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The catch-all for items related to and/or inspired by the music that shaped me. |
Music has played a role in nearly every situation of my life. This is where I'll be collecting items inspired by those moments- poems, lyrics, blog entries- the soundtrack of me. ![]() ![]() I may also contribute blog-style entries here from time to time:
And this month, I've decided to take part in... |
** Image ID #2070351 Unavailable ** This week's theme: Soundtracks No slight intended to the Soundtrackers for sharing their thoughts this month or to lizco252, who has again done a masterful job of assembling us all for one of the coolest WDC activities...and I'm not knockin' all the fun we've had so far, but I'm feelin' that kinda way again. ![]() ![]() This has less to do with my dislike of pizza crusts, and everything to do with not following rules. I admittedly don't watch a lot of television. I got one for Christmas, but it's hard pulling in local channels without a crazy expensive antenna, and I don't have cable or anything like that. I'll probably spring for Netflix at some point down the road, but their original shows often don't interest me. That leaves me with Hulu, a couple shows Comedy Central offers, and hacked versions of ESPN, NFL Network, and some hockey games. I don't really need a whole lot more, to be honest. The important thing would be having access to local NBC/ABC/CBS/FOX if I wanted up-to-date-ish news and weather, but I can get most of that off the internet anyway (and I've started following local meteorologists on Facebook so I get the Cortland and Buffalo weather forecasts less confused now ![]() ![]() ![]() What I do know outside of what I just told you I already know is that if this were an actual show on real television that was available for free on all platforms, I would watch the hell outta it. Especially if I were about eight or nine years old and I was living in the time it seems to be set in (Early 70's? Mid-decade?). And then I woulda bitched and whined for every associated action figure and playset that would've been mass-marketed, because you know this show woulda been huge. Fake cocaine was totally a 70's toy accompaniment, right? I barely had any action figures from the early 80's when I would've been of a suitable age for owning them in a playful manner, and the few I did have probably weren't the ones with all the cool add-on stuffs (but I did have a Six Million Dollar Man doll with the bionic eye ![]() And I don't really care for cop shows or drama, but I guess I could get into the action scenes and the aggression and the fights with the perps resisting arrests. And the outfits, and the cheese factor. I'd be all about it. If this show was real and had like a ten-season run, I'd buy 'em all...and then probably watch them all marathon-esquelike over the course of a few weeks' nights. And I'd feel like I was eight years old again every time the show's theme song and opening sequence came on. Even as an old guy who can barely walk anymore, I still wanna go out and fight crime when I hear it. Then I remember that most of the time crime-fighting requires wearing pants (or tights, but I don't have superhero aspirations), and I'm not fond of that. "But make no mistakes and switch up the channel... I'm Buddy Rich ![]() Lyrics. ![]() Ya gotta admit, it's pretty exciting. I wanna crash cars and tackle people through piles of garbage bags when it comes on. I would totally lift weights with this playin' (if I still lifted when this was MTV's second-most popular ![]() ![]() Sadly, it wasn't meant to be. And it never will be, at least not as it was originally intended. I'll have to settle for tracking down a copy of this comic book ![]() Bonus fake TV show interview footage! |
** Image ID #2070351 Unavailable ** This week's theme: Soundtracks Yesterday afternoon and into the early evening I spent some serious time on YouTube, and it became evident to me that I probably could've used Pearl Jam songs all this week. Where was this idea on Sunday?? "Breath", "State Of Love And Trust", "Chloe Dancer/Crown Of Thorns" (not a PJ song but it's one they cover a lot in concert and a couple members were in the band that originally played it), "Hard To Imagine", "Dead Man", "You've Got To Hide Your Love Away", and anything Eddie Vedder did on the Into The Wild soundtrack ![]() But no. Instead I'm running with their cover of The Who's "Love, Reign O'er Me" from the Adam Sandler flick Reign Over Me ![]() And Pearl Jam is an inspired choice to take on this song. I don't know of many other singers who can match the passion in Roger Daltrey's voice, and Eddie Vedder definitely has the wail necessary to sell the desperate emotion on display around the 2:20 or 4:23 marks of the following clip. That's all I need to know about this. That locks it up for me. Although