I am posting the third video of the series, because it's such a visual trip. To see the eyes of the yogis as they practice is quite a thing. It turns out that the first two of the last practitioners depicted are heroes of mine. They all rock, of course, but these two gentlemen I have a connection with from back in the day. Here is the list from the description of the video:
1) His Holiness Dudjom Rinpoche, head of the Nyingma lineage in India
B) Venerable Kalu Rinpoche, great realized master in the Kagyu lineage.
C) His Holiness, the 16th Karmapa! The head of the Karma Kagyu lineage.
I think it's been too long since we've had a good sighting of a Yeti, or Sasquatch in the news. It seemed they were popping up all the time in my childhood (when I was planning to be a Cryptozoologist for a 'living'), I miss them. Hell, it was enough in the public consciousness that the 6-million dollar man fought him.
I thought I'd remedy the situation by posting this video filmed recently in Poland. Here is an excerpt from the Austrian times article.
Piotr Kowalski, 27, from Warsaw was on a walking holiday in the Tatra mountains in Poland when he saw a mountain goat on one of the slopes. As he started filming, his attention was suddenly grabbed by the Yeti creature emerging from behind some rocks.
"I saw this huge ape-like form hiding behind the rocks. When I saw it it was like being struck by a thunderbolt," he told the daily Superexpress.
"Coming from Warsaw, I never really believed the local stories of a wild mountain ape-man roaming the slopes. But, now I do."
Driving with a friend tonight, the musical conversation somehow turned to good punk. He's younger than me by at least 10 years, so I asked if he was familiar with The Pretenders first album, or any of the harder songs off of it. He was not, and this post was born.
The first album (self titled) by The Pretenders has something like 6 or 7 hits on it. Their hard-driving, punk-inspired songs really caught my attention at the time, more so than the good but over-played hits. Their drummer had a fast, syncopated style that I really enjoyed.
Here is one example of these "harder" songs from their early years, The Wait, caught live in 1984. Surprisingly good concert footage for Youtube:
Chrissie Hynde is an absolute phenomenon if you really look at the span of her career, her stage presence, her lyrics, and the range of styles she successfully mastered.
I can't let this post go by without sharing another song that exemplifies the qualities of my favorite early Pretenders songs. Tattooed Love Boys at first listen simply sounds like a raunchy song about rough sex, but on closer examination is much darker than that (as her announcement in the beginning of this performance exposes).
Although there is much much more to explore with this band, Chrissie, and their various styles and rebirths -- I'll leave this to these early songs that my younger friends may not have been aware of.
I knew Alex back in The Day, when I was a free-range bohemian living in a VW bus in Bezerkeley.
Now, she's a master pickler, her shop is called the Cultured Pickle Shop. I wish she had her shop in Portland because I love real cultured veggies. I'll let the video speak for itself, great stuff.
I dig this song. More specifically, I dig this guitar hook -- simply awesome.
I blame my father's obsession with the rock/blues scene in my younger years. Something about the music is just so straight up and guttural, it gets me every time. The 70's style big-guitar Gemetzel solos (i.e. noodling) isn't my thing really, but in most of their songs they keep that to a minimum.
If you want the studio version of the song, click here. I appreciate the subtleties you can catch on that version. For some visuals as well, below is the band on Letterman:
Two videos from KRON news talking about a live-time assassination game played with squirt guns. These folks are SERIOUS.
In High School, my friends and I organized exactly this type of game and created all kinds of trouble in the school. It got down to threats from the administration to transfer folks they thought were leaders if they didn't divulge information about how it was organized.
As the editor of the school paper, this became great material for me to write about. The standoff diffused, if I remember correctly, once the threat of the abuse of power article surfaced and the players agreed not to make kills inside working classrooms.
Catalina Island was a magical place when I was a kid. It look long enough to get there by boat that it was a huge deal to be able to go, and happened very rarely. I always knew it was out there -- surrounded by clear blue waters swarming with fish. The small town on the island, called Avalon, was what I would think of now as a tourist trap. But when I was little, it was the best combination of Disneyland and some small remote Spanish village.
As is usual for islands, the ecology on Catalina is very fragile, especially with its small size and large human influx. I had no idea there was an endemic species of fox on the island. According to this L.A. Times article, the native Catalina fox is making a heartening comeback after some strokes of good luck, weather-wise, and lots of effort by wildlife biologists. It's a cute little scupper.
