So I made Simon a cd about heroes.
It started out intended to be about superheroes, but it turned into be a necessary examination of the "hero", a deconstruction of the elements out of which a hero can appear. The playlist is as follows:
Nature Boy---------------------David Bowie
Super Baby---------------------Matthew Sweet
Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots----Flaming Lips
Flash Gordon-------------------Queen
Goldeneye----------------------Tina Turner
Secret Agent man----------------Johnny Rivers
Kung Fu Fighting-----------------Edwin starr
Superfly------------------------Curtis Mayfield
Hernando's hideaway-------------Snatch Soundtrack
Killer Queen--------------------Queen
Godzilla------------------------Blue Oyster Cult
Save Me------------------------Queen
Holding out for a hero------------Bonnie Tyler
Theme from Superman------------John Williams, score
Superman----------------------REM
Superman----------------------Five for Fighting
Jimmy Olsen's blues--------------Spin Doctors
Ode to a Superhero--------------Weird Al Yankovic
Spiderweb----------------------No Doubt
So Queen is perhaps over-represented, yes. But they are oh-so-very dramatic. I also think its funny to have "save me" after "godzilla", like they are being chased.
There is a stretch of songs about secret agents and badasses from the 'hood. I think these are both occupations that Simon could and should aspire to. Selections 5-9 are more like career training than anything else. Plus, the boy has got to learn his funk from an early age. My youth was distinctly funk-less and look at me now. Hopeless.
What I am proud of is really tracks 10-13/14. I realized that this disk is not propaganda for already fantastically powered fantasies, no sir. What it should do is get Simon to realize the symbiotic relationship between good and evil in this world. What is hero without a villian? Well, probably an annoying bully, I guess. If his attraction to the crazy maraca action in Hernando's hideaway is any indication, he's right there with me on this. Plus he wil now sing "godzilla" on request.
I also think it is a small accomplishment to put the Weird Al at the very end, so Simon has to listen through all the stuff I want to before he gets to the gooey center of Spiderman. It would get annoying to have it in the front and have to listen to it every time I get in the car.
So far, the favorites are, in no particular order, except track order: Flash Gordon, Hernando's Hideaway, Godzilla and Jimmy Olsen's Blues.
These CD's are available upon request. Seriously, if you want one, I'll send you one.
Wednesday, 28 February 2007
Monday, 26 February 2007
trifecta of crapitude
So Friday was not the best day.
First, we had received a gas bill for the house we are still trying to get rid of in Chicago. This is a house we have not been inside in months. Heat set at 55 to keep pipes from bursting, from freezing, anyway. Nothing cooked since early september. It seems to me like the expenses to maintain a house in suspended animation should be rather small. The gas bill received was $330. For one month. This, I thought absurd. No one must have been able to read the meter (we aren't there, after all). It must have been some crazy estimate, assuming we would have used much more gas than last January, when we actually lived there. The last time I was in town I did stop by for just this eventuality, and read the meter myself. I call the gas company with reading in hand. "Oh, no no noooo, they say. We read the meter with a satellite, they say. It must cost $11 a day to run your water heater, which surely you haven't turned off, have you?"
*^!!#$$%%!!!!!@!! satellites!
#@#$W%(&^%@! Gas company!!!!
Then, the gallery director in the big O! (seriously, that's like a town slogan. Its Everywhere. O!. It looks like either Oprah has bought the town outright and is making it a subsidiary of the magazine or the town has decided to adopt a whiny, jewish accent "oi" when discussing itself, but I digress) came by the studio. Didn't really seem to care for the work I have here, reiterated that "everyone knows you have to wait at least two years between shows". Then she suggested I do some "scenic views of downtown", as that's what they really like here. You know, Nebraska stuff/Crap. Really makes one wish for a decent gallery in this town. Some place to actually want one's work.
Then, I get a call on my cell phone. Its Sandy, the real estate agent. The last time she called me like this I was very excited until she told me about the drunk driver who had driven his car through the intersection and into our garage/fence. Needless to say, my excitement did not last long. So I was able to restrain my hopes of a story that begins "I have some good news...". What I got was "I've got something to tell that will make your day worse..." Water, lots of water. Thankfully, the water was probably plenty warm (see crap #1 above). But it was gushing into our kitchen from 1-5 days. The pipe did not burst, like a normal pipe, but instead, pulled off the other pipes, pointed straight out int the room and fire-hosed unabated. Luckily, Sandy pointed out. that's what we have insurance for. However, seeing as we have not recieved any reimbursement for the sewer work we had done early last spring, before Eloise was born, nor the drunken garage killer from this fall, so the wonders of Erie Insurance aren't thrilling me on the inside.
Here's pulling for Monday.
