I am very happy. I've been singing farewell songs to George Bush all week leading up to today. Good riddance to him. Let Texas have him. I never need to see or hear from him again. Done.
President Obama gave a perfectly competent speech. A hightlight for me was when he said something like..."Christians and Muslims, Jews and Mormons (OK, I know he did not say that), and NON-BELIEVERS...." Good for him. Everyone always talks god this and god that and I get so tired of it. I am all about church and state. Keep 'em separate. Don't swear on a bible or say "under god." The constitution doesn't make you and let's keep your lord out of it.
Then there was Minister Joseph Lowery. I heard his benediction on NPR on the way to work. Couldn't make out what he was saying at first but really got into his closing words: "Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around, when yellow will be mellow, when the red man can get ahead, man; and when white will embrace what is right." Awesome! This rhyming was way more moving than what that poet lady said and got the point across.
We all need to settle down now. Bush is history and Obama needs to prove himself. He took a step in the right direction by suspending Guantanamo trials today. Nice move. Shut that place down! Let's reclaim the Geneva Conventions, please.
I come from a family of liberals and we were pleased today. I watched the swearing-in ceremony with my mom and she snuck a teeny American flag into my wallet before I left for work. She thanked me for sharing the Inauguration with her and it moved both of us. I'm glad we experienced it together. Later in the day, my dad left me a voice message proclaiming, "Hail to the chief! Hail to the chief!" Good people, my mom and dad. My lefty ways come from directly from them, thank goodness!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Urgent: Molotov
My most favorite, raging Mexican band Molotov is coming to town and I am torn. Should I pay an outrageous $45 for a ticket through Ticketmaster? Or should I take my chances on a $32 ticket at the door? What if they sell out??!!!
Another way in would be to write a concert review. I am contacting and/or pitching everyone I know, but the question is: should I wait and see if I can work the event, or should I buck up and pay for the peace of mind of knowing that my ticket is in hand? (I am pretty good at picking up last-minute tickets through Craigslist or at the venue the night of the show, so those are other options.)
I have seen no publicity for this tour except for an ad in the LA Weekly. I can't believe it! Followers of my previous blog will know that Molotov blew my mind when I saw them live in Guadalajara in May. I expect this show will sell out, as they don't come to L.A. very often. They're going a whole U.S. tour too! New York, Atlanta, D.C., New Orleans, Nashville -- all the big music towns.
I encourage everyone to see Molotov live! They rock the "f" out.
Another way in would be to write a concert review. I am contacting and/or pitching everyone I know, but the question is: should I wait and see if I can work the event, or should I buck up and pay for the peace of mind of knowing that my ticket is in hand? (I am pretty good at picking up last-minute tickets through Craigslist or at the venue the night of the show, so those are other options.)
I have seen no publicity for this tour except for an ad in the LA Weekly. I can't believe it! Followers of my previous blog will know that Molotov blew my mind when I saw them live in Guadalajara in May. I expect this show will sell out, as they don't come to L.A. very often. They're going a whole U.S. tour too! New York, Atlanta, D.C., New Orleans, Nashville -- all the big music towns.
I encourage everyone to see Molotov live! They rock the "f" out.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Yoga Works worked me
It's a new year and I need to get back on the yoga train. I exercise a couple of times a week but I mostly jog, leaving my poor little muscles tight and keeping me vulnerable to headaches. I used to go to yoga twice a week but now I'm lucky if I go once every three weeks. A lot of this has to do with location: there are very few Iyengar yoga classes in the South Bay. There are a few decent yoga classes but nothing rivaling Iyengar taught by Marla and Paul at Yoga Works. Yoga is also expensive. It is not a discipline for the unemployed.
Now that I'm earning a little bit of money, I thought it was time to throw down for a proper Iyengar class at Yoga Works. There's a studio not too far from my current office and a class at my level happens every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday at 6:15. I scouted out the location at lunch time today because I'd be rushing to make the class after work. I prepaid my 20 dollars to avoid having to wait when I got there.
