Kramer

I haven't seen the footage, and I don't want to. I'd rather remember MR as he was on the show. By the same token, I'm not sure I can ever watch the show again without cringing a little. Which is a shame. To me, that was the sitcom to end all sitcoms - literally. After it was cancelled I never watched that kind of TV again. I figured that had been The Sitcom's grand finale of awesomeness (although CYE is a decent sequel). Now I don't even own a TV, and I like it.

Poppies

I think the reason a lot of people don't like to wear poppies around Remembrance Day is that they feel by doing so they are tacitly approving of war. Of course my hat goes off to anyone who risks their life for a worthwhile cause. A soldier, by entering any war, is just doing his or her job - it's not up to them to decide whether or not the cause is just. But it's very difficult to separate the "player" from the "game". What does it mean to be adamantly against a conflict, yet fully respectful of those fighting it? How does one express that?

Better three weeks late than never.

"My future's bleak
Ain't it neat
Yeah
I wanna be well"

- the Ramones

I Hate That Blogger Forced Me To Change

.

We should all go smoke cigars in a restaurant on Thursday night. Just 'cause we can.

Pop Cycle

I seem to be on this cycle where every five years I discover a pop band that completely blows my mind. Ten years ago it was the Ds, five years ago it was DB, now it's the aforementioned HL. In all three cases I was like "where has this band been all my life??" Seriously, I can't get enough of the first Radio Hits comp. I have to hear everything this band has recorded.

These bands have a number of things in common. They are all fronted by women (the Ds being all female, HL predominatly so) and sound unapologetically girly, albeit in different ways. All three, when at their best, wrote very traditional sounding pop songs, seemingly uncorrupted by the many horrible aspects of modern music. Not so much DB, but the other two are/were pretty silly in their prime, as if they had no idea how awesome their songs were.

It takes me a while to warm up to most bands, so when one knocks me on my ass right away, it's a big deal. It's also a big deal when I can listen to the same album more than once in one day. I've done that for all three of these bands, and not many others over the past decade.

It should be noted, the Ds went in the toilet after three singles and one LP (in my opinion). DB also ended up there, but it took them longer. HL have been at it since the early 90s, and their new stuff sounds pretty good to me.

I found it odd that these three similar discoveries occurred in almost exact five year intervals. Just thought I'd share my boundless enthusiasm.

The Dentist

"I got some tartar control toothpaste. I've still got tartar, but that shit's under control. If the tartar gets out of line I'm like 'Come on man, you know the deal. Fall in! You crazyass tartar!'

I've got so much tartar, I don't have to dip my fish sticks in shit. That's actually kinda gross. After that joke I always clarify that I'm just joking. I don't know much tartar I actually have. I believe it's an average amount. If we all did a tartar test right now my name would be right in the fuckin' middle."

- Mitch Hedberg

I went to the dentist's for a checkup tonight, my first in five years. I could have sworn I had at least two cavities on one side, based on some unpleasant sensations I've had lately when eating. After a quick x-ray, the tartar removal commenced. I'll spare you the gory details, but it was not pleasant. I always thought my dental hygiene was pretty good. I brush a lot, and pretty hard. I guess that's part of the problem... no cavities, but I've brushed my gums away. You can't win.

I joked with the hygenist on the way out that surely she must have seen worse teeth than mine over the years. Had she ever seen something so fucked up she had to fight back her utter disgust? Apparently one time a person came in with so much tartar you could not see their teeth at all. When she started to chip it away, a noxious odour was released. It was so bad she had to leave the room and put mint extract inside her mask in order to breathe (she showed me the bottle). Ouch.

So remember kids, always brush and floss!

No Ages Show

BB played twice yesterday; an early all ages show followed by one in a bar. I had been kind of depressed all day. Physically due to excessive partying the night before, and emotionally probably for the same reason.

I like all ages shows more when a lot of older people show up. Someone my age cannot do much "browsing" unless this is the case. Come on, we all like to look at attractive people dressed up for a night out.

I noticed one girl at the early show whose age I could not easily estimate. I wasn't sure if I should feel ashamed or not. Maybe I'm being too hard on myself. I've reached the point where a pretty girl without a compelling personality loses my (romantic) attention almost immediately - and those who pass this level are almost all well over 20 years old. Anyway, this situation made me feel even more bummed out than I already was. Not surprisingly, I didn't enjoy our set very much. The kids all stayed far away from us, and it made me care that much less. Oh well. On to the bar.

The second venue was packed, and the audience was right in our face. I could hear everyone else in the band and we played pretty well. During one song I rocked out flirtatiously for a cute girl who was standing near me. I was far enough away from her that she might not have understood what was going on. Then she moved to another part of the room before our set was over. I always second guess doing stuff like that after the fact. Maybe she found it weird, or didn't clue in at all. Nevertheless, rock and roll is all about sexuality, and the fact is I play a lot better with a muse, anonymous or not.

