i have no fucking idea what i'm doing...
i have no fucking idea what i'm doing...
Bombast at its best. But those lads could play...
Cold and misty morning, I heard a warning borne in the air
About an age of power where no one had an hour to spare,
Where the seeds have withered, silent children shivered, in the cold
Now their faces captured in the lenses of the jackals for gold.
I'll be there
I'll be there
I will be there.
Interesting to sit with a view of the kitchen action, especially at a multi-ethnic place like Typhoon. And the catfish is foreshadowing for Vietnamese catfish later...
The real news is that Keith Emerson will be playing there Monday after next. Hmm, might have to cut rehearsal short to see that.
What happens when you have a community write a story 3 words at a time? Something like this (and it is still going):
First there was the faint smell of burning flesh in the elevator as he stroked the soft fur. "George Bush hates rednecks" he said, punctuating a sentence. This self loathing is great fun. She went down to the well and pulled up her socks. Then cried, "I haven't a bucket to call my own". Suddenly, a large, chocolate chip loving beaver coated with fresh whipped cream killed them both.
warning - bad language (actually subtitles). Hitler remixed
pinched quandry for sailors
frozen peas or corn
for the cellulose
listen closely so you don't miss
a single thing
carefully sighting the possible
free reign providing you cover
all the costs
whistling hand grenades
past a willing few
east st. louis
toodle de doo
it's jazz, dammit
swing it or else
shot in the foot
i can't believe i
shot him in the foot
how could i?
breathe, settle, squeeze
don't pull down on me
instead i need traction
Another basketball fan. Who knew? Go Lakers!
My fingers may regret it, but today saw the return of an upright bass to the household. It fits in the Audi (the first test), and I managed to fit the pickup and get it working. Now to get my hands working right. First rehearsal with it will be Monday night so I have another day to get up to speed. I do love the tone, but man, playing fast on it is a pain. Literally. Time to woodshed...
more ice...i need more ice
I'm somewhat convinced that there is a conservation of creativity law in the universe. Not sure on the exactly application and rules. For instance, is it just within me, or within a group, or ? Is it like entropy where there can be local "violations" of the law? Hmm, something to ponder I suppose, but I've been playing more music lately and the photography and writing have suffered. I'll likely get out and shoot some more...but I need to do exactly that - get out. As for writing, that is more just putting my butt in the chair. But for now I need to hit the couch. Snuggle time with the boy then ice for my back. Fun...
That's when the clocks stopped. It's rather horrific. God speed.
Chinese soldiers filing through a smashed street in the county of Beichuan on Wednesday, about 160 kilometers northeast of the earthquake's epicenter in Sichuan Province. (Reuters)
And here I thought that I just had lousy plumbing in my apartment, and the sewage backing up into my shower was due to cheap landlords. Maybe they are just ahead of the curve.
I can hear bottle water futures going through the roof as I type...
Since the service light stayed away, I headed up to try and catch sunset at Saddle Peak, which is at the intersection of Stunt Rd, Schueren Rd, and Saddle Peak Rd google map
Made it for sunset (see below) and then headed back through the canyons to Pacific Coast Highway and home. The ride was great - about 60 miles of twisties except for the 5 or so miles of PCH.
After riding through the hills I was on my way back hom on Pacific Coast Highway. Pulling up to a stoplight the bike quit , the red warning light went on and the LCD said "URGENT SERVICE." Luckily I was in neutral coasting up to the light so I pushed it to the side. I turned the key off, waited a bit, then turned the key back on. The red light stayed on but the bike started. It just said "SERVICE" at the bottom of the LCD. I nursed it home (was only about 3 miles away). I was low on fuels so I stopped at the gas station that is a block from my apt. When I turned it back on, no red light and no "SERVICE" on the LCD.
Doesn't really give me a warm and fuzzy I suppose I'll have to get it off to the dealer so they can check if any codes were thrown.
yes, it is friday
Monday is live music night. Usually just playing it (rehearsal), but tonight I requested that we move rehearsal early so that we could head over to Typhoon to catch the Bruce Lofgren Jazz Orchestra. Now normally I'm not one to chase a lot of live music. A variety of reasons behind that (mostly I'd rather be playing than watching), but I will go out to hear someone special. And tonight, that would be Keith Emerson, sitting in with BLJO.
