We all know that the best part of a meal is the appetizer, right? Or you usually enjoy those small in between meal snacks better than you enjoy your meals, right?

This summer, I learned about a book called “Japanese Women Don’t Get Fat” or something like that. I admit, I didn’t read it, but the summary had some great advice. The one that stuck with me is that you’re more satisfied with your meal and you stop eating if you’ve had small bits of a lot of things. I totally get how this relates to Japanese food (Have you ever seen a bento box? Small portions of a lot of things).

This year, I’ve tried to follow this principle, so I’ll make a small something and fill the plate with small bits of dried fruit, nuts, cheese, vegetables, really–whatever I’ve got lying around. It’s made for some really great meals that I can eat while I do homework or read because I can munch on different things from lunch.

This is the most recent lunch creation:

Garlic Lime Bread
Brie Cheese – leftover from the puff pastry appetizers
Figs – also leftover from the puff pastry appetizers
Olives
Walnuts

It makes for a pretty plate and keeps you interested in your meal. You don’t get bored halfway through and you’ll feel fuller and enjoy eating more. Give it a try!

Currently Cooking To:

Dispatch – Elias (Live)
Dan Mei & Marc Johnce – My Life on the Crazy Train Sucks (So What?)
Girl Talk – Bounce That

Like the lunch in this post, these song has a bunch of small bits of other songs thrown together to create one cohesive song. Elias somehow manages to keep me entertained for 11 minutes, while I can listen through Girl Talk’s whole Night Ripper album without getting bored.

I’ve been fortunate in my life to have travelled to beautiful places on this side of the pond, and across.  I live just a few hours’ drive from Georgian Bay—Blue Mountain, the Niagara Escarpment, an expanse of water relatively clean and tranquil.  I always look forward to my visits to this area, and last Saturday was no exception.  It helps that my friends own a cool little whisky place there—The Dam Pub (it’s in Thornbury, just west of Blue…).  I used to perform for the patrons there every Friday night, but on this Saturday it was a one-off, for a CD release celebration.

The Dam Pub boasts some 450+ whiskies and single malts, really good food, and a relaxed, comfortable atmosphere.  I’ve been known to quaff Guinness on the patio there during the summer.

We had a good night, and I sang and played for a few hours.  Everyone seemed to have a good time.  It’s just too bad my freakin’ back was out, otherwise I would have had a great time!  I played my best.  I don’t make for a very good patient.  This I’m told by those who have tried to help in the past.

My thanks to the staff at the pub, especially Tina who came in on her night off (with her kids!), and Gillian, Sylvia and Stephanie.  Stephanie happens to run the place and has an exceptional knowledge of whiskies, which is a dangerous thing when you’re a) me, and b) me, who happens to be there.  It’s a good thing I don’t live near the place.  A special thanks to chef Suzette, and her staff—the Chocolate Mousse was tres fine.

I encourage you to visit The Dam Pub if you’re ever in the area.

Cheers for now,

James

Well, so it’s not Friday Biscuits, but I did have a big nasty croissant this morning, so that’s what you get, loyal readers.

Soooo, this week was relatively calm, as my weeks have slowly been progressing toward a more adult and stable lifestyle over the past few months (read: not 2 am drunk at 7 pm 5 nights out of the week).  I  now save Tuesdays for a few fantastic $2 Amstel Lights at Onion Creek with Matt OC Website

Here are some fun things discovered on the interwebs this week:

Cats For Gold
Tim Burton’s Art at MoMA
Mysterio Predicts What You Will Get for the Holidays (Jaron is apparently getting me adult diapers, and Cayci will get me the same thing as last year.
Back Boobs from PoWM
Top 6 Quotes from the 2nd Jersey Shore trailer

Above, enjoy some Dispatch because I said so.

XOXO,
Terita Bonita

1. .PRETTY KISSES.

A la Ryan Gosling & Rachel Mcadams and Jane Birkin & Serge Gainsbourg and Carrie and Big

2. .BUYING FLOWERS.

3. .LITTLE BLUE DRESSES.

This LBD is a Summer Finn of (500) Days of Summer staple.

4. .MIXING SILVER & GOLD.

5. .RANDOM THINGS.

6. .NATALIE PORTMAN’S FACE.

7. .FALLING BACK IN LOVE WITH OLD FAVORITE MUSIC.

Such as Dispatch.

8. .BALLOON RACES THAT ARE PRETTY.

9. .ADORABLY-DRESSED BOYS.

10. .QUESTIONS.

Peace,

Sources: bear, longlivethequeen, fashionunder100.net, people.com, bleubird vintage, nj.com

My friend, Daniel, has this book called 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die. I’m very big into music, which I discuss with him a lot, so I took a look at the album list on their website, and it turns out that I already have fourteen of those albums. The ones I have are: Low by David Bowie, Led Zeppelin IV, The Velvet Underground and Nico, In Rainbows by Radiohead, OK Computer by Radiohead, A Rush of Blood to the Head by Coldplay, Parachutes by Coldplay, Abbey Road by The Beatles, Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band by The Beatles, The Beatles (The White Album), The Good, the Bad and the Queen, Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys, Marquee Moon by Television, and Franz Ferdinand. (I didn’t list the band if  they are in the album name.) However, this list sparked some criticism from me, as it would do to any music fan. I have a few very good albums that I think should be on the list:

Loyalty to Loyalty by Cold War Kids (2008):

Summary: A dark album by a band who has modernized American punk

This is a very powerful album by a truly dark band. But as part of why this album should be on the list, I need to to explain what I mean by “a truly dark band.” Bands all the time want to be dark because it makes them fell special because they want to be different, but they are being the most conformist. Any one who sets out to be something different from the rest is the central idea behind pop culture. Someone or something that only wants to be themselves without a be-different-to-get-attention-to-fit-in attitude is almost revolutionary. (At least in current young culture.) The be-dark-to-be-different bands have a very typical shock-and-awe sound with disgusting or morbid themes, but they are so typical that they are not grotesque. Cold War Kids are not like that at all.

I know it sounds like I’m being very anti mainstream dark hard rock, but I’m not. I only want to present the fact that the Cold War Kid have a very different sense of darkness. Musically, they shy away from the “shock and awe” tactics of hard rock. Any kind of shock value comes from their lyrics, and what makes those so powerful is the brutal, emotional, honesty of the ideas they present, much like the American protopunk artists of the late 60s and early 70s.

The Kids have upbeat, rhythmic, and somewhat atonal melodies that somehow turn into dynamic and catchy songs. But they have something to say. It’s not always nice. It’s not always happy. It’s harsh. It’s dark. And it’s smart. They are a group of very learned Kids. Loyalty to Loyalty, the bands second album, catches them at their best. On their first album, Robbers and Cowards, they had the guts to tackle such topics as alcoholism, kleptomania, abuse, terminal illness, and more (a new topic every song) including murder.

