Popthomology

I MADE YOU A CHILDREN'S MAZE GAME NOT FOR CHILDREN: "TRIP THROUGH ACIDLAND"

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Wed, 19 Jun 2013 07:23:00 +0000

(Click to enlarge game. Please to enjoy, man!)

THE SUPERMARKET SUSHI EATER'S PRAYER

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 05:33:00 +0000

Our Supermarket Sushi, which art in Safeway,
Aiight be thy Name.
Thy Sushi Chefs come.
Thy California Rolls be done in the deli
As it is in a OK restaurant.
Give us this day our daily soy sauce packets
And forgive us our culinary compromises,
As we forgive them that undercook rice against us.
And lead us not into the Kung Pao Chicken,
But deliver us from microbial infections.
For thine is the convenience,

The limited-selection, and the gyozas,

For Tuesdays and sometimes Fridays,

アーメン.

DADDY'S SONG

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Mon, 17 Jun 2013 00:10:00 +0000

I was almost finished with elementary school by the time I met a friend who had divorced parents. I know this must seem very weird in today's world where more marriages cease than continue, but it's true -- in my small-town Midwestern universe, every kid I knew had a mom and a dad that were married. Divorce was rarely talked about, considered an "adult" topic only, shameful and scandalous, with the divorced man seemingly a new middle-aged playboy-on-the-loose, and the divorced woman damaged goods, a failure. These were the post-Pill, but pre-Roe v. Wade days when all advocates of equal rights for women were still seen as strident, over-educated threats to the American way of life, and there were almost no good job opportunities or protections for women. Many women endured terrible domestic situations because they could see no way out for themselves and their children. Many men endured the same, because the social shame and career implications of divorce were too costly. And no one talked about it.

So it was quite the novelty for me at 11 years old to find myself with a best friend whose parents were divorced, her young mother with full custody of all three of the kids, my friend the oldest. Of course, I was curious about the dad and asked a lot of questions at first. Where is your dad? He lives in Florida with his girlfriend and her kids. Do you ever see him? Yes, we are going down there to visit soon It's going to be so cool because he said we are going to the beach and on a boat and their house has a pool, too! We get our own rooms with bunk beds and get to pick out new decorations! Why did your parents get divorced? They fought all the time. Ohhhhh, I said, fascinated by this exotic arrangement of family. It was obvious by the way my friend and her siblings spoke about their dad that they loved him, were proud of the work he did, and desperately wanted to spend time with him.

Over the next six years, their two-bedroom apartment was my second home. I was always welcomed, and treated like family. I was there a lot, so I was able to see with heartbreaking, slow-motion detail what it looked like as three great kids were abandoned by their father. It started with money. My friend's mom worked 50-60 hours a week at a clerical job, which at the time probably didn't pay more than two bucks an hour. It wasn't enough, but almost immediately the child support checks stopped coming. There were furious phone calls at night, or a phone never answered, bills stacked on the kitchen table, unopened. Using the car was luxury, doctor visits merited for only the most severe illnesses, and sometimes the food they shared with me wasn't enough to feed two people, much less five. The father called maybe a couple times a year and talked to the kids, and then that stopped, too. No birthday presents. No cards. No knowing that my friend was a hard-worker who made great grades and whom everyone loved for her sunny optimism, or that her brother was hilarious and handsome, or that her little sister was sharp and sweet and so lovable.

My friend and her brother and sister never spoke ill of their father. They just, over time, stopped talking about him at all.

I remember when my friend developed a terrible cough that went on for weeks, around the time she was 15 or so. She looked awful, gray and puffy, and wasn't acting like her usual vibrant self. Her mouth was always stained cherry-red from Halls Cough Drops. When she started dropping a lot of weight, I got scared. You have to go to the doctor! Oh no, no, I'm sure I will be fine, it's just a cold, it's getting better. I knew what she was doing, because I had seen her do it so many times: she didn't want to worry her already-stressed-to-the-max mother by throwing one more huge bill on the kitchen table pile. Eventually, her mother insisted and took her to the pediatrician. It was strep. If you've ever had strep, you know the pain of it can be almost unbearable. She got the antibiotics she needed, and started to look like her old self again in a month or so.

It is today, on Father's Day, that I wonder if my friend's father knew that if he had sent those child support checks, and if he had been at all involved in his children's lives, my friend wouldn't have waited too long to see a doctor, in fear that her family might get evicted or the car repossessed or have nothing to eat for days. But she did wait too long, and the strep badly damaged her heart. She died of multiple organ failure in her 40s.

In her honor, I make a request. No matter how you feel about your ex, no matter if you are struggling financially, no matter if you have a new spouse that doesn't want old baggage, no matter if you feel awkward or shut out or frustrated, please please please please...be there for your children. Do everything you can to do the right thing, and don't give up even if you falter or it's been a long time since you've contacted them, or you fear maybe they are better off without you. Just hang in there with them. Because even if my friend's dad had not a dime to his name, at least maybe he could have held her hand in the hospital, told her he was proud of her and that she was precious and perfect as she was, before she slipped away.

Goddamn that man for making my beautiful friend feel unloved.

Harry Nilsson, "Daddy's Song"

Years ago, I knew a man
He was my mother's biggest fan
We used to walk beside the sea
And he told me how life would be
When I grew up to be a man

Years ago, we used to play
He used to laugh when I ran away
And when I fell and hurt my knee
He would run to comfort me
And the pain would go away
Years ago, I knew a boy
He was his daddy's pride and joy, pride and joy
But when the daddy went away
It was such a rainy day
That he brought out all his toys

And how the mother did explain
Trying to take away the pain
But, he just couldn't understand
That his father was not a man
And it all was just a game

The years have passed and so have I
Making it hard for me to cry
But if we wanna have a son
Let it all be said and done
Let the sadness pass him by

FIVE OF THE WORST JOBS IN AMERICA, AS PERFORMED BY MICK JAGGER

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Sun, 16 Jun 2013 07:26:00 +0000

1. Roofer

2. Poultry Inspector

3. Dairy Farmer

4. Lumberjack

5. Escort Service Worker.

NANOFICTION: DEATH VS. THE GUITARIST

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 06:22:00 +0000

(Nanofiction is a story exactly 55 words in length.)

TWANGGGGGGG!

The musician angrily thrust off his guitar, motioning impatiently for it to be grabbed and fixed by one of those shadowy, scurrying figures in black at the side of the stage.

“I broke a string!” he spat.

“Aaaaannnnd…a stroke I bring,” the Grim Reaper pleasantly replied, as his bony fingers gripped the guitar’s neck.

A SPAM EMAIL ASKS ME QUESTIONS AND I ANSWER THEM

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Fri, 14 Jun 2013 05:24:00 +0000

Has anything ever bothered you in life?
-- Never.

