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I was so entranced by Lydia's playing the other night, that it wasn't until the final moments that I decided to bring out my camera to capture a moment of her playing for posterity. Even though I missed the ten minute concert that preceded this, here is a glimpse of her gorgeous skills to share with the blog. It might be best to close your eyes because my camera work is horrendous.
Well they're cutting me off cold turkey. Just like the long line of rock n' rollers before me, I have decided it's time for me to take the needles out of my bruised arms and step back into the real world. No, I'm not quitting crack...today I had my last IV!
Over the past 10 days, I've done about 15 IV's of various healing fluids that I hope will get me back on the road to recovery. A part of me is going to miss sitting in the IV lounge every day with three hours filled reading books, listening to music and gazing at the other patients. There is always this inquisitive voyeuristic urge to ask my fellow lounger's what their reason for being there is but you realize that "Hey what ya in for?" works just about as well in a doctor's office as it does in prison; it's none of my business, and I didn't want to get messed up in the wrong gang. Those IV patients can get pretty nasty. Before you know it, you're trading cigarettes for one more milligram of Vitamin C just to get them off your back. It's a tough life for a junkie.
Aside from seeing various regulars, the girl who looked so near death that she put my problems into perspective, John my faithful standby who sat adjacent to me and talked about his flirtation with dance back in the 70's, and the constant stream of newbies dealing with smoke related illnesses (since Montana is still on fire), I'm really going to miss my doctor. It was my first introduction to Naturopathy and it's something I could see myself keeping with in the future. Every treatment seems so personalized and rather than treating just the symptoms, she really is helping me get to the base of my mono and the burnout that probably led up to it. The fall is still a mysterious creature looming on the horizon and I'm having my ups and downs emotionally dealing with the fact that I might not be ready to return by then. The IV's have blasted my system so much that over the next few days I'm bound to feel a little rough but I can only hope that the coming weeks bring some sort of relief from this increasingly annoying illness. It will take a while for my system to settle down, but the idea is that this will fight the virus once and for all! I might be back and kicking before I know it. Back when I first found out I had mono, I thought at most it would be a month I was out but here I am four months later and still feeling ill. It's difficult feeling sick around the clock (to varying degrees) but I have to have faith that it will lift soon enough. "Patience, Young Skywalker."
Perhaps the one thing I really won't miss is the nurse who had such difficulty getting the needles in my veins. Whereas my doc barely seemed to pinch me before I was done and hooked up to the IV, the nurse kept "blowing" the needle as she stabbed (perhaps a bit dramatic) me repeatedly, claiming she was just nervous because the doctor was watching her. I couldn't help but wonder if I should vocalize my wish that she stop using me as her voodoo doll and refrain from needling me until the doc had turned her head, but I just kept a smile on my face and hummed a song as my life as a pin-cushion continued. "I just need one more do-over!" (Jennifer?)
Walking out of the office today I began to get nostalgic about my past two weeks there but then I realized I still have a few more days of bruising on my forearm to show off. Every time I hand over cash at a register I'll still have people thinking "Hey! He's just like Amy Winehouse." Little do they know I'm just a vitamin junkie.
Sitcoms usually suck. That might be a rather broad statement but in general, network sitcoms are poorly written gags with two dimensional characters that fail to grow much over an extended run. While "Golden Girls" falls into that category in many ways as far as broad characters go, it is a pretty funny sitcom, even 15 years after its initial run. Today, after getting IVed and admiring the growing track marks on my arm (which make me like a junkie hiding behind a garbage bin looking for used needles), I decided to spend some time perusing YouTube. Lo and behold! My dad's episode of "Golden Girls" from when we were living in LA during the early 90's happens to be there in its entirety. Perhaps the most groundbreaking role of his career (I kid), he plays Blanche's gay brother's boyfriend...before it was cool to play gay! If you have some time to spare, it's a pretty hilarious episode and you get to see my dad complete with pleated pants and mustache. What better way to spend an afternoon?
There are those moments where you hear a piece of music and your brain senses a familiarity that you can't seem to place. You search your memory trying to remember if it was in a concert, a dance piece, on TV, in the dentist's office, the elevator, who knows?! But when Lydia sits down at the piano, you may as well just immerse your brain in listening to the music without trying to place it, because it's going to sound better than you've ever heard it before anyway.
