Tiny Planet

Have you heard?

2010-11-03T12:27:00.001-07:00

Need to build your Springsteen-meets-Garden-State playlist to mellow out to while waiting in an empty airport on a cloudy fall day? Yes? Then check out Coco et Co. Listen to “Slow Dance” first.

The album is five bucks for eight songs.

Foiled again!

2010-02-27T11:57:00.000-08:00

This morning I wanted to make some changes to my car insurance policy online. Coincidentally, a tsunami was headed toward Hawaii. My genius insurance company spotted my genius plan a mile away:

"We're sorry. We're unable to process your request.

This policy change is temporarily restricted due to a(n) hurricane in Hawaii. Please try back later. If you would like to change your liability coverages, or add a vehicle with liability coverage only, we can assist by phone."

Three things: (1) the people at my insurance company are apparently very good at what they do; (2) I appreciate them taking time to properly work out the spelling for "a(n) hurricane"; and (3) does their Auto Reply vocabulary insert "hurricane" in the place of "any possible freak disaster that might cost us money"? Would an asteroid shower or alien invasion prompt the same message?

The year 2010, in which I fight the battle of the cockroaches -- and win!

2010-01-17T11:12:00.000-08:00

For any of you mainland types with your "seasonal changes" and occasional "freezing temperatures" you might be wholly unaware that parts of this planet are under continuous attack from cowardly, sinister foes, none more sinister than the dreaded Periplaneta americana. Seemingly overnight, the populations inside, underneath, and around my house have reached levels somewhere between totally gross and nightmarish. I had resolved to live in peace with them so long as they stayed mostly out of sight, but they pushed the boundaries of our truce and began showing up in the middle of dinner parties, or while quietly watching sitcoms on Hulu, waltzing casually across the living room floor just to show us that we are pansies and they neither fear nor respect us. Or maybe the every increasing size and numbers was pushing them recklessly out into the world. Ordinarily an insect lover, I knew I had no choice but to get my bug-hate on, or before too long these meter-long things would lift me bodily from my bed whilst I slept, take over the lease on my house, and kick me out to the streets where I would roam forever with the stray cats of Honolulu. (And these cats.....not such a good crowd to run with.)

I summoned all my powers. I would be satisfied with nothing short of complete extermination. First, the supplies: I looted ever home improvement store for miles, loading entire aisles of their most deadly poisonous stuffs into the back of my truck. Then, the attack: I waited until dark, suited up in Tyvek and night-vision goggles, and embarked on a caffeine-fueled rampage that made "shock and awe" look like "Sunday-morning-walk-in-the-park-with-a-puppy-and-an-ice-cream-cone". My trigger finger never once cramped up as I unloaded aerosol can after aerosol can upon the teaming hoards. A fuming, toxic soup of OrthoKillRaidMaxXxtreme soon sloshed around and under our abode. I ignored the visibly dissolving concrete footings of our house and, cackling maniacally, mocked the vile creatures while they, caught off-guard, staggered about blindly, inhaling cruel, nerve-shredding gases, finally admitting defeat, each one carefully, painfully folding in legs and wings, turning over, and ending its despicable existence upside-down. Later, the neighbors would recount stories of a crazed lunatic with superhuman endurance fighting what seemed an unbeatable foe, nay triumphing when others would have surely run screaming in fear. I say simply, I did what I had to do.

This morning's paper tells of strange happenings at the port of Honolulu; of an entire city's worth of roach-bugs scrambling to the harbor, chartering a cruise liner, and heading out to sea, some say to Cancun, others Hong Kong, but nobody really knows. In restaurants, markets, and homes across the island, not a scurvy little bug remains to be seen. Apparently, word has gotten out island-wide. The vile insects everywhere live in fear of a recurrence of the madness that was Roach Fest 2010. You're welcome!

2009-12-23T21:28:00.000-08:00

Watching "It's a Wonderful Life" with the air conditioning on is so wrong.

2009-06-02T13:17:00.000-07:00

I've finally had to admit to a disturbing trend in my lifestyle since moving to Hawaii: banana consumption. I guess in a way this is okay news, since bananas comprise nearly all of my non-meat consumption. I know what you're thinking: when will the madness end? And what does the meat graph look like?

Lava!

2009-05-29T12:21:00.000-07:00

This lava tube was maybe the coolest thing we saw. Just a couple of days ago* it was filled with red-hot magma.

*not true

J+K vs. the volcano

2009-05-27T15:52:00.000-07:00

We hopped on over to the "big" island for a little while to explore all things destructive, and naturally we rented a house in the tsunami zone just downslope of the volcano. What could go wrong?

With all the spectacular natural lighting, and the picture-postcard-perfect scenes at every turn, I find myself pining for a much better camera, but these will have to do for now.

2009-04-25T13:29:00.000-07:00

2009-03-31T13:49:00.001-07:00

2009-03-24T11:35:00.001-07:00

Posted via Pixelpipe.

V is for Vegetable!

2009-03-22T09:02:00.000-07:00

I've been saying for years now (mostly to myself) that what America needs, now more than ever, is more Victory Gardens. Call me a hippie-wack-tree-hugging-granola-fiend, but I can't think of a better, inexpensive family or individual activity that accomplishes the terrifically relevant ambitions of getting dirty while using almost no dirty energy, being more healthy, exploring carbon sequestration and nutrient cycling, getting to know your own micro-ecosystem while making it a better place, understanding more of God and nature....etc., etc....than to plant a small garden.

