no, we didn't win big fat money at the track, yesterday. i know you all probably thought that i hadn't updated this weekend because i was busy blowing a small fortune on tacky jewelry at claire's boutique. no, that was not the case at all. we got seated behind this girl who was cruising on some kind of goof ball, and who fixed her hair every minute or so. and she was a chronic foot tapper. i almost had a fit. it was v. distracting, and my nerves were quite frayed.
i was very glad to get home, even though i didn't make any money. mom and i proceeded to watch crappy tv-- except for the shining, which scared the crap out of me, and drank hot toddies, for the frayed nerves, of course. it was a nice evening in.
recipe for hot toddies (courtesy of the future mrs. alex christman):
1.5 oz bourbon
1/4 lemon
1 T honey
5oz hot water
lather, rinse, repeat
mil besos--rmg
30 October 2005
28 October 2005
ah, the wonders of technology
so, i'm putting this database together for a lobbying firm in austin. it's all about transportation stuff, which i find horribly boring. at any rate, in my quest for more information, i've had to reasearch community service organizations in four metropolitian areas in texas. some conclusions i have reached: the lion's club needs to invest in a faster server, and include more info on their site that is actually useful. dallas has more municipalities and clubs than any one city has a right to, further cementing my intense dislike of all things dallas, except for my friends who have made the decision to live in the metroplex, and neiman marcus, of course. btw, doesn't metroplex sound like a) a really goofy wrestling move, or b) a really ginormous mall?
my faithful dog, beauregard, has some nasty gas today, which is about the only thing keeping me awake while i cut and paste phone numbers, email addresses, ect. into a word document, so i can print all the info out and dump it into access. blah, oh so boring. i feel like i'm whoring myself out for this job. which i pretty much am, since i'm mostly opposed to lobbying, and could give a crap about whether or not texdot has enough info to get the votes it wants for prop 1. i'm probably not supposed to be telling you all this, but i am, anyway.
thank God for bob marley. and earl grey tea. and my farting dog. they are helping maintain some sanity while i do what any simian with moderate dexterity could accomplish just as quickly as i can. finding out that lobbying was about as sexy as my policy job in dc was is kind of eye opening. talk about things not being what they appear to be. geeze oh man. i keep telling myself i'm not selling out for supplemental income, that i'm just collecting information. but i secretly don't believe that for a minute. i fear i am part of what my friends and i refer to as "the problem", and by that i mean special interest infiltration of our beloved/beloathed (is that a word? if not, it should be...) democracy. eww, sick out. on the other hand, i feel like the baby jesus doesn't want me to be in debt for the rest of my life, so this is ok, because i'm not doing anything against the law, his or the u s of a. i don't know. i do know that the lobby folks think i am a freaking genius and like the work i've already given them, so i guess that's good.
i'm going to the track this weekend, with the fam. it's the breeder's cup. mom and poppy have been doing their homework, so maybe we'll win some money. my grammy and i decided to avoid our homework, and follow our own method. it's highly scientific, and has paid off a number of times, large and small. we pick horses based on their names, and sometimes what color they are. and sometimes we just have a gut feeling, and bet on that horse. laugh if you want, but i made $92 on that method at the kentucky derby. so there.
the book is moving somewhat slowly, and that kind of makes me feel like a slacker. it's starting to diverge into two very separate projects. the graffitti book is my main focus, though. the other, which a few of you may have glanced at, is more of a collection of extended journal entries. i have no idea if i will do anything with that, because i don't know how readable it would be to most people. strong opinions abound in my cobwebby little brain, and i'm not sure if i spent the rest of my life trying, that i could explain everything i feel and think about the things i feel strongly about or spending time pondering. that sentence prolly doesn't make much sense, but i know what i mean.
ok, it's back to the lions' club and their freakishly slow server. i hope the kiwanis folks invested a little more in theirs...
peace out. word to your mother.
