The Dune Sea

Notice and Redirect

2009-06-21T19:14:00.001-07:00

Hello folks. I am in the process of phasing this blog out. Why? Mainly, because I'm sick of always having to sign in and out of my email to write new posts. So yes, laziness.

But never fear, for I am still out there in the "blogosphere." You can find my new blog, starting with my observations from abroad, right here.

Enjoy.

Wrigley Field

2009-06-12T12:42:00.001-07:00

The real question, I feel, is why am I not at Wrigley Field watching the Twins right now?

LIVE Classical Music Review and Discussion: Beethoven's Missa Solemnis

2009-06-11T21:33:00.000-07:00

Well, the other night, I did what I promised myself I would do, and I went and heard the Minnesota Orchestra perform Beethoven's Mass in D Major (Missa Solemnis). Even better, Osmo Vänska was conducting, whom I had really wanted to see. And let me tell you folks, it was a tremendous performance.

Yes, I had to buy a full price ticket. Yes, I had to sit next to a weirdass in an undershirt who kept murmuring "bravo." Yes, I sat in the third tier. Yes, I have a crick in my neck that probably won't disappear for another week as a result. But Beethoven cures all ills. If he can suffer the most torturous irony of being a deaf composer, I can suffer a pain in the neck.

Having no one to go with, I decided to go alone. "The music would be my companion," I bravely told myself. Typically, I find music to be a most social activity. Some of my fondest memories in college and beyond consist of listening to music in community, be it live or on record. However, I think we can all recognize, that at times, music is most effective in solitude. Although the Missa Solemnis would undoubtedly be a brilliant piece to discuss, I decided to go to Orchestra Hall with the intent of (as much as possible), a solitary experience with the music. Which is convenient, since as aforementioned, I had no one to go with.

Music, as an art form, can be directed in many different ways. Much of what we listen to everyday is directed towards entertainment, towards popular gratification. Other forms, like perhaps jazz, are created with the end goal of the music itself. Art music, I suppose, music for the sake of music. However, as distinct and broad as these two categories are, I think there should be a third category. Music directed towards God, towards the Divine. And I suppose this third stream might be much more subjective than the other two, since people have many different ways of experiencing the Divine. When I think of this, my mind most directly goes to my experiences with the Luther College Concert Band. At the close of every concert, we would sing/play an arrangement of Bach's "Who Puts His Trust in God Most Just." Now, the band was composed of a great variety of people, who undoubtedly had many different beliefs. But in the playing of that song, something special happened, and we no longer played as we played the rest of the concert. Something spiritual occurred, be it an act of the band within itself, or the music being directed towards a higher purpose.

In my opinion, the Missa Solemnis must be the pinnacle of this "third stream" of musical direction. I wish I could adequately describe what I heard, the most perfect mix of chorale, orchestra, and solo voice. But alas, I cannot. However, it was, in a word, transfixing. I only wish I would not have been distracted by the visible musicianship of the orchestra and chorale, that I could have simply closed my eyes and listened to the music. Of course, that is not a feasible option at a live concert, since part of the experience is watching the vitality of the musicians. Such is life, always these decisions. Either watch the musicians and be distracted, or don't watch the musicians and be transported.

As an aside, isn't it interesting to juxtapose the vitality of the orchestra with the dullness of your typical classical music crowd? I think it's really a shame that the audience is almost solely comprised of old people... I mean, young people can appreciate good music as well. My solution? Do as the Twins do. $4 seats and $1 hot dogs. Add in some cheap beer, and away we go. Think of the fun you could have with Mahler.

Even more fun would be to watch Mr. Vänska. His conducting was absolutely fantastic, so full of energy and vigor. I was afraid at times he might poke out the eyes of some of the folks in the front row with his baton, the way he was waving that thing about.

Anways, for my own part though, I feel true "musical" revelation comes as a consequence of "listening," preferably solely with the ears. In a dimly lit room, perhaps with a glass of fine scotch, to be perfectly honest. Thus, I should very much like to get a copy of the Missa Solemnis, and listen to it at home. I think then, I'll gain a much greater appreciation for the music on an intellectual and spiritual level.

However, the appreciation I got the other night was significant enough for now. The power and intensity of the Mass truly is something to behold. I, of course, made sure to get a seat with a good view of the trombone section, and there were some really great licks for bass trombone in particular. It definitely made me long for my old friend...

Aside from the general intensity of the entire experience, I think perhaps the most superlative moment came at the end of the "Sanctus," where there was this enrapturing violin solo that carried over the entire orchestra and chorus. It was something else, to be sure, probably made more poignant by the fact that the MN Orchestra's concertmaster is retiring this year after some 20 years. And she played beautifully. Yeah, it was just wild.

So yes, I would highly recommend listening to the Missa Solemnis. Of course, it is somewhat of a task, being a good hour and 20 minutes or so of music. But it is also assuredly some of the most beautiful music you will ever hear in your lifetime.

In reading the program notes, what is so fantastic about Beethoven is not only his dedication of this piece to God, but also his unwavering faith in the strength of human relationships. I mean, if you have not listened to the Ninth Symphony, beknownst of its meaning, and not felt an incredible feeling about the state of humanity, I really don't know what is wrong with you. If you appreciated the ethical message of the Ninth, you must listen to the Missa Solemnis.

As was written by Beethoven himself upon the score, "From the heart - may it go again - to the heart."

Iowa City Recap/This Week

2009-06-08T16:31:00.000-07:00

Hello internet friends. I've just recently returned from a long weekend trip down to Iowa City to visit some folks from college. I had never been to Iowa City, so it was nice to see a part of the country that I haven't been to before. And of course, I happily contributed to the local economy. You're welcome, owners of downtown eating/drinking establishments.

Iowa City is apparently the hipster capital of Iowa, which most likely explains all the tight-jeaned, PBR-drinking, and facial-haired self expression going on. If only I could be as interesting as those people. Damn.

Surely the lowlight for me was this free-form circus/band happening in the middle of the Iowa City art fair. When you can't tell whether they are hosting a gay pride parade or an anti-tax tea party, you know a problem is afoot. And it indeed was afoot. Very rarely do I find myself repulsed by musical expression, but I think that must be the only adequate term for that unhappy conglomoration of community art. I suppose that may be the hipster definition; "community art." I have no such qualms, and by the pretentiousness invested in me, I thus dub it "shit."

Really not much more to say. Good times were had, but I always have a good time with the Luther crew. Always nice to be with friends. My fun quota was fulfilled for, oh, I'd say a good couple weeks. Which would probably explain why this week seems so uneventful.

All year, I've been telling myself that I'm going to go hear the Minnesota Orchestra. And all year, I've found ways to avoid doing just that. But I feel this week, that must change. Tis' the season finale, and Beethoven's "Missa Solemnis" is being played. Anyone who knows anything about anything must then logically know that Beethoven is a god among mortals when it comes to music. I love Beethoven. Thus, it seems like I should probably attempt to get a ticket. I know I have a very provincial internet audience, but on the off chance anyone from Minnesota is interested in hearing some music, please, make yourself aware.

I had a messed up dream last night. I was trying to fly to Phoenix, but I had to first fly to Delaware. I don't know why I was headed to Phoenix. And all I had packed was a jar of peanut butter. That has to be interpreted somehow, right?

Anyways, back to reading about arbitration. It's really not that bad, but it's incredibly hard to stay motivated when there is no immediate class to hold me accountable. Maybe the whole idea of "summer responsibility" has just been eluding me the past 23 years.

TV Drug Ads

2009-05-30T16:27:00.000-07:00

I was subjecting myself to the modern America's most effective form of torture today (namely, Twins baseball on Fox), and I really couldn't help but note the number of ads I saw for prescription drugs.

I did have to run to the restroom quite a few times after that beer the other day, maybe I really should contact my doctor about Flomax. Hmm.

The whole idea of advertising a product which is inherently out of your control is bewildering to me. There's this notion, that if I as a consumer/patient, read that two page ad in "Better Homes and Garden," I will somehow gain a more nuanced understanding of pharmacy and medicine than my doctor, who presumably has completed years of painstaking education. But of course, that makes perfect sense! It's amazing how much fine print they can cram into one magazine ad, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. They try to cover all this up of course, by adding that small caveat: Ask your doctor if (blank) is right for you. Really though, isn't it more like, "this ad has convinced you (blank) is indeed right for you, so why don't you just run it past your doctor for good measure?"

As a nominal cog in the American health care machine (yes, machine), the strange thing is that once people actually find out the true cost of some of these glamour drugs, they are much less likely to desire them. Let's say, hmm, Lipitor. Lipitor is excrutiatingly expensive, and there are a host of similar generic drugs that may work just as effectively. It's stunning to see how quickly one person's adamant devotion to Lipitor will change, once they discover their insurance will no longer pay for it, and they are faced with a $230 charge. Per month.

But of course, for the folks in the ads, $230 a month must seem like chump change. Have you ever noticed, how happy and decidedly middle class everyone in prescription drug ads are? I mean, shit, the Flomax guy is flying his own plane! The Viagra guy is about to get it on with his absurdly attractive middle aged wife on his own private island! And these people, they have such interesting lives. It seems like every other person getting Avodart or some such thing is an accomplished blues guitarist, or a Hollywood model maker, or a professional golfer. I mean, I like to think I have some interesting hobbies, but how can I hold a candle to a guy who's hand-carving a boat? Or four guys who are having an impromptu Viagra hoedown in a roadhouse (see video)?

I must admit though, the Viagra ads puzzle me the most. The thing I've never quite understood, is do these men really need it? Look at their spouses. As a virile man, I have a difficult time believing they have ED under those circumstances. Maybe she has a terrible personality, but everyone in TV drug ads have incredibly interesting personalities, so that can't be right. No my friends, what would really be an effective commercial would be to showcase the sorts of normal men who actually need Viagra for use with their normal significant others. Shockingly, they don't all have hard bodies, and their wives don't look like gracefully aging beach volleyball players. It's more like beer bellies contained in a worn Harley-Davidson t-shirt. I mean, if Viagra can work for HIM with HER, than it can certainly work for YOU! If that's not a nifty little jingle, than I don't know what is.

Point being, these ads are ridiculous. Kind of like the Twins' road record (5-16).

Twins MVB Guest Post

2009-05-28T21:09:00.000-07:00

Yes my friends, that is a recent photo of the scoreboard at Target Field. I'm sure most readers may not relate, but that is tear-jerking to a Twins fan. When you've been watching baseball in a plastic bag your whole life, that scoreboard out in the blue sky is like a southwestern vista. Cannot wait.

Since we're on the topic, I had the opportunity to write a guest post for a Twins blog that a friend of mine from Luther writes. So, check out my thoughts on these current Twins as (gasp) Kirby Puckett's heirs over at Twins MVB! Should be up on Friday. Maybe not my best writing, but it's something, right?

The Post You Were Expecting

2009-05-27T09:18:00.000-07:00

I've been trying to think of some sort of insightful, hilarious, tongue-in-cheek post regarding the end of my first year of law school. I've actually been done for about 6 days and 19 hours now. But alas, the dry hilarity that I had hoped for has not materialized.

But to boil the whole end of the year thing down into one word would be easy. Relief. It's a very surprising feeling to spend time with friends, or go to a Twins game, and not feel this overwhelming sense of guilt that I should be reading about the commerce clause. Ironically, my write-on project for the law review is about the commerce clause. Go figure. I really shouldn't complain though, the commerce clause isn't too bad. Now, if I had to spend my free moments thinking about negligence or the calculation of expectation damages, that would be a bummer.

What have I been doing lately? Well, I've been perfecting the art of spending money, for one thing. If only that was an Olympic sport or something. I also went to a couple ballgames over the weekend, which was fantastic. There's nothing more satisfying to a humble Minnesota baseball fan than having the Twins beat up on a first place team to a nationally televised audience. Even if it took place in a plastic black hole.

Speaking of plastic black holes, the other day, I saw an image of the "Twins" logo being raised onto the scoreboard at the new Target Field. This is actually going to happen. Wild.

Since I'm on the subject, I think Joe Mauer may be an alien. Or some sort of baseball android from the future. But he surely isn't human. Right now, he's hitting a home run an average of every 8 at-bats, or something freakish like that. Because I have some sort of nativist streak, the fact that he is a corn-fed St. Paul boy makes it even more satisfying. If the Twins do not sign him long term, I'm fairly certain the Metrodome is going to become the site of one of those Branch Davidian style mass suicides.

I've got nothing else. A large set of digital condolences to my friends in the Luther College Concert Band, who had their Japan tour canceled due to the H1N1 flu virus. I wish I could adequately express how terrible I felt last Wednesday, especially being fortunate enough to make this tour four years ago. I was really excited for them, and looking forward to the homecoming concert at Ted Mann. Sometimes life just throws a curveball, I suppose. But for the folks who have worked all year for this tour, that's small comfort. Keep on going LCCB.

I've got some quality albums coming up.

4

2009-05-20T10:45:00.000-07:00

Only three more hours until freedom...

Album of the Week: Empyrean Isles

2009-05-14T20:42:00.000-07:00

This is a very off the cuff album review. I've only listened through this album once, and it was while I was making Contracts notecards. But it was enough to blow my mind. And if it's good enough to blow my mind while I was only half cognizant, it's certainly enough to blow everyone else's mind. It is just some wicked modern stuff. Listen to it with "Maiden Voyage." Once I get another few listens in, maybe I'll have an actual review to post. But regardless, check this album out. Herbie's the man.

I have a confession to make. I went and saw Star Trek again today. The local theatre up here has tickets for only $5. I didn't know what else I was going to do all afternoon, and I felt like I needed to unload my brain. Especially since I spent three hours and 15 minutes this morning making Constitutional Law my bitch. So yes, I went, alone, and I refuse to apologize for it. In the aftermath, I also figured out how much it would be to put prescription lenses in my sunglasses, so really, the whole movie thing was just a quick stop prior to an essential errand.

Go listen to Herbie. I'll study contracts.

2

2009-05-13T20:01:00.001-07:00

I wish I could declare the Twins' bullpen unconstitutional. This performance clearly is not rationally related to a legitimate end. It must be a pretext. Or maybe cruel and unusual punishment.

Damn it, there's no state action!

I guess I'll just have to get my constitution fix tomorrow at 8:30.

1

2009-05-10T19:14:00.000-07:00

James Madison - "Property is everything to which a man attaches value and has a right."

Jean-Jacques Rousseau - "You are lost if you forget that the fruits of the earth belong to all and that the earth itself belongs to no one."

Pierre-Joseph Proudhon - "Property is the suicide of society."

Here we go.

Movie Review: Star Trek

2009-05-08T20:27:00.000-07:00

So, in an effort to relax a bit before the start of finals, I went to see the new Star Trek flick with a friend of mine this morning. That's right, this morning. And let me tell you, the clientele for a Star Trek movie in the morning is everything you can imagine and more. No one was in their Starfleet uniform, but I don't think there were any women there. Mostly, it was single, mid 30's, balding, fat men. Plus myself and Corey. Fun times.

Now, I am not a Trekkie. Or a Trekker, if that's the name you prefer. But as many of you may know, I do have a certain, ahem, dark side when it comes to science fiction movies. I am not ashamed to say though, when I was a child, I used to watch Star Trek - The Next Generation. And I'll admit it, it was entertaining. In fact, I wouldn't mind watching it again. But point being, I am not a diehard Star Trek fan. And I still thought this movie was absolutely fantastic.

In a way, maybe not being burdened by Star Trek lore is a help, because you don't have to worry about being disappointed by anything. But as far as I can tell, this new movie stays true to spirit of the original. One really cool thing about Star Trek is the sort of utopian worldview it takes. That's not so prevalent in today's post-Cold War society, but can you imagine this in the 1960's? Black and white, American and Russian, men and women, human and aliens working together in harmony for peaceful exploration? What a great idea.

Anyways, to the movie. The acting is superb, and it's really striking how similar some of the actors and actresses look to the original TV cast. Spock especially, man, spot on. Spock and Kirk especially bring a very nice nuance to their roles. The conflict in Spock between his human emotion and Vulcan logic is really, really well done. Another really neat bit is the fact that Leonard Nimoy shows up! As, and you'll never guess, Spock! Yes, that's right, there are two Spock's in this film. And I know, it sounds sketchy, but it works out really really well. Nimoy brings an element of gravitas to the film that helps ground some of the more "out there" moments. Plus, he acts as such a poignant link to the noble history of this franchise. Well done.

As far as visuals go, this movie gets thumbs up. I always thought the Enterprise was such a cool looking ship, but to see it re-imagined in modern computer graphics, it takes it to another level. It's really such a graceful ship. It doesn't emanate aggression, or anything like that. Instead, it's more of an exercise in diplomacy and the importance of common understanding. Anyways, aside from sweet looking spaceships, the space battle scenes and other assorted space scenes just look fantastic as well. And there's a very striking, Alderaan-esque scene as well.

The story, I'll be honest with you, some parts of it I really don't know what the hell was happening. I know it was all a big excuse to create an "alternate reality" so they could make up this new story without destroying the entire past canon of the TV show. But in any event, it's an engaging story, and it works. Like I said before, the acting puts this over the top, and even makes some of the more ridiculous moments seem realistic. Kudos.

As an aside, I always thought "Live long and prosper" was such a legitimately great way to end a conversation. I mean, really, what a nice thing to say to someone. If it was socially acceptable, that's how I'd end all of my conversations.

As a further aside, I can do the Vulcan gesture with not only my right hand, but my left hand too. Suck on that bitches.

So yes, this movie is highly recommended. Even if you're not a science fiction fan, I think you'd be entertained by this film. It is smart, funny at times, visually stunning, and even emotionally resonant. A great reboot for a uniquely American pop institution.

Buying Food

2009-05-06T19:57:00.000-07:00

I took my dad to the airport today, he is going to Europe for about three weeks. Ordinarily, I'd probably be extremely jealous, but (a) I'm going to London the end of June and (b) I don't think Europe is ready to deal with my father for 3 weeks. I wish him the best of luck. Watch out France, Belgium, England, and Portugal.

Anyways, I was left some money to go and buy food, which I did. And you know, I've often felt that I live in a state of arrested development. I read somewhere that adolescence in America lasts until age 26, which I don't doubt in the slightest. The funny thing, most of my friends are in the same sort of position. There must be something about liberal, college-educated young males stuck in this vacuum of grad/professional school that does something funny with their brain. Needless to say, I went grocery shopping at Whole Foods, because I've wanted to check it out. Plus, I wanted to have the experience of an entitled, urban, professional person who pretends/is socially conscious about their food supply. And of course, I do have a fondness for wandering around grocery stores. Check.

But I got home, and I figured out what exactly I had bought. Mind you, this is what I need to eat for like, two weeks.

1 - pita bread
2 - hummus
3 - 2 frozen cheese enchiladas
4 - a bag of black beans
5 - a single cup of yogurt
6 - a block of cheddar cheese
7 - some cereal

Anyways, I got back, realized what I had done, and then decided I needed to pick up a few more things. Plus, I had only spent half of my allotted food quota. So I went to Rainbow. Here's the list from there.

1 - Phish Food ice cream
2 - a bottle of Mexican coke
3 - a bag of rice
4 - a tub of salsa
5 - one lime
6 - a case of American coke

You might as well scratch the Mexican coke off the list, since I drank it while I studied for property.

Now to be fair, there is some food here. There's a bunch of frozen pork/chicken that I could grill, and I do have some chips for the salsa. I suppose there are some eggs, and some milk. But I was looking at what I had bought, and I thought out loud, "What the hell did you just do?"

So anyways, if anyone wants to have a gin and tonic sometime at my dad's house within the next two weeks, feel free to come on over. Just make sure you bring the gin and tonic. I will supply the lime.

Or if you have some cachasa, we could make caipirinhas. That would go better with the Brazilian feast I think I'm going to attempt on Monday after my property test.

Speaking of, if anyone has any ideas on how you would define property, and why you should care about it, feel free to let me know. I think a philosophical conversation of that sort would be helpful preparation.

I'm going to go have some salsa.

Scoop

2009-04-30T21:08:00.000-07:00

Well, my plans to go hear McCoy Tyner were foiled thanks to registration. So instead, I took a couple hours to listen to a presentation by a guy from my dad's church, who happens to be Director of Stadium Operations for the Twins. He talked about Target Field, yada, yada, yada. I must say, a lot of the stuff he talked about, I had already gleaned from their website, but there were some interesting tidbits.

I think the most interesting thing has to do with next year's uniforms. I asked him if the rumors were true that the Twins were undergoing a uniform switch for the new ballpark. He said that the general home uniforms won't have significant changes (see white home pinstripes), but the road ones will. No more road pinstripes!

If only I could have remembered to tell him to ditch the vests. I can't think of anything more insulting to play baseball in.

If you haven't noticed, blogging will be slim for a few weeks here. Finals are approaching in a little more than a week. So, that's the deal.

Album of the Week: Live in Cook County Jail

2009-04-20T19:09:00.000-07:00

Do any of you folks have those days where it seems like nothing is going right? Maybe the weather is dreary, maybe your coffee tastes like shit, maybe you don't have any money. Or maybe (and this seems like the worst), some woman is breaking you down. Well folks, put down the bottle, for I have found a better elixir. My cure? Sit down in a comfy chair, put on B.B. King's "Live in Cook County Jail," and let the blues soak away your pain.

If we're referring to the "blues" as the distinct sub-genre of African-American music that sprung up alongside of jazz and r&b during the 20th century, I'm really not that knowledgeable. One random day I was in HPB, and I was thinking I needed to buy some blues to play whenever I felt blue. I really think this need stemmed back from a Garfield cartoon I read when I was eleven or so, when Garfield said he liked to listen to the blues on rainy Monday mornings. But that's neither here nor there, bottom line, I saw this album, thought it looked interesting, and picked it up. Plus, I had been wanting to get into B.B. King for a while, so it all worked out.

If I was making up a list of the Newer New Seven Wonders of the World, B.B. King's voice would have to be on the list. It is, in a word, amazing. Simultaneously capable of a rich melodic tone and a soul-shaking growl, it is something else to behold. I've heard very few vocalists who have such intense, intense emotion in every single syllable that they utter. Listening to King's singing is akin to sitting out on a hot summer night and listening to a thunderclap, in that it absolutely forces you to pay attention to everything he is saying.

King accompanies his great oak of a voice with some serious business on the guitar. Neither he nor his band is messing around, there is some major league playing going on here. Once again though, the emphasis is on the emotional impact of the guitar playing. With seeming effortlessness, King makes Lucille bark and squeal in ways you rarely hear a guitar speak. His staccato single note playing has such force to it, such vibrato. If you like quality guitar music, this is essential listening.

What ties the music together though, is the intangible element of King and his band playing before 2,000 of the Chicago area's toughest criminals. I mean, you talk about the blues, you can't get much more bluesy than being stuck in jail. In comparison, it makes most of my troubles seem trivial. As such, there's an element to this album which is simply indescribable. A lot of times where you sit back and just go "oh yeah..."

So yes, purchase this album. It's something else.

As an aside for you men, everything you'll ever need to know about women can be found on "Worry Worry." Basically, apologize a lot, tell her you love her, and swallow your pride. Even if you have to lie. Thanks, B.B.

Simple Pleasures

2009-04-17T22:11:00.001-07:00

I've seen a lot of bad baseball in my 23 year life, namely pretty much everything from 1994-2000. And as many can attest, even daunting adversity does little to quell my general optimism. However, when I went to the ballgame on Wednesday and witnessed a 12-2 destruction of my beloved Twins, I have to admit, I was hard pressed to last to the end. It took a lot of willpower to sit and watch the product on the field. The night certainly didn't improve after the game either.

And of course, Thursday's second consecutive thrashing was no consolation.

So as I listened to the Twins game at work tonight, I was crestfallen when the Angels took an 8-3 lead in the seventh inning. I thought to myself, "man, this sucks."

