want, but my brief overall take: it was definitely a clever way to stir up some controversy by tweaking a bunch of the right wing's hot buttons: 'those elitist Ivy Leaguers,' 'liberal sluts,' 'wanton abortionists,' 'Godless East Coasters,' not to mention 'performance artists' in general, and successfully provocative - while disingenuously pretending not to be - but I'm not seeing it having done a whole lot to draw attention to real right-to-choice issues. Though maybe I'm wrong; I so often am.

Anway, while I was perusing the world wide grid, I found this little tidbit about Body Sushi, or nyotaimori, in Minneapolis. Yup, that'd be eating sushi using an (almost) naked body as a plate.


My first thought was of some of my peeps in the good ol' Midwest. "Well dang, I'd figure to see that kind of thing in New York or San Francisco (aka Barack Hussein Osama bin Laden Godless Bittertown Radical Feminazi Hippie Food Co-op Homoville), but out here in Minnesota?!" And then I had one of those little "can this be an ok sort of sex positive thing, or do I automatically need to get upset about body objectification and such?" inner monologues. The fact that (unlike in most places where Body Sushi happens, which overwhelmingly favor female models - to the extent that I coudn't find a single male image in my search) this Minneapolis nyotaimori-torium has both men and women as human platters helps me, um, swallow it.


So, whadya think? Most of you would agree that if you want to eat sushi or sardines or ice cream off your spouse's, lover's or roommate's naked bod in the privacy of your home (not that there's any such thing as privacy anymore, but that's another box of wine), that's a right granted you by the deity of your choice. How 'bout spending a bucketload of money to eat raw fish off a well-paid model in a restaurant? (And I personally find it amusing that the establishment in this particular article is called 'Temple') How about the notion of reinforcing racial stereotypes (the exotic sexualized 'otherness' of Japan, and Asia in general)? Is that diluted/assuaged by the fact that the models at Temple appear to be Midwesterners? Just don't try to claim that this is primarily a 'high end dining' experience, not a sexual one, or you'll get laughed out of the discussion.

Just some more stuff to make you go "hmm..."

Happy Patriots' Day

It's a pretty New England-specific thing (and really seems to mean a lot more in Boston than anywhere else) but I think that Patriots' Day deserves a shoutout.



It's most renowned for being the day that the Boston Marathon happens - congratulations to Robert Cheruiot (four's a charm!) and Dire Tune! And it's exciting to Red Sox fans because they play a game that starts in the morning. I'm tapping this out at 1:23, and the Sox are already leading the Rangers 8-0 in the 6th. (You almost have to feel sorry for those poor Rangers. This may be long-term repercussions from when George W. Bush ran the club.) But I think it's also a good reminder that patriotism does NOT mean blind acceptance or following of the government; that America's foundation was built on dissent and rebellion, religious freedom (emphatically not fundamentalism) and independent thought.



At least, that's how I see it.



So, given that, here's a brief excerpt from a pretty rad interview with F. Murray Abraham in today's Gothamist (I encourage you to read the whole thing):



Speaking of casting, weren’t you supposed to be in the current revival of The American Dream and The Sandbox?



I was scheduled to do it with Edward [Albee] but I just simply couldn’t do one more play without making some money. You know, I’m only making about $425 a week here and I have some big expenses. Very big. And I have to make some movie money. I had done three plays in a row and I had to beg off so I could do a movie. He was very understanding and we’re friends but I simply couldn’t. I’m leaving shortly to do another movie; I have to do these movies to support this theater habit.


So you’re an actor with this incredible reputation and a body of work that speaks for itself, here you are in an Off Broadway play with a famous writer and incredible cast, and you’re being paid peanuts. Has the pay scale just gotten worse and worse over the years?



Yeah, it has. It’s just one of those things. But working people across America have been paid less and less over the years. And while that’s happening we have these heads of corporations who are destroying corporations while making billions of dollars. What’s going on? Is this democracy? Something’s wrong here. It’s bullshit, man. It’s got to stop. It’s got to change. I don’t know who or what that change is but we have to do something. I mean, the idea that you believe – as the God I play believes – that you are the only source of truth and integrity and reality, then that gives you the right to torture people and do any damn thing you want because you’re above the law. That’s what the Nazis did; they said it was there divine right. And we’re behaving like Nazis. That’s not America, that’s not the America my two brothers died for in defense of their country. It’s bullshit.



Ain't it, though?

Record Store Day!

Well, it's tomorrow, not today, but I reckoned you could do with some advance notice.

Some of us have had the discussion: is it ok to download/share music? My short answer: yes, IF you keep funneling a commensurate amount of money to musicians/artists, and remember ani difranco's caveat/warning that it's "never as good as the real thing."

One handy excuse to do some of the real thing comes in the form of Record Store Day, tomorrow, 19 April, 2008. Put together by a group of indie record/cd store owners, it's an attempt to shine the light (and rain the bucks) on the nigh-unto-holy tradition of small/independent purveyors of music/life soundtracks to those who pay attention. This day was brought to my attention by this New York Times article, which is pretty good, if, you know, Timesy.

SO - go to your friendly neighborhood music store, grill the guys who work there, and reward them for their efforts. Let the games begin: Clash vs. Sex Pistols; Death Cab... vs. Postal Service; CD vs. Vinyl; invent better games of your own. I'll take a few minutes from what promises to be a GORGEOUS day and visit the Tunes in Hoboken (which for some reason is not officially affiliated with Record Store Day, possibly because they don't have a website. Don't know why they haven't bothered with that, but will still go there tomorrow. After all, it's 'my' record store.) Probably get the new R.E.M. even though those guys are filthy rich and don't need any more of my $, because the record totally fucking rocks. And I'll pick up something by a more deserving/needing-of-the-money artist as well. Maybe Tapes 'n Tapes, who are gigging in Williamsburg tomorrow night. (Hmmm... might we want to catch that gig after our big fat double feature?)


Oh, and by the way: Clash; Postal Service; CD and Vinyl is kind of a wash: Vinyl sounds better WHEN IT'S NEW, but gets all scratchy with time unless you are so careful as not to be practical. LPs are effin heavy, but the big format is way better for cover art - the great underlamented loss of the current era of musical devolution (LPs > CDs > MP3s) Ok, I grant that the intertubes offer some pretty nifty graphic options, but we lost something important when we lost the big ol' record covers.

SO - I present, not a claim for 'the best' cover or anything like that, but a golden example of bitchen album art:

There's the front of this unbelievably brilliant achievement in jazz fusion from one of the best combos ever assembled for that purpose. Don't judge a record by its cover, but I'd say this cover conveys the contents pretty well.