On Loyalty to Loyalty, the take a more metaphorical approach to these and other dark topics in a more intelligent way. In “Every Man I Fall For,” they use an allegory in the form of a first person story from a woman’s point of view. The this story, the narrator admits that “Every man I fall for keeps his anger on / a string and holds it tight” along with other sad affairs. In effect, the Kids describe loss of love and self devaluation. On other tracks, such as “Golden Gate Jumpers,” they take on suicide in grotesque detail:

Most folks think they’ll hit the surface / And never feel no pain / Water pulls you under / Back to the womb once again / Bodies float to the shore / Bloated purple and blue / If sharks don’t get to you first / Crabs will have their way with you

They shock their audiences lyrically, which is a departure from the shocking noise of metal or even other past punk bands. That’s not to say that they don’t use noise at times, it only implies that they are more lyrically focused.

Musically, the Kids modernize punk. Punk has continued into the present as new wave and post-punk, but Cold War Kids take a more original protopunk sound, more like the early Velvet Underground stuff. They are not as loud as punk’s fathers like Iggy Pop or the Ramones, but they sound more like the grandfathers of punk like, as I’ve mentioned, the band The Velvet Underground and the Beatles’ song “Helter-Skelter”.  They are very unique within modern music in this regard.

Cold War Kids are the only truly grotesque band out there, but their sound is more akin to coffee-house-punk (if that exists) than to brutal-yet-invariable, poser-dark bands.

Bang Bang by Dispatch (1998):

Summary: The magnum opus of one of the most talented and most popular independent bands in music history

I want to reiterate that these are must hear albums. Dispatch is one of those bands that you know what they sound like, but when you try to describe them, you come out with a massive list of terms that doesn’t quit fit. Every song has it’s own major influence, but on a whole the sound can only be described as Dispatch.

If I had to present a similar band, the only contemporary with them would be Sublime, but the sound of Sublime stops at ska, and their lyrics do not encompass ideas beyond an individual level. Dispatch uses the same instruments in a similar manner, but is able to broaden their sound to include reggae, both the New England and Southern folk, ska, bluegrass, country, blues, R&B, progressive rock, soul, classic rock, and more. Their unique influences made them one of the most popular independent bands of all time. Their farewell concert in Boston is said to have been the largest concert in independent music history. In a reunion concert series, they sold out Madison Square Garden three times. (The first in the three concert series sold out in thirty minuets.)

Bang Bang takes twelve songs and traverses the sound-spectrums that have defined so many genres. In “Bats in the Belfry,” the main instrumentation (guitar, bass, and drums) sounds very much like a bluegrass-ska mix while the studio band plays a big band brass section in the background. “Out Loud” and “The Way it Goes,”  which were recorded as-live, exemplify the dynamic vocal harmonies throughout the album and show that Dispatch can, unlike many bands, play these complex songs together as a band, a single unit. Where a lot of bands like to have series of solos or extensive vamping to show off the talents of the musician individually, Dispatch play in a way that shows that they hear each other and interweave their sounds to make complex music without putting any one of them on a pedestal above the rest in the band. (This, however, was the downfall o the band because instead of one band leader, they had three leaders each eventually conflicting with the others artistically)

“The General,” stands alone as one of the greatest songs ever written and preformed musically, vocally, and lyrically. This song has crescendos as epic as those in The Velvet Underground’s “Heroin,” vocals as dynamic as anything by The Eagles, and lyrics powerful enough to rival Bob Dylan. In short, this song is a must hear.

Stylistically, the thing that impressed me the most about this band was their use of rests. Where most bands will have insane solos or the like, this bands shows their ability as a cohesive unit. They will completely stop for a beat or two all of a sudden, and pick right back up on beat just as powerful as they were when they stopped. Dispatch is one of the most talented bands to ever exist and Bang Bang is the album that exemplifies their talent.

Mezzanine by Massive Attack (1998):

Summary: The great Massive Attack album that widened the horizons of trip-hop.

This album is by the band that created a genre that has been named by critics trip-hop which set Bristol, UK up for becoming one of the more important cities in England for musical pioneering. Massive Attack’s first album, Blue Lines, created the genre and is widely regarded as the best example of trip-hop by many critics, except me, granted that I own Mezzanine and not Blue Lines so my knowledge of the former is much greater. I consider Mezzanine to be Massive Attack’s magnum opus despite the humble title. (In architecture, a mezzanine is an intermediate floor, not counted on its own.)

Trip-Hop is a mix of downtempo, dark, and abstract sounds (“trip”) and heavy breakbeat bass, R&B influenced melodies, and hip-hop style lyrics (“hop”.) When you listen to Massive Attack’s Mezzanine, you hear everything from reggae inspired electronica with haunting vocals and crescendos in “Angel,” dark rap layered over trance melodies that incite shades of black and blue into one’s mind’s eye in “Rinsingson,” and harpsichord-filled, electronic, poetic interpretation of love in “Teardrop.” And these are just the first three songs leading off the album. (The melody of Teardrop is used as the theme music for the American airings of the TV show House.)

The uniting factor in all of this is the dark atmosphere and heavy use of artificial instrumentation, but what makes Mezzanine a must hear album is its exemplification of the wide influences of trip-hop, everything from rap, blues, house, trance, jazz, and punk. The fourth song on the album, “Inertia Creeps,” uses a similar rap/trance model to “Risingson,” but includes what sounds like a sitar (it’s probably an electric guitar with some creative playing) playing a very eastern melody reminiscent of the Beatles’ “Within You Without You.” The fifth, “Exchange,” is a jazz melody played in Massive Attack’s signature, dark, trip-hop manner. The eleventh and final song is named “(Exchange),” and is simply “Exchange” with a reggae-esque vocal overdub. Trip-Hop has actually been called a derivative of “acid jazz,” another genre developed in the UK slightly before trip-hop that takes an electronic and breakbeat approach to jazz, because of Massive Attack’s jazz tendencies.

Trip-Hop in it’s most literal and conservative definition can be defined, as Sal Cinquemani of Slant Magazine wrote in 2002, “as the merging of hip-hop and electronica until neither genre is recognizable.” What makes Mezzanine a must hear album is the way it expanded what trip-hop could, and it came from the band that defined trip-hop in the first place. After Mezzanine, trip-hop became much more than electronica and hip-hop, as Cinquemani described it. It’s jazz; it’s reggae; it’s rap; it’s punk. After Mezzanine showed the expansiveness of trip-hop, bands and artists who have a much less hip-hop sound than Massive Attack are now considered to be trip-hop bands. Any music that has electronic roots, a breakbeat style, and an experimental attitude is called trip-hop, including bands like Zero 7 who do not have the same dark atmosphere or rap influences of Massive Attack.

