Behold the world's newest cutie-pie: My friends Ian and Tracy had their baby. Well, mostly Tracy on the having part. And not having in the possessing sense.
Hmm. Really need to change that "having a baby" expression. "Bringing forth new life"? No. Well, we'll work on that.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Steady as he goes... shopping for CDs
Last week I alluded to the Raconteurs performances at the VMAs with Lou Reed (and with Billy Gibbons). What I didn't mention was how my otherwise expansive collection lacked any Velvet Underground (or ZZTop). However, somehow I know more than just what I've bought; merely paying attention has taught me a bit (like what band Lou Reed was in), perhaps through a sort of rock 'n roll osmosis.
Last week I went to the Amoeba store in Hollywood to seek out the new Buzzcocks album. (Sure, it would have been better to have procured that disc before I saw them in concert last month, but it didn't work out that way.) However, I cannot go to that store and simply find one thing, pay for it, and leave; CD shopping is always an activity of significance, not a mere task.
Thus, while I did find the new disc from Pete and Steve and the guys (even found a used copy to save a few bucks), in the abbreviated version of shopping I did (I could not afford a serious trip)—which was about an hour in the store—I went up and down the used rock CD aisles, just glancing left and right to see what artist names on the tabs caught my eye; it was hardly a thorough search, and even when I did stop and look through the CDs available for a given artist, I restricted consideration to discs marked $6.99 or less. (That still permitted discs by Black Flag, Gomez, Neko Case, Uncle Tupelo, as well as two other Buzzcocks discs.)
No doubt thanks to seeing Jack White and the guys with Lou Reed, as I patrolled the used CDs I was inspired to seek out the tab for the Velvet Underground, and there was a copy of their first album (with the banana on the cover) and the meager Millennium Collection (a "greatest hits" collection). The song performed at the VMAs ("White Light, White Heat"), from their second album, was on the "hits" CD, but I wasn't sure I wanted that; it seems kind of half-assed to just listen to a smattering of an artist's more well-known work and feel as one knows them. And if I end up really liking the songs, I'll probably be inspired to get the full albums later. However, as I was already spending more than I should (although much less than I typically do when I go), I passed on both.
After a bit more searching, I started toward the check-out area. Something steered me to the new CDs section and the V area. Finding the Velvet Underground tab, I noticed that the first album was only $2 more than used (making the used one not a good deal). The second album was not to be found. I did find a different "Best Of" CD (which had more tracks than the aforementioned Millennium Collection, and no live tracks), and a more comprehensive retrospective two-disc collection (which was about twice as much as the "Best Of" one).
I hemmed and hawed a bit (figuratively speaking), and finally decided to get the "Best Of" from the new section; it was a compromise of having a decent number of tracks but without being more than I should spend. Which means I was succumbing to having just that smattering of their better-known material, resigning myself to only that dilettante-level familiarity.
Which means I'll probably later wish I got the two-disc collection.
Anyway, although I declared the performance at the VMAs to be entirely non-promotional, it did succeed in making a sale for Lou's old band.
What didn't even occur to me as I patrolled the used aisles, however, was to see if the Raconteurs CD was available (and I suspect it would have been). My girlfriend probably would have really liked that. But apparently I sped through the R's too quickly, and the only aspect of their performance that stuck with me was whose song they did, not who was doing it.
Perhaps when one of the Raconteurs songs is performed at the VMAs in 36 years and I go to a store I'll remember to pick up their album.
Last week I went to the Amoeba store in Hollywood to seek out the new Buzzcocks album. (Sure, it would have been better to have procured that disc before I saw them in concert last month, but it didn't work out that way.) However, I cannot go to that store and simply find one thing, pay for it, and leave; CD shopping is always an activity of significance, not a mere task.
Thus, while I did find the new disc from Pete and Steve and the guys (even found a used copy to save a few bucks), in the abbreviated version of shopping I did (I could not afford a serious trip)—which was about an hour in the store—I went up and down the used rock CD aisles, just glancing left and right to see what artist names on the tabs caught my eye; it was hardly a thorough search, and even when I did stop and look through the CDs available for a given artist, I restricted consideration to discs marked $6.99 or less. (That still permitted discs by Black Flag, Gomez, Neko Case, Uncle Tupelo, as well as two other Buzzcocks discs.)
No doubt thanks to seeing Jack White and the guys with Lou Reed, as I patrolled the used CDs I was inspired to seek out the tab for the Velvet Underground, and there was a copy of their first album (with the banana on the cover) and the meager Millennium Collection (a "greatest hits" collection). The song performed at the VMAs ("White Light, White Heat"), from their second album, was on the "hits" CD, but I wasn't sure I wanted that; it seems kind of half-assed to just listen to a smattering of an artist's more well-known work and feel as one knows them. And if I end up really liking the songs, I'll probably be inspired to get the full albums later. However, as I was already spending more than I should (although much less than I typically do when I go), I passed on both.
After a bit more searching, I started toward the check-out area. Something steered me to the new CDs section and the V area. Finding the Velvet Underground tab, I noticed that the first album was only $2 more than used (making the used one not a good deal). The second album was not to be found. I did find a different "Best Of" CD (which had more tracks than the aforementioned Millennium Collection, and no live tracks), and a more comprehensive retrospective two-disc collection (which was about twice as much as the "Best Of" one).