So while I have a hard time wrapping my brain around giant Keynesian economic stimuli, matters of national security, and whether world leaders will make appropriate decisions at the Copenhagen climate meeting later this year, there is one decision of this presidency that I can solidly support: the tillage of soil that began last Friday in preparation for an organic vegetable and flower garden on the South Lawn of the White House. Publicity stunt? Maybe. Sure, there was a photo op: the first lady with a shovel; the first lady surrounded by little kids. And they made sure the garden will be visible from the street. But when I look more closely at the details, I realize this garden was planned carefully, thoughtfully. First, it's 1100 square feet. That's a sizable garden, easily enough for, say, 200 salads a year, with plenty of time and room for a healthy rotation of compost. Then there's the well-designed layout of the garden: simple and functional, with central pathways lined by low-lying flowers.Those flowers are well-chosen, robust, fast-growing. They will attract both birds and insects, and round out the diversity and ecological balance of the place. (I know, totally designed by a granola head, right?) What's more, the nasturtiums are edible, and the marigolds are a natural nematicide, and the zinnias make a great cut flower. Now look at the selection of vegetables and herbs. Where's the iconic sweet corn (which requires so much space and nutrient input for very little yield)? Where are the giant sunflowers (ditto)? Every garden has them, right? Nope, not this garden. You'll notice that most every plant and variety on the map is delicious, leafy and green, and can be eaten nearly in its entirety, raw, no cooking preparation required. Michael Pollan will be proud. The peas are an exception: while you can't eat an entire pea plant, peas are legumes that make natural nitrogen fertilizer for the rest of the garden. Brilliant!

Oh, then there's the recognition that the White House kitchen scraps will be composted into the garden. And the two bee hives. And Michelle Obama's insistence that the whole family be involved. And this is the first time since WWII that this has happened! Make us proud, Obamas. Make us proud.

4-day weekend!

2009-01-15T22:04:00.000-08:00

No seriously, tell me what you really think.

2009-01-12T11:29:00.000-08:00

Classes started up again today. This plant is in the genus Arabidopsis. My plant physiology professor referred to it as a "stupid little plant." Excellent. I hope he's that blunt with his comments on my exams.

He also teaches Child Development 101.

Not really.

Waves! Shrimp!

2008-12-06T10:48:00.000-08:00

Last week we escaped from Honolulu (a very rare occurrence), rented a car, and drove up to the North Shore where, by coincidence, the best surf of the winter so far was waiting for us. And no, I didn't get in the water, on account of I didn't want to die that day. Here's some video from Pipeline.

Down the beach a little farther, the O'Neill Men's World Cup was happening. It was cool and all, with the 20-foot waves and obviously very athletic surfer-dude-brahs. Four guys at a time paddle out for a 30-minute session and try to rack up the highest score they can, while trying not to get pummeled too badly. Because of the obviously challenging conditions, some guys might catch only one or two waves during their whole session, so there's a lot of waiting and watching involved. The scoring system was a little bit lame to me. A high score seems to depend on how many times you can cut back and forth from the crest to the trough of the wave (typically about three times before the wave closes out). Then you get extra points if the wave barrels over you and you get to ride inside it for a while. My problem was that getting the highest score wasn't necessarily about the most skillful or risky riding, it was only about waiting for the type of wave that would let you get a few good turns in before you could bail out. I thought there was a lot more potential for the guys to show off their style and their skills. Instead, every ride looked pretty much the same, and it got kinda boring after a few minutes.

For a delicious lunch, we went in search of the shrimp truck. This was something we'd been hearing about for a while, and it was totally shrimp-tastic! We got what everyone gets, the shrimp scampi. And no, it has nothing to do with pasta. It's a plate of twelve shrimp, in their tasty shells, smothered in garlicky butter, with a couple of scoops of white rice. And a cold beer. For good luck I got a little of the burn-your-face-off hot sauce on the side. I can't tell you how satisfying that was, after a long, difficult morning of beach-bumming.

If you see her, say hello...

2008-10-17T01:09:00.000-07:00

The wifie is off in California (lucky!), leaving me stranded on this crazy island (yes, the very same island where they make "Lost") which can mean only one thing.

It's time for a Godfather marathon!

(I've never watched all 3 back-to-back, and this weekend, I think that's the ticket.)

"I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart!"

Oh, and if you do see her, tell her I'm working very hard and the research proposal is going really well.

(The next day....)

2008-09-18T09:48:00.000-07:00

Okay, I know I totally left that hanging. But after slurping up all that pig-feet goodness it got so late, and.....I'll just recap.

First, you have to understand, pig's feet, it turns out, have very little.....what do you say.....meat? on them. Mostly there's bones, and in between the bones is this weird, sticky, gelatinous connective tissue that turns progressively softer the more you cook them. Then, the whole thing is wrapped up in skin. I only had about 3 and a half hours. Based on what I've read, if I had let them go a couple of hours more, they would have been a more ideal consistency for consumption. Nonetheless, I'd say we thoroughly enjoyed them. Even with the very strange, gluey texture (like nothing I've ever eaten), the flavor was soooooo good. The onions and garlic and white wine worked wonders.

What would I....no will I do different next time? Cook them a couple more hours, that's about it. I'll bet when they're completely falling off the bone they'll be perfect. Oh, and next time I think I'll try getting some bigger ones, with more of the "shank" or "forearm" part attached (more meat). Va bene! I'ma drooling already!

