Saturday, November 01, 2008

10 Things About California

This morning--Dia de los Muertos, the day after Halloween--I woke up to rain for like the third day in a row. House so dark at 10am that I had to turn lights on, even with all the shades up. In just a couple of months we'll be moving back to Texas, where we both grew up, so I decided to challenge myself by coming up with a list of things I both will and won't miss about California. And that resolution made me think about blogging again, after a hiatus of roughly two years. So, here it is, starting with the bad:

TEN THINGS I WON'T MISS ABOUT (NORTHERN) CALIFORNIA
1. Rainy winters
2. Food, gas, and rent prices, but especially food prices
3. Being far away from family, necessitating expensive plane trips home
4. Driving down to the Bay Area
5. Thunderstormlessness and weird lack of seasonal transition generally
6. Rocky beaches...wtf?
7. Buses with bike racks that never have empty spaces
8. People not waving thanks when you pull over to let them pass
9. State income tax? Or not; I don't think I even bothered to file last year
10. Smog checks

TEN THINGS I WILL MISS ABOUT (NORTHERN) CALIFORNIA
1. Abundant Boba Tea
2. Bike Lanes
3. Food Coops
4. Sunrise Restaurant in Davis, where you can get tasty vegetarian fish
5. Amtrak station 1 mile away, Yolobus stop down the street mean it's not impossible to travel regionally without a car
6. Voting on like 20 ballot initiatives each election
7. West Sacramento house we currently live in, in a neighborhood where we actually know and talk to our neighbors
8. Leftist politics generally not regarded as politically wacko
9. California Chicanidad (which is different than Tejanidad)
10. Smog checks

Honestly, it was a lot harder to come up with things I won't miss than with things I will, and most of my "things I won't miss" are fairly trivial. I suppose that means I'll miss living here--though I'm also glad to be moving back home.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

overheard in davis, california

So my mom is in town for about a week; she's staying with me at my apartment. The couple of times I talked to her on the phone prior to her visit she would always ask me if I was making preparations for her arrival--in particular whether I was cleaning up the apartment. She's the kind of person who does the dishes and cleans the kitchen immediately after a meal, and I am the sort of person who cleans up the kitchen when there's no clean dishes left or someone shames me into it by coming over--whichever happens first.

The night before I picked up my mom from the airport, my kid sister Balubb gave me a call. At some point in our conversation, the following exchange went down:

Mom [overheard in the background, yelling]: Did you clean up your apartment yet?

Balubb: Mom wants to know if you cleaned up your apartment yet.

NNN: Uh. I, ah...haven't started yet?

B [to mom in background, yelling back]: She says she hasn't started yet!

Mom [in background]: Gawd, NNN!

NNN [protesting]: Well, I did clean the bathtub. I cleaned it this morning at the same time that I was taking a shower.

B: Man!

NNN: What? I was trying to, you know, maximize my efforts.

B: So lazy.

NNN: Yeah? Well, later tonight I'm going to clean the toilet at the same time that I take a shit.

It seems to have become the goal of this blog to incorporate the phrase "take a shit" into every post.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

johnny cash + cats + poo = good times

For some reason Johnny Cash's "I Walk the Line" has been in my head tonight. I was singing it earlier, and then M started riffing on it, making up cat-inspired lyrics. The first one he sang started

there's a big fat cat in front of me
it took a shit and now it's gonna pee
it's smearing feces all in front of me...

but then neither of us knew how to finish it.

Then, a little later, he started a new verse:

there's a cat who's mewing for its food
I'd feed it except I'm not in the mood

Then a line neither of us remembers--so I guess it wasn't that good. Then another line from M:

because of it

Long pause while both of us searched for the right line to cap it off. It came to me suddenly:

I took a shit!

Being the three-year-olds we are, we then exploded with laughter.

Sunday, September 11, 2005

from the NNN archives: two suggestive conversations, transcribed

the morning after, we lay in bed till 11 am and make fun of each other.

"this is you last night," he says, breathing La Maze style, rhythmic yet panicky, cheeks puffed out.

"oh yeah? well, this is you!" I screw up my face in a torsion of effort and concentration, lower jaw jutted forward, grunting like I'm pinching a big one.

"oh yeah? yeah? well, this is you!" he throws back his head and emits a string of wily chimp calls: ooh! ooh! ooh! ahh! ahh! ahh! ahh! ahhh! ahhhh!

***

"I'm very susceptible to ideas, did I mention that?"

"I could've deduced it, I think."

"Yeah? How?"

