Mammoth Mountain, I Own You

No injuries for me, this trip to the slopes. I managed a whole day of snowboarding without breaking, separating, spraining, or even bruising anything (other than my ego, at times). It was truly a test of my inner resolve, as I spent most of the day battling some of the smaller green runs on the mountain. The ones I spent the most time on were called "Hansel" and "Gretel", if that gives you any idea of the caliber of snowboarding I felt I was up for. Either way, it was lots of fun, and I'll settle for some wimpy runs in exchange for not having to wear a cast to work for 3 weeks.


Here are the shots of me right after I rented my board, then right after I finished putting all of my gear on before heading out to the mountain. Was there ever really any doubt that I'd be the guy in the Texas jersey?

Born to Shred

No, that's not me, but there's a chance it might be this weekend. Amanda and I are going on a ski trip with the youth group that we are advisors for, so we'll be up at Mammoth Mountain all weekend. My only day to hit the slopes is Sunday, so without time for a lesson, I don't feel comfortable skiing because I've never done it before. I feel much more comfortable snowboarding, which I have done twice and have proven myself painfully bad at. Let's hope I don't separate any shoulders or end up concussed. Of course, after we get back I will let you know if anything interesting happens.

On a somewhat related note, somebody named Dorfmeister won the gold in the women's downhill the other day. I don't love rooting for other countries in the Olympics, but I have to say I was excited to see this.

Please Don't Hook Em Horns

I will admit that this one presents quite a quandry. Have you heard of Cowboy Troy?

There's absolutely nothing redeeming about Cowboy Troy. Evidently, he's this black guy, he's basically a rapper, but he dresses up in the tight jeans, big hat, and immense belt buckle and calls himself a country singer (actually, he calls himself a "Hick Hop Country Rapper", even though he basically just raps with a drawl over steel guitar tracks. Anyway, the dude is abysmal, talent wise. He's not even a good rapper, which is probably the reason he doesn't call himself a rapper to begin with.

Anyway, he's got a song out called "Hook Em Horns", and yes, it's about the Longhorns. I went to check it out on iTunes yesterday, b/c I figured if it was even remotely amusing, it would be worth the 99 cents for the download, just for the novelty of it. So, I previewed it, and let me just tell you, it is horrible. It's the suckiest bunch of suck that ever sucked. My favorite comment came from one of the customer reviews on iTunes, which said "This is the best thing to happen to Texas A&M in a really long time."

I didn't know if it was possible, but I have finally come across something out there that celebrates the Texas Longhorns that I want absolutely no part of. Screw you, Cowboy Troy!

What a Douche

I may not like his politics, but how can I argue with his sports affiliations.

Playing Kiss Covers, Beautiful and Stoned

Wow. So last night I went to see Jeff Tweedy at the Henry Fonda Theater on Hollywood Blvd., and it was just an amazing show. I'd never been to a show like that before; there were maybe 1,000 people there, tops. It was very intimate, and even more so considering the fact that I got in right when the doors opened and was about 3 feet from the stage. Most of my pictures didn't really come out. They weren't allowing flash photography, and like a good momma's boy, I followed the rules.



I was a little nervous that I might not have a car when the show ended, b/c where I parked it was a tad sketchy, but hey, it was free street parking, so what are you gonna do? (It was there when I got back.) When I got to the theater, I called the guy I was supposed to buy the ticket from, who seemed like a nice enough dude. He's from Alabama, so we had an immediate common ground, which was a good thing b/c we had about an hour and a half to stand around and make small talk, between waiting in line and then waiting inside for the show. Luckily, this dude is a bit more obsessive than I am about this kind of thing, and got in line (it was a general admission show) around 3:00 (doors opened at 7:00, show started at 8:00) and was about 10th in line, so I just chilled with him. There was a bit of confusion among the event staff about getting in, but somehow we managed to get in about 5 minutes early, so we just walked right up to the front of the floor and set up shop.

Before it really filled up I decided I wanted a beer, and on my way to the bar I decided I should probably get two, since it might be awhile before I went back. When I got to the bar, I thought better of that and ordered three, immediately chugged one of them and took the other two back up with me. There was no way I was leaving that spot again, and I'm glad I recognized that, b/c I would have been supremely disappointed had I tried and not been able to get back up there.

Wilco's drummer Glenn Kotche was the opening act, which was interesting. I mean, he's a drummer. A percussionist, really, but still. 47 minutes of drums. I don't know that I'd buy a cd of it, but it was interesting to watch live. He uses all of these weird household looking items that are somehow all hooked up to make different sounds, and at one point, he opened a bunch of little boxes that were filled with crickets and put a microphone over them. Like I said, it was interesting. The funniest part of his set was when he annouced that his next song was a cover of Brazilian composer Szwa Shumberto, and a bunch of people started cheering. Really? Big fans of Szwa Shumberto??

