I'm writing this on Friday about 5:30 p.m., UK time. The two-star hotel I'm staying in doesn't have Internet access, so I'll post this blog entry later -- probably when I'm back in the States.
Yesterday, Thursday, was mostly a travel day. I had breakfast at the hotel in the Portmeirion village, then caught the shuttle to the Minffordd station for my 10:05 a.m. train. Weird thing was, it headed back towards Liverpool; I got off a few spots before the Beatles' birthland at the Wolverhampton station, around 12:30 p.m.
The actual train to Glasgow left a little before 3 p.m. I was looking forward to it because it was Virgin -- I've heard good things 'bout their airline -- but it was a letdown (little legroom and the spots didn't have any racks, unlike the Wales Arriva line). On the plus side, a senior sat next to me and she turned out to be good company (even though she read from a Christian pamphlet). She lives in Glasgow, though I think she grew up in Wales, and was coming back from visiting a friend in south Britain.
The Virgin train rolled into Glasgow on time a bit after 7 p.m. I grabbed a taxi to my lodgings: don't laugh . . . it's called the Swallow Hotel. OK, now laugh!
The hotel is right off an interstate and half the shops around here are out of business with steel shutters closed down -- very gritty. Reminds me of South Philly, the part down by the shipyard and industrial parks.
After checking in, it was a bit past 8, so I got dinner in the hotel's restaurant. I ordered fettuccine in a liquidy tomato sauce with a coating of cheese on top.
I crashed a little before 11 after watching some telly. Of course, there's a Scottish channel.
Today, Friday, I got up before 8 a.m., then had breakfast downstairs: two pieces of toast, beans, sausage and OJ.
I hopped in a taxi around 10:10 a.m. and told the driver to take to the Glasgow Science Centre. Before I went in, I took some pics of local landmarks, including BBC Scotland, a blue bridge and an amphitheatre where there are evening concerts.
The Science Centre cost 9.95 to get in (not that I minded -- need to get rid of all these pounds before I go home), but it was bit of a letdown. It's geared more towards kids. My two nephews, ages six and five, would've loved it. Only thing that made me smirk was the stringless harp: invisible lasers create sound when you pluck it.
Leaving the Science Centre, I opened my Union Jack umbrella (can't believe this London purchase still works) to battle a drizzle. A cab took me to the Botanic Gardens.
A light rain began falling when I passed under the Botanic Gardens' concrete arch. I made a beeline for the Kibble Palace, a glasshouse that is awesome! Inside are circa 1900 sculptures of Biblical figures. Near the entrance is a leafy display with a circular pond as a base; in the pond are koi fish. Also inside the Kibble Palace are plants from Australia and South America, as well as carnivorous plants including everyone's favourite: Venus flytraps, though they're real small.
The Botanic Gardens also has a main greenhouse, which is pretty extensive -- has something like 10 rooms. Real humid in some of them. What caught my eye were petrified termite mounds and a plant that eats insects like ants. The plant is cup-shaped and its aroma lures in pests; once they go in too far, they can't escape the stick-sweet.
Next stop was the Glasgow Necropolis. On paper it sounded cool. A bunch of affluent, 19th-century Glasgowians paying homage to themselves with ornate crypts, but the rain was still coming down, so I ducked into a nearby religious museum, where the third floor gave me a good pic of the Necropolis. The museum also had a "Digging Up Glasgow" exhibit, which featured a 3,000-year-old arrowhead. Wow!
Afterwards, I walked several blocks to a cafe. I had to go that far because most shops were closed up. As a dried off in the cafe, I had a bacon cheeseburger and Old Jamaican ginger-beer soda.
The rain really started to come down now (about 2 p.m.). I tried waving a cab down but he pointed behind him at a taxi stand. I caught a cab that took me to Kelvingrove Art Gallery & Museum, a recommendation from that old bird on train yesterday.
The Kelvingrove Museum was amazing! They stress Scotland's history but also have other art, such as Italian, Dutch, French, etc. And on one of the upper floors, they had a small sculpture of FDR. Oh, and there were some modern art, along with exhibits dedicated to dinosaurs and Ancient Egypt (they had tombs from 2,500 BC, if memory serves).
It's about 6:30 p.m. right now. The plan is to get some fish and chips for dinner then try and crash around 9 'cause I gotta get up at 3:30 a.m. for my 6:55 a.m. Not looking forward to that. Three connections: Glasgow to Birmingham to Paris to (finally) Philly. Hope they're all running on time. . . .
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Portmeirion, day 2
Yesterday, Wednesday, it rained for the first half of the day, so I did most of my touristy things in the afternoon and evening.
In the morning, I had breakfast in the village down at the hotel because the shops and cafes didn't open till 10 or so.
Around 11 a.m., I stopped in the Prisoner shop and bought a little Portmeirion travel bag. I wanted to get cookies and fudges for everyone back home, but I would need to get four boxes, and I just don't have the room in my luggage.
The rain finally let up around 2 p.m. (I had spent most of the morning in my room reading that Cure bio), so I headed down the road in the village to a cafe. Got a tuna salad on a roll; it was more like a tuna sandwich -- really good.
After lunch, I wandered around and took as many pics as I could, including on this hiking trail where I was looking for this plant with three-foot-wide leaves. I was snapping so many pictures that my battering konked out after about two hours.
I retired to my room and put on channel 5 at five o'clock for some Portmeirion programming, but I messed up -- they aired it at four, so I showered and hung out till 6, when they aired an old Prisoner episode. It was a good one, where No. 6 runs for No. 2's office -- lots of exteriors shot here in Portmerion . . . God, the producers did a great job of utilizing the land here!
At 7:15 I had the shuttle pick me up for dinner down at the castle (didn't feel like walking the half-mile or so). At the castle, there's a fenced-off field with a bunch of black sheep, some with horns. As I was taking pictures, a number bahhed and they approached the fence, rather aggressively, I thought. Weird.
For dinner, I had crab and some sort of mayonnaise concoction on a hard piece of bread for starters. The main course was duck over red cabbage, with mashed potatoes. To drink, I had a 250ml glass of chardonnay (I figured, if you're gonna be a fancy-schmancy place, might as well go the whole nine). For desert, I had pecans in a four-inch-wide pie crust, with a scoop of ice cream on the side. I should've taken a picture of it. Also on the plate were these edible colourings in swirls, and sticking out of the ice cream was a red oblong circle measuring six inches. It was almost too pretty to eat, but I wolfed down the plate regardless.
Real quick: the sun sets in England around 10 p.m. this time of the year. WHAT!?!
I went to bed around 11, after watching a documentary on Pete Best, a footballer who I read about at Manchester United. Kind of a tragic figure. A child prodigy, apparently. He started playing professionally in his teens, but he was so good the fame went to his head. Later in life he went bankrupt and became an alcoholic -- liver problems ending his life at 59. On the more entertaining side, at the Manchester United stadium, there's a quote of him saying, "I spent most of my money on birds, booze and cars. The rest I squandered away."
In the morning, I had breakfast in the village down at the hotel because the shops and cafes didn't open till 10 or so.
Around 11 a.m., I stopped in the Prisoner shop and bought a little Portmeirion travel bag. I wanted to get cookies and fudges for everyone back home, but I would need to get four boxes, and I just don't have the room in my luggage.
The rain finally let up around 2 p.m. (I had spent most of the morning in my room reading that Cure bio), so I headed down the road in the village to a cafe. Got a tuna salad on a roll; it was more like a tuna sandwich -- really good.
After lunch, I wandered around and took as many pics as I could, including on this hiking trail where I was looking for this plant with three-foot-wide leaves. I was snapping so many pictures that my battering konked out after about two hours.
I retired to my room and put on channel 5 at five o'clock for some Portmeirion programming, but I messed up -- they aired it at four, so I showered and hung out till 6, when they aired an old Prisoner episode. It was a good one, where No. 6 runs for No. 2's office -- lots of exteriors shot here in Portmerion . . . God, the producers did a great job of utilizing the land here!
At 7:15 I had the shuttle pick me up for dinner down at the castle (didn't feel like walking the half-mile or so). At the castle, there's a fenced-off field with a bunch of black sheep, some with horns. As I was taking pictures, a number bahhed and they approached the fence, rather aggressively, I thought. Weird.
For dinner, I had crab and some sort of mayonnaise concoction on a hard piece of bread for starters. The main course was duck over red cabbage, with mashed potatoes. To drink, I had a 250ml glass of chardonnay (I figured, if you're gonna be a fancy-schmancy place, might as well go the whole nine). For desert, I had pecans in a four-inch-wide pie crust, with a scoop of ice cream on the side. I should've taken a picture of it. Also on the plate were these edible colourings in swirls, and sticking out of the ice cream was a red oblong circle measuring six inches. It was almost too pretty to eat, but I wolfed down the plate regardless.
Real quick: the sun sets in England around 10 p.m. this time of the year. WHAT!?!
I went to bed around 11, after watching a documentary on Pete Best, a footballer who I read about at Manchester United. Kind of a tragic figure. A child prodigy, apparently. He started playing professionally in his teens, but he was so good the fame went to his head. Later in life he went bankrupt and became an alcoholic -- liver problems ending his life at 59. On the more entertaining side, at the Manchester United stadium, there's a quote of him saying, "I spent most of my money on birds, booze and cars. The rest I squandered away."
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Portmeirion
Yesterday, Tuesday, I got up at 6:45 a.m. after a restless night sleep -- didn't want to miss my trains to Portmeirion. I settled my hotel bill, ate some Coca Puffs and drank a glass of OJ, then hopped in the cab for the the Liverpool Lyme Street Station. Interestingly, the cab drive was only six pounds or so (compared to 18 a couple days ago); this time, I gave the driver a tip . . . not much, only a pound a change.
I got to the train station super early -- my 1st train wasn't leaving until 9:15 -- but I didn't mind. Plenty to do. I withdrew 200 pounds from the station's Barclay ATM, bought my tickets for a couple days from now for going to Glasgow, and I read a Cure biography.
Real quick: Liverpool accents are insane. Real thick. Many times during my stay I had to ask Liverpudlians to repeat themselves. Craziness! John, Paul, George and Ringo weren't that way!!!
Anyway, my first train was on time. It was a Metro line that took about 40 minutes. At the next station I waited about 20 minutes for the next leg, which only took a half-hour. The last leg was the longest at about three and a half hours. I was worried that I might miss it because there was only a ten-minute gap between the 2nd leg and 3rd one, but my fear proved unfounded since England's rail system, unlike America's flight schedule, runs generally on time. Oh, and for those of you playing at home, the last two legs of the journey were on Wales' rail system, Arriva Trains Wales.
About 20 minutes into my last train ride, I started getting a little worried because most of the stops were in the middle of nowhere -- no shops and only sheep farms as far as the eye could see. I probably wouldn't have been biting my nails (figuratively) if back in Liverpool if both times when I was buying tickets, the agents never heard of the train stop near Portmeirion (Minffordd).
Thankfully, everything worked out in the end. The trek from the station to Portmeirion wasn't five miles but only about one mile. It was a nice walk, with the sun hiding behind grey clouds.
A little after three I walked into Castell Deudraeth. A driver took me into Portmeirion's actual village -- about three-quarters mile away. I checked in at hotel reception, then the driver drove a few hundred yards to my room in the village (called Cliff House). Very posh. Free Internet access, bottles of Welsh water, and a view looking out to the estuary. Oh, and the room locks with a skeleton key. How cool is that!
After settling in, I charged my camera's battery and wandered around the village. Wow, seeing Portmeirion on the TV show The Prisoner doesn't do it justice. It's something you have to experience. It's not a lot of land but the way the father of Portmeirion -- some architect -- laid everything out, you could walk around for hours and not get bored. I would've went down to the beach, but the high tides hit at four and it can get dangerous, so I didn't bother.
Around five I returned to my room and took those five CDs from Liverpool and put 'em on my computer. By the time I finished showering and shaving, it was dinnertime; my reservation was at 7:45, which I made when checking in.
The dinner was at the hotel in the village, and it just may have been the best meal ever (outside of my mother's Thanksgiving meal). It began with small white and wheat rolls (one each), then the waiter bought around a spinach soup in a small cup -- probably four ounces. I was gonna pass on it 'cause I only like spinach in salads, but I figured what the hell. It was awesome! Couldn't even taste the spinach. It had black specks in there. Pepper? Whatever, it went down like a good vodka. Tasted rich and nothing like I've ever experienced before.
Next up was the starter, delivered on a black slab. I had ordered thinly cut Welsh beef with six dots of butter, lettuce, tiny mushrooms and long carrots. I practically licked my plate clean but refrained myself.
The main course was lemon fillet of sole over spinach, and mixed vegetables in a bowl. I ate it all with delight, except I didn't touch the three thumb-sized mushrooms. Just couldn't get past the sight of 'em.
