Month: March 2007

who's at verizon? the who, that's who

who's at verizon? the who, that's who

today’s my birthday (i’ll save that for another post). for my birthday, my husband got me gorgeous earrings and tix to see the who at verizon, which we dutifully attended last night. we had amazing seats, just to the side of the stage. would that they weren’t near a person with incredibly pungent B.O. as well as a gentleman who thought that if he kept his cigarette low that no one would notice the smoke (didn’t he learn anything from his days hiding from his parents in the bathroom with smokes? room spray doesn’t mask anything, dear. smoke is smoke.) but i digress. after all, i should be able to critique a show like my dear cousin, a former rock critic for the NY Times and peer of folks like Lester Bangs and Liliane Roxon, did. here goes.

i love the who. i have seen them when three of them were still around (performing quadrophenia, no less); i felt it my civic duty to see them while two of them were still kicking. (we’ve also seen roger daltrey sing with an orchestra at wolftrap. that moment probably inspired rod stewart to embark on the most recent part of his career. oh rod the mod, why, why, WHY?) anyway, they’ve a new LP they’re promoting, endless wire, the first album they’ve done in 24 years.

first of all, i *heart* zak starkey. there aren’t a lot of people who could take on keith moon in the drumming department (well, i suppose there are in the zany antics, car-driven-in-the-pool department). yet he doesn’t imitate moon. he really puts his own stamp on things. additionally, starkey truly controls the stage. (he probably learned to do that thanks to his gig with oasis. the gallagher brothers probably need a leash.)

i had an epiphany while watching him: the who is missing their drummer and bass player; the only remaining beatles are a bass player and a drummer. they ought to get together and make one insane band. then, i thought to meself: gee, maybe we could just let zak stand in for his dad — he’s a waaay better drummer. (and i adore ringo starr; i am merely talking about his technical ability, or lack thereof.)

anyway, the one HUGE irritant of the show: could somebody PLEASE make sure the keyboards are in tune with the rest of the band? i was nearly ready to brain myself — the keyboards in baba o’reilly, won’t get fooled again, etc — totally out of tune. and what was up with roger and his harmonica? it was like he was playing in a different key. you know, people are supposed to do more in a soundcheck besides talking to the dipshit teenager sitting in the front, guys.

most people groan when they have to listen to the new material from an artist’s album. i look at it as an opportunity to “try before you buy,” so to speak. so i was interested in hearing what they’d play. pete townshend, a man i have forgiven since he created the broadway musical tommy (which i thought was the worst, most disney-fied musical i ever saw, and i’ve seen some pretty awful ones) said that they waited to bring this album to us, the audience, for 24 years because it should have “it”. (whatever that means.) to be very honest, the material from wire and glass wasn’t bad; but it did sound like recycled musical motifs from other who works. i’ll have to give it another listen, but i figured, shit — after 24 years, THIS is what you pull out? i know pete townshend can write songs in his sleep (which he also noted on stage), but can he wake up and write some original stuff, as he has done on many of his excellent solo works? sheesh.

speaking of tommy, the highlight of the show, in my book, was the tommy medley of sorts. sure, they always pull out see me feel me/listening to you, but how often do you get to hear amazing journey and sparks live? it was thrilling, except for the out of tune instruments. yes, i am screaming for those of you who wondered.

you better you bet is a sentimental favorite of mine (when we were first married, i used to quote that when BS said he loves me i said “you better!” yeah. we’re america’s sweethearts, all right.) of course, you can tell two people are married for a long time when they both state the same thing simultaneously, and this moment was no different. roger was croaking the line:

but my body feels so good and i still sing a razor line everytime.

at the same time, right during the pause, BS and i screamed “no you don’t!” yep, statler and waldorf are alive and well and living in arlington. poor roger. he’s 60-something years old, and his voice simply doesn’t have the range it used to — and a lot of the who classics require an incredibly muscular voice. i wonder if zak can sing? (G-d help us all if he sings like his dad.)

anyway, it was fun to see the who. the assembly looked more like an AARP convention, but i guess that’s what happens when a band is around for over 40 years. still, i’d see them again if they’d bother to tune properly. cos who knows — there’s always the chance that pete might whack that whammy bar.

dear john mayer:

dear john mayer:

dear john,

writing to you this way reminds me a little bit of the modern-day version of judy garland gazing in a mirror and singing dear mr. gable to clark, though admittedly, you’d never mistake me for one of your gushy fans. for one thing, i’m old enough to be your, er, former babysitter. and, while it doesn’t bother me, in fact, i’m not as much a fan of your music as i am of the funny and warm persona in your blog. i mean, come on: your body is a wonderland will be a punch line that may follow you for years to come.

but i digress. anyway, i write because i can tell from your blog you’re a decent bloke, the kind of guy who’d come and sit on my porch with some good microbrews and debate who did the best cover of little wing (which i must tell you is probably a toss-up between clapton and stevie ray vaughan‘s version, even though they played sting’s sappy version at my wedding because it seemed to fit better. no offense, of course. i hear you covered it, too. ) you seem to be a mellow, funny guy who takes criticism decently.

so here goes. it’s about your song: waiting for the world to change. it’s got a decent groove and grows on one. but here’s my complaint: why the fuck are you waiting for the world to change? why aren’t you doing something to actually make the world change? it’s like a gen-x anthem — let’s just be bummed because the world sucks. one day, maybe someone will do something. in the meantime, i’ll just sit here with my latte and watch it all unfold. if you were trying to channel marvin gaye, you would have done a whole lot better just covering makes me wanna holler (inner city blues), even though you probably don’t have his particular street cred under your belt. still. marvin got pissed. he inspired people to act. he used this opportunity to reach people, to piss them off, to mobilize them. he didn’t encourage them that change is someone else’s gig.