This little piggie...

2008-09-16T19:15:00.000-07:00

Since moving here, we've been making a conscious effort to live cheap. That means not exploring all the restaurants in our neighborhood quite as fast as we might want. We don't spend as much as we used to on alcohol. For now, it seems kind of adventurous, even fun, a little bit of a game.

I have to admit shopping for groceries in Chinatown usually makes me giddy, partly because that's where things tend to be cheapest around here. But mostly, it always brings to mind some of those juicy foodie books I've read, (Kitchen Confidential and Heat) and shows like "Iron Chef" and "No Reservations." The grosser and more exotic the food, the better. Sunday afternoons, chances are Kendra and I will find ourselves wandering through Chinatown looking for animal parts we've never seen before, exploring all the nooks and crannies of the haphazardly laid out fish markets and trying desperately to interpret the dirty handwritten signs propped up in front of piles of, say, chicken feet or crazy-looking spiny fruit. I'm shamelessly okay with stopping and staring, or pointing and asking "what is this?" or "how much?" My challenge is usually trying to find cheap sources of protein. Fortunately for me, Kendra is pretty much okay with letting me get anything (at least once). A few weeks ago it was some nummy chicken gizzards. One of these days I'm going to get a huge beef tongue and pickle it. But this past Sunday I settled on pig's feet. I found a nice market way in the back that had them in frozen form, and they kindly offered to cut them down the middle for me with their giant meat saw. The best part: two hefty piggy trotters set us back less than 4 bucks.

I was so excited about cooking them I decided to discuss it here. I'll probably even post pictures. I know it sounds completely lame and kinda geeky, but this is something I've been wanting to cook for a long time.

Mind you, I don't have any idea of the results right now. In fact, those happy feet have only been in the oven a short while. There's certainly no guarantee this will turn out the way I imagine....succulent, crispy, mouth-watering pig flesh falling off those pig knuckles. Not all my culinary adventures end well. Yeah, just ask Jeremy about a certain "fried calamari" escapade.

Well here goes. I've settled for a simple, slow braise (should take about three hours). I've tossed the feet in a pot with onions, celery, about 20 cloves of garlic, a little water, some salt, a few glugs of white wine, and put the pot in a modestly hot oven. Let the magic begin.

(Hour and a half later...)

The smells are simply amazing. All that onion and garlic are so aromatic, almost overpowering. I can't even tell how much the pork is contributing to this aroma, but I'm not complaining. The feet themselves are becoming brown, moist, shrunken, softer versions of themselves, but in a good way. There appears to be a good deal of fat just underlying the skin, and I think it's slowly beginning to render out. I predict all this fatty goodness, plus a high bone-to-meat ratio will lend these feet a whole bunch of flavor.

(Hour later...)

By now the sweet-savory pork smells are positively intoxicating. I turned the oven up to 350. A nice dark brown color is starting to develop on the pork skin, and the braising liquid has reduced to almost nothing, so I added a bit more water. Shouldn't be long now....

2008-09-10T21:45:00.000-07:00

Today I found a gray hair on my head. Two months and 13 days ago I turned 30.

Coincidence? I think not.

2008-08-17T19:21:00.000-07:00

A block from our apartment there's a street named Walina, and every time I pass by I give a little "Wall-eeeee!" (in my head, not aloud, I don't think) and I keep expecting somebody to say "Eeee-vaaa!" in reply. But that rarely happens. Well, not ever.

Getting lost in Chinatown

2008-08-06T21:14:00.000-07:00

I've started a ridiculous habit while riding my sweet bike around Honolulu on various errands to grocery stores, thrift shops, surf shops, etc. Before I leave home, I study the map very carefully and plan my route. But I don't take the map with me (because I'm not a wuss) and then, on the way back, I attempt to cleverly make my way back by some "alternate route" on "less busy streets" that is very clear in my mind. Somewhere along the way I get thoroughly lost. As in, totally going the wrong way. The other night, for instance, a good hour after I should have been home, I found myself in front of the Ala Moana Towers scratching my head because the Ala Moana Towers are exactly at the opposite end of town from where I thought I was.

In my defense, I'll say that these streets are rough if you're trying to just go with the flow and feel your way around. There is not one straight street in all the land. And breezing through an intersection I can't tell if that sign said Kapahulu or Kapiolani or Kalakaua or Kealaolu. There are nasty potholes and road construction everywhere and the bike lanes just begin and end with no warning and then you darn well better crank it because that minivan taxi that feels like it's about to eat your back wheel really is about to eat your back wheel.

While the cops insist that sidewalks are for walkers and streets are for bikes, drivers don't really acknowledge this rule. I can count on getting cut off at least a half-dozen times on any brief ride. I've tried to exert my biker authority but to no avail, and only recently have I discovered why: it's not my turn yet. There appears to be an unspoken yet carefully structured hierarchy when it comes to cutting people off, and it's based on resident seniority. The longer you've lived here, the closer you are to the front of the queue in terms of bad driving privileges. For now, that crazy cab driver out-ranks me, but I calculate that I'll be safe from all front or back bumpers by 2081.

