| Monday, September 29, 2008 |
| Thank you for the calendar, whoever you are... |
I received an Election Day Advent Calendar in the mail today. There was no indication who sent it to me, but it looks really fun. I checked with the likeliest suspects (Joe and my dad, who both know I'm a fan of advent calendars), but they denied involvement.
Anyone want to 'fess up?
If any of my readers wants to send me free stuff in the mail, I've always wanted a TAG Heuer watch. Thanks in advance! |
posted by 125records @ 7:41 PM  |
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| Friday, September 26, 2008 |
| How to Lose $40,000 Without Really Trying |
As soon as I got home from Albuquerque, Joe & I headed down to the Fillmore to see the first of Spoon's three-night stand. I'm always at book club on Tuesday, so I had the choice to buy a ticket for either Monday or Wednesday's show -- if I'd known I would be staying in New Mexico 'til Monday in order to catch Wendy Rule, I'm sure I would have bought tix for Wednesday instead, but who could know? Anyway, I am kicking myself after reading a blog post about Wednesday's show, because Spoon played two of my favorite songs ("Car Radio" and "The Way We Get By") as encores that night, and they didn't perform them on Monday! Argh! Oh well, I'll try to be content with the ones I did get to hear, including an outrageously good "Stay Don't Go" (with horn section!), "Jonathan Fisk" and "You Got Yr Cherry Bomb." They also covered the Rolling Stones' "Rocks Off" (what a popular cover!) and Paul Simon's "Peace like a River." Opening band the Heavenly States covered the Replacements' "I Will Dare," another excellent choice. Next time Spoon does a multi-night stand here, maybe I'll just have to go see all of the concerts.
I've written before about the New York Times' fawning reportage on the superrich -- remember that 2006 article about the cancer doc who opted to go into the field of health care investment banking (for Merrill Lynch) instead of research, so he could give lots of money to charity a la Bill Gates and Warren Buffett? That guy at least seemed to have good intentions, but for years, going into investment banking seemed to be the quickest route to a lifestyle of private jets, lavish vacation homes, round-the-clock nannies and fancy clubs (like the Core Club, "an oasis for investment bankers, hedge fund managers and private equity partners," who paid $100,000 to join). I keep searching the NYT for articles on what's going to happen to those Masters of the Universe now that the economy has collapsed, but so far I haven't found anything. Are investment bankers now shopping at Sam's Club and PayLess Shoes?
My fear is that somehow, the $700 billion bailout will just go to prop up their champagne & caviar lifestyles so they don't need to live like the rest of us. Plus, it's not like we the taxpayers have $700 billion; presumably we'll have to borrow it from China. I'm scared and I'm suspicious, and judging from the radio call-in shows I've listened to, so are many, many other Americans. On KQED's Forum, one of the guest financial experts simply suggested not looking at your brokerage or 401K statements for a while.
Every day, I can't help but wonder what my beloved grandmother would have thought of what's going on now. I think she would have been mighty freaked out by it. She was a savvy investor and over the years, she gave her children and grandchildren gifts of stock. I decided that I would hold the shares long-term, reinvest all the dividends, and down the road, use the proceeds for two purposes: ensure that I won't have to live on ramen noodles when I reach retirement age, and help put my friends' kids through college, which will probably cost about a million bucks a year by the time they are ready to enroll. The stock was all in good, solid American corporations; surely they would serve me well for the next 30-40 years, right?
One of the best performers in my portfolio was a company I had never heard of until I was given the stock; I had to do some research to find out what they did. It turns out it was an insurance and financial services company. The stock did really well year after year. It did go down a bit this year, but heck, everything else was going down too; I was a "buy and hold forever" kind of investor, just like Warren Buffett. Things would bounce back up eventually!
And then I got a New York Times news alert about "my" insurance company that said it was in grave danger of going under. The share price dropped down to around $2. Just like that, I had lost about $40,000. And it didn't look like it would be bouncing back anytime soon. In fact, if the company needs to be dismantled to pay back the Fed, my shares may be worth $0.
(Fun side note: $112 million of your taxpayer financed loan is going to pay for the company's sponsorship of the Manchester United football team! Hope you're not a Liverpool fan!)
