10 Things to Think About on a Friday (and some ranting)

Wow...busy week...and really, not even the motivation to do a post on the first weekend at the Lake House. Probably because it didn't feel much like the lake, with rain and even brief thunder and lightening storms making for an interesting Memorial Day. It was still a great time (and we even got a starlight booze cruise in), but didn't quite feel like the lake. The highlight of the weekend came on Sunday when we started funneling at 1:30. At about 4 we see people on the deck next to us playing Beirut. I tell K to challenge them for us, but she's hesitant about the fact that she sucks at Beirut. I tell her I'll carry her.

We get up there and it's a 10 cup game on a longer table than I'm used to. Despite my promise to carry the team, by the time we're down 7-3 I've only hit 1 of our 3 cups with K doing the rest. Then, with oblivion (and the shame of losing a challenge that we proposed) staring us in the face, I start knocking down shots. With the game tied 1-1, I hit the final cup and end it. I'm ecstatic and drunk.

In other news, I hate the LA Lakers. It's not just for Kobe, but for everything the organization stands for. The fans in LA are weak sauce bitches who only root for a team when they're winning. How many people jumped on that Anaheim Angels bandwagon when they were in the World Series? The Lakers were the toast of the town when they won three back to back championships, but the fans disappeared during the last two seasons with no playoff appearances, and now when you watch the game from last night, the seats are packed and everyone is once again a Lakers fan.

Of course, I don't like Kobe much either. I love how he plays and his passion for winning, but his smug attitude combined with the rape charges that I'm still unconvinced either way about leave me with a disdain for the man. Furthermore, did anyone watch the game last night? With 5 seconds left, 5 points up, the Lakers had the game in hand. The Spurs had decided not to foul and basically walked away from Vujacic, who had the ball. And what does that classless piece of shit do? He nails a 3 at the buzzer to make it a 100-92 final score. Leave it to a player in Los Angeles to pull such a poor sportsman move. I hope someone beats him with a belt, or at least elbows him hard the next time LA plays San Antonio.

I woke up today with the strange feeling that we're halfway through the year and it feels like two months. Summer is here, but the weather outside today is garbage. I hope it warms up for tomorrow's street fair, or it'll be a very long day. Alright, I'm digressing here...you came for 10 things you could ponder to get you through to Friday night. Here they are...

1) If it isn't bad enough that we went over to occupy a foreign country that we shouldn't be in, now we have US Troops spreading the good word of Christianity to native Muslims? I'm beginning to feel that Bush should have been in the gallows with Saddam. Now there's a reality show I'd watch.
2) My question is this....when the Catholic church is so intolerant as to threaten to excommunicate female priests and anyone who ordains them, why would you continue to be a part of a religion that preaches love and acceptance in the guise of Jesus Christ, yet continually shows intolerance and hatred for others (women priests, homosexuals, Muslims)? Seems a tad hypocritical to me...
3) This is amazing...how would you feel if you found out that someone had been living in your closet, eating your food, showering in your home and sharing your space for a year, and you had absolutely no idea?
4) There are few things that bother me more on a "life isn't fair" level than college athletes being exploited for money by their institutions and the NCAA. The NCAA makes buckets of money on the "student-athletes" every year, and have rigid rules in place to prevent them from ever seeing a dime in return for their revenue production. While it's not slavery (the athletes could decide not to play, or just go pro), I do consider it indentured servitude. This is the latest on the Reggie Bush scandal over whether he did or did not accept money while at USC. My questions are these...no matter what school or which athlete, do you a) think that the rules preventing them from gaining anything for their efforts are right, b) think that anything they get off the field of play makes any difference whatsoever in how they perform on it and c) will taking away a Heisman or championship, or anything else you want to take away from any particular athlete, change how they actually performed and what they accomplished that season? Talk about an exercise in futility, but the NCAA needs to make this more fair to ALL athletes.
5) Here's a good music rights question....if you perform a cover of someone else's song in concert, and get videotaped doing it, who has the right to pull the YouTube video of the songs? You, or the original artist?
6) I'm not going to lie. The idea of a Donnie Darko sequel has me alternately bursting with joy and downright terrified. Please don't botch this movie...
7) So after seeing how PopCrunch rated the top 50 hottest female athletes of all time, what do you think of their top 10? I'll have to admit, I'm a sucker for #12.
8) When 50's hot, the roof is definitely on fire.
9) I've been to Ohio. So I had to include this as I laughed hysterically upon reading the headline, "Columbus, Ohio's Happening Side."
10) When you're out and about this weekend, think of how much more fun you would be having if that beer you were drinking was actually space beer.

Happy Friday people...be good to each other.

10 Things to Think About on a Thursday

Ya, you read that right....with the long weekend ahead of me and a Thursday night departure for the opening weekend of the summer in Lake country (read about the last time we were up at the lake here), I'm going to have to give you your ten thinking things a day early. So good for me, so sad for you. On a positive note, if you're bored, you can read 5 today and 5 tomorrow. Now how considerate is that? Enjoy the Memorial Day weekend.