After I drank my glass of milk, I did something I never do at restaurants: I ordered desert. I went with chocolate cake (motif?) and ice-cream cappuccino. They were both out of this world! The cake was sorta like an ice cream with some white milky liquid in the center. And the cappuccino in a cup tasted so much like coffee I prayed I wouldn't be up until three in the morning.
A little after nine I retired to my room -- watched some stuff on Portmeirion on YouTube, then turned on the telly. Channel-surfed, watching mainly a documentary on Tom Jones (didn't know he was Welsh), and fell asleep with MTV airing an early episode of The Osbournes.
I got to the train station super early -- my 1st train wasn't leaving until 9:15 -- but I didn't mind. Plenty to do. I withdrew 200 pounds from the station's Barclay ATM, bought my tickets for a couple days from now for going to Glasgow, and I read a Cure biography.
Real quick: Liverpool accents are insane. Real thick. Many times during my stay I had to ask Liverpudlians to repeat themselves. Craziness! John, Paul, George and Ringo weren't that way!!!
Anyway, my first train was on time. It was a Metro line that took about 40 minutes. At the next station I waited about 20 minutes for the next leg, which only took a half-hour. The last leg was the longest at about three and a half hours. I was worried that I might miss it because there was only a ten-minute gap between the 2nd leg and 3rd one, but my fear proved unfounded since England's rail system, unlike America's flight schedule, runs generally on time. Oh, and for those of you playing at home, the last two legs of the journey were on Wales' rail system, Arriva Trains Wales.
About 20 minutes into my last train ride, I started getting a little worried because most of the stops were in the middle of nowhere -- no shops and only sheep farms as far as the eye could see. I probably wouldn't have been biting my nails (figuratively) if back in Liverpool if both times when I was buying tickets, the agents never heard of the train stop near Portmeirion (Minffordd).
Thankfully, everything worked out in the end. The trek from the station to Portmeirion wasn't five miles but only about one mile. It was a nice walk, with the sun hiding behind grey clouds.
A little after three I walked into Castell Deudraeth. A driver took me into Portmeirion's actual village -- about three-quarters mile away. I checked in at hotel reception, then the driver drove a few hundred yards to my room in the village (called Cliff House). Very posh. Free Internet access, bottles of Welsh water, and a view looking out to the estuary. Oh, and the room locks with a skeleton key. How cool is that!
After settling in, I charged my camera's battery and wandered around the village. Wow, seeing Portmeirion on the TV show The Prisoner doesn't do it justice. It's something you have to experience. It's not a lot of land but the way the father of Portmeirion -- some architect -- laid everything out, you could walk around for hours and not get bored. I would've went down to the beach, but the high tides hit at four and it can get dangerous, so I didn't bother.
Around five I returned to my room and took those five CDs from Liverpool and put 'em on my computer. By the time I finished showering and shaving, it was dinnertime; my reservation was at 7:45, which I made when checking in.
The dinner was at the hotel in the village, and it just may have been the best meal ever (outside of my mother's Thanksgiving meal). It began with small white and wheat rolls (one each), then the waiter bought around a spinach soup in a small cup -- probably four ounces. I was gonna pass on it 'cause I only like spinach in salads, but I figured what the hell. It was awesome! Couldn't even taste the spinach. It had black specks in there. Pepper? Whatever, it went down like a good vodka. Tasted rich and nothing like I've ever experienced before.
Next up was the starter, delivered on a black slab. I had ordered thinly cut Welsh beef with six dots of butter, lettuce, tiny mushrooms and long carrots. I practically licked my plate clean but refrained myself.
The main course was lemon fillet of sole over spinach, and mixed vegetables in a bowl. I ate it all with delight, except I didn't touch the three thumb-sized mushrooms. Just couldn't get past the sight of 'em.
After I drank my glass of milk, I did something I never do at restaurants: I ordered desert. I went with chocolate cake (motif?) and ice-cream cappuccino. They were both out of this world! The cake was sorta like an ice cream with some white milky liquid in the center. And the cappuccino in a cup tasted so much like coffee I prayed I wouldn't be up until three in the morning.
A little after nine I retired to my room -- watched some stuff on Portmeirion on YouTube, then turned on the telly. Channel-surfed, watching mainly a documentary on Tom Jones (didn't know he was Welsh), and fell asleep with MTV airing an early episode of The Osbournes.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Liverpool, last day
It's about half past eight here on Monday night. I'm sitting in the hotel lobby, shuffling my 10-plus hours worth of iTunes' Beatles songs. Just got back about 15 minutes ago from spending the day down in Liverpool's city centre.
This morning I had breakfast at the hotel: sausage, toast and OJ. I then took the bus down to Albert Dock (about a half-hour ride). I snapped some pics then checked out the Maritime Museum. Pretty fascinating, they had a lifesaver from the Lusitania!
For lunch, I had an awesome chicken salad, shaped like a mountain. Lettuce as the base with the sides being shredded bacon, the chicken, Jersey tomatoes cut in half, and egg and avocado, both of which I didn't eat.
At 2:30 I took the 2-hour Magic Mystery Bus Tour. Pretty cool, drove past each of the Fab Four's childhood homes, and saw not only Penny Lane but also Strawberry Fields. The guide was very charismatic, and apparently he's friendly with Paul McCartney -- he had a pic of them two on his phone. Oh, and one cute anecdote he had was that one time when McCartney met the Queen in a public ceremony, she confessed to owning a few Beatles records. Sir Paul's quick-witted reply: "That's OK, I own a couple Queen records."
The tour wound up a block from the Cavern Club. Glad I took pics there 'cause soon after my camera's battery died, or in its words, it was "exhausted".
I then headed back to Albert Dock (less than a half-mile away) and ducked into HMV across the street from the Dock at a shopping centre called Liverpool ONE. They had a two-CDs-for-ten-pounds sale. Gotta hand to 'em, they really suckered me in. I picked up the soundtracks to the three series of Angela's Ashes (detective show set in 1980s London), OMD's greatest hits, and Kate Nash's latest, who I saw on the telly while in Manchester (the music video "Kiss That Grrrl"; oh, and her CD wasn't part of that sale, but it was seven or eight pounds).
For dinner I ate in the same joint as lunch, in Albert Dock. Got a bacon cheese burger and chips. This being Britain, the bacon was actually ham. Good deal: five pounds for the meal and a glass of milk.
Around 7:45, I hopped on the bus back to the hotel. Glad I spent the day down at the Dock. It may have been unbelievably windy, but at least I wasn't sneezing like yesterday and this morning because the hotel is right next to a park. Curse you tree pollen!
Tomorrow is the five-hour trains ride to Portmeirion in northern Wales. Gotta take three trains. The first leaves Liverpool at 9:13 am. Gonna try to go to bed at 10 tonight so I don't oversleep, in case the early morning wakeup I requested at reception doesn't happen. Upward and outward!
This morning I had breakfast at the hotel: sausage, toast and OJ. I then took the bus down to Albert Dock (about a half-hour ride). I snapped some pics then checked out the Maritime Museum. Pretty fascinating, they had a lifesaver from the Lusitania!
For lunch, I had an awesome chicken salad, shaped like a mountain. Lettuce as the base with the sides being shredded bacon, the chicken, Jersey tomatoes cut in half, and egg and avocado, both of which I didn't eat.
At 2:30 I took the 2-hour Magic Mystery Bus Tour. Pretty cool, drove past each of the Fab Four's childhood homes, and saw not only Penny Lane but also Strawberry Fields. The guide was very charismatic, and apparently he's friendly with Paul McCartney -- he had a pic of them two on his phone. Oh, and one cute anecdote he had was that one time when McCartney met the Queen in a public ceremony, she confessed to owning a few Beatles records. Sir Paul's quick-witted reply: "That's OK, I own a couple Queen records."
The tour wound up a block from the Cavern Club. Glad I took pics there 'cause soon after my camera's battery died, or in its words, it was "exhausted".
I then headed back to Albert Dock (less than a half-mile away) and ducked into HMV across the street from the Dock at a shopping centre called Liverpool ONE. They had a two-CDs-for-ten-pounds sale. Gotta hand to 'em, they really suckered me in. I picked up the soundtracks to the three series of Angela's Ashes (detective show set in 1980s London), OMD's greatest hits, and Kate Nash's latest, who I saw on the telly while in Manchester (the music video "Kiss That Grrrl"; oh, and her CD wasn't part of that sale, but it was seven or eight pounds).
For dinner I ate in the same joint as lunch, in Albert Dock. Got a bacon cheese burger and chips. This being Britain, the bacon was actually ham. Good deal: five pounds for the meal and a glass of milk.
Around 7:45, I hopped on the bus back to the hotel. Glad I spent the day down at the Dock. It may have been unbelievably windy, but at least I wasn't sneezing like yesterday and this morning because the hotel is right next to a park. Curse you tree pollen!
Tomorrow is the five-hour trains ride to Portmeirion in northern Wales. Gotta take three trains. The first leaves Liverpool at 9:13 am. Gonna try to go to bed at 10 tonight so I don't oversleep, in case the early morning wakeup I requested at reception doesn't happen. Upward and outward!
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Liverpool, day 1
I know I've been doing this vacay diary the morning after, but I thought I'd do it tonight. The 2-star hotel I'm staying at is technically in Liverpool but about 15 minutes from the city centre, so nothing much going on around here. And it being Sunday, the few local shops around are closed up. Day of rest, and all that.
This morning, I checked out of the hotel in Manchester a little before 10 a.m., then walked a few blocks to the Unitarian Church (I'm a member of it in Philly). On my way there I got a little lost and stumbled across a film shoot: a taxi on a sidestreet corner with big lights and a bunch of people huddled around it. I was across the street and saw some guy, who was about 25 years old, with an earpiece in his right ear. I asked him if they were shooting a commercial, and he said it was for a "drama" called The Accused. I asked him if it was better than Life on Mars (an awesome detective show that ran for two series a few years ago), and he was quick on his feet -- said it was a million times better. After that little exchange I walked on but realized at the end of the block, at the light, that I was heading in the wrong direction, so I had to backtrack (grrrr!). Just as I reached the gaffer bloke, he put his index finger to his earpiece then asked me to wait a moment or two. An extra (some guy in a 3-piece suit with a briefcase) had to walk by on the same sidewalk as us; I guess the camera was facing the front windshield, since I saw the rear of the cab. After they shot the scene, the gaffer thanked. I told I wasn't doing it on purpose -- I missed my turn. He was cool about it. More I think about it, he was cool throughout. Wasn't overly aggressive at all . . . forceful but polite. Sucks they had to work on a Sunday, though.
I arrived a little early for the Unitarian service. Fortunately, I member of my church, Anne, has a friend there and she told them about me. Some lady -- can't believe I forgot her name -- gave me a tour. Pretty fascinating: they've owned the corner property since the 1600s, I believe, but their original building was destroyed in WWII during the Blitz. Since then, they've rebuilt it. Their sanctuary and rooms are on the 1st floor; they rent out the above floors of the semi-skyscraper to corporations.
The service was nice. I think the UK Unitarians are more aligned to Christianity than back home, but you couldn't tell by this service. One thing I liked was that the guy who led the service at one point read a kids' book called Little Croc; gonna have to pick that up while I'm here in England . . . I think my 4-year-old nephew will like it since the Little Croc in question likes to be bad, though at the end of book the croc leans to play nice (well, mostly).
After the service I had tea and scones with about 10 of the congregation (around 20 people attended the service), including Anne's friend. The scone was good: I was told by my tour guide to put butter and marmalade on it. Good advice -- it was delicious. The tea was dead-on, too. Probably the generous teaspoon of sugar had something to with that. And I usually only have hot tea when sick!
The train to Liverpool was pretty packed, but no big deal 'cause it's only a 50-minute ride. (Really weird: back at the Manchester train station, I had to pay 30 pence to use the toilet.) At one point we passed a couple sheep farms. Pretty cool. . . .
I got into Liverpool around 3 pm. The taxi to the hotel was a lot less than in Liverpool (18 pounds vs. 60). When I got here, I made my way down to the local laundry, which was a 10-minute walk. That whole episode was a story in itself. The laundry only took pound coins, so I had to buy something at the local Tessco (a supermarket), then I forgot the detergent, so I had to go back to the Tessco. On the plus side, as I was folding the last of my clothes, I spoke with a nice woman who told the do's and don't do's while in Liverpool -- more on that tomorrow.
For dinner I tried finding a place to get a burger, but my hotel doesn't serve food on weekends, and the pub around the corner had its kitchen close just before I arrived. So I walked a couple blocks and ran into a pizza joint. Their menu had garlic bread. I ordered it and was surprised that it was a pizza -- tasted just like garlic bread. By that point, it was 8 p.m., so I devoured it.
