Saturday, December 22, 2007

Sent from Blackberry Pearl: Love the winter/Hate the winter

December 22, 2007

Rebecca and I are going sledding on Christmas after watching Sweeney Todd. Today it's a balmy 32 degrees, with wet Lake Tahoe like snow.

The car on my left spun out and just missed hitting me this morning. He is on the side of the road. I came to a complete stop after sliding at 35 mph on the freeway - 8 minutes late to work, car in one piece and unhurt.

Two years ago I flipped my recently paid off Nissan Altima on the same stretch of 35 NW. I'll never forget climbing out of an upside down car. It was all in slow motion, just like in the movies. No one that saw the accident stopped to help, especially the trucker who ran me off the road. Several concerned citizens that saw the car upside down on the embankment did stop to help me climb from the wreckage.

At this point, I'm just happy to be in one piece.

Friday, December 21, 2007

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Only in Minneapolis.

Hollywood Hogan

Yesterday I had an only in Minneapolis moment. While buying my brother's Christmas present at Fifth Element in Uptown, I walked past Slug from Atmosphere. I really didn't have much to say to him. I thought about getting his autograph for my brother. I know he would have appreciated, but I just can't bring myself to interrupt someone's day without a valid enough reason.

For Example, many years back I met Hulk Hogan at the Old Spaghetti Factory in Hollywood. I was a HUGE Hogan fan as a kid and I was still debating whether I should interrupt his meal. Growing up in Pacific Grove, where we border Pebble Beach and Carmel, it was not uncommon to meet celebrities. But Hulk Hogan was a little different. He was an icon of my adolescence. While playing the idea in my head of what I'd say, my dinner was interrupted by a phone call from my friend Emilia. The moment she heard Hogan was eating two tables away, Emilia demanded to speak to him. I wasn't about to interrupt his dinner so she could talk to him but what came next changed that.

Emilia: Come on, I want to talk to him.
Me: No, you caaan't talk to Hulk Hogan.
Emilia: What, are you not a man? Are you too much of a wimp to hand him the phone? Yeah, that's what I thought.
Me: Yeah, fine. You can talk to him.

Me: Mr. Hogan, I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner. But my friend Emilia is on the phone and she really wants to talk to you.
Hogan: No problem, kid. It happens all the time.


I wasn't sure here what he meant, do his meals get interrupted all the time? I'm sure this is true. Or is it that overzealous fans want to speak to him on the phone? I never asked. Hogan took my phone and talked to her for a few minutes. I'm not exactly sure what was said between them, but Hogan ended the conversation with, "Stanford Sucks! It was nice talking to you, Emilia." We tried to buy him a drink for his trouble, but he said he doesn't drink in public, which was something I could respect. Yes, all it took was a little challenge to my masculinity to push me towards the decision I wanted to make anyway. That was my only in Hollywood moment. I'm not sure I would have gotten the same experience or even a similar story from interrupting Slug's conversation, so I just continued on with my day.

By the way, yes, Hogan looked almost exactly like the photo above at the restaurant - black painted on beard and all.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Weekly Rundown of Links

Bay Area Links
Oakland Tribune: Danville artist creating a sculpture monument of human rights leaders
San Francisco Chronicle: Doctoral students turning down UC due to inadequate aid packages
Porn prince wants to build kinky condos in Armory
S.F. leaders hear about Portland's approach to homelessness
San Jose Mercury: Toy guns draw real cops to San Jose Wendy's
Twin Cities Links
Star Tribune: Minnesotan Diablo Cody's 'Juno' knocked up -- and out of the park
Vita.mn: Alexis on the Sexes: Leapin' libidos!
MPR: Minneapolis officers fired on, not hurt
TC Daily Planet: Hard Times re-opens!
MN Monitor: The Biblical Roots of LGBT Oppression

Doomtree Blowout 3 Review

Doomtree Blowout 3

Doomtree is by far my favorite local, with his infectious smile and hype attitude, I wouldn't pay to see any of them on their own. Not that they are all not talented, but together they can create magic. I first saw them open at Mel Gibson and the Pants record release show a couple years back. The obvious love each of them has for the other reminded me of Quannum MCs - Lyrics Born, Lateef the Truth Speaker, Gift of Gab and Joyo Velarde, though Doomtree's style is nothing like the Bay Area's hip-hop heroes - where Quannum is funk fused Doomtree is punk rock.

