Mount Diablo State Park
The Off Duty Artist, Danny Golden (formerly Dan Bummer) and I went on a busted kneecap level hike in Mount Diablo State Park last weekend.
posted by Michelle at 5:48 PM
3 comments
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Missed The Bus
Missed them. My favorite band (of freaks). Missed the above in-store performance and missed the insanity on the bus.
I noticed in July that I had stopped receiving the Aquarius New Arrivals lists, but delayed contacting the store. And, of course, I paid dearly and missed the announcement about Circle's return to the U.S. last month.
The lesson is: Check that the old, old, email addresses affiliated with expired situations are not attached to important distribution lists because when that plug is finally pulled you may not be one of the advised.
The band last flew in from Finland in September of 2005 (and played the year's best show at Great American Music Hall) so I should be able to catch them again in 2009 if their U.S. tour pattern holds.
Another must-see in-store piece
The in-bus performance
posted by Michelle at 8:45 PM
1 comments
Thursday, October 11, 2007
European Garden Spider Spotted Hanging Around Outside U.S. Office
I became acquainted with Araneus diadematus during my Santa Cruz residency, having found the first of the species mounted in the center of a spiral web in a sunny corner of my backyard. I was struck by her size and beauty and surprised at her bold display of herself and her daily customs in such a bright, vulnerable, open air space, not unlike that of my new Berkeley friend above.I watched her kill, wrap and ingest the liquid contents of her prey many times, admittedly tossing a few of my most destructive garden pests into her sticky, strong as steel lair. (For awhile I flung those really tiny brown moths into her web, but they would often disintegrate into dust in the clasp of my hands, which seemed a gratuitous sport, so I eventually stopped). Sensing the vibration of a newly ensnared insect she'd race across a few choice silk threads to its side and within moments its fluttering would cease.
I looked for her mornings, afternoons and evenings when leaving the house and returning, although she was often out of sight during the earliest hours. Fall storms damaged her web and I might miss her for a day and then she'd be back, making repairs or building a new web.
And, then, one day she wouldn't. And this day was always met with a tiny heartbreak. Two tiny heartbreaks. One for the zero sign of her and one for the sure sign that winter had arrived.
Her identifying "cross" sometimes appears like a dagger, especially when she's suspended above your curious face.
posted by Michelle at 11:22 PM
2 comments
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Why Is Everything Before Me Bathed In a Red Light?
I just spent ten minutes trying to remove the contact lenses I'd already removed from my eyes. It's a wonder I can see the keyboard to type at all.
Should I reevaluate the current time slots of the evening rituals which effectively end my day? Or am I just exhibiting the first warning sign of impending Alzheimer's?
I've been remiss here, lately, but am writing fairly regularly over here.
Should I reevaluate the current time slots of the evening rituals which effectively end my day? Or am I just exhibiting the first warning sign of impending Alzheimer's?
I've been remiss here, lately, but am writing fairly regularly over here.
Labels: Ask me how, at home
posted by Michelle at 1:04 AM
5 comments
Monday, June 25, 2007
Summer Pie Fan
Make that two fans.In Sacramento on Saturday, with thirty minutes to go before the scheduled delivery of a friend's new, replacement washing machine, by a gentleman with some exciting tattoos and a knack for leaving behind tools, we briskly walked the several blocks to the new pie shop. We returned with the above pie whose exact half, which rode back home to Oakland with me (along with a pound of Christine and Gereth's garden-grown, tri-color cherry tomatoes), was two pieces further reduced today, leaving one last piece for tomorrow morning, unless I can stave off my newfound pie affection and eat whole grain cereal with dried fruit, nuts and almond milk for breakfast and save the last piece for evening desert. (Go ahead, place your bets. Hell, I'll bet too. I bet you two cherry tomatoes I eat the pie for breakfast.)
~~~
The Real Pie Company Yelp review, which includes a mention of dogs and South America:I used to be a cake girl. The Real Pie Company affirmed something: now I choose pie. Three times out of five. Make that four times out of five in the summer time. Sacramento summer time, not bay area summer time which doesn't really exist.
Were this my neighborhood pie shop the ratio of pie to cake slices eaten would increase even further. And if Crixa Cakes were not in my neighboring city I might stray from the cake for good. (With exception of the tres leches cake from Delessio and, of course, any serious chocolate cake topped with a layer of ganache.)
The owner of Real Pie greeted us upon entry and immediately offered up samples of the Upside Down cake which was made with a summer fruit I admittedly can't recall. I was already gazing at the pies in the case -- lattice-top, galette, pot pie. Most of them contained fruit although there was a fantastic looking chocolate walnut which caught my eye.
My hope was to try both a savory and a sweet pie but the vegetarian quiche had sold out and only the chicken pot pie was left.
We decided on the nectarine blackberry lattice pie and the owner, impressed with our process of selection -- dismissing rhubarb because Christine doesn't like (a spin-off conversation about rhubarb and celery ensued); mango because Michelle doesn't love (a spin-off conversation about mango and South America ensued); apple because it's not in season; chocolate walnut because it's too heavy for a summer afternoon and, finally, dismissing none of them since poor G. is vegan, graciously threw in a small (two-serving) orange meringue pie studded with dark chocolate bits -- this one from the separate refrigerated case. I'm not a meringue fan. Or I wasn't. Now it seems I might be.
(Pie, by the way, is a social food. It gets people, strangers, talking, like dogs get strangers talking at the dog park. I figured that out here, at The Real Pie Company, not at the dog park because I have a cat, not a dog. I also eat cake but I don't discuss cake with strangers. Whereas I -- all of us -- apparently have an innate ability to talk about pie. Curious, isn't it?)
We chose well with the nectarine blackberry pie. Nectarine is my favorite fruit of any season, and it's perfectly showcased here; the expertly-picked fruit bursting with ripe, true flavor in a top notch flakey, butter-made crust.
