The Voices In My Head

A stunning number of people have asked me, lately, what type of music I am listening to these days. This isn't a question I really expected to have to answer much after about age 28. You know? I don't mind my pre-school aged daughter asking me what my favorite color is, but I don't expect people I encounter in my professional life to ask me what five albums I would take on a desert island. We are, after all... um... not 17. You'd think I had dyed my hair purple and started wearing leather to work... "So, you seem a little different lately... Are you taking drugs? (No.) Did you join a cult? (No.) Have you changed your music listening habits?"

No, not really, but I did get satellite radio a few months ago and I do dig the music channels. Tonight, I burned a CD for my wife with a sampler of some of the funky and cool music that makes the charts on some of the not-exactly-top-40 channels, such as Sirius 21 - Left of Center, in particular. I will now list the songs and artists on that CD, and will refer all inquiries about my current music listening habits, to this site (actually, there's not a chance on earth I'll ever refer any one in my real life, other than family and about three very good long-time friends, to this site). Readers are invited to preview works by these artists on services such as iTunes or Yahoo! Music, and may find that some of these are gems. I have no idea whether these folks get much airplay outside of Sirius.

(In some cases, you may want to look for the "Radio Edit" version if your service offers one. Asterisks noted in some cases.)

Bright Eyes ("First Day of My Life") -- Relatively gentle guitar and vocals. Guy has a cool voice. I like the lyrics.

Regina Spektor ("Better") -- Slow-ish, steady rock tempo with captivating, swinging/vaulting vocals.

Emiliana Torrini ("Sunny Road") -- Slow and mild guitar and vocal. Not sure why I like it. Something about her voice or the lyrics, I think.

* The Streets ("Dry Your Eyes") -- Mild rythym and vocals. The cascading (tangling?) lyrics are more spoken than sung, in a heavy British accent.

* Arctic Monkeys ("A Certain Romance") -- Much heavier rock tempo and energy than all of the foregoing. Heavy British accent. Fun and upbeat.

Ladytron ("Destroy Everything You Touch") -- Entertaining new techno/ dance pop.

The Knife ("Silent Shout") -- Ditto.

Snow Patrol ("Hands Open") -- Kinda fits back up there with Arctic Monkeys, but more along the lines of straightforward, solid contemporary rock, basically.

OK Go ("Get Over It") -- This is not as new as I believe most of the stuff above is. A little noisy and screamy, but I dig the lyrical mania of it.

New York Dolls ("Dancing On the Lip of a Volcano") -- I am still figuring these dudes out. This is, I think, a new incarnation of an old band. Can't decide whether I like the lead singer's voice or consider it a weak point. He's a mix of Warren Zevon and the lead singer of the Ramones, for a start at least.

Saving Jane ("Girl Next Door") -- The beginning sounds like Foo Fighters, but then, quickly, it's 100% not the Foo Fighters. I feel guilty about this one... it could be the theme song from any teen romance movie from the last 15 years. Oh well.

* Panic! At the Disco ("I Write Sins Not Tragedies") -- Fits in with something like The Killers "Mr. Brightside," but with more breaks in the music.

* Lily Allen ("Smile") -- Nice and lyrical with stark and stunningly "earthy" rivets when you least expect it. Definitely watch for a radio edited version if available or you'll get a full-on surprise in the first 10 seconds or so.

Natasha Bedingfield ("Unwritten") -- You've probably heard this one.

She Wants Revenge... Ominous sound with great vocals and "we're taking this very seriously" attitude. Sounds a lot like Interpol.

* Blue October ("Hate Me") -- Solid alt rock tone and tempo, with a rather unique rough vocal quality and style. Portions of the (lengthy) lyrics fall and build on themselves really well. "In a sick way I want to thank you for holding my head up late at night. While I was busy waging wars on myself you were trying to stop the fight."

Flashback: Kim Carnes ("Bette Davis Eyes")

Flashback: The Waterboys ("The Whole of the Moon")

Interpol ("Slow Hands") -- Somehow, to me, this is the best of the 80's and 90's, finally arriving today.