The money was just on paper -- it didn't affect my day-to-day life in the slightest -- but it sucks nevertheless. In retrospect, maybe I have should have sold all of the individual stocks I was given and put everything into index funds (we do own those too, by the way). Maybe Enron should have taught me that it is too risky for small investors to own shares in individual companies. I called my accountant for advice, and he said not to panic and make any sudden money moves -- wait a couple weeks or a month and see what's going on then. In the meantime, I'll try to resist the urge to cash out everything and bury coffee cans full of bills in my backyard. |
| posted by 125records @ 1:23 PM |
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| Monday, September 22, 2008 |
| A post from the plane |
I am blogging from the plane, about halfway between Albuquerque and Oakland. It's turbulent and the pilot came on the PA and asked the flight attendants to please take their seats. I know this isn't supposed to bother me anymore, but I must admit that it kind of does. I might need to be re-hypnotized before I fly again (probably in January, to visit my parents in Florida). Or maybe I'll just take the whole month of January off, pack up Bibi, and go on a road trip to Florida! Woo hoo -- road trip! Put a little Skynyrd on the car stereo and drive through the South! (OK, technically Bibi wouldn't be allowed to stay in my parents' condo, but she's small and could be easily concealed, right?)
As everyone knows, Southwest flights are kind of like Greyhound buses of the sky -- they fly from city to city, dropping and picking up passengers en route. This plane is going to Portland and Spokane after it stops in Oakland, and I think it was in Kansas City before it came to Albuquerque. There are certain routes where you seem more likely to encounter "rough air" and the ones where you fly over mountains -- Denver also comes to mind -- definitely seem more turbulent. I always wonder how airline staff deal with it? In his Ask the Pilot book and column, Patrick Smith wrote that pilots don't worry about turbulence, except for the fact that it tends to make passengers uncomfortable and therefore they try to avoid it if at all possible. They want us to be happy and enjoy a nice smooth flight, without our drinks spilling onto our trays. It doesn't bother them at all! Not one bit! It's just like when I'm driving my car over a rough road -- that's all. No danger. Anyway, once you read this, you'll know everything is fine, because I'm in my house and all is right with the world.
I am pretty sure that the reason I am bothered by turbulence is because it is like a constant reminder that I am on a plane. If it's smooth, I can just immerse myself in a book or podcast or crossword -- just like I do on the ground! But when the plane is shaking, you can't help but be aware of the fact that you're over 30,000 feet up in the air.
At the gate for my flight to Oakland, I ran into the Bay Area's own "Czar of Noir" Eddie Muller and his wife Kathleen Milne. They live a few blocks away from me. I wasn't surprised to see them, as I'd spotted an ad in a local alt weekly for the Santa Fe Noir Festival, and it said Eddie would be there presenting the wonderful short film that he directed, "The Grand Inquisitor." (They, on the other hand, looked surprised to see me!) I've blogged in the past about San Francisco's annual Noir City festival, which is the biggest in the nation. Eddie told me that if they're lucky, they usually get about 100 people at the Santa Fe screenings, and for one of their shows they only had about 8 paid attendees. (Of course, their struggles brought to mind ¡Globalquerque!) Maybe people in New Mexico aren't interested in spending hot, sunny fall days sitting in the dark watching old B&W films? Anyway, if I'd had time, I would have certainly popped up to Santa Fe (about an hour north of Albuquerque) to check it out.
Instead, I went to the Guild Cinema to see "Man on Wire," which I'd just attempted to see in Berkeley -- Joe and I went to the Shattuck Theater on Wednesday night, after double-checking the Landmark web site to make sure of the time, and there was a sign up in the box office saying the screening was canceled because of a special sneak preview of "Choke." Isn't there someone at Landmark who can make sure their web site is updated? Phooey. Anyway, the Guild is a nice little single screen art house and it was fun to have the opportunity to see something there. "Man on Wire" certainly tells a remarkable story and Philippe Petit, who managed to string and walk across a high wire between the two towers of the World Trade Center back in the mid-70s, is an incredible character. One of the main reasons I wanted to see the film is because I wanted to know how he got the wire up in the first place. Answer: a lot of luck, advance preparation, and willing accomplices. To learn the details, you'll have to see the film. I suspect part of the reason for the movie's popularity is its look back at a more innocent time, when people snuck into the World Trade Center laden with equipment for the sake of an innocent prank instead of something far more sinister.
