Saturday, June 07, 2003
IS THERE ANYBODY OUT THERE?
What ever happened to live music? Is it even relevant anymore?
Last night I had a ride at my disposal, so I went for a cruise. I had all these gigantic promotional posters that Mike Odd of Rosemary's Billygoat gave me, so I went down to 51 Buckingham in Pomona to see if they wanted them. Although I am the Rock and Roll Mayor, by virtue of my unsuccessful candidacy for mayor of Pomona a full decade ago, I must admit that I visit Pomona on only the most rarest of occasions, for reasons that I won't go into now, except to say that it takes a lot more than a sign to make something an "Arts Colony." For instance, the Vault, where 51 is located is a place that, well, my opinion is that there has probably been more meth dealing there over the years than anything nearing inspired rock and roll. But since we're playing there in a week, I realized it was time to get off my ass and check it out.
I got there and was greeted by Joe Black, one of the two proprietors of 51, the other being a guy named Rollo. When I walked in the place, I was stunned. Walls and walls of art, good art, diverse art, we're not talking MOMA here but still, considering the blunted, dilapidated condition of Pomona 2nd St as a whole, quite an eye-opener. I had this feeling it would be, after I had seen the silk screen full-color poster they had made for the show that they gave me in Hollywood last week. I said, "This can't be any show that we're playing, it's too good!" Rollo makes a poster for each show. He's been doing it for years and one of the pieces of art hanging is a collage of his work from the last ten years or so, with every big name band represented. So it's a kick to see one for your own band, and it doesn't matter how far down the crap list you are or how doomed your show is - on the poster you look like The Allman Brothers at the goddamn Fillmore. Even still, despite the fact that 51 has been doing this for a while, and all the effort going into it (like they actually have a real stage in there), there was almost nobody in the vast ballroom-sized building to watch the kid band from New York (welcome to the West Coast, kiddos) play some routine punk music. In fact, I'm not altogether sure there was any paying customers at all when I was in there. Everybody looked like they worked there or were in one of the later bands. I realize that for all intents and purposes the Glass House is somehow the only game in town, but these are $5 shows, with a full bar and damn strong drinks. The people are friendly, the atmosphere is light, so what does it take to create and sustain interest? I've been to enough shows on that street to know who's putting effort into something and who's just trying to suck up some quick dough.
I had to leave myself because I couldn't resist the notion of going to see Hudson play at the Back Door in Pomona. The Back Door is only a mile or two away from the Arts Colony, but it is a culture apart. In my high school days we were almost certain it was a gay bar, with a name like that, and maybe it was once but now it's just a working class bar on the east part of Mission Blvd. And talk about atmosphere. Here's a place tucked in between the Pomona Animal Hospital and Mission Lawnmower, with the welding place, among other small businesses tucked in the back. Across the street is Mel's Used Vehicles, with its glitzy hanging triangles hovering over its pre-owned carlot. Just a stones throw away is the Golden Ox, still cranking after at least 30 years to my knowledge, one of two Golden Ox's that have survived in Pomona (the other is at Park and Holt). Inside the Back Door it's cozy and brightly lit. After initially thinking I'd stumbled in on the wrong night, I found Wallachy at the bar. I didn't recognize Hudson at first because he's shaved his head Tony Levin style, but there he was, sweating up a storm behind the drums, as the band belted out "Evil Ways" by Santana. It was a six-piece band. There was a couple of guys playing pool, and a smattering of customers, mostly Black and Latino, fairly well-to-do I would imagine, based on the SUVs and sports cars in the parking lot. Lots of guys wearing Hawaiian shirts. There was a couple of TV screens with ESPN on, a juke box, an array of sports-themed streamers. There was no stage, in fact the band had to set up underneath the dart boards. Hudson has a nice little racket going here. He has the whole month of June booked with any number of throw-together bands, all of which include him on drums. On Friday's it is dance music from 9 to 1 and on Saturdays it's the Hudson Jazz Quartet from 6 to 9 and karaoke from 10 to 1. I aspire to make it for every band, and that's going to take some doing since we have a gig next week.
Live musicians are a rare breed, mainly because live music is so devalued now. There were more people in the Back Door when I came than 51 Buckingham, but at its peak I only counted 20 in the room, including the owner and bouncer and so forth. There was a little more than a 3-1 customer to band member ratio. Everybody in the band is at least 40 years old by my estimation, and all of them likely have a "real" job. Yet, they play, it's in their blood, and it doesn't really matter where anymore, they just have to do it, even if nobody is paying any attention to them, even if all they get is a free beer. Not that long ago, this place might have been packed with people, but no more. Even when it's free, live music in itself is not a draw anymore. I've seen big huge long lines of people waiting to dance to a DJ - that's where the chicks are. Why? What happened? Kids from my generation would never sit still for that. Slick, producer dominated music has a certain appeal, but there's nothing quite like a searing guitar solo, or a percussionist making use of every obscure drum in their kit. I don't get it, but I'm prejudice I suppose.
By the third set things were peaking. Some shady guy in a black hat was working out every single woman (all three of them) in the place, with no luck. The women scared me, they all looked like my friend's ex-wife, with model good looks and full figures that made them hot stuff when they were 17 but now they are just bigger, older and more frightenening than sexy - yet, it's still enough to get some interest, at least they hope so. And the guys, well there was one at the bar wearing a cowboy hat and suspenders and another that weighed 300 pounds who started smoking. But the highlight was when some geezer with curly, graying hair and a beach ball sized gut, smoking a corn cob pipe, sauntered up to the dance floor and started putting on the moves - doing Michael Jackson stuff, bending over, grabbing his crotch. This got a few chuckles from those of us in front. He seemingly did it anonymously and was already trudging away when three women came up and herded him back. Suddenly he's a star, surrounded by babes! Well, one was the owner and there was the one with big boobs and the one that was in a dress. And they really weren't dancing with him, although he was in their circle. Still, they pretty much ignored him until he started getting down and dirty, practically rolling on the floor and shaking his beer gut, occasionally sending out a puff of smoke from the corn cob pipe. This elicted several hoots from the women and when the song was over and they all walked off, it was telling that no one applauded. Not for them, not for the band, not because I was in the house, nothing. I had to take my leave then because I knew what was to follow - that last deperate hour at a bar where so much is wished for and so little accomplished. I know that bar feeling all too well.
