Stockholm was a destination on Ennio Morricone's farewell tour. Or 60 years of music tour. Hard to say what the proper title really is. Either way, if you have a chance to see a living legend, you take it. Nothing like a live performance of "The Ecstasy of Gold" conducted by the composer.
And probably the only time in my life where the audience whooped, cheered, and whistled for an orchestral performance, which is almost too bad. People should always be that excited for concerts, no matter what the genre.
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Monday, January 28, 2019
Saturday, January 26, 2019
Friday 5: Teal This Album
I didn't realize that "Africa" had become a thing again in the year of our Lord 2019. Along with Weezer and Weird Al? Time is meaningless anymore.
Where in Africa would you like to visit?
There are lots of places, really. Soudha is in Singapore for university right now, if memory serves, but her travel logs series on Of Stacks and Cups really made me want to visit Mauritius. One of my teacher friends and former coworkers studied in Ghana for a semester when she was in university and made it sound like a lovely place to visit. Tunisia, Morocco, and Egypt are also on my "someday" travel list.
If you ruled the world, what would you forbid people to talk about in the company of strangers?
Nothing, actually. Even the most banal smalltalk has its purpose.
In what way do you tolerate (or enjoy) being used?
I'll file this one under "that's a little personal, don't you think?" and move along to the next question.
When did you recently have an a-ha moment?
About something or other at work, I'm sure. I feel like I have at least one every day.
What’s something you know about turtles?
Nothing that the average person doesn't already know. I'm not terribly knowledgeable about these little guys.
Where in Africa would you like to visit?
There are lots of places, really. Soudha is in Singapore for university right now, if memory serves, but her travel logs series on Of Stacks and Cups really made me want to visit Mauritius. One of my teacher friends and former coworkers studied in Ghana for a semester when she was in university and made it sound like a lovely place to visit. Tunisia, Morocco, and Egypt are also on my "someday" travel list.
If you ruled the world, what would you forbid people to talk about in the company of strangers?
Nothing, actually. Even the most banal smalltalk has its purpose.
In what way do you tolerate (or enjoy) being used?
I'll file this one under "that's a little personal, don't you think?" and move along to the next question.
When did you recently have an a-ha moment?
About something or other at work, I'm sure. I feel like I have at least one every day.
What’s something you know about turtles?
Nothing that the average person doesn't already know. I'm not terribly knowledgeable about these little guys.
Saturday, January 19, 2019
Friday 5 on Saturday: Move
What’s a song that recently moved you?
I still cry at "Rhapsody in Blue." Every damn time.
What’s a song that recently moved you — right out the door?
Not a song as such, but a request.
When I lived in Korea, I used to go on long, late-night walks with another teacher friend of mine. By this time the pedestrian mall and downtown ("downtown") Uijeongbu had been fully refurbished, with bits of greenery and benches and sculptures. It soon attracted any number of buskers, and in the warmer months our walks included stopping to take in a few songs.
One time we passed such a performance in front of an audience including a few drunk white men who were already on their way to behaving badly. We lingered, unsure if we could enjoy the music over the poor behavior.
"If one of them requests 'Freebird,' I'm going to lose my shit," I mentioned to my walking companion, quietly and out of earshot of said potential troublemakers.
"What? Why?"
And as if on cue, one of them slurred "FREEBIRD!" and I had to feign a coughing fit to cover a scream of frustration. I nodded to my friend, who was still confused, and we kept walking while I explained the pointless tradition of requesting "Freebird" at concerts, regardless of artist or genre.
What kinds of dance performances interest you?
Not many, I'll admit. I don't have much interest in watching anything except tap or swing. I've watched to many Hollywood movie musicals, I guess.
What’s a good song with the word move (or some form of it) in the title?
I will never not post a Janis Joplin song if I have the opportunity to do so.
How do you feel about prunes?
I've never had them. But since I like raisins, I'd probably like prunes.
I still cry at "Rhapsody in Blue." Every damn time.
What’s a song that recently moved you — right out the door?
Not a song as such, but a request.
When I lived in Korea, I used to go on long, late-night walks with another teacher friend of mine. By this time the pedestrian mall and downtown ("downtown") Uijeongbu had been fully refurbished, with bits of greenery and benches and sculptures. It soon attracted any number of buskers, and in the warmer months our walks included stopping to take in a few songs.
One time we passed such a performance in front of an audience including a few drunk white men who were already on their way to behaving badly. We lingered, unsure if we could enjoy the music over the poor behavior.
"If one of them requests 'Freebird,' I'm going to lose my shit," I mentioned to my walking companion, quietly and out of earshot of said potential troublemakers.
"What? Why?"
And as if on cue, one of them slurred "FREEBIRD!" and I had to feign a coughing fit to cover a scream of frustration. I nodded to my friend, who was still confused, and we kept walking while I explained the pointless tradition of requesting "Freebird" at concerts, regardless of artist or genre.
What kinds of dance performances interest you?
Not many, I'll admit. I don't have much interest in watching anything except tap or swing. I've watched to many Hollywood movie musicals, I guess.
What’s a good song with the word move (or some form of it) in the title?
I will never not post a Janis Joplin song if I have the opportunity to do so.
How do you feel about prunes?
I've never had them. But since I like raisins, I'd probably like prunes.
Friday, May 11, 2018
Friday 5: Vive Le Difference
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| Image courtesy Brian Chan at Unsplash |
What’s a food that tastes completely unlike anything else you can think of?
This one is taking a lot of thought. I mean, lots of things have a relatively distinct taste, right? Even if everything also tastes like chicken.
I imagine surströmming is singular in its taste. (I say that having never tried it. I don't dig on fish.) I also have a hard time with the artificial sweetener Splenda: it leaves a distinctly coppery aftertaste that ruins anything it touches.
What’s a movie that’s completely unlike any movie you can think of?
Russian Ark is a weird but surprisingly enjoyable artsy look at the history of the St. Petersburg Hermitage that's all one long 90-ish minute shot.
Who’s a musician or band you consider completely unoriginal but whom you still like?
I think it's a given that most popular top 40 bands and artists cleave to the lowest common denominator instead of doing anything groundbreaking, but most of the music on my phone is popular top 40 bops (and obscure international indie bands) because it's good workout music.
Who or what are two people or things you keep mixing up with one another?
To this day I still confuse Silent Hill and Resident Evil (the video games, not the movies). No doubt there are countless celebrities that I mix up as well, because I'm not good at keeping track of famous names and faces.
What’s something you’ll do this weekend that’s different from your normal weekend activity?
Not much, really. I might do a little more enthusiastic cleaning than I would normally. The apartment isn't in an awful state yet, but an ounce of prevention and all of that.
Friday, May 4, 2018
Friday 5: Aloon Again, Naturally
With which Looney Tunes character do you have the most in common?
I didn't care much for Looney Tunes as a kid. The physical humor that's inherent in the genre has never been my cup of tea. I'll cheat and say Shirley the Loon from Tiny Toons.
Who or what are your metaphorical Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote?
I don't think I have a Wile E. Coyote (I hope not!). But we all have a Road Runner, don't we? Mine is a totally stress-free vacation. One day...
What’s up, doc?
That's all, folks!
When did you last hear some opera music?
I listen to a lot of classical music while I edit and translate. That doesn't usually include opera, since I find vocals distracting, but the Fidelio overture came up in my playlist yesterday.
What’s a good life lesson you learned from Looney Tunes?
You can't always get what you want, and often when you do, it's not as good as you hoped it would be.
I didn't care much for Looney Tunes as a kid. The physical humor that's inherent in the genre has never been my cup of tea. I'll cheat and say Shirley the Loon from Tiny Toons.
Who or what are your metaphorical Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote?
I don't think I have a Wile E. Coyote (I hope not!). But we all have a Road Runner, don't we? Mine is a totally stress-free vacation. One day...
What’s up, doc?
That's all, folks!
When did you last hear some opera music?
I listen to a lot of classical music while I edit and translate. That doesn't usually include opera, since I find vocals distracting, but the Fidelio overture came up in my playlist yesterday.
What’s a good life lesson you learned from Looney Tunes?
You can't always get what you want, and often when you do, it's not as good as you hoped it would be.
Friday, April 13, 2018
Friday 5: The Shine of A Thousand Spotlights
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| Image courtesy Jacob Morch on Unsplash |
What physical trait are you (or have you been) self-conscious about?
Hi guys, I could write a whole novel on being fat! But so many other writers handle it better, so rather than go into it myself I'll just post links to two writers whose perspectives helped me get right with Fat Jesus.
Dances With Fat
Jill Grunenwald (and her memoirs Running With a Police Escort)
Even though I've gotten right with Fat Jesus, small things remain. Mostly my nose. I don't hate it enough to go under the knife, and my human brain recognizes that it's a perfectly normal nose, but my lizard brain can't stop comparing it to adorable ski jump button noses. Even actresses who are constantly put on "quirky beauties" or "big noses" or whatever lists don't have the same kind of nose I do.
When did you last do something risking injury?
I guess going for a run always risks injury, right? So depending on when this post goes up, either Wednesday or today.
Why do critics and the general movie-going public never seem to agree?
I'd say the operative word is "seem." I suspect most of the time critical opinions and the public's opinions are generally in line. Otherwise I imagine that the contributing factor is that movie critics are a self-selecting group of people who gravitate towards the arts and appreciate, even crave, novelty in the form and as a result they're generally more appreciate of movies that are subtle or unusual. Most people watch movies for comfort or entertainment rather than critical engagement, and so they're more drawn towards predictable (or surprising-within-predictable-schemas) and comforting rather than challenging or difficult.