And, so you can see how they worked together in ye olde foldout:

I couldn't find the amazing late 60s soulful revolutionary jazz hipster prose poem liner notes by Ralph Gleason online, but, you know what? Just track down the album (in any format) and read them for yourself: have a look, dim the lights, light the candles, pour the wine and settle on in for the evening.

M.I.A.

And not the Rap Goddess this time. No, this time M.I.A. refers to me, being absent from this forum. And I have no time to fill in the blanks right now either, people, but rest assured that I'll be back. There's plenty to share.

For now, and for no good reason, here's my niece dressed up like a cow.

Hard Rain

Sorry for the big long delay in posting here. I've been up to my ears in Sextangle, which opens tomorrow night. It's been a challenging process, and there are many things I still don't understand about it, but it's showtime, folks! Come see for yourself.

Meanwhile, I feel that it's my duty as an American to share this little tidbit:



Yep, that would be the McCain Girls' response to the Obama Girl. The internets are abuzz with the question of whether this is Republican earnestness or Democratic irony. I don't know that the difference is all that important.

Like the man said:

Whoever you are, wherever you're from
You should have noticed by now our behavior is dumb

Too true.

Improv Everywhere!

By now, you've surely heard of (and probably seen) Improv Everywhere. These are the guys and gals who did the Freeze in Grand Central Station, and other brilliant bits of street theater. They remind me of The Yes Men, but without as much of a political element. They don't really comment on politics, policy, or even "society" at all. Well, except maybe that Starbucks Sleep-In - but that may just be me projecting. (Isn't it interesting, though, that these days simply doing ANYTHING creative in public can seem just a little bit subversive?)

Another thing that separates IE from The Yes Men is that, while Yes Men's projects tended (are they still active? Haven't heard from them in a while) to be very involved and difficult to pull off, most of what IE do is actually pretty simple. While the ideas are really creative, stunningly so, almost anyone could participate in (or create) one of their 'missions,' with just a little bit of organization and discipline.

A singular exception is the following work of Public Art: an impromptu Musical in the food court of a Los Angeles mall. Watch the viddy before reading on.



This isn't your typical IE project. First, they worked with the mall to get permission to do this, which is unique among their performances as far as I know. Next, these people have some skills (not that standing still in Grand Central doesn't involve effort, but it's a world away from singing and dancing). Furthermore, this took, in addition to the always impressive preparation, some serious rehearsal.

Theater fans will notice that the songwriters here are Scott Brown and Anthony King, the guys who wrote Gutenberg! The Musical! which I blogged about with glee a year or so ago. SO much fun!

And the best the Post could do is "Ho No"?

Ok, Sherin and JP and Katie (and about a thousand of their closest friends) went to Albany yesterday for the Family Planning Advocates' action yesterday. Yup. That yesterday. When all that Spitzer business went down. (No pun intended, but now that I see it, I'll leave it there.)

SO the lobbying didn't go exactly as planned, natch. Sherin and I had some very brief and perfunctory communication on the subject, and here's an edited version of an email I sent to Sherin as a result.

Welcome back from your trip. Were you guys able to get anything done? My sense is that everything ground to a complete halt once the newest chapter of Hookergate began. What's your sense on the timing of all this? Not too damaging to RHAPP, I should think, but hardly helpful.

The Spitzer nonsense is just that. I enjoyed reading your Glenn Greenwald link, though part of me kept thinking "Glenn, do you have something against getting real?" It's a nasty Catch 22: the prostitution laws are archaic and stupid, but to say so now seems spiteful and defensive. The War Crimes and Attacks on the Constitution of the current administration are 100 times worse than what Governor Spitzer has done, but to say so now, well, see above and multiply by 2 (why, Why, WHY has the "opposition" party not been willing, eager, compelled to go after those crimes - and yes, I mean prosecute people and throw them in jail CRIMES - all along?? Why did the Democratic Governor of Vermont - real Conservative hotbed, Vermont - say that Impeachment would be a poor use of resources? And of course now Impeachment would seem like electoral politics even if it weren't for Spitzergate. Here's Nat Hentoff on that subject, sort of, and referring to a pamphlet that looks worth reading.) And Greenwald wondering why the 'crime' of prostitution gets so much play: "Why should it be such a big deal? Does every elected official have to resign for any and all lawbreaking? Like jaywalking?" Maybe good sound reasoning (Maybe. And it's very very tough to 'set aside the question of hypocrisy' in this case - God, I get nauseous reading about the gloating on Wall Street), but what world do we live in? The one where people make sense, and make decisions based on good sound reasoning? Or, you know, this world? Where people go absolutely fucking NUTS when someone mentions sex. Where the political sharks sharpen their teeth on the bones of their victims. Which world did Spitzer think he lived in?

Now - the question of what was up with those Federal (!) wiretaps is pretty effing important, and I hope it gets a lot more play than it has so far. Tied in with that, I go back to the timing of it all - relative to your action in Albany, relative to the elections, relative to FISA and the torture bill veto. Gotta say 'hmmm...' a little. Larry Craig (and Jim McGreevy) were big news (though their jobs weren't as high profile), but the timing was so much less conspicuous

[Sherin provided me with this very good Harper's link in response to these last points. No surprises here, but the information is laid out clearly and succinctly]

In other news, things are good. Much on my mind these days, about the show, about the acting career, about the dayjob, about the living situation, about life in general, but it's all good. Well, ok, not all of it is good, I suppose (with the dayjob, for instance, the little shakeup in my division is looking less and less 'little' as each day passes), but on the whole, I'm doing pretty damned well.

So there that is. Happy Tuesday, everybody. Good night and good luck.

Recyclerant

Ok, time for just a wee rant on the way the dayjob handles recycling. Not in any grand industrial fashion (I don't have the info on how that gets handled), just good ol' office-style recylcling: paper, bottles and cans, that sort of thing.

It's pretty much an open secret that the cleaning crew dumps the 'paper recycling' at the desks and the 'all round garbage' into the same bag, which then heads, presumably, to the truck to the barge to the landfill. My fellow cubicle-dwellers bitch about this from time to time, but I'm inclined to do a little finger-pointing of my own here: these same people can't manage to separate the 'garbage' from the bottles and the cans in the kitchen recycling bins (the contents of which, I allow myself to hope, actually find their way to recycling facilities). Came from lunch to see the food bags in which my peeps had got their lunch delivery tossed in the recycle bin (which even required lifting the lid that has the little bottle-sized holes in it.)

