ridiculous. awesome. ridiculously awesome.

These few ridiculous inclusions can make or save a song:

1) A choir.
2) Moderate to egregious use of cowbell.
3) Hand claps (syncopation optional).
4) Interludes / intros / outros involving elaborate whistling.
5) Gold hot pants.

And any combination of the above could lead to sheer madness. Or complete genius. Sometimes it's hard to tell between the two.

jukebox hero

a little blue grass never hurt anybody

Here's a little recording of Big Rock Candy Mountain. I was bored with Hells Kitchen, so I thought I'd commit my shoddy guitar work to mp3 using a sweet free version of Audacity.

I admit, I'm one of those bluegrass fans that only flocked to the genre after a viewing of O Brother, Where Art Thou. Though my 6th grade string repertoire included a toe-tapping version of Turkey In The Straw, and that should count for something.

I've noticed my yet-to-be-named guitar needs new strings.

Name options (thus far):
1. JT, in honor of Jeff Tweedy
2. Zooey, the disaffected Glass brother of Salinger's Franny and....
3. Dean, as in cool cats Dean Martin and James
4. Wallace, as in the clay-mation, cheese-loving Nick Park creation
5. KD or Pixie, for one of the coolest bands / most bad-ass lady rockers (Kim Deal) around

The guitar's a Seagull S6 Original, that I didn't mind paying retail for (you should support your small, locally owned music stores, if you can). While I *heart* many things, it's one of the things I *heart* most. And if you're reading this, you probably knew that already.

Naming suggestions are welcome.

PS Was there something other than Coke in Paula Abdul's cup tonight? She was entirely too amusing to be sober.

PSS Why does Hells Kitchen seem like sorority fraternity rush week? I'm anticipating an episode where Chef Ramsay brings out the paddle and has them bend over to say 'Thank you sir, may I have another?!'.

Top Chef is waaaaay better.

photo booths and conversations with dolan

This Friendly Fires song reminds me of something that would happen in a cheesy 80s movies.

Picture, you and me in the photo booth?
Ok!

-----

Below is a recent gchat I had with my favorite Brooklyner. I'm entertained by it. Perhaps you will be too:

9:59 PM
me: dooooooolllllllllllllllllaaaaaaannnnnn!
hi
L: shelley!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i'm a dreamy house?
me: of course you are

10:00 PM
L: or a house of dreams?
:P
me: ooh. you're so clever with words dolan
i like it
:)

*I can't argue with any of the conjectures offered in the above conversation, and in fact, only know them to be true.

I'll explain.

I taught the Messiah girls how to set up for the dump yesterday, and I expressed my thoughts on not going with Dolan's Method of Dumping to a friend. I said it was, perhaps, unwise to teach them to point at the sky and get it, as most people are not nearly so distractingly dreamy or house-like. Apparently these sentiments were relayed to The House of Dreams by a little bird.

the importance of being earnest

If I remember correctly, it's an Oscar Wilde play involving mistaken identities, the quest for love, and cucumber sandwiches. I'm certain of the cucumber sandwiches.

I enjoy music and movies that are earnest -- and earnest to the point of subversion. My flu-ridden weekend was filled with a highly suspect (but fun) decision to play ultimate in cold and windy weather (the only thing missing was the rain -- and thank goodness for that), and a Sunday filled with all things earnest: Multiple viewings of the movie / musical / extended music video, Once (!!!!) and Bon Iver's 'For Emma, Forever Ago' on repeat.

taste tests, viral nuisances, and intellectual cojones

I wish these cold / influenza viruses would leave me alone. Or at the very least, I wish they wouldn't consistently bother me on the weekends. The only viruses I like are the ones happily associated with the 16-bit fun-ness of Dr. Mario. And even then, I only like it when they disappear or dance like maniacs once the music creeps to that level of uber-fastness (meaning you need to flip faster!).