mil besos--r
my faithful dog, beauregard, has some nasty gas today, which is about the only thing keeping me awake while i cut and paste phone numbers, email addresses, ect. into a word document, so i can print all the info out and dump it into access. blah, oh so boring. i feel like i'm whoring myself out for this job. which i pretty much am, since i'm mostly opposed to lobbying, and could give a crap about whether or not texdot has enough info to get the votes it wants for prop 1. i'm probably not supposed to be telling you all this, but i am, anyway.
thank God for bob marley. and earl grey tea. and my farting dog. they are helping maintain some sanity while i do what any simian with moderate dexterity could accomplish just as quickly as i can. finding out that lobbying was about as sexy as my policy job in dc was is kind of eye opening. talk about things not being what they appear to be. geeze oh man. i keep telling myself i'm not selling out for supplemental income, that i'm just collecting information. but i secretly don't believe that for a minute. i fear i am part of what my friends and i refer to as "the problem", and by that i mean special interest infiltration of our beloved/beloathed (is that a word? if not, it should be...) democracy. eww, sick out. on the other hand, i feel like the baby jesus doesn't want me to be in debt for the rest of my life, so this is ok, because i'm not doing anything against the law, his or the u s of a. i don't know. i do know that the lobby folks think i am a freaking genius and like the work i've already given them, so i guess that's good.
i'm going to the track this weekend, with the fam. it's the breeder's cup. mom and poppy have been doing their homework, so maybe we'll win some money. my grammy and i decided to avoid our homework, and follow our own method. it's highly scientific, and has paid off a number of times, large and small. we pick horses based on their names, and sometimes what color they are. and sometimes we just have a gut feeling, and bet on that horse. laugh if you want, but i made $92 on that method at the kentucky derby. so there.
the book is moving somewhat slowly, and that kind of makes me feel like a slacker. it's starting to diverge into two very separate projects. the graffitti book is my main focus, though. the other, which a few of you may have glanced at, is more of a collection of extended journal entries. i have no idea if i will do anything with that, because i don't know how readable it would be to most people. strong opinions abound in my cobwebby little brain, and i'm not sure if i spent the rest of my life trying, that i could explain everything i feel and think about the things i feel strongly about or spending time pondering. that sentence prolly doesn't make much sense, but i know what i mean.
ok, it's back to the lions' club and their freakishly slow server. i hope the kiwanis folks invested a little more in theirs...
peace out. word to your mother.
mil besos--r
26 October 2005
what i really meant to say was...
in the meantime
in between time
there's a fine line between
where you are and where you want to be
on the flip-side
in the shadow
there's a memory of
who you were and who you want to be
on the other hand
in the spotlight
there's a stage lit up
for who you are to all the rest of the world
in the middle, in the twilight, in the gloaming
that's where you get it right.
in the learning, in the burning, in the wrestling
with the angel with all your might.
in the leaving, in the weaving, in the weeping
of the tears you were once too brave to cry
in the trying, in the dying, in the running
of the great life race you just know you can win
you just might find the courage to begin, again.
across the fine lines on your face
across the stage lights in your eyes
across the oceans of the tears that you've cried
across the barrens of your mind
across the wastelands of your heart
across the plenty and the passions and the fears that you hold dear
there's still the change to make it somehow right.
in between time
there's a fine line between
where you are and where you want to be
on the flip-side
in the shadow
there's a memory of
who you were and who you want to be
on the other hand
in the spotlight
there's a stage lit up
for who you are to all the rest of the world
in the middle, in the twilight, in the gloaming
that's where you get it right.
in the learning, in the burning, in the wrestling
with the angel with all your might.
in the leaving, in the weaving, in the weeping
of the tears you were once too brave to cry
in the trying, in the dying, in the running
of the great life race you just know you can win
you just might find the courage to begin, again.
across the fine lines on your face
across the stage lights in your eyes
across the oceans of the tears that you've cried
across the barrens of your mind
across the wastelands of your heart
across the plenty and the passions and the fears that you hold dear
there's still the change to make it somehow right.
things that vex
some people write about things they like. not me. here's some stuff that drives me nuts...
deer proof fences
the "new lynyrd skynyrd" and the "new doors". also, the "new inxs" and the idea of a new janis joplin.