For the past couple hours I've been in the hotel's reception area. I had two screwdivers and am now working on my 3rd or 4th Beck's (though, in my defense, each bottle is 275 ml, which is a little more than 9 ounces). Alcohol = a l-o-n-g, loquacious blog post. When in Liverpool. . . .
This morning, I checked out of the hotel in Manchester a little before 10 a.m., then walked a few blocks to the Unitarian Church (I'm a member of it in Philly). On my way there I got a little lost and stumbled across a film shoot: a taxi on a sidestreet corner with big lights and a bunch of people huddled around it. I was across the street and saw some guy, who was about 25 years old, with an earpiece in his right ear. I asked him if they were shooting a commercial, and he said it was for a "drama" called The Accused. I asked him if it was better than Life on Mars (an awesome detective show that ran for two series a few years ago), and he was quick on his feet -- said it was a million times better. After that little exchange I walked on but realized at the end of the block, at the light, that I was heading in the wrong direction, so I had to backtrack (grrrr!). Just as I reached the gaffer bloke, he put his index finger to his earpiece then asked me to wait a moment or two. An extra (some guy in a 3-piece suit with a briefcase) had to walk by on the same sidewalk as us; I guess the camera was facing the front windshield, since I saw the rear of the cab. After they shot the scene, the gaffer thanked. I told I wasn't doing it on purpose -- I missed my turn. He was cool about it. More I think about it, he was cool throughout. Wasn't overly aggressive at all . . . forceful but polite. Sucks they had to work on a Sunday, though.
I arrived a little early for the Unitarian service. Fortunately, I member of my church, Anne, has a friend there and she told them about me. Some lady -- can't believe I forgot her name -- gave me a tour. Pretty fascinating: they've owned the corner property since the 1600s, I believe, but their original building was destroyed in WWII during the Blitz. Since then, they've rebuilt it. Their sanctuary and rooms are on the 1st floor; they rent out the above floors of the semi-skyscraper to corporations.
The service was nice. I think the UK Unitarians are more aligned to Christianity than back home, but you couldn't tell by this service. One thing I liked was that the guy who led the service at one point read a kids' book called Little Croc; gonna have to pick that up while I'm here in England . . . I think my 4-year-old nephew will like it since the Little Croc in question likes to be bad, though at the end of book the croc leans to play nice (well, mostly).
After the service I had tea and scones with about 10 of the congregation (around 20 people attended the service), including Anne's friend. The scone was good: I was told by my tour guide to put butter and marmalade on it. Good advice -- it was delicious. The tea was dead-on, too. Probably the generous teaspoon of sugar had something to with that. And I usually only have hot tea when sick!
The train to Liverpool was pretty packed, but no big deal 'cause it's only a 50-minute ride. (Really weird: back at the Manchester train station, I had to pay 30 pence to use the toilet.) At one point we passed a couple sheep farms. Pretty cool. . . .
I got into Liverpool around 3 pm. The taxi to the hotel was a lot less than in Liverpool (18 pounds vs. 60). When I got here, I made my way down to the local laundry, which was a 10-minute walk. That whole episode was a story in itself. The laundry only took pound coins, so I had to buy something at the local Tessco (a supermarket), then I forgot the detergent, so I had to go back to the Tessco. On the plus side, as I was folding the last of my clothes, I spoke with a nice woman who told the do's and don't do's while in Liverpool -- more on that tomorrow.
For dinner I tried finding a place to get a burger, but my hotel doesn't serve food on weekends, and the pub around the corner had its kitchen close just before I arrived. So I walked a couple blocks and ran into a pizza joint. Their menu had garlic bread. I ordered it and was surprised that it was a pizza -- tasted just like garlic bread. By that point, it was 8 p.m., so I devoured it.
For the past couple hours I've been in the hotel's reception area. I had two screwdivers and am now working on my 3rd or 4th Beck's (though, in my defense, each bottle is 275 ml, which is a little more than 9 ounces). Alcohol = a l-o-n-g, loquacious blog post. When in Liverpool. . . .
Manchester, day 2
Yesterday, Saturday, I had continental breakfast here in the hotel -- ate as much as could since it was 11 pounds. Then I lounged around in my room until about 10 or so, when I went to Manchester Art Gallery. How could I not. It's right across the street! (Can see it from my window.)
I wasn't expecting much, but I was pleasantly surprised. It doesn't look like much from the outside but they utilize every inch. Kinda cool how they have pop art in there, like the cover to a Smiths LP. But what really got me was the Victorian room up on the second floor. Never knew artists from that time used such bright, vivid colours. A lot of those paintings reminded me of Maxfield Parrish.
For lunch I had a salad in the Art Gallery's restaurant and got a green apple for an afternoon snack.
Around 2 p.m., I took the tram (a.k.a. MetroLink) for a 20-minute ride out to Old Trafford -- a suburb, I think -- to see Manchester United, probably England's most popular football team. It took the hour tour. Pretty impressive. The stadium fits over 75,000 and tickets are sold out immediately; they can't expand any more at this location because homes and train tracks are behind the stadium. Oh, what else was cool was that the field is actual grass. Damn, now I really wanna see a football game.
I got to really hand it to Manchester United. They have a well-oiled operation. Before the tour you can peruse their museum's three floors (plenty to see since the team is over 100 years old). You start at the top and when you get down to the 1st floor you just have to wait for your tour guide; not a long wait since tours start every 20 minutes.
The tour ends in their shop. It's about two-thirds the size of your typical Modell's in the States and has every piece of merchandise you could think of. I picked up a scarf, a birthday card for my nephew, and a porous black jersey (their away colour, I think) -- the other colour was yellow, but I already have a yellow Australia jersey. What was cool about the jerseys was that they had several designs; some had Manchester United on the back, others, like mine, didn't.
Back near my hotel, I hit a seafood restaurant called Live Bait. Very posh. The food was top tier, but it pissed me off that I asked for mineral water and they brought me bottled mineral water. I should've said something before the girl opened the bottle but I was reading and she kinda blindsided me. Still, I should've said something. Brings me down a bit that you always need to have your defenses up. So sad that people are always looking to take advantage. I don't think I'm gonna go to anymore posh places; I'll stick with taverns and good ol'-fashioned English food. Maybe a pub burger tomorrow in Liverpool for dinner. . . .
To cheer up last night, I went back to my hotel (got there around 9) and watched the last two episodes of Doctor Who's current series on the BBC website. Kinda cool, since I can't do that in the States, what with the license fees they pay over here.
I wasn't expecting much, but I was pleasantly surprised. It doesn't look like much from the outside but they utilize every inch. Kinda cool how they have pop art in there, like the cover to a Smiths LP. But what really got me was the Victorian room up on the second floor. Never knew artists from that time used such bright, vivid colours. A lot of those paintings reminded me of Maxfield Parrish.
For lunch I had a salad in the Art Gallery's restaurant and got a green apple for an afternoon snack.
Around 2 p.m., I took the tram (a.k.a. MetroLink) for a 20-minute ride out to Old Trafford -- a suburb, I think -- to see Manchester United, probably England's most popular football team. It took the hour tour. Pretty impressive. The stadium fits over 75,000 and tickets are sold out immediately; they can't expand any more at this location because homes and train tracks are behind the stadium. Oh, what else was cool was that the field is actual grass. Damn, now I really wanna see a football game.
I got to really hand it to Manchester United. They have a well-oiled operation. Before the tour you can peruse their museum's three floors (plenty to see since the team is over 100 years old). You start at the top and when you get down to the 1st floor you just have to wait for your tour guide; not a long wait since tours start every 20 minutes.
The tour ends in their shop. It's about two-thirds the size of your typical Modell's in the States and has every piece of merchandise you could think of. I picked up a scarf, a birthday card for my nephew, and a porous black jersey (their away colour, I think) -- the other colour was yellow, but I already have a yellow Australia jersey. What was cool about the jerseys was that they had several designs; some had Manchester United on the back, others, like mine, didn't.
Back near my hotel, I hit a seafood restaurant called Live Bait. Very posh. The food was top tier, but it pissed me off that I asked for mineral water and they brought me bottled mineral water. I should've said something before the girl opened the bottle but I was reading and she kinda blindsided me. Still, I should've said something. Brings me down a bit that you always need to have your defenses up. So sad that people are always looking to take advantage. I don't think I'm gonna go to anymore posh places; I'll stick with taverns and good ol'-fashioned English food. Maybe a pub burger tomorrow in Liverpool for dinner. . . .
To cheer up last night, I went back to my hotel (got there around 9) and watched the last two episodes of Doctor Who's current series on the BBC website. Kinda cool, since I can't do that in the States, what with the license fees they pay over here.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Manchester, day 1
Yesterday I took the train from Cardiff to Manchester. Glad to get out of Cardiff -- the National Rail website said the train was 32 pounds, but when I got there the surly lady at the counter said it was 56 pounds; apparently, you have to buy an advance ticket on the website for the cheaper price. Grrr. . . .
I arrived in Manchester a little after 2 pm. To save money I decided to walk to the hotel (Google Maps said it was a 11-minute walk), but it turned into an hour 'cause I kept getting lost. Streets would run a couple blocks then either run into a historical building or be renamed.
The hotel is very nice. Much better than Cardiff, where at one point the card to my room stopped working, the free WiFi in the lobby one night kept giving me all these unusual security protocols (too boring to go into), the DVD player in the room wouldn't open (not a problem, since I have my laptop with me),and when I arrived they asked me which paper I'd like delivered to my room -- they wound up charging me for it.
In the afternoon, I wandered around. Stumbled across a Theatre Library where a production of Oscar Wilde's Importance of Being Earnest is being performed until the third, but all tickets are sold out. Bummer.
I had dinner about five blocks from the hotel. Oh, the hotel is in downtown Manchester where almost everything is within walking distance. I ate at some Italian joint located on some small sidestreet that could double as an alley. I was jonesing for pizza. Fought the urge to get pepperoni pizza and instead ordered a folded over pizza with pepperoni, mushrooms and (maybe) ham and olive oil.
Afterwards I trekked it to the Comedy Store. Apparently, there are only two in the UK; the other one in London. It was stand-up night. They call MCs over here compres, I believe. He kept asking if anyone was from another country. I kept my hand down after seeing him roast a couple Aussies, a drama student, a copper, and a guy in the front row wearing a pink shirt.
There were four comedians, with a half-hour intermission from 9:30 to 10 pm (the show started as 8:30 and ended at 11). Some funny stuff. Most of the humour British-based, obviously, though the headliner was a Canadian expatriate who was very Bohemian with his dozen jokes about mushrooms. And he did joke that Canadians are like Swedes by being too careful. Made me wonder if Canucks' carefulness is an asset, since they're the only country world not hit really hard by recession because they have strict financial regulation.
Another thing I noticed about all five comics was they're differentiating between England's North and South. It didn't come as a total surprise to me because there was dialogue in the great UK show Life on Mars about it. But hearing those stand-ups touch on it really drove the point home. Kinda weird, since England's only an island. Guess there's competition everywhere.
Wow, I don't think most people go to a comedy show to get all heavy, but I can't remember any of their jokes!
I arrived in Manchester a little after 2 pm. To save money I decided to walk to the hotel (Google Maps said it was a 11-minute walk), but it turned into an hour 'cause I kept getting lost. Streets would run a couple blocks then either run into a historical building or be renamed.
The hotel is very nice. Much better than Cardiff, where at one point the card to my room stopped working, the free WiFi in the lobby one night kept giving me all these unusual security protocols (too boring to go into), the DVD player in the room wouldn't open (not a problem, since I have my laptop with me),and when I arrived they asked me which paper I'd like delivered to my room -- they wound up charging me for it.
In the afternoon, I wandered around. Stumbled across a Theatre Library where a production of Oscar Wilde's Importance of Being Earnest is being performed until the third, but all tickets are sold out. Bummer.
I had dinner about five blocks from the hotel. Oh, the hotel is in downtown Manchester where almost everything is within walking distance. I ate at some Italian joint located on some small sidestreet that could double as an alley. I was jonesing for pizza. Fought the urge to get pepperoni pizza and instead ordered a folded over pizza with pepperoni, mushrooms and (maybe) ham and olive oil.
Afterwards I trekked it to the Comedy Store. Apparently, there are only two in the UK; the other one in London. It was stand-up night. They call MCs over here compres, I believe. He kept asking if anyone was from another country. I kept my hand down after seeing him roast a couple Aussies, a drama student, a copper, and a guy in the front row wearing a pink shirt.
