We caught Moving Colors last Thursday at The Harbor, and were treated to a really fine set. The band played with a lot of energy and enthusiasm matched only by the crowd. I was impressed that group performed tight arrangements of a number of hit songs, but never seemed over rehearsed. Moving Colors also managed to move well through a diverse playlist of tunes from artists like Journey, U2, and Stevie Ray Vaughan to Beyonce and The Commodores.
One reason Moving Colors impressed me is that they managed to keep me interesting in songs I really don’t like, such as Christiana Aguilara’s “Ain’t No Other Man” and Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing.” Tunes I do like came off pretty well too. I enjoyed their version of Prince's "1999" and their little Michael Jackson tribute. They did interesting rendition of U2’s “Vertigo,” adding some drumming on plastic tubs. The video I took of them (that I can't seem to upload to Blogger) doesn’t do much justice to how they performed the tune.
During the set, members of the band contributed to a painting in the background. The painting was only mentioned briefly once, but it was interesting to see. The beach ball bouncing around the audience was an interesting way to get people to recognize their website name, but it became comical watching people fail to move the ball along. An elderly lady in front of me must have gotten knocked in the noggin about four times.
My only knock on the performance was that they seemed to hide the sax player, whose name I cannot find, in the back of the stage. I suspect he is not a regular member of the band since they mentioned the absence of another musician, but this guy could wail. He made a huge difference in the sound, reminding me of Charlie DeChant from Hall and Oates. There are only a handful of horn players who alone can make a group sound better (it is difficult to follow in the footsteps of Clarence Clemons). Many horn players are relegated to soloing on a couple of tunes and tossed off stage for most of the set. The group would do well to feature him a bit more.
If you get a chance to catch Moving Colors, do it. If you need to make room in your calendar, do it. You are very likely to have a good time with this fun and exciting band.
Well, it has been awhile since I updated here, and there isn't much to say. I went for some time not submitting work for a variety of reasons, mostly because I was very busy with school. Now that I am home for the summer, I have begun sending work out again.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that my poem "Cares" was published at Pond Ripples Magazine in their May issue. The nice editor had accepted another piece from a batch I had sent her, and I had assumed she was not interested in the other poems. Now I am in the unusual position of having to withdraw the piece from a submission elsewhere.
This morning read an email saying that my poem "Moments Before the Voice Lesson" has been accepted at The Houston Literary Review. Now I have to find a halfway decent picture to send them.
Wrestling Light (my Geocities website) is going away soon, so I have been making plans for a new site, one that will likely be a bit leaner. I plan to include a page to list publications with links to where my work can be found on the web. I'll place a link here when that happens. Feel free to drop me a line with any suggestions.
When this flick was first advertised, I thought that it looked interesting. Then in the chaos of life, I forgot about it. Now I wish I could get it out of my head. Forgetting Sarah Marshall is as terrible as a movie can get. As one is a long list of romantic comedies, it is neither romantic nor funny.
The absurd plot involves Peter Bretter (played by Jason Segal) who takes a vacation in Hawaii after his girlfriend, Sarah Marshall (Kristen Bell), breaks up with him. Unfortunately, Sarah and her (sort of) new boyfriend, rock star Aldous Snow (Russell Brand) is not only in Hawaii, but also in pretty much every place Peter goes. Hotel clerk Rachel Jansen (Mila Kunis) helps Peter have a good time (even putting him in an expensive suite he cannot afford in a move that does nothing but advance the story) and the two become attracted to each other. Yip-freakin-ee.
In the first five minutes, viewers are treated to Jason Segal’s penis three times. First time was chuckle worthy. After that, it was just stupid. We get one more shot before the movie is over. Before one accuses me of being a prude, I could help but think that we don’t get to see any female parts (unless you count the picture of Mila Kunis topless, which I don’t because it is not real).
I suppose the intent here might be to make fun of the sex as love idea in movies, but what we get in the sex scenes is really some sort of comic porn. Well, maybe not so much because it isn’t really funny and nothing to get aroused by (unless the viewer is an adolescent). What we get is at best a silly story with lots of uncomfortable jokes about sex and Segal’s member on screen four times. The subplots involving the brother in law and the newlywed couple were more interesting, though they distracted from the overall story.
One of the bits of hype for this film is that it came from the producers of The 40 Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up. I haven’t yet seen the latter movie, but The 40 Year Old Virgin was hilarious and clever. Forgetting Sarah Marshall was just goofy. But now I can see why it garnered nominations for Teen Choice awards. In its few good moments, it is juvenile.
On a hot July evening, as I sat at The Harbor in Rockwall, I came some realizations about the music of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. It has always seemed laid back, enjoyable in its way, but not really my thing. Something that is nice in tiny doses, but not for long periods of time. It occurred to me as I listened to the tribute band Petty Theft that I had never listened to Tom Petty for more than a few minutes at a time, probably during some kind of rock block on one of the local stations.