I was exhausted and still hung over from Friday, so I wanted to go home right after we played. I thought I'd do some followup first. I stood semi-near the cute girl for the next band to see if a smile or some eye contact would float my way. Neither did, despite my psychic urgings. So I went home. Some good came of it though. By staying for this reason I got to hear a band I might not otherwise have checked out, and they were actually pretty good.

...gotcha.

My mother didn't raise no dummies.

Smoking At The Arcade

I don't smoke and I never have. I'm not a nazi about it. If a smoking friend brings up quitting, I encourage them. Maybe I'll joke about it if I know the person really well, but generally I'll leave it alone.

Ironically, I have a lot of happy memories associated with the smell of cigarette smoke. I'm old enough that smoking was almost omnipresent when I was growing up, though not in our home. Smoke reminds me of my first all ages shows. Of holiday visits to certain relatives. The best smoke-memory though has to be sneaking out to sketchy video arcades when I was 11, 12 years old (early-mid 80s). The kind filled with metalheads and drug dealers. They were very dark and scary, yet I knew that the people who hassled me at school never visited such places, so there was a certain bizarre safety about it too.

I really liked going to arcades. I remember being so impressed the first time I saw someone play Tron in the tiny, smoky, 6-machine operation next to the corner store in our semi-rural suburb. But my favorite games to play were pinball machines, because they felt more real than video games. That little silver ball is an actual thing, not just a point of light.

My mom was not a fan of this activity. Hanging out in such dubious establishments, I guess she saw potential for me to become a twelve-year-old stoner or something. It's like those old after school specials on TV... kid gets peer pressured into taking some strange sort of pill, and the next thing you know the world looks fish-eyed to him, he thinks everyone is a monster, and he is jumping out of a high window, thinking he can fly. You know, that familiar old story that has touched all of our lives.

So I was banned from all arcades.

I hated to lie to mom or sneak around behind her back. In retrospect, I was probably way more scared of my parents than I needed to be (certainly more than most of my current friends were at that age). Yet, my desire to play pinball machines was too great to ignore. So I decided to build my own.

In our basement there was a 2' X 2' wooden box, about 5" deep, which had been used to mix cement. The bottom was clean enough to be usable. I nailed a piece of wood on the inside right of the space to create a track for releasing the (golf) ball. At the top of the track were two nails at a diagonal angle for deflecting the ball into the area of play. The ball was shot out thus: a hole had been bored in the right front coner of the box, big enough for a sawed-off hockey stick to be jammed through, knocking the golf ball off the elastic and into the game. Flippers presented a logistical problem; I settled on one large flipper (same hockey stick) shoved through a hole in the left side of the box. It had a fixed range of motion, giving the ball a reasonable chance to end up in the gutter. To score, I nailed plastic thread spools in strategic parts of the box, along with some more elastic bands to make things interesting. You would have to count your own score, or perhaps appoint an independent arbitrator.

I attempted to charge a small fee for the use of the machine by the neighbourhood kids. I don't know how much money I made, but whatever it was had to have been pure profit. Not a lot of overhead went into this. Eventually the novelty wore off though, and the machine went in the garbage.

As for my views on arcades, after we moved from CB to Darkside (age 13 for me), I decided that mom's decree would be subject to renewal. The onus would be on her to renew it. Otherwise I would assume it had expired. This worked out quite well for me. And Fantasy 2000 (MM Mall). And Electronic Encounters (P-Horn Mall). And that place where the strip club is now.

I've Come Up With A Name For My Lifestyle

"Pragmatic Hedonism"

The Unconcealed Cellphone

No offence people, but this is a sure sign that you have become your parents.

"Yes that's right, punk is dead
It's just another cheap product for the consumers head
Bubblegum rock on plastic transistors
Schoolboy sedition backed by big time promoters
CBS promote the Clash
Ain't for revolution, it's just for cash
Punk became a fashion just like hippy used to be
Ain't got a thing to do with your or me

Movements are systems and systems kill
Movements are expressions of the public will
Punk became a movement cos we all felt lost
Leaders sold out and now we all pay the cost
Punk narcissism was a social napalm
Steve Jones started doing real harm
Preaching revolution, anarchy and change
Sucked from the system that had given him his name

Well I'm tired of staring through shit stained glass
Tired of staring up a superstars arse
I've got an arse and crap and a name
I'm just waiting for my fifteen minutes fame

Steven Jones, you're napalm
If you're so pretty vacant, why do you smarm?
Patti Smith, you're napalm, your write with your hand
But it's Rimbaud's arm

And me, yes, I, do I want to burn?
Is there something I can learn?
Do I need a business man to promote my angle
Can I resist the carrots that fame and fortune dangle
I see the velvet zippies in their bondage gear
The social elite with safetypins in their ear
I watch and understand that it don't mean a thing
The scorpions might attack, but the systems stole the sting
PUNK IS DEAD. PUNK IS DEAD. PUNK IS DEAD"

- Crass, 1978

What A Find

I'm not as much into pop punk as I used to be, but holy crap I'm flipping over this band right now. I should have been listening to this instead of Reggie in the early 2000s.

