22 posts tagged “vox”
We've become a nation of self-absorbed pansies, liars, pussies, cheats and thieves 'led' by a bunch of say-anything to-get-elected politicians. Regardless of how November goes, I weep for our future. (old line borrowed from Ferris Bueller so as not to take what follows below toooo seriously....)
The economy that made this nation great has almost been eradicated from the face of this Earth. If you don't believe that, you haven't been to Pittsburgh or Detroit recently. Our future as an economic power is firmly hinged upon the US dollar. And, the dollars' saving graces appear to be, currently and logistically, housed in the Bay Area and New York. Soon, perhaps Manhattan goes the way of the steel and auto industries...If one of these major banks "fail", batten down the hatches and reopen those long dormant bunkers, folks. We've got all the ingredients of a catastrophic, self-fulfilling "prophecy cake" laid out on the counter. It just needs to be mixed and put in the oven to make it happen. We're that close.
/// Sidenote for those of you that are investors: If Charlie Gasparino doesn't shut his G-D mouth (every time he opens it, he sells 300 more of his books and the markets find something else to worry about...) I am going to fly up to Manhattan and...well...I've heard people can get prosecuted for internet threats and he's just the type to track me down so that he can sell some more books and make another headline, so I'll let discretion be the better part of valor today... ///
While I'm not favoring either of the two candidates, check this scenario: Americans are so fed up with all the current administrations' b.s.--and I am not downplaying that at all--Obama gets elected in November because we all blindly and desperately yearn for change; and gasoline continues its meteoric rise (both are not only possible, but perhaps likely...), so real estate continues to languish. Then Obama starts slapping the already beleaguered American public with taxes they already can't afford, due to overspending and irresponsible fiscal policy (don't start with the "it will only effect the top 1% of incomes" argument. It doesn't ring true.) or removing current incentives, and we will be in a tailspin this generation, and perhaps the one before it, has never seen. I'm not kidding. The consumer accounts for 70% of our GDP. You think Ma and Pa Jones are still gonna be able to tap their home equity lines (WHAT home equity line???) to pay for the gas in their 9 year old Ford Explorer...nevermind to pay their taxes??? Start saving your pennies, friends. This doomsday scenario may ultimately not play out, but the likelihood is growing every single day. This is one nasty storm headed our way if something doesn't change soon...
Further, if McCain somehow gets in, I'm far from convinced that we would be saved. I am absolutely not touting him as our saviour. He's not. But, for me, he's the lesser of two evils. Obama is not the answer to what this country needs. Sorry, to my predominantly liberal Voxhood, but he's just not. All we know is that we want change, so anything opposite the Bush 'legacy' will solve this country's problems. And, thus, it appears I will once again vote from my silent soapbox, stationed firmly in Purgatory (and home to the hanging chad) for the candidate that I feel LEAST uneasy about...*sigh* Obama brings hope to the American public. I share that hope. I want this to be a better country. I've just never been one to employ hope as an effective strategy for anything...
A review, by the venerable music enthusiast, Crush:
Death Cab for Cutie's (DCFC) new album, Narrow Stairs, is due for release next week. Even though this isn't technically indie music anymore (the band signed a major contract a few years ago), DCFC has its roots firmly planted in the indie arena.
I wasn't a fan of this band until recently. They've drifted on and off of my personal music radar screen over the past few years, as they've grown in popularity, but always escaped my interest. Yet, I can't get enough of their latest single, I Will Possess Your Heart. This is a song you'll either love or hate, in part due to the 4 minute plus instrumental "intro". In my opinion, the intro is what makes this song so unique and likeable. There are haunting keyboard chords pounding feverishly, between a stiff and memorable bass line. It builds to an emotive crescendo once the lyrics do finally kick in. There aren't many lyrics to begin with. What few words are included, seem simple and sophomoric on paper. Combine them, though, with the musical indulgence of each of the band's musicians, and you have a modern day masterpiece, albeit not one made for radio play or mass appeal. (Was indie music ever destined or desired for radio waves?)
There's also plenty of echo and reverb that offset the melodic tones, giving it an edginess that almost feels misplaced in this song....almost. They clash with the enunciating velvet voice of Ben Gibbard, the band's singer and keyboardist, but somehow it all works. In a few words, I'd characterize it as hardcore emo-indie. And, its good.