Last night, I finally had the opportunity to attend one of Jeff and Neal's famous house concerts, which helped launch Neal's career as a promoter. They hosted 100 of them before calling it quits, but Jeff decided to make it 101 when he had the opportunity to welcome the magical Wendy Rule, a veteran house concert performer, back. She is an Australian singer-songwriter who has one of the most beautiful voices you'll ever hear. She mentioned that this was her 40th trip to the U.S.! Now there's someone who doesn't mind flying. Of course, Wendy is a Wiccan so maybe she knows how cast a spell to ensure a particularly pleasant journey. She certainly enchanted the audience of about 40 people in Jeff's living room. I took a photo afterward, and Jeff made some comment about it ending up on my blog. I certainly don't want to disappoint, so here you go!
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| posted by 125records @ 6:49 PM |
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| Saturday, September 20, 2008 |
| Going Global! |
 Just back from Day 2 of ¡Globalquerque! I'm pretty exhausted so this won't be my most coherent blog entry. I take the success of the event very personally so I'm pleased to report that while the crowd was not quite as large as last night's, I believe that it was still bigger than the one at either of last year's shows. I'm sure Neal will correct me if I'm wrong. (By the way, if you saw Neal during the event, he was probably talking on his ever present Bluetooth! One of the sad truths is that if you are the person organizing a fantastic festival, you probably won't have a chance to enjoy much of it...)
My day at G! started off bright and early with some volunteer hours at the merch/info booth. Things were pretty quiet there, so it was an easy gig. During the day, there is a lot of programming aimed at families and children. There was a fun little train that took kids on rides around the grounds, and lots of dance workshops, art- and instrument-making opportunities, and performances. Admission is free, so it makes a nice weekend activity for parents and kids.
By midafternoon, it was sweltering so I figured I'd go to the Flying Star for a mango iced tea and a sandwich. The guy sitting at the table next to mine was chatting on his cell phone, and I overheard him say that he'd been to the festival last night and that his wife and kids were currently there for the day programming. They came by a little later, one of the girls carrying a little drum that she'd made.
I arrived back at 6 PM to catch the first act on the schedule, Los Matachines de Bernalillo. This was an interesting cultural event. Four musicians sat on stage, and a troupe of male dancers, accompanied by two young girls dressed in white, performed. The dance-drama is done in honor of San Lorenzo, the town of Bernalillo's patron saint. Here is an article explaining the tradition. The men all wear tall headdresses and black fringed scarves covering their whole faces. It is an amazing tradition, but if I were a youngster, I think I would have been kind of freaked out by the seemingly faceless men! (Since they were sharing with us one of their sacred rites, we were asked not to take photographs. I did find a few online in this gallery.)
I was so psyched to see this billboard, I had to pull over and take a photo!
Forro in the Dark (below) were an excellent Brazilian band which really got the crowd moving with their danceable tunes. A few songs in, it started raining, but as was the case last night, it didn't last long -- hooray! Most people ignored the brief shower and just kept dancing.
I am not a huge fan of Hawaiian music, but I thought I'd check out a little bit of Hapa's set. Two members of the group, Barry Flanagan and Nathan Aweau, were performing as a duo (Hapa played as a quartet last night). At one point, Aweau started playing a SEVEN STRING bass guitar!! I had never seen anything like it. He was quite a virtuoso. He played "Greensleeves" and the Beatles' "Come Together," so I guess I didn't have to worry about it being "too Hawaiian"!
One of the coolest things about G! is that it features acts on three different stages, so you never have to experience a moment of downtime -- there are always at least two performers playing at once. However, the dark side of this scheduling is that sometimes there are a couple of excellent things going on at the same time. Such was the case tonight, when Lo Cor de la Plana and Mexican Institute of Sound were on opposite each other. I had no idea what to expect from Lo Cor, who were described as a "French a cappella group." If you expected something delicate and pretty from that description, guess again -- this was a raucous, hard-driving group of Frenchmen from the town of Marseilles, which one of the members described as "the filthiest town in France" (at least in the eyes of the Parisians, their bitter enemies!). The sextet commands the stage, accompanying themselves with hand claps, foot stomps, and hand drums. The crowd went nuts for them and my pal Jeff in the merch booth said they had quickly sold out of their CDs.
