JARHEAD

I went through all of my reading material the first few days in Africa. I found a worn paperback copy of Jarhead in my room and I haven't been able to put it down since. I am not really a big war book fan, but I have read a few spy books and being in a compound surrounded by burly Texans and Scots felt a lot like a few episodes of M*A*S*H, so it felt appropriate. I really had no idea what I was picking up. I seem to recall some sort of furor about it a few years ago, and from the paperback cover I can see that they made a movie about it (I know, I suck. Apparently I was living in a cave at the time) but that is pretty much all the background I had before starting the first page. By the end of the first chapter it was clear that Anthony Swofford is a shit-hot writer and that I was going to get a glimpse into the raw, fragile psyche of a young man who has not only seen and done some serious shit, but who has also done some serious analysis of himself and of the USMC.

The following paragraph from the first chapter has stuck with me for days. Swofford is talking about how, after getting their orders, his unit goes out and gets every war movie they can find and then they sit and watch and drink and get themselves ready for combat. Swofford talks about the ironic fact that our most famous anti war movies, movies that the general population would list as being commentaries on the cruelty and uselessess of war, are actually fuel that fires the murderous agression in these young military minded men.

Filmic images of carnage and death are pornography for the military man; with film you are stroking his cock, tickling his balls with the pink feather of history, getting him ready for his First Fuck. It doesn't matter how many Mr. and Mrs. Johnsons are antiwar--the actual killers who know how to use the weapons are not.

I wonder how Coppola feels about this.

Check him out-Kris Demeanor

I have been following Kris Demeanor for some time now. He probably thinks I am stalking him. Maybe I am, Maybe I am not. I definitely make sure that I see him whenever I can. I planned my Calgary Folk Fest activities around his sessions. I first saw him at Wayne Fest 3, where he wowed my three daughters and their friends with rendition of "Airport Master", which was really Airborne Bastard done with his young neice. I think they were most impressed, as we all were, that his neice knew every single word to an extensive rap commentary, but they did end up learning all the words (including the bad ones). My ex actually went out and bought the CD and we let our oldest listen to it until we heard the lyrics to the next few songs. Ah well, we're liberal parents. I think Kris might just rival my potty mouth.

Anyway, Kris is the ultimate entertainer. He is a musician with soul, he is a brillian lyricist and social commentator, he has the impeccable timing of a stand-up comedian, and he has that special presence about him that makes you just want to watch...and listen.

So, check him out. Buy his stuff. Make him rich.

I am going to see him tonight at the Blue Chair Cafe.

Delicioso

I created my (the) perfect menu item last night at the Sidetrack.
I had a hankerin' for some heuvos rancheros and carne asada (steak) and with the compliance of some bored cooks, I combined their Eggs Jose and steak sandwich (sorry, m.... sammich) to create the glorious...


El Margorita

Check them out-The Dudes

I love The Dudes. Always have, probably always will. And I get to boast that I know them and that my brother in law used to play with them. Pat played music onstage at my wedding. I am not sure anyone remembers. But he did. So there.

The Dudes are pop/rock/punk/satirical genius and hail from Calgary, Alberta. The new album Brain Heart Guitar boasts some remixes of old songs and some pretty freakin' great new ones, including the best pop love song I have heard for years. Check out Do the Right Thing and tell me if it doesn't make you just want to go out and buy a ring, boys.

Other favorites of mine are Mendoza Line and Dropkick Queen of the Weekend, which you can now apparently download as a ring tone. Rumor has it that there are several "friends" of the Dudes who think they are the subject of Dropkick. We all have our suspicions.


Mendoza Line has one of the all-time classiest love lines in rock history.

Back when the rock was sweet and magical
I gave my guitar your name
But now you're in someone else's touring van
And the songs I sing are shame

Beautiful man. Beautiful.

Go out and buy their album right now.

A Meat Whore's Dream...