Embracing the SPAM

2008-08-04T22:20:00.001-07:00

Calling Hawaii home means, of course, that I have to eat -- and like -- SPAM. I consider it an honor and a duty. Else I shall return to the mainland in shame. After just three days here, I felt it was high time to try the delectable mystery meat treat. I chose my first experience carefully, in the form of SPAM Eggs Benedict at Lu Lu's, my favorite neighborhood breakfast joint so far. I was both surprised and a bit concerned when the waitress informed me she had never had anyone substitute SPAM for ham in this dish. (Had I made a terrible mistake!?) But in the end her own willingness to try it fortified my decision.

And the resulting dish was all I wanted it to be. The sweet-salty succulent taste and texture of SPAM complemented the Eggs Benedict quite well. And how can you go wrong with a product that lists among its ingredients both ham and pork. Now that is really living.

So when I found tins of SPAM in an 8-pack at Costco, I couldn't resist buying. Now we won't lack for sweet-salty protein for at least a month. Just think of the possibilities: SPAM scramble for breakfast, SPAM sandwich for lunch, grilled SPAM steak for dinner. Mmmmmm.....

Book your tickets!

2008-08-01T00:24:00.000-07:00

After just a couple of days frantically trying out apartments (no joke, one landlord insisted on checking us out on the FBI most-wanted list) while attempting the bus system (great!), we've miraculously moved into a small third-story, 1-bedroom place about 3 blocks from Waikiki Beach. We think it's the coolest thing ever, for lots of reasons: our landlord is totally helpful, the place is almost completely furnished, the rent is decent, it's in a neighborhood we like a lot (I think there are about 20 Asian restaurants within a ten-minute walk), and it takes me 30 seconds to get to the only bus I will need to get to school.

...and I just got a sweet deal on a surfboard.

...and we live in Hawaii. Still getting used to that.

Here are a few pics:

I know it looks like our luggage just kind of threw up all over our apartment, but we think this place is so cool.

"has very low kitchen"

2008-07-28T23:18:00.001-07:00

...so I call this nice lady today to ask her about her house for rent, and the first thing she asks is when we want to move in. Of course I tell her we're ready to move in right now. And then, naturally, she asks, "Are you over six feet tall?"

Huh?

Turns out, the place "has very low kitchen," according to craigslist. In my hurry, I had overlooked that detail, or simply didn't understand what that meant. She explains to me that there are low ceilings involved, and with my height, I might be uncomfortable in this place, but I should come check it out anyway (which the wifie and I will be doing tomorrow at noon), particularly because of the other words used to describe the place: "funky" and "charming." Now to those who knew our Oceano house, it might certainly be described as both funky and charming, so I'm already feeling really comfortable with the thought of this place. Aside from the possible height limit, of course.

//

(...oh, and check out that little thingy on the right, next to my picture. That changed!)

2008-07-27T21:54:00.000-07:00

goodbye California soil, for a while

2008-07-24T17:47:00.000-07:00

I think this humble heap of crap represents the sum of my earthly possessions. Or at least the part that will accompany me to Hawaii.

Oh, and in case you didn't know, moving sucks.

Reason #497 not to move

2008-07-19T10:01:00.001-07:00

Chacho's!

This luscious Mexican take-out is a mere stone's throw away (or burrito's throw, if you prefer) from our house. I can suggest the carne asada burrito with everything -- beans, rice, guacamole, sour cream, enchilada salsa and cheese melted on top.

Sweet, sweet unemployment

2008-07-17T18:51:00.000-07:00

How do you end your last day of work? Stay out late cavorting with these kids, of course!!

(see? big Anna, little Wiens)

Damon & Naomi / weeds

2008-07-14T18:10:00.000-07:00

Always happy to find threads of inspiration and beauty leading away from or toward Luna, my favorite band of 2003-2004 (and one of the most underrated bands of all time), I was was very pleased indeed to spot Damon & Naomi, formerly the drummer and bassist, respectively, of Galaxie 500, which until 1991 was fronted by Luna guitarist, vocalist, and songwriter Dean Wareham. Anyway, sure enough, barely visible, slumped low on the lowest shelf of the listening station, it caught my eye in the record store today, the re-release of the 1992 More Sad Hits, apparently a tribute of sorts to the breakup of Galaxie 500. I'm totally biased, and I imagine for someone unacquainted with G5, it might seem totally pedantic and unmemorable, but for me it is a psychedelic breath of fresh air. Mmmmm....

//

I have TWO DAYS of work left. That means I have almost nothing left to do. My cubicle is nearly empty, nobody's stuffing my inbox with impossible-to-review reports, and I surf the net a lot, while gently deriding my cubie-neighbors with insults that they take all too well. Honestly, I'd like to have more time to spend at home pulling weeds:

Catch-up! 30! Tropicalia! Sigur Ros!

2008-07-12T07:05:00.000-07:00

I guess somewhere between selling all our furniture on Craigslist, deep-cleaning the house and yard, and trying to squeeze in all sorts of quality time with our peeps, I've wandered away from my posting obligations. So in an effort to catch up, I offer three tiny glimpses:

1: I turned 30! My wifie and friends did a killer job of making it a memorable weekend. Tsurugi and Frog & Peach one night, barbecue the next day. Naturally, these crazy kids were there:

See that? That's home-made ice cream!

2: Fourth of July, we rented a giant pickup, loaded up the contents of the garage along with Arlo and big and little Wiens, and drove up to the parents' place, where Corr and Brian and Kev and Krissy were waiting for a weekend of revelry. And we wore our swimsuits the whole time. It was, of course, a balmy three hundred degrees and there was much pool time, wii-bowling, barbecue, etc. Kev got baptized and Brian and I got to dunk him!

