This Is Where I’m From #4

You go, Scott Hoffman. Scott has organized an anti-bigotry movement in Harrison. From talking to my mom, I hear it’s getting a little split on the issue of homosexuality, but these things take time. For those who don’t know, Harrison, and Northern Arkansas in general, has a near-zero black population and is generally known as a haven for the KKK and other white supremacist groups. It’s a status based more in perception than in actual fact, though. The old urban legend [1] goes that the grand wizard of the Knights of the KKK came into the Harrison post office for bulk stamps for his operation, and they gave him a packge of Martin Luther King, Jr. stamps. Not sure if it’s really true, but I think it exemplifies most of the population’s stance on the issue.

1.) Harrison is rural, so does it still qualify as “urban”?

How Am I Not Myself?

Some notes from the long icy weekend of staying home:

The DVD commentary by writer/director David O. Russell on I ♥ Huckabees is something I highly recommend. It reminds me of a companion study guide as Russell is given the room to expand on the ideas the film presents. When I first saw the movie, I just enjoyed it as a clever head scratcher, plus I went to a late show and was sleepy at the time. I know my date fell asleep, and I think I may have as well. But after watching it again, I realize it’s a great movie for anyone with an interest in Zen or Existentialism or philosophy in general. It’s a great unpacking of a lot of important concepts for modern, thoughtful living.

I also recommend Kentucky Fried Movie.

Much of my weekend was spent in the music room playing either keyboard or guitar. I plowed through a stack of Guitar One back issues. On the piano I discovered something completely new to me: the black keys spell out an E flat pentatonic minor scale. This means that anything you do will sound cool if you use the E flat key as your tonic. Even better, that black keys are raised, so there’s more lattitude for sloppy playing. This struck me as a tremendous metaphor for music in general: the white keys spell out the traditional C Major/A minor scales that form the basis of European classical music while the black keys spell out the pentatonic scale, the basis for all blues and rock music. Ebony and ivory indeed.

I also got my cool, and apparently rare, Quik Lok tiltable keyboard stand last week. It had been on backorder from Sam Ash for so long I had given up hope of pretending I’m Tom Brislin.

Another pleasant surprise: I never noticed my copy of John Coltrane’s Blue Train had a CD-ROM feature. The bad news: the disc is from the mid-90’s. Meaning it wouldn’t work quite right and I think I accidentally installed Quicktime circa 1997. Oh well, a video and tons of audio interviews will make up for that.

And finally, Bill Graham’s vault. So many vintage posters, t-shirts, and more from the late San Francisco promoter/manager extraordinaire. He is generally credited with inventing the rock concert as we know it, and apparently he was quite the pack rat.  While much of it is super-expensive vintage memorabilia, there are some cool reproduction t-shirts that I’m thinking about getting.

The Film of Tomorrow

“The film of tomorrow appears to me as even more personal than an individual and autobiographical novel, like a confession, or a diary. The young filmmakers will express themselves in the first person and will relate what has happened to them. It may be the story of their first love or their most recent; of their political awakening; the story of a trip, a sickness, their military service, their marriage, their last vacation…and it will be enjoyable because it will be true, and new…The film of tomorrow will not be directed by civil servants of the camera, but by artists for whom shooting a film constitutes a wonderful and thrilling adventure. The film of tomorrow will resemble the person who made it, and the number of spectators will be proportional to the number of friends the director has. The film of tomorrow will be an act of love.”

— François Truffaut, published in Arts magazine, May 1957

I couldn’t help but read that through the lens of blogging. In a few more years, blogs may morph into video podcasting for everyone, and then Truffaut will have been 50 years ahead of his time. Bloggers certainly aren’t filmmakers by any stretch of the imagination, but it still seems like an eerily prescient quotation. I also think it applies to my thrilling adventures with digital photography. I’m certainly no civil servant to the camera.

On a related note, I went to Suncoast last night, and DVDs were all 30% off, and I STILL bought nothing. I’m holding out for 50% off because nobody else cares about the DVDs I want (for example, Truffaut films and other snooty Criterion collection discs).

Happy Hallmark® Day!

I took Stinkfoot to the vet this morning because his left front paw doesn’t appear to be working. He’s been hobbling around for a few days. The vet gave him a shot and some antibiotics, and said if he doesn’t improve in a couple of days to bring him back for an x-ray. As I was waiting for the bill I heard a couple of the nurses talking about Valentine’s Day. One of them said, “we don’t do Valentine’s Day. It’s a Hallmark holiday.”

