Category: tunes

Music. Bands. Songs. Concerts.

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you did it

Where my droogs at?
Sitting here ripping my CD collection, listening to some great stuff that I haven’t heard in years. Tonight we’re on the Bs. We listened to everything from Ben Folds Five to Black Sabbath to Badfinger. Sometimes I’m torn between wanting to write every detail of my daily stuff and wanting to write down stuff from the olden days. Sometimes olden days are more fun.

One day I was playing “doctor” with the girl from next door. I must have been in the 5th grade. It was her, my brother, and me – and we were hiding out between our two houses. My mom was out and about somewhere, and my dad was home. Since we were so young, I really had no idea how to play doctor – I just think I wanted to see something I’d never seen before. We were in the middle of the proceedings, and the little neighbor girl was in a compromising position – when my mom drove down the street on her way home. The picture looking out the car window must’ve been pretty telling. Two boys and the neighbor huddled in the corner between the houses, she’s striking some unnatural pose or lifting something that shouldn’t be lifted? while the two boys look on intently.

We saw mom drive by, and immediately canceled the game of doctor. I think my brother and I headed home, hoping that mom wouldn’t suspect us. Bad news for us, the neighbor told her mom about the new game she played with the brothers from next door. Bummer. While my mom was in the living room talking to the neighbor’s mom, I put my plan into action.

I went into my brother’s room, and told him “you were playing doctor with that girl.” “No I wasn’t, you were,” he replied. “No, you did it,” I answered. Then, without giving him enough time to answer – I kept drilling it into him. “You did it!” “You did it!” “You did it!” “You did it!” Over and over and over and over again. Finally he stopped protesting and started crying. “I did it,” he whimpered through tears. “That’s right, now go tell mom.” And, he did. He went out and told mom that he was the one who was playing doctor with the girl.

Never have I been more ashamed of my treatment towards my brother. I’m sorry Frank. I know you didn’t play doctor with that girl. Oh, and I’m also sorry I brainwashed you into “admitting” you were the one who scribbled all over the toilet seat with mom’s mascara – I know it was me. I’m also sorry I threw the cat on you while you were taking a bath, and that I shot model rocket engines at you out of a homemade PVC pipe “bazooka.” Oh man, no wonder?

OK, so I posted Thursday’s and Friday’s at the same time. Sue me, Dave out.

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are you her dad?

This picture in no way means I'm about to be a dad..
Ahh.. only two days into the GDM project and already I’m discovering some problems. I decided to make doubly sure all my rips were perfect and error free, so I did some more random sampling of the albums ripped so far. What got me thinking was the behavior of the cd-r/w drive that I’ve been using to rip the discs. It’s been getting “hung up” when I put new discs in, almost like it’s having trouble reading them. That got me a little paranoid, so I started checking songs. Sure enough, there were bad rips in there. Some albums were ripped so bad that it made listening impossible. I had to start from scratch again using my dvd-r/w drive as the ripping source. I’ve also downloaded some tools to check MP3s for errors, so I can run a quick “check” after each album is ripped. It’s not perfect, however, since I found at least one error it didn’t by listening. So, the quality-control on this effort has to be top-notch or I could end up with a bunch of useless MP3s with no source to revert to. Changed my encoder too, yippee. It’s all on the page.

The other day I went up to Anthony’s daughter’s school to check out some big production all the 6th graders were doing for their “country reports.” They set up the auditorium with big props from their countries, and served regional foods from those countries. It was cool. Near the end of the event, Brontë was hanging out with Sharaun and I and one of her friends came up and started talking to us. At some point, she turned to me and asked “Are you her dad?” Now, it didn’t hit me at the time – I simply said “No.” But? am I her dad?! For real guys, I must be totally old if kids are mistaking me for the father of a 6th grader. Maybe it’s the thinning hair, or the way I carry myself with so much authority. Ugh? whatever, I’m totally old.

I was pumped to get the news today that the house appraisal came back extremely positive. The refi closes this month and then we get back $400/mo. Sheesh that’s gonna help with the house. It’s time to work on getting some furniture, finishing the backyard, painting, getting some pictures for the wall, and all other sorts of domestic-like projects that we’ve been to destitute to get into.

