Reflections on a Year in Bass
I’m coming up on a year playing bass for the Super Devils, a rockabilly outfit located in South Jersey. While my last post expressed significant ennui and dissatisfaction with the fact that life’s been in a holding pattern, my bass playing is probably the one area where i’ve made a LOT of progress, and very quick progress at that.
Frankly, after a few weeks of playing with those guys, i wasn’t sure i’d make it. that’s because my hand/wrist technique for slap was predicated thoroughly on adding accent to bluegrass songs. or to put it in layman’s terms, most bluegrass slapping is about accentuating the end of a line or a transition to a solo or chorus. You can hear what i mean in this clip of the Bluegrass Brothers:
The slap is on the upbeat, and it’s not sustained very long: just a few bappita-bappitas and you’re back to plucking.
With rockabilly, you’re slapping the whole time, so that slightly stiff hand posture I’ve used in bluegrass to good effect just hasn’t fit the bill. In fact, if it wasn’t for an impromptu lesson from another slap bass player, I probably would have said “the Hell with it” and moved on.
But I stuck with the new technique, and now i can do things on my bass i never thought possible. Stuff like this guy does:
Hi, I’m from the Government, and I’m Here to Ruin Your Credit Score and Help You Lose Your House
At the time we applied for the [US government-administered HAMP] modification process, we had paid back up to being about three months behind on the mortgage. We got put almost immediately in a temporary program while our paperwork was being processed. While we were waiting for things to be processed, we did get an occasional automated call about falling behind, but when we called back, we were assured that things were OK, and this was basically just a formality.
[...]
Around the 3rd week of April, we got a letter from Wells Fargo saying that the modification hadn’t been approved. I forget the exact wording, but the reasoning amounted to not having proved to their satisfaction that she had actually been laid off of her previous job.And oh yeah, they wanted the six thousand in back mortgage payments that we owed them in the next 30 days, unless we wanted to sign up for an in-house modification, which would enable us to pay off the loan in 6 payments, on top of the regular payments that we were going to have to make.
Simply awful.
Why I Haven’t Been Blogging As Much Lately
I want to take a brief moment to explain why this blog has been relatively listless lately, because i feel as if I’m letting some of you down with my lack of postings.
I articulated it fairly well in this post:
I’m just tired of everything. I’m tired of writing, tired of being broke, tired of working, tired of owning a house, tired of being a parent, tired of people, almost (but not quite) tired of music and definitely tired of playing music in Philadelphia, tired of not touring, tired of politics, tired to death of grants, tired of the East Coast and the US in general.
I’m at a point in my life where i simply don’t have any interest in engaging the stupid in debates about why they’re stupid. Oh, I get myself suckered in once in awhile, but I’m not interested in navigating the web of lies that right-wingers surround themselves with to prevent serious debate. These people are idiots, and utterly incapable of absorbing anything that challenges their worldview. why bother?
why bother, for that matter, writing about politics when you’re in the grip of an entrenched two-party duopoly who’s political message is “vote for us no matter what stupid shit we do because we’re not that other awful party.” It gets boring, ya know, to defend people who make promises they never intend to keep.
My life continues to be in a holding pattern: I was accepted to Drexel University to earn my teaching certificate, but declined due to the expense. I’m in the process of applying to Temple for Fall 2011, because it’s a LOT cheaper. At the same time, I really want to get into brewing professionally, but need to figure out the way forward.
So yeah, basically not a lot to write about right now. Wake me up when the world regains a semblance of sanity.
WNJN: Worthless Radio
Due to all the driving necessary to pick up and drop off Sam, to get to practice, and to get to gigs, i drive a lot more than i’d like to. because so many of these trips are long distance, I’ve acquired a strong taste for traffic and weather reports: I wish every state and highway would post the best stations for these resources at rest areas throughout the country.
Anyway, some stations do a better job at getting the information across effectively, while others do not. For example, KYW 106-0 in Philadelphia and WCBS 880 in New York City are reliable, easy-to-use stations. Philly broadcasts traffic “on the twos”: 1:02, 1:12, 1:22, and so on. WCBS reports road conditions “on the eights”. This schedule makes it possible to tune in for the news you want and need, and filling the spaces in between with music or programming of your own choice. I listen to KYW religiously in Philadelphia for this reason, and always tune into 880 when I’m driving into or around New York City.