hearing Pete Townshend describe The Who's version makes me love it even more... "[It] refers to Meher Baba's one time comment that rain was a blessing from God; that thunder was God's Voice. It's another plea to drown, only this time in the rain. Jimmy goes through a suicide crisis. He surrenders to the inevitable, and you know, you know, when it's over and he goes back to town he'll be going through the same shit, being in the same terrible family situation and so on, but he's moved up a level. He's weak still, but there's a strength in that weakness. He's in danger of maturing." That "strength in that weakness" line...hits me like a brick to the chest. That's all I can really say about this. I've had a bit of a day today, and I really needed this. Not rain, not the song necessarily, but that strength. It's gonna take probably every bit of energy I have tonight to force myself to find things to laugh at...I can already feel one of those moods where random sadness is the end result coming on, and it may last until the weekend's over if I'm not super careful. Pretty sure I won't feel fully back to normal until Monday afternoon provided the phone doesn't ring between now and then...I probably should just shut it off until like Tuesday anyway so I can feel like I have some control, but if I do that I'll probably forget to turn it back on until like next Thursday. Funny how that works. |
** Image ID #2070351 Unavailable ** This week's theme: Soundtracks I'm totally cheating skirting the rules a little today, but you'll have that. I almost went with Taking Back Sunday's "This Photograph Is Proof (I Know You Know)" ![]() And they were...I'd forgotten about Beer: The Movie ![]() ![]() ![]() So "Timberwolves At New Jersey"...not an NBA game, and not in a movie, but the video is shot as if it were a theatrical trailer for a horror flick. That counts, because I'm saying so ![]() ![]() It's disappointing when a band starts out as just something your small circle of friends enjoys- like it's your own little secret- and then it gets co-opted by the masses and overcommercialized. I was at their infamous 2002 show in Buffalo when the lead singer fell off the stage ![]() ![]() And then there's the whole Emo thing. I guess there are people who would classify TBS as Emo, but it's also possible there are a lot of the same people who don't know what Emo means. I don't know if I'd consider them Emo. Some songs, maybe...lyrically, definitely. But it's not sad bastard slit your wrists music. It's too pop-punk for that. We could probably ponder and debate it all day, but why bother? Conversations like that typically end up as pissing fights, with everyone taking sides and thinking their opinion is more right and everyone involved just comes off as pretentious music snobs. I hate those dicks. And I'm probably one of 'em ![]() "Literate and stylish. Kissable and quiet. Well, that's what girls' dreams are made of. And that's all you need to know...you have it or you don't." Lyrics. ![]() |
** Image ID #2070351 Unavailable ** This week's theme: Soundtracks I'm gonna cut right to the point and work my way back: Sometimes, I'm an asshole. If I did the math right, let's go back to February of '99. I would've been with The Advantage Company for just over a year...I started out in their service center ![]() But being that so many of us in the building were in the same boat, we had a great bond. There was us downstairs, with the technicians and evaluators on one half of the second floor and the parts department and office staff on the other side. I hate saying this because I don't like to refer to myself in such a way, but I was pretty well-liked by just about everyone there, and sometimes divides would happen because maybe a tech didn't care for one of the door people, or couldn't get a part fast enough, or one of the girls in the office said one thing over the phone to a customer and an evaluator could see something totally different. That's how it goes...I was lucky I guess that I was good at what I did and was personable and friendly enough to bridge gaps between the different functions of the building and the groups involved. It also helped that most of us were young; I was 22 when I was hired, probably right around the average age for most of the support staff. And somehow I allowed myself to host an anti-Valentines' Day get-together for the single people. There was some of my fellow door crew (most of us were the raucous party bunch, continuing our shift down the street at the Keystone Grill several times a week once we locked the doors for the night and counted up the money), a couple of the younger evaluators (they usually diagnosed incoming units and did the easy fixes because they maybe didn't have the proper technical certifications required to replace major parts), and some of the office girls...it was their idea, if I