My radio commercial

Some time ago, I figured out the rudiments of digitizing old audio tape recordings. So, through yousendit.com technology, I'd like to share with you ... my radio debut:

Click me

It was a Christmas commercial for a local bank, and I was 8 years old. They had me say my real name, but told me to read the school listed on the script. The clip has the kid who spoke after me edited out - you didn't want to hear him anyway, right?

X&Y

Currently listening to the latest Coldplay album. I'm not ashamed to say I enjoy Coldplay - they are a lot of fun live (or at least, they were a lot of fun the one time I saw them) and they were all very nice, down-to-earth guys. I might go as far as to call Chris goofy. Anyway, their albums may not be the most exciting things I've ever heard, but between the two previous ones there are quite a few songs I really enjoy. (See: God Put a Smile Upon Your Face, Shiver, Everything's Not Lost, Amsterdam.) I'm not completely through X&Y yet, so I can't form a cohesive opinion ... I hear a lot of early U2 influence. I jotted impressions down for each of the songs as I listened, and I see a lot of "okay" with a peppering of "boring", "decent" and "like" ... plus one "prettyish" and one "pukey!" We'll see what I think upon listening to it some more. In fact - I really like this last song. See?

Does Grandpa's turtle have nuts?

Props to Sooz for getting that question out yesterday at the ice cream parlor without even cracking a smile. (Grandpa's turtle, if you're wondering, is a sundae. And no, sadly, it has no nuts.)

Anyway. I did not meet SPJ at the BBQ, but I did meet Kris's mom. So there you go. And though we didn't finish our game of Trivial Pursuit, Stacy and I were winning. Dammit. Sam makes really good margaritas. Aaand I'm out. Happy Memorial Day!

Goodness

We ate dinner at the Cheesecake Factory in Milwaukee tonight. In the car on the way home I felt like a snake who'd just ingested a small pig, and would be spending the next month or so inert and digesting.

Tomorrow I will hopefully meet Steven P Jones.

Ting-A-Ling Bingo, revisited

Back in April, I wrote about the old game Ting-A-Ling Bingo. This afternoon a song from Glenn Kotche's Introducing came up on my iPod, and something hit me - the sounds around 2:25 - 2:40 in "Stagger On"? That's the same sound the spinner makes in Ting-A-Ling Bingo! It's the ting-a-ling! I assume whatever mechanism is responsible for the ting-a-ling is pretty simple. But still! What does it all mean? Probably that the green car is still after me.

Our house of music

Anya's boyfriend is in the process of moving out of his apartment in preparation for moving to North Carolina in the fall. Which means that for the summer, our place is once again home to all of his musical instruments, plus ours. It amuses the hell out of me. We currently have:

* 1 Danelectro '56 Pro
* 1 Fender 12-string acoustic that I am in love with and must strum EVERY TIME I WALK PAST IT
* 1 Fender Telecaster
* 1 bass guitar whose make I don't recall at the moment
* 4 (yes, four) keyboards, one of which is really nice
* 1 mellotron
* 1 recorder
* 1 wooden "Native American" flute
* 2 harmonicas
* 1 drum machine
* 1 violin
* 2 maracas
* 1 shekere

Anybody with talent (or just enthusiasm) is invited over to play.

Upon reflection

I really think that if I had to pick the American Idol contestant from this season who's most likely to murder someone, it wouldn't be Scott Savol. It would be Constantine. When he stares at the camera (and when does he not stare at the camera?) it's like we're gazing into an abyss of creepiness. Intensely focused creepiness. Scott seems like he could possibly bludgeon someone to death in a fit of dull rage, but with Constantine I guarantee there would be some stalking, kidnapping, and torture involved first.

Picture of the day

I touched Glenn's cymbal

I couldn't resist. It was heavier and, I guess, denser than I expected. Shows you how familiar I am with drums.

So yesterday I saw the Tweedy/Kotche show at NU. I wasn't sure how things were going to work for non-students, and I actually had three activities lined up for the night - if the NU show didn't pan out, I had a ticket to see Glen Hansard at Martyrs', and since it was a Monday night, the Hideout with Ed Burch was a late-night option.

