Vader in Love

Amazing. . .

Bali Ha'i

Southern California is on fire as you well know, unless you really have never left your house and you don't own a television. It is much further South than where I am, but the skies over the Burb are pretty gross. I feel like I am in South Pacific, as in the movie, not the place. If you've ever seen that movie, you'll remember that they used many different bold color filters. I think it created interesting moods in the movie, but it does feel odd to be living behind an amber filter. It's like perpetual sunset or maybe perpetual sunset in Vietnam or the old west, take your pick. I don't know why I'm writing this blog, it doesn't have much of a point, I guess it's just a note on how the fire is creating a weird mood here. I feel really awful for the millions of people being truly impacted by the fires, but up here it is just definitely a strange, hazy, apocalyptic sky.

Reunited and it feel so good . . .

We went to the Getty

Eva C Revisited

Oi.

This week I had a pap test, which all the ladies out there will know is not even slightly comfortable, a surprisingly painful tetanus shot from which I am still sore two days later, I was at the dentist's for three hours where it was discovered I had a cavity - my first cavity ever - and I am still completely depressed about this, I try to take such good care of my teeth, and today my car died on me and I had to try to coast out of an intersection, using the emergency brake to stop - a problem which we just had "fixed" for $700 a week and a half ago. So that's a pretty rad week.

Achy breaky heart

Ah, hell. In previous blogs I wrote about my disdain towards the Disney Channel. Well, here's yet another example of the sad state of tweens today. Apparently the Hannah Montana (fictional character played by Miley Cyrus, aka Billy Ray's daughter) concerts are selling like hot cakes - tickets are in such high demand that they are selling for thousands of dollars. The story on the news said that these tickets are selling for more than The Police or Bruce Springsteen . . . what?!?! The Police reunion tour, the tour that would never happen, one of the greatest bands of all time, is cheaper and easier to see than a fictional 14 year old country/pop star. Wow.
Along with the concerts theme, I am realizing that it's tough to be a fan of, well, of a lot of bands that I am a fan of. My parents are a little older than a lot of my peer's parents (my dad was 50 when I was born), so musical rebellion for me was listening to music of the '60's and '70's. But the members of those bands that haven't died are getting really old. Yesterday I watched a concert on hdtv of the Moody Blues. I love the Moody Blues. I've seen them in concert a few times. I sneaked (sneaked? snuck?) backstage once and got to meet them. But this was probably about eight years ago. They were getting old then, but still had their gusto. This new concert was sad. Justin Hayward actually still looked and sounded pretty good, but that's where the hope stopped. There were two drummers on stage because the original drummer, Graeme Edge seemed like he was pushing it to even keep a simple beat, so the new, young drummer was picking up the slack. Ray Thomas wasn't on stage, so I wikipedia'd him and it said he left the band because of health problems with gout. Gout? Outside of Alzheimer's I don't know of a disease that screams elderly more than gout.
hmmm. To match my musical melancholy, Led Zeppelin's Going to California just came on. I have no right to feel sentimental over music of days past, I'm only 27, but I guess the music a person listens to in their youth always holds a special place in their heart. And that's why parents shouldn't let their kids listen to Hannah Montana, because those kids will grow up and look back on the music of their youth like I am now, and no one should ever be sentimental over Hannah Montana.