Here's another thing I loved. We asked the owner where they buy their fruit and he kindly indicated a sign mounted on the wall which lists and thanks all of the growers who supply them with every gorgeous, seasonal fruit used in their pies. In a region like Sacramento where so much good food is grown, this should be a standard practice among area businesses, not a rare one.
All future visits to Sacramento now require a stop here for pie!
~~~
* That's Christine's Bitey in the photo, not my Champ.
Labels: Food and the eatin' of it, friends, outta town
posted by Michelle at 12:23 AM
3 comments
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Away From Her Blog (and the loss of a dog)
I didn't much like Year of the Dog. Couldn't swallow Peggy's immediate descent into unethical and criminal behavior and I wonder if any research was done at all on animal shelter regulations and policies. Of course, if there had been any research we wouldn't have been able to enjoy the "comic relief" of 14 dogs ransacking a home.
The friend I saw the film with pointed out how all of the characters were angled and shot in such a way as to amplify our feelings of superiority over them, which is a trick that disappoints me, although I did think Peter Sarsgaard's character managed to deflect whatever mockery was intended for him, if only because he's amazing that way. (And, in this way, Catherine Keener might have succeeded where Molly Shannon did not). But then there was that final scene on the bus, styled and shot with so much new empathy and suddenly we're supposed to renounce those feelings of superiority and fork over some justification for the choices Peggy made? Too late, for one thing, if you could even say Peggy made that last choice on account of her questionable sanity. And, some alternative love it is she found when every other love illustrated in the film was failed at, miserably, not just by Peggy but every character on the screen.
Again, doesn't seem she had a choice in this director's hands. Too bad.
Poor lil' Pencil was a cool dog, though. Looks a lot like the handsome mini Cooper I dogsit time to time. Coopie would probably die the same way as Pencil if he got out of the house because those Beagles don't stop eating. Not even at tubes of Jurlique rose hand cream and miniature Amaretto-filled glass bottles. (There'd be a link in that last sentence, along with a tale about how Brigitte returned from Australia, to her tended home and housesat animals, bearing a tube of Jurlique rose hand cream -- to replace the one that Cooper ate -- as if she'd guessed as much*) but I never managed to elevate that drafted February post to published status.) * Was actually a gift for me, and I offered to just hand it over to her but she wouldn't have it. I think Jurlique is my next Yelp review. Too bad the stuff is so boutique in the States. It's more "down on the farm" in Australia. Good stuff, and not everything is lavender scented.
I watched Not a Photograph -- a documentary about Mission of Burma, released on dvd last November. I watched it twice, not because it was an exceptional documentary but because I love this band to bits and have, steadily, for as long as I've owned those two early records. Always fresh, their music is. It's kind of unreal. There's so much joy (and some great old stage/performance footage to boot) packed into this little film and I still find it rather incredible that this band is back. In the studio and on tour. Glad for songs like Fame and Fortune, Mica, That's When I Reach for My Revolver and Einstein's Day and the outpouring of great new material on their post 2002 reunion albums OnOffOn and The Obliterati.
There's a scene in Death Proof where Abernathy is in the back seat of the speeding Dodge Challenger, and as she watches Zoe self-strapped to the hood of the car -- t-shirt riding up in the wind, etc. -- we watch the terror on her face transform into something else. Exhilaration. That's what it felt like hearing Mission of Burma for the first time and that's what it feels like now, still, today. And if that's me in the back of the car, that's Mission of Burma on the hood of the car. Taking dares and chances.
If I review a third film (Away from Her) here, I'd feel guilty for copying Dan Bummer's format. Well, I recommend it, and not just because I need your help discerning whether or not Fiona and Aubrey "did it".
Why haven't I seen that Canadian actor, Gordon Pinsent, before this film?
The friend I saw the film with pointed out how all of the characters were angled and shot in such a way as to amplify our feelings of superiority over them, which is a trick that disappoints me, although I did think Peter Sarsgaard's character managed to deflect whatever mockery was intended for him, if only because he's amazing that way. (And, in this way, Catherine Keener might have succeeded where Molly Shannon did not). But then there was that final scene on the bus, styled and shot with so much new empathy and suddenly we're supposed to renounce those feelings of superiority and fork over some justification for the choices Peggy made? Too late, for one thing, if you could even say Peggy made that last choice on account of her questionable sanity. And, some alternative love it is she found when every other love illustrated in the film was failed at, miserably, not just by Peggy but every character on the screen.
Again, doesn't seem she had a choice in this director's hands. Too bad.
Poor lil' Pencil was a cool dog, though. Looks a lot like the handsome mini Cooper I dogsit time to time. Coopie would probably die the same way as Pencil if he got out of the house because those Beagles don't stop eating. Not even at tubes of Jurlique rose hand cream and miniature Amaretto-filled glass bottles. (There'd be a link in that last sentence, along with a tale about how Brigitte returned from Australia, to her tended home and housesat animals, bearing a tube of Jurlique rose hand cream -- to replace the one that Cooper ate -- as if she'd guessed as much*) but I never managed to elevate that drafted February post to published status.) * Was actually a gift for me, and I offered to just hand it over to her but she wouldn't have it. I think Jurlique is my next Yelp review. Too bad the stuff is so boutique in the States. It's more "down on the farm" in Australia. Good stuff, and not everything is lavender scented.
I watched Not a Photograph -- a documentary about Mission of Burma, released on dvd last November. I watched it twice, not because it was an exceptional documentary but because I love this band to bits and have, steadily, for as long as I've owned those two early records. Always fresh, their music is. It's kind of unreal. There's so much joy (and some great old stage/performance footage to boot) packed into this little film and I still find it rather incredible that this band is back. In the studio and on tour. Glad for songs like Fame and Fortune, Mica, That's When I Reach for My Revolver and Einstein's Day and the outpouring of great new material on their post 2002 reunion albums OnOffOn and The Obliterati.