Do you have any problem you need to solve?
-- 99 of them, in fact.

A pending court case you want to resolve in your favor?
-- I've retained a wild-haired wizard riding a glitter unicorn, thanks.

Health, relationship and finance.
-- This is not a question or even a sentence.

Welcome to the world of miracles and wonders, there are supernatural treasure and power to liberate mankind from all afflictions.
-- How do Miracle Whip and Wonderbras fit into this utopia?

Why cant you live a life of your dream?
-- Because people cannot spontaneously hover.

Why must you work so hard and yet earn so little?
-- Because I am not a capitalist overlord.

Why cant you be happy with the one you love and desire or why cant the one you love reciprocate and appreciate that love?
-- Because then no one would write songs anymore.

Why would the doctor tell you there is no solution or cure to your problems?
-- Lack of Big Pharma kickback?

Why would your lawyer say you stand no chance, that your case is hopeless?
-- Because it won't result in a multi-million dollar class action suit that would assure a comfortable early retirement for the litigators.

Have you been cheated by anyone or those owing you money refuse to pay back?
-- Like I have money to lend, lol, buddy.

Do you need a rapid job promotion in your place of work?
-- Doesn't that lead to rapid heart attacks?

You want to venture into politics?
-- Doesn't that lead to rapid heart attacks?

Now I understand certain things are hard to believe and comprehend, but all I ask from you is only 7 days and if you will follow my instructions and use the items you will receive, I promise your life will never be the same again.
-- Only in that I would be out quite a bit of money and have the word "SUCKER" tattooed on my forehead, yes?

If you find no relevance in the help I offer I solemnly appeals do not be vindictive and go in peace.
-- Wow, you don't know me very well!

And if your intentions are to take advantage of the powerful nature of our items for the purpose of evil, I will not have any business with you please be advised.
-- Oh, you're no fun anymore.

May angels guide you.
-- May they guide you too, spammer...right into a flaming river of diarrhea. Good day, sir!

WORST SADFEST AUTOTUNE EVER? "GOODBYE" BY D4NNY

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Thu, 13 Jun 2013 06:47:00 +0000

AWWWW, MAN, HERE WE GO!

If I believed in hell, I'd sure be thinking I'd be going there because I've been laughing over this poor Indian kid's terrible autotuned and rather anemic pity party video for like 30 minutes now. AHAHAHA! Aw. HAHA! AWW. Please to EEeeNNnnJJjOOoyyY!

D4NNY, "Goodbye"

I MADE YOU A BIBLE CARTOON

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Wed, 12 Jun 2013 07:02:00 +0000

HOW TO SAY "I LOVE YOU" TO YOUR KIDS WITHOUT GOING BROKE

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Tue, 11 Jun 2013 06:23:00 +0000

It's not so great sometimes to be mired in the Consumer Age in the midst of a widening wealth distribution skew crisis. The poor are getting poorer, the middle class are getting poor, the upper middle class is slipping into middle class (which is getting poor), and then there's the 400 dudes in America who have all the real money. But the pressure to BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE never stops. The thing that drove the economy skyward and made it possible for more people than ever to live comfortable, safe, and healthy lives with unprecedented opportunities is the very thing that will take it all away. Let us recall: the end goal in capitalism -- the entire point of the system -- is to grow business, to at all times strive to be bigger and better than the competition while always lowering your costs and raising your prices. To succeed at this means driving your competitors out of business, getting your own employees to work for as little money and benefits as possible, using the least-expensive materials you can get away with, all in order to raise profits for yourself and your shareholders. That's just plain reality, and that's why we are where we are now. Any kind of plans to bring relief to the millions in our country who work so hard but were Big Fish-ed out of the pond are met by outraged, bug-eyed cries of "Socialism! Communism! NEVER!" and almost always from people who don't realize they are flopping and gasping on the shore like everyone else.

Our kids really don't much care about the merits or failures of economic and political systems. All they know is that Sophie has a $400 animatronic pony, Jake has an Xbox 360 and 50 games for it, and WHY CAN'T THEY HAVE WHAT EVERY OTHER KID HAS, WAAAA! Should you buy a $400 plastic creepy pony because your cute big-eyed spawn wants one SO MUCH, even when you have no idea how you are going to pay the phone bill next month? Logical Parent says no, but so often Sentimental Parent overrides, the pony is purchased, and the bills get larger and the anxiety worse and worse. Sophie and Jake and all their friends all have the same glut of stuff, even though some of their parents absolutely cannot afford the indulgence. Why?

Because the Consumer Age, your culture, has conditioned you to equate LOVE with MONEY and STUFF, and you CANNOT SAY NO.

We're all guilty of falling for that crap, and especially when it pleases us to see our kids so happy to be playing with their new toys. But take a look at your credit card. Think about your job "security." Look at the masses of THINGS your kids already have. What are you teaching them when you buy them things that you cannot afford? Answer: To grow up and buy things they cannot afford! All of a sudden that pony doesn't seem like such a great idea, huh? So what on earth is a parent torn between wanting to please their beloved children and trying to avoid bankruptcy supposed to do?

Grow up. If you are providing your children with good food, a safe and warm place to live, the best educational and cultural opportunities you have available to you, regular health care, and lots of smiles, hugs, attention, patience, and listening skills, you are WINNING AT PARENTING ALREADY. A grown-up knows how to prioritize resources in order to build and maintain a stable family foundation. A grown-up knows that modeling responsible behavior produces responsible behavior (eventually). A grown-up knows that all the money in the world doesn't buy good character or assure personal happiness in anyone. Sometimes you are going to have to say no, and deal with the disappointment, anger, and frustration that might arise from your denied child. That's part of your job.

But it's not all gloomy, I totally promise. Jake might not be able to be first in line to purchase "Blowing Guys Up, Vol. XII" for his Xbox, but maybe you can work with him on a plan to save up for a copy (or just rent it for a week until he's tired of it, hint hint). You might be surprised to find that Sophie would be equally-thrilled with a ten-dollar retro stick pony that she can plaster with stickers and glitter and attach jingle bells to the reins. Here's another fact: the thing that your kids want the most is your TIME and ATTENTION. Yes, even older kids; don't let their teen 'tudes dissuade you. Start doing things rather than buying things. Play a silly board game. Go to a busy park with some sketch pads and pens and draw the people and dogs, and compare your (probably very funny) results. Look up how to make homemade ice cream. Watch old movies and have a popcorn-mouth-catch contest. Wash the dog together. Be workout buddies. Plan a bake sake and give the proceeds to your kid's favorite charity. Save loose change until you can afford to all take a "mental health day" off from school and work and go to the beach or the mountains. Take what you have in abundance -- love -- and turn it into experiences that will be remembered with the warmest hearts, decades after toys will be no longer wanted and mostly forgotten.