I still have serious issues with this team. Mainly their lack of consistency, their knack for terrible at-bats and impatience at the plate, the abominable bullpen performance, and their sloppiness in the field thus far. But I'll tell you what, nothing raises spirits better than a grand slam that puts you ahead in the 8th. Doesn't hurt when it completes the cycle. I ran inside my house, and turned the TV on as fast as I could, hoping to see what Kubel did at the plate. By the time I got the TV on, they were showing replays of the grand slam, and I started jumping up and down. I'm pretty sure I scared my dog away. But sometimes, after a stressful couple of days, that's what you need to do.

Now Twins, please repeat tomorrow. I'll be sure to sit in an even-numbered seat this time.

Happy Easter

2009-04-11T21:01:00.000-07:00

People want to know why church attendance is decreasing in America. My answer? Rocket birds, or lack thereof.

Happy Easter everyone.

Production

2009-04-07T13:48:00.001-07:00

Last night's season opener did not end with the result I had hoped for. Kevin Slowey better be ready to bring it when I'm there tomorrow.

Today I gave my final oral argument, effectively completing Legal Research and Writing I. The judges gave me some pretty intense questions, but what do you expect when you're trying to argue that it's okay for an attorney to sleep through part of a trial? Needless to say, a few verbal hiccups aside, it was successful. There's something about wearing a suit and arguing a case that makes you feel very lawyer-y. It actually was kind of fun. Probably a good sign, since this is the sort of crap I'm going to be doing for the next 40 years.

In addition, today I actually applied for a legal job. It's exceedingly unlikely that I will get it, since they want you to start on July 1, and I'm going to be gone in London until early August, but my legal research professor thought I should apply. So I did. The job is for a law clerk position with Target (yes, that Target). I would work in their legal department, helping to write case memorandums, research legal issues, draft some simple documents. It would be a sweet gig if I could get it, but like I said, extremely unlikely.

Oral argument is done. I took my socks off, turned the radio on, and maybe I'll go to HPB to celebrate. Tomorrow, I'll go sit with all the drunks in the college section at the Metrodome, have my dollar hot dog and my Summit, and watch Kevin Slowey toss a perfect game while the Twins become the first team in major league history to hit nine consecutive home runs. Sexy times.

*Correction - Anything positive I said about the Metrodome in my previous post, aside from the Twins' on the field success, please disregard. After watching the game last night from general admission, I've come to the conclusion that it is an irredeemable shithole. 2010 can't come soon enough.

Opening Day

2009-04-05T18:01:00.000-07:00

Well folks, Monday is one of the best days of the year in my book. That's right, it's Opening Day for the 2009 Major League Baseball season. And of course, I will be there at the Metrodome, watching my beloved Twins take on the Seattle Mariners.

Who wins the World Series you ask? That's easy. Twins win it in 7. And I only say 7 because when the Twins win, they win in dramatic fashion.

That's part of the beauty of opening day though. Ask 29 other baseball fans that question, and you get 29 separate answers. Hope my friends, hope. If Barack Obama was a day, he would be baseball's opening day.

Of course, for Minnesota fans, this year has a special poignancy, since it is the last season that the Twins will play in the Metrodome. For people like myself, the Dome is the only way we've ever known Twins baseball. Which really is a shame, because the Dome is an absolutely horrific venue for baseball. So many things are wrong about it, from the plastic roof to the plastic field to the plastic garbage bag that masquerades as a right field wall. Of course, it is a big homefield advantage, but I think the inherent dignity of outdoor baseball easily trumps that advantage.

As much as we Minnesotans love to hate the Dome, we also have to admit that it has its quirky charms. For instance, being blown out of the doors after the game. Or Bob Casey's "Nooooo Smoookking" address. And if you were a kid growing up in Minnesota in the 1990's with a pulse, you of course remember the "KIIRRBBEEEEEE PUCKETT!" Going along with that, who could ever forget Kirby in Game 6, or Jack Morris in Game 7? Like it or not, the Twins and the Dome are inextricably linked.

I'll be the first one to line up for tickets to Target Field. In fact, I'm literally foaming at the mouth to get into the new ballpark. Because it is beautiful. Not convinced? Check it. Even with that little issue of no retractable roof, it is going to be an absolute cathedral to Minnesota baseball. If I have to sit through a blizzard to watch the Twins capture the 2010 World Series, so be it. My mom bought me a fantastic new Twins jacket for that express purpose.

But as much as I look forward to next spring, it's only appropriate to look back with fondness at the past. Yes Metrodome, you are a terrible stadium. But in the meantime, you've done an alright job.

Play ball.

Iowa

2009-04-03T20:56:00.000-07:00

Today, the Iowa Supreme Court declared that the state's current ban on same-sex marriage is unconstitutional, opening the way for gay couples in that state to marry. I, for one, welcome the Court's decision, and being a temporary Iowan for a good long while, feel a special twinge of pride at what I would consider a courageous decision.

However, I'm troubled by quotes such as the following by Iowa state representative Steve King

This is an unconstitutional ruling and another example of activist judges molding the Constitution to achieve their personal political ends. Iowa law says that marriage is between one man and one woman. If judges believe the Iowa legislature should grant same sex marriage, they should resign from their positions and run for office, not legislate from the bench.

Now it is the Iowa legislature’s responsibility to pass the Marriage Amendment to the Iowa Constitution, clarifying that marriage is between one man and one woman, to give the power that the Supreme Court has arrogated to itself back to the people of Iowa. Along with a constitutional amendment, the legislature must also enact marriage license residency requirements so that Iowa does not become the gay marriage Mecca due to the Supreme Court’s latest experiment in social engineering.

In my capacity as a budding constitutional lawyer/confused student, I've picked up a couple of things. First of all, this term "activist" puzzles me. To label someone "activist" is merely to say that you disagree with what they are saying. It's a meaningless term, wielded with incredible simplicity by opposing politicians, who do the public a disservice via their disingenuous linguistics.

Now, the Iowa court was interpreting their state constitution, which is most likely based on the federal constitution. I had an interesting exchange a while ago, where a conservative individual I knew asked me whether I interpreted the Constitution the "right way" or the "activist way." Apparently, the "right way" involves applying the plain meaning of the document as the founders would have intended it. And originalism is (surprisingly) still a somewhat accepted view of interpretation.

However, the most important case in American constitutional history, McCulloch v. Maryland, decided by Chief Justice John Marshall, makes the point that a constitution does not have the detail and complexity of a legal code. It is a document that is inherently meant to be interpreted. It is a document that the founders knew would act as a blueprint for ages to come. Accordingly, it would be foolish to impose upon 21st century America the socio-political mores of late 18th century America.

Another interesting aspect of the above quote is that Mr. King claims that the Court is attempting to mold the constitution to meet their own political agenda. Of course, he neglects to mention that the concept of marriage appears nowhere in the Iowa Constitution. The ban is a statutory scheme, enacted by the Legislature. One of the functions of the judiciary is to act as a check upon the passions of the people, represented through the Legislature. That is why Supreme Court justices are appointed for life terms, as the security of their tenure supposedly makes them immune from present passions in order to interpret the law fairly. The present ruling is not "legislating from the bench." It's fairly interpreting the law, as the Court should do.

There's so much unintelligent muck being thrown about by opponents of same-sex marriage, claiming that same-sex marriage will lead to the degeneration of the traditional family, the destruction of societal mores, etc. Apparently, the constitution is meant to protect against such moral degradation. However, you never hear opponents of same-sex marriage mention the importance of protecting the minority against a potential tyranny of the majority.

Let's consider the facts. By all accounts, gay couples in this country constitute a minority. If my memory serves me right, the Court's opinion said there were some 5,800 gay couples in Iowa, which is a state of several million. Those several million are for the most part, free to marry as they wish. Those 5,800 are not. Instead, they are hampered by a law expounding a traditionalist worldview that has been receding ever since the 1960's. Opponents of same-sex marriage wouldn't dare to say that the Supreme Court was incorrect when it struck down bans on marriages between different races. I think that is fascinating. Miscegenation laws long held sway in the American South. Similar to bans on same-sex marriage, they excluded a certain class of people from marriage based on an arbitrary distinction that came from traditional (racist) views. As attitudes changed in this country, the judiciary chose to reflect that change on a constitutional level by eliminating miscegenation statutes. My question to those opponents is, why is the present issue of same-sex marriage any different? Someone please explain it to me.

Using the favourite term of conservative commentators, to me, the more appropriate use of "activist" would be to refer to those who insist upon defining marriage between a man and a woman. This obsession that same-sex marriage poses some sort of threat to the rest of the country is a tired tactic of fear. When confronted by something they don't understand, instead of attempting to understand, the Right in this country has reacted by appealing to base motivations and fearmongering. It is very easy to demonize gay couples as heathens when you refuse to engage with them. It's very easy to convince folks that all gay people spend their days dancing rumba in mesh shirts when you don't show the reality of couples in committed relationships.

Now, I'm not gay, but I'm proud of this ruling. Why? Because it is relational to the American experience of attempting to create a more perfect union for the whole of our citizens. We suffered a long and dark night of slavery and segregation, which was tossed aside (still working on the rest of it though). We've made great strides in gender equalization. In my view, this is merely the next step. And as a person who has a few gay friends, I'm happy that they will enjoy the same rights that I do.

At least in Iowa.

Album of the Week: Sibelius Symphonies

2009-04-02T20:59:00.000-07:00

I realize it has been a while since my last "Album of the Week" feature. Apologies. Frankly, I'm a bit stunned there hasn't been some sort of industry-wide collapse without the wisdom of my music picks guiding the fragile ears of America's record-buyers.

Record-buyers, not MP3-buyers. Remember that.

Anyways, I won't contend that this week's recommendation is anything but a cursory one. I was recently in a Half Price Books, and ran across a complete Sibelius symphonic cycle done by the Wiener Philharmoniker. Being in possession of a 50% coupon, I purchased it immediately for peanuts. And Tuesday, as I languished most of the afternoon away in a feeble attempt to understand the nature of Executive power under the Constitution, I literally listened to all seven symphonies.

Like I mentioned, I have only listened to these works through once, and not very closely at that. However, I'm fairly certain that even that cursory listening warrants a vehement thumbs up. This is exciting symphonic writing.

To add to my ineptitude this week, I'll admit I am very unfamiliar with Sibelius' work. My best knowledge comes from the stunning arrangement of "Finlandia" for trombone choir that I unfortunately had to play sophomore year. But I feel a kinship for Finland, for some odd reason. By default, maybe that means I feel a kinship for Sibelius. I think I knew this when against all my better judgment, I actually kind of liked that ridiculous trombone choir arrangement.

Bottom line, if you're sick of always listening to Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert symphonies, blah, blah, blah, check out Sibelius. He for sure has a distinctive style, and it is incredibly pleasing to the ear.

Maybe I'll write a better review once I actually know what the hell I'm talking about. But probably not.

Cesar Chavez Day

2009-03-31T13:30:00.000-07:00

Today is Cesar Chavez Day, an official holiday in 8 states, but unfortunately, not here in Minnesota. For those of you not familiar with Mr. Chavez, he founded the United Farm Worker's union to fight for the rights of the largely Hispanic migrant farm workers in the 1960's. A devotee of Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr., Chavez led a non-violent movement to bring dignity to migrant farm workers, which spilled over to Hispanics in general. Pretty incredible, when you think that Chavez took a bunch of poor farm workers who were severely marginalized by society, and ended up forcing concessions from the huge California corporate growers.

Unfortunately, not many folks know about Cesar Chavez. Everyone knows about King, but Chavez gets kind of dusted into a corner. Usually gets about a paragraph in American history survey texts. Which is too bad, because he truly was a great man, someone to be respected.

I'd encourage you to sign the UFW's petition to make Cesar Chavez Day a national holiday here.

Si se puede!

Fun Times

2009-03-29T18:39:00.000-07:00

I don't know what you losers do for fun. Check it.

Road Trip Recap

2009-03-26T20:23:00.000-07:00

Hi folks. Haven't blogged much lately, since I've been on a spring holiday road trip, extending from Decorah in the south, Madison in the middle, and Milwaukee in the east. As is expected, it was a welcome diversion from the entity known as law school.

It's kind of redundant (and boring to others) to just recap what I did, but a quick rundown of the facts is probably in order. Got down to Decorah late Friday night, and spent a very sunny Saturday playing frisbee golf, playing trombone, and hitting favourite Decorah haunts. Such as the Mexican restaurant formerly known as Sabor Latino II and La Rana. Sunday, got up, had some breakfast, and hit the open road to Madison, with a slight detour to the New Glarus Brewery. Sunday evening and Monday was spent visiting friends in Madison, contributing heavily to the Wisconsin economy, going to Irish pubs, etc, etc, etc. Tuesday, headed off to Milwaukee, where we hit the art museum and (unfortunately) the Miller brewery. And Wednesday, a quick stop north of Milwaukee to pick up a trombone part, and back to Decorah.

It's probably too obvious to point out, but the real highlight was being able to spend some time with good friends from college. It seems to me that often times, distance and time starts to erode those friendships that formed at college. Which seems so odd, since they tend to be such intensely personal friendships. They're formed at a time of great personal growth, a time of close proximity, a time of common involvement in common interests. I suppose though, just as water carves canyons out of solid rock and stuff, time and distance does an equal job. And admittedly, I don't always keep up the best contacts with some of my college friends. But what I find most comforting, is the fact that most of my really good college friends have the same interest in keeping those friendships going. So even if we haven't talked for a while, or know what is going on, once we get together, it's like nothing has changed. And I feel extremely fortunate for that.

Of course, it's always nice to be in Decorah, I always tend to have a good time there. It's always a bit odd to walk around the Luther campus not in the student capacity, but the essence of the place is always the same. I don't think that changes. I thought it was great fun to be able to play some trombone in Sperati, which might be my favourite room on campus. And I'm proud to say, I won our second round of frisbee golf. My greatest respect to my crew and all... but suck it.

I had the opportunity to visit two friends in Madison, both of whom work at Epic Systems. One is a good friend from Nottingham, the other a good friend from band. It was very eye-opening to get a tour of the Epic facility outside of town. Words wouldn't really do it justice, but it was something else. I've never seen a workplace of such scale or, I don't know, themed buildings with treehouse conference rooms. No law offices I've been to have a theme.

Anyways, it's always so redundant to explain trips to people, because people get bored hearing about things they didn't experience. So I think I'll stop now. But it was a great trip, a welcome diversion, and a much needed pick me up.

Back to property...

Funny.

2009-03-16T10:59:00.000-07:00

Too funny.

No work, jazz, travel, etc.

2009-03-12T12:28:00.001-07:00

I'm at a Starbucks, the quintessential home of the blog. And for the first time in a long time, I'm not here poring over my property casebook or writing arguments for a brief. I'm just here, being leisurely and having some coffee. It feels great. Even better, "Freddie Freeloader" from Kind of Blue is on the muzak.

As you may have surmised, my appellate brief is completed, and the property quiz has been taken care of. As far as I'm concerned, there's now just a week long countdown until spring break. Of course I still have normal homework, but the stress/busyness level has been drastically reduced.

I'm going to hear the Luther jazz orchestra tonight, which will probably be sort of an out of body experience. Considering I played in that group specifically for a year and a half, and jazz at Luther in general throughout my tenure. But I'm really excited to hear them play, as well as visiting with Tony and some other friends in the group. It probably won't be quite like the Jazz at Lincoln Center orchestra who I heard play last week (with Wynton Marsalis!), but I suppose that's to be expected.

The anticipation got me thinking about the tour to Brazil last summer. Plus, I've been listening to a lot of bossa nova lately. Man, that tour was fun. One of the things I'll never forget about that tour was one of the first nights in Sao Paolo. We had played a gig or something, and our driver stopped at a gas station on the way back to our hotel. The folks in my room and myself were intent on celebrating being in Brazil, so we purchased some Brazilian beer, and some chips or something. We got back to our hotel, and we dragged a bunch of our room furniture out onto our little patio. It didn't overlook anything really, just the urban jungle that is Sao Paolo, but it was outside. Tom, the other jazz instructor came over with some cachasa, and we sat outside, talked jazz, and just had a great time. One of those things that isn't really significant enough to tell people about, but it was one of those simple pleasures of travel that often gets lost in the muck of everything else. So, in honor of tonight's concert, I'm sharing the story now.

Speaking of travel, I'm getting ready to purchase a ticket to London for my class this summer. It hasn't really hit me that I'm going abroad until I actually had to start searching for fares. I think British Airways is going to be the best deal. Which is incredibly convenient, since I love British Airways.

Anyways, my class ends on a Wednesday, and I think I'm going to stay in Europe until Sunday, in order to go on an adventure. I was thinking last night, where do I want to go? Here are the options.

1- St. Petersburg

I would kill to go here, but Russia seems the sort of place best tackled using the buddy system, and I'm flying solo on this trip.

2- Scandinavia

Maybe I'll go on a quest in search of my heritage. Or maybe just go to Finland. It is kind of expensive though.

3- Germany

Didn't see much of Germany, save for one semi-cognizant night spent in Munich.

4- France

Always an option, but I think it is best saved for a weekend excursion.

5- Remote Alpine Village Somewhere in Switzerland

I would like to have my photo taken with a cow on a brilliant summer day, high in the Alps, surrounded by breathtaking mountain scenes, with a Lindt bar in my pocket, wearing lederhosen, and have a man playing the alphorn behind me. Failure to accomplish any of these would be unacceptable.

6- Budapest

This is where I'm leaning. Just go a nice eastern European city, and chill for a few days. Drink coffee, listen to music, read pretentious books, etc. I'll probably have to save my appetite though, since I'll be in Hungary (pun).

If anyone has any opinions, please let me know.

I'm going to finish my coffee now. Later.

World Baseball Classic

2009-03-10T20:29:00.000-07:00

I was planning on writing some sort of thing encouraging you folks to watch the World Baseball Classic, but it was turning out like crap.

This is exciting stuff, I'd recommend watching it. Especially since the US has a good team, and the Netherlands just ousted the Dominican Republic. It's competitive, it's good for the game, it's just fun to watch.

In the interest of coherence, I'll just stop here. I have more property crap to read anyways.

TROMBONE CONCERT! YES!!!!

2009-03-02T19:56:00.000-08:00

Now is as good a time as any to plug my upcoming concert this Sunday. That's right folks, for an admission price of free (save that suggested freewill donation), you can listen to the Minneapolis Trombone Choir change your reality with hours of beautiful trombone music. For you fellas out there looking to impress your ladies, it's the perfect date night. And for you ladies out there looking for love, you must know that the overwhelming majority of trombonists are single.

Minneapolis Trombone Choir - 36th Annual Concert
Judson Memorial Baptist Church
41st and Harriet Ave. S., Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, March 8, 2009

7:00 PM

To add to the fun, we will also be joined by the St. Olaf Trombone Choir.

If you have never had the pleasure of attending a trombone choir performance, I'd highly recommend you come. Now, I realize trombone choir music is kind of a niche genre. Like sitar music. However, it has its own noble history, and we are playing some interesting pieces. A little Gabrieli, some jazz charts, an original piece composed for THIS VERY OCCASION, and a crazyass piece called "Osteoblast" that no one has any idea what's going on with. Don't forget that the trombone is the brass family's cello, and it produces a beautiful and robust sound. In the Renaissance, whenever a composer wanted to represent the Divine with music, that theme was always given to the trombone. Bottom line, no one's got shit on the trombone.

And seriously, if nothing else, the people watching will not disappoint. There's something about the trombone (and as a trombonist, I'm qualified to say this) that draws some of the most socially awkward people out of the woodwork. I saw this phenomenon at perhaps its peak at Luther, but I was happy to see that it replicates even up here in Minneapolis. In fact, at Luther, one of my friends was able to keep an "Awkward Trombone Player of the Week" game running for an entire year, without ever having duplicate winners. Really an impressive feat, I think.

So yes, make sure you put this down in your calendar. It's an event you cannot afford to miss.

As a special incentive, I have free backstage passes to whoever can identify the trombone player in the above photo. I will also be happy to pose for photos with the winner.

It don't mean a thing...

2009-02-27T11:48:00.000-08:00

I had this dream where I was walking around and ran into Duke Ellington. He told me that he really liked my shiny shoes, and maybe we should go eat something other than a salad. So we did. He told me that maybe I should play his music so others could hear it. So I said I would.

This is an inside joke. It'd be great to be a part of one someday, wouldn't it?

In all seriousness, this quarter is fantastic. Put "Ellington at Newport," on your ipod, grab a steak and a mug of hot water, and buy "Duke Ellington Meets Coleman Hawkins" entirely with Washington D.C. quarters. It's the perfect way to celebrate.

Confronting Mortality

2009-02-22T17:37:00.000-08:00

My grandma is not well. She's been in and out of hospitals and rehab centers the past few weeks. Heart issues, lung issues, etc. Apparently, she has two tumor-looking items in her lungs, which at her age, are manifestly untreatable. Needless to say, the prognosis is not good. At least she remains in pretty good spirits, considering the circumstances.

I'm not one to be too emotional in private. I can probably count on one hand the times I've been genuinely angry, same goes for extremely sad, to the point of it being externally noticeable. I typically try to run on a pretty even keel. With that in mind, I'm certainly not going to make any sort of melodramatic appeal in the public format of this blog. But as you can imagine, it's shitty, especially since I have a pretty small family in the first place. I don't have any siblings, and neither does my mom. I have an aunt and an uncle on my dad's side, as well as two cousins. And when you take into account the fact that my grandma has always been more of a part of my nuclear family than my extended, once again, it's fairly sad.

But then again, she kind of seems okay with getting out of here. It's no way to spend life, cooped up inside, not being able to do the things you once did. Being reliant on others for basic things.

In another twist to my weekend, I ended up spending an hour and a half of my Saturday afternoon sitting with my dog at an emergency pet hospital. It turns out he has a herniated disc, so he got some drugs and has been put on a strict regimen of "bed rest." Now I'm not one to go overboard on dogs as some do. I've never viewed my dog as some sort of child that I have to take care of, rather, he's more of a friend that just sort of hangs out all the time. I don't carry pictures of him in my wallet, or dress him up in dog sweaters or any of that nonsense. But it was very disconcerting to hear him yelp and gingerly walk around on his hurting legs. When I took him to the vet, he had this look on his face like he felt bad he was making me take him to get looked at (law school is insanely busy right now).

Like I mentioned earlier, it's a small family, and whether you want to admit it or not, the dog is part of it. We've had him since I was 12, and as my dad likes to say, he's been the "constant" in the ever changing seas of life. Doesn't ask for much, save some food, walks, and attention. He seems to be feeling better, and the vet indicated he should be good to go in a week or so. At the time though, it was very disconcerting.

It doesn't help that suddenly, my assignments at school have gotten extremely long and extremely involved. Add the stress that necessarily accompanies the minutiae of daily life, and it's been quite the weekend. Everything could be worse though, I suppose.

On a bit of good news, the Twins signed Joe Crede to play third base. I think this was a wise move. I told my grandma this on Saturday, she agreed. She was quite excited to watch a replay of Scott Baker's near perfect game on Saturday afternoon. See the previous post, add that story to it. Sometimes, an idiotic ballgame is just what you need.

Thank You Baseball Gods

2009-02-18T20:56:00.001-08:00

Two posts in a day, I know, I know. I really do have better things to do, but this story demanded commentary. And I did do better things, I'll have you know. Just ask me about federalism and slavery.

I read tonight that Ken Griffey Jr. has decided to sign a one year deal with the Seattle Mariners. Of course, if you were a boy growing up in the 1990's and followed baseball, you will always regard Griffey as a Mariner. It just was the way it was. Those years with the Reds were like an abyss. No one really cared.

Now, no one can question my devotion to the Minnesota Twins. I dare anyone to try. It is 100%, tested by the fiery hell of the mid to late 1990's (Scott Stahoviak?), vindicated in that glorious 1991 season (I was in kindergarten) and the rejuvenation of the new millennium. But aside from games at the Metrodome (subject of a future sentimental post), the stadium I have made the most visits to are Seattle's Safeco Field. And if I recall correctly, I once saw Griffey play there in 1999. My great aunt lived in Seattle, and whenever we would go to visit her, I would make sure to catch a few games. And I'll admit it, I liked it. I liked watching baseball outside, in a beautiful stadium (one more year, one more year). And I always thought the Mariners had a cool logo.