just something to think about the next time you jump into music with a slightly heavier content.

as the queen of non sequitors, i would love to see you cover big star’s thirteen. but, as usual, i digress.

anyway, keep blogging. at this rate, i may even get an album. (see, i really AM old 😉

yours truly,

wrekehavoc

p.s. if you’re ever in our neck of the woods, stop by for a beer.

my hero

my hero

in case anyone ever wonders why i can’t lapse too long into self-pity, it’s because of this little dude. mason is the son of my friend danielle, and he is one of the toughest people i have ever met. to be 4 and to have been battling brain cancer for a long time, well, i can’t even begin to say i would handle it well. but mason is a cool little dude. i’m so excited to see his peach fuzz hair and lashes growing in. he has an MRI tomorrow. i know i’m throwing him in my prayers tonight. i hope everyone else sends good vibes or prayers out there for him as well.

the bitch is back

the bitch is back

i remember when i was a smug singleton… even a smug, married, non-parent, i’d add. i would look at people who had children in upscale restaurants and wonder why these noisy little screamers were ruining my meal. i vowed that when i had children, i would not take them to restaurants until they were good and ready to go. and i sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin anyone’s upscale dinner unless i knew for certain that my kids would behave. i was as good as my word, and i still get bent when i see parents bringing kids to really nice restaurants who are not ready to behave in said places. i figure, shoot, i did my time for society and ate at lots of places with kiddy menus; why can’t they make the short-term sacrifice, too?

fast forward to today.

we had a yummy dinner at nam viet, one of the last surviving vietnamese restaurants in the area formerly known as little hanoi tonight. as we walked in (my kids actually behaving perfectly for once), i saw a late 20-early 30-something woman and man grimace as we were seated next to their table. i then overheard the woman say to the waiter, “you probably should move us, as i don’t think they are going to move.” needless to say, i didn’t like what i heard. it isn’t like my kids came in screaming or shouting, running amok and sticking chopsticks up their snoots. they were behaving better than a lot of adults i know. so of course, i did what any jersey-girl mother would do. i hissed.

i looked right at the lady, and i said, “i hope your uterus dries up.”

around these parts, i am known as a class act.

push the button

push the button

oh, to be a world citizen and enjoy the mayhem that is eurovision, the contest bemoaned by my beloved helsinki complaints choir. but i’m american, and like most americans, i have no bloody clue about this american idol-istic contest among a zillion nations for best song. now, mind you, i also have no idea why it inspires such fervor. maybe it started in france. maybe jerry lewis has something to do with it. i really don’t know.

but i’m astonished about the hubbub surrounding the israeli entry by a band called teapacks. it seems that the eurovision likes their songs with a side of milquetoast, please:

Eurovision is threatening to ban Israel’s entry for its annual song contest in because of its “inappropriate” political message. “Push the Button”, the song from one of Israel’s most experienced and popular bands, Teapacks, has lyrics that go to the heart of the country’s most prevalent security fears, but in tones tinged with irony. The words of the song – in English, French and Hebrew, – have already been interpreted as addressing fears of a strike by Iran as well as attacks by Palestinian militants. In one verse the band sing: “The world is full of terror/ If someone makes an error/ He’s gonna blow us up to biddy biddy kingdom come/ There are some crazy rulers they hide and try to fool us/ With demonic, technologic willingness to harm.”

Kjell Ekholm, an organiser of the contest, said: “It’s absolutely clear that this kind of message is not appropriate for the competition.” But the threat may say as much about Eurovision’s dogged preference for the bland at all costs as about the song itself.

duh. i think abba won for waterloo back in the day. i guess political content is not permitted, although apparently plenty of people in israel are afraid of iran blowing them to biddy biddy kingdom come, as the lyrics say; and if i were one of them, i would be, too. it’s not like the person in charge of iran hasn’t threatened to basically obliterate israel, and they apparently have some sort of nuclear program in development.

i wonder what iran’s entry will be. oh wait, i bet secular music isn’t permitted there.

preliminary verdict

preliminary verdict

i heard from my doctor in philly yesterday. she can’t say definitively yet — she wants to wait for my post-test, and she also wants to consult with some colleagues — but the signs are pointing toward treatment. apparently, my sinus scan showed i am quite the veteran with sinusitis (i wonder how they can tell that!), and only 3 out of 14 pneumococcal IGG Types were in the protective range (they usually hope for 7 or 8). my chest scan showed little thingies (yes, a medical term) lymph nodes, but as they are smaller than (i think she said) 4 cm, they aren’t considered significant. people with CVID usually show definite signs of never-ending sinusitis and/or some broncheo-something. (basically, lots of bronchial issues/pneumonia/that sort of thing. sorry. my brother could probably speak about this in more intelligent terms since he is both a doctor and a person with CVID.) i have been congested so long in my life, i don’t even realize i have sinus issues. so it looks like i’ll be hooked up to an IV every 4 weeks for the “foreseeable future” (which must be the euphemism doctors use instead of saying “for the rest of your life.”)

it sucks, but there’s a treatment, so it’s not as bad as something without a treatment. i’m not thrilled with the treatment, as it is expensive, has some risks, and is not the sort of thing i want to have to do every 4 weeks. but you gotta do what you gotta do, and i’m thankful i have health insurance and the ability to get treatment, as there are probably zillions of people who aren’t as fortunate.

still, i’m bummed.

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