Grant Morrison (or How I Gave Up Eating Fast Food 20 Years Ago)

I've just finished watching the animated All-Star Superman movie again, ostensibly to write-up a review for Unseen Films. This is the animated feature that, as of the Emerald City Comicon in Seattle this past March, artist Frank Quitely hadn't seen yet, even though it's based on a book that he drew the artwork for. It's a terrific story, one that focuses on the power of good, and the power of love. It also hinges on a terrific ability to tell a story, and that's where Grant Morrison, the writer of the book the animated film is based on, comes in.

Back in 1989, I was working at a little comic book store in an indoor flea market-type mall in Flushing, New York, just one subway stop from Shea Stadium, home of Major League Baseball's New York Mets. I would see all of the different comics that would come in each week, and was forming friendships with many of the customers that would come in. This was helpful in both directions, as I would recommend titles for people to read based on what they were already purchasing, and I would hear tales of approval from them about books they were enthralled by that I had yet to sample. Although I can't grab any names out of thin air, I can still picture the faces of some people who, all at roughly the same time, were suggesting that I start reading Doom Patrol and Animal Man, both of which were being written by Morrison.

Upon finally picking up an issue of both titles, I soon became so enamored with them that I searched out all of the previous issues of both series that he had written, which thankfully wasn't a lot. I came onto Doom Patrol somewhere around #29 or so, and the first issue he wrote was #19. He had started Animal Man roughly a year earlier than Doom Patrol, and was unfortunately nearing the end of what became his 26 issue run by the time I'd started around #19. To this day though, I still think his first four issue arc on Doom Patrol, and his entire 26 issue run on Animal Man (issues 1 thru 26 comprised one giant story), are some of the best stories I've ever read.

Now we move ahead a little bit to the Spring of 1992. By now I was working at a different comic book store (surprise...) in lower Manhattan, just a block or so east of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center. Morrison had by this time already become one of my very favorite writers. I was a regular attendee at local comic books conventions, and there was a pretty good sized one twice a year at a hotel right across the street from Madison Square Garden, home of the National Hockey League's New York Rangers, in the heart of New York City. There were many luminaries from the comic book world that would make appearances at these shows, talking, signing, and sketching for the weekend. It was at these shows that I first struck up acquaintances with people such as Mike Mignola, Mike Zeck, Paul Chadwick, and others.

There was one slight difference between Morrison and the regular guests at these shows. Many of the bigger comic book creators lived in and around the New York City area, so their attendance was no more than a long car ride, or a fairly short plane trip, away. Morrison was a resident of Scotland, so the likelihood of him being at one of these shows was fairly slim (although Dave McKean, a lifelong resident of England, was flown in for one in 1990 or so, just after the publication of the Batman: Arkham Asylum graphic novel, which was authored by Morrison, so there was hope.).

The same company that ran the large twice-yearly NYC shows also put on a smaller monthly show at a more intimate hotel venue in Manhattan, and usually had one guest at each of these. Sometimes a big name, sometimes a smaller one, but there would always be one. Lo and behold, for one of these small satellite shows, the one and only guest was going to be...Grant Morrison! I was in my interviewing phase at the time, with articles recently published about Mignola and Chadwick for the terrific trade magazine Amazing Heroes. I instantly started jotting down questions that I wanted to ask Morrison. Now, seeing as how Amazing Heroes had just ceased publication (my interview with Chadwick was the cover story of the final issue of the magazine's 12 year run), I wasn't sure where, or if, this would ever appear, but I wasn't concerned with that. I was much more interested in getting inside the head of the creative genius that had already made such a huge impact on me.

I made plans to meet up at the show with a customer from the store who was a friend of mine. I lost touch with him after I left the store in late 1992, but I can picture him clear as day as I write this, and I remember his name was Allen, and he was of Polish descent with an appropriate surname to back up his heritage. As I mentioned, I'd made friends with quite a number of regular patrons of the stores I'd worked at, which was kind of easy when you could tell right away, based on what books people were buying, who you might have a little something in common with. Too damn bad the audience was pretty much 100% guys then...the only cute girls that ever made their way into places like that at the time clung desperately and nervously to the arms of the guys who had dragged them there, for fear of catching some sort of contagious nerd disease.

The show was to be on a Saturday, and I was tremendously looking forward to it. I think I even saw Allen in the store on Friday, and he being a big Morrison fan as well, was also eagerly anticipating the chance to meet him. I forget exactly when during the day I had lunch, but I remember distinctly what it was and where I got it. To paraphrase a terrific joke by the late great comedian Richard Jeni (he was NOT talking about an airline that had wronged him at the time, I've just changed the punchline to NOT talk about a certain fast food chain); I don't want to embarrass the company by naming them, that wouldn't be proper...let's just say it rhymes with Soy Sodgers...

I don't know what was wrong with the bacon double cheeseburger I had from that establishment, or exactly when it started to let me know that something was wrong with it, but something wrong there was. I was probably already turning colors by the time I got home from work that evening, and wound up forcibly ejecting everything from my system in a northerly direction. Unfortunately, this didn't happen one-and-done. That would have been fine. No, whatever I had decided it wanted to do a full purge of my insides, and pretty much every hour on the hour, for the next 10 or 12, I found myself running to the bathroom. There was nothing left to give after the third or fourth trip, but my body didn't know or care by that point.

Needless to say, sleep was not anything I made friends with that evening, so by the time morning rolled around, I was exhausted. Nonetheless, I was still determined to go back into Manhattan, because when was I going to get another chance to see Morrison? I was 20 years old, young, thin, and in pretty decent shape. As I started to make motions to sit up, my mother came in my room, and with ONE FINGER thwarted my departure plans by saying something along the lines of "You're not going anywhere" as she gently shoved me in the chest with that single digit...and completely flattened me back into my bed. I'd never felt so defeated and crushed...and she was right, which was probably the worst part. I instantly vowed to never eat fast food again, and nearly 20 years later I've stuck to it, as the number of meals I've consumed from places like that since then can be counted on one hand...and I'd still have some fingers left over.

When next I saw Allen at the store, he told me he figured something drastic had happened, as he knew there was no way I'd miss something like this. Remember kids, this is pre-cell phone era, when the only text we knew was the print you'd see in a book. What's worse, Allen also told me I could have done a feature length interview, as I basically would have had Morrison all to myself. Attendance was minimal at the show, and practically no one knew, or cared, who Morrison was. Allen said he talked with him for quite a bit, and had mentioned to him to be prepared to be interviewed when I showed up. I instantly felt sick to my stomach again when he told me this, but at least this time there would be no projectile vomiting.