remember correctly, and because I had my own place I was the logical choice to house the shindig. It's also worth noting that I was particularly close to the girls in the office...not because they were girls, but because it was a nice place to get away from the demands of the front door once in awhile. ![]() So anyway, there were maybe 8 or 10 of us? Couldn't have been more, because my apartment wasn't very big and being that it was February, partying on my patio wasn't an option. The plan was for everyone to bring some snacks, I'd provide some beers, we'd order a pizza, and watch a couple movies because we weren't anyone's special someones so fuck 'em...a low-key affair and a far cry from the summertime cookouts I would throw together with my friends, some family members, and a few close co-worker buddies that would turn into ragers occasionally interrupted by police presence (but those are stories for another time...RIP toilet seat Verno never fixed but the weird McGowan dude swore he did ![]() One of the girls, who was really into the whole idea of this gathering, went all-out...really above and beyond what I was expecting. There was homemade dips, and flowers, and lotsa effort on her behalf. If I thought I was awesome just for having a couch and a tv, she really made the entire experience. It felt like it was all something more than maybe it was originally intended to be. I know there were two movies involved. I don't remember what one of them was, but the other was Can't Hardly Wait ![]() Movies aimed at the teenage crowd though...I'll say this: they have some kickass soundtracks. It's a known fact, all throughout cinematic history. I ain't even gonna front; the storylines are complete contrived bullshit (none of us is hookin' up with our school's Jennifer Love Hewitt, ever, c'mon) but the music is always spot-on. From the 60's on through. If generations are loosely categorized by popular movies, the soundtracks inevitably become ours. It's not the plot that defines coming of age...it's the song(s) that play behind the seminal moments. Back to my story...so V-Day comes and goes, and the girl with the ideas and the homemade spinach artichoke dip is kinda cold to me for a few days after our soiree. I guess she really liked me, and the whole thing was put together in part because she had a little crush on me, and I wasn't appreciative enough of her efforts. And don't get me wrong; she was a really cool girl and an awesome friend, but I just didn't see her as being something more than that. I also didn't know how to say it like such in a way that wouldn't crush her, so like any typically stupid clueless boy I just let things go until she lit into me about it. And it was ugly because, let's face it, no one pretty-cries. Crying is always ugly...at least in these kinds of situations. It doesn't look good on anyone. And of course I felt awful. Like, I just wanted to host a get-together for us all and have a good time with everyone! And I thought she was just being really nice and outgoing and friendly and all that. I never looked at her as someone I'd want to be romantically involved in...especially not during an anti-Valentines' Day bash! It was rough-goings for a little while. Super cool, down to earth, fun to hang out with...but that was it for me. I was completely oblivious to anything else that might've suggested something different. And sometimes it takes physically typing out a story seventeen years later to realize that maybe you are an asshole and maybe you need to pay more attention to what you do and say to people you interact with on a daily basis ![]() And I think that's why you don't hear me whine about being 40 and single and never having been married...I've had my chances. I did the long-term dating thing. Lots of beautiful women. Deep down, there is a romantic side to me. And while some people turned out not to be right for me, the biggest reason has always been me. I've accepted this. I'm learning to be ok with it. I just don't know how to function in a relationship. I'm selfish and needy and my expectations are grossly overinflated at times and I don't match the other person's level of commitment...and it's not from lack of effort; I've tried. I've learned from mistakes, but I seem to have a knack for inventing new ones when I put my skills to practice. I mean well. But I am also oblivious, mostly, to women who also mean well and have even better intentions than I do. And the only conclusion I can come to from all of my experiences with the fairer sex is that I'm an asshole. A selfish, undisciplined, scatterbrained fuckface of an asshole. And nowadays, I'm learning more about how not to irritate myself with that realization than I'm worried about slapping a bandaid ladyfriend over the wounds and calling it "progress". |
** Image ID #2070351 Unavailable ** This week's theme: Soundtracks In a