Quodlibets

Hey Jude, Don't Make It Bad

Tonight, MaccaFest 2005 began with the McCartney show at the United Center.  (S and I are also going to the show in Milwaukee, coming up on Sunday.)  Here are some thoughts:

• Pretty sure you could call the tour "Nostalgia Tour '05" or "Charming America One City at a Time."  Damn, that man is a charming bastard.  You just can't hate him for being a ham.  You can't. 
• "Helter Skelter" was a mis-step.  No one wants to see Paul making noise.  I think that the song was really just a wall of noise intended to beat the crowd into submission.  It worked.  All the momentum built in the audience in that one moment just died.
• There is nothing fucking cooler than seeing "Band on the Run."  There just isn't.  I turned to my friend Tim during the show and said "I'm pretty sure he could just play "Band on the Run" for two hours, and I would love it."  I think it's impossible for me to get sick of it.  And live, it just rules.  The audience adores it, and the concert kicks into high gear when the band plays it.
• I dare anyone to tell me that the moment, at the end of "Hey Jude" when the whole audience is singing, "Na na na na na na naaaaa, na na na, hey jude" is not touching and perfect.  It's such a big, good moment.  It's like your heart just overflows. 
• Also, same feelings during "Let It Be".  Just not the singing along.
• The pyrotechnics during "Live and Let Die" were amazing.  In fact, the whole stage set-up fucking rocked.  I guess when you have millions to spend on lighting and stage, that's what you get.  I can't imagine a better show, to the eye.  Hearing it was good, but seeing it only made it better. 
• It was weird being in the Upper Deck.  Good seats, definitely.  No complaint there.  But the crowd isn't standing and dancing; I think everyone's a little afraid of falling.  It would have been nice to dance more, but I can't complain.  The seats rocked, in terms of where they were.
• "Eleanor Rigby" was a highlight for me, as well as "I Will".  I like the harmonies the other band members provided during ER (as opposed to a few other songs, where the harmonies just don't do the songs justice).  And Paul's solo version of "I Will" was lovely.  "I Will" is one of those songs that you don't hear much about, but it's always been one of my quiet favorites.  I'm pretty sure that no one can beat Sir Paul when it comes to a love song, and "I Will" is a great one.

And one personal thing.  I couldn't stop thinking of my cousin's baby, Jude, during "Hey Jude".  It's obvious, yes, but I think the baby was named for the song.  Somehow, it put things into a different kind of perspective for me.  I can't really explain it, except to say that as much as I don't like babies (and kids), it's somehow nice to know that the baby exists.  And if people are going to procreate, well, I'm happy that my cousin and his partner are the ones doing it.  He's a really great guy, and the baby is adorable.  And loved.  So loved.  It changes the song, it really does.

(MaccaFest 2005 was/is brought to you by the letters J and R, and the number one.  Thanks, Poodge.)

Greetings from Portland

Where everything, including Harry Potter sales, is two hours behind home.  It's been a long, tiring trip already, and we've only been here 18 hours or so.  With, of course, less than 24 left in the trip.

In an hour or so, S and I are going to leave the hotel room to try to find a copy of Harry Potter for me, as well as procure some sort of refreshment for our breakfast.  One that I hope is spelled: d--o--n--u--t.  That's right, the diet is going by the wayside for a weekend of eating fling.  Which actually makes me feel like when I get home, I can be strict and good again.  Anything for a donut, man.

S is driving our rental car (per the usual arrangement), which is a GIANT car of some sort of GM make.  It escapes my memory at this point.  Last night, we went to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, which I would consider a very solid, good movie.  Johnny Depp was not nearly as creepy as I thought he'd be.  I'd even think about smoking pot again just to watch this movie stoned.  I think it would be THAT good, in that state.

