We had quite the day on Saturday. We were invited over to my friend Toby’s house in the afternoon as his roommate was having a Sangria party. We rolled in about 5 PM to find the party well underway. Sangria was flowing copiously and Josie was a big hit with the punk kids and the college kids alike. I spent much of my time preventing her from mauling Toby’s soccer ball, which she took an instant attraction to.
On the way back from the party, we saw a small corner store that was selling soccer balls, so we grabbed one for her. She wanted to play with it the whole way home. Once unleashed in the house, she took to running around with her new favorite toy. For five minutes. Josie punctured it, and then was sufficiently freaked out when the air began hissing out of it. Oh well, it was only five bucks. I need a bullet proof soccer ball or something, I guess.
We stopped at a local Mediterranean joint for dinner before heading out to Bottom of the Hill to see P.O.S. We happened to run into my buddy J.R. and his friend Eric at the restaurant, so we dined with them and then Eric was nice enough to give us a ride to the venue.
BOTH is a decent venue, it holds probably about 300 people, I would estimate. The stage is facing you as soon as you walk in the door, and they have a back pool/pinball room that doubles as a merch area for shows. They also have a back patio where they will have BBQs on Sunday afternoons before shows, which would be kind of fun.
The first guy up went by the name Silent Army, I believe. He’s a local Bay Area guy, and P.O.S. wanted him to do 10-15 minutes before the rest of the acts. Not too bad, I’d be interested in seeing him again with more time, but the most notable thing about him was his killer hoodie. It had all of the chest bones on front and back, and the hood was a skull, I want one.
The second act was Dessa from Doomtree. She’s the female rapper in that group, Saturday night she was doing some solo material. She’s definitely improved over the few years I’ve seen her, and she can hold her own on stage. There’s just something missing with her that I can’t quite put my finger on. It may be a confidence issue, but that’s merely conjecture.
Next up was Mac Lethal. I’ve seen his name around tons of times, but never had a chance to check him out previously in the Midwest. He was pretty entertaining, and very funny, but nothing that I’d purchase, I don’t think. He ripped on everything from the “Lean with it, rock with it” motorcycle dance, Chinese character tattoos and being asked to be on the White Rapper show on VH1 (he didn’t accept, obviously).
Finally the main event was P.O.S. He’s become something of an inside joke amongst my show-attending friends, as it seems like he’s opened up for just about everybody under the sun in MPLS. I’ve seen him open doing solo stuff or with Doomtree for acts as varied as Atmosphere, Dillinger Four and The Hold Steady. He definitely held his own being the headliner, however. He performed a bunch of material off of his most recent album, and even broke out a couple of new songs that he’s working on. Paul, our friend from Georgia who had never even heard of him, really liked him which is a good sign. Spilled cider and screaming out lyrics were in abundance throughout his set.
After this we nabbed a cab and headed to a bar in the Mission to hook up with Paul’s friend Jonah and Pete, and then proceeded to an afterparty in some loft a couple of blocks away. I poured myself a sick Jack Daniels and Ginger Ale and tried my best to mingle, but the electronica blaring throughout the party was too much. Plus there was a baby there. A baby, at an afterparty at three in the morning. It was weird, to say the least.
If anyone wants to hear P.O.S. go to www.rhymesayers.com and check it out, hopefully you’ll dig it.
jeremy
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Krusty's Revenge
As some of you may know, I don’t like clowns. I’m not entirely scared of them, but I don’t want them around me in non-clowny environments, either. That’s why I’m still sort of surprised that I even had the Saturday I did.
It was decided that Paul and I would meet up for dinner and head to the DNA Lounge (I thought maybe I could get in for free if I showed them my tatts, kidding) to go to the monthly Bohemian Carnival. I had heard of this through Paul’s other friends Ed and Lauren, and it seemed like it would be a good way to blow an evening. Dr. Madd Vibe (a.k.a. Angelo Moore from Fishbone) has even worked with them before, so my interest was piqued.
Upon entering the DNA Lounge, I am confronted by a band of clowns onstage. Not clowns, like say, those dorks in Panic at the Disco!, or even Insane Clown Posse, but circus clowns. There were about ten of them onstage, bopping along with their flowing clown robes and red noses, and playing a brand of what I’d call “Circus Funk”. It wasn’t too bad, in all honesty, and even evoked some dancing from the crowd.
The set-up of the DNA lounge was pretty great. A nice stage large enough to house numerous circus-folk that was pretty much in view from anywhere. Two large bars were located in the back, one on the main floor and one on the second tier overlooking the stage. To get up and down to the balconies, the stairwells went right towards the stage and then angled back. Basically whenever you went up or down, you were part of the stage for a brief instant, it was an interesting way to construct a venue, but it totally worked.