There's a scene in Death Proof where Abernathy is in the back seat of the speeding Dodge Challenger, and as she watches Zoe self-strapped to the hood of the car -- t-shirt riding up in the wind, etc. -- we watch the terror on her face transform into something else. Exhilaration. That's what it felt like hearing Mission of Burma for the first time and that's what it feels like now, still, today. And if that's me in the back of the car, that's Mission of Burma on the hood of the car. Taking dares and chances.
If I review a third film (Away from Her) here, I'd feel guilty for copying Dan Bummer's format. Well, I recommend it, and not just because I need your help discerning whether or not Fiona and Aubrey "did it".
Why haven't I seen that Canadian actor, Gordon Pinsent, before this film?
Labels: documentary, film, music
posted by Michelle at 10:29 PM
3 comments
Sunday, May 06, 2007
No Apostrophe For Illegals
Here's a house we passed very near the entrance to the Pinnacles. On the opposite fence was a "For Sale" sign and, below that, a "Price Reduced." Hmmmm....
I was thinking of getting a few punctuation fans together for a protest next weekend. We would gather across the street from the house, brandishing our own homemade signs, chanting "No Apostrophe for Illegals".
Broken Duck has posted a short video of our hike, with its awesome score! (Don't watch it without the audio.) The first flying birds are Turkey Vultures. You'll see the solo, steady-flying Condor a bit later on -- the wing tags are an immediate identifier.
I was thinking of getting a few punctuation fans together for a protest next weekend. We would gather across the street from the house, brandishing our own homemade signs, chanting "No Apostrophe for Illegals".Broken Duck has posted a short video of our hike, with its awesome score! (Don't watch it without the audio.) The first flying birds are Turkey Vultures. You'll see the solo, steady-flying Condor a bit later on -- the wing tags are an immediate identifier.
posted by Michelle at 12:11 PM
6 comments
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Broken Duck and Queen Condor Visit The Pinnacles
The Broken Duck and I visited the Pinnacles on Sunday. Was the Duck's first visit, and my second, to this National Monument.
In terms of how the land was set aside (hats off to Teddy Roosevelt) and the amount of funding it receives, it is a monument. But it feels more natural to call the Pinnacles a park because it covers so much more physical territory than, say, George Washington's birthplace. There are over thirty miles of trails that lead through canyons and sage-covered hillsides to caves, spires and expansive views from the high peaks.
Early on we searched the sky for that largest of North American land birds: the California Condor. The NPS in collaboration with the non-profit Ventana Wildlife Society initiated The Condor Recovery Program at Pinnacles in late 2003. For the casual visitor there are lots of signs of Condor life in and about the Monument now -- most of it contained within the purchasing boundaries of the Bear Gulch visitor station, although a new section of trail, leading to Condor Overlook, is named for this New World Vulture.
No, it's a Turkey Vulture.
Look! Condor! (1/4 down and left of center)
No, Turkey Vulture.
Hey...
No.
Pinnacle Pete throws up his hands, ready to quit the Condor quest.
A Western Tiger Swallowtail (or Anise Swallowtail?) gets in the way.
More thistle appears in the rocky areas of the High Peaks.
In living, lichen, color
Gripping nature firmly by the neck.
It was mighty windy up there.
This is Mimulus, or Sticky Monkeyflower. It's a common flowering shrub along the trail.
A Condor!
We knew it when we saw it. Even though all Condors in the Pinnacle program are juveniles, this bird was still bigger and had a steadier flight than the wobbly Vultures we intially mistook for Condors. And we were close enough to see the mottled white-ish stripe across the front edge of the wings, which distinguishes it from the similar-at-a-glance Turkey Vulture. This NPS page provides other distinguishing features of the two birds.
Pinnacle Pete shot some great video of the Condor -- airborne and in this tree, where it came to perch. (See the dark mass on the big limb, 3/4 down and right of center.) We were quite a distance away but could still see it twisting its head about and fidgeting a bit. We waited for a good while, hoping we might get to watch it take off into flight but early evening was approaching and we were running out of water and getting very hungry because we stupidly did not bring along any snacks. Pinnacle Pete/Broken Duck will be posting video of this trip, soon. Keep watch over there.
Pinnacle Pete gets in one more false Condor I.D. for the day!
There's a blue shirt in there somewhere.
Thirty seconds after I snapped this photo I heard a scramble on the other side of the little canyon, followed by a call of "Oh Shit!" from Pete.
"What was that?"
"I'm not sure...some animal". Then me, louder and more concerned, "Was it a mountain lion?" Since Pete replied at all it probably wasn't. Also, the gray fox, it turns out, ran across the trail once more and fled up into the brush. I was too far away to catch a glimpse of him.
p.s. At my doctor's urging I recently had a carrot implanted in my neck.
I already miss the place. If I have to write the following down on paper and post it in my apartment somewhere, or maybe on the dashboard of my car, so I can remember something as valuable and important to my mental health as this, I will:
It is easier to live in the city if you leave it. Regularly.
In terms of how the land was set aside (hats off to Teddy Roosevelt) and the amount of funding it receives, it is a monument. But it feels more natural to call the Pinnacles a park because it covers so much more physical territory than, say, George Washington's birthplace. There are over thirty miles of trails that lead through canyons and sage-covered hillsides to caves, spires and expansive views from the high peaks.
Early on we searched the sky for that largest of North American land birds: the California Condor. The NPS in collaboration with the non-profit Ventana Wildlife Society initiated The Condor Recovery Program at Pinnacles in late 2003. For the casual visitor there are lots of signs of Condor life in and about the Monument now -- most of it contained within the purchasing boundaries of the Bear Gulch visitor station, although a new section of trail, leading to Condor Overlook, is named for this New World Vulture.Look! It's a Condor!
