07 April, 2010
19 September, 2009
Take....these broken wings...
Not so.
I gave up about halfway through. I believe this shows some signs of character though, as I seem to know my true physical limits (or what the waitress labeled as "Gross").
Either way I don't hate life and I can accurately describe what defeat tastes like -- mainly because I didn't incinerate my tastebuds like the idiot I hoped I'd been.
...meanwhile I've rubbed my eyes I don't know how many times and wished I hadn't.
As always, T, thanks for the laughs and the company. 'Night, all.
16 September, 2009
Are you still listening? Good.
I'm happy to report the weather is still frightfully pleasant in Minnesota, and the company is even better. My morning and afternoon bookended by Beatles remasters (with the unfortunate catch of them all hailing from the heartthrob/cover song days), I worked a full 8 with a little disappointment in the middle: I'm trying to orchestrate an excuse to celebrate my birthday, but all justifications are flaking in ways I wasn't prepared for. And endurance is an overwhelming nine-letter word.
Nonetheless, I met a cool 'dad-like' figure after work who shared my musical interests. Being me though, I hesitated on really chatting it up and missed out on knowing a dude who just might've invited me over for a cigar, some kickass surround sound sessions and an educational history of concert-going experiences in the 70's. I digress.
Followed up and closed out by dinner with the other end of the spectrum. I'm debating new grounds for a day-o-birth get-together and planning Mini Western Marathons.
I'd also like to give a shout-out to U2 for recording the song "Numb".
Good Night.
14 September, 2009
Fin
Thanks again for coming - I'll be here all night.
Under Cardiac Arrest in an Airport
In stark contrast to my last trip involving airports, I haven't seen one copy of the Twilight series in a person's hand (wherein previously one out of every three persons I encountered was nose-deep in any given title). I am hoping this means they've settled into their rightful place betwixt lockers and the clearance aisles of used book stores.*
I don't know why I never noticed how much large airports resemble little cities...and why it didn't occur to me until I encountered the red light district. Sitting at my gate I noticed someone had deserted their area without cleaning up. A second look revealed the mess consisted of scattered order cards and the hastily opened plastic wrap of an Adult Magazine. Both funny and unsettling, I chalked it up to mean joke or disturbing addiction. You forget sometimes that some folks just don't care for courtesy or discretion.
Finally, it impresses me how I've inexplicably managed to land a view that mimics John Lithgow's from The Twilight Zone Movie on every flight.
*full disclosure: I've read the first book and a portion of the second (some on that very same trip). In all honesty the books aren't terrible - but the level of fame they've garnered kinda is.
Again, and again. And again.
We'd had a fairly solid 'goodbye' but the realities of distance and time swiftly kicked in. I'm leaving and it sucks.
It was a hell of a time, though - a beautiful place to vacation to regardless and now there's plenty of fresh memories to digest...
It's just that even with plenty of time to prepare, it really is damned difficult to head home when a good chunk of what you define that as is being left behind.
I'm not too sure why I needed to share this.
13 September, 2009
>insert Young Jeezy HEYYYY here<
What an exhausted celebration it's become, eh? It's saying something crucial when I must begrudgingly (really, almost violently) award Lady Gaga the Most Amusing Thing of the Event. And believe me when I say that I really, really don't want to do that.
...but isn't it hypocritical to gripe at all? Didn't my generation virtually invent that damned show and what it signifies? I can't legitimately argue whether or not fIREHOSE pined for a spray-painted icon of our nation's achievements in aviation any less than Milli or Vanilli - and can anyone coolly justify the overjoyed acceptance of long-ago winner (and arguably original champion of the genre 'Alternative') from a decade-and-some-change-ago with their 'homage' to recorded visual media - "Tonight, Tonight"? Likely not.
No, I can't argue this. And so I can't truly rail against what I'm seeing - even if it is by and large tired celebrity lazily generating faux excitement/edge to the Next Generation of Fame. Because, really, I was once a part of that cycle - and God help me - I loved the hell out of it.
Even still, I'll quietly burn my discs in the hopes of perpetuating True Variety in defiance of the Modern Mainstream.
I'll just remind myself that the Allman Brothers weren't all about the fame and Gene McDaniels would never shoot a video in black and white just to score some tail.
Seacrest out.
