SuperSatellite ||

I went.  I went and it was good.  After nearly a decade of listening to regional act Caroline’s Spine, after nearly a decade of missed shows, and CD’s spun to death, Miami, OK was a place that brought me supreme joy last night.  And maybe it was just the joy brought with anticipation, but I dare say that show is in my top 3 concerts of all time, even though it was a smallish thing.

I was able to get right up in front.  The biggest disappointment is my lack of pictures.  I tried, but my phone did not cooperate.  But screw it.  Those memories will live on.  Probably the only show I would be more hyped about right now is if Our lady Peace came back through.  I picked up a CD, got a guitar pick (which was neat, because on the back of the pick, which you can’t see below, it actually had the band name stamped on it), and had it all, and my ticket (#1 mind you) signed.  Am I fanboy?  Sure, I’ll take that title on.  I’ve only ever bothered getting two other albums in my life signed.  One was trash, I was just young and standing in the wrong line, the other were guys I knew.  I just figure it exemplifies the importance they have for me.

I just missed the drummer.  It was late, people were getting cranky about leaving, and he was back up on the corner of stage, so we missed him.  BUT, apparently hope is not lost, because while the impression was that this was sort of a last hurrah tour, they are apparently putting out a new album in January.  I giggle in anticipation.  So last night was good.  I am happy.

I am apologizing in advance for tonight. It’s been a few days since I’ve posted anything, and not for a lack of things to write about, I’ve just sort of been saving up the stuff. Now though, I’m afraid this will be quite long, so I’ll do what I can to keep it entertaining.

Of course, the real trick here is figuring out just where to start. Also trying to remember what all I had to say to begin with. Dammit. I’m worse than my own worst enemy sometimes. Well, let’s start with movie stuff, because that’s what I just finished with. Pirates of the Caribbean 2 was excellent. Great CG. I won’t spoil anything though. Just go see it. What I will discuss is the “pre-game.” The trailer for Snakes on a Plane played. They audience reaction was pretty damn worth it. A comical mix of “what the hell” and “what the fucking hell.” Frankly, and I say this with all seriousness, the damn movie is brilliant. The hype that has been built up around that movie is going to make it a fortune. You’re damned right I’m gonna go see it. And I’ll love it, because I know exactly what I’m getting. Snakes. On a plane. Samuel L. Jackson. I expect no more and no less, and know that’s what I will get.

Transformers. Man, you can’t imagine my hopes for this movie. In case you haven’t seen it, you have to go check out this demo footage of Optimus Prime transforming [youtube.com]. The trailer the movie had was just a teaser, but even it was cool. I cannot emphasize how much you have to go watch that sixteen seconds of happiness linked above though.

During the pre-light-dimming phase, the movie theater runs those silly little slides, you know? Well a bunch of them are quotes from EOnline.com. Now, I can’t remember any, and despite the fact that the slides claim you can visit the site for more celebrity quotes, I challenge you to do so. So you’ll have to take my word that these things are some of the dumbest and most pretentious sounding comments on the planet. Who picks that shit?

So I played mini golf last night. I had to succumb to a new level humility. Not like “oops, I tripped of my shoelace I hope no one saw” humility, like “oops, I forgot I’m supposed to wear clothes to my high school graduation” humility. It was bad. That was quite possibly the most masochistic $3.00 I’ve ever spent. And I really like Chinese finger guffs, if you know what I mean. Anyway, I shot a 17 over par, only a slight nine strokes worst than last time. I got one hole in one that I can only assume was fate fucking with me. Sorta like giving a kid a lollipop before stabbing him in the ass with a hypodermic needle. Maybe I’m just too mousey to play minigolf [re: inside joke, sorry folks].