New Jersey has its own traffic and weather station too: 101.5 WNJN. By all measures, the station is exactly what you’d expect of New Jersey: awful. First of all, the programming that’s not weather and traffic is piss-poor: the music selection is “classic rock”, which means buckets of “Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog”, “Stayin’ Alive”, and “hits” by Springsteen and Bon Jovi, while the talk show programs boil down to “deliberately stupid and offensive right wing garbage by Casey Bartholomew” (recent topic: “have you, as a white person, ever experienced racism from black people?”) and “let’s wreck a marriage” by Michelle Jerson, who won’t be satisfied until the divorce rate in NJ is 100%.
And all of this would be fine, except the traffic reports are not tied to any particular time you can remember. They air every 15 minutes, so you would figure “traffic on the quarter hour at 1:00, 1:15, 1:30, etc.” But no. It’s more like “traffic at 1:03, 1:18, 1:33…” The end result is that it’s difficult to predict when the traffic report’s coming on, and so you end up sitting through Juice Newton sing “Morning Angel” followed by Batholomew hating on teachers while you wait impatiently to find out if you should take I-295 or the Jersey Turnpike.
It’s maddening and almost certainly a deliberate policy to force more people to listen to their shitty station. It’s the only one that covers the entire state, and by god, you’re gonna sit there and listen to casey bartholomew insist that white Americans are being victimized by black people when all you want is to know whether the 42 freeway’s backed up.
Philly Weekly Sinks to a New Low
Two weeks ago, the Philadelphia Weekly published a poignant and compelling story about women trying to escape prostitution.
This week, they published an article about which Chinatown brothels offer the best handjobs. I’m not linking to the article because I think it was exploitative, disgusting and was less a news and opinion column than it was an advertorial, like those Exxon-Mobil ads that appear in the print edition of the New York Times. One of the commenters at the Weekly’s latest low opined, “This is really gross. Congratulations on paying for sex from a most likely trafficked woman”, and I have to concur: sex slavery is an ,a href=”http://www.philly.com/philly/news/20100331_Massage_madam_s_Swan_song_.html”>ongoing problem in Philadelphia. It’s something to be ashamed of, not something to celebrate and enable.
I’m not a prude, and have no problem with the world’s oldest profession, which should almost certainly be legalized and regulated for the safety of the sex workers. I’m also fully aware of the financial problems facing the newspaper industry, especially the free alternative weeklies, and have no problem with the ads for brothels, prostitutes, chicks-with-dicks, and other assorted novelties in the back of the paper. And I understand that a column like Lush Life, which is typically about partying and getting drunk, is expected to be edgy.
But this is beyond the pale. The column rejoiced in, and normalized, the exploitation of women. That’s disgusting, and I’m embarrassed to have been associated with the paper.
Harry Reid Throws Stones from his Glass House
Harry Reid is breaking with the President, claiming that while he respects freedom of religion, he’s not willing to support an Islamic center near Ground Zero.
Specifically, says Reid spokesman Jim Manley, he thinks the “mosque” should be built “some place else”:
The First Amendment protects freedom of religion. Senator Reid respects that but thinks that the mosque should be built some place else. If the Republicans are being sincere, they would help us pass this long overdue bill to help the first responders whose health and livelihoods have been devastated because of their bravery on 911, rather than continuing to block this much-needed legislation.
You know what’s coming, right?
Ring…riiiiiiiiiing
“Hello, Senator Harry Reid’s office.”
“Hi my name is Brendan Skwire, calling from Philadelphia PA. I ordinarily wouldn’t call a senator from outside my state, but Senator Reid is the majority leader who represents all Democrats, and also he has waded into another state’s politics, so I would like to leave a comment you can pass on. Is that OK?”
“Sure, no problem,” said the young woman on the other end of the phone.
“OK,” I began. “I saw Senator Reid’s comments about respecting the First amendment but building the so-called “Ground Zero” mosque/ community center someplace else.
“Now look, I can fully understand how the Muslim religion might make certain types of Americans uncomfortable. I mean, it’s different from Judaism and Christianity (and by the way, half of my family is Jewish). But you know, the First Amendment says you have to get over that discomfort.
And furthermore, Harry Reid isn’t exactly standing on solid ground when he says stuff like that. Senator Reid’s a Mormon, correct?”
“Yes, that’s true,” the staffer answered.
