| Monday, March 26, 2007 |
| Too old to rock |
Look, we've had some great times over the past 20 years, but I think it's time to say goodbye. I'll never forget all those nights we spent together...
There was the first time I saw U2, playing in a church (this is when they were still considered a "Christian rock band") to an audience of maybe 300-400 people. The first time I saw R.E.M., and got to meet Michael Stipe and Peter Buck after the show. There were the headliners I never expected to like but did, like Huey Lewis and Billy Idol -- fantastic performers. The classics: Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young, the Rolling Stones. The ones I feel especially lucky to have witnessed: Husker Du, pre-break-up Wire, ABBA, Robyn Hitchcock & the Egyptians, Roxy Music, multiple Pavement and Pixies shows, Elliott Smith, the Sugarcubes.
Then there were the not-so-good times: the Jesus and Mary Chain, playing a 20-minute headlining set with their backs to the audience. A Go Sailor show at some dive bar in Baltimore which was so smoky I swore just breathing the air in there was taking years off my life. The Replacements, drunk and incoherent. The Iggy Pop show where someone threw up on my shoes.
As I get older, I find I'm enjoying going out to hear live rock music less and less. At the last couple Noise Pop shows I attended, Rogue Wave and Ted Leo, I had old-fogeyette moments where I wanted to go up to the young kids who couldn't stop text messaging and looking at their annoyingly bright cell phone screens during the shows and yell, "KNOCK IT OFF!" Staying out late is a lot harder than it used to be when I was younger; I've already given up going to clubs like Bottom of the Hill where the headliners don't go on until midnight.
I'll make certain exceptions -- my pals Mitch & Shalini are playing at the Rickshaw Stop on Thursday, and I'm looking forward to that. But pretty much anyone else... eh, I'll stay home and listen to the CDs.
Joe feels differently -- he recently bought a ticket to see the Genesis reunion tour. It cost $150, and it wasn't even the most expensive one available.
In a way, I think the best rock show I ever saw in my life was the very first: San Francisco band the Tubes, playing at the Grand Rapids Civic Auditorium sometime in the early 1980s. The Tubes were a highly theatrical rock band who changed costumes multiple times and portrayed characters like Quay Lewd, a drugged-out glam rocker in platform shoes. I honestly thought that was what rock shows were like, and was disappointed when I learned that most people just get onstage in their street clothes and play songs. |
posted by 125records @ 12:13 PM  |
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| Wednesday, March 21, 2007 |
| Dog chow |
A little while ago, our dog, Hobie, started having some -- how do I say this delicately? -- rather unpleasant issues involving elimination. What's more, he often seemed uninterested in eating his food. For as long as we'd had him, we'd been feeding him an ultra-premium brand of dry dog food called Wysong that his "foster mom" -- the dog rescue person from whom we adopted him -- had recommended. Wysong is no supermarket brand; there are only a couple of pet food stores in the area that carry it. It's so packed with vitamins and minerals and omega 3 fatty acids and enzymes that I figured Hobie was probably eating a more nutritious diet than we were. But the fact that mealtime no longer seemed to be a highlight of his day worried me. Plus, he seemed rather lethargic. When I took him to the vet, he'd lost a little over three pounds, which is no small matter for a dog that only weighed about 21 pounds at his peak.
The vet gave us some antibiotics, ran some tests, and said to put Hobie on a bland diet of chicken and rice. After a few days of cooking for him (I don't even like to cook for myself), I stopped by the pet food store to see if there were any prepared chicken and rice options. After getting the vet's okay, I started feeding him Canidae canned food. Again, this is a super-exclusive brand -- "human quality meat," according to the web site. Yum! (At least it doesn't say "quality human meat," 'cause that would be gross.)