1) Not the greatest news for the Summer and the many barbecues we'd like to have.
2) Sounds pretty fun to be able to see to the other side of the ocean!
3) I'm really excited for the possibility of Sky Farms everywhere.
4) If someone is really spiking the Olsen twins' coffee with whole milk, it is both hilarious and ridiculous.
5) Back in my 10 Things to Think About on a Friday (4/11), I asked the question: Let me get this straight...Bush wants us to fight terrorists "over there so we don't have to fight them over here," yet wants to bring one of the most deadly and contagious diseases known to livestock from a secure island where it has operated safely for years over to the mainland, near cattle? This makes sense how? Now it's been reported that he's pushing for this move without proper research. Wait, is this an item about Iraq or flawed positions on foot and mouth disease research facilities?
6) Do you know who Jordan is? He caught the fact that I had missed a #6 here. Kudos to him.
7) While the idea of date rape drugs is frightening, isn't it more scary to think that you could trust someone even when you know you shouldn't, and not know why?
8) What does a 60 day supply of medical marijuana mean to you? 2 pounds?
9) What do you think of a McCain aide refusing to campaign against Obama?
10) What do you think....Cameron Diaz, bald?

Happy Memorial Day!

May iPod Update

{for complete music related posts, see .Evolving.Music}

Alright, it's time for the May update and the second installment of What I'm Hearing. For those that missed last month, this will be a monthly post centered around the new music I've put on my iPod. The May update, for those interested in numbers and stats, contains 135 new songs, and they are excellent! Here's what I'm hearing now...

Atmosphere, When Life Gives You Lemons, Paint That Shit Gold: After two releases viewed largely as disappointing in musical content, Atmosphere has returned with an excellent set of hip-hop that finds the duo of Ant and Slug returning to the stylistic methods that created their success originally. The beats on this album are tight, with many melancholy tracks for Slug's introspective and multi-tiered delivery to lilt over. Ant produces an album that ranges from sad slow hip-hop to upbeat party movers, with songs based in undulating bass rhythms as well as melodic piano rifts. Slug, rapping about various people's personal perspective on life, finds new inspiration for his rhymes by rapping from both a first person and omniscient angle and creating rhymes that could be interpreted multiple ways. Don't Sleep On: "Yesterday," "Me," and "Your Glass House."

Blue Scholars, The Long March EP: While I have been talking consistently about their self-titled debut and sophomore release Bayani, I just discovered this EP full of previously unreleased tracks. They continue the smooth music and laid back lyricism of the two studio albums and deliver a number of excellent tracks. This may be an EP, but it listens like a full effort album. Don't Sleep On: "Sagaba (Remix)," "La Botella," and "27" (technically off the Butter and Gun$ release)

Chicha Libre, Sonido Amazonico: When you pick up this album for the first time, your initial thought is that you're listening to some 70s music out of South America. The style hails from Peru and in its heyday was an amalgamation of pop, reggae and Latin music. Here, this North American band has picked up the style, dusted it off and infused it with a natural and unforced feeling that also includes some surf music vibes among others. The instrumentation is exquisite, with hand drums and an organ being used to great effect throughout the album. This music is perfect for summer weather and boat trips. Dig it. Don't Sleep On: "La Cumbia del Zapatero," "Sonido Amazonico," and "Popcorn Andino." Here's a quote from the group's website..."CHICHA is the name of a corn-based liquor favored by the Incas in pre-colombian days. Chicha is also the name of a South American music craze which started out in the late 70's in the Peruvian Amazon. Cumbias amazonicas, as they were first called, were loosely inspired by Colombian accordion-driven cumbias but soon incorporated the distinctive sounds of Andean melodies, some Cuban son, and the psychedelic sounds of surf guitars, farfisa organs and moog synthesizers. The group draws its personnel from barbes regulars Bebe Eiffel, One Ring Zero and Las Rubias del norte."

Death Cab for Cutie, Narrow Stairs: The indie scene has been good to Death Cab, and the release of their new album, written in California, exemplifies the standard sounds we've come to expect from the group while also integrating a few new ones. Light piano and guitar, easy melodies and Gibbard's heartfelt and sometimes falsetto voice form the basis of the album, but the band branches out here with a few more intense segments, heavy drums and wall of sound concepts. Death Cab remains their strongest on the shorter melancholy songs and the ones where the music is just enough to keep Gibbard from sounding miserable, but their radio single of this one, "I Will Possess Your Heart," is a bit self-indulgent in its 8 minute running time and the long intro seems to go almost nowhere for minutes. "Your New Twin Sized Bed" demonstrates the group's ability to turn a very sad song into an enjoyable tune. All in all though, another solid installment from the group. Don't Sleep On: "Bixby Canyon Bridge," "Your New Twin Sized Bed," and "Grapevine Fires."

Immortal Technique, The 3rd World: I can't say much more about the 3 full tracks and 4 clips I've heard in from this album other than what I said late last week in this post. What I will say is that these three tracks ("Reverse Pimpology," "The 3rd World," and "The Payback) are all stellar, showcasing familiar Tech topics over a very different set of beats that forces him to find diversity in his delivery. He succeeds and makes June 24th's release date seem just too far off.