This has been a mediocre week for the blog. Lackluster entries that are short and not fun to read. Sorry. I guess I’ve been preoccupied with other stuff. We’re no longer going down to Chowchilla today, so I have the weekend to do some sprinkler prep.

Grateful Dead on 3wk, “… Jack Straw from Wichita…” Dave out.

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urticarian inklings

Still one of the best albums of this past year, I'm listening to it again.

I’m totally going to the doctor. Beginning last Wednesday, I started getting all blotchy-red and itchy at seemingly random times. At first I noticed it early in the morning on the way to work, now I’ve pinpointed it as coming on with temperature change. Every time I go inside from outside, get out of the shower or get wet going wakeboarding – my skin turns mottled red, and I itch like crazy. If I scratch, it only gets worse. Sometimes there are hives, but mostly it’s just the rash. It’s been consistently happening several times a day for over a week now – and I’m getting tired of it. WebMD wasn’t too helpful, other than suggesting it might be the HepB (don’t you die from that?), so maybe the doc can help me out. I’m sure he’ll just be baffled and give me some antihistamines, I have no faith in general practitioners.

I made some good headway in the GDM project last night, setting up the 120GB RAID1 array and ripping several discs. I’ve been spot-checking the resulting MP3 copies to make sure they’re not funky, and I’ve been totally impressed with the quality of the rips. I’m using the Radium-hacked Fraunhoffer Group codec instead of LAME, since I like it a little better. I expect the first batch sale to happen sometime next week.

Speaking of next week, I looked at making reservations for the semi-impromptu overnight trip to Yosemite – and of course all the campsites in the entire park are full that night. I swear, finding a campsite there come April is near impossible. We’re gonna take our chances with the walk-in camping in the valley. It’s first come first served, so we’ll have to roll in pretty early. But at $5/night per person, and up to 6 people per spot – it’s perfect for what we need. I think we can arrive early enough to snag a spot.

Seems I’ve hit a sore spot with my parents with my kind-hearted jab at them in the Cast page bio for my in-laws. Apparently they saw that write up when I linked it from an earlier blog this week and were shocked by my referencing them as the “AV club” compared to Sharaun’s folks. Well, first I had to explain to them that by calling them the “AV club” I meant they were nerds, you know – the Audio-Visual club from high school? Anyway, my mom wrote me an e-mail defending her coolness – and my dad called me admitting his nerdiness but telling me that mom was cool. I guess that’s right, my dad’s the true nerd. My mom has always been cool, and I think she was even cooler before the years of being with dad rubbed off on her. Owell guys, I wouldn’t like you nearly as much if you were bungee-jumping nudists or vegan hippies? so be glad for your nerdiness because it’s what I’ve come to love.

Dave out.

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guitars and falsetto voices

Throw 'em up! Throw 'em up ya'll! What what. When I say ho you say ho... ugh...
Gonna be a short one, no time to write last night so I’m cobbling something together now. Things are at ludicrous speed in preparation for my Taiwan trip next week, I’ve got to generate a lot of material for the trip, and it ain’t gonna happen unless I keep a pretty tight schedule.

In the throes of our refi, dealing with appraisers and brokers and whatnot. Conversing with neighbors about the seemingly too-good-to-be-true appreciation rates, it’s all so grown-up. Mowing lawns and planting trees and cleaning, I’ve become suburban Joe America. If I end up cooking burgers on the grill in the backyard while the kids and dog play in the sprinklers, my conversion to a 50’s sitcom stereotype will finally be complete.

Man was I wrong about the show last night. For some reason, I thought we were going to see N.E.R.D open for the Roots. Turns out the Roots weren’t even playing – I still have no idea where I got that from. Not only that, N.E.R.D. was the headliner, and the Black Eyed Peas opened for them. My first rap concert. Clipse opened the entire show, playing some of the radio staple “drink alcohol, smoke marijuana, spend and make lots of money, and be sure to have lots of sex all the time” tunes I expect from rap. But the BEP and N.E.R.D. were different, each with a real backing band and the stage presence so sorely absent from the Clipse entourage. The tone of the show changed from “look at me rap I’m so rich and I just had sex with your girlfriend,” to “we’re here to entertain you and have a good time.” Anyway, above all – it was still a rap show, and I am still not that big a fan of rap. N.E.R.D. is more rock than anything, and both they and the BEP were entertaining enough. But for some reason I just can get into them like I can a bunch of nerdy dudes with guitars and falsetto voices. Go figure.

