Concert Review, I Guess

I generally try to stick to comedy here and post the more serious stuff on my technical blog. But occasionally I'll write something that's neither work nor comedy, and I have to put it somewhere (in addition to my Super Secret Diary And Psychotic Serial Killer Diatribes Notebook). So here's this.

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I enjoyed the hell out of the Joe Satriani concert at the Fox Theater in Oakland last night. It's the first concert I've been to in years, if not decades; I generally think concerts are too overpriced and overcrowded to be worth the hassle. I learned some interesting tidbits at the show (beside the obvious bit about Satriani being pretty damn magical, but that wasn't anything new):

- Living Colour rocks: There was a warmup band that I didn't think much about before they started playing; then I realized that I knew this band. Living Colour rose to fame in the last 80s with a couple of hits and an interesting blend of musical styles, including straightforward metal rock. Blending this with amazing vocals and great instrumentals makes for good songs. I lost touch with them in the early 90s, and they disbanded sometime in there. Apparently they reunited some time ago and, also apparently, still have it. Their lead singer covers a broad spectrum from metal-friendly screaming to funk to gospel-like riffs (sometimes all in one song). The guitarist was a monster, totally in keeping with the speed-metal theme for the night and the bassist and drummer held their own as well, with the bass player playing an entire song on his own in the upper registers, reminding me of some of the Bend Folds Five use of bass-as-guitar songs.
And the best part: They were all dressed totally low key. I don't know that I've ever gone to a rock concert where the lead singer was wearing a tweed beret, jeans, and a sweater vest.
They're my new [old] favorite rock band to go research. And totally appropriate for my habit of not getting into a band until decades after everyone else gave up on them (I'm a bit slow on the uptake, sorry. I'm still heavily into Floyd and Gabriel-era-Genesis...).

- Satriani: 'nuff said.

- Satriani, like any musician of his caliber, hires amazing musicians for his tour. Better yet, he features them in a way that someone like him needn't. You'd think with the eponymously -named band that it would be all about him, but every member of the band has his part to play. For example:

- Mike Keneally: The second guitarist and keyboardist for Satriani was amazing on both instruments. For the most part, his guitar parts were rhythm, but he'd come forward and take the lead occasionally, including trading fours and eights with Satriani in a couple of tunes. Amazing to play that well on one instrument, jaw-dropping to see him also play the keyboard as well as he did.

- Macro Minnemann: The drummer was simply amazing. I've played with some very good drummers and have always thought that a master of that instrument was more fun to watch than any other musician because drumming is a full-body contact sport. When someone's playing a large kit with all four appendages rapid-firing every which way in perfect time, it's a joy to behold. And he had it in spades. At one point, the band took a break (as bands do), except them left him there to play a 10 minute solo. I've heard a lot of drum solos over the years, and generally you're ready for them to be over quickly. But a good drummer can make a song out of anything, and he did.

Anyway, that's probably enough gushing for now. I have to go - I have some new music to stream.

When I am King: Shop Till You Drop Dead

When I am King...

Zombie movies will be easier to make.

There's a recurring theme of zombies in pop culture. There are movies every year about them, songs about their zany flesh-eating antics, and a firm idea in the collective consciousness about these endearing flesh-eating creatures. The story is always roughly the same; some disease ravaged our society and somehow produced creatures that have a hankering for human flesh. They're basically like us, but with less of a hangup about cannibalism and slightly worse personal hygiene.

I believe that popular entertainment is a reflection of our fantasies and fears. We fantasize about wielding chainsaws and massacring hordes of people, while we fear another high school musical sequel.

So what is it about zombies that captures the public imagination? Is it their listless look as they stumble through life like a teenager in math class? Is it the shy and retiring way that they feast on brains? Or is it just that they provide more interesting target practice than cans and the neighbor's cat?

I would argue that zombies are real, and that these movies are actually documenting an important social phenomenon that we are all trying to understand.

I see zombies every time I go shopping in Costco.

I was shopping last weekend, noticing that everyone around me was slowly shuffling along, pushing their cart. They looked slowly around the shelves with dull, confused eyes. They grabbed flats of cookies and gallon jugs of mayonnaise. And they kept moving forward in their ambling gate, lurching from one foot to the other in an effort to just keep shopping. They didn't notice me or any of the other undead in the store. Carts bumped, feet were rolled over, and nobody noticed. They all just kept moving along on their zombie shopping excursion.

The only thing missing from the scene was blood-smeared bodies and the smacks of zombie feasting. Then I passed the food court of the store and got that too; faces covered in ketchup and fudge sauce completed the experience.

When I am King, zombie movies won't use actors and far-fetched stories to explain the undead. Instead, filmmakers will just take their cameras to these stores and roll film. A few screams to enhance the soundtrack and they'll be done. This will free up the movie industry to put more effort into other fictional masterpieces, like more high school musical sequels.