One especially self-righteous Greeny is among the offenders, which is extra-special annoying because he has a tendency to go off about how tiny his carbon footprint is (may not be the only tiny thing about him). This is the same guy who is pissed about the company's intention to phase out bottled water in favor of using filtered water from a cooler: "What do they expect us to do? Fill a cup? Then we're wasting cups?!" Um, dude, maybe re-use one of the 14,000 bottles you've gone through already. "Oh, so I'm saving old bottles, that are going to fall apart?" Well, I guess they will fall apart eventually, but... yeah. Maybe even wash them once in a while if you can live with the shame. Or, if they're really too flimsy for you, how 'bout one of those hard plastic Nalg*ne things: we've got those with one of our brand logos on the side, for fuck's sake. "What about when there's a conference? Do we get bottles of water for that? Or are we supposed to have our vendors go into the kitchen and fill up a paper cup?" I guess you're right, bro. Some people are too important to drink water from the same cooler as the rest of us. Sorry to have made you step down from the high horse (that somehow fits in your hybrid car) to have this conversation. Go back to Star*ucks, and whatever you do, don't bring your own mug.

Stupid thing to get upset about? Wouldn't be the first.

Ok - the company pays very good lipservice to environmental concerns, and is of the 'continuous improvement' school. They/we claim to be Greenifying at the industrial level, and maybe it's the case. They/we claim to have safe, fair labor practices, which is certainly true here in the States; I haven't been to the plants in Malaysia to check on them. And yes, yes, alright - I get the irony in the fact that I am perfectly happy to cash the paychecks this job provides. But it drives me a little bit nuts to wonder: if we suck so much at the easy stuff, how can we ever possibly tackle the hard stuff?

See, this is what happens when I am at my desk waaaaay too late on a Friday.

Maybe next week I'll write a few words about some of those 'improvements' that corporate has come up with...

Rehearsing

I'm in rehearsal for Sextangle, going up at the Ha! Comedy Club on West 46th at the end of the month. Yes, it's another link in the chain of movies and shows I've done that sound like they should be pornos: A Pound of Flesh, Suburban Peepshow, Everwood. But this is a mashup of a bunch of styles and archetypes: elements culled from Commedia dell'arte, Shakespeare, Cyrano, Moliere, I Love Lucy and probably a bunch of others wrapped up into what's essentially a farce. Oughta be funny; think about coming to see it.

Don't get your tickets yet, though! (if that's even possible) I'll be getting a discount code soon, which will have the magic ability to save you money while making me money, so wait for that. Wait for it... Wait for it...

Equity members, the jury is still sort of out, but it looks like you'll probably be able to use your cards to get a free pass - there will still be a two-drink minimum, though. Hey, when did a couple drinks ever hurt a comedy?

If you visit that website for the show, be aware that at the time of writing, it's still somewhat under construction. It does, however, feature the image that I'm using for my new headshots. Here it is again, in a larger format:

Flowchart City

Ok here's one for all you process-oriented people out there. Especially those of you in the corporate or programming worlds. Especially if you have some fondness for 1980s pop music.

If this were really part of a coporate report, of course, there would be three pages of appendices to go with the chart.

Thanks to JS for pointing this one out in her endless efforts to amuse.

Acceptance...

...is my word for the day.

As in, acceptance of love, joy, peace, the possibility that Barack Obama actually does represent a genuine social movement, all good things. I accept all this into my life. Today. Now.

Plus, I am sending out good mojo for a particular someone to gain acceptance into the grad school of her choice.

Happy Birthday Lori!

Yes, it's that time of year when my sister gets another year older in one day. All Hail Lori! Who knew you'd turn out, well, kinda cool? Kinda really cool.

Rather than use this space to rant against Star*ucks as I'd planned to yesterday (that will come another day. Oh, I loathe them - please don't ever go there) I will instead devote it to my sister's birthday and a few random tidbits about her.

First, here's a picture of her - a good, straightforward one that she has chosen to use to present herself to the world:

It's small, I know. It's what I've got.

While we're on the subject of pictures, let it be known that she posts tons of photos, mostly of her family, on her blog. That's usually where I steal the images of my niece that I sometimes post here.

Which leads neatly to the subject of that family. That would be a pretty rad accomplishment in itself, wouldn't you say? Odd that I couldn't find a single picture of all 5 of them on her blog since her last birthday. Little help, Lo?

She hung up snowflakes in her house to bring a little holiday winter to Phoenix. This makes me proud because she kind of got the idea from me...

She makes scrapbooks all the time. Like, obsessively. I don't pretend to get it, but that's not my job.

She did a walk for the Susan G. Komen Foundation to raise money for Breast Cancer awareness, research and treatment. Three days worth, including camping. (And I think it's an understatement to say that Lori isn't really the camping type.)

She let her husband go camping with my friends and me when we went to Bonnaroo last summer.

She plays Rock Band on her Wii (oh, she went to great lengths to get a Wii for her kids) She claims that it's the funnest thing since sliced bread to play the fake guitar, and from what I hear from others, she's probably right. Personally, I hope she gets Dance Dance Revolution by the time I visit next.

She has some kind of vendetta against crocs. Again, no clue why, but it's her thing. Doesn't mind when small children wear them, but otherwise they're a problem.

She loves baseball! Hates the Yankees and therefore appreciates the Red Sox. Not the same as being a true fan, but it's close enough!

She reads to her kids.

Well, that's all I have time to put out there for now. Happy Birthday!!!!!! Not much of a present, but I hope you like it.

My other non-present for everyone is the news that I got cast in a show. Details will follow, but for now know that it's happening at the end of March/beginning of April at a theater/comedy club on West 46th Street.

Update:

Lori, Jason and Annie went to Spring Training Opening Day as part of the birthday celebration. Good call! As luck would have it, it was the occasion for the kiddo's first ever carousel ride. Tee hee!

Lunacy

OH - and what about that moon last night??? Amazing, right?

I missed the "peak eclipse moments" because I was in a very late audition (and on the bus home from it), but I like to think that was a good omen for me...

Update

So I've been slacking on the blog a bit. Got a nudge from a friend, so here's a bit of an update:

Saw Die Walkure at the Met a couple weeks ago. Now, loyal readers already know that I have this music geek side to me. And about a year ago I wrote about receiving the gift of Wagner's Ring Cycle on vinyl. Still, I wasn't sure how I'd respond to 5+ hours in a theater with this music.