allergies
when your feet get all cold at night, and you can't warm them up unless you sleep with the heating pad on them. and then you wake up, and they're all sweaty and gross, and you can't go back to sleep because you feel like you've just been in your running shoes.
soaring gas prices
lying politicians
lying media pundits
third world debt
making the effort to take time to send real emails to multiple people, and only getting like two back. nothing like that to make one feel like a total social leper and world's dullest/least favorite/most mediocre friend.
the death penalty
child abuse
pornography
meth
the fact that pot is illegal
waiting for the one phone call you really want and never getting it
trying to go to sleep and not being able to turn off your brain
thinking of the right thing to say two minutes after it would have been appropriate to say
sleep depravation
wasting water
hummers, h2, and the even dumber h3--basically any car that gets less than 15 miles to the gallon
poachers
hurricanes, unless they come in a take-home glass from pat o'briens
misplacing $5
misplacing $50
postage stamps and the fact that they used to only cost like 20 cents when i was little
crappy books
crappy movies
crappy music--like nashville country or britany spears, pretty much anything top 40
people who say they don't like to read
people who say they don't watch the news
the fact that i really do like vh1
the fact that if there is a celine dion song on the radio, i am almost compelled to stop and listen, and sometimes, sing along
traffic
people who don't pick up after their dogs
the way a copy machine smells right before it decides to die
running out of toilet paper and not having anyone to go get more, or having anyone in the next stall you can ask for help
walking into a bathroom and hearing someone throwing up their toenails
cheap vodka
cheap tequila
cheap watercolors and bad brushes
bono NOT winning the nobel peace prize
days when you desperately want to have something good to say, but know that you really just need a) a good cry, and b) a good bitch session.
wonder which today is...
all is well, just a blah day.
mil besos--rmg
deer proof fences
the "new lynyrd skynyrd" and the "new doors". also, the "new inxs" and the idea of a new janis joplin.
allergies
when your feet get all cold at night, and you can't warm them up unless you sleep with the heating pad on them. and then you wake up, and they're all sweaty and gross, and you can't go back to sleep because you feel like you've just been in your running shoes.
soaring gas prices
lying politicians
lying media pundits
third world debt
making the effort to take time to send real emails to multiple people, and only getting like two back. nothing like that to make one feel like a total social leper and world's dullest/least favorite/most mediocre friend.
the death penalty
child abuse
pornography
meth
the fact that pot is illegal
waiting for the one phone call you really want and never getting it
trying to go to sleep and not being able to turn off your brain
thinking of the right thing to say two minutes after it would have been appropriate to say
sleep depravation
wasting water
hummers, h2, and the even dumber h3--basically any car that gets less than 15 miles to the gallon
poachers
hurricanes, unless they come in a take-home glass from pat o'briens
misplacing $5
misplacing $50
postage stamps and the fact that they used to only cost like 20 cents when i was little
crappy books
crappy movies
crappy music--like nashville country or britany spears, pretty much anything top 40
people who say they don't like to read
people who say they don't watch the news
the fact that i really do like vh1
the fact that if there is a celine dion song on the radio, i am almost compelled to stop and listen, and sometimes, sing along
traffic
people who don't pick up after their dogs
the way a copy machine smells right before it decides to die
running out of toilet paper and not having anyone to go get more, or having anyone in the next stall you can ask for help
walking into a bathroom and hearing someone throwing up their toenails
cheap vodka
cheap tequila
cheap watercolors and bad brushes
bono NOT winning the nobel peace prize
days when you desperately want to have something good to say, but know that you really just need a) a good cry, and b) a good bitch session.
wonder which today is...
all is well, just a blah day.
mil besos--rmg
19 October 2005
you have no idea the power of the dark side, friends and neighbors. no idea, at all. the shear force of this kid's gas is more impressive than any light saber known in the cosmos. and by the way, the helmet has sound effects. oh yes, he can breathe just like darth vader. i'm waiting for him to try and fit his trumpet under that thing.