For the rest of the music I'm listening to this month, click here.

10 Things to Think About on a Friday

Welcome to Friday people...we're in the midst of a serious heat wave right now, which is excellent because I have to spend the entire day tomorrow sweating through everything I own in Gilroy. Fun. For anyone looking for something excellent and exciting to do, try going outside. Here's 10 things to think about to get you closer to your Saturday.

1) If you were kidnapped and held hostage for years, once you were free, would you want to own the place you were held?
2) Do you think running with two prosthetic legs an advantage or disadvantage in the Olympics?
3) Pregnant Angelina on the red carpet...
4) If you died, how long do you think it would take someone to notice?
5) The California Supreme Court is awesome, and I hope everyone takes advantage.
6) Apparently some of our best memories of these movies are improv...
7) What is it with US Servicemen and underage foreign girls? You think we'd train better...
8) Not often you read about a really bad celebrity break up.
9) An interesting tale of a minority valedictorian...
10) Could you eat on $1.75/day?

And a moment of silence here (although, how do you have NOT silence on a blog?) for Robert Mondavi. The legendary California winemaker died today at the age of 94. Have a Cabernet or something for him tonight...

Immortal Technique: The 3rd World Preview

{for complete music related posts, see .Evolving.Music}

Following the announcement of the release date of the upcoming Immortal Technique album (June 24th), us media types were treated to a few tracks to introduce us to what could be the most anticipated independent album in years. And when I say independent, I'm not talking about a rapper on an underground label. I'm talking about a rapper who sold his CDs on the street and now refuses to sign with a label that could provide more exposure as it might infringe on his message and mission. However, with the announcement that a large amount of production for the album was completed by Jay-Z's DJ Green Lantern, it had yet to be seen if Immortal Technique could stick to his guns amid production that on previous albums had been handled by far more independent names like Southpaw and 44 Caliber.

The press release was accompanied by a quote from "The Payback," "I make rap about lyrics not beats and marketing." And after listening to this track, "The 3rd World," and "Reverse Pimpology," there is no question that regardless of the beat behind him, Immortal Technique will not change his message or the power in his lyrics.

On the first listen, I liked the songs, but was concerned. These didn't sound like Immortal Technique songs I had heard off the first two albums. The beats are more accessible, and even in an unmastered format, are a bit more polished than some of the more basic tracks off the two Revolutionary albums. On previous releases, while there are numerous tracks that grab musically from the first beat ("Caught in the Hustle," "No Me Importa, "Obnoxious," and "Harlem Streets" to name a few), one of the staples of the style is that the beats are more of a backdrop for Tech's lyrics than anything else, and appreciation for them is derived mainly from how he sounds over them.

So when "The Payback" comes on with a vintage hook that could have come out of a Kanye song and laid back horns, the initial auditory reaction is to think the lyrics are going to follow those pop sensible lines. But when he opens in typical Tech fashion, "I want to run for President and the focal point when I'm campaignin'/is to put FEMA to work on plantation at Camp David," it becomes clear that nothing has changed but the background, and even that difference is then altered by Tech's forceful delivery and unmistakable style. By the end of the cut, as much as you could imagine hearing the beat on a radio station, Tech has made it completely his own, and you can't imagine someone rapping about women, money or any of the other surface level topics popular in the genre today. The song is all the stronger for it. To see what I thought about the other two songs and what they mean for the upcoming release, continue the article here.

The B-Day Lebowski

Friday night, after a week of partial planning spearheaded by Jarles, it's time to surprise Da for his birthday by taking him bowling. We're doing it Big Lebowski style, which means a bathrobe and white Russians on the lanes. I've been told that the meet time is 9pm. I think this probably means more like 10, but I decide that I'll trust Jarles on their estimate, even though I consider it to be incredibly off target. Here's some news for you....don't trust Jarles!

I get the news around 7:30, as I'm preparing myself to leave the apartment, that they've just been seated at Sushi Sams. I figure if it takes an hour, they still MIGHT make it by 9pm. I finish getting ready and getting sloshed (try playing Beirut against yourself with Rodka in the cups instead of beer), and head out the door around 8:20 to get the 8:37 train to get to the lanes at 8:47. I figure this will give me time to go to the bathroom, burn one and then be on the lanes before Da shows up. It's when I pull into the Bart station around 8:30 that I'm called and told that they haven't eaten yet and it should be more like 10.

I then feel like I'm doing everything on rewind as I back out of the parking lot, drive home, go back upstairs and continue drinking (hey, I'm not paying for drinks out if I can avoid it!). This time, I decide to give them a little more lag time, and leave the apartment at 9:30 for a 9:47 train that arrives shortly before 10.

The Bart station is only a block from the bowling alley, I get my shoes, get a cup of ice for the can and flask in my pockets and find Da's family and D, who have already been bowling for about an hour. D and I start another game and about 20 minutes later the guest of honor walks in, dressed in his robe, ready to roll. It's white Russians for this guy...