I dashed out of work at 6 on the dot, fought more traffic than there was a lunch, and ended up parking at a public lot instead of street parking like I did earlier in the day.
I paid $3 for parking after my perfectly decent class. Then I realized I could have used my KCRW discount. Then I was mad. I had just paid $23 for 90 minutes of stretching. That is too much. Not just because I'm unemployed, that is too much in general. There were at least 10 people in my class, which means the studio cleared more than $200. The instructor can't earn more than $100 and we were just one of a couple of classes being conducted at that hour.
Yoga is supposed to be spiritual and beneficial but in L.A., it's for wealthy residents. For all of Yoga Works' preaching, they do not give anyone a break. I asked for the new student discount since I hadn't taken a class in a least a year and a half but they said "no." I could have bought a series of 10 classes for $150 but it's not like I have $150 at my disposal either.
A welcoming yoga studio in Long Beach called Free Spirit Yoga costs $15 a class and $11 if you buy a series of 10 classes. That is much more reasonable and in the end, I'd rather give my money to an independently-owned studio than the corporate machine known as Yoga Works. And since running is free, I'll probably continue to do more of that than anything else.
Now that I'm earning a little bit of money, I thought it was time to throw down for a proper Iyengar class at Yoga Works. There's a studio not too far from my current office and a class at my level happens every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday at 6:15. I scouted out the location at lunch time today because I'd be rushing to make the class after work. I prepaid my 20 dollars to avoid having to wait when I got there.
I dashed out of work at 6 on the dot, fought more traffic than there was a lunch, and ended up parking at a public lot instead of street parking like I did earlier in the day.
I paid $3 for parking after my perfectly decent class. Then I realized I could have used my KCRW discount. Then I was mad. I had just paid $23 for 90 minutes of stretching. That is too much. Not just because I'm unemployed, that is too much in general. There were at least 10 people in my class, which means the studio cleared more than $200. The instructor can't earn more than $100 and we were just one of a couple of classes being conducted at that hour.
Yoga is supposed to be spiritual and beneficial but in L.A., it's for wealthy residents. For all of Yoga Works' preaching, they do not give anyone a break. I asked for the new student discount since I hadn't taken a class in a least a year and a half but they said "no." I could have bought a series of 10 classes for $150 but it's not like I have $150 at my disposal either.
A welcoming yoga studio in Long Beach called Free Spirit Yoga costs $15 a class and $11 if you buy a series of 10 classes. That is much more reasonable and in the end, I'd rather give my money to an independently-owned studio than the corporate machine known as Yoga Works. And since running is free, I'll probably continue to do more of that than anything else.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Work And The New Year
Today was my first day at my new temp job at the Hollywood Reporter. I am a web editor, which means I copy-edit, post stories and pictures to the web, write headlines and pick up the slack where ever the staff needs it. Training went slowly today but I managed to post two music stories and crop a couple of photos. The office uses Macs so a simple thing like opening a new web browser on Firefox takes some thought on my PC-trained-brain. It's not so bad though: it's for 30 hours a week, Tuesday-Friday, and I get paid more for 30 hours there than I did for 40+ hours as a freelancer with my old company. I came back from my travels swearing I was through with entertainment but I couldn't turn down this opportunity. We'll see what happens with it -- at the very least, I am learning new web skills that will help me down the road.
The most noteworthy happening of the day occurred on my lunch break. There's a "park" behind my office building with tables and benches and greenery. There's an identical "park" behind the building next door and that's where I decided to sit because the sun was hitting its benches.
There were three strollers and three nannies already camped out at the bench area when I arrived. I nodded "hello" when I approached and sat myself at the one vacant bench left. These nannies all spoke Spanish and all had young Anglo charges. One lady excused herself soon after I arrived but the two others carried on with conversations about potty training, their bosses, and the English words for various berries. I minded my own business until one of the kids did the most precious thing. His caretaker was feeding him berries and one did not suit his fancy. He exclaimed, "No sirve!" cracking up the ladies and myself.