"I got no worries I don't care what I do,
I'm gonna walk all over you,
Loving hard and getting high,
Hell's the place I'm gonna die."

- Venom

Love

It's out there. Somewhere.

Sometimes, it's like a cross between uselessness and a waste of time.

I Liked The Article, But...

...my BB name is Love Awesome, not Love Machine.

I'm flattered though. It was cool to be mentioned.

In the dream, my bands have both just finished playing a show in New York. I vaguely recall setting up and looking around the venue, but what I remember most happened afterward.

We were travelling in one vehicle, and everybody took off without me. They said they'd be back, but I had the distinct feeling they would not. As they drove off I looked on from a corner store. The neighbourhood was not a good one, but it was bizarre and not linked to reality at all.

Outside there were many roving gangs of what I'd describe as ultra-aggressive panhandlers. They looked and talked somewhere between Luther from the movie The Warriors and Scorpio from the first Dirty Harry flick. They would operate in groups of 8-10, surrounding passersby and getting right in their faces, literally inches from them. They'd threaten to kill them, torture them, and do all this other bad stuff if they didn't give up all their money. None of these threats seemed to be carried out though, and the people walking down the street would just ignore the gangs, acting like there was no one there no matter how aggressive they became.

Looking at all this, I knew I'd never survive here. Obviously, the locals were hardened and numb to this behaviour. There seemed to be a code of etiquette whereby as long as you showed no reaction, they wouldn't harm you but if you did, you were dead. I didn't think I had the nerves to survive this extreme level of harassment. I had to get out.

I summoned up all my courage and started walking down the street. I would just walk right the fuck out of there. But the city is pretty big, and I got discouraged fast. Avoiding the gangs was a real pressure cooker since they were everywhere. I decided the only escape was to climb up a tree. So I found one and climbed up.

Once I thought I was safe, I had a look around. I was shocked to see that two people had hung themselves in the tree I was in. Looking at other trees, every single one had someone hung from it... and not all by the neck. Some were contorted into weird positions, dying slow deaths up in the trees. Maybe the ground was a better place to be.

I decided I'd try and head back to the corner store, since I felt sort of safe there. The streets and sidewalks were very crowded. There seemed to be this weird rule where if you weren't walking fast enough, the person behind you could tug on your jacket as a sign to let them by. The first time someone did this to me, I nearly punched them, but they walked by me too quickly. Soon I noticed this was normal behaviour here, and people were tugging jackets all over the place, with the tug-ee not reacting at all.

I couldn't get used to it. Everytime I felt my jacket being tugged I had to stop myself from taking a swing at the person. My anxiety must have been noticed by the local pickpockets. What they started to do was pull my jacket, then try to grab my wallet as I was caught off guard. None of them were successful, and I moved it to my front pocket, keeping my hand in there.

I'd had just about enough of this place. I got out my cell phone to try and text the rest of the bands. But people around me would just tug my jacket, then try and steal the phone right out of my hand.

I made it back to the store and looked for the narrowest aisle I could find. I found one with a dead end, and I thought that was a safe place I could text from. I got the message off, staring through the chip bags between words, like a soldier in a trench.

I went to the front of the store and waited. I didn't know if they got the message or not. It was getting late and the store was going to close. I felt like I had gone to hell.

The end.

Flashes Of Nerd-dom

I used to watch reruns of Star Trek TOS when I was a kid. I loved it. The corniness of it all did not register with me in any way.

My interest waned over time. Today, I could watch an original series episode every now and then. Maybe a very well written next generation episode, maybe. I doubt I could sit through anything after that.

Yet on the bus today, original ST crossed my mind. I was thinking about Mr. Sulu. I always thought he was of Japanese descent (wasn't there some episode where he went nuts and thought he was a samurai or something?)... but it occured to me today that there is no "L" in the Japanese language. This was quite a conundrum for 7:45 in the morning.

Wikipedia explains it thus (Hikaru is his first name):

The character is meant to be of pan-Asian descent but raised in San Francisco. Hikaru is a Japanese name, while Sulu is taken from a province in the Philippines. Sulu is not a real Japanese name; in Japanese the consonants L and R are in free variation, and in the Japanese version of Star Trek, the character's name is changed to Kato. The closest equivalent to "Sulu" would be (suru) which means "to do" in Japanese.

Thanks again, Wikipedia.