There were four comedians, with a half-hour intermission from 9:30 to 10 pm (the show started as 8:30 and ended at 11). Some funny stuff. Most of the humour British-based, obviously, though the headliner was a Canadian expatriate who was very Bohemian with his dozen jokes about mushrooms. And he did joke that Canadians are like Swedes by being too careful. Made me wonder if Canucks' carefulness is an asset, since they're the only country world not hit really hard by recession because they have strict financial regulation.
Another thing I noticed about all five comics was they're differentiating between England's North and South. It didn't come as a total surprise to me because there was dialogue in the great UK show Life on Mars about it. But hearing those stand-ups touch on it really drove the point home. Kinda weird, since England's only an island. Guess there's competition everywhere.
Wow, I don't think most people go to a comedy show to get all heavy, but I can't remember any of their jokes!
Friday, July 2, 2010
from Cardiff to Manchester
Today's a travel day. It's about a three-hour train ride to Manchester. I have until noon to check out of the Cardiff hotel -- not in a rush 'cause I'm more interested in Manchester's nightlife than anything else. (Right now it's about 9:30 a.m.)
All right, yesterday I spent most of the day down at Cardiff Bay. I didn't get down there until about 11 am -- I was in no rush . . . it's a vacation for bloody sake! Anyway, the Millennium Centre was a sight to behold with its ginormous marquee in Welsh. The Roald Dahl Pass was a bit of a disappointment: it's just a circle, plus labourers had it blocked off so they could set up for (this weekend's?) Cardiff Festival.
For lunch I ducked into a pub that was promoting Curry Thursday. Curry, yellow rise, Indian bread and a drink for 4.99. I made the mistake of asking for lemonade; she gave me a Sprite -- you'd think I would have learned my lesson from the previous day's lunch. Overall, it was good meal.
For the rest of the afternoon, I lounged around the Bay. Glad I did. There were little things I missed the first time around: like a sculpture honoring Cardiff's seamen who died during wartime, and the Visitor's Centre, which was housed in "tube". Once again, pics later.
My travel book said the St. David's Hotel had a good menu. So I hung out in their lobby from about 4:45 to 6 p.m., but when I went in there the bartender said dinner didn't start till 7. I didn't feel like waiting so I went back to the Bay and was going to hit a French restaurant but decided on a Turkish joint. Good choice, if I do say myself. I ordered lamb (salty but good), sauteed potatoes, house salad and milk. And not too bad of a price: 14.90.
During dinner, it started to rain. I was going to take the train but it looked like I had to catch a connection, so -- like in the morning -- I walked to the hotel; it's only about a mile. Luckily, I had Union Jack umbrella that I bought my last day in London.
Back in the hotel, I dried off then headed across the street where, like the night before, hopped into some convenience store for an ice-cream cone (got a different one this time). I ended Thursday by watching The Queen starring Helen Mirren, a Netflix DVD I brought with me from home. Seemed fitting.
I fell asleep to a Welsh TV station. Believe it or not, they have channel where the programming is all done in Welsh -- no English. Craziness!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Cardiff, day 2
Couldn't get online yesterday because of problems with the hotel here in Cardiff, Wales. Anyway, let's backtrack a little.
In London, the dinner at the Italian joint was awesome. Football was on, so the packed place were feisty. I had vegetable lasagna, mashed potatoes, garlic bread and Lipton iced tea out of a bottle. Not too bad -- came out to something like 11 pounds.
Yesterday (Wednesday) I took the train from London to Cardiff. Glad the station was only three blocks from my hotel. And I found out why trash cans are few and far in-between in London: to cut down on terrorists dropping bombs in 'em. Smart.
The 2-hour train ride to Cardiff was uneventful. When I got here around noon, I decided to walk to the hotel since it's only three-tenths of a mile, but I couldn't find it at first. Kept walking up and down five-block St. Mary St., looking for it. Finally found it with the help of locals. I missed it because it's in the middle of the block, squeezed between two businesses. One of those buildings that's not impressive in the front, but it's bigger on the inside -- hey, just like Dr. Who's TARDIS!
My hotel's in what's called Cardiff Centre, so there are many restaurants and shops. I was in the mood for pizza but couldn't find a place that served slices, so I settled on joint where I got 2 meatballs and garlic breads; I asked for lemonade but the waitress gave me a Slice -- must be a UK thing 'cause that almost happened at the Italian cafe in London.
Then it was off to the Cardiff castle. Really impressive! I think I liked it more than the Tower of London because it wasn't so overwhelming. I'll post pics when I get back home, though unfortunately some turned out rubbish 'cause you couldn't use flash photography inside the castle. One that did turn out well was a window called Philadelphia. Apparently the family that lived there were uber religious and Philly is connected with the Bible . . . from John the Baptist, maybe?
For dinner, I ate at an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet, although it wasn't that good -- food left under the burners for too long. My thinking for going there was that the following day I'd be down at Cardiff Bay, where there are a bunch of posh restaurants, so that'll be an expensive meal. On the plus side, I had Chinese tea at the buffet and it was -- um, um -- tasty.
After dinner I went walking, looking for some club, but I left the second of my 2 maps back at the hotel, so I got a little lost. I didn't venture too far into that neighborhood. A little on the poverty side. Lots of businesses and homes "to let".
I got back to the hotel around nine and put on the telly. The BBC had one funny programme on called Mock of the Week, which was quite funny. Set up as a game show, it's basically a vehicle for comedians to make fun of the news. I think the producers are the same Brit cats who did Whose Line Is It Anyway?, which was quite evident in the last bit called "Things We'd Like to See", where the six comedians approached the mike for each topic, the first one being "Lines we'd like to see in the Bible" -- you won't find that on American television!
Right now it's a little before 10 a.m. on Thursday. It hasn't rained since I got there (there was a little shower in London my last full day there in the morning), so hopefully the sun reigns.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
London, last day
It's Tuesday, about 6 pm. I did three of the four things I wanted to do today. Couldn't make it to the London Zoo in time before it closed.
This morning I went to the Tower of London first. Kind of misnomer, since it has about 20 towers. The tour was a bit lame. I'm guessing that the guide didn't take us in towers because our group had at least 100 people. I did walk through a couple towers -- fascinating stuff. And I went into the Crown Jewels. Kinda crazy how you can't take pictures in there. Oh, man, I'm not a fan of diamonds and jewels, but those spectres and crowns are amazing! And before I left I caught sight of on the lawn in front of the Tower of London a touristy attraction where you could shoot the two-story catapult. It took four tourists to pull the ropes so that they could shoot a water balloon.
Next it was off to Westminster Abbey. Sadly, you're not allowed to take pictures in there, just like in the Crown Jewels building. Pretty amazing in there. It costs 15 pounds to get in, and they give you audio pieces where the actor Jeremy Irons is your guide. Besides the tombs of kings and queens, they have a Poet's Corner and a sections saluting the sciences; Isaac Newton is buried there and I think Charles Darwin, or maybe he's just memorialized there.
Big Ben is a block away, so I took pictures of it and the nearby Parliament building. Pretty cool to see it up close.
I came back to my hotel around 4 pm. I'm just resting now. Gonna check out the train station I have to go to for the ride to Cardiff, Wales. Only a 2-hour trek so no big deal. Then I'm gonna hit a local Italian restaurant. Feel like some pasta.
This morning I went to the Tower of London first. Kind of misnomer, since it has about 20 towers. The tour was a bit lame. I'm guessing that the guide didn't take us in towers because our group had at least 100 people. I did walk through a couple towers -- fascinating stuff. And I went into the Crown Jewels. Kinda crazy how you can't take pictures in there. Oh, man, I'm not a fan of diamonds and jewels, but those spectres and crowns are amazing! And before I left I caught sight of on the lawn in front of the Tower of London a touristy attraction where you could shoot the two-story catapult. It took four tourists to pull the ropes so that they could shoot a water balloon.
Next it was off to Westminster Abbey. Sadly, you're not allowed to take pictures in there, just like in the Crown Jewels building. Pretty amazing in there. It costs 15 pounds to get in, and they give you audio pieces where the actor Jeremy Irons is your guide. Besides the tombs of kings and queens, they have a Poet's Corner and a sections saluting the sciences; Isaac Newton is buried there and I think Charles Darwin, or maybe he's just memorialized there.
Big Ben is a block away, so I took pictures of it and the nearby Parliament building. Pretty cool to see it up close.
I came back to my hotel around 4 pm. I'm just resting now. Gonna check out the train station I have to go to for the ride to Cardiff, Wales. Only a 2-hour trek so no big deal. Then I'm gonna hit a local Italian restaurant. Feel like some pasta.
London, day 3
On Monday, after eating an English breakfast here at the hotel (sans eggs), I had planned to go to the Royal Albert Hall first, but judging by their website they don't have tours, so I blew it off and went to the Old Bailey a.k.a. the Criminal Centre, down near St. Paul's Cathedral. I didn't go inside because the line was too long and you couldn't take a camera inside, however I did take a picture of solicitors outside, though it's not the best photo since I was trying not to bring attention myself. I'm gonna have to go back and watch episodes of Rumpole and the Old Bailey because the real thing looked nothing that iconic TV show.
Growing more confident with taking the tube, I headed to the BBC Television Centre in the East End. I had to buy my ticket the night before online; the only slot left was 1:45 pm. Despite taking my time to get there, I had plenty of time to kill. The tour was OK. You weren't allowed to take pictures for the most part, but they did let us see two studios from visitor booths up high. Both were for kids TV shows; they were shooting one, a game show. Sidenote: interesting that they rent their studios to commercial stations, like ITV. Oh, and you should've saw how many lights each studio had -- I think they were all remote-controlled. Another fascinating tidbit (at least to me), a lot of their news show have unmanned cameras because the anchors don't move around; also, the anchors write their own stories, which is why they shuffle around papers. The tour ended in the BBC shop. They didn't have two DVDs I was looking for: Quatermass and Casanova, both remakes from the noughties.
In the mid-afternoon, on the fly, I went to Harrod's, a very posh department store. I went to the HMV on the fourth or fifth floor and bought the first series of No Angels, a nurse dramedy I heard about because of one actress connected to the Doctor Who universe. I then had dinner down in their food hall. It cost about 45 pounds but was really good: 6 crab/shrimp dumplings, chips (steak fries), a house salad, and the best iced tea ever (very sweet).
Then it was off to the West End. I had bought a ticket for the Agatha Christie play, Mousetrap, yesterday, but they didn't have a Sunday-night performance just a matinee, so I had to wait a day. The play was really good. Glad they had an intermission 'cause the day of running around caught up with me in the first half -- had trouble staying awake, but a bottle of water and a cup of ginger ale during intermission woke me up.
Tomorrow's my last day in London. Gonna try and squeeze four things in.
Growing more confident with taking the tube, I headed to the BBC Television Centre in the East End. I had to buy my ticket the night before online; the only slot left was 1:45 pm. Despite taking my time to get there, I had plenty of time to kill. The tour was OK. You weren't allowed to take pictures for the most part, but they did let us see two studios from visitor booths up high. Both were for kids TV shows; they were shooting one, a game show. Sidenote: interesting that they rent their studios to commercial stations, like ITV. Oh, and you should've saw how many lights each studio had -- I think they were all remote-controlled. Another fascinating tidbit (at least to me), a lot of their news show have unmanned cameras because the anchors don't move around; also, the anchors write their own stories, which is why they shuffle around papers. The tour ended in the BBC shop. They didn't have two DVDs I was looking for: Quatermass and Casanova, both remakes from the noughties.
In the mid-afternoon, on the fly, I went to Harrod's, a very posh department store. I went to the HMV on the fourth or fifth floor and bought the first series of No Angels, a nurse dramedy I heard about because of one actress connected to the Doctor Who universe. I then had dinner down in their food hall. It cost about 45 pounds but was really good: 6 crab/shrimp dumplings, chips (steak fries), a house salad, and the best iced tea ever (very sweet).
Then it was off to the West End. I had bought a ticket for the Agatha Christie play, Mousetrap, yesterday, but they didn't have a Sunday-night performance just a matinee, so I had to wait a day. The play was really good. Glad they had an intermission 'cause the day of running around caught up with me in the first half -- had trouble staying awake, but a bottle of water and a cup of ginger ale during intermission woke me up.
Tomorrow's my last day in London. Gonna try and squeeze four things in.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
London, day 2
Well, I'm much more coherent today than yesterday -- don't even wanna read yesterday's post. Though, I did wake up around midnight after two hours sleep. Here, I was rubbing my eyes raw. I had been sneezing after visiting Hyde Park, and it lingered; something there triggered my hay fever. But it's all good now.
I got up about 7:40 this morning (Sunday) and had a complimentary English breakfast in the hotel, though I skipped the eggs. Then I was off to the Shakespeare Globe.
I decided to walk, but when I got to where I thought it was, the West Ende, I realized I read the map wrong. So I went to the nearest Underground station and took the tube to where the Globe is actually at.
