Kitchen Caption

#1

Josh (on right): This scented geranium has green veins on yellow leaves. I suggest we check if the compost is waterlogged. Or perhaps it is heat-induced iron chlorosis? It has been humid lately.

Jammin (on left): My grandfather used a cane reminiscent of these hooks. He saw it fit to end the family dog’s life once it caught latin madness.

#2

Jammin: I have considered the various irony’s of existence and am convinced that embrancing socialism is the only way this generation shall survive.

Josh: Annnd hashtag Ivy….Blue….Carter. Send. I’m sorry, what’d you say Jammy?

I'M BATMAN

New Seasons

I woke up Monday morning, clinching my big chair-arm shaped pillow* like it were a person, and not wanting to go to work. Of course, I had to, but not before I realized my keys was misplaced. So I pitched a fit, stole my neighbor’s Land Rover, and drove it off the side of 75/85, just a mere 1 exit before 10^th street.

*2 different people told me that thosethings are called “husbands” or “boyfriends” respectively. I have mixed (BUT NOT INTOLERANT) feelings.

I didn’t do that. I asked a roommate to drop me off. This kind of thing is all too common on Monday mornings. I blame it on Breaking Bad and HBO. Never have I been so engrossed in several hours of TV in my life, exceptfor the first few seasons of Lost, to whichI look back on enormous distain, like I would of a bad sexual decision.

Last Sunday’s Breaking Bad was incredible. I’ve had many conversations with my Dad about how this show has been built so that you expect ANYTHING. At one point I would have put a couple twenties on the idea of Walt leaving the show for the last of this season and most of next, only to return as a badass head of a cartel. Then at one point I felt Hank’s death was due very, very soon. That’s not entirely out of the question right now, but I was more confident a few episodes ago. Nevertheless, that showdown between Walt and Jesse in Walt’s house was so aesthetically stressful for me; I had a hard time watching. Well done.

There is nothing more to say about Breaking Bad that Alan Sepinwall doesn’t say every week on his genius BB column over at Hit Fix. Check it out.

Sunday night was also the premier of HBO’s How to Make it in America and Hung. Hung is an interesting show. The first couple of season have been mildly amusing, in that HBCO way. You know, that hmm-that’s-clever and oh-there-are-the-boobs HBO thing. Entourage is the best example. Total fratboy humor, using f-bombs and off-the-cuff insults to create the illusion of comedy. And Hung was different, in the sense that it deals with older characters. But unlike Entourage where the promise of nudity was coveted, it’s in the premise of Hung to deliver it every episode. And it does, I suppose, but I mean, that makes it all the more fleeting. Hung had a chance to be a genuine character piece, but now that Ray (Tom Jane) has accepted that yes, he is a prostitute and that’s what he does, I feel like the show has lost a tad bit of steam. The season 3 premiere was a little desperate – but perhaps that’s its aim. Tanya is incredibly annoying, she always has been. But there is a loveable aspect to her bipolar insecurities, and that makes her presence forgivable. Not entirely on the other h

and, Lenore continues to be a purposely self-serving bitch, one who’s motives are clearly only geared to draw the viewer’s hatred. The entire 2^nd season painted her as being completely, enthusiastically evil. The back and forth chemistry of her and Tanya torturing one another is absolutely the best part of the show, and as of the premiere’s conclusion, it only makes sense of the direction this season is going to go: Lenore brings competition male hooker competition.

Hands down, I’ve always felt Hung would benefit from being an hour-long show, not a quick 30 minute attention grabber like Entourage or Showtime’s soul-sucking Californication. For a show that is not entirely a comedy, the dimensions that an extra half hour a week could bring would be welcome.

How to Make it in America, on the other hand, shouldn’t be taken as anything more than entertainment in the most Entourage way possible. The first season was short and sweet, leaning heavily on the buddies-forever chemistry of the two leads. And that’s it. Louis Gusman is always a badass, and his role as Rene really seems like one he’s having fun with. But that’s it. The cliffhangers of each episode in season one were cheap but fun enough to bring you back. But then suddenly they became what my roommate calls an “aww, shucks” ending. Those guys! Those craaazy guys! They sure were in a mess, huh? Everything’s cool. That’s it. The premiere of season 2 was in the same vein, and frankly after the Entourage series ending, I’m sick of that. So much has been blogged about the end of Vince and the guys, and how it sucked or was allowed to suck, but from someone who followed Entourage since high school, it was tough to see how the show didn’t mature along with my friends and I.

Life as we Know It

Hey Blog, man.

Been a while, my most humble apologies. Yesterday was a company-wide volunteer day. Yeah, I know. I've gone corporate. Sold out. Artistic integrity ceases to exist. Whatever cliches it may conjure, my company ended up sending me to the Center for Puppetry Arts, a place I haven't been since I was 8 years old.