"No sirve" roughly translates to "it doesn't work" or "it's no good." That little kid is more bilingual than I am! I would never had thought to say that even though it was exactly the right thing to say. The nannies laughed and laughed and laughed at the boy's ability to express himself so succinctly. It was cute. That little boy understood everything his nanny was saying to him in Spanish and could answer back in Spanish too. If only my brain worked that way!
I did get to practice Spanish over the holidays with my relatives from Mexico City. I was not as good as I was this summer but it did come back to me a bit. After hearing me speak to my cousins, one relative noted that my Spanish had improved quite a bit since returning to L.A. That's all I can wish for.
Christmas and New Year's was all about the family. My dad was in town from Gig Harbor, Washington, the Mexican relatives were staying at the house, and my sister was in town from Atlanta. There were birthdays, get-togethers, Christmas Eve, shopping, field trips, and more gatherings all revolving around the family. I went up to LA only once in three weeks, the rest of the time was spent down here driving people around and hosting events. Busy but fun.
The last event we hosted was my mom's 70th birthday brunch on Sunday. There were at least 40 people here but things went smoothly with catered posole, rice, beans, and enchiladas. Lots of desserts and mimosas too! My mom is a lovely lady and friends and relatives came out to wish her the best. It was moving and worth it.
The most noteworthy happening of the day occurred on my lunch break. There's a "park" behind my office building with tables and benches and greenery. There's an identical "park" behind the building next door and that's where I decided to sit because the sun was hitting its benches.
There were three strollers and three nannies already camped out at the bench area when I arrived. I nodded "hello" when I approached and sat myself at the one vacant bench left. These nannies all spoke Spanish and all had young Anglo charges. One lady excused herself soon after I arrived but the two others carried on with conversations about potty training, their bosses, and the English words for various berries. I minded my own business until one of the kids did the most precious thing. His caretaker was feeding him berries and one did not suit his fancy. He exclaimed, "No sirve!" cracking up the ladies and myself.
"No sirve" roughly translates to "it doesn't work" or "it's no good." That little kid is more bilingual than I am! I would never had thought to say that even though it was exactly the right thing to say. The nannies laughed and laughed and laughed at the boy's ability to express himself so succinctly. It was cute. That little boy understood everything his nanny was saying to him in Spanish and could answer back in Spanish too. If only my brain worked that way!
I did get to practice Spanish over the holidays with my relatives from Mexico City. I was not as good as I was this summer but it did come back to me a bit. After hearing me speak to my cousins, one relative noted that my Spanish had improved quite a bit since returning to L.A. That's all I can wish for.
Christmas and New Year's was all about the family. My dad was in town from Gig Harbor, Washington, the Mexican relatives were staying at the house, and my sister was in town from Atlanta. There were birthdays, get-togethers, Christmas Eve, shopping, field trips, and more gatherings all revolving around the family. I went up to LA only once in three weeks, the rest of the time was spent down here driving people around and hosting events. Busy but fun.
The last event we hosted was my mom's 70th birthday brunch on Sunday. There were at least 40 people here but things went smoothly with catered posole, rice, beans, and enchiladas. Lots of desserts and mimosas too! My mom is a lovely lady and friends and relatives came out to wish her the best. It was moving and worth it.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
El Crisis y Disneylandia
The economic crisis has hit Disneyland. I thought the "Happiest Place On Earth" was recession proof until last Sunday when I went to the "Magic Kingdom" with three cousins from Mexico City. Traces of the crisis (pronounced "cree-seas" in Spanish) were everywhere, from the lower admission cost to the manageable lines.