Fast forward 16 years, to early 2008. I'm now living in the deserts of the American Southwest, I've been a postman for over 13 years, and I rarely if ever set foot inside a comic book shop anymore, as my collecting tastes have gravitated towards trade paperbacks and original art, which are more easily purchased online. I do travel to different locations around the country to go to comic book conventions however, as I still like to meet artists and writers whose work I enjoy, and it gives me an excuse to see parts of this land I haven't explored yet. And a break from work is always a nice thing too. I haven't been back to NYC in about a year at this point, and with my father not travelling, the only time I see him is when I go there. I know there is a huge comic book show coming to NYC in April 2008, and have pretty much made up my mind that I will build a trip back home around that...and then Grant Morrison is announced as a guest, and I probably bought my plane tickets the same day I found that out.

Not everything Morrison has written has been gold to me. There have been things that I feel missed completely, things I've read that I was rather ambivalent about, and some things I didn't even bother getting or reading at all. But there have been plenty of things that have been published in the interim that have been wonderful, and eye-opening, and amazing, and the initial impact of those early stories has never been lost either. In fact, those first Doom Patrol issues, and in particular the ENTIRE Animal Man arc, have only achieved even greater esteem in my eyes over the ensuing years and re-reads. And I've been introduced to a host of artists due to their collaborating with him, particular favorites being Quitely and Duncan Fegredo.

The convention ran Friday thru Sunday, and while there were plenty of people there that I was happy to see (Neal Adams, Chris Claremont, J.M. DeMatteis, Fegredo, Rick Leonardi, Mignola, and many others), my biggest thrill was going to come from meeting Morrison. Stopping by the big booth that DC Comics had set up on the show floor of the Jacob K. Javits Convention Center (the largest convention center in NYC, which is saying something), my friend DB (from Unseen Films) and I found a signing schedule. Seeing that Morrison was due to be at the DC booth within the hour, I decided to take no chances. I inquired as to whether a line had formed for him yet, and upon hearing the answer was no, I told them there was one now. Since this was a Friday, and still very early on during the show weekend, there wasn't quite the throng of people that there could be (and WOULD be, as Saturday rolled around). By the time Morrison arrived, there was a bit of a line behind me, but not enough to force him to rush thru each person that was there. Which was good, because I wanted to talk.

By this point in time, Morrison had become something of a rock star in the comic world, with stories ABOUT him being nearly as legendary as the stories he wrote. Thankfully, this hadn't turned him into a snob, and he was extremely personable, more than willing to chat, and gave thoughtful answers to the questions I threw at him. We briefly discussed Bill Hicks, drugs, writing, ambition, and I even had the chance to tell him (in a much more concise version than this) how I'd waited 16 years to meet him. Although I can't remember for certain, I'm fairly sure he said he hoped it was worth it, in his thick Scottish brogue.

Thankfully, that wasn't the end. Since this was a 3 day show, I was going to be sure to be in his line each of the following 2 days as well. However, there was a panel centered around him fairly early on Saturday afternoon, and both DB and I wanted to be in the audience for that. There was a terrific scripted introduction (consisting entirely of Morrison quotes culled from interviews with him) read by the moderator over a slide show of images from Morrison-penned comics, as well as photos and drawings of the man. When he entered to a thunderous ovation from the packed room, he instantly threw the floor open to questions from the audience, and the remaining 45 minutes or so was him answering mostly intelligent queries from knowledgeable fans. Most of the questions I really wanted to ask I'd either already gotten to the day before, or someone at the panel asked something similar enough that I was perfectly content to just sit there and take it all in. Weeks later I was able to download an audio version of the panel from DC's own website, and I'll listen to it occasionally on the iPod while delivering letters and magazines in the mailroom of the big apartment complex on my route.

There was to be another autograph session at the DC booth later in the afternoon, but seeing how this was an extremely crowded Saturday (I believe the NYC Fire Marshal was threatening to close off parts of the convention venue if the crowds weren't better controlled), a line started forming for Morrison well in advance of the signing time. By the time I made it to the line, with more than an hour and a half to spare, it already wrapped clear around the DC booth, easily 100 people strong. DB went and saw another hour-long panel on something he was interested in, and still had time to find me on line before the signing had even begun. The line did actually move though once Morrison showed up, and this time they put a limit on the number of items to be signed, due to the volume of people. Made waiting for a little bit on Friday seem like an even better idea in hindsight.

Part of the reason for the reasonably quick movement of the line, DB and I were to discover as we got towards the front, was that for the most part, no one was bothering to talk to Morrison. Since the line snaked behind the table before it came around towards where he was seated, as soon as we cleared the partition, I was going to talk with him. As for what to talk about, well, that was decided as soon as we could see under the table from behind, where there sat a leather bag with the face of legendary British comic book writer Alan Moore apparently painted on it. As Morrison signed away for someone a half-dozen people in front of us, I asked what the deal with the bag was. He immediately turned to me and, with a big smile on his face, said something to the effect of "Someone GAVE me this! Can you believe it? What am I supposed to do with something like that?" And that started that conversation.

I should also mention that although he is a comic book rock star, he maintains the image of a fashion icon. He's what ZZ Top would describe as "a sharp dressed man", always appearing in full suit and tie, and definitely the expensive kind. He also has the same hair style as myself, that of the dome-shaved-with-a-straight-razor look (and probably for the same reasons that I do it too...).

We chatted for a bit, I got a few things signed, got to express my appreciation for his work, and repeated the process again on Sunday, when it had calmed down quite a bit as far as the crowd was concerned. I eventually made it back to Las Vegas, put the books back on the shelves, placed the artwork back in the frames and hung it back on the walls, and that was that. At the same giant comic book convention in New York in October 2010, I saw footage from a documentary about him that finally came out at the end of 2010, and I even wrote a review of it for Unseen Films this past May. But it's nice to know that I was able to meet and talk with the man, and I (as well as my body free of fast food toxins) am grateful for that.

Addendum (July 17, 2011): A Twitter-friend posted this blog about his very recent meeting with Morrison in Glasgow, Scotland. Worth reading as well. Good one, Colin!


Blog Post Soundtrack; Crunt, Alice In Chains, Nirvana (live), Elvis Costello, Primus, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Metallica (live), John Lee Hooker, Mr. Bungle, The Police, Tricky, The White Stripes (live covering Brendan Benson), Stevie Ray Vaughan (live), Mitch Hedberg, Danzig, The Doors (live), Cab Calloway, Pearl Jam (live covering Fugazi & The Talking Heads), Richard Pryor, Rollins Band, The Dropkick Murphys (live, brilliantly mixing an AC/DC cover into the middle of one of their own songs), Eric Clapton (live), Yawning Man, X, The Kinks, Spike Jones, Brant Bjork, Queens Of The Stone Age, Soundgarden, Medeski Martin & Wood (live), Bjork, (hed) pe (covering Black Sabbath), Shootyz Groove, Richard Jeni, Pink Floyd, Chuck Jones, Ike & Tina Turner, Nick Oliveri, Deep Purple (live), Clutch (live), Muddy Waters, David Bowie, Zero Mostel & Michael Hordern & Jack Gilford & Phil Silvers from A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum, Voivod, Red Hot Chili Peppers (live), Benny Goodman, Mr. Bungle, Kyuss (covering Black Sabbath), Prong, Black Flag, Slayer, Mike Patton, Jamiroquai, Audioslave, Oysterhead, Reel Big Fish, The Ramones, The Misfits (live), Minutemen, The Mars Volta, The Smiths, The Black Keys

You'd Never Guess Why I'm Writing About Seattle This Time

The hardest part about writing this blog of late is deciding which of the many unfinished travel stories I should work on. If I remember correctly, I was in the middle of telling tales about going to New York, Florida, Los Angeles, Seattle, San Jose, and had also teased that I'd gone to San Francisco right after my San Diego day trip (a travel story that might actually be, perish the thought, finished). So I shall now roll a 6-sided die to determine which of the recent journeys will be the lucky lottery winner in today's "I actually have some time and am gonna do some writing" sweepstakes...