P.S. I haven’t proof read this yet so please post any corrections in the comments

—
Music of the Moment:

I’m going to start adding a section called “Music of the Moment” to the end of every blog post with a short list of music I’m currently into:

Songs:
“Pa Pa Power” – By Dead Man’s Bones – A cool indie song I recently discovered on xm 43
“Sun Hands” – By Local Natives – Another cool college indie song
“Drops of Jupiter” – By Train- Just a fun and ambiguous song

Albums:
Sixes and Sevens – By Adam Green – Really fun anti-folk album
Simple Things – By Zero 7 – This album has been called “a kind stepsister to Massive Attack’s dark masterpiece, Mezzanine” by Tim DiGravina of allmusic.com and it lives up to that claim
Low – By David Bowie – It’s awesome. Read about it

Why do we choose the subjects we do when we write? Some of us have political, social, or religious agendas. Some of us just want to educate, entertain, express ourselves, or cope. But I believe all writers have a reason for writing what they do.

When I first began putting stories to paper, I was a child, so I wrote children’s stories. Naturally my subjects have changed over the years. I tend to write from experience, and my life usually shows up in my stories. I’m not writing my life, but my life definitely affects everything I write.

Over the last several years, I have written stories that primarily center around justice, and I tie that to incidents that I experienced in law enforcement. Justice is rarely served, and sometimes, the only way to achieve it is to write it into a story. It is so often lacking in real life. The first time I truly encountered this was when I was stationed in Frankfurt, Germany with the Army’s 284th Military Police Company.

It was foggy that night, impossible to see beyond the beams of our patrol car. I began the shift with a lie of omission — and a new partner in a bad mood. Confessing to being the source of Beheng’s anger wasn’t an option at that moment, and I decided to save the necessary moment of truth for later, preferably as much later as possible.

The 284th was one of those assignments that everyone wanted, and we were the lucky ones to get it. We handled military-related law enforcement for Frankfurt and all of the surrounding cities. It was like being a cop in New York city – only we covered more territory. I listened quietly as Beheng ranted about his pre-shift detail, which had been the laundry room of our barracks.

We all had pre-shift details. We worked twelve-hour shifts, but before and after each shift, we had Army-related duties. Our twelve-hour shifts usually worked out to be about eighteen. After that, we did our personal chores: laundry, ironing, cleaning, and whatever else we needed to do to get ready for our next shift. It left us with no time, and we were usually functioning on two to three hours of sleep a night. There were times when we worked up to three months without days off. We were all on the verge of snapping. That night, Beheng had snapped.

And it was my fault.

He just didn’t know it yet.

I had been running late and needed to get the trash out of my room. I shared the room with Janelle Bebo. Janelle was gone, and I couldn’t ask her for help, so I took our trash and put it into the trash can in the laundry room. I was too tired to think about the consequences to whoever was responsible for the laundry room. I was just thinking about getting the trash out of my room and still making it to guard mount on time.

As I settled into the patrol car with Beheng, he began his rant. Bebo had left her trash in the laundry room. There had been a pizza box with her name on it in the trash, and he was going to let her have it the next time he saw her. Literally. He had saved the trash and was going to bury her in it. Since I was her roommate, he was taking it out on me. I debated telling him the truth right then, but I ended up deciding to save the confession for later. After all, we were both armed, and I didn’t want to get shot.

Like I said, Beheng had snapped.

It wasn’t a very busy midnight shift, so we met up with other MPs throughout the course of the night. Each time we did, the ‘trash’ subject was brought up by Beheng. He would rage on about what he was going to do to Bebo next time he saw her, and I just stood by in guilty silence, waiting for the best time to tell him. I decided that would be at the end of the shift after we’d turned in our weapons to the arms’ room.

Since we weren’t busy, we were able to do all of our security checks. There had been several terrorist bombings on military bases in the area, so we did frequent checks of those compounds to watch for suspicious activity. But we also patrolled civilian apartment complexes that housed large numbers of military personnel. We were patrolling a German apartment complex around two A.M.. Beheng was driving, and he cautiously maneuvered the different streets in the complex. It was so foggy we couldn’t even see the buildings, much less the sidewalks or the grass.

After we finished, we called in our check, and Beheng pulled out of the complex back onto the street.

We had no sooner called it in than dispatch called us back. A soldier, who was walking his dog, had discovered a dead body lying in the grass beside one of the buildings of the apartment complex. We had just driven by it but hadn’t even seen it because of the fog. We turned around, drove a few hundred feet, and parked — quickly finding the man, his dog, and the deceased.

At first, I thought I was looking at a dead child — a boy of about twelve. Here was someone’s baby. I walked as close as I could without disturbing anything and bent down, checking the child’s neck for a pulse. There was no pulse, and the skin was still warm and supple. Death had not occurred too long ago. The child’s head was completely caved in on the right side. It looked like blunt force trauma. There was no blood on the scene, so it was obvious that the death had occurred someplace else and this was a secondary crime scene. The boy had been laid flat, and his body was neatly arranged. His hands were in his pockets. He wore clean white socks. The ground was soaked from earlier rains, but those socks were pristine. They had not even touched a floor – much less the wet grass.

I stood and moved back, hoping I hadn’t contaminated the crime scene. We secured the area and started talking to apartment residents. We soon discovered that the 12-year-old boy was actually an adult woman. She was so small and boyish looking that her appearance had been deceptive. We also discovered that she was a German national, so we called in the German police.

While we waited for them, we spoke with her neighbors. She was a lesbian and a prostitute. She worked in the red-light district in Frankfurt. She and her girlfriend shared the apartment, and apparently they were involved in a lovers’ triangle. There had been a loud argument in the apartment shortly before she was found murdered. We had a general idea of what had happened, and when the polizei arrived, we attempted to tell them what we had discovered. They brushed us off and told us it was obviously a suicide.

The woman, according to them, had jumped.

I’d been with the 284th for over a year, and I had worked with many German police officers during that time. These were the first German police officers who had not impressed me.

The woman’s body was removed without any investigation, and Beheng and I were left with our mouths hanging open. We could barely believe what had just taken place. Apparently, the murder of a lesbian prostitute was not high on the priority list of these particular police officers.

Beheng had forgotten about the trash.

We were both devastated by what had just happened. The story soon spread like the flu. Everyone on duty with the 284th that night was sickened by the lack of justice for this murdered woman. Though Beheng and I had primarily been just acquaintances when our shift began, we were now bonded by this experience. We ended up our shift completely somber.