another day, another dollar
this was a long day. granted, i did get a power nap this afternoon, for which i am profoundly grateful, but it was still a long day. i had lunch with erin and max this afternoon, to discuss college conferece. i think it went quite well, up until a point. ( i should point out that i shamelessly rip off other people's funny material ALL THE TIME. i'm funny, but only moderately so. i stop just short of actually co-opting other people's personal stories, and adding my name in the right places. even that is hard for me. i am a humor mercenary.) so, my friend mike (who's wife's blog you can read, and who's child you can adore @ prolly.blogs.com) is a tukong student. tukong is a martial art form that is very difficult, and very intense. i give mike grief about it sometimes, because students of tukong are referred to as "special combat warriors", and from his discription and my over-active imagination, i assume his master looks like a human verson of shredder from the teen age mutant ninja turtles. there's also a lot of talk about the "death blow", which gives a lot of street cred to just about anything. at any rate... i'm sitting at lunch with erin and max, and we move from talking about college conference into talking about summer camp staff, and how the college kids can sometimes have a very crappy attitude. we talked about being the enforcer, etc. to which i replied that i should come up to camp training to scare the kids. i could carry around a cigar, make threats, carry around a riding crop, and look mean for a week, kind of like marlon wayan's character "major pain". i then made the comment, "well, you know, i am a special combat warrior" which, considering the topic at hand, was a total non-sequitor. max laughed so hard that he spewed dr pepper out of his nose. and then he threw up a little bit. erin and i immediately evacuated the taco cabana patio for the safety of my car, max adjourned to the men's room. seriously, i am not making this up. it was quite funny. in case you were wondering, my return button is on the blink right now, and i just don't feel like rebooting and losing this post. deal. so, i came back home, and hung out with stinky j and baby a for the afternoon. stinky j decked himself out in his darth vader helmet and light saber, and threatened me with his glowing piece of plastic. oooo the dark side. it was very scary, in a lot of ways. some days i look at that kid, and i can't wait to have one of my own. other days, i get one look at him, and my biological clock moves from NOW to NEVER. geeze oh man. pictures to follow. mil besos--rmg
17 October 2005
what a weekend
my head still hurts a little bit, and i'm fairly certain my liver won't forgive me for what i did to it for a while. what can i say, it was a weekend of debauchery with esteban and co., and i lived the life of a high dollar hag. and i have to say, i felt like the prettiest straight girl in the club they took me to.
additionally, i should take this time to apologize for all those stray text messages i sent out on friday night/saturday morning. oops. lucky you. if you ever wanted dirt to use against me if i ever run for political office, now you have it.
i will post some pictures later. and speaking of pictures, i got some good bathroom graffitti this weekend. in fact, while i was snapping a picture friday night, in the ladies' room, mind you, a man kicked me out of the stall because he "had to take a wizz". i told him that was no excuse to rush great art, to which esteban replied, "yeah, i'm her gaygent!" we both thought that was VERY funny, but the guy who had to go to the potty did not.
more stories later. baby a had to stay home from school today with a fever, and needs to be rocked for a little while.
mil besos and double shots for the house--rmg
additionally, i should take this time to apologize for all those stray text messages i sent out on friday night/saturday morning. oops. lucky you. if you ever wanted dirt to use against me if i ever run for political office, now you have it.
i will post some pictures later. and speaking of pictures, i got some good bathroom graffitti this weekend. in fact, while i was snapping a picture friday night, in the ladies' room, mind you, a man kicked me out of the stall because he "had to take a wizz". i told him that was no excuse to rush great art, to which esteban replied, "yeah, i'm her gaygent!" we both thought that was VERY funny, but the guy who had to go to the potty did not.
more stories later. baby a had to stay home from school today with a fever, and needs to be rocked for a little while.
mil besos and double shots for the house--rmg
07 October 2005
they've though of everything...
whatever you look at online for the whole rest of the day, please look at this! seriously, people, what the hell?