“Well, right now the Mormon church wants to build a new temple in downtown Philadelphia, and I would bet there are a lot of people who get just as uncomfortable about Mormons setting up shop in their community as do the xenophobes in New York. That includes me: I am deeply distrustful of this so-called religion. Many mainstream Christians believe Mormonism is a cult. I mean, let’s face it: like Islam, Mormonism embraced polygamy before rejecting it , and even then it was only because the federal government was confiscating their property. Even today, there is no small number of Mormons who continue the practice in Utah and other southwestern states. Are you writing this down? Because I want you to pass this all along.”
“Um…”
“Furthermore,” I went on, “the presence of such a temple in Philadelphia will cause deep offense to the black people who are a near majority in this city. After all, this is the same “religion” that claimed for decades that black people are cursed. I don’t think they dropped that belief until sometime in the late 1970s. And then there are their proscriptions on alcohol and caffeine: everyone’s seen how the Mormon church has taken over the government of Utah. I don’t think that Philly, known as America’s best beer-drinking city needs that kind of influence here. Not after Prohibition destroyed the brewing industry less than 100 years ago.”
“Philly’s also very gay-friendly,” I added. “Senator Reid’s chosen “religion”, I went on emphasizing the air-quotes, “if you can call it that, is not. That temple’s a bad fit, and a reminder of bad times for a LOT of people. And that’s not even getting into bizarre beliefs like the angel Moroni…” (which I pronounced as “moron” with a long I at the end) “… or the magical undergarments…”
“Sir, what’s your point?”
“Well, my point is this: given that Senator Reid has rewarded xenophobes and waded into New York City’s politics, I want to know if he’s going to make similar statements opposing the Philadelphia temple. After all, it’s the same situation: a strange religion with all sorts of unsavory overtones, with a history of oppressing people, especially women. So, do you know if he plans to release a statement?”
“As far as I know, sir, there are no plans to–”
“Well, would you please read back my comments, because I want to make sure he receives them.”
“Sir, we don’t take comments verbatim,” she said, kind of smugly.
“So wait… Harry Reid’s gonna stand there in his glass house?”
“Sir, as i said, we don’t take comments verbatim. And I have another call.” And then she hung up.
I thought that was sort of rude, so I called his Reno office and made the same presentation. This time the young man who listened told me that not only would he make sure the Senator received my comments, he appreciated that I cared enough about the issue to call, which was nice to hear.
People like Harry Reid, who belongs to on weird-ass religious cult, should not be throwing stones at other religions that make a certain group of people known as “closed minded bigots” uncomfortable.
Why I Left You that Shitty Tip
Dear Waitress at the Dock Street Brewery:
You may remember me: I came in a little before 7:30 on last week with my 6-year old son to order a pizza. By the time we got our pie, it was nearly 9:00 PM, and as a result I left you a tip that was less than 10%. I’d like to explain why.
I got my first job at the age of 13, washing dishes in a restaurant. Over the next 15 years, I worked my way up through the ranks of prep cook to garde manger to line cook. I’ve worked in closed kitchens and open kitchens, and although I’ve never been a server, I’ve done enough front end work in restaurants that I understand how difficult your job can be.
And make no mistake, being a server is hard work: you’re on your feet the whole time, you have to have a smile on your face no matter what, the tray of food is heavy, and the floor can often be an obstacle course complicated by little children underfoot. On top of that, your efforts to provide good service may be undermined by circumstances beyond your control in the kitchen.
Honestly, I don’t know whether the shitty service we received was your fault or the kitchen’s fault: that’s because you never bothered to come by our table and explain why our food was delayed.
When people go to restaurants, they expect to be taken care of. Not the TGI Fridays “May I Annoy the Living Shit Out Of You” model, but unobtrusively and consistently, asking if we need refills or (more pertinently to this post) informing the customer of anything that might delay his or her meal.
If you had made the slightest effort to communicate with me, just dropping by and saying “the oven went cold and the pizza is taking longer than it should”, you would have gotten my standard 20% tip, because I would have felt taken care of. Maybe even more, because I like to reward good service. That would have been especially true if you’d said something like “can i get you guys some bread or something to tide you over?” Rightly or wrongly, i blamed YOU for the shitty service: had you dropped by the table, you might have been able to lay the blame on the cook, who doesn’t depend on gratuities to pay the rent.