After we returned to the police station, I told Beheng the truth about the trash. He barely commented on it. A few minutes later, he asked if I could do him a favor. Would I go out to the patrol car and get his briefcase? He needed some paperwork in it. I went out, but when I came back in, he told me he didn’t have the right paperwork afterall and asked if I’d check my briefcase. Perhaps I had the right paperwork. At this point, all of the MPs who had been on duty that night had returned, and many of the MPs who were coming on duty were present.

I went to my briefcase, opened it

… and it was filled with trash.

I almost fell down laughing. Dozens of people were there when I opened that briefcase — the MPs coming on duty, and the MPs going off, the desk sergeants, and the patrol supervisors — and every one of them was laughing.

God, we needed that laugh.

I dreamed about her several times after that. In my dreams she always had my sister’s face. It still haunts me to this day. Very few people cared. Those who should have sought justice, didn’t. A heartless murderer walked free.

My writing changed after that, and it’s never been the same since.

I always make sure justice is served in my stories.

It’s so often lacking in reality.

“And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking.
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older.
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.”

“time,” Pink Floyd

    Today is officialy my last day of freedom.  I start training for my new job tomorrow.  I have been off for about a month and a half and it has been soo nice.  Angela and I had a lot of time to spend together and do fun stuff like go to the fair and camping in eastern Washington.

    I am really excited to start my new job as a dispatcher.  During my vacation I took time out to study fire and police codes as well as the phoenetic alphabet.  I visited the call center to listen to calls and I think that was a big help.  My main goal was to go into this with some sort of idea of what goes on. 

    Anxious and nervous are two words I would use to describe how I feel about tomoorow.

I wrote this a while ago but i totally meant it.

My latest cd, dispatch from purgatory, is now available on iTunes.  Just click this link and bring your Visa card.

So I made an epic discovery last week.

I have found the world’s first and only time machine.

While I might be tempted to see if Jesus was a cool dude, my first setting on the dial is July 31, 2004. Why a random day from my 14th year? That, my friends, is Dispatch’s last concert ever. It wasn’t until a few years after that summer day that I first heard of Dispatch.

I wish I could be "dispatched" into concerts of music's past.

And that is when I started compiling the Time Machine List. 

I have this Time Machine List running in my head. It’s a list of bands I would to have loved to see play, either when they were still together or at a different time in their musical career. The List ranges from bands that broke up recently, before I “discovered” them – like Dispatch, to bands that were gone long before I got here – like the Grateful Dead, to bands I believe hit their prime long before I found them – like Taking Back Sunday (think TBS circa 2002, the Tell All Your Friends era), to Beethoven.

Bands that recently broke up before I ever had a chance to see them live are at the very top of the List. Discovering them, and then discovering they broke up a mere few years ago blows. Like listening to the Beatles, you know that you never had a chance. You were negative years old, not even thought up yet, when they were touring. But someone like Dispatch? Damn, they are on the Time Machine List in a major way.

The coolest thing is when a somewhat recently split band is on the List, and they get back together. I’m lucky enough to be able to have crossed two such bands off the List – No Doubt and Blink 182. Best thing ever. 

Bands that have been long gone are mostly toward the bottom of the List – like the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Grateful Dead, Led Zeppelin… the classics mostly. They were around long before I existed; far less regret exists for not seeing them. 

No doubt about it--everyone who hasn't seen a No Doubt performance is missing out.

Bands that hit their prime before I found them are closer to the top of the list. The consoling fact is that I can still see them. But looking back at old footage, what old school fans say, what their sound evolved from, I’ve gotta wish I discovered them long ago. Andrew McMahon (formerly of Something Corporate, currently of Jack’s Mannequin), Taking Back Sunday and Paramore all fall into this category. 

And then there’s Beethoven. He’s got a spot toward the middle of the List. Basically, I respect the hell out of his music, think it’s beautiful and filled with emotion, and how bad-ass would it be to say I saw Beethoven?! Oh, you saw the Red Hot Chili Peppers? Well, I saw fucking Beethoven. Automatic win. 

I would give you more details about the Time Machine List. Like how I stumbled across it, how it works, and so on. 

But Dispatch awaits.

~Lauren Oppedisano

Press Release – Boston, MA – July 7, 2009

How Service Business Owners Easily Manage their Dispatching with ServiceCEO

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Continue reading…

About Insight Direct, Inc.
Boston-based Insight Direct develops and markets the award-winning product ServiceCEO that enables field service organizations to manage their day-to-day operations, including scheduling, dispatching, invoicing, inventory management, customer marketing, payroll and much more. ServiceCEO is recognized as the most widely used business management software solution for the field service industry which includes HVAC, Plumbing, Residential and Commercial Cleaning, Computer Services, Alarm and Security, Pool and Spa, and many other service industries. For more information, visit www.InsightDirect.com or call 800.471.4200.

If you are looking for dispatch software for your field service company, you have come to the right place. There is no better dispatch software to help manage the dispatching needs of your field service business than ServiceCEO.

Our dispatching software enables you to efficiently deploy your employees and optimize travel routes to save time and fuel. ServiceCEO helps you save money in other ways by consolidating and streamlining job scheduling, estimating, invoicing, inventory control, service contracts and more.

Click to learn how your company can save time and money with Insight Direct’s Dispatch Software.

Sad, sad, sad.  Yesterday I found myself in quite a pickle.  It was not the kind of pickle that would require wearing DOC orange for the forseeable future.  (I must add the only thing that has deterred me from committing crimes against others is my skin, eye and hair color are NOT compatible with the jewel tone that is Department of Corrections orange!)  This pickle was a cucumber of the most bitter, sour, gag inducing, bile forming brine.

I found myself standing on the sidewalk in front of the Aquarium crying.  The more I tried not to cry, the harder I cried.  I continued to cry while simultaneously failing miserably at hiding from tourists, children, office workers, the Inner Harbor hospitality patrol and the throngs of bodies that make up touristy downtown Baltimore.  I hid behind tall grasses and ended up  looking more like a junkie trying to shoot up than an hysterical female in a pickle. 

My motto for many years now, compliments of a former colleague who was never without a clever quip, is “There’s NO crying in dispatch!”  And that is simply the evolution of my belief from pre-teenhood that I had to be as tough as Catherine Earnshaw.  (Anyone, Anyone? Bueller, Bueller?  Wuthering Heights, duh) Imagine my shame..failing both Catherine and Rita? 

I’m a tough broad.  I can take alot.  I can look at alot.  I can listen to alot.  Fire Service, 911, Police Dispatch — they all were opportunities to experience what was often a worst day in someone’s life.  A day that no matter the outcome, will reside in the minds and stories of that person and their circle of friends. 

I never cried – the deceased days old baby that suffocated–I (and my seasoned partner) was first on the scene and it was my first dead guy.  Watching the mother of the child rocking back and forth crying so hard no sound came out, her fingers grasping the wooden bars of the crib so hard her knuckles were almost translucent was painful and gut-wretchingly sad– but I didn’t cry.