To say that Hobie enjoys the Canidae would be an understatement. After the tests confirmed that his insides were normal and he had finished two courses of antibiotics, I started giving him a 50-50 mix of dry and canned foods. Now I feel guilty for having restricted him to kibble for all these years. I have never seen a more enthusiastic dog. He may be around 11 years old, but he has the energy of a puppy. Unfortunately, this has been manifesting itself earlier and earlier in the morning. It used to be that given the opportunity, Hobie would often sleep in 'til 9 or 10 AM; now we no longer need to worry about setting the alarm on weekdays, because he wakes us up. I take him out, he does his business quickly, and then rushes back inside, because it's time for food! He bounds around the kitchen as I hurriedly put the kibble in his dish and top it with a couple spoonfuls of chicken and rice. After I put it down, he usually finishes it in 60 seconds or less. He is not a decorous eater.
In the late afternoon, once the sun begins to set and dinner time approaches, he goes out into the hallway and waits until I get up from the computer to feed him. In a somewhat futile effort to try and control his morning awakening, we decided to feed him on a strict schedule: breakfast at 8:15 AM, dinner at 7:15 PM. Today, I sat on the couch reading the newspaper as I waited for the appointed hour to arrive; he was practically vibrating like a tuning fork until I went to the kitchen at last. (Actually, it was more like 8:20 today. Hey, a girl's got to finish the Jumble.)
So essentially, I am once again the owner of a healthy, happy dog, but my sleep has been severely cut back as a result. The jingle of his collar tags in the morning has turned into an ominous sound. As for Hobie, he's still getting his 16 or so hours of sleep a day; once he's licked his bowl clean, he settles down and enjoys a long, long nap.
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| posted by 125records @ 9:51 PM |
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| Tuesday, March 20, 2007 |
| To sleep, perchance to dream |
I really like my mattress. When I return from vacations, I always flop down on the bed and feel happy to be home, because I no longer have to sleep on unfamiliar surfaces. The mattress is just firm enough; last week, I bought a new mattress pad for it, and now it's even comfier. Sometimes I suffer from insomnia, but it's not the fault of the bed -- just my unquiet mind.
I didn't choose the mattress -- it was a hand-me-down from Joe's dad when he moved. It's probably at least 12 years old; I'm not sure. I had never given any thought to how much it would cost to replace it, if it ever came to that, but after a check of mattress.com, I'm guessing around $800.
Why have I been thinking about mattresses lately? Because of an item in the paper a few days ago about a mattress billed as the world's priciest -- the Vividus. It costs a whopping $50,000 (an introductory rate -- it goes up to $59,750 next month, so hurry!), and according to the manufacturer, "is built by hand by the most experienced and skilful craftsmen using techniques that have been employed in the Swedish furniture industry since the 1850s." The bed "holds your body and provides perfect support which allows relaxing in a way you did not think was possible."
"If you could have beautiful, incredible sleep, what's that worth?" said David Perry, bedding editor of the trade publication Furniture/Today, quoted in the Associated Press news story. "The whole idea is pamper yourself, you're worth it, go for it, live the dream, sleep on a cloud. That has some appeal."
I don't believe in skimping on beds and bedding -- you spend a good third of your life in bed, so it should be as comfortable as possible. But $50,000? Would my sleep be 60 times better on a Vividus than it is on the $800 Serta? The only way I could justify spending that much on a mattress is if I could be guaranteed that I would sleep so well, I would dream up all kinds of ideas for hugely successful businesses, and the $50,000 would be repaid many times over. |
| posted by 125records @ 12:43 PM |
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| Thursday, March 15, 2007 |
| Look out! |
I'm usually a sucker for a twist ending. If a movie or book is promoted with some form of, "You won't BELIEVE what happens!," I'm there. I rushed out to see films like "Million Dollar Baby" and "The Crying Game" before the spoilers became common knowledge. My dad did me a huge favor by renting "Psycho" when I was a kid so I could have the experience of watching it without knowing Norman Bates' secret. Unfortunately, I read a review of the ultimate twist-a-rama of the last decade, "The Sixth Sense," that gave away the ending; when I finally saw the film, I found it to be a plodding bore. Was there anything to that movie besides the twist?