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20051007/ap_on_fe_st/ig_nobels
we can put a man on the moon, create what's featured in the above link, put shaq into your phone, run infomercials for ronco products 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, but we can't figure out how to get people off welfare, end hate crimes, cure cancer, or create a vaccine for aids. geeze oh man, people. at least we can say we have plastics, and thereby, the whoopie cushion. See, G-d does have a sense of humor, and i'm sure He/She is laughing at this one...
mil besos--rmg
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20051007/ap_on_fe_st/ig_nobels
we can put a man on the moon, create what's featured in the above link, put shaq into your phone, run infomercials for ronco products 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, but we can't figure out how to get people off welfare, end hate crimes, cure cancer, or create a vaccine for aids. geeze oh man, people. at least we can say we have plastics, and thereby, the whoopie cushion. See, G-d does have a sense of humor, and i'm sure He/She is laughing at this one...
mil besos--rmg
05 October 2005
i'd like an extra shot with that, please
today started at 6am. that's right, 6am. i know, this is a totally different rachel than you are all used to knowing. let me give you a brief review of what's new in my world, or rather give you a rundown of what my days are sort of like...
5:45am-- first alarm goes off. i go back to sleep.
6:00am--last alarm goes off. i get myself up and throw on some clothes i laid out the night before.
6:30am-- i arrive at my cousin sabrina's house to get baby a ready for school
8:15is am-- baby a's bus arrives and carries him away to school after i wave goodbye at the end of the driveway. i start a load of laundry so i can make the kid's bed before he gets home from school, and i head back to my house. on my way, i either stop at starbucks for some rocket fuel, or go tell my grandparents hello, if they are awake.
9am-2:30pm-- arrive home. good days, i nap for a couple of hours. this week, i've been doing a database job for some friends in austin who have a lobbying firm. other days, i've made a trip to san antonio to do some consulting and event planning for ye olde diocese of west texas. who knew my exile would ever end. somewhere in there i eat lunch, make phone calls, and manically check my email. old habits die hard.
2:30pm-- head back over to sabrina's to get ready for the boys to get home. stinky j gets home at 3:30, and has to do homework and bitch about being 12. this takes a while. baby a gets home at 4, and gets some formula and water in his n.g. tube. we hang out, and i mostly laugh at stinky j trying to do his spelling homework. i've been making him do flashcards, and can report that he's getting almost all a's on his tests. and he can spell turquoise. baby a and i lay on the floor and stretch, and watch felicity re-runs and the food network. sometimes we watch little house on the prairie. and i work some more on my database project and try to convince stinky j that burning down the house is a bad idea, and that the gigantic black lab really should live outside, because he slings snot and hair everywhere.
7:45pm-- hook baby a up to his night feed and give him his night meds, with a kiss and a cuddle. and i ask stinky j to be the good kid i know he is deep inside, and i go home to momma.
8pm--get home. momma feeds me and we talk. i usually remember to do the dishes and the odd load of laundry.
9pm-- back to my computer to do more work on the database. it's a killer, man. do you know how many chambers of commerce are in the dallas-fort worth metro area? they are freaking legion. seriously, like at least 120. and those are just the ones google pulled up.
somewhere between 11pm and 1am-- brush my teeth and go to bed.
and now you know all my secrets. well, at least the ones with which i am willing to part.
four weeks til dallas with missy and caro.
three weeks til we find out if i can still plan an event without screwing too much up.
three weeks til wurstfest-- yay beer and sausage. no throw up rides with stinky j this year, seriously.
two months til baby will discovers the world.
one month til the red sox win the world series, again.
about 30 minutes until i check my eyelids for holes.
mil besos--rmg
5:45am-- first alarm goes off. i go back to sleep.
6:00am--last alarm goes off. i get myself up and throw on some clothes i laid out the night before.
6:30am-- i arrive at my cousin sabrina's house to get baby a ready for school
8:15is am-- baby a's bus arrives and carries him away to school after i wave goodbye at the end of the driveway. i start a load of laundry so i can make the kid's bed before he gets home from school, and i head back to my house. on my way, i either stop at starbucks for some rocket fuel, or go tell my grandparents hello, if they are awake.
