here's what happened last week:
after a hot, grueling ride to vegas to meet up with some friends from austin, henry and i had night out on the town with the texas boys. henry got to ride in the boat that was being pulled by the gorgeously decorated rented rv, the vehicle of choice for the 5 austinites on their western tour of the states. we visited the eerie fundamentalist mormon world of colorado city, where multiple women harmoniously rule the same houshold, and where teenage boys are forced out of town to forget the syructured way of life in the small town. we visited the north rim of the grand canyon, watching thunderstorms break across the south rim as the sun was setting. we spent three days exploring the myriad liquid fingers of lake powell, as the desert sun beat against our chests. for the first time since austin, i set out wakesurfing in the pleasent waters of the lake.
then i received a phonecall. "patrick. we will be doing our final day of training tomorrow down in redondo beach. will you be able to make it?"
"...yeah, of course i can make it. i'll be there at nine a.m."
thus another journey began. lake powell is approximately 600 miles from los angeles, and i had15 hours to get my vespa-riding self back to the coast. i shot down towards flagstaff on a half-gallon tank, thinking i could refuel at the next small town. i did not know that the next 5 small towns were gas station-free, and the next pump was 80 miles away. my gas mileage isn't that good. at the small town of gap, i asked around at a general store for the whereabouts of any gasoline. there was none. i took a chance in asking a lady in a pick-up outside the store if she had any fuel. she merely asked how much i needed, took her freshly filled gas container from the back of the truck, and gave me a gallon of gas. thankfully, i gave her some money and moved on again.
in flagstaff, i drove the streets of old town looking for a suitable dining joint. after choosing a particular diner, i parked my vespa and headed round the corner. i suddenly decided i should park henry closer to the restaurant. as i turned back around the corner, i watched as a big, unmmarked, white van backed into henry--throwing the vespa onto another car--then squeeled its tires and sped off. adrenaline pumping, i ran after the van trying to catch a license number. i did not run fast enough.
two and a half hours later, after a police report, dinner, and waiting around for henry to start because the fuel filter was clogged, i inspected the new scrapes and dent in henry's side and set off once again. this time, straight to la.
a year ago to this day, i had my first all-night vespa ride as i headed toward new jersey through the heart of indiana, ohio, and pennsylvania, so i could catch the rehearsal for the wedding of one of my best friends, jared. again, i experienced the cold, back-aching discomfort through the night, and at times had to fight back the strong urge to close my eyes for only a moment. twice, i stopped off the side of the interstate for a quick nod. through the mountains, through the desert, i made my way mile by mile to the sprawling land of los angeles. navigating my way through endless highways and interstates, i rolled into the redondo beach marina parking lot an hour and a half late, but still eager to get my training on. the other soldiers were taking a break from rowing, so i grabbed a coffee with the bunch, then headed out to the harbor for a grueling day of rowing.
i was tired and i was worn out. i endured the night, and i endured the day of hot sun and rowing. it was worth it. sag voucher number two.
Aug 26, 2006
Aug 18, 2006
training day
tuesday was spent in san pedro, rowing boats, rigging a sailing vessel called the black pearl, and firing cannons. i gues i'm now officially an english soldier.
meandering up the coast, i stopped for a rest at a park in palos verdes, and ended my day at a pirate ship of another kind.
Aug 12, 2006
blonde on blonde
anyone in line to see jessica simpson perform at popstarz last night might have glanced at the venue's entrance, noticed a twenty-something boy being restrained on the ground by two bouncers and thought "grrl, you have to wait in line to see the show."
js made a brief appearance at the venue last night; and despite the club's crowded attendance, her appearance was announced only yesterday on the factory's website. chris asked me to join him and some other friends for night on the town and near jessica simpson.
while giving mitch a piggyback ride up the staris to the dancefloor, a security guy decided it was the right time to tell mitch to get off my back. or rather, pull mitch off my back. excuse me? i certainly understand the necessity for the big boys running the club to keep liabilities down and maintain a supersafe atmosphere. but how does yanking someone off my back while i'm on the staris manage to do that?
for the next half hour, i tried to explain that to anyone who would listen. i was passed from manager, to security, to bouncers at the door, all the while being ignored in my complaint. granted, 12:48 am isn't the best time to sound off or hop on my soap box. but all i wanted was a patient listener. but no one would listen. that's how i ended up on the curb, arguing with the bouncers, 20 feet down the curb being restrained by the bouncers, and finally throwing myself through the stalks of bamboo growing in front of the entrance as i tried to run back into the venue. i was swiftly tackled by both bouncers.
as simpson stepped into the crowd and lost herself and her song amongst the throng, my friends got word i was in trouble at the front. just as my throat was being squeezed, my arms were being twisted, cops were being called, and i was still trying my darndest just to be heard, my friends snatched me from the clutches of the bouncers, up off the ground and led me away yelling things about being my lawyer and promising to take me home. eager, onlooking paparzzi took advantage the altercation to fill time while waiting for sights of simpson.
so my friends listened to my rants, and my irritible anger was quickly assuaged. i didn't get to see the blonde bombshell sing her tunes, but i did get to put on a blonde show of my own.