...and just in case you think I'm kidding about this, i just went to my Simpson's Monopoly board game, pulled out a die, and rolled a 4, which means we head back to Seattle!

After talking with Frank Quitely for about 25 minutes or so in the hallway outside where his panel was going to be at the comic book convention, it came time to actually go in. The moderator came up while Quitely and I were talking outside, introduced himself, and asked if there was any way Quitely wanted this handled. I chimed in with, "Just don't ask him about the animated Superman film based on his work, because he hasn't seen it yet."

The panel itself was fairly interesting, as it was completely devoted to Quitely. This was just going to be 45 minutes or so with him sitting at a dais, along with the moderator, and a room full of people interested in hearing what an artist they admire has to say about things. After 15 or 20 minutes of interview-style questioning between Quitely and the moderator, the floor was opened to questions from the audience. Since most of what I'd really wanted to know I'd already ascertained from talking with him before, I was perfectly happy to just sit there and let other audience members step up to the microphone and fire questions away. I did get quite a good chuckle when, invariably, the second audience question was what Quitely thought about the animated Superman film...

After the panel let out, I wandered the show floor a bit to kill some time until Quitely's next signing session that evening. I got a meal at the small food court in the convention room, and wound up sharing a table and chatting with a nice young woman dressed as Batman villain Poison Ivy. A male friend of her's came over while we were eating, which wouldn't normally be worth mentioning except that he was fully dressed as another of Batman's nemeses, The Joker. Things like this aren't uncommon at events like this, but when you stop and examine it from an outside perspective, it just seems a tad bit odd...

After dinner I got on to the line for the evening Quitely signing session. Upon getting up to him, we briefly talked some more while he signed a few books he'd done the artwork for that I'd brought with me, and then I was back off to the hotel. It had been a rather productive day, but a long one, and I'd spent maybe 15 minutes in the hotel since arriving earlier that day. When I made it up to the room, I posted a couple things on Twitter about seeing Quitely, and mentioned something he'd said about a project he was contributing to for Mike Allred's Madman character. Just a few minutes later I got a reply from Allred himself on Twitter, wanting to know more about what Quitely had said. We had a brief Twitter conversation, and even in the middle of it, I found it interesting that I had managed to get to "see" another comic book creator I admire at this convention, even though this particular one was not actually in attendance. After a nice walk thru a biting wind to get some supplies from a local convenience store, I returned to the room, soaked in a nice hot tub for close to an hour, then passed out watching some TV. Party animal.

I slept in on Saturday morning, something I rarely, if ever, get to do when I'm home. Even on my days off I've always got something to do, so I tend to get up not much later than I would if I was going to work. That's what's nice about these trips. I've got things to attend during the day, and seeing as how I've been to Seattle many times before, I wasn't filled with a burning desire to wander the streets for hours beforehand. I did get up early enough to make my way to the gym at the top of the hotel, as it afforded a beautiful view of downtown Seattle on a gorgeous sunny morning. After taking pictures from up there for a while, and just standing and enjoying the view, it was time to head over to the show.

I brought a couple more books over to go see Quitely again, because A) who knows when I'll ever see him again, seeing as he lives in Scotland, and hasn't been in this country since 2002, and B) it was nice to be able to briefly converse with him a little more. I really enjoy his work, and have an even greater deal of respect for him after talking with him for the time that I did. This kind of connection is the reason I go to these events. I really enjoy meeting and talking with the people whose work I admire and enjoy, and pulling a signed book off of my shelves always sparks a nice memory of those times.

My next objective was to go see a couple more people who hadn't been there on Friday, but would be there on Saturday. Another of the artist's with a vision I appreciate is a man named David Mack. While he has done some very notable work on Marvel's Daredevil character, it his own creation, Kabuki, which really shows off his artistic abilities. While he has expanded the bounds of what would normally be allowed in terms of form and content in Daredevil, it is still a high-profile product from a high-profile company, and there is still an editorial rein. On Kabuki, it's pretty much a full-on experiment in re-inventing storytelling. Mack, who I also follow on Twitter, is someone who I always seek out when I know he's at a show that I'll be at, as he always has new and interesting things to look check out at his table. He brings an extensive amount of his originals to look thru, as well as a complete selection of books he's done, and every time I see him, there's at least one new book. He is also an incredibly personable guy, very friendly and easy to talk with, and quite generous with what he is selling. He will also do sketches at shows for very reasonable fees. But I actually had another reason for talking with him this show, and that was to ask a couple questions about his DVD, The Alchemy Of Art: David Mack. It's a great DVD, and I wanted to talk with him about it for a piece I was writing on it for Unseen Films. The DVD is well worth having if you're a fan of art at all, let alone Mack's work specifically.

More to come on this story...eventually...


Blog Post Soundtrack; The Misfits, Foo Fighters (live), Pearl Jam, Elvis Presley, Fear Factory, The Who, The Ruts, Neil Young & Pearl Jam, M.O.D., Eagles Of Death Metal, The Buzzcocks, Moloko, Aerosmith, Metallica (live), AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, Tom Jones w/The Pretenders (covering an Iggy Pop song...can you believe it?!?), Mr. Bungle (live), P.J. Harvey, Sublime, Bo Diddley, Anthrax & Public Enemy, Public Image Ltd., MC5, The Strokes, The Police (live)

It's Just A Ride; The Importance Of Bill Hicks

As I start to write this on the evening of February 26, 2011, it has been 17 years to the day since Bill Hicks died. He was such an influential comedian (although that term hardly covers what the man did) that each Feb 26 is #BillHicksDay on Twitter. I cannot possibly overstate the importance of Bill Hicks in my life. His philosophical comedy so closely matches much of my personality and feelings about life that on some level I consider him the older brother I never had. He was able to succinctly and concisely express far better than I ever could my views of the world. He and George Carlin are the only 2 people that I have ever called "heroes".