How do you feel about Hugh Jackman as an actor?
#NotMyWolverine
Who is the best singer you’ve seen in live performance?
I don't really go to live music performances that often. (Aside from the odd years where I can make it to Musikfest.) I guess two come to mind:
Ssingssing, with lead singer Lee Hee-moon
Black Masala, with singer Kristen Long (though my memory of their Musikfest performance seems to have a different singer?)
Friday, March 2, 2018
Friday 5: Rockit
What’s your favorite instrumental hit song?
You can never go wrong with Booker T and the MG's! Anything by them is great, but the one you know is "Green Onions." (And yes, really, you know it.)
What’s a good movie with rockets in in it?
October Sky? Apollo 13? I assume they're good; I haven't seen either in a long time.
In 1977, Voyager I took off on its very long journey, loaded with two golden records containing sounds meant “to portray the diversity of life and culture on Earth, and are intended for any intelligent extraterrestrial life form, or for future humans, who may find them,” according to Wikipedia. The contents were chosen by a committee chaired by Carl Sagan, but if Dr. Sagan called you today (you know, from beyond) and said there was room for ten more minutes of music and he was letting you choose it, what would you fill the ten minutes with?
Oh man, what a toughie! The original list is actually quite diverse (NASA has the playlist posted here) so the obvious answer would be musical genres that didn't really peak until after 1977. Rap and hip-hop are, then, obvious contenders. Lauryn Hill's "Everything is Everything" has long been one of my favorites and incorporates the best elements of the genre.
And then for peak silly (because what are humans if not silly?), "Gangnam Style." Of course, aliens won't be able to understand what's so silly about the song if they just listen to it divorced from the music video, but maybe they'll still like the beat.
And much as I love Bach (the Brandenburg concertos are part of my work playlist), I would suggest maybe taking a couple of those of in favor of something else.
What’s something you know about constellations?
That for a star nerd, I'm really bad about actually being able to point them out. I can find Orion and Cassiopeia, and that's about it. Finding the north star? Forget it.
When did you last spend time in a rocking chair?
So long that I can't remember.
You can never go wrong with Booker T and the MG's! Anything by them is great, but the one you know is "Green Onions." (And yes, really, you know it.)
What’s a good movie with rockets in in it?
October Sky? Apollo 13? I assume they're good; I haven't seen either in a long time.
In 1977, Voyager I took off on its very long journey, loaded with two golden records containing sounds meant “to portray the diversity of life and culture on Earth, and are intended for any intelligent extraterrestrial life form, or for future humans, who may find them,” according to Wikipedia. The contents were chosen by a committee chaired by Carl Sagan, but if Dr. Sagan called you today (you know, from beyond) and said there was room for ten more minutes of music and he was letting you choose it, what would you fill the ten minutes with?
Oh man, what a toughie! The original list is actually quite diverse (NASA has the playlist posted here) so the obvious answer would be musical genres that didn't really peak until after 1977. Rap and hip-hop are, then, obvious contenders. Lauryn Hill's "Everything is Everything" has long been one of my favorites and incorporates the best elements of the genre.
And then for peak silly (because what are humans if not silly?), "Gangnam Style." Of course, aliens won't be able to understand what's so silly about the song if they just listen to it divorced from the music video, but maybe they'll still like the beat.
And much as I love Bach (the Brandenburg concertos are part of my work playlist), I would suggest maybe taking a couple of those of in favor of something else.
What’s something you know about constellations?
That for a star nerd, I'm really bad about actually being able to point them out. I can find Orion and Cassiopeia, and that's about it. Finding the north star? Forget it.
When did you last spend time in a rocking chair?
So long that I can't remember.
Monday, January 22, 2018
Saturday Night in London with Rob Kemp's The Elvis Dead
When you grow up watching Mystery Science Theater 3000, it breeds in you a taste for a certain kind of movie. The usual descriptor is "bad," as per the theme song lyrics:
I'll send him cheesy movies
the worst I can find
but I think a better concept might be "ambitious." Movies that tried really hard, but were limited by budget, poor casting choices, or real life setbacks and hardships. Sometimes ambitious movies turn out okay, or even great; sometimes they turn out, well, bad.
Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead is one of those ambitious movies, and naturally I love it. I came to the series backwards, first by way of Army of Darkness at 13? 14? and then circling back to The Evil Dead a few years later. So when the weekly email digest of The Guardian had a headline about a comedy show called The Elvis Dead, a one-man mash-up of Elvis and Evil Dead II, my interest was piqued. When the tickets were only 17 GBP, I said, "Why not?" and booked a ticket and an overnight trip to London.
THIS SHOW, YOU GUYS. THIS SHOW.
First of all, I'm genuinely surprised to see something like this coming out of the UK—I won't deny Elvis Presley's universal appeal and and acclaim, but the gags in the Karo syrup drenched zombie quasi-comedy, with its gross-out, slapstick humor, seem very American: a little (or a lot) more lowbrow compared to British comedy standards. I don't think I'm entirely off-base with that assessment; if the polling-by-audience-decibel-levels method is anything to rely on, it seems that maybe about a third of the audience, at least, had never seen Evil Dead II before the show, including my two table mates.
Maybe they were Elvis fans?
It was the best Saturday night I've had in a dog's age (since I usually work straight until 7 PM on Saturdays). I don't know if I can articulate what I was expecting, except maybe a standard Evil Dead II screening punctuated by more or less sedate, amateur renditions of reworked Elvis tunes at appropriate moments. What I got was so much more than that. The Elvis Dead was a one-man physical comedy act that didn't let up for the entire time, with ingenius low-budget real-time effects solutions. It doesn't hurt, either, that Kemp actually sings, and sings well (from what little an amateur such as me can judge)*, while throwing himself around the stage, smashing plates on his head and struggling with his own demon-possessed hand. A lesser man would have lip-synched during this extremely physical show.
Kemp is a warm and amiable guy when he's not fighting imaginary Deadites on stage, and was generous about getting photos with people after the show.
He even patiently let possibly drunk, definitely very exhausted but also thrilled me gush at him about the show before some generous soul in the line snapped a few pictures of me with him. Thanks, random stranger! And apologies to everyone else in line for taking up your valuable time with my fangirl bullshit.
It's a long shot, but hopefully he'll do a European tour before retiring the show? With a stop in Stockholm? I mean, if Jimmy Carr can deign to visit Göteberg...
*The one and only clip on YouTube of his performance, should you go a-Googlin', doesn't do justice to the performance I saw last Saturday. Not sure whether Kemp's voice was nearly blown out at the time of the recording, or if he's done some serious vocal training since August, or both. (Or maybe the sound quality of the recording just isn't that great.) But either way I don't think it's fair to use it here as anything indicative of what the show was actually like. Maybe SoHo Theatre will upload some footage of their own, soon?
Maybe they were Elvis fans?
It was the best Saturday night I've had in a dog's age (since I usually work straight until 7 PM on Saturdays). I don't know if I can articulate what I was expecting, except maybe a standard Evil Dead II screening punctuated by more or less sedate, amateur renditions of reworked Elvis tunes at appropriate moments. What I got was so much more than that. The Elvis Dead was a one-man physical comedy act that didn't let up for the entire time, with ingenius low-budget real-time effects solutions. It doesn't hurt, either, that Kemp actually sings, and sings well (from what little an amateur such as me can judge)*, while throwing himself around the stage, smashing plates on his head and struggling with his own demon-possessed hand. A lesser man would have lip-synched during this extremely physical show.
Kemp is a warm and amiable guy when he's not fighting imaginary Deadites on stage, and was generous about getting photos with people after the show.
He even patiently let possibly drunk, definitely very exhausted but also thrilled me gush at him about the show before some generous soul in the line snapped a few pictures of me with him. Thanks, random stranger! And apologies to everyone else in line for taking up your valuable time with my fangirl bullshit.
It's a long shot, but hopefully he'll do a European tour before retiring the show? With a stop in Stockholm? I mean, if Jimmy Carr can deign to visit Göteberg...
*The one and only clip on YouTube of his performance, should you go a-Googlin', doesn't do justice to the performance I saw last Saturday. Not sure whether Kemp's voice was nearly blown out at the time of the recording, or if he's done some serious vocal training since August, or both. (Or maybe the sound quality of the recording just isn't that great.) But either way I don't think it's fair to use it here as anything indicative of what the show was actually like. Maybe SoHo Theatre will upload some footage of their own, soon?
Friday, January 12, 2018
Friday 5: Seasons
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| Image courtesy Chris Lawton |
What foods are most representative of each of the four seasons?
Summer for me is ice cream, strawberries, smoothies, and salads. Fall is apple EVERYTHING, and tea. Winter is chili and more tea, and also cookies. Spring is a trash fire of a season and I hate it.
What are good songs to represent each of the four seasons?
What would be good films to represent each of the four seasons?
I always watch The Big Lebowksi on New Year's Eve. I don't know how or when or even why I picked up this habit, but there it is, so that's my pick for winter. I also always watch Groundhog Day on, well, Groundhog Day, but I think that's close enough to spring to count. (Again, spring is a garbage season and I hate it.) Alternatively, I always like to watch The Pirates of Penzance on Leap Day, which is that much closer to spring, so maybe that one? The Fourth of July is always a good time to watch something with explosions and punches and ridiculousness: "(Jason) Bourne on the Fourth of July," for example. Or a Rambo marathon, or Independence Day. Any one of those will work. And with Halloween, fall is the perfect time for your favorite scary movie. I have a soft spot for mid-century horror movies, myself: spooky but not terrifying. The best of those isn't even a horror movie, it's a straight-up black comedy: The Comedy of Terrors. Vincent Price, u da reel MVP.