After accomplishing my mission to obtain cider from the bar, I went back to check out the clown action on stage. About half way through their third song, a trapeze artist appears and starts doing tricks maybe 15 feet from me. No safety net, no spotters, nothing. Just a diminutive girl doing crazy contortions on two pieces of rope and a bar.
Throughout the evening, other entertainers came to perform, both on the stage and off. Although not all of them were necessarily “Carnival” like, it was pretty entertaining. There were fire dancers, beat poets, bungee artists, comedians and DJ’s. There were also two girls who would dance on a pole (they were basically strippers that would intertwine themselves on the pole, but it was “tasteful”). All of this was slowly heightened by the prolific amount of cider that was ingested as the night wore on.
The only times I really had problems were when the clowns weren’t on stage. About 30% of the attendees of the show will dress up to fit the theme of the evening, including a number of clowns. There were a couple of times where I’d be going up the stairs with a clown close behind me. That was my cue to book it up the stairs and then wait for the clown to go by me, I was not remotely interested in having a clown come up behind me.
It was very entertaining overall, and would best be experienced on other substances besides cider, but I didn’t get eaten by a clown, so I give it a 7 out of 10.
jeremy
It was decided that Paul and I would meet up for dinner and head to the DNA Lounge (I thought maybe I could get in for free if I showed them my tatts, kidding) to go to the monthly Bohemian Carnival. I had heard of this through Paul’s other friends Ed and Lauren, and it seemed like it would be a good way to blow an evening. Dr. Madd Vibe (a.k.a. Angelo Moore from Fishbone) has even worked with them before, so my interest was piqued.
Upon entering the DNA Lounge, I am confronted by a band of clowns onstage. Not clowns, like say, those dorks in Panic at the Disco!, or even Insane Clown Posse, but circus clowns. There were about ten of them onstage, bopping along with their flowing clown robes and red noses, and playing a brand of what I’d call “Circus Funk”. It wasn’t too bad, in all honesty, and even evoked some dancing from the crowd.
The set-up of the DNA lounge was pretty great. A nice stage large enough to house numerous circus-folk that was pretty much in view from anywhere. Two large bars were located in the back, one on the main floor and one on the second tier overlooking the stage. To get up and down to the balconies, the stairwells went right towards the stage and then angled back. Basically whenever you went up or down, you were part of the stage for a brief instant, it was an interesting way to construct a venue, but it totally worked.
After accomplishing my mission to obtain cider from the bar, I went back to check out the clown action on stage. About half way through their third song, a trapeze artist appears and starts doing tricks maybe 15 feet from me. No safety net, no spotters, nothing. Just a diminutive girl doing crazy contortions on two pieces of rope and a bar.
Throughout the evening, other entertainers came to perform, both on the stage and off. Although not all of them were necessarily “Carnival” like, it was pretty entertaining. There were fire dancers, beat poets, bungee artists, comedians and DJ’s. There were also two girls who would dance on a pole (they were basically strippers that would intertwine themselves on the pole, but it was “tasteful”). All of this was slowly heightened by the prolific amount of cider that was ingested as the night wore on.
The only times I really had problems were when the clowns weren’t on stage. About 30% of the attendees of the show will dress up to fit the theme of the evening, including a number of clowns. There were a couple of times where I’d be going up the stairs with a clown close behind me. That was my cue to book it up the stairs and then wait for the clown to go by me, I was not remotely interested in having a clown come up behind me.
It was very entertaining overall, and would best be experienced on other substances besides cider, but I didn’t get eaten by a clown, so I give it a 7 out of 10.
jeremy
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Drunk in Public (Tranportation)
First of all, let me apologize for starting off hot and then not doing anything for the last 1.5 weeks. Quite frankly, nothing much happened that would be blog-worthy and I've been ill, so the combination of the two doesn't help. Hopefully I'll post as frequently as promised.
My new job requires me to take 3 modes of transportation and is 1.5 hours from door-to-door. I jump on the N Judah Muni Train Line (San Francisco's public transit train) a half block from my house which takes me to a BART stop in the city. I then take BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) to the Pleasant Hill Station from where I catch the shuttle my employer provides to the Safeway campus. It's not all that bad, really. I would have to drive an hour anyway, plus deal with $2.80 gas and bridge tolls and the aggravation of driving. Now I just pop on my headphones and read (I've read 5 books already in my month of public transit).