I hemmed and hawed a bit (figuratively speaking), and finally decided to get the "Best Of" from the new section; it was a compromise of having a decent number of tracks but without being more than I should spend. Which means I was succumbing to having just that smattering of their better-known material, resigning myself to only that dilettante-level familiarity.
Which means I'll probably later wish I got the two-disc collection.
Anyway, although I declared the performance at the VMAs to be entirely non-promotional, it did succeed in making a sale for Lou's old band.
What didn't even occur to me as I patrolled the used aisles, however, was to see if the Raconteurs CD was available (and I suspect it would have been). My girlfriend probably would have really liked that. But apparently I sped through the R's too quickly, and the only aspect of their performance that stuck with me was whose song they did, not who was doing it.
Perhaps when one of the Raconteurs songs is performed at the VMAs in 36 years and I go to a store I'll remember to pick up their album.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Phases of the Bowl
As summer's days draw closer to succumbing to autumn, I'll take this time to reflect (photographically speaking) on the many times this season that found my girlfriend and me at the Hollywood Bowl, presented in some modicum of sequential order that approximates an evening's experience.
Dvorak's Ninth Symphony, July 13, 7:02 pm
On the left, in the early evening, the green of the hills behind the Bowl are still easily seen as the orchestra is warming up.
7:03 pm
On the right, here's the same thing, just with a different exposure, so it looks much later, and the Hollywood sign is clearer in the background.
Uh, let's move on...
AR Rahman at "Bollywood Night", July 16, 7:34 pm
On the left we move a bit later in the evening, with the colored lights illuminating the inside of the shell.
Fantasia with fireworks (obviously), August 18, 9:47 pm
To the right we see what happens at some performances near the conclusion of the show: fireworks shoot from the top of the shell, distracting the audience from the orchestra.
10:10 pm
Back to the left, the show is over, the orchestra has left the stage, and we're shuffling our way out with the crowds. But here's a different angle on the shell (through the trees on the side farthest from the entrance).
(Not included here because it got its own entry last month, but which you can review by clicking here: Al Green.)
Dvorak's Ninth Symphony, July 13, 7:02 pmOn the left, in the early evening, the green of the hills behind the Bowl are still easily seen as the orchestra is warming up.
7:03 pm
On the right, here's the same thing, just with a different exposure, so it looks much later, and the Hollywood sign is clearer in the background.
Uh, let's move on...
AR Rahman at "Bollywood Night", July 16, 7:34 pm
On the left we move a bit later in the evening, with the colored lights illuminating the inside of the shell.
Fantasia with fireworks (obviously), August 18, 9:47 pm
To the right we see what happens at some performances near the conclusion of the show: fireworks shoot from the top of the shell, distracting the audience from the orchestra.
10:10 pm
Back to the left, the show is over, the orchestra has left the stage, and we're shuffling our way out with the crowds. But here's a different angle on the shell (through the trees on the side farthest from the entrance).
(Not included here because it got its own entry last month, but which you can review by clicking here: Al Green.)
Monday, September 11, 2006
1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-__-10-__-12
[I didn't plan on writing about this, but what else could be posted today?]
Damn bin Laden. Not merely because of what he planned and executed five years ago, but because of when he executed it. We can't think of this date inconspicuously ever again.
I suppose, if we take as a given that the terrorists were determined to carry out their insidious plot and that they were crafty enough to succeed (or the government was too inept to stop them), that some day would have become the day of infamous reference. It just turned out to be September 11th.
Had the attacks occurred, say, May 3rd, 2001, I don't imagine the last five years would have been the same in regards to how referencing the date--"9/11"--came to be used. For example, I just don't envision the administration mentioning "5/3" ("five-three") with the same efficacy as "nine-eleven" and it's a simple matter of meter.
Think of the sound of "nine-eleven," with its accented syllable followed by an unaccented one followed by another accented one and closing on another unaccented one ("trochaic" meter, for what it's worth). "Five-three" (beyond sounding like describing the height of a not particularly tall person) is simply two accented syllables, and two syllables cannot carry the same impact as four for this usage. (Two work better for insults, epithets, profane exclamations, etc.)
Even "May 3rd" is only two syllables; "September 11th" is six, and although the first three don't follow the trochaic pattern (it shifts to iambic meter, with the second, fourth, and last syllables accented), it has a flow when spoken that "May 3rd" never could. There's just something about more syllables that grants power to the words when invoked in the reverent (and somewhat exploitative) context that "9/11" came to be used.
I'm not suggesting bin Laden ruminated on how the sound of the way the day would be pronounced in English was a factor in deciding when to coordinate the attacks. It's undoubtedly an abjectly fortuitous coincidence for those who use the term (particularly those who, for the lack of a better term, do so for their benefit. As disgusting as it is to say, to think no one has benefited from the attacks strikes me as overly naïve).