Although I had been a fan of his work from seeing him on Late Night With David Letterman many times over the years, it wasn't until some time after his death that I really was able to get more into his philosophical musings. In 1997 Rykodisc re-issued the 2 albums Hicks was able to put out while he was alive, Dangerous and Relentless, plus issued Arizona Bay, the album he was working on at the time of his death, and Rant In E-Minor, which comprised much of the newer material he'd done that wasn't going to fit into the concept of Arizona Bay. I bought all 4, and instantly dove into the mind of a kindred spirit. I have yet to emerge, and am incredibly grateful for it.

Speaking of Hicks and Letterman, I missed by ONE FUCKING DAY being at the infamous taping that marked the last time Hicks was to appear on Letterman's show. I was a frequent attendee of Letterman's tapings at NBC, having gone to 4 or 5 from 1990 thru 1993. So I was all primed and ready and had managed to get a couple of tickets to be at a show only a month into his highly touted move over to CBS. I went with my girlfriend at the time on September 30, 1993, and we had a good time. But had the tickets been for one day later, who knows how things could have been. Hicks' set that night was not earth-shattering, but it was good, and contained some interesting ideas. He only had about 5 and a half minutes, so he wasn't going to be able to delve TOO deeply into the philosophies that were vital to his act. But at least I would have been able to say I'd seen him live.

As it turns out, his set was axed from the final broadcast later that night, which led to an enraged and frustrated Hicks firing off a 39 page letter to John Lahr of The New Yorker. Lahr had been working on a profile of Hicks for the magazine anyway, and this just became an even better reason to write about him. Less than 5 months later, Hicks himself was axed from the face of the planet, as the pancreatic cancer he had recently been diagnosed with claimed his life. Thankfully, his work lives on, and continues to grow far beyond the reach he'd ever been able to achieve while alive. More and more people have looked to his work as a source of inspiration, and with the rise of the internet since his death, it's become more accessible, popular, accurate, and important. YouTube is filled with clips from Hicks on topics such as music, drugs, marketing, and the meaning of life...amongst many other topics.

One of the more interesting YouTube clips is from the night that Letterman had Mary Hicks, mother of Bill, on as a guest in late January 2009. For whatever reason, Letterman had decided that it was time to right a MAJOR wrong, and as the 15th anniversary of Hicks' death approached, he finally aired the set that had been cut. I actually have a 3 page hand-written letter I received from Mary Hicks back in 1998, when I expressed my gratitude for her son's work. She thanked me for my interest in his work; "It is heartwarming to receive such letters." I then ordered a couple of the videos that were available from the Arizona Bay Production Company that she ran, and am only now upgrading one of those to DVD (Sane Man, as it was re-released a few years ago with bonus material).

I was even able to talk about Hicks with Henry Rollins when I met him after his recent show in Los Angeles that I attended. Henry was on his short "50" tour marking the occasion of his 50th birthday, and I pointed out to him that there must have been something in the water in this country in late 1960/early 1961, as both he and Hicks were born the same year. Rollins is a great fan of Hicks as well, and even wrote some liner notes for a 2 CD & 2 DVD set called The Essential Collection. What would have been Hicks' 50th birthday will be this December 16...curious as to how that occasion will be marked.

It would be possible for me to spend far too long going on about the importance of Bill Hicks...and it still wouldn't be long enough to completely express the sentiment. I'll leave you with words that Bill often closed his shows with; "You know all that money we spend on nuclear weapons and defense every year? Trillions of dollars. Instead, if we spent that money feeding and clothing the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded...not one...we could as one race explore inner and outer space together in peace, forever."


Blog Post Soundtrack; Metallica (live), Mondo Generator, Monty Python, ZZ Top, Pearl Jam (live), Them Crooked Vultures, The Donnas, Mr. Bungle, George Carlin, The Simpsons (w/Robert Goulet), The Mars Volta, Ike & Tina Turner, The Misfits, The White Stripes (live), Deftones, Blur, Eric Clapton, The Beastie Boys, The Specials, Tricky (covering Public Enemy), David Steinberg, Tampa Bay Lightning at New York Rangers, and, of course, Bill Hicks...

Perfume & Cigarettes...And Batman, Neal Adams, And My Grandmother

Certain things are massive memory triggers for me. Smells are one of the better ones. I can be walking along somewhere, and catch a whiff of a certain perfume, and instantly be transported back to times when certain females were in my life. And regardless of how those relationships may have ended, the smell always manages to put a smile on my face. There was one particular woman who always had an interesting mix of perfume and cigarettes around her, and the intriguing aroma never failed to make me happy. Being a non-smoker as I am, that may seem odd, but her particular perfume, mixed with her cigarettes, always did a number on me.

But there are other memory stimulants as well, sight being possibly the biggest. I can look at a ticket stub from an event I went to 30 years ago and be instantly transported back to what transpired that evening, and the surrounding events as well. I can look at a book I own, or a poster or piece of artwork on my walls, that has a signature by one of the writers or artists that worked on it, and instantly be thrown back in time to the setting where I got to meet that person, and be able to remember the conversation I got to have with someone whose work I admire.

Much like Pavlov's Dogs, however, there is one specific conditioned reflex I have that happened again earlier this evening. Having gotten out of work around dusk, I was witness to the last remnants of what must have been an amazing sunset, for the few remaining cotton-candy-colored whisps of clouds only hinted at what had just been. Still, there was enough to enjoy for a bit. Driving off to do an errand before heading home, in turning east I was greeted by a very large, bright, and full moon. As wonderful as that was, it got even better when one of the cloud whisps that had been so recently rose-colored now acted as a bit of a shroud, only partially obscuring the view of the glowing ball in the sky. And this is where the conditioned response kicks in every time.

Whenever I see a full moon partially blocked by some clouds, I am instantly reminded of an incredibly iconic image of Batman. It is a full page splash from Batman issue 251, cover dated September, 1973, that features Batman sprinting across a beach at night, in pursuit of his arch-enemy The Joker. It's an issue written by a classic Batman writer, Denny O'Neil, but the artwork is by perhaps one of the greatest artists ever to grace the Dark Knight with his talents, Neal Adams. Adams is a revolutionary, a pioneer, a true visionary in the field of comic books. His work in the late 1960's thru the mid-1970's stands as some of the greatest the field has ever produced, and he was so far ahead of his time that much of that work could be published today, roughly 40 years later, and still look fresh and contemporary. His design work, his layouts, his choice of camera angles, and his flat-out drawing are all superb. In an art form that had been starting to get stagnant, his work was truly innovative, and it aspired to a higher level of quality as it turned the comic book world on its ear, and challenged it by saying "we can be better!" Living legend is NOT hyperbole in this instance.

While not old enough to know any of this at the time, I've apparently been a fan of Adams' work since long before I knew who he was. I would have been just about 2 years old when Batman 251 hit the newsstands, and while I DID start reading at an early age, no, it wasn't THAT early. How I was introduced to Adams' work however, I can remember clear as day. I don't recall the specifics of how or why this particular item was acquired, but I have a very vivid memory of standing in the kitchen of my grandmother's house while her and her daughter (my mom) opened what seemed like a half-scale paint can for me. The can was the container that held 81 pieces of a jigsaw puzzle featuring the Adams-penned image of Batman running along that beach. I had no idea of Neal Adams, or probably even comic books, at that point. I'm not even sure how old I was when they got me this puzzle, but I would venture to guess I was around 5...maybe younger. I'm sure it was bought for me because of watching cartoons with Batman, or maybe re-runs of the TV show that starred Adam West. But that's beside the point.