That is not what you did. You acted like our table didn’t exist. You did the same thing to the much larger party sitting next to us That’s why, after Sam and I came in at 7:30 and got served at close to 9:00, you managed to get a dollar on a $20.00 ticket.
You shouldn’t need your customer to explain the basics of customer service when it’s the core function of your job.
Sincerely
Brendan Skwire
disgruntled customer
I’m Still Alive
Isn’t this the fucking shittiest, most pompous, self-absorbed music you’ve ever heard?
Holy fuck, I ALWAYS loathed Pearl Jam, and every other band of their ilk. I give Nirvana props, but mainly because Kurt Cobain had some degree of shame and blew his brains out for what happened next. The only goddamn band that came out of Seattle worth my time is Mudhoney, and I don’t give a rat’s ass if your mileage may vary.
So why did I put up this horrible, shitty, derivative, boring, over-testosteroned, whiny, contrived shit on my precious wonderful blog?
I dunno. Mainly to let you all know that I’m not dead, and that I’m still something of a punk-ass loudmouth, and that when I’m not so busy with other shit I’ll gt back to blogging.
Also:
I’ve been busy. talk to y’all soon, and sorry for the Pearl Jam. I hope it didn’t get stuck in your head, even though I know it did.
This is What Happens When You’re a 40 Year Old Virgin
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the Daily News’ Star Conservative Columnist as a warning: this is what happens when you’re a forty-something year old virgin:
I’M IN LOVE with Chris Christie.
It’s platonic, especially since he’s married with kids. But every time I see his chubby face, I realize how disappointed I am in the choices we on the other side of Camden face in the fall: Tom Corbett (BO-ring) or Dan Onorato (ANNOY-ing.)Neither of our gubernatorial candidates can hold a candle to Christie in terms of charisma, attitude and who-gives-a-damn-what-the-media-thinks bravado.
Chris Christie and charisma go together like chocolate sauce on a szechuan pork
Christie is the genuine article, and Jersey is lucky to have him. Which I suppose makes up for having to deal with Snooki.
Apparently, watching “Jersey Shore” is mandatory: you are not allowed to change the channel.
Like Madonna and Cher before her, the roly-poly Italian midget with the patent-leather hair goes only by the bastardization of her first name. Her father said she got the monikette in grade school, where she was the first girl to kiss a boy (which leads me to wonder what other “firsts” she accomplished before making her “first” Holy Communion.
Girls who kiss boys in elementary school are whores.
The surprise star of the reality show “Jersey Shore” is so greasy and unpleasant, you’d think she was somehow connected to the BP spill had she not made her initial appearance a full year before the Gulf disaster. Not that she’s any different from the rest of the cast. They all look like what you’d get if your in vitro was contaminated by mold.
But, for some reason, Snooki has become the breakout star, using her impressive cleavage and toe-curling accent to seduce a nation tired of pampered “Gossip Girl” blondes. By representing the exact antithesis of class, taste and threshold-level hygiene, Snooki has become the Slutty Sacajawea of Smut, guiding us over the cliff and into the Valley of Really Bad Taste.
To her credit, Snooki’s needs are relatively few. On the final episode of the first season, she pranced down the boardwalk, flounced on the beach, and sashayed around her condo, looking for love. Or, as she called it, a “date.” When no one was willing to give her a spin, not even an old boyfriend who wanted neither the milk nor the cow, she whimpered. Shortly thereafter, she ended up in a hot tub with a guy she considered to be just like her brother.
I am fascinated by Snooki, who I think is America’s sweetheart as well as a pornography star (I guess I haven’t watched much porn lately, since I think Snooki’s as bad as it gets). Also, enjoy this non sequitor about alternative fertilization procedures.
Faced with this fine example of young Jersey womanhood, it’s no wonder that Christie dissed the show and, by (hair) extension, its star. When asked his opinion of the reality program, Christie bravely tried to let his state off the hook by suggesting that the cast were all New Yorkers “parachuted in” to the Jersey Shore for the summer.
The governor had a point.
It takes courage to criticize a TV show.
The people at the Shore are mostly not really from Jersey. So it’s unfair to define the state by some randy out-of-towners, including a dwarf whose hair is higher than her IQ.
Short people got no reason to live
And I don’t know why Christie stopped with “Jersey Shore.” He should have aimed his rapier wit at other shows that purport to depict his state, monstrosities like “Real Housewives of New Jersey,” “Jerseylicious” and “Jersey Couture.” If I were a teenager in, say, San Francisco with very little exposure to the Garden (of Evil) State, I’d be convinced that the entire population is composed of tackily dressed Italian harridans and their tattooed husbands. Oh, and no natural blondes.
