Triple Cobra

I came close to skipping today's in-store at Waterloo with San Francisco band Triple Cobra. I had never heard of them, and the temperatures around here give me a feeling of reverse cabin fever, not wanting to leave the house betweeen the hours of 10 AM and 8 PM.
I am so glad I went. This is a rock band that understands that music can be a show. With theatrics, costume changes, bubble machines, choreography, and a lusty vibe, they had it all.
Between the girls in the outrageous costumes, and the charisma of the lead singer, there is a lot to watch, but the music doesn't take a back seat to the visuals. It took me a while to figure out who they reminded of, but once it hit me, it was obvious: Freddie Murcury and Queen. Glam Rock with heavier drums.

The singer has a great rock voice, with hints that he has some formal training in his background.
This first picture is him standing, really balancing, on the rail of the stage during a guitar solo. Never seen anybody try that before.

They were more than backup singers. They were dancers, and even sang co-lead on a song or two. If I heard correctly, they are sisters, and the one on the left designs and makes the outfits.

Costume change in between songs. Awesome.

Triple Cobra is on a tour promoting an album released in 2006, which is not real polished. They've got new material, and are waiting to get signed by a label so they can record again. With the right producer, they could probably make a great album.

Bubble machines for the last song, "It's Still Not Too Late for Us to Die Young."
This show was so much fun, I couldn't get the smile off my face.

Rock on.

Peace,

JS4

Before There Was Hope

On 44th Street, there is a rental house that Carrie and I pass by when we are walking Beau, or coming home off Guadalupe. In 2005, we noticed a Jeep out front of this house with a bumper sticker that read simply, "Barack Obama 2008." The bumper sticker was green and gray, as it was before the catchy slogans and market-tested graphics.

Sometimes we would comment on the message, sometimes not, but we both knew that we both noticed it every time we passed. It was like this little seed that was planted, of something that was possible. When we did talk about it, Carrie's basic point was that it was too soon for Obama to run. Maybe in four, or eight years, she would say. Carrie has a hard time getting her hopes up, because disappointment crushes her so. She had long predicted that the first black president would be a Republican.

I would try to convince her that there are times when a candidate has to get in now, even if it is "too soon," because momentum is huge, another chance may not develop, and too thick of a voting record can be used against you, especially as a sitting Senator. Usually, if it came up, I would speculate on a "President Obama," and she would say, "I don't want to talk about it," or words to that effect. She did say that if Obama became president, we would have to write a thank you note to the people who rented that house, drove that Jeep, placed that bumper sticker, planted that seed.

We all know how the election turned out. I don't write this to point out how I was right, and Carrie was wrong. That happens all the time. ... What?...

In the Summer of 2008, a few months before the general election, the people who rented that house, drove that Jeep, placed that bumper sticker, planted that seed; they moved. We never got the chance to thank them for the small but significant role they played in giving us hope that Obama could become president. I write this to say, "Thank you," to them. They'll never know what a service they did. It wasn't the internet, social media, brilliant campaign strategy, or the other stuff that has been credited for Obama's victory. It was simply hope, courageously stated on a bumper sticker, in 2005. Thank you.

Peace,

JS4

More Falafel, More Music

I returned to the Flying Falafel for lunch yesterday, on a lunch date with my lovely wife. Parking on The Drag is never easy, and mid-day when it is 102 degrees is a added level of difficulty. We pulled into the small lot behind the restaurant, where "We'll tow your a**" signs were everywhere. Uncertain if this meant us, I wanted to check. On the sidewalk, I spotted the woman who served me my Po'boy last week, and I asked if we were okay parking in that lot. She said some unkind words about the landlord, and indicated that we better move the car. Her brother had just stepped outside, and he - get this - offers to move my car for me, to a safer lot next door. I hand him my keys, and voila, spontaneous valet parking! I already liked these guys after one visit, and now they are my new best friends. Would it even matter if he food stunk? Well, yes, it would, but we don't have to worry about that.

The Thursday lunch special came recommended by "Anonymous," so we split a large plate of Menssef. It was tender lamb, in a yogurt reduction (or maybe a strained yogurt) sauce with rice. It was creamy, and complimented the lamb nicely. I'll go back again, if you are in Austin, you should let these nice people make you lunch. Can't promise you the valet service, though.

Another in-store yesterday with Monahans, who got some nice press upon the release of this new album. Their previous stuff was described as "alt-country," but now I'd say they've gone heavy on the "alt" part of that. This is a band that has gotten to the chapter in their career entitled, "So, You've Realized and Accepted that Commercial Success is Never Going to Happen."
Very liberating, so now they seem to be doing what they want. They played about seven songs, and there was not a radio single among them. One guitar created a haunting hum, the other moved through rough chord progressions, and the drummer stood front and center, though only sang occasional back-up. It was good, and only one of the songs wandered so far afield that I got bored. Monahans is destined to be critically well-regarded, and commercially unviable; and they seem okay with that.