I do remember standing there in my grandmother's kitchen, with the 5 or 6 inch square brownish tiles with the half-inch or so of grout between each one. Since Grandma lived in the next town over from us, we would go visit her every Sunday. Sometimes Vlad (a nickname I've bestowed upon my father in the last dozen years or so...a story for another blog entry...) would go with us, sometimes not, but Mom and I would make the trip every week without fail. Frequently I would sneak off into said kitchen while the two ladies would talk, and I would open, and leave open, every bright yellow cabinet door and drawer in what can only be described as the crude beginnings of my career as a practical jokester. The image of my grandmother coming in and putting her hands on her hips in what I realize now was mock exaspiration is burned indelibly into my somewhat twisted brain, and it's the joy I derive from reactions like that which continue to inspire my pranksterish behavior today.

I anxiously awaited the conclusion of this "opening ceremony" so I could get my hands on the treasure within. It was in a tin can, and although it had a plastic lid like on a tennis ball can, there was a piece of tin that sealed the can shut underneath. It didn't have a pop-top or pull-tab, so they must have used a manual can opener to unseal the can (this was the mid-1970's, before electric can openers had been invented...apparently...), and they were both concerned that I might cut myself on a slightly jagged edge they had left. After a little bit of masking tape had been carefully applied, I was finally able to get down to the business of assembling this gem. And lo and behold, a gem it was.

Over the years, I must have assembled and disassembled that puzzle dozens of times. The can was always a fixture in my room, and every once in a while I'd pull it off the shelf and piece together the costumed detective, and just stare at the scene, wondering what had transpired to make him be in such a state. I would also analyze the position of the Caped Crusader, as the camera angle chosen featured major foreshortening, making the hand on his forward outstretched arm as big as the thigh of his corresponding rear leg that was powerfully thrusting him ahead.

It would be many years before I learned that Adams was the artist responsible for the drawing that I had put together and taken apart many times. It would be an additional many years before I actually acquired a book that reprinted the issue in question. The final volume in a beautiful 3 volume set entitled Batman Illustrated By Neal Adams didn't come out until 2005. Each hardcover contains nearly 300 pages of, well, Batman, um, illustrated by, uh, Neal Adams. Kinda self-explnatory. Over the course of the 3 books, you see his style and technique improve and evolve. As it turns out, Batman 251 was one of the very last Batman stories Adams would draw. He was probably at the peak of his talents when he produced the issue in question, and in particular, that one single, striking, image.

I have been able to meet Adams numerous times over the years at shows, but it wasn't until into the 2000's that I was REALLY able to appreciate how much of a talented artist he is. I have met him enough times in recent years that all 3 of my Batman hardcovers have been signed by him, but perhaps more importantly, I one time brought a few pieces from that very puzzle to a show that he was at, and while assembling them, told him a very abbreviated version of this story. The puzzle was assembled one final time when I returned home to Las Vegas from that New York trip, framed, and has been hanging on a wall in my home ever since.

My grandmother died in 1995, just several months before I started my career as a mailman. She never got to see me become the reasonably successful and happy person I like to think I've become, but hopefully, somewhere, she knows I think of her whenever I see a partially cloud-covered full moon.

Hi Grandma, and thanks.

Blog Post Soundtrack; Foo Fighters, David Bowie, Motörhead, Sugarcubes, Probot, Eagles Of Death Metal (live), Pearl Jam (live), Leadbelly, Metallica (live), The White Stripes (live), Deftones, The Mars Volta, Kyuss (live), Nuclear Assault, Alice In Chains (live), Public Enemy, Fu Manchu, Guns N' Roses, Tom Lehrer (live), Queens Of The Stone Age (live), The Blues Brothers, Cheryl Wheeler, Lou Reed, John Lennon, Deep Purple (live), Simon & Garfunkel, The Doors (live), The Vandals, MC5, The 5,6,7,8's, Judas Priest, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Mad Season, Tool

House Cleaning & Baseball Memories

What with working way too much last year, and the Christmas season being nuts for the post office, and then all of my time off recently involving trips somewhere (either short or long), I really have made quite a cluttered mess of my house over the last few months. I have a lot of stuff, so in order to be able to find anything, I have to know exactly where it is. A place for everything, and everything in its place, so to speak. This hasn't been the case lately, and it has bothered me to some degree. I finally have a weekend where I'm not going anywhere; not going to any hockey games, not going to any concerts, nothing involving even leaving the house since getting home from work Saturday afternoon. Aaaaahhhhhh.....

What this means is, I can finally tackle some of the "putting things away" task that I've been sorely neglecting for far too long. For example, in going thru one of many piles of books and papers, I came across all the ticket stubs from my Pacific Northwest vacation that I took with my Mom in March of 2010 (yes, that's nearly a year ago already...I told you it's been far too long since I did this...). Which reminds me, I never wrote THAT trip up on this site...something else to put in the mental rolodex for a future write-up here...

In putting the ticket stubs away in a binder that I have for just such things, I started to look thru the entire binder, which contains ticket stubs from nearly every event I've ever gone to in my life. I'm not talking about movie stubs, but concerts, sporting events, museums, things like that. And all my brain needs is that small piece of paper to trigger a whole series of memories relating to that event. One of the ones that really caught my eye last night was 2 stubs to a New York Mets baseball game from September 18, 1981. It was the second Major League Baseball game I ever went to. I was a couple months past my 10th birthday, and baseball was the biggest thing in my life. That year involved a strike that lasted nearly 2 months, which must have been devastating for me.

The biggest memories those ticket stubs bring up are the weeks of anticipation I had, knowing I was going to an actual game. Even though I lived less than a 10 minute drive from Shea Stadium, going to games just wasn't something my family did. We used to go to my grandmother's house in College Point every Sunday, and on the drive to and from our house in Whitestone, you could see Shea Stadium exactly 2 miles off to the southwest as we drove in the car along 20th Avenue. It seemed like it was an eternity away. I used to wish that Shea Stadium was at the southeast corner of 14th Avenue & 127th Street, because every time we stopped at the light at that 5 corners intersection, it just seemed like the perfect place for the park to be. And then I would be able to experience the sights and smells of the game up close and personal at least once a week. I don't remember exactly when it was official that I would be going to that game in September with my Dad, but I do remember it seemed like FOREVER until that day came...time passes so much more slowly when you're a kid.