If you could divide the calendar year into four seasons some other way with some other theme besides weather or major professional sports, where would each seasons begin and end, and what would each be called?
If there were any rhyme or reason or pattern to my Etsy sales, that would probably be a way to do it: busy seasons and off seasons. The same goes for editing. But whether or not I'm busy with those seems pretty arbitrary, at least for now, so...meh.
What’s something in your area that’s extra fun in the winter?
I guess if you like skiing, there's that. But I don't. There's nothing really extra fun about winter for me.
Tuesday, January 9, 2018
Talky Tuesday: What I Did on My Summer Vacation, Days 9 and 10: Bethlehem, PA
Day 9
After I wake up from my late 'fest night, I catch the LANTA bus like usual. I realize as soon as I get to the bus stop that I left my phone at Best Chemist Friend's. Priscilla is also too old to run Google hangouts so I'm just kind of cut off from the world until I meet her for dinner with my parents later.
I read some more out of Her Smoke Rises Up Forever while I wait for the bus. The guy sitting next to me—probably in his 40s, has a pattern to his speech that suggests some kind of mental or cognitive disorder—sees my 'fest mug and starts talking. I oblige but give him a fake name, and sure enough the question comes up:
"Are you single?"
"No," I answer, shaking my head.
"Are you married?"
"Yes." Technically correct; the best kind of correct. His interest immediately diminishes, but I still breathe a sigh of relief when he gets on a different bus.
It's another day of cleaning and purging. I find an old notebook with details of part of a trip I took to Chicago back in 2009 and type it up, along with some travel notes from this trip.
With the books mostly whittled down, cleaning and purging now comes to the gifts and knick-knacks and things that I like and have had for years, but have to put through the "Do I want to pay money to ship it across the ocean?" gauntlet. More than a few things don't survive that.
I drop off the bag of goods outside, then wander inside for the first time in four years (I never managed to drop in while I was home in October). I stay long enough to see if there was a belt that might really work with the dress I had for the wedding, but leave empty-handed.
The rest of the day is uneventful except for dinner with Best Chemist Friend and my parents, when I get my phone back.
Day 10
Today I'm scheduled to hang out with blog friend Hillary at 'fest. The weekend also is my last chance to visit the Quakertown Farmer's Market for the next indeterminate amount of time, so after some more closet purging, I toss two garbage bags full of clothes into the car and drive to Quakertown, prepared to drop them in a clothes donation bin on the way back.
I buy a cannoli immediately after my arrival and do a single circuit around. There are too many new shops and empty stalls for my liking, but it's comforting to see some things remain: the sticky bun bakery, the "Korner Kupboard" (I don't know why the K's and maybe I don't want to know), the hippie incense store (that expanded, for a hot minute, into another hippie pagan store that quickly closed), the movie/video game store, the low-rent Spencer's-cum-secondhand store. In better news, the live alligator that had been living in a tank in the back of that store is no longer there; later Googling at home reveals that he's been sent to an animal sanctuary, then literally the day before I sit down to type this up, Best Chemist Friend messages me on Gchat to tell me that Wally the Gator is dead and that there's a memorial sign in his former tank.
"Our childhood is officially dead," she says.
"Guess we're real adults now."
Some of the empty stalls have been converted to some kind of food court or meeting place, with plastic tables and chairs and bulletin board for announcements. There's a jug band playing on chorus risers that serve as a low-budget stage, so I sit for a while to write and enjoy the music.
But even with that break, my walk around doesn't take that long, mostly because I'm deliberately avoiding buying things because where will I put them? Do I want to mail them across an ocean? No! And it's a good thing, because like a chump I decide to park at Musikfest and so I part with my money there instead. I definitely spent more time on the road to and from the farmer's market than in the market proper, but that's okay, because it's also nice to drive again (until the novelty wears off). I also managed to drop off those bags of clothes in a collection bin on my drive to Musikfest so arguably it was even a productive trip.
I meet Hillary down by the Nintendo product tent, where her husband has been sucked into the void that is video games. I get some lunch at Johnny's Bagels and we wander around and chat. There are a couple of consignment or secondhand or whatever shops on Main Street that I've never really stopped in but that Hillary's eager to try, and I guess she's my secondhand good luck charm because I walk away with a really cute pair of dress shoes (something I needed to buy at some point anyway) and a nice top to boot! We also watch the tail end and then the entire act of some street performers, then wander back off Main Street to get some food, pick up my final music purchase (an LP from Black Masala), see some shows, and meet up with some of Hillary's friends.
We also run into cave coworker Kelly, our (as in Kelly and I) mutual friend Janine, and Janine's new boyfriend, so that's a pleasant surprise and we stand around and chat a bit. Janine is a bit deep in her cups but in a charming and friendly and hilarious way. But I'm a crappy mutual friend and fail to mention at the time that both Hillary and Janine work in special ed. Oops!
There is some massive issue trying to drive home. A car that might be a Papa John's delivery car is blocking the box (so to speak) in front of the closest bridge to get out of town, with a couple of cop cars to boot; everyone is being diverted into a righthand turn instead of being allowed to go straight. I circle around and pull into a Wawa. I debate if it's worth just taking another bridge out of town, but after I get some more writing done (and enjoying the bakery cookies from the grocery store that I can never resist buying) and listening to Black Masala, things have cleared up so I just take my regular route home.
There's a paranoid parrot in the back of my brain who is convinced that I'll get run off the road by some drunk fester or other, but obviously I don't and I make it home fine, a little more sunburned and a little more sweaty than when I left. Lawyer Mom and Teacher Dad are still up (not waiting for me; it's just not that late yet) and I chat a little with them before I go upstairs.
This is the day where all of the tiki torch insanity goes down in Charlottesville. I don't have data on my cheap-o plan but Hillary does and so I'm halfway apprised of what's going on in the world while I'm seeing friends and listening to music and having a good time. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. I catch up a bit on Facebook and all of that good stuff, then curl up in a ball and feel sad until I fall asleep.
After I wake up from my late 'fest night, I catch the LANTA bus like usual. I realize as soon as I get to the bus stop that I left my phone at Best Chemist Friend's. Priscilla is also too old to run Google hangouts so I'm just kind of cut off from the world until I meet her for dinner with my parents later.
I read some more out of Her Smoke Rises Up Forever while I wait for the bus. The guy sitting next to me—probably in his 40s, has a pattern to his speech that suggests some kind of mental or cognitive disorder—sees my 'fest mug and starts talking. I oblige but give him a fake name, and sure enough the question comes up:
"Are you single?"
"No," I answer, shaking my head.
"Are you married?"
"Yes." Technically correct; the best kind of correct. His interest immediately diminishes, but I still breathe a sigh of relief when he gets on a different bus.
It's another day of cleaning and purging. I find an old notebook with details of part of a trip I took to Chicago back in 2009 and type it up, along with some travel notes from this trip.
With the books mostly whittled down, cleaning and purging now comes to the gifts and knick-knacks and things that I like and have had for years, but have to put through the "Do I want to pay money to ship it across the ocean?" gauntlet. More than a few things don't survive that.
I drop off the bag of goods outside, then wander inside for the first time in four years (I never managed to drop in while I was home in October). I stay long enough to see if there was a belt that might really work with the dress I had for the wedding, but leave empty-handed.
The rest of the day is uneventful except for dinner with Best Chemist Friend and my parents, when I get my phone back.
Day 10
Today I'm scheduled to hang out with blog friend Hillary at 'fest. The weekend also is my last chance to visit the Quakertown Farmer's Market for the next indeterminate amount of time, so after some more closet purging, I toss two garbage bags full of clothes into the car and drive to Quakertown, prepared to drop them in a clothes donation bin on the way back.
I buy a cannoli immediately after my arrival and do a single circuit around. There are too many new shops and empty stalls for my liking, but it's comforting to see some things remain: the sticky bun bakery, the "Korner Kupboard" (I don't know why the K's and maybe I don't want to know), the hippie incense store (that expanded, for a hot minute, into another hippie pagan store that quickly closed), the movie/video game store, the low-rent Spencer's-cum-secondhand store. In better news, the live alligator that had been living in a tank in the back of that store is no longer there; later Googling at home reveals that he's been sent to an animal sanctuary, then literally the day before I sit down to type this up, Best Chemist Friend messages me on Gchat to tell me that Wally the Gator is dead and that there's a memorial sign in his former tank.
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| RIP, Wally my dude. You deserved a better life than this. // Image courtesy cc at Meals I Have Eaten |
"Our childhood is officially dead," she says.
"Guess we're real adults now."
Some of the empty stalls have been converted to some kind of food court or meeting place, with plastic tables and chairs and bulletin board for announcements. There's a jug band playing on chorus risers that serve as a low-budget stage, so I sit for a while to write and enjoy the music.
But even with that break, my walk around doesn't take that long, mostly because I'm deliberately avoiding buying things because where will I put them? Do I want to mail them across an ocean? No! And it's a good thing, because like a chump I decide to park at Musikfest and so I part with my money there instead. I definitely spent more time on the road to and from the farmer's market than in the market proper, but that's okay, because it's also nice to drive again (until the novelty wears off). I also managed to drop off those bags of clothes in a collection bin on my drive to Musikfest so arguably it was even a productive trip.