Not that Petty Theft couldn’t pull off a fine set. They managed to get through much of the better known tunes adequately, though they also left off a handful of notables like “You Got Lucky and “Breakdown.” People in the audience who were real fans of Tom Petty seemed to enjoy the performance. I noticed a few singing along even with tunes I had only heard a couple of times.They even spiced things up with a couple songs by the Byrds in the middle of the show.
There were a couple technical problems. Particularly in the beginning of the show, the vocals were not harmonized as tightly as one might hope with a group that’s been around as long as this one has. Also, I got the impression that they didn’t want the audience to hear any solos since when the time came for one – on both guitar and keyboards—it was either very low or couldn’t be heard.
If you are a fan of Tom Petty, these guys are probably worth checking out. They seem to get many gigs in the DFW metroplex. This was third year at The Harbor, and I suspect they’ll be back next year. But I may skip that show.
I have not been much of a fan of Michael Jackson since the 80s. I had a roommate my freshman year in college who played a couple of MJ albums and The Jacksons’ Live!quite often, and I was only tired of them when I wanted to sleep, which didn’t happen all that much. But around the time Jackson was making his best album, I started a years-long odyssey that including listening to no secular music (the two are not really related). Yet Jackson was so popular at the time, it was next to impossible to miss hearing songs like “Billie Jean,” “Beat It,” and “Bad.”
And today, I am torn about his passing. His music doesn’t have the same impact it had on me many years ago, but I cannot deny his talent or how well those songs still stand up. People make fun of Jackson’s music, but those who came after him are simply posers. He was weird as hell, and I’m pretty sure that most of the accusations about his unsavory dealings with children are true. However, he managed to be a sought out entertainer.
Jackson, perhaps unwittingly, managed to polarize people interested in the entertainment industry. While many are sure that he bought his way out of his molestation cases, there are plenty who are so devoted to Michael Jackson the icon they cannot conceive of his guilt, even in the face of strong evidence.
Though I loathe celebrity gossip, I find myself wanting to know more about Michael Jackson. I want to know the truth not only about what happened between he and those children, but also about why this guy felt the need to create a zoo/theme park of his home or the need to alter his body to such grotesque depths. And I must admit I’m interested in the odd events of his death (sounds like movie in the making).
But I’m pretty sure we won’t find out much about Jackson. At least for several years, I don’t expect us to learn anything useful. I do hope he’s at rest.
Watched the Clint Eastwood movie Gran Torino the other night and enjoyed it quite a bit. Eastwood plays Walt Kowalksi, an angry and racist vet of the Korean War who has just buried his wife. A Hmong family moves in next door and when the teenage boy tries to steal his beloved car, events are set in motion that transform Walt and the young boy Thao (played superbly by Bee Vang).
While I am not sure this movie is as strong overall as films like Unforgiven,Mystic River or his moving World War II pictures, it is really good. Eastwood’s performance is so fine, I don’t think anyone could imagine another actor in the role after seeing this. In addition, Ahney Her, as Thao’s sister is magnificent, nearly stealing the show from Eastwood. Eastwood’s attention to detail, particularly the elements of Hmong culture, make the movie all that more interesting without detracting from the narrative.
What makes the movie most interesting, I think, are Walt’s conflicts. He is, at first, a man who just wants people (including his grown children) to leave him alone. But we find that despite his racism, he can care about neighbors. Though Walt has no desire for the church or the priest that tries to harangue him into confession, he does find its value when the priest can think past his easy answers. Walt is proud of his service in the war, but admits that killing is a messy, terrible business.
The climax of Gran Torino surprised me a little, but in a very good way. I felt the last few minutes were a little slow, and perhaps a little cliché, but not so much they mar this otherwise really fine film. At 78, Eastwood is still a great actor and fantastic director who always produces top-notch work.
Jerry Diaz and Hanna’s Reef call what they do “Texas Beach Music.” So it was with some hope that I went to hear them play during Concert by the Lake series at The Harbor in Rockwall. While I found much of the evening enjoyable overall, there were a few disappointments. Someof the problems, I can’t fault the band for. We arrived only a few minutes before the show, and so we sat far back, just over the hill. Not only could I not see the band unless I was standing, I think the sound from there was not as good for me as it might have been for those a little closer. This snag was aided by the fact that the steel drums did not seem to mix properly with the rest of the band through some of the set and that people around me seemed more interested in just hanging out and talking than listening to the music. The group played credible, if sometimes plodding, versions of what were mostly Jimmy Buffet songs. Though the lead guitar seemed to disappear during my favorite Buffet tune, “Come Monday,” and some versions came off a bit slow, the starting tune, “Cheeseburger in Paradise,” came off well. And it was nice to listen to some Buffet songs I had not heard in a long time like “Pencil Thin Mustache” and “Son of a Son of a Sailor.”
After playing so much Jimmy Buffet, I had begun to believe Hanna’s Reef was a tribute band, they performed a nice version of “Under the Boardwalk” and an adequate rendition of “Montego Bay.” As one might expect, the crowd did enjoy “Five O’clock Somewhere.” Though on his website, Diaz lists four Beach Boys tunes in his repertoire, the only one they played was the awful “Kokomo.” Maybe it is just me, but that is certainly one of the worst songs recorded by a truly great band. It makes me queasy that so many cover bands feel they have to play it.