I couldn't tear myself away from their performance, so I only wound up seeing about 25 minutes of M.I.S., who ROCKED THE HOUSE with its irresistible mashup of electronica, cumbia, hip-hop and about a dozen other genres. (One tune mixed a little "Macarena" in with "Music to Watch Girls By.") The band consisted of two DJs and a live drummer -- it was a little hard to see 'cause it was crowded but the main guy, Camilo Lara, also appeared to be playing cowbell and a small keyboard. The area in front of the stage was full of madly dancing people of all ages, from 10 to 60+. It occurred to me that if M.I.S. ever played San Francisco it would probably be at some trendy club that would make me feel old and hopelessly unhip, but here at G!, there was a delightful sense of unity. It felt good. I was a little disappointed that they hadn't brought any CDs to sell, but their latest disc Piñata is available from eMusic and even has a couple of eMusic-exclusive bonus tracks. Score!
After five hours of music, I was feeling a little wiped so I left about 40 minutes into closer Thomas Mapfumo's set, but I was able to catch a few more minutes of it on the live simulcast on KUNM during the drive back to the hotel. So that's it for G! '08. Let's do it again next year -- say, Sept. 25 & 26, 2009. |
| posted by 125records @ 10:38 PM |
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| Friday, September 19, 2008 |
| On the road again |
I'm coming to you from Albuquerque, which longtime readers know is one of my fave spots. Joe is home with Bibi, as he had a Shotgun Players benefit tonight. It's sort of lonely being here by myself (sniff!), but oh well.
My friend Neal co-produces a world music festival called ¡Globalquerque!, for which I am the webmaster. I spend so much time throughout the year working on the web site that it's kind of a nice payoff to actually attend the event. I arrived in town this afternoon a few hours before the 6 PM starting time. The extremely friendly young man at the rental car counter asked what had brought me to town, and I mentioned the festival. He had never heard of it, which I considered a teachable moment. I said in a few years, it would be Albuquerque's second biggest tourist attraction after the balloon festival.
After tonight, I'm starting to think that bit of hyperbole might actually be warranted. As much as I love Albuquerque and her people, it's been a bit of a sore spot with me that more folks don't come out and support the festival. You can read way more about it in my post from last year, if you're interested. However, tonight's crowd seemed huge. I'll have to wait and get the actual stats from Neal, but to my eye it looked like the biggest G! audience yet. (He told me that advance sales for Friday were way ahead of Saturday, so it's possible I'll be disappointed tomorrow, but I hope not. The merch booth was selling Saturday tickets at a super-low price for anyone who wanted to come back.)
Lining up for food in the Global Village
G! is an unbelievably well-organized festival. As an audience member, I never fail to be impressed by how it runs like clockwork. If it says in the program book that a band will start at 7:20 and stop at 8:20, you could practically set your watch by it. The volunteers are friendly and helpful. Along with the music, there's a wonderful global village with food booths, artisans, community groups, etc. And how about this -- the Saturday night headliner, Kanda Bongo Man, canceled his U.S. tour two weeks before the festival, and within a couple of days, Neal and his co-producer Tom had booked an equally well regarded African musician, Thomas Mapfumo. The only hitch tonight was a rain shower around 9:30, but it didn't last long. It wouldn't surprise me if Neal and Tom had something to do with that, too.
Tonight's show kicked off with a hometown band, New Mexico's own Cuarenta y Cinco (above), and proceeded to take festivalgoers around the world, with stops in Hawaii, Russia, Israel, Mali, Quebec, and more. I caught at least part of everybody's set with the exception of Greece's Savina Yannatou, since she'll be performing again tomorrow. My favorite was Germany's 17 Hippies, a huge ensemble (there weren't 17 of them, but I think there were at least 14) that plays a diverse blend of folk music, from Eastern European to Louisiana Cajun to French chanson. They were fun to watch and I stayed for their whole set, which I wish had been longer. (They're playing in Madison, WI tomorrow night, so I guess they had to get moving.) The audience favorite seemed to be Israel's Mor Karbasi, an extremely beautiful young singer from Israel with a lovely voice. It was her very first show ever in the U.S., and she couldn't have been sweeter and more appreciative of the crowd's rapturous response. I hope the people in Chicago (her next stop) are as kind to her!
The only artist here who I had seen before is Vieux Farka Toure, whom I saw at Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco a few months ago. I stuck around for a good chunk of his set anyway; I really enjoy that hypnotically rhythmic, bluesy sound of Malian music. There was a woman standing in front of me who looked sort of like an aging Hollywood star -- she had blonde hair, wore a long dress, and was carrying a little dog. Maybe I should have brought Bibi!