move that should surprise no one, I'm picking a song today from a movie I don't believe I've ever seen, Less Than Zero ![]() ![]() I also like comedy over drama as a general genre preference rule of thumb, and there are way more comedies that I've yet to see that pushes anything drama-related farther down the list of priorities. ![]() ![]() Here's why this is my song today: last night Jimmy Fallon opened up The Tonight Show ![]() Hard to believe, but back when this song was popular I was in the Boy Scouts. And one of my troop's leaders was a big influence on me as far as music went...he always had the latest shit, and he was always bumpin' something I dug when we'd drive anywhere. Not only would he dub me a copy of anything I wanted, but he also owned a bugle ![]() But the real hero of this particular story is my cousin, who dubbed me his copy of Walking With A Panther ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
** Image ID #2070351 Unavailable ** This week's theme: Soundtracks I have a weird feeling that I'm gonna be doing a lot of procrastinating this week. It happens...for no reason in particular and for definite reasons that I don't feel like getting into at the same time. I've put off my "Give It 100!" ![]() ![]() ![]() Totally unrelated-to-this-entry nonsense. Soundtrack week...this should be a little easier than the first two weeks of this year's version of "The Soundtrack of Your Life" ![]() ![]() I'm gonna take a wild guess and say maybe- maybe- one other participating Soundtracker has seen or even heard of this movie. I'd be surprised if it was more than one. It's also the only movie I've ever purchased from the iTunes store...because I don't know if it ever even saw a theatrical release in the US. It's The Tragically Hip's Bobcaygeon ![]() The title itself comes from a small Canadian town in the province of Ontario, and it serves as the background of a song with the same name. It's not my favorite T-Hip song, but it's a beautiful little tune nonetheless and the original video ![]() The interesting thing (for me at least, because I'm a big Hip superfan ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() And before I finish rambling on about all of this, it's worth noting that the album "Bobcaygeon" came from, Phantom Power ![]() ![]() Anyway, I've said enough about them. This is my obligatory Tragically Hip Soundtrackers entry. I'll try not to use them again (though no guarantees next week that I won't try to slip in a track from one of lead singer Gord Downie's solo albums ![]() Fun Fact: Of any major recording artist or band, I've probably spent more money on The Tragically Hip between cds, merch, and concerts than anyone else. And the damn hockey jersey that I spent almost $200 on five or six years ago barely fits me anymore. ![]() ![]() ![]() Dad, me, brother Mike, and sister Chrissy. |
** Image ID #2070351 Unavailable ** This week's theme: Guilty Pleasures Ok...before I get into today's ridiculousness in music history, let's address the two topics of personal ridiculousness from yesterday: 1) My back isn't quite as bad as it's been the previous two days, but it's still not right. Heat and generic Motrin have helped, but the most comfortable position is laying down flat...which, as many of you are probably aware, isn't conducive for accomplishing most things one does on a laptop. I may have to find a better way to sit, or just give up and spend the rest of the day binge-watching whatever I can find on Hulu (because damn you Fran 💜 💜 💜 ![]() ![]() ![]() And then there's #2, which is the fact that it's -2°F and I'm definitely staying inside because (almost) no amount of Valentine love is getting me out to chase after it in these conditions. I (almost) don't care who ya are. Although going across the street to CVS yesterday wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be...even though the snot freezes to the inside of your nose as soon as you've spent more than three seconds in the elements, there's a point somewhere south of ten degrees where all cold is cold and there's no difference between 10, 5, 0, and -30 degrees. I saw a fun quote from a tv weather guy in Buffalo who impersonates Mark Twain on the side (and he's pretty good at it too...Mike Randall as Mark Twain- Live! ![]() ![]() ![]() Every year I complain. And every year, nothing changes. You'd think I would've learned my lesson by now. Didn't Twain also say something like "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results"? Oh snap...that was Albert Einstein. Ahhh...all you people with crazy white hair and mustaches look alike anyway (apologies to the ladies with crazy white hair and mustaches ![]() Anyway, on to today's selection for "The Soundtrack of Your Life" ![]() There aren't many bands you'll hear me actually say I hate. Even if I'm not fond of the music or the style or the message, I can at