They do a great job at the Globe. Part of the property is an exhibit, which I cruised around in (nothing original . . . mostly reproductions) until my tour started at "half past eleven". The tour goes into the actual Globe Theatre, where they put on performances in the afternoon and evening; they were setting up for the former while my group of 50(!) visitors got schooled by our Shakespeare guide. I knew the Globe was a recreation. What I didn't know that the original held three times as many people (3,000) and that it was destroyed twice. First time a pyrotechnic during a production landed on the thatch roof and burned down the place; the second time the Puritans took it down along with other theatres in London, 'cause they saw plays as immoral.
Next it was off to the British Museum. Before going in I hit a deli a block away. Got a veggie sandwich -- this time I ate the eggs.
The British Museum is awesome! Puts Philly's Art Museum to shame. Took tons of pictures, including of the Rosetta Stone. I'll post several of those Museum pics when I get back to home.
Around four o'clock I came back to the hotel and mapped out tomorrow's itinerary. I'm only here two more full days. Tons to do. So on impulse I hopped on the tube to Buckingham Palace. Oh, I bought a day pass for five pounds, sixty pence. WHAT A BARGAIN!
Buckingham Palace is in/near Grace Park, I believe it's called. Tours are only in August and September, so with about a hundred other onlookers, I took numerous pictures. Even got a couple shots of the two beefeaters. Interestingly, they're behind the black-iron fence, about 30 feet back; I'll let you convert that to metres.
Leaving Buckingham Palace, my allergies acted up again, but not as bad as yesterday. I took the tube back the Paddington train station, which is a few blocks from my hotel. I was going to eat in a fish and chips place, but they had no restroom (I'm sorry, toilet). So I went to a restaurant across the street from the train station, a steak place. Good call. I don't eat steak at home. Got an 8-ounce steak, mixed vegetables, mashed potatoes and a pint of milk. Good stuff and not too bad a price at 24 and change. I put 35 on my credit card 'cause the waiter, with the French or Italian accent, was very good.
It's about 10:20 on Sunday night. Gonna shower then watch the Doctor Who episode I just downloaded. Seems fitting to watch it in the UK.
I got up about 7:40 this morning (Sunday) and had a complimentary English breakfast in the hotel, though I skipped the eggs. Then I was off to the Shakespeare Globe.
I decided to walk, but when I got to where I thought it was, the West Ende, I realized I read the map wrong. So I went to the nearest Underground station and took the tube to where the Globe is actually at.
They do a great job at the Globe. Part of the property is an exhibit, which I cruised around in (nothing original . . . mostly reproductions) until my tour started at "half past eleven". The tour goes into the actual Globe Theatre, where they put on performances in the afternoon and evening; they were setting up for the former while my group of 50(!) visitors got schooled by our Shakespeare guide. I knew the Globe was a recreation. What I didn't know that the original held three times as many people (3,000) and that it was destroyed twice. First time a pyrotechnic during a production landed on the thatch roof and burned down the place; the second time the Puritans took it down along with other theatres in London, 'cause they saw plays as immoral.
Next it was off to the British Museum. Before going in I hit a deli a block away. Got a veggie sandwich -- this time I ate the eggs.
The British Museum is awesome! Puts Philly's Art Museum to shame. Took tons of pictures, including of the Rosetta Stone. I'll post several of those Museum pics when I get back to home.
Around four o'clock I came back to the hotel and mapped out tomorrow's itinerary. I'm only here two more full days. Tons to do. So on impulse I hopped on the tube to Buckingham Palace. Oh, I bought a day pass for five pounds, sixty pence. WHAT A BARGAIN!
Buckingham Palace is in/near Grace Park, I believe it's called. Tours are only in August and September, so with about a hundred other onlookers, I took numerous pictures. Even got a couple shots of the two beefeaters. Interestingly, they're behind the black-iron fence, about 30 feet back; I'll let you convert that to metres.
Leaving Buckingham Palace, my allergies acted up again, but not as bad as yesterday. I took the tube back the Paddington train station, which is a few blocks from my hotel. I was going to eat in a fish and chips place, but they had no restroom (I'm sorry, toilet). So I went to a restaurant across the street from the train station, a steak place. Good call. I don't eat steak at home. Got an 8-ounce steak, mixed vegetables, mashed potatoes and a pint of milk. Good stuff and not too bad a price at 24 and change. I put 35 on my credit card 'cause the waiter, with the French or Italian accent, was very good.
It's about 10:20 on Sunday night. Gonna shower then watch the Doctor Who episode I just downloaded. Seems fitting to watch it in the UK.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
UK vacay, with Murphy's Law in full effect
My trip got off to a bad start. It was cool that my sister drove me down to the airport with her husband and three kids (good times), but around 3:30 p.m. an intense storm, going on for at least a half-hour. It was so bad, Air Traffic Control grounded flights, which pushed planes two-plus hours behind. My plane to JFK in New York was supposed to take flight at 5:50; it didn't leave till 8:30. While the plane was still on the runway in Philly, I called the airline (Delta) and they told that my flight out of New York, to London, was scheduled to leave at its scheduled time of 8:45 -- since I was going to miss my flight, they could have me on a 4:30 a.m. plane to Atlanta, then to London. I said I'd call them back.
I didn't arrive in JFK until about 9:15. I was standing in the longest line (about 75 people in front of me). The board above the Delta customer-service desk had cities like Dallas and Seattle and future flight times that night. I assumed the London flight was long gone. Boy, was I wrong, when 25 minutes later I turned around and saw Delta international computer screen. At 9:53 I saw that my London flight had been pushed back until 10. I ran from gate 24 to 12 as fast as I could, getting down there at 9:59, but the plane had taken off. Delta said they could put me on British Airways, but not until 9:35 the next night, so I booked a room at an EconoLodge in Queens -- not the safest of neighborhoods.
I checked out the next morning. Running low on cash (the taxi the night before cost me $20 [$14.90 plus a tip]), so I started walking the six miles to the airport. Luckily a few blocks into my trip I found out about a bus that went to the airport. Thanks to the kindness of strangers I made it the airport safe and sound (one flight attendant swiped her MetroPass for me and I paid her $2.25, since the bus doesn't take cash; and a TSA employee told me to sit tight when I almost got off at the wrong stop).
I lounged around the airport for about nine hours. Talked to my mom and my sister Diane a lot, took a nap in the afternoon in the waiting room of a rarely-used gate, and ate some overpriced food. Glad I went to the airport early because I went over to Delta and they verified that my one piece of luggage was in Heathrow already.
On the plane ride I mostly slept (kinda of a waste that I charged up my Mac and iPod). It only took six hours to get to London. And British Airways is the shiz-net! Very comfortable.
I got into London 9:30 a.m. local time. I went to the British Airways desk for my luggage. They had no record of it and said I should go to Delta's terminal, which was about a half-hour ride via Heathrow's free train system. Delta took me downstairs to their luggage department. Some kid sent my luggage over to British Airways yesterday. So it was another half-hour trip back to British Airways. I purposefully didn't talk to the same customer-service agent. Thank God! The one I zeroed must've been manager material because she pointed across the cavernous room to a stack of luggage in the corner that Delta dropped off yesterday. My luggage was there! Wish the first British Airways chick would've told me about that mountain of luggage.
The taxi ride to my hotel was 62 pounds (YIKES!). I gave him 70 because my travel book says a tip is not mandatory but expected, plus we had a nice talk about British Airways and UK TV.
Weird thing about my motel is that I can't leave with the key. They say there's 24-hour reception; I just have to drop the key off when I leave.
Since my room didn't have soap, I walked a few blocks down to this avenue, Everglade I think it's called, and hit the chemist. I ventured further down the Ave. and got a fried fish burger, steak fries (a.k.a. chips) and a can of Pepsi for 5.80. A nice treat since I don't eat breaded fish at home.
I then went to Hyde Park, which is about a half-mile away, because the band Blur played a pair of reunion gigs there last July for 50,000 each night. Beautiful park! It's huge!!! Best park I've ever been to. They have a Peter Pan statue, tons of fountains, and hundreds of people were out enjoying the 80-plus weather. I made it down to Princess Diana's Memorial Fountain. Interesting. It was ginormous circle -- little kids playing in it -- with the occasional tiny concrete bridge you could walk over.
Afterwards, I came back to my hotel and mapped out tomorrow's itinerary. Gonna take public transit tomorrow, so I was researching that. Looks like I gotta go about four blocks around the corner to Paddington Station and get a daily pass.
I also bought my nephew Billy his B-day gift -- his party was today, I believe. Got him a red double-decker bus and black taxi cab. It's not Star Wars but hopefully he'll dig it.
I then ate dinner at an Indian restaurant. Good food, slow service.
Oh, and at one point today I realized that I forgot to bring the attachment to download pictures from my camera to computer, so I had to go out and buy a memory card. I paid 30 pounds for 8GB; hope I didn't get ripped off.
It's about 9:20 p.m. I'm really tired. I know this is poorly written but I wanted to get it down on blogspot. Gonna watch a little telly then sleep like a frat boy through chem class.
I didn't arrive in JFK until about 9:15. I was standing in the longest line (about 75 people in front of me). The board above the Delta customer-service desk had cities like Dallas and Seattle and future flight times that night. I assumed the London flight was long gone. Boy, was I wrong, when 25 minutes later I turned around and saw Delta international computer screen. At 9:53 I saw that my London flight had been pushed back until 10. I ran from gate 24 to 12 as fast as I could, getting down there at 9:59, but the plane had taken off. Delta said they could put me on British Airways, but not until 9:35 the next night, so I booked a room at an EconoLodge in Queens -- not the safest of neighborhoods.
I checked out the next morning. Running low on cash (the taxi the night before cost me $20 [$14.90 plus a tip]), so I started walking the six miles to the airport. Luckily a few blocks into my trip I found out about a bus that went to the airport. Thanks to the kindness of strangers I made it the airport safe and sound (one flight attendant swiped her MetroPass for me and I paid her $2.25, since the bus doesn't take cash; and a TSA employee told me to sit tight when I almost got off at the wrong stop).
I lounged around the airport for about nine hours. Talked to my mom and my sister Diane a lot, took a nap in the afternoon in the waiting room of a rarely-used gate, and ate some overpriced food. Glad I went to the airport early because I went over to Delta and they verified that my one piece of luggage was in Heathrow already.
On the plane ride I mostly slept (kinda of a waste that I charged up my Mac and iPod). It only took six hours to get to London. And British Airways is the shiz-net! Very comfortable.
I got into London 9:30 a.m. local time. I went to the British Airways desk for my luggage. They had no record of it and said I should go to Delta's terminal, which was about a half-hour ride via Heathrow's free train system. Delta took me downstairs to their luggage department. Some kid sent my luggage over to British Airways yesterday. So it was another half-hour trip back to British Airways. I purposefully didn't talk to the same customer-service agent. Thank God! The one I zeroed must've been manager material because she pointed across the cavernous room to a stack of luggage in the corner that Delta dropped off yesterday. My luggage was there! Wish the first British Airways chick would've told me about that mountain of luggage.
The taxi ride to my hotel was 62 pounds (YIKES!). I gave him 70 because my travel book says a tip is not mandatory but expected, plus we had a nice talk about British Airways and UK TV.
Weird thing about my motel is that I can't leave with the key. They say there's 24-hour reception; I just have to drop the key off when I leave.
Since my room didn't have soap, I walked a few blocks down to this avenue, Everglade I think it's called, and hit the chemist. I ventured further down the Ave. and got a fried fish burger, steak fries (a.k.a. chips) and a can of Pepsi for 5.80. A nice treat since I don't eat breaded fish at home.
I then went to Hyde Park, which is about a half-mile away, because the band Blur played a pair of reunion gigs there last July for 50,000 each night. Beautiful park! It's huge!!! Best park I've ever been to. They have a Peter Pan statue, tons of fountains, and hundreds of people were out enjoying the 80-plus weather. I made it down to Princess Diana's Memorial Fountain. Interesting. It was ginormous circle -- little kids playing in it -- with the occasional tiny concrete bridge you could walk over.
Afterwards, I came back to my hotel and mapped out tomorrow's itinerary. Gonna take public transit tomorrow, so I was researching that. Looks like I gotta go about four blocks around the corner to Paddington Station and get a daily pass.
I also bought my nephew Billy his B-day gift -- his party was today, I believe. Got him a red double-decker bus and black taxi cab. It's not Star Wars but hopefully he'll dig it.
I then ate dinner at an Indian restaurant. Good food, slow service.
Oh, and at one point today I realized that I forgot to bring the attachment to download pictures from my camera to computer, so I had to go out and buy a memory card. I paid 30 pounds for 8GB; hope I didn't get ripped off.