Despite my best attempts to block out the outside world, I can't help but notice there are some pretty interesting people who ride along with me, often providing some of the strange smells and stains I encounter as well. Following are some of the ones who stick out:
The Sleepers - The most common group of people, I don't understand how anyone can sleep on the Muni or BART. The conducter will brake, accelerate 10 feet and then brake again, throwing everyone up against the wall, but there's always one man or woman who won't even budge. How do these people do it? How do they not miss their stops? Aren't they afraid someone is going to snake their stuff? Do they suffer from narcolepsy? Again, I just don't get it.
The Solicitors - I run into someone from this group about once a week. It can be as simple as someone in a wheelchair asking for money for their medication to kids trying to earn money to go to hang-gliding camp or something. My favorites are the kids who have a box of plain M&M's that they're trying to sell for $4.00. I would totally love to buy your over-priced candy that looks like it's been left outside (as evidenced by the faded label) to bake into one congealed blob, but I really prefer Peanut M&M's.
The "Too Cool" for Public Transportation Clique - I must admit, I may be falling rapidly into this category. We're the ones who know where the best place to stand on the muni so that we have a minimal amount of people rubbing their various body parts on our asses as they work their way on and off. We keep an eye on the coveted spot near the doors on the inside part of the train car that won't be used as soon as we emerge from underground, and then jump to that spot as soon as possible. We read while standing up, not even bother to hold onto the safety rails, as we have our knees poised perfectly as shock absorbers and can sway back and forth as the conductor tries their best to make the train jump from the tracks. The key to the whole thing is to appear as if you are ignoring everyone and every once in a while look around the train as if to say, "See here, I'm reading a book, you cretins. Don't you enjoy how smoothly I make this look? Don't you wish you had as much public transportation knowledge as I? Now, back to my reading,". I had to pick some group to join, nobody wants to be a loner on the Muni.
Future Wife Just Dumped Me Guy - This was just one dude who was riding the Muni last weekend. He was a young guy and didn't look to be crazy. Heavily intoxicated, he would spit on the floor and cat-call every woman from 8 to 80 getting on the train. He would talk to himself loudly, then mouth words when trying to talk to others. I was ready for him to start trying to fight people. Then we noticed it. On his pinkie there was a woman's diamond engagement ring. The dude had obviously just been dumped, and was probably on hour 54 of his drunken recovery. Poor bastard.
The Staring Contest Crew - I'll find one of these guys about once a week as well. They try to come off as the hardest guys (and it's ALWAYS a guy) on the train. They'll constantly look around the train, trying to make eye contact with anyone. Once they do, they lock eyes and make sure the other person looks away first. Once they've vanquished their foe, they smirk and look for the next "punk". The funny thing is, these guys are usually 17 years old, coming in from the suburbs to go hang out in the city near the cable cars or the piers. Hilarious.
Gotta roll. If tonight goes down as expected, hopefully I'll have something else to post for everyone tomorrow.
jeremy
My new job requires me to take 3 modes of transportation and is 1.5 hours from door-to-door. I jump on the N Judah Muni Train Line (San Francisco's public transit train) a half block from my house which takes me to a BART stop in the city. I then take BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) to the Pleasant Hill Station from where I catch the shuttle my employer provides to the Safeway campus. It's not all that bad, really. I would have to drive an hour anyway, plus deal with $2.80 gas and bridge tolls and the aggravation of driving. Now I just pop on my headphones and read (I've read 5 books already in my month of public transit).
Despite my best attempts to block out the outside world, I can't help but notice there are some pretty interesting people who ride along with me, often providing some of the strange smells and stains I encounter as well. Following are some of the ones who stick out:
The Sleepers - The most common group of people, I don't understand how anyone can sleep on the Muni or BART. The conducter will brake, accelerate 10 feet and then brake again, throwing everyone up against the wall, but there's always one man or woman who won't even budge. How do these people do it? How do they not miss their stops? Aren't they afraid someone is going to snake their stuff? Do they suffer from narcolepsy? Again, I just don't get it.
The Solicitors - I run into someone from this group about once a week. It can be as simple as someone in a wheelchair asking for money for their medication to kids trying to earn money to go to hang-gliding camp or something. My favorites are the kids who have a box of plain M&M's that they're trying to sell for $4.00. I would totally love to buy your over-priced candy that looks like it's been left outside (as evidenced by the faded label) to bake into one congealed blob, but I really prefer Peanut M&M's.