Aug 11, 2006
a job's a job
this is the reason i do not have a real job:
this morning, i was really trying to get up early. i even accounted for the fact that i would definitely hit the snooze a few times. that's why the alarm was set for the insanely early hour of 9 am. i'm really trying to get up early these days and make the morning really productive--like making myself breakfast before noon.
as is usual, i rolled around my bed and hastily hit the snooze while enjoying the luxurious 300 thread-count linens i graciously inherited from the ritz-carlton a year ago. as i became increasingly irritable at the sound of my alarm, it sounded loudly for a third time. wait, no, that wasn't my alarm. that. was. something...else. think, patrick. think. oh, it's so early, it's so. sleep. yes, sleep... but. but... phone! it's the. wait. phone!
in the past, i have opted to shy away from unknown numbers suddenly lighting up the face of my phone. i have not yielded to the eeri--yet tempting--"unkown number" calls that ring occasionaly. but now, my life depends on them. news from an agent, a casting director, a filmmaker who wants me to work in a project. no longer do i prefer listening to a voicemail message minutes later; on the contrary, my livelihood depends on the unknown caller.
that's why i knew i had to answer my phone this morning. a rush call to the disney lot for today's shoot for pirates of the caribbean 3. only nine actors were needed; was it possible for me to drop everything and make it down to the set? "yes" is my answer, of course." immediately, sir! and that is why i don't have a real job. to make room for my "unreal" jobs. and to make room for my very first sag voucher.
this morning, i was really trying to get up early. i even accounted for the fact that i would definitely hit the snooze a few times. that's why the alarm was set for the insanely early hour of 9 am. i'm really trying to get up early these days and make the morning really productive--like making myself breakfast before noon.
as is usual, i rolled around my bed and hastily hit the snooze while enjoying the luxurious 300 thread-count linens i graciously inherited from the ritz-carlton a year ago. as i became increasingly irritable at the sound of my alarm, it sounded loudly for a third time. wait, no, that wasn't my alarm. that. was. something...else. think, patrick. think. oh, it's so early, it's so. sleep. yes, sleep... but. but... phone! it's the. wait. phone!
in the past, i have opted to shy away from unknown numbers suddenly lighting up the face of my phone. i have not yielded to the eeri--yet tempting--"unkown number" calls that ring occasionaly. but now, my life depends on them. news from an agent, a casting director, a filmmaker who wants me to work in a project. no longer do i prefer listening to a voicemail message minutes later; on the contrary, my livelihood depends on the unknown caller.
that's why i knew i had to answer my phone this morning. a rush call to the disney lot for today's shoot for pirates of the caribbean 3. only nine actors were needed; was it possible for me to drop everything and make it down to the set? "yes" is my answer, of course." immediately, sir! and that is why i don't have a real job. to make room for my "unreal" jobs. and to make room for my very first sag voucher.
Aug 10, 2006
ballet and bayonets
"huzzah!" was my cry as i deftly lowered the musket into the cradle of my arms, anticipating the next movement of my gun: a neat, quick stab of the bayonet into my dying enemy's chest. a dying pirate's chest, that is. but today, there was no pirate to offer a quick and painful death. instead, there was a prop master and weapons trainer, telling a bunch of boys how to properly hold the gun. in the sweltering valley heat earlier in the week, the weapons trainer drilled nearly 40 british east india trading company soldiers in military meaneuvers.
after a good bit of training and a few visits to the craft services trailer, i tried my best to prove my merit as a soldier. after all, i need to get that sag card.
after wrapping military training for the day, i drove a few minutes from burbank's disney studio to the streets of hollywood. there, near the intersection of cole & santa monica, is the area's most renowned dance studio. edge is la's premier source for dance classes, ranging from hip hop and belly dancing to ballet and tap. instructors seep out of the entertainment industry's darkest corners, from the likes of madonna concerts or behind-the-scenes american idol choreography. all i'm there for is a little ballet. just as a little musketing and shoot-em-up action is right in its place, so is a well-executed plié or pirouette. although i'm only one class down, i'm hooked. combine that with my biweekly hip hop class, and i will soon be a dance machine to be reckoned with. yeah, so i think i can dance.
