Noise

Signature Models

I’ve been receiving mail order musician supply catalogs for something like 25 years now, so I am usually familiar with what the big guitar companies are putting out. I’ve seen some real doozies over the years, but one thing I am always interested in is the signature model guitars. Sure, there have always been Clapton and Eddie Van Halen models. And in recent years, there are usually a handful of offerings right after a surprise Grammys win, but others kind of surprise me.

It used to be a somewhat rare honor, though. at least, that’s how it seemed to me. Like the Stevie Ray Vaughn model, after his tragic accident, it was a pretty special instrument. But now, it seems to be just another gimmick, at least some of the time.

Like, I adore Rancid, but a Fender acoustic Tim Armstrong model seems a little forced. And when I see an Ace Frehley Gibson I can’t help but wonder if it comes with best makeup remover recommendations. And while the death of Dimebag Darrell was certainly a tragedy, I have to believe he holds some kind of record for the most posthumous signature models because there are dozens and dozens of Dimebag models.

Noise

Greats of the 90s

Did you ever listen to Belly? Oh man, what a fantastic band. I have a totally huge crush on Tanya Donnelly. I bet she is aging so hot. They were such a great group, though. Seriously. With connections to The Throwing Muses and The Breeders among others, how could you not adore them!

While the grunge stars were worrying about Blood tests in Seattle, Belly was rocking out with those New England roots. So good.

It should be clear to know what’s in my playlist today.

Life

Faulty Wiring

A friend recently relocated his retail business. He was more or less pushed into an empty space in a neighboring facility by his landlord so they could rent his former space to the next door tenanct who wanted to expand. So, they caused him the headaches and expense of moving with no real personal advantages.

Already we hate these landlords, right? As well we should. But it gets worse. When he moved into the new space, he found out that there were all sorts of wiring problems, with the phones in particular. The former tenant had a specialized business with specialized needs and had done some wacky stuff. Since it is all inside the building, the phone company won’t help without a miliion dollar service call that will result in lots of wasted time. Sure, all the panduit raceway that is sure to result will probably be cool and all that, but shouldn’t the responsibility fall on the landlord? After all, they said it was ready to move in. How can they just lay it at the tenant’s feet.

Life

3 wheelers

Here’s another complaint that will make me sound like a total jerk, but, well, what can I do? I’ve never really understood the three wheel strollers. I get the whole baby jogger thing, and I actually did see it happen once. I mean, a mother jogging and pushing a stroller.

Most recently, though, I’ve noticed a lot of, ahem, larger couples with three wheel strollers. Now, at the risk of sounding judgemental, let me put it out there. These people ain’t jogging. No way, no how. So why the pretense? Unless there was a big sale or something, like 25% fewer wheels, 25% lower price, I don’t know why you would opt for the 3 wheel death machine.

Maybe it’s just me.

But at least half of the other times I’ve seen a three wheel stroller, it has been tipped over. Granted, it is usually tipped by overzealous older siblings, but it happens. I mean, it’s basic physics right? It’s a less stable foundation, and when you have bouncy toddlers. Well, it all goes to hell pretty quick.

Booze

Hillbillies

I hate to go back to the Whites, but that documentary really did irritate me. I feel like I should have a term insurance without medical exam joke here, especially with all of the time they spend in the Emergency Room, but of course, they don’t even think about stuff like that.

And there I go again, being an elitist. I know. such an awful character I am. Dangblast it.

Life

Bike Tires

Specifically, motorcycle tires. Okay, I know this is a strange aside, but I have always wondered why the tires you see on bad ass custom motorcycles on TV shows always have those mostly smooth, very rounded tires with slash marks for treads. They just seem so far away from automobile tires. Sure, scream Conti Road Attack 2 with joy, but all I can see is road rash. Horrible, horrible road rash. Isn’t grip, like, the point of treads. When your tires look like sideways inner tubes, aren’t you risking your neck, like, big time?

Maybe it’s just me. Clearly I’m a lot more comfortable on 4 wheels than 2, but I can’t help but wonder.

Life

Size Matters?

Speaking of camping and tents, I’m a smaller tent guy. I mean, not the totally tiny backpack models because I still need to be in the thing with my kids. But a 4 person model with a 9 by 7 footprint or so is totally fine for me. And now, like I mentioned earlier, I have two. I see some families with mega-tents that have “rooms” (separated with a sliver of nylon fabric) and can sleep an entire baseball team with coaching staff. But the fighting and yelling I hear, and all the stress created in setting up such monster tents totally rules it out for me. I mean, if you need power tools and welding equipment to set up your tent I think you might be doing something wrong.

I’d rather just point the doors of my two small tents at each other and call it a day.

Life

Lotsa Camping

Yup. We’re going to be doing lots of camping this summer. We already had a chilly Cub Scouts overnighter in early May, and there are many more to come. The Parent/Cub weekend is coming up. While I was a little hesitant in the beginning, I have come to really enjoy this two night event. And this year will be the first with both boys.

Boy howdy.

Indeed.

I even bought another tent in anticipation. We’re still pretty low-fi, so we have basic 4 person tent models. Maybe when the older one hits Boy Socuts we’ll start looking at the heavy duty gear like Nemo Tents, but for now, the basics will do.

Booze

Worthy Subjects

Okay, so if the Whites are unworthy of documentary coverage by my reckoning, who should we be looking at? Turn to the work of Errol Morris. Vernon, Florida is a favorite. In this and other documentaries, he certainly outs some bizarre folks with beyond interesting outlooks and/or demeanor. But while we can marvel and even chuckle at their eccentricities, we are not celebrating their anti-social and downright criminal behavior. We are, instead, enjoying their quirks and coming away with a sympathetic understanding of their eccentricities.

No, I’m not advocating pointing fingers at people who are a little different and laughing at them. But by the same token, I have no intention of elevating the awful behavior of outlaws and human pharmaceutical fementers in a pathetic and self-indulgent pretense of folk hero worship. Seriously.

PS Blog

Whites

One documentary that drove me crazy was the one about the White family in West Virginia. They are basically a family of hoodlums, criminals and junkies that terrorize their county with nonsense. While the documentary (whose producers included Johnny Knoxville of Jackass fame) occasionally tries to humanize these awful people, it is far more interested in catching them in ironic contradictions.

Like the new mother who just snorted a crushed Oxycontin pill off the nightstand in the hospital room while her newborn sleeps 10 feet away. In the next scene she is chain-smoking, being driven home after her baby was taken away by child services, crying about someone “strange” holding her child.

Yeah, we get the joke. The filmmakers are laughing at the hillbillies who are too stupid to realize they’re being mocked. It almost makes them seem more sympathetic. And that is just one of the film’s failures.

In the proud redneck wilderness inhabited by these freaks, a dna paternity test is beyond necessary each time one of these delightful ladies gets pregnant, half the time to figure out which distant cousin is responsible.

Right, I know I sound like some Northeastern elitist, but I feel a little entitled. If filmmakers are going to glorify the horrible actions of brutish slobs and continue to foster a culture of personality and false reality, I think I should get on the proverbial high horse and complain.