No, it's a Turkey Vulture.Look! Condor! (1/4 down and left of center)
No, Turkey Vulture.Hey...
No.
Pinnacle Pete throws up his hands, ready to quit the Condor quest.
We drift off the trail to deal individually with our disappointment. Pete cried under a Blue Oak while I found this lone Venus Thistle among the rocks.
A Western Tiger Swallowtail (or Anise Swallowtail?) gets in the way.
More thistle appears in the rocky areas of the High Peaks.
In living, lichen, color
Gripping nature firmly by the neck.
It was mighty windy up there.
This is Mimulus, or Sticky Monkeyflower. It's a common flowering shrub along the trail.
A Condor!We knew it when we saw it. Even though all Condors in the Pinnacle program are juveniles, this bird was still bigger and had a steadier flight than the wobbly Vultures we intially mistook for Condors. And we were close enough to see the mottled white-ish stripe across the front edge of the wings, which distinguishes it from the similar-at-a-glance Turkey Vulture. This NPS page provides other distinguishing features of the two birds.
Pinnacle Pete shot some great video of the Condor -- airborne and in this tree, where it came to perch. (See the dark mass on the big limb, 3/4 down and right of center.) We were quite a distance away but could still see it twisting its head about and fidgeting a bit. We waited for a good while, hoping we might get to watch it take off into flight but early evening was approaching and we were running out of water and getting very hungry because we stupidly did not bring along any snacks. Pinnacle Pete/Broken Duck will be posting video of this trip, soon. Keep watch over there.
Pinnacle Pete gets in one more false Condor I.D. for the day!
There's a blue shirt in there somewhere.
Thirty seconds after I snapped this photo I heard a scramble on the other side of the little canyon, followed by a call of "Oh Shit!" from Pete. "What was that?"
"I'm not sure...some animal". Then me, louder and more concerned, "Was it a mountain lion?" Since Pete replied at all it probably wasn't. Also, the gray fox, it turns out, ran across the trail once more and fled up into the brush. I was too far away to catch a glimpse of him.
p.s. At my doctor's urging I recently had a carrot implanted in my neck.
I already miss the place. If I have to write the following down on paper and post it in my apartment somewhere, or maybe on the dashboard of my car, so I can remember something as valuable and important to my mental health as this, I will:
It is easier to live in the city if you leave it. Regularly.
posted by Michelle at 1:09 PM
Sunday, March 25, 2007
The Memory Transit Authority
Influenced by the recently defined and self-diagnosed MTS, and inspired by Dan Bummer's wildly entertaining and informative Metal Memory of the Month series, I've decided to host a selection of music video postings in my own little corner of the internet.
I'll let Dan keep his pedal to the metal and will focus instead on 70s songs of every other genre that scored high on my musical memory retention chart. (This chart is the computer-tabulated result of a new exercise that my MTS counselor developed and shared with me during last week's session). I'll spend less time on biography and song/album criticism, seeking instead to excavate the memory that is linked to the featured song. A few of these memories will be bound by tragic (at the time, and probably only to me) events. Still others will hardly qualify as memories at all.
It seems appropriate to launch this series with my first musical memory: Chicago in the Rockies (as the video is titled), or, apropos to my 1972-1974 digs, Chicago in Kirkland, Washington.
Because this first musical memory falls into the hardly qualifies as a memory category, I'm ignoring my above explanation of intent and diving straight into what made this band so great and why the songs were so memorable to my two-three year old ears.
If you're familiar only with the post Terry Kath Chicago of the 80s, as led by Peter Cetera and defined by those godawful soft rock ballads (You're the Inspiration, Glory of Love), please, without delay, do go pick yourself up a copy of the self-titled 1969 debut of the then-called Chicago Transit Authority -- shortened to Chicago when the Chicago transit authority (the one on wheels on tracks) threatened a lawsuit. This first album and the band's subsequent two albums -- Chicago and Chicago III (all three of them double lps!) deserve a prime spot in your record collection. And while V, VI and VII might not be essential records, all three contain some essential songs, and VII boasts the closest thing to a great song written by Cetera -- the weirdly trippy and melancholic "Wishing You Were Here". The song worked only because it was sung not by Cetera but by Terry Kath with his low, gruff, rumble which was met by the smooth satin backup vocals of those Beach Boys. Exquisite!
The twelve songs on Chicago's first album are long, complexly arranged and bursting with unexpected shifts which occur both between and within the tracks. Mixed tempos, guitar freakouts, jazzy keyboard intros flanked by roving lyrics and horn crescendos, all brought back downtown to the best full on soul-drenched guitar you've never heard. Lyrics spoken, chanted and sung. By Kath's thick grumble and Robert Lamm's restrained optimism. And Cetera's high (and eventually very grating) whinny occasionally shining through. Cetera contributes the best lead vocals of his career on Questions 67 and 68. The oddly enunciated stocato back-up vocals on this track sound especially cool. But watch Kath shine here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GzViV6PUOSM to understand why Jimi Hendrix was such a fan.
The band was movement. Songs composed by Kath were sung by Robert Lamm and songs composed by Pankow were sung by Kath and songs composed by Lamm were sung by Cetera, Kath. This could be felt even if not understood back when I was hanging with the Weebles on the living room floor. The name the band gave themselves early on was a good fit.
My memories of this time move too. They are mostly sensory memories: Stepping into the bright snow that fell overnight in our backyard; the sight of the nearby public swimming pool and the way the big square patch felt on the knee of my best jeans for playing in the dirt. When I think of Kirkland I think of Chicago and when I think of Chicago I think of Kirkland, always.
I'm sure it was a Saturday.