S finished a book on the plane ride here, something that probably hasn't happened for I don't know, 10 years.  I'm so excited for him, I was trying to badger him into buying and reading another book.  I'm not sure that's the best way to get him to read.  No, the best way is to stick him on an 8-hour plane ride with a brand-new copy of the DaVinci Code in paperback.  But let's not make fun of his reading taste, okay?  Because you know what?  It doesn't matter what he's reading so long as he's doing it.  I think that the next time we board a plane (besides the flight home) he'll read Angels and Demons, which he has at home, but we didn't think to bring.

I'm pretty sure there's no way in hell I can convince him to read one of my romance novels.....

New laws that are good

Cell phone laws.  Yes, I think that the laws that prohibit cell phone usage in cars, unless you are using it hands-free.  I'm sick and tired of dodging death, driving slow as molasses, and having to pay attention FOR other drivers.  I don't want to beep anymore because the person in front of me is having an engrossing conversation with their significant other and trying to groom themselves at the same time.  Enough is fucking enough.  Because frankly, certain people can't even walk and talk on a cell phone at the same time, and I really, really don't want to let that person get behind a wheel of a car if they can't keep track of left-right, left-right. 

I would say, too, that I do talk on the phone while driving, but only very occassionally.  Also, I have a headset, which I use if I think I will be on the phone for more than 2 seconds.  (Because of my cell phone woes, often the only place I get reception is while on the move.  But again, I bought an inexpensive hands-free set, so I wouldn't be so dangerously distracted, and driving with one hand.)  I just don't think it's safe anymore.  We've all seen the statistics anyway, and we know it's true.  Driving while holding a phone increases your chances of getting in a crash, and sometimes, it makes you as bad a driver as a drunk.  No one wants drunks on the road; we therefore should take steps (as Chicago has) to eliminate as much of the risk as we can.

I'm at the end of my rope.  I can only drive 15 under the speed limit so many times before I want to beat someone, and I don't want to keep braking fast to avoid people turning from the left lane right.  If that makes sense.  I know I'm just bitching, but goddammit, I can't take it anymore.

I've been pondering if this sort of thing is some sort of egregious trespass into personal rights, and so on, and I just don't think it is.  Because no one is banning cell phone usage, you see.  They're just mandating the purchase of a head-set, and making us all a little safer.  (I'm personally not convinced headsets are any safer, but whaaaaaaatever.)  And making the roads run right again, so that my normal 30-minute drive home doesn't take 45 minutes.

Library stuff

Hooray for Salinas, CA. 

Via Suburban Guerilla.

Dogtown

S and I went to see Lords of Dogtown last night.  We both really enjoyed it, but the thing about going to a movie that is attractive to teenagers is that teenagers will be in the theater.

Actually, they were mostly polite and fine, very well-behaved.  No real problems.  I never felt that they were ruining the movie experience.  But I think that teenagers are just about the only people in America who will answer their cell phones in a movie theater and run out of the theater to talk on the phone.  I never heard ringing, mind you, but I observed on three separate occasions teenagers running out of the theater.

S remarked that it seemed like it might have been an emergency for one girl, to which I replied, "Oh yes, because do you know what I heard tonight?  That boy you like is dating HER!  And dude, we're going to this person's house tonight and you should SO totally come because, like, he's going to be there and then you can,  like, totally tell him like, what you think."

I'm sorry.  That's mean.  But why pay for a movie if you're going to answer the phone during--and you can't pause it so that you don't miss anything?

Nonetheless, if you liked "Dogtown and Z-boys", you'll enjoy this.  And if you haven't seen Peralta's documentary ("Dogtown"), watch that, and then go see this.  And then watch Peralta's "Riding Giants".  He's a very talented documentary filmmaker.  And his script wasn't as bad as I thought it would be; S read a review that said the script was weak, but I definitely think it was better than that.  Also, Heath Ledger's role was bigger than I expected, and he was so f-ing good.  I really respect him for it.  (And all the guys--the surviving, interested Z-boys [which included, at the time, a chick, Peggy Oki] were in the film.  Though I missed them; didn't recognize them.)