I'm sure some would think me the most depraved person in this country for considering such matters of semantics in regards to a day five years ago when thousands of people died. But I'm not talking about the events of the day; there's nothing more to be said about those than they were horrible.
I must make clear I didn't know anyone who died in the attacks. The closest I can get is I think I may know someone who knew someone, but even that is not the same as actually knowing a victim of the attacks. The more direct effect on me came later, and has been happening every day since, but the commemoration of the day it happened does not have the same impact on me as it does on those who were there, or who lost someone they knew. It just doesn't.
In my opinion, it insults those people who did lose someone to suggest it could be the same for me. I can, at best, try to imagine how I would feel if it had been someone I knew who died in the attacks, or how horrific to be someone trapped in the upper floors of the towers before they collapsed, but that's pretending when it comes down to it. It's empathetic, and that's worthwhile, but it's not the same. It's not fair for me to presume my empathy is as real as what they went through (and continue to go through).
I'm not putting myself in that position. I'm thinking about something else. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism to protect my emotions from what it would be like to contemplate the awful, by being academic and distant. My reaction may differ from that of others, but it is what it is; if I am a monster because of being somewhat analytical, pretending to have a different reaction would only hide that, not make me less of a monster.
What is not up for debate is that the media ensures it is practically not permitted to think about anything else today. Considering any other topic on this day each year will not be allowed for many decades. Perhaps that's exactly as it should be, honoring those who died; perhaps it's an oppressive sorrow that contibutes to keeping people in fear. Maybe all of the above, and maybe it should be all of the above.
After five years of thinking about it, today what I thought (for better or for worse) was how the sound of the specific words "nine" followed by "eleven" have a power they never had five years and one day ago, and how they will never be simple numbers ever again.
Damn bin Laden.
Damn bin Laden. Not merely because of what he planned and executed five years ago, but because of when he executed it. We can't think of this date inconspicuously ever again.
I suppose, if we take as a given that the terrorists were determined to carry out their insidious plot and that they were crafty enough to succeed (or the government was too inept to stop them), that some day would have become the day of infamous reference. It just turned out to be September 11th.
Had the attacks occurred, say, May 3rd, 2001, I don't imagine the last five years would have been the same in regards to how referencing the date--"9/11"--came to be used. For example, I just don't envision the administration mentioning "5/3" ("five-three") with the same efficacy as "nine-eleven" and it's a simple matter of meter.
Think of the sound of "nine-eleven," with its accented syllable followed by an unaccented one followed by another accented one and closing on another unaccented one ("trochaic" meter, for what it's worth). "Five-three" (beyond sounding like describing the height of a not particularly tall person) is simply two accented syllables, and two syllables cannot carry the same impact as four for this usage. (Two work better for insults, epithets, profane exclamations, etc.)
Even "May 3rd" is only two syllables; "September 11th" is six, and although the first three don't follow the trochaic pattern (it shifts to iambic meter, with the second, fourth, and last syllables accented), it has a flow when spoken that "May 3rd" never could. There's just something about more syllables that grants power to the words when invoked in the reverent (and somewhat exploitative) context that "9/11" came to be used.
I'm not suggesting bin Laden ruminated on how the sound of the way the day would be pronounced in English was a factor in deciding when to coordinate the attacks. It's undoubtedly an abjectly fortuitous coincidence for those who use the term (particularly those who, for the lack of a better term, do so for their benefit. As disgusting as it is to say, to think no one has benefited from the attacks strikes me as overly naïve).
I'm sure some would think me the most depraved person in this country for considering such matters of semantics in regards to a day five years ago when thousands of people died. But I'm not talking about the events of the day; there's nothing more to be said about those than they were horrible.
I must make clear I didn't know anyone who died in the attacks. The closest I can get is I think I may know someone who knew someone, but even that is not the same as actually knowing a victim of the attacks. The more direct effect on me came later, and has been happening every day since, but the commemoration of the day it happened does not have the same impact on me as it does on those who were there, or who lost someone they knew. It just doesn't.
In my opinion, it insults those people who did lose someone to suggest it could be the same for me. I can, at best, try to imagine how I would feel if it had been someone I knew who died in the attacks, or how horrific to be someone trapped in the upper floors of the towers before they collapsed, but that's pretending when it comes down to it. It's empathetic, and that's worthwhile, but it's not the same. It's not fair for me to presume my empathy is as real as what they went through (and continue to go through).
I'm not putting myself in that position. I'm thinking about something else. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism to protect my emotions from what it would be like to contemplate the awful, by being academic and distant. My reaction may differ from that of others, but it is what it is; if I am a monster because of being somewhat analytical, pretending to have a different reaction would only hide that, not make me less of a monster.
What is not up for debate is that the media ensures it is practically not permitted to think about anything else today. Considering any other topic on this day each year will not be allowed for many decades. Perhaps that's exactly as it should be, honoring those who died; perhaps it's an oppressive sorrow that contibutes to keeping people in fear. Maybe all of the above, and maybe it should be all of the above.
After five years of thinking about it, today what I thought (for better or for worse) was how the sound of the specific words "nine" followed by "eleven" have a power they never had five years and one day ago, and how they will never be simple numbers ever again.
Damn bin Laden.
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