There are no twists in "The Lookout," the debut directorial effort by Scott Frank, who has won acclaim for his screenplays ("Out of Sight," "Minority Report," "Get Shorty"). It's a good, solid thriller, beautifully shot and well-acted, and yet a lot of the time, you know exactly where it's going. I went into the theater knowing absolutely nothing about it and yet I often felt like I was a step ahead. A teenage boy is speeding recklessly down a deserted road -- there's going to be an accident. A new gun is shown off -- well, you know what they say about a gun in the first act. One character is so clearly doomed he might as well have been wearing a red shirt.
And yet, I was completely captivated by "The Lookout," which says something about Frank's skills as a filmmaker. The film has a strong sense of place (it is set in Kansas, though it was shot on the more northerly plains of Manitoba) and several fascinating characters. The protagonist, Chris Pratt (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), is a former high school hotshot whose head injury has given him a life far different from the one he expected to lead. He goes to class to learn basic skills, lives with a wise and sardonic blind roommate named Lewis (Jeff Daniels), and has a night job cleaning a small-town bank. A bank! That couldn't be a potentially-important plot point, could it? Hmm...
One night, Chris, hanging out in a bar after work, is befriended by the charismatic Gary (Matthew Goode), who takes him under his wing and introduces him to a new, fast crowd, including a hot ex-stripper named Luvlee (Isla Fisher). Chris loves feeling special again and hanging out with bad boys and cute girls is decidedly more exciting than cooking spaghetti with Lewis at home in their dingy apartment. But the new friendships bring Chris much more than he bargained for. Remember, Chris works in a bank. At night. Alone.
The ending of the film is genuinely suspenseful, even if you can guess where things are headed. Gordon-Levitt, who spent his teenage years in the sitcom "Third Rock From the Sun," gives a sensitive performance as a disabled young man trying to struggle through each day. He carries a little notebook around in which he writes down anything he needs to remember; at home, everything is labeled to help jog his defective memory ("TAKE KEYS; LOCK DOOR"). Sometimes, frustration gives way to anger and depression, as when Chris can't find a can opener and trashes the kitchen as a result. You really get a sense of what it must be like to live with such a condition, and it's sensitively handled.
Jeff Daniels is great as Lewis, who is the voice of reason in the film. I just wish I could remember the difference between Jeff Daniels and Jeff Bridges. They're both really talented actors. Maybe Bridges = "Big Lebowski," Daniels = "Dumb and Dumber"?
"The Lookout" will be released on March 30. If you carry around a little notebook with you, jot this down: "GO SEE 'THE LOOKOUT'." |
| posted by 125records @ 10:25 PM |
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| Tuesday, March 13, 2007 |
| A big bite of truthiness |
I finally tracked down Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream, which I wrote about a couple days ago. The Albertson's near Joe's office had a single pint left yesterday, so I grabbed it. Makes for some tasty eatin' while you're watching "The Colbert Report" -- I can't really imagine eating it when you're not watching "The Colbert Report." You have to taste the truthiness with Stephen on your screen! Also, if you cherish your arteries as much as Stephen cherishes his freedom, you'll share your scoop with a fellow member of the Colbert Nation -- it has 10 grams of saturated fat per serving.