Enjoy good news from childhood fantasy destinations,
I recently received one of those "out of the blue" emails that I occasionally get related to this blog. A nice lady from the American Association of Acupuncture & Oriental Medicine contacted me regarding my statement of "recovering electrician" in my Bio. She has electrician types in her family and wondered if there were interesting or hair raising stories associated with this phrase that I would be willing to relate.
It turns out that part of this lady's job is searching out any reference to oriental medicine or acupuncture on the web and checking out the content. My blog popped up in her search, and one thing led to another.
It is a trip to think that my few mentions of acupuncture in this blog tagged it in a way that it could possibly now be part of the national (or international) conversation about this subject. I'm sure you'd have to dig to find the blog, but this lady did, and did find me. The mind spins at how the intartubes are changing our societal discourse. I couldn't possibly imagine trying to catalog or quantify the amount of change and novelty that is being produced this way.
Here is part of my long-winded response to her query, for those of you who are interested:
So, the "recovering electrician" comment is a tongue-in-cheek statement, because I'm changing careers due to really not liking that job much.
However, there is more to the story, and since it seems you (look to be) a health care practitioner, I'll relate it.
When I still had awesome Union insurance, I went to a naturopath/acupuncturist here in Portland named Bernie Bayard. He's phenomenal. He used to joke that he was using me as a guinea pig for checking out the effects of multiple electrical shocks on the human system. Since I was primarily a service electrician, I almost always worked in inhabited houses -- doing repair and trouble shooting. That kind of work is almost always done hot, because it's less disruptive to the client and for troubleshooting, it's just way more informative. I got shocked as often as once a month. [for those of you concerned about this statement, know that it was almost always "small" and in my hand only, not big electrocutions going through my torso or anything]
Back in the day, in the 30's, electricians used to test circuits with their fingers. Even the national electrical code had instructions for how to do this. Many of these men ended their life with a severe palsey, because their nerves were literally fried. Since nerves are our electrical conductors in the body, I believe that's where the resistance is least and so when we get shocked they take the brunt of the force. That's my non-scientific opinion of course.
As for funny stories, I have so many that my wife wants me to write a book of short stories (named "Electrical Shorts" of course) about the bizarre, scary, and humorous events that happened during my career as a service electrician.
Enjoy the novel connections that seemingly harmless online activity can produce,
The first band that inspired me in this genre was the Gear Daddies. I ran into them during a streak of loving Minneapolis (and surrounding areas) bands, such as The Replacements , Husker Du , and Soul Asylum . Of course you youngin's who read this blog (you know who you are) will have NO idea of what I'm talking about, because it was eight MEEELION years ago, but screw it I don't care if it dates me I loved these bands and they hold a special place in my heart.
Anyway, Dale made me reminisce about these bands and now I must post some videos. This first one is an appearance the Gear Daddies made on the Letterman show. This must have been the absolute height of their career at the time. They're playing a middle-of-the-road single (in my opinion), but the sound and video quality were good, so I chose this video.
I was thinking, how the hell am I going to mellow out/calm down tomorrow during the elections. I'm nervous as hell this thing's going to go sideways (read: be stolen yet again), so my anxiety is starting to rev up. Music -- that's a good start, that will help. But what music.
Frankly, the first song that came to mind was Amandrai, by Ali Farka Toure and Ry Cooder, from the album Talking Timbuktu. But I couldn't find a video I liked (though this one ain't too bad). It's just soooo damned groovy, and mellow and strolling.
Then it struck me. Stevie Ray Vaughn. He will be able to help me.
So here he is, playing one of my favorite songs of all time, Voodoo Chile (Slight Return). A song seared into my synapses prenatally, then again during high school. Stevie does it up right.
Enjoy music's palliative and cathartic release on election day,
Yuri sent me this link from The Urban Recluse about words from other languages that have no direct English analogy. There is a name for them, and I can't remember it for the life of me. Although some of the definitions below are thin (Duende, for example, which I've studied quite a bit), they are still workable. To find more examples like these opens my mind in a pleasant and invigorating way. I have copy/pasted the list below.
I've studied many of these kinds of words in the course of my writing (career? -- avocation?) life, and it has always been enormously and surprisingly eye-opening for me. The cliche example of how different language and thought can be culture-to-culture (and, apparently erroneous one) is all the words the Eskimo use to describe snow.
Even though I normally lose the word after a time, the concepts tend to stay with me. I remember a concept from a Hindi word that means roughly, "the importance of small talk in a community." Small talk is sometimes scoffed at in our culture as a waste of time, but in a different culture it is seen as necessary and healthy -- it is understood in an entirely different way.
