My blog has never been averse to shameless plugs (and no, I am not referring to a vice-presidential form of cosmetic surgery) so I will gladly hawk our first gig. The Steve Phillips Quartet, for which nigh unto a thousand more colourful names have been suggested and none yet agreed upon, will be playing next Thursday, the 6th of August, at Jardine's in Kansas City.
The band is Steve Phillips (tenor/soprano sax), Arturo LaCruz (piano/keys), myself (fretless bass), and David Hoffman (drums). We've only managed to have one full band practice yet, with another couple next week hopefully, so it should be especially entertaining to come watch me fall flat on my face on probably not a few tunes. It'll be a blend of contemporary jazz, some more modern stuff, some older stuff, and as much funk as I can pack in there (alas, no Bootsy at this first gig), and there is no cover. We're playing 5:30 to 7:30, the early set.
Come out after work if you like, have a snooty mixed drink or an appetizer, and enjoy!
(PS. I will continue investigating the feasibility of the yazz flute mixed drink blowtorch effect..."I'm not even prepared...")
02 July 2009
Thought I'd do a little review of last Friday's concert at Starlight.
We arrived there a bit early, and queued with the rest of the crowd in the summer heat, and I hesitate to admit I was one of the approximately 2,000 people who thought themselves insanely witty upon remarking that he might play songs from his album "Hotter Than July". My wife is a tolerant woman.
So we get in and find our seats, and with 10 minutes before show time we sit down and await the arrival of Stevie and company. Eventually the cast of characters in our particular section of terrace 3 assembles: most notably, the two loud-mouthed but affable hooligans directly behind us, and the hopelessly drunk big dude a few seats to my left. Hooligan A directly behind me was the Chief of Hooliganery, and he enjoyed himself immensely belting out toneless (but surprisingly accurate, lyrically) renditions of the varied Police and Bob Marley tunes playing over the PA before the main act got started. He deftly defused any potential avenues for us to complain about this (or any other behavior of his) by indignantly exclaiming to no one in particular, "I paid my money, I'm gon' enjoy myself!" Other interesting topics of discussion were the fact that they could only procure two beers per journey to and from the many varied alcohol vendors at the back of the theatre. This was apparently a tremendous handicap to their stated intent of having a good time, but put your hearts at ease; I can assure you that they did indeed have a good time.
Hopelessly Drunk Big Dude was the other character of note, and he and his lady friend were, as you might suspect, full to the backteeth of the right stuff. He had a wonderfully amusing habit of screaming, at inappropriately soft/tender/introspective moments in the concert, either "woooooooooooo!" or "yyyyeaaaaahhhrrgghhh!" or "herrrre we goooooo!", throwing his arms up in the air in elation, and then planting a drunken mouth gesture (one hesitates to call it a kiss, as such) on his lady friend. I think it could be said that he, too, was having a good time.
So we're waiting (YEARRGGHH!) for the concert to begin (HERE WE GO!). And waiting...and I catch myself seconds before actually mentioning CP time. Anyway, the concert finally gets under way at 8:55, almost an hour behind schedule, but at least by this point the sun has started to fade and it is cooling off. Mr. Wonder himself is led out on stage by his daughter (Aisha Morris, who performs as a backup singer with him). Stevie addresses the crowd, and is notably upset regarding the previous day's events. He gathers some steam and starts all but preaching a sermon against the news media and others that criticise and snipe at Michael Jackson. The crowd laps it in, and I think this may be where Hooligan B started his (also wonderfully amusing) habit of screaming at strangely inappropriate times, at the top of his lungs, a woeful "MICHAEL!!!!!". Time to get down to business though...Stevie sets down and starts up a soft, piano based version of "Love's in Need of Love Today". Hooligans A and B had been making guesses on what the opener song would be, and in my mind I had forecasted this very song, but had sadly not voiced this guess to the Hooligans and so I had to content myself with private celebration of this substantial victory. Stevie then segues into a rendition of "Kansas City", with the band I think taken by surprise but professional in their ability to catch back up. Then into a Latin-tinged "Bird of Beauty". The band really took off with the less well known but thoroughly smoking "As If You Read My Mind", which stuck in my head as a possible cover tune for future musical projects. However, all these songs were not exceptionally well known to the crowd, and so when the thumping bass line of "Master Blaster (Jammin')" kicked out next, the crowd erupted and rose to their feet. After that, Stevie mused a bit on his fallen comrade-in-funk (Hooligan B: "MICHAELLLL!"), and invited the crowd to sing the vocals on an instrumental version of "Billie Jean". A joyfully groovy rendition of "Did I Hear You Say You Love Me" jolted the crowd (and I suspect the band leader himself) out of the melancholy mood, and "All I Do" got the crowd excited and into it. Also, the last three songs (outside of the MJ reference) had been indeed from "Hotter Than July", which of course made the aforementioned 2,000 people think themselves now both witty AND clairvoyant.