This change in the way you do business isn't easy, but it can happen. Your kids are more resilient than you think, and for all the complaining they will do that they don't have all the STUFF, they are going to one day be very proud of you for helping them to learn how to be more patient, more responsible, more creative, and less tied to things that are, well, only things, because you will show them how to do it in REAL TIME, as you develop yourself into a better person, too. And that's priceless.

IPHONE PHOTO ROUNDUP: MELLOW YELLOW, A SUMMERTIME ART PARTY, SEVEN HILLS PARK, SEATTLE, WA. 6/8/13

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Mon, 10 Jun 2013 04:11:00 +0000

Ingredients:

One (1) perfectly-pleasant Seattle Sunday afternoon in early June (NO RAIN ALLOWED)
One (1) modest but fully-funded Kickstarter campaign
One (1) great idea

Combine ingredients in tiny Capitol Hill-area park after application of city permit. Shake modest-but-fully-funded Kickstarter campaign funds over ingredients; mix liberally with art, artists, food, fun, music, musicians, freaks, sweets, local dogwalkers and stroller-pushers and ambling elders and cartwheeling kiddies, plus a piñata finale until fully MELLOW YELLOW. Serve from 1PM - 7PM.

And there we have some of what went into the very first Mellow Yellow: A Summertime Art Party, organized by my lovely friend Amelia Bonow and other cool catz. Here is the cute video Amelia made for the Kickstarter:

MELLOW YELLOW

When I saw this I thought, well YES, this is gonna be awesome because all the folks doing it are awesome and fun, and YES OF COURSE, imma gonna go, and HEY!!! I should see if Miss Ten could join in and do some art! Amelia thought that was a good thing indeed, so we got some new paints and canvases and headed over today! It was mellow, the sunshine was yellow, and we had a lovely time! M10 did her painting-on-demand thing, and some people left with their own portraits, a unicorn, a sleeping kitty, a bright red flower, zebra stripes, and more. I brought a collection of the weirdo knick-knacks I've been finding at thrift stores. I stuck by M10 most of the time to assist her as she needed, but did one quick walk-around and took a few photos. Please to enjoy!

Me: What are the three things you liked best about today!

Miss Ten: The dogs. The people. And painting!

Thank you so much to Amelia and everyone else who was so kind and supportive to my kid who loves to ART. We loved seeing everyone's creative spirits. LET'S DO IT AGAIN!

MELLLLLLLLLLOWWWWWWWWW!

PHOTOS & SHOW REVIEW: MIKAL CRONIN & SHANNON AND THE CLAMS @ TRACTOR TAVERN, SEATTLE, WA. 6/7/13

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Sun, 09 Jun 2013 07:16:00 +0000

Do you know how excited I was to see Mikal Cronin play here in Seattle last night? VERY MUCH, I WAS. I had waited with great patience since seeing him perform his own material on 2012's Bruise Cruise, when I was so super-thrilled that I went up to the pleasant, shaggy-haired lad afterwards and babbled my enthusiasm in what I suspect was a particularly froth-mouthed, googly-eyed way. Do you know WHY I was so excited? Because I was thinking, man, this guy is a marvelous songwriter and things are going to go very well for him...if only enough people know about him. "Come to Seattle!" I implored him, "I will bring everyone I know! I will...I dunno, bake a cake! Anything!" Bless his little Cronin heart that he didn't have the red-haired photographer woman tossed off the ship into the Atlantic for over-fan-ing.

Actually, I've seen Mikal quite a lot since February 2012 and now -- playing bass for the perpetually-touring Ty Segall, another one of my very-favorites. He and Ty, friends of long-standing, have tremendous chemistry and rapport onstage, mirroring and complementing each other perfectly, which makes for exciting and rock-solid shows. I waited and waited to hear when there would be a follow-up album to Cronin's wonderful self-titled 2011 solo debut, and as the months passed by without much word, I admit, I was gettin' a little worried. But that was silly thinkin', Lincoln, because if I can hear what a talent this dude is, you betcha other people can too. Cronin was signed to indie giant Merge Records, which just released MCII, a sparkling collection of classic pop songs, with enough of that garage rock edge to add spice to the sweet. Cronin has done his songwriting homework (quite literally, as he recently graduated from the California Institute of the Arts with a music degree), yet what he produces sounds amazingly fresh, and not at all studied. Hooks? Tons. Harmonies? Delicious. Melodies? Memorable. Lyrics? Smart and personal. He just knows what goes into making a great song, ones that people want to sing along with and listen to over and over again.

I arrived at the Tractor Tavern in Ballard just as locals Dude York were playing the last notes of their set, late after lingering over dinner at Bastille with my friend Kitty, pardonnez-moi. Before going to the front to shoot, I stopped at the merch table where Mikal was merching, because any touring musician knows: A.B.M. (Always Be Merchin'™, Finberg/Welbourne). I picked up a single, re-introduced myself, and had a nice chat which included me asking him to draw a dog in a party hat on the single. What a cute doggie!

I mentioned that I thought it was really brave to release a prettier, poppier, and more complex album that perhaps people most familiar with him via Segall or his earlier work with in the Moonhearts and other fuzzed-out bands would expect. He nodded. "It's a little scary," he admitted, as he put the finishing touches on the party pup. But that's another thing I like and admire about Cronin -- he made the record that he wanted to make. Many artists in his position would not have had the guts.

I managed to squeeze in to get a good photo spot in the front of the stage as Shannon and the Clams were setting up. I had also seen Shannon Shaw at Bruise Cruise as part of the "garage rock supergroup" The Togas, but had never seen her with her own Clams before, so's I was all stoked. Shannon has one of those gritty, original rock n'roll tough-femme voices -- think Wanda Jackson or Brenda Lee with deeper oomph. The Clams head straight into the stripped-down heart of rock and give it a quad-bypass in the process. There's a little rockabilly, a smidge of doo-wop, a touch of early-'60s girl group, and a commercial-sized dumpster full of raw punk, too. They've just put out a new album on Seattle-based Hardly Art called "Dreams in the Rat House," so check it out!

(As always, click on the photos to enlarge and click on the Flickr set link for more photos!)

Shannon and the Clams Tractor Tavern Flickr set

What can I say without going further into full froth mode again?? Mikal Cronin and bandmates just ROCKED! The wait was more than worth it, and the band delivered a joyous set that had everyone (including me) dancing and singing along the whole time. YouTube uploader Thomas Bombach recorded this, "Weight," from MCII! Dude musta been exactly to my left. Thanks, Thomas!

Mikal Cronin, "Weight," Tractor Tavern, Seattle, WA. 6/7/13

Here are some of mah photos! Oh mah gosh, I had so much fun! I had to stop singing and dancing to take these. Briefly!