Words like this can be a direct illustration of how radically different a world view cultures and language create -- deep, fundamental beliefs and perspectives. I have had the experience, while studying some of these types of words, of bumping into a belief that I never realized was [simply] cultural, and took as fundamentally true. I could then question that belief. It can be mind blowing to digest if you are in the right head space.
Enjoy.
These words do not have direct equivalents in English. Some of them would definitely be useful for us English-speakers, what do you think?
1. Waldeinsamkeit (German): the feeling of being alone in the woods
2. Ilunga (Tshiluba, Congo): a person who is ready to forgive any abuse for the first time, to tolerate it a second time, but never a third time
3. Taarradhin (Arabic): a way of resolving a problem without anyone losing face (not the same as our concept of a compromise - everyone wins)
4. Litost (Czech): a state of torment created by the sudden sight of one’s own misery
5. Esprit de l’escalier (French): a witty remark that occurs to you too late, literally on the way down the stairs…
6. Meraki (Greek): doing something with soul, creativity, or love
7. Yoko meshi (Japanese): literally ‘a meal eaten sideways’, referring to the peculiar stress induced by speaking a foreign language:
8. Duende (Spanish): a climactic show of spirit in a performance or work of art, which might be fulfilled in flamenco dancing, or bull-fighting, etc.
9. Guanxi (Mandarin): in traditional Chinese society, you would build up good guanxi by giving gifts to people, taking them to dinner, or doing them a favour, but you can also use up your gianxi by asking for a favour to be repaid.
10. Pochemuchka (Russian): a person who asks a lot of questions
11. Tingo (Pascuense language of Easter Island): to borrow objects one by one from a neighbour's house until there is nothing left
12. Radioukacz (Polish): a person who worked as a telegraphist for the resistance movements on the Soviet side of the Iron Curtain
13. Selathirupavar (Tamil): a word used to define a certain type of absence without official leave in face of duty
–
Of course, I’m just relying on the accuracy of online resources for this information, if you speak any of these languages please let me know if there are any errors or inaccuracies above.
OBAMA: "My friends, I am a totally unoriginal grizzled character class stereotype. I should lead the party because I have more testicular damage than that one."
MCCAIN: Yeah, well, you pal around with dark elves.
OBAMA: OH NO YOU DIDN'T.
MCCAIN: Whatever, so's your mom.
OBAMA: So's your FACE.
MCCAIN: So's your Mom's face!
HILARY: WTF you guys. Why am I playing the cleric?
MCCAIN: Hilary, we've been over this.
HILARY: No, dude. I am so sick of being the girlfriend healer. Seriously, I can't even use a sword. Fuck this noise.
KUCINICH: IM A BARD
OBAMA: That's nice.
KUCINICH: MY FAMILIAR IS A PURPLE SNOW LEOPARD
MCCAIN: Oh, Jesus. Here we go.
KUCINICH: DID I MENTION MY WIFE IS A TOTALLY BANGIN DRYAD WITH 20 CHARISMA
HILARY: C'mon you guys, I've been playing this shit since Gygax was in eighth grade. Why can't I be the party leader with the magic sword for once?
I could post the whole thing, it kills me.
Enjoy your 7th grade obsessions being used to create humor out of a scary situation,
Bp
[via The Good Reverend, photo credit in Boingboing article]
I had a couple thoughts as I went through the videos. First off, I noticed that it's all boys doing this stuff. Are girls doing all this stuff too and not filming it? Or do they lack the idiot deathwish bravado that many teen boys possess, as well as the (seemingly hard-wired) need to show off said bravado. Then I thought, did I do stupid shit like this? Of course I did.
Watching the free runners and cliff jumpers, I flashed back to my bullet-proof and invisible days. It took me a minute to find the correlate, but then it came to me -- The Wedge [see the distinct wave formation that gives this spot its name here]. It is one of the world's most famous body surfing spots, in Newport Beach California, and a Mecca for a particular clutch of adrenaline junkies.
When I was a teenager, I'd throw fins on (overly tight Churchills at the time, I didn't have the money for Vipers unfortunately), and swim out into that pounding surf over and over again for the rush of falling down the face of a wave and avoiding being beaten directly into the sand by the shore break. It was fantastic.
For some serious journalistic extravagance about bodysurfing at The Wedge, check out this Outside Online article, "The Lip Comes Down." He describes the scene much, much better than I will be able to this early in the morning. He pumps it up, of course, to make it "extreme" and exciting, but it's all true, just overly dramatized for effect.