It's about 9:20 p.m. I'm really tired. I know this is poorly written but I wanted to get it down on blogspot. Gonna watch a little telly then sleep like a frat boy through chem class.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Steinbeck on socialism
Been reading Ronald Wright's A Short History of Progress. On page 124 it has an interesting sentence: John Steinbeck once said that socialism never took root in American because the poor see themselves not as an exploited proletariat but as temporarily embarrassed millionaires.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
ICP
Saw them last night with my buddy Derek at the Electric Factory here in Philly. First off, I was jazzed that I got free on-street parking right around the corner in front of the Red Cross building. Yep, I'm officially middle-aged. Getting excited over a parking place. Christ, I might as well hike my pants up to my sternum.
Anyway, I caught the last two songs by the first opening act, Necro. Two guys on stage with an iPod. Not too bad. Hardcore stuff you would except at an ICP show. And their profanity-laced banter seemed to go over well with the crowd.
After their set ended, a black curtain was drawn across the stage. Near the back of the venue, up a stairwell for all to see was Mike E. Clark, ICP's legendary producer (who has also worked with House Of Pain and Kid Rock). Dressed in a white lab coat and kamikaze goggles, he DJ'ed with help from his MacBook. With most of his thinning mop of hair dyed clown-red, he entertained the crowd for about ten minutes.
All-female metal band, Kittie, from Canada, were up next. Many of their songs sounded the same, probably due to the fact that they didn't pause between most songs, but lead singer / rhythm guitar player Morgan Lander made up for it with bleach-blond Pink-ish haircuit; plus she was working those black biker shorts. I liked their set so much, I downloaded their latest from eMusic.
Next up was Coolio. Pretty pathetic. He had three relatives up there with him and a banner in the background of GANGSTER'S PARADISE (what was that, like 10 years ago?). At 46, his voice is shot. I think he needed backup to pull off a live performance. Of course, it didn't help that at least 20 minutes of his 45-minute set consisted of banter. And I felt bad for his son, who was up there, because they called him AI, for Artificial Intelligence, since -- in Coolio's words -- "he's dumb." Poor kid. Born into a bad family. Oh, and when Coolio did "Gangster's Paradise", I couldn't help but think of Weird Al's "Amish Paradise". Mucho superior in my mind.
Thankfully, Coolio and his low-ambition crew left the stage. Mike E. Clark came back for his third set on the opportunely-located stairwell platform. I don't remember if it was during this set or when he had "performed" between Kittie and Coolie that he played ICP's "Chop Chop Slide". Fascinating to watch. It involves a lot of audience participation. The crowd hit all the right notes. Amazing!
Eventually, the last opening act, the Kottonmouth Kings, hit the stage. They seemed to be a bunch of stoners. Apparently the crowd loved them, with a number of their songs being about weed. Whatever, what am I, in the seventh grade?
Mike E. Clark didn't entertain the audience after the eternity of the Kottonmouth's hour set. Insane Clown Posse hit the stage around eleven o'clock.
ICP have been a guilty pleasure for the past five or so, even since my friend Derek turned me on to them. Their frequent use of the word "bitch" turns my liberal ass off, but Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope are good rappers, and their mythology of the Dark Carnival is fascinating. But I gotta hand to them, they really know how to put on a show. They go through all the hits (hardly any tunes from their latest, Bang Pow Boom). Songs I recognized were "Homies", "Let's Go All the Way", "Tilt-A-Whirl", "The Neden Game", "Serial Killer", "Fuck the World" and "Miracles". Gotta give 'em props for doing "Miracles", especially after SNL parodied it.
Proving that it was a white-trash event, throughout the show, ICP showered the crowd with Faygo soda (smelled like root beer, for the most part) and occasionally shooting out confetti. I don't know, I thought it would've been a better show if they would've practiced a little moderation with the Faygo and confetti.
All in all, I'm glad I went. I felt like an anthropologist in the clown-ish inner city. Definitely a different scene. And they finished with "Bang! Pow! Boom!", from their most recent full-length. A nice ten-minute ditty to end a white-trash event.
Anyway, I caught the last two songs by the first opening act, Necro. Two guys on stage with an iPod. Not too bad. Hardcore stuff you would except at an ICP show. And their profanity-laced banter seemed to go over well with the crowd.
After their set ended, a black curtain was drawn across the stage. Near the back of the venue, up a stairwell for all to see was Mike E. Clark, ICP's legendary producer (who has also worked with House Of Pain and Kid Rock). Dressed in a white lab coat and kamikaze goggles, he DJ'ed with help from his MacBook. With most of his thinning mop of hair dyed clown-red, he entertained the crowd for about ten minutes.
All-female metal band, Kittie, from Canada, were up next. Many of their songs sounded the same, probably due to the fact that they didn't pause between most songs, but lead singer / rhythm guitar player Morgan Lander made up for it with bleach-blond Pink-ish haircuit; plus she was working those black biker shorts. I liked their set so much, I downloaded their latest from eMusic.
Next up was Coolio. Pretty pathetic. He had three relatives up there with him and a banner in the background of GANGSTER'S PARADISE (what was that, like 10 years ago?). At 46, his voice is shot. I think he needed backup to pull off a live performance. Of course, it didn't help that at least 20 minutes of his 45-minute set consisted of banter. And I felt bad for his son, who was up there, because they called him AI, for Artificial Intelligence, since -- in Coolio's words -- "he's dumb." Poor kid. Born into a bad family. Oh, and when Coolio did "Gangster's Paradise", I couldn't help but think of Weird Al's "Amish Paradise". Mucho superior in my mind.
Thankfully, Coolio and his low-ambition crew left the stage. Mike E. Clark came back for his third set on the opportunely-located stairwell platform. I don't remember if it was during this set or when he had "performed" between Kittie and Coolie that he played ICP's "Chop Chop Slide". Fascinating to watch. It involves a lot of audience participation. The crowd hit all the right notes. Amazing!
Eventually, the last opening act, the Kottonmouth Kings, hit the stage. They seemed to be a bunch of stoners. Apparently the crowd loved them, with a number of their songs being about weed. Whatever, what am I, in the seventh grade?
Mike E. Clark didn't entertain the audience after the eternity of the Kottonmouth's hour set. Insane Clown Posse hit the stage around eleven o'clock.
ICP have been a guilty pleasure for the past five or so, even since my friend Derek turned me on to them. Their frequent use of the word "bitch" turns my liberal ass off, but Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope are good rappers, and their mythology of the Dark Carnival is fascinating. But I gotta hand to them, they really know how to put on a show. They go through all the hits (hardly any tunes from their latest, Bang Pow Boom). Songs I recognized were "Homies", "Let's Go All the Way", "Tilt-A-Whirl", "The Neden Game", "Serial Killer", "Fuck the World" and "Miracles". Gotta give 'em props for doing "Miracles", especially after SNL parodied it.
Proving that it was a white-trash event, throughout the show, ICP showered the crowd with Faygo soda (smelled like root beer, for the most part) and occasionally shooting out confetti. I don't know, I thought it would've been a better show if they would've practiced a little moderation with the Faygo and confetti.
All in all, I'm glad I went. I felt like an anthropologist in the clown-ish inner city. Definitely a different scene. And they finished with "Bang! Pow! Boom!", from their most recent full-length. A nice ten-minute ditty to end a white-trash event.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Flashforward, part 2 [[WITH SPOILERS!]]
Finally finished listening to it. I still think the characters were two-dimensional, but I don't read sci-fi for the characters; I read it for the mind-blowing ideas. Part of the ending had only Nobel Prize winners achieving near-eternal life, and humans the only intelligent life in the universe. Interesting stuff. It did get me thinking. The afterlife is a fantasy. I'm becoming more convinced that when you die, that's it -- lights out. There could still be a God (something had to kick-start the Big Bang) and having a limited shelf-life could mean we burn bright, burn fast; though that doesn't mean we should lead selfish, hedonistic lives.
I understand why religion thrives. Nobody wants to die. The afterlife is a nice safety net. I suffer in this world and am rewarded in the next. But the more I read, I see incredibly intelligent people are atheists. Maybe they're onto something.
Of course, maybe I'm just looking for an easy out. All of my sins would be a non-issue if life ends with my last heartbeat.
I understand why religion thrives. Nobody wants to die. The afterlife is a nice safety net. I suffer in this world and am rewarded in the next. But the more I read, I see incredibly intelligent people are atheists. Maybe they're onto something.
Of course, maybe I'm just looking for an easy out. All of my sins would be a non-issue if life ends with my last heartbeat.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
carnilvale
Took my four-year-old nephew, Buff, this afternoon to this little carnival in the parking lot behind the office building I work in. He seemed to have a good time. On the ride there he informed me that Jedi Knights didn't go to barbers or hair dressers because they used their lightsabers to cut their hair. Out of the mouth of Buff.
The carnival had no more than a dozen rides. Buff's a bit of a daredevil, so we did the funhouse twice. It was funny: during Bumper Cars (I had to drive, even though he's 42" tall) he grinned when we got slammed on both sides by other cars. Other rides we did were airplanes going round and round, lifting six feet off the ground; merry-go-round, which he seemed bored with; yellow slide -- about 20 feet in the air, where you go down on a piece of canvas (Buff on my lap); and haunted ride, which was lame but he seemed a little scared. We also played basketball hoop and shooting balls in slanted rubber baskets, twice each; what a gyp . . . five bucks for three balls, and House almost always wins.
I did buy Buff a lemonade, and he wanted cotton candy, but I kept putting him off because cash was running low and I didn't want to spoil his dinner. Glad I did because I wound up eating supper at my sister's and he woofed down his food. Glad to see it, since he's usually a picky eater. He has a 110% sweet tooth.
When I finally got ready to leave in the early evening, I though it was cute that Buff asked when I was coming back. Now that's nice. . . .
Wow, what a long post! Sounds like I had more fun than a four-year-old!!!
The carnival had no more than a dozen rides. Buff's a bit of a daredevil, so we did the funhouse twice. It was funny: during Bumper Cars (I had to drive, even though he's 42" tall) he grinned when we got slammed on both sides by other cars. Other rides we did were airplanes going round and round, lifting six feet off the ground; merry-go-round, which he seemed bored with; yellow slide -- about 20 feet in the air, where you go down on a piece of canvas (Buff on my lap); and haunted ride, which was lame but he seemed a little scared. We also played basketball hoop and shooting balls in slanted rubber baskets, twice each; what a gyp . . . five bucks for three balls, and House almost always wins.
I did buy Buff a lemonade, and he wanted cotton candy, but I kept putting him off because cash was running low and I didn't want to spoil his dinner. Glad I did because I wound up eating supper at my sister's and he woofed down his food. Glad to see it, since he's usually a picky eater. He has a 110% sweet tooth.
When I finally got ready to leave in the early evening, I though it was cute that Buff asked when I was coming back. Now that's nice. . . .
Wow, what a long post! Sounds like I had more fun than a four-year-old!!!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Fixx
Earlier this week I bought ticket to see them this summer in Atlantic City. My old cassette of Reach the Beach was busted, so I bought the LP used, and I uploaded their followup, Phantoms -- good goddamn, the lyrics! I gotta say, they're an awesome band!!! I was a passive fan back in the day. I can't wait to see them! What sold me was watching some clips of them live on You Tube.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Flashforward
Been listening to the audiobook Flashforward. I'm about halfway through it. It's OK, though the author does put forth an interesting idea. Oh, in case you're unfamiliar with the novel plot (or the TV adaption, which is slightly different, I hear), a science experiment lets every person on Earth experience life 20 years or so in the future for a few minutes. The author (Sawyer, is it?) hypothesizes, via his main characters, that the future is fixed, just like the past. An idea to mull over. . . . And he mentions Niven's Law, named after the sci-fi writer. Apparently, it means that time travel is impossible because as soon as somebody figures it out, the universe ends to prevent any paradoxes. Fascinating! Sorry to say, I probably won't read/listen to anything else from this Flashforward writer. His characters are too two-dimensional for my tastes, and his plotting needs work. The novel would've been a million times better if instead of all these sorry-sort characters whining about their futures, how about everybody keeps seeing glimpses of their future? Maybe to keep things simple, have the future-seers be a small group of people -- perhaps the cabal of scientists who kick-started it all. Yes, I suffer from the Robert B. Parker affliction where whatever I read/watch I'm criticizing with how I would write it.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
blindsided
I was babysitting my four-year-old nephew, Buff, this afternoon. My sister came back early from chaperoning her oldest, Marty, to a birthday party. Buff was watching college-girl gymnastics while lying in a chair that can lean back and rotate all the way around. All of the sudden he started crying. My sister asked what happened as Buff went over to her. He said he kneed himself in the eye. Apparently his eyes were closed and regarding his knee, "I didn't even see it coming." Funny. . . .