Mikal Cronin Tractor Tavern Flickr link

Thank you so much Michelle Cable at Panache Booking, Tractor Tavern, Kitty Page Amsbry, Shannon and the Clams, and Mikal Cronin and band! Come back sooner!!!

THE STRANGEST BEATLES COVER BAND YOU MIGHT EVER SEE: THE BEENS IN CONCERT ON A JAPANESE ROOFTOP!

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Sat, 08 Jun 2013 00:35:00 +0000

There is something very, very, very, very...different about Japanese culture, shall we agree? I see this difference most often in relation to music. I tell you what: there is no pop music fan more HARDCORE than a Japanese pop music fan, not in the whole wide world. I love them.

An example of this devotion that I bring to you today is of a Japanese Beatles cover band called The Beens that decided to completely recreate The Beatles' famous January, 1969 London rooftop gig featured in their swan song film, "Let It Be." The intent is noble, the execution...well, let's say that there are some very interesting wigs and facial hair, Japanese Billy Preston, a Yoko stand-in, and maybe not the best English elocution ever. But HOW GREAT! We need MORE of this!

The Beens, "Get Back"

TEN MORE WEIRD RECORD COVERS FROM THE VALUE VILLAGE THRIFT SHOP IN WOODINVILLE, WA.!

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Fri, 07 Jun 2013 06:40:00 +0000

It doesn't matter where I am, in what state or what town...if there are bizarre old albums around, I WILL FIND THEM! Here's today's lot from VV! Please to enjoy!

Let's just start right off with a bang here. Wow, sir...just so WOW.

Mel is all, lookee me, I wished on the moon and got this FINE-ASS outfit!

The mutton chop photobomb here is excellent work.

Well, OK, I guess it feels so good to have your shirt off on your record cover (ala Herbie Mann) but try to at least look happy about it. I blame Bob James on his subpar arrangement of good feeling.

So much win here...plaid jacket, wide tie, toilet paper handkerchief, flute, psychedelic mountains, giant mutant flowers. YOU CANNOT DEAL.

I Am...

(stereo)

Once upon a time, there were two men in blue leisure suits and cop 'stache/Grizzly Adams facial hair. They were happy, sure, but something was missing...

One day the two men found Dave, who had a cop 'stache and granny glasses. Their family was now complete! Although Dave only got 5% royalties because he was only "with" and not "and." Mark has apparently signed this album to Dave (and me?) telling him to look for his note on the other album. It's SO not there, people. So not there.

Would the follow-up album to this be "Jail & Hangover?"

And finally, seeing this just gives me good reason to post this video.

Shrimp On A Treadmill w/ The Final Countdown!

CROSSING THE GLASS: HOW FEAR PROTECTS YOU...AND RUINS YOUR LIFE

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Wed, 05 Jun 2013 05:40:00 +0000

My very favorite book from my childhood was a volume from the LIFE Science Library called "The Mind," published in 1964. I cannot even estimate the hours I spent reading and re-reading this. It's really, really INTERESTING! There really isn't anything cooler than the human mind.

As I look through the book now (YES, I still have it!), I realize what a huge influence it had upon me, and was surely the foundation in my decision to eventually get a REEL COLEGE SKOOL degree in psychology. Scoff at my liberal arts-iness, my professional friends, go ahead! When you have a better understanding of why people do what they do, you aren't as flummoxed by the capriciousness of human behavior -- including your own. Understanding also, with practice and patience, builds compassion and empathy, qualities sorely needed in this weird old world.

Anyway, one of the entries in the book featured a full-page photo of an infant sitting on a large piece of glass suspended several feet off the ground. He is freaking out and looks extremely miserable. It's a famous bit of psychology, answering the question "at what point in development does a baby perceive something to be threatening, causing a fear response?" Pretty darn early, actually -- well before the first birthday. Prior to this development, you can sit a baby on the glass and they will be happy as a lil' clam, playing and crawling back and forth. After, they scream, cry, freeze in terror, or refuse to get on the glass at all. They now understand that by all known logic, they should now be falling a long way, and that is bad, bad, bad. It takes a bit longer for them to understand what the deal is about glass.

The development of fear is vital to our survival. Imagine if Cavey McKnuckledragger never developed a fear response -- he would have been eaten by proto-wolves or bat-tigers or something and you and I wouldn't be having this friendly Internet moment right now. But Cavey worked it all out, and learned to avoid life-threatening situations, at least long enough to procreate. The fear response, at the very beginning, is intuitive. The baby on the glass? How does he figure out that he should be freakin'? He probably hasn't even taken a fall of any kind yet in his short life (we hope). But his mind is a giant, grand thing, and it's forming connections faster than you can flip the channel off of FOX NEWS (we hope). Babies falling from high things is no good at all, says the tiny brain to Glass Baby, and you should really start crying to get someone to help you right about now, bud. Brain has protected Baby even before baby knows he has a brain. We need to feel fear to be able to navigate life's perils.

Ah, but you know what's coming next. Fear is also our worst enemy. It often grows within us unchecked, forming deep roots inside our minds, strangling rational thought or obscuring our hopes and dreams for ourselves or our loved ones. It can manifest as blatantly as a full-on wild phobia or as subtle as a completely-competent person turning down a great opportunity because of a lack of confidence. In so many ways, we are fearful over things that we shouldn't be, and our lives are lessened because of it.

We fear rejection. We fear failure. We fear success. We fear being laughed at or shamed. We fear not being liked. We fear being alone. We fear commitment. We fear what people might say about us behind our backs. We fear knowing. We fear ignorance. We fear giving everything and losing it all. We fear the illness we don't even have. We fear not fitting in. We fear never standing out in a crowd. We fear having to choose. We fear having no options. We worry and worry and fret and fret and guess WHAT?

Almost all of that is for NOTHING. It is a total WASTE. How much have you NOT DONE or NOT EVEN TRIED because of some kind of social fear? You have one life, and it's done very quickly. I congratulate you on avoiding bat-tigers and living long enough to read this, but just surviving isn't enough. It isn't, and even that freakin' baby knows that. When he gets off that awful glass, you know what he's gonna do? He's going to go back to being a scientist, exploring the world with bountiful curiosity and delight. If he wants something, he'll crawl over to get it or cry to get you to bring it to him. Life is nothing but this amazing series of discoveries, both pleasant and perturbing, but all of it interesting and awesome. Oh, how quickly it all goes away, curiosity and resiliency replaced by worry, fear, and doubt.

How to respect the fear we must have to survive and how to smash the fear that is detrimental to our happiness and fulfillment is one of the biggest tasks we have as human beings. We must judge whether danger is real or just an illusion, which takes great determination, motivation, and honesty. Sometimes crossing the glass is the only way to get to where you need to be.