The video aint too bad either. You can feel the song's "author" stalking the subject femme fatale. (Does anyone recognize the actress? She looks familiar, but I can't place her.) The video goes a long way to justify the 4 minute intro. You can feel her angst and confusion; his frustration and hope. He's in her head, but he wants more. He wants to possess her heart, her being. She feels him, as she journeys in far reaching corners of the world. She is depicted in day and night; cold climes and warm; north, south, east and west....traveling the world alone, and yet she's not necessarily lonely. He's with her in spirit, but is she happy that he accompanies her in this way or is she attempting to run from his grip? Is she sullen or determined? Is she content in her solitude? Depressed or merely contemplative? That's up to your interpretation, and may be dictated by the station of your own personal love life, I'd guess.
The first time I heard this, I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. It took a second and third listen to know I did. You don't have to be an indie music fan to appreciate this, but even if you are, you won't necessarily like it! Its unique and eclectic and catchy and maybe even a little annoying, depending on your mood. It is emotive, if nothing else. I like it. Hope you do as well. My guess is that the musicians in my hood will enjoy it. The music enthusiasts that might not have ever "played" music, may not... Meh. Just a hunch. Its a good 8 minute distraction from your workday or a great lead-in to your music-filled weekend...Enjoy!
the album is to be officially released on Tuesday, May 13
Since I seem to have been relegated to reminding everyone around me of the lesser known, (but no less important) holidays and observances, I want to take this opportunity to scream:
IT'S EARTH DAY, MOTHER EFFER!
Can I just tell you how annoying it is to live on the same planet with 95% of you? (As M points out, that's probably on the high side...I'm not a cranky SOB that can't get along with anyone. I was just seething when I wrote this.) You're supposed to be my fellow man, woman, neighbor. I'm supposed to love you for the fact that we are one, in mankind. Fuck that. Just because we're the same species does not entitle you to my understanding or acceptance; nevermind my love or affection. Sometimes, I'm not entirely convinced that we are of the same species, anyway. We may not even be of the same genus. (That's genus, not genius, whizkid...) Spaceship Earth, my ass. Drop me off on Mars, 'cuz I wanna get off. I'm tired of sharing this planet with you.
Here's what I've seen so far, today, Earth Day 2008:
*Four cigarettes carelessly discarded onto the ground. (By the way, I am not challenging your right to smoke...just don't fuck up OUR Earth in the process. I am forced to share it with you, remember?)
*Cans and bottles tossed in the garbage at my workplace, instead of walking the extra three steps to the recycle bin.
*A McDonald's to-go bag tossed at 70 mph on a major freeway; its contents spilling "harmlessly" into the median.
*The typical rush hour traffic jam, full of people alone in their cars. (myself included)
*An 88 page document copied onto 88 pages of paper instead of using both sides. This may seem trivial, but it irked me nonetheless.
So, nobody really celebrates Earth Day. I know. That's ok. I can only concern myself with myself, right? I don't expect nor desire a planet full of Crush-clones. (Oh God, no!) In the past, I've posted about our apathy towards such other observances like Veteran's Day and Flag Day. I know I'm unusual in observing these, and that perhaps VDay and Flag Day are only pertinent to someone like myself, with a former military history. Appreciating what Veteran's Day is, and actually observing it, are two entirely different things. I know this. But, c'mon! Earth Day is about ALL of us. We share this crazy blue marble, and I am doing my part in trying to pass the metaphorical baton to the next generation. Are you? No, you're not. (addressing the majority of you that aren't, obviously)
I wore green today, and three people asked me if I thought it was still St. Patrick's Day...
*sigh* Why do I have to be encumbered with these horrible social afflictions of respect, courtesy, responsibility and honor in this world of self-serving dolts??? It would be so much easier to be like you: (again, not you, but YOU!) simple and blind and clueless to it all.
By the way, while I'm ranting: Just because you drive a hybrid does not make you a better person than me. You drive a hybrid because you want people to think that you are socially conscious and because its "in" to be "green". You drive it for all the wrong reasons. Sure, you're not fouling the environment like I am with my petrol-ingesting, carbon-spewing Audi, but you bought your Camry hybrid to look down your nose at every one else that doesn't drive one, and to fulfill yet another shallow egocentric desire. Your rationale is ill founded, and you don't score any Earth Day points with me....Meanwhile, your other car is a Cadillac Escalade! Get the fuck out of my face, you self-serving, pseudopragmatic prick. If you're going to scold me today (Earth Day, remember?) for driving a gas burning auto, at least have the decency to drop your cigarette butt in the trash bin, mmm kay?