Friday, April 30, 2010
pickup artist
Pretty funny: I got to work early this morning so I walked a couple blocks to the local Acme. So I'm standing at the stoplight, waiting for it to turn green. Peripherally I see the pedestrian to my left eying me, but caustic city slicker I am, I ignore her. Predictably, she starts talking to me. She's about 5'6", wears a nylon jacket (the kind that companies give out as promo items), has glasses with lenses that are too big in these designer-frame days, and she owned a headful of piebald hair; if I had to guess, I'd say she was in her mid- to late-40s (though she seemed touched, so she probably was older). Anyway, the light turns green, and the conversation goes something like this:
Her: "Hi."
Me: "What's up."
Her: "Where do you work?"
Me: "Down the street?"
Her: "Where at?"
Me: "I don't know, I just started. Why do ask?"
Her: "I'm just curious. Is it the PSFS building?"
Me: "No, it's the one a couple addresses away."
Her: "One George Washington Plaza?"
Me: "Yeah, I think that's it. So, do you work around here?"
Her (proudly): "I work at Villanova Food Services."
I then walked into Acme, and she trailed off. I don't know what's scarier, that she was obsessed with my work address or that I lied so easily, 'cause I do work in the PSFS building.
Her: "Hi."
Me: "What's up."
Her: "Where do you work?"
Me: "Down the street?"
Her: "Where at?"
Me: "I don't know, I just started. Why do ask?"
Her: "I'm just curious. Is it the PSFS building?"
Me: "No, it's the one a couple addresses away."
Her: "One George Washington Plaza?"
Me: "Yeah, I think that's it. So, do you work around here?"
Her (proudly): "I work at Villanova Food Services."
I then walked into Acme, and she trailed off. I don't know what's scarier, that she was obsessed with my work address or that I lied so easily, 'cause I do work in the PSFS building.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
The Wrestler
I caught this movie over the weekend. Really surprised by it. I'm always hesitant of movies that had an Oscar buzz because a lot of times the story sucks -- the nomination is political or an acting performance is awesome. But The Wrestler was really good all around: great acting, excellent script, decent directing. It was nice to see Mickey Rourke in a great movie. Reminded me of his stellar work in the eighties when he was in such flicks as Barfly, Johnny Handsome and Year of the Dragon. Looking forward to his next film. . . .
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Bill Maher
Been listening to podcasts from iTunes of his HBO show, Real Time. After all these years, he still makes me laugh, probably because I agree with him 90% of the time. But he can be a real prick when he turns deathly serious by cocking his head and pursing his lips as he spouts an opinion that's not open to discussion. Guess it shouldn't surprise me. You gotta have a huge ego to be a performer of his stature.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
reflection
A topic I'm obsessed with is free will, probably because of 16 years of Catholic schooling. Does anybody really have it? I mean, we're all born in times where traditions and modes of thought are thrust upon us. If I was born into an aristocrat family in the Middle Ages, there's a good chance I would look down on peasants. It's almost like society forms your personality.
Probably why I think about this is because in a lot of social situations I feel out of place because I'm a liberal and most people I run into are conservative. Guess that's what happens when ya live in a right-of-center country.
Probably why I think about this is because in a lot of social situations I feel out of place because I'm a liberal and most people I run into are conservative. Guess that's what happens when ya live in a right-of-center country.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
ah, youth
I was talking to one of my sisters last night on the phone. In the background, my two-year-old goddaughter was saying in her cute littler toddler voice, "Luke, I'm your father" because her older brothers -- ages six and four -- recently saw the first two Star Wars movies recently (episodes IV and V for you geeks out there). Then my goddaughter went into the living room and said to her dad, "Luke, I'm your father." He replied, "No, I'm your father." Her response: "No, I'm your father." Funny stuff.
Monday, March 1, 2010
relapse
Made the mistake of drinking this past weekend. On the plus side, these binges are happening less and less; last time I got drunk was a few weeks ago. It's more of a bad habit now instead of a need I can't ignore. Guess I'm finally "maturing out". 'Bout time.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Around the World in 80 Days
Been listening to the unabridged version narrated by Frederick Davidson. It's really good! This novel by Jules Verne is definitely a book of its time but that's OK; it gives a good view of the London upper class in the late 19th century. And it helps that Davidson narrates it like a British aristocrat from that time. Can't wait to download from Audible.com two other classic Verne novels: 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and Journey to the Center of the Earth.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Steinbeck
Been reading Grapes of Wrath. It's really good. Besides his prose, I like the whole populist feel of it, plus it gives you an idea of what life was like in the Midwest during the Dust Bowl.
Kinda crazy how the older I get, the more I'm enjoying the classics. A couple years ago I loved The Affair by Graham Greene and a few months ago I listened to the unabridged audio for Moby Dick. Hard to believe in my 20s and 30s all I read was pop fiction. Maturity is awesome!
Kinda crazy how the older I get, the more I'm enjoying the classics. A couple years ago I loved The Affair by Graham Greene and a few months ago I listened to the unabridged audio for Moby Dick. Hard to believe in my 20s and 30s all I read was pop fiction. Maturity is awesome!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
death of America?
I've been listening to The Young Turks political show a lot lately. They've been covering CPAC, that conservative conference, ad nauseam. The more I listen to conservatives rant about small government and no taxes, the more I get depressed. It seems so much of the country buys that antiquated ideology. Look, nobody likes paying taxes but you need to for social services and defending the nation. You don't need to nationalize everything but you also don't need to privatize everything -- we need to walk a fine line. I fear if the conservative narrative doesn't fade soon, this country will eventually collapse. Christ, why can't we be more like Europe where capitalism thrives but with reasonable regulation? I don't know, maybe the conservative rule here in the U.S.A. was bound to happen. When you have a country founded on freedom, I guess it was inevitable that people were going to take it to psychotic degrees. Although, in my opinion, being anti-government is anti-American.
Monday, February 22, 2010
New Religion
I officially joined the First Unitarian Church downtown yesterday. It was pretty cool, my mother and two sisters came out for it. There was a potluck afterwards. My sister Diane made some meatballs, which turned out well since only one other person brought food -- apparently, most of the congregation didn't get the email alert earlier in the week, even though the potluck is every third Sunday. It worked out well, though.
In the afternoon, I hung out at my sister Diane's house. Her two boys seemed to enjoy the two battery-less lightsabers I dropped off that morning, which I had purchased on Saturday at the Church's rummage sale; I got my goddaughter (their sister) a little stuffed, flamboyant turtle.
That night, I had planned to clean and do a little laundry, but I got sucked into a YouTube void by watching clips of Head Case's Ali Wentworth. Goddamn, George Stephanopoulos must be loving life be married to her. Not only is she still beautiful, but she's actually gotten funnier with age. Nice to see her mature since her days on In Living Colour.
In the afternoon, I hung out at my sister Diane's house. Her two boys seemed to enjoy the two battery-less lightsabers I dropped off that morning, which I had purchased on Saturday at the Church's rummage sale; I got my goddaughter (their sister) a little stuffed, flamboyant turtle.
That night, I had planned to clean and do a little laundry, but I got sucked into a YouTube void by watching clips of Head Case's Ali Wentworth. Goddamn, George Stephanopoulos must be loving life be married to her. Not only is she still beautiful, but she's actually gotten funnier with age. Nice to see her mature since her days on In Living Colour.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
loser
Fucking moron I am. Friday night I was supposed to go to an 80s Party down at some bar in my old neighborhood (Frankford section of the city), but when I got out of work at seven, I went food shopping. By the time I got home and ate dinner it was 10 p.m. Dumb!
Last night I was supposed to go to see the Supersuckers in West Chester. I took a nap after dinner but forgot to set my alarm, so I slept through the night. That really pisses me off 'cause I paid about $20 for the ticket already. Stupid!
Last night I was supposed to go to see the Supersuckers in West Chester. I took a nap after dinner but forgot to set my alarm, so I slept through the night. That really pisses me off 'cause I paid about $20 for the ticket already. Stupid!
Friday, February 19, 2010
Mission of Burma
Saw them last night at the Unitarian Church. Really loud! My ears are still ringing!!! No wonder the guitarist got tinnitus in his 20s (they're now all around 50 years old).
I'm not a fan of a their new material, though they do sound great live with the bass sounding like it's part of a garage-rock outfit. They did do all of their old hits: "Fame and Fortune", "That's How I Escaped My Certain Fate", "Academy Fight Song" and "That's When I Reach for My Revolver", however, they didn't get through the first refrain on the last one 'cause the vocalist/bassist thought he was out of tune (which he wasn't).
Glad I went. Good show, and got to have a little dinner with some old work peeps (Kevin and David) at the Irish Pub at 20th and Walnut. Their burger is so awesome, it's to slaughter for.
I'm not a fan of a their new material, though they do sound great live with the bass sounding like it's part of a garage-rock outfit. They did do all of their old hits: "Fame and Fortune", "That's How I Escaped My Certain Fate", "Academy Fight Song" and "That's When I Reach for My Revolver", however, they didn't get through the first refrain on the last one 'cause the vocalist/bassist thought he was out of tune (which he wasn't).
Glad I went. Good show, and got to have a little dinner with some old work peeps (Kevin and David) at the Irish Pub at 20th and Walnut. Their burger is so awesome, it's to slaughter for.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Go-Betweens
Because I'm infatuated with Australian culture, I was reading the Go-Betweens biography over the weekend. Something I'd always thought, which this book drove home, was that most artists are self-serving sonofabitches who will do almost anything in their pursuit of fame of fortune. For instance, in the late 80s, the Go-Betweens had a good lineup, but then the two songwriters decided to break up the band so they could do solo careers, leaving the drummer, Lindy Morrison, and violinist, Amanda Brown, unemployed. And the one songwriter was dating Amanda, and he wondered why she was pissed at him. Unbelievable. . . . Still, they had some great singles. Too bad their compilation 1978-1990 is out of print, 'cause that's all ya really need from them in your record collection.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
new view
For about the past 10 years or so, I've been a staunch socialist, but the older I get the more I'm for a combination of capitalism and socialism, like what most of Europe has. Have solid social problems and strict regulation. Because most people I've come across are more motivated by money than love for their fellow human beings.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
then again, maybe I won't
I was going to give up on writing but think I'm gonna stick it out a little while longer. I'll finish the edgy fantasy Young Adult novel I'm working on before revisiting the idea of packing it in. I'll be 40 in April -- there just comes a time when you gotta pack your dreams away and start doing other things (in my case, volunteering and activism).
Once I finish the YA novel, I'll do something I hadn't done in the past due to pride: network. In my twenties and early thirties, I had just sent out query letters to agents in publishers; and in my late thirties, the DIY route was a train wreck because I suck at self-promotion.
Hopefully, something will work out. I'd like to keep writing. I'm not prime-time enough to make a living at it, but it'd be nice to do it as a hobby. Keeps my brain active. Plus, it's fun!
Once I finish the YA novel, I'll do something I hadn't done in the past due to pride: network. In my twenties and early thirties, I had just sent out query letters to agents in publishers; and in my late thirties, the DIY route was a train wreck because I suck at self-promotion.
Hopefully, something will work out. I'd like to keep writing. I'm not prime-time enough to make a living at it, but it'd be nice to do it as a hobby. Keeps my brain active. Plus, it's fun!
Saturday, January 30, 2010
thought of the day
My day job has me dealing with the stock market. Yesterday I thought life would be more interesting if the word ticker was replaced with fucker. As in: "Yeah, we're now traded on NASDAQ. Our fucker is T&A." It would certainly make my days more entertaining.
Friday, January 29, 2010
bloody January
Jesus Christ on the crapper! Another one of my heroes has died. Howard Zinn, the left-wing historian who gave us the excellent tome A People's History of the United States. On the plus side, he lived to the ripe old age of 87. Still, I'm gonna miss watching new interviews and talks with him. With his constant smiling and avuncular tone, you couldn't help but like him. Noam Chomsky could learn a lesson or two from Zinn's public-speaking style. . . .
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Obama's Novel Prize
I didn't bother watching his State of the Union last night. Kinda disgusted with his administration. Probably what irks me the most is the Afghan surge. I loved when he picked up the Nobel Prize how he said something to the effect that sometimes you have to go to war for peace. WHAT?!? That's like saying you love your fiancée but you're gonna fuck as many other women as possible, just to make sure you love her.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
back from the dead
Was going to delete this blog, but I'm gonna keep it going, mainly because when I go on vacations it's the best way to communicate with my family while I'm overseas.
Until then, I'm gonna treat this like a real blog -- no more record reviews.
Here's something that has me down today: the novelist Robert B. Parker has died. Kinda weird how I'm reading his latest, The Professional, this week.
Until then, I'm gonna treat this like a real blog -- no more record reviews.