Silly me. It was awesome (and I do try to avoid Valley Girl-style misuse of that word. I fail sometimes, but I try.) Even a first-time operagoer in my group who had given prior notice that she might bail at one of the intermissions stuck with it and loved this show. Wouldn't be exactly right to say it 'flew by,' but it went faster than I'd have thought it could. I will say that, from our seats waaaay up top at least, that wall of fire that Wotan builds around Brunnhilde didn't look quite so vibrant. Still - fantastic!

I've kept very busy with auditions lately, which has felt good. Also started some music work, which has me excited too. The logistics of life constantly intrude - welcome to the world - but I've been fighting the good fight. Political concerns are on the mind all the time these days. That shouldn't surprise anyone much either.

Couple nights ago saw Patrick Stewart in Macbeth at BAM. Stunning. Not perfect by any stretch, but some choices I hadn't considered, mostly very good acting, and, well, I'll cop to a soft spot for bald actors who really rock the house.

There's Patrick with his Lady M., Kate Fleetwood. Once again I was way up in the rafters, and this time I think it made me miss out on some important stuff. Still: helluva show. The whole run is sold out, so you may want to make really good friends with someone involved with this show, or with BAM, or who already has tickets. And by 'make really good friends,' I of course mean 'have sex with.'

OH - got a great shirt from my sister delivered to the dayjob today! A gray athletic t-shirt with an image of Jesus, halo and all, standing on a cloud with arms outstretched, and beneath Him is the caption: JESUS HATES THE YANKEES. Hehehe. I think that the fact that my sister's husband (who's a bigger baseball fan than I am) is studying to be a Christian minister makes this even funnier. After all, he'd know who Jesus hates, right? In the note she sent with it she wrote: ...And for the Yankee fans you may work with... well, Jesus hates them, too. :-) That's my sis!

Happy Spring Training one and all (even Yankee fans)

Presidents' Day Weekend

Well here's some good stuff to open Presidents' Day Weekend:

To celebrate the return of pitchers and catchers to Spring Training, Keith Olbermann hit one out of the park. Sometimes the synch doesn't work so well, but you'll get the gist.



Bush has stated that history will vindicate him the way it did Abraham Lincoln, that other wartime President who was unpopular in his own era, whose birthday was Tuesday and who gets some of us the day off this Monday. Well, I suppose we'll see. But something tells me that history is more likely to agree with Olbermann's assessment of George II: "You're a Fascist. Get them to print you a t-shirt with 'Fascist' on it."

I know, I know: he's not technically a Fascist exactly. But what he (and, perhaps more to the point, the people who really run his administration) does is so much closer to Fascism than Democracy that I think it's worth mentioning. And while we're on the subject, the fear-mongering Right has been so direct in its divisiveness, so willing and eager to call dissenters unpatriotic, even terrorist collaborators, that I think it may be time to get a little fierce in defense of real freedom. You know, the kind of freedom where the government doesn't get the ok to spy on everyone all the time. And call it 'necessary' to national security. And then to insist upon 'retroactive immunity' for the private companies who help make the intrusion. Semantic circles, people; subterfuge and fear-mongering. In service of a grand marriage of church, state, pharma, insurance, investment and oil.

So Keith wants to call it Fascism? I'll allow it.

I'm just going to leave Congress's baseball business alone for the time being, other than to wonder if it's really the best use of time...

Happy V-Day

Such as it is.

No really big beef with the holiday of systematized 'romance,' but not much of a fan either. This may not surprise you.

Anyway, I have a couple Valentines for y'all: the first is this site, which has all kinds of off-color, totally office-inappropriate faux Valentine E-Cards which in my opinion are perfectly appropriate in their sarcasm and irreverence toward this Day of Commercialized Love. Plus they're, you know, pretty funny.

The next is the news that Pies -n- Thighs (remember that bbq place in Brooklyn that I wrote about last year?) which had closed for a while, is re-opening in a bigger, and arguably more convenient, complete with liquor license. Will this bode well or ill for this erstwhile off-the-beaten-path treasure? Guess we'll find out come summer. In any case, this is seriously good news! Thanks to KZ for the 411 on this.

And then one little coincidence: on my commute, I rocked the iPod random action and the first track that played this morning was called 'A Valentine out of Season.' Neither here nor there, but I thought it was a quirk worth mentioning.

Happy smooching, you that smooch.

Simpsons Madness

No secret that I have what might justly be called an unnatural appreciation for all things Simpson.

Given that caveat, I think fans and non-fans alike will find a way to appreciate this:



Guitar tapping is way cool.

Super Duper Pooper Scooper Tuesday

Happy Mardi Gras, everybody! And big ol' primary election day, Giants victory parade day and everything else!!

In honor of the event, let's bring back the Magic 8Pod.

SO, 8Pod, what do you have to say about Mardi Gras '008?

• Bongwater - The Living End

Well, hmm... The band connotes party time, sure enough. And there's an odd twist on the times and the area in it's faux end-time sensibility. "We're living in the last days..." Interesting choice.

Ok, next, what can you provide in the way of predictions for this 'Super Duper Tuesday' Presidential Primary?

- for the Republican Party

• Greg Brown - Moondance

How 'bout that? At first it doesn't seem to fit: a great Van Morrison song being sung by Mr. Superlow Mellow Voice Strong Sensitive Folky Guy? For the Republicans?? But I guess it does bring to mind all those College Republican drunken singalongs to 'Brown-Eyed Girl'. And then a deeper listen takes us to a lonesome longing in the guitar-and-bongo arrangement, and maybe even some desperation in "Can I just have one more moondance with you...?" Last moondream? Plus... there's that whole thing of taking cover 'neath October skies...

Let's not forget that there's a half decent chance that we'll know who the Republican nominee is going to be at this time tomorrow.

- for the Democratic Party (which, by the way, is not "The Democrat Party" in spite of what many conservative pundits and officials - including the President - have been calling it, oh, for a few years now. Is no one else bothered by this? Is it another one of those thing that the Dems don't complain/stand up about for fear of seeming whiney?)

• Fleetwood Mac - Butter Cookie (Keep Me There)

This one yields all kinds of fun interpretation for a good 8Pod diviner! First of all, it's an outtake from Rumours, the album which yielded "Don't Stop," which was Bill Clinton's theme song - and it's even sung by the female vocal half of that song, Christine McVie. That's right folks, an outtake, a demo version, just piano and drums and voice. And then, there are the lyrics: in spite of the subtitle (Keep Me There) the sparce lyrics say "Don't leave me in the dark, I need you here with me... Don't leave me in this mess."