Things went down a few notches on the intensity scale, and with the band grooving mildly, Stevie started using what appeared to be a talkbox (different from the vocoder which is more common among keyboardists). Not only did he give Peter Frampton a run for his money with his ability to clearly enunciate with the talkbox, he actually launched back into his sermon about Michael's eternal destiny, and the overall naughtiness of folks that criticise him and such like. Frampton just wanted to know if we felt like he did, but Stevie was delivering a full-blown philisophical treatise via talkbox!
Collectively the crowd felt embarrassed as Stevie mentioned a song he wrote for Michael Jackson ("I Can't Help It") that meant a lot to him, and when he asked the crowd to sing the vocals we all just sat around mumbling, without any real clue as to the lyrics. There was a mild fear he was going to get pissed and berate us for our lack of faithfulness to the lyrics of the King of Pop, but thankfully he was gracious in that regard to our ignorance. Then into "Never Can Say Goodbye" by the Jackson 5, which of course elicited not a small amount of mournful exclamations from Hooligan B.
"Higher Ground" brought the funky momentum back to the show, which was followed by Chick Corea's "Spain", which is their usual band showcase tune, including fantastic solos from each member of the band; the excellence of the band cannot be understated, this is every bit as professional a groove outfit as Steely Dan. "Don't You Worry 'Bout a Thing" followed, and I'm reasonably sure the band played the whole song but I couldn't say that with certainty, in that Hooligans A and B had found their favorite song and were singing (or, something akin to singing) with eardrum-busting intensity. At one point, I believe Hooligan A drunk-dialed his mom of all people to say "Hi Mom! I'm at Stevie Wonder! They're playing our song!" The song finished...and of course, a seemingly random "MICHAEL!!!!" punctuated the silence that followed. Which was actually fitting in that Stevie sitting at the piano started writing an improvised song of sorts, along the same theme of people criticising people, how that's bad, and how someone is with the Father now, et cetera. The mood remained soft for a beautiful performance of "You and I" from Talking Book. Hopeless Drunk Big Dude thought the soft piano ballad was a great time to fling his arms violently in the air and bellow "HEERRRE WE GOOO! WOOOOO!". Then, another one of those well-known-to-the-crowd songs got everyone else on their feet with "Living for the City", followed with his old Motown standard "Signed, Sealed, Delivered". Here Hooligan B tried a variant of his previous formula, shouting (I swear by Almighty God!) "OBAMA!" instead of his usual vocal tic.
At this point Stevie announced he needed a break for some tea, so they played a pop R&B song over the PA. What I found so interesting was Stevie didn't exit the stage for his break. He sat happily at the front of the stage. I suppose since he couldn't see the crowd, it isn't as if he especially needed to be off stage to take a break. After the break Aisha Morris sang a soft jazz sort of song ("I'm Going to Laugh You Out of My Life") with her father, and the band ratcheted things up for the final sprint to the end of the set, first with "Sir Duke", and then with the song I took to be the final song of the set, "Superstition". Halfway through the song, looking around at the absolutely marinated, sodden, drunk-beyond-belief state of our fellow concert-goers, we decided to be fair weather fans and make a break for the exit. As we exited the gates we heard them finish the song and go into "As", a fantastic song, but getting out of the parking lot alive and on time was more than worth missing that tune.
All in all a fantastic show, if it was a bit of a memorial service. I may seem a bit harsh in my discussion of that aspect of it, but I don't really mean it with regard to Stevie Wonder, at least. There is a difference between his grief, having lost a personal friend who (as they both were child prodigies from the Motown label) must have seemed a bit like a kid brother to him, and the celebrity-adoring grief of the average fan, or the crocodile tears of other celebrities that rush their publicists out to make statements of how distraught they are (that they have to take time away from filming their movie which will be out in September! Previews available online!).
I did mention that this would be a "little" review, my apologies for the false advertising.
"MICHAELLL!!!!"
