Archive for the ‘Other A&E’ Category

Man, why didn’t I get to star in this video?

Saturday, April 29th, 2006

Man, the creators of this deliciously awful Reagan-era War on Drugs music video were way off. Having now seen that the David Hasselhoff poster in my bedroom might spring to life and serenade me, I’m actually more tempted to try drugs! But don’t worry. I’d probably just get hooked on a feeling.

Why didn’t I get to star in this video? Alas, in 1985-1986, it would be a few more years before I hit my faux-goth, sulky girl, teenage years, and I just didn’t fit the part. I was, however, a huge Whitney Houston fan at that time. I used to don my leotard, tights, and leg warmers, play her exotically orange debut album on the record player, and make up dance routines to “How Will I Know?” in my dad’s living room.

Nostalgia trip courtesy of boingboing and Scott, who lovingly shares the best of that burgeoning blog when I can’t keep up with it myself.

MWDITOT: Beastles Bliss

Saturday, February 18th, 2006

On an extremely bright and bitterly cold Saturday like this, there’s nothing quite like sleeping late, eating fruit pie for breakfast, and lazing around taking in the amazing pop sounds of the Internet. Ah!

So I listened to David Byrne’s February playlist again, and then I waded through my Boing Boing feed in Bloglines to find dj BC’s magical mystery mash-ups. Just finished my initial pass of The Beastles, the first album, (Can’t manage to access the latest, Let It Beast, at this point, but will try again later), and I’m blissed out especially by “Whatcha Want, Lady?” “Tripper Trouble,” and “Sure-Bla-Di Shot-Bla-Da.”

I humbly bow to dj BC’s masterful execution of a Brilliant Idea.

[Update: A few hours later, my second listen, with headphones this time, and I'm as blissed out as ever, wishing I had roller skates and a portable version of "Sure-Bla-Di Shot-Bla-Da"! Or even better, what are the chances I could get dj BC to play the Roll-A-Way?]

My Life… in Boy Bands

Sunday, February 12th, 2006

(Years of obsession; name of boy band; favorite member)

1985-1987; The Monkees; Davy

1988-1990; New Kids on the Block; Joey

1992-1994; Sex Pistols; Johnny

2000-present; Fingerbang; Wendy

“And I Live by the River!”

Friday, January 27th, 2006

Man, the Clash are absolutely, bloody brilliant. Where have I been all these years?

In Stitches – Man, Why Didn’t I Think of That?

Sunday, January 22nd, 2006

I’m going to make more of an effort to post my happy little discoveries here, those things that have me going all, “Man, why didn’t I think of that?” Lately I’ve just let MWDITOTs pile up in my Bloglines and annoy me. Very bad. Regular MWDITOTs on pedestriansaga? Very good. (Well, I don’t know. You tell me, dear reader.) If I could have a theme song to introduce my MWDITOTs, it would be something like “Mwuh-diddy-tot” to the tune of “Mahna Mahna.” (Thank you, Scott, for getting that song into regular rotation on my mental playlist!)

So when I moved to Oregon in November, I finally let go of my cassette tapes. Just gave ‘em away. So long, lovely, lovely Loco Live! Bloodletting and Bleach, be well! Farewell, The Wallflowers! (And those are just the ones I’ll fess up to having. With alliterative names.) But man, oh, man, why didn’t I think to knit ‘em into this? (Via The Grist List and Wired News.)

I don’t know how to knit, actually. But if I did, I’d dream of running off to join the Knitta gang of taggers. (Via wonderful Wooster Collective.) What an artistic, healthy release of those nagging unfinished projects! Or I’d totally wish I’d thought of these sick and twisted little beauties! (Via friend of Knitta.)

[Update 1/23/2006, for sake of thoroughness, following middle-of-the-night recollection]
Knitta’s tagging is so assertive. Times of introversion, when I feel like retreating inside my shell or sticking my head in the sand or spinning a cocoon or otherwise expressing angst with an animalistic metaphor… Those times call for a knitting performance like this!

Beware my periwinkle grasshopper leap and invincible hummingbird hands, O smarmy wedding crashers!