What ever happened to live music? Is it even relevant anymore?
Last night I had a ride at my disposal, so I went for a cruise. I had all these gigantic promotional posters that Mike Odd of Rosemary's Billygoat gave me, so I went down to 51 Buckingham in Pomona to see if they wanted them. Although I am the Rock and Roll Mayor, by virtue of my unsuccessful candidacy for mayor of Pomona a full decade ago, I must admit that I visit Pomona on only the most rarest of occasions, for reasons that I won't go into now, except to say that it takes a lot more than a sign to make something an "Arts Colony." For instance, the Vault, where 51 is located is a place that, well, my opinion is that there has probably been more meth dealing there over the years than anything nearing inspired rock and roll. But since we're playing there in a week, I realized it was time to get off my ass and check it out.
I got there and was greeted by Joe Black, one of the two proprietors of 51, the other being a guy named Rollo. When I walked in the place, I was stunned. Walls and walls of art, good art, diverse art, we're not talking MOMA here but still, considering the blunted, dilapidated condition of Pomona 2nd St as a whole, quite an eye-opener. I had this feeling it would be, after I had seen the silk screen full-color poster they had made for the show that they gave me in Hollywood last week. I said, "This can't be any show that we're playing, it's too good!" Rollo makes a poster for each show. He's been doing it for years and one of the pieces of art hanging is a collage of his work from the last ten years or so, with every big name band represented. So it's a kick to see one for your own band, and it doesn't matter how far down the crap list you are or how doomed your show is - on the poster you look like The Allman Brothers at the goddamn Fillmore. Even still, despite the fact that 51 has been doing this for a while, and all the effort going into it (like they actually have a real stage in there), there was almost nobody in the vast ballroom-sized building to watch the kid band from New York (welcome to the West Coast, kiddos) play some routine punk music. In fact, I'm not altogether sure there was any paying customers at all when I was in there. Everybody looked like they worked there or were in one of the later bands. I realize that for all intents and purposes the Glass House is somehow the only game in town, but these are $5 shows, with a full bar and damn strong drinks. The people are friendly, the atmosphere is light, so what does it take to create and sustain interest? I've been to enough shows on that street to know who's putting effort into something and who's just trying to suck up some quick dough.
I had to leave myself because I couldn't resist the notion of going to see Hudson play at the Back Door in Pomona. The Back Door is only a mile or two away from the Arts Colony, but it is a culture apart. In my high school days we were almost certain it was a gay bar, with a name like that, and maybe it was once but now it's just a working class bar on the east part of Mission Blvd. And talk about atmosphere. Here's a place tucked in between the Pomona Animal Hospital and Mission Lawnmower, with the welding place, among other small businesses tucked in the back. Across the street is Mel's Used Vehicles, with its glitzy hanging triangles hovering over its pre-owned carlot. Just a stones throw away is the Golden Ox, still cranking after at least 30 years to my knowledge, one of two Golden Ox's that have survived in Pomona (the other is at Park and Holt). Inside the Back Door it's cozy and brightly lit. After initially thinking I'd stumbled in on the wrong night, I found Wallachy at the bar. I didn't recognize Hudson at first because he's shaved his head Tony Levin style, but there he was, sweating up a storm behind the drums, as the band belted out "Evil Ways" by Santana. It was a six-piece band. There was a couple of guys playing pool, and a smattering of customers, mostly Black and Latino, fairly well-to-do I would imagine, based on the SUVs and sports cars in the parking lot. Lots of guys wearing Hawaiian shirts. There was a couple of TV screens with ESPN on, a juke box, an array of sports-themed streamers. There was no stage, in fact the band had to set up underneath the dart boards. Hudson has a nice little racket going here. He has the whole month of June booked with any number of throw-together bands, all of which include him on drums. On Friday's it is dance music from 9 to 1 and on Saturdays it's the Hudson Jazz Quartet from 6 to 9 and karaoke from 10 to 1. I aspire to make it for every band, and that's going to take some doing since we have a gig next week.
Live musicians are a rare breed, mainly because live music is so devalued now. There were more people in the Back Door when I came than 51 Buckingham, but at its peak I only counted 20 in the room, including the owner and bouncer and so forth. There was a little more than a 3-1 customer to band member ratio. Everybody in the band is at least 40 years old by my estimation, and all of them likely have a "real" job. Yet, they play, it's in their blood, and it doesn't really matter where anymore, they just have to do it, even if nobody is paying any attention to them, even if all they get is a free beer. Not that long ago, this place might have been packed with people, but no more. Even when it's free, live music in itself is not a draw anymore. I've seen big huge long lines of people waiting to dance to a DJ - that's where the chicks are. Why? What happened? Kids from my generation would never sit still for that. Slick, producer dominated music has a certain appeal, but there's nothing quite like a searing guitar solo, or a percussionist making use of every obscure drum in their kit. I don't get it, but I'm prejudice I suppose.
