stevengharms

This evening after my classes I was sitting outside of the school at the ‘Dillo stop waiting for the, uh, ‘Dillo to come round. While waiting I was reading a textbook when I felt something alight to my lower calf. I looked down and sow a mosquito.

I hate those bastards.

And so I thought: “By God, it’s a mosquito mid-suck! If I kill it i will have bug guts and, uh, until-recently my blood on me.” About the same time another more primal message came in “Kill that ugly thing stealing your vital hæmocytes.” Before I could be more than just barely conscious of these ideas I smacked the insect into oblivion.

Sure enough, and to my chagrin, said action resulted in a bloody smear on my calf.

So the addition is “When you know you have two choices, but that they will both lead to a disappointing / irksome / irritating end, and, having chosen one, you realized one of the said bitter ends and were, as you expected, disappointed / irked / put out.”

Guy 1: So my boss took us out to lunch Guy 2: Cool! Where? Guy 1: Bennigan’s Guy 2: Ugh, what’d you get? Guy 1: Well it was between the club and the burger, neither of which looked good and pretty much assured disappointment. Guy 2: So which did you get? Guy 1: The club. Guy 2: And it was…? Guy 1: Really average and a bit overcooked, just like I expected. Guy 2: What a total bekanntschlechtwahl Guy 1: I am full, but not content ( shout out SB )

Yesterday Lauren and I were near the Arboretum area having a coffee at the beautiful Segafredo-backed 360 Hills Cafe on Jollyville. As hunger crept up on my lady she admitted to having a bit of a hunger for “Fresh Choice” which is a salad buffet that also sells some overcooked carb-heavy things on the side ( pasta, cardboardy pizza, etc. ).

We walked in and checked out the menu options and saw that the limitless buffet was $9 mumbledy mumble.

Nine-plus-dollars.

3 gallons of premium?

For salad?

( “You don’t put burbon in it or nothin’?” )

I appreciate that the rich eat better than the poor and that establishments like this are the barometer of that ugly truth, but ten dollars for a salad bar is just beyond the pale of good sense. Maybe this is why my very expense-conscious sister only goes for lunch.

For some of you not in flyover locales ten bucks may sound pretty reasonable for a meal, but ‘round here ten bucks will get you: - A wonderful taco plate at Kerby Lane - A wonderful chicken / salad ( fajita salad ) at The Hyde Park Bar and Grill - An asian chicken salad at the Alama Drafthouse movie theatre - A big greasy plate of something Mexican at Chuy’s - Sesame Chicken at China Café - Lot of other unhealthy stuff.

So, we turned on our heels smartly, walked over to the HEB and bought sauce, lettuce head, bleu cheese crumbles, and Bac-O’s and provelone, Duvel Golden Ale, Corn-Nuts, and french rolls. We put breaded chicken, made a parmigiana sauce, put the chicken and sauce to cook in the oven.

After it was cooked we put it on a french roll, covered with provelone and served with a salad with champagne dressing with bleu cheese.

Bill from HEB $40.00 with some premium / multi-use items in there.

And that doesn’t even top off the score: my girl and i talked and laughed as we cooked, we shared some ranch corn nuts in a decadent display of growling stomach staving off, and after a quick washing up of the plates together, we watched disc III of “Ergo Proxy” ( it gets really good there! ).

I hear that many revolutions have begun when one individual said “enough”. Not to compare this lowly servant to Rosa Parks or anything, but last night we said enough to being ripped off at dinner for decent food.

I read in a blog post about “how to save money” that every time you think about going out for food, don’t and make a great meal instead. You’ll wind up thanking yourself. Words to weigh your decisions by.

Last night Lauren and I, sick of being sick and trapped in the house, went out to Austin’s Paramount Theatre and saw the 9 o’clock showing of “Bombshell”.

The synopsis runs essentially like this: “Bombshell” film actress Lola Burns, a from the farm in Illinois to Hollywood starlet type who fickly hops from idea to idea: Marrying the tanned European marquis, adopting a baby, changing her Hollywood image. Naturally the studio’s publicity man and the studio head are none-too-keen on their bombshell becoming “a rubber nipple” and are thus dedicated to thwarting her ambitions and making sure she’s back for her make-up call.

Notably, this movie was pre-Code, so instead of smarmy pratfalls and fades to black, you get characters’ adult dialog being actually fit for adults ( implication of single motherhood, racy dialogue about underclothing, displays of drunkenness, etc. ).

It was stunning to both Lauren and I how different the expectations of movie viewers have become. These characters had absolutely no depth there was no empathy that I could have had for any of the characters. Rather, I thought this “talkie” to basically be like watching flesh-animated cartoons.