As luck (or random A&O planning) would have it, my first choice worked out. And the show was weird and kind of short, but good. I absolutely loved Glenn's opening set. I hadn't seen him play solo since ... almost exactly two years ago. With the exception of the first two songs, he confirmed that he'd played stuff from his upcoming solo album. Can't wait. Jeff's set was good too (when is it not?) but it seemed like he was having a slightly off night. From his own perspective, at least, since there were more stops and starts and self-deprecating comments than usual during songs. Everyone was in high spirits, though. Highlights for me were Sunken Treasure, Summer Teeth, ELT, and the entire encore with Glenn (but especially Laminated Cat.)

Sunny

It's a gorgeous day. I know I talk about the weather a lot, but honestly - my view in the office includes three large windows, and if it's lovely and sunny outside, it's constantly making me happy. (Of course, as I was writing, the sun moved behind a cloud. Bastard.)

Likkered up Trivial Pursuit on Saturday night was fun. Plus, Sam gave me a NKOTB 7" of Popsicle! That's it; I'm getting a turntable pronto. A couple rounds of Mad Libs were a good capper for the night. Note: no matter what age you are, some variant of "poop" as a noun or verb in Mad Libs is never not funny. I didn't get home until after 4:00 a.m., but still managed to get about 6.5 hours of sleep. Ahh, Sunday mornings.

Tonight: music.

Mmmm, weeeeekend

Last night, after we hosted a belated birthday party for Maureen (there were birthday pies and she got to blow out a big candle from Bath and Body Works - it wasn't the most organized thing ever) I drove down to Kenosha. Today I'll go shopping with Mom, Dad's grilling out tonight, and then later I plan to head down to Chi for some likkered up Trivial Pursuit at the Hotel. Extended family lunch tomorrow, and then it's back to Madison to hang some new posters - and maybe Anya and I can play some of the 5,000 musical instruments currently residing at our place.

And really, I would have been happy just because it's sunny outside.

I used to do this to babies

That's a picture from the infant research lab where I worked during my last two years of college. In the photo, you can see a woman pushing buttons on a small control panel. The buttons administer electrical shocks of increasing severity, designed to - kidding! Just kidding. The buttons actually indicate which direction the infant in the testing room is looking. Our research dealt with music and language acquisition, so the stimuli the infants were orienting to were aural. It actually takes a considerable amount of practice to accurately code the sessions, and infants were precious experimental commodities. This meant that whenever someone new started in the lab, we all got to take turns sitting in the testing room, slumping down in the chair, and doing our best impressions of practice babies. We were all pretty skillful (and much trickier than most of the real infants), but this grad student Erik was the best. He had the slightly vacuous, glazed, wondering look down to a science, and would usually play with his hands a few times and twist around in the chair as a bonus. I hope that wherever he's working now, he's putting those talents to good use.

ohmagaaaaaaawdLenaOlin!!

"Alias" is one of the few TV shows I make a point of watching every week. The first season was excellent entertainment, the third kind of sucked, and the fourth has been okay. The second season, however, featured Lena Olin playing Irina Derevko - the best character ever. Since she left the show I have been pining for her return, but it was my understanding there were some irreconcilable differences between Lena and the producers, and that her character would never be back. I believed that until last night's episode, when ...


Eeeeee! SpyMommy!

I should explain - I am in love with Lena Olin. She's an awesome actress, she kicks super amounts of ass solely by being present in a scene, her character on Alias is devious and complicated, she and Victor Garber are awesome together, and she is, without a doubt, on my switch-hitting list. Actually, my switch-hitting list consists of: Lena Olin. She rules. And so, when she showed back up on Alias last night, I screamed like a little girl. I've never been so happy that I live a life of cluelessness regarding upcoming plot developments.

I have never seen a Star Wars film

Some of you are aware of that, but all the hype surrounding Episode 3's imminent release reminded me about it.

First, I should qualify the subject by saying that the statement is not entirely true. I must have seen part of one of the movies - perhaps Return of the Jedi - at a very young age, since I have a vague memory of ewoks. There's a picture of me at age 4 standing in C3PO's (R2D2's?) footprints in Hollywood, as a matter of fact. But for all practical purposes, I have never seen any of the movies. I could outline a rough plot for you based on sheer osmosis, but that's about it. My question is this: is it worth it for me to even try to catch up at this point? I understand that the older movies are classics, but would they just seem campy to me without all the nostalgia?