Spaceship Earth, indeed! Since it's St. Patrick's Day, I think I'm gonna go get plowed on some green beer....right after I clean up the waterway behind YOUR house...
I'm near the end of my rope. It's the same rope I've used to throw you a lifeline, and I can cast and reel it no longer. I've poured my time, effort, heart and soul into helping make you well. I've put my life on hold for you; for us. My career has suffered, my family and other relationships have suffered, and now, my own health is in jeopardy in attempting to save you from yourself.
My energy is waning; the light of my hopes for you and for us, dim. I can't help you if you won't help yourself. I'm weary of this fight.
Faint visions of what might have been...
A dream of loving bliss; one we all share,
perhaps fortunate enough to have been fulfilled.
Within the grasp of a withered hand,
fingers grotesquely gnarled,
scars of hope carved into your palm,
smooth from the repetition of your pain;
I am crucified in your battle,
yet you are the martyr.
We die as one,
dignity,
none
I was reading this post over at my friend, IG's place. It reminded me of a dark and hidden secret, buried deep within the confines of this man's non-metaphoric closet....
About ten years ago, I attended my most recent wedding. Yes, 10 years ago. Since then, it has, as IG pointed out, been all funerals. The last wedding I attended was in 1998. It was the nuptials of one of the groomsmen in my own ill-fated wedding, and...the seventh wedding I had attended in 15 months. From August 1996 to January of 1998, I attended no less than seven weddings. SEVEN. Sure, it was 10 years ago and my feeble, middle-aged mind is prone to errors these days--especially when it comes to dates and numbers. How am I so sure I attended seven weddings in such a short time? Couldn't it have been four or five weddings??? No. Here's how I know it was seven:
After the SEVENTH wedding in 15 months, I finally got tired of spending $80-$125 on the rental of a tuxedo. I began shopping for a tux to own, figuring it to be a good investment. Ten years ago, tuxedos were selling for mmmm maybe $300 to a little less than $1000. Not being one to ever shy away from a prudent investment, and always believing that you get what you pay for, I shelled out $820.55 for my custom-tailored, designer label tuxedo in 1998. That's close to $1500 in "today's dollars", my friends. The receipt was still in the left breast pocket, placed there the last day I wore that tuxedo...
By the way, it was the same day that I took it home to try it on for the first (and last) time. (I thought about wearing it to a funeral a couple of years ago, but thought it might be in poor taste... :P )
So, last month, after 10 years....I was finally invited to another wedding. I almost forgot that I even had a tuxedo! I proudly pulled it from the dark depths of my closet, where it had been pushed around on the rung--left and right, side to side-- for ten years. My hand shook as I slowly, carefully removed it from its protective garment bag; a complimentary gift from the oh-so-generous and grateful tux shop owner. I glanced at the label on the cover...It had the shop name, the shop owner's name, and the phone number to the tux shop. There was no area code in front of the first seven numbers....Did I mention how long ago I bought this infernal enviable piece of Saturday afternoon in June garb to wear while sweating profusely and trying to drink the price of my wedding gift in vodka and rum fashion?? Well, it was TEN effin years ago, mm k?
I wasn't overly concerned about the fit. I can proudly say that my vanity has served me well. I can still fit into my Navy Choker White uniform
and flight suits from 15 years ago, so how could this, from a mere ten years ago, not fit? Still, after so long, will it serve me well after sitting idle in the recesses of my closet? There it sat, among the 3/4 sleeve Aerosmith Nine Lives Tour, Oasis USA Tour concert shirts and Atlanta Olympics souvenirs....FOR TEN YEARS.
I carefully pulled the pants on, one leg at a time and held my breath as I fastened the clasp at the waist. Meh....a little tight, but not uncomfortably so, by any stretch (haha). 31 inch waist then, 32 now. Not bad... Next, a crisp white tux shirt...never worn and crying out to be christened on an impromtu dance floor..."Ce - le - brate - good - times, come on!" Then, the cummerbund--underused and overstated in even the most formal of functions, then and now!
Completing the ensemble (there's really no other word for it....) the bowtie, and finally: the jacket. As I placed my right arm in, I felt the cool fibers of the silk, lining the inside of the sleeve. They let out a collective cheer, knowing it was just a matter of a few short weeks until their function would finally be fulfilled...fashionably housing the biceps beneath, as I display my white man's disease to "We are Fam - i - ly"... c'mon. You know you want to dance with me...