I'll let Dan keep his pedal to the metal and will focus instead on 70s songs of every other genre that scored high on my musical memory retention chart. (This chart is the computer-tabulated result of a new exercise that my MTS counselor developed and shared with me during last week's session). I'll spend less time on biography and song/album criticism, seeking instead to excavate the memory that is linked to the featured song. A few of these memories will be bound by tragic (at the time, and probably only to me) events. Still others will hardly qualify as memories at all.
It seems appropriate to launch this series with my first musical memory: Chicago in the Rockies (as the video is titled), or, apropos to my 1972-1974 digs, Chicago in Kirkland, Washington.
Because this first musical memory falls into the hardly qualifies as a memory category, I'm ignoring my above explanation of intent and diving straight into what made this band so great and why the songs were so memorable to my two-three year old ears.
If you're familiar only with the post Terry Kath Chicago of the 80s, as led by Peter Cetera and defined by those godawful soft rock ballads (You're the Inspiration, Glory of Love), please, without delay, do go pick yourself up a copy of the self-titled 1969 debut of the then-called Chicago Transit Authority -- shortened to Chicago when the Chicago transit authority (the one on wheels on tracks) threatened a lawsuit. This first album and the band's subsequent two albums -- Chicago and Chicago III (all three of them double lps!) deserve a prime spot in your record collection. And while V, VI and VII might not be essential records, all three contain some essential songs, and VII boasts the closest thing to a great song written by Cetera -- the weirdly trippy and melancholic "Wishing You Were Here". The song worked only because it was sung not by Cetera but by Terry Kath with his low, gruff, rumble which was met by the smooth satin backup vocals of those Beach Boys. Exquisite!
The twelve songs on Chicago's first album are long, complexly arranged and bursting with unexpected shifts which occur both between and within the tracks. Mixed tempos, guitar freakouts, jazzy keyboard intros flanked by roving lyrics and horn crescendos, all brought back downtown to the best full on soul-drenched guitar you've never heard. Lyrics spoken, chanted and sung. By Kath's thick grumble and Robert Lamm's restrained optimism. And Cetera's high (and eventually very grating) whinny occasionally shining through. Cetera contributes the best lead vocals of his career on Questions 67 and 68. The oddly enunciated stocato back-up vocals on this track sound especially cool. But watch Kath shine here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GzViV6PUOSM to understand why Jimi Hendrix was such a fan.
The band was movement. Songs composed by Kath were sung by Robert Lamm and songs composed by Pankow were sung by Kath and songs composed by Lamm were sung by Cetera, Kath. This could be felt even if not understood back when I was hanging with the Weebles on the living room floor. The name the band gave themselves early on was a good fit.
My memories of this time move too. They are mostly sensory memories: Stepping into the bright snow that fell overnight in our backyard; the sight of the nearby public swimming pool and the way the big square patch felt on the knee of my best jeans for playing in the dirt. When I think of Kirkland I think of Chicago and when I think of Chicago I think of Kirkland, always.
I'm sure it was a Saturday.Labels: I remember when, music, Musical Memory Retention, video
posted by Michelle at 9:03 AM
7 comments
Saturday, March 17, 2007
I've Been Waiting Such a Long Time
Finally, after a year and a half of steady patronage, I was awarded the "Customer of the Week" distinction by Peet's Coffee on Fourth Street.
Michelle is wearing a vintage (homemade, she thinks) dress that she purchased for $1.98 at a thrift store in downtown Fresno, California in the summer of 1992. She can still visualize the tag and its price, written in black crayon, and can still recall her amazement and great rush to show off this incredible find to her friend Tiffany who was rummaging through a box of handbags.The dress needs some work. There is a 2.5" split in one of the side seams and the dress is missing three buttons; if you look closely at this photo of a photo, you'll see the subject's
(Oh, but those boots cost her $225.00.)
This is how it's done.
The dress with all its buttons (and me) in 1992.
Labels: Food and the eatin' of it, I remember when
posted by Michelle at 3:28 PM
3 comments
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Broken Beats: The Musical Tourette's Documentary
I'm looking for a director for a documentary film project. My first choice was friend and colleague Charles Gee but unfortunately Charles suspects that he too may be a Musical Tourette's sufferer and, therefore, would not make a reliable documentarian.
Below is a medical definition of Musical Tourette Syndrome (aka Musical Tourette's or MTS) which has been submitted very recently to Wikipedia and the APA for review. Please let me know if anyone comes to mind -- someone capable of bringing wider attention via the big screen to this as-yet little understood disorder. Previous filmmaking experience is preferred but ownership of a camera and a passion for rare and unsubstantiated medical conditions will suffice.
~~~~~~~~~~
Classification
As with classic Tourette Syndrome, in which the afflicted individual unleashes sudden, semi-involuntary utterances or torrents of words, the person afflicted with Musical Tourette Syndrome (a sub-disorder first distinguished by N. Torres who holds no credentials in the medical field) unleashes snippets of song lyrics or guitar and keyboard riffs. 1970s classic rock appears to comprise the greatest percentage of the Musical Tourette song library but the rampant desiccation of tracks belonging to other genres (including math rock and the highly obscure NWOFHM) has also been observed. It's important to note that, at present, only one human has been documented with this condition. A group of three people employed by a transition vendor in Berkeley, California are working closely with the American Psychiatric Association to classify and list Musical Tourette Syndrome as a Tic disorder in the next Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (the DSM-V) tentatively scheduled for publication in 2011.
Characteristics
Musical tics, much like the broader vocal and motor tics, present themselves outside of predictable time, place and discourse. A scarcely audible stream of music emanating from a co-worker's digital radio station may trigger a severe bout of tics but music need not be present for an individual with Musical Tourette's to display this particular symptom. In most documented cases of tic expression, music is absent altogether from the subject's environment. Studies have yet to be conducted on the role that noise in general, and office equipment sounds in particular -- including those generated by fax machines and printers or fingers tapping on keyboards – has on elevated tic response.