I meet Hillary down by the Nintendo product tent, where her husband has been sucked into the void that is video games. I get some lunch at Johnny's Bagels and we wander around and chat. There are a couple of consignment or secondhand or whatever shops on Main Street that I've never really stopped in but that Hillary's eager to try, and I guess she's my secondhand good luck charm because I walk away with a really cute pair of dress shoes (something I needed to buy at some point anyway) and a nice top to boot! We also watch the tail end and then the entire act of some street performers, then wander back off Main Street to get some food, pick up my final music purchase (an LP from Black Masala), see some shows, and meet up with some of Hillary's friends.
We also run into cave coworker Kelly, our (as in Kelly and I) mutual friend Janine, and Janine's new boyfriend, so that's a pleasant surprise and we stand around and chat a bit. Janine is a bit deep in her cups but in a charming and friendly and hilarious way. But I'm a crappy mutual friend and fail to mention at the time that both Hillary and Janine work in special ed. Oops!
There is some massive issue trying to drive home. A car that might be a Papa John's delivery car is blocking the box (so to speak) in front of the closest bridge to get out of town, with a couple of cop cars to boot; everyone is being diverted into a righthand turn instead of being allowed to go straight. I circle around and pull into a Wawa. I debate if it's worth just taking another bridge out of town, but after I get some more writing done (and enjoying the bakery cookies from the grocery store that I can never resist buying) and listening to Black Masala, things have cleared up so I just take my regular route home.
There's a paranoid parrot in the back of my brain who is convinced that I'll get run off the road by some drunk fester or other, but obviously I don't and I make it home fine, a little more sunburned and a little more sweaty than when I left. Lawyer Mom and Teacher Dad are still up (not waiting for me; it's just not that late yet) and I chat a little with them before I go upstairs.
This is the day where all of the tiki torch insanity goes down in Charlottesville. I don't have data on my cheap-o plan but Hillary does and so I'm halfway apprised of what's going on in the world while I'm seeing friends and listening to music and having a good time. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. I catch up a bit on Facebook and all of that good stuff, then curl up in a ball and feel sad until I fall asleep.
Wednesday, December 20, 2017
What I Read: Gösta Berling's Saga
A recurring goal across all of my 101 in 1001 lists is to read X number of books that I've owned for more than a year. Like most bookworms, I have a tendency to accrue books faster than I can read them and to buy a book that seems interesting at the time and then put off reading it forever.
Something like this just seems ripe for the miniseries pickings, to be honest. The episodic chapters would work just fine as standalone episodes, so the scripts would basically write themselves. Come on, Netflix! Otherwise, if you want to dip your toes into classic Swedish literature, I would suggest one of the newer translations, just for accessibility's sake.
I picked up Gösta Berling's Saga in 2008 at the very earliest and probably 2010 at the latest, so this one definitely counts. Good ol' Dover Thrift Editions!
Protip for non-Swedes: you pronounce Gösta something like "Yus-duh."
The only downside is that this edition is a translation from 1894 (with a few chapters being a little later, 1918); there have since been two subsequent translations, one in the 1960s and another in 2009. I don't know if it's entirely the age of the translations that sometimes make this a hard slog so much as the age of the work. (JV had to read it for Swedish class and had a rough time with the old-timey Swedish, so.) Outside the language, there are other challenges: there's a huge cast of characters and the structure is more episodic than purely narrative so chapters can feel clunky and disconnected compared to how novels are written today. (I feel like The Wonderful Adventures of Nils holds together a little better, even if it has a similar episodic structure.)
Still, once you get into it, it's still worth reading over 100 years later. Unsurprisingly for a very feminist and pro-woman, pro-women's rights author, there are a lot of women in this large cast of characters, well developed beyond witches, damsels, and bimbos. They do some awful things, and they also do some heroic things. Of course, most of these women have a tendency to fall in love with Gösta, but then again, he's the hero.
The nutshell is that Gösta Berling, a disgraced whiskey priest, is given shelter at the prosperous Samzelius farmstead. The properties are owned by Major Samzelius but they're run and administered by his wife, Margarita, who enjoys an immense amount of respect and power in the village because she's just so damn good at running things. But an altercation at a Christmas dinner sets in motion a chain of events that leads to Margarita Samzelius being outcast from her home, and the maintenance of her property being turned over for a year to the "cavaliers"—twelve vagabonds she let stay at her property, free of charge, of whom Gösta is the unofficial leader. For the next year, Gösta and the cavaliers drink and carouse and go on adventures and generally run things into the ground. A fitting Christmas read, since it begins and ends on Christmas!
Lagerlöf would later go on to be the first woman to win the Nobel Prize, awarded to her in 1909 "in appreciation of the lofty idealism, vivid imagination and spiritual perception that characterize her writings." And you can see a lot of that in Gösta Berling's Saga, which is in large part taken from the folk and fairy tales Lagerlöf heard growing up in Värmland.
The silent movie version (from which the image for that above book cover is taken) is also notable for kickstarting the film career of no less an international star than Greta Garbo.
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| "I want to be alone." No, not quite yet. |
My personal favorite is the ostensible antagonist, Fru Samzelius. While she spends much of the book outcast from her farm and home, pitted against the cavaliers, she begins and ends the story with competence and dignity, and always does things on her own terms.
Another one of my favorite Swedish books, Dr Glas, from around the same time period, has seen a modern re-imagining from the perspective of the antagonist, Reverend Gregorious. I want someone to do the same for Margarita Samzelius. She deserves her own book even more than Reverend Gregorious does. (Behold, the closest I'll ever get to fanfiction!)
Another one of my favorite Swedish books, Dr Glas, from around the same time period, has seen a modern re-imagining from the perspective of the antagonist, Reverend Gregorious. I want someone to do the same for Margarita Samzelius. She deserves her own book even more than Reverend Gregorious does. (Behold, the closest I'll ever get to fanfiction!)
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| Gerda Lundqvist, another stage and screen legend, as Fru Samzelius. |
The first line is one of the most recognizable in Swedish literature: "Äntligen stod prästen i predikstolen." It's like the Swedish equivalent of "Call me Ishmael." It still turns up here and there in places, like in this song by MOVITS!
Something like this just seems ripe for the miniseries pickings, to be honest. The episodic chapters would work just fine as standalone episodes, so the scripts would basically write themselves. Come on, Netflix! Otherwise, if you want to dip your toes into classic Swedish literature, I would suggest one of the newer translations, just for accessibility's sake.
Tuesday, December 19, 2017
Talky Tuesday: What I Did on My Summer Vacation, Days 7 and 8: Bethlehem, PA
Day 7
I took the bus from Best Chemist Friend's back home and spent most of the day packing up books and running errands for Swedish friends (by way of being a taco sauce mule).
This day was a Wednesday, a day I usually spent at bar trivia with friends. But since it was probably canceled because of Musikfest, and because ex romantic entanglements made it potentially weird anyway, I stayed at home and went swimming with Best Chemist Friend instead, discussing outliving our heroes and becoming grimey hippies. Afterwards my mom took us out to dinner, since this was the first she had seen Best Chemist Friend (essentially an adopted daughter for her) in years.
There are so many new places to eat that didn't exist when I was growing up here, or even four years ago. The restaurant Mom took us to was one had existed when I grew up, but was for sale when I left. Now it's a restaurant again, with new owners and a new name but much of the same atmosphere (from what I can vaguely remember). I finally had my first Yuengling of the trip, and now I was really home.
Day 8
My goal for the next day was to drop off a few boxes of books at the library, and then hit up Musikfest with a friend and former co-worker. My go-to library for book cast-offs, the Quakertown branch of the Bucks County library system, wasn't taking donations at the time, so I had to go on a little adventure to find a home for my books.
I thought, for a moment, of sending them to the huge thrift store in Hellertown, but I like to give books to "book places" before "generic stuff-unloading places." I decided to try the Riegelsville library next, since it was closest to home and near a new cafe that's supposed to be pretty good.
When my brother and I were still really small, my mom took us on a drive to try to find this same library. It's easy to see from the main road, but then actually getting there isn't exactly intuitive. (And, of course, she was doing this in the age before GPS and smartphones.) She drove around for a while before giving up, and from that point on she just patronized bookstores with us instead of the local library. I don't remember this at all, though; it's just a story she told me once when we were driving through Riegelsville for some reason or another.
I thought about that story while I drove around the back roads of Riegelsville, looking for the same library, wondering if I'm following the same random no-outlet residential streets Mom did when she was trying to do exactly what I was doing. I had been to this library twice before, for library sales, but years ago. My memory was dim, and this time there weren't any helpful signs up or large crowds of people and activities going on. I pulled into the only non-church, non-residential parking lot around and then realized this was actually the library—it shares space with the all-purpose Riegelsville Municipal Building.
And by sheer luck Thursday was of the three days of the week that the library was actually open. With some help from the library staff, who were setting up an event in the community room on the first floor, I maneuvered a cart out to the car and unloaded the first round of boxes.
I stopped a while to wander through the nearby cemetery and look at the familiar landscape, and also snap some pictures. There was a driver here delivering other books to the library; I absentmindedly watched him take a photo of some butterflies hovering near the flowers. It was just a damn nice day.