and that's what it's all about. as long as i'm pursuing a dream of performing for a living, i might as well get it anywhere i can. so, i'll take bayonets and ballet, please.
after a good bit of training and a few visits to the craft services trailer, i tried my best to prove my merit as a soldier. after all, i need to get that sag card.
after wrapping military training for the day, i drove a few minutes from burbank's disney studio to the streets of hollywood. there, near the intersection of cole & santa monica, is the area's most renowned dance studio. edge is la's premier source for dance classes, ranging from hip hop and belly dancing to ballet and tap. instructors seep out of the entertainment industry's darkest corners, from the likes of madonna concerts or behind-the-scenes american idol choreography. all i'm there for is a little ballet. just as a little musketing and shoot-em-up action is right in its place, so is a well-executed plié or pirouette. although i'm only one class down, i'm hooked. combine that with my biweekly hip hop class, and i will soon be a dance machine to be reckoned with. yeah, so i think i can dance.
and that's what it's all about. as long as i'm pursuing a dream of performing for a living, i might as well get it anywhere i can. so, i'll take bayonets and ballet, please.
Jul 22, 2006
so hot right now
today, la is hot.
not "hott" in the paris hilton sense, but "hot" as in the "i could throw down some egg and tofu scramble and flash fry it on my driveway because it's effing 110 degrees outside, but instead i'll just go jump in the pool in my backyard since i have a house with a pool in the middle of la" hot. at least i'm not baking in some oven of a warehouse on a sidestreet in east la, all hot and sweaty at a supposed spring break college bar while filming the same dance scene over and over. that was last weekend.
this weekend, i'm moving on to bigger, better things. monday, i'm going to get fitted for a backround role that actually requires a costume, as opposed to my own personal thinning threads. i'm still a background actor, but i think i found the doorway leading to my own sag card, a recent topic of much discussion. yesterday, i found out that the minute 30 second audition over at the disney studio campus in burbank two weeks ago succeeded. sometime in the near future i may be brandishing a sword in the direction of johnny depp and his gang of unlikely misfits widely known as the pirates of the caribbean. maybe i'll get a pistol. i'm not sure what gentlemen in the british navy would use against those goulish enemies. i have yet to see pirates 2, so i have very little point of reference for this gig.
all i know is that, due to this forthcoming work, i will walk away with sag membership and--just as importantly--a tummy filled only the finest delicacies offered at the sag craft table.
not "hott" in the paris hilton sense, but "hot" as in the "i could throw down some egg and tofu scramble and flash fry it on my driveway because it's effing 110 degrees outside, but instead i'll just go jump in the pool in my backyard since i have a house with a pool in the middle of la" hot. at least i'm not baking in some oven of a warehouse on a sidestreet in east la, all hot and sweaty at a supposed spring break college bar while filming the same dance scene over and over. that was last weekend.
this weekend, i'm moving on to bigger, better things. monday, i'm going to get fitted for a backround role that actually requires a costume, as opposed to my own personal thinning threads. i'm still a background actor, but i think i found the doorway leading to my own sag card, a recent topic of much discussion. yesterday, i found out that the minute 30 second audition over at the disney studio campus in burbank two weeks ago succeeded. sometime in the near future i may be brandishing a sword in the direction of johnny depp and his gang of unlikely misfits widely known as the pirates of the caribbean. maybe i'll get a pistol. i'm not sure what gentlemen in the british navy would use against those goulish enemies. i have yet to see pirates 2, so i have very little point of reference for this gig.
all i know is that, due to this forthcoming work, i will walk away with sag membership and--just as importantly--a tummy filled only the finest delicacies offered at the sag craft table.
