Friendship.

Last night I was out with my friends in the Mission as always. It proved to be an... interesting experience.

As most of you know, I hold my friends in the highest esteem. They have always been for me. They have always looked out for me and supported me in damn near everything I've done (unless that something is damn foolish). I know that I can entrust them with any secrets and can always turn to them for advice and comfort. But there was something that I saw last night that proved exactly how good some friends are. Luckily it didn't involve me, nor do I hope that I ever put my friends in a situation like this.

It was last call. The guys and myself were leaving the bar and heading back to the car. As we paused, we saw it: two guys stumbling down the street. We giggled, exchanged the "oh man, they're going to hate themselves tomorrow" looks and stories, and kept on walking. So did the guys. We continued to be quietly amused in watching these guys weave their way along the sidewalk, clinging to each other for uprightness. As I looked a tad more closely and I was startled. "Holy crap -- that guy is missing a shoe!" I couldn't keep it to myself. The guy who was the far more visibly intoxicated of the two was walking down the street with one tennis shoe on and one sock-clad foot. Down 16th Street. Past the puddles of urine, past the gum and cigarette butts, past vomited-in alleys. Nothing between his foot and the concrete but a thin layer of used-to-be-white cotton.

Not even a third of a block had elapsed when I suddenly felt elbow jabs from my friend. We had walked by a storefront where the lighting was better than what we'd had at that point. I followed his pointing finger, and couldn't believe my eyes. My amazement was confirmed as my friend said to me in hushed tones: "He fucking pissed himself." He couldn't be more right. This poor fool was not only stumbling down the street being held up by his friend, he had lost a shoe and pissed his pants. There is no way to even begin to describe what kind of state that guy must have been in.

However, the whole time as we were trying to keep our laughter to a minimum so as to not draw attention to ourselves or to the fact that we realized dude was walking down the street in one shoe and pee pants, I had to stop and think for a moment "wow, that dude's friend has got his back far and beyond most anything anyone could expect." And while I honestly think that my friends would take care of me if I were to get into such a state, I rest happier knowing that my friends are quality enough that they would keep me from getting in that state in the first place.

Persistence.

So today I happened to do something I don't often do: I finished two books within about a two hour span of each other.

No, I don't read that fast, I just happened to be reading two books simultaneously and each happened to reach their end today.

But here's the kicker of the whole situation: I can't say that I exactly liked either of them. I won't go into details regarding which books they were or anything like that lest I invite backlash and criticism about my snobbish tastes in books, but it got me thinking. Why is it that I can devote hours of my life to something I'm just sort of ho-hum about? It's not like I had high expectations for either of them, or was especially looking forward to reading them - both were more of a matter of curiosity. But still, I can't help but wonder why -- I guess I was hoping that the books would get better. I was hoping the author would suddenly have a change of heart and write a chapter or two that might strike my fancy.

At this point, however, it is curious that books are one of the few things I will wait on like that. I will skip around albums mercilessly, passing judgment based on as little as about thirty seconds of actual listening. Even with people, I don't think I'd give folks as much time as I'd give a generally boring or uninteresting book. Eh, I guess at least for all my effort in reading the books not only can I now roll my eyes with meaning if and when I hear them mentioned, I have no worry of recourse as to the book defending itself or going on the offensive on me.

Does this make me justified in my gripes, or just a jerk? I can't really say anymore.

Musical Realization Plus Some Exciting News

So I was listening to a little John Vanderslice this afternoon, and while I have been enamored with his album "Death of an American Four Tracker" for some time now, I just had a chance to listen to a little bit of his latest album "Emerald City" and he does something that has become a bit of a trend: he is simulating overdriven tape distortion as a musical device. I don't know why this is such an emerging sound, but there are a number of indie bands moving in that direction. When it is successful it can be divine, as in Tapes 'n Tapes' latest album Walk it Off. However, it can also be blatantly over done. Vanderslice doesn't quite cross the line that extremely in his latest effort, but both Sleater Kinney's The Trees and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's sophomore album Some Loud Thunder both do this ad nauseum. I'm not critiquing the bands, just the technique. Hell, even all time favorites like Spoon and The Pixies have slipped in a couple instances of the technique that grates on my ears. I wish I could figure out why people do it, and moreover, I wish those folks would stop. Please - I love a little lo-fi edge to warm up a recording, but let's keep it under control.