After I had my fill of sunshine and cemeteries, I stopped at the Someday Cafe.
The building that now houses the Someday Cafe and Roastery had been sketchy and abandoned for my entire life. It started life as a car dealership back in the 40s or 50s, then became a dance studio, but all of my memories of it were as a sky-blue vacant building that was perennially for sale. At some point, someone tried (and failed) to turn it into an antiques shop (despite there already being another antiques shop right across the street), so I remember lots of junk sitting in the windows.
It's really gratifying and cool to see the empty, abandoned space I remember from childhood turned into something like this. And I would have killed to have this kind of not-at-home space during high school. It's just three miles from my house; it's not completely inconceivable that I could have walked there if I really wanted to, except that the roads between here and my house have no shoulder and are not at all made for pedestrians. But still.
Not everything is better, of course. The abandoned paper mill across the street, which I'd always wanted to sneak into, is long gone. :( So is my favorite used bookstore, which is now a bridal showcase, of all things.
After packing up a few more books, I meandered into Musikfest. This time I planned to spend the night (as opposed to accidentally doing so the last time I was here). I had my Musikfest mug in hand, complete with drink, and wandered around Main Street and the venues down by Monacacy Creek while I waited to meet up with Kelly and for SsingSsing to start. SsingSsing was the group I was easily the most excited to see at the festival. Glam rock + Korean folk music = WHAT THE HELL BUT ALSO YES.
Kelly and I enjoyed the show a lot, but unfortunately there was no merch table at all, so we couldn't pick up an album or t-shirt or patch to sport our love. After show, we walked around for a little we disappear back to her place to use her bathroom and refill our mugs.
Back at the festival, Kelly grabbed some kind of cheese steak in a cup thing from a vendor and we sit and talk about Life, the Universe, and Everything. I love the work I do now, and I love the students I have now, but there is always a level of professionalism to maintain that isn't the same as being coworker-buddies with someone. The conversations I have with my students are rewarding and interesting in their own ways—I learn so much about other cultures and traditions and food—but it's hard to be someone's teacher and be someone's friend. Of course, I also have the privilege of dictating my own schedule and doing the vast bulk of my work in my pajamas, so you know, swings and roundabouts! Talking to her and then Best Chemist Friend is the perfect way to round out a day full of errands and music.
I took the bus from Best Chemist Friend's back home and spent most of the day packing up books and running errands for Swedish friends (by way of being a taco sauce mule).
This day was a Wednesday, a day I usually spent at bar trivia with friends. But since it was probably canceled because of Musikfest, and because ex romantic entanglements made it potentially weird anyway, I stayed at home and went swimming with Best Chemist Friend instead, discussing outliving our heroes and becoming grimey hippies. Afterwards my mom took us out to dinner, since this was the first she had seen Best Chemist Friend (essentially an adopted daughter for her) in years.
There are so many new places to eat that didn't exist when I was growing up here, or even four years ago. The restaurant Mom took us to was one had existed when I grew up, but was for sale when I left. Now it's a restaurant again, with new owners and a new name but much of the same atmosphere (from what I can vaguely remember). I finally had my first Yuengling of the trip, and now I was really home.
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| I pledge allegiance to the beer of the commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and to the republic for which it stands, because of its remarkable taste-to-price ratio, with lagers and black and tans for all. // Andrew Mager on Flickr |
Day 8
My goal for the next day was to drop off a few boxes of books at the library, and then hit up Musikfest with a friend and former co-worker. My go-to library for book cast-offs, the Quakertown branch of the Bucks County library system, wasn't taking donations at the time, so I had to go on a little adventure to find a home for my books.
I thought, for a moment, of sending them to the huge thrift store in Hellertown, but I like to give books to "book places" before "generic stuff-unloading places." I decided to try the Riegelsville library next, since it was closest to home and near a new cafe that's supposed to be pretty good.
When my brother and I were still really small, my mom took us on a drive to try to find this same library. It's easy to see from the main road, but then actually getting there isn't exactly intuitive. (And, of course, she was doing this in the age before GPS and smartphones.) She drove around for a while before giving up, and from that point on she just patronized bookstores with us instead of the local library. I don't remember this at all, though; it's just a story she told me once when we were driving through Riegelsville for some reason or another.
I thought about that story while I drove around the back roads of Riegelsville, looking for the same library, wondering if I'm following the same random no-outlet residential streets Mom did when she was trying to do exactly what I was doing. I had been to this library twice before, for library sales, but years ago. My memory was dim, and this time there weren't any helpful signs up or large crowds of people and activities going on. I pulled into the only non-church, non-residential parking lot around and then realized this was actually the library—it shares space with the all-purpose Riegelsville Municipal Building.
And by sheer luck Thursday was of the three days of the week that the library was actually open. With some help from the library staff, who were setting up an event in the community room on the first floor, I maneuvered a cart out to the car and unloaded the first round of boxes.
I stopped a while to wander through the nearby cemetery and look at the familiar landscape, and also snap some pictures. There was a driver here delivering other books to the library; I absentmindedly watched him take a photo of some butterflies hovering near the flowers. It was just a damn nice day.
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| A Civil War memorial outside the Riegelsville Public Library |
After I had my fill of sunshine and cemeteries, I stopped at the Someday Cafe.
The building that now houses the Someday Cafe and Roastery had been sketchy and abandoned for my entire life. It started life as a car dealership back in the 40s or 50s, then became a dance studio, but all of my memories of it were as a sky-blue vacant building that was perennially for sale. At some point, someone tried (and failed) to turn it into an antiques shop (despite there already being another antiques shop right across the street), so I remember lots of junk sitting in the windows.
It's really gratifying and cool to see the empty, abandoned space I remember from childhood turned into something like this. And I would have killed to have this kind of not-at-home space during high school. It's just three miles from my house; it's not completely inconceivable that I could have walked there if I really wanted to, except that the roads between here and my house have no shoulder and are not at all made for pedestrians. But still.
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| Also, the crepe I had was really, really good. |
Not everything is better, of course. The abandoned paper mill across the street, which I'd always wanted to sneak into, is long gone. :( So is my favorite used bookstore, which is now a bridal showcase, of all things.
After packing up a few more books, I meandered into Musikfest. This time I planned to spend the night (as opposed to accidentally doing so the last time I was here). I had my Musikfest mug in hand, complete with drink, and wandered around Main Street and the venues down by Monacacy Creek while I waited to meet up with Kelly and for SsingSsing to start. SsingSsing was the group I was easily the most excited to see at the festival. Glam rock + Korean folk music = WHAT THE HELL BUT ALSO YES.
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| This is the band warming up; it's not an action shot. |
Kelly and I enjoyed the show a lot, but unfortunately there was no merch table at all, so we couldn't pick up an album or t-shirt or patch to sport our love. After show, we walked around for a little we disappear back to her place to use her bathroom and refill our mugs.
Back at the festival, Kelly grabbed some kind of cheese steak in a cup thing from a vendor and we sit and talk about Life, the Universe, and Everything. I love the work I do now, and I love the students I have now, but there is always a level of professionalism to maintain that isn't the same as being coworker-buddies with someone. The conversations I have with my students are rewarding and interesting in their own ways—I learn so much about other cultures and traditions and food—but it's hard to be someone's teacher and be someone's friend. Of course, I also have the privilege of dictating my own schedule and doing the vast bulk of my work in my pajamas, so you know, swings and roundabouts! Talking to her and then Best Chemist Friend is the perfect way to round out a day full of errands and music.
Friday, December 1, 2017
Friday 5: Space
Of all the spaces in your residence, which is most powerfully your space?
We don't have a lot of space in our tiny Stockholm apartment, but I've made around a third of our unnecessarily large kitchen my office, including my Art Wall corner.
I also have an entire bookshelf to myself, which is obviously very much me.
What’s the most spacious space in your everyday life?
The outside, I guess?
What’s a good song about space?
What’s under your bed?
The floor.
What are your thoughts on typing one or two spaces after sentences?
Two spaces are no longer necessary as we live in an age of digital typing and typesetting! One of the first things I do with every document I copy edit is find and replace two spaces with one. STOP DOING THIS.
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
What I Did on My Summer Vacation, Day 6: Bethlehem, PA
After a busy weekend full of social activity and sight-seeing, I take it easy for the next few days at my parents' house. I spend my first morning back just putzing around the house and going through the books I had packed up four years ago (surprise, there are more that I can bear to part with!), and then I drive to Lost River Caverns to catch up with my old boss and coworkers and do some shopping. It's busy, at least compared to what I would have expected mid-August, so my old boss tells me to just help myself. I must give off "I work here" vibes still; people ask me questions about how to get to the bathrooms or where things are.
The inside is all done up and it looks fabulous—so much better than when I was still working there—and I linger a while to talk to my old bosses and coworkers and some of the new shop ladies and guides. Everything is familiar despite the fabulous makeover and once again I miss my weirdo minimum wage retail job.
Next stop on the agenda is the Bethlehem library. I don't bother driving in during Musikfest; I just wait for the bus (have I gone full European native?) and meander towards the library from the parking/bus hub. There's no Amerikaplatz next to the library anymore, which I don't like (fond memories of Tea Leaf Green and Royal Noise Brigade at that stage), but I suppose the library employees appreciate the new-found quiet. I pick out a book—Murder in Retrospect, or Five Little Pigs, which is my Facebook book club's August choice—and sit down and read, and alternate my reading with checking Facebook and talking with friends on gchat.