Don't know if this helps us draw a conclusion, though: does it mean Hillary will pick up the mantle? Or will she be left alone in the dark? Perhaps this is a good place to point out that the Dems divvy up their delegates by percentage in a lot of today's states - meaning that it is pretty UNlikely that we'll know who the Democratic candidate is going to be in time for Ash Wednesday Mass.

Lastly - what do you have to say about the Giant Superbowl victory and ticker tape extravaganza?

• Los Lobos - Somewhere in Time

Huh. This actually moves me a little.

I'm not a Giants fan. Not really a football fan in general, but definitely not a Giants fan or a fan of New York sports in general (Mets excepted). In fact, I refer you to a hilarious video on YouTube showing a clip from Downfall with Bruno Ganz as Hitler, but with made-up captions making it look as though they're talking about football rather than military action. I'm not putting up the link or the viddy, because it is utterly inappropriate and offensive in the way that only parodies of Hitler can be, but you can easily find it by searching "Hitler Cowboys Football" on YouTube. And it's pee-your-pants funny.

However, this song sheds light on the parade for me much more than on the victory. Reminds me how good it feels to know that throngs of people can use the Wall Street area way downtown as a place of celebration again. Certainly couldn't have been a parade there if the Yanks had won in 2001. And it does seem like last year had a big move forward in terms of being able to speak reasonably about that chunk of land, so this championship might even have been one of the first chances New York had to celebrate a victory down there.

So ok, maybe it's maudlin, sentimental and bittersweet to hear it that way. But here are the lyrics to the song, by David Hidalgo, Louie Perez and Dave Alvin.

I hear a voice singing somewhere in time
A song I knew so long ago
It takes me back to places somewhere in time
To everyone I used to know

I see a face I remember somewhere in time
Someone I love who's gone away
Gone away somewhere in time
one away somewhere in time

Another night, on a highway somewhere in time
Darkness plays those tricks on me
Far down the road in the shadows somewhere in time
Am I the man I'm supposed to be?

I see a light, shining somewhere in time
A lonely light to lead me on
To lead me on somewhere in time
To lead me on somewhere in time

Wake from a dream, a dream from somewhere in time
I rub my eyes so I can see
You're standing there before me somewhere in time
Standing there waiting for me

And I'll take your hand someday somewhere in time
Forever I'll be here with youI'll be with you somewhere in time
I'll be with you somewhere in time
I'm here with you somewhere in time

Oh, and...

Lupe Fiasco = Brilliant

Outer Borough City

Today (well, yesterday at this point) was all about Brooklyn. After easing into the day after a late long night with coffee a big breakfast of roast beef, potatoes and eggs, I went out to the BAM Harvey Theater for Beckett's Happy Days, directed by Deborah Warner, starring Fiona Shaw. Holy shit. Not many shows live up to the kind of hype that this show got from the press, but I'm happy to say that this one did. "Happy" doesn't really cut it, in spite of the title - it's something beyond happy, something closer to "ecstatic", because the show was transcendent. Really. One of the greatest writers in the history of the language at the height of his powers, interpreted by one of the great actors of our time in a collaboration with a director that appears to be as solid as there is out there (The Waste Land, Medea, and now this - good as gold, y'all). Funny, poignant, brilliant... transcendent. Wish I could say the show "is" transcendent, but unfortunately it closes today, so unless you're coincidentally prepared or really motivated (and don't care about the Superbowl at all), well... she'll be back with another show one of these days.



Afterwards I went to a little tiny restaurant called Pequena, aptly enough. Really delicious fish tacos and rice & beans; righteous peeps working the floor; perfectly adequate margarita; fun place - you should go.

Then I took a walk through Ft. Greene and Clinton Hill in the crisp chilly evening. Ended up at Tillie's, a rad little coffee shop - kinda crowded at first: had to share a table with a grumpy-ish guy for a while, but it mellowed out before long, and I spent a good hour or so there. No web site for this place as far as I know, but they played the first Clash album, so that should count for something.

Next it was over to the BAM main space for the Brooklyn Philharmonic performing John Corigliano's Pied Piper Fantasy with some world premier staging, and Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique. Excellent. Not thrilled with the way they handled the post-concert talkback/new composers' concert in the Cafe - they failed utterly even to try to make it clear to us that the Cafe concert was apt to fill up and that the one way to guarantee NOT getting in was to hang around for the Q & A. Super annoying. So not only downtown venues participate in this kind of behavior. Still, good performances of two good pieces.

All hail Brooklyn. Again.

Sports and Politics

They kind of seem like too much of the same thing right about now, don't they?

Well, leaving aside the bizarre non-joke from the people at NOW NY, which I can't even comment on because my mind is still too scrambled (plus, having a penis, what right do I have to join in that conversation? I'm going to throw up.) we now have the chance to wonder what effect Florida will have on the Primaries in general. Looks like Giuliani is out (whew!), as is Edwards (sigh). The Republicans are letting the winner-take-all contest ride, but the Democrats are punishing the Sunshiners for moving up their contest by disallowing the delegates. Hmm... think they'll hold to that? If it's close come Convention time, will the Machine reverse its decision and let Florida's and Michigan's (both won by Clinton) votes count after all? Wagers?

Meanwhile, the Packers. SIGH... Bret, Bret, Bret... What happened, man? Where was the fire? Where was the passion? Where was that guy who was ready to go out on top in a blaze of glory?? God was on your side (4 below, dude!) and the Giants did everything they could to lose.

So, ok, go Patriots. No exclamation point, though. My Boston loyalties outweigh any Green Bay resentment. Gonna turn some of that leftover roast into chili; so that's something to look forward to, anyway.

Kinda tired of hearing about how hot Tom Brady and his girlfriend are though...

Best... Photo... Ever!

This one I am shamelessly stealing from my sister's blog. I've done it before, I'll probably do it again. This time, I'll even let you in on what she wrote:

As most two-year-olds, Anna is very independent. Headstrong. Strong-willed. Stubborn. Two. Often times, it's funny. Watching her try to do things she just can't quite do yet can be amusing.

Here's an example:

Lori calls the entry 'determination,' which is pretty apt if you ask me. I mean Anna can almost get that bottle open...

So, thanks sis for the image. And while I may be the worst blogger ever, at least I can share this kind of thing once in a while.

I did it...

And I feel dirty about it.

Something I've thought about for years, and never had the heart to try.