I slipped my left arm in its sleeve, and rolled my shoulders to ensure ample space for "dance movement". I wryly smiled at my fortune, and glanced at myself in the mirror. What a stud I am! Still got it! I playfully flexed a couple of times and winked at myself. With The Macarena booming in my head, somewhere in the depths of my mind...almost as deeply hidden as the long forgotten tux in my closet, I danced around ineptly, but happily. I looked in the mirror again, making sure the fit and look were good after a ten year slumber. It was. Joy! Oh, the satisfaction at a successful $800 investment made so many years ago! .... The ego-pump of fitting in this custom made tuxedo made for my 30 year old body!!!
As my jubilation slowly waned, I took one last glance in the mirror ---We Are the Champions resounding triumphantly in my mind. I raised my arms in celebration, and......
promptly ripped both sleeves out at the shoulder....
...
oh, you mutha eff....Wait...
...
...
...
Wahoo! Apparently my deltoids are bigger today than they were ten years ago!!!
you'll appreciate the humor in this. Even if you haven't, its not hard to see where the creator is coming from. This was originally posted on a European website some time ago. It was discussing some of the challenges of integrating Italy into the European Common Market. I love Italy...visiting Italy that is. This short film (less than 3 minutes) goes a long way to explaining why I could never live there.
(make sure your sound is on)
http://tcc.itc.it/people/rocchi/fun/europe.html
...by the way, no offense is intended. I think you can substitute many nationalities into this film and still have it ring true. Hell, the cartoon was created by an Italian poking fun at his own culture, so don't PM me about how offended you are, k?
This rings true in so many aspects of our lives, no? I admit to missing it, though it was right there--plain as the Irish nose on my face.
Not too long ago, I realized my new girlfriend is bulimic. I had some casual suspicion about 6 weeks ago around the Holidays, and confirmed that she was purging many of her meals about 3 weeks ago. Since that time, I've been searching the internet and reading books on the subject, trying to become informed on bulimia...all the while hoping that maybe she just didn't want to gain the typical 5 pounds around this time of year, that each of us struggles with. Maybe, she just wanted to get back to her "normal weight" after going from 120 to 125, and, while I didn't think it was the safest or best way to go about it, it would stop. Of course, it hasn't...
Thus, if I haven't intervened or confronted her with it, I am nothing less than an enabler. I have an acute disdain for enablers, and it is not in my character to be this person. In my opinion, enablers are weak and are far less worthy of sympathy than those that are the afflicted. Whether you are a spouse turning a blind eye to the nightly 12 pack consumed on the couch, a sister ignoring the signs of physical abuse to a sibling or any other person living in denial, make it stop today. TODAY. Its not right that we allow our loved one to kill themselves or be killed/harmed by another. I don't plan to play this role any longer. 20 days is far too much already. I'm through being the enabler.
Don't judge me or her. I am here seeking your help before I confront her. This weekend, she fainted in the airport. Though we didn't discuss it specifically, I know it was primarily due to the fact that she had purged her dinner from the night before, and us not having enough time to grab breakfast before heading out into the nightmare of post-9/11 airport woes. I refuse to stand by or look the other way another day.
Before you give me your feedback, I'll give you a bit of background that may or may not be helpful....For those of you that are in my hood, you know I maintain my anonymity, and its for exactly this type of situation. I can essentially put myself and my life out there...naked for you all to see and judge and comment, without fear of reprisal, direct contact, judgement or confrontation by someone in my "real life". And, today, my friends, I need you. I am physically strong and relatively intelligent and yet I have been crippled by this dilemma....
We've been dating about 4 months now. She's 30 years old and not fond of no longer being "in her twenties". (I thought this was cute, initially, but its obviously symptomatic of her disease....) We were physically attracted to one another first, but I don't think that's necessarily relevant or unique. Over the last few weeks, we've spent more time together. She sleeps at my place about 3-4 nights a week, usually when I don't have my daughter with me overnight. Its been the recent proximity of the relationship that has allowed me to confirm that she is indeed bulimic. She purges her meals about 80% of the time. The ones that she does not purge are typically either small meals or something healthy. Keep in mind that neither of us regularly eat junk like fries or ice cream. Some of you might argue that its dysfunctional just to deny myself fries and ice cream if I really want to eat them. I would argue that I simply don't want to unwind a week's worth of workouts for a single order of artery-clogging Biggie fries. Besides, I will have fries a couple times a month-- I just won't overdo it, you know? We are both admittedly vain and care about our appearances. I know this is the foundation of her bulimia.