What is so glorious about this decision by Griffey is the concept of loyalty. I don't know how many baseball fans are out there, but the sport has been ransacked by disgusting displays of pure financial gain and irresponsibility. I would point to John Smoltz as the most recent victim. Here's a man who has pitched for the Braves his entire life, more than 20 years. And now, in the twilight of his career, he goes and signs with the Red Sox. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Loyalty. Loyalty is key.

Kirby Puckett. Need I say more? Of course not.

This decision by Ken Griffey Jr. is a demonstration of loyalty, that most precious of intangibles. A decision, on his part, to forego the ease and convenience of playing in Atlanta to return to his spiritual baseball home. If I were a true Mariners fan, I would be crying with joy right now.

Sports are an irrational phenomenon. No one on the Minnesota Twins knows who I am. Absolutely no idea. They play baseball because it is their job. It's like waiting tables at Denny's, or selling life insurance. Major League Baseball is a business, and I posit that most players today don't have loyalty to their specific team, because of that same reason. What is best for me? That most American concept of individual self-determination. The irony, of course, is that baseball is not a game of individual self-determination. Sure, the individual players play important roles, but the prime importance is on the team, not the individual. Without quality defence, or players to get on base, or pitchers to get people out, the single MVP player is worthless.

Of course, the reality is that for the great mass of people who follow baseball, it is anything but a business. It's not a way of life, but for many people, their specific team is an intensely important part of their life. It's a personal thing, through and through. I think of my own family, my grandpa used to take my dad to Twins games at the Old Met. He got him into the 1965 World Series. And ever since I can remember, my dad has been taking me to Twins games. Every summer, we drive to Matt's, have a greasy burger, go park, walk to the Dome, buy a program, sit in the upper club, order a Coke in a souvenir cup (recently that has changed to Summit), get a Dome Dog, and watch the game. It's the quintessential American relationship. Father and son, baseball, yada, yada, yada. Whatever else you want to throw in, but it's also a relationship between the game and the individual.

I think that's why true fans of the game shower such love upon players who reciprocate that relationship. Those players recognize that important relationship. They get it. I daresay they understand an essential part of the game that is often times, in this day and age, limited only to those linked via goodwill and affection.

So cheers to you Mr. Griffey, on behalf of true baseball fans everywhere. You did a good thing.

Album of the Week: Raising Sand

2009-02-18T15:50:00.000-08:00

As a general rule, I look upon cross-genre duet albums with a critical eye. One might say I'm automatically cynical even. So when I hear that Robert Plant, legendary rock god frontman of Led Zeppelin, is doing a cross-genre duet album, I am immediately cynical. And on a more personal level, somewhat internally wounded. For those of you familiar with the epic mastery of Led Zeppelin (and you better damn well be), the thought of Robert Plant doing some sort of nancy-pancy made to order bullshit is a thought almost too unbearable to comprehend.

When I looked and saw the second name on said cross-genre duet album, I must admit my hopes were raised a bit. I dried my tears and decided to give this a shot. I'm not typically one for making grandiose, broad, over-arching pronouncements on any particular topic. I think that is presumptuous and typically only gives one part of a story. But I feel comfortable in broadly stating that Alison Krauss has one of the most beautiful, if not the most beautiful, voices I've ever heard. I have an album of her and Union Station, and it is fantastic. And damn can she fiddle.

It's hard to juxtapose in the mind or ear, Robert Plant's primal wails of Led Zeppelin yore with Alison Krauss' ethereal melodies. Thankfully, Plant turns off his rock and roll button, and puts on his folksy-country hat. And man, the result recorded on this album is something else.

As I indicated previously, I could happily sit and listen to Krauss sing out of a legal dictionary for days on end, and this album showcases her absolutely stunning voice. She could sing a phone book, or a dental manual, or explain your tax evasion in song form, and it would still be gorgeous. To hear her singing with Plant is initially kind of like getting punched in the ears, you have no idea that what you're hearing is real. Their two voices surprisingly blend with uncanny ease, but there's a haunting undertone to nearly all of it. It's like you can feel the tension between their styles, and both artist is consciously having to suppress themselves. Every once in a while though, you can hear some of that individuality come out in the open, bubbling up from the unconscious. I can't remember what track, but there's this one part where Plant sings a stanza, and he just kind of forgets where he is at the end, and he comes off sounding like he's ready to melt some faces with Jimmy, John, and John Paul. I heard one reviewer comment that this album has the feel of a courtship dance between the two performers. I overwhelmingly agree.

When you think about it, this record actually has a logical basis. American blues, which formed the basis of the Led Zeppelin sound and was instrumental in the development of bluegrass, is the common language of both Plant and Krauss. And Zepp always had a very strong interest in acoustic folk music. You listen at nearly all of Led Zeppelin III, or songs like "Battle of Evermore," and you'll hear that folksy sound. Similarly, you listen to Alison Krauss and Union Station, and you hear a very progressive strand of bluegrass. So I suppose, it's kind of like they're meeting in the middle.

My favourite track thus far is "Please Read the Letter." Interestingly enough, it was co-written by Plant and Jimmy Page (lead guitar for Led Zeppelin) for one of Plant's prior solo albums. I think it would have been really sweet if they could have brought Jimmy in to play some acoustic or mandolin on this piece, see how he would interpret it.

All in all, this is a pretty quiet album. Pretty standard bluegrassy instrumentation, being guitar, mandolin, banjo, bass, drums. Not all of the instruments are on every track though, so it remains a quiet album. That's one of the very odd things, hearing Plant sing so softly. You realize that he actually has a very pleasant voice. A great track to showcase that is "Polly Come Home," which is just mesmerizing. It's got this extremely somber guitar-drum background, which contrasts with these very emotional vocals. Another great faster piece is "Gone, Gone, Gone," which has some grant Plant-Krauss action. Here it sounds like Krauss is a little outside of her comfort zone, trying to keep up with Plant's more natural rock instincts.

Anyways, I'm not going through every track on the album, but they're all great. So in summary, if you're looking for a bizarre way to spend an hour or so, check out this album. But also, if you are looking for an hour of simply fantastic, interesting music, I would check this out. Highly recommended.

New Suit

2009-02-17T19:30:00.000-08:00

GQ says a dark blue suit is the kind of suit that makes every man look good. Accordingly, in an effort to make myself look more like the competent member of the legal profession that I am, I recently put down some serious coin on a new dark blue suit. I picked it up today from the tailors.

It is badass.

It may have taken me nearly 23 years, but well-fitting clothes are a wise investment.

Excited.

2009-02-15T13:30:00.000-08:00

I'm excited too. Spring training starts tomorrow.

I'm anticipating a good season.

Album of the Week: Bandwagonesque

2009-02-12T19:51:00.000-08:00

Hi folks. Are you being crushed under the weight of work, research, and mental anguish? Are you sleeping little and stressing lots? Has coffee replaced blood as your predominant bodily fluid? If so, you need to chill out a bit, grab a scotch, and listen to Teenage Fanclub's "Bandwagonesque."

Just who is Teenage Fanclub? No frekkin' idea. I was talking music with this crazy dude at my dad's house party a few weeks ago, the dude was in his early 40's I'd say, had a huge ponytail, and played steel guitar in an old time honkytonk/rock fusion band. I told him he had to listen to "Kind of Blue" he told me I had to check out Teenage Fanclub. Behold, I left the party, was wasting time at a record shop, and I find the aforementioned album. So I bought it.

What I really like about this album is that it is a straightforward rock album, but it has little references to other styles. Definitely a grunge vibe going on, which probably makes sense since it was released in 1991. However, it does away with Nirvana style angst, and instead uses a much more melodic approach.

I don't want to call this is a pop album, because it's devoid of most all the bullshit that characterizes modern pop music. Really sparse instrumentation, pretty much guitar, bass, drums, but they get a quite rich sound. Listening to the album, you just get the sense that the group is using a very robust musical palette, if you get what I'm saying. It creates a great rock vibe, which I think is best described as even steven. You know, there are those other references, but for the most part, this album is just great melodies and great music presented in a very pragmatic rock format. It's not angry music, it's not super sad music, it's just music for that huge chunk of moderation left in the middle.

This group is Scottish, so of course, the lyrics have that British twinge to them, which I think really helps to add to a unique rock sound. I know I just said the album was one for that great mass of moderation, but I think if you check this music out, you'll agree that it is a distinctive moderation.

Bottom line, if you're sitting around and aren't looking to get super pissed, and aren't looking to wallow in self pity, I would check this album out. I bought it kind of on a whim, and I think it's fantastic music.

RED Card

2009-02-10T17:32:00.001-08:00

I was at Starbucks this morning, poring over my property assignment and Sixth Amendment cases. I couldn't help but notice, there's currently a promotion at Starbucks where if you "purchase" a Starbucks RED card, Starbucks will donate 5¢ every time you make a purchase with it. This is the AIDS awareness program that Gap, Apple, and other trendy companies like to expound. Basically, it's a gift card, right? No different from any of the other gift cards, but this one comes with a 5¢ donation.

Now, I don't want to belittle or slander Starbucks, because frankly, I can't probably afford any more run-in's with them for fear of being blacklisted. And plus, Starbucks has long had my back as my preferred study/conversation/hang out spot. But I find this RED card odd.

Undoubtedly this is a worthy cause. But it seems to me to be a bit of a cop out on the part of Starbucks. Now, I went on their website and checked out their social responsibility page, and it seems fairly bulky. But basically, with this program, they're transferring any sort of moral culpability onto the consumer. If I were to go up to CEO Howard Schultz and say, "Well, how come you're not giving this amount to the RED campaign?", he could just turn around and say, "Don't blame us, people aren't using their RED cards." It just seems to me to be sort of a lame way to make a philanthropic statement. If you as a company want to make an investment in some sort of charitable cause, make an investment that you can fully stand behind. That seems like a more convincing show of social responsibility. Making your philanthropy that blatantly dependent on others doesn't quite convince me.

I think the best show of corporate social responsibility has to be Target, where 5% of their profit is automatically given back to the community. There's a set goal, a solid commitment of a certain percentage. I think other folks interested in being "socially responsible" should follow that lead.

New Phone, New Capabilities!

2009-02-08T13:02:00.000-08:00

Hi folks. I purchased a new mobile phone today, which I suppose in itself isn't big news. However, this directly affects all of you, in that I can now send and receive up to 200 text messages each month! I've probably done like 10 of them today, showing off to folks that I could indeed do so, so this month's limit is now at 190.

Point being, I will now be available at times when a traditional call just would not be feasible. Like a noisy baseball game, or something like that.

Of course, I can also get email on this thing too, so feel free to use that if you don't feel like eating up my quota. Given the number of calls I receive on a regular basis though, I'm sure none of this will be a problem.

I still haven't quite figured the damn thing out, but I'm pretty sure it can control my car or fire a laser beam or something. I'm kind of hesitant to press too many buttons, because I don't really want to inadvertently start some sort of nuclear confrontation while trying to check the news.

Life is full of small challenges.

Beer of the Day: Boulevard Irish Ale

2009-02-07T17:08:00.000-08:00

No particular reason why. It's really quite good, and it brings back a lot of good memories from T-Bock's in Decorah.

Winter in Notts

2009-02-05T09:47:00.000-08:00

I found this photo on the BBC "Day in Pictures" feature, and of course I had to post it. Anyone who knows anything will realize why. Sorry the photo is so small, but you'll have to take up your objections with the BBC.

Profound Insights, Wisdom, Etc.

2009-02-02T21:05:00.000-08:00

1. When you sit down and think about it, chicken fingers really sound like a pretty macabre food. No one wants to eat fingers of any sort.

2. Have you ever noticed that to a dog, the entire planet is literally a giant toilet? The more I thought about it, the more sense it makes. I mean, why limit yourself to a chunk of porcelain when you could use the Yosemite Valley? All natural, compostable, what's the big deal?

3. Whenever you order pizza, regret inevitably follows

4. When you have graduated from college, and you go try to spend Christmas gift cards at American Eagle, you will feel like a giant tool

5. I think the only good reason to watch the Super Bowl in the future is to check out the new commercials for the upcoming Twins season. Aside from going to parties that involve free Mediterranean food and free beer, but the party doesn't require that you actually watch the game.

Maybe this will be a new recurring segment, much like the "Album of the Week" feature. Feel free to add input, or your own profound insights.

Constitutionalism.

2009-01-28T21:07:00.000-08:00

Hi folks, sorry about the recent lack of content. School has started again, obviously, and it is intense. I suppose that's what you sign up for though. Plus, I suppose I haven't lately felt very inspired to write much. I know society is descending into chaos without my album reviews, but you're just going to have to deal.

I'm listening to Horace Silver's "Song for My Father," and although I'm not willing to classify it as the "Album of the Week" yet, I would nonetheless highly recommend it.

I'm taking Constitutional Law this semester, and I have to say I do enjoy it. I've always had a bit of a soft spot in my heart for early American history. I think it'd be great to have dinner with James Madison and Alexander Hamilton, so long as they wouldn't kill each other across the table. The Constitution is such a fascinating document, and there's just so much thought that went into it. Too many people nowadays just see it as the civic religion would have you see it, as some kind of infallible "Yay us!" sort of charter. The reality, of course, is much more complex. Anytime you proclaim that your goal is to achieve a "more perfect union," while simultaneously counting a black person as 3/5 of an individual, you know there are some serious issues.

It's interesting to see how conceptions of the United States as a nation have evolved throughout the two-odd centuries since 1789. If someone asks you your nationality, I'm assuming that if you're from the United States, you'll probably say that you're American. We're so used to conceptualizing the United States as a single entity, of which the states are more or less units of administration. However, go back to 1795, and ask a citizen of the US what their nationality is, they would probably say Virginian, or New Yorker, or something to that effect. You couldn't say Minnesotan, because it didn't exist yet. To the founding generation, the "nation" was a group of sovereign states who agree to be identified as a single entity. And there was a lot of genuine fear of what would happen if the single entity would grow to become larger than the sum of its parts.

A lot of these Constitutional issues from the late 18th/19th centuries seem so obscure to us in 2009, because the Civil War settled once and for all the issue of how the country would identify itself. Sure, I'm Minnesotan, but I'm equal parts American. The federal government is a tangible element, for better or for worse, in all of our lives. We don't worry so much on whether Washington is infringing on our rights as Minnesotans. If they do, we throw a little hissy fit about local government. More often than not, we want Washington to give use money, after our dumbass governor decided it would be a good idea not to raise taxes. Funny how you end up with a $5 billion budget deficit when you put a strangle hold on income...

I mean, I'm not fully employed or anything, so maybe I'm missing something. But I get paid for my job, I see how much money is going to taxes. And to be frank, it really doesn't outrage me at all. For the good of society, that money taken from me is going to provide health care to those who need it, or to fix our crumbling national infrastructure, or to buy a laser-guided tank. Now, I don't necessarily agree with the tank, but a lot of that money is going to admirable causes. There's this cult of individualism in this country that often times is taken to the extreme. Call it socialism if you want, but everyone in the NATION should be required to collectively raise the quality of life for all.

I digress.

Point is, I love Constitutional issues, because at the heart, it's really a question of how do we live in community as free individuals. What freedoms are willing to give away for security and the good of the whole, and what are we determined to keep for ourselves? Really tough questions, when you get down to it. For example, right now, I have the freedom to laze about all night and watch TV, should I choose. But I've also committed to giving up that freedom in order to join Hamline University School of Law. That community demands I give up some of my freedom in order to contribute productively to an end goal of thoughtful legal education. To live under a constitution of any sort necessarily demands this sort of tension in everyday life, the tension between freedom and responsibility.

Now that we've established that, I have to go brief some cases.

But for your viewing pleasure, here are a few fun-filled Constitution-related photos of my brief time spent in Philadelphia this summer.

Here is my senior paper, which talked about the persistence of anti-federalism following the ratification of the Constitution in 1789, with Independence Hall.

Here I am, with said senior paper, in front of Independence Hall.

Here is the room in Independence Hall where the Constitution was signed.

Cannot get enough.

Had to post.

2009-01-26T17:55:00.001-08:00

I just had to post this.

Editorial: Mr. President

2009-01-20T19:01:00.000-08:00

This man is now the President. I already feel better.

I cannot imagine holding the office President Obama now holds. Least of all in his situation. Before even assuming office, he has become iconic, a symbol of hope and optimism. He is a celebrity politician in an age of celebrities, towering over all of them. We, the people, have chosen him to help get us out of a shithole that seems as cavernous as that cave in Mexico that people BASE jump into. Stuck in two wars, the economy is going to hell, our standing in the world has diminished, etc., etc., etc. It's a challenge, a huge challenge with no quick fixes or magic words. President Obama cannot ride in on a unicorn, wave a magic wand, or sprinkle magic hope dust on the stock market. It is hard work, that will likely get worse before it gets better.

But I, for one, am willing to trust this man. I think he has the wisdom and leadership to help us get out of this. And for that which he lacks expertise, I think he has the same wisdom to consult others who do. For too long, the Executive has ignored the opinions of others and charted a course without regard to pragmatism. For too long, we have been subject to ideology. It's time for a new way, and I feel a lot better now.

People are cynical and frustrated at our politics, and rightfully so. Look at our situation. But the President was right in invoking Washington's words, that when our situation is dire, we need to rest on our hope and our virtue. I get kind of irritated with folks who always seem so negative, since I'm typically an optimistic person who prefers to see the better side of things. Of course Obama cannot heal all of our ills, I realize that. But it is no help to harbor defeatism at a time that calls for optimism and determination. We need this hope, we can no longer afford the slash and burn fragmentation of years past. Confronted with vast challenges, we need to hope and work towards that hope.

I really appreciated President Obama's bit in his inaugural address that talked about community service and common purpose. It has inspired me, for one, to find a place where I can help. There has to be something out there I can contribute to. He is right when he says that we want to be able to tell our children that we stood up to the crisis of our times.

Of course, this is a moment of great historical significance for our country. Yesterday, I had the pleasure of listening to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "I Have A Dream Speech." To think that 46 years later, on the other end of the Mall, an African-American man takes the oath of office, it is simply incredible. Obviously this is a special moment for African-American's, especially those who fought for civil rights. But this is an equally proud moment for all Americans, regardless of color, class, or creed. We have shown the world that we are committed towards making the more perfect union embodied in our Constitution. Although the fight is not over, this is a reminder of the tremendous progress that has been made, and everyone in this country should be proud of what we have done. Nowhere else in Western society does a black man be elected President. Maybe it's a testament to our character, or whatever cliché you want to use, but I was overcome to the point of tears at the sight of it. We talk so much about justice and the words that all are created equal in stark contrast to our sordid history of race relations. The sight of Mr. Obama taking the oath of office was incredible.

The Presidency is a glorious burden, something to be bestowed upon great individuals who we hope will rise to the occasion. Sometimes they do, sometimes they do not. I'm hoping and praying that President Obama will be among those that rise. I think he will. It cannot be easy to have the hopes of 350 million Americans on your back, but if anyone is equal to the task, I think Obama is. God help him prove me right.

MLK Day

2009-01-19T11:55:00.000-08:00

I don't think a more eloquent call for justice has yet been made. This truly is a great man, in the purest sense of the word.

As we prepare to celebrate a great moment, it's a good idea to celebrate the giants upon which it stands.

Haircuts

2009-01-13T20:16:00.000-08:00

I decided to get a haircut today, as a sort of prize for surviving round one of dentistry hell. Yes, round one. It blows. I'm sure he's bringing out some sort of medieval torture device for tomorrow's fun. I think most dentists have to be sadists at heart.

I go to this haircutting salon near my house, also coincidentally near the dentist's. I'm the only man I've ever seen inside of it. As a result, I think I'm some sort of curiosity amongst the usual clientele of old women getting their hair permed and such. And the middle aged ladies who actually cut the hair. Kind of like that one white kid on the basketball team. Typically Carol cuts my hair, but she went home early today. So instead I got Therese, whom I've never had before.

Getting a haircut, to me, is just a very pleasureable experience. First of all, I cease looking like I rolled out of a bottle of whiskey, or a pedophile. Second of all, there's something soothing about having your hair combed by someone else. It's like a tiny massage for your head. Like a million little elves are doing a jig on your head, except that it's a comb.

Anyways, Therese was the haircutting equivalent of those Asian massages with the extra surprise at the end that you see advertised in the City Pages. I now feel what my dog feels like when I sit and absent-mindedly pet his head for hours on end. This woman, as haircutters do, would randomly stop cutting and yak at her fellow haircutters. But while she was doing that, she kept petting my head. It was very strange. But I can understand why dogs like it, it was quite calming. Hell, I wish she was petting my head right now. Everything she did seemed to take at least twice as long as Carol. She probably clippered me about 50 times, washed my hair for about 10 minutes, etc, etc, etc. I'm going to assume it was all an attempt to seduce me. Rejected Therese, you're not my style. I sure did like your cardigan though.

I think the strangest part was when she asked if I wanted my beard trimmed. I said I could take care of that at home. Then she asked if I wanted my eyebrows clipped. I just kind of turned and looked at her with supreme confusion on my face. I don't know how else you respond to that.

Reading Update

2009-01-12T21:08:00.000-08:00

As I may or may not have mentioned in my post about the new year, I had this grand ambition to start reading more. I'm happy to say that resolution has already started to fall flat on its face. Hit the proverbial wall.

I think part of my issue is that I attempt to read these extremely heady works. Like, I had been reading "The Wretched of the Earth" by Frantz Fanon. It's this anti-colonial political/philosophical tract written by a Martinique born doctor who sympathized with the Algerian nationalist movement. Malcolm X read it, so did the Black Panthers. And it is interesting, it makes some quite thought-provoking claims about the nature of colonized peoples. Needless to say, it's kind of eye opening to read it from the perspective of the Western "colonizer."

The other book I've been working on is "The Birth of Tragedy" by Friedrich Nietzche. It's supposedly his case for the necessity of art in life. I bought it a few years ago, thinking it'd be interesting. And it is. But I also forgot that the last time I read a piece of philosophy, it was in a philosophy class, with a philosophy professor to help me make sense of what I had read. I am desperately missing that aspect of this book. I read a few pages, and I have absolutely no clue of what just went through my brain. I thought it would help if I listened to Wagner while I read it, because Nietzche loved Wagner. Instead, I just found myself getting more distracted, because I'd start focusing on the music instead of the text, which screwed me up even farther.

On a sidenote, I picked up this LP box set of Columbia recordings that Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic did of Wagner orchestral works. I play them on my new turntable, which basically cost my life savings and a kidney. However, it is magnificent. As you may surmise, this is the Wagner that continually distracts me when I attempt to read Nietzche.

I keep asking myself whether I read this stuff because I'm actually interested in it, or whether I'm just reading it to tell other people I'm reading it. I think the answer to this lies in saying that I am interested in it, but the pretentious factor doesn't hurt either. It's true. Of course, it doesn't really help me when I have no idea of what I read.

I think most of this stems from some sort of unconscious desire to live in some sort of super intellectual 18th-19th century artistic circle. A world of grand ideas, salons, revolution, yada, yada, yada. It's too bad we can't do a "Real World" sort of thing where I live in a trendy urban loft with Tom Paine, Beethoven, Mark Rothko, Kirby Puckett, Bill Bryson, and John Coltrane. Probably Keira Knightley too. She could stay in my room.

I'm watching Lost in Translation. For those of you who haven't seen it, I would highly recommend it. Especially if you've ever traveled to Japan. Or ever felt very alone. Great film, great soundtrack too. A lot of My Bloody Valentine-esque tracks. And some great cinematography. One of my very favourite shots is when Bill Murray goes golfing, and they do this single take of him milling about a tee box in the shadow of Mount Fuji before teeing off. The whole thing lasts around 40 seconds, is one uninterrupted shot, and it is simply mesmerizing. The acting, especially Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson, is fantastic.