Downloaded a good bit of music the last few days. In rotation (with links to samples, for your taste-testing convenience): Thao, Shipwreck, The Mountain Goats, The Dodos, Bon Iver, Vampire Weekend.

I've been reading about Vampire Weekend -- blog posts, magazine articles, etc. When the name is brought up among hipster audiophiles there seems to be a collective, vomitous convulsion. Yes, they're over-hyped. Yes, they're a pretentious group of Ivy leaguers who like to show off their intellectual cojones during interview. Yes, they wore awful preppy sweaters on the cover of Spin magazine -- the ones that make you look like you should be pipe-smoking and shooting skeet with your grandpa.

For the record:

1) I have nothing against grandpas, or the sweaters they wear. In fact, I'm positive I own a sweater aptly fitting this description...but I've never been skeet shooting.

2) I'm not a big fan of pretentiousness.

3) Bands have very little control over their own hype. Hype is what other people make them out to be.

Music-wise -- not bad, despite a small laundry list of turn-offs outside the music arena, but not the golden boys of indie rock they're sometimes made out to be. Vampire Weekend is music you can turn on while you're prepping dinner ingredients and bounce around to, a la an 80s movie dance scene with Winona Rider, a young Christina Ricci, and a top-of-her-form Cher (Yea, I said top of her form). They make a decent pop song, but to save the spine of your recently purchased, glossy music magazine, I'd simply stay away from reading the interviews.

As for the rest of the bunch, with the exception of Shipwreck favoring electric, the downloads have been acoustic deliciousness. Give 'em a shot, if you get the chance.

bottle up the sauce

Take that flu!
Take that, and like it!

Up and at it. And feeling 100%, mostly.

Came back from vacation to a weekend virus and a disparaging letter. You tell yourself that things'll be alright, but sometimes it feels good to hear someone else tell you:

The Great Escape / Patrick Watson

Chords don't disappoint....

coffee and volume 14

Before I forget, I would like to thank coffee and volume 14 for keeping me awake on late night drives. You, my wonderful and faithful readers (all two of you!), should probably thank them too, as they are your unassuming saviors from a 2 am phone call. Time zones and delayed, homeward bound flights will really mess with your sleeping schedule.

A. Coffee-drinking (The Midnight Oil)

Some might find the vice diabolical. But it's certainly not so diabolical as circus peanuts, especially when coffee's trusty sidekicks are 3 packets of Sugar in the Raw and delightful doses of cream.

B. Volume 14 (Eardrums? There You Are!)

Even Captain & Tennille sound better at this setting:

1. When Bon Jovi tells you to hold on to what you've got, you HOLD ON.
2. When Kanye tells you to dig for gold, you DIG (or find it in an abandoned mine shaft in the Californian desert).
3. When Colby asks you to count her in, you COUNT HER IN.
4. When Gwen goes bananas, you spell it B-A-N-A-N-A-S.
5. When Jukebox the Ghost wants you to hold it in, you HOLD IT IN.

(etc etc)

And so, I find myself back from J Tree safe and sound, thanks to these things.

Days were spent frolicking in the desert -- meeting trees named Joshua, rabbits named Jack, and cacti shaped liked teddy bears. Nights were welcomed with homeade dinners and conversations with old friends -- ones that know me better than most, and who still seem to like me in spite of it.

Comfortable nostalgia and new memories.
The best of times were had.

For those that care to ask, I will storytell until you're part of the 'in' crowd, but the happenings were numerous, and I fear I may not do them justice. I won't b(l)og you down with my verbosity now, but perhaps a handful of things that happened at JTNP will pop up from time to time in later posts.

To the person who left me the amusing voice mail about one-way streets, I respond with this Shelley-ism, in two-part list form:

1. I don't know what you're talking about.

And....

2. If I did, it's the only way to fittingly celebrate St. Patrick's Day Eve, a celebratory night that's often overlooked for the day of.

Away now, caffeine!

Off to count sheep (bah bah bah)....

The OMF