On the phone listening for signs of life and trying to walk a husband through the process of CPR on his dying wife in a bathtub of their home-on Father’s Day no less–was hard.  Those kinds of calls are–always.  But I didn’t cry. (Remember: There is no crying in dispatch.)

There was one call in which a teen girl fell face first off of a moving vehicle.  She was sitting on the hood–friend inside moved the car quickly backwards.  She fell forward and landed on her face.  Upon arival she was inconsolable.  The boys (the paid firefighters who taught and tolerated me and I loved every one of them!  Thanks guys and Rosie, I’ll love you forever–my mentor and friend!) happily handed her off to me. 

She repeated over and over how she just wanted her mom.  She asked about her face.  I held her hand and told her how that very day my car caught on fire, my stuff burned up; even my tapes (way before CD’s) were wavy and crunchy.  The car was lost.  And when I got back to the fire station, all I wanted to do was call my mom.  She laughed.  Later her face was so horrifically swollen I didn’t recognize her.  In my mind she became the Great Pumpkin(face).  But when we arrived at the hospital, there was her mom and then she cried.

So now here I am at the Aquarium bawling! Catherine and Rita be damned.  This pickle involved my children and what they got or didn’t from a man I thought I knew and admired at one time.   This once hardworking, caring, giving, contributing human being had become a cold, angry, defensive bastard.  I suppose the realization, frustration, anger and sadness of eight years on behalf of my kids finally got me!  I cried.  Those tears came like a break in the Hoover Damn. 

When one is at one of life’s most difficult moments and the tears are pouring whom do we call?  If we are lucky, our Mom.  And that is exactly what I did–blubbering all the way.  Somehow she had the magic to make those moments manageable.  The burden seemed less.  That magic was not in the handbook I got when I left the hospital with my boys!

My neighbor just lost his mom.  What do you do then?  I’d bet that like The Great Pumpkin(face), the lady who lost her baby, the man who lost his wife , my neighbor– they needed their moms.  I mean I’m 44 and I needed my Mommy that day–and everyday.  I think really we all do–always.

According to some, both in the media and in government, indeed we are. Om  of the latest to opine is Secretary of Transportation Ray LaHood. The Secretary made his comments to the Columbus, Oh. Dispatch newspaper in response to criticism of the President making 5 appearance on Sunday news shows this past week. He said”trash talk” on conservative talk radio and tv shows( hint: Limbaugh and Beck although he did not name anyone).He said that the nation’s ability to solve its big problems is being impeded.

“‘He( Obama) can’t even compete with all this stuff that people are saying about him, so the idea that he did five interviews Sunday, that’s just miniscule compared to the kind of trash talk that goes on all week prior to that.”

“All of this background, all of this trash talk in the background, it does not contribute to civil discourse…”

Now , pay close attention to this next response and see what comes to mind( Does the term Fairness Doctrine sound familiar?). He was asked if he could envision any changes in the media that might reverse this trend of incivility.His response,”In a word, no.Unless the people decide…to shut it off, to turn it off.” Inadvertently, he mat have said more than he intended. If people don’t want to hear or watch Limbaugh or Beck, et. al, they can watch Olbermann or Maddow or Cooper or listen to Air America. Apparently, th have not made that choice , in significant numbers, at least to this point.

One other thought. What level of discourse is  acceptable and who decides. Perhaps Mr LaHood should check out some of the criticism that Lincoln  faced and see how civil that was.

The New York Art Book Fair hosted by Printed Matter will be taking place on the weekend of October 2-4 at PS1 Contemporary Art Center in Long Island City, Queens.  This is by far my favorite art event of the year!  The entire weekend of events is free, with the exception of the Preview and Benefit Party on Thursday October 1st, and the Contemporary Artists’ Book Conference which coincides with The Book Fair.  For more specifics take a look at the NY Art Book Fair website.

My personal highlights include the following exhibitors: 2nd Cannons Publications, ANARTIST, Art Metropole, Bidoun Magazine, Boekie Woekie, Dispatch, GAGARIN, J&L Books, Kayrock, and Primary Information, as well as the “Friendly Fire” section which includes Golden Age, Nieves Books, Ooga Booga, and Paper Tiger Television.

Fun and exciting events will be taking place in The Classroom, which is curated by The MoMA Library Bibliographer David Senior.  More details about these events and reporting during the weekend of The Book Fair coming soon!

The old cliché is to write about what you know.  While writing what you know is easy, writing about what you love can be difficult.  When your feelings are so deep and the passion so unrestrained, words simply become inadequate.

It is with this at the forefront of my mind that I try to espouse my true feelings for my iPod.

First things first.  It’s iPod.  It’s not I-Pod or IPOD or MP3 player.  It’s iPod.  How would you like it if I called your mom by the wrong name or a generic name like, well, mom.  Bad example.  Still.  Get it right, please.

That out of the way, allow me to simply state that outside of my wife and children, nothing has changed my life as much as my iPod.  It has changed road trips.  It has changed how I fall asleep.  It has changed how I get my news and opinion (yes, Virginia, there is a difference).  It has even changed my trips to the bathroom.  Who needs the Sunday Dispatch when you can listen to a podcast on Salmon fishing in Lake Michigan?

Several years into my relationship with my gorgeous, sleek 30GB video iPod, she still looks and sounds as beautiful as she did the morning I unwrapped her.  How many things can you really say that about? I’m looking at you TMobile Dash.  Lousy tramp.

I will leave my house without my keys before I leave without my iPod.  I am truly lost without it.  I have about four different ways to charge it so I am never left with a lifeless shell of a partner.  I sync it multiple times a day.  Just in case the new PTI podcast has been uploaded.  Or maybe the Instance.  Yes, I listen to a Warcraft podcast.  Don’t you dare judge me.

But it’s not all about podcasts.  Literally, my taste in music prior to my iPod consisted of anything done by Journey and the occasional impulse buy of a CD after hearing a track on Sunny 95’s love songs.  Seriously.  Ask Coke.  I routinely embarrassed her with my musical library.

Here’s an actual conversation that took place:

[radio playing]

ME: Who’s this?

Coke:  My God, man.

ME:  Seriously, who is this?  Is it new?

Coke: This is the Steve Miller Band…”The Joker”

ME: Awesome…I’ll keep an eye out for them on Regis and Kelly

Coke: You’re an idiot.

Since my iPod and my near obsession with iTunes and its “suggestion machine,” it is I who am introducing HER to artists.  I have actually been to several concerts post iPod.  Pre-iPod, my concert experience consisted of a James Taylor excursion with Coke early in our relationship and a trip with my parents to see Chicago.  I was in high school.  Really.  It was that bad.