After I finish the book, I wander through Musikfest, grab a "Marga-mead-a," and head down to Volksplatz to wait for The Skatalites. I sit through The Hillbenders, a bluegrass act, and enjoy them enough to buy an album as roadtrip soundtrack/thank-you gift for my ride up to Maine. I totally sneak a preview listen later and the album is way more straight country, and kind of worse, than their live performance. :( For me, the highlight of that show was probably a high-energy cover of MGMT's "Kids." I had spent the whole day being sad and moody over leaving Austin, and that moment was the point where I started to maybe feel like not everything was a total garbage fire.
Then, after time to change sets and move the first rows of chairs out of the way, The Skatalites come on, and I dance my heart out. They do their cover of the James Bond theme and I get a powerful hit of high school nostalgia. I had listened to their version of the incomparable movie theme a lot in high school, but this was in the days of Napster and people being really ignorant and slapdash with labeling artists ("Wish You Were Here" by Oasis? Really?), so I was never sure if it was actually The Skatalites. I went into the show with zero expectations I'd hear that song, so it's a nice surprise to hear that opening bass riff.
Later in the set they also do the theme from "From Russia With Love" and I wonder: is that a coincidence or a political statement? Other covers include "A Message To You, Rudy" and "Three Little Birds."
I ducked out in the middle of an encore to make sure I could get a bus home, only: surprise! The late bus I thought was running wasn't, so I dropped in at a friend's instead. Not the most gracious way to make an entrance from across the ocean ("I can't read bus schedules, Tesia, can I crash your guest bed?") but friendship is magic! And I'm stopping by home to celebrate Tesia's PhD, after all. It's not super late, but I still conk right out.
The inside is all done up and it looks fabulous—so much better than when I was still working there—and I linger a while to talk to my old bosses and coworkers and some of the new shop ladies and guides. Everything is familiar despite the fabulous makeover and once again I miss my weirdo minimum wage retail job.
Next stop on the agenda is the Bethlehem library. I don't bother driving in during Musikfest; I just wait for the bus (have I gone full European native?) and meander towards the library from the parking/bus hub. There's no Amerikaplatz next to the library anymore, which I don't like (fond memories of Tea Leaf Green and Royal Noise Brigade at that stage), but I suppose the library employees appreciate the new-found quiet. I pick out a book—Murder in Retrospect, or Five Little Pigs, which is my Facebook book club's August choice—and sit down and read, and alternate my reading with checking Facebook and talking with friends on gchat.
After I finish the book, I wander through Musikfest, grab a "Marga-mead-a," and head down to Volksplatz to wait for The Skatalites. I sit through The Hillbenders, a bluegrass act, and enjoy them enough to buy an album as roadtrip soundtrack/thank-you gift for my ride up to Maine. I totally sneak a preview listen later and the album is way more straight country, and kind of worse, than their live performance. :( For me, the highlight of that show was probably a high-energy cover of MGMT's "Kids." I had spent the whole day being sad and moody over leaving Austin, and that moment was the point where I started to maybe feel like not everything was a total garbage fire.
Then, after time to change sets and move the first rows of chairs out of the way, The Skatalites come on, and I dance my heart out. They do their cover of the James Bond theme and I get a powerful hit of high school nostalgia. I had listened to their version of the incomparable movie theme a lot in high school, but this was in the days of Napster and people being really ignorant and slapdash with labeling artists ("Wish You Were Here" by Oasis? Really?), so I was never sure if it was actually The Skatalites. I went into the show with zero expectations I'd hear that song, so it's a nice surprise to hear that opening bass riff.
Later in the set they also do the theme from "From Russia With Love" and I wonder: is that a coincidence or a political statement? Other covers include "A Message To You, Rudy" and "Three Little Birds."
I ducked out in the middle of an encore to make sure I could get a bus home, only: surprise! The late bus I thought was running wasn't, so I dropped in at a friend's instead. Not the most gracious way to make an entrance from across the ocean ("I can't read bus schedules, Tesia, can I crash your guest bed?") but friendship is magic! And I'm stopping by home to celebrate Tesia's PhD, after all. It's not super late, but I still conk right out.
Friday, October 27, 2017
Friday 5: Nonstrosity
What’s a good movie for October that has nothing to do with monsters or Halloween?
Back when I worked in South Korea, I spent a few months at a hagwon that was not a good fit for me. At all. I started in June, and by August I was starting to fantasize about tragedy befalling my family so I would have an excuse to leave early and go back home.
For real.
So for the first time in my life, I quit a job. And for the last two weeks of October, I was between jobs, free to wander around Seoul as I liked.
In honor of those weeks of freedom (and the amazing job I was able to take instead because I quit that one), I would say Little Miss Sunshine. Watching it with a friend was what convinced me to carpe diem and quit the damn job.
What’s a good couple of songs for October that have nothing to do with monsters or Halloween?
I kind of want to continue on my "two-week knockabout in Seoul" theme, so here are some selections from Korean indie musicians that I really, really like.
What are some reasons to love October?
The foliage is gorgeous, but it's not quite the grim winter wasteland that is November or December. There's a nice balance between "still enough daylight" and "cozy weather." Also, apples are in season! Apple crisp, apple pie, apple cider...
Radio stations sometimes call this month Rocktober, doing special playlists or giveaways in celebration of rock music. What would be a better rhyming name for this month, and how might it be celebrated?
I'm fine with it being Rocktober, but celebrating geology and rocks and minerals as well as rock music. Second to that, Schlocktober, and you celebrate by watching terrible movies.
What would be a good holiday to establish in October for those U.S. states not commemorating Columbus Day?
Indigenous Peoples' Day seems a perfectly acceptable alternative.
Back when I worked in South Korea, I spent a few months at a hagwon that was not a good fit for me. At all. I started in June, and by August I was starting to fantasize about tragedy befalling my family so I would have an excuse to leave early and go back home.
For real.
So for the first time in my life, I quit a job. And for the last two weeks of October, I was between jobs, free to wander around Seoul as I liked.
In honor of those weeks of freedom (and the amazing job I was able to take instead because I quit that one), I would say Little Miss Sunshine. Watching it with a friend was what convinced me to carpe diem and quit the damn job.
What’s a good couple of songs for October that have nothing to do with monsters or Halloween?
I kind of want to continue on my "two-week knockabout in Seoul" theme, so here are some selections from Korean indie musicians that I really, really like.
Danpyunsun and the Sailors, "Yellow Room"
Hyun Lee Yang, "Is Help on the Way?"
Floating Island, "Parade"
Jun Bum Sun and the Yangbans, "Seven Year Itch"
What are some reasons to love October?
The foliage is gorgeous, but it's not quite the grim winter wasteland that is November or December. There's a nice balance between "still enough daylight" and "cozy weather." Also, apples are in season! Apple crisp, apple pie, apple cider...
Radio stations sometimes call this month Rocktober, doing special playlists or giveaways in celebration of rock music. What would be a better rhyming name for this month, and how might it be celebrated?
I'm fine with it being Rocktober, but celebrating geology and rocks and minerals as well as rock music. Second to that, Schlocktober, and you celebrate by watching terrible movies.
What would be a good holiday to establish in October for those U.S. states not commemorating Columbus Day?
Indigenous Peoples' Day seems a perfectly acceptable alternative.
Friday, October 20, 2017
Friday 5: Payday
From whom did you receive your first real paycheck?
When I worked at Gilman's/Lost River Caverns, where I also learned to love rocks.
Among board games involving the exchange of money, which have you enjoyed most?
Do you exchange money in Life? I think you do. I didn't have anything against Monopoly, but I think I actually finished more games of Life.
PayDay is the name of a candy bar consisting of salted peanuts rolled in caramel surrounding a firm, nougat-like center. How does it sound to you if you haven’t tried it, and how do you like it if you have? Is there a similar candy bar you like better?
I don't like nuts in my chocolate, nor do I like peanuts or peanut butter mixed with chocolate. (Unpopular opinions!) Anything with caramel, nougat, and chocolate without nuts is just peachy keen.
When did you last do something nice for yourself just because it was pay day?
I went out and bought new bras. Ladies, I recommend making sure that you're wearing the correct bra size. (In other words: if you've been fitted at Victoria's Secret, or you've used that bizarre "add an arbitrary number to your band measurement," measure yourself again.)
What person with the surname Day are you most familiar with?
I had a really hard time parsing this question at first; I took it to mean "Person With the Surname Day," as if there were multiple holidays we observe in honor of people with specific surnames. Like, I had to read the question two or three times to understand what they meant.
And my first answer is, of course, Doris Day! Infinitely superior to Felicia Day.
When I worked at Gilman's/Lost River Caverns, where I also learned to love rocks.
Among board games involving the exchange of money, which have you enjoyed most?
Do you exchange money in Life? I think you do. I didn't have anything against Monopoly, but I think I actually finished more games of Life.
PayDay is the name of a candy bar consisting of salted peanuts rolled in caramel surrounding a firm, nougat-like center. How does it sound to you if you haven’t tried it, and how do you like it if you have? Is there a similar candy bar you like better?
I don't like nuts in my chocolate, nor do I like peanuts or peanut butter mixed with chocolate. (Unpopular opinions!) Anything with caramel, nougat, and chocolate without nuts is just peachy keen.
When did you last do something nice for yourself just because it was pay day?
I went out and bought new bras. Ladies, I recommend making sure that you're wearing the correct bra size. (In other words: if you've been fitted at Victoria's Secret, or you've used that bizarre "add an arbitrary number to your band measurement," measure yourself again.)