3: After years of living a stone's throw from the beach, we knew we were long overdue for a beach bonfire. This one came complete with cloves, and was preceded by wine in the backyard (of course), more wine on the patio....er....fence in front of Mamma's Meatball, and a scrumptious Italian meal.

//

On the drive back from the 4th weekend, music-man extraordinaire Arlo shared with us Tropicália: ou Panis et Circenses, the amazing Brazilian collaboration album from 1968 that I wish I had discovered long ago. Having had barely one good listen to it, I'll go out on a limb and say that at worst it's in the running for my favorite discovery-album of the year, and at best it's a work of genius, and perhaps the single most exciting chunk of music I'll hear in my lifetime (aside, of course, from Glenn Gould's 1981 rendering of the Goldberg Variations).

And speaking of genius, I'll just go ahead and hit you with a double. I was in Boo Boo Records yesterday, and came across the new Sigur Rós album Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust. Knowing next-to-nothing about the band, I had almost no expectations. As it turns out, it's absolutely epic. This album shows the band equally adept at minimalist piano lullabies, gigantic neo-classical orchestrations, and ear-pounding rock jams. And those Vonlenska lyrics? Who cares. They're beautiful, whatever they are. Jónsi Birgisson could sing you the Thursday morning paper in that voice and it would be mind-blowing. Yep, my babies are going to grow up Sigur Rós fans. Just have a listen to "Festival" and you'll know what I mean.

Let's get it over with already

2008-07-01T20:31:00.000-07:00

As I officially launch into the very last month that I'll perhaps ever live in SLO-town, I realize the emotional roller-coaster is starting to kick into high gear. I simply love this place too much. An evening spent at Spike's, for instance, is almost enough to bring me to tears. I'm excited to leave (who wouldn't be?) and still all twisted up inside because I absolutely hate that I'm going. What's wrong with me?

To make matters worse, close on the heels of this insoluble dilemma is another pet problem I can't shake: somehow I'm compelled to constantly wrack my brain itemizing every last possible thing that I want to do, see, or eat before I leave this place. And woe is me if I leave something out.

Here's the thing: I usually think of myself as a guy who's pretty okay with just about everything, and certainly not subject to fits of neurosis. It's at times like this that I find myself alternately clinging to that guy and wanting to curl up on the floor and have a good bawl.

Ralf und Pismo

2008-06-30T18:59:00.000-07:00

Once in a while, I pretend that I'm really into my German roots, or at least aware of them. For instance, I'll on occasion feel a twinge of pride when happening across (read "discovering") German music that elevates me to commit acts of finger snapping, or even head bobbing (cynics would blame the mug o' beer in my hand, but I sneer at cynics).

Kraftwerk is (I know, deep down) a phenomenon one might wisely avoid like the plague, let alone embrace. But sometimes Kraftwerk just works (e.g. with a mug o' beer). Thusly, today I'm satisfied to dredge up something I heard recently on the ever-krafty KCPR. From the 1973 album Ralf Und Florian, it's "Tanzmusik."

//

And in honor of this weekend's beautiful, mellow summer surf, here is my very own California beach.

...and if you look really really hard, you can just barely make out my house in the distance, just behind the....ummmm....sand.

Transpacificism

2008-06-25T00:07:00.000-07:00

Ben Gibbard isn't getting old at all. We went to see Death Cab For Cutie tonight at the SB Bowl, and they were so un-disappointing, nay terrific, that I felt a little bad for thinking Narrow Stairs is rather a valley amidst their consistent series of album-release peaks to date.

Secretly, I had feared they would only play the new album front-to-back and exit the stage leaving us sorely unsatisfied, glum, and willing to pathologically re-think all of our relationships since childhood and deem ourselves complete failures. Secretly, I wished Ben would consult me while putting together the set list for tonight, so that I could rescue the band from certain doom. ("Trust me, I know this SB crowd, and they're not going to want to get stoned while contemplating 'pity and fear.' They, like, wanna hear about glove compartments, bro.")

Lucky for me, I had no reason to worry. DCFC, as if reading my sentimental soul, took on all my favorites from the last six releases, plus they rocked out and made us very okay with Narrow Stairs (as if I needed help with that). I couldn't have crafted their set better myself--unless I made them play for another couple of hours. From Ben's acoustic "follow you into the dark" interlude, to the opener for Something About Airplanes, to "Manhattan" to what would have been my pick for the only friggin' way to end the show--the back-to-back encore "Tiny Vessels" bleeding into "Transatlanticism" (which, so you know, has positively nothing to do with the distance between California and Hawaii, and IS NOT even remotely an apt metaphor whatsoever for my impending trans-Pacific lifestyle move)--DCFC delivered the finest performance I could have custom-designed. Dangit, I sound like a fan. Wait, I am a fan. I bought a shirt. Does that mean I'm a fan? I have all their albums. Does that mean I'm a fan? I listen to them all the time. Does that mean....?

Those Nigerians

2008-06-23T21:40:00.000-07:00

Came across some crazy 1970's Nigerian jazz tonight from a group called The Funkees. The song I'm listening to is "Akula Owu Onyeara."

...but different.

2008-06-23T17:10:00.000-07:00

Conversation at work today:

Me: "Between quitting work and throwing out all kinds of junk at home getting ready to leave California, it's been a very cleansing time for me."