• “Oh look Daffy’s doing blackface (now considered racist) stuff!”

• “Oh look, they’re going to put the goldfish in the water pitcher!”

It was as if the idea of the character having a mental world wherewith the viewer could empathize, relate, or see their thought process was completely un-considered, like a cartoon.

Somewhat appallingly to the modern viewer, as the Lola’s character attempted to control her public image ( instead of being a slut, being a virgin, because that’s the only two choices a lady has, mind you ) and not be quite such a tool of the studio, the direction seems to prod you to the conclusion: “That silly platinum blonde dame, she lacks the gumption to stick to anything of import anyway, all the better the studio kept her from trying that!”

The subtext was very surprising to both of us.

Nevertheless, the pure absurdity, and that incredibly loud ( to add to the chaos ) soundtrack combined with the comedy of errors/manners/impaired mental function do bring together some absurd and farcical laughs ( especially when Lola is romanced by a Bostonian blue-blood whose spare time is occupied by writing “verse” )

Interestingly, the studio publicist, Lee Tracy had this tidbit of information at the imdb:

While in Mexico for location shooting for VIVA VILLA!, Tracy stepped out onto his hotel balcony and urinated on a passing military parade. He was immediately arrested and deported from the country. Embarrassed & furious, Louis B. Mayer fired him instantly from MGM.

Now that would be a turn in a biopic that I’ve not seen before.

On March 13th my world became a little bit weirder and a little bit richer as I watched Scott Walker: 30 Century Man. It tells the story of an American boy named Noel BrelEngel, who heads to Los Angeles and joins a trio called The Walker Brothers. The Walkers have minor success in the early Sunset strip scene, but then head to Jolly Old England where their success is of a much larger and much more lucrative variety.

There they seem to tap into a post-war ennui psychology that ties the bourgeois-making-tea-staring- out-the-tenement-development that defined Britain. Listening to the music you hear the heavy reverb, the Phil Spector influence overwhelming the headphones. Unmissable is the driving bassline and Scott’s present, urging baritone.

Now, to this point in the film, I was intrigued that I had never heard of this band.

The Break Up

Eventually the Walker Brothers ( neither Walker, nor brothers, discuss ) break up and Scott starts releasing edgy matrial. English translations of the chansons of Jacques Brel about the seedy side ( a decade ahead of Lou Reed ) of life and, somehow, his core audience sticks with him.

Yet it was clear that is not thinking of this being the limit, Wikipedia notes Walker studying Gregorian chant, dissonances, and other elements that made his work completely indescribable.

Scott proceeds to do a “Doors on Ed Sullivan” and continues to be booked as a pop singer, but performs his exploratory and, occasionally shocking material. His emotional state and distaste for fame push him into being a near recluse, separating his albums by intervals of whole decades.

The film chronicles Scott’s unworldly use of vibrato and analyzes his harmony content as being a counterpoint between dissonance and implied resolution. It’s eerie, it’s creepy, it’s disconcerting and the lyrical content, swimming in vibrato hints of tortured nightmares of a hellish landscape.

In short, music to play Silent Hill to.

Lyrics like:

And I used to be a citizen I never felt the pressure I knew nothing of the horses nothing of the thresher.

Or

Do you swear that the breastbone was bare? I saw it, and made my escape. Do you remember what happened to most of the children? You were in charge of the rolling stock.

Or

“I’m the only one left alive…aaahhh….live. I’m the only one left alive.”

Make you know that this person is doing something dramatically different to the thing that you call “song”. He’s somewhere beyond “song”.

The film footage shows vivid scenes of a percussionist beating pork loin in a syncopated beat with his bear hands. This providing core background to Scott’s vocals.

The impressionistic feel of horror and modernity and convenience and horror really work together in the track “30 Century Man”.

See the dwarves and see the giants Which one would you choose to be? And if you can’t get that together Here’s the answer, here’s the key You can freeze like a 30 Century Man Like a 30 Century Man I’ll save my bread and take it with me ‘Til a hundred years or so Shame you won’t be there to see me Shakin’ hands with Charles De Gaulle Play it cool and Saranwrap all you can Be a 30 Century Man You can freeze like a 30 Century Man Like a 30 Century Man Like a 30 Century Man

Through all of this Lauren and I have started to laugh a bit about the Walker dramatics. It’s a good laugh to drum arhythmically and recite the grocery list with Walkerian vibrato:

Tiiiiilllll a slap moooook slap Cereal Cereal cereallllll Salad Dressing!

