Lip Service

Lip Service
(Elvis Costello)

You left the motor running.
But I know you're so attractive.
Getting in some sharp practice.
You better not do anything reckless.

But everybody is going through the motions.
Everybody is going through the motions.
Are you really only going through the motions?

Lip service is all you'll ever get from me.
Lip service is all you'll ever get from me.
Lip service is all you'll ever get from me.
But if you change your mind
you can send it a letter to me

Don't make any sudden movements.
These are dangerous amusements.
When did you become so choosy?
Don't act like you're above me;
just look at your shoes.

[Repeat bridge and chorus]

But if you change your mind
you can send it a letter to me
But if you change your mind
you can send it a letter to me
But if you change your mind
you can send a little letter to me


Memorial Day

Memorial Day

Tracy decided that we should visit her relatives cabin on Whidbey Island. So we went and picked up the key from her son's grandparents on Friday. We would've left that evening, but Jay's birthday is tomorrow, so we met up with him and a bunch of his friends at The Bush Garden for drinks and to watch some folks murder some pop songs. I never acheived the level drunken bravado that would allow me to get my ass up there (despite Tracy's urgings - I'm like: "I sing to you all the friggin' time! And only when will cause me to embarrass myself does it count! Just like a woman!!") Jay was feeling no pain when we left, but I imagine that a trip to the Honey Court for some food later made the transition back to sobriety a tad easier.
With all that out of the way, we got an early start and arrived at the cabin (more like a small beach house) Saturday afternoon. The view was quite lovely. We were told that the tide was going to be really low around noon the next day. We went for a quick jaunt to the beach. The tide was coming in, so we pretty much put on our jammies, packed the CD player (roughing it? Hardly.) and laid around. Tracy packed quite a bit of food. Devilled eggs, AriZona green tea (for me), chicken breasts marinated in various spices, fruit (yick!), potatoes, lemon bars (for me), eggs, onions, garlic, pineapple juice, club soda and a bottle of Stoli. I built a fire and tended the grill that evening. We had steak marinated in Kalbi sauce and corn on the cob. Then we got our drink on.
The next day, we rolled out of bed and finished breakfast as the tide was going out. Armed with shovels and a couple of buckets we trooped down to the beach. After a few false starts, I found that clams love to taunt you by squirting a jet of water into the air. I basically dug a couple of holes and spend an hour hauling the little buggers out of the ground, espousing my prowess as The Great Clamhunter S.
Tracy was gracious enough to entertain my delusions, but we did manage haul our limit out of the ground in a couple of hours. We also caught a crab, but since neither of us could remember how to tell a male from a female, we let it go!
Lemme tell ya, those clams were freakin' HUGE! A few of my captures we almost as big as my fist! Tracy said she preferred the smaller ones she called "steamers" 'cause they didn't need cleaning.
"Uh...Cleaning?!" I exclaimed.
"Yeah. I'm sure you don't wanna deal with all those guts."
Already, The Clamhunter's enthusiasm was on the wane...
Tracy steamed up a nice sized bowl with wine, garlic and onion. I had a few...there was huge bucket outside with rather huge butter and horse clams innit and frankly, I didn't know when we'd get around to eating them. So I decided that I'd take them back to the beach in the morning and set 'em free.
That night we watched "Pieces of April", "Life or Something Like It" and then I watched a really bad vampire flick that Patty gave me. "Pieces of April" was fucked-up in the way that families are sometimes, but we were both leaking water when it was over. "Life" was a typical chick-flick but it had Angelina Jolie innit, nuff said.
We spent a couple of hours cleaning everything up while pumping house music. I assume the clams I released back into the wild burrowed successfully into the sand, 'cause I didn't see a big flock of seagulls over the spot I'd left them.
Tracy joked that this weekend would make us or break us, but I counted that we spend most weekends together anyway. Why would this one be any different?



Long Post!

Long Post!

It was pretty killer week. Tracy and I went to catch a sold-out George Clinton at The Showbox on Tuesday. T. bought the tickets. She'd seen the Black Eyed Peas the night before!
The opening act, The Children of Production was pretty tight. Funk and rap with a bit of R&B. Turned out that one of the female rappers is Clinton's granddaughter. After their set, Clinton's band came on and got the crowd hyped, then the Man Hisself appeared and everyone went nuts.
I think everyone was a bit concerned at first, 'cause it's been rumored the George hasn't been doing too well lately. I was disappointed by his appearance at Bumbershoot a few years ago. He looked like he'd just gotten up from a nap! But as the night went on, he seemed to get more and more energized! They pretty much stuck to the hits and the packed, sweaty, dancing crowd loved it!
Me? Not so much. I dunno why, but it seemed like they played everything at 3/4 speed, which was fine for some songs, not so good for some others. "Flashlight" seemed to drag on FOR-EVER!
I'd had a long day, so I was ready to go by midnight...and Tracy actually had to work! So we bailed before the show was over.

On Thursday, Frito and I went to The Baltic Room to catch Domu at The Baltic Room. It was sparsely attended, but the SunTzu posse stepped things up a bit and Domu's set was pretty killer.

On Friday, Tracy and I bought ice cream and stayed in.