The ticket price was our first indication that things were not all rosy at Disneylandia. Instead of the 90-something dollars the website cited for adult admission, our tickets were only $69 each. (When I say "only" I mean "only" in the sense that I had been prepared to fork over a hundred dollars for a day at an over-crowded, overrated money sucker.) My cousins got in for two dollars less because of their senior status and we were all pleased by the surprise rate cut.
The lines were another sure indication that all is not well with the world. We waited 10-15 minutes for most rides and 30 minutes at the more coveted Indiana Jones and Space Mountain. Five minutes for It's A Small World? It is possible! Only half capacity at the Tiki Tiki Room? Yes! This actually made the visit more pleasant for me, as I had started the day dreading long lines and lack of private space. It was the Sunday before Christmas, after all, and I figured the weekend was the worst time for Anaheim. Not so.
I enjoyed my trip to Disneyland. Indiana Jones was a pretty decent attraction and the Christmas decorations covering the park were pretty, especially in It's A Small World and in New Orleans Square. I laughed and screamed my way through the ever-reliable Space Mountain and was impressed by the animatronics of Pirates of the Caribbean, including its spot-on Johnny Depp/Jack Sparrow character.
I was pleased that Disneyland has caught on that they can't totally gouge people for money like they used to. Who's going to pay $90 for Disneyland when you can get into Knott's Berry Farm or Universal Studios for half that price? It's still a total rip-off and they should be ashamed for charging a family of four $260 to get in, but at least we happened upon the Magic Kingdom when its luster is as faded as America's.
The ticket price was our first indication that things were not all rosy at Disneylandia. Instead of the 90-something dollars the website cited for adult admission, our tickets were only $69 each. (When I say "only" I mean "only" in the sense that I had been prepared to fork over a hundred dollars for a day at an over-crowded, overrated money sucker.) My cousins got in for two dollars less because of their senior status and we were all pleased by the surprise rate cut.
The lines were another sure indication that all is not well with the world. We waited 10-15 minutes for most rides and 30 minutes at the more coveted Indiana Jones and Space Mountain. Five minutes for It's A Small World? It is possible! Only half capacity at the Tiki Tiki Room? Yes! This actually made the visit more pleasant for me, as I had started the day dreading long lines and lack of private space. It was the Sunday before Christmas, after all, and I figured the weekend was the worst time for Anaheim. Not so.
I enjoyed my trip to Disneyland. Indiana Jones was a pretty decent attraction and the Christmas decorations covering the park were pretty, especially in It's A Small World and in New Orleans Square. I laughed and screamed my way through the ever-reliable Space Mountain and was impressed by the animatronics of Pirates of the Caribbean, including its spot-on Johnny Depp/Jack Sparrow character.
I was pleased that Disneyland has caught on that they can't totally gouge people for money like they used to. Who's going to pay $90 for Disneyland when you can get into Knott's Berry Farm or Universal Studios for half that price? It's still a total rip-off and they should be ashamed for charging a family of four $260 to get in, but at least we happened upon the Magic Kingdom when its luster is as faded as America's.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Riding The Long Beach Loop
Every first Thursday of the month, three Long Beach bars coordinate an event called the Long Beach Loop. For $10, riders are shuttled on a red double decker bus from Alex's Bar to the Prospector to the Pike and back to Alex's Bar. The $10 pays for transportation and cover charges at all three locales, which all have bands playing. It costs $5 to get into the bars if you're not on the Bus. The Loop has been going on for four months now.
I accidentally joined the party this past Thursday with my friends Peter & Valerie and their friend Scott. Peter wanted to see a San Antonio band called Girl In A Coma that he'd discovered at South By Southwest. They were playing at Alex's Bar and the plan was to eat and meet at his house and then trek on over.
We arrived at the bar around 10pm and discovered that the band wasn't going on until 12:30. Oy! What else is there to do but drink at that point? We had whiskeys but most of the crowd was stocking up on the 24 ounce Tecates that were on special for $3. Those same Tecate tall boys sell for $2.25 at Albertson's, so it really is a deal.