Thursday, July 21st, 2005

Well, I’m back from helping my little sister get hitched. The wedding seemed to go off without a hitch. Good thing those creeps Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson didn’t show up though, or I might have been forced to take them out with my thunderous, emasculating, maid-of-honor peri-blossom slam– you know, to wipe that shit-eating smirk and pompous pout right off their smug little mugs.

Oh, that reminds me that the first song the deejay played at the reception was Franz Ferdinand’s “Take Me Out.” Thank you, deejay friend of the groom! It made me do a happy dance. Or maybe it was the champagne and riesling and pinot noir.

Hmm. You know, come to think of it, I’d have welcomed that wacky Christopher Walken. Shucks, you think he’d have danced with me? Anyhoo…

My sincere congratulations to the newlyweds! It was indeed an honor to participate in the celebration of your marriage! And in such truly amazing company!

First Church of Ted

Thursday, April 28th, 2005

Last night, I hugged my dogs tight, attempting to shake myself out of a treacherous rut of low energy. We needed to play. So I cranked Ted Leo + Pharmacists and let the moshing begin! In one magical moment, I observed Gordon and Maddy’s intricate, um, furry tango twist and pause right in time with the opening of “Little Dawn”– just at that sweet spot after the bass joins in and TL’s guitar dives down to meet his rhythm boys. Shiver!

Here you’ll find a video of Ted Leo + Pharmacists performing “Little Dawn” live in a Unitarian church. I highly recommend going to the trouble of downloading it.

Eventually I decided to stop dancing with the dogs and sit down to the soup. I was skimming the table of contents of America: the Book, my new kitchen table read (several months coming from the public library), searching for an appropriate point of entry (”Hmm, I already checked out the nude Supreme Court at the airport bookstore…”) when “Shake the Sheets” led me straight to Chapter 6.

The TL+Rx site doesn’t offer audio of that one, but the others I find just as fabulous and inspiring (and maybe a little easier to access technically than the Unitarian gig).

Once you’ve converted, be sure to thank Caption Jockey. The motherscratcher is a music guru.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk

Sunday, March 13th, 2005

On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I’m wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there’s nothing short o’ dying
That’s half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.”

Ted Leo + Pharmacists @ El Rey

Monday, February 21st, 2005

Sometimes I wonder what the hell I’m doing here. Then I leave my living room and go see Ted Leo + Pharmacists play El Rey, and I remember, “Oh, yeah. Right.”

Think I’ll run off and be a Pharmacists groupie. Chris and Dave are totally hot. Picture Pete Townsend, very still, on drums and Harry Shearer in Spinal Tap on bass (’cept without the faux leather and with THE MOST incredible helmet of curly hair. And even stiller! I mean, the guy barely moved the whole show. How did he DO that? He is a god. I worship him.)

Thanks to my mentor in all things Ted Leo, I was very familiar with the music and immensely enjoyed the live renditions of “Me and Mia,” “Counting Down the Hours,” “Biomusicology,” “Shake the Sheets,” “High Party,” and “Ballad of the Sin Eater” (and a bunch of others with titles that escape me).

Preshow entertainment– studying a raunchy make-out session in the doorway to the balcony, speculating on what lies beneath the opening act’s acronym, U.S.E., and critiquing their mess of a presentation, and otherwise yucking it up with some great guys from Burbank.

Then at one point during the show someone yelled out that Hunter S. Thompson was dead

Resist Despair, Part 1: Dancing in the Kitchen

Saturday, December 4th, 2004

Crushed by a sense of impending doom since Bush was elected to a second term? Humiliated and depressed that your lover’s up and left, that the man who was supposed to be your partner for life has checked out with nary an explanation, without so much as a real discussion, whose fiery meteor of intense, sincere love has suddenly cooled and, straying so casually off course, has blasted your planet into the oblivion of a new geologic age? Resist that paralyzing despair, because with four more years of Bush prosperity and with your deportation to the state of Single Income, you can’t well afford to slip into a full-out, rip-roarin’ nervous breakdown. You’ve got to eat. Okay, so maybe your appetite disappeared along with your husband, but those dogs continue to demand their kibble. Besides, while you may live vicariously through others who flourish in their brilliantly bold and bitter eloquence, you will only meet endless frustration in your own lame astronomical metaphors and annoying second person narration. There’s really no attractive option but to nurture your innate optimism and resist despair. So come on into the kitchen… (more…)