Here's something that has me down today: the novelist Robert B. Parker has died. Kinda weird how I'm reading his latest, The Professional, this week.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Supersuckers: DEVIL'S FOOD
The last of my recent Supersuckers downloads, Devil's Food is a collection of outtakes and rarities. It touches on what they do best: rock 'n' roll and country music. And this being a compilation, there are plenty of covers, like Outkast's "Hey Ya!", 'The Chips' "Rubber Biscuits" (doo-wop now country-fied!), and "Sail On" from Smokey and the Bandit. There is also the rockin' title track and the kick-ass closer, "End of An Era", with slightly distorted vocals. Yes!Rating: 4 outta 5 stars
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Triffids: BORN SANDY DEVOTIONAL
When I was vacationing in Australia last December, I picked up The Triffids greatest hits, Australian Melodrama. Great disc! Only one throwaway track. So when I saw eMusic offering Born Sandy Devotional (BSD), I downloaded it quicker than John Cook paved the way for European colonialism. Released in '86, BSD was ironically recorded in the UK, but Aussies embraced it like an INXS album. What's cool about BSD is that all ten tracks are awesome, with "Wide Open Road" (video) being the standout. Sadly, the theme is a bit of a downer -- unrequited love -- though, it's not obvious.The reissue of BSD includes nine bonus tracks (read: demos). Most of them are for hardcore Trifidi fans only, with singer/songwriter David McComb either reciting poetry or singing while playing an electric guitar. However, two of them are fantastic and feature a full band. "Convent Walls" has a lovely melody and "Born Sandy Devotional" doesn't appear on the actual album, but it rocks, thanks to the drummer banging the hell out of the ride cymbal.
God bless 1980s Australia!!!
Rating: 5 outta 5 stars
Friday, September 4, 2009
Supersuckers: MOTHERFUCKERS BE TRIPPIN'
The phrase "it grows on you" is a hackneyed one, but it's the case of this 2003 release. Musically it sound like a continuation of The Supersuckers' 1999 full-length, Evil Powers of Rock 'n' Roll, but lyrically vocalist Eddie Spaghetti celebrates mostly the decadent bar scene -- drinking, fighting, fucking. On first listen, I only liked two songs, "Rock 'n' Roll Records (Ain't Selling This Year)" and "Pretty Fucked Up". But by the fifth listen, more songs swirled in my gray matter: "Rock Your Ass", "The Fight Song" and "Bubblegum and Beer". Thank you, Satan!Rating: 3 outta 5 stars
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Japandroids: POST-NOTHING
Oh Christ, what a waste of an eMusic download! These garage rockers love their distortion and playing songs that are w-a-a-a-a-a-y too long. I think other active acts, like No Age and Times New Viking, do the whole garage-rock thang a lot better. But that's just me, who on weekends likes to dress up like a Cylon and quote lines from Rashomon.Rating: 0 outta 5 stars
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Telekinesis: TELEKINESIS!
Holy shit on a compact disc, Merge Records just keep getting better and better! Twenty years going, and they're still putting out kick-ass gems like Arcade Fire, M. Ward, Rosebuds, and now Telekinesis. Indie-pop rock doesn't get much better than this! They have a slight mod influence, which would explain the cover art, and a bit of acoustic guitar, even where there's an electric guitar track. Plus, they're good with song titles: "Coast of Carolina", "Awkward Kisser" and "Imaginary Friend". Only downside with this debut is their sound and songwriting can't sustain a full-length. About halfway though, things start to get boring, though they do pick up near the end of the album, with songs like "All of a Sudden" and "I Saw Lightning". And I have to give them props for starting and ending the album with acoustic songs. Goddamn, can't wait to see these cats live -- would make a nice double bill with Chicago's The Office.Rating: 4 outta 5 stars
Friday, August 28, 2009
Broken Social Scene: BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE
The last of my Metric-related releases, Broken Social Scene are a collective of Canadian musicians, which includes Metric's lead singer, Emily Haines. It's a great idea (friends getting together to make music for the fun of it); unfortunately, a great idea doesn't equal an awesome album. The problem is that the type of songs are all over the place -- too disparate. There's indie-fuzz rock, folky stuff, and a few electronic numbers. Out of 21 tracks, only three are keepers: the indie-rock "Swimmers", the quirky "Tremoloa Debut", and the acoustic "All My Friends". Oh, Canada, why must you break my music-loving heart so?Rating: 1 outta 5 stars
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Psyclone Rangers: FEEL NICE
I caught this Philly band back in the mid-90s, when they opened for The Dickies. That weekend, I picked up their sophomore CD, The Devil May Care, whose first track, the dynamite "The Deal", they opened up with. Well, it's only taken me about 15 years to track down their debut, but it was well worth the wait. Feel Nice is a much stronger record than Devil. The latter had too many mid-tempo and slow numbers, but the former features pretty much all up-tempo songs in the garage rock vein, with "I Wanna Be Jack Kennedy" kicking things off, and the quasi title track, "I Feel Nice", popping up four tracks later. Sadly, Feel Nice isn't a great album. Holding it back from classic status are two things: too many songs (should've been 10 tracks instead of 12), and the inane vocals-only at the end of "Christie Indecision" and "You're Not Edie Sedwick". Still, well worth picking up if you're a fan of Philly music or 90s indie rock. Plus, it's out of print with Half.com selling it for a buck or two, pre-shipping. Shi-eeee-it, they're practically giving it way!4 outta 5 stars
Friday, August 14, 2009
Metric: GROW UP AND BLOW AWAY
This is a collection of songs from Metric before their current lineup as a quartet. Grow Up and Blow Away only features singer Emily Haines and guitarist Jimmy Shaw. The sound is remarkably different from their three recent albums, which are rockin' New Wave; Blow is electronic-pop. It's painfully evident that Haines and Shaw wanted to be famous; making music for the times. The songs here -- from the late nineties and early noughties -- hardly feature any guitar and sounds as if Pink and Moby collaborated on a throwaway side project (that is if Pink was a mezzo-soprano). Nonetheless, a few tracks could find a home on your iPod, like the lead and last tracks, "Grow Up" and "Soft Rock Stars". The third song, "Rock Me Now", is good too, though, with its male co-lead vocal, sounds as if Haines and Shaw were listening too much to Duran Duran's "Breath After Breath". Overall, not atrocious, but now awesome either. Save it for the rabid Metric fans.2 outta 5 stars
Friday, July 31, 2009
Supersuckers: GET IT TOGETHER
I used to be a huge fan of The Supersuckers (even saw 'em twice), but I lost interest around 2000 after buying Evil Powers of Rock 'n' Roll because the songs sounded so much better live. Fortunately, the self-proclaimed "world's greatest rock 'n' roll band" are back in the sacrilicious saddle with this 2008 release. Get It Together is the best thing they've done since their debut, 1992's Smoke of Hell. While Hell was pretty much a punk record, Together is straight rock 'n' roll. What's nice about it is that they're love for country music is present, but in a subtle way; "She Is Leaving" is probably the best example of this. And there is a 100% country number, "Breaking Honey's Heart". But it's mostly rock here, with "Listen Up", "Paid", "I'm a Fucking Genius", "I Like It All, Man" -- fuck it, the whole album's great. Hard to believe it hasn't even sold 10,000 copies. It's up to you to change that. AND DON'T DOWNLOAD IT ILLEGALLY because they put it out on their own!Rating: 5 outta 5 stars
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Meatmen: COVER THE EARTH
Well, it took almost 30 years, but The Meatmen have finally recorded a decent album. As you probably guessed, Cover The Earth is a full-length featuring covers, hence the tile (duh). Besides having the best lineup since their early seven-inches, what makes this album work is that most of the tracks are of the rock'n'roll vein. Standouts include GG Allins' "Highest Power", Jimmy Dean's "Big Bad John" and ABBA's "So Long". And there's a little variety here with the funkish "Psychedelic Shack" and the country-fied "We Didn't Kill Each Other (But Didn't We Try)". Sadly, though, what holds this album back from being great are the sophomoric comedic skits, courtesy of vocalist Tesco Vee, and too many songs -- 24 tunes clocking in at an hour. Still, well worth checking out.Rating: 4 outta 5 stars
Cage The Elephant: CAGE THE ELEPHANT
I feel like a bit of a jerk posting this review because my friend Whirls gave me this disc as a gift, but it isn't really my cup of coke. Cage The Elephant have a bar-band vibe about them. They probably would've fit in nicely with the Minneapolis scene, circa 1990. In that alternate universe, they might have opened for Soul Asylum or Titantic Love Affair. But it being 2009, Cage The Elephant remind me a tad of Dr. Dog. That said, one song on this debut is replayable: "Spoil to the Sun". Turn it up!Rating: 1 outta 5 stars
Friday, July 17, 2009
Emily Haines: KNIVES DON'T HAVE YOUR BACK
Man, I was really looking forward to this album, since I'm a huge fan of Emily Haines' main gig, Metric, but -- Christ! -- what a major disappointment!! This solo outing should set things straight that Metric is an actual band with all four members writing the songs (which would explain why it takes four years for them to put out an album). Almost every song on Knives Don't Have Your Back sounds the same: mumbly-singing and lethargic piano-playing. More boring than a morgue populated by a bunch of constipated CPAs. It almost sounds like Mates Of State with only Kori singing and playing her keyboard sans husband Jason's drumming and background vocals. Knives Don't Have Your Back is so bad, I'm not posting an MP3 and I'm rethinking downloading another Metric side project, Bang Lime (from the bassist and drummer). On the plus side, we have several Metric albums and a few EPs for some real entertainment.0 outta 5 stars
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Andews Sisters: 20TH CENTURY MASTERS - THE MILLENNIUM COLLECTION: THE BEST OF THE ANDREWS SISTERS
Recently, a coworker lent me The Essence of Frank Sinatra, a compilation that focused on Mr. Mob-wannabe's earlier recordings, before he lost his voice for a year or two. Really good stuff. It got me thinking about the Andrews Sisters, so I picked up this collection. Amazing! It has their most famous number, "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy", as well as "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree (With Anyone Elese But Me)", a tune I think I read about a long time ago in A Separate Peace. Oh, and there's "Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Posive", which is kind of kick-ass because I heard The Vindictives' cover of it first a number of years ago. Glad I picked up this disc. Twelve songs is about all I can take of these USO angels, but -- good goddamn -- what a dozen ditties!!!Rating: 5 outta 5 stars
"Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy"
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Whole What Bread: HEARTS OF HOODLUMS
I'm not even sure why I downloaded this full-length. I hardly listen to punk rock anymore -- too much unnecessary anger; I guess old habits die horrendously. That said, this black trio are more hard rock on this outing. Most of Hearts Of Hoodlums failed to entertain me, but I do like "Girlfriend Like This" (despite the borderline homophobe lyric: "I don't care what nobody say / If you don't like her you're probably gay") and "New Age Southern Baptist Nigga from da Hood" (a humourous track with the band channeling Iron Maiden or Judas Priest). And I want to say that the lead vocalist reminds me of Living Colour's Corey Glover, but I just may be making that connection for obvious reasons. Overall, not a bad album if you're into hard rock or punk rock.Rating: 2 outta 5 stars
"Girlfriend Like This"
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Sebastien Grainger: SEBASTIEN GRAINGER AND THE MOUNTAINS
I caught this cat a few weeks ago opening for Metric. It just may be the first time I got an album by an opening act (kudos, Metric, for bookng a warm-upper whose sound is similar to your own!). Unfortunately, Sebastien Grainger And The Mountains isn't as great his live show -- maybe it had something to do with his backing band, especially the bassist who specialized in background vocals. On the plus side, Mr. Grainger is one talented mofo. He doesn't sound like anything else out there, past or present. Basically, it's rock'n'roll with a slight New Wave edge. You can't hate that, right?Rating: 4 outta 5 stars
American Names
Monday, July 6, 2009
Metric: FANTASIES
This album was well worth the wait -- four years after the lovely Live It Out. Fantasies features 10 solid songs with no filler. What's cool about Metric is they do slightly different versions of their songs live, which I found out when I saw them here in Philly at the Trocadero on June 19. Anyway, Fantasies kicks off with a perfect pop song, "Help I'm Alive"; I love how singer Emily Haines reaches near the top of her vocal range for the refrain. The superb songwriting continues with "Sick Muse". Other soon-to-be classics include "Twilight Galaxy", "Gimme Shelter", "Blindness" and "Stadium Love". Such a great, upbeat album. See, kids, you can be New Wave without being too retro. It just takes a tight rhythm section (thanks Joules Scott-Key and and Josh Winstead!) and properly placed modern-rock guitar, courtesy of Jimmie Shaw. All right, I'm off to Toronto to get this quartet inducted in the Canadian Hall of Fame.Rating: 5 outta 5 stars
"Help I'm Alive"
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