It occurred to me that if I had a BlackBerry or iPhone, I could liveblog or Twitter the entire festival. Alas, you'll have to wait 'til afterward for the lowdown. Keep your fingers crossed that tomorrow is a sunny day (there are lots of free activities and performances in the early afternoon), and that the Plaza is full of happy, dancing people in the evening! |
| posted by 125records @ 10:58 PM |
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| Thursday, September 18, 2008 |
| Meet Bibi |
This is Bibi. She is a 3 4-year-old Boston Terrier. Edited to add: I was initially told she was 3, but I just found out she's 4.
Bibi was surrendered to rescue by her family when she bit a child. She wasn't particularly happy living with a dozen other rescue dogs, though, so I was asked if I would foster her for a little while. I was assured that she was not a biter by nature, and had been kept somewhat isolated from the family, outdoors in a dog run or in a crate most of the time.
Bibi seemed like a well-behaved, sweet-natured dog -- she knew a few commands and was eager to please and full of energy. Plus, she was adorable (if you like Boston Terriers, of course -- she's pretty much a textbook Boston). After a couple of days, we realized that it would make us sort of sad to give her up. We'd been thinking of getting a new dog anyway -- why not just keep her?
I named her Bibi (changing her name from Bugsy, which sounded far too gangster-ish) and bought her a new collar (she had come in one with a Harley-Davidson logo). Really, my only gripe so far is that she's developed a fanatical attachment to the living room couch and has no interest in spending the day sleeping in my office, despite the fact that there's a nice clean bed in here. If I make a move toward the front door, though, she gets incredibly excited; she loves going for walks, or more accurately, for runs. (She's small, but she's very, very fast.)
I'm hoping I'll eventually be able to convince her that she really wants to be here during the day, not in the living room. (Yes, I have tried keeping treats and toys in here.) But on the whole, it's nice to have a dog around the house again.
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| posted by 125records @ 12:12 PM |
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| Monday, September 15, 2008 |
| Mood: Sad and angry |
In case you haven't noticed, we have an election coming up in November. But while the top of the ticket is getting the lion's share of the attention, we also have a lot of smaller, local races. State legislators, city council members, local propositions -- they're all important too, maybe more important when it comes to your day-to-day life.
I moved to a new town a few months ago, one that is home to a large number of civic-minded individuals who are eager to share their thoughts and opinions on the local scene. This being the 21st century, the primary medium of expression here is the blog. I subscribe to a bunch of them, offering a variety of different viewpoints.
However, lately I've become so disgusted and demoralized by the level of discourse here that it makes me feel like picking up stakes and moving -- preferably to a deserted island somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The dean of local bloggers, who would no doubt sling mud at me if he read that I called him a blogger (he is a newspaperman), is a man in his (I believe) early 70s who also hosts a local public access TV show. He's lived here forever and he knows what is best for this town. For months I was sort of able to laugh off what I perceived as his inflated sense of self-importance, but lately, he's stepped up his vendetta against another local blogger, a much younger man who once lived in (gag, sputter) NEW YORK CITY.
Because this other guy has gotten involved in transportation issues, including advocating for increased public transit and bicycle use, he's obviously trying to turn our bucolic burg into Manhattan. Now, I have never met either of these people in person, but they both seem to care a lot about the town and have different ideas of how it should grow and change in the new century. However, the older man and his surrogates (two other locals who frequently appear on his TV show) have decided to tag the younger man with the epithet "moron." The first time "[Younger Guy] is a moron" appeared in his blog, I found it a depressing bit of name-calling; but now, this morning, the "moron" tag has appeared again -- the third time in a week, if I'm not mistaken. Oh, and then there was the other local blogger who wrote an innocuous piece about how she and her family sold their car in an effort to lighten their carbon footprint -- she was described as a "dweeb."
Is it possible for reasonable people to disagree and have a dialogue about their positions without resorting to childish name-calling? So far, the ex-New Yorker has resisted taking the bait and responding in kind on his blog, which is refreshing, and I hope he keeps it up.
I wonder how many people here might be discouraged from getting involved in local issues because they don't want a gang of bullies to call them names? I admire the people who are strong enough to stand up and say what they believe and damn the consequences, because I know I couldn't do it.