We arrived there a bit early, and queued with the rest of the crowd in the summer heat, and I hesitate to admit I was one of the approximately 2,000 people who thought themselves insanely witty upon remarking that he might play songs from his album "Hotter Than July". My wife is a tolerant woman.
So we get in and find our seats, and with 10 minutes before show time we sit down and await the arrival of Stevie and company. Eventually the cast of characters in our particular section of terrace 3 assembles: most notably, the two loud-mouthed but affable hooligans directly behind us, and the hopelessly drunk big dude a few seats to my left. Hooligan A directly behind me was the Chief of Hooliganery, and he enjoyed himself immensely belting out toneless (but surprisingly accurate, lyrically) renditions of the varied Police and Bob Marley tunes playing over the PA before the main act got started. He deftly defused any potential avenues for us to complain about this (or any other behavior of his) by indignantly exclaiming to no one in particular, "I paid my money, I'm gon' enjoy myself!" Other interesting topics of discussion were the fact that they could only procure two beers per journey to and from the many varied alcohol vendors at the back of the theatre. This was apparently a tremendous handicap to their stated intent of having a good time, but put your hearts at ease; I can assure you that they did indeed have a good time.
Hopelessly Drunk Big Dude was the other character of note, and he and his lady friend were, as you might suspect, full to the backteeth of the right stuff. He had a wonderfully amusing habit of screaming, at inappropriately soft/tender/introspective moments in the concert, either "woooooooooooo!" or "yyyyeaaaaahhhrrgghhh!" or "herrrre we goooooo!", throwing his arms up in the air in elation, and then planting a drunken mouth gesture (one hesitates to call it a kiss, as such) on his lady friend. I think it could be said that he, too, was having a good time.
So we're waiting (YEARRGGHH!) for the concert to begin (HERE WE GO!). And waiting...and I catch myself seconds before actually mentioning CP time. Anyway, the concert finally gets under way at 8:55, almost an hour behind schedule, but at least by this point the sun has started to fade and it is cooling off. Mr. Wonder himself is led out on stage by his daughter (Aisha Morris, who performs as a backup singer with him). Stevie addresses the crowd, and is notably upset regarding the previous day's events. He gathers some steam and starts all but preaching a sermon against the news media and others that criticise and snipe at Michael Jackson. The crowd laps it in, and I think this may be where Hooligan B started his (also wonderfully amusing) habit of screaming at strangely inappropriate times, at the top of his lungs, a woeful "MICHAEL!!!!!". Time to get down to business though...Stevie sets down and starts up a soft, piano based version of "Love's in Need of Love Today". Hooligans A and B had been making guesses on what the opener song would be, and in my mind I had forecasted this very song, but had sadly not voiced this guess to the Hooligans and so I had to content myself with private celebration of this substantial victory. Stevie then segues into a rendition of "Kansas City", with the band I think taken by surprise but professional in their ability to catch back up. Then into a Latin-tinged "Bird of Beauty". The band really took off with the less well known but thoroughly smoking "As If You Read My Mind", which stuck in my head as a possible cover tune for future musical projects. However, all these songs were not exceptionally well known to the crowd, and so when the thumping bass line of "Master Blaster (Jammin')" kicked out next, the crowd erupted and rose to their feet. After that, Stevie mused a bit on his fallen comrade-in-funk (Hooligan B: "MICHAELLLL!"), and invited the crowd to sing the vocals on an instrumental version of "Billie Jean". A joyfully groovy rendition of "Did I Hear You Say You Love Me" jolted the crowd (and I suspect the band leader himself) out of the melancholy mood, and "All I Do" got the crowd excited and into it. Also, the last three songs (outside of the MJ reference) had been indeed from "Hotter Than July", which of course made the aforementioned 2,000 people think themselves now both witty AND clairvoyant.
Things went down a few notches on the intensity scale, and with the band grooving mildly, Stevie started using what appeared to be a talkbox (different from the vocoder which is more common among keyboardists). Not only did he give Peter Frampton a run for his money with his ability to clearly enunciate with the talkbox, he actually launched back into his sermon about Michael's eternal destiny, and the overall naughtiness of folks that criticise him and such like. Frampton just wanted to know if we felt like he did, but Stevie was delivering a full-blown philisophical treatise via talkbox!