least respect the artist(s) because they have the talent and will to succeed at doing something I am not capable of, and "hate" is also a very strong word. But I can comfortably say that I hate Kiss. And I really don't have a great reason for it. They're not totally terrible enough that people like them out of pity or because they're awful. Their songs for the most part are catchy enough, I guess. They just don't resonate with me. Nothing about them is appealing to me. Not the makeup, or the costumes, or them when they take off the makeup and the costumes. I just...don't get them. I've also never had them forced on me, which I appreciate, and I know how that can make you dislike something even more. Maybe it's just where they fell in terms of history and popularity and all that...but even though their peak years were slightly before my time, that's a terrible excuse; I like the Beatles, and they broke up five years before I was born. I guess all I really can say is "Nope, I don't like 'em, and I don't need to have a reason other than I just don't like 'em." But...but but but but but: there are exceptions. There are always exceptions. There are two songs in the Kiss catalog I find tolerable. One is "I Love It Loud" ![]() And then there's "Calling Dr. Love", and just like I have no good explanation for disliking Kiss, I also don't really know why I enjoy this song more than anything else they've done...so I'm gonna blame it on file-sharing. Stay with me here... At one point while working for the local consumer electronics company in WNY, I was sorta chosen to be the sorta customer service manager of their custom computer division. I say "sorta" because it seemed like the entire floor staff (that was assembled after a wholesale leadership change) was told they were in some kind of management position too, which surprisingly didn't lead to any power struggles or anything...going to the bar/restaurant next door together a lot probably massaged most of our concerns. Anyway, our showroom featured a short wall of Sony laptops, a glass case with pagers and cell phones, and an area where we did consultations for desktops we built (if I remember it correctly). In one corner we had a large projection screen tv with a Sony computer hooked up to it. That was what we primarily spent most of our time playing with, because our company wasn't tremendously busy. We surfed the internet on it, and between the lot of us we had a pretty wild and varied Napster library on it. Our boss in particular was a Kiss fan, which is probably where I picked up "Calling Dr. Love" from. It was just so cheesy and corny and campy but it was also awesome in some kind of gross pubescent teenage boy way that still somehow managed to be appealing to me in adulthood. It's what I think of when someone uses the term "Cock Rock" (see also: AC/DC; Van Halen; hair metal in general). Also, there were many hungover mornings (and afternoons ![]() ![]() For the record, I personally put a lot of "rare" (at the time) Nirvana, Weezer, Pearl Jam, and Radiohead songs on that computer. I know this because I still have a couple of the cds I burned from that desktop before we closed up the shop so we could be incorporated back into the company's flagship location. That's also when I learned I really must've been the customer service manager, because after everyone's various reassignments and the move back I was definitely the Computer Department Manager. We celebrated the move mostly by sulking and yelling "Fuck 'em!" a lot in the back commercial sales and new-build areas while packing up because we didn't want to be incorporated, and the night crew often took turns having pints next door for the last month or two because why bother waiting for closing time? What a great time to be gainfully employed! ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Some random notes for today... ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() From "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" ![]() From Patrece ~ ![]() From Princess Megan Rose 22 Years ![]() From PandaPaws Licensed VetTech ![]() From Prosperous Snow celebrating ![]() From Matt Bird MSci (Hons) AMRSC ![]() That's what you get! All of that! And...weeks #3 and #4 are even more crazy! Seriously! Memberships and stuff! And it benefits the "30-Day Bloggers Group" ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
** Image ID #2070351 Unavailable ** This week's theme: Guilty Pleasures Ok you guys...I'm not in a happy mood right now. Thursday I had one of my really bad days, depression-wise. Woke up yesterday and was in a much better frame of mind...but I couldn't walk. Seriously. My lower back was on fire...I could barely make it across the room to the coffee pot. It loosened up some throughout the day, but by the time I got ready for bed last night it was ridiculously tight again. I could barely