Oh, I Also Wandered Around Looking For Boxes of Junk

Did some geocaching on the trip mentioned below. Don't have access to all my memory sticks at the moment, so here are some photos of just a couple of the four or so I found with relatives during the first part of the trip...


You can imagine, we circled around this one (above) for a while before finally spotting it. This was in Cedar City.

This next one was in Provo (Rock Canyon):



I never did find the one hidden in these rocks. I just couldn't bear to keep looking:


And finally,


While climbing a rock fall in a canyon, nearly to my peril, I found shells, including this one, and remembered that since early childhood I've been finding shells in the mountains in Utah. This calls up memories of early mountain hiking discussions with mom and dad about much of Utah having been underwater until roughly Dad's freshman year in high school, I think it was...

The Back Route Home From the Lake

Spent the last week on the road up in various parts of Utah. Stopovers included Cedar City, Provo, Logan and Bear Lake. It's funny... the whole duration of the trip -- which seemed like a month, not a week, and that in a good way -- I was thinking how profound and meaningful so much of the experiences were along the way, and I figured I'd pour out a pretty lengthy and heartfelt blog entry upon my return home. But as I sit here to type it, it's just not flowing onto the page...

Maybe it boils down to this:

(1) It was really great to get away from the office for awhile. The trip was about 93% free of distractions and work-related brain cycles. This was much needed, and was valuable.

(2) It was really great to re-connect with family I had fallen more or less out of current contact with. This included aunts, uncles and cousins all over the place -- and some siblings too, really. It was remarkably nice to get back into touch with them, spend time with them, eat with them, see their new homes and new family members, etc. In many cases, I was meeting people that were, either actually or effectively, brand new people to me.

(3) It was great to see my daughter thriving, exploring and discovering new people and experiences. She absorbs attention and interaction with as many people as possible, and she seems to love new adventures. It is fun to watch her on trips like this.

(4) It was touching to circle around past places and people I have old memories with, adding a new layer of memories on top of them. Visiting places and people I've known more or less all my life, and doing so with my daughter, who is now as old as I was when I had first contact with these same places and people, was pretty fascinating.

(5) It was amazing to drive through lots and lots of Wide Open Spaces. Without going into too much detail, the trip -- especially the return trip -- was essentially about 14 hours worth of road time that only touched maybe three towns of any non-rural tenor. So, I saw lots, and lots, and lots of Western Scenery. Lot's of mountains. That was a non-trivial experience, pyschologically.

(6) It was exciting to see the front end of long awaited matters finally approaching. This is all about the idea of finally seeing a cabin by the lake come to be. It looks like it may be close. The more it sinks in, the more exciting it is... in ways I never really thought about when it was a more casual and far-off thing. I think it will have impacts and value beyond what I expected.

Incidentally, Provo, Utah has a curious and quirky graffitti problem:

Kubrick to your Scorsese

Hard to express how very, very much I should have spent the last 90 minutes packing and preparing the house for our housesitter, instead of doing this. But alas, it is done.

I Smell Like Spent Ammo

Many of you have been writing in and calling and whatnot to ask how the "snooping around the neighborhood for previously undiscovered good eats" has been going this time, while Girl Sr. and Girl Jr. are away. Well, it's a good question, and I am happy to answer it.

This time, the tour began at a Chinese buffet just down the road. I had been vaguely aware that it existed, since it is -- like everything around here -- in a strip mall. This one happens to be just a few doors down from a place where you can get your empty ink cartridges refilled, which is something I have to do now since Canon no longer sees fit to sell the particular shape and size of ink cartridge I need for my old printer. Somehow, all of the foregoing shaped my expectations and first impressions of the Chinese buffet, which isn't really fair, probably, but it is what it is.