The video below is of Matt Larson taking an enormous wave at The Wedge. Bodysurfing is hard to capture on film, and can be boring to watch if you aren't an afficionado -- the ride is slow enough that the rider is often eaten up in the whitewash most of the wave. So, it gets little attention on sports channels, etc. From the experience of the rider, however, it's a whole different animal than board surfing (hard or soft) exactly because of this immersion in the wave.
I don't know that I can express how intense the experience would be if you took this same ride -- it is somewhere between falling off the side of a cliff, flying, being tied to the back of a rampaging buffalo, and going through a spin cycle in a washing machine. And make no mistake, when the break got this big, I was on the beach and part of the crowd of admirers. I wasn't even close to this good.
For lots more footage, check out this video, which shows not only body surfers (some really excellent ones) but body boarders (much easier to see and appreciate on film).
Last but not least of the video links, here is a great compilation of Wedge Wipeouts. Awesome.
There were a small band of legends that bodysurfed at The Wedge still when I was there in High School. Here is some blatant name-dropping: I've actually met the King of the wedge-heads, Fred Simpson. I was so star-struck that although he was often at the beach when I was, I think I only talked to him and shook his hand once. What a nerd.
Enjoy flashbacks incited by the youngins in your life,
So T. and The Wife are watching Sweeney Todd right now. Whenever people are talking, and NOT SINGING, I wander into the room and it looks really great. I mean Burton knows what he's doing, the makeup and cinematography are intriguing, the sets, etc. And then, the singing starts. I just have to walk away, I literally can't stomach it.
I don't understand where this reaction comes from. It applies especially to good old American musicals, with the modern orchestration (especially the lilting flutes -- my GOD that drives me nuts). The crescendos, the singing... the whole thing makes me want to earp.
My earliest memory of this allergy is when I was in elementary school, home sick from school to be exact. I had the tube on, was flipping channels, and I saw these 4 cool gangsters walking down the street, with their collars flipped up, their hair done up -- and I sat back to watch. Suddenly, they all hit some pose, full on jazz hands, and began to sing. It was West Side Story. I ran up to the tube and turned the dial. I was appalled.
So this has been with me for somewhere around 3 decades.
I'd love to know the root of it. If I figure it out some day I'll share with ya'll.
Enjoy being a hater,
Bp
ps/addendum: This sentiment doesn't seem to apply to live musicals. Again, a mystery.
I've been watching the phrase "Friend or Foe" in my bookmarks (it's an article about crows you'll see in a few days) up on my computer for a day or so, and it made me think of the Adam and the Ants song of the same name. But -- that's not the best of their songs in my opinion, so ya'll are getting this one. Adam his'self claims it's his favorite because of the difficulty of pulling it off.
I remember that, before I saw the band on TV and realized that they had two drummers, I thought they had the most stupendous drummer of all time. It was when their first big song hit in Cali -- we used to sing it as "Stand on My Liver." Good times.
Enjoy flashbacks to a more torturous, innocent time,
What the hell kind of full-moon, dehydrated fever-dream brought this hellish curse upon my hind brain. I woke up with this in my head. When I played the video below, T. and I were just waking up, he checking his spam folder on The Wife's computer. His comment -- "you have any idea how many times I had my hair cut to this song?"
Oh the horror.
Enjoy the remnant pangs of adolescent torture, and the realization that they're finally, almost, faded into the sunset,
I grew up listening to Carlin on vinyl when my parents weren't home. I learned about "Toledo Window Box" and the 7 words you can't say on television from him. I never knew, or asked, if I was allowed to listen to these albums -- I just assumed I wasn't.
I used some of those lines throughout my elementary and high school careers. "If you're sick, go to the doctor, maan. It's not the smell it's the burning of my eyes!" Lots of mileage on those lines.
That graphic of the "absconding" fugitive below reminded me of The Specials, which reminded me of Ska, which reminded me how much I like the below song -- Mirror in the Bathroom, by The English Beat.
Enjoy stream of consciousness posts, especially when they lead to high school flashbacks by the author,
I'm a 38-year-old recent college graduate in Biology, husband, and new father, recovering from a career as an electrician. These blogs are intended for recreational use only -- any medicinal benefits are purely coincidental.
Email me with any rants, concerns or questions.
I ran into them during a streak of loving Minneapolis (and surrounding areas) bands, such as 
. But I couldn't find a video I liked (though 