By the third set things were peaking. Some shady guy in a black hat was working out every single woman (all three of them) in the place, with no luck. The women scared me, they all looked like my friend's ex-wife, with model good looks and full figures that made them hot stuff when they were 17 but now they are just bigger, older and more frightenening than sexy - yet, it's still enough to get some interest, at least they hope so. And the guys, well there was one at the bar wearing a cowboy hat and suspenders and another that weighed 300 pounds who started smoking. But the highlight was when some geezer with curly, graying hair and a beach ball sized gut, smoking a corn cob pipe, sauntered up to the dance floor and started putting on the moves - doing Michael Jackson stuff, bending over, grabbing his crotch. This got a few chuckles from those of us in front. He seemingly did it anonymously and was already trudging away when three women came up and herded him back. Suddenly he's a star, surrounded by babes! Well, one was the owner and there was the one with big boobs and the one that was in a dress. And they really weren't dancing with him, although he was in their circle. Still, they pretty much ignored him until he started getting down and dirty, practically rolling on the floor and shaking his beer gut, occasionally sending out a puff of smoke from the corn cob pipe. This elicted several hoots from the women and when the song was over and they all walked off, it was telling that no one applauded. Not for them, not for the band, not because I was in the house, nothing. I had to take my leave then because I knew what was to follow - that last deperate hour at a bar where so much is wished for and so little accomplished. I know that bar feeling all too well.
Friday, June 06, 2003
ROCK AND ROLL SONG LYRICS
Well, I've been bragging about "You Suck" - here is the first verse:
All that Groovin' at the Grove was a stab in the back
YOU SUCK!
It's a Bitter Pill to swallow puttin' up with that smack
YOU SUCK!
Just another lame half-ass attempt
YOU SUCK!
All I really want to say is just get bent
YOU SUCK!
I give you the best of me
You flat out rejected me
YOU SUCK!
SUCK SUCK SUCK SUCK SUCK!
There's more but, you get the idea!
Well, I've been bragging about "You Suck" - here is the first verse:
All that Groovin' at the Grove was a stab in the back
YOU SUCK!
It's a Bitter Pill to swallow puttin' up with that smack
YOU SUCK!
Just another lame half-ass attempt
YOU SUCK!
All I really want to say is just get bent
YOU SUCK!
I give you the best of me
You flat out rejected me
YOU SUCK!
SUCK SUCK SUCK SUCK SUCK!
There's more but, you get the idea!
NEW SHOWS ARRIVING EVERY DAY
Here is a thumbnail sketch of the current D-Squad show schedule:
Friday June 13 - 51 Buckingham, Pomona (W/Rosemary's Billygoat)
Sunday June 15 - Mondo Video a Go Go, Los Angeles
Friday June 27 - Liquid Den, Huntington Beach (W/The Controllers)
Go to web site links to find out factual information. Other hype will follow.
Here is a thumbnail sketch of the current D-Squad show schedule:
Friday June 13 - 51 Buckingham, Pomona (W/Rosemary's Billygoat)
Sunday June 15 - Mondo Video a Go Go, Los Angeles
Friday June 27 - Liquid Den, Huntington Beach (W/The Controllers)
Go to web site links to find out factual information. Other hype will follow.
IT'S A RANDOM RANDOM WORLD
Right. Just about everywhere I go I run into someone I know. At the Odd Art Show, it was the kids from Nick's Cafe Poetry Night. I hadn't seen them in about five years. "How completely random," one of them said. Later that night someone else comes up to me and asks if we had played yet and I said yes and then he says, "Yeah, I used to see you at school," and he was a CMC grad '92. The D-Squad used to own the Claremont Colleges back then, which is surprising since my experience there as a student/band leader was less than thrilling and led to a song called "You Suck." I don't exactly remember this guy but imagine the thrill you would get looking in the paper and some obscure band you saw as a kid is still playing somehow. Except that he missed the show. But he will get another chance. The same thing happened in San Francisco last year, a kid who had seen us at Scripps College in the 80s showed up and he had an autographed picture of the band from the old days - so we signed an updated version. I sure wish we could get famous for these people, instead of being a bit of an asterisk in their lives.
Well, that was at the gig but I also run into lots of people in my own neighborhood, literally, when I'm out running in the neighborhood. This last week I was plodding down Foothill and I got to the light at Dartmouth and it turned red and I got all pissed, because I hate waiting for cars. So instead of stopping I made a right turn and sort of sneered at the vehicles as I went. That is until I heard someone yelling from this beat up old blue truck yelling "Mr. P!" at me and I looked and I didn't know who it was. "Who are you?" I yelled back. "It's Wallachy!" And indeed it was. Wallachy is one of the old D.B. gang, and I can't imagine I've seen him in 10 years. So I had to stop and come over and talk to him and hang up traffic. I know his whole family. Lauren used to cut my hair and she's married now and his parents are doing well, they're hip, they retired and became "extras" in the movie biz. I always enjoy talking to them. Wallachy himself sheepishly admitted that he was back at the homestead. That's classic D.B. for ya. What he was doing in my neck of the woods I'm not quite sure, maybe working. He did say that Hudson was gigging at the Back Door in Pomona this weekend, so hopefully I can make it out there and get all caught up. Then yesterday, on another run, I get beeped at and it's Steve Again from the Poets In Distress, just driving around with his buddy.
And these the ones I can remember, just off the top of my head, but in the last two weeks I've randomly run into at least a half dozen people I haven't seen in years - and this about the mean. It never stops.
And it's not just when I'm out on the town either. The other night Lob from the Liquid Den gives me a ring and he's got a gig for us later in the month because someone cancelled and it's with The Controllers and I'm like The Controllers? And Lob says yes, the same ones that have been around for like 25 years. But get this - the band that cancelled was The Stepmothers! This story is too lengthy to explain here but the old Posh Boy band The Stepmothers were apparently set to do a brief four gig comeback but for whatever reason it fell through and, quite ironically, we get the spot. I say that because although the Stepmothers predate the Squad by several years, not so the band that formed in their wake of their demise, The Unforgiven, which at one time in the mid-80s was the most sought after band in Los Angeles, if not the country. This was back in the days when people actually went to see bands in LA and there were dozens of clubs every night that were wall to wall packed. The Unforgiven had a brief but sensational ride through the biz while the Squad labored in their shadow. The Unforgiven got the big million dollar record deal while the Squad did something, played Pomona College or The Whiskey or something. In the end, after the album tanked and members defected, the Unforgiven wound up being 3/4 Stepmothers before bowing out altogether. So the fact that all these years later we would quite randomly be asked to fill a Stepmothers reunion cancellation is a bit of symbiotic convergence.