We didn’t end up getting home until around 2:30am, which means Sharaun got only 2hrs sleep before waking up for work. I wonder if we consciously hold our pee while we sleep? Dave out.

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humping invisible sticks

You are standing in an open feild west of a white house, with a boarded front door. There is a mailbox here.
I love Zork. I even once started making my own text adventure game using the wonderful and free TADS system. I got one brilliant room finished before I lost interest. I’d like to try again one day, yeah. If you’ve never played Zork before, you are not a true computer nerd. This online Java version even supports saving and loading of game states so you can play anywhere and take your progress with you. Beware though, you can get addicted pretty quick.

Today I am not at work, I’m at home and it’s awesome. I took a vacation day since the drywall guy was coming out to do some repair work for my home warranty. Turns out he was a really nice guy, and took pity on me when I showed him my poorly-repaired laundry room ceiling. You know, where Wes put his foot through? Anyway, in addition to fixing the warranty items he came out for, he fixed the laundry room ceiling for $40 cash. Beats the $150 minimum charge that most drywall guys charge. And now he’s gone and I have the rest of the day to myself. I told myself last night that I would use some of this time to get some cleaning done around the house, but that hasn’t happened yet.

I migrated Sharaun’s PC to the freeware program last night, and moved my own one step closer by swapping a hacked Norton AntiVirus for the free AVG. No more stealin’. Oh, except for mp3s? I will “steal” those forever. Right now I download on average about 7 gigs a month of mp3, they have their own external 120GB drive to live on. Granted some gets tossed out once I learn it’s crap – but I keep the majority of it. Sometimes I download stuff I know I won’t like, just because there’s so much bustle about it online.

For instance, in general I’m not a hip-hop fan at all. Now, I do make the occasional exception – I loved Jay Z’s Black Album and Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, for instance. But for the most part I pass on the hip and the hop. (Oh, and don’t bother with the Grey Album folks – it’s mostly hype). But when I saw Pitchfork give Madvillain’s new album the uber-rare 9+ rating and call it “inexhaustibly brilliant” while daring me to find “a better hip-hop album this year,” I had to try it out. So, I grabbed it (no, I don’t use P2P and I’m not a’scared of the RIAA, get on the NNTP train people). Surprisingly, I like it. The beats are intricate and the Carlinesque 7-words style filth that so dominates mainstream rap and hip-hop is completely, and thankfully, missing. Granted, it’s chock full of marijuana imagery? but what undie hip hop isn’t? Imagine, songs with beats and rhymes not about “humping invisible sticks” and “sweat dripping down balls.” This album reminds me of the stuff we’d pick up after reading about it in the back of High Times, you know – the purple-haze-days of Dr. Octagon and Y’all So Stupid. What?! Rap sucks.

The weekend calls me away, I’m out.

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rock renaissance

Cool at 12. Even cooler at 70.
$1700. That how much damage a stupid dump truck spilling gravel can do to your car. I mean, I’m sure it could be worse than that – but that’s how much damage a stupid dump truck spilling gravel did to our car. A while back though, I got smart and lowered our deductible to $250 for comprehensive – it used to be $500. It only raised the rate by a buck a month to do it, and it’s way worth it. $250 is not a break-me unexpected out-of-pocket expense, but $500 is a lot closer to that break-me limit. So, now we drop $250 on the stupid deductible. Not only that, my brother called today asking for money… again. Last year we sent him about $1200 that we’ll never see again, and this year Sharaun told me no more. He only wanted $100, which to me isn’t even worth the wire fee to get it to him. Wes suggested I tell him to check out one of those Check-and-Go paycheck advance places, I think I’ll do that. Money sucks sometimes.

I’ve been experiencing somewhat of a classic rock renaissance lately, pulling out all the music that taught me to love music. Right now I’m listening to Sgt. Pepper, perhaps the best album ever made – certainly the most influential and probably the most important. I can remember the first time I heard it, on the way to the Merritt Island Mall one summer night. Middle school was all about going to the mall for no reason. We would walk around, go into stores and not buy anything, stop at the arcade and maybe play a game or two, and get a slice of pizza from Sbarro and a smoothie from Nature’s Table. It was all about just “being there,” making the rounds, talking to the other cool kids who had perfected the art of loitering. Yeah, so sometimes we’d cash in our dollars for rolls of pennies to throw at old people, but that was a rarity.

