You Know Where You Are With

Let down and hanging around...

A sublime song from the archives for the Earworm du Jour. Judging from the number of times I've listened to it I can say the most heartwrenchingly stunning vocals I've probably ever heard start right around the 4 minute mark (with a nice intro starting at 0:01).

It's the lovable Thom harmonizing with himself.

Take Me Away From Here

Nice try. I commend her efforts.

Float

I adore this photo by Doug DuBois, called "My Father." Look at those toes! It's reminscent of my own memories of floating out in the Atlantic with my grandmother and grandfather. I always thought we were just like big seagulls out there bobbing along with the incoming waves.

This is just one of many photos for sale at Art for Obama. For those of you with some clams to spare, get to bidding! The auction ends October 10th. Oh, that's today!

And the Air Turns Creamy

Here's an old earworm fave that made the shuffle rounds today. It's "Lovedust" by Luna. This song was an inexplicable catalyst for my desire to move to a big city. For serious. Or else it happened to be playing the very moment the desire bug hunkered itself into me bones. I remember it really well... sitting at a listening station in my favorite record shop in Durham's Brightleaf Square. Millenium Music, I think it was called. I was there but was suddenly elsewhere as this song sent an atmospheric cityscape surging through me. And I just knew. I was bigger bound. I think I was visualizing NYC at the time, but Chicago it would ultimately be....

Hoopty

Under the guise of a work-related conference she just couldn’t miss, my sis got a free ticket to visit Chi-town for a few days (yay! way to buck the system!). When I sat down last night to figure out what adventure-in-public transport would take her from my place in Wicker Park to her conference in the burbs of Oak Brook, I discovered there is no good way to get from one spot to the other sans car. Doh.

Then my neighbor had the good sense to remind me that I have a car that maybe my sister could borrow. Hello. My car’s stick shift, so most people can’t drive it (a blessing and a curse), but then I remembered that I learned stick because I thought it was cool that my sister drove stick (and because the family Escort, a.k.a. “the brown nugget,” was handed down to me, and I had no choice whatsoever).

Problem solved. except for the small issue of my car being a piece. It’s no Escort, but it has… shall we say…. quirks. We could start with the clutch that creaks like an old lady’s rocking chair. Then move to the windshield wipers, which don’t actually make contact with the windshield . Let’s not forget the sun visor that flops in my face and won’t stay up. And my all-time fave… the driver side window, which was permanently raised shut after it fell out a few times. Either I put up with annoyed looks from tollbooth and fastfood workers or I seriously cramp my entertainment budget. No brainer.

Hell, at least I finally replaced the hubcap that fell off after the Firestone f'rs failed to properly reattach it. I grew weary of pulling up to depositions and strategically parking to conceal the lone black tire. I'm pretty sure my coworkers were really impressed when the big box arrived at the office with “INEEDAHUBCAP.COM” plastered all over it. Classy.

Even with all these adorable eccentricities, I drive so seldom that I’m prone to forgetting about (ignoring) them.... So this morning my sister and I went about our morning in typical pre-caffeinated, close-quartered, scatter-brained fashion. It’s a wonder we didn’t blow something up. But without explosion, we managed to get her into my car with directions and the all-important coffee in hand. I did notice that she sat in the car for awhile before leaving, but shrugged it off when she finally took off.

I got a call from her a little while ago giving me the good news that she made it. But not without a few problemos. um. I chuckled when she told me she'd forgotten my car was stick until she got in and couldn't figure out why it wouldn't start. I giggled when she said it took her awhile to remember how to drive stick since it's been, oh, FIFTEEN years since her last go at it. I cackled when she said she missed one of her exits because she was busy fighting with the sun visor dangling in her face. And I went hyena-style when she told me she held up traffic at the toll booth while frantically trying (and failing) to roll down the window. I laughed so loud my office-neighbor peered in to make sure I was okay.

Poor sister. Sorry sister. On a positive note, the hubcaps look real nice on there. Pretty fancy. I think she's going to appreciate her nice new Lexus all the more when she gets home.

Finn and Dandy

How could I forget to mention that seeing The Veils last week was dandy times dandy. Ideally they would have played their entire discography, but they were the opener, and they performed in a tee-tiny theater and stood mere feet away from my lovin' ears. Alas... much like the adorable homo heckler who deliriously screamed out his appreciation during the show, "I couldn't have been happier than I [was] in that moment!!"

I actually met Finn Andrews before the show whilst he sucked down a ciggy and again after whilst... he sucked down another ciggy. Finn is the caboose in a train of musicmen I've "met" here and there over the years. "Met" having a wide variety of definitions, such as "making ass of self with" (Mike Skinner), "translating French boyfriend's nonsensical statements to" (Libertine's bassist), and the awe-inspiring "dating the roadie of" (no name needed), to name a few. Most recently there was Andrew Bird, who nearly tripped over my dog's leash coming out of the local hipster shop. I apologized, he ignored me and proceeded to speed-walk to his Honda Element. Be not afraid, Bird, I was merely following your skinny arse, not stalking you. Big diff. Besides, we've met before... the time I stood beside him after a show, and that other time he stood near me at Lula while we waited for brunching space. Yeah, we're BFF.

Most of these encounters leave me oddly tongue-tied, which was pretty much the case with darling Finn. It's not that I think they're super human (though I usually think them pretty super), but there's something weird about me recognizing them, them not knowing me from eve, and steamrolling them with excited conversation all the same. Not that I'm ever one to steamroll anyone with conversation, but in those cases I often get particularly frozen in a flurry of taciturnity. Unless I'm good and drunk. Which I was not in this case. Even after a few shots of Tequila (sad attempt at reliving Mexico).