MOVIE REVIEW: "TWENTY FEET FROM STARDOM" - SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL, EGYPTIAN THEATER, SEATTLE, WA. 6/2/13

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Tue, 04 Jun 2013 05:53:00 +0000

The complexities surrounding the concept of fame -- motivations, attainment or lack of it, consequences of either outcome -- is a topic that forever fascinates me. As someone who is peripherally attached to the music business via photography, I've been able to observe the careers of many musical artists over time, followed their triumphs and frustrations, and have often been able to see something of their off-stage lives -- how things are when the stage lights are dimmed, and when there are no adoring fans around and regular life kicks back in. What makes one artist a "success" while another equally-talented one struggles? What is "success," anyway? Money? Adoration? Sales? A door opened to opportunities? Love? Security? Attention? The chance for the world to know what you do best? All of this? I have tumbled these questions around in my mind for most of my life, but am only now beginning to develop answers that feel comprehensive and resonant.

"Twenty Feet From Stardom," an extraordinary, exhilarating documentary from director Morgan Neville, profiles a select group of musicians who have unique insight into every possible permutation of fame. They are the great unknowns of the pop music: the backup singers. If you think that the job of the backup singer is a simple one, merely showing up to do a few la-la-la's and doo-doo-doo's, and that they are likely behind the star because of some kind of a lack...oh my, will you find this movie enlightening! The story told in "Twenty Feet From Stardom" is so much more than an education in what goes into making a timeless recording or a remarkable stage show via the collaboration of star, producer, and supporting musicians -- it is very often parallels mid-century American history itself, and the struggles of race, class, and gender in the midst of rapid cultural change. We are introduced to the best of the best of the backup singers, a lovely variety of vocalists, and most often black American females coming from a lifetime spent singing in a gospel church. The church provided an invaluable training ground that proved perfect for the backup singer, with its call-and-response hymn traditions, the need to blend in harmonically with others, and the opportunity to shine in an unrestrained, joyous solo as well.

The film spends the most time with singers Darlene Love, Lisa Fischer, Claudia Lennear, Tata Vega, Judith Hill, and Merry Clayton. If you don't recognize their names, within the first few minutes of the film you will definitely recognize all of the hits they sang on: "He's A Rebel," "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)," "Sweet Home Alabama," "Feelin' Alright," ""How Can I Ease The Pain," "Miss Celie's Blues (Sister)" are just a few. I will go so far as to suggest that Merry Clayton's stunning vocal solo on The Rolling Stones' "Gimme Shelter" is maybe, just maybe, the finest moment on a rock n' roll recording, ever. Clayton and Mick Jagger reliving the moment as the track replays decades later in the studio where it was created is a wonderful highlight in the film.

Listening to Lisa Fischer sing might cause one to believe in the existence of angels. Seeing Claudia Lennear segway from shaking her stuff with the Ike and Tina Turner Review, singing at The Concert for Bangladesh, and inspiring songs written by The Rolling Stones and David Bowie, to teaching high school Spanish for a living is poignant. Feeling the strength and enduring spirit of each vocalist, even through some demoralizing turns of fate, is inspiring, with each one coming to a very different conclusion about what fame and success meant to them.

"Twenty Feet From Stardom" Official Trailer

The capacity audience at Seattle's Egyptian Theater responded warmly to the film, clapping, laughing, cheering the successes and redemptions on the screen. What happened after the film finished was breathtaking.

As part of the Seattle International Film Festival's Centerpiece Gala showcasing of "Twenty Feet From Stardom," director Morgan Neville, and vocalists Tata Vega and Merry Clayton took the stage to answer a few questions from the audience. As they walked up, the audience rose to give a standing ovation of several minutes long, visibly touching the hearts of the three. Neville was gracious and generous in his thanks and praise, filled with good humor. A question directed to Vega turned serious and shocking as she shakily recounted a litany of horrors that had befallen her and how grateful she was to be able to tell her story in the film. Clayton, a true diva with a sly grin and larger-than-life presence, reminded the audience that the film was, yes, about the hard times, but its most important value was in remembering that it is a great privilege to have a gift, and to be able to share that with the world...fame or no fame.

At that point, a man in the shadows of the theater yelled out, "Sing!" The crowd laughed and clapped, wondering what would happen. Clayton didn't hesitate more than a fraction of a second before stepping up and belting out a gospel hymn, powerful and perfect, reaching to the very back of the large theater, and then Vega joined in, passionate and just as perfect, bringing us all back to where it began, revival-style. To be able to experience this -- those gifts -- was overwhelming for me, and tears rolled down my face as I stood and cheered them on, not wanting the moment to end. I will never forget it.

Wherever each vocalist landed on the ladder of fame, whatever choices they made to keep climbing it or to step off, "Twenty Feet From Stardom" quietly reminds us that the definition of success is a deeply individual one, and that meaning may not be fully clear to each person until some of the glitter fades. Perhaps success is found most through learning what is truly important in life and what is not, knowing that giving freely the best of what we have and what we are to others, with an open heart, with joy...is the best that anyone can ever do.

"Twenty Feet From Stardom" opens in theaters nation-wide on June 14th. You will love it. GO!

100-WORD MICROFICTION: "EGG SALAD"

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Mon, 03 Jun 2013 03:42:00 +0000

Althea wrinkled her nose and frowned, as she pulled on a deep-rooted weed in the flower bed. Looking towards Bob, who was considering their ongoing aphid problem, she shouted to him over the roar of the Saturday lawnmowers. "Bob! That egg salad you made is off! It stinks all the way out here! Throw it out!"

Bob, puzzled, yelled back, "I didn't make any eg..."

The natural gas blast leveled their home, blew out windows for blocks, and sent Althea and Bob flying skyward. They landed separately in the yards of their two adjacent neighbors, neither of whom they liked.

VIDEO: JULIO, THE DRUNKEN DRUMMER!

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Sat, 01 Jun 2013 06:42:00 +0000

HAHAHAHA! Have you ever seen anyone try to play the drums while horizontal??

JULIO! I LOVE YOU, MAAAAAAAN!!!

Julio, The Drunken Drummer

TODAY'S MUSICAL CONVERSATION WITH MISS TEN

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Fri, 31 May 2013 05:19:00 +0000

(On the way home from school today, Miss Ten and I were listening to the radio, as usual. "There She Goes" by The La's was playing.)

Miss Ten: (singing/humming along with the song, then pausing to speak) Mom? Nobody likes the music I like.

Me: Welcome to my world.

Miss Ten: Huh?

Me: Continue.

Miss Ten: It's so frustrating. I start talking about a song at school and everyone's like, what? They only know pop music. I mean, I like some pop music, but not only pop music.