9am-2:30pm-- arrive home. good days, i nap for a couple of hours. this week, i've been doing a database job for some friends in austin who have a lobbying firm. other days, i've made a trip to san antonio to do some consulting and event planning for ye olde diocese of west texas. who knew my exile would ever end. somewhere in there i eat lunch, make phone calls, and manically check my email. old habits die hard.
2:30pm-- head back over to sabrina's to get ready for the boys to get home. stinky j gets home at 3:30, and has to do homework and bitch about being 12. this takes a while. baby a gets home at 4, and gets some formula and water in his n.g. tube. we hang out, and i mostly laugh at stinky j trying to do his spelling homework. i've been making him do flashcards, and can report that he's getting almost all a's on his tests. and he can spell turquoise. baby a and i lay on the floor and stretch, and watch felicity re-runs and the food network. sometimes we watch little house on the prairie. and i work some more on my database project and try to convince stinky j that burning down the house is a bad idea, and that the gigantic black lab really should live outside, because he slings snot and hair everywhere.
7:45pm-- hook baby a up to his night feed and give him his night meds, with a kiss and a cuddle. and i ask stinky j to be the good kid i know he is deep inside, and i go home to momma.
8pm--get home. momma feeds me and we talk. i usually remember to do the dishes and the odd load of laundry.
9pm-- back to my computer to do more work on the database. it's a killer, man. do you know how many chambers of commerce are in the dallas-fort worth metro area? they are freaking legion. seriously, like at least 120. and those are just the ones google pulled up.
somewhere between 11pm and 1am-- brush my teeth and go to bed.
and now you know all my secrets. well, at least the ones with which i am willing to part.
four weeks til dallas with missy and caro.
three weeks til we find out if i can still plan an event without screwing too much up.
three weeks til wurstfest-- yay beer and sausage. no throw up rides with stinky j this year, seriously.
two months til baby will discovers the world.
one month til the red sox win the world series, again.
about 30 minutes until i check my eyelids for holes.
mil besos--rmg
01 October 2005
road side revelation
i drove by southpark meadows on my way home. what i saw made me a little sick to my stomach. instead of the amazing outdoor music venue that was a part of my young adult memory, and the memories of a lot of people i went to college with, there were the makings of a strip mall. a freaking strip mall...like we need another one?
about 12 million years ago, i saw hordefest there. remember hordefest? it was kind of like lalapalooza, on with less well known bands. i saw blues traveler there, right after they released their first album, when john popper was still a fatty. hook was, and still is, one of my top twenty favorite songs, and i remember how i felt the first time i heard it. that song made me want to walk into a room full of my friends, with a beer in one hand, and a good conversation on my lips. sure, i know it's a song about peter pan and wendy. sure i know the chord progression is predictable, and based on pachelbel's canon in d. but it's a great song. and for one period, over six weeks, i played that song first thing in the morning. and that was about four years after the album came out. i drove my housemates crazy. that freaking song still ends up on my mix lists and on mix cd's about 7 times out of 10.
the day i saw blues traveler was a plain old august day, right before i turned 20. it was rainy, and gross, and i saw ben harper right before we went to the b.t. stage. we were sticky, and i was on the verge of begging to be taken home. and then john popper started playing his harmonica. the clouds parted, the pipes came out, and the sticky, sweet, cloying smell of youth and hash mingled and made music of their own. i stood in the crowd, and because i was terrified of being arrested, i didn't smoke the pot, but i was mesmerized by the music. enfolded in it, almost. and i was glad to be alive, in G-d's creation, listening to music that made my heart happy.
i saw dave matthews play at southpark, as well. my friend kerry and i tried to sneak in an icecream bucket full of margaritas, but the security people did their job, and confiscated our sweet treat. the show was amazing. satellite is one of the most sublime songs ever, in my eyes, at least. i remember being 16 and hearing dave on a cassette tape in my friend dustin's bedroom, after i'd given him a haircut, and thinking that it was one of the coolest things ever. i went to the wally, and bought my own cassette tape of dave, and wore the damn thing out. seriously, i warped the tape from listening to it over and over in the tape player in my old rabbit.