First, we had received a gas bill for the house we are still trying to get rid of in Chicago. This is a house we have not been inside in months. Heat set at 55 to keep pipes from bursting, from freezing, anyway. Nothing cooked since early september. It seems to me like the expenses to maintain a house in suspended animation should be rather small. The gas bill received was $330. For one month. This, I thought absurd. No one must have been able to read the meter (we aren't there, after all). It must have been some crazy estimate, assuming we would have used much more gas than last January, when we actually lived there. The last time I was in town I did stop by for just this eventuality, and read the meter myself. I call the gas company with reading in hand. "Oh, no no noooo, they say. We read the meter with a satellite, they say. It must cost $11 a day to run your water heater, which surely you haven't turned off, have you?"
*^!!#$$%%!!!!!@!! satellites!
#@#$W%(&^%@! Gas company!!!!
Then, the gallery director in the big O! (seriously, that's like a town slogan. Its Everywhere. O!. It looks like either Oprah has bought the town outright and is making it a subsidiary of the magazine or the town has decided to adopt a whiny, jewish accent "oi" when discussing itself, but I digress) came by the studio. Didn't really seem to care for the work I have here, reiterated that "everyone knows you have to wait at least two years between shows". Then she suggested I do some "scenic views of downtown", as that's what they really like here. You know, Nebraska stuff/Crap. Really makes one wish for a decent gallery in this town. Some place to actually want one's work.
Then, I get a call on my cell phone. Its Sandy, the real estate agent. The last time she called me like this I was very excited until she told me about the drunk driver who had driven his car through the intersection and into our garage/fence. Needless to say, my excitement did not last long. So I was able to restrain my hopes of a story that begins "I have some good news...". What I got was "I've got something to tell that will make your day worse..." Water, lots of water. Thankfully, the water was probably plenty warm (see crap #1 above). But it was gushing into our kitchen from 1-5 days. The pipe did not burst, like a normal pipe, but instead, pulled off the other pipes, pointed straight out int the room and fire-hosed unabated. Luckily, Sandy pointed out. that's what we have insurance for. However, seeing as we have not recieved any reimbursement for the sewer work we had done early last spring, before Eloise was born, nor the drunken garage killer from this fall, so the wonders of Erie Insurance aren't thrilling me on the inside.
Here's pulling for Monday.
Monday, 19 February 2007
race I'm scared to win
So...about a year ago I began applying for a fulbright grant. The baby Girl wasn't born yet and KWW and I were planning out the next few years. First came maternity leave. Working on her dissertation while romantically living abroad with a young family seemed ideal. I began working on applying for a grant. I attended a seminar at NU on applying for a Fulbright Travel grant.
I can only speak a rudimentary form of english and was interested in doing work with a prominent art museum, --that narrowed down the world into London and Amsterdam. I figured everyone would be interested in going to London, so I crafted an application outlining a course of study and work in Amsterdam. Lots of things fell quickly into place. A professor at Carleton is a durch painting specialist and gave me the contact information for the head of pretty much everything I care about at the Rijksmuseum, who wrote on my behalf. I received help from the Art Institute of Chicago. Artists I know wrote effusive things in my recommendations. Emailing resulted in opportunities to have two exhibits of my work in Amsterdam.
THEN..., KWW got a job in Omaha and took a leave of absence from NU. This job has ups and downs, but even at its worst is probably not one that any idealistic scholar would walk away from eagerly. Kids are thriving here. We currently own two houses.
I recently found out that my Fulbright proposal has been recommended to the Foreign Scholarship Board and some equivalent set-up in the Netherlands. I have not been awarded anything, but my chances have increased from, say 10% to 50-66%. I applied as a student (there is a 5 year window), but would not be abe to do so again at a later date.
What seemed like a great idea a year ago now would, if I were to be awarded it, require me to leave my family for long stretches of time. Ahh my dilemma. In some ways, getting turned down now would be the best result. I would feel good at having made it so far, but would be able to craft a smaller residency and make things easier on those in Omaha.
Dilemma...dilemma.
I can only speak a rudimentary form of english and was interested in doing work with a prominent art museum, --that narrowed down the world into London and Amsterdam. I figured everyone would be interested in going to London, so I crafted an application outlining a course of study and work in Amsterdam. Lots of things fell quickly into place. A professor at Carleton is a durch painting specialist and gave me the contact information for the head of pretty much everything I care about at the Rijksmuseum, who wrote on my behalf. I received help from the Art Institute of Chicago. Artists I know wrote effusive things in my recommendations. Emailing resulted in opportunities to have two exhibits of my work in Amsterdam.
THEN..., KWW got a job in Omaha and took a leave of absence from NU. This job has ups and downs, but even at its worst is probably not one that any idealistic scholar would walk away from eagerly. Kids are thriving here. We currently own two houses.
I recently found out that my Fulbright proposal has been recommended to the Foreign Scholarship Board and some equivalent set-up in the Netherlands. I have not been awarded anything, but my chances have increased from, say 10% to 50-66%. I applied as a student (there is a 5 year window), but would not be abe to do so again at a later date.