Me: Well, try not to be too bummed out. You've been raised in a super-music-centric household with lots of weird bands. It's more normal for everyone to listen to what's on regular radio and TV, especially kids your age. There isn't a right or wrong.

Miss Ten: (Boy Classmate) loves the Beatles, though!

Me: See! That's great, right?

Miss Ten: There's one kid who can't listen to anything later than the 1800s.

Me: What? Hahah! Really? Whoa. Hmm.

Miss Ten: Yes! It's like, serious.

Me: Hmm. Maybe the parents think only classical music is good.

Miss Ten: Oh, yeah.

Me: Well, that's up to them. Your friend can listen to whatever later in life. Parents have been unhappy with pop music, well, forever. Some parents. There's sometimes some basis to it. Some stuff is so bad, or the lyrics are very violent or demeaning to women and such. That's not great.

Miss Ten: Well, I know, but not all music says bad stuff.

Me: I think we've talked a lot about how powerful music can be. It can influence your thinking negatively, but not if your foundation is already solid. You have to learn how to think critically about things, question them, think about what the words are trying to say. There's some bad language that's just silly, and some that's nasty. I'm not a fan of songs that use bad words about women.

Miss Ten: Who would be?

Me: Frustrated doofs.

Miss Ten: Haha! Women are great!

Me: Remember at the Flaming Lips shows? Wayne Coyne swears a lot. It bothered you but we talked about it, and then it was OK. He just gets kind of excited. He's not angry.

Miss Ten: Right, he's just WAYNE COYNE!

Me: And you didn't start swearing just because a guy onstage did.

Miss Ten: Nope. And you would be really mad, anyway, if I did.

Me: Yup.

("Step" by Vampire Weekend comes on the radio, and Miss Ten sings and hums along.)

(self-portrait by Miss Ten)

I MADE YOU A COFFEE GIF

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Thu, 30 May 2013 06:18:00 +0000

That is all.

TEN QUOTES FROM "FASCINATING WOMANHOOD" (1963) THAT WILL MAKE YOU LAUGH, CRY, OR BREAK SOMETHING

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Wed, 29 May 2013 05:59:00 +0000

Now that I have a chunk 'o lifetime banked, it's sometimes a good exercise to look back and think about where the world was when I got here, and how it is now. I am often frustrated by the sad lack of progress we've made in 50 years -- the idealistic, youth-driven belief of the 1960s that we would soon be living in a free, equal, and discrimination-free society has not come to full fruition, and likely never will. But when I get really down about the subject, I make myself go back and remember that the America I was born into as a female has indeed changed, and for the better. In the early '60s, girls were still expected to be sweet and submissive, pretty and perfect, and should aspire to no higher goal than snaring a husband ASAP and raising a family. Well, OK, if you wanted to go to junior college for a secretarial course or teach Sunday School or work as a bank teller for a few years, no harm done. But it just wasn't right if a girl or young woman desired something else, and the pressure was constant and omnipresent to conform.

But I was lucky. By the time I was a teenager, highly-effective birth control was widely available to women, freeing a generation of women for the first time to be able to say, nah, think I'm gonna go to grad school, think I'm gonna start a business, think I'm gonna wait awhile before taking on the responsibilities of a family. Gonna have a little ME time, or a whole damn ME life, for that matter -- as men always could. I am endlessly grateful to the generation of women before me who fought so hard and so long for the legal and medical protections that woman always deserved. Because of them, I was able to choose my life, rather than accept my lot.

I was rummaging around in a local antiques mall this weekend, and came across a book that I was unfortunately familiar with, but hadn't thought about in many years: "Fascinating Womanhood" by Helen Andelin, published in 1963. Oh, brother, what a piece of work. Young women of today who have zero idea of how very real repression was back then might pick this up, read a few pages, and think it must be some new publication from The Onion. But it's no joke. "Fascinating Womanhood" sold millions of copies, telling women that their one and only goal in life should be doing whatever it takes to please their husbands -- anything less was a shameful failure. The book inspired the "anti-feminist" movement, which is still going strong today, sadly. Since I would never want you to buy this book, I thought I might pull some quotes from it for you. Pick an emotion and go with it!

1. "Love is not reserved for the young, the single, nor the beautiful. It is reserved for those who arouse it in a man. If a man does not love with his heart and soul, it is entirely the woman's fault."

2. "Within these pages I will point out those principles which she must obey if she is to be happy, loved, and appreciated. My aim is to teach her how to become 'The real woman,' the kind she is designed to be, the kind a man wants."

3. "(This book) will teach you...how to be attractive, even adorable, when you are angry.

4. "(This book will teach you...how to gain true happiness in marriage, while placing the husband's happiness as the primary goal."

5. "If a man is critical, and you are guilty, it is only right to admit it. Thank him for reminding you that you were in error. Man, as your ruler feels somewhat responsible to teach you."

6. "Some very fine men have violent tempers. But if you could understand what he suffers and why, you would be more sympathetic. He doesn't become angry with you without reason. You may have hurt his pride, or trampled on his freedom, or stolen from him his right to rule his own children. Whatever the reason, he is provoked at you and it is a very frustrating feeling."

7. "Remember that by nature you are not capable. If you have any masculine capabilities, you have acquired them unnaturally. God did not create woman for the strenuous masculine responsibilities."

8. "There are some women who laugh in a very unfeminine manner. They open their mouths wide, throw back their heads, close their eyes and roar. If these extremes are avoided the laugh will probably be at least acceptable."

9. "Of course, a great mother could become a great artist. But if such secondary greatness is not added to the which is fundamental, it is merely an empty honor."

10. "A woman need not be well-educated, or possess high intelligence to follow a clever man's discourse. In his pleasure at having himself admired the man seldom notices that his conversation is not understood."

See why I feel like a dodged a bullet? Because this isn't some weirdo fundamentalist chick spewing her wacky idea of patriarchal bliss...this is how things were. Hilarious now, yes, and still scares the living crap out of me.

I only wish that in 1963 my first baby words would have been directed at Helen Andelin, and that those words would have been "EFF YOU."

FIVE HUGE LIFE LESSONS FROM THE FILM "HER AIM IS TRUE," AND THE LIFE OF ROCK PHOTOGRAPHER JINI DELLACCIO

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Tue, 28 May 2013 06:32:00 +0000

What an exciting day it was to be in attendance for the official world premiere of "Her Aim Is True," the feature-length documentary from director Karen Whitehead about rock photographer Jini Dellaccio. Both showings of the film this weekend at the prestigious Seattle International Film Festival were sold out, and SIFF is to be commended for recognizing the special value "Her Aim Is True" has for Pacific Northwest residents, including 96-year-old Jini herself, in attendance both days! As a longtime supporter of this film, I have had the pleasure to watch it take shape from the idea to share Jini's story and incredible art with the world to a finished, fully-realized feature. Look!