...the likeliest reason why so many of us care so little about politics is that modern politicians make us sad, hurt us in ways that are hard even to name, much less to talk about. It's way easier to roll your eyes and not give a shit... we've been lied to and lied to, and it hurts to be lied to. It's ultimately just about that complicated: it hurts. It denies you respect for yourself, for the liar, for the world. Especially if the lies are chronic, systemic, if hard experience seems to teach that everything you're supposed to believe in's really a game based on lies. Young Voters have been taught well and thoroughly. You may not personally remember Vietnam or Watergate, but it's a good bet you remember "No new taxes" and "Out of the loop" and "No direct knowledge of any impropriety at this time" and "Did not inhale" and "Did not have sex with that woman" and etc. etc. It's depressing and painful to believe that the would-be "public servants" you're forced to choose between are all phonies whose only real concern is their own care and feeding and who will lie so outrageously with such a straight face that you just know they have to believe you're an idiot.
-David Foster Wallace, April 2000
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| posted by 125records @ 9:58 AM |
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| Sunday, September 14, 2008 |
| American Suicide |
One of the things I constantly struggle with as I get older is having to accept my own ordinariness. There's a point in everyone's life, I think, where they feel they have limitless potential; you could become the best at something, you will be special. Perhaps you admire athletes like Tiger Woods or Michael Phelps, or actors like Julia Roberts or Tom Hanks, or even businessmen like Warren Buffett or Steve Jobs. You may not want to emulate their choice of career, but you are wowed by their passion and their skill.
My heroine was always author Anne Tyler, who lived a few blocks away from me for many years -- as I've stated before, I never saw her; she's something of a recluse. She published her first book when she was in her early 20s and I thought I'd be just like her someday. Of course, eventually I decided fiction writing was not my path to follow, though I've never stopped admiring Tyler's novels, and being curious about her particular brand of celebrity. If I had to be famous, hers is exactly the sort of fame I would want. She's wildly admired in certain circles, practically a household name, but she walks the streets of Baltimore without having to worry about paparazzi and autograph seekers. (Despite the fact that I never spotted her there, it was widely known that she shops at Eddie's. She probably just went there earlier in the day than I did.)
Something about David Foster Wallace's suicide really shook me, and all day I've been trying to figure out why. I had read some of his nonfiction, but his fiction always seemed too daunting to me. Infinite Jest had become something of a modern counterpart to War and Peace, the doorstop of a book you always meant to read someday. But based on what I did read, primarily the essays in A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again, it was obvious the man was unbelievably gifted, as far from ordinary as you can imagine; he could be wordy and academic (he was famous for his footnotes), but capable of coming up with blindingly brilliant insights and turns of phrase. He won a MacArthur genius grant a few years back, and had become a well-regarded writing teacher in recent years.
He lived the life that most writers dream about: financial success, critical acclaim, adoring fans, the sort of Tyler-like level of fame that renders you uninteresting to the TMZs of the world while keeping you on a more exclusive A-list. (Book critic Michiko Kakutani wrote his appreciation in the New York Times, calling him a "prose magician.") And yet, he made the decision to end it all. In the aftermath of his death, his bouts with depression and substance abuse have been brought up, but no one will ever comprehend the personal demons that drove him to take his own life. It's a reminder to all the ordinary people that sometimes, even being extraordinary isn't enough. |
| posted by 125records @ 10:32 PM |
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| Friday, September 12, 2008 |
| Hootenanny Time! |
Bad news for ABBA fans! The opening of the ABBA museum in Stockholm has been delayed 'til 2010 at the earliest.
Meanwhile, back in the East Bay... San Francisco Chronicle TV critic/blogger/podcaster Tim Goodman holds an annual fall preview night at a local movie theater for his cult of fans. Joe and I almost always go, but we missed last year's because we had tickets for "Sweeney Todd" at ACT. Apparently it was such a madhouse that Tim decided to hold two events this year -- one in conjunction with local radio station KFOG, and one for the crazed masses that follow his Bastard Machine blog. To be honest, I was a little worried about coming F2F with a horde of blog/podcast fans, so I decided to attend the first one.
Tim's TV Hootenanny features a screening of several new TV shows, Q&As with Tim, and lots of free stuff -- he saves up all the DVDs, T-shirts, and gimmicky items the networks send out to promote their shows and gives them away (I was excited to score a John Oliver stand-up DVD). Here is what Tim chose to show this year:
1. "The Life and Times of Tim": No, this has nothing to do with Mr. Goodman; it's a crudely animated series that will debut on HBO on Sept. 28. The episode we saw was titled "Angry Unpaid Hooker," which should be a tip-off that "Tim" is not for kids -- it's more for the "Adult Swim" crowd. It was sort of clever but not the sort of thing that makes me want to shell out for HBO.