New Jersey is an terrible terrible place. I wonder if Snooki’s carpet matches the drapes, if you know what I mean.
But let’s get back to Snooki.
God I love this show. I could watch it all day… in the name of research of course. For my column, now shut up, Snooki’s on!
The fact that this young lady has somehow become a media sensation is a shocking commentary on TV, the viewing public (the show gets great ratings) and today’s young men.
Which is why I am contributing to the media sensationalism and watching the show.
Snooki has obviously progressed far beyond that first kiss in middle school (and is probably on file with the Centers for Disease Control). Therefore, any male who would even consider approaching her is either desperate, a masochist or had better have a highly developed immune system.
Oh boys? I’m not a whore who kissed boys in grade school. I believe sex is only for procreation, and as you can see, no baby. Hence, my vagina is pristine. Unlike that slut. Who I can’t stop watching.
And then you have my fellow Italian-Americans, who’ve been rather muted in their criticisms of Snooki & Co. I know there have been a few protests, but it’s almost like we’re suffering from a case of Stockholm syndrome.
I mean it: I’m literally held hostage by this show.
For every Knight of Columbus who attacks the show, there are hundreds who’ve been conditioned to actually like the attention. I’ve spoken with a number of young Italians who think it’s “cool” to see themselves, tattoos and all, depicted on the small screen like a moronic Bel Paese version of the Beverly Hillbillies.
Italian people shouldn’t get tattoos? Or something. Also, too.
Chris Christie hasn’t been duped.
The governor with paisano blood flowing through his veins knows a diss when he sees one. (As well as a “dems,” “dees” or “dose,” which pretty much covers the “Jersey Shore” lexicon.)
He’s the real Italian masterpiece.
Ooooh, Chris Christie is SO hot, he just makes me feel all puffy and warm and wet down there. Anybody have a zucchini?
Put On a Happy Face (Big Brother is Watching).
Put On a Happy Face (Not a Relentlessly Negative One)
White House proposal would ease FBI access to records of Internet activity:
The Obama administration is seeking to make it easier for the FBI to compel companies to turn over records of an individual’s Internet activity without a court order if agents deem the information relevant to a terrorism or intelligence investigation.
The administration wants to add just four words — “electronic communication transactional records” — to a list of items that the law says the FBI may demand without a judge’s approval. Government lawyers say this category of information includes the addresses to which an Internet user sends e-mail; the times and dates e-mail was sent and received; and possibly a user’s browser history. It does not include, the lawyers hasten to point out, the “content” of e-mail or other Internet communication….
To critics, the move is another example of an administration retreating from campaign pledges to enhance civil liberties in relation to national security. The proposal is “incredibly bold, given the amount of electronic data the government is already getting,” said Michelle Richardson, American Civil Liberties Union legislative counsel.
The critics say its effect would be to greatly expand the amount and type of personal data the government can obtain without a court order. “You’re bringing a big category of data — records reflecting who someone is communicating with in the digital world, Web browsing history and potentially location information — outside of judicial review,” said Michael Sussmann, a Justice Department lawyer under President Bill Clinton who now represents Internet and other firms.
While booman Tribune attacks the messenger for “shoddy reporting because no senators or congresscritters weigh in, I find myself nodding to the infectious Balloon-Juice beat:
it is impossible to think of a situation in which any administration, Republican or Democratic, can not just say national security and get whatever they want. And, as we’ve learned, even if they don’t get what they want, they’ll do it anyway, and the next administration will just “look forward, not backwards.” Unless you’re a whistleblower.
Back to the substance of the issue- wtf is so hard about getting a damned warrant?
Exactly (and for the record, Cole does not live in an alternative universe of permanent outrage and relentless negativity, fueled and fostered by the blogosphere). For example, just yesterday, despite “promises made by everybody running everywhere for every seat in every branch of the federal government not to fund the wars through supplemental appropriations ever again”, we just threw another $37 billion down the toilet in the name of national security.
So now Black Bush wants to read “the addresses to which an Internet user sends e-mail; the times and dates e-mail was sent and received; and possibly a user’s browser history.”
Put on a happy, hopeful, changeful face because Big Brother is watching.