Alright, I'm going to go. I'm having lunch tomorrow at a Malaysian restaurant. Cannot wait.

Book Review: Blink

2009-01-07T13:30:00.000-08:00

I know, it's quite amazing. I actually read a book written by someone other than Bill Bryson. I mean, it only took around 4 months, but who's counting.

Anyways, I read this book. "Blink" by Malcolm Gladwell. It's written in a very strange style. Typically, you divide literature into fiction and non-fiction. Non-fiction tends to have a very straightforward, information packed style of presentation. That's one thing that was odd about this book. The book is not fiction, it's non-fiction. But it's written in a kind of narrative style. To be honest, I found it a bit unnerving. But then again, I read from the perspective of a person who has spent the past four years of his life poring over dense history texts, and more recently, equally dense casebooks and case opinions. So you could say, in the realm of non-fiction, I'm more used to a blander, straightforward style. I suppose there's a reason that the general public isn't in the business of reading history monographs or case opinions for fun. To wrap it up, Gladwell attempts to write non-fiction with some oddish narrative/fiction style. Proceed at your own risk.

The whole point of the book is about snap judgments, that gut feeling you get when you know the answer to something, but you can't quite explain why. Basically, Gladwell argues that snap judgments can be more effective than analytically thought out judgments. I suppose I can see his point. Everyone's had experiences where this sort of snap judgment has worked out for them. I can't think of one at the moment, but I know I've had them. Gladwell describes this whole act as your brain "thin slicing" multiple aspects of a situation at once, enabling you to come to an instantaneous conclusion.

The tagline to the book is "The Power of thinking without thinking." I think that's a bit misleading. Basically, Gladwell spends the whole book explaining how in essence, snap judgments are the products of thought, but mostly on an unconscious level. And some of his stories weren't really about "snap" judgments at all. In one chapter, he talks about this psychologist who interviews couples on tape, and after reviewing the tape, can predict with 85% accuracy or whatever whether they'll be together in 15 years. But he's not making a snap judgment, he's just closely studying the tape for non-verbal clues to the inner conscious of the individuals. So it's more an exercise in observation more than a "snap" judgment.

I think the better tagline would have been something like, "How to Tell Lots of Stuff About People By Paying Close Attention To What They Do." A lot of the book is about how you can tell a bunch of stuff about people simply by close observation. The kind of close observation that is far too advanced for 95% of society. There's a fairly interesting chapter about reading facial expressions, and how this pioneer in the field could basically tell you everything about a person just by studying their facial expressions. I did find that interesting, but Gladwell's incessant use of medical terms for the facial muscles used got very tiresome. If he's not going to include an anatomical model of the human face, the name dropping doesn't mean anything except that the author is in love with his vocabulary. That's how I felt, at least.

I did enjoy the bit about New Coke. It made me want to drink a Coke. Going along with that, the whole bit about how people judge food in different containers made sense as well. I suppose that explains why folks are convinced Coke is better in a glass bottle.

Of course, I loved the end of the book, which focused on a female trombonist auditioning for the Munich Philharmonic, and how shocked the conductor was when he discovered the best trombonist was a woman. Lawsuits followed, all hell broke loose, blah, blah, blah. I just thought it was interesting, they talked about how traditionally, the world of classical music was solely the domain of men. However, with the advent of screened auditions, where one can be judged on sound and musicianship alone, so many new faces are playing music professionally. When I went and heard the Vienna Philharmonic, it was a perfect illustration of this old guard. Old white guys played most every instrument, save "feminine" instruments such as flute.

Anyways, I digress. All in all, "Blink" was a fairly good read. I don't think I would like Malcolm Gladwell in person, he seems like a person fairly in love with himself. And sometimes, the book kind of made me go "Really?" But, I'd say it's an interesting read if you're looking for some pop-science to read on the bus.

Sports Journalism

2009-01-04T20:24:00.000-08:00

I made the mistake yesterday of listening to about 10 minutes of the Vikings game on the radio. Now, one would think that it's hard to screw up a radio broadcast. As I learned yesterday though, it is quite easy to make something that seems so simple be so offensive.

The Viking's radio man sounded like the kind of guy that lived on the floor above me at Luther (The Football Cluster). He didn't so much broadcast the game as shout it, kinda sounding like he was going through some sort of neverending roid-rage. He peppered his play by play with absolutely pointless commentary, supplemented by some sort of color man with equally pointless observations. In sum, he was like practically every person I've ever met who plays football.

If you watch ESPN at all, you know that 95% of what they say on Sportscenter is stuff they just kind of pull out of their ass. But it just seems to me that football shows, like pregame shows and NFL Tonight or whatever, they're more like 99% bullshit. And I don't quite know what it is, whether it's the result of some sort of massive testosterone imbalance or what. You can automatically tell that there's a football show on TV though, even if it's muted. There will always be the following characteristics.

1- Unneccessarily large wraparound microphones
2- Unneccessarily large tie knots
3- One African American commentator (probably a former player) arguing with a white commentator (not a player, just some guy) while an older white guy looks on amusedly

Never fails.

And don't think I'm just attacking football because of my apathy towards the sport. I cringe every time Fernando Vina and John Kruk open their mouths on Baseball Tonight. At least they can be said to have some modicum of loyalty. I think my all-time least favourite sports broadcaster is Anthony LaPanta of FSN North here in Minnesota. He does have a whiny voice, but the ultimate sin is his appearance on Twins Live in the summer, Timberwolves Live, and Wild Live. Did you hear that? He dares to split his loyalty amongst three teams? He brings his little cronies along with him too, Telly Hughes and Marny Gellner. I can't stand him. The nerve. Where is the loyalty? That's what it's all about.

I can respect broadcasters with loyalty. Herb Carneal, now he had loyalty. All he did was broadcast Twins baseball for some 40 years. John Gordon, he has loyalty. So do Dick and Bert on TV. You might notice that all of these folks are in some way connected by the Twins, but it's their fortune to be connected with the perfect game, and thus mentioned on my blog.

There used to be an excellent blog called Fire Joe Morgan that took ridiculous sports stories (mostly baseball) and ripped them to shreds in hilarious fashion. Unfortunately, they shut down a month or so ago. That's a shame, it was a great site.

Jan. 1

2009-01-01T19:43:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year's folks, hope you all celebrated in style. I had a relatively subdued evening, but that was a hell of a lot better than the violent illness I experienced last new year's.

I was trying to think if I had any notable New Year's resolutions. I don't know, it seems to me that New Year's resolutions are typically an exercise in futility. There's something so concrete, so definite about them that just sets one up for failure. I think one of mine for the last year was to read more books. Maybe a book a month. Well, I failed horribly in that regard, meaning I do not have a neat stack of 12 completed books anywhere. However, I did read a few, which is a positive step.

In keeping with that, I think instead of making resolutions, I'll just think of areas where I need to expand a bit. I think the top of my list this year is going back to living a more healthy lifestyle. Although realistically, I probably will not get the regular workouts of the hard body plan, I can do my own exercises and watch what I eat. When the weather warms up, I can start riding my bike to school again, which will be positive.

Again, I would like to expand my reading. I got a gift card to Barnes and Noble from my friend for taking care of his rabbit while he's in Mexico, so I went and purchased a collected volume of four of E.M. Forster's novels. I think I'll read those. I'm actually in the middle of Fanon's "Wretched of the Earth" right now. I found it in the Luther library book sale last year, remembered talking about it in my civil rights course, and thought it'd be interesting. It is. I also want to read The Motorcycle Diaries, finish Founding Brothers, and maybe start in on Dark Continent. It's about Europe's twentieth century, it was actually a book assigned for a course I took in England but (cough) failed to read (cough). It looks interesting though.

I think I also want to be a bit more exploratory. Admittedly, I'm somewhat of a creature of habit. I enjoy routine, familiarity. But in such a vibrant community as the Twin Cities, I should really take advantage of different opportunities. That would also require a re-prioritization of funds I suppose, but that'd probably be okay. I could sacrifice a few CD's for a ticket to an orchestra concert.

Going along with that, it would be nice to be a bit more socially exploratory. Maybe reconnect with some older friends I've fallen out of contact with, hopefully make some new ones. I think this will be the most challenging area of expansion.

I had a hellish week at work. Pharmacy is not my life's passion, nor is retail. Just have to get through today, then I'm done for a while. My cousin is in town this weekend, so I'm hoping to hook up with him and maybe grab some lunch or something. Have to feed this stupid rabbit, etc, etc, etc. I think on Monday, I'll spend the day drinking coffee and watching Seinfeld. Unless something more exciting comes along.

Album of the Week: Blood on the Tracks

2008-12-30T07:33:00.000-08:00

Hi folks, hope you all had a good Christmas/Hanukkah/Holiday. In case you didn't get enough stuff under your tree, lucky you, I have another gift. A brand new Album of the Week review, back from hiatus!

I don't quite know what my deal has been lately, but I've been on a bit of a Dylan fetish. I ordered a poster (for those of you at Luther, the poster that used to hang in my and Klein's dorm), have bought/have been gifted two albums, and was gifted a pair of Wayfarer sunglasses, the kind he wore in the poster I bought two subjects ago. Maybe I have a seasonal mancrush going on.

But then gain, how can you not have a mancrush on a guy who produces albums like "Blood on the Tracks"? I'm sorry folks, but this is fantastic music. Actually, you know what this is? This is Real music. This is like, essential music. Let me tell you why.

If Wikipedia is to be believed, and I'm sure it is, Blood was recorded shortly after Dylan's separation with his wife at the time, thus serving as the inspiration for most of the songs. And you can certainly tell. I think the most distinctive part of this album is the intense, powerful emotion that radiates forth from Bob's singing. It's emotional involvement in a song brought to the cusp of being tangible, you almost feel as if there is a man sitting next to you ripping his heart out and putting it on a plate. It's like Bob Dylan is forcefeeding you, the listener, his most inner turmoil. Now who doesn't want to be witness to that?

I know, I know, some of the more fragile types out there probably don't want to subject themselves to tales of emotional damage and broken relationships. But along with the melancholy is a certain sort of, well, let's call it sweetness. Maybe that's not the right word, but frankly, I can't think of anything better. Although the subject matter is depressing, it's not as if the album is a dirge. There's a sort of je ne sais quois that allows songs of such desperation to be so pleasing to the ear.

As you no doubt have realized, I have no idea what I'm talking about. I haven't named any songs, have gone into no detail. That's not to say I haven't listened to this record, I've listened to it almost constantly for a week. But I decided it would be foolish for me to try to review music in the same way Rolling Stone reviews music. I decided it's better for me to review the broad wash of the music, to evaluate what it made me think about or feel.

But since we're talking about details, I think my favourite songs thus far would have to be "Tangled Up In Blue," "Simple Twist of Fate,""Shelter From the Storm," and "Buckets of Rain." A few of these will probably be instantly recognizable to the common listener, but that's okay. They're good songs, there's a reason they're recognizable.

What I like most about Dylan's songs are the fact that they actually have something to say. They tell a story, they don't attempt to reduce the vagaries of human interaction into some sort of bullshit cliché. I think Dylan has a gift for diction and the fitting of words into songs. He can manage to cram in 15 syllables in the space a lesser singer could only do 4, and still make it sound elegant and musical. It must be liberating to have such a gift to tell the story you want to tell to music, and the world is benefiting from said liberation.

You know, most of this album is quiet and acoustic, suitable for the subject matter. It's the kind of music that's probably best listened to alone, or if you've been recently jilted. A lot of folks object to Bob's nasally voice, but set to the simplicity of a few guitars, a bass, and occasionally some drums, it sounds like the sweetest sound on earth. I would highly recommend checking this album out. Probably don't want to play it at your New Year's party, but I'm sure it would be good once all the guests have left.

Radio Show (Updated with Hilarious Link!)

2008-12-23T19:25:00.000-08:00

I've been listening with increasing frequency to NPR this fall, somewhat spurred on via a few friends of mine who enjoy their Saturday quiz show. Needless to say, I have not listened to the quiz show, but have enjoyed their news coverage. Another item I've taken to listen to via podcast is the "This American Life" show put out from Chicago, hosted by Mr. Ira Glass as pictured above. Some of the stories I find uninteresting, but mostly, I'm a fan. Being a child of the internet generation, I'm typically dismissive of entertainment that is so, what is the word, non-visual. Non-interactive, if you will. It's hard to interest folks in sitting down and listening to the radio when in the alternative, you could watch videos of guys getting kicked in the balls on Youtube.

But there is a certain old time charm to radio. An FDR, fireside chat kind of vibe. I liken it a lot to how people suddenly seem to favour vinyl over CD's. In some ways, the sparseness of radio makes it more tangible, the history of it makes it more relatable. Distilled down to the simplest of communications, the effect of the spoken word comes through with more force than it ever does on television. No distractions, at least none through the fault of the radio. No asshole talking head commentators raving into the camera while throwing what is essentially, a five year old's tantrum.

Of course, maybe I just like public radio because I can then tell people I listen to public radio. After adjusting my scarf and wiping the snow off of the "Obama 08" sticker still on my car.

I know, it needs to come off now.

Anyways, the point. I thought about what I would talk about if I had my own radio show. I find it very doubtful that I could fill 55 minutes or so of myself talking. I find myself to be one of those folks who has a myriad of semi-strong interests, but no real defined niche. Meaning, I love to play music, and am a fairly good trombonist, but could not do it for a living. I probably would not make an effective busker, unless I practiced for about a year. I'm a fan of red wine, but really have very little knowledge of what I'm talking about. I know more about craft beer, but that is still rather limited knowledge. I like the idea of social justice, but don't have the intellectual info-bank to back it all up. I do enjoy a cup of good coffee, but maybe lack the patience to really sit down and try different beans from different regions. I'm interested in good food, but cannot cook. Enjoy working out, but lack motivation. Like history, but would rather read a book than write one myself. Do enjoy watching the game of baseball and philosophizing about it, but cannot play. I like to try though. Maybe that's the whole point.

I could maybe talk about music, I maybe have increased my knowledge of music to a level of limited expertise. Jazz, perhaps. I could spend an hour chatting about the history of jazz, album reviews, etc. And I think I'd like that a lot. But I lack the technical expertise to break down scale choices and chords. It would be more just myself talking. Maybe telling stories. Who knows. I think maybe I could choose a topic, and then bring on qualified experts to talk to me about it.

Perhaps, maybe we could do a show on, say, Somalia. Why is it so messed up? Why are there pirates? What can be done? What should we be doing? Just, what the hell is going on, and why should we care? And every week, there would be a new topic. What does a peace corps volunteer do? How did black nationalism relate into popular culture? How does one make Scotch whiskey? Who knows?

In effect, I have no idea what I would talk about on the radio. Often times, I think maybe I should focus my interests and free time to a single area, and get really good at that. I tried to do that in the past with jazz scales, chaos theory, French language, to little effect. I think I've come to the conclusion that I'm more comfortable with having a wider range of more limited interests, with a few areas of specialty. Undoubtedly partially related to my liberal arts background, it's good to be fluent in many languages, as it were.

I once told a friend of mine in high school that if she were to come to a costume party, she would have to be an undefined niche, because she didn't have a "defined" sense of who she was, besides being scorchingly attractive. I thought it was all a gag, but maybe that was a better idea than I thought. Being an undefined niche is not so bad an idea after all.

Update - The Onion documents a stunning achievement of This American Life

1/6

2008-12-19T16:23:00.000-08:00

1/6 of the way complete with my legal education. I feel as if I should have some sort of wise insight to share with humanity, relating the intrinsic worth of law to society. Unfortunately, I don't quite think I have such immortal wisdom. Or at least, I don't necessarily feel the urge to relate it at present. I can say this though, it's a very different world than Luther College. Not a better or a worse world, but a very different one. I like it, but I'm excrutiatingly happy to have a break.

Final went well. It was a very intense two weeks, but it's now over. I'm looking forward to a weekend spent with good friends, of like mind, and of good conversation. Plus, it will be fun to play some trombone. Anyways, in celebration of the end of the semester, I also ordered a Dylan CD off of the internet. Plus My Morning Jacket. Never bought an album of theirs before, but I listen to their stuff on the current quite often, and I like it.

Speaking of which, the Album of the Week feature has suffered with the stresses of law school. I assure you, it will return with a vengeance. I know all of you have besides yourselves without my telling you what music to listen to.

If any of you all are not busy on Sunday night, please check out the holiday party at my pops' place. It will be good. Wear a sweater.

Round 4

2008-12-16T18:29:00.001-08:00

"The groans, ineffably and mournfully sad, of Davies' dying donkey, have resounded around the earth. The last lingering gaze from the soft, mild eyes of this docile animal, like the last parting sunbeams of the softest day in spring, has appealed to and touched the hearts of men. There has girdled the globe a band of sympathy for Davies' immortal “critter.” Its ghost, like Banquo's ghost, will not down at the behests of the people who are charged with inflicting injuries, nor can its groanings be silenced by the rantings and excoriations of carping critics. The law as enunciated in that case has come to stay." 56 So. 783.

The above is both a perfect reason to love and despise torts. Seriously, it's from an actual case.

Last exam, the end of the first semester is nigh. I can trim my NHL playoff beard. If you need to contact me between 5:00 PM on Thursday, December 18 and mid January, probably just check at the nearest bar.

Round 3

2008-12-15T07:12:00.001-08:00

Promissory estop this.

Round 2

2008-12-10T17:18:00.000-08:00

Suck it.

Round 1

2008-12-07T18:13:00.000-08:00

Civil Procedure, prepare to become my bitch.

Nothing.

2008-12-02T21:07:00.003-08:00

I have become convinced that there is no more perfect balm for educationally induced stress than a half hour spent with Jerry, George, Elaine, and Kramer.

I spent the whole day milling about school, getting called on in Contracts (which I suppose wasn't that bad) and trying to wrap my brain around the vagaries of United States civil procedure, which may have been written by a group of confusing men and a very large bottle of scotch. Surviving only on a peanut butter sandwich, some sort of nut granola bar, and a cup of coffee. Then I spent some two hours at night sitting at Starbucks, once again trying to distill civil procedure into some sort of coherent, manageable framework. Lest I forget, there was also the contracts case I read that spent five pages poring over the correct interpretation of the word "chicken."

After all of that and a hellacious two weeks ahead, a show about nothing sounds like a very good idea.

Thanksgiving.

2008-11-27T16:43:00.000-08:00

For the year, a list of sorts...

1- Family
2- Good friends, wherever they are
3- Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale
4- Having a working automobile
5- Free rent
6- Walking the dog
7- Health
8- Being able to play the trombone
9- Steady employ
10- Traveling to Brasil and playing music
11- Planet Earth BBC series
12- The number 12
13- Tom Paine
14- Revolutionary American history
15- Dry humour
16- Barack Obama winning the election
17- The three French sketches in my basement
18- Watching the Twins play baseball
19- Classy parties
20- Red wine
21- Plaid shirts
22- The color blue
23- Graduating from college
24- Crisp winter days, with light snow
25- Mulled wine on those crisp winter days
26- Mexican food
27- The ugly Christmas sweater I bought at Goodwill last winter
28- Having an equalizer that makes the little colored bars go up and down
29- The Nine
30- Large mugs, with plenty of stories behind them
31- Trombone choir
32- Dr. Smith
33- Law school
34- Half Price Books
35- This audio cabinet we "requisitioned" from Smith's office
36- Drinking good coffee
37- John Coltrane
38- Being able to play frisbee golf
39- The hard body workout
40- Being pretentious
41- Having my facebook profile photo on the front of the Luther yearbook
42- Glassware from foreign countries
43- Freedom from want
44- Tony Guzman
45- Being able to run a 5K without walking
46- The feeling after you turn in a big paper
47- California Burger Night
48- Bill Evans
49- St. Patrick's Day with Ryan
50- Having a semi-adult relationship
51- The new Twins ballpark
52- Mark Rothko prints
53- Watching Seinfeld on Friday afternoons after Jazz Orchestra, having a Coke
54- Doing juvenile things on the weekends
55- Being able to say things that needed to be said
56- American Airlines paying to fix my trombone that they broke
57- Making it back from Brasil in time for Scott's wedding
58- Books by Bill Bryson
59- Minnesota Public Radio
60- The view from Corcovado
61- Reminiscing
62- Feeling proud after my trombone recital
63- Making new friends
64- Playing "Who Puts His Trust"
65- Dressing up like a ballplayer and running around the CFL like an idiot
66- Being able to laugh at oneself
67- Possibilities
68- Bob Dylan albums
69- Living in community
70- Khaki pants
71- This green couch
72- Being able to think
73- Patience
74- That scarf I got in LaCrosse
75- Keeping in touch
76- Being content
77- That free cup of coffee I got on Election Day
78- Russian History class
79- The night in Cabo Frio with the caipirinhas
80- Live music
81- Catching a baseball at the Saints game
82- Cuban cigars
83- Luther College
84- Vinyl records
85- Good memories
86- Thursday evenings at La Rana
87- My blue pullover thing
88- Even numbered seats
89- Baking an edible pie
90- Keeping an open mind
91- Stride piano
92- Guinness
93- Older friends
94- Still having hair
95- Thoughtful conversations
96- People who read this blog
97- Organization
98- Remaining curious
99- J-term science with Grandpa
100- Thinking I'll enjoy what I think will be my job
101- Certain ladies
102- Coffeehouses
103- Getting emails from my Japanese friends
104- Organic chicken
105- Living spaces that do not feel like a middle schooler's wet dream
106- Trombone music
107- Black luggage
108- New glasses
109- Those New Yorker magazines all over the damn floor
110- Early mornings
111- Swing dancing
112- Being alive and well
113- European stuff
114- Snow

Globalisation

2008-11-16T10:53:00.000-08:00

Hey folks, how's it going? I'm happy to report that I turned in my research memo this morning at approximately 9:10 AM, CST. The damn thing had basically been my life for the past 3 weeks or so. So, suck it memo, you got yours. Needless to say, I celebrated with a very large glass of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale with friends after class ended.

Now revising for finals starts. Can't seem to catch a break. Shit...

In other news, I'm once again joining my dad in the annual Turkey Trot 5K run on Thanksgiving this morning. And once again, I decided it would be a good idea to start training the week before the race. As this indicates, the solo attempt at the Hard Body Plan without my workout friends has been less than successful. Tomorrow morning will not be pleasant. Probably should put a pillow down to catch me when I inevitably fall out of bed after trying to stand on my useless legs. I must say though, today I ran with my iPod for the first time, and it is really quite revolutionary. Listened to the tail end of a broadcast of "This American Life," as well as some Arcade Fire. For those of you not familiar with "This American Life," I highly recommend you subscribe. It's really quite fascinating. This week's episode was about the Great Depression, and some of the stories were very moving. So this is why all those damn latté sipping, arugula eating, EAST COAST LIBERAL ELITES listen to public radio. It's interesting...

Anyways, I've had a recent email correspondence with a Japanese friend of mine, a woman who I stayed with for two nights on our Concert Band tour to Japan and China. Keep in mind, this happened nearly 4 years ago, but yet this woman (Chie) still loves to keep in touch with my friend Benjamin and myself. She teaches English at a local school. During our 36 hour stay with her and her family, we got to know them pretty well, and seemingly connected on a much deeper level than did many of our musical cohorts. The two of us made fast friends with her little boy Keito and had quite a few laughs with saké swilling Grandpa at dinner. Honest to God, the dude downed an orange juice carton full of saké in probably an hour and a half, all while talking about WWII and nuclear bombs. In Japanese. Once we finally figured out what the hell he was talking about, both of us felt just a little bit awkward.

Needless to say, those were probably the most fun times I had on the tour, speaking for myself only. Chie and Keito took us to an ancient samurai castle, a beautiful Japanese garden, and a shopping mall so I could purchase a horrendously overpriced Japanese baseball jersey with an idiot look on my face. We also explored around their house with Keito. And of course, we had more adventures in Japanese cuisine. If I remember, that was the night we dipped the raw meat and tofu into the raw egg, washed down with a Kirin.