What seemed like a great idea a year ago now would, if I were to be awarded it, require me to leave my family for long stretches of time. Ahh my dilemma. In some ways, getting turned down now would be the best result. I would feel good at having made it so far, but would be able to craft a smaller residency and make things easier on those in Omaha.
Dilemma...dilemma.
Friday, 16 February 2007
among the short
Today, Simon hosted us at his school for a "love Lunch".
I wanted to say "hosted" so that I could have the mental image of him in a tiny tuxedo, showing us to our seats, recommending wines and serving us a meal.
Anyway, in a room where it is hard t understand how a class of 13 3-6 year olds can function properly, those kids' parents sat with them and enjoyed heart shaped pasta and green beans. It was packed and I had to strategically plan a path to walk through the makeshift lunchroom because those tiny chairs are hard to get out of. It was also clear that some of the parents had a more difficult journey getting up and down then others. It was very sweet, although I was definitely relieved to go back to the studio bbefore the ice cream sundae bar really kicked in.
Simon is always proud to show off his friends and one of my purest joys of fatherhood has to be watching him run and play with his friends. I'm telling you, if you haven't seen the boy run and play with kids who are also running and playing, it is adorable. Although I fear that it will lose some of the cuteness as he gets more able to run without falling down. If any of you have gotten to see him run and fall down while still having fun with other little friends also running and falling down, hoo-wee THAT is adorable.
I'm sure after the sundae bar kicked in, there was plenty of running, and it was probably loud and less than adorable.
I wanted to say "hosted" so that I could have the mental image of him in a tiny tuxedo, showing us to our seats, recommending wines and serving us a meal.
Anyway, in a room where it is hard t understand how a class of 13 3-6 year olds can function properly, those kids' parents sat with them and enjoyed heart shaped pasta and green beans. It was packed and I had to strategically plan a path to walk through the makeshift lunchroom because those tiny chairs are hard to get out of. It was also clear that some of the parents had a more difficult journey getting up and down then others. It was very sweet, although I was definitely relieved to go back to the studio bbefore the ice cream sundae bar really kicked in.
Simon is always proud to show off his friends and one of my purest joys of fatherhood has to be watching him run and play with his friends. I'm telling you, if you haven't seen the boy run and play with kids who are also running and playing, it is adorable. Although I fear that it will lose some of the cuteness as he gets more able to run without falling down. If any of you have gotten to see him run and fall down while still having fun with other little friends also running and falling down, hoo-wee THAT is adorable.
I'm sure after the sundae bar kicked in, there was plenty of running, and it was probably loud and less than adorable.
Wednesday, 14 February 2007
already old
I am finding that there are some good things about Omaha.
One whch occurs abundantly to me now is my studio. It is a great studio. Easily 2 perhaps 3 times larger than my previous studio. And, thanks to the landlord's website, it comes with an internet connection.
I have used this to kick my former addiction to music on tapes with Internet audio. I have my computer in the studio and it has been transformative. I have lots on itunes, which works easily for my music fix. I am perhaps afraid of the sound of an empty studio, so I have something on non-stop. However, I have been sucked into the wealth of great things online to listen to.
Radiolab is one. There have only been two seasons but it is endlessly interesting. check it out if you have the time for it. http://www.wnyc.org/shows/radiolab/ Unfortunately, I have plowed through all of it and moved on to other things.
This American Life is great. I also keep listening to A Prairie Home Companion, which is hard to expain to KWW, whose passionate dislike for it is a rare an inexplicable thing. Its hard to think of exactly why I like it. The stories are long-winded and the jokes leave me chuckling, but are never anything I would dare to recount to anyone. They just don't seem like they are that kind of funny. Although I notice that in the 15-minute long tales of a fictional youth by a man in his mid sixties, there is often a theatrical de-pantsing. And, really, who doesn't like a theatrical de-pantsing?
Perhaps it means I am already old.
One whch occurs abundantly to me now is my studio. It is a great studio. Easily 2 perhaps 3 times larger than my previous studio. And, thanks to the landlord's website, it comes with an internet connection.
I have used this to kick my former addiction to music on tapes with Internet audio. I have my computer in the studio and it has been transformative. I have lots on itunes, which works easily for my music fix. I am perhaps afraid of the sound of an empty studio, so I have something on non-stop. However, I have been sucked into the wealth of great things online to listen to.
Radiolab is one. There have only been two seasons but it is endlessly interesting. check it out if you have the time for it. http://www.wnyc.org/shows/radiolab/ Unfortunately, I have plowed through all of it and moved on to other things.