Keith Emerson with Brian Auger jamming it up
"Writing is rewriting." I don't know who said that. Well, actually that isn't quite true...I know a lot of people who've said that. All of them writers oddly enough. At any rate, it certainly is the case as we close in on proposal deadlines. In this case, continuation work and splitting duties with one other author. Normally for writing with "n" authors where n>1 I'd suggest a wiki, but in this case we're working from a legacy word document. More hassle than the gain using the collaborative tool. So I work on a section and wait for an update so I can then rip and tear on his stuff. Luckily the egos are small on both sides of the table so he won't get offended if I change everything he writes. I think ;-)
Well the rewrite was fine. Until I was told that due to the funding coming from two different colors of money, there had to be two separate proposals. *sigh* Guess who'll be up late writing. Again.
A trip to Chavez Ravine to see the Dodgers play the Cardinals. I rarely go to MLB games and tonight I was reminded why. As my friend Su said as we were walking out (there were 3 adults and 4 kids in our rain-soaked group), "we could have just bought a few beachballs and saved $150."
A busy night of errands (along with obligatory "motorcycling is dangerous" email), but Italian Bike Night (complete with Laker game) soldiers on. Not sure what that Suzuki was doing there though...interloper.
a boy and his boy and his art
Yesterday I was driving to the range with my 11 year old son. I live very close to Los Angeles National Cemetary, where over 85K are interned. Today, driving north on the 405 freeway I pointed out thousands of small flags on the individual gravesites. My son, being his typical opinionated self, stated, "wars are very sad."
And of course this was being said when he knew in 20 minutes or so we'd be sending rounds downrange into paper targets, much to his delight. The irony (on one level) and appropriateness (on another level) were not lost on me.
As we drove I composed a thesis on the topic of Memorial Day and wars. Of course most of it spilled right out of my brains before I could carve out a bit of time to actually write things down. So forgive the ramble and the somewhat fragmented nature of this, but it is what it is. This morning I heard a familiar drone and told Calvin to run outside quickly. He had no idea what was going on (although he's seen them before, just forgotten), but I knew the sound of radial engines when I hear them. A small squadron (seems like it shrinks a little each year) of WWII era single engine planes.
Keep the camera. Send it back. Keep the camera. Send it back. Keep the camera...
Somebody stick a fork in me.
When asked why I ride, I can now refer to a Pelican thread which refers to a quote from a WWI fighter pilot who when asked why he flies, replied:
"Because it releases my mind from the tyranny of petty things"
An adventurous evening to be sure. Did I mention that I hate the Hollywood Bowl? I stupidly didn't sign up for the shuttle from Westwood so instead it was heading east at 6:30pm for a 7:30pm show. So I finally walked into the place (after hiding my camera to get in - damned if I was going to walk all the way back to the parking lot to put it back). And found out that I had missed *all* of Elvis Costello's set.
Funny what you find rummaging through old boxes. Some prose written in Santa Cruz circa 1980. While...um...altered.
Watching the surf film "Step Into Liquid." I guess this saw some mainstream play, but it feels like most other surf films, though it is a tad higher budget. A little too philosophical at times, but I'll forgive Dana Brown. The reality is that people either get it or they don't. I know some who won't set foot in the ocean. Others who used to surf but drifted away. I'm proud/sad to say that I still hit the lineup when I can, and should do it a lot more often (I would if I didn't have to drive all the way to Zuma for decent water quality). There is nothing like riding a wave. Period. And until you've done it, it can't be described. And some, even after experiencing it, for whatever reason don't go back. Like they say, there's a butt for every seat...
Not the top of the world, but one of the high points around Los Angeles. Mt. Wilson has seen me before on two wheels (both gas and human powered), and it'll see me again. You just don't want to sit too long underneath these bad boys...