Now, artists like Amos Lee, Marc Broussard, Ben Harper, Ansley Lister, Tom Waits, Brendan James, Tyrone Wells, Stephen Kellogg, Joshua Radin and Stephen Ashbrook are consistently on my playlists.  Can you tell I’ve also developed a music “type?”

As the years have gone by, my relationship with my iPod has only gotten stronger.  I rely on it more now than ever.  What’s better at the park…being left alone with your own thoughts of your daughter’s imminent death by monkey bar or allowing those thoughts to be drowned out by the latest by Taylor Swift…er…I mean [thinking of something manly] Bruce Springsteen.  I think you know.

I bring all this up because I am sick and tired of my relationship with my iPod being scrutinized and demonized.  Yes, I love it.  I am never without it.  But I am very courteous.  If someone is talking to me, sure, I’ll turn it off.  I won’t take out my earbuds, let’s not be ridiculous, but I’ll turn it off.  If my daughters are talking to me, I’ll turn down the volume so I can respond to Chicken Nugget’s question about flushing Diego down the toilet.  I’m not rude.

All kidding aside, there have been several instances where I have been scolded for my iPod use.  Most recently, fresh from my decision to be a SAHD, I took French Fry to see a morning screening of The Tale of Despereaux.  This certainly wasn’t the first time we had seen this movie.  Nor was it the first time the 50,000 children and 15 adults that were in the theater had seen it.  It was a Wednesday morning screening.  For $1.

There was a particularly rowdy group sitting next to us and bleeding over into the row behind us.  It was clear there were several moms using the darkness and the distraction to pop a few Xanax and take turns catching up on sleep.  Prior to the movie, I heard one say that they would save the three seats directly to my right for “Judgie McJudgerson.”

The movie begins, the rat does something…there’s soup involved…Matthew Broderick is pretending he’s a mouse so he doesn’t have to think about being married to Sarah Jessica Parker and not Carrie Bradshaw.  So I lift the armrest, grab French Fry to cuddle, pop in my earbuds and turn on the latest “Left, Right and Center” political podcast from NPR.

Eventually “Judgie McJudgerson” stumbles into the theater, well after the movie started, with her miniature minions trailing behind her fighting over what was undoubtedly a box of Sour Patch Kids.  They clamor over to the seats that had been reserved for them and make a big production of [very loudly] explaining their tardiness, the appreciation of the reserved seats and something else that was drowned out by Dustin Hoffman’s droning.

They finally settle in and my focus goes back to the completely ridiculous rants of Bob Scheer.  A few minutes later, there’s a tap on my shoulder.  I look over and it’s Judgie McJudgerson.  I’m figuring she wants to run out for a ”five-hour energy” fix and wants me to keep an eye on her kids.  Nope.  She tells me that my iPod is bothering her and I either needed to move or turn it off. It was detracting from her enjoyment of the movie.

Seriously.

I was absolutely incredulous.  There are so many things wrong with this, I don’t have enough bandwidth to list them.  But let me get you started.  There were literally hundreds of kids under 8 in that theater.  It wasn’t exactly the audience of Julie and Julia.  Her own kids were adding their share to the decibel level in the theater.  It was a $1 showing of the Tales of freaking Despereaux.  She showed up late and bothered everyone with her prattling on about the reasons for her problem with promptness.  And perhaps most importantly, IT WAS THE TALES OF FREAKING DESPEREAUX.

Now, understand, if I was truly bothering her, I would be happy to do this.  There’s nothing I hate more than someone else’s actions disrupting my movie-going experience.  But if my iPod had been loud enough to bother her that much, the first person to yell at me would have been French Fry.  She takes her animated rodent movies very seriously and she was a lot closer to my earbuds than Judgie.  Thankfully.

I was too flabbergasted to say anything so I just complied.  Begrudgingly.  I spent the rest of the movie reassuring my iPod that it wasn’t her fault and I still loved her.

Was this out and out anti-iPod hatred?  Was it SAHD prejudice?  Was it simply a woman who was miserable and wanted everyone else to be living in her hell?  Or was I generally inappropriate for consummating (again) my relationship with my beloved Apple product in that venue?  Hurry.  I’m in Starbucks and this Teva-wearing, soy milk-drinking librarian-type looks like she’s about to say something.

    I have finally made my exit from the retail world.  Honestly I couldn’t feel any better.  I no longer have to spend my days making money for someone else!  Making money for other people is no longer in my job description.  Saving lives and helping to keep the county running smoothly is my new task.

    Since my last post the job as a dispatcher for 911 has been offered to me….full time even.  Serving coffee will be something missed dearly.  It has been part of my life for the past four years.  Interacting with the public will be what I miss the most.  If I had the opportunity to move up where I was things would be different but they were becoming stagnant.  Being under appreciated and having to deal with double standards in something as trivial as tamping too hard got me down.  Worrying about coffee is something I didn’t want to deal with anymore.  I needed something more.

    The best part is that the coffee world is still accessible almost at a new level.  Instead of a job it is now a hobby which is totally fine with me.  I still have a passion for coffee, something that no one can take from me.  Through all of my time on the other side of the counter I have realized how much I needed out.  I definitely will miss my co-workers very much and the relationships I built behind the counter.

Today wasn’t supposed to be our last day in Wellington. No, that was supposed to be yesterday. The cable company disconnected our service in the morning. The power company came out to read the meter one last time. We handed our keys over to the new tenants. What furniture they didn’t buy from us we loaded into a truck last weekend and delivered it to the people who had won in it auctions on the Kiwi version of eBay, TradeMe, or to our South African friends, Neil and Jeanne, who are mostly devoid of their own furniture. Anything we won’t need over the next six weeks we packed into suitcases and loaded on a boat heading the same direction as us.

Our friend Kent picked us up yesterday afternoon and we spent the afternoon at his house, avoiding the Wellington rain and entertaining his “three-and-three-and-a-half-quarters”-year-old neighbor, which mostly consisted of playing games like Whoever The Trivial Pursuit Dial Lands On Gets One Monopoly Dollar and Aurora Can’t Talk Until The Boggle Hour Glass Runs Out. Later that night, after dinner with Kent and his girlfriend Garrity at a Kiwi restaurant, Dean and Grisham came over to play a game of Trivial Pursuit. Appropriate, considering the four of us forged a friendship over weekly film-themed quiz nights at Wellington’s Paramount Theatre. I managed a come-from-behind victory, despite only have four pie pieces to Kent, Dean and Grisham’s six, when my final question was “Which fictional film character’s mother said ‘Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get’?” Prior to this, the trivia from the orange category had been next-to-impossible, mostly focusing on Kiwi and Aussie candies and sweets. I’m a bit suspicious that Dean made up the final question to put an end to the four-hour game.