Collectively the crowd felt embarrassed as Stevie mentioned a song he wrote for Michael Jackson ("I Can't Help It") that meant a lot to him, and when he asked the crowd to sing the vocals we all just sat around mumbling, without any real clue as to the lyrics. There was a mild fear he was going to get pissed and berate us for our lack of faithfulness to the lyrics of the King of Pop, but thankfully he was gracious in that regard to our ignorance. Then into "Never Can Say Goodbye" by the Jackson 5, which of course elicited not a small amount of mournful exclamations from Hooligan B.
"Higher Ground" brought the funky momentum back to the show, which was followed by Chick Corea's "Spain", which is their usual band showcase tune, including fantastic solos from each member of the band; the excellence of the band cannot be understated, this is every bit as professional a groove outfit as Steely Dan. "Don't You Worry 'Bout a Thing" followed, and I'm reasonably sure the band played the whole song but I couldn't say that with certainty, in that Hooligans A and B had found their favorite song and were singing (or, something akin to singing) with eardrum-busting intensity. At one point, I believe Hooligan A drunk-dialed his mom of all people to say "Hi Mom! I'm at Stevie Wonder! They're playing our song!" The song finished...and of course, a seemingly random "MICHAEL!!!!" punctuated the silence that followed. Which was actually fitting in that Stevie sitting at the piano started writing an improvised song of sorts, along the same theme of people criticising people, how that's bad, and how someone is with the Father now, et cetera. The mood remained soft for a beautiful performance of "You and I" from Talking Book. Hopeless Drunk Big Dude thought the soft piano ballad was a great time to fling his arms violently in the air and bellow "HEERRRE WE GOOO! WOOOOO!". Then, another one of those well-known-to-the-crowd songs got everyone else on their feet with "Living for the City", followed with his old Motown standard "Signed, Sealed, Delivered". Here Hooligan B tried a variant of his previous formula, shouting (I swear by Almighty God!) "OBAMA!" instead of his usual vocal tic.
At this point Stevie announced he needed a break for some tea, so they played a pop R&B song over the PA. What I found so interesting was Stevie didn't exit the stage for his break. He sat happily at the front of the stage. I suppose since he couldn't see the crowd, it isn't as if he especially needed to be off stage to take a break. After the break Aisha Morris sang a soft jazz sort of song ("I'm Going to Laugh You Out of My Life") with her father, and the band ratcheted things up for the final sprint to the end of the set, first with "Sir Duke", and then with the song I took to be the final song of the set, "Superstition". Halfway through the song, looking around at the absolutely marinated, sodden, drunk-beyond-belief state of our fellow concert-goers, we decided to be fair weather fans and make a break for the exit. As we exited the gates we heard them finish the song and go into "As", a fantastic song, but getting out of the parking lot alive and on time was more than worth missing that tune.
All in all a fantastic show, if it was a bit of a memorial service. I may seem a bit harsh in my discussion of that aspect of it, but I don't really mean it with regard to Stevie Wonder, at least. There is a difference between his grief, having lost a personal friend who (as they both were child prodigies from the Motown label) must have seemed a bit like a kid brother to him, and the celebrity-adoring grief of the average fan, or the crocodile tears of other celebrities that rush their publicists out to make statements of how distraught they are (that they have to take time away from filming their movie which will be out in September! Previews available online!).
I did mention that this would be a "little" review, my apologies for the false advertising.
"MICHAELLL!!!!"
20 June 2009
As of yesterday, we are pet-less...the inimitable Mrs. Reagan has gone on to Valhalla, after a couple years of living with diabetes and then a final expensive (!!!) week of treatment for something or other (heart disease or cancer) that ended when she passed away under a shot of anaesthesia. Still, she had a good run. We took pictures because we thought we might have to put her down yesterday, it turns out she did the job for us! Great cat, possibly part Maine Coon (she was pushing 18 lbs and had a friendly dog-like disposition).
With our 1 year old, who could probably take a bit of credit for stress on the poor animal's heart:
Here she is getting suited up for her voyage to the Halls of Asgard, driven on by the Valkyries, there to reunite with her forbears again in Valhalla, toasting her fellow slain with great mazers of Mjød, awaiting Ragnarök:
In Memory:
With our 1 year old, who could probably take a bit of credit for stress on the poor animal's heart:
Here she is getting suited up for her voyage to the Halls of Asgard, driven on by the Valkyries, there to reunite with her forbears again in Valhalla, toasting her fellow slain with great mazers of Mjød, awaiting Ragnarök:
In Memory:
Lo, there do I see my father.