Jul 21, 2006
a shadow in the background
i've done my fair share of extra work (or "background" work if one must use the pc term) since my move to la a few months ago. i have learned to expect nothing glamorous from the morning, afternoon, or often all-day-long series of filming scenes. in fact, i don't think i have spent less than twelve hours on the set, and usually in either a freezing sound stage or burning hot location with a very noticeable--and tangible--lack of air conditioning. instead, i look forward to the meal 8 hours after i arrive (usually signaling the half-way mark in the day), and just hope that the difference between the sumpuous and savory spread set out for the sag workers is only marginally more appealing than the sparse selection supplied to us non-union peons.
last week was the worst. after a long day staring at jewel's face while filming a special upcoming episode of las vegas in which she was featured, i thought things were turning for the better. the only diffence between lunch on the sag side and my side was the addition of a deliciously-crusted apple pie for dessert. i took a piece anyway. so really, there was no difference. a few days later, however, on the set of the forth-coming movie spring breakdown, i was miserably surprised at the blatant disregard for the minimum-wage non-union workers such as myself. after being pushed by the sag lunch table filled with grilled meats, chopped salads, tiered cakes, and blended smoothies, we were left in front of an empty table marked "non-union lunch." althought the table was quickly filled with food, it happened to be in the form of a small, dark, cardboard boxes, each of which contained a small sandwich, a cookie, and a bag of chips. just like kindergarten.
as most background actors will attest, the real reason for getting on these shoots is the hope that someone will notice us, give us a sag voucher, and we will be well on our way to achieving that coveted and elusive sag membership status. and apparently, all these sweaty days on the set raking in a massive 14-hour minimum wage income are worth it.
sidenote: the food may have been crap, but henry was able to make it into the shoot!
last week was the worst. after a long day staring at jewel's face while filming a special upcoming episode of las vegas in which she was featured, i thought things were turning for the better. the only diffence between lunch on the sag side and my side was the addition of a deliciously-crusted apple pie for dessert. i took a piece anyway. so really, there was no difference. a few days later, however, on the set of the forth-coming movie spring breakdown, i was miserably surprised at the blatant disregard for the minimum-wage non-union workers such as myself. after being pushed by the sag lunch table filled with grilled meats, chopped salads, tiered cakes, and blended smoothies, we were left in front of an empty table marked "non-union lunch." althought the table was quickly filled with food, it happened to be in the form of a small, dark, cardboard boxes, each of which contained a small sandwich, a cookie, and a bag of chips. just like kindergarten.
as most background actors will attest, the real reason for getting on these shoots is the hope that someone will notice us, give us a sag voucher, and we will be well on our way to achieving that coveted and elusive sag membership status. and apparently, all these sweaty days on the set raking in a massive 14-hour minimum wage income are worth it.
sidenote: the food may have been crap, but henry was able to make it into the shoot!
Jul 10, 2006
that's so runway
my apologies to all you project runway fans out there. you would have wet your pants and gone screaming from the room like a little british schoolgirl if you had seen what i saw friday night.
to be honest, the only reason i didn't act the same way is beacause i have never seen the show. sacrilege, i know. however, those of you know me will understand that, at any time i am not riding the streets of la on my vespa, snowboarding the slopes of aspen, or eating delicious and expensive food, i only have time for that's so raven on the disney channel. not project runway.
i enjoyed myself friday night as a v.i.p. with an open bar engaging in chatty conversations with people who think they are incredible because they were on the second season of project runway. i'm sure they design great clothing. and i'm sure they are witty and beautiful on camera. and i'm sure that i would be in love with them, too--if only i had more time to watch tv.
Jul 7, 2006
belle at the bowl
there's something about the poppy crooning sound of belle & sebastian that lends itself well to accompaniment by a full, live orchestra. and because of that, along with the music's folk-like accessability, the band was probably a shoe-in for a live performance at the hollywood bowl with the la philharmonic orchestra.
yesterday morning, i was gutted thinking i would have to miss the concert because i had to make my six p.m. acting class instead. but i was overjoyed when i breezed from the doors of a burbank acting studio and realized it was only 9 o'clock. possibly, i could still make the concert. i hopped on my vespa and sped through the dark los angeles streets on the way to hollywood.
i missed the shins's opening, but i made it just in time for a few of my favorite b&b tunes. it may have been a huge crowd (and sold out as well), but i was able to sneak closer to the front, hear some great orchestration, and throw back a bottle of grolsch.
Jul 6, 2006
hollywood and hilton
last night i told perez hilton i'm gay. i guess my career as an actor is officially over, unless i can somehow rise to fame as hollywood's little homo darling. that would work.yesterday evening at memphis's lit, a small and intimate post 4th-of-july gathering convened in the hottest midweek hollywood hang. after introducing myself as an actor, perez blunty (as he would) asked me if i'm gay. first of all, i don't hide it well; second of all, i said yes. he wryly rebuffed, "then you're not an actor." and, after coming out to hollywood's premier ouster, i guess he may be right.