What person with the surname Day are you most familiar with?
I had a really hard time parsing this question at first; I took it to mean "Person With the Surname Day," as if there were multiple holidays we observe in honor of people with specific surnames. Like, I had to read the question two or three times to understand what they meant.
And my first answer is, of course, Doris Day! Infinitely superior to Felicia Day.
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
Talky Tuesday: Running, "Good" Fatties, and Inspiration Porn
I'm taking a break from the slow eking-out of my travelogues to talk about running. Again.
A couple of weeks ago, I posted this on my personal Facebook:
I suspect people might have misunderstood my desire to disable comments on the post. It was friends-only, and the friends on FB who get to see the friends-only stuff aren't assholes. I didn't think anyone would be mean or shitty about it—effusive praise is what would bug me, and naturally that happened (some of it more easy for me to digest than others). The idea that someone might process the picture and post as "inspiration porn" is what would bug me.
Inspiration porn, if you're unfamiliar with the term, is the use of images of disabled athletes or artists or whoever used as a means for the able-bodied to feel inspired (or to guilt them into Doing The Thing). This article on The Mighty has more information about that. While fatness and physical disability are not marginalized to the same degree, or equivalent in any way, I think, to an extent, images of fat people accomplishing cool shit are leveraged similarly. There can also be a well-meaning condescension and patronization when it comes to images of fat athletes or fat aspiring athletes: "How cute of you to try!" "Good for you for being a good fatty!"
This is better than images of fat people being distributed for the purposes of ridicule, but it's not really ideal, either. And it's exactly why I wanted to disable comments. I knew that no one was going to come at me with a shitty comment; it was much more likely for people to be effusive in praise and encouragement, all of which would have meant well but some of which would no doubt be coming from that place of "I'm inspired by your willingness to do this thing with a body I consider undesirable (even as we are friends because of my admiration for your personality etc.)" "I'm glad you're doing something to become less Fat." If you're thinking or feeling those things when you see pictures of fat athletes, please ch-ch-checkity-check yo' self.
On a positive note, I'd like to thank LineageWear for those awesome peacock bike shorts and my other leggings: they really are the #bestleggingsever. (If you don't have a pair of your own, you can shop through my LineageWear referral link and get a 10% discount. TREAT YO' SELF!)
I'd also like to thank Aardvark Sports Shop in Bethlehem, PA. When I walked in there almost a year ago to get fitted for my first-ever pair of running shoes, I thought I would die of embarrassment. But the employee who helped me was super chill and treated me and my big ol' duck feet with perfect, expert helpfulness and found me the perfect shoes. Gear matters, and without those leggings or those shoes I wouldn't have been able to do what I did.
And finally, I'd like to put in a good word for Charity Miles. A lot of times it was easier to go out and do the thing because I knew it would help a better cause as well as myself. Personally, I run for charity: water because damn there's nothing like a glass of cold water after a brutal run!
Playlist shout-outs include: basically every Tarantino soundtrack up to Kill Bill Vol. 1, Say Sue Me, Kanye (I'm trash), Garbage, Eve 6, Drunken Tiger/MFBTY, The Blue Hearts, and The High-Lows.
A couple of weeks ago, I posted this on my personal Facebook:
Last Friday I woke up, had a cup of tea, and then went out and ran a 5K. Not any kind of official race; I mean I ran 3.1 miles, nonstop, around my neighborhood. (3.5 miles, if my running app is to be believed.) I'm including a recent, honest-but-not-flattering photo with this post so you can see more or less what I looked like when I did it, down to the hairdo and tanktop and sneakers. Probably equally sweaty, because damn Boston was SWELTERING that day. This is what a runner looks like.
I'm talking about this on Facebook for a few reasons. The first is that I did something that I'm proud of, something I thought for years that I would never want (or be able) to do. Running a 5K was only slightly more likely, I thought, than going to Mars or winning the lottery. And last week I basically went out and did it by accident. Cool! I did the thing! I even *enjoyed* doing the thing! (And me *enjoying* running was, not so long ago, as alien to me as "enjoying paperwork" or "enjoying scrubbing toilets.") I worked hard at it for 18 months and then I did it without dying or injuring myself!* (I also did it without filling my albuterol inhaler 'script which in retrospect is a terrible idea for someone with asthma. Don't Do What Donny Don't Does!)
*I did suffer a twisted ankle during all of this training, but not while I was actually running. I stepped off a sidewalk funny while I was in town.
The second reason I'm talking about this is to be up front about something: it was hard. It was physically difficult (my earliest workouts were just 5 seconds of jogging mixed with 55 seconds of walking for a grand total of 15 minutes, and even those "easy" workouts were hard at times) and it was mentally difficult (exercising in public while fat and female is fraught). I felt weird and embarrassed and discouraged way more than I felt awesome. Sometimes it felt like there was something wrong with me for finding it so hard and progressing so slowly. If you feel like that about anything -- exercising, learning something new, coping with mental illness -- I want you to know that my fat, sweaty, awkward, struggling self knows what it feels like. I don't know if it'll get better for you or not when it comes to that particular arena of self-improvement, but I know what it's like in that moment and I see and recognize your struggle. We're all reforming fuck-ups together!
The third reason I'm posting this screed with this specific honest-but-not-flattering photo is to make it clear that 1) I didn't wait until I wasn't fat, or until I was less fat, to try to do the thing and 2) I didn't do the thing to be a "good" fatty or to make me less fat. I did it because I wanted to, and I wanted to prove to myself that I could, and then at some point just because I liked it.
This is what a runner looks like. It's not a "before" (hell, or even an "after") photo. It's me. The body I have *right now* can do this awesome thing. And maybe more! Maybe I'll train for a 10K. Maybe I'll benchpress my own bodyweight. Maybe I'll take dance lessons or take up MMA. Maybe I'll just keep running around three miles three days a week. During it all, I'll almost certainly continue to remain more or less fat.
Every single person reading this is already capable of so much, just the way they are. All of us not equally much, or of the same things -- limits DO exist, illnesses and disabilities take their toll, we all only have so much spare time -- but often of much more than we realize. Your body is fine the way it is.I shared this post with this picture of me visiting Diana (of Redskirts and Arisia fame) in Boston:
 |
| Diana looking all business casual dressy fly and me looking like a sweaty mess, in front of a burrito restaurant. |
I suspect people might have misunderstood my desire to disable comments on the post. It was friends-only, and the friends on FB who get to see the friends-only stuff aren't assholes. I didn't think anyone would be mean or shitty about it—effusive praise is what would bug me, and naturally that happened (some of it more easy for me to digest than others). The idea that someone might process the picture and post as "inspiration porn" is what would bug me.
Inspiration porn, if you're unfamiliar with the term, is the use of images of disabled athletes or artists or whoever used as a means for the able-bodied to feel inspired (or to guilt them into Doing The Thing). This article on The Mighty has more information about that. While fatness and physical disability are not marginalized to the same degree, or equivalent in any way, I think, to an extent, images of fat people accomplishing cool shit are leveraged similarly. There can also be a well-meaning condescension and patronization when it comes to images of fat athletes or fat aspiring athletes: "How cute of you to try!" "Good for you for being a good fatty!"
This is better than images of fat people being distributed for the purposes of ridicule, but it's not really ideal, either. And it's exactly why I wanted to disable comments. I knew that no one was going to come at me with a shitty comment; it was much more likely for people to be effusive in praise and encouragement, all of which would have meant well but some of which would no doubt be coming from that place of "I'm inspired by your willingness to do this thing with a body I consider undesirable (even as we are friends because of my admiration for your personality etc.)" "I'm glad you're doing something to become less Fat." If you're thinking or feeling those things when you see pictures of fat athletes, please ch-ch-checkity-check yo' self.
On a positive note, I'd like to thank LineageWear for those awesome peacock bike shorts and my other leggings: they really are the #bestleggingsever. (If you don't have a pair of your own, you can shop through my LineageWear referral link and get a 10% discount. TREAT YO' SELF!)
I'd also like to thank Aardvark Sports Shop in Bethlehem, PA. When I walked in there almost a year ago to get fitted for my first-ever pair of running shoes, I thought I would die of embarrassment. But the employee who helped me was super chill and treated me and my big ol' duck feet with perfect, expert helpfulness and found me the perfect shoes. Gear matters, and without those leggings or those shoes I wouldn't have been able to do what I did.
And finally, I'd like to put in a good word for Charity Miles. A lot of times it was easier to go out and do the thing because I knew it would help a better cause as well as myself. Personally, I run for charity: water because damn there's nothing like a glass of cold water after a brutal run!
Playlist shout-outs include: basically every Tarantino soundtrack up to Kill Bill Vol. 1, Say Sue Me, Kanye (I'm trash), Garbage, Eve 6, Drunken Tiger/MFBTY, The Blue Hearts, and The High-Lows.
Friday, October 13, 2017
Friday 5: I Don't Get It Either
Twitch is an enormously popular livestreaming platform mostly for watching people play video games. It has more than 1.5 million broadcasters and more than one million visitors per month, and Amazon acquired it for nearly a billion dollars in 2014. Which of your computer activities would you livestream if there were a way to make some money doing it?
Y'all want to watch me write blog entries in real time, right? Right??
EDM (electronic dance music) is usually performed by DJs on stage in front of audiences, playing tracks they’ve mixed, right off their laptops. If you were a push-button DJ playing your tunes in a club, what would be your opening and closing songs, assuming everyone’s there because they’re into whatever sounds you’re into?