The other thing that really struck my mind instantly upon seeing those ticket stubs was the feeling I got when I first walked thru the tunnel out to the field level seating area, and the way I felt when I first was able to lay my eyes on a field of grass that was the greenest green I had ever seen. I'd been watching games on TV for several years at that point already, despite my young age. I was more of a Yankees fan than a Mets fan, but I still rooted for the Mets, and watched every telecast I could. This was back in the days when almost every game would have been on a local non-cable channel (WPIX Channel 11 for the Yankees, and WWOR Channel 9 for the Mets). Those announcers for both teams became like friends for me, seeing as I got to listen to them for endless hours during my childhood years. Phil Rizzuto, Bill White, and Frank Messer for the Yankees, and Ralph Kiner and Bob Murphy for the Mets were voices I heard probably more often than my parents when I was growing up.

However, watching games on TV did nothing to prepare me for actually walking into the seating area and seeing the field laid out before me. I'd been playing little league baseball for a while by this time, and hanging out in local parks playing games, so I was used to dirty and dusty fields, which had grass that seemed fine to me. But it paled in comparison to the vast field of lushness that greeted my eyes. I had been to a Yankee game 3 years earlier (my 7th birthday, matter of fact), but that had been a day game. This game had an 8:05PM start time, so seeing the glow of the artificial lights illuminate the pristine playing surface laid out before me was truly breathtaking. Again, picture this thru the eyes of a baseball-enamored 10 year old boy; I'd pretty much gone to heaven.

I don't really remember anything about the game itself, but that's not the point. The memories I do have from that night and the experience in general are ones that I will treasure forever, and no matter what picture I try to find online of Shea Stadium, nothing will compare with the images on the mental projector that are sparked by those 2 ticket stubs.

Thanks, Dad.


Blog Post Soundtrack; Led Zeppelin, Liz Phair, Black Flag, Traditional Japanese, Refused, AC/DC, The Misfits (live covering Black Flag), Fu Manchu, Pearl Jam (live), Paul Simon, ZZ Top, Nirvana, Monty Python, Deftones, Pantera, The Chenical Brothers, Skeleton Key, Helmet, Desert Sessions, Mr. Bungle, Queens Of The Stone Age (live), Primus (live), Eric Burdon & War

Henry Rollins & Thanks

Taking a quick detour from the travel journal that my blog seems to have turned into lately, I just wanted to give a couple quick thank yous to certain people. I've been doing domestic chores all morning (yardwork, laundry, etc.), and I've had Henry Rollins 2CD set Spoken Word Guy playing on my oversized headphones all the while. I purchased this CD set at a show he did here in Las Vegas some months ago, and was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to meet him afterwards. It was nice to chat with him for a few minutes, seeing as how he has entertained me in one form or another for about 20 years now, either as the singer for Black Flag, the singer of his own Rollins Band, or as the Spoken Word Guy as suggested by the CD title. I don't think I've ever mentioned on this blog what a tremendous source of entertainment Rollins is, as well as one of inspiration. He is due to turn 50 years old in exactly 2 weeks, so an early Happy Birthday wish to him, and thanks again for entertaining and broadening my mind.

The other bit of thanks is due apparently to the many people around the world who seem to have read one entry or another on this blog. According to the stats provided by Blogger, I've had many people from many countries reading much of my work, which I find fascinating and humbling. I never would have thought that anything I would have to say would be of interest to anyone other than myself. I basically am writing this as some sort of document of my own existence, just to kind of remind myself of some interesting things that have happened to me. I write because I enjoy doing it, and I enjoy reliving many of my experiences. I've shown certain pieces to friends and family because they would be of particular interest to them, but I never would have imagined that there would be any sort of interest shown beyond that on any scale. So the fact that I've got people in (in alphabetical order) Argentina, Australia, Austria, Barbados, Belarus, Belgium, Belize, Brazil, Bulgaria, Canada, Chile, China, Colombia, Costa Rica, Croatia, Czech Republic, Denmark, The Dominican Republic, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Georgia, Greece, Guatemala, Guyana, Hong Kong, Hungary, Iceland, India, Indonesia, Iran, Ireland, Israel, Italy, Japan, Kenya, Kuwait, Latvia, Lebanon, Malaysia, Malta, Mexico, Morocco, Nepal, The Netherlands, New Zealand, Nigeria, Norway, Oman, Pakistan, Panama, Peru, The Philippines, Poland, Portugal, Puerto Rico, Qatar, Romania, Russia, Saudi Arabia, Serbia, Singapore, Slovakia, Slovenia, South Africa, South Korea, Spain, Sri Lanka, Sudan, Sweden, Switzerland, Taiwan, Thailand, Trinidad and Tobago, Tunisia, Turkey, The Ukraine, United Arab Emirates, The United Kingdom (hi Maggie!), Uruguay, Venezuela, Vietnam, as well as here in the United States, and probably other countries as well, actually bothering to check my stuff out is rather mind blowing. But I appreciate all of you who have stopped by, and I hope I can continue to put things up that will be of interest to you all.

Coming soon, Florida Part IV (dinner with Mike Zeck will be discussed), New York City Part IV (The Museum Of Natural History and Central Park), and I will eventually post some more of my writing for Unseen Films over here as well the next time I find myself with not enough time to write a fresh entry. Thanks again everyone, and Happy 50th Henry!


Blog Post Soundtrack; Pearl Jam (live), Cage The Elephant, The Beatles, Refused, Deftones (live), No Doubt, Primus

Random Twitter Thoughts

I happened to come up with a couple of fairly clever lines the other day (yes, I am impressed by my own cleverness...), which I put on Twitter. As it happened, Eddie Izzard was playing a gig in St. Albans in the UK the same day, and he always announces when his Twitter page goes live on a screen in whatever venue he's in that night. That means the audience in that theatre can see all messages that are sent @eddieizzard, which normally only Izzard himself can see. I happened to catch him putting his screen live in time to post my witticisms from that morning...

"I caught 20 minutes of a documentary on Hunter S. Thompson this morning. Feeling Gonzo today. Rest of Muppets are jealous or horrified."

"If the distress signals on your car work intermittently, does that mean you have haphazard lights?"

Thank you, I'll be here all week, try the veal, don't forget to tip your waitstaff.

I also posted something three days earlier about Chuck Jones, director of most of the Road Runner/Wile E. Coyote cartoons, and most of the really good Bugs Bunny & Daffy Duck cartoons, plus some good Tom & Jerry's in the late 1960's...oh, I could go on...

Anyway, I posted "Chuck Jones 98th Birthday today...very cool, will watch some Wile E. Coyote (Super Genius...) cartoons in his honor tonight :)", which somehow got noticed and re-tweeted by comedian/actor/internet talk show host Kevin Pollak, who quoted my original tweet preceeded by "Yessss!" I was kinda flattered, considering he has almost 180,000 followers on Twitter...and many of them re-tweeted his re-tweeting of my comment...kinda like those Russian dolls that stack inside one another.