Jun 24, 2006
podcast//15
after toiling day and night on this episode, we proudly bring you our very first enhanced podcast EVER. What is this "enhanced podcast" you ask? well, it's like a regular podcast except enhanced with links, photos, and even small little animations about corndogs. the best feature in this new-fangled type of podcast is chapter bookmarks, which allow you to easily access every section of the podcast including each song on the playlist.
these extra "enhancements" will guarantee a more enjoyable podcast experience for you, our listener. if you have already subscribed to our podcast, then it should automatically download into your itunes app. If you would like to subscribe to the best podcast this side of the mississippi (it doesnt matter which side you are on) then simply copy and paste the link below into the "subscribe to podcast" window under "advanced" in your itunes menu bar.
feed://www.markweaverart.com/podcast/3redsquaresfeed.xml
because future 3 red squares podcasts will include enhanced features, they will no longer be accessable from your browser. one final word: for those of you who "refuse" to use itunes, it is possible to download the podcasts in your preferred application, such as juice. you're on your own for that one. enjoy the new and extremely fresh/juicy podcasts.
playlist
grandaddy
under the western freeway
am 180
thom yorke
the eraser
black swan
conner
hello graphic missile
cold feelings
rjd2
deadringer
the horror
blue scholars
blue scholars
freewheelin'
soul position
hand me downs
hand me downs
cold war kids
up in rags
hang me up to dry
devotchka
how it ends
how it ends
midlake
bamnan & silvercork
balloon maker
May 31, 2006
cake and cars
for the third time, henry is in the hospital.
monday, as i was heading toward redondo beach (it wasn't malibu, i realize. sometimes i must make sacrifices for friends), i started hearing some funny noises coming from my little green vespa. it was a sort of high-pitched whirry thing--the kind of sound that annoys me but i usually ignore because, really, what could go wrong? my vespa is fine. well, the thing that could go wrong is, when cruising at seventy-five, headed south on the 405 amidst memorial day traffic, you feel this sudden lurch. a jolt. a throw-you-over-the-handlebars braking feeling. it's then that you wonder about the irony of the signs lining the freeway that yell "click-it or ticket." for me and henry, at least, it's ironic.
in hyperbolic fashion i flew over the handlebars, then slowed down to a stop as henry slowly coasted down the side of the interstate.
fortunately, i had half a piece of california's most tasty red velvet cake to keep me company. unfortunately, i had to make a piece of california's most tasty red velvet cake last for an hour and a half.
hours later, me, henry, and a greasy tow-truck driver rolled into an empty vespa store parking lot somewhere near newport beach. and that is where henry is at the moment. i could sit here and complain about the bus system in la, or decry the american love of large cars, or rant about la's disregard for the environment. but i will not. instead, i will sit quietly, and--in honor of henry--have a silent moment.
monday, as i was heading toward redondo beach (it wasn't malibu, i realize. sometimes i must make sacrifices for friends), i started hearing some funny noises coming from my little green vespa. it was a sort of high-pitched whirry thing--the kind of sound that annoys me but i usually ignore because, really, what could go wrong? my vespa is fine. well, the thing that could go wrong is, when cruising at seventy-five, headed south on the 405 amidst memorial day traffic, you feel this sudden lurch. a jolt. a throw-you-over-the-handlebars braking feeling. it's then that you wonder about the irony of the signs lining the freeway that yell "click-it or ticket." for me and henry, at least, it's ironic.
in hyperbolic fashion i flew over the handlebars, then slowed down to a stop as henry slowly coasted down the side of the interstate.
fortunately, i had half a piece of california's most tasty red velvet cake to keep me company. unfortunately, i had to make a piece of california's most tasty red velvet cake last for an hour and a half.
hours later, me, henry, and a greasy tow-truck driver rolled into an empty vespa store parking lot somewhere near newport beach. and that is where henry is at the moment. i could sit here and complain about the bus system in la, or decry the american love of large cars, or rant about la's disregard for the environment. but i will not. instead, i will sit quietly, and--in honor of henry--have a silent moment.
May 28, 2006
church and cigarettes
over a mai tai and a cigarette, i was discussing my recent plight as a kicked-out college student with my new acquaintance, emily. as emily puffed away, i unraveled the gritty, ugly details of the workings of the baptist college that practices little of the christian principle it supposedly stands for. and here the two of us were, nestled together on a leather couch in a tight corner of a smoking room, hidden away from the rest of the club goers at this little venue in hollywood. hidden away, in fact, from the rest of the world--christian and not.
as i finished my story, i noticed a familiar look in emily's eyes, that somehow easily concocted mixture of concern and repulsion: care for my situation, and disgust at those who have brought me there. emily's wrist slung the butt of her cigarette down and rubbed it harshly against the glass of the ash tray.