See look, it really happened!

Look at that beautiful head of hair and the sweet pajamas! Some things never change. Still have the pajamas, still have that stunning Hawaiian shirt. The beautiful head of hair...

It's just somewhat amazing to me, that a singular interaction that lasted barely 36 hours over 3 years ago has continued to stay so vibrant. That with a click of a button, I can talk to a person worlds apart, both in time, space, and culture. Chie sent me some photos last week of her class Halloween party. She was excited that I was going to law school, hoped I enjoyed it. And every time she writes, she talks about how much they miss Benjamin and myself, and how eager they are to have us back in Kumamoto. Sorry, that's just pretty frekking sweet. There are people halfway around the world that I barely got to know who are inviting me to come hang out, 3 years after the fact. Fairly intense.

Chie, Hidekazu, Keito, Erin, Grandma, Grandpa, this blog post is hereby dedicated to you. Kumpai.

Grandpa, I still use those chopsticks you carved. And that decorative gourd thing you made is in my room. That was a much cooler gift than my Minnesota photo book and Benjamin's chocolate. Don't you hate being upstaged? Life's a bitch sometimes.

Sober Realizations

2008-11-10T21:11:00.000-08:00

This title really has dual meanings. First of all, I'm sober as I'm realizing. Secondly, the realizations are sober. Amazing.

Although with this damn research memo, I could probably do with a change in the first characteristic.

But anyways, I was browsing my iPhoto library today, looking for the perfect photo to set as my desktop. As is my wont, I usually select a photo from my year in England, and the travels that accompanied it. So, I did have a scene of the Welsh highlands before, and I recently had a photo I took of a favourite road sign in Vienna. Who else thinks that the intersection of "Beethovengang" and "Eroicagasse" is hilarious?

But anyways, I settled on a photo that I took from the top of the Aiguille du Midi in Chamonix, France. Right in the shadow of Mont Blanc. And, I might add, one of my most vivid and happy memories. Hell, I'll just post the photo. It's absolutely magnificent.

Imagine actually seeing that with your own eyes, thousands of feet above the valley floor.

This past weekend, I got to talk to a friend of mine who is an "actual adult," working a steady professional job, (currently) outside the graduate academia that myself and most of my friends have cocooned up inside. And it was very nice to chat. One thing that came up was my friend's realization that barring a career change or further education, she was in the life cycle of work that could very well consume her for 40 some years. After college, in that working world, as a "real adult," well, it's a sobering reality.

I think of myself, who takes great pride in my European exploits. I've looked at the photos for so long, I've just sort of assumed that it was my destiny to continue that jet-setting lifestyle, going off for month long escapades without a care in the world. My conversation this weekend, combined with a sudden realization of my own imminent professional life, well, that kinda put a damper on things. The reality is that the likelihood of another month spent criscrossing the globe is rather slim. Maybe one more brief trip this summer. But after that, real life sets in. Work, school, friends, (presumably) a family. The proverbial "tying down" that inevitably happens.

It also doesn't help that my old friend Rick Steves keeps sending me emails. He always seems to be sitting in a Parisien cafe sipping coffee as he blogs, too. It's like rubbing salt in a wound. Not you too Rick.

Now, I'm not exactly a believer in the dichotomy that once work starts, dreams die. Or something to that extent. But I'm also a realist, I suppose. The likelihood of me living and working in London is probably rather slim. Doesn't mean it won't happen, but the odds are stacked against it. Barring that though, I'll just have to take advantage of other situations, I suppose.

I might buy a Chamonix poster. Or go hear a symphony this weekend. Who knows.

Album of the Week: Elis & Tom

2008-11-08T20:56:00.000-08:00

Evening folks. We're heading back to Brasil for a little bossa nova action for this week's recommendation. Music fans, say "Oi! Tudo bem!" to Elis Regina and Antonio Carlos Jobim.

I picked this album up in Rio de Janeiro this summer. And I'm not just saying that to sound pretentious, I literally did purchase it in Rio, at an extremely overpriced record shop near our hotel. I had taken down a list of musicians from Tony and went in there and showed it to an employee, and asked him in Portugenglish if he could point me to some good albums. This particular album is the one he told me I absolutely had to walk out of the store with. I quickly realized why. This is music of such intense passion, it is incredible.

The thing that I believe distinguishes this from other bossa nova albums is the fact that many of the pieces aren't really bossa pieces at all. There's a lot of string action going on, and a lot of solo voice work. Because of this, the overall tone of this album is incredibly intimate. Intimate to the point that you almost feel as if you're intruding on something you have no business hearing. There's a certain nakedness to the production, a harsh juxtaposition of voice and piano, or voice and strings. Not harsh in the traditional sense, but harsh rather in the starkness of the music.

By far, my favourite track on this album is Só tinha de ser com você. The use of the electric piano gives it just the right tinge of beachside schmaltz, while utilizing a funky little swing figure throughout to give it some bounce. Simply fantastic. There's also quite an emotional rendition of Corcovado. I think I like it better than Astrud Gilberto's version. The fact that everything is in Portuguese, and there is no lameass attempt to translate the meaning into English helps greatly, I feel. I'm sorry, but I am not a fan of translation in music. People should listen to art in the form that it comes to them. There's this idea out there that everything needs to be tailor made to the consumer. Maybe in some sense, this is true. Like if I were buying a kitchen appliance or something. I'd want my appliance to do what I want. But when it comes to works of art, the point is to tailor it to one audience, if there's one at all. Art is a product of the society in which it is made, and to try and cram it into a different societal framework, well, I think that's a bad idea.

So listen to this in Portuguese and don't complain that you can't understand it. That adds to the romance, the exoticism.

I really don't have a whole lot else to say. I drank too much coffee too late at night after getting up too early and have a bit of a headache. But I popped this into the carousel, and life was good again. Can't say much more than that. If you're into bossa nova and/or want some genuinely fantastic music, go buy this album.

You'll almost certainly pay less than I did.

I would kill for a caipirinha right now.

YES YES YES YES YES

2008-11-04T21:30:00.000-08:00

Remember this night folks, because this is the sort of stuff that gets written down in history books.

Tonight, America elected a black man as our President. Less than half a century ago, black people could not eat at a lunch counter with you or I, nor could they use the same drinking fountain. They were routinely disenfranchised.

And right now, America has selected a black man as our President, the individual who personifies our nation to the rest of the world.

This is momentous. Earth shattering, absolutely incredible. I will be telling my kids in the future that I voted for Barack Obama. People will look back at this night and say, "That generation did something special."

But we did not just elect a black man. We elected an individual with the highest degree of intellectual curiosity and vigor, an individual with sound judgment and a broad worldview, an individual who chooses to bridge our divisions rather than exploit them. And I'm sorry to my Republican friends, but the current occupant of the White House is the absolute antithesis of President-Elect Obama.

We showed the world that we choose to live up to our ideals of equality and freedom. Ideals that so often seem like shadows or illusions, ideals that seem out of reach for too many of our countrymen and women. "All men are created equal," our most sacred document states. For too long we neglected that. And to a certain extent, we still do. But tonight, we took a giant step towards that nebulous ideal that we always seem to be striving for.

For too long, this nation has chosen to favor the wealthy over the many. For too long, we have conducted our foreign affairs with arrogance and disdain for other viewpoints. For too long, we have allowed our people to suffer. Here, in the richest nation on earth, we have folks who cannot afford health care, cannot find jobs, cannot keep up with inflation. This is no time to play around with strategies already proven to fail. This is the time to try something new. This is the time for transformation.

Idealistic? Yes. Overly hopeful? Quite possibly. But folks, this country was founded on idealism. It was founded on the ridiculous hope that 13 backwater colonies could defeat the greatest military power known to man. It was founded on a complete change from the Old World, a transformation to a bastion of freedom and respect for human rights. I'm sorry folks, but idealism is woven through the fabric of this country. Those of you afraid of it, afraid of change, maybe you need to rethink exactly what this country is.

I've never felt so proud of my country. Absolutely incredible.

Nov. 4th

2008-11-03T21:09:00.000-08:00

Vote.

Vote

2008-11-02T19:00:00.000-08:00

Hey folks. Just a quick reminder to the internet void, if you live in the United States, make sure you go out and vote on November 4th.

I will never forget, my 4th grade baseball coach (and subsequent middle school principal) told our team one day that as soon as we turned 18, we had to register to vote. It's a civic duty that far too many people brush off. Millions of our countrymen and women have died supporting rights like these, and it would be shameful to repudiate their sacrifice and our own democratic heritage so tastelessly.

The fact of the matter remains that this election is important. Probably an understatement. And we're all sick of the campaigning and all the TV ads, yada, yada, yada. It will be over on Wednesday, but the choice we make will have repercussions far beyond. Our own national interest is at stake, that's true. We have a lot of problems that need fixing, from the economy to education. But, even though we may scoff at it, the international interest is at stake as well. The US remains the world's foremost power, and whether we realize it or not, our actions have massive effects on the world community. And frankly, I'm tired of having to add the caveat to foreign persons that no, not all Americans are like George W. Bush.

I believe that our nation needs transformational change. That doesn't necessarily mean that we radically alter all of our policies or whatever. It doesn't mean instant Scandinavian style social democracy, or anything like that. But it does mean that we need to project a substantially different version of ourselves to the rest of the world. We need to show that we are still the America that people used to idealize, that people trusted. No more of this cowboy mentality, let's embrace the opportunity to coordinate and cooperate. Let's live up to our best version of ourselves.

A new America needs a new leader. It needs one who represents the best in all of us, it needs one who has the ability to adapt to a changing world. John F. Kennedy once said that the torch had been passed to a new generation of Americans. That's what we need now, a new generation, a new face for a new age. We cannot base our politics and our national discourse on pettiness and cultural warfare when there are so many challenges to face. That's what I'll vote for.

But even if you don't share my views, make sure you go out and vote. It's something we take too lightly, the privilege of living in a country where we have a say.

Plus, Starbucks will give you a free cup of coffee.

Video Fun

2008-10-30T20:56:00.000-07:00

Absolutely ridiculous. Utterly stupid. In no way advantageous to the advancement of the public discourse.

But damn, it's the funniest thing I've seen all week. God love ya Dave.

I especially like the bit where the guy in the dog suit joins the gaggle of Sarah Palins.

Did everyone enjoy the Barack Obama variety half hour show the other night?

But this one takes the cake I think. Fantastic.

New Glasses

2008-10-27T21:36:00.000-07:00

Selecting a new pair of glasses is probably the most difficult task any individual faces. It's not like buying a shirt, which can be impulsive, or buying music, which springs out of a hobby or interest. Glasses, if you're so burdened to require them, are an accessory that is probably more vital than anything to how you are perceived by the world.

Going along with my trait of indecisiveness and guarded action, I had quite the time attempting to pick out new glasses in the last week or so since my old ones finally succumbed.

I have to say, it was bittersweet when they broke. I mean, these are items that I've had on my face for the better part of 3 years or so. When I look back at photos of myself in my college glory years, be it traveling Europe or playing trombone or whatever, I'm wearing those glasses. That's saying something, you know? But it was time to execute some sort of change anyways. The lacquer was starting to wear off, which isn't quite as desirable on glasses as it is on trombones. Mellower sound, you know?

Far more than any other accessory, glasses need to say something fundamental about who you are as a person. As such, any potential glasses-buyer needs to walk into the vision store with some set of requirements to be fulfilled. A list, if you will, of things the glasses need to say about your persona. Or at least, how you want your persona to be outwardly projected.

My list, you ask?

1- I listen to lots of jazz
2- I listen to lots of other music too
3- Slightly pretentious/sophisticated
4- Grounded in reality
5- Normal
6- Individual
7- Of course I'll take you (insert beautiful woman here) to the concert
8- Dammit, I'm socially incompetent, but try to ignore that

As you can clearly see, buying glasses is an exercise in contradiction. Because people are inherently contradictions, at least the people I know. You think they feel one way, and then it turns out completely the opposite. Whilst you remain supremely oblivious.

So basically you want your glasses to showcase different and conflicting sides of your personality, while still unifying those different sides under some common theory. Maybe it's an exercise in futility, like Einstein trying to find a single unifying theory to nature. But I can go through my realistic life without knowing a unifying theory to nature. The same cannot be said for glasses that make me look like a douchebag. And if you take a look at people around you, I think there are many people who could have spared a little more time and thought process into the purchasing of glasses.

Anyways, to tie this up, the glasses I showcased here last week are alas, not to be mine for much longer. Through the fortuitous blend of ill fit and the voice of God booming from burning bush in the middle of Pearle Vision, I upgraded my new glasses to rimless frames. Rectangular ones. The sort of pair I used to drool on while browsing the eyeglass stores in Nottingham. And yes, that most assuredly played a role. Glasses just wouldn't fit on me if they didn't contain some sort of half pained yet still real memory of a far off home. Anyways, they had to be sent away to be made, I'll attempt to post photos once they show up again. Maybe the internet void can match them against my list.

Album of the Week: Symphony No. 9

2008-10-24T21:30:00.000-07:00

Evening folks. There are some things in the world that are so significant, it really doesn't do much good to "review" them in the traditional sense. In a natural sense, it's rather worthless to write out impressions of the Grand Canyon. There's a hugeness to it, a complexity that is so incredibly beautiful and mind boggling as to nearly touch whatever man considers to be the sublime. But people try, nonetheless. There are man-made artifacts that approach this level of complexity, albeit on a much more mortal scale. I think of buildings like the Hagia Sophia or the Colosseum. Or maybe monumental paintings, works of literature, etc. Composers attempt this sort of task as well. But as far as I can tell, out of all the combined wisdom of humankind and all the genius of its brightest minds, one item seems to stand above the rest in touching the sublime. That would be Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

It's a strange existence, being a monumental piece of art. On one hand, you're revered. On the other hand, by no fault of your own, you become a piece of pop culture, far removed from the fluffy red pillows and gilded concert halls that you're used to. Folks use your image to decorate their trendy loft apartments, they nod off references to you in order to appear more "cultured," your own integrity sometimes seems worn away by overexposure. I mean, most everyone in the world has seen photos of the Mona Lisa. It's ubiquitous. So when you would actually come across it, you're so desensitized that you don't even quite know what you're looking at. Reminds of Platonic forms and such. You think maybe the scales will fall from your eyes and you will observe the "true" Mona Lisa. But instead, no matter how hard you try, you still see the shadows on the wall of the cave. Such is life also for Beethoven's masterwork. It's become so infused with our society that no one in the general public knows what the big deal is anymore.

I could rattle off a whole bunch of shit that I learned in classical music history about Beethoven. I could talk about him "flexing his musical muscles" and nearly single handedly changing the course of Western musical expression, yada, yada, yada. But most people, unless you're a music geek, don't care. Most everyone knows my fondness for "integrated" works of music. I love pieces and albums that are interconnected. A few months ago I wrote a review of "Abbey Road" that focused almost exclusively on that fact. Well, Beethoven's Ninth is like Abbey Road. Integrated musicianship at its finest.

The kicker to Beethoven's Ninth of course, is the monumental final movement. The choral movement, the one with the "Ode to Joy" theme. Most people don't pay attention to the beginning of the movement, where the orchestra basically recaps the first three movements in a little dialogue between the cellos and the remainder of the orchestra. Just as you would read personification into great literature, you can read it here, as each section of the orchestra becomes a distinct personality, coming alive in either acceptance or rejection of the prior three themes. Quite ingenious, when you think about it. It's sort of like a movie trailer, previewing what's going to happen next.

Eventually, the "Ode to Joy" theme wins the cello's approval, and the rest of the orchestra tosses it about for a bit. And then a very odd instrument picks up the musical football: a voice.

Never before was anyone stupid enough to write a voice into a symphony, much less an entire chorus. The world of the symphony was a segregated one. The voices picked up their proverbial lunch at the rear of the proverbial orchestra. Mixing voice and orchestra together in this manner was akin to the four Greensboro boys sitting down at the lunch counter at Woolworth's and refusing to get up. The "color line" in orchestra music was broken, and it afforded a new intermingling of colors and musicianship to the symphonic repertoire. Jackie Robinson stepping onto Ebbets Field. Martin Luther King Jr. speaking at the Lincoln Memorial. Barack Obama (fingers crossed) winning the Presidency. Voices singing along with orchestra in a symphony. All the same.

But there's so much more to this than just a couple singers sitting in with an orchestra! The poem that Beethoven chose for the 9th Symphony was written by a German fellow by the name of Friedrich Schiller, who was widely known as an intellectual, philosopher, playwright, and advocate of natural rights. The poem, "Ode to Joy," did not just mean something so prosaic as odeing to joy. "Joy," in the early 19th century meant a lot more to the general populace than it does today. Basically, it was a buzzword for "freedom." And in the aftermath of the Enlightenment and the French Revolution, a lot of folks had freedom on their mind. Freedom from centuries of feudal government and class dominated social structure. Beethoven, who was himself something of an outsider, couldn't get enough of this idea. And this dude lived it, he was the first major freelance composer, beholden to no noble or other princely figure. In fact, he got pretty pissed off when you talked about aristocracy. In essence, the liberation of the symphony from the traditional chains of form and expression, the setting of the Schiller text, the addition of the human element in voice, Beethoven created a musical establishment of his utopian idea of universal brotherhood. No barriers, no classes, nothing.

This piece is an absolute behemoth. It clocks in near an hour. And every nanosecond of it is a masterpiece of the highest caliber. In my opinion, which I will shove down your throats since this is my blog, this is the single greatest piece of music ever created by man. In fact, it almost seems so magisterial that it could not have come from man, that instead it was only transmitted through a mortal's pen from the gods. I don't know what other explanation there is. It's a tribute to Beethoven's genius, that this came from the pen of a deaf man. No way a mere human creates this sort of thing. No way.

Not to pour on the sap or anything, but this is also one of very few things in life that almost without exception, brings tears to my eyes. I listened to the fourth movement as I wrote this post, and I did tear up. Like I said, it's incredible. I would get the manuscript tattooed around my leg.

I don't care what recording you get, but make sure it's a quality one. I have the London Symphony Orchestra recording of the entire Beethoven symphonic cycle, and they do a fantastic job. Our own Minnesota Orchestra also has an extremely highly regarded Beethoven cycle out there, in fact it's kind of freaking the classical music world right out. But make no mistake, this is a piece of art that you absolutely must own. I mean, damn it, we should be having to pay Jesus a thank you tax or something every time this is played. Or we should have to put on tuxedos whenever we listen to it. But we don't. Artwork this amazing is available to us for a one time purchase fee, and after that, it's always there.

Cut through the popular caricature. Buy this symphony, put it on in a darkened room, and just sit and listen. I don't care if all you listen to is horrible punk music, or KS95, or jazz, or Broadway shows, or whatever. Listen to this whole symphony, the whole damn hour. Do not do anything else. Don't talk, don't even think. Just listen. And play it real loud, especially the fourth movement.

You'll thank me for it.

Jewish Glasses

2008-10-20T19:22:00.000-07:00

I had an interesting cross cultural experience tonight.

By luck of the draw, I was one of 9 students picked from a signup sheet to have dinner at my civil procedure professor's house. But this was no ordinary dinner party. Rather, my professor is a fairly devout Jew who constructs his own sukkah in his backyard each year to celebrate the Jewish festival of Sukkot. Basically, the sukkah is a temporary wooden shelter, where the family eats its meals during the festival. It's meant to remind Jewish folks of their ancestors wandering 40 years in the wilderness following the exodus from Egypt. Needless to say, I got chosen and I went. Conveniently enough, it turns out he lives about a block and a half from my place up here in St. Paul. So I walked. Literally maybe 3 minutes away.

And you know, it was really insightful. His wife cooked an amazing meal which the 11 of us shared outside in the sukkah. Some great salad, sun-dried tomato/pesto lasagna, and this amazing apple cake with cinnamon ice cream for dessert. It reminded me a lot of our family meals in Nottingham, where 11 of us would gather around a table to eat and share stories with each other. In fact, I daresay it reminded me how much I missed those times. Food has to be one of the most powerful tools of unification in the whole of human existence. That's for another blog post though.

Anyways, his wife spent a lot of time explaining the customs to us, attempting to parse out the various blessings that she and my professor laid upon the food for those of us who don't understand Hebrew. Needless to say, I was incredibly moved, in an odd way. Here were two extremely intelligent individuals, people who have devoted their lives to teaching others. Prof. C was a teaching fellow at Harvard. His wife was a Jewish school principal for her whole life. They lived in the sort of house you expect intellectual people to live in: hardwood floors, art on the walls, a sort of soft dim light pervading, books strewn everywhere. Their front yard was festooned with Obama and Al Franken yard signs (much like the one that was heinously stolen from me), and Mrs. C. proudly displayed an Obama-Biden button on her coat as she talked about canvassing for votes in Mendota Heights. She talked about local food and environmental sustainability in a most thoughtful way that would probably make my friend Benjamin's eyes well up with pride. Proudly she remarked about the completely local aspect of our meal, she having purchased nearly all the ingredients either at farmer's markets or her local co-op. Prof. C. drives an electric car to school everyday that doesn't travel over 30 MPH.

In short, they were the epitome of the cosmopolitan liberal intelligentsia that is so often ridiculed in mainstream society. The kind of people that I can only assume, do not live in Gov. Palin's "pro-America" parts of the country.

But yet, they exhibited a faith and sense of their own place in creation that astounded me. One of the first things Mrs. C. did was let us know that the Jewish people have been performing these rituals for thousands upon thousands of years, and it comforted her to have that sort of historical precedent. She said that it was a connective trail to generations of people seeking to touch the transcendent. I mean, here are these sorts of people that we are usually trained to think of as godless, and they exhibited the sort of faith that is so real you don't even think it could exist.

It's a sad critique on society, I think, when we are trained to compartmentalize people into these small boxes. You're the liberal one. You're the godly one. You're the environmentalist. You're the soldier. And this sort of ideological block is only furthered by a power establishment that has sought to the best of its ability to expose and exploit for 8 years. It's as if people who are both simultaneously progressive and religious are an anomaly. Like you can't be an outdoorsman and still care about climate change. Life cannot be so black and white.

Anyways, I had a good time eating in the sukkah. I don't anticipate a pending conversion to Judaism, but I really appreciated the opportunity to participate in some Jewish customs and gain such a stunning peek into the lives of two folks who really seem to get what it means to be Jewish. I remember back in Nottingham, I knew a guy in my American History seminar who was a Belgian-Spanish-American Jew. One day, he invited me to come up to the Jewish Fair that the Jewish student group was holding in the union. So I went, and Daniel was manning a booth promoting travel to Israel. Bemused, I asked him what Israel was like, since he traveled there at least once a year. I distinctly remember him saying, as I ate a piece of baklava, that he didn't get what the big deal was, because you walk down the street in Jerusalem and you think, "Hey, everyone's cool." Or something to that extent. If that happy Jerusalem street in my mind is populated with folks like Daniel and Prof. and Mrs. C., I have to go take a trip.

This was a scattershot post, but I'm tired. I must alert my loyal readership though to the fact that I finally possess new glasses. The photo below doesn't quite distinguish them too clearly, but they're quite nice.

Frightening.

2008-10-18T09:42:00.000-07:00

I don't know what else you can say about this. I realize not all Republicans are racists who take pride in their ignorance, but man, this is scary.

BTW, some asshole stole my Obama/Biden sign out of my front yard the other night. What sort of person does something like that? Some dude down the street had a McCain/Palin sign up, but you didn't see me go and steal it in the middle of the night like some sort of juvenile. Grow up people.

Album of the Week: The Red Door (... Remember Zoot Sims)

2008-10-13T19:50:00.000-07:00

Alright world, you win. I've been oppressed by hate mail, desperate pleadings, and mental screams, all yearning for the same exact thing. Put your angst to rest. This week's album is "The Red Door (... Remembering Zoot Sims) as performed by Scott Hamilton on tenor and Bucky Pizzarelli on guitar.