One of the people who saw Pollak's mention of my tweet was Jessica Kausen, and while that may not sound like much to you, she is the great-granddaughter of Chuck Jones! And she is apparently living in Astoria, Queens (a borough of New York City, just east of Manhattan), which is just a few minutes from where I grew up in Whitestone, Queens. Small world.

Pollak and I weren't done though. Just a few days later, I saw him mention being in Las Vegas. I tweeted at him, asking if he was really coming to Vegas to perform soon, and his public reply in a re-tweeting of my question was; "Next weekend at The Palms. Be there or fuck you. Ya know...?" I am now wearing that proudly as a badge of honor...

I also had a recent blog post of mine at Unseen Films get noticed by DeathStarPR, a humorous Twitter account that poses as the Public Relations firm of the Galactic Empire from the Star Wars films. Silly stuff like that is one of the reasons I'm on Twitter.

To close out the Random Thoughts theme, I give you a recent entry I wrote for Unseen Films on Ross Noble's immense DVD package, Randomist;


Most likely, Ross Noble has some terrifically funny material. Odds are, he's got some hilarious gags that would have you laughing until your sides hurt. Unfortunately, he never gets to it. Fortunately, what takes place on stage instead of prepared material is proof of why Noble may be one of the most brilliant comic minds in the world. There is a reason this 4 DVD set is entitled "Randomist". It isn't about running thru a set, it's about what's running thru his mind.

Noble seems to have acquired a version of Attention Deficit Disorder that allows him to articulate on whatever it is that has captured his fancy in such a funny way that you don't want him to ever be cured. For starters, if you're at all self-conscious and are going to one of his shows, whatever you do, don't show up late. He notices the latecomers, is distracted by them, and they become fodder for jokes for anywhere from a couple of lines to a running gag throughout the entire evening. And if you yourself suffer from ADD, this may not be the disc for you. Because Noble runs completely on stream-of-consciousness, you really have to watch the entire DVD straight thru in one sitting. Pausing or stopping to go out and do something else and then resuming the show later is practically not an option with this. It's the type of comedy that builds on itself, and gets funnier as it steamrolls along, and interrupting that flow of momentum will lead to a train wreck of monumental proportions. And you'll be really lost when you start the DVD back up again.

Stalking back and forth across the stage in his track-suit outfit like an overly-caffinated athlete warming up for a sprint around the globe, Noble only seems to approach something resembling material when he's reminded of a story he wants to share. But he's only telling the story because something the audience did or said remined him of it, not because he went on stage with the express intent of telling that particular story. Watching him at work is fascinating, following him from one tangent to another, and seeing him weave them together like some sort of psychedelic tapestry. Which brings up another interesting point; he's completely clean. Noble does not do drugs of any kind, which makes you really wonder about his brain all the more.

Due to not taking any drugs, his mental rolodex is in perfect working condition. This is extremely vital to his performing style, because Noble often distracts himself. In the middle of discussing one story, he's reminded of something else, and wanders off down that road. All is not lost however, as he does...eventually...return to the story he was originally telling. He is aware of whatever unfinished-story business he has going, and manages to wrap them all up in a race against time (and the closing of the nearby car-park). It almost comes across like a suspense film, as both the live audience, and the DVD watchers, move closer to the edges of their seats, wondering if he'll ever finish the story about the radio interview...

Noble may also be the most physically active comedian ever. There's a reason he wears a track suit at gigs, for he's constantly moving around the stage, even pacing when just telling a story. When he adds physical comedy into the mix, he's sometimes flat-out running. It's almost as if his body is trying to keep up with his mind. You'll be worn out too if you get this DVD set (his 3rd offering on DVD), as the 4 discs contain something close to 9 hours of material. The main show alone, filmed in Newcastle, England in December 2005, is 2 & 1/2 hours long. Then there are other shows included from the year long tour, commentary tracks from Noble on each show, separate documentary films for both the Scottish and Australian legs of the tour, plus another hidden show that can only be accessed by correctly answering a quiz based on having watched the contents of the DVD package. It's well worth getting a copy of this box set, as the laughs, and the massive quantity of them, will have you hunting down more DVD's from Noble. And you'll learn the proper way to tuck in an owl.


Blog Post Soundtrack; Slayer, Mr. Bungle, The White Stripes, The Who, Jimi Hendrix, The Doors (live), Hello, ZZ Top, Artie Shaw, Judas Priest (live), Eric Clapton, Huevos Rancheros, John Lee Hooker, Lou Rawls, Sam & Dave, Pearl Jam, Alice In Chains, Henny Youngman, Blondie

Björk

I've had a rare Saturday off, and I've spent it exercising, playing video games, and spending far too much time at the computer (I have actually accomplished a few things though, and it's my time off dammit, I'll do what I want!). Been listening to music on the computer for several hours now (according to the Last Played list on iTunes), giving me some idea of how long I've been physically inactive...and explaining why I'm getting hungry...

But when a Björk track came on shuffle on iTunes, I decided to go to YouTube and look for a couple videos of hers, in particular the video for Big Time Sensuality. It was a track off of her first post-Sugarcubes solo effort entitled Debut, from 1993. A remix was used for the video version, which I always thought was far superior to the album version of the song. As for the video itself, it is fascinating in its simplicity. The entire 5 minute piece consists of her bounding around in full Björk-ness on the back of a flatbed truck, slowly meandering thru the streets of Manhattan. That's it. And yet, despite the minimalist approach, it is truly compelling to watch. Shot in black & white to boot (really driving home the bare bones approach), it's almost as interesting (to me) to watch the surroundings as it is to watch her. I'm always looking at it trying to figure out exactly which intersection of NYC they're going thru...or wondering what the people on the nearby bus were thinking as this big truck passed by, with this wacky female with the goofy hairstyle jumping around like some spastic idiot on the back. I also think how much I would have LOVED to have been one of the passerby on the street; I probably would've been arrested as I proceeded to follow the truck up and down the streets on its destinationless journey...

I have always thought she is an incredibly beautiful human being. I find her an irresistably attractive woman, even with her goofy golf-ball-knot hairstyle she used in that video (and she wore frequently in that Debut album era), although one of the most attractive pictures I ever saw of her graced the cover of Time Out New York back when Dancer In The Dark came out. Her one and only film, there are legendary stories of her fighting with director Lars von Trier that made her swear off ever making another, despite her winning the Best Actress award at the Cannes Film Festival. There's just something about that chin down, knowing smile, eyebrow raised, only one eye visible thru her flowing hair look that completely overpowers me. There aren't many women on the planet I'd be willing to kill for, but at that moment, she'd have been one...

(Completely coincidentally, it marks 10 years ago this week that Dancer In The Dark showed at the New York Film Festival. Dbborroughs is attending this year's NYFF right now as a member of the press, due to his dogged persistence with his site Unseen Films, which I am an occasional contributor to, and also editor of. Db tends to write very stream-of-consciousness, meaning punctuation is not his friend. I pretty much just go over each piece, put in commas, periods, and things of that nature, and make it easier for the average person to digest, so that his opinion of the film in question is what is noticed, not any missing punctuation or incorrect grammar. I think I'll have to write an entry for Dancer in the future for Unseen.)