"well, if you still want to go to church, my boyfriend and i found this really great place that meets just around the corner. and just so you know, you'll be totally welcomed there."
something between the words that were spoken and the obvious concern behind emily's voice captured me. two years ago, i would have seen an ironic contradiction in this scene: a smoky lounge, alcohol, talk of church, and me. the gay one. now, however, i see more humanity in this situation than i would ever have seen in many of the places i was hanging around. overshadowed by love, sympathy, and the intricate workings of daily life, our vices took a back seat to that small glimpse of truth that was ultimately of importance.
as i finished my story, i noticed a familiar look in emily's eyes, that somehow easily concocted mixture of concern and repulsion: care for my situation, and disgust at those who have brought me there. emily's wrist slung the butt of her cigarette down and rubbed it harshly against the glass of the ash tray.
"well, if you still want to go to church, my boyfriend and i found this really great place that meets just around the corner. and just so you know, you'll be totally welcomed there."
something between the words that were spoken and the obvious concern behind emily's voice captured me. two years ago, i would have seen an ironic contradiction in this scene: a smoky lounge, alcohol, talk of church, and me. the gay one. now, however, i see more humanity in this situation than i would ever have seen in many of the places i was hanging around. overshadowed by love, sympathy, and the intricate workings of daily life, our vices took a back seat to that small glimpse of truth that was ultimately of importance.
May 27, 2006
the secret life of vons
settling in santa monica for a few weeks before i find my own west hollywood pad, i thought i was safe. but that was before yesterday. i was in desperate need of a few essentials, so i made the trip to vons grocery store on lincoln boulevard. i stopped by the "eye care" isle for some contact solution and then grabbed a stick of axe effect deodorant (in defiance of the anti-pop culture side of my personality), becasue it was this week's 50% off deodorant deal. i can handle that.
after finding the short line and waiting 10 minutes longer than anyone els in queue, i stepped up to the register to check out.
"do you have a vons club card?" is all that i heard from the guy at the checkstand. unfortunately, i didn't. and i knew that little card was my only ticket to this week's 50% off deodorant deal. don't worry, this happens to me all the time. just ask nicely and the guy will swipe his own vons club card for me. and in case that doesn't work, there are always other patiently waiting customers who i can bum a card from. so i asked "do you have a card i could borrow?"
there was a pause, and i started getting scared that i would have to pay all $7 of axe effect. the checker guy began scanning the isle in front of him, looking to his right and slowly to his left. He said something, quietly, and it was good thing i was concentrating on his eye movement, or i would have missed it.
"let me ask you again" he said without making eye contact "do you have a vons club card?" and without looking, his hand moved under that check-writing platform and, palm down, slid a hidden vons club card in my direction. i looked at him, incredulously. but he din't waiver. still composed, he waited for my reply.
"um, yeah. i...do."
"slide your card then, sir."
i felt a little strange that this apparently invaluable piece of plastic was treated with such contraband connotations. but i was happy, at least, that i only paid for half the axe effect. the guy didn't say anything else, and i obviously didn't offer a thanks, afraid of even acknowledging that anything had even happened. silently, we finished the rest of the transaction.
slowly and discreetly, i slid the the plastic back towards the guy. there is no way i wanted to be the one caught handling the goods. it was a little to intimidating for me.
as soon as the card was placed in front of him, and without taking his eyes off the next customer in line, the checker said calmy "that's yours" and went on checking the next customer. i took the card and ran. i wasn't about to find out what would happen if the wrong person found a vons club card in my possession. i don't know what would have happened. but i assure you, it wouldn't have been good.
after finding the short line and waiting 10 minutes longer than anyone els in queue, i stepped up to the register to check out.
"do you have a vons club card?" is all that i heard from the guy at the checkstand. unfortunately, i didn't. and i knew that little card was my only ticket to this week's 50% off deodorant deal. don't worry, this happens to me all the time. just ask nicely and the guy will swipe his own vons club card for me. and in case that doesn't work, there are always other patiently waiting customers who i can bum a card from. so i asked "do you have a card i could borrow?"
there was a pause, and i started getting scared that i would have to pay all $7 of axe effect. the checker guy began scanning the isle in front of him, looking to his right and slowly to his left. He said something, quietly, and it was good thing i was concentrating on his eye movement, or i would have missed it.
"let me ask you again" he said without making eye contact "do you have a vons club card?" and without looking, his hand moved under that check-writing platform and, palm down, slid a hidden vons club card in my direction. i looked at him, incredulously. but he din't waiver. still composed, he waited for my reply.