Her Aim Is True - Trailer from Karen Whitehead on Vimeo.

I think as you watch the trailer you can get a sense of why Jini's life is a pretty darn cool one to showcase in a film, and it sure is -- she was the first female to extensively photograph rock musicians, both in portraiture and concert settings, and took some of the most iconic images of now-legendary artists. But there is so much more for a viewer to learn by viewing this film. Who Jini Dellaccio is as a person is just as remarkable as her art, and there is great value in just paying attention in "Her Aim Is True" to how she's lived her life. I thought I would make you a list.

1. Do work you love to do, and work at love. I think good ol' Freud got it right when he said that humans needed two things to feel fulfilled in life: "to love and to work." We are never sitting in quite the right place until both things are happening for us; we need to give and receive love to nourish the heart and soul, and we need to produce work that we are proud of to keep our brain happy and engaged. When you like your work, it's easy to want to get better and better at it. When you work at love, feed it and water it like the fragile little bloom that it really is, it will grow and renew itself, and be far more lovely than you could ever imagine. Jini intrinsically knew that by following her passions, she would create things of worth, and was a devoted and still-in-love partner to her husband Carl until his death. Sacrifices were made without reservation or bitterness, support was limitless and genuine, and wonderful things came of it.

2. Be prepared to reinvent yourself multiple times. The days of growing up, finishing school, and getting a nice, stable yet growing career with a single company until retirement-with-pension are gone, gone, gone for good. The single best trait you could ever hope to nurture in yourself or your kids is resiliency -- the ability to bounce back stronger and better despite setbacks, disappointments, changes, and challenges. Jini was faced with complete sea changes so many times in her life, and most people would have been at a loss, lost and living in the past. Instead, when she gave up a 12-year musical career, she found an outlet in art for her creativity and drive. When she had to leave all the connections she had made in one town to move for Carl's work, she dove in and made new ones. She wasn't afraid to start again, or perhaps more accurately, she was able to face that fear and doubt honestly enough to be able to stare it down and deal with it positively.

3. Say yes. This is one of the most delightful aspects to Jini's personality, and her ability to say "yes" to opportunities when they presented themselves, even if she wasn't at all sure if she would succeed, led her to her finest work and deepest connections. How often we say no! No, I could never do that...no, I don't know how...no, I might fail...no, someone might laugh at me...no, I can't. Because Jini more often said "yes," she was able to push out of her comfort zone to grow as an artist and a person.

4. The key to creating the best art is keen observation. It doesn't matter what the genre is -- fine art, writing, photography, music -- if you open your eyes, ears, and heart as big and wide as they can go, you are able to absorb the nuances that make for truly transcendent works. Part of Jini's process of photography was to spend significant time just sitting and talking with her subjects, getting to know them as people rather than clients, which drove her vision in composing shots that were utterly attuned to the unique qualities of each person. In Jini's work -- all of it -- one phrase comes to mind: "she really got him/her." This is what all photographers strive to hear, what we hope for with every shot we take. Only the best hear it more than a few times, if they are lucky. With the combination of Jini's generous, kind heart, sharp mind, and creative skills, she hit the ball out of the park every time.

5. You are you from the day you are born until the day you die, so stop paying attention to your number. We seem to be ruled by numbers from birth. Is the baby walking on time? Shouldn't the kid be reading by now? You should be married by 30 or you never will be! You'd better make partner in seven years or your career is over. Oh, she's too young to do that. Oh, he's too old for that now. The older I get, the more I see how ridiculous it all is, and how your age isn't all that damn important at all. Don't you feel like the same person you always were inside? Yes, of course, you grow and change (hopefully for the better), but your essential you is pretty stable, so why let other people's expectations about age stop you from doing things you want to do? It was completely unheard of in the 1960's for a middle-aged woman to have anything to do with rock music, much less one wanting to photograph such longhaired ruffians as The Sonics, The Wailers, The Rolling Stones, and The Who. I am sure that most people must've regarded the sight of Jini with her camera in the front row of a concert as the strangest thing, perhaps at best thinking she was a mom to one of the screaming teens, getting a few snapshot souvenirs. Jini was able to saunter past what society expected, with such charm and grace and sweetness, which simply radiates from her to this day. In the final segments in "Her Aim Is True," we see Jini in her 90s, returning to photography after setting it aside for many years to care for her ailing Carl. She isn't saying to herself, "Oh, I am too old now." She is saying, "I am Jini Dellaccio, and I am a photographer, and there is so much more left to see and do."

So if you have the opportunity to see "Her Aim Is True," say "yes." I am a better person for knowing more about Jini Dellaccio's work and life, and you will be, too.

BOOK REVIEW: "GOD SAVE THE KINKS: A BIOGRAPHY" BY ROB JOVANOVIC (AURUM PRESS, 2013)

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Mon, 27 May 2013 07:57:00 +0000

It is part of natural human curiosity to want to know more about the things and people that have a profound impact on our lives, I think -- when something is meaningful to us, we like to set that into a context, perhaps reflecting on the unique qualities of a person or thing or movement or event that affected us so dramatically. We are curious, endlessly so, and this is seen no more obviously than in the modern world's obsession with celebrities and all that makes up pop culture. At its worst, this curiosity fuels the supermarket scandal rags and paparazzi ghouls, to where you'd not wish fame upon your most-loathed enemy. But at its best, the examination provides us with a glimpse into what makes up the extraordinary -- a hero, a gifted writer, a musical genius, a great leader, exceptional teamwork -- and we are able to understand and better appreciate them, and in turn, perhaps see a bit more of those qualities that exist within ourselves.

It is not at all an exaggeration to state that The Kinks had a profound impact on my life. For those of you who are not quite so musically passionate, it may seem a bit odd that a rock band could or should make any real difference to anyone, other than to provide simple entertainment. But there are some artists that have the ability to connect with their audiences in a deeper way through their music, and what they do not only moves your feet to dance, but provides your brain with fabulous fuel, too. Like their British musical peers of the 1960s The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and The Who, The Kinks were able to transcend time and trends to make music that mattered, and that still remains as fresh and vital as the day it was made. Unlike the other three, The Kinks contained a pair of brothers, Ray and Dave Davies, whose vastly differing characters and talents combined to produce some of the most powerful, observant, and intelligent pop music ever, while at the very same time, seemed hell-bent on destroying every professional opportunity and personal relationship they ever came across.