One interesting thing I noticed while perusing the Ben and Jerry's freezer case was that they have several flavors named after pop culture figures and phenomena. Everyone knows about Cherry Garcia, but they also make Dave Matthews Band Magic Brownie, Neapolitan Dynamite, Vermonty Python and Phish Food Surf 'n Turf (chocolate fish and chocolate cows!). Personally, I can't stand the Dave Matthews Band, so I would never buy its namesake ice cream, no matter how tasty it looked. Maybe that's a tad irrational but I think that's the risk a company takes when it looks to real life personages for inspiration. May I suggest the following flavor ideas:
- Ann Coulter's Bananas & Nuts
- Barack Obama's Chocolate/Vanilla Swirl
- Lance Bass's Tunnel o'Fudge
- Anna Nicole Smith's Rest in Peach
- Barry Bonds' Sweet Cream
Also, not to bring up "The Secret" again, but you know something's gone mainstream when The Onion mocks it. |
| posted by 125records @ 5:35 PM |
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| Monday, March 12, 2007 |
| Prodigies |
Theater brings out a lot of emotions in me, ranging from awe to boredom to amusement to anger (why does Hedda Gabler have to be such a bitch?). "The Pillowman," which just closed at Berkeley Rep, brought out something a little rarer: envy. As in, how could playwright Martin McDonagh be blessed with such an amazing imagination? Then there's the fact that McDonagh wrote all of his plays while in his mid-20s, and subsequently decided to retire from playwriting (he's currently directing his first full-length film). No doubt about it, this guy is a friggin' genius.
I had my doubts about seeing "The Pillowman," since it deals with unpleasant topics like torture and child murder, but it got such rave reviews, plus it starred Erik Lochtefeld, whom I'd enjoyed so much in the role of Tom in last year's Rep production of "The Glass Menagerie." "The Pillowman" is a little rough going, but it's also a brilliant play. Lochtefeld plays Katurian Katurian, a writer who has been taken into custody to be questioned by the police. Since he lives in a totalitarian regime, lawyering up is not an option. Turns out two children have been killed, and the methods are identical to those used in a couple of Katurian's grisly stories. Also under suspicion is Katurian's mentally challenged brother, Michal (Matthew Maher, in a pitch-perfect performance). One of the obvious questions at the outset is, why does Katurian write about such horrible things? That is thoroughly explained in one of the many stories-within-a-story that help make this play so incredibly captivating.
Another theatrical wunderkind, though on a more local scale (for now, at least), is Mark Jackson, whose "American $uicide" just finished a successful run at the Thick House in San Francisco. Jackson, in his mid-30s, is practically becoming a brand name in the Bay Area, thanks to his acclaimed plays, like "The Death of Meyerhold" and "The Forest War," both performed by Shotgun Players. After taking on serious topics, maybe Jackson, in the footsteps of dramatist Michael Frayn (whose "Noises Off" is bar none the funniest play ever), wanted to show he could do comedy & satire, too. "American $uicide" not only takes on the reality show/celebrity culture of today's U.S. -- it's so up to the minute, one of the characters referred to "Wild Hogs" as the #1 grossing movie in America, which it was at the time -- but also skewers what one character constantly refers to in a grandiose manner as "the American theatuh." A lot of people, Chronicle critic Robert Hurwitt foremost among them, loved "$uicide," but I found it about two miles above "over the top," especially since the Thick House is a fairly small theater. Having characters playing such broad caricatures about three feet in front of you is a slightly jarring experience, and the ending strikes a very odd note. However, it was worth seeing the play just for Marty Pistone's role as Albert, a guy who who aspires to be a big-time porn producer (he's making videos with his girlfriend Margaret to post on their web site, nicely demonstrating how anyone with a URL can gain a bit of fame, or at least infamy, these days). Pistone is absolutely fearless. You've got to admire a guy who doesn't mind showing off his flabby behind in a thong, especially when the audience is close enough to see every pimple. |
| posted by 125records @ 12:11 PM |
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| Friday, March 09, 2007 |
| I can see the tears of shastasheen |
Paula writes re: "The Secret," "[I]f you see the film, you might realize that it's pretty harmless. I'm a little surprised by the intensity of the backlash." Having spent several years as a journalist, where I had to be concerned with stuff like "facts" and "research," I am now glorying in the blog world where I can just be snarky about things based on second- and third-hand knowledge, and a little slapdash Googling. So no, I haven't seen it. But I am convinced that the excerpt I linked to in my post is pure hooey: "Don't buy clothes at your current weight. Have faith and focus on the clothes you are going to buy. Attracting the perfect weight is the same as placing an order with the catalogue of the Universe. You look through the catalogue, choose the perfect weight, place your order, and then it is delivered to you." And: "If you see people who are overweight, do not observe them." Look away! Look away!! SHUN THE FAT PEOPLE! Their fat is contagious!!!