Following two games in which we attempt everything from speed bowling to bowling without putting your fingers into any of the holes (this is D's preferred method), we head up to the city. I ride with D so he can drop his car off. This is a wise decision as, instead of driving up and parking and going into the bar, he and I get a ride with Maurod across town, drinks in hand, smoke out the window. At this point, I'm completely incapable of driving, and I have not yet paid for a single drink. This is a good start.

We decide to meet at City, because even though it's the same old, all the time, it's easy to find, get into and get drinks at. We treat Da to his first Mind Eraser, which, I think you can tell, goes down quite nicely...



What I remember at this point is that I had to ride back to the Game in the trunk of Gavroche's car. I'm also told that I was assaulted by Glace, which doesn't surprise me, and after getting all the way back to my place, realizing that I needed to be taken to my car at the Bart station to get my house keys. Hey, I wasn't going to call the fire department to let me in AGAIN.

Saturday's a good day off, and Sunday ushers in an actual birthday party for Da, complete with Beirut and other games of chance. It turns into a splendid Sunday affair, the only thing noticeably missing was a carrot cake that not so mysteriously never arrived. It was as if it was promised to be there, and didn't show up instead. I can only assume that it met the fate of most young carrots...it got eaten by bunnies. This is exhibit B of what I told you at the beginning.

Something in the air is starting to feel like the Lake.

10 Things to Think About on a Friday

A little strange that I feel like I got back from Iowa two weeks ago, yet it's only been four days. But it's been a long four days. Cinco de Mayo, Skylark, E's birthday, League Championships. I certainly crammed it in from Monday to today. As I get ready to embark on an even larger caseload this week, I present to you 10 things to think about until you hop that turnstile and head for home. Cheers!

1) So if they videotaped defensive AND offensive signals, how much of the Patriots' dynasty is tainted in cheating?
2) How long would you wait in line for a 23 cent pizza from Papa John's?
3) What do you think....is DRM dead?
4) I don't know about you, but I have absolutely no desire to use a human skull as a bong.
5) Ok....raise your hand if you knew that the Federal Government has been supplying medicinal marijuana to some patients for 30 years, while simultaneously trying to shut down states' medicinal marijuana programs.
6) People drinking in order to increase their chances of sex? Never! No way! I don't believe it!
7) Lot of marijuana news today apparently...I love this one...prospective juror in marijuana trial arrested for smoking marijuana outside courthouse.
8) Cheers for another big win for the spectacular and diverse wildlife of California.
9) Start getting excited for the new Immortal Technique album...it's going to be excellent.
10) Is the vet you love riding a segway?

Have a good weekend folks!

Happy Birthday E!

He's big, he's bad, he's the guy you want to get your back if you ever get jumped by a bunch of punks with baseball bats, and he's the guy that will pour back more whiskey than McNulty. And now he's also 32. That's right, the other half of the Brothers Grimm, the man that pushes me towards destiny and laughs hysterically as he contributes to my inebriation celebrates his birthday today. Most didn't think he'd make it this far (or at least that his brain cells would), and my bet is he's got a ways to go, assuming of course that he doesn't piss off the wrong people in Vegas and end up buried in the desert á la Pesci.

On a road that started with tequila shots at a wedding and is current to Jameson shots last night, E is a companion that's pretty good to be around, and so here I wish a happy birthday to Spooky Grimm. Here he is in one of his ancient 31 year old moments. I tried to find a picture where he's not flipping off the camera, but I just don't know that it exists. Anywhere.

"Call 911"

So after coaching my team to victory in League Championships (the first time in 6 years that they've won it), it's not only time to celebrate, but with Hessica leaving for Vegas and E's birthday at the stroke of midnight, it's time to celebrate. Wait, I think I said that already. Let's make it clear...only for a guy as crazy as E would I even consider STARTING my evening, on a Wednesday, at 11 o'clock. But, I figure I'm really only going to say happy bday, so the 12 is the part that matters.

After two games of Beirut (with the second game played with mixed drinks instead of beer, hooray for good ideas!), I shower and await the call from E on where we need to meet him. Typical and unsurprising, he calls and says it's the I. So on a Wednesday, here we are at 11:15 driving up to the I on Broadway. We get there, and E's already ridiculous, handling any shot he's handed. I add to the total by 3, and he responds by offering to pay for me to fly to Vegas over the weekend. I start to consider this as a viable course of action.

And on a simple night, where the only goal was to wish a friend a happy birthday, it's a perfect night for Hessica's assertion that I'm a "weird shit magnet" to be proven. On the way home around 1:30, I'm stopped at a red light at 3rd and King across from the ballpark. Sitting there talking to Hessica, I look in my rearview mirror and see a guy coming up in the lane next to us. He's not really slowing down. I think he probably should, and as he gets closer to the light, he doesn't. I then watch, in what seems like slow motion, as he drives through the red light, across the intersection, up on to the median and straight into a tree.