"um, yeah. i...do."
"slide your card then, sir."
i felt a little strange that this apparently invaluable piece of plastic was treated with such contraband connotations. but i was happy, at least, that i only paid for half the axe effect. the guy didn't say anything else, and i obviously didn't offer a thanks, afraid of even acknowledging that anything had even happened. silently, we finished the rest of the transaction.
slowly and discreetly, i slid the the plastic back towards the guy. there is no way i wanted to be the one caught handling the goods. it was a little to intimidating for me.
as soon as the card was placed in front of him, and without taking his eyes off the next customer in line, the checker said calmy "that's yours" and went on checking the next customer. i took the card and ran. i wasn't about to find out what would happen if the wrong person found a vons club card in my possession. i don't know what would have happened. but i assure you, it wouldn't have been good.
May 23, 2006
May 15, 2006
May 13, 2006
i HEART marfa
and let me tell you why. here are a few things to do in town:
get up for a breakfast at austin street cafe. the perfect blend of country simplicity and modernist sensability. the food is delicious too.
go for the early tour at the chinati foundation. view the installation works of donald judd, john chamberlain, and ilya kabakov. the afternoon tour includes pieces by dan flavin and john wesley. beautiful, perfect.
grab a coffee at the marfa book company. an extensive list of art titles combined with the usual bookstore fare in a store which also hosts its own minimalist gallery.
keep an eye out for your own celebrity sighting. films from elizabeth taylor's classic giant to an art film by the band secret machines have been filmed in marfa. currently, both the coen brothers and p.t. anderson are shooting in the area.
visit the marfa ballroom, an old dancehall-turned-gallery space. the most exciting news about this gallery is their collaboration with moma to create the first fine art-based drive-in theater. included in the line-up this fall will be the wind, a silent film that will be accompanied by live orchestration.
after dinner, drive 8 miles out east to see the marfa mystery lights. the source of these desert lights continues to remain a mystery to locals and scientists, even though reports of these floating spectacles have continued night after night for centuries.
when the day is done, crash at the hip thunderbird hotel. a renovated mid-century roadside hotel, this hipness doesn't miss a beat. relax by the pool or fire pit, borrow a turntable and vinyl from the front desk, or even a check out a typewriter for catching up on tardy correspondences. and enjoy. enjoy marfa.
get up for a breakfast at austin street cafe. the perfect blend of country simplicity and modernist sensability. the food is delicious too.
go for the early tour at the chinati foundation. view the installation works of donald judd, john chamberlain, and ilya kabakov. the afternoon tour includes pieces by dan flavin and john wesley. beautiful, perfect.
grab a coffee at the marfa book company. an extensive list of art titles combined with the usual bookstore fare in a store which also hosts its own minimalist gallery.keep an eye out for your own celebrity sighting. films from elizabeth taylor's classic giant to an art film by the band secret machines have been filmed in marfa. currently, both the coen brothers and p.t. anderson are shooting in the area.
visit the marfa ballroom, an old dancehall-turned-gallery space. the most exciting news about this gallery is their collaboration with moma to create the first fine art-based drive-in theater. included in the line-up this fall will be the wind, a silent film that will be accompanied by live orchestration.
after dinner, drive 8 miles out east to see the marfa mystery lights. the source of these desert lights continues to remain a mystery to locals and scientists, even though reports of these floating spectacles have continued night after night for centuries.
when the day is done, crash at the hip thunderbird hotel. a renovated mid-century roadside hotel, this hipness doesn't miss a beat. relax by the pool or fire pit, borrow a turntable and vinyl from the front desk, or even a check out a typewriter for catching up on tardy correspondences. and enjoy. enjoy marfa.
marfa
the last time i felt like this, i was playing an admittedly immature drinking game with a small mismatched group of new friends on the balcony of a hostel in northwest italy, overlooking the sea. sometimes, being alone brings feeling of happiness and relief. sometimes, the emotions creep towards a melancholy joy, or a bittersweet contemplative quietness. on that night, any of those feelings was tempered with a rush of excitement from the familiar and brief kinship with those around me.
tonight, rolling into a dusty mountain-desert town in the middle of western texas, i had no idea what i was looking for, and no idea what i would find. usually, when i'm traveling, i'm happy enough to get a kitschy mom-and-pop motel and a local restaurant with food that is at least decent. tonight, i didn't eat. tonight, my room and board are less mom-and-pop and more aunt-and-uncle visiting from san francisco (which is a treat because they usually travel to new york or overseas, never here).