As an exciting aside, I should let you folks know that I've actually had the privilege of hearing Scott Hamilton live. I caught him at London's prestigious Pizza Express Jazz Club in January of 2007. So I know what I'm talking about.

What's really interesting about Scott Hamilton is that, unlike nearly every other sax player post WWII, he has largely rejected the styles promulgated by greats such as Charlie Parker and John Coltrane. Meaning, Hamilton does not play bebop. For those of you who didn't take History of Jazz with Juan Tony Gúzman, let me quickly explain.

When you think of swing music, you think of Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey, Glenn Miller, etc. From a musical standpoint, swing is pretty straightforward. It doesn't place great focus on virtuosity. It's dance music, and the purpose of the music was to entertain. After WWII, people like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie started playing extraordinarily fast solos over a complicated framework of chords. This style came to be known as bebop, and it basically signaled in the "modern" era of jazz music. Instead of music to entertain, bebop was "art music" which was made primarily for listening rather than dancing.

So it's quite odd that Scott Hamilton eschews the mainstream of jazz and basically plays a style that many people feel is outdated. I mean, swing is probably the most "accessible" of jazz styles, but it has not been at the mainstream of jazz since the Great Depression. In fact, this album is dedicated to the memory of Zoot Sims, a prominent swing era tenor player. And Bucky Pizzarelli is actually an old timer contemporary of Zoot Sims. So basically, this album is kind of like those retro-ish t-shirts that sell for $40 at Urban Outfitters. It's old, but it's new.

This album consists solely of tenor sax, guitar, and the occasional burst of vocal encouragement. That's one of the reasons I'm a big fan. It's so simple. There isn't anything to clutter up the melodies. And damn, Scott Hamilton really does weave some pretty incredible melodic solos here. That's one of the great beauties of swing soloing, they tend to focus on creating a beautiful melody instead of blowing your mind with waves of sixteenth notes. The word that comes to mind from this album is "loom." Partially because "loom" is a funny word, but mostly because Pizzarelli cranks out some really interesting chordal changes (a loom, if you will) upon which Scott Hamilton "weaves" some incredibly interesting solos.

And you know, these two guys are not chumps. They might not be playing as fast as Charlie Parker, or doing crazy stuff like John Coltrane, but this is music making at its finest. I think my favorite track is "Jitterbug Waltz," which I've been a big fan of for a long time. I think it should be a constitutional requirement that everyone listens to a jazz waltz every morning. They're just good ideas. And this version of "Jitterbug Waltz" might just take the cake. I love how Pizzarelli does this sort of stride pattern with his guitar strumming. I mean, it happens throughout the disc, but it stands out here with the 3/4 waltz especially.

Another good track is "It Had To Be You." Makes Harry Connick, Jr. look like a hack. Meg Ryan, eat your heart out. (Who can guess that movie reference?)

Hamilton plays with this fantastic breathy style throughout, quite reminiscent of Lester Young. Some of his swirling little bits also remind me a lot of Coleman Hawkins. And of course, Pizzarelli chomps away like Freddie Green would want him too. But it's not quite so simple. You usually associate interaction in jazz with a trio, or quartet. Bill Evans comes to mind for me, with his Village Vanguard sessions. But there is a very real and tangible interaction here between the two performers, and there's something about that nakedness of sound that makes it incredibly poignant. Two performers, and nothing to hide behind.

See folks, this is the beauty of jazz. There's no limitations. You can do anything.

"Hey Bucky, you're real old, and I play music that no one else takes seriously. How about we get together and play some of this old music that everyone thinks is a big laugh and not worthy of title of "art," and try to make it cool?"

"Well, gee, alrighty there Scotty, but goll darn it, you've got to be off your rocker if you think some poor sap is going to buy this fossil of an album. I mean, damn, what sort of poor graduate student is going to drop money on this?"

I picked up this album at Half Price Books (brand new, I'll add) for something like $7. A very productive day at HPB, I must say, look for another album review from this haul after Thanksgiving. But anyways, it's definitely worth the regular price. Highly recommended.

And I saw him play, so I know what I'm talking about.

Grocery Stores

2008-10-08T18:52:00.001-07:00

I was at a Caribou Coffee tonight, doing some homework. Then I was at a liquor store, purchasing a bottle of imported English ale. London Pride, if you must know. After that, I decided to come home. But I was suddenly stricken by the sight of a great spotlight in the sky...

Drawn like a moth, I drove over to the light and saw that it was promoting the GRAND OPENING of a brand new Rainbow grocery store. Seeing that I was done with homework (I don't have Civil Procedure tomorrow because it's Yom Kippur), I figured, what the hell, I'll go check out the new Rainbow. I couldn't help but think a bit about my grandpa, whose favourite thing to do in his last few years was to go to the "new" Rainbow in Bloomington. He could barely walk anywhere else (he weighed near 400 pounds), but you gave him a cart and a deli section and the dude just flew.

Just to clarify, the new Rainbow I went to looked nothing like the Rainbow in the photo above. Instead, it looked like a giant Northwoods hunting lodge, resplendent with pumpkins, Indian corn, and other autumnal decor. That sort of Minnesota-y looking building that all of us like to think we live in, or at least want to.

Now, you have to understand, I have a strange fascination with grocery stores. I don't know what it is, human frailty or a personal foible or whatever, but I could spend hours wandering around in grocery stores. There's something so bombastic about the sheer quantity of food available when you think about how some kid in Africa lives on a bowl of rice a week or something.

When you think about it, your typical American supermarket is probably the preeminent shrine to capitalistic excess. The coffee and tea aisle was ridiculous. And I mean, I love coffee as much as any self respecting organic Ecuadorian grower, but it seemed a bit out of control. Especially since half of the coffee was sludge like Sanka or industrial fire cans of Maxwell House. But seriously, I walked down a frozen foods aisle that consisted almost entirely of various forms of potatoes. Steak fries, shoestring fries, french fries, hash browns, little smiley face fries, waffle fries, home fries, mashed potatoes, crinkle fries, shredded hash browns, double baked potatoes, etc, etc, etc. I felt like I was walking through that scene in Forrest Gump where Bubba talks for days about the different ways to make shrimp. Compare that mile long frozen potato aisle with the actual potatoes being sold in the produce section. Amazing, simply amazing.

So anyways, I wandered around Rainbow for probably about 25 minutes or so in a daze, stupefied at the sheer quantity and variety that surrounded me. And a grocery store is basically a gigantic sensory overload. You have these relatively narrow aisles, crammed with shelf after shelf of different products, each screaming for your attention. People rushing everywhere like maniacs with large carts. Consistently faced with decisions of infinite possibility, like what sort of fried frozen potato to purchase. There are so many options that it's almost impossible to make a rational decision. Eventually, you get to the brink, where it's a choice between having a freakout and knocking everything over whilst screaming or just grabbing something and running like hell. Going to a grocery store has to be the suburban equivalent of smoking crack.

The other interesting part of a grocery store is the fact that it is a social melting pot. I mean, everyone needs to buy groceries, be they black, white, big, tall, whatever. It's too bad they don't have benches just to sit around and people watch, preferably with bench-side coffee service. Maybe some of those two-way mirrors or something. I was quite confused by the woman shopping who was decked out in St. Paul Co-op gear. Seemed like sort of a conflict of interest to me. There was this one dude who looked like the only reason he was there was to enter to win the camoflauged ATV. Without going into extensive detail, it's sufficient to say that a lot of people there confused me.

I thought my trip would have been simple enough, I just wanted to check out the place and maybe grab some salsa. But like I said, it ended up an ordeal. Everything about it was so insane. I suppose, all grocery stores are the same way, but still. When you think about what a grocery store is actually like, it's absolutely insane. Why the hell would you ever need a sub sandwich the size of a small nuclear weapon? It was unbelievable, simply unbelievable. Seriously, if you dropped this thing off a building, it probably would have cratered the sidewalk.

Anyways, in a flash of panic, I grabbed some queso dip, waited impatiently for the ignoramus ahead of me to operate the self check out with her 50 children in tow, paid with my Discover card (cashback bonus for groceries), and got the hell out of there.

Food

2008-10-06T19:52:00.000-07:00

I usually think I'm a fairly competent person. Fairly competent at the act of living life. Which is why cooking for me is an incredibly humbling experience.

My cooking skills are bad at best, horrible from an objective standard. I was always quite fearful, cooking in Nottingham, as my group tended to select elaborate and complicated dishes to make. My inherent inefficiency meant that practically anything I was assigned took about 4 hours, wiping out my afternoon with nerve-wracking culinary toil. Who can forget the episode where we attempted to grill chicken for an hour on a grill that wasn't actually lit? Brilliant.

My dad is in the Cayman Islands this week, leaving me to fend for myself in regards to food. I decided the lack of preprepared food for a week was a perfect opportunity for me to rise to the challenge and fend for myself. See also, I decided to cook.

So I biked over to Cub the other day and bought some groceries. And yes, I did feel superior for biking.

Last night I attempted to make chicken curry. I figured it was going to be interesting when I realized I made enough rice to feed a small Asian nation for a week. It only got better when it became apparent the rice was woefully undercooked. I splattered hot cooking oil all over myself and the rest of the kitchen attempting to stir fry the chicken. And of course, I ended up with a plethora of cooking implements coated with an impenetrable sealant of burnt rice and curry paste.

Needless to say, it didn't quite taste like the chicken curry that my mind's eye had envisioned when I decided to make it. But all in all, I suppose it could have been worse.

Remembering the wisdom of Mrs. Roorda in my 8th grade F.A.C.S. class, the best thing to do with old rice is to make fried rice. So, that was my burden today. And I must say, it was marginally more successful. I don't have second degree burns all over my forearms, nor did I spend 5 hours scrubbing pans. It did suffer from a lack of fresh vegetables though, and it seemed a titch bland. But life is full of small challenges.

I don't know what I'm going to attempt tomorrow, but I bought some pasta and some Cuban beans and rice. I don't quite think the two go together, so it's looking like pasta. As you can tell, with the pasta and the rice, it's been a carb-tastic week. I'm getting ready for a double century ride this weekend, so you know, it's all good.

That's a lie.

Book Review: The Lost Continent

2008-10-01T20:24:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, everyone wants to know where the Album of the Week is. You have no idea how much hate mail I've received in the last week. But truth be told, I've been listening to quite a bit of music, but no one album has quite stuck out to me lately. I must be in some sort of slump.

So instead, I thought I'd review a book I just recently finished: "The Lost Continent" by Bill Bryson.

I'm quite fond of Bill, as is evident by at least one other review on this site and frequent references. He has what is best described as a unique flair for observation, and in this book, he turns it on small town America. He decides to take a few months away from England for an old fashioned cross country road trip. About two thirds of the book is devoted to the East, while the last third is to the West. That doesn't make as much sense to me, because the West is huge, certainly it warrants more than a third of the book.

One thing Bill is really fond of is bitching, which he does to great extent. Bitches about rude waitresses, bitches about ugly developments, bitches about "losing" some intangible element of "Americana." He spends most of his trip in the East searching for that mythical small town America you always see in old movies. Where everyone is well dressed and happy, where there's a cheery little town square with a clapboard church, a brightly painted post office, and some classic Cadillacs. As you might assume, he never actually finds such a place. Which is fairly understandable, being that no such place exists, except in the movies.

That's part of what is so fascinating to me about Bill's thought process. The man grew up in Iowa, the most Midwest of the Midwest, then goes off to live in England. His brain is literally trapped in some sort of freeze frame. And he seems loathe to admit that. So while he has one of the most astounding talents for people watching, he filters it through this bizarre I'm-American-but-wait-I'm-not-but-everything-should-be-as-American-as-I-remember-it lens. That Hollywood small town doesn't exist, there isn't some sort of remaining objective standard to judge how "American" a small town is. The beauty of small towns is in individual reactions, to people living there. It's entirely subjective, I think. So I sometimes think Bill is a bit harsh.

It is funny as he travels about, encountering different geographic regions and such. We forget just how big this country is. It is big, real big. And there's a lot of diversity. I enjoyed the part where he tries to communicate with people in Mississippi and can't understand a damn thing.

One other interesting thing, going along with the paragraph before, is how he travels with a certain degree of unconfronted melancholy. As stupid as he thinks small town people are, in a sense, Bill wants to be one. As arrogant and fat as he claims Americans are, deep down, he knows he's one of us. And whenever people pick up on his English accent and note how he must not from around there, he gets a little sad. The part at the very end when he returns home to Iowa is pretty indicative.

All in all, I'd recommend this book. I mean, it's good for a laugh, but it's also a pretty interesting survey of the country from a pretty interesting viewpoint. People watching is a lost art. Good thing Bill is here to help if we need it.

I promise, my next book review will be from another author. I do need to branch out a bit.

You win, you lose...

2008-09-30T19:31:00.000-07:00

Well, the Twins lost tonight. Their season is over.

And I don't know, I'm not quite as crushed as I had thought I might be. You had to have some sort of ominous feeling when the Twins dropped 2 of 3 to Kansas City. You had to have an ominous feeling when Chicago dismantled Detroit last night. And although the Twins gave a valiant effort tonight to defeat the Sox, in all honesty, this pennant should have been theirs a week ago. I am a little disappointed in my friends Mauer and Morneau though. No hits, no hits at all.

The cruel fact is, sometimes in life, you win, and sometimes you lose. Sometimes you want something so badly it hurts, you want it so much you don't even know what to do. Sometimes everything is great and you get what you want. And well, sometimes you lose that thing. You make a mistake, or you freak out, or you don't score any runs in 9 innings. And it's kinda inevitable, you're going to feel like crap for a while. There's always next season though. I mean, it's out of your control now, you just need to keep on going.

I'm no fairweather fan. I'm proud of our team, even if they lost. No one expected them to compete for the division title. They didn't sell their soul to the undead like the White Sox. And the Rays will most likely destroy them in two days anyways. Righteous vengeance, you know?

We'll get em' next year.

163

2008-09-30T07:22:00.000-07:00

It will take a herculean effort to defeat the Sox in Chicago tonight, but I have a goat at the ready and am confident that the baseball gods will cause us to prevail. The White Sox are a team full of terrible human beings who probably rape and pillage on their off days. Whereas the Twins spend every waking moment visiting terminally ill children in hospitals and rescuing little old ladies from oncoming traffic. So, on a moral sense, it's only just that the Twins crash the party tonight.

But in any case, this would be one of the greatest victories in franchise history. How does this team want to be remembered? It's all in their hands now.

So anyways, I'm hoping for a dramatic night of baseball, and hoping especially that we come out on top. In the past 7 one game playoffs, the road team has a 4-3 advantage, so here's hoping we add to that. This Twins team has the heart and the skill to go in and win. Whatever our woes in the past, nothing matters except this one game. So, here goes nothing.

Win Twins!

Open Letter

2008-09-28T18:45:00.000-07:00

Dear Minnesota Twins player,

I have hotly followed your 2008 campaign with bated breath. It's been a journey fraught with both joy and peril. With the loss of Torii Hunter and Johan Santana, no one thought you could compete. You proved them wrong, I'll admit, but it hasn't been easy. Numerous times I had an incredible urge to throw a brick through my TV during your telecasts.

Now here it is, you're either in the playoffs, or you're playing a single game to get into the playoffs. Let's focus on the latter scenario. I am fully prepared to do whatever is necessary to will you to victory. I mean hell, if I need to go out and find a goat to sacrifice on an alter sheathed in homer hankies, that's fine. Just let me know so I can get one in time. If I have to wear the exact same set of clothes for two weeks, I'm game. If it comes down to me chanting some sort of voodoo hex on the Chicago bats around a bonfire naked, no problem.

I beseech thee though, just go out and win. God knows you should have won on Saturday, then you wouldn't have this conundrum in the first place. And listen Mr. Morneau, now is not the time to slump. I had kind of a brain slump last week, but I busted out of it in time to write a fantastic office memo, even with a cat-voiced lady screeching in my ear. So get your shit together.

I mean, it's a simple game, right? Catch the ball, throw the ball, hit the ball. Hell, if I could do it in the British University Baseball League (minus the hitting part), you can surely do it in the major leagues.

Sincerely,

Myself

Sunday Morning Thoughts

2008-09-28T08:05:00.001-07:00

I'm at a Caribou Coffee right now, attempting to finish revising my office memo due tomorrow. I know, I know, it's a Caribou, but the Starbucks around here is worthless. This place isn't much better, they ran out of scones. They must have taken their business model from AIG or something.

I would probably be a lot more productive if there wasn't a woman with a voice like a cat screeching to the left of me. I'm really quite amazed, I have never heard someone sound so much like a cat. I mean, yeah, it's probably some sort of skill. But damn is it offensive.

Thank you sweet Jesus for headphones and John Coltrane.

Concert Review: Sigur Rós

2008-09-25T22:37:00.001-07:00

Few people in the world would choose to spend their evenings listen to a man warble falsetto gibberish in a made up language while playing a guitar with a violin bow. Lucky for me, I'm one of those few. So I put on my plaid, did my best indie nonchalant stride, grabbed a sweater, and headed downtown to catch Sigur Rós in concert at the Orpheum.

Sigur Rós, as some of you may know, is one of my most favourite bands. They hail from Iceland and almost exclusively sing in Icelandic or a made up gibberish dubbed "Hopelandic." They have a sound unlike any other, mixing distortion, keyboard, drums, and bowed guitar into a blend that is honestly otherworldy. And in general, they're just kinda out there. Watching the concert, I sort of felt like I took some sort of side trip to Saturn.

Then again, if you ever see what Iceland actually looks like, you'd be playing some pretty messed up stuff too.

One fantastic point about the show was the audience. For pure people watching, it was absolutely priceless, a veritable cavalcade of white hipster/indie culture. Plenty of facial hair, plenty of thrift shop sweaters, a whole lot of Sketchers, Pumas, and retro Adidas. The same pair after pair of skinny bearded man in a t-shirt with (what I would consider) an entirely too hot girlfriend wearing knitwear. I don't think I saw a single black or non-caucasian person there. The funny thing is, everyone is at such pains to look "indie," that when they all get together, they all look exactly the same.

I thought Sigur Rós played fantastic. It was moreso for me about the imagery, because their music sounded exactly as I had expected it to be. And it didn't help that I was a little distracted. But there's something about a man furiously bowing an electric guitar silhouetted by smoke and lights that creates a pretty striking scene. Like I said earlier, the whole thing was very otherworldly. Unlike anything I've ever seen or heard. Couple that with a video show in the background that was by any explanation, just plain weird, and you get something pretty memorable I feel.

Some of the tunes sounded a bit slow to me, and "Gobbledigook" from their new album almost got overwhelmed by the drums. But overall, fantastic. Going back to that same "Gobledigook" song, it was genuinely bizarre to see them playing acoustic guitars, especially when you are expecting this wash of distortion. I mean, I have the album, I knew it was coming, but it was still odd.

I'm just glad they played extensively from their album "Takk." I really got into Sigur Rós when I was in England, so I have this very intense emotional connection with their music to aspects of my life in Nottingham, especially the Takk album. I actually bought some of their music at a record shop in downtown Notts that I frequented. So as they played, I just got flashes of random scenes, stuff not spectacular in any way. The church hall in the basement, walking to the university, etc, etc, etc.

So yes, though there were considerably less riot police than at the Rage concert three weeks ago, I would say Sigur Rós lived up to the standard set by Zach, Tom, and co. in the world of live music witnessed by myself. I was happy to have gone and heard them play. I wish it would have been under slightly different circumstances, but sometimes I suppose you just have to deal with what is thrown at you. And if none of you have ever heard their music, I'd suggest checking it out.

I think this quote from a friend sums up the concert quite nicely.

"Even if you were high, and you came down, you'd probably think you were still high"
- A Friend

. . .

2008-09-25T10:35:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it's good, I feel, to just chill out a bit.

Half Price Books

2008-09-21T10:38:00.000-07:00

I am the scourge of Half Price Books. Literally, if we lived in a pirate society, I'd be the Jolly Roger or whatever to Half Price Books' peaceful British colonial town. Except for the fact that I actually have to pay for all the plunder I take from them. Hate how that works.

I'm really a fan of the one in my native Apple Valley. I've been to the one in Roseville and have concluded that it is worthless. Firstly, it's because they have some sort of pricing curve for music. A Beatles CD that would cost $6.98 in AV costs $9.98 in Roseville. There are all sorts of little discrepancies like that. And secondly, they usually don't have anything good. Which I suppose probably means that people in Roseville respect good music more than they do in AV.

That's the disadvantage to shopping at HPB, when you see something that just does not belong in a second hand store. For instance, today I saw a copy of Bill Evans' "Sunday at the Village Vanguard," one of the most legendary jazz recordings ever. A milestone in the development of modern jazz. And someone, somewhere, decided that the infinite glory of the music was worth little more than the $3 they got paid for it. Shameless, absolutely shameless. A part of me dies when I see that. I literally stood there and thought about purchasing the Bill Evans album and gifting it to someone, just to save it from the indignity of being peddled next to a copy of Burt Bacharach's greatest hits. But like I said before, I spend entirely too much money at this store in the first place. So I dried a tear and turned away. Once I saw a copy of "Kind of Blue" in the racks and had to go throw up.

I suppose other people's loss is my gain though.

I think one of the reasons I like the HPB in AV so much is that it is staffed by blissfully awkward people. I had a book recommended to me a little bit ago (which I bought at HPB) about snap judgments, and how people can seemingly instantly know stuff about things in a matter of seconds. I've only read about a chapter or two in it, but basically the gist is that you can know something fundamental about a person in the first few seconds you meet them. Needless to say, I applied this technique when I was milling about the store this afternoon. And with nearly ever person, I instantly knew they were socially awkward. Which means I would probably get along great with them.

There's the dowdy girl who you know spends every waking moment reading Jane Austen. She strangely reminds me of my 12th grade English teacher. Like, a clone from the past or something. There's also the nerdy looking dude with glasses who probably has to structure his work schedule around his World of Warcraft raids. The slovenly guy with the beard who looks really bored, he's always the guy buying your books. But two employees in particular stick out to me, they must be my favourites. One is this very pregnant girl who undoubtedly drives a car that runs on vegetable oil and only wears hemp clothing naturally grown by a small cooperative in the Ecuadorian countryside. She hasn't been around lately, so maybe she's not quite so pregnant anymore. The other guy has to go through life stoned out of his mind and he rocks the 1970's pornstar look to go with it. Kind of looks like he crawled out of a couch in his mom's basement. He also really likes Nirvana, because he talks to me about them nearly every time I stop in. Absolutely hilarious, I think.

Being that the majority of people who go into HPB are relatively normal, it's always funny to see the normal people try to interact with the employees. It's kind of like if I were to start talking to you in Yiddish about my thoughts on trombone mouthpieces. Complete lack of information transmission. Lucky for those of us who have deciphered the code though, we can communicate freely in front of the "normal" people without anyone knowing what's going on.

The scary thing is, I've had people ask me on at least two occasions if I work there.

Seriously though, cannot go wrong at this store. If any of you haven't gone, I'll gladly take you on a guided tour. I mean, where else can you pick up an LP of Don Ho's greatest Hawaiian hits?

Exactly, nowhere. Why the hell do you need that? I have no idea, but I own it. A friend of mine once went and got an LP of German Oktoberfest songs for 50¢. I thought it was stupid too, until we listened to it after a couple beers. Then it sounded like a brilliant purchase. Based on that, I'm sure Don Ho will prove his worth eventually.

Next time you need a book on self help, science fiction, or 19th century Russian history, check out HPB. Or if you need a Burt Bacharach album. Give me a ring, I'll probably want to come along.

Album of the Week: Loveless

2008-09-18T13:42:00.000-07:00

I know the internet has been waiting with collective bated breath, anticipating my next album review. Well world, here you are. This week's album is Loveless by My Bloody Valentine.

This album is a trip.

Seriously, unless you're a fan of post-rock or noise-rock or something similar, I can almost guarantee you've never heard anything like this before. It's a sound pretty much unlike any other, really more of a sonic dreamscape than anything else. I think I would characterize it as art music, rather than any sort of popular genre. Definitely part of its appeal is listening from an intellectual standpoint, figuring out what the hell the group is trying to do.