But as I think about the miages and scapes I know that this man is doing Art and it disturbs and jars me, and that is rather rare.

Scott and Popular Music

I think under Walker’s presence I can understand the baritone over-vibrato’d stylings of Andrew Eldritch of the Sisters of Mercy or Ian Curtis of Joy Division. Their idol was this man, this man out of phase with the pop music which bore him into a fame he didn’t really seem to care for.

Video Game

I definitely hear Walker’s influence in Japanese video games of the late 90’s and even today. Silent Hill has got to be the most Walkerian soundtrack ever. Walker used rusty wheels as an instrument, their metal grinding metal. I hear it in the palette of Silent Hill. I hear it in the ambient mood shifts as the Silent Hill characters emerge from the other world, where neutral, but not hospitable], long tones re-calibrate but do not release.

It was an accident that we walked into that movie, it happened to be on when we left SXSWi, but I believe that Lauren and I both feel that our sonic palette is now ever so much more wide.

My blog-friend Daniel has posted numerous times citations, references, quotes, speeches of the representative of the 14th district of The Lone Star State: Ron Paul.

Yet I can recall being a freshman with The Social Bobcat during one of Mr. Paul’s re-election cycles. The ad was the typical attack ad; judging by Paul’s attendance record, it didn’t do much to derail his career.

In any case the ads were along the lines of

• “Rrrron Paul, mumbledy mumble badda badda. “

or

• “Who approved mumbledy mumble, blah blah? Rrrron Paul.”

There was the implication of a rolling “Rr” and when it was said the picture on the screen would inverse expose ( look like a film negative ) and it became clear that Paul was the negative (ho-ho!) choice.

Every time I see Paul’s name I think “Rrron Paul”

I wish I could find that ad on youTube.

At Enoteca Vespaio this weekend one of the other guests had mentioned the mysterious fricative consonant unique to Czech: ř. I had been thinking about this sound and the statement “Language X has difficult sound Y” ( particularly the hard “g” in Dutch ) and how one acquires the ability to reproduce that sound in the intervening days and decided that I would like to hear that sound in person.

Fortunately, one of my peers in my C++ class is Czech and I knew I could go to the source. After class I leaned across the table and I asked said lady, “Say, I heard that in Czech you have a consonant that no other..”

“…ř.”

”[to Lauren] That’s it, she said it!”

“…ř?( with that amazing Eastern European look that implies they are concerned but not surprised you just sprouted a third eye )”

In any case, we chatted some more about life sans vowels ( including her running off an intelligible sentence about snails in the mist that had no vowels ) and she invited us to join her friends and husband for dinner at the Baby Acapulco near the Gateway center. We did and had a very fun time.

But now check this out

During my blog-redesign hiatus I ran into a friend I made at UT in the Dutch program and who I’d lost track of since my departure from Austin. Over at her place with her awesome roommates we listened to Björk’s Homogenic, watched the terrible programming of Dutch SBS6, had parties, did jenever shots, and patronized the nearby HENDO snack-stand. So imagine my surprise when I walked into the Regal Theatres lobby and saw her standing there! We swapped contact details and went our separate ways.

So here I was, talking with my Czech classmate and her husband when I mention that I’d lived in Holland and that some of my friends in that program had later gone to Prague to teach English. As it turned out, they knew one another and had met in Praha. I looked over at Lauren and she had the look of unmitigated surprise on her face.

The world, my friends, is small. So be nice to each other.

Who knew Austin was my karmic hub?

The happy couple
Originally uploaded by sgharms.

Alfredo Garcia and Nicole Garcia née Morales.

This weekend Lauren and I attended the wedding of this lovely couple. Alfredo and I had lost contact of one another when I moved to CA, but, upon returning to Austin, he found me via a comment I left at another blog.

Through this past 10 months (!?!), we’ve had occasion to see each other with some regularity and were blessed to be invited to this beautiful wedding. The wedding took place at the lovely San José Catholic Church hidden in the heart of beautiful South Austin. I had only been to one other Catholic wedding ( being of Anglo - Germanic stock myself ) so the ceremony and ritual was again a bit of a foreign, although beautiful, experience for me. The mass was very interesting and the couple had included some of the best, and most mystical, parts about man / woman / creation of woman / miracles at the wedding in Cana / etc. It was very rich and very much crafted so as to provide magic into the fabric of existence.

But what more could I say? I think this picture says it a thousand times over. The bride was beautiful, the groom was elated, the parents were proud.

After the ceremony there was a short intermission and several of us repaired to the Enotecca at Vespaio with some new friends and some recently-relocated friend and had an inter-activity glass of wine and some light repast before heading to the hotel.