The wives and kids of the band members were there in support, and some of the kids were really rockin' out. The kid in the red shirt was doing a mean air guitar with the plastic toy in his hands, and the little girl was looking for a mosh pit to join.

Kids of all ages love live music.

Peace,

JS4

So Much Music

Carrie and I went to Charlie Robison's in-store at Waterloo on Tuesday. He was recently divorced from his Dixie Chick wife, Emily, and all of the songs on the new album reflect that struggle, or at least his side of it. All this music may be cathartic for him, but he does not appear to be having much fun. He has too many players in his band, as he does not need a keyboard player and a pedal steel player. There were so many layers of music, that I could rarely make out the lyrics to the songs.



I have liked most of his music since 1998, when we saw him tape an Austin City Limits show. Carrie had a greater affinity for him early, and I came around when Lloyd Maines was playing with him at the ACL taping. Tuesday, we just kind of ached for him, as he looked and sounded depressed, playing for a rather small audience at the record store. I worry that he may become to Texas Country music, what John Daly has become to PGA Golf. At least Daly still draws a crowd to see his every potential train wreck. I hope Charlie Robison doesn't fall into that kind of tailspin.

Here are a couple of songs from Charlie's better days:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGulN5J8e64 El Cerrito Place

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7osnZTch6UM My Hometown

St. Vincent is from Dallas, and drew a big crowd to Waterloo. This is some kind of underground phenomenon that I was unaware of. The woman is the singer, and she plucks out the rhythm of the songs on her electric guitar, as there is no drummer. The key instrumentalist was the violin player, with a couple of guys on flute and, I think, an oboe. This is not in any way your traditional pop sound, but she can, indeed, really sing. The young, nerdy hipsters in the crowd seemed enthralled. I looked on youtube for a typical St. Vincent song, but since they are unclassifiable, their is no typical song. Listen if you've got too much free time:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bYoT14ZRY2E

Usually, in-stores occur at 5:00, with free Shiner beer, which they start serving when the band starts, and shutting down the keg soon after the music ends. Camera Obscura's show was at 1:00, with no beer, but the promise of free pizza from Austin's Pizza. I got there a little early, hoping to score some free lunch. The pizza was already gone at 12:50, and I saw only a few people with pizza in the crowd. I declare this promotion a failure, and hope they return to giving the people what they want: Shiner beer.

Camera Obscura was an intentionally nerdy young group from Glasgow, Scotland. Where Gomez was an adult indie sounding UK band, these guys and gals were 10 years younger, with a sound to match, though not unpolished. Nothing special, but somebody gave them a travel budget.

If you've read this far, surely you want to friend me on Facebook. I am appalled that friend can be a verb, but you can't stop the train that is "social media." If you've already friended me (conjugation alert!), thanks.

Peace,

Jay

High Speed and a Slower Pace

Man, I'm just blogging my a** off this week.
Look at all this "content."
What is making all this productivity possible is our new cable modem and wireless router.
I now know (somewhat) what those words mean. We got all this new technology and our new laptop, so no more dial-up for the Gerard/Laughlin household. I no longer have to go to the library to get this done.

After nearly three weeks off, I can feel the pace of my life starting to slow to summer speed. June has felt very busy, and I'm not a big fan of busy. Being busy is overrated, and made popular by people who get a lot of stuff done. I'm glad there are people who get a lot done; some of my best friends are busy. That's just not how I want my summer to feel.

One way I can tell that I feel less stress is how I react to traffic and stupid drivers. During low-stress summer periods, I find myself being more patient, and tolerant of the morons with whom I have to share the road. Doesn't make them less moronic; I am just less bothered by them.

I really noticed this phenomenon on my first day back to school last August. Some clown at 45th and Airport wouldn't turn right EVEN THOUGH HE HAD THE GREEN ARROW! I found myself yelling "sailor quality" curse words at 8:30 AM, less than five minutes after shifting into "going to work" mode. "Wow, where has that been?" I thought to myself. The Summer of Jay 4 ended right then and there.

That first day back at school, without students, is usually a chance to show up a little late, catch up with fellow staff members, and ease back into the routine. Not this time. I cruised in to find out that the meeting had already started. No one had told me that the new Instructional Coaches were going to be there FIRST THING on THE FIRST day. It was like going from 0-60 on that roller coaster at Silver Dollar City. I'm sure these enthusiastic women (and one token guy) had some wonderful ideas for how to teach our students, but I was not mentally prepared to go like that on day one. These Instructional Coaches were supposed to offer ongoing support throughout the school year. We never saw them again. Maybe they'll be back again on our first day this year. If so, I hope I get a heads up that they are coming , and I really hope they aren't scheduled to arrive until the afternoon.