Risking damnation by association with the rotten underbelly of society, for the sake of... what? participation in a kinky ritual, far past its social validity or usefulness? a voice in the wilderness?

But... I did it.

I registered with a political party so I can vote in the closed primary on Super Duper Pooper Scooper Tuesday.

Now I feel like I need a shower.

Crazy '08s

There is so much to write about! Shows I've seen, things I've been doing, reading, listening to, etc., the Writers' strike (why is no one talking about boycotting Leno, O'Brien, Stewart or Colbert? Need to look at that...), the caucuses and primaries and on and on.

But I'm wracked with busy-ness. Wracked, I tells ye, wracked!

So it will have to wait a while. Still, know that I'm happy, healthy and loving life.

Congrats to the people who jumped into the word game. (it was a hit at Daniel's birthday party last weekend, too!) Anyone else wanting in (who didn't already cheat and look it up on the interweb) lemme know.

Posters

I'm guessing you're all thinking about Iowa fairly exclusively in terms of the Caucus, aren't you? Check out this poster from Sioux City past:


Pretty rad, huh? Nice to see the Feds take an interest in the local camera club.

What about this one?



Interesting in light of recent events in Vieques, no?



Or this one, from when Penicillin was new:






I really like this stuff! They're all from a great website from the Library of Congress about WPA posters from 1936-43. Cool on a whole bunch of levels. Thanks to maven haven for drawing my attention to it.

The design elements are fascinating, as are the reminders of how things change. And how they don't. New Deal, eh? Make you think of anything?

So with that, I'll leave you with a graphic reminder of the theory that loose lips sink ships...

Words, Words, Words

One word I have been especially fond of lately is 'reckon.' Which usually elicits a laugh whether I want it to or not. A perfectly useful and noble term, featured prominently in tomes as lofty as the Bible (as in "Day of Reckoning"), it now seems always to connote a cowboy or a hillbilly, junegrass in teeth, lazily supposing sum'n or other. All I'm saying is: it's a word to be reckoned with.

Which brings me to a somewhat fun party game from NYE, courtesy one of the guest's 8 year-old nephew: What do you think is the word with the most definitions in the English language? Don't cheat, now! I'll give you a hint: the Oxford English Dictionary has well over 300 definitions for this word; dictionary.com has over 100.

Good things in '008

The Buffalo Tom gig was great - good band, good club, good friends, excellent way to spend an evening. Missed most of the opening bands because we were at an Irish pub watching the Patriots seal their undefeated season (in spite of the best efforts of the Giants.) Sometimes I wish I cared more about football. But not often.

Next night we hit Gloucester for a delicious seafood dinner with one of our old friends who now lives in Seattle. (I've said it before and I'll say it again - the Northwest is calling me. May have to contrive a trip out there sometime in the new year. Also, Iceland is calling me. Which is somewhat... unexpected.) Mmm... lobsters and clams... And magnificent to see Amy.

Held of until yesterday to swing out to Williamstown because of snow in Massachusetts. Helped the hosts prep and decorate, and had a fabulous New Years Eve party with them. This was part of the T-Day crowd and several of their Western Mass. contingent, including peeps from Mass MoCA, Williams College, Bang on a Can, Williamstown Theater Fest., and Jacob's Pillow. Leg of lamb, veggie lasagna, au gratin potatoes (see below re. potatoes), lemon tarts, cheese and jalapeno biscuits, corn bread, ginger bread, sardines, baked brie, salad, on and on. Plus Champagne, beer, wine, egg nog, and a punch that packed a serious punch, thanks to 'overproof' rum. Whoa. Great party - thanks, once again, to great friends

Straight up - there were some pretty hard things about '007 for me. Which isn't to say there weren't plenty of great times and fantastic events, and I'm grateful for them all. At the same time, I'm ready to shift gears. Looking forward to some wonderful developments in 2008.

And I've got some ideas of things to do to make that happen; but mostly, I'm just in a kind of state of readiness for things to open up. For lack of a better way to put it.

Plus: it's the Year of the Potato - which is all kinds of exciting! Think of the possibilities...

New England New Year

Very quick, as I'm in the midst of one of those whirlwind trips through Massachusetts. I'm in Waltham now with Sue and Steve, fighting off a cold and getting ready to go visit Beckett, then into Boston/Cambridge for some grub, the Patriots game (S & S are fans, and it's the big final game of what has potential to be the first undefeated season since '72) and a show by Buffalo Tom at TT the Bear's Place. All of which should be fantastic.

Tomorrow I get to see Seattle Amy, whom I almost never get to see. And either tomorrow or Monday it's off to Williamstown for a New Year's party courtesy Sue and Kevin (all these Sues - it gets confusing, I know).

Happy New Year's Weekend, everybody.

kind of blue

Sometimes, Miles, John, Cannonball, Wynton and Paul are the only ones who can say anything worth listening to.

uptown/downtown

The argument over whether uptown or downtown yields better art/entertainment is essentially a pretty boring one: uptown art is reputedly commercial, and crassly so, whereas downtown art is presumed to be edgy and authentic. Or: uptown art is professional, highly skilled and attentive to its audience while the downtown variety is shabby, amateurish and self-absorbed.

As it happens, the cliches are true sometimes, but not all the time (shocking!), and that both good and bad stuff happens in both areas, uptown and downtown having as much to do with attitude as geography, especially since much of what used to be 'downtown' Manhattan has all-but-utterly commercialized and much of the exciting new work is being done in the outer boroughs and (gasp!) New Jersey. Yes, there has always been a bunch of crap happening on Broadway, trite, thoughtless pablum aimed at the lowest imaginable common denominator; but there are also fantastic productions put on by true artists, brilliant playwrights and some of the best acting in the English speaking world. And the downtown scene is full of posers who create intentionally oblique nonsense and couldn't put two coherent thoughts together on a bet; but it also provides some of the most adventurous, exciting and vital work I've ever seen. My personal pet peeves from working in the worlds of conventional and experimental theater extend to the stick-up-the-ass cowardice of some of the decision-makers in the more commercial environments, and the crazy disorganization and overwhelming disregard for people's time in the fringy stuff (ok, ok - maybe an inflated sense of respect for scheduling does smack of the patriarchal, but that whole thing about never starting rehearsal on time gets old. Really.)

This all returns us to the shows I started writing about last week. Rock 'n' Roll was one more example of Tom Stoppard bringing it all back home with a team of top-notch artists at the top of their game. The central trio of Rufus Sewell, Brian Cox and Sinead Cusack are impressive in a way you just don't get to see very often. Damn Brits.