Alex's Bar is located on a desolate stretch of Anaheim Blvd., an industrial street I usually avoid at night. You can't really see the bar from the street and you have to enter through the alley. It's dark and red inside like Hollywood or Eastside bars but has a definite local flavor.
The crowd is mostly overweight Latinos dressed like modern Rockabillys. Lesbian couples are well represented as are Long Beach hipsters. But the difference between Long Beach hipsters and Eastside ones is that the Long Beach crowd doesn't cop an attitude. People are polite. They stand back to let you pass or step aside when you need to get to the bar for a drink.
We had seats at the bar and at one point I left my cocktail to go outside. There was a woman sitting in my chair when I returned, and when I reached past her for my drink, she apologized for sitting there and offered to move. This does not happen in Hollywood.
Bella Novela and Girl In A Coma were on the bill as was a good DJ who kept the mood light between sets. Because of a dimly lit stage with a red velvet backdrop, it looked like the poor bands were playing in the dark. No spotlights whatsoever. Nevertheless, opening act and Long Beach locals Bella Novela rocked the house with their Siouxsie Sioux-like vocals and synthesizers, and girl rockers Girl In A Coma blasted through their loud set.
My group was the oldest in the place for sure but no one cared or looked twice. I even ran into my sister's niece Maggie (my brother-in-law's niece) in the bathroom. Maggie is a super cute 21-year-old and if Alex's Bar is cool enough for her, it's definitely good enough for me. I will be back -- just not by myself because it really is in a sketchy neighborhood.
I accidentally joined the party this past Thursday with my friends Peter & Valerie and their friend Scott. Peter wanted to see a San Antonio band called Girl In A Coma that he'd discovered at South By Southwest. They were playing at Alex's Bar and the plan was to eat and meet at his house and then trek on over.
We arrived at the bar around 10pm and discovered that the band wasn't going on until 12:30. Oy! What else is there to do but drink at that point? We had whiskeys but most of the crowd was stocking up on the 24 ounce Tecates that were on special for $3. Those same Tecate tall boys sell for $2.25 at Albertson's, so it really is a deal.
Alex's Bar is located on a desolate stretch of Anaheim Blvd., an industrial street I usually avoid at night. You can't really see the bar from the street and you have to enter through the alley. It's dark and red inside like Hollywood or Eastside bars but has a definite local flavor.
The crowd is mostly overweight Latinos dressed like modern Rockabillys. Lesbian couples are well represented as are Long Beach hipsters. But the difference between Long Beach hipsters and Eastside ones is that the Long Beach crowd doesn't cop an attitude. People are polite. They stand back to let you pass or step aside when you need to get to the bar for a drink.
We had seats at the bar and at one point I left my cocktail to go outside. There was a woman sitting in my chair when I returned, and when I reached past her for my drink, she apologized for sitting there and offered to move. This does not happen in Hollywood.
Bella Novela and Girl In A Coma were on the bill as was a good DJ who kept the mood light between sets. Because of a dimly lit stage with a red velvet backdrop, it looked like the poor bands were playing in the dark. No spotlights whatsoever. Nevertheless, opening act and Long Beach locals Bella Novela rocked the house with their Siouxsie Sioux-like vocals and synthesizers, and girl rockers Girl In A Coma blasted through their loud set.
My group was the oldest in the place for sure but no one cared or looked twice. I even ran into my sister's niece Maggie (my brother-in-law's niece) in the bathroom. Maggie is a super cute 21-year-old and if Alex's Bar is cool enough for her, it's definitely good enough for me. I will be back -- just not by myself because it really is in a sketchy neighborhood.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Tailgating Is Great Sport
Tailgating is one of my favorite sports. It goes hand-in-hand with football and doesn't require much skill other than drink mixing, munchie consumption, and locating decent bathrooms.