Looking around, I don't see anyone else that saw this. There's no movement from the car, so it's on me to stop and see what's going on. As I get out and walk up to the car, telling Hessica to call 911, smoke is billowing out as both airbags deployed. The guy looks up at me from a haze of smoke (I almost think the car is hotboxed until I remember the whole airbag thing) and he's laughing. He gets out of the car staggering around and telling me he's fine. I'm like, "uh, dude, you kinda just fucked up your car." His response is a jubilant, "not mine!" He's a white guy with a German accent in flip flops, cargo shorts and a red hooded sweatshirt. He seems to be having fun trying to relate what happened to him, but I'm too sober and he's too German for that conversation to go anywhere.

The car is propped up halfway on the median and halfway in a lane, smoking, with tree branches around it. And of course, as the saying goes, there's never a cop around when you need one. 3rd and King, where you usually can't throw a rock without hitting a cop, is dead silent. Hessica waited on the call, and now I hit up 911, which for the first time in the three times before I've tried to report something, is NOT busy. As they ask me "Emergency, Fire or Police," and I tell them Police, I turn around and the guy is heading up the block. He had already said the car wasn't his, but now he's making good proof of it by leaving it abandoned on the median strip.

After giving the dispatcher his outfit description, I'm told that I can go home and the officers will call me if necessary, which is good, cause I wasn't planning on staying around anyways.

Immortal Technique Announces Album Release Date

{for complete music related posts, see .Evolving.Music}

It's been the talk over here for a few months, but we've finally been treated to actual factual information concerning the upcoming Immortal Technique release The 3rd World. Revolutionary Vol. 2, Tech's 2nd album, has been in circulation for 5 years now without a follow-up, and the buzz for his next album indicated that it would be something along the lines of a mix-tape format with tracks produced by Jay-Z's DJ Green Lantern. Apparently though, fans waiting for something thrown together along the mix-tape lines will have to readjust their expectations in light of what has become a fully fledged concept studio album by the two intent on examining the underground hip-hop scene battling the major studio labels in the analogy of 3rd World countries against the economic powerhouses. I'm also fairly certain that we'll be hearing a continuation of the other political ideals Tech is known for throughout the album.

I say this is a concept of marketing and lyrical attack that MixMatchMusic and us folks over here at Evolving Music can get behind. Long known for his revolutionary ideals and viciously direct lyrics, Immortal Technique has been a symbol of the He has remained fiercely independent in order to protect the integrity of his message from being tampered with by commercial interests.

To read the rest of this article and see the full 3rd World track listing, go here.

P is the Man

On Saturday, the family relaxes, eats a few more Canteen burgers and has an incredible steak dinner at Grandma's place. If you think steak is good out here, go try the Midwest. The cuts are thick, tender and often more flavorful than what we can find out here. After dinner, Sean, P, K and myself decide to head down to the Irish pub where K and I started last night in order to watch the Oscar de la Hoya fight.

Only it's not on. This is disappointing, especially to Sean who seems inordinately frustrated by it, but I'm not concerned. But the trip to the pub sets us up perfectly for a big fish/small pond scenario. In the back room, a party is going on with what looks like a lot of college students. Beautiful women keep floating by our table on the way to the bathroom. This is when P starts in on me.

As I'm looking at one of passing ladies, P tells me that he's never seen me in any sort of action and doesn't believe I have it in me. He tells me that in his day, he'd already be in the back room mixing it up with these kids, and the fact that I'm not willing to walk up cold to one of the party is, in effect, cowardly. I attempt to explain to him the concept that the back room is probably some sort of fraternity party, which would entail that the girls all came with dates. He tells me that this is my reasoning for not talking to any of them. I agree and invite him to have HIS ass kicked by the frat boys if talking to their girlfriends is really all that important to him.

We ask the owner who they are, and P's ears perk up when he says they're a fraternity from Creighton, P's alma mater. The next girl to walk by, a stunning blond wearing glasses, prompts P to get awkwardly loud in telling me to ask her what fraternity they're from. She walks to the bar and he's all over me to go talk to her. I've realized at this point though that single or not, she is with that group, and I'm asking for some sort of repeat of Friday night (see "...And then I got hit) if I go talk to her. I turn away for two seconds, and when I turn back, P is at the bar talking with her.

I do a double take.

Nope, sure enough, there's P talking to a 20 year old coed at the bar. The waitress comes over to our table and asks me, "So he's hitting on younger women now?" I tell her he's married to my Mom, so I'm not very worried about the whole thing. But when I turn around again, this girl is leading him into the back room. He smiles at me and gives me the thumbs up. Now my initial thought is that he's told this girl, "I just want to play a joke, can you walk me back there," or something like that. But as he enters the room, he starts shaking hands with everyone, and they close one of the two doors, blocking him from my view as he starts in with a speech that is greeted periodically by cheers and laughs. I'm a bit slackjawed as P comes out of the room, shit eating grin on his face and bright red from laughing. Turns out, not only did this group go to the same college he went to, but they're in the same fraternity. While they're up to member number 1100 or so, P's number is 47, so he's a living, breathing relic for the house.