Last night, my family was graced with the presence of the glorious Lydia and her wonderful husband Mark who joined us for burgers in the backyard. These newlyweds recently moved to Montana for Mark to take a job at the University of Montana in the Media Arts Department, where my father works. A few weeks ago, Mark, my father, Anya, and Jes (who also attended our soiree) started the first round of shooting for a dance film they are making in abandoned buildings in Butte, Montana. Unfortunately, due to my illness, I wasn't able to partake as planned, but I'm eagerly awaiting seeing Mark's cinematography and the dancing of these two lovely ladies. Even though I wasn't able to partake in the film, it was a welcome change to my IV (League) days to visit with everyone.
What was so great about last night was that everything was so unexpected and I felt fortunate to be in the company of so many wonderful people. After grilling burgers, and eating some delicious salad, we spoke about movies (where my dad and Mark are especially and intimidatingly knowledgeable), dance, theater and our crappy pop culture guilty pleasures before the real treat of the evening arrived. As my mom prepared some sundaes (in her perfect motherly fashion) Lydia took to the piano and let her fingers loose. After getting her doctorate from Juilliard and her masters at Yale, she now spends her time being a concert pianist, rehearsal pianist for the Met Opera, coaching world class Opera singers and being a flat out great person married to another flat out great person. Fortunately for me, they have ended up in Missoula and in my living room!
(A trio of stunned onlookers gawk at the rare species playing the piano.)
(One of my dad's drawings sits over the mantle in our living room. I'm constantly amazed by how talented my mom, dad and sister are. Carson and I were arguing over who would get the painting when it was time for us to inherit it. She says she claimed it "4 or 5 years ago." I claim that I might have to fight her Mortal Kombat style accept it and move on.)
(Mama Murphy prepares the dessert. She's practically Martha Stewart.)
Lydia teased us as she swore she didn't know anything by heart, before proceeding to play three glorious Schubert pieces that erupted from her fingertips without a piece of sheet music in front of her. Everyone, even our dog Mazie, sat quietly and listened as she played our own personal mini-concert before she had to leave. Sitting on our lounge chair, I was immediately wishing I could be in a studio dancing to her music, but all I could do was listen. Carson and I decided that we want to do some sort of duet to one of her Schubert pieces but only if she agrees to play. Hopefully the future with hold an exciting collaboration of something like that.
(Movie stars, Jes and Anya, are worked into a frenzy the the music filling the room. They go almost as crazy as Schubert.)
When I look back over the last four months, by far the most difficult time of my life ("so far," as Homer Simpson would point out), I'm surprised at how many good moments there have been. People constantly feel sorry for me when I tell them how long I've been sick, and I can understand the sentiment, but it really has made me cherish nights like last night that much more. Spending time in the backyard with these people made me proud to have such a loving family with friends that give me shit intrigue me and make me eager to get out and work again. And then there is Mazie, my constant companion, and even though when she barks incessantly I want to throw my brain out the window, she's always there to keep us company. Even Mazie was exhausted by the end of our old fashioned piano party; a true sign of success.
(She kind of looks like a creepy rat here...but I promise she's cute.)
(This blog can be filed in the "Things no one cares about" category.)
Uh oh! Alliteration is back! Where's Debbie Allen? It's clear from one glance at the following photos what Ms. Allen meant when she talked about "passion and power, personified" earlier this month on SYTYCD. It was a premonition to the day Carson and I would do a fashion show before my fever bath! Faced with my third night in a row of submerging my feet in hot water while I drink rat poison yarrow tea, Carson decided it was time to try on all the vintage dresses in the house. Therefore, the only logical conclusion was to get me decked out in my fever robes and do a little runway show to the bath.
The past few days have included watching LOTS of bad movies ("Factory Girl" anyone? Truly horrendous) and drinking different magical tinctures to nurse me back to health. The first tincture I got was deemed "delicious" by my doctor but it tastes like doing straight shots of Jager. Needless to say, it has me gagging on a regular basis. When the doc told me the second tincture was going to taste horrible, I feared for my life took a deep breathe and downed it. Gagging is an understatement with this one but I gotta have faith! I resume my IV treatment tomorrow so send out those healing vibes!