Musical Tourette's should not be diagnosed based solely on the existence of profanity in the song lyrics that are "chosen" and "sung"by the MTS subject. The utterance of offensive words (Copralalia) occurs in a very small percentage of persons with classic Tourette Syndrome and, although there are too few cases of Musical Tourette's to present a comparative study, it is the current medical opinion held by N. Torres that the symptom will share a similar low percentage of existence in Musical Tourette's. The prevalence of profane lyrics in today's music industry, widely available on cd recordings and over the internet, will present a further challenge to the medical establishment when attempting to assign differential diagnosis.
Usually an urge is felt and momentarily supressed just prior to the relase of a musical tic; hence the tics are thought to be only semi-involuntary. In examining the role that urge plays on the ebb and flow and severity of tic production, there has been speculation that socially objectionable lyrics may fuel the MTS subject with a more intense urge and, therefore, more intense release, but there are no studies to support this hypothesis.
Causes
The etiology of Musical Tourette's has not been established but a combination of genetics and environment is suspected. Interviews with family members are encouraged in order to support a hereditary link. Exposure to childhood fever and illness is being examined as a factor in MTS development, as are accidents involving phonic equipment, placement and position in the elementary school choir, frequency and duration of exposure to the Casey Kasem Top 40 Countdown and early musical influences and performances.
One member of the transition vendor group studying MTS has formed a splinter group of one, claiming that MTS is not a Tic Disorder but rather a member of the Post- Traumatic Stress Disorders. The alternate classification was offered following the MTS subject's fourth interview in which pronounced musical memory rentention in relation to both traumatic and sub-traumatic childhood events was demonstrated.
For example, the transition vendor employee notes that,
"The subject periodically recalls the Aerosmith lyric, 'Half my life is in books' written pages/Lived and learned from fools and from sages/You know it's true". Later in the interview the subject revealed that she had been listening to the song and eating Nutter Butters as a young girl in the late 70s when a family member severed two fingers off in the lawn mower, at the first and second joints.
Members of the opposing transition vendor group who are in favor of primary Tic Disorder classification have cited this as a case of co-morbidity, at best.
Diagnosis
Subjects must present with musical tics outside of a musical or bathing/shower environment. Musical response to radio or cd play is considered a natural behavioral response and is not accepted for MTS diagnosis. Musical response at a company staff meeting, eulogy reading or as a daily workplace salutation in place of "Good morning", "Have a good weekend?" or "Coffee break?" is considered to be an aberrant psychological response and should be accepted for diagnosis.
The subject should not be rehearsing vocal chords for an upcoming performance. On that note, the individual must not be a vocal performer in any professional capacity.
Diagnosis is based on behavioral observance only. All other medical and environmental explanations for tics must be ruled out. There is currently no testing to help cofirm suspected MTS.
Treatment
There is no cure for Musical Tourette Syndrome.
Sources:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tourette_syndrome
Below is a medical definition of Musical Tourette Syndrome (aka Musical Tourette's or MTS) which has been submitted very recently to Wikipedia and the APA for review. Please let me know if anyone comes to mind -- someone capable of bringing wider attention via the big screen to this as-yet little understood disorder. Previous filmmaking experience is preferred but ownership of a camera and a passion for rare and unsubstantiated medical conditions will suffice.
~~~~~~~~~~
Classification
As with classic Tourette Syndrome, in which the afflicted individual unleashes sudden, semi-involuntary utterances or torrents of words, the person afflicted with Musical Tourette Syndrome (a sub-disorder first distinguished by N. Torres who holds no credentials in the medical field) unleashes snippets of song lyrics or guitar and keyboard riffs. 1970s classic rock appears to comprise the greatest percentage of the Musical Tourette song library but the rampant desiccation of tracks belonging to other genres (including math rock and the highly obscure NWOFHM) has also been observed. It's important to note that, at present, only one human has been documented with this condition. A group of three people employed by a transition vendor in Berkeley, California are working closely with the American Psychiatric Association to classify and list Musical Tourette Syndrome as a Tic disorder in the next Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (the DSM-V) tentatively scheduled for publication in 2011.
Characteristics
Musical tics, much like the broader vocal and motor tics, present themselves outside of predictable time, place and discourse. A scarcely audible stream of music emanating from a co-worker's digital radio station may trigger a severe bout of tics but music need not be present for an individual with Musical Tourette's to display this particular symptom. In most documented cases of tic expression, music is absent altogether from the subject's environment. Studies have yet to be conducted on the role that noise in general, and office equipment sounds in particular -- including those generated by fax machines and printers or fingers tapping on keyboards – has on elevated tic response.
Musical Tourette's should not be diagnosed based solely on the existence of profanity in the song lyrics that are "chosen" and "sung"by the MTS subject. The utterance of offensive words (Copralalia) occurs in a very small percentage of persons with classic Tourette Syndrome and, although there are too few cases of Musical Tourette's to present a comparative study, it is the current medical opinion held by N. Torres that the symptom will share a similar low percentage of existence in Musical Tourette's. The prevalence of profane lyrics in today's music industry, widely available on cd recordings and over the internet, will present a further challenge to the medical establishment when attempting to assign differential diagnosis.
Usually an urge is felt and momentarily supressed just prior to the relase of a musical tic; hence the tics are thought to be only semi-involuntary. In examining the role that urge plays on the ebb and flow and severity of tic production, there has been speculation that socially objectionable lyrics may fuel the MTS subject with a more intense urge and, therefore, more intense release, but there are no studies to support this hypothesis.