After sitting back down, P sends over 4 pitchers of Guiness, which raises several more cheers from the room. When they're done, the group comes to pay their respects, as each guy comes to give P the grip before they leave the restaurant. While this is happening, I notice one of the girls being corralled towards me, presumably to say hello, and she's quite obviously embarrassed and bright red. As they get her near my table, she whisks herself away, and I can only think that she said something to someone about me and they were trying to force the introduction. I don't remember the last time I saw a girl that nervous, so I leave it alone. I contemplate crashing the party at the hotel that one of the guys tells me about, but decide that it's just not a very smart idea. I instead tell them about the after hours at Elbow Room, but know that won't be happening (when have you seen a group of 20 college kids make it to a place at 2 am after drinking all night?), as some of them are underage.

K is tired and wants to go home, but after seeing herself and her cookie induced eyes in the bathroom mirror decides she should stick it out with me a little longer. P, after saying all proper goodbyes, sees the blond in the glasses waiting at a table after everyone has left the bar. He tells me, "now's the perfect chance!" I don't say anything, as I don't want to hear that I'm making excuses, but you can tell just by looking that she's waiting for someone, and that someone HAS to be her boyfriend. There's absolutely no way I'm going to talk to her (not to mention that I'm still kinda thinking about the girl who looked like she wanted to meet me.) Sure enough, two minutes later, out comes the president of the house. I take the opportunity to rub it in his face....."you see, I knew she had a boyfriend, and you're calling me a coward for not going over there to destroy all the goodwill you just built up in the house. There are some things I know." He admits that I'm right on this one before taking Sean home.

After they leave, K and I head over with our friend from the bar to the Salty Frog where a rock band called "hellifIknow" is playing through a set. I have another of those, "only in Iowa" moments. About midway through an intermission, a nasty looking guy of about 70 comes up to K and literally tries to smell her after telling her he's a "FIBS, federal inspector of bullshit." He's creepy and I'm amazed that someone would even try to get that close to a stranger in a bar without being forced to. I immediately take her back to the front of the bar and away from this nut job. She's then subjected to being hit on by the bouncer who asks her, "how much does a polar bear weigh?" The answer is "enough to break the ice, I'm Jason" and I think she's going to die her eyes roll so far back in her head. A bit before 12, she cabs home and I'm left out among the locals with only Chris to keep me company. We head over to Scooter's, but at 2, when it's time to head over to Elbow Room for the after party, he's no where to be seen.

I do some mental math now...stay or go? I'm alone, in the middle of Iowa, with no js, a half pack of Parliament lights and no alcohol at the BYOB club. I bum a beer of someone near by and decide I'll stick it out for a while. I realize that no one here knows me, I don't give a shit what they think, and hit the dance floor, solo, trying to show people that contrary to what I've seen over the past two nights, humans of the male gender actually can dance. Back here in CA, that's not an issue, but out there, I didn't see one guy that did anything other than try to grind, which makes me want to shout at him, "grinding isn't dancing jackass!!!" But I'm not alone for long as I find an excellent dance partner in a local girl named Alyssa who I hang out with for the rest of the evening.

At about 4:30 it's time for my lonely walk home again, but at least tonight it's not drizzling like last night, and half way home I stop at a gas station only to find the same guy that was hitting on K with the polar bear line. He's taken me for his new out of town friend and has the girl he's with give me a ride back home.

And that's the end of the story worthy parts of the Iowa trip. Sunday is spent taking family photos and eating, and K and I head to Harold and Kumar at the local theatre. I attempt to get her to rally for a drink or two on Main Street to say proper goodbye to the Salty Frog, but she's just not having it. When I get home on Monday, I'm happy to head immediately to a Cinco de Mayo party at Xena's place before hitting up the Skylark. And it's good to be home.

Pictures: Elbow Room in Ottumwa, K and I with the pub owner Tim, P and the brothers, our Pub group, hellifIknow, Alyssa (bottom center) at the Elbow Room, T and Margaret, Margaret and I, Bini and I at the Cinco de Mayo.

...And then I got hit

Day 1 in Iowa starts with me sleeping until about 12 and waking up in time for a Canteen. Now for anyone that hasn’t had the pleasure of visiting Ottumwa, Iowa, they’re known for very few things, one of which includes the Canteen in the alley. Located under a parking structure that they built around it, Canteen is about 15 by 25 feet with a horseshoe counter. In the middle of the horseshoe is a big stainless steel meat trough where they cut up and grill ground beef. Sporadically, someone yells, “Grease out!” and a woman, who looks like either a high school lunch lady or a troll from under a bridge, comes out from the back and brings a ladle to the trough. She scoops the grease out into a bowl, yells, “hot grease!” and then takes it to the back before they put more ground beef into the trough. I can only imagine how fast this food place would empty out in California the minute people saw this type of thing. I eat three.

After lunch it’s nap time, and when I wake up it’s dinner time at the KC. Also a Midwest tradition, the KC Fish Fry (Knights of Columbus) is a Friday night deal where the drinks are 2.50 a piece and you can order steak or catfish. Truly fun for the whole family. After the KC, Mom and K go to see Forgetting Sarah Marshall while Sean and I see Iron Man, which is sick. I won’t give any of the movie away other than to say that you should stay until the end of the credits.