AboutFaceBook

I'm about to say something that I'll probably regret, but I'm okay with that. It can just join the host of other regrettable things I've said. They can keep each other company. Maybe if I say enough stupid things, none in particular will stand out from the crowd and I can just get by. Presidents have been elected on less than this. And then re-elected because we didn't want to admit we made such a colossal mistake the first time around.

I Hate FaceBook

I know, it's probably the hippest place to be for people that can't get up the energy to actually go anywhere in the physical world. And posting there is probably the most popular thing to do since picking your nose was invented. But I hate it.

Every time I log on, I look at all the crap on my page about what all these other people are doing and I simply don't care. I don't care where you went to lunch. I don't care that you're flushing the john. And I certainly don't care that the weather is either nice or sucky where you happen to be.

I know it's old-fashioned, but when I want to know what a friend is up to, I'll actually ask them. I'm not saying I'd pick up the phone and call them; that's a bit too 1950's even for me. But I'll sure shoot them an email or an IM. Now maybe someone posting that information on FaceBook makes it less work for me, but that assumes I actually wanted to know what they had to tell me. And that I can wade through the rest of the junk on the page to figure it out.

I feel like the grumpy old man on the court, yelling at the neighborhood kids to get off his lawn.
But dangit, it's my lawn and I don't want your dang graffiti and tomfoolery messin' it up. Now git!

Hmph.

When I am King: Grave Concern

When I am King...

It's time for the Big Questions.

Why were we put here? What purpose does it serve the universe? What are we supposed to be doing on the planet before our untimely demise? And what's for dinner tonight, anyway?

I believe I have, after long observation, deeply vapid thought, and plenty of booze, figured it out.

Worry.

That's right – we're just supposed to stress out for our entire existence until we kick it.

I'll qualify this: children don't need to worry. It's their job to make us worry instead. But the rest of us had better get worrying because there's no time to lose. Hurry up!

It's obvious if you look at our lives. After that initial period of carefree youth, we enter puberty with a dull wet thud and begin to worry about what others think of us (they hate us) and what we look like (it's not good). Then as we continue on in our education, we worry about passing our classes and whether people like us. We finally hit the workplace, where we worry about finding and then keeping a job.

Meanwhile, we start worrying about finding a mate.

Finally, after a few years of concentrated worrying about life and work, maybe things start to settle down. We're confident about our job (although we worry that we should be paid more). We might have found a mate (although we worry that they'll leave us). We do find other things to worry about instead, like money, our health, a home, our parents, our looks, whether people like us, television writers strikes, or even trivial things like war, famine, and the destruction of the entire planet's ecosystem. But for the most part, we worry less than we did.

Then we have kids and it starts all over again. Only this time we get our own worries plus those of our children: school progress, intelligence, activities, happiness, juvenile arrest records, health, and whether other kids like them.

This amplified level of worry sticks with us through the bitter end as we pick up other concerns, such as getting laid off, aging and falling apart like that piece of birthday cake forgotten on top of the fridge last June, getting stuck in a home by our thankless children, and whether people like us.

I've heard that some people say that life is too short to worry. But they're completely missing the point: life is all about worry. Take away the stress and what do we have left of our lives except a bunch of people that don't like us?

When I am King, I'll make sure that people have fulfilling lives by giving them constant things to worry about. The economy, the environment, the quality of Hollywood movies, the exact arrangement of foods on the FDA food pyramid; these are just a few of the things that could be toyed with to ensure that everyone has a full plate of stress, always.

But I feel I could do so much more to help; it worries me.

Holidazed

I love this festive time of year, from Thanksgiving through New Years. It's the one set of holidays that celebrates what Americans do best: Eat.

Also, it's the time of year when I reap the benefits of having never put away the Christmas decorations last year. Around July I may have looked the fool, but I'm sittin' pretty this month while my neighbors have toiled away their weekends stringing lights around their gutters and staking Santas to their roofs.

Honestly, I don't get the whole concept around decorating the house. Why add another weekend chore whose one guaranteed result is to add the reverse chore to your list in another month? That's like handing markers to a three year old standing in front of a clean, white wall; you're just inviting more work.

Far better to just skip the decorations the first time around. Sure. you may have the only dark house on the street, depressing and lonely looking when you come home in the evenings. Sure, you'll have to say "No" to the kids when they beg you to liven up the black hole of holiday despair. But that's just good practice for when they ask for a new game console or textbooks for school.

Of course, you may be worried about your standing in the neighborhood.

There are easy ways to avoid the social stigma associated with having the creepy house on the block. Tell your neighbors that you've converted to some religion that doesn't celebrate any holidays. Or tell people that you're allergic to lights and fake icicles. Or if you really want the subject closed, tell them your spouse died and you're in mourning. (This last one may require a bit of effort to make sure that your spouse stays hidden. Forever. But the firm way that it shuts down the nagging will be worth it).

You can also tell people that you're concered about global warming and that you're saving the planet one LED bulb at a time. Then get back to watching the game on your big screen plasma display, which you'll have plenty of time for since you didn't have to waste your weekends decorating the house.