Lo, there do I see my mother,and my sisters, and my brothers.
Lo, there do I see the line of my people,
Back to the beginning!
Lo, they do call to me.
They bid me take my place among them,
In the halls of Valhalla!
Where the brave may live
Forever!
14 June 2009
Nathan Watts has earned another fan. I love the very slight bit of warm, fuzzy grit to his tone...not the hi-fi, ultra-modern tones most R&B bassists nowadays go for. But it's that pulsing, incendiary line he grooves on that propels this tune to the point that a 10min running length doesn't feel quite sufficient:
Stevie Wonder - Do I Do
Should be more palatable to those for whom Bootsy presents massive, catastrophic phunk-overload. Get down wit' yo funky selves.
EDIT: BONUS!
Stevie Wonder - Do I Do
Should be more palatable to those for whom Bootsy presents massive, catastrophic phunk-overload. Get down wit' yo funky selves.
EDIT: BONUS!
19 May 2009
So my wife, for a preemptive and utterly awesome Father's Day gift, suggests tickets, in June, to one of the High Council Groovemasters of the Known World, playing at Starlight Theatre. I've since been checking out a bit more of his albums, and from Talking Book, I've had this in my head walking home from work:
Stevie Wonder - Tuesday Heartbreak
I am fully prepared, mind you, to see a huge banner of our sitting President unfurled to the strains of "Isn't He Lovely". One is generally prepared to accommodate such ridiculosity for the sake of such funkilious groovicitude.
Stevie Wonder - Tuesday Heartbreak
I am fully prepared, mind you, to see a huge banner of our sitting President unfurled to the strains of "Isn't He Lovely". One is generally prepared to accommodate such ridiculosity for the sake of such funkilious groovicitude.
01 May 2009
Of the many musical excesses of the Eighties, this one I find particularly wonderful and amusing. Steve Howe, particularly as he goes into his solo at about the three minute mark, is probably one of the greatest and most creative guitarists to do such cheesy claptrap. But he does it so well. When 99% of other guitarists would do power chords, Howe does arpeggios.
Yes and Asia will share a stage this July in KC. Will have to see it...Howe playing guitar for both. To give you a perspective on the contrast...
Yes and Asia will share a stage this July in KC. Will have to see it...Howe playing guitar for both. To give you a perspective on the contrast...
20 April 2009
A passage from Doogie Adams' Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency:
Well, he's one of those people who can only think when he's talking. When he has ideas, he has to talk them out to whoever will listen. Or, if the people themselves are not available, which is increasingly the case, their answering machines will do just as well. He just phones them up and talks at them. He has one secretary whose sole job is to collect tapes from people he might have phoned, transcribe them, sort them and give him the edited text the next day in a blue folder.I swear I work with two or three of these types. It's my own fault for being such a blasted good listener.
09 April 2009
Review - Stretchin' Out in Bootsy's Rubber Band
Yes, strap on your funk goggles my friends, I'm doing an unsolicited quick track by track review of the first Bootsy Collins solo album, released in 1976.
Yes, strap on your funk goggles my friends, I'm doing an unsolicited quick track by track review of the first Bootsy Collins solo album, released in 1976.
1. Stretchin' Out (In a Rubber Band)
A good intro to Mr. Collins' particularly atypical approach to basslines, this was a live classic. Casper is introduced, and the band keeps a nice locked groove.
2. Psychoticbumpschool
Probably my favorite track of the album, this one starts out with some great guitar rhythm licks from Catfish. The first part of the song has a lot of complex turns, and then (after some cheesy introductions) it settles on a groove with a single note, envelope filtered bass line. Live performances amp up this groove quite a bit, but I somewhat enjoy the simplicity of the groove that sits on top of the bass. The Horny Horns here have a great part that carries through to the end of the song.
3. Another Point of View
Highlight of this song is a razor sharp guitar riff. Crisp, taut, and doubled perfectly by the Space Bass.
4. I'd Rather Be With You
One of his most famous songs, with a slow melodic groove. Note the melodica used for the high background melody.
5. Love Vibes
Cheesy as all get out, Mr. Collins puts a female vocalist doing a decent if uninspired lead on a hippie-love soul song. Skippable.
6. Physical Love
Awful lyrics (but, well, they've been awful up to here anyway...lyrical content is not what brings you to P-Funk family albums), but a pretty solid groove.