2. "Worst Week": U.S. remake of a BBC series that premieres on CBS on Sept. 22. I can't believe I managed to sit through this entire episode, because I hated it so much. It belongs to a genre I absolutely despise -- I'll call it "everything goes horribly wrong," or, according to Wikipedia, "a comedy of embarrassment and errors." If you've ever seen the films "After Hours" or "Meet the Parents," you know what I'm talking about. Things just get worse and worse for a hapless protagonist. In the "Worst Week" pilot, a young couple, Sam and Melanie, are about to announce their engagement to Melanie's wealthy parents. Sam arrives at the in-laws' palatial manse clad only in a diaper made out of a garbage bag (don't ask), and he winds up urinating on the food, mistakenly declaring his father-in-law dead, and setting a valuable portrait on fire. Won't people be exhausted watching this kind of stuff week after week? I was tired of it after 3 minutes.
3. "Gavin and Stacey": Delightful British sitcom currently airing on BBC America, about two 20-somethings who "meet" each other over the phone at their respective jobs. She lives in Wales, he's in Essex. They make plans to get together in London, and arrive in the big city with their best friends in tow. The pals, Nessa and Smithy, are the tart and cynical counterparts to the sweet title characters (indeed, James Corden and Ruth Jones, who play the friends, are the creators and writers of the series). Rights to a U.S. remake have been purchased by NBC, but if you have BBC America, you should definitely check out the original.
4. "Little Britain USA": I had never seen the original "Little Britain," a hit sketch show that is invariably described as "tasteless" or "lowbrow" in reviews; I just had a feeling, based on what I read, that I wouldn't like it. I definitely didn't like "Little Britain USA," although I'd rather watch it than "Worst Week." Both shows feature jokes about people urinating. If you love bodily function humor and insult comedy, step right up. It debuts Sept. 28 on HBO.
5. "NOVA: Parallel Worlds, Parallel Lives": Talk about an abrupt change of tone -- the evening ended with this sensitive documentary about musician Mark Everett of the Eels, who goes on a quest to learn about his father. Hugh Everett died when Mark was just 19, and it sounds like the singer barely got to know him during the years they did spend together. The emotionally distant man was a brilliant physicist whose theories were so ahead of his time that they've only been getting the recognition they deserve in the past few years. The amazing thing about "Parallel Worlds" is that it manages to explain some of the basics of quantum mechanics to people who know zilch about it, which would include both me and Mark Everett (who jokes that he's such a math-illiterate that he has problems calculating a restaurant tip).
Hugh Everett's groundbreaking theory declared that every time we make a decision, a parallel universe splits off from our own. I've always wondered what would have happened if I hadn't gone to college where I did. In fact, an alternate-universe Sue may have gone to the University of Michigan instead of Johns Hopkins and gone on to lead a parallel life. I wonder what she's up to now?
Parallel universes have become almost commonplace in popular entertainment in recent years, including "Star Trek" and films like "Sliding Doors" and "The Butterfly Effect." If you're interested in the science behind parallel worlds, or just want to see a fascinating family story, don't miss this "Nova" episode, which will air in late October. |
| posted by 125records @ 10:03 AM |
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| Sunday, September 07, 2008 |
| Pere Ubu |
It's late in the run of Shotgun Players' "Ubu for President" -- only two performances left! -- but I'm glad Joe & I had the chance to catch it on an unusually warm Saturday. (Usually, seeing a play in the shady grove at John Hinkel Park entails bringing plenty of sweatshirts and blankets.) "Ubu" is a loose adaptation of Alfred Jarry's "Ubu Roi." Jarry's Ubu, based on a schoolteacher he hated, was such an unsympathetic and unpleasant figure that when his play debuted in Paris in 1896, a riot ensued. Ubu is still a pompous blowhard, but the Berkeley crowd responded only with riotous laughter; not even the family with two small kids seemed to mind the constant wink-wink, nudge-nudge cursing. (Ubu's favorite expletive is "Pschit.")