Peace,

Jay


P.S. I just saw that South Carolina's Republican Governor Mark Sanford admitted to an affair while he was "clearing his head," er, "doing some writing," er, "hiking the Appalachian Trail," er, in Argentina with his mistress. This comes in the wake of Republican Senator John Ensign from Nevada admitting that he, too, had an affair. Looks like they'll have to turn in their "Sanctimonious Defenders of Traditional Marriage" cards at the next GOP meeting. Both of these guys were on the list of possible presidential candidates for 2012. Now I think they are spending the weekend with John Edwards, at his "So You've Decided to Kill Your Political Future" seminar.
Will Mike Huckabee be the last Republican standing, next time around? Mitt? Hey, Newt hasn't had to admit an affair in several years. Maybe he's counting on second chances and short memories.

Need a New Po'boy

One of the first blog entries from last summer was about Gene's, a New Orleans, home cooking kind of place on East 11th. They had great shrimp po'boys that were a priority anytime I had a day off. Sadly, Gene closed up shop and moved back to New Orleans a couple of months ago. I was not consulted. That blog entry:

http://jaysummer4.blogspot.com/2008/06/return-to-genes.html


Through the grapevine, I'd heard of a new spot for po'boys. As unlikely as it may be, the name of this place is The Flying Falafel, located on The Drag next to UT. After I ordered my sandwich, I heard the young woman who had taken my order call back to "Mom" in the kitchen. This drew my interest. Typically, restaurants on The Drag are staffed by students who need work close to campus. I inquired if this was a family operated establishment.

Come to find out that "Mom" is from Jordan, and the now adult children were born in New Orleans. This explains the mixed menu of Middle Eastern and New Orleans foods. This family has been in Austin for a couple of years, so they are not Katrina evacuees. But they are nice addition to Austin, however they got here. I told them that I had been a fan of Gene's, which led to an on-the-spot compare and contrast between the old favorite and the new po'boy. For the record, The Flying Falafel's po'boy has more shrimp, and more sauce than Gene's, including a mixture of ketchup and mayo on one half of the bread. Different, but just as good, and very fresh.

The brother of the family joined in the conversation, and it turns out that they are considering moving into the old Gene's location, as a way to expand their business. You heard it here first. I gave them some semi-solicited advice : "Go for it." People are used to getting New Orleans food at the Gene's locale, and they can build on that base to turn people onto their Middle Eastern fare. I am admittedly in the tank for this little mom-and-pop (though I saw no sign of a "pop") restaurant.

Word on the street is that they have a killer Thursday lunch special. Carrie and I are planning to try it this week. It's one of "Mom's" recipes from Jordan. I'll let ya know.

Peace,

Jay

Here's a New Post

There are a number of reasons why I have not had a new blog entry for several days. We have been looking to upgrade our in-home technology for a while. Carrie has wanted a new laptop, and I have wanted to replace our 19" TV with something from the modern era. With decisions like this, we almost always move at a glacial pace. The glacier melts during the summer, and we finally make some moves. While Carrie was working in Las Vegas, I bought the new TV, after much research and trips to three Target stores. She had already ordered the new Dell, and we were waiting on delivery.

These purchases were also timed to coincide with a visit from Scott, our tech support guru from Garland. Carrie and I can often muddle through with hooking up new equipment, but what takes us two hours to figure out, Scott can do better in 20 minutes. Scott, known in some quarters as "Scootie", or merely "Uncle", also repaired a broken A/C vent in our bedroom while he was here.
Pictured below are the old and new TVs. The new one is a 32", which shames the old one, while still fitting in our small living room. We are still using rabbit ears for reception, so we have not fully moved into the 1980's yet.

Getting hours of tech help from Scott means plenty of eating out in Austin. He is a creature of habit like us, so we had old favorites like the chicken fried steak from Hyde Park Bar and Grill, and breakfast tacos at Julio's. We mixed things up by taking Scott for a burger at The Counter Cafe ( very good, but I have not seen the cute waitress there in months) and Mexican food at El Chile. El Chile has always had good food, and the hipsters who used to frequent it have moved on, so our last few visits there have been even better. Good enchiladas and chorizo quesadillas.

Sadly, we were unable to see any live music with Scott, so he'll just have to come back. I'm sure we'll have more projects to tackle soon.

Peace,

Jay