7. Vanish in Our Sleep
A perfect ending to the album, a slow groove of simple drums, bass, and an interwoven blend of effected guitar melody and rich Rhodes piano. There are some effects employed on this song that remind me of effects used for transitions on Radiohead's OK Computer album. Nothing new under the sun, eh?
06 April 2009
So I guess I need to post lest this blog go completely stale.
Talking with my younger brother yesterday, I recalled a guitar of his that ended up getting stolen, a cheap Telecaster copy, in which I had installed a set of pickups designed by Bill Lawrence (the L-280TN and L-290TL, I believe), and I rather liked that guitar. Humfree with tons of chirpy high-end and clarity. Bill Lawrence is a wizard of pickupology.
And also, he's not the worst guitarist in the world, either.
[Sits around, looks at watch, and waits for EZ Wajcman to comment on the thread accusing me of libel...]
Yes, only recovering guitar gear nerds such as I will follow that...
Talking with my younger brother yesterday, I recalled a guitar of his that ended up getting stolen, a cheap Telecaster copy, in which I had installed a set of pickups designed by Bill Lawrence (the L-280TN and L-290TL, I believe), and I rather liked that guitar. Humfree with tons of chirpy high-end and clarity. Bill Lawrence is a wizard of pickupology.
And also, he's not the worst guitarist in the world, either.
[Sits around, looks at watch, and waits for EZ Wajcman to comment on the thread accusing me of libel...]
Yes, only recovering guitar gear nerds such as I will follow that...
26 February 2009
16 February 2009
Courtesy Steven Raichlen: Saigon Chicken.
I started with a whole chicken and made up a basic marinade using soy sauce, cooking wine (actually a honey mead I have on tap), Chinese five-spice powder, cinnamon, coriander, garlic, and Asian sesame oil. Marinated overnight, and smoke-roasted on the ol' Weber until in the 170+ range. Here it is, crackling crisp skin and all:
I "pulled" the chicken and chopped up the skin, all mixed together. Below are the ingredients, clockwise from the top: chicken, rice noodles, romaine lettuce leaves, cucumber spears, peanut sauce, grilled green onions, and raw ginger spears. The peanut sauce is around 1/3 cup hoisin sauce, 1/3 cup peanut butter, 1/4 cup Thai sweet chile sauce, and a dose of Tabasco habanero sauce and ginger soy sauce to thin the mixture.
Now all put together, a refreshingly healthy way to eat barbeque:
I started with a whole chicken and made up a basic marinade using soy sauce, cooking wine (actually a honey mead I have on tap), Chinese five-spice powder, cinnamon, coriander, garlic, and Asian sesame oil. Marinated overnight, and smoke-roasted on the ol' Weber until in the 170+ range. Here it is, crackling crisp skin and all:
I "pulled" the chicken and chopped up the skin, all mixed together. Below are the ingredients, clockwise from the top: chicken, rice noodles, romaine lettuce leaves, cucumber spears, peanut sauce, grilled green onions, and raw ginger spears. The peanut sauce is around 1/3 cup hoisin sauce, 1/3 cup peanut butter, 1/4 cup Thai sweet chile sauce, and a dose of Tabasco habanero sauce and ginger soy sauce to thin the mixture.
Now all put together, a refreshingly healthy way to eat barbeque:
11 February 2009
I noticed something today that indicates what a total rip-off the 14th of February is.
Last week at our local Hy-Vee grocery store, one of the specials was a pound of strawberries for $1.88. Not a bad price, I bought a carton of them.
This morning I received the weekly specials email from Hy-Vee, and looking through it, I noticed a page that had Valentine's Day themed items on sale.
The same exact strawberries.
$6.88 a pound.
And people will buy them!!!
Last week at our local Hy-Vee grocery store, one of the specials was a pound of strawberries for $1.88. Not a bad price, I bought a carton of them.
This morning I received the weekly specials email from Hy-Vee, and looking through it, I noticed a page that had Valentine's Day themed items on sale.
The same exact strawberries.
$6.88 a pound.
And people will buy them!!!
02 February 2009
For those that love "Yazz Flute".
Seriously, that bass tone, when he starts kicking in around 1:30, it's all I can do but avoid saving my pennies for a pair of star-shaped sunglasses and a Space Bass.
Seriously, that bass tone, when he starts kicking in around 1:30, it's all I can do but avoid saving my pennies for a pair of star-shaped sunglasses and a Space Bass.