Stay tuned kids, more randomness to follow!
Right. Just about everywhere I go I run into someone I know. At the Odd Art Show, it was the kids from Nick's Cafe Poetry Night. I hadn't seen them in about five years. "How completely random," one of them said. Later that night someone else comes up to me and asks if we had played yet and I said yes and then he says, "Yeah, I used to see you at school," and he was a CMC grad '92. The D-Squad used to own the Claremont Colleges back then, which is surprising since my experience there as a student/band leader was less than thrilling and led to a song called "You Suck." I don't exactly remember this guy but imagine the thrill you would get looking in the paper and some obscure band you saw as a kid is still playing somehow. Except that he missed the show. But he will get another chance. The same thing happened in San Francisco last year, a kid who had seen us at Scripps College in the 80s showed up and he had an autographed picture of the band from the old days - so we signed an updated version. I sure wish we could get famous for these people, instead of being a bit of an asterisk in their lives.
Well, that was at the gig but I also run into lots of people in my own neighborhood, literally, when I'm out running in the neighborhood. This last week I was plodding down Foothill and I got to the light at Dartmouth and it turned red and I got all pissed, because I hate waiting for cars. So instead of stopping I made a right turn and sort of sneered at the vehicles as I went. That is until I heard someone yelling from this beat up old blue truck yelling "Mr. P!" at me and I looked and I didn't know who it was. "Who are you?" I yelled back. "It's Wallachy!" And indeed it was. Wallachy is one of the old D.B. gang, and I can't imagine I've seen him in 10 years. So I had to stop and come over and talk to him and hang up traffic. I know his whole family. Lauren used to cut my hair and she's married now and his parents are doing well, they're hip, they retired and became "extras" in the movie biz. I always enjoy talking to them. Wallachy himself sheepishly admitted that he was back at the homestead. That's classic D.B. for ya. What he was doing in my neck of the woods I'm not quite sure, maybe working. He did say that Hudson was gigging at the Back Door in Pomona this weekend, so hopefully I can make it out there and get all caught up. Then yesterday, on another run, I get beeped at and it's Steve Again from the Poets In Distress, just driving around with his buddy.
And these the ones I can remember, just off the top of my head, but in the last two weeks I've randomly run into at least a half dozen people I haven't seen in years - and this about the mean. It never stops.
And it's not just when I'm out on the town either. The other night Lob from the Liquid Den gives me a ring and he's got a gig for us later in the month because someone cancelled and it's with The Controllers and I'm like The Controllers? And Lob says yes, the same ones that have been around for like 25 years. But get this - the band that cancelled was The Stepmothers! This story is too lengthy to explain here but the old Posh Boy band The Stepmothers were apparently set to do a brief four gig comeback but for whatever reason it fell through and, quite ironically, we get the spot. I say that because although the Stepmothers predate the Squad by several years, not so the band that formed in their wake of their demise, The Unforgiven, which at one time in the mid-80s was the most sought after band in Los Angeles, if not the country. This was back in the days when people actually went to see bands in LA and there were dozens of clubs every night that were wall to wall packed. The Unforgiven had a brief but sensational ride through the biz while the Squad labored in their shadow. The Unforgiven got the big million dollar record deal while the Squad did something, played Pomona College or The Whiskey or something. In the end, after the album tanked and members defected, the Unforgiven wound up being 3/4 Stepmothers before bowing out altogether. So the fact that all these years later we would quite randomly be asked to fill a Stepmothers reunion cancellation is a bit of symbiotic convergence.
Stay tuned kids, more randomness to follow!
Wednesday, June 04, 2003
IS THAT SMOKE I FEEL RISING UP BETWEEN MY LEGS?
In relaxing the media ownership limits, FCC Chairman Michael Powell said, "I'm proud of what we did." What the FCC did was essentially to open up the hen house to the foxes. How can you be proud of that? All the FCC is really doing is saving itself the headache of having to fend off lawsuit after lawsuit brought on by the best lawyers Big Media has to offer. Not that the FCC really wanted this fight - it was mandated by this ruling by the U.S. Court of Appeals. The case in a nutshell is that Fox and Viacom sued the FCC because of the Commision's insistence on operating in the "public interest". Consider a pristine stretch of land that is bought by a developer, it represents unimaginable profits and damn those - usually city council members or environmentalists - who get in the way. That's why every city council in Southern California going all the way back to the beginning usually has a developer or two on board - for arm-twisting purposes. It's the same thing here. The FCC was forced to go back to the drawing board and "justify" its rules and they conducted a series of surveys to this purpose. Once the studies were posted on the FCC website, the public was asked to send in their comments. Here is one such study. Explains it all for you, doesn't it? In March 2003, Chairman Powell stated that "change may be imperative if we want to preserve free over the air television." Yet, the history of broadcasting in America presents a different view of this. Essentially, network interests back in the nascent days of radio lobbied successfully for regulation (yes, back then they wanted it!) that would provide them with the entire AM bandwidth spectrum for their own profit-making purposes. There are many books that detail this history, one that I recommend is Rich Media, Poor Democracy by Robert McChesney. Also a must-read is The Media Monopoly by Ben Bagdikian, now in its 6th printing. I think the key to the whole debate is the fact that
A) No major television network covered this story in any fashion, thus depriving the public necessary information to make an educated decision.
B) Nobody reads these books besides journalists, policy makers, punidts, professors and students.
C) John or Judy Q. Public has no idea what to make of FCC studies or lengthy court decisions, they would rather be watching popular entertainment programs.