The Kinks' story is a captivating one, and author Rob Jovanovic has carefully crafted a fascinating read in "God Save The Kinks: A Biography," which will be released in the UK by Aurum Press on June 3rd. Jovanovic proves a thorough researcher and storyteller by understanding the readers' need to understand how and why The Kinks came to be, exploring the circumstances that helped to form one of the most influential and beloved bands of our time. By going back into both the band members' family histories as well as providing an ongoing broader historical framework, we get a feel for the gritty, war-and-Depression-scarred working class London that was home to the Davies brothers and the other two original Kinks, bassist Pete Quaife and drummer Mick Avory. Their everyday realities were a far cry from the pastoral green and pleasant land that Ray Davies often wrote about in his songs, a world more wished for than perhaps ever really existed. In post-WWII England, austerity was still the norm, the discriminatory class system firmly in place, and Davies, Davies, Quaife, and Avory were unlikely to ever break away from minimal wage work, spent driving lorries, cleaning band instruments, or illustrating weekly grocer's ads.

Jovanovic leads us from this seemingly-hopeless background into the story of how music began to pull the two distant teenage Davies brothers together for the first time, and how rapidly the pop business was changing in the immediate wake of The Beatles' staggering worldwide success. Through a combination of unprecedented musical opportunity for all British pop bands, tenacity, talent, ambition, and a lot of luck, the rather ragged Kinks secured a recording contract with major label Pye Records, promptly recorded two flop singles, and had one final chance to deliver a hit before the label would drop them. The song was "You Really Got Me," which not only ended up topping the British charts, but arguably became the foundation sound for completely new kinds of rock genres: heavy metal and punk rock.

There is nothing truer than the old showbiz adage that "you're only as good as your last record," so as the band and their strange assortment of managers and agents and producers and mentors toasted their spectacular success, the pressure was immediately applied for the band to make more hits. This, along with constant touring, the omnipresent press, crazed fans, incredible musical competition, and dramatic romantic relationships, put strain on the Davies' brothers already-fragile bond, and fighting -- both physical and verbal -- was near-constant. As one reads through "God Save The Kinks," it seems miraculous that the band survived a single year, much less thirty of them. As Ray Davies stepped up to take a leadership role in The Kinks, becoming the lead singer, frontman, primary songwriter, and eventual producer, bitterness and division followed quickly, even as the quality of the band's musical output continued to rise, often outshining their chart rivals.

Jovanovic is to be commended in his reporter's balance here; where it would seem to be easy to take sides in the story, he does not, instead carefully allowing the band's own words to speak for themselves. In choosing his quoted material, he shapes the history fairly, not an easy task when the very same event is told differently by nearly everyone involved in it! It is an easy, flowing read, testament to his skills as a writer, because the trajectory of The Kinks' story is often frustrating, punctuated by moments of musical triumph and redemption, but never able to completely be free of the chaos and cruelty that eventually caused them to stop, with no announcement, no fanfare, and no goodbyes. How so much magic and so many amazing songs were created in such a caustic environment will likely remain a mystery. That the songs are still able to bring great joy and insight to new fans year after year is not a mystery at all. They are that good.

(Note: I am very pleased and proud to be a photographic contributor to "God Save The Kinks." My thanks to Rob Jovanovic as well as Lucy Warburton at Aurum Press for a delightful working experience and the chance to be in such a gorgeous book, and to The Kinks, because I loved them so much I wanted to learn how to take pictures of them with a real camera.)

God Save The Kinks: A Biography

Author: Rob Jovanoic

ISBN: 9781845136710
ISBN-10: 1845136713
Format: Hardback (234mm x 153mm x mm)
Pages: 336
Imprint: Aurum Press Ltd
Publisher: Aurum Press Ltd
Publish Date: 3-Jun-2013
Country of Publication: United Kingdom

FAN VIDEO: "I WANNA BE FORGOTTEN" BY BASS DRUM OF DEATH (2013) (STARRING MISS TEN!)

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Sat, 25 May 2013 06:13:00 +0000

Sometimes a song comes on and you just gotta get up and MOVE! This was the scene tonight in my house, as I played a song from Bass Drum of Death's upcoming (June 25) self-titled album called "I Wanna Be Forgotten." Miss Ten just started dancing around the house like a maniac, and I thought, hey, her spontaneous reaction to music is as good as anything and I told her just to keep dancing in front of my iPhone. And now we have a very mod, very groovy, very go-go video! Please to enjoy, and please to pre-order Bass Drum of Death on iTunes RIGHT HERE or on Amazon RIGHT HERE! They were certainly a highlight band for me at Austin Psych Fest, and if you like what I like (Ty Segall, Thee Oh Sees, Jacuzzi Boys) you are gonna dig it!

Bass Drum of Death, "I Wanna Be Forgotten"

FOURTEEN WEIRD ITEMS FROM THE VALUE VILLAGE THRIFT STORE IN WOODINVILLE, WA.!

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Fri, 24 May 2013 05:28:00 +0000

I found myself with a spare hour this afternoon in the Seattle Eastside 'burb of Woodinville, and decided to make a run back to the new Value Village thrift store there to pick up a few items that people wanted from the last time I was there! Of course, there were MORE strange goodies just waiting for me there! I love it. Please to enjoy!

Smug Candle Bear is smug.

A pink piggy bank that says Ohio. What does this all mean?

Thermometer Bird says, "IT'S DAMN TEMPERATE IN HERE!"

I think these seals are made out of pancetta.

Well. There's got to be a story here, right? Based on some ancient religious text about big-eyed ceramic children in desert robes so STOKED about a well? Right?

Porcina has really overdone it with the Great Lash.

I think this pig is committing suicide? Just. Not. Sure.

When I saw this puppy made out of rabbit fur, I must have visibly recoiled, because the shopper lady next to me said, "It's creepy, huh?" I nodded vigorously and took a picture.

SHARRY! SINGING THESE! WORDS! THAT SHE IS! SINGING!

SHARRY!

Presenting...The Saddest Little Record In The Whole Wide World.

Is there any chance whatsoever that these records don't contain multiple racial gaffes? No.

"Whatever, Jesus...be more shiny, get all the attention, I don't CARE. I'M just a stupid ANGEL!"

And finally, The Discarded Avocado Appliances Plot To Take Over The World.

100 WORD MICROFICTION: "THE ANSWER"

noreply@blogger.com (Me) — Thu, 23 May 2013 03:10:00 +0000

Conversation sparkled, at a pretty nighttime party with friends, drinking wine. Alone together in the kitchen, I asked him about his daughter with the bubblegum-pink cheeks and braces on her legs, her time known to be short.

“Fine…you know, fine,” he said with a brief smile, until our eyes met and locked. The room began to lurch and spin, a horrible swirling tunnel forming around us.

“…How? How do you…?” I blurted, heartbroken.

“I…don’t…know,” he stuttered, terrified, eyes pooling with tears.

Another joined us, laughing in anticipation of sharing a good story, and we straightened up. No one could tell.