dave was great on the day i saw him. i still maintain it was one of the best live shows i've ever seen. he played all my favorites, and played two step, my second favorite dave song. and celebrate, we did. because life is short, but sweet for certain... ah dave, you are a quaker, and that makes you dear to my heart, not just because of all the tasty oatmeal, but because of the good theology and loving-kindness the friendly folk espouse.
and now, a place of song (and st. augustine says that "he who sings prays twice", so you do the math...) has become a place of commerce, which isn't to say that music isn't commerce. it's a strip mall, more of the same, marketing the sameness that we all seem to want, but say we don't. i know that change is the only thing that is constant. i get it. it just made me a little sad to see such a pretty piece of land, a natural amphitheater with incredible acoustics, and a place that had some memories of mine in it's recesses be turned into something utterly ordinary. blah.
i swear if they ever threaten to pave zilker park, or make more parking spaces by barton springs to put in a wal-mart, i will chain myself to the moontower like those armpit hair girls do with the trees in oregon.
end of rant...rachel OUT!
mil besos--rmg
about 12 million years ago, i saw hordefest there. remember hordefest? it was kind of like lalapalooza, on with less well known bands. i saw blues traveler there, right after they released their first album, when john popper was still a fatty. hook was, and still is, one of my top twenty favorite songs, and i remember how i felt the first time i heard it. that song made me want to walk into a room full of my friends, with a beer in one hand, and a good conversation on my lips. sure, i know it's a song about peter pan and wendy. sure i know the chord progression is predictable, and based on pachelbel's canon in d. but it's a great song. and for one period, over six weeks, i played that song first thing in the morning. and that was about four years after the album came out. i drove my housemates crazy. that freaking song still ends up on my mix lists and on mix cd's about 7 times out of 10.
the day i saw blues traveler was a plain old august day, right before i turned 20. it was rainy, and gross, and i saw ben harper right before we went to the b.t. stage. we were sticky, and i was on the verge of begging to be taken home. and then john popper started playing his harmonica. the clouds parted, the pipes came out, and the sticky, sweet, cloying smell of youth and hash mingled and made music of their own. i stood in the crowd, and because i was terrified of being arrested, i didn't smoke the pot, but i was mesmerized by the music. enfolded in it, almost. and i was glad to be alive, in G-d's creation, listening to music that made my heart happy.
i saw dave matthews play at southpark, as well. my friend kerry and i tried to sneak in an icecream bucket full of margaritas, but the security people did their job, and confiscated our sweet treat. the show was amazing. satellite is one of the most sublime songs ever, in my eyes, at least. i remember being 16 and hearing dave on a cassette tape in my friend dustin's bedroom, after i'd given him a haircut, and thinking that it was one of the coolest things ever. i went to the wally, and bought my own cassette tape of dave, and wore the damn thing out. seriously, i warped the tape from listening to it over and over in the tape player in my old rabbit.
dave was great on the day i saw him. i still maintain it was one of the best live shows i've ever seen. he played all my favorites, and played two step, my second favorite dave song. and celebrate, we did. because life is short, but sweet for certain... ah dave, you are a quaker, and that makes you dear to my heart, not just because of all the tasty oatmeal, but because of the good theology and loving-kindness the friendly folk espouse.
and now, a place of song (and st. augustine says that "he who sings prays twice", so you do the math...) has become a place of commerce, which isn't to say that music isn't commerce. it's a strip mall, more of the same, marketing the sameness that we all seem to want, but say we don't. i know that change is the only thing that is constant. i get it. it just made me a little sad to see such a pretty piece of land, a natural amphitheater with incredible acoustics, and a place that had some memories of mine in it's recesses be turned into something utterly ordinary. blah.
i swear if they ever threaten to pave zilker park, or make more parking spaces by barton springs to put in a wal-mart, i will chain myself to the moontower like those armpit hair girls do with the trees in oregon.
end of rant...rachel OUT!
mil besos--rmg
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