Perhaps if the debate had been framed as a reality program - "Survivor: Scarce Resources" - and given a sexy host (maybe Heather Locklear), people could have been clued in and mobilized. However, I highly doubt it. How will this shake out? No way of telling at this point. My guess is that in a few years all of television will consist of a choice between this, this, and reruns of this.
Happy viewing. Hope you don't mind all the smoke.
In relaxing the media ownership limits, FCC Chairman Michael Powell said, "I'm proud of what we did." What the FCC did was essentially to open up the hen house to the foxes. How can you be proud of that? All the FCC is really doing is saving itself the headache of having to fend off lawsuit after lawsuit brought on by the best lawyers Big Media has to offer. Not that the FCC really wanted this fight - it was mandated by this ruling by the U.S. Court of Appeals. The case in a nutshell is that Fox and Viacom sued the FCC because of the Commision's insistence on operating in the "public interest". Consider a pristine stretch of land that is bought by a developer, it represents unimaginable profits and damn those - usually city council members or environmentalists - who get in the way. That's why every city council in Southern California going all the way back to the beginning usually has a developer or two on board - for arm-twisting purposes. It's the same thing here. The FCC was forced to go back to the drawing board and "justify" its rules and they conducted a series of surveys to this purpose. Once the studies were posted on the FCC website, the public was asked to send in their comments. Here is one such study. Explains it all for you, doesn't it? In March 2003, Chairman Powell stated that "change may be imperative if we want to preserve free over the air television." Yet, the history of broadcasting in America presents a different view of this. Essentially, network interests back in the nascent days of radio lobbied successfully for regulation (yes, back then they wanted it!) that would provide them with the entire AM bandwidth spectrum for their own profit-making purposes. There are many books that detail this history, one that I recommend is Rich Media, Poor Democracy by Robert McChesney. Also a must-read is The Media Monopoly by Ben Bagdikian, now in its 6th printing. I think the key to the whole debate is the fact that
A) No major television network covered this story in any fashion, thus depriving the public necessary information to make an educated decision.
B) Nobody reads these books besides journalists, policy makers, punidts, professors and students.
C) John or Judy Q. Public has no idea what to make of FCC studies or lengthy court decisions, they would rather be watching popular entertainment programs.
Perhaps if the debate had been framed as a reality program - "Survivor: Scarce Resources" - and given a sexy host (maybe Heather Locklear), people could have been clued in and mobilized. However, I highly doubt it. How will this shake out? No way of telling at this point. My guess is that in a few years all of television will consist of a choice between this, this, and reruns of this.
Happy viewing. Hope you don't mind all the smoke.
Tuesday, June 03, 2003
SPORTS SNORTS
(With apologies to Frazer Smith)
Although I'm a big Angels fan, I can't say I've been anywhere remotely close to a Mighty Ducks fan. In fact, I have never once seen them play at the Pond. In fact, I've only been to the Pond once in my life and that was for an Anaheim Bullfrogs roller hockey game. I was not impressed with the seating at the Pond, which is not surprising since I was sitting way up in the cheap seats. Part of the problem is the arena itself, which was built on a tiny sliver of land on the other side of the street from the baseball stadium. I remember when they were building it and going, "That lot is too small for an arena." Shows you what I know. They could do it all right, all they had to do was sacrifice leg room and reasonable viewing distance. Getting to your seat was not unlike doing a Baldy run, it's that steep. In addition to that, once the Ducks came in that was all she wrote for our pre-Angels game meeting place. On Douglass Road leading into the stadium is a business park that had a Murray's Tickets and we used to park outside the ticket place, for free, and hang out there and drink beers and so forth. We developed a very nice relationship with the manager of Murray's and five minutes before game time we would walk in and buy up the unused tix for something like five bucks, even if they were field level, and walk the 100 or so yards to the game. Hell, we wouldn't even sit in the seats, we would go to the Terrace level behind home plate and "raildog" which is something I'll have to explain in a future post. After the game we would go back to the business mall and drink more beers until the traffic had died down. We did this for, I don't know, almost ten years and we never had to pay because whoever managed the business mall didn't know, didn't care, couldn't see the use of charging to park there (well, I think when the Rams played there, they did but not during the baseball season) because, you know, the Angels haven't been the biggest draw in the world. All of this changed when the Ducks came in, and the reason it was different than when the Rams played is because hockey and baseball do overlap seasons and there are many times when the Ducks and Angels play on the same night - thus awakening the greedy, entrepreneurial spirit of the land owner. Well, nothing lasts forever, and we adjusted and found a free space roughly a billion miles further away, but hey, being a cheapskate is just as much work as being a gouger, that's for sure. Well, this is America - the free market spirit and all that. In the end, everybody's got their hand out. The curious part is how desiring to watch a sporting event is equated with limitless funds to do so. It's like, "Hey, you must have an extra "C" note burning a hole in your pocket, if you are here at the game." One day, I will present a much more rounded presentation on "What's wrong with sports today" but I am, as usual, getting off the topic.