On Saturday, I went over to Stu and Rachel's to meet Rachel's parents. Suze, Tyrone, Neil and I were all there and we had a pretty good time. Tracy met me there on her new motorcycle, "Muzzy" and she and I went on a 40 mile ride around the city. T was such a little badass on her Ninja. That aftermarket muffler makes the coolest sound!
Later on, we went down the Baltic to hang out. SunTzu and Kid Hops (from KEXP) were spinning. I had a nice buzz on from the coconut rum and coke I'd been drinking at Tracy's, plus a couple of vodka collins at the bar.
However, upon leaving, I insisted on a Dick's run which resulted in me wolfing down three cheeseburgers and thus spending the day feeling like I'd swallowed a rock.

Today, I went a reunion of sorts.

You see, back in 1979 Seattle started mandatory bussing. I got assigned to McClure Middle School on Queen Anne Hill. The first year the tension was pretty intense. A lot of the Queen Anne kids were pissed that they wouldn't get to go to Queen Anne High School (where my cousin June got harrassed) like their parents and grandparents did 'cause after 9th grade, they'd get bussed to Franklin out in the south end. I think we were too young and innocent to carry any super-hardcore attitudes, after all, I went to school with whites and Asians anyway. But these north end kids were way more affluent. They had their own slang and rock n roll seemed like a religion to them. Nobody from my neighborhood skiied or played hockey. And Queen Anne was a pretty tightly-knit community, although WAY more blue-collar than it is now.
So there were the usual fights and bullshit, but nothing major. Anyway, Jim Briggs and I got to pals on the last day of school that year. It was like fourth period and we were allowed to hang out and shoot the shit, 'cause there was no work to do. I don't remember how we started talking, but I remember trying to change the lyrics to Jermaine Jackson's 'Let's Get Serious' to 'Let's Eat Cereral' or something silly like that.
I think Jim's father died in a car wreck some time after that. I might have seem him once over the summer. I went to visit my Dad in Atlanta that year.
We carried on our friendship throughout jr. high school. In ninth grade, Jim and I would leave campus (totally against the rules) and he would take me up to this little five and dime on Galer St. on Queen Anne Hill. He'd buy me a Hostess Fruit Pie and milk 'cause I never had any money.
Don Nelson was a gruff old Norwegian guy, OLD SCHOOL SEATTLE, big time. He was bald and wore plain black-framed nerd glasses. He and his brother Fred ran Nelson's Food Store and for some reason, all the kids in the neighborhood would hang out there. It was like our club house! We'd play video games in the back, or hang out in Don's office, drinking bottled Coke and causing trouble. For some reason, Don would put up with us! Well, most of the time. It was a love/hate relationship, I think.
I moved away for two years, but on coming back to town in the summer of 1984, Nelson's was one of the first places I went. Of course all the heads were there: Rick, Andy, Paul, Gary, Brian, The Devil, Eric, Chris, Jimmy, Bret and Adam, etc. along with a whole cast of people from the neighborhood. I hung out there up until Jim went into the Marines. By then, the crowd I was hanging with had changed.
Anyway, Don Nelson died a few weeks ago. I missed the funeral, but Andy wrote me and asked me if I'd like to get together with some of the guys and have breakfast.
We met at the High-Life in Ballard.
It was Andy, Paul, Jim and Jimmy - I don't think we'd all been together in over 20 years! It was weird, 'cause amidst all the thinning and gray hair and talk of wives and kids and the shit we used to pull during our teen years, I was floored by all the names that came up -- and that we'd hadn't really changed much at all. All the people I knew. I'd gone camping and drinkin' and played endless games of basketball with these guys. I hadn't thought about Don Nelson in all that time, either.
We piled into Andy's ancient Cadillac DeVille and rolled out to Don's grave in north Seattle. His headstone wasn't in yet, but we paid our respects (mostly imitating things he'd said) and then went to see Eric, who lives nearby. I carried a weird feeling home with me today. How long until I start going to my friend's funerals? I hope it won't be for awhile (especially since we're now on the second wave of marriages and childbirths), but it's enevitable, innit?

I think we'll all make more of an effort to keep in touch now.


Wig N Skirt Party

Wig N Skirt Party

Tonight is the (somewhat) annual Wig N Skirt Party, put on my former roommate Dan The Man.
I was over at the house last night and this one's gonna be a doozy!
I hope to see you there, but if not...too bad!

I'll post pics to my Flickr site sometime tomorrow.


Pics from past events (we didn't have one in '05):






It was a great weekend...I caught one of the DJ's from Jazzanova on Thursday. The Mecha/Mefi meetup Saturday was a lot of fun and probably the best one yet! I came in to work on Sunday and we rearranged the scanning room and blacked out the windows. Now it's nice and dark in there and the light isn't always shifting!

I was looking forward to Beltane with my B-town friends, but my mother called today to tell me my grandmother had passed away. I was kind of expecting this as she was in poor health and my mother told me she wasn't doing so good. But at least her children were there to say goodbye and until my mom and aunt's make arrangements, everything is on hold.
My grandmother would've been 92 years old. She had 10 children - 9 of which are still around. We're pretty much scattered all over the west, so even though the funeral will be a somber occasion, the gathering of the tribe will be nice.

Oh, and props to Steven Colbert for his big, clanging titanium balls!