The Chinese buffet features a monstrous sign outside... gigantic red letters that say something like, "CHINESE BUFFET"... possibly 20 feet tall. If not for the fact that the sign faces north and is in English, I would think -- based on the size of it -- that it is intended to be visible from the Chinese mainland, to encourage timid Beijing-ites to go ahead and come on over to America, assured that there will be Chinese food available when they get here.

What can I say. The place was bigger inside than I expected. Possibly the size of a Burlington Coat Factory. It was obvious right away that I had *not* had the misfortune to stumble into a buffet restaurant that had a lot of flies, but it was also clear pretty quickly that I had had the misfortune to stumble into a buffet restaurant where the chicken was going to be of dubious quality and there would probably be a hair in something I ate. I dished up and returned to my table (one nice thing about buffet eateries, when you are solo = no awkward staring at the other guests while you wait for your food to arrive). The chicken came through, doing double-duty: it was not only of questionable quality, it also had a hair in it. I grabbed an orange for dessert, and hit the road. Damage: approx. $12 and a portion of my belief that mankind is inherently decent to one another.

The second place was a tiny Italian place that turned out to be really excellent. It was not only tiny, it was in a strip mall that was itself tiny, and that strip mall had a devil-may-care attitude manifest principally by the fact that the back of the stores were to the road. Odd. Anyhow, the food was excellent, the owner was hanging out by the bar chatting people up, and all the people I eavesdropped on were having truly fascinating conversations. I will go back there, with Girl Sr. The only downside was that in such a tiny place, a $25 bill felt really, really big. A $4.95 salad and $2.45 diet Coke, on top of the $15 sausage and pasta dish, will get you there in a heartbeat.

The third place (is it clear to the reader that these meals were had on successive days, not one immediately after the other?) was a little Thai place located two storefronts down from the excellent Italian place. This was a really good one. The staff all seemed to be about one week off the runway. My server made me feel like I was flirting with her and making her nervous, but I assure the reader, in particular Girl Sr. if she is reading this, which she is not, because my wit, musings and life wisdom don't amuse her as much as I have convinced myself I amuse most others, that I was not. There is a special category of restaurants that have nice decor and table service, but also bring you a glass of ice and an unopened can of diet Coke, for you to open and pour yourself, when you order a diet Coke. It's a "sweet spot" in the food industry, in my opinion. I ordered my dish (a peanut curry with chicken) and she asked (blushing) how spicy I wanted the dish. I told her medium, and she said, as if from rote memory, "Our medium is very spicy here, is that OK." I nodded and smiled aggressively, hoping not to display any of the nugget of fear she had planted inside of me.

The meal was incredibly spicy, and delicious. I filled my plate twice from the service portions and felt like I was inhaling it. My nose ran, my eyes watered and my mouth hurt. But the flavors surrounding the spicy heat were so excellent, I did not want to stop. I eventually called it quits and brought the leftovers home. The leftovers are a conundrum... I have them now from the Italian place and the Thai place. Both meals were excellent and should reheat well. I look forward to them. But I don't want to stop the tour/ search for more good places to eat. I only have so many evenings to press on in this quest.

Oh, the ammo comment... has nothing to do with the spicy meal. I went to the firing range on the way home. Got a little "wild" and reloaded and fired all three magazines once after finishing them the first time, for 78 shots total. Took shots at 25, 20 and 15 feet. Nearly all hit the target, and I had better control than in the past, but still not anything stellar. I fired one magazine of hollow tips, just to see if they feel different. I was actually more accurate with them for some reason I can't figure out. They have a bit more of a pop than the range ammo. Should check the powder details on the boxes. In case there was any doubt, it is clear they don't open or spread much in transit or when hitting a mere paper and styro-plastic backing... they left holes no bigger than the range ammo does. As you'd guess, they must spread open only on impact with something that gives meaningful resistance.

When the Mice are Away

So, the girls are out of town for a little while. When they are gone like this, I am usually either tremendously productive or tremendously lazy. This time it's looking like "productive." Already I am making headway with some solid straightening up around the house, long-neglected errands, etc.