The "Too Cool" for Public Transportation Clique - I must admit, I may be falling rapidly into this category. We're the ones who know where the best place to stand on the muni so that we have a minimal amount of people rubbing their various body parts on our asses as they work their way on and off. We keep an eye on the coveted spot near the doors on the inside part of the train car that won't be used as soon as we emerge from underground, and then jump to that spot as soon as possible. We read while standing up, not even bother to hold onto the safety rails, as we have our knees poised perfectly as shock absorbers and can sway back and forth as the conductor tries their best to make the train jump from the tracks. The key to the whole thing is to appear as if you are ignoring everyone and every once in a while look around the train as if to say, "See here, I'm reading a book, you cretins. Don't you enjoy how smoothly I make this look? Don't you wish you had as much public transportation knowledge as I? Now, back to my reading,". I had to pick some group to join, nobody wants to be a loner on the Muni.
Future Wife Just Dumped Me Guy - This was just one dude who was riding the Muni last weekend. He was a young guy and didn't look to be crazy. Heavily intoxicated, he would spit on the floor and cat-call every woman from 8 to 80 getting on the train. He would talk to himself loudly, then mouth words when trying to talk to others. I was ready for him to start trying to fight people. Then we noticed it. On his pinkie there was a woman's diamond engagement ring. The dude had obviously just been dumped, and was probably on hour 54 of his drunken recovery. Poor bastard.
The Staring Contest Crew - I'll find one of these guys about once a week as well. They try to come off as the hardest guys (and it's ALWAYS a guy) on the train. They'll constantly look around the train, trying to make eye contact with anyone. Once they do, they lock eyes and make sure the other person looks away first. Once they've vanquished their foe, they smirk and look for the next "punk". The funny thing is, these guys are usually 17 years old, coming in from the suburbs to go hang out in the city near the cable cars or the piers. Hilarious.
Gotta roll. If tonight goes down as expected, hopefully I'll have something else to post for everyone tomorrow.
jeremy
Sunday, January 7, 2007
A Hitchhiker's Guide to Marin County
On Saturday morning we packed up the dog and took Highway 1 across the Golden Gate bridge to Marin County just north of SF. We wound up the mountain and ended up at a State Park called Mount Tamale-Pies, or something similar. We hiked up to the top near the fire tower and had a fantastic view of the whole bay area. Josie had a pretty good time leaping from rock to rock and sampling some of the local flora. It was freezing up there, however, and marked the first time since I've been in CA that I've seen ice that wasn't nestled nicely in Southern Comfort.
We continued our journey up over the mountain and stopped in (Tommy) Stinson Beach. It was a pretty small beach community of about 1000 people, and you could tell it was the "Off" Season there. Not many people wandering about and we were the only ones at the Sand Dollar restaurant for quite a while. We walked up the beach and let Josie run about in the surf and attempt to ingest copious amounts of seaweed.
On our way out of Stinson Beach we saw three runners throw up their thumbs to hitch a ride. I occasionally make really idiotic decisions, and this was one of those times. We let the oldest of the guys climb in the back and get a nice tongue bath from the dog. He had run over the mountain to the beach and was looking to get a ride back to Mill Valley. He proceeded to tell us that he was a retired elementary school teached and often ran over the mountain to the beach in less than an hour. He was practicing for the Dally Trail race (may have been called something else), the 2nd oldest race in the nation after the Boston Marathon. He proceeded to point out every time the trail crossed the road. Once we arrived in Mill Valley, he felt compelled to show us around the downtown area. No detail was left spared.
"There's a great bookstore where you can get great maps and books about the Dally Trail,".
"There's the library, it has a great reference section and viewing area about the Dally Trail. Numerous items from my collection are in the display,".
"See that guy with the hat and the white beard, he's Irish. I don't remember his name,".
"Sometimes in the park a guy wanders around with a guitar,".
"There's a famous rock club. Huey Lewis and the News once had a picture of it on an album cover. I don't have that album, though. I think Huey Lewis lives near me,".
I never got the guy's name, but we just started calling him "Abe" after Grandpa Simpson. I fully expected him to bust out an "We wore an onion on our belt, which was the style at the time,". After finishing the tour with him waving to people he knew out of the backseat of our car, we dropped him off near his home. "You can see the top of our house over there near the trees. It's called Pickleweed and..." Just get out of the car grandpa.
Once Abe was gone, Josied whined and pined for her new friend, but our eardrums were happy for the rest. The moral of the story is don't pick up crazy old men who are hitch-hiking near the beach, even if they are overly friendly and frail.
Take care.