You know, despite the fact that Nickelback is about as inspired a band as Nirvana (sorry, but let’s face it, their music is farking simple), I like them just the same. Sometimes the depth and creativity of a band isn’t as needed as just a decent rhythm (that’s a hard word to spell). Regardless, I found this link [thewebshite.net] that Rachel showed me quite humorous. And scary. Considerably more scary the second time I listened and really paid attention. Give it a try. It’s like a bizzaro world Pepsi challenge. With itself.

I want to know who hit the Pittsburg city officials with the brilliant stick. I don’t know how, or why, but someone realized that maybe, just maybe it might be a neat idea to make Locust not a one-way. And I think they are going to follow suit with Pine. I am dumbstruck at the practicalness of this decision. What’s next, left turns on Broadway uptown? God forbid! I am certainly not complaining, but if they keep doing shit like this, it’s going to make it increasingly difficult to pick on them. Granted, they are stripping and resurfacing a big chunk of Broadway south of Quincy, which was super convenient combined with the traffic jam it caused and having Joplin street closed off because of the stadium. So I will hold off on giving the gold star just yet.

Looks like my job is really fracking cool. Granted, I have found a great deal of enjoyment in what I do now. But to top it off, I get to go to New York in October for a conference. Yeah, that’s sort of work, but it’s kinda a vacation too. I’ve never been to New York, and while it’s Rochester, not NYC, I’ll take what I can get.

I regularly check out Break.com. Today they had a video posted [break.com] that I felt a compelling need to share. I hate sharing random internet video clips too much, especially since you need nothing to follow up that Transformers clip with, but this did make me laugh. I love the end when the one guy is heard saying “our skin is fucking gone.” My only hope now is that I can find a way to convince one of my friends to do that. Maybe while drunk…

Music has become something of a focus for me lately for a number of reasons.  First, Josh and I re-established the connection between our servers, forging and rebuilding an empire of music that most radio stations would be envious of.  A nexus of musical accomplishments from all eras.  Originally my MP3 collection breached the 10,000 files mark.  A couple crashes took care of that, but so far I’m back up over 8500 and climbing rapidly.  Besides getting back old stuff I used to have from Josh, I found a nifty little site called AllofMP3.  It’s Russian (don’t worry, it’s in English), and of questionably legality, but it’s far more inexpensive than iTunes.  Look at it this way, it’s not like buying burnt CD’s out of the back of a white van in a dark alley, more like buying drugs from a pharmacist.  You assume he has all the needed licenses and such, and you don’t really check, you just buy your stuff and be glad it’s there.

Second, I just got a new acoustic modeler pedal for my guitar.  It was cheap, but it’s not half bad after I played with the settings on it for a bit.  It sounds as good as my Telocoustic, which I’ll be selling in favor of a full size acoustic.  I practice daily now, and have been keeping up with it quite effectively.  The best part, it’s showing.

Third, I learned Passion by The Nixons tonight.  Damn easy song.  It inspired me to record a cover of it though.  A recording that not only will never see the light of day, but has already been resolved to the island of lost bits on my computer.  The guitar came out all sorts of alright really, but my god I never knew I could sing so badly.  And not like “ew I can’t stand my voice” bad, but like “that guy from American Idol would piss on me, kick me, insult me, and remove my testicles and in the end I’d be better than when I started” bad.  I couldn’t hold a tune to save my life.  Fucking vocal cords and their utter uselessness.  How do people do it?  I think an angel lost it’s wings because of my attempt.  Well, I never could play and sing at the same time, now I have an excuse to never learn how.

Well, a friend of mine pointed out last night she enjoyed reading my blogs because they were funny or entertaining or such.  I forget the actual word used, but being the thesaurus that I am, I was assured it implied  they were enjoyable, if nothing else.  But it got me thinking, that of recent, I’ve become somewhat dry.  At least I think so.  So, this is for you.  Enjoy.