Why?

Why is it nearly impossible to find normal, nicely crafted 1" scale miniature dolls to fit into a modern dollhouse? I noticed this years ago, and even with the bottomless pit of the internet at my disposal I'm having a hard time finding any viable options. I mean, it should not be difficult. All someone would have to do is take any would-be Victorian doll, slap on a halfway neutral wig (which should be easier than the elaborate ones that are so common) and, I don't know, dress it in a skirt and blouse. I'm not looking for Bratz fashion here - I don't want a tiny porcelain ho - just something that doesn't look like it's heading to the Grand Ballroom to consort with the viscomte. But in modern dolls it seems you have two choices: poseable cloth-like dolls made with really advanced pipecleaner technology, or something like this:


Caption on the artist's site: This little fellow is playing checkers with his guardian angel and he's winning!

Insert slanty face here.

Pan-DA!

Tonight (last night?) I saw Deerhoof at the Empty Bottle. It was a fun show, and I'm glad I went down - despite the fact I'm going to be ass tired tomorrow morning. (This morning.) My favorite songs are the ones during which Satomi does cheerleader dances along the front of the stage. Good times. Kristina and I also noticed that the drummer has the skinniest knees ever.

The openers were Nedelle, Sicbay, and On Fillmore. Nedelle was enjoyable, and probably the most unlike the rest of the acts. Girl + guitar type stuff. (Eventually girl + guitar + guy named Paul.) Sicbay was energetic and loud. Very loud. And from Minneapolis! On Fillmore was hypnotic. Despite having seen Glenn play solo and in a few other guises, this was the first time I'd ever seen On Fillmore. They pretty much played "Sleeps with Fishes," and it was really good. It was interesting seeing Glenn on just vibes. Wearing a pretty awesome red cowboy hat that looked a little too small, I might add. (Darin had his hair in 2 braids and was wearing a white tunic - I was wondering which cult he'd joined; Gina asked when he joined the Polyphonic Spree.)

My favorite line of the night came from Kris:

Kristina [returning from the bathroom/bar during Deerhoof]: "Jeff's here."
Kris: "Oh, that's so gay."

I miss hockey

In honor of the NHL playoffs that should be heating up right about now, here's a photo of an Edmonton goalie making Ethan Moreau's son cry:

Flash bulbs purple irises the camera can't see

I got my U2 concert photos from the purloined camera back yesterday, and they're not half bad. I kind of wonder if any of mine would have made it into the contest, but I'm willing to bet the zillion other people got many that are better. Anyway, here are some of my pictures from May 9th at the United Center:


The Edge does his patented 'kicking the stage' dance


"The Hiss" during An Cat Dubh, or, "Bono Stars in a Musical"


The Edge plays right in front of us


Adam Clayton comes to see what's up on our side of the stage


Bono, Edge, and lots of red lights


My film ran out after this, so I didn't get a photo of the part of the show when they make out

You know Kerry Moonbeam?

As a little kid I was extremely sensitive about answering questions incorrectly, or saying something wrong. I hated the thought that people might laugh at me. I can remember at least three instances of refusing to answer a question or repeat an answer because I wasn’t sure I was right:

1. I was three or four years old. My older sister Jaki asked me what I thought the phrase “carry moonbeams home in a jar” meant, from the song "Swinging on a Star." We sang that a lot around the house, and it had always seemed obvious to me … it meant you carried some moonbeams home in a jar. But as soon as Jaki asked the question, I was convinced that I couldn’t be correct – if it were that simple, she wouldn’t be asking me. I refused to answer. Then I found out that when Jaki was little, she’d interpreted the line as “Kerry Moonbeam’s home in a jar” ... that a poor little man named Kerry Moonbeam had to stay home and live in a jar. And since I’d refused to answer when she asked, everyone declared – to my great disgust – that I must have thought the same thing.