Causes
The etiology of Musical Tourette's has not been established but a combination of genetics and environment is suspected. Interviews with family members are encouraged in order to support a hereditary link. Exposure to childhood fever and illness is being examined as a factor in MTS development, as are accidents involving phonic equipment, placement and position in the elementary school choir, frequency and duration of exposure to the Casey Kasem Top 40 Countdown and early musical influences and performances.
One member of the transition vendor group studying MTS has formed a splinter group of one, claiming that MTS is not a Tic Disorder but rather a member of the Post- Traumatic Stress Disorders. The alternate classification was offered following the MTS subject's fourth interview in which pronounced musical memory rentention in relation to both traumatic and sub-traumatic childhood events was demonstrated.
For example, the transition vendor employee notes that,
"The subject periodically recalls the Aerosmith lyric, 'Half my life is in books' written pages/Lived and learned from fools and from sages/You know it's true". Later in the interview the subject revealed that she had been listening to the song and eating Nutter Butters as a young girl in the late 70s when a family member severed two fingers off in the lawn mower, at the first and second joints.
Members of the opposing transition vendor group who are in favor of primary Tic Disorder classification have cited this as a case of co-morbidity, at best.
Diagnosis
Subjects must present with musical tics outside of a musical or bathing/shower environment. Musical response to radio or cd play is considered a natural behavioral response and is not accepted for MTS diagnosis. Musical response at a company staff meeting, eulogy reading or as a daily workplace salutation in place of "Good morning", "Have a good weekend?" or "Coffee break?" is considered to be an aberrant psychological response and should be accepted for diagnosis.
The subject should not be rehearsing vocal chords for an upcoming performance. On that note, the individual must not be a vocal performer in any professional capacity.
Diagnosis is based on behavioral observance only. All other medical and environmental explanations for tics must be ruled out. There is currently no testing to help cofirm suspected MTS.
Treatment
There is no cure for Musical Tourette Syndrome.
Sources:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tourette_syndrome
Labels: "strange magic", documentary, interference, music, neurology, psychology, rare, science and medicine
posted by Michelle at 2:39 PM
4 comments
Sunday, February 04, 2007
And Miles To Go
Last Saturday I turned 36. On the way to after dinner drinks my car turned 100,000.
I'm a boar; it's true!Actually, I don't feel a bore at all. I feel pretty damn vibrant.
I have a memory of my mom at 36. It's the only age of either parent I can associate with a specific event. (to be continued. I'm tired. Vibrant but tired. Really! Not boring. Not bored!)
posted by Michelle at 11:22 PM
7 comments
Monday, January 15, 2007
Leslie Harpold
I learned just Friday that Leslie Harpold died in December, seven days into that amazing advent calendar she's been producing and presenting to her friends, family, admirers and lucky stumblers-by via her personal website since 2001.
I learned on Friday because I was home sick from work and, outfitted with a new internet connection, portable heater and a cup of hot tea, I could not wait to ascend her digital tree. I found the announcement from family via her advent link and it appears as well on her homepage.
I joined Leslie's Notify List in late 2005, so that I wouldn't miss any of her scheduled activities last year and, sure enough, I had an email in my inbox a couple days before Thanksgiving requesting holiday stories of her list members -- with a plea to spread the word so that she might make this the "best advent/winter countdown yet". I only got a peak at day one -- stolen one evening while at work, but I am sure that it would have been.
This is the first piece of Leslie's I read, having come upon The Hoopla 500 in search of personal stories in the aftermath of September 11. I arrived through a link on a page I don't recall but I do remember what happened after I read that first Leslie story. I spent the next three hours reading (and occasionally re-reading) every Leslie story in the archives. I could not stop. I love the way this woman wrote and that each story made me feel. It wasn't at all about how they made me feel; just that her writing MADE me feel. As I expected, more than I expected, different than I expected.
That, and she was wonderfully capable of giving every feeling its deserved company of a story.
Exposing myself to the kind of emotional truth and clarity so present in her writing made me want to give nothing less in my own. I did not know Leslie but she seemed...honest; dare I say real. And also very funny as time spent looking around her site will reveal.
Some of my favorite Hoopla stories:
My First Real Conversation
Doing the Right Things
Ones Like Us
- The full Hoopla 500 archives are here
- The best advice on "How to Write a Thank-You Note" is here.
- *A beautiful remembrance from a friend is here (Updated link). Another nice one, here. But look here and you'll find so many more.
- Words of appreciation from colleagues at The Morning News, here.
-And a recipe for the best mulled cider I've ever had, posted on the 2003 advent, here.
Thanks, Leslie Harpold, and I hope you are experiencing each and every scenario.
*added 1/15, 7:52p
I learned on Friday because I was home sick from work and, outfitted with a new internet connection, portable heater and a cup of hot tea, I could not wait to ascend her digital tree. I found the announcement from family via her advent link and it appears as well on her homepage.
I joined Leslie's Notify List in late 2005, so that I wouldn't miss any of her scheduled activities last year and, sure enough, I had an email in my inbox a couple days before Thanksgiving requesting holiday stories of her list members -- with a plea to spread the word so that she might make this the "best advent/winter countdown yet". I only got a peak at day one -- stolen one evening while at work, but I am sure that it would have been.
This is the first piece of Leslie's I read, having come upon The Hoopla 500 in search of personal stories in the aftermath of September 11. I arrived through a link on a page I don't recall but I do remember what happened after I read that first Leslie story. I spent the next three hours reading (and occasionally re-reading) every Leslie story in the archives. I could not stop. I love the way this woman wrote and that each story made me feel. It wasn't at all about how they made me feel; just that her writing MADE me feel. As I expected, more than I expected, different than I expected.
That, and she was wonderfully capable of giving every feeling its deserved company of a story.
Exposing myself to the kind of emotional truth and clarity so present in her writing made me want to give nothing less in my own. I did not know Leslie but she seemed...honest; dare I say real. And also very funny as time spent looking around her site will reveal.