I tailgate once a year with my family for a Notre Dame football game (my sisters are both Notre Dame graduates). In 2007, this meant renting an SUV and partying on the golf course adjacent to the Rose Bowl for the Notre Dame/UCLA game. This Thanksgiving weekend, the occasion was the Notre Dame/USC game at the Coliseum.
The Coliseum is a lovely venue but it's tough to coordinate a tailgate because it costs 40-100 dollars to park anywhere near the stadium and 25 dollars to squeeze into a parking garage that doesn't permit pre-game activities of any sort. Access to the prime parking areas are limited to those USC super fans who pay $2500 a year for membership to the Cardinal and Gold Club and get nice parking spots as a reward. For the rest of us, it's all about finding a nice patch of grass or friendly Trojans to party with. We opted for the latter and spent the afternoon with our longtime hairdresser Yvette and her USC clan.
Yvette has been cutting hair for our family for years. She married a mega USC fan a couple of years ago and invited us to join them at their tailgater. The party was ideally located across from Tunnel 19 and was easy to find thanks to its high-flying American, Marine, and USC flags.
It was a serious spread: full bar with top shelf liquor, salty and sweet snacks, burgers, chicken, sausage, and all the fixings. Our eight-person group put only a small dent in the amount of food and booze they had there. The other SC fans throwing the tailgater were in great spirits and quite welcoming despite us cheering for the opposing team. I attribute this either to the flow of alcohol or the fact that Notre Dame was no match for SC this year and we all knew it.
Tailgating puts people in a good mood -- revelry replaces rivalry when drinks are flowing. The scene is also the backdrop for unexpected reunions: In the women's bathroom, I ran into a gal I was a cheerleader with in high school; my mom saw a high school friend she hadn't talked to since they graduated 50 years ago; and one of my sisters met up with both work friends and fellow ND alums.
You don't even have to like football to enjoy a tailgater. Just show up, have some food and drink, and enjoy. It makes a rout like the one Notre Dame suffered much more tolerable.
I tailgate once a year with my family for a Notre Dame football game (my sisters are both Notre Dame graduates). In 2007, this meant renting an SUV and partying on the golf course adjacent to the Rose Bowl for the Notre Dame/UCLA game. This Thanksgiving weekend, the occasion was the Notre Dame/USC game at the Coliseum.
The Coliseum is a lovely venue but it's tough to coordinate a tailgate because it costs 40-100 dollars to park anywhere near the stadium and 25 dollars to squeeze into a parking garage that doesn't permit pre-game activities of any sort. Access to the prime parking areas are limited to those USC super fans who pay $2500 a year for membership to the Cardinal and Gold Club and get nice parking spots as a reward. For the rest of us, it's all about finding a nice patch of grass or friendly Trojans to party with. We opted for the latter and spent the afternoon with our longtime hairdresser Yvette and her USC clan.
Yvette has been cutting hair for our family for years. She married a mega USC fan a couple of years ago and invited us to join them at their tailgater. The party was ideally located across from Tunnel 19 and was easy to find thanks to its high-flying American, Marine, and USC flags.
It was a serious spread: full bar with top shelf liquor, salty and sweet snacks, burgers, chicken, sausage, and all the fixings. Our eight-person group put only a small dent in the amount of food and booze they had there. The other SC fans throwing the tailgater were in great spirits and quite welcoming despite us cheering for the opposing team. I attribute this either to the flow of alcohol or the fact that Notre Dame was no match for SC this year and we all knew it.
Tailgating puts people in a good mood -- revelry replaces rivalry when drinks are flowing. The scene is also the backdrop for unexpected reunions: In the women's bathroom, I ran into a gal I was a cheerleader with in high school; my mom saw a high school friend she hadn't talked to since they graduated 50 years ago; and one of my sisters met up with both work friends and fellow ND alums.
You don't even have to like football to enjoy a tailgater. Just show up, have some food and drink, and enjoy. It makes a rout like the one Notre Dame suffered much more tolerable.
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