We continued our journey up over the mountain and stopped in (Tommy) Stinson Beach. It was a pretty small beach community of about 1000 people, and you could tell it was the "Off" Season there. Not many people wandering about and we were the only ones at the Sand Dollar restaurant for quite a while. We walked up the beach and let Josie run about in the surf and attempt to ingest copious amounts of seaweed.
On our way out of Stinson Beach we saw three runners throw up their thumbs to hitch a ride. I occasionally make really idiotic decisions, and this was one of those times. We let the oldest of the guys climb in the back and get a nice tongue bath from the dog. He had run over the mountain to the beach and was looking to get a ride back to Mill Valley. He proceeded to tell us that he was a retired elementary school teached and often ran over the mountain to the beach in less than an hour. He was practicing for the Dally Trail race (may have been called something else), the 2nd oldest race in the nation after the Boston Marathon. He proceeded to point out every time the trail crossed the road. Once we arrived in Mill Valley, he felt compelled to show us around the downtown area. No detail was left spared.
"There's a great bookstore where you can get great maps and books about the Dally Trail,".
"There's the library, it has a great reference section and viewing area about the Dally Trail. Numerous items from my collection are in the display,".
"See that guy with the hat and the white beard, he's Irish. I don't remember his name,".
"Sometimes in the park a guy wanders around with a guitar,".
"There's a famous rock club. Huey Lewis and the News once had a picture of it on an album cover. I don't have that album, though. I think Huey Lewis lives near me,".
I never got the guy's name, but we just started calling him "Abe" after Grandpa Simpson. I fully expected him to bust out an "We wore an onion on our belt, which was the style at the time,". After finishing the tour with him waving to people he knew out of the backseat of our car, we dropped him off near his home. "You can see the top of our house over there near the trees. It's called Pickleweed and..." Just get out of the car grandpa.
Once Abe was gone, Josied whined and pined for her new friend, but our eardrums were happy for the rest. The moral of the story is don't pick up crazy old men who are hitch-hiking near the beach, even if they are overly friendly and frail.
Take care.
Wednesday, January 3, 2007
2007
Since I'm here in a new city it sometimes gets difficult to keep emailing people with what's been going on. Often I'll cut and paste entire emails just so I'm not re-typing the same things over and over (sorry about that). So if you are reading this, there's a good chance that I sent you an invite to do so. Saves me time and Carpal Tunnel.
We rang in the new year by going to see Hepcat and The Aggrolites at a place called Slim's. J. Ryan came up for the weekend and was in attendance as well. Slim's is a little bit bigger than the Triple Rock Social Club, it probably holds about 500 people and had a nice big bar extending along the side wall and curving to the back wall. There appeared to be a handful of tables on a raised mezzanine in back, but I didn't venture up there.
The Aggrolites put out one of my favorite albums of 2006. They are a soulful, laid-back ska band that reminds me of summer. I was having a blast watching their show, they are pretty charismatic and can put on a heck of a show. I later talked to the keyboardist for a minute or so and got some free stickers, but they didn't bring any XL t-shirts for the fat kids.
Seeing Hepcat again was fantastic. I recall seeing them everywhere from the 7th St. Entry to playing above the outfield wall at Saint's Stadium. I had previously thought that they had broken up, but I was glad to get a chance to see them again. You can tell they are just having a blast playing the show and getting everybody to move.
At midnight a bunch of balloons dropped, champagne was drank, and kisses were exchanged. It was a great way to start a new year in my new home town.
I hope to keep this updated a couple of times a week, we'll see how that goes. Take care.
We rang in the new year by going to see Hepcat and The Aggrolites at a place called Slim's. J. Ryan came up for the weekend and was in attendance as well. Slim's is a little bit bigger than the Triple Rock Social Club, it probably holds about 500 people and had a nice big bar extending along the side wall and curving to the back wall. There appeared to be a handful of tables on a raised mezzanine in back, but I didn't venture up there.
The Aggrolites put out one of my favorite albums of 2006. They are a soulful, laid-back ska band that reminds me of summer. I was having a blast watching their show, they are pretty charismatic and can put on a heck of a show. I later talked to the keyboardist for a minute or so and got some free stickers, but they didn't bring any XL t-shirts for the fat kids.
Seeing Hepcat again was fantastic. I recall seeing them everywhere from the 7th St. Entry to playing above the outfield wall at Saint's Stadium. I had previously thought that they had broken up, but I was glad to get a chance to see them again. You can tell they are just having a blast playing the show and getting everybody to move.
At midnight a bunch of balloons dropped, champagne was drank, and kisses were exchanged. It was a great way to start a new year in my new home town.
I hope to keep this updated a couple of times a week, we'll see how that goes. Take care.
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