My opening song would be absolutely be "Gangnam Style," or one of the infinite mashups out there. This one might be my favorite:
Or this one:
What can I say? 2012 might have been my peak year.
As for the end of the set, I think this is a good closer:
What’s a good Adele song, and why is Adele so popular?
I don't know if I like this shade you're throwing on Adele, Friday 5! I'm not obsessed with Adele but I like her voice.
Speaking of 2012, I was also cheered to see that Adele was so popular with my Korean students. In a country that can be even more looks-based and body-conscious than the US, I hope that at least a few of my girl students realized that it's possible for them to be talented and successful without looking like a typical K-pop star.
I listened to "Rolling in the Deep" a lot with those kiddos, so that's probably my favorite Adele song.
The Walking Dead?
I don't get this one either, Friday 5.
Every generation seems to arrive at a “They don’t write ’em like that anymore” attitude. Why does it seem like most middle-aged people lose interest in new music?
There's actually a reason for this! I think it has something to do with the way your brain is still developing as a teenager versus how it is as an adult, and so music from your childhood and teenage years will always be more immediate and visceral for you than most anything else. In other words, nostalgia's a helluva drug.
Y'all want to watch me write blog entries in real time, right? Right??
EDM (electronic dance music) is usually performed by DJs on stage in front of audiences, playing tracks they’ve mixed, right off their laptops. If you were a push-button DJ playing your tunes in a club, what would be your opening and closing songs, assuming everyone’s there because they’re into whatever sounds you’re into?
My opening song would be absolutely be "Gangnam Style," or one of the infinite mashups out there. This one might be my favorite:
Or this one:
What can I say? 2012 might have been my peak year.
As for the end of the set, I think this is a good closer:
What’s a good Adele song, and why is Adele so popular?
I don't know if I like this shade you're throwing on Adele, Friday 5! I'm not obsessed with Adele but I like her voice.
Speaking of 2012, I was also cheered to see that Adele was so popular with my Korean students. In a country that can be even more looks-based and body-conscious than the US, I hope that at least a few of my girl students realized that it's possible for them to be talented and successful without looking like a typical K-pop star.
I listened to "Rolling in the Deep" a lot with those kiddos, so that's probably my favorite Adele song.
The Walking Dead?
I don't get this one either, Friday 5.
Every generation seems to arrive at a “They don’t write ’em like that anymore” attitude. Why does it seem like most middle-aged people lose interest in new music?
There's actually a reason for this! I think it has something to do with the way your brain is still developing as a teenager versus how it is as an adult, and so music from your childhood and teenage years will always be more immediate and visceral for you than most anything else. In other words, nostalgia's a helluva drug.
Friday, September 1, 2017
Friday 5: In Your Head! In Your Head!
First of all, I'd like the world to know that this song is one of my go-to karaoke songs. I can't tell you why. It's certainly not because I can sing a killer rendition or rival Dolores O'Riordan's vocals. Just a habit, I guess?
Which mythical monster would you most enjoy discovering (first- or second-hand) is real?
I guess it depends on whether or not it counts as a monster in your book, but how cool would it be to have your own pegasus? Or a griffin? Extremely cool, I think.
When did you last exhibit monstrous behavior?
I try really hard not be monstrous, but I'm sure I've been less than ideal in fights with people. But not very recently, I don't think.
What do you think of monster trucks?
I try not to think about how much fossil fuel monster trucks, NASCAR, and Formula One racing must use up.
If you like monster movies, what’s a monster movie you dislike? And if you dislike them, what’s a monster movie you like?
I don't typically like monster moves, though there is a certain level of over-the-top camp involved in some mid-century ones that I really love, whether they're giant creatures laying waste to entire cities or merely humanoid creatures going on killing sprees. There's a whole stable of Mystery Science Theater 3000 episodes featuring both of these conceits (though not in the same movie!) and that's where most of my favorites are from: The Horror of Party Beach, The Wasp Woman, Gamera, and so on.
A more recent offering that I like because of its merits as a good movie (rather than my personal taste for camp) is The Host, which until recently was the highest-grossing South Korean movie of all time. (Now it's in fourth place.) I'm generally a big fan of Bong Joon-ho's movies and wish his output were a little more prolific. The Host also features my favorite Korean actress (and maybe one of my favorite actresses hands-down), Bae Doona.
What song about a monster (or with the word monster in the title) do you really like?
I have "The Monster Mash" and Kanye West's "Monster" in my music library and of course I like them well enough, but for this question I'll recommend what is a slightly more obscure song: Drunken Tiger's "Monster."
This Friday Five got pretty Korean-themed towards the end, but not really surprising, I guess.
Which mythical monster would you most enjoy discovering (first- or second-hand) is real?
I guess it depends on whether or not it counts as a monster in your book, but how cool would it be to have your own pegasus? Or a griffin? Extremely cool, I think.
When did you last exhibit monstrous behavior?
I try really hard not be monstrous, but I'm sure I've been less than ideal in fights with people. But not very recently, I don't think.
What do you think of monster trucks?
I try not to think about how much fossil fuel monster trucks, NASCAR, and Formula One racing must use up.
If you like monster movies, what’s a monster movie you dislike? And if you dislike them, what’s a monster movie you like?
I don't typically like monster moves, though there is a certain level of over-the-top camp involved in some mid-century ones that I really love, whether they're giant creatures laying waste to entire cities or merely humanoid creatures going on killing sprees. There's a whole stable of Mystery Science Theater 3000 episodes featuring both of these conceits (though not in the same movie!) and that's where most of my favorites are from: The Horror of Party Beach, The Wasp Woman, Gamera, and so on.
A more recent offering that I like because of its merits as a good movie (rather than my personal taste for camp) is The Host, which until recently was the highest-grossing South Korean movie of all time. (Now it's in fourth place.) I'm generally a big fan of Bong Joon-ho's movies and wish his output were a little more prolific. The Host also features my favorite Korean actress (and maybe one of my favorite actresses hands-down), Bae Doona.
What song about a monster (or with the word monster in the title) do you really like?
I have "The Monster Mash" and Kanye West's "Monster" in my music library and of course I like them well enough, but for this question I'll recommend what is a slightly more obscure song: Drunken Tiger's "Monster."
This Friday Five got pretty Korean-themed towards the end, but not really surprising, I guess.
Friday, July 28, 2017
Friday 5: Shape of Things to Come
What shape is your mood today?
Swings and roundabouts. Is that a shape? The replacement for my cracked smartphone screen is in sooner than I expected and I have work to help me pay for it, so that's good. But our bed broke and there's no way getting a new one is worth it, so that's not so good. But our mattress is in fine shape, as are the wooden slats it was resting on, and have "pillow tops" as well (I think in Swedish they're the parts that people call mattresses), so we can just live without a bed frame, I guess?
Back when I was a wee thing and my bed was upgraded in order to give my brother a "big kid" bed, I got to sleep on a mattress on the floor for a few days and I thought it was way better than sleeping on a mattress on a proper bed. The novelty hasn't worn off entirely, so I could be in much worse mood about it than I am. It just sucks that we lose a bit of under-the-bed storage, but oh well.
What snack comes in a fun shape?
I guess those cone-shaped chips you can put on your fingers. Bugles? Yeah, Bugles.
Someone’s building your dream house, but it has to be in the shape of a letter of the alphabet. Which letter do you choose?
For architectural purposes, something like H or I seems the smartest. I'm not vain enough to have my house be in the shape of my initials, definitely (and K seems like not a great shape for a house). C might be nice: you'd a mostly-enclose courtyard that you could still enter and exit easily.
What’s a great song with a shape in its title or lyrics?
"Circle":
"Square":
And I guess I'm stretching with this one, but "Pentagram":
What’s something in your line of sight that can reasonably be called blob-shaped?
I have a couple burnt-down candles on the windowsill.
Swings and roundabouts. Is that a shape? The replacement for my cracked smartphone screen is in sooner than I expected and I have work to help me pay for it, so that's good. But our bed broke and there's no way getting a new one is worth it, so that's not so good. But our mattress is in fine shape, as are the wooden slats it was resting on, and have "pillow tops" as well (I think in Swedish they're the parts that people call mattresses), so we can just live without a bed frame, I guess?
Back when I was a wee thing and my bed was upgraded in order to give my brother a "big kid" bed, I got to sleep on a mattress on the floor for a few days and I thought it was way better than sleeping on a mattress on a proper bed. The novelty hasn't worn off entirely, so I could be in much worse mood about it than I am. It just sucks that we lose a bit of under-the-bed storage, but oh well.
What snack comes in a fun shape?
I guess those cone-shaped chips you can put on your fingers. Bugles? Yeah, Bugles.
 |
| Image courtesy Glane23 |
Someone’s building your dream house, but it has to be in the shape of a letter of the alphabet. Which letter do you choose?
For architectural purposes, something like H or I seems the smartest. I'm not vain enough to have my house be in the shape of my initials, definitely (and K seems like not a great shape for a house). C might be nice: you'd a mostly-enclose courtyard that you could still enter and exit easily.
What’s a great song with a shape in its title or lyrics?
"Circle":
"Square":
Don't judge me. Only Gunde can judge me.
And I guess I'm stretching with this one, but "Pentagram":
What’s something in your line of sight that can reasonably be called blob-shaped?
I have a couple burnt-down candles on the windowsill.
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