I wish I looked like this, but I am not naive enough to think that wishing might make it so. I guess I should avoid watching "The View" lest the Universe think I really want to look like this.
I was walking past a fraternity house at UCB today and someone was blasting their stereo out a window. That brought back memories, both because kids were always doing that back when I was in college, and the fact that the song being blasted was the Pixies' "Velouria." I walked past the house again about 10 minutes later, and "Velouria" was still playing. The Pixies were my college band! Shouldn't today's frat boys be listening to the Fray or TV on the Radio instead of a band that peaked around the time they were born? |
| posted by 125records @ 6:30 PM |
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| Wednesday, March 07, 2007 |
| Random food notes |
A couple of days ago, Ben & Jerry appeared on "The Colbert Report" to promote a new flavor of ice cream, Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream. I have to admit I've held a bit of a grudge against Ben & Jerry's (which is owned by the mega-corporation Unilever, not two hippie dudes) since they discontinued my favorite flavor, Festivus. But as a member of the Colbert Nation, I shall duly seek out Americone Dream. So far I've been to three stores locally with no luck. Anyone found it on the West Coast yet?
American food manufacturers -- they just keep innovating! One of my annoyances while making a green salad is getting just the right amount of dressing on the lettuce; it's so easy to overpour and wind up with an unappetizing pool of dressing at the bottom of the bowl. Yesterday, I spotted a new product at my local Safeway: spray-on salad dressing! Obviously it won't work for, say, a creamy ranch, but I tried the balsamic vinegar kind and have to admit, it's pretty good. Plus it's kind of fun to spray your salad.
Maybe if we're lucky, Morningstar Farms will someday bring the pancake-wrapped sausage on a stick concept to the vegetarian market. |
| posted by 125records @ 1:35 PM |
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| Monday, March 05, 2007 |
| I've got a Secret |
Just to show how out of touch I am with the zeitgeist, until last night, I had never heard of "The Secret." I learned about it from a Salon.com article; apparently, it's been featured on "The Oprah Winfrey Show," and written up in Newsweek. What is "The Secret"? It's a supposed law of attraction that says if you think positively, you will attract positive things to you. "[The Secret] is like having the Universe as your catalogue. You flip through it and say, 'I'd like to have this experience and I'd like to have that product and I'd like to have a person like that.' It is you placing your order with the Universe. It's really that easy," according to Dr. Joe Vitale, a former Amway executive. Says "author and personal empowerment advocate" Lisa Nichols: "When you think of the things you want, and you focus on them with all of your intention, then the law of attraction will give you exactly what you want, every time." The DVD version of "The Secret" (it's also available as a book) shows a woman admiring a necklace in a shop window; then all of a sudden, it's around her neck. (Presumably, she didn't shoplift it.)
Unfortunately, as a cynical pessimistic hypochondriac worrywart, I'm quite sure "The Secret" wouldn't do a thing for me. I spent absolutely zero minutes wishing & hoping that I'd get a gigantic new TV set, and one showed up in my living room anyway. On the other hand, I am obsessively focused on my favorite rock band, Pavement, reuniting, and so far, the Universe has responded with a big fat "Hah!"
So... can any of my readers prove that "The Secret" works? Concentrate on a brand-new BMW or losing 10 pounds ("The Secret"'s take on dieting and weight loss are downright bizarre -- one of the recommendations boils down to, "Don't look at fat people!") and let me know if the Universe provides. In the meantime, I'll keep hoping that Stephen Malkmus never finds out about "The Secret," and that he won't use it to make his solo career a fabulous success, so some day he'll run out of money and have no choice but to reunite with his old Pavement bandmates. Then I'll wink up at the sky and say, "Thanks, Universe!" |
| posted by 125records @ 11:24 AM |
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Name: Sue
Home: San Francisco Bay Area, California, United States
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