Some of my favorite Hoopla stories:
My First Real Conversation
Doing the Right Things
Ones Like Us
- The full Hoopla 500 archives are here
- The best advice on "How to Write a Thank-You Note" is here.
- *A beautiful remembrance from a friend is here (Updated link). Another nice one, here. But look here and you'll find so many more.
- Words of appreciation from colleagues at The Morning News, here.
-And a recipe for the best mulled cider I've ever had, posted on the 2003 advent, here.
Thanks, Leslie Harpold, and I hope you are experiencing each and every scenario.
*added 1/15, 7:52p
Labels: darn, Leslie Harpold, soldiering on, writers and writing
posted by Michelle at 12:38 PM
8 comments
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Calling All In Transit
A Publisher's (by all appearances) speculative goodbye to PGW as we know it now. Equal parts humor, reflection and -- yes -- speculation, Radio Free PGW has fast become one of my daily reads.
Labels: soldiering on
posted by Michelle at 10:07 PM
0 comments
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Look! No Hands!
While not as lucky as Off Duty Artist, who just became the owner of a new MacBook, I gotta say - with this busted computer part and cancelled (by me) internet service, I decided a month later to switch on my AirPort card just to see if anyone was out there -- and Eric's Belkin Router (apostrophe mine) is! So here I am! I'm not pulling my ethernet cable, I'm not pulling your leg, I'm not pulling a damn thing, and that's the only reason I'm here, at home, right now, when I could be out there in the warmest-it's-been-in-two-months weather.
I'm catching up, on everything -- like those all-important Yelp reviews. Seems more prudent to do it at home rather than at work where there is some pulling (out of hair).
I'm catching up, on everything -- like those all-important Yelp reviews. Seems more prudent to do it at home rather than at work where there is some pulling (out of hair).
Labels: at home, soldiering on
posted by Michelle at 4:54 PM
2 comments
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Best of 2006
Think I'll limit the list to music this year. I saw so few 2006-release movies. Was a darn near all-Netflix rentals year. And I can provide (just barely) a "Ten books I read in 2006" list but not a top ten books list. How about I just pick a favorite story in the Best of Tin House Stories collection, yeah? Okay, easy: Pinckney Benedict's Mudman.
Here, then, are my favorite albums of 2006. You'll find audio links (and video in the one, uh, Case) beneath the cover images. Enjoy!
#3
Neko Case: Fox Confessor Brings the Flood
#11
Mission of Burma: The Obliterati
Spider's Web
(Mission of Burma at Great American Music Hall, San Francisco, September 20th, was this year's top show.)
#12
Pharaoh Overlord #4
Demons in the Rising Sun (RealAudio - thanks again WFMU)
I'm tossing in Opeth's Ghost Reveries, released last year. I missed it...BUT, it reappeared this year as a special, limited cd+dvd release. So it counts. And it's just so much better than so much else this year.
The Grand Conjuration
And, below, a few favorite tracks on only slightly lesser so albums. (I'll try to add to this list if I can fetch some more time on my dear neighbor's Mac. She's out of town and even took her cat with her so I've no real good reason to be sitting (in) her apartment and, yet, she still gave me the spare keys. I need to bake her some cookies.)
1. Mogwai (Mr. Beast):Folk Death 95 (Mp3 here)
2. Woven Hand (Mosaic): Dirty Blue [via Raven Sings the Blues]
3. Pajo (1968): Foolish King
4. Elvis Perkins (Ash Wednesday): Ash Wednesday
5. Band of Horses (Everything All the Time): St. Augustine [via Heroes of the Revolution]
Want to see last year's list?
Here, then, are my favorite albums of 2006. You'll find audio links (and video in the one, uh, Case) beneath the cover images. Enjoy!
#3
Neko Case: Fox Confessor Brings the Flood
#4
Circle: Miljard
(Talked about here)
Parmalee (RealAudio)
Viitane (via Aquarius Records)
#5
J Dilla: Donuts
Walkinonit
Gobstopper & One For Ghost (RealAudio)
#6
Shogun Kunitoki:Tasankokaiku
Tropiikin Kuuma Huuma
Montezuma
#7
Destroyer: Destroyer's Rubies
European Oils
#8
Circle: Miljard
(Talked about here)
Parmalee (RealAudio)Viitane (via Aquarius Records)
#5
J Dilla: Donuts
WalkinonitGobstopper & One For Ghost (RealAudio)
#6
Shogun Kunitoki:Tasankokaiku
Tropiikin Kuuma HuumaMontezuma
#7
Destroyer: Destroyer's Rubies
European Oils#8
#11
Mission of Burma: The Obliterati
Spider's Web(Mission of Burma at Great American Music Hall, San Francisco, September 20th, was this year's top show.)
#12
Pharaoh Overlord #4
Demons in the Rising Sun (RealAudio - thanks again WFMU)I'm tossing in Opeth's Ghost Reveries, released last year. I missed it...BUT, it reappeared this year as a special, limited cd+dvd release. So it counts. And it's just so much better than so much else this year.
The Grand ConjurationAnd, below, a few favorite tracks on only slightly lesser so albums. (I'll try to add to this list if I can fetch some more time on my dear neighbor's Mac. She's out of town and even took her cat with her so I've no real good reason to be sitting (in) her apartment and, yet, she still gave me the spare keys. I need to bake her some cookies.)
1. Mogwai (Mr. Beast):
2. Woven Hand (Mosaic): Dirty Blue [via Raven Sings the Blues]
3. Pajo (1968): Foolish King
4. Elvis Perkins (Ash Wednesday): Ash Wednesday
5. Band of Horses (Everything All the Time): St. Augustine [via Heroes of the Revolution]
Want to see last year's list?
A happy 2007 to all.
Labels: music, obsessed again
posted by Michelle at 12:52 AM
5 comments