Side note: If you think you are good at Boggle, you need to take on the Canadian legend Garrity Hill. You are not better than Garrity. No, you are not. I promise.

We said our goodbyes to Dean and Grisham, I distributed a few manhugs, and we tucked in for the night, ready to wake up early and get on a bus for Taupo. From there, we’d visit Rotorua, then Auckland, where we’d reunite with our Kiwi Experience friend Fabio, and spend a day or two in the Far North. The two weeks after that will take us to Australia, where we’ll start out in Cairns and follow the Great Barrier Reef south as we drive to Sydney. Then it’s Fiji for a week, Los Angeles for another, and then Las Vegas for five days, where we’ll spend Colombus Day Weekend with Stacy’s entire family. We arrive back in Miami October 13, thirteen months and two days after we left. We’ve been asked a few times if we’ll return to live in New Zealand and, while I love Wellington and would like to, we just don’t know. We don’t know where we’ll live in the U.S. when we get back (though we have an eye towards LA), or where we’ll go to grad school, for if we’ll even get into grad school. It’s a bit scary and exciting at the same time to think that we both don’t know what the next step will be, or even in which direction it will be.

But Wellington wasn’t ready to get rid of us just yet. Three weeks ago, I called the Kiwi Experience to book the next leg of our trip. (We never completed the trip on our nation-wide pass we purchased back in November to tour the South Island). At the time, we were scheduled to leave September 2 at 8:00 AM. The Kiwi bus parks over night in front of the Base Hostel, which you pass driving from Kent’s to the YHA Hostel, where it was picking us up. This morning, the bus wasn’t there. Don’t panic, I told myself. It’s dropping people off at the ferry terminal, or picking people up at other hostels. Kent dropped us off at 7:40 (he got a manhug too) and we checked at the front desk of the YHA to be to sure we hadn’t missed the bus. They said we hadn’t. Eight rolled around and no one else lined up to get on the bus. At 8:10 I got out my laptop and checked to make sure I hadn’t booked a bus for tomorrow and that a bus was in fact leaving Wellington. The timetable I downloaded off the Kiwi Experience Web site said one was. At 8:15 I called the Kiwi Experience. There was no bus coming.

A week ago, they changed their timetables, cancelling the busses on just about every day we had planned to travel through the North Island. They say they tried to call us, e-mail us, notify the hostels that we weren’t staying in, and managed to fail in every attempt. We booked into YHA for the night, the hostel we stayed in a year ago when we first arrived in Wellington, and rescheduled our trip north over breakfast.

You can’t beat Wellington on a sunny day, or that’s what they say around here, at least. I’ve come to think it’s true. There are worse days to be stranded in Wellington. Last week it was in the high 40s (F) with gale force winds. Today, though, it was one of those days that’s hard to beat. We decided it was a blessing in disguise. We had a day to see the city one last time, to spend it the way we did when we got here: exploring Wellington, with nothing but the clothes locked away in the YHA to our name, and nothing to do.

We walked around the harbour, visited the crepe man, got some gelato from Stacy’s favorite place, took a nap on the grass in a park near our old flat, and we hiked up Mount Victoria to its breathtaking lookout. We had been to it before with my parents and brother. That was on a rainy day and we went up the mountain in a car, and only spent as much time up there as it took to watch a storm blow in from the south. This time the weather permitted us to stay up there as long as we wanted and we could see all of Wellington. We spotted Oriental Bay (we ran and rode bikes along it a few times a week); St. Mary’s Church (we walked behind it every time we went home); Willis Street (Stacy managed a store on it); Kilbirnie Pool (where we taught swimming, right across from Jeanne and Neil’s house); Aro Valley (Mable and Philip live there); Newtown (home of Dean, Grisham, Kent and, towards the end of his stay in NZ, Greg, the last member of our quiz team); and two of the many Weta buildings (where I worked for a short time).

Walking up there today, Stacy and I were on foot, with a vague sense of which direction we had to go. After a few wrong turns that mostly sent us up steps, then back downhill, only to walk uphill again at the next road, we found a path through the greenbelt that led to the lookout. Even if we didn’t know where we were going, we found our way.

And we will again.

The following is a tribute to the musicians that have recently been dancing in my earnubs.

Yes, some of these musicians should not be compared. Ex. Jimi Hendrix compares to no one, and neither do the Beatles, but how could I leave them out? No, I do not want your criticism if “Regina Spektor sucks!” because she doesn’t. She rocks. Tu she. Yes, I think that if you like one or more of the musicians I listed, you should check out some others, and you will probably be happy! (I am your own personal Pandora Radio) and finally,

NO, none of these pictures are rightfully mine. I have taken them from Google images. After recently having my work plagiarized, the last thing I want to do is accept credit for work that is not mine, so again, THESE PICTURES ARE NOT MINE. whew.

and now, I present to you:

The Beatles:

Nothing needs to be said.

Jimi Hendrix: Again, No words are needed.

And now for more personal choices:

Ben Kweller: He’s just a penny on the train tracks.  Some people consider his music folk, and his newer album certainly is. But his older stuff was, I’m not really sure, just mellow. Excellent, really. His most popular song is probably “Penny on the Train Tracks” or “Sundress”.

Ben Folds: Jazzy Piano, crazy lyrics, bizarre songs. I went to a concert this past winter and he introduced the audience to his method of making his grand piano sound electric. Simply take metal objects (He used an Altoids container) and place them on top of the strings. Duh? He’s known for a variety of music. Some songs are just him on the piano, and some songs have 4 other members playing various instruments. His well known songs are “Brick”, “Not the Same”, “Army”, “Landed”, and “Gone” (among others…)

Bishop Allen: I honestly can’t say I know much about this band besides the fact that, well, they’re awesome. I think I read that it’s two guys who travel and record with guests they meet? That could be completely false, I don’t know. It’s something along those lines, but I think that it’s mostly two guys. Either way, the music is very mellow, fun, and clever. It’s difficult to dislike. You may have heard their songs “Click, Click, Click, Click” or “Like Castanets”.

Coldplay: I probably don’t need to say much about them. They are incredible. I went to their concert in June. Talk about a band who loves their fans…

Death Cab for Cutie: You probably know them. An indie rock band. Mellow, again. (I am the queen of mellow music.) Most recently known for “I Will Possess Your Heart”, but they’ve been around for awhile. An old favorite is “Tiny Vessels”. Really great band with a nice amount of variety.

Dispatch: Little needs to be said here. Wish they were still touring.