Now on to the exciting (at least I sure as hell hope it is as exciting as it could be) news: they are making a sequel do Donnie Darko. Titled S. Darko, it is supposed to document Donnie's younger sister, Samantha, who is troubled with visions of her own. I'm curious because it's an almost real-time depiction of the time that has passed between the present day and when they made the original movie. Sounds fascinating but I hope with all my heart that they don't screw this one up.

City envy of sorts.

I don't know that "City Envy" quite captures what I am trying to describe, but it's about as close as I can get to it. I suppose I'm not really feeling envy, more just... confusion. So here's my gripe: New York gets way too much attention in entertainment.

Just stop and think about it....

Crazy, isn't it? I suppose this all was prompted by one of those silly quizzes from Facebook. It gives you a synopsis of a show and asks you to identify which show it was. Goofy? Yes. A waste of my time? Moderately. Still, as I was taking this otherwise mind-numbing quiz, I couldn't help but notice that an inordinately large percentage of the shows described were set in Manhattan. A majority of modern movies are set in New York. Even a higher percentage of books I've been reading lately have all been based around New Yorkers doing New Yorky things. I realize that New York is a bit of a cultural mecca here in the States. I don't deny it and its influence, but come on. What about shows in LA, in SF? I know there are some, but when you stack it up, I'm sure there are more shows about New York than the next top five cities combined.

I have been to New York, I've seen Manhattan, and I realize that there is a whole lot that the city has to offer. But as my good friend Pete put it, there is a veritable smorgasbord of cultural activity here in SF too. There is history, there is art, sports, everything one could want. Naturally, this isn't the first time that I've realized stuff like this, but it seems lately I've been noticing more and more: while most other stories based in cities use their cities as a backdrop, in most New York stories are all about being in New York. It's almost like the city itself is another character in the story.

Perhaps when all of this thesis mess is all wrapped up, I'll have a chance to do a little more writing for pleasure. If I do, I tell you this much, my stories will damn well be set in San Francisco.

Lame.

What happened to me?

When did this happen? When did I become a bassist?

I had practice with The Lava Rats (that's my band for you kids keeping score at home) tonight. It was the first time I'd played guitar instead of bass at a band practice for the first time in probably six weeks or so. Guess what?

My fingers are killing me.

No fooling. Two hours of playing guitar rather than bass for a change. Two hours and my fingers are a wreck. Yes, the weather is cold and dry. Yes, my strings are slightly old and ever so slightly crusty, but still. I used to be able to play rotten old acoustic guitars for longer than I played tonight and my fingers would feel roughly this bad.

I've lost it. I'm a wuss. I can still make the notes sound the way they're supposed to sound. My fingers are still nimble as ever, but those skinny little guitars strings are doing a number on my otherwise stout calluses.

I feel like an amateur. So I'm going do to the only thing I can do: I'm going to bed. Then I'm going to play more guitar in the next week or so, then I'm going to practice again and I'm going to show those scrawny guitar strings who is really the boss.

Over informed?

As I have discussed more times than I feel necessary, I don't watch a whole hell of a lot of TV. I prefer my life this way. More than anything else, I despise the news. It seems like any time I am cruising up or down the dial, there is some news broadcast telling me what is wrong with people around me, be it local, national, or international. Quite frankly, I find watching the news painfully depressing, so I try my best not to. Like so many people of my generation, I get the bulk of my news from the internet. It's pretty catch-as-catch-can, but it assures that I only really hear about the major events, which really are more or less the only things worth fretting over in the first place.