Friend: "Yeah, that must be what dying feels like: yay, I don't have to deal with all this s**t anymore!"

SMD / Napa

2008-06-22T18:48:00.000-07:00

Checked out some stuff this evening from rockers-turned-electronicists Simian Mobile Disco. Good solid stuff. I liked "Simple" and "Hustler." Almost makes me want to go buy jeans at A&F. Almost.

//

The weekend was very cool.....er, um hot. Record-settingly hot! But luckily we were in Napa to help Cole and Brianna get married at Uncle Bill's vineyard.

Soon to be a bottle of Caymus near you. Crazy!

Garage, I'm yours (for the next 40 days)

2008-06-18T20:25:00.000-07:00

The garage is getting emptier (and yet more chaotic) by the minute!

And I think this is officially the first trunk-load to be launched northward for a two-plus-year respite in the parents' garage. (Thanks parents!)

//

Enough with the ear-catching, foot-tapping new releases already!!! I wanted very much to hate the new single, "I'm Yours" from Jason Mraz, but I simply cannot. I really need to move to some country where "Top-Forty-ness" doesn't exist, just to get back in touch with my indie-sensors.

(Does Honolulu qualify as a different country? Hmmmmmm...)

Chromatics / Truman Pond

2008-06-16T16:22:00.000-07:00

Yet another cool thing about our neighborhood: the [mosquito-infested] duck pond.

Caught this very good song "I Want Your Love" by Chromatics on my drive home today.

Buhlud! No funnyyyyyyyyyy!

2008-06-14T09:40:00.000-07:00

Funniest video ever.

LA sucks.

2008-06-12T20:52:00.001-07:00

Lakers.
Up by 24.
At home.

And still lose it?

Sorry guys, you deserve it.

Bringing down the house!

2008-06-11T12:03:00.000-07:00

Okay, I totally don't agree with his hair (maybe I'm just jealous??) but Newton Faulkner has that very catchy song "Dream Catch Me" that they play all the time on one of those Santa Barbara top-40 stations that I'm embarrassed to have as a pre-set in my work truck. I usually don't do this, but today I'm a sentimental fool and the blogability meter went off when I heard it for the 147th time.

//

Spent a very happy weekend at home with the parents. Got to impress the wifie yet again with my mad hammer-wielding skizzles as Dad and I totally destroyed the front porch of their house -- it's okay, it's a re-build job. Seriously, nobody can't not take down a roof better than me and Dad. Nice work, dude!

El Morro!

2008-06-03T20:54:00.000-07:00

And then there was the Spanish fort. Giant cannon balls, clever little stone gun turrets, open-air peeing areas....what's a guy not to like? It turns out this place we were staying (old San Juan) is the oldest city with the US flag flying above it. And nothing says "old" like a 16th-century stone fort. And let me tell you, this wasn't like those little dirt forts I used to make back in the desert in Riverdale growing up. This thing was serious. Like twenty foot thick walls serious.

And ironically just a little over a hundred years ago we tried to bomb this place back to the stone age during the Spanish American War. Now we are proud owners. Hmmmmm.....

Lechonera!

2008-06-02T20:25:00.000-07:00

Okay, I know. My "picture-a-day" mission has failed. But I can try to explain.

I've been in Puerto Rico for a week, and due to a slight failure in communication with our vacation-rental landlord, I found out too late that "free internet" didn't mean "free wi-fi." See, I had intended all along to post a few pictures every day from our vacation (it was our 2-year anniversary last week, by the way!) and I took my laptop along and everything. But, as it turns out, there was no wireless interweb-ness, and so I was stuck with just an extra 6.35-pound brick in my carry-on. So back in Cali I'm left to catch up and present something of the magic that was....our week-long vacation in PR.

So tonight, while I don't have much time, let me just say this: a while back, the wifie and I were viewing one of our favorite Travel Channel shows featuring scrumptious and exotic foods from around the world being lovingly, hungrily searched out and summarily consumed, and we watched food-man extraordinaire Anthony Bourdain wolf down chunks of succulent roast pig-on-a-spit in Puerto Rico. We turned to each other and said: "we must go there." And so it was that we found ourselves, 2 years after our wedding day, at Lechonera Los Pinos up above the town of Cayey, watching a large man hack apart our lunchtime feast with a very intimidating knife-sword. And it was everything we hoped it would be.

Mission accomplished.

Dirty little badger

2008-05-19T21:18:00.001-07:00

This little bugger and his buddies haunt our backyard, sleep under our house, eat our compost and lovely ripe tomatoes, and wake us up with pitter-patter across the roof at all hours of the night.

Cinco de Mayo

2008-05-19T20:55:00.000-07:00

Our fifth annual Cinco de Mayo bash was a hit! Once again, Big and Little Wiens made themselves very photogenic:

Aside from my wife, Matt was about the best slow dance I've ever had.

//

I've heard enough about The Bad Plus to give an official recommendation. "Giant" is pure musical imagination amazingly executed.

Taken by Trees ... and tomatoes!

2008-05-15T22:28:00.000-07:00

It's about time to feature Victoria Bergsman. She is/was the magical, lilting voice of The Concretes, as well as the feature of Peter Bjorn and John's super-duper-catchy "Young Folks." But solo, she is Taken By Trees. Pick a song, any song. Let's say, "Lost and Found."

//

Now just fifteen days ago I took a photo of the tomato plants in my front yard. And see how they've grown!