My biggest Björk phase came in the late 1990's and early 2000's. Homogenic, her third post-Sugarcubes solo effort, came out in 1997, and to this day I still consider it to be a near-perfect album. Start to finish, every track is some level of wonderful, amazing, fantastic, and other superlatives I just can't come up with at the moment. It was a real turning point for her as well, because while Debut was comprised of songs she had written while in the Sugarcubes, and Post (her second post-Sugarcubes effort) was written sort of as a reaction to that, Homogenic was the first album she wrote as a completely clean slate. She felt her true musical direction was just starting with that era. It was radically different from anything she had ever done before...and indeed anything ANYONE had ever done before. The bizarre marriage of melodic and soft strings with thundering, throbbing, pulsing beats, combined with her beautiful but incredibly strong and emotive voice, made for a stunning album that I still find compelling today. I don't often listen to albums straight thru anymore, what with iPods and iPhones and iTunes always being in shuffle mode, but often when a track from that comes on, I'll switch over to hear some, if not all, of Homogenic.

And it didn't end there. Many artists, for European and Japanese releases, produce extra tracks that don't accompany the North American releases of their albums. Björk had put out enough b-side material for her first 3 albums to make 3 MORE albums. And the stuff for Homogenic was all incredible. There was a James Bond theme cover, You Only Live Twice, that was supposed to be released on a star-studded compilation album of Bond theme covers...only she pulled hers at the last minute, apparently because she felt it just wasn't good enough, or not as good as the Nancy Sinatra original, of which she is a big fan. As many artists are wont to be, she was being too hard on herself, because it's a beautiful rendition of a terrific song...and I'm not a fan of the Bond films. It was recorded in the Homogenic era, so I've always lumped it in with that, even though it wasn't "officially" done for that.

Another incredible Homogenic b-side song is So Broken, which is just her accompanied by 2 Flamenco guitarists...truly wonderful, and the live piece I've linked to is testament to her talent as well as just how great a piece of music it is.

There are other b-sides that range from whimsical (Scary) to angry (Sod Off) to gut-wrenching (her live cover of Gloomy Sunday), but the track that has the most meaning for me is back on the actual album. The final song on Homogenic, All Is Full Of Love, was remixed many times, including for the video...and all are vastly INFERIOR to the version that was put on the album. The album version (itself a remix by Howie B, which I can't seem to find a link to...) has a soothing, hypnotic quality to it that relaxes you to a point of being capable of opening up and seeing the beauty of the world around you. I have very vivid memories of specific wonderful moments that happened to me as this song was playing. One involved walking in a gentle rain shower on a warm summer day while delivering a route in a beautiful tree lined area of Long Island, New York, and the other happened as I was driving thru the plains of southern Quebec on my way to Montreal, and saw a rainbow off to one side. Both times, due to taking in the lyrics, the gentleness of the song, and the beauty of the moment I was in, made me realize how wonderful life could be, if you just let it.

On a related note, for some reason, most, if not all, of the women who have ever been in my life have had an extreme dislike of Björk. I've never really understood why...


Blog Post Soundtrack; Björk (...duh...), John Frusciante, Blondie, Scatterbrain, The Slits, Pearl Jam (live), The Beastie Boys, The Waitresses, Alice In Chains, The Chemical Brothers, Santana, The White Stripes, Colonel Claypool's Bucket Of Bernie Brains, Testament, The Misfits, Social Distortion (covering a Bo Diddley track), The Ramones, Joe Walsh, and most of the Homogenic album by Björk

Mental Projector

It's been a while, but I finally changed the picture at the top of this blog to another of my many travel shots. This one I haven't even posted on Panoramio (yet...), but I realized it would work well for the look of the blog. It was taken back in January of 2009 on my Southern Utah/Northern Arizona driving vacation that encompassed me seeing things like the magnificent Horseshoe Bend, a 180 degree turn of the Colorado River near Page, Arizona. The river has cut thru the earth at such an angle that as it makes it's turn at this point, it resembles a horseshoe (when viewed from above). It has also eroded the earth to a point that the surrounding cliffs are roughly 1,000 feet high, making for quite a spectacular view when you are standing there in person. As with many things in life, while there are nice pictures of it, no mere photograph can truly do it justice. I felt a true sense of awe standing there gazing over the chasm...every once in a while you are slapped in the face with your true insignificance, yet at the same time you are left marvelling at the beauty that surrounds you.

The picture at the top of the blog, however, was taken near the southern entrance of Zion National Park, just a little bit north of the "sleepy little resort town" (one is required to describe places of this nature with that phrase) of Springdale, Utah. Traversing along a winding path called Floor Of The Valley Road, you are surrounded by beautiful outcroppings of rock, and when the sun hits them just right, they look even more amazing. I purposely did this trip in January, because I figured it would look even more beautiful with a decent amount of snow around. It was also nice to quite often be pretty much the only person around for miles. Having grown up in New York, I'm not afraid of a little inclement weather, but as you can see, really all Mother Nature did was enhance some of it's beauty.

Bryce Canyon National Park was another portion of this journey, and again, there were plenty of moments when I put the camera down and just stood there soaking in the imagery with nothing but my eyes, and my soul. It's possible to get lost behind a lens and just click away and not entirely enjoy the experience of being where you are; I try not to let that happen. And with places like this, you really can't. The pictures are nice, but every time I look at them, they mainly serve as a spark for the mental photographs I have which are far more breathtaking. A truly stunning place, which will definitely be visited again before I'm finished on this plane of existence.



Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park was the other main destination on this extensive driving trip. Located in the northeast corner of Artizona, you actually enter the park from the southern portion of Utah. If you've ever seen a Western film directed by John Ford, you've seen part of Monument Valley. And the picture to the left is the typical image of the area, but there is so much more to it than that...not that it isn't stunning in it's own right. Another truly jaw-dropping experience, seeing these incredible rock formations reminds you of just how small your place in the universe really is. There is a 17 mile dirt road that loops thru the area, and you can't drive too fast on it...but why would you want to? These destinations are in the middle of nowhere, and it takes lots of driving time to get there, so since all this time has already been invested, you make damn sure to leisurely meander around, absorbing the natural beauty that encompasses your field of vision. I had truly beautiful weather the day I was there, and got some amazing pictures, but still the best ones play on the projector in my head...


Blog Post Soundtrack; Alice In Chains, Louis Prima, Pink Floyd (live), Joy Division, Medeski Martin & Wood, International Noise Conspiracy, Motorhead, Bjork (live), Louis Jordan, Fear Factory, Smashing Pumpkins, Pearl Jam (live), Samhain, Chemical Brothers, Primus, Misfits (live), Mr. Bungle, Rolling Stones, Dead Milkmen (live)...(and yes, I see the irony in that), Tomoyasu Hotei