One item high on my list of "stuff that never gets done, which makes me want to pull my (thinning) hair out" has been, for months, cleaning all the clutter out of my car. The trunk and back seat have been a mess. So this afternoon I pulled everything out of the car and into the living room. Here's the initial "dump" into the living room:



I could have sworn there was three times as much as this stuffed away in there, but here it is. I'm about halfway through sorting it. Not sure where I will put the 40% of it that is not trash but also does not belong in the car, seeing how I am trying to de-clutter the house, as well.

Here's how it is looking now, after filling and removing the first couple trash bags...

The Salt Water Was Fine

Today went more or less "ok". We got rolling lazily over the course of 7:30 to 10:30 or so, and then went to the hotel's restaurant for late breakfast. We had a $50 promotional voucher, which we managed to burn through (at $3.50 for orange juices and $2.00 for Diet Cokes, we were off to a running start. $8.50 fruit bowl... you see how we made short work of this). Girl Junior was a bit out of control. So, grumble grumble.

Then we packed up and headed out to the big grassy park where I took several Sedona pictures (Cathedral Rock is nearby) last fall. Sadly, that cool lush, green park is part of the National Forest system and, as such, is still closed due to all the recent forest fires around here. Oh well. We did see a trailer home (ok, a nice trailer home) for sale across the street from the entrance to the park. $320,000 for 1621 square feet. Yowzers.

So, we went to the little city park closer back into Sedona. In some respects, that was just as well... it is somewhat less scenic, but it has play equipment, so Girl Junior got to swing and slide and whatnot. And we kicked a ball around. After this, back to the hotel for swimming, which went fine. Then we took naps. Girl Senior read the whole time, I believe.

After that, we hiked up the hill to the main drag, and chowed down at Oaxaca, a good place we wind up going to pretty much every time we come here. After that, we window shopped a bit, patted a dog, then hiked back down. Made sure Girl Junior realized/ believed we were "hiking" since she keeps saying she wants to hike on the mountains. Saw lots of giant ants (watch out, Girl Junior) and also saw a lizard. Exciting stuff.

Girl Junior and Girl Senior are watching Lassie. I am on the computer in the hotel lobby looking up info about the wild animal park we hope to visit on our ride home tomorrow.

I guess that's all. Insert some profound remark here about how one fascinating thing about parenting is the roller coaster of reactions to your surroundings during the day. Thrilled one moment, raging inside the next. Strapped in. There you have it.

Sedona Donuts

Girl Junior got it in her head that we were going to Sedona for donuts, so, when we got here, we went to get some. It is now the next morning, and she is finishing her donut, sitting on our hotel bed watching "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." She's not crazy about the part where the squirrels put Baruca (Veruca?) down the garbage chute.

Girl Junior slept just fine in a small extra bed in the room last night, wheeled in. It was fairly low to the floor, so a good trial run to see how she does with no sides keeping her from rolling out. That bodes well for travel, a great deal of which lies ahead for her and Girl Senior this month.

So, within what as far as I know is just the past several months, three of five siblings have lept into the tense, stringy embrace of the guitar, in Dad's footsteps. In my case, it has been just the past couple weeks, since Father's Day. But I now have some functional calluses, so I am off and running.

A word or two about Dad's six-string footsteps... I am probably the only sibling who has actual memory of Dad's shirt with the sunset sewn on the back of it. We sang along to a lot of guitar when I was a kid -- I remember really enjoying this. Dad playing, all of us singing. Not sure when I "got too old for that"... I don't think I remember doing this much past maybe... No idea... Age ten or so? Not sure.

The songs we sang..."M.T.A.", "Froggie Went a Courtin'" (before I even knew why it was funny to call him a horny toad), "Pick a Little Talk a Little/ Good Night Ladies", "Tom Dooley"... "My Name is Jan Janssen"... Hmmm... "Day-O (The Banana Boat song)". OK, gang, what songs am I forgetting?

Yes, I am trying to go home.