Tweedy took the stage sometime between 9:00 and 9:15, and played an entirely acoustic show. He played his first six songs without saying a word to the audience, but then he started telling stories and opening up a bit. He played for just under two hours, including both encores, the second of which he was accompanied by Glenn on drums. For the last song of his first set, he was accompanied on the drums as well, this time by his son Spencer. They dedicated the song to "Mommy." The show was really, really great. Probably not the best concert I've ever been to, but one of them. The highlight of the show, for me, was when he unplugged for his very last song and stood on the front of the stage and played one of his great Uncle Tupelo songs, Acuff Rose. Also, his acoustic version of A Shot in the Arm was just amazing. Here's his set list, in case the two of you out there who know who Jeff Tweedy is are interested.

Main Set:
Sunken Treasure
Someday Some Morning Sometime
Remember the Mountain Bed
Was I in Your Dreams
Please Tell My Brother
Bob Dylan's Beard
Theologians
Muzzle of Bees
The Ruling Class (new Loose Fur song)
We Can Make It Better
I Am Trying to Break Your Heart
Radio King
I'm the Man Who Loves You (with Spencer on drums)

First Encore:
Airline to Heaven
Shot in the Arm
When the Roses Bloom Again
California Stars

Second Encore:
Not For the Season (with Glenn on drums)
Far Far Away (with Glenn on drums)
War on War (with Glenn on drums)
Heavy Metal Drummer (with Glenn on drums)
Acuff-Rose (unplugged, solo)

Sharps and Flats

Kids, music has it's highs and it's lows, it's sharps and flats, if you will, and today I experienced them both.

First of all, I scored a ticket to go see Jeff Tweedy (founder and lead singer of Wilco) on Sunday night, and I'm pretty f'ing excited about that. I'm still looking for another one for Amanda, because I'd much rather go with her than go by myself, but I'll go by myself if that's what it comes down to. I've seen Wilco four times, but I've never seen a solo show by Tweedy. I've heard they're great. Check back in a few days for the review.

Secondly, I just finished a great biography on Jimi Hendrix that I picked up from the library the other day. It's called Room Full of Mirrors, and it was written by the same guy who wrote the Kurt Cobain biography Heavier Than Heaven (which I still desperately want to read). Room Full of Mirrors was awesome. For some reason I've long been obsessed with the rock stars who died at age 27, so this book was right up my alley. I not only have a new appreciation for many of Jimi's songs, but I learned some interesting things, such as the fact that before Jimi really made it, he was in a band for a short while with Tommy Chong (later of Cheech & Chong). I also learned that one night when Jimi flew into a drunken jealous rage in a pub in London and began to hit his girlfriend with a telephone receiver - and this part is a quote from the book - "at that moment, Paul McCartney and John Lennon walked into the pub and calmly took the phone from Jimi's hands." Now, I am in absolutely no way condoning violence against women, but to be put in your place by Paul McCartney and John Lennon? That's just unbelievable.

What about the lows, you ask? Well, as you may know, the Grammy Awards took place today. In Los Angeles. A block from my office. And, as you may also know, I take the bus to and from work. Today, though, the buses had been re-routed through downtown LA, but they really did a piss-poor job of telling anyone about this. I even checked the MTA's website before I left work. No advisory whatsoever. So I head to the bus stop, right in front of the Staples Center, and I'm waiting there for about 15 minutes, when I notice a yellow 8 1/2 X 11 piece of paper taped to a light post maybe 10 yards from the bus stop. Nothing on the stop itself, mind you. Nothing near the bench, or on the post with the schedule and information. After trying to read this poorly worded MTA advisory (it was like trying to read Sanskrit), I decided I'd walk to where the streets weren't blocked off anymore and just get on the bus there. Unfortunately, that was about 1o blocks away, in the wrong direction. After waiting for the bus at the new stop for about 10 more minutes (with a LOT of people), I got on an extremely crowded bus with what seemed like about 85 other Angelinos, most of whom had yet to see the inside of a shower today. Needless to say, the ride was less than less than enjoyable, and I blame the Grammys.

Today's lesson: Read about music, listen to music, go see live music, but screw the people who pay for and promote the music. I'd like to see Clive Davis hop on the 328 and see how he enjoyed the detour.

Strange Bedfellows

In one of the bigger WTF moments I've ever encountered, Lindsay Lohan was injured in an accident involving a broken teacup. Evidently, according to an article on cnn.com, she was just out of the shower, still wet and with lotion on (I'm about to lose my train of thought), and slipped while going up the stairs.

Ready for the WTF part? This is taken directly from the first line of the article:

Lindsay Lohan was treated at a London hospital last week after she cut her leg in an accident at Bryan Adams' home, according to published reports.

Wait for it... wait for it...

WHAT THE F#*$@ WAS LINDSAY LOHAN DOING SHOWERING AT BRYAN ADAMS' HOUSE????

This is just further proof that celebrities are insane and really only care about associating with other celebrities. I mean, come ON!! Bryan Adams?? The man who, without a hint of sarcasm, sang the line, "Tell me have you ever really, really really ever loved a woman."

(Funny story about that song, by the way. My friend Gary, probably largely due to boredom, and much to the chagrin of the residents of Utica, Mississippi, spent the better part of an entire Summer calling one of the local radio stations to request that song around the same time every afternoon.)