(Hopefully the roughest I will ever look on the blog.)
(Carson takes the cake in this one.)
INTRODUCING THE NEW RANT SCREAM RATING SYSTEM!
With how quickly I go through musical obsessions, I am constantly looking for the next CD to consume my week. Usually I find one, sing it in the shower until I can’t stand the sound of it any longer and move along. But then there are those CD’s that engrain themselves in my head and refuse to let up; this is exactly what I found when Michael suggested the debut CD of Sara Bareilles.
A singer songwriter from California, Bareilles is everything you could want from a pop singer: an incredible voice, variety in her songs, and an extremely talented writer. Whereas Kelly Clarkson turned her grief with her record label into a monotonous drone in the press, Bareilles has taken the pressure for conformity and turned it into the infectious lead single “Love Song.” What follows after that is twelve songs that run the emotional gamut but never cease to be great sing-a-long pop. That isn’t to say that any of the music is throwaway summer trash because this CD is sure to catch on with the public and explode over the next year.
There are moments where her style sounds like a female Maroon 5 (the blasting “Come Round Soon”) but then she recedes into a sweet love song (“Between the Lines”) where she sounds distinctly like her own artist. The closest vocal comparison, and I hesitate to say this, is Sheryl Crow, but she contains a lot more power than Crow ever seems to have.
“Little Voice” is a stellar album that deserves a listen by anyone who enjoys a great female pop singer. It’s on sale on iTunes for $7.99 so go pick up your copy today! 
Most people are probably more familiar with M.I.A than they realize. After exploding onto the music scene with the critically acclaimed album “Arular” in 2005, she was quickly swept up to market cars with her infectious lead single “Galang.” In NYC, this ad preceded almost every movie I attended that year but it wasn’t until David put her on while I was hanging out in his apartment one night that I really took notice of this unique talent.
M.I.A’s music has a frenetic pace and urgency that makes it come across as club music with a twist. At first she sounds like a Sri Lankan Missy Elliot and that comparison might not be too far off. There is something about her production style that sounds extremely innovative and brings comparisons to the unique style of American mastermind Timbaland. “Kala,” her second album, was released this week and expands upon the same unique style that M.I.A. brought two years ago. Something about her music is so in your face that it almost makes listening to an entire album difficult to digest. With bird squawks, gunfire, and tribal drumming peppering her rapping, it is obvious from the opening moments of “Bamboo Banger” that this music will be unlike any hip-hop you’ve heard before, even if you are familiar with M.I.A.
In the style of some of my favorite rappers (Kanye West or Eminem) M.I.A tackles topics that have become sorely lacking in popular music but are so pressing to society. Her last album dealt with the difficulties of war, and this album dissects it even more, while adding poverty, disease and the occasional song about “Boyz” thrown in (not to be confused with Britney Spears’ similarly misspelled track.) Of course rather than cooing about boyZ dancing on a dance floor, M.I.A chooses to look at the various ways boys misbehave and start confrontations (wars included.)
It would be nice to hear this album get some mainstream play, and with the help of Perez Hilton plugging her on his site perhaps it will. When “Kala” hits, with great songs like “20 Dollar,” “Jimmy,” “World Town” and “XR2” it’s infectious dance hip-hop with a meaning, an extreme rarity in the genre better known for pulsing beats and forgettable (if any) lyrics. While some of the songs don’t make the biggest impact (“Mango Pickle Down River” still has me confused), and it takes several listens to decipher many of the lyrics, even at its worst, “Kala” is unique.
You can read a GREAT review of her album at FourFour….he can put it all together much better than I can in my current state. 
The last album I planned on reviewing for this entry is “Challengers,” the new album by my favorite Canadian power-poppers The New Pornographers. Posters for the group’s upcoming appearance in Missoula are lining the coffee houses around town and every time I run into one I’m quick to point out to my friends what a great band they are. Unfortunately, getting through the album has been a rather tedious project.