Guster: An alternative rock band, known for being excellent live. Again, mellow. From here on out, assume all of the bands are mellow unless I say otherwise. This band has changed over time. At first, they sounded more like Dispatch, and now they sound maybe a bit more like Death Cab? They’ve been good since the start, but they’ve certainly changed over time. Some popular songs: “Mona Lisa” “Satellite” & “I Hope Tomorrow is Like Today”

Incubus: Another band that doesn’t need much said. Except, this band IS NOT MELLOW. Some stuff is, but much of it is very much of the Rock variety. Some of their music is electroniccy but far from techno. They’re famous for their songs “Drive” “Wish You Were Here” “Anna Molly” “Dig” and countless others. Their lyrics are incredible.

Jack Johnson: Again, little needs to be said. He’s an incredible and very well known musician. Little known fact: He was a champion surfer before he started his music career! But that’s besides the point. he has countless famous songs. Much of his music is acoustic and consists of just his voice and his guitar. I <3 JackJohnson

Jason Mraz: I knew and loved Jason Mraz before his hit single “I’m Yours”. In fact, I knew that song an entire year before it was recorded and produced. There was a live version on youtube that I replayed over and over again. But anyway, he’s a great musician. Very talented vocally and musically in general. His lyrics are very clever. I classify his music as “summer music” but, he’s good all 12 months of the year.

John Mayer: Oh John Mayer, I wish it did not all go to your head! I must admit, my respect for John Mayer has gone down significantly. His music has always been good but he’s gotten very cocky. I went to a John Mayer concert, and something wasn’t quite right. It was great but he seemed to have a mentality that he was only doing it to get paid. His older stuff is really great though. Albums: Heavier Things, Room for Squares and Continuum are all really great. Now if Ionly had a pin to deflate his ego a bit…

Joshua Radin: A relatively little known musician. He only really started touring in 2004, I think. I guess he could be considered a combination of folk and acoustic with rock as dessert. He reminds me a lot of Jack Johnson, but a bit more  serious I guess. I’m not even sure what I mean by that. But I digress, Joshua Radin rocks.

Matt Nathanson: His single “Car Crash” was the free single of the week on iTunes several years ago. After listening to the 30 second clip, I decided it was definitely worth all zero cents. I later purchased the rest of the album (Some Mad Hope) and was more than satisfied. He’s considered a combination of folk and rock. Mellow, yet again. He’s relatively new still, so I’m not sure how many albums he has out, but one of his most famous songs is “Come On Get Higher”. If you like O.A.R., Jack Johnson,Jason MrazJohnMayer-any of them, check him out.

Matt Costa: Think: Jack Johnson. I believe he’s produced by Brushfire Records which is Jack Johnson’s record company. I know they have done a few songs together too. But either way, they sound very similar and their songs are generally in the same genre. Both are excellent musicians, so don’t think that just since you like one, there’s no point in looking into the other.

O.A.R. (Of A Revolution): A rock band that I often find myself putting in “summer playlist”. Again, they are great summer music but I love them all year around. They’ve produced several albums and tour every summer. I’ve seen them in concert three times, and never once have been disappointed. They put on a great live show. Personally my favorite song is “Heard The World” but they are known for “Love and Memories” and “Hey Girl”. One nice thing about O.A.R. is that they feature a saxophone which makes them different than many other bands and adds a really nice touch.

Radiohead: An alternative rock band from England. They were famous there first and then eventually spread to the US. Their music is rock but it’s undoubtedly got some electronic and jazzy influences throughout. This band had got good lyrics, but their music is what does it for me. It’s really just incredible. Certain songs will catch you by surprise with how full they are. They’re known for a LOT of their songs but I’d say that some of the most famous are “Fake Plastic Trees” “High and Dry” and “Creep”.

The Red Hot Chilli Peppers: They became a bit overrated for awhile there with their debut of “Dani California” and “Californication”. It seemed like one too many fifth graders were walking around with their rolly backpacks singing these songs they so did not understand. But this was hardly the fault of the band. They’ve redeemed themselves by staying out of the spotlight. But their older stuff is amazing. Some of it is crazy and ridiculous and makes me wonder. “True Men Don’t Kill Coyotes” is weird, and don’t even get me started on the song “Mommy Where’s Daddy”. But their old stuff is classic and will always be some of my faves.

Regina Spektor: Actually named Reginka, but then changed unofficially after moving to the U.S. from Russia. There’s really not one genre that Regina sticks to. If I had to choose a few I’d say folk, rock, jazz, classical. But that hardly helps. Her lyrics are sometimes crazy, and she usually writes about her imagination, rather than situations in her own life. She’s got a really incredible voice with an incredible range. Not everyone would like her, but I love her. I’d say her most famous songs are “Fidelity”, “Apres Moi” and “Hotel Song”.

Sigur Ros: An Icelandic rock band. Their music reminds me of Radiohead and Coldplay. Almost all of their music is in Icelandic or whatever the language is that they speak there. But the music is incredible. I looked up some of the lyrics and they are also really good, but just, difficult to understand unless you speak the language. The music is very calm, and puts me to sleep instantly. My personal favorite song is “Saeglopur”.

State Radio: An alternative rock band. Chad Urmson, a former member of Dispatch, is the lead singer. This band is similar to Dispatch, yet not the same. Their lyrics focus a lot of war, human rights, and humanitarian issues. I’ve seen them live, and they were amazing. Some well known songs: “Right Me Up” “Mr. Larkin” “Camilo”.

Sublime: Sublime is just, sublime. (No pun intended). I love them.

Zox: I was taken to a ZOX concert knowing nothing of the band. I was pleasantly surprised when they turned out to be a very talented group. They are reggae-ish rock… with electric violin. A bit eccentric, except, not really. Really great band. A nice variety of upbeat songs and calm ones. I’m a big fan of “Goodnight” “The Wait Part 2″ and many others.

And, here concludes my long winded analysis of amazing musicians. I hope I have inspired you to check out some new music. If so, I’d love it if you let me know! If not, then you should probably hit up Pandora Radio. :]

and that my friends, is all she wrote.

Victoriously,

Rachel

I applied to become a dispatcher for 911 a year ago. I was subjected to all the tests and interviews and ended up being approved for hire. Unfortunately I didn’t get the 90% that was needed to be hired the first round. So I was put into a pool of people to be hired, and since August of last year I have been told to call every month to see if or when I was up for hire. Twelve months of calling in and being told to call next month. Due to the “economic situation” it has taken this long, but I believe it has come to an end. A few weeks ago I was told they will be hiring sometime in October and that I am first on the list!

I have had this never ending knot in my stomach. It’s been so tough because where i am at right now financially is the ghetto and this job would be an upgrade to a gated community. Three time more than what I am making now I would make there. I need that. I feel like I work so hard for so little and I need out! I feel like I want to do something more important than serve coffee. I want to help people in need. I have been doing the coffee thing for four years now and I feel I have hit the plateau. I don’t want to make money for someone else anymore. I want to make money for me. I want real responsibility.