So what makes this so crazy, you may ask? Unlike most rock, My Bloody Valentine employs a constant sonic assault. There really is no discernible dynamic range, nor is there much diversity within the songs of different instrumentals. Add in the fact that their song formats just sort of go until they're done, they don't seem to have any sort of formal structure. Instead there's this cacophony of electric guitar, distortion, synthesizer, obscured vocals, and strangely rhythmic drumming. I mean, in reality, it is just bizarre. The music sounds so otherworldly, you can't even really believe that actual humans can wrest these sorts of sounds out of instruments.

Conversely though, it is absolutely brilliant.

I don't have any individual songs to really recommend, because everything blends together so perfectly. Well, I suppose I am partial to "Loomer" and "Sometimes." Those may be my two favourites. But this is a capital "A" Album in every sense of the word, and we all know how much I love Albums as opposed to albums. Meaning, this is a cohesive statement, and as such, it really is best to listen to it through, rather than nitpick it apart into 11 songs. That would just not do.

One intense part of their sound is how they have this sort of acoustic guitar thing going against what sounds like a wall of electric distortion. It's a really effective tactic, I think, keeping that ethereal distortion in the back with some rhythmic device that keeps it from sounding stagnant. Like I said before, it's probably unlike anything you've heard.

Many must know my fancy for the Icelandic post-rock band Sigur Rós. Who incidentally, I'm going to see in a week, but that's neither here nor there. They must have gotten some influence from My Bloody Valentine for sure, as they employ a lot of their tricks in terms of electric distortion. But it's a lot different. Where Sigur Rós employs almost a classical approach to the use of electric instruments, bowing guitars and other crazy stuff like that, My Bloody Valentine has a bit of a harder edged approach. In any case, I like it. A lot.

So there you go. Check out "Loveless," let me know what you think. Give it a bit of a chance though, it's kinda messed up. Like I said earlier, it's a trip.

Target Field

2008-09-15T19:14:00.000-07:00

So, the Twins, aside from making me throw my TV through the window, today unveiled the name for their new ballpark: Target Field.

Now, it's obviously not perfect. I would have preferred some non-corporate name like Puckett Park or Killebrew Field or something like that. But it's the 21st century, so I'll be realistic. In light of these circumstances, I actually think Target Field is a pretty good name. I mean, Target is a Minnesota company and seems to do a lot of good work in terms of philanthropy and all that jazz. Additionally, it doesn't have the seedy/creepy/weird vibe of Wal-Mart, K-Mart, or other comparable retailers. I mean, Target, in comparison with other department stores, is kind of like a bottle of fine French wine standing in a field of Franzia. Plus their grocery wing sells delicious salsa.

Some other names I heard bandied about were Best Buy Ballpark and Land O' Lakes Field. I'll go on the record and say that dual name parks in MLB are not a good idea. The former Pac Bell Park in San Francisco? Forgettable. The former Minute Maid Park in Houston or wherever? Not a good idea. Seriously, we should maybe thank Target. Best Buy Ballpark sounds like some sort of juvenile tongue twister while Land O' Lakes Field had revenge of the technologically savvy and idiotic written all over it. LOL Field? No thanks. Target Field is concise, somewhat corporately ambiguous, and I'm sure there are many promotional opportunities. I will almost bet money there will be a giant Target target hanging in right field with the words "JUSTIN MORNEAU HIT IT HERE!"

If you're ever downtown, go check out Target Field under construction. I had the good fortune to catch a nice glimpse of it beyond a line of riot police at the Rage concert a few weeks ago. And I must say, it looks fantastic. If I have to sell an organ to go to the first game, so be it.

I need answers

2008-09-14T13:12:00.000-07:00

I really need some answers.

Here are some facts.

1. The economy, according to Alan Greenspan, is in a "once in a century" crisis.
2. Over 4,000 Americans have died in Iraq, along with countless Iraqi civilians
3. We still have not found Osama Bin Laden
4. The US produces approximately 1/4 of the world's carbon dioxide emissions and we consume the most oil
5. Some 45 million people cannot afford health care
6. Our international standing in the world has plummeted

One would think that in light of such pressing facts, we need to find solutions. One would think that with a fairly important presidential election coming up, people would want to hear about how the two candidates are going to solve these issues. One would think people want answers.

Instead, we got John McCain talking about how Barack Obama insulted Sarah Palin when he, in the midst of criticizing McCain's economic policies, said that "if you put lipstick on a pig, it's still a pig." Don't mind the fact that Senator McCain made the exact same statement about Hillary Clinton's health care plan last winter.

Instead we get a barrage of flat out lying from the McCain campaign. I'm not joking, there are literally lies flying about the airwaves. I really like the one where McCain accuses Obama of sponsoring a bill in the Illinois Legislature that promoted "comprehensive sex education for kindergartners." In reality, he signed a bill which promoted age appropriate awareness of good touch and bad touch. Or there's that Spanish language one which accuses Obama of killing immigration reform last year. Don't mind the fact that McCain and Obama voted exactly the same. What's even more galling is that Mrs. McCain had the audacity to criticize the media for exposing such lies.

Gov. Palin has no excuse either. She claims to have "killed" the Bridge to Nowhere earmark that would have used federal tax dollars to construct a $400 million bridge to an island with 50 residents. Not so. She was for it before she was against it. And frankly, I feel it's pretty reasonable to say she's a pretty freaky person in general. For some reason, she is qualified to be a heartbeat away from the most powerful position in the world because she is a "hockey mom." Well, my mom was a "band mom," and she shops at department stores too. She might not be quite so adept as killing moose, which is apparently another key qualification. Love her as I do, I don't think my mom should lead the free world.

I forgot, she has foreign policy experience of her proximity to Russia. "They're our next-door neighbors," she said in a recent ABC interview, "and you can actually see Russia from land here in Alaska -- from an island in Alaska." That's fantastic. Alaska is also the closest point in the US to space (Mt. McKinley). She must also have space experience. It's also the closest US point to the North Pole, so she must also have experience dealing with Santa. This is the most pathetic form of reasoning I've never heard. If we talked about this in law school, we could probably spend months discussing how inane it is. I mean, I can see Lakeville if I stand on the road outside my house. I'm obviously in a position to officially negotiate with the Lakeville City Council on behalf of the City of Apple Valley.

I suppose this is to be expected. It's the same culture wars bullshit that has been used as a political tactic since Nixon. The same sort of thing perfected by George W. Bush and Karl Rove. I mean, it sort of makes sense. If you don't have any fresh ideas for yourself, why not just tear apart the other person?

Except the fact that this is coming from the founder of the "Straight Talk Express." This is coming from a man who I'm supposed to think is "honorable." There's nothing honorable about fear mongering. There is nothing honorable about sacrificing your integrity to get ahead. And McCain had integrity, he really did. But obviously not anymore. Doesn't the Republican Party praise our Christian origins? What sort of Christianity promotes this sort of sleaze? This is something our society should condemn, not lift up.

The fact that people want to turn this election into some sort of referendum on personalities is an embarrassment to a civilized country, I feel. Obviously, we want to elect someone who people can trust. But it cannot be that we elect people based not on their ideas, but on some sort of "image" they've crafted. Sure, Obama might sound like that kook professor you had in sociology or whatever. He might seem like a giant egghead. He's "educated." Wait a second though, wouldn't it be a positive to have an intelligent, thoughtful person in the White House. No, no, what was I thinking? That would be awful.

Seriously, I want some answers. I know I have some conservative friends out there. How is John McCain going to make this country better? How is he going to "reform" Washington when he essentially brings to the table the same policies of the last 8 years? How is he going to fix the economy by continuing the Bush tax cuts? Senator McCain is not going to lower your taxes. Literally, he's not. Check his website. Senator Obama will cut taxes to the middle class. If you're a senior making less than $50,000 a year, he's going to eliminate their income taxes. How is this a bad idea? How is it a bad idea to want to talk to countries that we don't currently talk to? Why is it that we think we're punishing people by not talking to them. It's not helping us deal with Iran. In fact, I would say its downright arrogant.

Honest to God, I want some real answers. Why should I desire to supplant eight years of near total failure with four more years of pretty much the exact same? How is that going to make things better? Seriously, someone tell me why.

The idea that we should be a nation of cowboys is a terrible idea. That's what got us into the shitstorm in Iraq. Non cooperation, arrogance, ideology driven policy. I'm not saying Obama is God's Chosen One to restore America to its former greatness or anything. He most likely will fail in some of his grand schemes. But the fact remains, Senator Obama has ideas that are different from the failed ideas of the Bush Administration. They are not the same, they set forth a different direction. For better or for worse, they are a change, a willingness to try something new. Why should I want four more years of essentially the same policy? It has not worked. Why are people afraid of doing something new? A great mentor of mine at Luther said that the reason he loved the United States is because it was always reinventing itself, it was never stagnant. This is not a time to be stagnant.

I need some answers.

Album of the Week: Jazz After Dark

2008-09-11T15:55:00.000-07:00

Good days deserve good music. Today is a very good day, hence, I will recommend some very good music. This week's album is Playboy Jazz After Dark.

When people think Playboy, jazz does not typically first come to mind. I mean, it doesn't for me either. But if you listen to this album, I think you'll agree that it should. Or at least jazz should accompany the rest of what you think Playboy is about.

Now, normally, I don't advocate compilation albums, especially "best of" discs. I prefer buying music in the format of the original album because then you get a better picture of what overall musical statement the artist was trying to make. However, sometimes compilations are so sublime, they must be noted. Here is such an example. I think part of the reasons for its success is that they compiled everything with a certain aim in mind. Obviously, that aim is music to be played "after dark." Any idiot can see that's not the actual aim though. I'm going to take a stab at Playboy's mindset here, and reason "after dark" really translates to "getting it on with a significant other." But don't get fooled into thinking that you need to be listening to this "after dark" or "getting it on with a significant other" to enjoy this music though.

The lineup of artists here is a proverbial all-star team. Ellington, Evans, Monk, Getz, Bennett. The real nice thing is it isn't other musicians rehashing their work though, it's the actual composers and performers. Thus, when you listen to "Prelude to a Kiss" (which is worth buying the album for on its own), you are actually hearing Duke Ellington and Johnny Hodges. And it is absolutely sublime. Thelonious Monk also rocks it out with an excellent solo rendition of "'Round Midnight." And for those of you in the mood for some Brazilian flair, check out Charlie Byrd doing "Corcovado" (I was there). I mean, this is the cream of the crop of the great romantics of jazz history. You listen to this, you can't help but feel good about love, no matter how bitter or hurt you are. Conversely, I'm sure if you were sitting at home with a bottle of wine watching "Sleepless in Seattle" by yourself, it would probably also make you extremely sad. So, there's a disclaimer.

The fun thing is, out of the two discs, the first is all instrumental whilst the second is vocal. So, there's quite a nice mix of different styles and songs. There's some hauntingly whispery vocal stylings courtesty of Mr. Tony Bennett, a little slow and sweet Basie-esque swing with Patti Austin singing "Our Love is Here To Stay," and some modal fun with Bill Evans doing "Blue In Green." Admittedly, some of the vocal pieces are overly schmaltzy, and pile it on a little thick for me. So it's not as if everything is perfect or anything. But the ones that do work hit it right on the head, more than making up for any deficiencies. I'd say the gold standards on the vocal side are Karrin Allyson doing "How Long Has This Been Going On" and Diana Krall singing "Body and Soul." If you've never heard Diana Krall, go out and buy her stuff right now. And of course, there's "Solitude" by Billie Holiday.

I can't stress enough, this disc is not only for the purposes I discussed above. I listen to this all the time during the day without a significant other, and I don't feel one bit ashamed of saying that. I can only imagine what the intended effect would be, however. Probably a home run.

Time to reconsider Playboy. Good day, good music, go listen to this.

Fantasy Vacation + Hilarious Link

2008-09-07T20:19:00.000-07:00

I want to do this.

For a hilarious link, check out this brilliant website. Stuff White People Like.

Small towns

2008-09-06T19:39:00.000-07:00

I'm quite fond of an American-English writer by the name of Bill Bryson. Hilarious guy, I've read a bunch of his stuff. Anyways, I'm reading another one of his books, this one called "The Lost Continent." Basically, Bill goes on a road trip throughout small town America in his mom's old Chevelle, and writes about his thoughts and experiences. He's actually at the time of the trip living in England, so he has a unique insider/outsider point of view on everything. I'm liking it thus far, check it if you have the time.

Anyways, Bill likes to get pissed off about things. A few of his favourite topics are ugly architecture, the effects of the global economy on traditional economies, and stupid people. He just goes off (in all his books, mind you) on city planners who allow historic areas to be deadened with ugly buildings, with no regard to the history of the area. He also is a huge critic of how the increasingly global economy manifests itself in ways derogatory toward the "tradition" that he thinks is more important. In some ways, he's a very conservative guy. Change probably is not on his high list, I'm sure he'd much prefer to live in that TV version of 1950's America, or some rural English village untouched by man. Funny enough, he's the President of the Campaign to Protect Rural England. He's a very funny, very perceptive guy though.

Why do I mention this? Well, I decided, against all financial better judgment to drive 4 hours to Independence, IA the other day for a 20 hour reunion with 3 of my best friends from college. We spent the night at my friend's place in Independence (he's student teaching there), doing all the things we used to do. Or as it turns out, what we still do. That being listening to music whilst drinking and talking. And I must say, it was absolutely glorious. I'm all for productive argument and all, but from time to time, it is very nice to get together with three gentlemen whose worldview I generally share, who value many of the things I value, who share my sense of humour, etc. Especially since, in contrast to the last 4 years (save that one in a foreign country, which is a different story), we've basically lived with each other and enjoyed (and occasionally dis-enjoyed) our common company almost everyday. To be able to relax and drink Sierra Nevada while listening to Rage Against the Machine and Duke Ellington, discussing our lives with the very best of friends is surely one of life's greatest pleasures.

Of course, it wasn't all enlightened philophosizing, NPR, and french pressed coffee. We are not so pretentious as to shield ourselves from some of the world's baser entertainments. We had a few slightly awkward encounters with townsfolk in the local bars, and one of us very nearly got attacked by a guy named Luis outside a gas station at 2 in the morning. We were buying burritos on credit.

In a related public service announcement, never try something called Budweiser Clamato, no matter how intrigued you are. You'll thank me for it.

But back to my friend Bill, I couldn't help but note how different Independence was from Decorah. We were lucky, we were insulated at Luther by a small Iowan town which is light years away from the norm. We benefited from a vibrant downtown and a mostly successful effort to keep the downtown area (nearest to campus) locally owned and free of chain merchants. The college town atmosphere made it diverse in thought and opinion, with tons of cultural activities. Mostly I think, a Luther student can't have anything but good experiences in Decorah. It has a variety which is just very unusual in these days.

Independence seemed to me to be the epitome of the lifeless small towns that Bill motored through in his Chevelle. I mean, it's not absolutely desperate. It has an excellent musical heritage, and is obviously quite proud of the high school. But the main street was lifeless, cheerless, and pointedly, people-less. The shops were run down and derelict looking, competition driven out by the Wal-Mart supercenter on the outskirts near the freeway. Instead of pedestrian friendly Decorah, we were given strange looks for walking downtown by truck after car of confused locals. In all honesty, they were probably a bit freaked out by the four young guys in decidedly un-local clothing striding in a line down main street. We definitely did not fit the mold of the bulk of the people we saw.

Anyways, I just couldn't get over juxtaposing Independence with Decorah, seeing exactly what Bill had been describing in his books. There was a window ad in one storefront for some church, that had a crucifix draped in American flags. Apparently Jesus was American, or some such thing. Benjamin talked about the meth problems in the community, problems that seem so far away from a lot of us. It was very interesting.

On a sidenote, coming back through Charles City today, I passed a wind farm in the midst of the fields. Now, I honestly do think Iowa is a quite beautiful state. Assuredly because of college, Iowa is a very homey, very comfortable place for me. And I read this story on CNN by this farmer in Pennsylvania who hates the wind turbines on his land, because he says they destroy the natural beauty. And I must say, I disagree. I think wind turbines have a certain majestic quality to them. They're so large, so silent in their neverending rotations, so stately amongst the corn and soybeans. They represent a brighter future for our country, I think they represent the preservation of the land in which they reside. And especially large groups of them, it's pretty intense.

Hilarious.

2008-09-04T21:21:00.000-07:00

I don't know how you all feel about the Daily Show, but this bit is hilarious. Either Jon Stewart and his cronies have really dumb luck, or they are just scathingly intelligent.

Great satire.

And just to show I can laugh at myself too, check out this additional clip.

Concert Review: Rage Against the Machine (updated with photos)

2008-09-03T21:37:00.000-07:00

Tonight I went and saw Rage Against the Machine play at the Target Center. I really don't feel as if I wore enough facial piercings for the event. Nor did I wear enough black, thought I did try. I could claim facial hair as evidence of my hard-rockedness, though. I exploited that as much as possible, because let's face it, it's all I've got.

One thing I couldn't help but notice as I approached the Target Center was the police. Police in cars. Police on bikes. Police on horses. Police in helicopters. Police in SWAT team vans. Just in general, a whole lot of police. Wielding a variety of fun implements, like clubs, tasers, riot shields, tear gas, zip-tie handcuffs, helmets, etc. Needless to say, it was unlike the security detail when Ben Folds played at the CFL.

A worthless punk band called Anti-Flag opened. They were, as previously stated, worthless. Not worthy to carry Rage's used sweat towels. Maybe it's just me, but punk music seems to have very little value whatsoever. It's fast, loud, generally musically uninteresting. And then someone yells about how pissed they are at everything.

Now, touché you may say, isn't that exactly what Rage Against the Machine does? Well, they do play fairly loud, and they are very pissed off. But the big difference here I think, is that they express themselves not in shitty punk non-music, but in face-melting guitar riffs, funked out bass lines, and actually quite intelligent lyrics. Granted, I could barely hear what Zach De La Rocha was saying, because I had a seat to the side and it was really loud. But I've read the lyrics. I mean, who else sings about Euro-centric textbooks in school?

Rage did not disappoint in the least. They came out on stage dressed as Guantanamo detainees, in orange jumpsuits and black hoods. They then opened with "Bombtrack," complete with the hoods on, before changing into their normal wear. Needless to say, it was quite the entrance. The whole show was just quite electric. A lot of bands have amazing sounding albums, but once you remove them from the safety net of the studio, they sound terrible. Rage however, they sounded incredible live. You could really tell they were passionate about their music and their message. So much energy. They were just, in a word, intense. Tom Morello is a freak on guitar, I really don't know how he coaxes those sounds out of the thing. It's like the equivalent of me making my trombone sound like an oboe or something.

Of course, the band is famously political. They were not fans of the Republican National Convention next door in St. Paul. Nor of the Iraq war. That was explicitly stated numerous times. I mentioned the Guantanamo thing, right? They also subtly flashed "RNC FUCK YOU" in lights above the stage before they went on. Honestly though, I'm sure most of the crowd could have cared less about the political leanings of the band. They just wanted to rock, which they had ample opportunity to do. Still though, it's kind of a shame. The people in this band, they're not stupid. And yes, they may be extremely to the left, but they're obviously passionate about social justice in ways that a good portion of their fans don't quite grasp. Too bad.

I went alone, which was probably good. It meant I could react to the music in ways where I didn't have to think about how stupid I looked. I could spend money lavishly on shirts without anyone bothering my conscience. It allowed me to have beer spilled on me without feeling some societal urge to punch the guy out. So many things. It would have been nice to have a friend, but I can also appreciate that many aren't quite so enamoured. That's fine. It was interesting to see the floor from my throne in row H of section 229, seat 4. An ocean of people, pulsating to the music, a constant stream of body surfers being tossed out. Guys throwing themselves around in mosh pits. How is that fun at all? I suppose I can grasp it, it would probably be fun if you were with your friends, but definitely not if you were claustraphobic.

Anyways, after the show finished with an insane version of "Killing in the Name Of," I exited onto second street. Got a great view of the new Twins ballpark, rising across the freeway. Man is it going to be spectacular. There was literally a phalanx of riot police surrounding the Target Center. I had secretly kind of hoped that I would have accidentally gotten caught up in some sort of ruckus, and gotten hit with a club or tear gassed. Good story to tell at Thanksgiving, you know? But alas, everyone was pretty well behaved. And to be fair, for all their vitriol, after Rage finished their show, they encouraged the crowd to disperse peacefully. I think he said something like, "let's show them (the police) we have more discipline then they do."

In summary, if it's your thing, I'd highly recommend going and seeing Rage play live. Unfortunately, there isn't a whole lot of opportunity for that. Good thing I went last night.

Here are some more professional reviews, should you so desire.

Star Tribune

Rolling Stone

Pioneer Press

Album of the Week: Tribalistas

2008-08-30T21:49:00.000-07:00

This week's album is the Brazilian release "Tribalistas," by Marisa Monte, Arnaldo Antunes, and Carlinhos Brown. For those of you automatically associate Brazilian music with a washed up lounge singer doing a worn out interpretation of "The Girl From Ipanema," it's time to enter a brave new world. This album is a good start. How do I know this? As I stuttered about in a Rio de Janeiro record shop, I made some broken conversation with a helpful employee who understood a little English. I asked him what Brazilian music I should buy. He showed me this album.

This is Brazilian "popular" music. Don't be mistaken that it's like the Top 40 junk here in the States. This is real artistry. Now, Monte is usually a solo artist. That's the fantastic bit about this album, it features three distinctive voices that come together in an unbelievable harmony. Marisa Monte has an earthy sort of robust lower range. One of the men has a fairly standard middle range. And the third guy has one of the most distinctive voices I've ever heard. It's extremely low and gritty, but also stunningly melodic. The combination of the three is quite amazing. It's like, I don't know, sweet and sour chicken. On first glance, you wouldn't think it'd be a good idea. I mean, there's the sweet, there's the sour, and then there's the chicken. Individually, doesn't look like it'd work. But you throw it all together, and it's delicious. (I prefer Fang, in the Lakeville Crossing shopping center) Same thing on this album, the phenomenal vocal blend is worth the price alone.

Don't be fooled into thinking this album is just a novelty of funny voices. Hell no, this has songwriting of the utmost creativity. Obviously, you can tell it's not American music, it features mainly only acoustic guitar, percussion, and voice. Sometimes some electronic elements are tossed in too. Anyways, I especially enjoy the first two tracks of the album, "Carnavália" and "Um a Um." "Carnavália" especially has this sweet declarative feel. But really, everything on here is great. There's also a nice balance between slower songs and more upbeat ones.

I think it's interesting how the focus in this music isn't on all the flashy crap that is thrown into a lot of American pop, but instead is on the individual performers. Personally, I think it's a lot more respectful of the creative point of the music. Brazilian music in general, at least a lot of what I've heard, shares this characteristic. You listen to Jobim, to bossa nova in general, and you hear relatively simple yet spectacularly crafted melodies accompanying a vocalist or instrumentalist. So intimate.

This album has been critically raved about by people in Brazil and Europe, and now myself. Shouldn't that be enough proof? It's cheap on Amazon, check it out. It won't disappoint, and it's a good way to get into some international grooves.

Wow.

2008-08-28T20:25:00.000-07:00

Did anyone else watch Barack Obama's acceptance speech tonight? I must admit, I'm a little in awe. Best speech I've heard him give. I'll actually say it, I teared up just a bit when he alluded to Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" speech. I know we all hear about that in 7th grade history, but if you haven't heard Dr. King give that speech, check it out right here. It's absolutely masterful. Back to Obama. What I really appreciated was its balance. Balance between abstract and concrete, the real issues that we are facing and the potential ahead of us. The sharp distinctions with John McCain and the Republican Party, who want to give us four more years of Bush policy. This cannot stand, Barack made that resoundingly clear tonight to everyone. It's time to be proud of this country again, and not have to feel foolish anymore. It's time to take hold of history and do something that we can look back on and know that we did the right thing. We cannot sit by and let the problems of our age swallow us up: global warming, heath care, education, inequality. All of us need to do our part to help others, be it serving without pay at a shelter for families in need, helping educate our youth, learning to be a doctor. Hell, even learning to be a lawyer. Shared responsibility, I loved that line in the speech. We all have a responsibility to each other. We can't simply turn a blind eye to the social ills of our society, we can't just dismiss people or think someone else will fix it. So let's all work together, elect Obama, and get on with fixing all the shit that's gone wrong.