And the play itself is one of those shows that you walk away from smarter than when you walked in that night. Don't know much about the history of Communism in Czechoslovakia? You will. Unclear about the progression of British intellectual thought on the subject of the Party before and after the '68 invasion? Serving of mental Windex, live on stage. Wait a minute, wait a minute: you think those subjects might be boring? The use of rock and pop music to tie the scenes to the culture of the time and place isn't sugar to help it go down; it's a dramatic framework that makes an essential connection between popular expression and political environment. The fact that it's an irresistible musical element is a pretty bitchen bonus though.

Couple quick questions: might the show have benefited from some more truly underground or radical music? Not to take anything away from the Stones, Dylan or Pink Floyd, but I'm guessing there were more radical/less 'classic rock' musical forces at play in Prague, as there surely were in London. The Velvet Underground is a little closer to a counter-cultural phenomenon, and The Plastic People of the Universe certainly fit the bill. Maybe it wouldn't have been worth the time to introduce bands that would have required explanation, but I wonder if this uptown play could have used some more downtown sounds to illustrate its points. And where was the Zappa?! Not only was he important to the London scene, and absolutely integral to the Czech scene, his music spurred the very name of The Plastic People of the Universe, and, with the Velvets, was their most important influence both musically and theatrically. He was barely mentioned in the show, and not one note of his music was used. Why not?

And the mention of that musical artist who below-the-belted his way to a permanent spot in the fringe pantheon brings me back to The Nutcracker: Rated R. What a fun show! Not polished to a shiny gleam, the rough edges were part of the point, kinda like the sharp edge of a broken bottle. The fantasy of a bourgeois girl in this version of the Tchaikovsky ballet takes a turn through pre-Giuliani (and mostly pre-Dinkins) New York of the 80s (or at least someone's version of the 80s). Some creative variations on the music were employed, and the dancing had raw energy that got through to the packed audience.

There was a nasty line in the cold for the box office, in spite of our having bought tix in advance online, that I'd have liked to avoid (ah, the downside of downtown). But I digress. The show was worth the wait, however aggravating. Good primal energy in service of good arty entertainment. The sexuality could have gone farther without crossing any dangerous line (and this show sort of tempts one to cross dangerous lines - at the very least, it advertises itself as 'R-rated' ) but they delved into different dance forms and style choices with exuberant abandon, and made living contact with the audience that, well, that you don't always get.
Not so sure about the pat anti-drug message-y kind of resolution. (Did you know that coke can give you a sense of euphoria and energy to party all night? But that then it might kill you? I know, so did everyone else.) But they had to end it one way or another, and those after-school specials were part of the 80s too. There were some sound problems early on in the performance I saw, which caused the company to stop for repairs and start over, but I actually think the way they handled it was pretty perfect, and if anything juiced the dancers up to give a little extra on this cold and rainy matinee day. Way to have a show ready to weather any storm. Good luck bringing it back next year!

Formatting

For some reason the photo at the header of my blog is now cut off in a very odd way. Anyone know why? I've played with the layout, and haven't been able to find the way to restore it.

Harrumph!

English anyone?

Well, this is the kind of thing I could do a lot more than I do, but it seems borderline unkind...
Today however, the dayjob is sufficiently annoying and crazed, that I will indulge the smug snotty side of myself and share with you a comment included in an email having to do with sales at a particular retail outlet:

They stores we extremely!

This was written by a native English speaker with (I think) a college degree. Even in the world of texting and e-speak, I really can't figure what she is trying to say.

Tee hee!

Weekend Update

After the highs of last week's concerts (which included the two I've already written about, plus a choir concert last Sunday and another YLT show on Monday) came some various lows, but also some more sustained highs with Tom Stoppard's Rock 'n' Roll, Aaron Sorkin's The Farnsworth Invention, and Angela Harriel's The Nutcracker: Rated R. Three very different pieces of performance, two On Broadway, one waaaaay Off, each with its pros and cons, but each also with an important spark of life. I'll try to put in more specific thoughts about these sometime soon; that will depend on, well... a bunch of things.

Besides that, I got to go to a really rad party in Dumbo, hosted by a designer I know and a couple people (another designer and an architect, I think) who share a studio with him. It was a good group of people, including some famous and semi-famous personalities, got to meet some interesting folks and I got to see a friend I don't get to see often enough, so that was bitchen. And I got to some other friends' Christmas Carol in Manhattan too. Oh - and some really good Ethiopian food at a place in Hell's Kitchen called Meskerem. Yum!

'Tis most definitely the season.

President Yo La Tengo

Ok, without wanting to go too deep into nose-rubbing territory, I'd like to rewrite for your amusement a missive I sent some friends up in Boston, regarding one of the best shows I've seen in a long time, courtesy of Hoboken's own...

First of all, let me just say that when I offer you guys tickets to a yo show in the 'boken, don't say no. Especially if it's one of the Hanukkah shows! Unless your own band is booked to play the Garden, you are performing on Broadway, or you're getting married that night, change what plans you have and get your ass over to Jersey. It is so worth it I can barely put it into words...

The opening band on Saturday, Dew Claw, was maybe a little on the 'eh' side, but it was still pretty neat that they featured the original YLT bass player, and also the guy who currently does many of the graphics for Tengo's t-shirts and such. And their own shirts-for-sale were designed by that guy's 9-year old daughter. Which is nice. Plus, they wore flannel pyjamas on stage.

Sarah Vowell was the evening's comedy act, and she was superfun indeed; I have to say, though, she was upstaged by Amy Poehler, who came on in the guise of Ira's Aunt Judith to tell us all about the Kabbalah in the light of a broken Menorah.

The set was amazing. Started in mellow, moody mode. I mean, very very good, just chill. Until... they did 'Mr. Tough', which not only completely rocked, but kick-started the rest of the set, which from then on was a non-stop mess-you-up powerhouse. Included a completely incendiary 'Big Day Coming,' (the raucus 'reprise' vesion, of course) and an orgasmic 'Story of Yo La Tengo.'

And then for the encore, out came Alex Chilton. Yup. Among other songs, they did: Hey! Little Child, the Modern Lovers' Government Center, Velvet Underground's Femme Fatale. I am not even kidding.

This was the kind of show that reminds you why you like music.

And I haven't even mentioned last night's show yet... :-)

Hopefully I can get some photos of that gig from Sherin for the next entry. Whew. My ears are ringing in all the right ways.