This American Life is great. I also keep listening to A Prairie Home Companion, which is hard to expain to KWW, whose passionate dislike for it is a rare an inexplicable thing. Its hard to think of exactly why I like it. The stories are long-winded and the jokes leave me chuckling, but are never anything I would dare to recount to anyone. They just don't seem like they are that kind of funny. Although I notice that in the 15-minute long tales of a fictional youth by a man in his mid sixties, there is often a theatrical de-pantsing. And, really, who doesn't like a theatrical de-pantsing?
Perhaps it means I am already old.
Tuesday, 13 February 2007
superheroes
The boy loves superheroes.
Yes, when I was a boy, I loved superheroes. I collected comic books. When I bought my first house, my comic book collection was the only thing I rescued from my parent's house. I think there's like 600 of them, all of them old and beat up and worn out. Although I have not shown them to the boy yet, I will have to at some point. In a couple years, I guess, when he will read them instead of needing me to read them all to him, as would be the case today. But regardless, I get the superhero thing.
I am also attepting to replace the "outer space dance mix" compilation cd that was made for his last birthday with a new cd to listen to every day in the car. Every Day. Seriously, it is hard to get him to not want to just jump to Weird Al's "Yoda", which is almost always followed by a request that I then tell him the story of Star Wars. And the Empire Strikes Back. And then The Return of the Jedi. He will alllow me to pause the story after the car ride is over, only to start it again when we get back in. He always remembers. Always. But, I digress.
Anyway...I am selling him on the idea of a superhero themed cd. I could really use some suggestions, as my tendencies go a little afar afield. The boy received a cd with tv show theme songs, but I can't locate it yet.
Please note, I am considering the following:
Godzilla by Blue Oyster Cult
(this will undoubtedly require making the successful argument that Godzilla is, in fact, a superhero and is sent to save us from ourselves)
Iron Man by Black Sabbath.
(ok, I'm worried that this woud totally freak him out..after all, he's still only 4.)
Kung-Fu Fighting...by someone I can't recall, but its on Pure Funk Vol 1...and its already on the playlist.
KWW is making the case for the peter cetera song that says something about "I'll be your knight in shining armour".
Yes, when I was a boy, I loved superheroes. I collected comic books. When I bought my first house, my comic book collection was the only thing I rescued from my parent's house. I think there's like 600 of them, all of them old and beat up and worn out. Although I have not shown them to the boy yet, I will have to at some point. In a couple years, I guess, when he will read them instead of needing me to read them all to him, as would be the case today. But regardless, I get the superhero thing.
I am also attepting to replace the "outer space dance mix" compilation cd that was made for his last birthday with a new cd to listen to every day in the car. Every Day. Seriously, it is hard to get him to not want to just jump to Weird Al's "Yoda", which is almost always followed by a request that I then tell him the story of Star Wars. And the Empire Strikes Back. And then The Return of the Jedi. He will alllow me to pause the story after the car ride is over, only to start it again when we get back in. He always remembers. Always. But, I digress.
Anyway...I am selling him on the idea of a superhero themed cd. I could really use some suggestions, as my tendencies go a little afar afield. The boy received a cd with tv show theme songs, but I can't locate it yet.
Please note, I am considering the following:
Godzilla by Blue Oyster Cult
(this will undoubtedly require making the successful argument that Godzilla is, in fact, a superhero and is sent to save us from ourselves)
Iron Man by Black Sabbath.
(ok, I'm worried that this woud totally freak him out..after all, he's still only 4.)
Kung-Fu Fighting...by someone I can't recall, but its on Pure Funk Vol 1...and its already on the playlist.
KWW is making the case for the peter cetera song that says something about "I'll be your knight in shining armour".
Friday, 9 February 2007
I used to have a tell
Lets start with a little about me.
I used to have a tell. I am the kind of guy who likes to tell jokes. However, my jokes used to often take the form of an elaborate lie. Didn't really matter what it was about, but, oh the joy I would get if I could get someone, anyone, to believe the most outlandish lie even for a minute. It was not too long after I convinced someone--and you know who you are--that the practice wedding cake we had left in the car while running into Zio's for a slice fo pizza had melted into a chocolate puddle int he back seat, that I was revealed.
Every time I began a sentence with "Apparently..." the sentence was a complete lie. Then every time I said the word "apparently" , it was repeated again and again. This has made my work only that much more difficult.
I used to have a tell. I am the kind of guy who likes to tell jokes. However, my jokes used to often take the form of an elaborate lie. Didn't really matter what it was about, but, oh the joy I would get if I could get someone, anyone, to believe the most outlandish lie even for a minute. It was not too long after I convinced someone--and you know who you are--that the practice wedding cake we had left in the car while running into Zio's for a slice fo pizza had melted into a chocolate puddle int he back seat, that I was revealed.
Every time I began a sentence with "Apparently..." the sentence was a complete lie. Then every time I said the word "apparently" , it was repeated again and again. This has made my work only that much more difficult.
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