Luckily D was there to pick up my sobering overanalytical pieces, thereby qualifying this one as an official meet and greet. Well done, D. Finn made polite conversation through puffs of smoke and told us the next album should be ready by March. Other meaningless conversation ensued, but who cares. He's handsome, breakably skinny, less effeminate than I imagined, and his bassist, Sophia (Finn's grammar school pal), was awkward cuteness at its best, both in person and hunched over on stage. Dandy indeed.

Bonne Idée

I love this inexpensive idea for decorating a big wall with something other than framed art. Just a box of pretty-colored tacks and a bunch of these flower thingies from a craft store... Et Voilà ~ indoor floral ivy!

found on ffffound

Me likey.

PSA

Fleet of Feet

I returned home from Jersey to find that the dingo molted during my absence. My apartment was a veritable desert of tumbleweeds in the form of white fluffy furballs. I couldn't touch anything without said body part coming up covered in fur. Odd time for a dog to profusely shed, no? Is it like a groundhog telling me winter is not actually on its torturous way to me? Hooray!!

I popped in the Fleet Foxes to help me through my cleaning frenzy, and it was surprisingly motivational. Motivational enough to get me to wash my sofa cover thingy, and that, my dears, is sayin' a lot.

The vid above is for "Ragged Wood," and here's one for "White Winter Hymnal." Then there's this song I've never heard before from the Black Cab Sessions.

If you've never checked out the Black Cab Sessions, do, oh do! Such a cool idea, me thinks. Some favorites: a ride with The National, Britt Daniel from Spoon, Death Cab for Cutie, and Lykke Li too.

Jerz

Just back from a weekend at the Jersey shore. Jerz gets a bad rap, but don't knock it - the southern beaches are quite lovely. Cape May. Avalon. Stone Harbor. Ocean City... they all reside in an unnaturally warm section of my heart, since we spent one month every summer growing up in nearby Sea Isle City. Our routine was -in retrospect- comically regimented, and each day of that month was nearly identical to the one before and after it. And yet. It rarely grew tiresome.

During that month the six of us (seven when dad joined) piled into Grams and Gramps's beach house, which had three bedrooms and ONE BATHROOM (do the math. many a plunger were plunged and many a match struck). Morning started with a bowl of cereal, unless Gramps decided to hit the bakery and bring back the most scrumptious cream-filled donuts I'd ever before (or since) sunk my teeth into. I'd lay in bed listening to the kitchen commotion to determine if it was a donut day. If it was, I'd rise suspiciously earlier than usual and take my place at the table. Next came a sunscreen slathering followed by a long walk down the beach. Lunch sandwiches were carefully prepared by Grams and Gramps ~ who introduced me to PB and marshmallow fluff (bless them) and the infamous and mysterious-in-a-real-bad-way "pimento loaf" (thanks for driving me to early vegetarianism).

Then came hours upon hours of beach time. My brother and I smashed world records in wave riding, paddle ball hits, and pruney fingers while older sis scoured the beach for boyfriend du season. Dinner was usually preceded by fights over the outdoor shower queue, and nights were spent on the boardwalk, shopping, bike riding, ice cream spooning at the old fashioned ice cream shop, watching TV or movies and reading many a book. One month after it all began, the family piled into the car and returned home to our regular life with blond hair and tans (the likes of which nobody who looked at me now would ever dream possible).

Good memories. My parents returned to Sea Isle to celebrate dad's recent retirement, and there I followed to see my parents and grandparents and -I confess- to take advantage of the free oceanfront condo... and... consume as much seafood as I possibly could within two days time. My dad, who was recently diagnosed with a deadly carrot allergy after consuming copious amounts of carrots within a short time (no kidding) grew sincerely concerned that I would soon join him with an allergic reaction to crab. He was right to worry. I went crab crazy. She-crab soup, crab salad, crab omelette, crab-stuffed scrimps. What can I say, I miss me some fresh seafood out here in the middle of the GD country and had to make up for lost time. I also threw in a philly chicken cheese steak, clam chowder and Chik-Fil-A nuggets for good measure. I spotted that Chik-Fil-A sign at the Philly airport, and I'm pretty sure my eyes widened and glazed and I silently mouthed the words as my body instinctually bee-lined for it. Like a beacon in the night.

It's a good thing we spent two hours speed-walking along the beach. Otherwise I'm not sure I would have had any pants to wear to work this week.


Gorgeous photo c/o Karl Strauss. To see more go to Lenscratch.

Dissever

I'm feeling a little like that gummy bear at the moment. Finally finished the second half of the plaintiff's deposition that started late last month. The thing went 7 hours all told. Highly unusual in light of the low level of complication, but probably speaks to my inexperience and the plaintiff's penchant for non-stop ramblings (useful at times, brain-burning at others). There were some awkwardly funny moments (discussing the changes in the "motion of the ocean" with a 66-year-old man comes to mind), but I'm too brain-blur-overloaded to elaborate at the moment.

But.... there's been a buttercream frosting-coated carrot (gross) dangling before me all day to help me through. That's right, my night with The Veils is finally upon me, and I couldn't be more excited! Unless I won the lotto, in which case a lot of things would change around here. Feeling very glad I scheduled the dep for today and not tomorrow. Now I can enjoy me some Finn Andrews & Co. hook, line and sinker.

Will report back tomorrow...