So the concert last night wasn’t bad.  Without going into a full on show review (I don’t do that anymore, SuperSatellite never paid me enough, heh), I will comment briefly.  First, Razorwire Halo.  Well guys….I’ve never heard okay music come from seemingly such little effort.  I mean, if they were much more energetic, they might have fallen asleep on stage.  They weren’t bad, what they did, they did well, they just sounded lazy.  Really it sounded like late gen Manson.  Not that Manson is bad, I loved Antichrist Superstar.  But that’s the thing, I loved Antichrist Superstar.  That album is a decade old.  His new stuff….eh.  And thus Razorwire Halo…eh.  Find a unique sound guys (and gal.  To their credit they did have a hot, however married bass player), and try putting in some real effort and turning down the distortion a little, you’d be surprised.

Muddpuddle Dive wasn’t too bad.  Definately more lively, though that’s not saying much.  Fairly generic Godsmack/Staind type rock.  Worth four sentences at the moment.

The Lonely had a lot more going from them.  I won’t give them much credit in the singing department.  But what they lacked in melodious ramblings, they made up for with enthusiasm.  How this techno rock meshed with an audience that occasionaly let our little 12 year old schoolgirl squeals is beyond me, however.  You’d be listening, nodding to the phat beats yo, and all of the sudden a screeching noise would rise from the front rows like a Backstreet Boy had just snuck up on stage.  I don’t get it.  Then I am reminded that I fear even talking to a girl outside of The Fence without carding them first.  I think the average age outside The Fence is probably fifteen at the oldest.  I felt really bad for the mom in the pink sweater who was clearly only there because she brought a son or daughter to the show.  Kudos for the watching of the kid, but I’m not sure pink ever looked quite so out of place.  Except maybe that one thong I keep in my shelf for the occasional sniffing purposes.  Moving on…

Foxtown is great because they have this big fishpond thingy in the middle.  It’s the most disgusting looking thing in the world.  Camels would look at that water and say “Fuck you, I’d rather just use up my hump and die before drinking that,” then they would spit on your for suggesting such a thing.  Apparently recently they decided to fill it up with toilet bowl coloring, or some similar article, leaving the water blue-green and oily looking.  And the frightening part is that there are actually fish in the water.  Demon fish which have been known to eat spit, cigarettes, paper, severed toes, and anything else they can get into their mouths.  They will fight over these things like pirana, despite a lack of any apparent nutritional value..  Moving on, like any Foxtown regular, I found it to be my duty to find a moment to “feed” the fish.  I spit into the water, I saw them rise to the surface, but they didn’t eat the spit!  The implications are frightening at best.  It is obvious that the combination of nonedible articles, toxic blue water, and human spit has resulted in the fish becoming smarter.  They are making decisions, judging things….plotting.  I for one welcome our new fishy overlords.

The night concluded with dancing at Mooreman’s.  But that, my friends, is a story for another day…But I can say, at least this time, the dancing didn’t end with anyone falling on my penis.

28.34.  The magic number for today.  I am pleased with it well enough.  Of course, I’m probably one of the only people who can find a way to make a trip out to Foxtown and back take almost thirty miles.  I am, of course, talking about biking.  Today just felt like a good day to get out and see what I had after all winter.  While the distance was good, the average speed, which we won’t speak of beyond this point, left much to be desired.  So for now I think I’ll be working on that.  Anyone can ride distance, but doing it at a pace that’s respectable is another matter.  I managed to get a bit of sun too.  Why I didn’t use sunscreen, not really something I can explain logically.  It’s not bad though, just some red arms.  It’ll be good for me.

Speaking of Foxtown, I’m going out for the second show in two weeks there.  The Lonely is playing tonight.  A friend of mine is their bassist.  I probably wouldn’t bother if it weren’t for that though.  I dunno, we’ll see if they’re any good.  Techno-rock isn’t the top of my genre favorites, but sometimes the mood is right.  If nothing else, I’m out of the house though, so regardless, could be worse.  Just hoping the rain holds off and blows past.  Naturally I washed my car last night.  Oh well.