marfa, texas is an oasis. although it lay, unassuming, between brush and rock, and the only water in sight is the shiny blue pool out my window, the town offers rest for another sort.
at this moment, i'm sitting before my desk in my room at the thunderbird hotel, listening to a vinyl edition of dylan's blonde on blonde. the front desk had a stack-o-matic and various records (as well as an available typewriter and various well-picked dvd titles) available for guests. someone out there was thinking correctly about the needs of the particular guests at this comfortable, happy, hip little hotel.
my vespa ride today was long and hot. the lights of the local eateries were shutting off as i chugged into town, so the only food would have been a frozen burrito at the gas station down the street. i opted to forget about eating. across the street, the hotel has set up a new little bar. a beer is just what i needed.
this town would be nothing if it weren't for the chinati foundation. now, artists and creatives worldwide have descended on marfa texas, population 2100, turning small corners and forlorn spaces into works of art, galleries, and even a trendy little hotel. and that is the reason why, tonight as i drank my beer, i was sitting with an intern from virginia, a girl from nyc who was back to visit, an artist-in-residence from germany, and a girl from australia. certainly not what i expected in this small texas town. but certainly this was the type of unexpected meeting that stretches my nerves, tweaks my curiosity, and shoots through me a touch of excitement for all the undiscovered secrets the world has to offer.
-----------------
tonight, my playlist includes these vinyl selections:
bob dylan//blonde on blonde
harry belafonte//calypso
the muppet movie//original soundtrack recording
ian&sylvia//northern journey
david bowie//let's dance
tonight, rolling into a dusty mountain-desert town in the middle of western texas, i had no idea what i was looking for, and no idea what i would find. usually, when i'm traveling, i'm happy enough to get a kitschy mom-and-pop motel and a local restaurant with food that is at least decent. tonight, i didn't eat. tonight, my room and board are less mom-and-pop and more aunt-and-uncle visiting from san francisco (which is a treat because they usually travel to new york or overseas, never here).
marfa, texas is an oasis. although it lay, unassuming, between brush and rock, and the only water in sight is the shiny blue pool out my window, the town offers rest for another sort.
at this moment, i'm sitting before my desk in my room at the thunderbird hotel, listening to a vinyl edition of dylan's blonde on blonde. the front desk had a stack-o-matic and various records (as well as an available typewriter and various well-picked dvd titles) available for guests. someone out there was thinking correctly about the needs of the particular guests at this comfortable, happy, hip little hotel.
my vespa ride today was long and hot. the lights of the local eateries were shutting off as i chugged into town, so the only food would have been a frozen burrito at the gas station down the street. i opted to forget about eating. across the street, the hotel has set up a new little bar. a beer is just what i needed.
this town would be nothing if it weren't for the chinati foundation. now, artists and creatives worldwide have descended on marfa texas, population 2100, turning small corners and forlorn spaces into works of art, galleries, and even a trendy little hotel. and that is the reason why, tonight as i drank my beer, i was sitting with an intern from virginia, a girl from nyc who was back to visit, an artist-in-residence from germany, and a girl from australia. certainly not what i expected in this small texas town. but certainly this was the type of unexpected meeting that stretches my nerves, tweaks my curiosity, and shoots through me a touch of excitement for all the undiscovered secrets the world has to offer.
tonight, my playlist includes these vinyl selections:
bob dylan//blonde on blonde
harry belafonte//calypso
the muppet movie//original soundtrack recording
ian&sylvia//northern journey
david bowie//let's dance
argentina
scenes from argentina:
1//paragliding in la cumbre
2//the strange shrine of the difunta correa
3//breakfast in argentina: coffee and croissant
4//argentina road trip 2006!
5//mendoza hot springs
6//mendoza wine tasing: bodega la garde
7//back to buenos aires
8//a night at the opera, the beautiful teatro colon
1//paragliding in la cumbre
2//the strange shrine of the difunta correa
3//breakfast in argentina: coffee and croissant
4//argentina road trip 2006!
5//mendoza hot springs
6//mendoza wine tasing: bodega la garde
7//back to buenos aires
8//a night at the opera, the beautiful teatro colon
May 2, 2006
zander and mate
on the road to mendoza, zander and i took part of the argentine ritual of drinking mate (it's pronounced ma-tay). in the past, the yerba was known to offer medicinal or healing powers. now, it's just a cultural ritual bringing together friends from all walks of argentine life. and it's delicious...once you get past the distinct hay-farm-horse taste it seems to have. let's just say it's an acquired taste.
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