Two hours from Seattle, over the Snoqualmie pass, lies Ellensburg, WA, and a restaurant so ecclectic and fabulous that it should be on the Food Channel.
Nicholas Cafe is a small, paint-faded side-of-the-road eatery that will blow your socks off. They boast a Muffaletta that people travel from New Orleans to sample and the best cajun food in West Washington. My mom and I shared "The Slammer"; a hamburger patty, a ham steak, a fried egg, bacon, lettuce and tomato on a bun and we substituted the fries for Jalepeno Hushpuppies to die for. My daughter had the best chocolate peanut butter milkshake I have ever tried and my mom and I washed it all down with Ellensburg microbrew.
Yay.
Double Yay.

Washoe

This weekend, I had the special gift of crossing off an item on my "things to do before I die" list.
2 hours from Seattle, Washington, nestled in the desert University town of Ellensburg lives Washoe. Washoe is a 41-year-old Chimpanzee and the first Chimp to be taught ASL back in the 70's. Orginially selected for the space program, Washoe was then selected and raised by Beatrice and Allen Gardener as a deaf child in a pyschology project on communication and culture. The Ape language studies were plagued with controversy and disagreement and Washoe was caught in the middle. She came under the care of Dr. Roger Fouts who continued communication research. Washoe however, is an Ape who does not think she is an Ape.

In graduate school in Primatology I was fascinated by the Ape language studies and by Washoe. She now lives in a Sanctuary with three other Chimps who learned signed language with Roger Fouts. They are in a unique facility where "The Chimps come first" and which is supported by the University of Central Washington and by The Friends of Washoe.

I only had ten minutes to see Washoe and there was no melding of our minds. She did not look across the enclosure and see me and come lumbering over, signing secret messages. She had no idea of the connection that I feel to her. It was hard to just sit there, listen to the pained presentation of undergraduate docents and just be happy with seeing her. But I saw her, and she signed "shoes" (she apparently has a shoe fetish) and I held up my shoe for her to see. It was one of my Chinese flp flop slippers from New York. I am sure she appreciated it.



Note: Washoe died Tuesday, October 30, 2007. She was 42 years old. RIP my little friend.

Check her out-Rachelle van Zanten

Rachelle van Zanten may not even be on your radar, but she should be. I first saw her play in Painting Daisies, and she has since gone solo. She is the hard rockin' shit-kickin' farm girl you always wanted to be friends with.

I got to see her both at the Calgary Folk Festival and the Edmonton Folk Festival and she was consistently brilliant.

Oh, and here is my favorite moment from the Calgary Folk Fest. Feist, Mellissa McClelland, Chantal Vitalis, and Rachelle van Zanten all on the same stage.

I love Jayne...

Can't Blog...too busy watching Firefly. I am already half through the first and only season and dread finishing. I cannot believe this show didn't stay on the air. I loved Buffy but Joss Whedon has really outdone himself this time.

My name is ____ and I have a Flickr problem

Is it just me, or does everyone use Flickr to define themselves? It has become an addiction, a need for me. I have the standard account and use it for the normal photo storage and display, but for me, Flickr has become a tickle trunk of Art that I can dig through at random and use its contents at anytime. It has become my favorite artistic tool to define myself for a day, a moment. On any given day I sit and think about tags or keywords that I might use to describe how I am feeling or what I am experiencing that day. There is nothing so satisfactory or invigorating as typing those tags in and seeing the stunning visuals that appear. There is always something that is absolutely perfect. I look forward to this ritual. It is like picking out an outfit or even painting your room based on your horoscope. Try it. You'll see.
And no, I don't work for Flickr.

No miniskirts after 35

What the F_? I was sitting on my bed in a hotel room this weekend with my friend, D, doing what we love best (and never get to do), drinking beer, eating pizza and watching What not to wear. I was casually laughing and throwing in my two cents about "Tomasita's new look" when D pointed out that one of the fashion "road signs" in the show intro said "No miniskirts after 35". I observed this with a laugh and then, after a 30 second delay, one of those classic cartoon "huuh?"s. Were they talking about me? Well shit, I am sitting on the bed wearing a jean miniskirt and am the ripe old age of 35. Nuts. I poo pooed the sign and then the whole show. But I haven't stopped thinking about this whole dressing appropriately thing and where exactly I fit into it all. I googled around today and found that a lot of women have been talking about this.

These blogs had huge discussions

• Postcards from the Mothership
• BBC America Discussions

And there is a good article I found in The Observer.