"Well, it's obvious--it's obvious that you desire to be overwhelmed. Taken over. In a swoon."

"What about you, are you susceptible to ideas, too? Is there something distinctive about me, or are you like that, too?"

"Um--what do you think?"

"I think you have your ideas pretty well laid out. You like to develop your ideas."

"Yeah, I was gonna say that. I do like to lay out my ideas, I like to...lay them, rather than be laid by them. I like to...engender."

"Oh my lord. Lordy b'gordy."

Saturday, September 10, 2005

frackowack gets a squid


here's a picture of Adam Frackowiak jumpkicking your sorry ass. adam is a friend of ours from high school--or rather, was a friend of ours in high school; I haven't seen him in years. Adam was tall, bespectacled, Polish--his parents were from Poland, so he was fully bilingual--and funny as a motherfucker. we called him Frackowack for short. he hung out with us till around the summer of 1996, when he started getting into Marilyn Manson, at which time he ditched the glasses, acquired a lipring and goth threads, dredded up his hair, and began to amass a squeeing group of female devotees. people had suddenly discovered how cool he was, and he didn't need us anymore (*sniff*).

during my senior year of high school, as a gag I took his freshman year picture--taken when he was still a dork--to one of those stands in the mall where they transfer images to mugs and t-shirts. I had the guy make me a shirt with Frackowack's yearbook picture on the front, and text underneath reading, Have You Seen Me? Missing Since 1995. I thought it was pretty funny, but the shirt seemed to make most people nervous since they assumed it was an earnest attempt to locate a missing kid. Frackowack himself liked the shirt since it featured him, but I'm not sure he really got it (which is probably just as well).

now that I've told you that, the following conversation between M and I will make more sense. immediately after having this conversation we pieced it back together on paper, cause even at the time it was happening we recognized that it was neato--one of those usually uncapturable experiences you sometimes have with someone where you both know you're grooving--and we planned to illustrate it or something. hasn't happened yet.

M: so when I was 16, and goin out with Jes, we went out one time to some Japanese restaurant, where I ordered squid. I ate one of em--they were tiny, some Japanese specialty--

NNN: where'd you go? Austin?

M: San Antonio.

NNN: Tokyo Steak House?

M: I don't know.

NNN: Tea Garden?

M: I don't KNOW! let me finish!

NNN: ok, ok.

M: anyway, I ate one of em and took the other one home, where I put it in a Ziplock bag in my room for like a week, and then took it as a present for Adam Frackowack. [as though talking to Frackowack] hey Adam, brought you something. brought you a bookmark. a pillow, a travel pillow. it's a condom, Adam, for your first night!

NNN: what'd he say? [imitating the Frack] aaaauugh! what the fuck!

M: something.

NNN: and then he kicked your ass.

M: then I kicked his ass.

[laughter]

NNN: remember the time you and Frack got into a mock fight down at the end of the hall, in the morning place?

M: I remember Mr. Stoore, the Research and Development teacher, coming out of his room and lining us up, me and Brent and...and...

NNN: Frack?

M: yeah.

NNN: I remember you guys smiling. and him pretending. giving you a mock lecture. I was there too, though, did you know that?

M: no, I don't remember it...

NNN: yeah, I was standing in front of the window with my eyebrow raised. like...like--look at me--like this.

M: [laughs] really? you were able to do that then?

NNN: yeah, man, always. since I was 11.

M: seems like you wouldn't have done that face then, though. seems like you would have been too depressed.

NNN: yeah, you're probably right. I would've just made a face like this, see? [makes straighline, deadpan face] but underneath I was raising my eyebrow.

M: yeah...and now it's finally coming out.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

it's a two for tuesday!

(text reads: "I was thinking about maybe not having a door. It'd be a slap in the face to all the paranoid...I don't know... George Bush worshippers." click for larger image.)

my first offering is another jack-ism (see the entry for September 4th). I'm not really sure what the context was here; I think maybe Jack just said this more or less randomly, as we were standing around waiting for tables or chopping lemons or doing our closing side work. whatever the case, I thought it was funny, and kinda profound--I mean, think of the anxiety it would cause if you didn't have a door, the anxiety that having a door ordinarily conceals--so I wrote it down.