We have been working out together lately also. She was a regular at spin class (about 4 times per week) and I, the alternating runner/weight lifter. While it is important to me to look good, it is far more important to me to be healthy. I work out religiously to (hopefully) maintain my level of health through my later years. I have many big dreams and plans for my 50's, 60's and beyond, that I have had since I was a youngin'. I don't want them compromised by my physical inability, and so I work hard today to live life to its fullest tomorrow. Anyway, my point in bringing this facet of our relationship up is my concern that I may have created or at least, contributed to her bulimia.
I know she cares for me deeply. I care for her as well. Its far too early for me to be in love with her, but I do care for her deeply. About a week ago, she told me that she loves me, and that is the twisted crossroads where I now find myself. My elation at her devotion has been tempered by her secret, now gnawing at my own psyche.
She knows it is of significant importance that my partner be physically fit to accompany me for the rest of this life's journey. At this point in my life, I won't compromise that. When it became increasingly difficult for her to commute to her gym (as she began to spend more time at my place-about 45 minutes away) she started to work out with me. While she's been a spinner/cycler, she's never been a runner. Her competitive nature, which I admire, drove her to try to keep up with my workouts, and she became somewhat frustrated, despite the fact that I encouraged her and praised her progress. But, let me make this very clear: I never pushed her to workout more or to try to keep up with me, or to be thin. I've never made any reference to her weight at all. I simply encouraged her progress and her efforts. She was fit before we started dating, and I know she attended both spin and yoga classes regularly. So, did her bulimia start when she could no longer maintain her weight through these channels or was it there all along and I just discovered it??? I guess when she became bulimic is of little importance to the main issue....How should I confront her?
And, then....there is my K. My beautiful and brilliant K....all of 10 years old: very much in love with my new girlfriend (or perhaps just happy for her Dad) ---I dont know whether to put a ;) or a :) or a :( here --- But, she is also quite impressionable at 10 going on 16, and I cannot let this disease corrupt her. I won't stand for it. I can't. I'm a father before all else.
I don't want or need a dissertation about how the media or print advertising or men dictate disfunctional behavior in our women. I know the swimsuit model mentality can be dangerous and is usually not attainable nor in the best interest of women. The "perfect woman" has been fabricated by Hollywood or clothing designers or some other capitalist society money maker. I know this and I don't care to delve into the depths of this topic now. What I need is advice and guidance.
How do I assist her without potentially jeopardizing our relationship? Can I do so? She's sick and bulimia is a disease. With it, frequently comes denial...no different than a drug addict or alcoholic. If I intervene and she leaves me, due to embarassment or denial or shame, have I done enough? How do I see it through to knowing she will be done with it if she leaves me? Do any of you have personal experience? I'd encourage you to PM me, if you don't care to bare your soul in the comments. I am concerned for her well being first, and our relationship second. She's an amazing young woman with a very bright future. I need to save her from herself. Help me do it...
Does anyone remember the Captain Eo, 3-D movie at Disney/Epcot back in the late 80's? I haven't had any remote or abstract thought about anything even resembling Captain Eo in twenty years. The last brain wave I generated (wasted) in lucid thought on the subject of Captain Eo, was probably the first (and last) time I saw the movie at Epcot some 20 years ago. Somehow, my twisted mind decided to dream about Captain Eo last night. It prompted me to go to Wikipedia and read the Captain Eo entry, here. Surprisingly, or should I say, miraculously, my dream was almost identical to the original plot line and included two of the main characters by name--Hooter and the Supreme Leader.
 Captain EO |
 Fuzzball |
 Hooter |
 Major Domo |
 Odee and Idee |
 Supreme Leader |
I saw this movie ONCE. It lasted 17 minutes. (I only know this from the Wiki entry. Apparently it STILL ranks as the most expensive production per minute!) I didn't like Michael Jackson then, and I don't like Michael Jackson now. Why would my mind play THIS back, of all things I experienced 20 years ago? Why, oh why, couldn't that have stayed supressed forever??? My late teens and early 20s were some of the best years of my life. Why this? Why now????
I know what you're thinking: What mind altering illegal substance did Crush take last night? Nothing. I didn't even have a glass of red wine or a sip of my beloved MacCallan. I drank water all night. I didn't even eat Mexican for dinner.
....I'm effed up. I know this. You don't have to tell me so. I'm the one that has to live with this twisted mind...