New Pornographers are yet another recommendation (from Daniel Keene) that I latched onto after he played them in his apartment a few years ago. “Electric Version” was the first album I heard of theirs but it wasn’t until their last album “Twin Cinema,” that I was completely swept up in the layered pop of this cult favorite group. I still play that album regularly, and find its lyrics as confusing as ever but they have a sound of tight harmonies by group leaders Neko Case and A.C. Newman, that is distinctly their own. Unfortunately, that sound is growing a little tired on the album I downloaded Tuesday from iTunes, “Challengers.”
With this album, I’m asking myself if the whole “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” idea is true. The group is still doing what they do fairly well, but it’s becoming very monotonous. From the opening track “My Right Versus Yours,” it’s clear that this will be a slightly more mellow version of the Pornographers, but is that what the listeners want? Growth is necessary but this album feels like a step in the wrong direction. It makes for good background music but I don’t think there is much that will keep me coming back for more. There are several standout tracks, including “Myriad Harbor,” which packs a little of the surprising punch the group is known for. Everything else is pleasant enough but ultimately a disappointment. To paraphrase a review from Entertainment Weekly, perhaps the NEW Pornographers should consider changing their name, because nothing about them feels new anymore.
I know that everyone must be getting EXTREMELY tired of these "Lazy Posts" (almost as tired as I am getting of posting them) but with my IV intensive going on, I haven't exactly had much energy for original content. I've got a few things planned but tonight I'm under strict directions to give myself a fever. My parents are going to do a dance around me as my dog Mazie bites my toes until I get feverish. Sounds like fun, right? Anyway, I've got a few things planned but my weekend trip to go see Keigwin and Company in Helena had to be canceled due to my fever tea/bath parade. So until I have the energy to share my rants with the world, I figured I would share a few hilarious videos that Michael and Jess introduced me to over the weekend. They are both slightly ridiculous and I love every minute of it. Enjoy!
"I am very, very afraid to move my arm." That was the first thought running through my head yesterday when I had my first experience being attached (is that even what you say?) to an IV. Now before anyone goes and gets all alarmed, no I'm not on a morphine drip and going to go all Edith Piaf on your ass. Instead, I'm undergoing treatment from a Naturopath here in Missoula so I can rid myself of this devil virus once and for all. Over the next 10 days, I'll be hooked up to an IV for 3 hours on 7 different days. What a way to spend your summer!
Naturopathy seems to be something I could get very interested in as this is the first doctor who has really wanted to attack the root of the problem, my overwhelming sexiness my immune system, and treat me so I become healthy rather than just treating the symptoms. Every morning I enter the converted house and assume my spot in the "IV Lounge" armed with books, magazines, iPod, water, cellphone, and protein bars. It's a very bizarre expreience seeing a tube stuck in your arm filled with flowing liquid that looks more like urine or Kool-Aid than anything helpful. Today when I parked it on a comfortable lounger, I started reading my book (the extremely frightening "Under the Banner of Heaven") but couldn't read more than a few sentences without glancing over to my veins which had a cold sensation being pumped through them. I don't usually get queasy from needles but when I stood up to go to the bathroom and glanced over to the IV I was toting with me to find the tube filled with blood, I was a little uneasy. It's just your overwhelming sexiness gravity, the doctor told me. Somehow that didn't make the sight any easier to digest.
Somehow I'm managing to stay positive throughout all this and really hoping that by the time the fall season rolls around I will be on my way to performing again and able to rejoin my friends on stage at City Center. If that's not what happens, then I guess it just isn't meant to be right now. The doctor has warned me that I might get feverish over the next few days as my immune system steps up to the plate to attack this virus, so if I'm not up to blogging, please forgive me! I will say that I have a couple of exciting interviews planned for the month of September and and couple other exciting developments coming up. Stay tuned and SPREAD THE RANT! Thanks for all the support.
The past two summers have included several trips to Montana, but this year Missoula has been enveloped in a smoky haze that rivals the amount of smoke usually reserved for airplanes in the 60's. It wasn't exactly what Michael and I had in mind when Jess arrived for our weekend vacation and we hoped that a little road trip to frontier land Virginia City to visit our friend Gillian would bring some of the sights Montana is famous for.
Sometimes I forget how giant Montana is. It is the fourth largest state in terms of land mass after all, and what is so mesmerizing about it's size is how empty it is. You can drive for hours and see nothing but mountains peppered with the occasional house, trailer, deer or mullet and fortunately over the past 48 hours we saw all that and more.