***
for my second offering, two lines I thought would go great in a story that itself never materialized, two orphan lines jotted down on a napkin in bleeding pen:

who wants to steal anything out of a truck that has shitty fruit in it?

and

our kicking, dangling legs over the side of the porch--as though off a pier--silhouetted against the trees, shadows swinging eerily

Monday, September 05, 2005

pachelbel's canon

I'm writing this post as I take my qualifying exams for PhD candidacy, if you can believe that shee-yot. it's important to prioritize, no?

anyhoo, in the last couple of weeks M has been downloading versions of Pachelbel's Canon in D like a mofo. we probably have about 10 different arrangements. but he keeps on downloading more because, as he says, none of these arrangements is "the right one."

what is the right arrangement, you ask?

well, a couple of days ago he emails me. before I go on, I should preface my posting of his email here with a little context for our exchange. a couple of weeks ago I came across a reference to Pachelbel's Canon while studying for my exams. the book I was reading was about the politics of popular culture and made the argument that the distinction between high culture and low culture was neither fixed nor secure, as seen in the case of cultural forms that move up or down in status over time. for example, shakespeare used to be part of a shared, common culture but now is regarded as "high" (tho even this immediately has to be qualified--witness the film O, or that remake of Romeo and Juliet from a couple years back, the one with Claire Danes). likewise, the book went on, Pachelbel's Canon in D was once part of elite culture, the court culture of the aristocracy, but now has become the best selling piece of classical music of all time--has effectively become pop culture. I mentioned this to M, given his interest in the song, and a couple of days he emails me from work:

"You were telling me how it's pop culture...I just wanted toverify that by telling you a little story...

"When my sibs and I were growing up, my dad & mom were pretty excited about computers. For a long time we had Atari computers.Then at some point my mom got a Tandy. Then she got a Mac (we had both at the same time, at that point). Then she got a $400 eMachine, after the divorce. The rest is history. But anyways...

"Tandy kinda looks like a modern computer, and some of them had Windows on them. But they were made by Radio Shack, and some of them had their own proprietary OS on them. If I recall correctly, I believe this one had its own OS. But I digress...

"It had MIDIs on it, but the only one I remember,because I liked it, was Pachelbel's Canon.

"I'm sure I'd heard it before then, but that was the experience that made me like it. And I wish I could hear *that* version again. :P

"Unfortunately, I don't think we have the Tandy anymore. Though we still have the Ataris."

his email reminded me of a parallel experience of mine, so I wrote back:

"interesting: because when I was little, my folks (well, mostly my dad) were also into computers, and in 1984 my dad bought the apple IIc that we had until I graduated from high school.

"the computer came with several floppies--one with a word processing program on it, another with games on it, and a couple others that I don't remember but would be interested to see again (my folks still have the computer and its accoutrements up in the garage attic).

"when I was a kid the games floppy was my favorite for obvious reasons. it had a menu with different activities you could select. there was a space invaders type game and a game called lemonade stand, which was a text-based game that moved from day to day giving you the weather (if it was rainy it would play a little electronic snippet of "rain drops are fallin' on my head" and a different song if it was sunny, I don't know what because I didn't recognize it as a kid) and prompt you to key in how many glasses of lemonade you wanted to make that day and how much you wanted to charge for them. the object of the game was basically to balance supply and demand in order to stay in business and turn a profit--not to make too many glasses on rainy days or charge so much for them on sunny days that you lost money. so after it would give you the weather for a particular day (the game's calendar started June 1st) and you typed in how many glasses at what price, it would take you to a page that told you how many you had sold and how much you had made. pretty simple game, but I liked it.

"but the point of all of this is: another activity on the floppy that I remember wasn't a game at all. similar to your Tandy's Pachelbel, you could listen to a MIDI version of a Mozart song--I don't know the title, but if I heard it now I would recognize it. what was interesting was that if you selected the song option from the menu, the computer would take you to what was pretty much a blank screen except for the words "Now playing: Mozart's Symphony no. 4" (or whatever). and you would sit there and listen to it without doing anything else: your whole attention would be absorbed by the music playing functions of the computer in the same way that your whole attention is now absorbed by a word processing program.

"what's interesting to me about this now is the way that a technological limitation (computer can't carry out more than one complex function at a time) was not perceived as such, in fact was received as an amazing thing: wow, look at what the computer can do! it can play music! I distinctly remember this, remember my dad bringing the computer home in 1984 and setting it up and then my mom, dad, and I gathered around as the computer did its Mozart thing, and we were all amazed... whereas now music is just a background function of computers, what you do while you're doing something else. mundane.

"and yeah, I think, like you and Pachelbel, it was that early experience with MIDI mozart, plus Amadeus which came out the same year, that even today makes me think Mozart is pretty fucking catchy compared to other classical stuff, most of which leaves me cold."

so I'm posting our email exchange here because I thought it was neat. I love it when you experience shit you read about in theory. :)