2. Around the same age, I was playing at a friend’s house. Her mother had just finished working in the garden. One of the older neighbor girls, Andrea, asked me if I knew what manure was. “Cow poop,” I proclaimed. Andrea cracked up, and called her friend Chrissie over. She asked me the question again. I wasn’t having it, though – she’d laughed, so obviously I’d been wrong. I wouldn't repeat my answer.

3. I was five or six years old – my older sisters had Aerosmith’s “Dream On” in heavy rotation around the house and I’d learned all of the words to the song. I remember Jaki being very impressed that I could sing them all, and asking me what I thought it meant when Steven Tyler sang “Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away.” I’d never questioned what it meant, and was surprised into answering. “It means you die.” And she was even more impressed. So I guess that time wasn’t like the other times. Never mind.

I suppose this wasn’t restricted to answering questions. I’d also choreograph elaborate dance routines for my friends to popular songs (like "Step by Step" by the New Kids on the Block and "(I've Had) The Time of My Life " from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack) but I never participated when it came time to put the show on for our parents. That just seems like good sense. Although I do remember organizing a group of friends to recite Baby-Sitters Club monologues as characters (from the story when everyone goes to visit Stacy in New York City) and participating in that … on camera … so you can see that sometimes my judgment was woefully lacking.

Back to tired

Tired, with interest. Definitely worth it, though. Seeing U2 again after all this time was both exciting and profoundly weird. I had an excellent time at the show, but it wasn't - of course - the same as it was four years ago. Gina and I made a full day of it in line, for old times' sake. And I do mean full day. By the night before the show, a tent city had sprung up outside the United Center grounds. I reacquainted myself with friends I hadn't seen in three years or more.

Brief highlights of the show - I was very lucky (though I had an odd feeling before going in that I would be) and my ticket scanned as one of the first "winners" of the night to get inside the ellipse/bomb shelter/egg thingy. I yanked Gina over from her line, and sent her off to secure a spot while I filled out some weird contest thing for the DVD taping and picked up a disposable camera. Their plan was to have everyone in the ellipse at each Chicago show take photos and then turn in the cameras after to enter a "best photo" contest. Except I ended up just taking the camera with me. Do you suppose U2 will hunt me down?

The major highlight for me was that our friend Laura got pulled up onstage to play guitar with the band! She requested "Party Girl", and though she struggled a bit at first, she was able to pull it off. I had a great view of the other band members as she and Bono played, and Adam was particularly enjoying her work on the solo. Laura has always been a huge Adam fan from back in the day, so it was a great moment. I think I was pounding Gina on the back with glee. Sorry, Gina.


Laura and Bono

Oh yes, I mentioned the DVD. Apparently last night and tonight were when the majority of the show taping was set to happen. If they use any footage from last night, I doubt there's much chance Gina and I will not be in it. We were right between Bono and the Edge in the front row. As a bonus, apparently the two of us were the preshow entertainment on one of the giant screens. For like an hour. Thanks to the stealthy beneath-the-stage cameras pointed at the crowd. Awesome.

Dog balls and dudecake

So, today is the day to relax and kick back after Wilco and before U2. What a crazy four days. I figured out that between Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday I drove over 750 miles. Besides working and sitting in line and seeing rock shows. On Friday night I just stayed over and enjoyed the famous hospitality at Hotel S n S - I slept with Amelia and Cali. (Well, I woke at 6:00 to Cali walking on my back and purring next to my ear.)

Saturday's Wilco show has already been discussed quite a bit. From my perspective, the mood and demeanor of everyone onstage was amazingly upbeat and professional. Of course there was some frustration as things were going wrong, but I felt worse for Frankie than anyone else. I ended up enjoying it even more for its novelty. And I'm glad we won the "battle" over Kris, since otherwise he wouldn't have been in such a handy position to yell "WEAK SAUCE!" at Glenn. Nor for Jeff to leap over, take off his hat, muss up his hair, and give him a kiss. And then, suddenly, be laying on top of us.

Not to mention the songs! "Promising". Dudes. "Promising". And "New Madrid", and "SOMEDAY SOON"! I knew it would happen.

I also earned a dollar before the show. Ahem.

Not that tired!