(We started out our road trip with this completely candid pose, which my mother regarded as "almost pornographic." This is about as close the the drivers seat as I will ever be, seeing I won't get my license until I'm 47.)
(With Michael's exploding biceps, we were able to rough it and catch some delicious food for the trip in the Clark Fork River...)
(Swedish Fish Authentic Montana Trout! Who knew they came in lemon AND cherry flavors. God is crafty like that.)
(After a hearty meal we took a moment to reflect on life in the vast Montana scenery as we blasted "Omigod" from "Legally Blonde: The Musical." Jess threatened to jump out the window so we switched to a little top 40.)
(After hearing Justin Timberlake tell us that we were bringing Sexy Back, we took the VC by storm.)
(Too bad when we showed up the town was filled with plaid clad cowboys without power. Where were we to eat?! Was this going to turn into some bad ghost town horror movie?)
(We tried to do a dance to restore the town's power.)
(When we arrived at the Fairweather Inn (which we later found out is haunted) we stood at the counter for about 5 minutes wondering where the desk clerk was. We waited, and waited, and waited until I finally decided to ask the woman who had been sitting in the lobby watching us. "Pardon me, do you know if there is anyone working here?" After pondering some secret fact in her head for a minute she remarked "Oh! That's me." Hmmmm...thank you for helping us as you watched us being very confused at the desk. No power does not equal no brain, does it? She showed us to the room, which had a missing key, and after a quick tour we decided....not so much.)
(What were we to do?!)
(Since we didn't want raw steak or chicken we decided to journey to Ennis, which is a "town" 15 miles away. It appears it has been infiltrated sassy Russians who helped us at Subway.)
(Jess was scared of the moist vegetables lining the counter and felt uncomfortable because she thought they had just ended a sweaty vegetable orgy.)
(When we got back in the car, the Bearmunk (that rare Bear/Chipmunk hybrid) warned us to hurry back or we would miss Gillian's show.)
(On the drive back we got to see some of the sights that Montana is famous for, including this Heaven/Hell sunset value pack.)
(Before we knew it we were at the Brewery. Michael's bicep is as big as my torso.)
(Even though there was a child standing by with a shirt that said "Life's short...hunt naked" on it, Jess and Michael took a moment to relish their love for each other...)
(Before they started chugging beer while I sat by as sober Sally Struthers.)
(The Brewery Follies almost begs you to get tanked as you sit watching it so it was a test of my BIP/BON (breathe in the positive/breathe out the negative) strengths. That is the official BIP/BON hand movment, in case you are wondering.)
(Intermission brought some confusion about the sense of humor contained in the show. It seemed to be a little bit "gays are funny," "men in dresses are funny," "pedophilia is funny," "STD's are funny," which certainly had the audience laughing, but we were a bit confused. Our friend Gillian was fabulous as always, though.)
(Michael tried to choose his outfit for the next day and was particularly drawn to this true Montana style belt of Gillian's. What would the next morning hold in store?)
(Sassy place-mats...)
(Hot new boyfriends...)
(And a trip to the past. Somehow they manage to make the taking of these photographs one of the most unpleasant experiences ever, but the end result is always hilarious. They direct you down to the fingernail so any of our ideas were quickly shot out the window. We figured a priest, a whore, and a soldier were the most random collection of people you could get and the photo was one of the most random you are likely to see.)
(Fortunately we didn't get lost in our characters and were able to regain ourselves on the long drive home, which brought smoke, rain and most surprisingly hail...in August. Oh, Montana! What would we do without you and your ghost towns?!)
Last night, Michael, Jess and I were sharing some YouTube clips when they asked me if I had heard "those two boys belting their faces off in the gym." That description didn't ring a bell so as soon as we got home they loaded it up and my jaw proceeded to drop to the floor. The song they are singing is from "I'm Here" from the musical "The Color Purple," and it was a song that Fantasia performed a lot when she was promoting her appearance in the show. First of all, I've never seen guys sing like this. Second of all, how random that they are just singing it in the gym with their backpacks on. What?! Listen and be astounded. Belting their faces off indeed.