bend down enough to plug in my laptop. I have no idea how this happened...it's the weirdest thing. The last time my back hurt this bad it was from playing basketball all afternoon...like, ten years ago. And it's not like I've done anything strenuous in the last day and a half to have earned this kinda pain. I woke up this morning...same thing. I'm walking like I've got a 2x4 shoved up my ass and 16 pieces of luggage under each arm. It's not a good look. At some point I'm gonna hafta run try and make it across the street to CVS for some kind of pain meds or back patches (I've always loved the heated back patches, because they work). Only, it's -1 degree Fahrenheit outside and icy as fuck. To make matters worse (and there's always a worse), I woke up freezing because although my room is a little drafty I can't sleep with the heat on because it's radiator heat, which means it gets desert hot in here if it's left on for too long. So I either wake up in the middle of the night drowning in sweat, or I toss and turn in the early morning trying to friction up some damn heat (at least tossing and turning isn't shudderingly painful). And I had a dream about a girl I went to high school with who lost a sister in a drunk-driving accident...the deceased was a classmate of mine but we weren't close, and I had one line of a song about a car crash playing over and over in my semi-consciousness but I couldn't figure out what song it was from ("Crash my car every day the same way." ![]() So I'm scrolling through Facebook, alternating between how I'm gonna figure out the poem I wanna write for my "Give It 100!" ![]() ![]() "Your problem is you ain't been loved like you should. What I got to give will sho 'nuff do you good." Lyrics. ![]() And I can almost hear Cinn ![]() I'd recently moved out of my first apartment and into a place with my man DMFM. A really weird set-up...we had a giant kitchen, an average-sized living room, and two small bedrooms (one off each room) that didn't have doors. And since I was moving from a one-bedroom in an apartment complex with only a tiny cooking kitchen and this was his first time on his own, we didn't have a dinette set or anything (bachelors for sure). What we did have in the kitchen though was a desk with a computer...like, an elementary school kid's desk with the flip-up lid, and some old-ass desktop computer his boss gave him. So we hooked it up with one of those dial-up AOL CD-roms, and we'd screw around in chat rooms until all hours of the night while gettin' drunk off of Miller High Life (The Champagne Of Beers!). Good times. ![]() So early one Saturday night, I'm chattin' up a lady who, it turns out, happens to live around the corner from us...to the point we're describing little landmarks only the natives would know. She brings up music and how she likes to see local bands, and I mention I have friends who play, and she tells me she's getting ready to see a band called C.O. Jones ![]() ![]() I don't remember much about the night, to be honest. I do know I was not really attracted to the girl, and I got pretty shitfaced. I know the band played "Tell Me Something Good" ![]() ![]() ![]() And I'm pretty sure she never talked to me again after she poured me out of her car that night. Anyway, if this song ever comes on in public anywhere now, and I've had even the slightest sniff of alcohol (or not), I will start groovin' (Can I say that? Is it ok for a li'l white dude to do that?) and slitherin' and bouncin' along. Like this is my jaaaaaam!! ![]() ![]() So yeah, I needed this today. Good news. Somethin' that'll make me want to attempt walking down a flight of stairs in frigid weather so I can get something for my shitty back, and then I can lounge around in pajama pants all day while I come up with an anti-Valentine's Day poem that doesn't suck for my "100" ![]() ![]() |
** Image ID #2070351 Unavailable ** This week's theme: Guilty Pleasures I guess this is another category of music (and life in general) I no longer feel guilty about...but it may come as a surprise to those who don't know me well, so I no longer feel like I'm "hiding" anything. I mentioned at some point last week during the One Hit Wonders reveals that I was a big fan of music from the sixties...and I'm fascinated by the early days of what was known as the British Invasion. Sure, everyone knows the Beatles and The Rolling Stones, but they also opened the doors for so many other groups. So I love jangly ol' Britpop. There. I said it. The second laptop I ever owned was also the first one I set my own personal iTunes account up with (when I had my first iPod, I used my parents' desktop...which made for some confusing moments between myself and my youngest brother: "Dude, I accidentally just synced my iPod up with all your music. ![]() ![]() And it seems shocking, but Herman's Hermits' Retrospective ![]() ![]() There are