The topic was the Ducks and as we all know, they have been kicking ass and are but two wins away from the Stanley Cup, and doing it in increasingly impressive fashion. So, philisophical beliefs aside, I am stoked they are doing so well - it takes the edge off the Angels having a tank year and makes the LA Kings look bad too. And though I've never been to the Pond, that doesn't mean I have never seen the Ducks play. In fact, I saw them play in their first year at Madison Square Garden, of all places, against the New York Rangers. In fact, it was in October of 93, one of their first games ever. If '93 sounds familiar, at least to New Yorkers, it's because that's the year the Rangers won the Cup. That night, however, was all Ducks. Terry Yake scored the club's first-ever hat trick and the Ducks won 3-1, much to the chagrin of the jaded, hysterically funny Ranger fans. I don't know what was more enjoyable to watch, the Ducks winning or the Ranger fans reacting to the Ranger's lousy play. Oddly, nobody went after us, SoCal hockey fans were considered a curiosity, and besides, the Ducks took control of the game early, so there wasn't much for the Ranger fans to root for. So they started rooting against. I remember the Ranger goalie, Richter, especially getting the worst of it. Typical comment: "The Mighty Ducks versus the Mighty Sucks!" It was a blast. We sat way up in the cheap seats and had a great time, not because the Ducks won but because the New York fans were so hyped up, so into it. On the other hand, being LA fans, you're used to hearing how you leave early and you're fair-weather and all that. So with time running out in the third period, and the Ranger fans visibly demoralized, I stood up and yelled, "Never say die!" To which I got jeered, just for trying to pick up their spirits. Of course, at this point they had no idea this would be their year of destiny, but that made it even better. And then, with several minutes left in the game, fans started leaving, I stood up again and yelled, "What's the matter, is there a traffic jam on the Subway?" Dodger fans, my ass. New York fans leave just as early when their team is getting stomped (which doesn't wholly excuse brake lights in the background of Kirk Gibson's World Series homer, but you get the picture). All I know is that later, when the Rangers were creaming everybody, I would have given anything to be back at the Garden, with those same fans, rooting all the way for them in the playoffs. It just seemed like the best place in the world to be.
So in honor of that, go Ducks. Bring the cup to OC, and we'll have two champs in town, neither of them the Lakers. And who would have predicted that a year ago?
(With apologies to Frazer Smith)
Although I'm a big Angels fan, I can't say I've been anywhere remotely close to a Mighty Ducks fan. In fact, I have never once seen them play at the Pond. In fact, I've only been to the Pond once in my life and that was for an Anaheim Bullfrogs roller hockey game. I was not impressed with the seating at the Pond, which is not surprising since I was sitting way up in the cheap seats. Part of the problem is the arena itself, which was built on a tiny sliver of land on the other side of the street from the baseball stadium. I remember when they were building it and going, "That lot is too small for an arena." Shows you what I know. They could do it all right, all they had to do was sacrifice leg room and reasonable viewing distance. Getting to your seat was not unlike doing a Baldy run, it's that steep. In addition to that, once the Ducks came in that was all she wrote for our pre-Angels game meeting place. On Douglass Road leading into the stadium is a business park that had a Murray's Tickets and we used to park outside the ticket place, for free, and hang out there and drink beers and so forth. We developed a very nice relationship with the manager of Murray's and five minutes before game time we would walk in and buy up the unused tix for something like five bucks, even if they were field level, and walk the 100 or so yards to the game. Hell, we wouldn't even sit in the seats, we would go to the Terrace level behind home plate and "raildog" which is something I'll have to explain in a future post. After the game we would go back to the business mall and drink more beers until the traffic had died down. We did this for, I don't know, almost ten years and we never had to pay because whoever managed the business mall didn't know, didn't care, couldn't see the use of charging to park there (well, I think when the Rams played there, they did but not during the baseball season) because, you know, the Angels haven't been the biggest draw in the world. All of this changed when the Ducks came in, and the reason it was different than when the Rams played is because hockey and baseball do overlap seasons and there are many times when the Ducks and Angels play on the same night - thus awakening the greedy, entrepreneurial spirit of the land owner. Well, nothing lasts forever, and we adjusted and found a free space roughly a billion miles further away, but hey, being a cheapskate is just as much work as being a gouger, that's for sure. Well, this is America - the free market spirit and all that. In the end, everybody's got their hand out. The curious part is how desiring to watch a sporting event is equated with limitless funds to do so. It's like, "Hey, you must have an extra "C" note burning a hole in your pocket, if you are here at the game." One day, I will present a much more rounded presentation on "What's wrong with sports today" but I am, as usual, getting off the topic.
The topic was the Ducks and as we all know, they have been kicking ass and are but two wins away from the Stanley Cup, and doing it in increasingly impressive fashion. So, philisophical beliefs aside, I am stoked they are doing so well - it takes the edge off the Angels having a tank year and makes the LA Kings look bad too. And though I've never been to the Pond, that doesn't mean I have never seen the Ducks play. In fact, I saw them play in their first year at Madison Square Garden, of all places, against the New York Rangers. In fact, it was in October of 93, one of their first games ever. If '93 sounds familiar, at least to New Yorkers, it's because that's the year the Rangers won the Cup. That night, however, was all Ducks. Terry Yake scored the club's first-ever hat trick and the Ducks won 3-1, much to the chagrin of the jaded, hysterically funny Ranger fans. I don't know what was more enjoyable to watch, the Ducks winning or the Ranger fans reacting to the Ranger's lousy play. Oddly, nobody went after us, SoCal hockey fans were considered a curiosity, and besides, the Ducks took control of the game early, so there wasn't much for the Ranger fans to root for. So they started rooting against. I remember the Ranger goalie, Richter, especially getting the worst of it. Typical comment: "The Mighty Ducks versus the Mighty Sucks!" It was a blast. We sat way up in the cheap seats and had a great time, not because the Ducks won but because the New York fans were so hyped up, so into it. On the other hand, being LA fans, you're used to hearing how you leave early and you're fair-weather and all that. So with time running out in the third period, and the Ranger fans visibly demoralized, I stood up and yelled, "Never say die!" To which I got jeered, just for trying to pick up their spirits. Of course, at this point they had no idea this would be their year of destiny, but that made it even better. And then, with several minutes left in the game, fans started leaving, I stood up again and yelled, "What's the matter, is there a traffic jam on the Subway?" Dodger fans, my ass. New York fans leave just as early when their team is getting stomped (which doesn't wholly excuse brake lights in the background of Kirk Gibson's World Series homer, but you get the picture). All I know is that later, when the Rangers were creaming everybody, I would have given anything to be back at the Garden, with those same fans, rooting all the way for them in the playoffs. It just seemed like the best place in the world to be.