The group did do a fine job with a couple of original tunes, “Sail Away” and “Watch the Young Girls.” The latter song was spirited and lively. It ought to be a hit.
Most of the crowd in front of me (including people on boats in the lake) seemed to be having a pretty good time listening and drinking to Jerry Diaz and Hanna’s Reef. (This was especially true of an old fat lady sipping from a pink champagne glass and waving a plastic parrot). I’m a bit disappointed that “Texas Beach Music” seems to be more about boats and drinking than actual beaches, but the evening by Lake Ray Hubbard was mostly pleasant. Especially if you are a Parrothead, I recommend checking them out.
When I was a teen and even more in college, I thought I didn’t care that much about what people thought of me. In reality, I wanted people to think I was different. That isn’t too much unlike most young people though they work hard at trying to pretend they are unique.
As an adult, I find myself keenly concerned about how others perceive me. Don’t get me wrong: I still want to buck the status quo and prove myself different from what people may expect. But I also am more and more aware of what those I work with and for may believe, accurate or not. Sadly, perception rules more than reality.
So I come to this day angry about a lot of things concerning the media. And I have to admit I must go on perception, but I think some of these people either don’t really care or are ignorant about the perception they give to others.
Last night, Artie Lange hijacked Joe Buck’s debut show. There is no other way to describe it. Already many people are making a big deal about his “course humor.” That isn’t what bothered me. I don’t particularly like his brand of shtick, but I am upset that Mr. Lange took so much of the time of the show. He didn’t allow Buck to go on to other subjects or allow either of the other guests in the segment, Paul Rudd and Jason Sudekis, to speak. Lange is a selfish prick who craves attention more than a horny dog. And the horny dog is more interesting to watch.
David Letterman has had to do a bunch of backpedaling over the ire stirred up over a couple jokes he made about the Palin family. While I’m not sure the comedian should have to apologize for what really would otherwise have been a largely forgotten and inconsequential joke, I do think he did the right thing last night in addressing this the way he did, saying that he realized that the perception was stronger than the reality of his intent. But those sponsors who have threatened to pull out and Palin really got this wrong. I wonder if Palin and her jerk husband really are that oversensitive, that stupid, or just need attention so bad they have to complain their way into the media spotlight. Hasn’t anyone told this broad that she is the one who has made her daughter’s lives worse with her own foolish mouth?
I certainly would not appreciate a joke of a sexual nature about my daughters. But Palin and her cult are so unable to read and hear that they actually assumed that Letterman meant them harm. They seemed to completely miss that the jokes were poking fun at others and not necessarily the Palins. (Well, except the slutty librarian joke, and I’m sorry Ms. Palin, you bring that on yourself.) And perhaps it is futile, in a business known for being more concerned with the moment, for Letterman to suggest that his detractors “check his record.” David Letterman has had crude jokes on his show before, but never something that would suggest sex with a fourteen year old, forced or otherwise, is acceptable.
The phrase “political correctness” makes me nervous. It has become a way for all sides of political and cultural spectrums to decry other people. But political correctness is not always about being safe, but avoiding unnecessary offense. Lange doesn’t give a damn who he insults or what he does to others. His fans who think this makes him worth praising only have half the picture. He isn’t “keeping it real” (a truly meaningless phrase). He is garnering attention for himself for no other reason than to have it. Letterman, on the other hand crosses some people’s idea of the line of good taste. But he knows that offending people just to be offensive doesn’t serve him or those who work for and with him very well.
Consider another word that has lost a great deal of its meaning in the past few years: rant. For many, when a person rants, that person is angry or upset about something and saying whatever comes to mind about whatever is creating in them emotional distress. They may say things “in the heat of the moment” that they would normally not say in an environment where they would have to be careful about their words, such as on the job or at a party with people one does not know well. They sometimes use “colorful language” and even friends can tell that the person may not be totally fair. Sometimes we need to let off steam, I’m sure, but that is what friends and close relatives are for. They understand us and help us gain perspective while trying to support us.
When I tell a student she or he is ranting in an essay, I am trying to let that person know something about how the audience is likely to perceive the message. While the opinions may have merit and the ideas well worth noting, the delivery is such that the student can only appear to others as someone, not with an opinion, but one who presents that opinion as if nothing else in the world matters, not even organization of thought or the choice of words that best communicate one’s ideas.
But the word now seems to denote that a person, by jabbering and working to be as offensive as possible, has done the world some sort of service in presenting an opinion. The truth is most of what others may praise by using the word “rant” is really only preaching to the choir, only louder.
We caught Moving Colors last Thursday at The Harbor, and were treated to a really fine set. The band played with a lot of energy and enthusiasm matched only by the crowd. I was impressed that group performed tight arrangements of a number of hit songs, but never seemed over rehearsed. Moving Colors also managed to move well through a diverse playlist of tunes from artists like Journey, U2, and Stevie Ray Vaughan to Beyonce and The Commodores. 