16 January 2009
It's fairly normal for me to go in phases of, well, renaissance, if you will (I sure as spit wouldn't!) as regards music. Right now I'm somewhat back in a Steely Dan phase.
Someone finally uploaded this tune, a song never released because some idiot in the recording studio erased the final version, and the band was either too discouraged or too stoned to attempt it again. It is in low quality, but the playing and writing are great.
Steely Dan - The Second Arrangement
Here's another great one from their most recent album Everything Must Go, a much better album than Two Against Nature. This song was described as a metaphor for addiction...not by me, so don't point those pretense-accusing fingers at me! The weird, distorted keyboard solo at the end is worth price of admission alone.
Steely Dan - Lunch with Gina
Someone finally uploaded this tune, a song never released because some idiot in the recording studio erased the final version, and the band was either too discouraged or too stoned to attempt it again. It is in low quality, but the playing and writing are great.
Steely Dan - The Second Arrangement
Here's another great one from their most recent album Everything Must Go, a much better album than Two Against Nature. This song was described as a metaphor for addiction...not by me, so don't point those pretense-accusing fingers at me! The weird, distorted keyboard solo at the end is worth price of admission alone.
Steely Dan - Lunch with Gina
30 December 2008
Delving briefly back into the culinary...
First, a nice little invention I made during my highly-productive time off from work. My wife has been getting over a cold/flu/plague, and to get enough vitamins she was drinking juice. We only had grape juice on hand, which was too sweet, and you can't drink enough of it to stay hydrated easily. We tried watering it down...I was told this was gross. Then I somewhat accidentally came across something that tasted like Kool-Aid. Here's what it is:
Ingredients:
1 orange
1 lime (optional)
Cold water
Grape juice
First, take an orange and a peeler and peel off a good bit of the outer zest layer of the rind, maybe 2/3 of the orange, in large pieces. Try not to get a lot of the inner white pith. Put the large pieces of orange zest in a gallon container. Juice the orange; add the strained juice to the aforementioned container. Fill to 1 gallon with cold water. I later discovered doing the same with a lime, as well, enhanced the taste, but the orange is all that is required.
Then let this citrus water sit in the refrigerator for some time...fill a glass 3/4 full with it, and top it off with 1/4 of grape juice. For some reason we both really liked it. A lot less sugar than straight juice, but full of flavor, with no added sugar or flavorings other than natural fruit. If you prefer it sweeter or less sweet, vary the ratio of water to grape juice accordingly.
Also, on Boxing Day I got to use my Christmas gift, a Swiss-made 12" Forschner slicing knife. Got up before dawn to get a full packer brisket on the smoker, 12 pounds of good smoking beef. I used a wet rub marinade on it (all the usual ingredients of a dry rub, paprika, brown sugar, salt, chili powder, cayenne, cumin, garlic powder, onion powder, etc., plus a few tablespoons of Worcestershire sauce and Tabasco Habanero sauce) the night before, and here it is before the sun has risen:
After 9 hours in the smoker and 2-3 in a slightly higher temp oven to finish, it was ready. In this picture I've shown only about half of the flat, maybe a quarter of the whole brisket, sliced up in a bowl. The Forschner knife was superb, and with some practice my ability to slice meat thinly is likely to improve. With the food is my first draft homebrew, an Oktoberfest Maerzen.
First, a nice little invention I made during my highly-productive time off from work. My wife has been getting over a cold/flu/plague, and to get enough vitamins she was drinking juice. We only had grape juice on hand, which was too sweet, and you can't drink enough of it to stay hydrated easily. We tried watering it down...I was told this was gross. Then I somewhat accidentally came across something that tasted like Kool-Aid. Here's what it is:
Ingredients:
1 orange
1 lime (optional)
Cold water
Grape juice
First, take an orange and a peeler and peel off a good bit of the outer zest layer of the rind, maybe 2/3 of the orange, in large pieces. Try not to get a lot of the inner white pith. Put the large pieces of orange zest in a gallon container. Juice the orange; add the strained juice to the aforementioned container. Fill to 1 gallon with cold water. I later discovered doing the same with a lime, as well, enhanced the taste, but the orange is all that is required.
Then let this citrus water sit in the refrigerator for some time...fill a glass 3/4 full with it, and top it off with 1/4 of grape juice. For some reason we both really liked it. A lot less sugar than straight juice, but full of flavor, with no added sugar or flavorings other than natural fruit. If you prefer it sweeter or less sweet, vary the ratio of water to grape juice accordingly.