So in honor of that, go Ducks. Bring the cup to OC, and we'll have two champs in town, neither of them the Lakers. And who would have predicted that a year ago?
MY COMPLETELY RANDOM LIFE
Yesterday I drove to LAX to pick up some new students for school. Fortunately the flights were domestic. Don't know if you've ever waited for someone at the Tom Bradley International Terminal but I can assure you it is an exercise in drudgery, especially if you are waiting for someone you have never seen before. On the average it takes a passenger an hour to clear Customs, but I've waited much longer than that, often two hours and once, at least three. Suffice to say, a domestic flight does not have these problems. There were two students to pick up, both Chinese, both coming on different flights. The first was a girl named Li, although her American name is Rebecca (this is common, at least with Chinese students, to adopt an American first name while studying here). Since the airport is no place to hang out, indeed nowadays there is almost no place at an airport to hang out, and we had an hour or so to kill, we left and went to the nearby Carl's Jr. Unlike many students I receive at the airport, Rebecca had been in the U.S. for close to a year already, attending a high school in Mississippi. Her English wasn't bad (if I can hold a conversation with a student, that qualifies as not bad) but as I was talking to her I noticed the damndest thing. She had acquired a Mississippi accent! It was exhilarating and unnerving at the same time and of course she had no idea what I was talking about. But it's a hell of a thing to hear a Chinese ESL student saying "Y'all!" Also, I had assumed she was from Taiwan but no, she is from the Mainland. I was surprised that they could travel about the country so freely. Last summer I had to drive two Mainland kids back to the airport after they ditched their student group in Beverly Hills. The instructors just scooped them up and threw them on a flight back home with nothing more than a bag of food. Swift and sure justice. I felt like a heel for driving them. So it was a bit of a revelation for me to meet free-floating Mainlanders. What do you know about that?
Then Rebecca asked me who the next student was we were picking up, which I thought was odd. I told her his name was Long Long and she started laughing and says, "Oh no! I know him! He's from the same province as me!" And I'm like, whaaa---t! Talk about a small world. Here are two kids from China, half way on the other side of the world, flying into the same airport on the same day to attend the same school. This was not planned, in fact, Long (American name: Nick) had spent the last year in Indiana. Rebecca tried to convince me that she did not like Long, that he was crazy and "so ugly!" to boot. In fact, when he came out she turns to me and whispered, "See, he's so ugly!" But it was just teenaged goofing. They seemed to like each other just fine. I don't often work with Chinese students, and perhaps it was because they had been in America for quite a while, but they were very genial and gregarious. Japanese students are also very friendly, but very reserved. Rebecca kept punching me on the shoulder and kicking Long in the butt, that sort of thing. That's why I like this job, I love meeting and observing new people. I just don't like waiting at the airport, that's no fun at all. But, it's a job.
Yesterday I drove to LAX to pick up some new students for school. Fortunately the flights were domestic. Don't know if you've ever waited for someone at the Tom Bradley International Terminal but I can assure you it is an exercise in drudgery, especially if you are waiting for someone you have never seen before. On the average it takes a passenger an hour to clear Customs, but I've waited much longer than that, often two hours and once, at least three. Suffice to say, a domestic flight does not have these problems. There were two students to pick up, both Chinese, both coming on different flights. The first was a girl named Li, although her American name is Rebecca (this is common, at least with Chinese students, to adopt an American first name while studying here). Since the airport is no place to hang out, indeed nowadays there is almost no place at an airport to hang out, and we had an hour or so to kill, we left and went to the nearby Carl's Jr. Unlike many students I receive at the airport, Rebecca had been in the U.S. for close to a year already, attending a high school in Mississippi. Her English wasn't bad (if I can hold a conversation with a student, that qualifies as not bad) but as I was talking to her I noticed the damndest thing. She had acquired a Mississippi accent! It was exhilarating and unnerving at the same time and of course she had no idea what I was talking about. But it's a hell of a thing to hear a Chinese ESL student saying "Y'all!" Also, I had assumed she was from Taiwan but no, she is from the Mainland. I was surprised that they could travel about the country so freely. Last summer I had to drive two Mainland kids back to the airport after they ditched their student group in Beverly Hills. The instructors just scooped them up and threw them on a flight back home with nothing more than a bag of food. Swift and sure justice. I felt like a heel for driving them. So it was a bit of a revelation for me to meet free-floating Mainlanders. What do you know about that?
Then Rebecca asked me who the next student was we were picking up, which I thought was odd. I told her his name was Long Long and she started laughing and says, "Oh no! I know him! He's from the same province as me!" And I'm like, whaaa---t! Talk about a small world. Here are two kids from China, half way on the other side of the world, flying into the same airport on the same day to attend the same school. This was not planned, in fact, Long (American name: Nick) had spent the last year in Indiana. Rebecca tried to convince me that she did not like Long, that he was crazy and "so ugly!" to boot. In fact, when he came out she turns to me and whispered, "See, he's so ugly!" But it was just teenaged goofing. They seemed to like each other just fine. I don't often work with Chinese students, and perhaps it was because they had been in America for quite a while, but they were very genial and gregarious. Japanese students are also very friendly, but very reserved. Rebecca kept punching me on the shoulder and kicking Long in the butt, that sort of thing. That's why I like this job, I love meeting and observing new people. I just don't like waiting at the airport, that's no fun at all. But, it's a job.