So tonight, I happened to be spending a little quality time in front of the toob, which is a rarity in itself, and I happened to see a commercial from a local network. This is not the network that decided to come up with the harebrained scheme to run a news broadcast at 9:00 p.m., for all those people who can't wait that ever important hour between the time that the hour long 7:00 p.m. newscast ends and the standard 10:00 p.m. newscast begins. No, this network actually keeps a generally standard news schedule in the day/evening time. However, it was their morning broadcast that struck me as a result of this commercial.

Now, before I get into the inanity that you'll hear about momentarily, I will mention yet again that I am not a morning person. On average, the time from when my feet hit the floor when I'm out of bed to the time that I step out my front door never exceeds fifteen minutes. This leaves no time for news broadcasts, no time for breakfast, no time for much of anything outside of the morning ritual of tooth brushing, deodorizing, getting dressed, and packing up. I don't understand morning news in general. I really don't understand people who wake up any time much before six or six thirty in the morning. But then again, I am sitting here at ten minutes to two, wide awake.

But I've kept you in suspense long enough -- on to this commercial. This commercial was for the morning news broadcast that started at 4:00 a.m. Yes, four in the morning. The time I tend to go to sleep on a Saturday night. Now, I understand that there are some people who have to wake up that early. It's understandable, especially if they face an epic commute or start work at some ungodly early hour. I'd like to believe if you have to wake up every day that early, you don't do so to watch news. Maye there are folks out there who like to use the morning news as background noise. I prefer good ol' music. Now, it's not bad enough that this news broadcast starts some two and a half hours before sunrise -- the broadcast lasts until ten in the morning. Yes, ten. Six fucking hours. That is literally one quarter of a broadcast day. Is television in such a sad state that a regular broadcast TV network thinks it's a smart move to dedicate a quarter of their day to one single newscast. Yes, I know, people wake up at all times in that range, and it's probably the same thing cycled throughout the morning with a lot of weather and traffic and all that rubbish. But come on now -- six hours. That's about two thirds of an average person's workday.

Is this what we've come to? Do that many people care? What the hell ever happened to weekday morning cartoons? Now that was something worth waking up for: I remember all through grade school, maybe even some of high school, I would get up early just so I could watch The Jetsons while I ate my breakfast. If that were to be an option these days, and I could do so uninterrupted, it would be the highlight of my day. Everyday. But no - we have six hours of newscast instead. Thank heavens; now I can stay up to date on coups, regicide, terrorism, and political scandal all before my Apple Jacks. Thank heavens for the information age.

Another recommendation post.

Don't worry too much, this won't get terribly specific. I just thought I'd share a little of the enjoyment I'm having at the moment. This definitely falls into the "finer things in life" category.

It's one of the first nights in a while where it really feels like Winter. True, in San Francisco, that doesn't mean a hell of a lot, since things don't get especially cold here. But it's been foggy much of the day, so the air is clear and crisp. It's cold, but it's a relatively still cold; the wind is mild and really quite refreshing. It's a dark and quiet night, and I am sitting here in my cozy little basement hovel. I've been listening to The One AM Radio as I've been working out finishing the outline for the latest chapter of my thesis. The whole evening I've just had the string of Christmas lights lighting my room. I'm full on homemade turkey-noodle soup.

For me, this is what evenings at home should be, and I haven't had one this peaceful in a while. I am not all hopped up on caffeine as I tend to be most nights when I'm chasing my academic pursuits, I haven't been drinking, which as of late has been a change of pace as well. We all made it through the Thanksgiving weekend, and it is finally starting to feel like Winter for a change. Hell, I think there's even a pretty good chance of rain this week.

So, if you get the chance in the next couple of days, sit back and enjoy the oncoming Winter. This is that beautiful time of the year when you can legitimately enjoy the cold weather, since we're hopefully not tired of it just yet.