Scene From An Unproduced Film

"Bob" has recently lost his mind, for whatever reason. He has started to make absurd claims, such as being invisible and able to walk through walls. "Joe" is his friend.

Bob (teeth gnashed, highly agitated): "I can walk through walls!!!!!!!!"

Joe: "Dude, no you can't. No one can do that."

Bob (now freaking out): "Yes I can!! YOU'LL SEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

*attempts to walk briskly through wall. fails and hurts self.*

Joe: "Man, I told you you couldn't walk though a wall!"

Bob (holding head in pain, still freaking out): "THIS ISN'T A WALL!! THIS IS SOMETHING ELSE!!!!!"

As days go, this was not a really happy one.

I've avoided playing newspaper sudoku since Thursday, online since Wednesday.

I'm sick and most of my motivations are in the shop. Today I'll repair myself with beer and football. I'll be good as new soon. Ironically, I sounded healthier than usual on the radio last night.

Props to Ame for barbecue contributions above and beyond the call.

I Got So Much Trouble On My Mind I Refuse To Lose

That's too dramatic.

Numbers

I have a lot more fun playing for 10 people who are totally into the band than 100 who aren't.

PEI was a classic GS road trip. NA & the Scribs did much to enhance the fun, both at the bar and the truckstop on the way home. We were in the right venue for a tiny crowd, so both bands felt good about the show.

Well-rested days off work without responsibility... are nice.

...And Another Thing!

GS might be too arty for some. BB might be too, but the main complaint I get about BB is "you're too loud". That sucks if you can't hear all the instruments, and I admit we've had unbalanced sound before, but not recently.

Eb once told me a story of how after one of our shows a guy told him we should not play so loud, out of concern for our drummer. Apparently, the audience member was worried because WE wears headphones when he plays. You must be too loud if your drummer is forced to wear headphones!

I recall us having decent sound at that show, no one drowned anyone out. That's the only BB sound critique I will accept. Come on guy, have you never heard a loud band before? Invest in some earplugs or something! BB plays as loud as our modest amps will allow - the end. We can improvise ambient noise at lower volumes, but our songs are played loud.

On a side note, I'm doing sound at a gig tonight. This should be interesting. I'm up to the challenge, but anyone who knows me understands that I'm kind of a sonic gourmand. I lack subtlety and don't understand nuances. I do sound like Cookie Monster eats.

Arthur Rock

Sometimes when a band is hard to describe, they are refered to as "arty". I've used the term when talking about both of my bands, but now I'm not so sure if I should.

In a way I was flattered that someone would describe GS as "arty", but the feeling subsided when I found out it wasn't meant as a compliment. It made me think more about the word and what it means. I wouldn't object at all if one of our friends used the term, yet when it's used as an insult I find myself on the defensive. "Hey, we're not that arty."

What would make GS an art-rock bad? All those fancy chords we play? No, about 90% of what we play is power chords and blues riffs. What about those prog-ass song structures? Come on. Is it because we don't have a bass player? Would the Ramones be an art-rock band if you took Dee Dee out?

Was the person implying that we were a bunch of pretentious fucks? If so, what makes them think that? Have they even met us?

But let's look at this again. Maybe we are an art rock band. Our songs don't have typical verse-chorus structures. We do use two tunings, with a third on the way (the "others" are drop tunings that actually simplify playing). There is the matter of that 10% non-power-chord element. I guess it's significant.

I suppose I shouldn't worry about comments like this. I mean, I really don't give a fuck if ANYONE likes my bands or not (outside our close friends, of course). There's nothing wrong with wanting to be liked, but there's something I find really attractive about not giving two shits. Not pandering. I like playing whatever I want and not sticking to a plan (unlike vitually every other aspect of my life).

In all of my pre-2004 bands I kind of focused inward when writing - that is, I set limits on what I wanted to do so I could focus on doing the most with the least. "You have this amount of time per song, this number of chords, these types of chords, these tempos. That's all you get. Make it into something great". I really liked to work that way back then, and I don't regret it at all. But now I want to write differently. It's silly to think that punk rock requires the above process for writing songs. You'll run out of weapons fast. I'd get bored.

You'd think "getting bored with the same old thing" would be a young person's attitude, with the older crowd sticking to the tried and true over the long term. I find I'm the opposite. The older I get the more I want to... not so much discard the tried and true, but twist it around and fuck it up so that it's still monolithic and awesome, yet modified and different to experience.

I'm getting too abstract here, but hopefully you get the idea.

I feel the turning point for me through it all was discovering:

Explosions And Recoveries

Between the fest, funding drive and recharging time I've done a whole lot of nothing lately. Last night I went out and enjoyed an awesome band, which was the most non-responsibility-related fun I've had in a while. BB is doing an interview today, which I'm quite excited about. GS has an out of town show this week. I think we've mastered the full drum kit. The Halloween show was a blast.