Death Cab for Cutie: Narrow Stairs

2008-05-14T18:21:00.000-07:00

Ben Gibbard is getting old.

Defunct relationships, contemplations of death, dating women who have kids.....yeah, Ben's all grown up. It feels like he can finally say things he's wanted to for a long time. And for the first time he doesn't have to hide his ever-introspective poetry inside cute lyrics and splashy hooks just so we'll keep listening. This time we have to listen, because DCFC is big-time now. They've hit "long-awaited" status. And it's about time.

Expect some grey clouds, darker than usual. Death Cab even gets close to breaking into a little grungy guitar-bass jam not two minutes into the album. And the lyrics follow suit. It's not that DCFC albums haven't ever treated themes like human mortality and broken relationships before. But where Plans' "who's gonna watch you die?" seemed sung by a twenty-something-year-old about feeling lost amidst untimely death, this album's repeated overtures to death, lostness, and failure take on the solemnity of a writer going on forty and not being able to stomach the view in the mirror. We are led to believe that Gibbard's relationships always have and always will turn out cruelly wrong. All but forgotten is the carefree sweetness of nighttime drives through the country that I loved so much about Transatlanticism. Now those country drives are tainted by the smoke of wildfires. Indeed the first refreshing, if bitter, line in the album comes in the context of cleansing by fire: "I couldn't think of anywhere I would have rather been / To watch it all burn away." No kidding, that's the only sigh of relief I can think of in all eleven tracks.

I don't want to give the wrong impression. I really like it. At the end, I'm glad that musically the album delivers what I wanted it to. That melodies still sparkle and pop. That Ben Gibbard still writes the best slow songs ever. That amidst the greyness, the depressing resignation to less-than-ideal relationships as life goes on, the "pity and fear," the old clothes that don't fit like they used to, Death Cab still finds a voice and a way to be self-deprecating, to be a caged bird and at the same time remember how it feels to be alive. Given the content, it holds up remarkably well as a coherent body of songs. Lots of people are going to say it's such a downer. So be it. I say it's a fresh, and very necessary, ode to realism, where Plans and Transatlanticism had been so over-sprinkled with idealism. And on top of that, there's the fact that the band can still really jam.

Sure, most of me really does miss the younger, brighter stuff. Transatlanticism for me will still be quintessential Death Cab. That is, until Ben works the growing pains out of his system and gets back to writing about stuff like inaccurately named parts of cars, and why dating is cute, and different names for the same thing.

So thanks, Ben, for the reminders about real life. We hear you. We feel for you. Now plow through it. We'll be waiting on the other side.

//

and tonight...with Anna and Matt....at Spike's, the best little beer joint in town:

The letter at last

2008-05-08T21:05:00.000-07:00

Arriving home late, overtired from so little sleep last night, sniveling from sinus congestion and raspy sore throat, I open the front door to Promising-White-Envelope-Hanging-From-Ceiling:

Bless my little wifie, she had found a letter (THE letter) from UHM in the mailbox and devised cleverly to surprise me.

In short, it says that I am accepted to the Master's program in Tropical Plants and Soils, that we will be moving to Hawaii in three very teeny-tiny months, that we hate(!) leaving all our lovely and most treasured friends here and will miss them tremendously and won't they please come with us.

Phone calls to parents, etc., etc.

We go out and celebrate. Sushi, naturally...

crystal castles and barns

2008-05-06T13:32:00.000-07:00

Drivin down good ol' Highway 1

//

Crystal Castles: some very good minimalistic, danceable electronica, but I predict I'd be very weirded out at one of their shows. Why? Okay, these are the "influences" they list on their MySpace: "murder, blank looks on girls, knives." That's it. That's it?

Nonetheless, two songs you should...nay must check out are "Courtship Dating" and "Magic Spells."

Not sure if I will have a garage this cool again EVER

2008-05-05T18:23:00.000-07:00

tools
beer
drum set (thanks Wiens!)

how did I get so lucky?

//

Nowegian samba, anyone? Yeah, this evening I was checking out The Royalties, today celebrating the release of their new album. Those background vocals on "Lady o' the silver wheel" just kill. Most appropriately, I was listening to "Music for Cooking with Gas" at precisely the moment I realized I was burning the veggies under the broiler!

Hey, check out this band!

2008-05-02T17:04:00.000-07:00

If I was in a band, I think maybe I'd want it to be kinda like Elf Power. Just plain solid music. Okay, not terribly interesting music. But not boring music either. Just solid. Check out "Spiral Stairs" for instance.

//

I wanted to make sure I hiked Reservoir Canyon at least one more time before I leave, and this morning I did. I think I like it because it shows off everything I like about the SLO-outdoors.

Diagnosing your bug problems from 9-5 daily

2008-05-01T13:52:00.000-07:00

Dee's rendering of evil parsley-chomping alien monster bug in her kitchen. Ummmm, sure, that's an aphid. (If I tell you what it really is, I'll have to kill you.)

//

This guy John Maus is gutsy! He only posts the bad reviews of his music. Nonetheless he made #2 on KCPR's most played list this week. Plus, and this is the best part, he TEACHES AT UNIVERSITY OF HAWAII. Have a listen to the weird/catchy "Loverboy."

They just don't make water-dispensing firearms like they used to

2008-04-30T18:31:00.000-07:00

The garden is growing like mad! Mad I tell you!

A while back Matt gave me some Peter Bjorn and John to listen to (Writer's Block), and on my drive to work I've gotten stuck on "Young Folks."