Anyway, Kyle’s mom was driving Kyle, Kyle’s sister, and myself to the mall. I was madly in love with Kyle’s sister (well, as “in love” as a guy can be in the 7th grade). The song “It’s Getting Better” was on, and I remember thinking it was the best thing I’d ever heard. Combined with a feeling of 7th grade puppy love and a burgeoning sense of teenage independence, Sgt. Pepper was the perfect soundtrack. I had the album on vinyl, and would often put it on the stereo in my room at top volume. I’d open all the windows, lay down on the floor in the middle of all four speakers for the best stereophonic effect, and fall asleep in the sun. How could things get any better? For a few years there, my life was wholly consumed by music and girls – no debt, no job, no responsibilities. Bow my head slightly, tap my fist twice against my chest and raise a peace sign to the sky – that’s for you middle school.

To the present day, the weather is once again awesome today. I’ve heard tell that it may rain this weekend – but I can’t believe it when it’s so nice out. Honestly, it’s hazardous to go out for lunch – just getting out in the sun and seeing the sky propels my “I wanna go back to work” stores to critical levels. What, I’ve said that same thing nearly every day for a week now? Damn. Hoping that my upcoming trip to Taiwan and day off this Friday will help balance out that feeling a bit. Speaking of Taiwan, looks like I’ll be there for just over a week this time. I’m excited, since several people I know will be in town around the same time – and since I always like to travel. I only hope that I can make the most out of the trip, maybe see something I’ve not seen before. Plus, one more trip and I’ll just about have enough flyer miles for a free ticket to Europe.

I have more, but my fingers just aren’t willing. Dave out.

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sucking ice

Smokey 3D!.
I went to the dollar store a while ago, and I bought a bag of marbles. I haven’t done anything with that bag of marbles. It’s still sitting here on my desk cinched up like the day I got it. Why did I buy these marbles guys? I know why. Because I love marbles. I always have. Marbles are so cool. Something about little glass spheres with wavy colors in them. They are awesome. I remember my brother and I used to try and play the “real” marbles? you know, with the circle and all? but it never worked out. I like the sound they make when you crunch them around in your hands. Marbles are awesome y’all.

It’s about 9:30pm right now, and I’m sitting here with all the windows open. I’ve got on a button-down Hawaiian shirt that’s not buttoned, just letting it all hang out as they say. An awesome breeze is blowing through the house and I’m listening to some group called “The Autumn Defense” that I just downloaded from the newsies. Apparently, they have some kind of familial relationship to Wilco. They kind of remind me of Buffalo Springfield’s softer moments, good music for a warm night alone with the windows open. Not sure the album’s good enough to not delete – but it hits the spot tonight. Sometimes complacency and contentment is only a nice breeze and good song away.

Word is I’m headed back to Taiwan in two weeks. I actually suggested this trip. There are some things I wanna take care of in person over there – to make the right impression. I’m excited, I really like it over there. Also turns out Ben will be there for the beginning of my stay, and Pat and Wes will be there towards the end. Also some of the other Taiwan-travel regulars will be around, so it should be a good time. Looking forward to some more mantis-prawns and chicken heads. Bring your worst Taipei, I’m ready.

I got a tattoo one morning, my freshman year in college. Jeremy, my roommate at the time, and I were skipping class as usual. Driving around by the river listening to Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness (on of the classics of my generation, by the way). We would always skip our morning classes, go buy some chili-cheese nachos from 7-11 for breakfast, and head down to the river. We’d usually just sit and talk, him smoking his Newports and I my Djarums. When I was in high school, I used some spare time in drafting class to make a geometrically perfect Traffic symbol. Traffic was a band from the late 60s to mid 70s, Steve Winwood came from Traffic, and are one of my favorite bands. Anyway, I always kept it in my wallet – because I always knew one day I wanted a tattoo of it.

This morning I got the urge, and stopped at what, looking back, was probably not the best tattoo parlor in Florida. The place was called “Altered Images” I think – and it was housed in a trailer off the freeway, next to a small flea market. But hey, it was like 5min from college? so it was an easy target. When we walked in, the lone artist was sitting on a couch with a large snake. He put the snake away, and I showed him my drawing. I pointed to where I wanted the ink, on my chest above my left breast. He sat me down, had me sign the AIDS waivers, shaved my chest and transferred the image to my skin using deodorant and colored pencils.