three absolutely crazy things happening here in this two minute, 44 second slice of the past. One is how plain and stoic the performance is...like, there is no movement other than what is absolutely necessary to sing or play an instrument. It's almost like what iTunes is now compared to all the indie record stores that it closed down in its wake...a stark contrast to what you see bands doing on stage when they play late-nite talk shows and whatnot in this day and age. The second thing is how upbeat and happy a song about heartbreak can sound. I know it happens so much more often now, but listen to how bouncy this is for some poor kid who's carryin' on about how it's no good to pine for the girl who stepped on his heart. He's clearly been affected by this person, yet he's keeping great time about it. I'd be all like "Fuck this, fuck her, and fuck her mom" while downing all the Crown Royal my liver could handle before the cops come because I'm sitting half-naked and shitfaced outside her neighbor's bedroom window since I'm not totally familiar with the neighborhood and all the houses look the same at 2:47am. And the third thing? Look at how polite and friendly he is, and how acceptable his behavior was back in the day. Like, he really felt he could talk to this chick's ma after she dumped him...like he felt he needed to get his feelings off his chest, and he knew the mom would listen (even though it seems like there's little she could do about the whole situation). You can't get away with that kind of behavior now...not with stalker laws and restraining orders and "Stand Your Ground" principles. You catch the wrong gun control patriot on your way to your ex's mother and your ass is gettin' shot at for bein' someplace you're not supposed to be! Hell, these days you can't even compliment someone on Facebook without them gettin' all paranoid that you ooooohh might be in love with them ooooohh...innocent remarks get overblown and stretched out and hung up on a line in the public's backyard like a wet sweater that stretches down into the mud. God forbid I tell anyone they've got a lovely anything (daughter, house, t-shirt, smile, ass, etc.)...everyone assumes there's an ulterior motive, even when it's just a god damn nice thing to say to someone to maybe brighten up their day. And you can't even say you're just saying it because you're a nice guy, because then they want to accuse of being insincere! You can't fucking win with people! That's why I'm generally a miserable prick who prefers to keep to himself...so I don't have to put myself through the hassle of whether or not my authenticity should be at question. Life's a lot easier that way ![]() Relationship Goals...Level: Elite. |
** Image ID #2070351 Unavailable ** This week's theme: Guilty Pleasures I guess another qualifier in the Guilty Pleasure Olympics ![]() The Get Up Kids reggie and the full effect When a band can basically open for itself, play a high-energy hour and a half-long set, and then put on a dominating, muscular closing performance, I would say you've gotten your money's worth out of that tiny club gig. A Reggie show...that might've been the best concert ever. See, they're basically the Get Up Kids' keyboardist and a rotating cast of other musicians from other genres and whatever. And on any of their given albums, they can sound like an 80's Eurotrash pop dance band (Fluxuation), a very heavy Finnish death metal alter-ego (Common Denominator- you will go buy a t-shirt!), and the standard Emo punk/pop band singin' about girlfriends, circa the mid-2000's...and that's probably when I saw them, maybe 2004 or 2005. They opened in costume as Fluxuation...and they mainly addressed the crowd with some humor for about twenty minutes and maybe played two songs, including "Gloves" ![]() ![]() I've seen live clips of the band when they're in different costumes and stuff, and it's fun, but it'll never be as amazing as seeing them open, close, and encore a show. I don't think they do that anymore, and it's a damn shame because it's probably the most immersive way to see the band perform songs from all over their varied catalog. And I think we can all agree that some of us have given up on the idea of "guilty pleasures"...there is nothing wrong with liking something that sounds nothing like ![]() ![]() Going to concerts in general is almost always an enjoyable experience...especially if you've got a tight group of people and enough space and everyone's havin' a good time. And when the band is puttin' on a great performance, the entire atmosphere around the venue is amazing...even if it's just a little club gig in a tiny spot with shitty sightlines, and the line to get in and the roped-off area to go outside for a smoke seems like it's more spacious than the front of the actual stage. But that's where you also meet some of the coolest- and weirdest ![]() |