Also, on Boxing Day I got to use my Christmas gift, a Swiss-made 12" Forschner slicing knife. Got up before dawn to get a full packer brisket on the smoker, 12 pounds of good smoking beef. I used a wet rub marinade on it (all the usual ingredients of a dry rub, paprika, brown sugar, salt, chili powder, cayenne, cumin, garlic powder, onion powder, etc., plus a few tablespoons of Worcestershire sauce and Tabasco Habanero sauce) the night before, and here it is before the sun has risen:
After 9 hours in the smoker and 2-3 in a slightly higher temp oven to finish, it was ready. In this picture I've shown only about half of the flat, maybe a quarter of the whole brisket, sliced up in a bowl. The Forschner knife was superb, and with some practice my ability to slice meat thinly is likely to improve. With the food is my first draft homebrew, an Oktoberfest Maerzen.
25 December 2008
This left me in awe. Stick through the first two minutes of weirdness, and there's some fantastic horn breakdowns by Fred and The Horny Horns.
Here's one of the more disturbing Christmas remixes, but still amusing and relevant today.
Here's one of the more disturbing Christmas remixes, but still amusing and relevant today.
23 December 2008
For your amusement, a section from Life, the Universe, and Everything. I was particularly reminded of climate change hysteria by the observation of man's insatiable need to interpret everything around him as a sign.
One night, he said, a spaceship appeared in the sky of a planet which had never seen one before. The planet was Dalforsas, the ship was this one. It appeared as a brilliant new star moving silently across the heavens.
Primitive tribesmen who were sitting huddled on the Cold Hillsides looked up from their steaming night-drinks and pointed with trembling fingers, swearing that they had seen a sign, a sign from their gods which meant that they must now arise at last and go and slay the evil Princes of the Plains.
In the high turrets of their palaces, the Princes of the Plains looked up and saw the shining star, and received it unmistakably as a sign from their gods that they must now go and set about the accursed Tribesmen of the Cold Hillsides.
And between them, the Dwellers in the Forest looked up into the sky and saw the sigh of the new star, and saw it with fear and apprehension, for though they had never seen anything like it before, they too knew precisely what it foreshadowed, and they bowed their heads in despair.
They knew that when the rains came, it was a sign.
When the rains departed, it was a sign.
When the winds rose, it was a sign.
When the winds fell, it was a sign.
When in the land there was born at midnight of a full moon a goat with three heads, that was a sign.
When in the land there was born at some time in the afternoon a perfectly normal cat or pig with no birth complications at all, or even just a child with a retrousse nose, that too would often be taken as a sign.
So there was no doubt at all that a new star in the sky was a sign of a particularly spectacular order.
And each new sign signified the same thing — that the Princes of the Plains and the Tribesmen of the Cold Hillsides were about to beat the hell out of each other again.
This in itself wouldn't be so bad, except that the Princes of the Plains and the Tribesmen of the Cold Hillsides always elected to beat the hell out of each other in the Forest, and it was always the Dwellers in the Forest who came off worst in these exchanges, though as far as they could see it never had anything to do with them.
And sometimes, after some of the worst of these outrages, the Dwellers in the Forest would send a messenger to either the leader of the Princes of the Plains or the leader of the Tribesmen of the Cold Hillsides and demand to know the reason for this intolerable behaviour.
And the leader, whichever one it was, would take the messenger aside and explain the Reason to him, slowly and carefully and with great attention to the considerable detail involved.
And the terrible thing was, it was a very good one. It was very clear, very rational, and tough. The messenger would hang his head and feel sad and foolish that he had not realized what a tough and complex place the real world was, and what difficulties and paradoxes had to be embraced if one was to live in it.
"Now do you understand?" the leader would say.
The messenger would nod dumbly.
"And you see these battles have to take place?"
Another dumb nod.
"And why they have to take place in the forest, and why it is in everybody's best interest, the Forest Dwellers included, that they should?"
"Er ..."
"In the long run."
"Er, yes."
And the messenger did understand the Reason, and he returned to his people in the Forest. But as he approached them, as he walked through the Forest and amongst the trees, he found that all he could remember of the Reason was how terribly clear the argument had seemed. What it actually was he couldn't remember at all.
And this, of course, was a great comfort when next the Tribesmen and the Princes came hacking and burning their way through the Forest, killing every Forest Dweller in their way.
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