After the movie, Mom and P drop us off at the local bar so we can start our evening. I’ve decided that on a Friday night in Iowa, there isn’t much to do but go hard, and I have to commence said hard going by introducing the bartender and the rest of the bar to Rodkas. I swear they don’t know this drink in Iowa. He asks…”red bull, AND vodka?:” But by the end of the evening, people are drinking them.

About midway through, I decide I should head down the street to the ATM for some cash, should we need it for cab rides or drinks. Now, it’s important to note here…my Mom asked me specifically not to bring any pot on the plane. I obliged, kinda. I didn’t bring anything smokable, but I do bring a few edibles for K and I to consume. But she can’t drink and eat, so we stow the cookie. For those out there that know how I get under the influence of alcohol, you know that this is about the time that I want to smoke.

As I’m walking back from the ATM, I see a group of about five guys and two girls in the parking lot next to the Canteen. I can smell the bud from the street. I walk up to them slowly, and ask in my most pleasant voice, “hey, you know anywhere I can score some pot?” They tell me no, so I turn away and start walking. One of them tells me to hold up, so thinking they had a change of heart, I turn back. He’s walking up to me, and asks me where I’m from. No sooner can I get “California” out of my mouth before he hits me.

Yes, he hits me. Right in the jaw.

Now, I’m faded, I’m in the middle of Iowa, and all I asked for was if they knew where to buy. So after he nails me square in the jaw, it takes me two seconds to realize, “wait, I just got hit.” What’s weird is I don’t feel it, or even truly take stock in it, before I realize, “wait, he’s going to hit me again.”

Most people know me as a non-confrontational person. If they didn’t, this story wouldn’t sound likely and I would be invariably asked, “What did you really say to the guy to make him hit you?” But people do know me and realize that this is exactly what happened. I got socked in the jaw for saying I was from California. As I’m acknowledging the fact that he’s gearing up to hit me again, I decide that it’s time to run. I turn around and bolt out of the parking garage. It only takes me five seconds to realize that this dumbass isn’t going to be able to keep up with me, and we come into the street with him yelling, “that’s right you stupid bitch, run, what the fuck n----a?” Yes, a white trash guy that should have been cast in Gummo is chasing me down the street calling me the N word. As I’m getting ready to turn the corner, I hear, “Who you callin’ a N---a?” I turn around to see a black guy down the street that has taken none too kindly to this white boy chasing me and calling me something he has no right to say, and I certainly am not.

I yell, “ya, beat that white boy’s ass!” before turning the corner and heading back into the bar. Once inside, the story is revered as gold, and K tells me that if anyone else told her this story, she wouldn’t believe it. We finish our drinks and decide it’s time to move locations, so we head from the Irish pub to the “Salty Frog” where people are playing flip cup and listening to 2Pac and Michael Jackson songs. This is really Iowa.

We leave the Salty Frog and head across the street to Scooter’s. Now, before all of us were of age, we went to Scooter’s, and it’s one of the shadiest bar scenes you can imagine. When K and Em (in her younger, non-Mormon days) went there with fake IDs, they ended up leaving and driving around the lower portion of Iowa with a 30 year old bartender. They arrived home way past curfew and are two of the only examples I know of kids getting grounded for something they did on vacation.

The place is small and consistently filled with cigarette smoke. The dj is constantly trying to encourage nudity, despite the fact that the dancefloor and atmosphere provide the least amount of reason for any sort of nudity. Here, we see a great scene, captured below, of a groom to be taking a blow job shot from some random chick.

At around 1:30, K decides it’s time to go home and calls a cab. It arrives, takes us back to the old folks home, but it’s too early for me yet and I was told about an after hours place that I felt I needed to try given the circumstances. It’s called the Elbow Room, and, right next to Scooter’s, provides the perfect opportunity for people to file out and head right next door. Except there’s one thing that makes this place different from most places I’ve had the chance to see……it’s BYOB. Now, BYOB is cool, and after hours is cool, but an after hours place that allows you to bring your own booze?! Priceless. The dj is spinning and the entire experience, continuing to drink past two while dancing to music, is unprecedented other than in Vegas. They have a backlit curtain for people dancing upstairs, and the entire crowd is pretty rowdy because it’s Ottumwa, they have nothing to do, and it’s after hours.

When I decide to leave around 3 am, I’m toast and the walk home, while about 3-4 miles and close to an hour, seems short with the ipod and a few phone conversations about me getting sucker punched (thanks Chaz and Glass!). Photos: Canteen, canteen burger (only 3 bucks for that baby!), Grease Out!, the meat trough, the Canteen counter, me with my new nephew Brennan, the bar at the Salty Frog, Scooter's, the scene at the Elbow Room afterparty, and the "sheet dancing" they had there.