I can see her point. As much as I actually enjoy having a day to spread love around, for those of us who don’t have a significant other it’s a bit depressing. Like Christmas, Thanksgiving and New Year’s, Valentine’s Day is one of those days where single people feel culturally compelled to be doing something special. If we’re not, we’re inevitably depressed. I imagine it’s similar to being a lonely Jew on Christmas.

As a side note, thank heavens for myspace.com, where people can send odd pictures and leave notes for people rather than buy cards or even e-cards (good ones are really hard to find) for Valentine’s Day.

I am a Genius

America loves reality TV. America loves 24-hour news channel punditry. It’s only a matter of time before we combine them together for a series in which a handful of people are chosen to argue with each other, vote each other off the show, and whoever wins gets to become a Fox News pundit.

You heard it here first. It would be like American Idol, only with less beauty and talent.

Followup Songs

McSweeney’s had a good bit not too long ago about follow up songs to one-hit wonders:

How Are We Going to Get These Dogs Back In?

Bust an Additional Move

Seriously, Eileen, Come On

(Won’t You Give Me a Ride Home From) Funkytown?

Remember When You Lit Up My Life? That Was Great

I Will Now Pass the Dutchie Back to You and Thank You for Passing It to Me Originally Because I Really Enjoyed the Dutchie

The Morning That the Lights Came Back On in Georgia

Everybody Was Kung Fu Making Up

Achier Breakier Heart

Whoomp! There It Continues to Be

867-5309 extension 2

We Never Took It and Persist in Our Refusal to Take It

But I figure, why stop at one-hit wonders?

We Have Successfully Received the Funk

Hit Me Baby One More Time, Then Please Stop Hitting Me

I Wanted You to Want Me, But Now Not So Much

It’s Cooler Now, We Should Put Back On All Our Clothes

Feel free to add your own in the comments section.

Who I Am

All week I kept getting these MSN Messenger requests from people I don’t know, so I emailed them asking who they are and how they know me. This was one reply:

“oh im on jessica dycks and taylor bents and allie jones’s hockey team. ur also none as “yellow shirt kid ” ur the boy that my hole team knows about”

Good to know.

Listen to Yourself Churn

Anyone offended by discussions of a gastrointestinal nature may want to skip this entry.

As I approach the 30 year mark on this planet, some physiological changes have made themselves known. I have grey hairs. I hunt them down and kill them, not a big deal. My joints pop more often, so I’m taking glucosamine. The biggest problem, though, and one over which I have no control, is the abdominal noise. The churning after a meal is far noisier than the grumbling beforehand. I can’t stand it. It doesn’t seem to matter what I eat, although a taco salad from Hardee’s was apparently a big mistake today. Does anyone else have this problem, and do you have any recommendations to alleviate it? Do I need a colonic or something?

Perspective

Driving across the river bridge this morning I saw a man walking north in the soutbound lane of the interstate. For those who don’t know, the dowtown river bridge is three lanes on both sides with no room for pedestrians to walk. I noticed the man was carrying a gas can. I then passed by his stalled car just beyond the halfway point of the bridge. For the next two miles I saw the bumper-to-bumper madness, a product of his motionless vehicle in the right hand lane.

That guy knows the blues. To run out of gas on the interstate, on a bridge with no shoulder, and to have to get out of the car, go get gas and come back…that’s about the deepest troubles a motorist can have. At least with an accident, you have it and it’s over. This guy has to continually be in danger just to get some gas. Never again will I complain about having a bad morning.

Another One Bites the Dust

Suncoast, the DVD store in Park Plaza Mall, is closing its doors. This means I will have no other compelling reason to go to the mall beyond Chick-fil-A. This seems to be a pattern in entertainment media – they can’t seem to survive in malls anymore. Retail music stores have all but disappeared from malls, at least in Arkansas. Camelot Music, Musicland, Sam Goody…I’ve seen them all close between here and Missouri. There’s still a Sam Goody in McCain Mall, but I would wager that it will close within the next few years.

Of course the culprits are Amazon.com and Best Buy. I guess it’s just the natural evolution of the business, but I’ll miss the concept of a specialty DVD store. The only other place I can go to get obscure movies is Barnes & Noble, the place that never sells below retail.

Anyway. Going out of business sale at Suncoast. So far, it’s 20% off anything in the store, which in most cases puts the prices close to the Amazon.com rates (but still mostly higher than, say, DeepDiscountDVD.com).