Bad News

I saw a great headline on CNN a couple of days ago:

Michael Vick arraigned on Federal Convection
Does this mean that he's going to cook for his crime? Or that they're just going to grill him about it?

A few minutes later, there was another good CNN headline:

Univ. of Wisconsin Resumes Classes when Suspicious Man Not Found
I had to wonder: Is this a daily occurrence there? Does the school have a comprehensive safety plan depending on all things that don't happen?

I can imagine other, similarly gripping news stories, like:

• Woman Eats Rest of Dinner when Rat Not Detected in Pasta Sauce
• New York City Returns to Work after Sewers Finish Not Exploding
• War Ends when Weapons of Mass Destruction Not Detected

Maybe the headline writers have just been watching too much What's News.

Label Babble

I was happy to see recently that my views on warning labels are being taken seriously.

I was on an airplane and the snack was a bag of Honey Roasted Peanuts. The package had, in fine print, the following warning:

Produced in a facility that processes peanuts and other nuts

Man, was I happy to see that. Can you imagine what would have happened if someone with peanut allergies actually tried to eat those peanuts without realizing the danger?

Good job, American legal establishment!

Day of the Rat

What tragic human characteristic is it that compells some people to brave danger, to jump onto the grenade to protect the battalion, to take on armies of alien invaders armed only with a toothpick and a witty rejoinder?

I made the dubious decision of taking the family to Disneyland last week, to spend some quality time with my wife and kids and five million of our closest friends. Like many soldiers, I was fortunate enough to survive the onslaught, but I will bear the emotional scars for life.

The horror began with the traffic dance just getting to our parking place, followed by the many lines we stood in until we finally got into the park. After 50 years, I am sure that the minions of the Rat could figure out how to optimize this and make things flow more smoothly, so I can only suppose that this preliminary torture is done on purpose to either heighten the anticipation or train us for what's to come. After all, soldiers do not simply go running into battle wielding a gun for the first time; there has to be some kind of Boot Camp to prepare them. Numbing us to the pain of waiting in long lines and strengthening our bladders proved essential in the day to come.

The next point of pain came with the admission prices. I am someone who still balks at the prices of a movie and looks back nostalgically to the costs years ago when I worked as an usher in a movie theater (and thus got in for free). So the idea of paying $63 for any activity that lasts only for the day is mental and financial torture. Add on the ticket costs of the rest of the family (all of whom selfishly insisted on getting into the park as well) and the pain was excruciating.

Of course, that one single ticket price gets you into rides throughout the day. Being a math guy, I calculated how far that ticket price went in terms of rides and minutes. I figure that $63 is distributed evenly among all of the rides I waited to get on yesterday, bringing the per-ride and per-minute cost way down to, let's see ... $63. For each of us.

My wife pointed out that it's not the rides per-se that you are paying for at the park; it's the experience. The experience of spending all day in lines with huge crowds, apparently.

As ever, I am an optimist and I figure it's not a total loss. When the kids ask to go again sometime, or ask for anything else at all, I'll remind them that we went to Disneyland that Christmas in 2006 and that memory will have to do. I plan to get mileage out of this for decades.

Pluto Tossed on his Asteroid

Pluto Tossed on his Asteroid

Chet Haase, 8/24/06 Scientists today decided that Pluto is no longer a planet. After billions of years of galactic harmony, this distant rock was summarily chucked out of our solar system. Our star reporter caught up with Earth and talked with her about the situation. "We've had good times over the millenia, there's no deyning it," said the mother planet. "I mean, it all started with the Big Bang, and that was just heavenly. "But the relationship was getting old and it was time to call it quits. There were a few ongoing issues that I just got tired of dealing with, and it didn't look like they were going to change anytime soon. For one thing, Pluto's, well, small. And that's not always a bad thing. But sometimes size matters, and this was one of those times. Also, his orbit's a bit, well, irregular. Frankly, he's a bit elliptical. I just kept running circles around him. "But the final straw was that Pluto is just too cold and distant for me. I'd even call him frigid. And I'm not talking brisk; we're measuring his temperature in Kelvin. The cold intellectual thing is fun occasionally, but eventually I get tired of always having to break the ice.

"So it's over. We're still good friends, of course. And we still run in the same circles so we'll pass each other by now and then. But it's a done deal in my book." When asked what the future was, Earth smiled and turned starry-eyed. "After this long plutonic relationship, I think I'm ready for something new. I've had my eye on Mercury for a while, although he might be a bit too hot for me. I wouldn't even mind playing around on the wild side; I have a call into Venus to see where she's at this time of year." Meanwhile, Pluto wasn't as happy with the new arrangement. He was asked how he felt about his new classification as a 'dwarf planet': "'Planet of small stature,' please. And I don't think size matters a bit. I can't point fingers, but Earth's a bit tilted on her axis. For one thing, we didn't have an exclusive thing; I've been going around with lots of planets for years. "As far as my irregular orbit, that's a personal matter between me and my astrophysician. We can't tell what the future holds for this couple, but for now it seems that Pluto is lost in space.

Copyright 2006, Chet Haase. All Rights
Reserved.