The Road to Iowa

My trip starts at 6:30 on Thursday morning. After K and I kill a j and eat a baked good each, we’re ready to deal with the flight and our parents. We get to the airport, where despite the fact that I don’t trip the metal detector, they insist on patting me down because I didn’t take off the sweatshirt I was wearing. TSA doesn’t even trust their own metal detectors now…

As we’re getting on the plane, we’re talking about the food at the lake house and how it costs a lot per day to feed the people that come there. Kelsey relates this to “shooting fish in a barrel.” I ask her how it’s like shooting fish in a barrel and she has no answer. I tell her it is nothing like shooting fish in a barrel and we both start cracking up. P and Mom assume this is because we’re tired and delirious, not high. Mom is also in the process of trying to introduce me to her personal shopper at one of the Nordstrom’s stores. She tells me, “I have her name, maybe you can MyFace her.” Trust me, this blending of MySpace and Facebook is not something we’ve allowed her to forget yet.

We arrive in Denver, have a short layover, and get on the plane for Des Moines. The plan is to wait in Des Moines for two hours until Em and Sean get there with their new baby (my nephew Brennan), and then drive the hour and a half to Ottumwa where we’re staying. But nothing goes as planned, right? We get a call when we land from Em saying that while the flight they’re on hasn’t left the gate yet, it has closed the doors and won’t let them on. This means that they won’t arrive in Des Moines until at least 11. This is not so good news.

But it gives us a chance to take in the local flavor. We meet up with our cousins and their kids, go out to dinner at a nice restaurant and have a pear vodka martini. What’s a bit freaky about this restaurant is it’s very nice, in the middle of Iowa, and yet for some reason, the majority of the items on the menu are seafood. Let me say that again…we’re in the middle of Iowa and the majority of the menu is seafood. I decide not to risk it and eat a steak. After dinner, we head out and enjoy the culture by heading to the Des Moines softball field. It makes me feel like all they do in Iowa is play softball as there’s at least six games going on. This, at multiple times, almost leads to hazardous death as foul balls from the high school girls’ games frequently pepper not only the stands of people focused on other games, but the elementary school girls’ games as well.

Em, Sean and Bren arrive, we start on the road, and get to our destination about 1 am. Welcome to Iowa.

This is Iowa

I’m writing this introduction on the way to the airport to come home, working on coming up with stories and analogies that might adequately explain Iowa, and in particular, Ottumwa, Iowa, to someone who has never been there. Let’s start with the state….small, low population, incredibly rural, and home to one “city,” the capital and airport hub, Des Moines.

What used to be a 2 hour drive from the airport to Ottumwa has been shortened by a few major freeway construction projects over the past several years. And that two hour drive is a flat shot through farmland that never seems to end. Once you reach Ottumwa, you’re in a town that is small and remote like Half Moon Bay, but it’s in Iowa, which means that the migration to and from the city is a slow drip at best, and the majority of the residents were born and raised there.

Main Street and the downtown center have changed a lot since our trips here in the summers. At that point, one out of maybe every 4 or 5 stores on Main was shuttered or closed. It still had numerous restaurants, a great bookstore, a movie theatre and other shops. Over the years, the building of a Wal-Mart and other major chains has slowly strangled the downtown area. As you drive down it now, only a handful of shops remain, most of which are closed everyday. The movie theatre is boarded up, replaced by a brand new cinema on the other side of the freeway, and the only real time we saw any sort of traffic on Main was in the evenings as it plays host to the Salty Frog (a bar featuring live bands and flip cup tables), Scooter’s (the night club of the town), Elbow Room (the after hours spot, but I’ll get to that later), and Chills ‘n Thrills (the local strip club which the townies refer to as “Hogs ‘n Dogs). Truthfully, the residential neighborhoods, in places, feel a bit like Xenia, Ohio in Gummo.

What you notice walking around are the extreme similarities that the majority of the Ottumwa population has to stereotypes of the Midwest. The people are, for the most part, obese, poorly maintained on a basic hygienic level and uneducated on a higher level. Of course, the white trash meth crowd is also big out here. Most have never left the town, or are in some state of transit between here and another small Midwest town. Fittingly, the lawyers, doctors and others here were, for the most part, born and raised before returning after their formal training. The idea and feeling of simplicity in living is striking, and the pace of life can only be described as “watching the corn grow.” And while I don’t think of myself as sticking out in a crowd, or wearing a t-shirt and jeans as anything unusual, for some reason we are easily branded as “not from around here,” before we even open our mouths. Over the past 10 years, there has also been a major influx of migrant workers attracted to the cheap cost of living and abundance of agricultural work.

What never fails about the trips to Ottumwa is that they are always dotted with the same predictable moments, and at the same time consistently full of absolute randomness that couldn’t happen anywhere else. For the parts that stand out as outlandish and ridiculous, I can only tell you that they’re all true, and relate here the one sentence that our family has used for 16 years of traveling here to explain even the inexplicable…”This is Iowa.” The picture above is Main Street Ottumwa on a Saturday night. You can't see the bar revelers, but you get an idea of the traffic. Welcome to our trip.

Movies of April (8)

All in all, another slow month. But who's complaining?! With a housewarming and black tie event (thanks Glass!), a karaoke birthday (nice time Bini!) and numerous baseball games, I'm sure the movies of the world will understand. Here's April's films...

2: 3:10 to Yuma
6: We Own the Night
11: Top Gun
16: The Man Who Wasn't There
17: No Country for Old Men
19: Juno
20: Waiting for Guffman, Bender's Big Score