Before I knew it I had the black outline of the symbol on me. Before we filled the shape in with red, Jeremy and I went outside for a smoke. I remember thinking what an awesome morning it was, and how glad I was to not be in class. I went back in and laid on the table while he finished. After a while, he said “I’m done. Oh, and I added a cool ‘smoke’ effect to give the thing a real 3D look like it’s standing off the skin.” Umm? excuse me what? I mean, this is my first tattoo and all, but is it normal for a tattoo artist to take some artistic liberty when he inks? I never asked for this gay-ass “smoke” effect! It makes the outlines look all fuzzy and messed up. In fact, I think he messed up and tried to do something to cover it up. Whatever, I gave up the $80 and was outta there. I’m still glad I got it. It gets recognized. It got recognized while I was drug-stuck to the New Orleans dirt one afternoon. “Hey, nice Traffic tattoo,” some guy said as I watched legs go by – my eyes the only muscles I could move. Wanna hear about it?

Flash forward a year or so. Jeremy and I decide to take a trip to New Orleans to see Jazzfest. Jazzfest is the biggest thing in New Orleans next to Mari Gras. There are literally hundreds of musicians in town, playing in clubs, arenas, and on a huge open-air fairgrounds. We went specifically to see Van Morrison. Which is where our story begins. We drove down to the French quarter and caught a cab to the fairgrounds. We were standing in a huge crowd waiting for Van to come on stage, when some guy in front of me started smoking weed from one of those fake ceramic cigarettes. He offered me a hit, so I took it. Now, I hadn’t smoked anything in years at this point, and I have always been a lightweight? so that one hit had me feeling just about perfect. Van got on stage and the show was great.

Around the third song, an Asian kid wandering by asked me if I had light. He was holding a joint, and I knew that if I offered him my lighter – he’d reciprocate by offering me a toke. Now, I really didn’t want a toke, but I offered the lighter anyway – sparking his joint as he inhaled. He then proffered the thing to me with a smile. I’ll never forget the blue Sonic Youth “Washing Machine” shirt this kid had on. I took one hit, handed the joint back, and immediately knew something was very wrong. Whatever I had just inhaled was now seemingly expanding tenfold in my lungs, kicking like a horse to get out. I felt a feeling I’d never felt before, something different in the smoke itself. I turned to ask the kid if the weed was cut with something, but he was long gone.

So there I stood. Well, for about ten minutes I stood. Then I sat. And finally I laid down. I was completely out of it. I can remember sweating like I was in a sauna, just dripping with sweat and not wanting to move. At this point, I think Jeremy was a little embarrassed that he was with me – and was totally ignoring me while watching me out of the corner of his eye. I remember someone coming through the crowd and asking if I was OK. I remember someone misting me with a spray-bottle of water, and finally some kind soul dropped a huge chunk of ice near me – seeing I was obviously dehydrated. I sucked on that piece of ice for almost the entire show, I can still see the bits of grass and dirt on it. All I remember from the music is the pounding bass I could hear with my ear to the dirt.

When the show was over, I could hardly stand up. I made Jeremy carry everything we had brought in, because for some reason I didn’t think I could carry things and walk at the same time. It was so busy getting out of the park.. we didn’t make it to a cab and back to the car for over an hour. By that time, I guess I was acting pretty together – because Jeremy let me drive us back to the hotel. About halfway there, while driving down the highway, I suddenly let out an expletive. “What?” Jeremy asked. “Dude, we forgot to get the car!” I replied. Yeah, he made me pull over and let him drive. Whatever was in that joint besides weed, I didn’t like it. Didn’t have any grass after that for another two years, and only then because it was the Grateful Dead festival. I mean, c’mon right? Who doesn’t eat a Ganja Gooball or three at the friggin’ Grateful Dead festival? Ever heard Dark Star?! Try listening to that awesome song and not eating some chocolate-oatmeal bud-candy.

But guys, I don’t do the drugs anymore. Haven’t partaken of any of that mess since college. No plans to ever again either. Stay clean guys, it’s more funner anyways. I promise. And now, the weekend. Until Monday – Dave out.