The new Puerto Rico book is here!

2008-04-29T19:05:00.001-07:00

And it's a beauty.

Now I just have to learn how to say "Vieques" without sounding like a fool.

And today's song is "Motorcrash" from Life's Too Good by The Sugarcubes. So good!

And yes, I know I AM A SLACKER.

With apologies to B. Kays

2008-04-23T16:41:00.000-07:00

At the end of episode 7 of Breaking Bad there's a very groovy track that starts to play just as credits roll, and I was thinking "That's very good, one of those Nina Simone remixes, right?" Wrong. Not even waiting for it to play out, I consulted the Google, and was instantly filled with a deep self-loathing: Gnarls Barkley. How could I have fallen for that? To acknowledge the hypnotic coolness of something coming from an outfit who have so recently been atop the singles charts all over the entire world....what would my old Stenner roommates say? Have I really let my morals slip, compromised my musical soul?

Well yes, yes I have. I've just been listening to it again (and again) and gosh it's good. With a Thievery Corporation kind of goodness. Or like one of those Nick Drake tunes they'll still be using in soundtracks a generation from now.

Anyway, that (*ahem*) amazing song is called "Who's gonna save my soul" and it's on last month's album The Odd Couple.

Great, now I've got to go bury all my Radiohead stuff in the backyard.

Props to the local boys

2008-04-22T21:13:00.000-07:00

Today's feature: a SLO band! Oh, but to be fair, they've since moved to San Francisco, where music is for real. Nevertheless, Scissors for Lefty's song "Next to Argyle" is nothing if not catchy, held up by a tastefully minimal post-punk sensibility. Just a hint of The Cure there on that track?? Anyone? Anyone? And that sweet guitar solo 3 minutes in is totally Dean Wareham-ish. Just thought I'd point it out. Makes me happy.

So it's been freakishly cold here this week, but, thanks mostly (I think) to my nifty greenhouse invention on the back porch these seedlings have decided to make an appearance anyway. Cantaloupes, cucumbers, and in the foreground, lettuce.

earth day

It ain't boring cuz it's my backyard

2008-04-21T07:11:00.000-07:00

From the bedroom window this morning. Frank Lloyd Wright's got nothin'!

Listen to Frightened Rabbit doin' "The Twist."

Oysters / Tapes 'n Tapes

2008-04-20T15:30:00.002-07:00

Check out Tapes 'n Tapes....

....and this impressive collection of oyster shells under the little oak tree just off our back porch. I swear every weekend there are more.

Carrizo! / Fleet Foxes

2008-04-15T19:23:00.000-07:00

they're the coolest!

Well I was admittedly very ambitious when I said I would post a picture a day. I have slacked, but for good reason: this weekend spent on the Carrizo Plain with Anna and Matt. There was much merriment, including but not limited to beers and steaks, baby owls in the tree above where we slept, Indian rock paintings, and the salt flats of Soda Lake. Oh, and I regret to inform that we were unable to jump up and down with enough vigor to cause an earthquake on the San Andreas fault. Sorry, we tried.

And music today comes from Fleet Foxes. I'm just going to go ahead and recommend the entire EP Sun Giant because it rules! I haven't come across a band this exciting in a while. If you took a tight bunch of hippies, stuck them in a cathedral to sing hymns and folk songs directed by a Gregorian monk, gave them little more than a drum set and a mandolin, this is exactly how good it would sound. Four stars!

El Perro del Mar

2008-04-11T09:03:00.000-07:00

Sure, it's simple, but how can you go wrong with airy vocals and lyrics like "oh what a feeling for a dog" El Perro del Mar. The song is "Dog."

You'll just have to wait for the photo post, cuz the crew are headed out to Carrizo for the night.

April 10, 2008

2008-04-10T21:11:00.000-07:00

My co-worker Matt assures me that stopping on the way home from work to take a picture of this field of lupines is "so gay." Nonetheless:

Hey, this didn't turn out anything like I wanted it to!

But shortly afterward, I heard the old "At This Moment" by Billy Vera & the Beaters, and forgot all about that. Sappy and undeniably catchy!

Let the ho-hum photography begin!

2008-04-09T20:02:00.000-07:00

So, in a shameless identity crisis of sorts, I realized just the other day that I have approximately one hundred days left to live.....on the Central Coast of California. Before I move to Hawaii. Yeah, cue the pity party. But really, I think of all the happy times here, from Cal Poly days onward, and think "okay, I'm justified in feeling nostalgic and maybe a bit messed up right now."

And to chronicle these last hundred or so days and capture alternately those happy times and these nostalgic bursts of confusing pain, I decided the best way I know to document this pre-Hawaiian crisis is with two of my favorite things: photos and songs.

It's about as artsy as I get. Yep, over the next few (sometimes uncontrollable-sobbing-fit-inducing) days I intend to take a pic a day, and find a new song every day that makes me perk my ears up, or at least not want to hurt myself.

WARNING: the pics will be VERY ORDINARY. The songs will be....well....given my unflagging taste for anything indie....everything from very un-memorable to pretty darn good to mind-blowing. And I'm a sucker for covers and most anything Stevie Nicks sang in the old days, so unexplainable choices might creep in now and then. Just go with it, future me.

So to begin with: today's song is from Arcadio and is called "Birds in the Belly".

And this is my backyard this evening. So ugly, but I've spent so many happy hours here!!!