I've never experienced nostalgic at this magnitude in my life. My memories of the Center were of a HUGE cavernous museum and stage--but now it was tiny. The Jim Henson exhibit is only one room, and the "puppets of the world" part wasn't near a maze of childhood nightmares like I remember it. Although it was pretty creepy.

That got me thinking. Perceptions of size obviously change as one grows, and maturity brings another element of approaching events. But what kind of environment would it take to synthesize how that museum felt when I was 8? I'm not talking about the size of everything, but what if it were possible to put all kinds of things in place, adjusted just right to match my maturity now, so that I still felt the magic and terror of a huge museum and puppet show?

Argh. I would probably be more disturbed by it than I was then.

Anyway, Jim Henson was a genius. The muppets have such long-term appeal, and much of it relies on the accessible humor. I can't wait for the new movie and hope Jason Segal brings them justice.

Mike Gordon and Big Sam

What goes through a musician's mind? How does Mike Gordon zone in on an extended improvisation then concentrate on an intricately composed section in the same song? How is it affected by playing in massive arenas with Phish, then moving to smaller clubs for a solo band show?

I don't want to interview, I want to BE Mike Gordon.


To some extent, the same goes for Big Sam's Funky Nation. I've seen him play with much bigger NOLA groups like Galactic, but his band gave a supercharged performance nonetheless. Life on the road. How does it feel? Whats the sleep reschedule like? Stuart Copeland wrote in his autobiography that it's on par with emerging from a cave each day and being in a new town, where the dressing rooms, stages, crowds and people all begin running together and the redundancy leaves much to be desired.

But man, to be on stage.

Big Sam's Funky Nation, Smiths Olde Bar, 3/31/11
Mike Gordon Band, Center Stage ATLANTA 3/19/11

"This is all new here, and it has been for some time."

To a packed out Variety Playhouse, Leo Kottke is the most enduring man anyone there has ever known. Hes the mischievous uncle and the highlight of a family reunion. Hes the enduring college friend that social circles quietly bicker over. He is also an amazing 6- and 12-string guitar player.

He's Bill Evens on guitar. Thats the only comparison I can think of. Evans technique sounded like he was taking a bucket of liquid and gently pouring it out all over the exposed core of a piano. Likewise Leo's playing is so smooth and natural, somewhere between the sound of running water and a fire hose. I can't put my finger on it.

But this night was a special one, too, besides Leo's charming attention deficit disorder or masterful playing. I met a father and son that graciously offered Suzy and I a seat next to them because they saw the Phish shirt I was wearing. They were both big fans, and quickly engaged me in a surprisingly extensive conversation on music in general. The son was an obviously socially-reluctant person; his remarks on Phish, BB King and other live acts were self-conscious and quiet - but he was obviously impressed that he could chat with someone who was very familiar with the subject. As he talked he began sweating profusely, something I didn't find alarming until he remarked that he was uncomfortable and had to leave.

"He won't admit it," his father said quite openly to me after the son had excused himself "but he's an amazing musician. Every instrument. He's a brilliant guy. Used to be into some bad stuff, drugs, and he has had some psychological problems in the past. But hes a brilliant guy.

He's awesome, I said. I'm glad somebody agrees that Phish's '95 New Years-eve version of Reba is one of the best ever.

"Yeah, he loves Phish. But he's a Baptist minister now, so he don't get to talk as much about it."

I was pretty surprised. I told him that I was raised Baptist too.

"Well, we all gotta be something, ain't it the truth?"

Strange. I still don't know why the son was sweating hard and why he got up. He never came back after he excuse himself a second time before Leo's encore. But for a moment while we were clapping, the father grabbed and told me something I have never gotten credit for in my life. He told me that it warmed his heart to see a young couple, Suzy and I, enjoying good music.

"It truly touches me. Its something I always prided myself with passing to my own son. Young people deserve to hear music like this. I mean that."

Thanks for Phish's Mike Gordon for introducing me to Leo Kottke and for Leo Kottke for introducing me to the man that gave me one of the most sincere and refreshing compliments I have have ever received.

Phish in Charleston voted Best of the Year

Charleston City Paper voted last year’s Phish 2-nighter at North Charleston Coliseum the best of the year. I couldn’t agree more.

The show was General Admission, which can be a good and bad thing for Phish show. Meaning more people on the floor = less elbow room and claustrophobia. But it also means you can catch the band and Chris K’s amazing light show from a different angle.

The crowd's energy was spectacular, from friendly people in the parking lot to everybody rushing out to wave the tour buses goodbye.