Friday

Friday I saw a play on the East Side. It was very good; in many ways one of the best new plays I've seen in a while. Interesting ideas, well acted for the most part, well staged and lit, costumes were good, if a bit obvious. But I don't want to write much about it, because there were a couple bad holes that really weakened the whole thing in the last quarter, and I don't like talking shit about my peeps in the theater in a public forum if I can help it.

Afterwards, Beth and I walked down Fifth Avenue through Tourist Christmasland. We didn't do the windowgaze routine full out, but we did check out Bergdorf and Cartier and the star at the intersection of 57th. Gaudily spectacular, natch. And, of course, since we were there, we looked at the tree at Rockefeller (so purple this year!) and passed by the skating rink.

Finally we ended up at what may be my new regular bar on the West Side. I'm definitely not going to write about that, because I don't want it getting around. So many of the great down-to-earth bars are gone now (McHale's, Dave's, Collins) or changed irremediably (McCoy's, Film Center) - when you discover one, or a new one pops up, you have to preserve it.

So then, this entry would be me almost writing about what I did the other night. Oy.

Delusion of the Fury

Holy crap, so much has been going on since the last time I wrote here! Most of it really really good, nigh unto great.

On Thursday, I went with E-beth to see and hear Harry Partch's Delusion of the Fury. Extraordinary, and almost a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Partch wrote this in I think 1967, it was performed - once - in 1969, and had never been performed since. Until last week, when Dean Drummond's Newband ensemble joined forces with stage director John Jesurun, choreographer Dawn Akemi Saito and a solid group of performers to stage it at the Japan Society. Really fascinating stuff - a musical introduction followed by Act 1, which was drawn from/inspired by a Japanese Noh Drama; then a musical interlude, followed by Act 2, which came from an African comic story.

One of the main reasons that this piece is done so rarely (read - pretty much never) is that it depends on specific instruments of Partch's invention, like these here 'Cloud Chamber Bowls'.

Parch composed in microtones, which you can sort of think of as the 'notes between the notes.' These tend not to exist in Western music, and most Western instruments can't play them (at least not very well). This didn't slow down Harry Partch though - he just invented a bunch of totally rad and innovative instruments that look like they've been pulled from Dr. Seuss stories via a mad scientist's laboratory.

This little guy, for instance, depends on liquor bottles to make its music:

Specific liquor bottles, no less. It's called a Zymo-Xyl, and when Partch was playing around with it in the early stages, he discovered that each brand of whiskey, gin, vodka, etc. has its own specific tone (some of which fall into the microtone category) So ultimately, the specs called for certain empty booze bottles to go in each slot: Tanqueray here, Bacardi there, that kind of thing.

So you need these instruments to do this music, and as far as I know, each and every one is one-of-a-kind. And most of them are big, and i suspect rather fragile, so a bunch of traveling isn't apt to happen. Result: you get to see his music, when at all, in small doses at the Partch Institute in Montclair, New Jersey. The large-scale works, you don't get to see at all.

Except for last week!

I admit, when I was told about this show, I was suspicious, especially since it was a pretty expensive ticket. The whole "Yeah, this looks fun on paper, but am I going to get there and yawn through the whole thing? 'Cause I don't want to be spending my bucks on that for the sake of doing something 'arty' just because it's rare."

But E-Beth talked me into it, and let me tell you, people - I didn't yawn. It was by turns fascinating and exciting and moving and funny. Really really fun. Plus, you know, so far it happens one time in every two generations.

As I see it, this is one of the reasons we live in New York.

The Return of Magic 8Pod

What do you foresee for the GRE for Sherin?

Happy Days - McCoy Tyner Trio. Well, gee Sherin, you can't
ask for much better than that. :-)

How about the Yo La Tengo show on Saturday?

Jack-a-Roe - Bob Dylan. Hmmm... this one's trickier. An old English folk balad, it sounds dark and moody, but it ends with triumph over great adversity. Good portent for a benefit concert, I'd say. And - the verse tacked onto the end of the story is amusinglyhopeful.

This couple they got married, so well they did agree
This couple they got married, so why not you and me
Oh, so why not you and me ?

Hehehe.

"Debate"

Seems likely that we'll be having some more discussions of politics here from time to time as the '008 U.S. Presidential Election gets nearer.

For the moment, have a look at this viddy dramatizing the 'fairness' of the medium-early Democratic debates. It's more effective if you watch the whole thing (takes about 2 & 1/2 minutes)


Brings to mind George Orwell, no? "All animals are created equal. But some animals are more equal than others."

Yeah, there's more to come on the issue of the 'liberal media' too...

Let it Snow!

Woke up after a blissful sleep in (those are pretty rare these days) to find a snowy Sunday out my window. It's been an up-and-down weekend: Friday was dinner with a Pete, of whom I've seen precious little for too long, followed by drinks with him and Rashmi, followed by the Jazz and Jewels gig benefitting Planned Parenthood with bunches of people - way to go Sherin, Jacqueline, Beth and Michelle!! - followed by more drinks at one of my new favorite bars in the Village. It was one of those evenings that devolved from French Wine to Irish Whiskey to Belgian Beer to a long walk home, thankfully impervious to the cold. So, yeah, yesterday I was moving predictably slowly, but did manage to motivate for dinner with some theater friends I also hadn't seen for a long while, and then pulled off that unlikeliest of feats: the last minute movie date with friends. On a Saturday? In New York?? Unheard of! But there it was - Susan and Daniel live around the corner from where I was, and they didn't have firm plans, so we went to see Michael Clayton. Really good film, guys - catch it before it leaves the theaters if you can. Then went home and watched the second half of Dig! which is the movie about the parallel stories of the bands The Brian Jonestown Massacre and The Dandy Warhols. If you have any interest in them, or in recent indie rock at all, you'll want to check that out too. Those crazy rock-n-rollers! Got to bed late-ish, but not unreasonably so, and woke up to the Winter Wonderland.

So this morning I went downtown in the season's first proper snowfall to get bagels and other foodstuffs, and have been just hanging around my place with the Sunday New York Times, having coffee and noshing, listening to excellent holiday music and chatting with people on the phone. No laundry will be getting done by me this weekend (unless I blow off that dinner in the East Village, but who wants to be rude?) but it's been nice just having some semi-snowbound solitude. Plus it was a reminder that I should get the actual, physical Sunday Times more often; been too slack on that for too long. Otherwise, I would have missed the article about the Hello Kitty Vibrator. I'm sorry, I mean "shoulder massager." Yeah, it's there in the online version, but no way would I have seen it. And that would have just been a shame. Oh, my!