Anyways, now that I got that out of my system. I'm going to go hear a trombone led, jazz/funk/r&b group at the MN State Fair tomorrow. I'm pumped, it's going to be fun.

And in other music news, I'm going to go shopping for a black t-shirt and some angry pills this weekend. Why, you ask? Because on Wednesday, I (yes I), am going to fight the power at the Rage Against the Machine concert in Minneapolis. I got a ridiculously cheap ticket on eBay and I am ready to rock. I'm going by myself, but that's fine. I don't think many of my friends up here would appreciate their music, and that's perfectly alright. It's not for everyone. I figure, everyone will be so pissed off anyways, all of us strangers will become friends by default. Kind of a shitty seat, but I have a long and storied history of getting the worst seats possible at music events, so it ain't no thing. Needless to say, I'm excited. Rage doesn't play together very often, least of all in Minnesota. Plus, I this will be my first real "rock" concert. Needless to say, with the presence of our Republican friends next door in St. Paul, I'm fully expecting some leftist rants, polemical chants, face melting funk riffs, and hopefully (fingers crossed) some sort of riot.

What do I have to look forward to? Here are some quotes from Rage guitarist Tom Morello from the Star Tribune.

"While there's a lot of clinking of champagne glasses and toasting one another and passing big checks back and forth inside the convention, there's a reality on the streets outside that will be represented by the Nightwatchman and Rage Against the Machine and Anti-Flag and all the other bands playing to protest in Minneapolis-St. Paul," said Rage guitarist Tom Morello. "We'll be outside the barbed-wire fences throwing musical Molotov cocktails toward the fences."

"[T]he Rage show there (in Minneapolis) is part of the umbrella of protest against the past, present and future crimes of Republicans."

Hilarious

2008-08-26T21:50:00.000-07:00

Rule Britannia, Britannia rule the waves...

This is sweet

2008-08-23T20:40:00.000-07:00

I'm not a basketball fan. Back in my youth, that was maybe not quite so accurate. I played two decidedly unsuccessful seasons in Farmington youth basketball in 4th and 5th grade, where I probably scored a total of 4 points. No matter though. I remember I really liked Michael Jordan and Shaquille O'Neal, and I had these two little books about both of them that my parents got me at the school book fair. I read them exhaustively, literally to the point of them falling apart. I also had a strange fixation with the Charlotte Hornets, mainly because I liked their logo with the bug.

I gave my dad a Charlotte Hornets shirt for father's day once. I've kind of reclaimed it from him, so I'm happy to wear it if anyone wants to see me kick it old school. I figure it's a great first date outfit.

Anyways, what the hell does this all mean? Mainly, I've become very intrigued, during my Olympics watching binge, with the US men's basketball team. It's very satisfying to not only see us dominate (everyone should know I like huge margins of victory), but do it with class. Not being a bunch of assholes. It's been really cool to see the men's team at so many different events; cheering on Michael Phelps, watching the women's basketball team, spending time with the rest of the US team in the Olympic Village, etc. It just seems like something we as a nation should be proud of. A group of guys getting it done, but doing it with respect for others, respect for the Olympic ideal, and genuine pride at representing the best of our country.

Check out this breathtaking video of Marvin Gaye busting out the national anthem at the 1983 NBA All-Star game.

Now check out this sweet Nike commercial, involving Mr. Gaye's above performance. If you look closely, you can see one of the players wearing (gasp) a backwards Minnesota Twins hat! Who the hell is that guy? Anyways, I'm really not a jingoistic person, or one of those people who flag waves blindly or anything, but this is just cool, no matter how cynical you are. Props to Nike for getting it done.

I have no problem being that guy. They just showed a panoramic view of the Forbidden City in Beijing on NBC.

I was there.

Omelets

2008-08-21T17:14:00.001-07:00

I made the most God awful omelet tonight. It was an embarrassment to my egg-cooking prowess, which I pride myself on. So offensive to reason, good taste, and humanity in general, I'm somewhat amazed I didn't face some sort of official punishment. Lucky me, unlike my legendary cafetiérè coffee, no one else experienced it.

For those of you not in the know, the photo above is of a legendary omeletary (I made that up) in Sedona. Possibly the most amazing breakfasts ever, surely the best coffee mugs. If you ever want to see one, I have one. Anyways, I post the photo in the same way I'd hang an icon in a Greek Orthodox church. Maybe if I pay enough homage to it, it'll take mercy on me and forgive my unspeakable creation.

On a similarly horrifying note, I think I might try my hand at banana bread one of these days.

Well, I've now survived two whole days of actual law school. Is it intense? Yes. Will it be exceedingly difficult? Most likely. But can it be done? I think so. Now I'm lazing about my dad's house, listening to some orchestra play the hell out of "Pines of Rome" on the radio, staving off the gag reflex that my omelet is still triggering, and reading about theories of punishment in criminal law. I know, I know, spectacular evening. I might go to the Hamline Bar Review tonight at Grumpy's. Bar review, get it? At a bar? I think that's unceasingly hilarious. Sort of like Tony Gúzmansson. Gets me every time.

It hasn't been as challenging getting used to Hamline as a physical place as it was to Luther. Probably has to do that I'm basically invested only in the School of Law building. Really, nothing else on campus applies to me, save the fitness center, which I have to check out. It is an exceedingly ugly place, I think, in comparison to Luther, but I'm sure it could be worse. I do appreciate that the library has windows, unlike Preus. It actually kind of looks like the library at Notts. But most of the other buildings seem to have been designed by the same firm that built Dick Cheney's underground bunker.

The whole non-residential aspect is kind of strange. One would think that I would be used to that, with Nottingham and all, but this is not the same. The fact that I'm living with my parents, devoid of any other Luther folk (or Hamline for that matter) sets it apart from the uniqueness of Notts. Additionally, St. Paul is nowhere near as integrated as Nottingham was, as far as a transportation standpoint. It's probably a 15 or 20 minute bike ride, which is similar to the ride in Notts. But like I said, it just doesn't seem the same. This disconnect between school and home, not only is it a physical gap but it is a psychological one as well. I suppose it probably doesn't help that I really haven't met many people either. But regardless, it makes me glad for my choice of Luther, with the residential mentality.

There's definitely a diversity of people who choose to go to law school. People of all types, shapes, sizes, ages, hairstyles, etc. Quite a few second career students, actually. It would be interesting to see how the student body of say, Hamline compares with Minnesota, or Harvard or something. All my professors seem very good and interesting. It's nice to see that becoming a lawyer does not necessitate a transformation into the societal slug that is often portrayed in the media.

Anyways, the state fair starts today. I think last year was the first year I didn't go; I'm planning on remedying that this year. I'm not one of those people who attempts to fish for their social life online, but Trombone Shorty is playing for free at the bandstand next Friday and Saturday... And for that matter, Tom Morello is playing on Harriet Island on Labor Day, fighting the power and such. If my workload isn't too intense, I'm thinking of going.

Well, I should probably finish up some stuff. It's nice to be starting something new. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't intimidating, but I'm sure it'll turn out alright. It's also nice to keep in touch with Luther friends who are in similar, yet different situations from myself. Being, starting something new. As a good friend of mine mentioned the other day, off into the expanse we go!

New Shoes

2008-08-16T21:01:00.000-07:00

That's the name of a Paolo Nutini song, right? Just flashing my cultural competence a little.

Anyways, today in my boredom (and reluctance to read about torts and contracts), I went out on a bit of a shopping excursion. I had wanted to purchase an academic planner, but since even my most mundane shopping list turns into a real life issue of Consumer Reports, I ended up wandering aimlessly around Barnes and Noble for 40 minutes, froth slowly forming at the corners of my mouth, preening over one Moleskine notebook or another. Of course, my trip ended in failure, as I couldn't make up my mind over how much money I wanted to spend in comparison to what I was getting. Most shopping trips of mine end like this.

Except, on a whim, I stopped in a Famous Footwear. I've been on somewhat of a quest to either procure a pair of Birkenstocks or new sunglasses before summer ends. And to my surprise, there was a suitable pair of sandals in my size and a quality color. On sale. After quickly consulting with my mom on the wisdom of the decision, I bought them. Right on the spot. The somewhat cute checkout girl was enamored with my Union Jack Discover card, I flashed her a smile and flexed my forearms as I wrote my signature. Then promptly left, ripping the sandals out of the box on my way to the car.

I must say, these sandals are life changing. It feels like I've encapsulated my feet in like, a tiny little mattress. Or bubble wrap. Or maybe a pair of miniature hovercrafts. Honest to God, I was walking around today on them and I had to remember if I was in fact walking on my feet, or maybe just hovering a few inches off the ground. So, watch out Oneota Community Co-op. Next time I'm in Decorah, me, my earth toned clothes, and my Birkenstocks are coming in for some fuckin' granola.

I've been watching equestrian events at the Olympics. So, if you're the winning horse, do you get a gold medal? I mean, think about this. The rider isn't the one jumping over fences, you know? The horse is doing all the legwork, he's the one pumping up the heartrate. The rider is just that, along for the ride. Gives a little direction here and there, sure, but you can't say that their physical exertion is outpacing that of the horse. So, I'm hoping it's the horse that wins the medal. Maybe the rider could get a commemorative pin or something like that.

Now I'm watching some badminton. This is cool, they have men and women's mixed teams. They are playing significantly more intense badminton than what I used to play in my backyard. Quite ridiculous, actually. I'd recommend it.

Album of the Week: Duke Ellington Meets Coleman Hawkins

2008-08-13T08:54:00.000-07:00

This might be the first time I've reviewed a jazz album. Might as well start with a great one, right?

On a production note, I'm happy to say that most of the thought process behind this occurred last night at work at Walgreens, where I literally listened to the whole album and took notes. Busy night.

Anyways, I initially got into this album because our "signature" piece in Jazz Orchestra was Limbo Jazz, which is the title track of this album. If any of you recall, we used to process in and dance around like idiots whilst playing the sweet, sweet sounds of Sir Ellington here. This song was actually more of a joke than anything else. If you listen closely, you'll find that Limbo Jazz is based off the chord progression of the happy birthday song. Apparently, during the session, someone had a birthday, and Duke and the gang just started riffing off of it, coming up with Limbo Jazz. It just happened to get caught on tape, and voila. I love its joyousness, especially when band members start singing along. You can tell these guys are having fun.

One of my favourite moments in the entire history of Western music happens in Mood Indigo, the second tune on this album, at about 2:56 in, when Duke starts playing these series of three chords that are heartachingly gorgeous. I still get chills listening to it. I also love the swirling tenor solos of Hawkins. Listen to it, it legitimately sounds like he's up there just sort of spinning stuff out of nothingness. His improvisations just have this great quality of motion and circular motion. Love it.

Incidentally, Coleman Hawkins is regarded as the first great tenor sax soloist, coming up in the big bands of the 1930's. He's the one that really helped to assert the sax's dominance in jazz over the clarinet. Forever afterwards he was known as the President of the Tenor Sax. Or Prez, for short.

For me, Mood Indigo and Limbo Jazz make this album worth the price of admission, but the whole damn thing really is unbelievable. Nearly every song has what I can best describe as a very chocolately sound, a lushness of orchestration and sound. One of the more interesting tracks is the last song, The Recitic. This features some jazz violin, with a really fascinating marching band-esque rhythm on the trap set going on throughout. I love when the violin interacts with Hawkins.

When two masters of their craft meet together to create something both new and old, good things happen. If you want a perfect illustration of this, go buy this. Two of the most influential musicians in jazz history, supported by an all star group (most of them Ellington regulars such as Johnny Hodges, Ray Nance, Sam Woodyard, and Harry Carney) doing what they do best. Absolutely fantastic. Jazz lovers, heed this call.

That time.

2008-08-10T19:20:00.000-07:00

So, it's that time of the decade again. Summer Olympics time.

I must say, I'm a fan of the Summer Olympics. First, it gives me something else to watch besides the Twins handing away their late inning leads. Secondly, this is possibly your only opportunity to watch sports such as sabre, archery, and team handball for the next four years. Isn't that glorious, the opportunity to watch all these obscure sports? Sports that when you think about it, some of them are pretty ancient. Pretty basic.

Like track and field. What is more elemental to the human experience than running? Running away from a woolly mammoth, running away from an approaching army, running to reach a destination before someone else. No implements, no nothing. Just legs and determination. The will to succeed. The strength to endure.

People are always talking about how the Olympics rise against politics, yada, yada, yada. For example, Russia has just recently invaded Georgia, but a Russian and a Georgian athlete were hugging on the podium of some air rifle competition. It's an interesting theory, I don't know if I quite believe it. Apparently members of the US basketball team were ready to make a statement on Darfur in Beijing, but now they've decided that they're just there to play basketball, not make statements. Which is entirely their option. And I don't know if I think US athletes should necessarily speak out about Tibet, Darfur, whatever. It seems hypocritical to do so, when we ourselves have done unspeakable things in Iraq. So, I don't know. This conversation is going nowhere.

I'm looking forward to watching our baseball team. Fun fact, I once met the manager of the British national baseball team. He actually gave me some tips on my swing, in my single glorious season as an amateur English baseball star. I guess that doesn't mean much, considering Britain didn't even qualify.

I spent Christmas 2006 in Geneva, Switzerland. I wouldn't recommend going to Geneva for more than say, 2 days. It's kind of like a French city, minus the charm, joie de vivre, and general attractiveness. Seeing that I was there for 3 or 4, one morning I took the train to Lausanne, in a singular pursuit of the Musee Olympique. I was alone in my quest, others were preoccupied with someone or something or God knows what else. And it was, well, it was an interesting morning. A morning I think I'll always remember. Since no one else was there, it's only mine. Well, kind of. You know the feeling when you're so self-reflective, so absorbed in your own thought, it's like you're with another companion? That was what it was like. Can't quite remember why.

That's a brazen lie. I can remember why, but I'm not telling the internet.

Back to the story, I ambled aimlessly down towards Lake Geneva, hoping to run into the museum which I sought, really in no rush to be anywhere.

Eventually, I came across the museum, which you entered through an Olympic Park. I had an album of Olympic fanfares on my iPod, which I listened to. The park had a variety of sculptures, signifying the Olympic spirit, praising the glories of human competition, of peace. It had a very dignified entrance, a repository for the Olympic flame was nearby. I had expected a museum celebrating the glories of games past, which I naively thought would have a distinctive American flair. That was incorrect.

Instead, the museum was a testament to the world, to the universal spirit of camaraderie and competition. I remember feeling a little out of place, I was alone in the midst of many families, almost all speaking foreign tongues. Unlike the British Museum, or the Archaeological Museum in Athens, the Olympic Museum had no specific national agenda. When I think back, this is what made it unique. It celebrated the world, not one nation or another. It seemed to intimate that through the spirit of competition, individual countries created something much greater than themselves. Like a magical sporting wonderland. An unspoken utopia, if only for 2 weeks at a time.

Of course, this utopia is just that, a utopia. Like Tom Paine's cosmopolitan democratic world. But, it's a nice thought. And I think, that's what I needed that day. Pissed off at being stuck in Geneva, wanting to be somewhere, anywhere else. Enraged that my fucking coffee cost 8 fucking dollars. Bored on Christmas, frustrated at more than a few things. Starting to get worn out. Wanting to go back to England.

I've thought about England a lot lately. Maybe it's the cosmopolitan nature of the Olympics. Maybe it's because of an e-mail I got today, something sent out by an acquaintance in the Peace Corps. Wishing I was out adventuring again. I'd kill for a pint of Roaring Meg at The Lion, followed by a quiet walk down Wilkinson Street.

I'm tired. Big week ahead.

Album of the Week: Abbey Road

2008-08-06T19:16:00.000-07:00

I've been kind of on a Beatles kick lately, spurred by a chance discovery of "Rubber Soul" and "Magical Mystery Tour" in a half price bookshop. When I showed them to my mom, she asked if I had gotten "Abbey Road" yet. When I replied no, she looked at me with shock and sadness in her eyes, and told me I had better get a hold of it quick. Even she had it. So I took her advice and bought it on Amazon.

Now, I've only listened through the album once so far, so this is a fairly preliminary review. But what really impresses me most is the diversity of musical styles and melodic ideas on this album. It careens from psychadelic to hard rock, whimsy to seriousness, a cliché Beatles sound to things almost otherworldly. I mean, "Come Together" rocks with the best of harder stuff, while "I Want You" almost has a Hendrix-like vibe to it. But flying in the face of all reason, this hodgepodge collection of musical ideas locks in together like a vice in terms of overall musical direction. Not only is there incredible diversity, but it is executed with excellence throughout. Every song, no matter how radical, seems as comfortable and focused as the next. This is truly an album in the purest sense. The second half of the vinyl LP, or like, tracks 11-16 on the CD, is more like a pop/rock suite. The songs meld together, ebb and flow, to create something much greater than the sum of its parts. Really quite stunning, I think. Transfixing even.

Many folks are like how I used to be, liking the Beatles only because as music lovers, you had to like the Beatles. I suppose this summer has kind of been a sort of revelation to me, in that I'm discovering just how incredibly advanced this group was. Damn, still is. This shit is as complex as Beethoven's Ninth, but in a much different way. If any of my enormous readership has not given the Beatles a chance, or is complacent as I once was, or just hasn't explored much, I'd really encourage you to do so. I don't care whether you're into alternative, classical, jazz, Icelandic post-rock, shitty top-40, or whatever. Sometimes you just got to get back to your roots, you know what I'm sayin'? I mean, this is art in its purest sense, art that NEEDS TO BE HEARD. I'm kind of awestruck, that a group can be so incredibly popular and be so damn good at what they do in the meantime. A far cry from some of the popular musicians of today.

I'm now somewhat ashamed to share this, but I will nonetheless. On one of the last of my weekend jaunts down to London when I was in Nottingham (damn I'd kill to be able to do that again), I stayed in a hostel up in Bayswater, just maybe a 10 minute's walk to the crosswalk that John, Paul, George, and Ringo memorably traverse on this album cover. They even gave out directions at the desk to get there. And I did not go. May the gods of rock have mercy upon my soul.

However, when I was in 7th grade, I did don a wig, a white suit, and circular glasses to lip sync to "Here Comes the Sun" as John Lennon. That counts for something, right?

I suck.

2008-08-05T11:28:00.000-07:00

Pretty much self explanatory.

Back to this fucking pharmacy.

Wood Panels

2008-08-04T11:30:00.000-07:00

My dad moved from Lakeville up to Falcon Heights a few years ago, probably when I was in 11th or 12th grade. I was somewhat resentful at this, resentful that my dad got remarried, resentful that she didn't want to live where we had lived happily ever since I was born. How could she make him leave a home full of memories, a neighborhood filled with old friends, a beautiful yard? As such, I refused to help in the move, considering it my prerogative as a teenager newly full of angst. Needless to say, my room which had been depository of my belongings forever, was simply shoveled into boxes and shipped up to St. Paul, where it was promptly left in my "room" in the basement. Since I never considered this new house to be home, I didn't bother to unpack anything. And as time went on and bitterness faded, I simply didn't want to bother with it.

Considering that I'll be spending a fair amount of my life in this basement during the next three years, I figured it was about time to do something about all this shit.

It's really somewhat shocking, I never knew I had so many Farmington High School academic planners, or obscure music awards. Nor all this Minnesota Twins stuff, though I suppose I should have guessed that. It's just kind of bizarre, shoveling through all this stuff from another era. I ran across some photos of my senior prom and graduation, and was somewhat taken aback. Typically I only see the professional photos that were taken of both events, it's strange to see how slovenly I looked through my dad's candid lens. Why the hell was I wearing Vans with dress khakis at our band banquet? Did I realize I looked like a heroin junkie? So strange to see a girl who, at the time, meant everything to me. Now, she's just like everything else. I have a notebook at my mom's, that I used to use as a sort of journal in mid-high school. Incredibly embarrassing, to be sure, it's full of juvenile pinings for this individual or another and what now seems like pointless angst. Usually about once a year I pull it out just to remember how ridiculous I was. I suppose hindsight is 20-20, but isn't that funny, how something so intense at the time can be looked back on as being so insane? Nothing from back then seems real anymore, but it surely was. I guess I'm just sort of amazed at how different a person I used to be four years ago.

A couple key finds:

Autographed photo of Kirby Puckett (basically my prized possession of middle school)
A bulletin board covered in scouting awards
My 5th grade baseball picture on a Wheaties box
5 Orange Dollars from Farmington Middle School (pretty sure those should have been cashed in say, 9 years ago)
A 6th grade adjective project where Sebastian the Macaw takes a world tour

You get the idea.

It's just funny, I spent most of the summer trying to make my mom's basement presentable, just sort of ignoring the fact that I was going to be spending more time up here. And of course, no one ever came over. Now I'm sitting in a wood paneled time capsule from 8th grade, much closer to where other folks live. Oh well. Life is full of small challenges.

Wow

2008-08-03T19:02:00.000-07:00

Last night, I had the unfortunate luck of having to watch about an hour of "American Pie: The Naked Mile."

The plot is really quite stunning actually. Oscar-worthy, I would imagine. It goes something like this. One kid, afraid of graduating high school a virgin, fails to score with his girlfriend and goes to visit his cousin at college on a "guilt free pass" for the weekend. Conveniently, it's the same weekend as the annual "Naked Mile," where, as you might have guessed, everyone runs a mile naked. As expected, the unnamed college is apparently populated solely by hot, large breasted women who have no inhibitions about shedding their clothes and having lots of sex, and beer swilling frat boys who are choking on their own testosterone. Our hero almost scores with a hot sorority girl, then rides a horse (literally) back to his hometown where he declares to his girlfriend that he loves her, and it's not about the sex. They promptly have sex about 15 minutes later, the guy drives back to the college and brags about it to his new pals. In the midst of this, there's a whole lot of drunken revelry and an army of "bad guy" midgets. I think my favourite part was when the two frat boys accidentally took Viagra before the running of the naked mile, then at the bash at the frathouse afterwards, they play ping pong baseball with their boners. Now that's visionary filmmaking.

Seriously, what the fuck? I mean, is this what people think college is actually like? In four years of college, I'm fairly certain I was never at a party where everyone just got naked for the hell of it and screwed around. (I realize naked soccer might parallel this film, but since I never actually witnessed it, it's not factoring into my thought process) Is this what some idiot thinks relationships are really like? That it's a cakewalk to attract a super hot girl and then have sex 10 minutes later? That that's what's central? What the hell is wrong with these people?

I don't know, the sex was so absolutely gratuitous, the humour so unbelievably tasteless, I couldn't really handle it. It was obviously made for people with the I.Q. of a hammer. And I mean, I feel I can handle crude humour with the best of them. I think most of the stuff Judd Apatow has put out is hilarious (40 Year Old Virgin, Knocked Up, etc.). But seriously? Playing ring toss with your erect penis? Give me a fucking break. The only way it could have been worse is if I was watching it in an IHOP and there was a scene involving ESPN giving sexual favours to the Red Sox, Yankees, and Dodgers (which happens nightly on "Baseball Tonight").

This story by The Onion is just really funny I think. I also like the bit about Al Gore placing his infant son in a rocket to escape the dying Earth.

I wish I had something more interesting to talk about. Something with some sort of oomph, but I'm afraid I've been a bit humdrum lately. The daily routine of my life has lately been kind of crushing, like there's no respite. I work at a job I don't really enjoy, go home, listen to some music, watch the Twins highlights, wish I was with people, rinse, repeat. Get angry when people who claim to understand me really don't, or they wouldn't be making me watch shit like I explained above. It's right about time to start doing something meaningful again.