How about that? I'm not sure what's up, but I'll take it. My current semi-perky state probably has something to do with the fact that last night's show started on time, and was over by 10:40 or so. I was home by 1:10, although I then checked in with work and wound up not getting to bed until 2:15 anyway. Despite the fact that yesterday I shuddered with every sip, I have another mug of coffee on my desk right now.

I have no idea how people drink coffee. I don't mean "I have no idea how people can drink something as nasty as coffee," though that applies as well, but rather "I am not from the Land of the Drinkers of Coffee, so I know not your ways and customs." I hear the words 'cream' and 'sugar' bandied about a lot, which is a good hint, but that's it. We have some high-tech coffee dispensing contraption in the kitchen, and it actually took me a minute to figure out how to pour a cup. I don't know if people actually drink coffee with milk (is that like a poor man's latte?) but that looked better than the non-dairy creamers to me. The composition of the substance currently in my mug is approximately 43% coffee, 50% milk, 4% sugar, and 3% hazelnut and chocolate flavored stuff from plastic pouches.

Anyway! Last night's show was really fun, and I'm expecting more fun tonight. Plus many more friends. And maybe a little less undressing from Jeff. Perhaps tonight's Hummingbird will actually be DVD-able! I think Cubs traffic is going to royally screw me heading down there this afternoon, but there's nothing I can do about it.

Tired

So this is my week for rock and roll - through Monday - a concert every night except for Sunday. That's the plan right now, anyway. (Side note - remember how I said I wasn't going to do that? Heh.) Of course I'm still working every day, and all of the shows take place about 2.5 hours from where I live. Which means that I went to bed around 3:00 a.m. last night. I'm actually sort of curious, in a clinically detached way, to find out if I can physically keep this up. Only time will tell!

I may voluntarily drink coffee for the first time ever right now. Not that people are often attempting to tie me up and pour coffee down my throat, but I've been in situations where politeness dictated that I at least pretend. But at this point, I'm ready to mainline caffeine.

Bizarre guitars

My brain will be elsewhere for a few days, so don't expect anything in-depth here ... but do enjoy some amusing basses and guitars from this site. Here are a few of my favorites:


Dude, the headstock is a LION PAW!

My dollhouse is cooler than your house

I have a dollhouse. Actually, I have two dollhouses. One is gigantic and set in the Victorian era, and the other is simply large and set in the present day. (Which, for a dollhouse, seems to mean sometime around 1989.) The modern house was purchased, with most of its furnishings, about ten years ago for the mind-bogglingly cheap price of $100. That may not sound cheap to you, but trust me, it is cheap.

The Victorian, though, came first. When I was eleven years old, I suddenly decided I wanted a dollhouse more than anything in the world. I hoarded my money, made weekly trips to Miniature Village in Kenosha to gaze at model houses, furniture, and accessories, and finally commissioned Max's Miniatures in Racine to build my mansion. I no longer recall the name of the kit I bought, but I do remember the one I dreamed of buying: The Bostonian. That was the mother of all dollhouses. Unfortunately, my parents convinced me (quite accurately) that it wouldn't fit anywhere in our house, let alone in my room.

My house was painted a light Victorian pink. I did a ton of research for this project - I could still expound on the difference between Italiante, Gothic Revival, and Queen Anne architecture. I was obsessed with historical accuracy, which is probably a major reason why the house was never decorated completely. But the furnishings that are in there - holy shit. I am positive that (minus electronics) the furnishings in that dollhouse cost more than the furnishings of my current real house. My designer of choice was Bespaq, which made the most expensive dollhouse furniture in the universe. Which was also the coolest. I mean, check it out:


I have this mirror. It is priced at $80.00. If I paid that much for it at some point, please shoot me.

Sadly, both dollhouses are now sitting down my parents' basement. Every so often I get the urge to work on them again, but they're next to impossible to transport. Nevertheless, I have a feeling I'll be trying it soon. They're just too kickass to live in hiding forever. Plus, last time I was all into miniatures the internet was barely functional. I sent away for catalogs listed in the back of Nutshell News. Now, though ... oh, the possibilities. It's slightly daunting. Shouldn't people only have one expensive hobby?