As Ma and Pa Ubu, Carla Pantoja and Dave Garrett look like they've just stepped out of an early John Waters movie. The Ubus live in the kingdom of Fugall, which leads to approximately 485 jokes about "the Fugging people," "your vote means Fugall," etc. etc. Like some of the jokes on "The Simpsons," this is the sort of thing that goes from funny to wearying back to funny, through sheer force of repetition. Anyway, the people of Fugall are demanding that the ruler, King Wenceslas, step down so they can choose their leader in a free election. Wenceslas agrees, but decides too run for president and instantly becomes the front runner (incumbent's advantage, you know). His opponents include the loathesome Ubu, whose clumsy campaign promises include executing everyone in the audience; the king's petulant teenage daughter, Princess Buggerless, who is running because she's mad that her dad forces her to wear the ceremonial "Fugging long skirt" out in public; and best of all, the tailor-made-for-Berkeley Ming Jamal Joaquin Wounded Knee Goldstein, whose platform is all about peace, love and respect for all living creatures. Ming is played by Sung Min Park in a scene-stealing performance; he really commits to the character, even bounding around the bleachers during intermission, earnestly entreating audience members to vote for him. I overheard him agreeing with one woman: "You're right, voting for me is like voting for the universe!"
Somehow, the crazy over-the-topness of "Ubu for President" seems just right in the out of doors. It's a frivolous summer show, but a ridiculously fun one. Plus, it's free! |
| posted by 125records @ 8:19 PM |
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| Thursday, September 04, 2008 |
| Snoose |
Just back from Sweden, I picked up a copy of the East Bay Express and a big Camel tobacco ad fell out of the middle. The glossy ad has the giant word SNUS on it, together with a stylized white version of the Camel logo.
For the uninitiated, snus is an extremely popular form of tobacco in Sweden, used by an estimated 12 percent of the population. (Camel's snus is manufactured in Sweden.) Portionssnus, which is what Camel is selling, consists of tiny pouches that you put between your cheek and upper lip, "where the oral cavity absorbs the nicotine," according to this wiki site. Unlike chewing tobacco, there's nothing to spit, and unlike cigarettes, you can use snus anywhere -- no need to worry about those pesky no-smoking laws!
So Camel is obviously investing a lot of money into making snus popular in the U.S. However, I wonder why they didn't decide to rename it. I must admit that when I took a quick glance at the logo, I thought it said "anus." (Insert "Beavis and Butthead" huh-huh laugh here.) Besides, will Americans even know how to pronounce it? It's "snoose," with a long "u," not "snuhs." Did anyone focus-group this?
Personally, I'm all in favor of snus -- anything that can stop people from puffing on their cancer sticks when they're out in public is A-OK with me, and it seems to be much safer than cigarettes (though there are still some risks involved). I'm sure my friends who live in less enlightened states where smoking is not yet banned in bars & clubs would love it if snus caught on with the folks who currently use cigarettes. But it's so tricky to market tobacco products these days, what with all the restrictions. Who will make snus cool? Maybe some of those Swedish members of the Detroit Red Wings can help introduce it to the American masses. |
| posted by 125records @ 1:25 PM |
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| Monday, September 01, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #16: I Will Miss You, Sweden |
I thought maybe I'd feel homesick during my month here, but really, the only things I missed were TiVo and NyQuil. As blog as my witness, I am never setting foot outside of the U.S. again without a supply of NyQuil (or its generic equivalent) in my toiletry case.
Local youths (inexplicably wearing deely boppers) at Sergels Torg.
Close-up of the "[Swedish] Idol" billboard. "The new judges evoke strong feelings." Click on the photo if for some reason you want to see an even bigger version. I like the fake "people" defacing the billboard.
Sadly, my camera called it quits a few days ago. It is pretty old, for a digital camera, and to be honest, there have been times I've wished it would break so I would have an excuse to go out and get a new one. The shutter speed was abysmal and the viewing window on the back tiny. I'm considering just sticking with something in the Canon PowerShot family -- any suggestions, feel free to pass them along!
Of course, one problem with Sweden is that there just aren't enough drinks here that taste like trees. I was reading the San Francisco Chronicle's Slow Food Nation blog, which contained the following passage:
Lacto-fermented probiotic drinks from Berkeley's Three-Stone Hearth, in flavors like antique rose and Douglas fir, were lightly sweet and sparkling and promised to aid digestion. Yep, nothing aids digestion like the delicious, coniferous taste of Christmas tree! |
| posted by 125records @ 6:37 AM |
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Name: Sue
Home: San Francisco Bay Area, California, United States
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