Home home

I think this is possibly the first time I'm posting from somewhere other than the miniscule apartment that S and I call home.  Tonight, I'm at my mom's house for a girl's night sleepover, that was a gift to her from Kate and I for Mother's Day.  Obviously, as you can see from the time, the sleepover petered out pretty early (my sister, god love 'er, goes to bed really early) and now I'm left with an hour or so 'til sleep.  My mom stays awake until my brother's curfew (at midnight) to make sure he gets in on time, but she wants to read, and my old bedroom isn't equipped with a lamp.  Okay, we did move a lamp in from her bedroom, but still, it doesn't feel like my bed, and to be quite honest, (and sickeningly sappy, I'm sure) I'm not used to sleeping alone. 

I've done it, of course, the few times S or I have been away on vacations away from each other, and the few times S had to work overnights at the store, but it's not normal anymore.  And my old room is just not home anymore.  It's totally rearranged, and my stuff (besides a few hundred books) is all gone.  I hate the idea of going up there and laying down for an hour--even if I will be reading.  It just doesn't feel like a place I want to sleep anymore.  To think that I missed that room so much during the first couple of months at the apartment.

Sadly, I even had to bring earplugs, even though I know this house is as quiet as a tomb at night.  I just don't know if I can sleep without earplugs anymore.  I started using earplugs about a week after we moved in together, and now, even if S isn't in bed, snoring, the little noises in the apartment drive me crazy.  And sometimes, I feel that putting in earplugs helps drown out the sound of all my thoughts--there are nights when I just can't fall asleep but for the earplugs, no matter how quiet S is.  Also, I feel compelled to wear PJs, which sucks when you're not used to them.  But I frequently get up in the night due to how much liquid I consume during the day, and yes, I shocked the hell out of my brother once a long time ago and really can't stand the thought of doing that tonight.

So yes, I'm procrastinating sleep.  Once a procrastinator, always one, I guess.

*****Update:  Worst.  Sleep.  Ever.  Must take nap.

BEN FOLDS! BEN FOLDS! BEN FOLDS!

I love S, but if Ben Folds asked me to do it right now, I totally would.  Man, he's the coolest.  We saw him in concert tonight.  We weren't sure to expect, since the last two times we saw Ben he played solo.  S was first to notice the bass and drumset onstage (I confess I wasn't looking, since the first thing I saw upon entering the venue was a person that we both used to work with and haven't see in AGES.  We had a nice conversation.  He and I once went to a Guster/John Mayer concert together, something that was odd; he only went because S put his foot down and refused to go.  Anyway, good to see him, even if we're not close.).  So anyway, Ben played with two other guys; the drummer guy was definitely Aussie, something that we discovered during the charming rendition of "Bitches Ain't Shit" that they played.  Honestly, the minute you hear "Bitches Ain't Shit" you're singing it for days afterward.  (And can I just say how sad it is that I know a lot of the words to the song?  Only because of Ben.)  In fact, right now, the soundtrack in my head is:  "Bitches can't hang with the streets...." sung in the melodious way that Ben Folds sings it.

The concert, on the whole, was fantastic.  He didn't really rock my world by playing anything unusual, but that's okay.  I never expect him to.  You know the crowd just wants to hear "Army," "Philosophy," and "One Angry Dwarf".  You know he's gonna play those songs, too, and that's okay.  Still, there was a couple standing next to me who were alternately talking and standing still and looking pissed for the whole concert.  He sang along to two of the songs from "Rockin' the Suburbs," and she told him to shut up once during "Still Fighting It."  Charming, the two of them.  He looked appalled when the crowd yelled "FUCK" during "Rockin' the Suburbs" and neither one of them joined in during the horn section of "Army."  They didn't clap when he came onstage (which is okay with me, really, because what has the band done to deserve the clapping?  Maybe they'll suck.), and they never clapped during the entire show--not even after some virtuoso piano work by Ben.  And they left before the first encore.  I mean, not even during a break, but during the last song.  What jackasses.  If they didn't like Ben Folds, they shouldn't have come, because believe you me, I know people who could have put those tickets to better use.