Monday, June 02, 2003
MY COMPLETELY RANDOM LIFE
I work for an ESL school, driving students on field trips. It's not a horrible job and you get to meet people from all over the world. Last Saturday I drove a group to Disneyland and met this kid from Taiwan (by way, apparently, of Pensacola, Florida) and on the way home I showed him one of the bitchen' posters I got for the D-Squad's upcoming gig at 51 Buckingham in Pomona with Rosemary's Billygoat. It's a silk screen masterpiece that confused everyone as they thought that the posters were "theirs" to keep, instead of being used for their true purpose - to get paying customers to come to the show. (You'd be amazed at how people are just not hip to the process) Anyhow, even the kid wanted one but I wouldn't give it to him but I did engage him in a conversation about music, because he wanted to know what type of band I was in. He kept going, "Are you Chris Rock?" and I'm like what? You mean the comedian Chris Rock? No, he meant Christian Rock! No, I said, I highly doubt it. He kept saying it so much that I was sure that Chris Rock was all he listened to. Imagine my surprise when he told me his favorite band was Led Zeppelin! Damn, I thought, there is hope in this world, knamean? This is a 15 year old Chinese kid! Listening to the classics! Van Halen came on the radio and we listened to "Running With the Devil" and he liked it. Well, I try to influence the best that I can. As I dropped him off at his homestay I cried out, "Zeppelin rules!" and he got all fired up. He's been here a year and I can guarantee you that had to have been the first time someone has said that to him. It made me feel Proud to be an American.
I work for an ESL school, driving students on field trips. It's not a horrible job and you get to meet people from all over the world. Last Saturday I drove a group to Disneyland and met this kid from Taiwan (by way, apparently, of Pensacola, Florida) and on the way home I showed him one of the bitchen' posters I got for the D-Squad's upcoming gig at 51 Buckingham in Pomona with Rosemary's Billygoat. It's a silk screen masterpiece that confused everyone as they thought that the posters were "theirs" to keep, instead of being used for their true purpose - to get paying customers to come to the show. (You'd be amazed at how people are just not hip to the process) Anyhow, even the kid wanted one but I wouldn't give it to him but I did engage him in a conversation about music, because he wanted to know what type of band I was in. He kept going, "Are you Chris Rock?" and I'm like what? You mean the comedian Chris Rock? No, he meant Christian Rock! No, I said, I highly doubt it. He kept saying it so much that I was sure that Chris Rock was all he listened to. Imagine my surprise when he told me his favorite band was Led Zeppelin! Damn, I thought, there is hope in this world, knamean? This is a 15 year old Chinese kid! Listening to the classics! Van Halen came on the radio and we listened to "Running With the Devil" and he liked it. Well, I try to influence the best that I can. As I dropped him off at his homestay I cried out, "Zeppelin rules!" and he got all fired up. He's been here a year and I can guarantee you that had to have been the first time someone has said that to him. It made me feel Proud to be an American.
IN OTHER NEWS
I am pleased to report that this blog has already been purchased in a mega-merger with the media conglomerate Mike Powell Sleeps With Broadcast Money Inc. Nothing will change although I may be forced to share office space and resources with numerous other blogs and websites and that my own views will be [this portion edited out by shareholders] because they promised me a Hummer. More news to follow!
I am pleased to report that this blog has already been purchased in a mega-merger with the media conglomerate Mike Powell Sleeps With Broadcast Money Inc. Nothing will change although I may be forced to share office space and resources with numerous other blogs and websites and that my own views will be [this portion edited out by shareholders] because they promised me a Hummer. More news to follow!
BLOGGER BLUES
I spent several hours composing my last message - a critical analysis of comic strips - and I went over to my buddy's house to show off and called up my site and what did I find? Something else, someone else's blog. At first I thought, "My god, less than a week and I've already been hacked!" It was quite demoralizing. So I logged on to my user site and it was still there but everything was all changed around, the page was different, it had windows and partitions and I immediately thought, "Well, they said they were changing things over." So I let it go at that. The next day, Sunday, I was at my mom's and when I tried to call up my site all I got was the Cannot Find Server message. Then, when I logged on to my user site, it was back to the way it was originally, adding to my confusion. Plus, my blog seemed to exist within my user site, but in two hours I never got it on the internet proper. So I wrote a letter to Blogger "control" and am still awaiting a response. Today, at the public library, I got my blog back and I clicked on a link and it worked fine. When I clicked back, however, all I got was a blank screen. This has happened more often than not. As I was hoping to eventually replace my mass email list with this blog, I realize that it could be a disastrous move. No one is going to screw with a web site that gets lost, goes blank, doesn't appear consistently or whatever. I sure as hell hope the answer is not, "pony up some dough for a pay service." I mean, ultimately, yes. I can understand that. But I kind of wanted to get my feet wet first. This is my first week at this and I'm still essentially writing notes to myself since no one knows that this blog exists. But it's going to stay that way at this current level of service. I hope that this experiement is not over before it even gets a chance to begin. I'm really proud of my stupid comics review.
I spent several hours composing my last message - a critical analysis of comic strips - and I went over to my buddy's house to show off and called up my site and what did I find? Something else, someone else's blog. At first I thought, "My god, less than a week and I've already been hacked!" It was quite demoralizing. So I logged on to my user site and it was still there but everything was all changed around, the page was different, it had windows and partitions and I immediately thought, "Well, they said they were changing things over." So I let it go at that. The next day, Sunday, I was at my mom's and when I tried to call up my site all I got was the Cannot Find Server message. Then, when I logged on to my user site, it was back to the way it was originally, adding to my confusion. Plus, my blog seemed to exist within my user site, but in two hours I never got it on the internet proper. So I wrote a letter to Blogger "control" and am still awaiting a response. Today, at the public library, I got my blog back and I clicked on a link and it worked fine. When I clicked back, however, all I got was a blank screen. This has happened more often than not. As I was hoping to eventually replace my mass email list with this blog, I realize that it could be a disastrous move. No one is going to screw with a web site that gets lost, goes blank, doesn't appear consistently or whatever. I sure as hell hope the answer is not, "pony up some dough for a pay service." I mean, ultimately, yes. I can understand that. But I kind of wanted to get my feet wet first. This is my first week at this and I'm still essentially writing notes to myself since no one knows that this blog exists. But it's going to stay that way at this current level of service. I hope that this experiement is not over before it even gets a chance to begin. I'm really proud of my stupid comics review.
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