They all have his or her own style that together - in tandems of twos, threes and sometimes more - mesh perfectly together. Dessa's blend of soul, latin flava and spoken word is a perfect match for Cecil Otter's mix of spoken word, classic story telling MCing. Sims party rocking, big beat energy is a perfect balance for either Mike Mictlan or P.O.S. Mictlan can act as Robin to P.O.S's Batman with utter ease. It's obvious that most of them have been friends since their early teens. Rarely is Mictlan alone on the stage. More often instead he provides the obvious direction to either Sims or P.O.S spitfire delivery.

If I had one complaint, it's that Dessa should have a more active role in the group. Her energy would provide calming to the rambunctious boys the same way Joyo does with the Quannum MCs, minus the overplayed neo-soul that Quannum has been bringing these days. Friday night was no different. It was obvious that at times the boys - Mictlan, Sims and P.O.S - would get ahead of themselves. It appears that nothing could get Cecil Otter worked up into a frenzy. The balance on the stage was not always there. Banging into each other both lyrically and physically transitions and delivery was not always on spot. Dessa would bring something to rein that in.

Beyond the at times chaotic presence on the stage, every other aspect of this group brings it nightly refusing - yes, it feels like a concerted effort - to leave you unmoved. The production by the stable of Doomtree talented beat makers brings out the best in each MCs talents. It was nice to see the Doomtree producers get a moment in the sun, introducing one of the final sets, with a mash up of turntable skills and live on-the-spot drum machine driven beats. It was a perfect prologue to the oncoming MCs.

Minneapolis loves Doomtree and Doomtree loves Minneapolis. Most of the audience had memorized the lyrics - reciting them in conjunction with each MC - even for tracks from the yet to be released Cecil Otter album. Throughout the night, in unison hands would rise forming the Doomtree's winged signs It's as if the audience is a member of an exclusive club that only they, Minnesotans, are aware exists. Doomtree feeds into this with call and response phrases that are true to the Twin Cities. When P.O.S asks "Where you at?" in the track Living Slightly Larger, Mictlan responded, "Minneapolis," which brought a smile to P.O.S's face and an eruption of cheers from the audience.

The mutual affection is not taken for granted by Doomtree. P.O.S's punk roots is obvious in the makeup of the audience, a hodgepodge from of across the board, piercings, mohawks, hip-hop kids, and indie kids all across the board. Like most hip-hop Twin Cities shows, the crowd is mostly white kids from the suburbs. Only this eclectic mix of characters on the stage bring his or her own element to the audience attracting an only in Minnesota vibe.

No Dance Band. Yes Hard Times Cafe.

Tonight I had every intention in meeting up with Maren and Kos at the Varsity Theater for Dance Band and Mel Gibson and the Pants. Of the two bands, MGP is one of my favorite local bands only trailing Doomtree, but something has to be said for the way Dance Band makes hipsters move.

No one in the Twin Cities moves a dance floor the way Dance Band does. All inhibitions are lost and regardless of the venue, Turf Club, Hexagon or the Triple Rock, dance floors hop in rhythm, everyone knows all of the words and are unafraid to sing them back at frontman Captain Octagon. Each band member dates on an split personality from another planet, with costume to match. It's a site to be seen and experienced.

Unfortunately, thanks to a late night at First Ave. for Doomtree and a long day at work, I fell asleep for a power nap and missed the show. I arrive just in time to catch Maren as she was leaving for the grand reopening of Hard Times Cafe. I was glad to see word got out and Hard Times fans came out in droves. The line was out the door when we arrived at just after 1 AM. It didn't take long for me to break out my camera to capture the moments.

It was obvious just how much everyone missed Hard Times, as it was still standing room only an hour after we arrived. The quesdadilla was just as I remembered it and the salsa was perfect. The delay in being served was to be expected with the number of patrons. It felt like a family reunion. People were hugging. The chatter was deafening at times. Smiles could be seen at any turn and laughs could be heard from across the room.

I'm sure that the crowds won't remain this big for too long. I'm looking forward to quiet nights - I say this in jest, because there's never a completely quiet night at Hard Times - with a chai and vegan muffin in hand as I study for an impending test. Until then, the eclectic crowds alone can keep me entertained late into the night just as they did tonight.
Hard Times Cafe: Always Open and Open to AllHard Times Cafe: Always Open and Open to All
Hard Times Cafe: Always Open and Open to All
Hard Times Cafe: Always Open and Open to AllHard Times Cafe: Always Open and Open to All

Video From Hard Times Cafe Reopening