But the crowd seemed less full of trendsters than a normal Riv show.  People, by and far, looked normal.  Oh sure, there were some boys with luxurious hair, and some girls who maybe had on heels that were a tad too high, but it was mostly free from the kind of indie snobs who go to Keane and Zutons and Killers shows, oh my.  On the way home, we listened to Death Cab, and I mentioned how nice it would be to see them again.  S agreed, and said, "Yeah, but can you imagine the trendsters at that show?"  It's a horrific thought, but a true statement.  I think we'd have to somehow transform ourselves into trendsters for a night, so we didn't look like someone's loser cousin from BuFu.  It's a terrifying thought.  Come to think of it, too many of the bands I like are plagued by this type of fan; an Arcade Fire concert would be hell, as would an Interpol concert.  And Weezer, well shit.  They're the original trendster band.  Do you think there'd be aging trendsters at a Weezer concert?  Never mind, we're not going to see those bands anytime soon.  And thank god Ben Folds attracts nice normal Chicagoans.

So it was a pleasant experience, marred only by a weird fat Shannon Hoon/Sam Kinison clone accordian player opening band, and that stupid couple next to me.  AND!  I ran into the son of one of my parent's close friends.  I hadn't seen him in ages either; probably not since he graduated college the year before I did (he went to my school's across-the-street neighbor school).  He's married now, and was with his wife.  So yeah, that was kind of weird too.  The world is small, people.  That's a lesson you learn at a Ben Folds concert.  Oh, and that Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg songs can really sound beautiful.

A movie review and a restaurant preview

S and I went to see Fever Pitch last night. It was very excellent, and when the credits came up and I saw that the Farrelly brothers directed it, the ball shaving part made sudden sense. All in all, though, it was less Farrelly than it could have been. Jimmy Fallon was adorable, and at one part, he does something that not many men do (not ball shaving--hopefully most men engage in some sort of manscaping) and I thought: "Why am I not dating Jimmy Fallon?" and "Why is my sister not watching this movie? She will love it." I've come to the conclusion that Nick Hornby would never sign on to do a bad movie version of one of his books, and he was a producer for this one. Think about it: High Fidelity was wonderful, About a Boy was almost perfect, and now this. I've never thought about how unfaithful the movies are to the books, simply because the movies are wonderful on their own. He should be congratulated.

And tonight, I am going to Charlie Trotter's. I am going to worship at the altar of haute cuisine. I never thought that I would ever in a million years go, but I received an invitation and there's no way in hell I would ever turn it down. I do feel apprehensive, because of my food allergies. I'm allergic to shellfish, and I think that it is in the nature of haute cuisine to use ingredients that are rare/expensive/fine, and some shellfish fall into this category. I know that Trotter's caters to food allergies all the time, but I feel like I will be missing a part of the experience, because whatever I eat will not necessarily be what Trotter planned to cook. Does that make sense? In this sort of menu situation, you eat what the chef puts in front of you, and I can't necessarily do that. But still, I'm very excited. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

S isn't going, which is just as well, because he doesn't eat vegetables or fish or anything that might slightly be construed as weird. I'm proud of him, though, because last night he grudgingly went to Stir Crazy for me, and he really liked his meal. We ordered chicken satay, and then he had sesame chicken, which he thought was really good. It makes me happy, because now I know we can go to Stir Crazy more often. I love making my own stir fry. It was sort of expensive (but we did also have dessert); we haven't gone out to a nice dinner alone in a long time, though, so it was very good. I had a really good night, all around.

I will try to post after my meal tonight, just so that I don't forget impressions and specifics, but no guarantees. It could be a late night.