The reception facilities were of the highest grandeur and the food was great as well. A real bonus was to see all of those folks with whom I croquet-ed a lot in my senior year again. Most are married, moved elsewhere, having fantastic lives doing interesting things and adjusting, in many cases, to that mantle called parenthood.

Towards the end of the evening Alfredo insisted that maximally funky dancitude be seen and was simply not denied. As the evening closed, the Alfredo produced soundtrack ended and we headed out. Upon seeing the bride I casually remarked to her “Ah! Mrs. Garcia” and I saw a strange expression of realization pass over her face and she said, dare I say proudly, that she realized that was her name now. I guess when the priest says it you must be thinking “What is this guy saying, what am I doing up here” - when some guest says it to you, the “Oh, wow this is real” might just hit you anew.

She has a wonderful heart and the good Mr. Garcia has found a wonderful partner in her.

Another pair of guests, the Cortese family of Colorado and their family, invited us to a Sunday brunch-party at a house they had rented for the week in the heart of Travis Heights. I thought this was a great idea - to rent a house and enjoy it for a week versus cramming into a hotel.

It was the usual South austin shotgun-style house that had been tastefully outfitted with the modern effects ( hardwood floor, stainless steel, etc. ). It made a very cozy and wonderful spot for wedding guests to talk to one another on a more causal plane. The weather threatened once or twice to turn rainy, thankfully it were but mostly sprinkles that fell.

After a pretty consistent cycle of sleep and matrimonially-induced excitement, we headed back up to North Austin, indulged in a cold stone, and then took a nice-long nap!

The weeks of light commitment to househould duties as I undertook the site redesign had mounted up, so we exited our cloud and returned to quotidian reality courtesy of thrilling items like doing laundry and cleaning the kitchen.

In all, we felt exceedingly thankful to have been part of this beautiful wedding experience. The beautiful couple are headed off to Italy to enjoy of the Italian springtime ( good timing! ). I can’t wait ‘til they get back so that we can host them chez nous and they can regale us of their adventures and first blissful steps into the great unknown of the mystical union between man and woman.

Last week I started receiving phone calls from the BCR collection agency.

I was in Atlanta with weak reception last week, so I missed the deluge as it began last week, but now that I’m back in Austin I’ve been receiving the messages. They call asking for a girl ( whose name I recognize from the initial weeks when I got this number, about a year ago ). I say she isn’t at this number, she will never be at this number, etc.

The next day, I receive an automated call from BCR.

The next day, I receive a call from BCR.

Saturday I went ape on the poor girl and demanded my number be removed from the list. Sure enough, Sunday morning at 9am, the phone rings, an automated call from the same area code and prefix as BCR saying “please call us back.”

Today I have called them back and demanded my removal. For anyone else googling this, try their main line at (202) 607-2749.

I asked who they wanted and verified that I was not that person.

And for a non Internerd here the story would end.

….but then I put this girl’s name into Google and found her MySpace page.

Should I mail her ( “Hey sweetie, stop dodging your creditors, they’re driving me nuts” ). Or should I ask “How deep are you in”, maybe make a Payday loan at Payday interest rate prices? Or….what to do?

As you may have noticed from my posts before I went to the Rails camp, I had to do a lot of work to take my tests early, turn in my school homework early, get caught up at work early, etc.

…So that I could vanish for a week….

And now I have to get caught up in advance again because I have to go to SJ this Wednesday.

Rest next weekend? Nope. Moving.

I’m taking the first three days of the week after that off to unpack and, maybe, just maybe, get a day of rest in there somewhere before my body decides to clue me into its opinion by getting me sick.

Yesterday I prepared for my CS class exam on Tuesday and this morning I prepared a cheat sheet ( we’re allowed an 8.5x11” sheet ). I’m ready. Now I just need to get caught up on my math class’ reading, do my homework that will be due Thursday and then I can just focus on the work I need to do in SJ while there.

Upside: I’ll get to see my teammates from across the globe, meet my new boss, and I’ll get to see my favorite barber in Sunnyvale! So there’s quite a lot of upside.

Well yesterday was a brief morning session where we covered profiling, how to get help, and took a look at some of the student generated work that had been created during the week.

After that we were shuttled back to Atlanta where we all dispersed, catching our flights to the various parts of the map.

My plane was delayed by an hour ( mechanical ) so I arrived in houston about 7:30. After getting to the park and ride I proceeded to drive back to Austin, getting home about midnight.

While I was flying I had a chance to post a wrap up and advice page which will be next in the posting list.

I’m glad to have gone, but right now, in my comfy chair, I’m sure glad to be back home!