Monthly Archives: April 2010

I’m so tired

I remember reading a few years ago on Metafilter that tons of people who had gone to SXSWi came home sick. They jokingly called it SxSARS. After going to SXSW for the first time I understand. Only this week have I felt back to my normal self and not so affected by my lack-of-sleep hangover.

You can read all of The Press’ coverage on the Village Voice’s collective SXSW blog. Here’s my Thursday recap, Friday recap, Saturday recap and my favorite showcase.

Favorite WTF moment: CLH and I went plebian-style. We had no badges and no wristbands* so we had to wait in line for 45 minutes at a one-in/one-out show where the headliners were Ray Davies and Roky Erickson with Okkervil River, all the while big shots with credentials got to walk right on in. A chatty Australian guy was in line in front of us and was being super entertaining and friendly so when I noticed he had a wristband I pointed out to him that he should just go on in. Half an hour later he was getting tossed out by security, along with another dude who was kicking the air like a girl, presumably for being a drunk doofus. CLH and I then tried sheepishly to disassociate ourselves from him, as if we’d be judged for having a 10-minute conversation with a stranger in line.

That wasn’t the WTF moment though. Finally we got in and the place was packed. Davies had just started playing so we tried to push our way through the crowd to the middle. Now, we aren’t assholes. We weren’t trying to rush the stage or anything, just get a decent viewing spot. We ended up settling in the middle, about halfway between the front and the back of the venue. When we stopped, this middle-aged guy next to us with a badge around his neck was using his hands to kind of shoo us away. I had Hearos in and couldn’t hear what the guy was saying so I asked “WHAT?” I still couldn’t hear him so I took the Hearos out. “What? What? WHAT?” He looked agitated, but I though he was just trying to yell over the music until I realized what he was saying:

“Who do you think you are?! You can’t just walk right in here and stand here. Go find your own place to stand. Fuck off!”

I see this is the first concert you’ve ever attended, sir. Umm… yes I can. That’s what people DO at shows. It’s general admission, dude. Just ‘cuz you dropped $700 on some laminated paper doesn’t mean you don’t have to commune with the oi polloi here in the pit.

Then he kind of like moved all around to give himself a 1-foot protective barrier of space, which was the funniest part of all. And then, about 30 minutes into the 2-hour show, he and his Affliction-clad female companion left, and I took his spot.

*But we did have kick-ass VIP access to the VVM party, and thus, free tacos and open bar.

Big fkn deal

Waxen, flazen, down to there

How much do I love this: apparently, Mo’Nique is an infamous non-shaver. As Screeching Weasel would say, her legs are hairy logs! And I adore her.

I’ve been an adamant non-shaver for a while now. Granted, I’m blonde, and the hair on my legs is sparse so it’s barely noticeable. But I have dry skin, and because of my trail running I also usually have poison ivy or thorn scratches somewhere on my legs so shaving just isn’t worth it for me.

About once a month I get a full Brazilian wax. I don’t do this for any kind of porny beauty ecstatic — I get Brazilians because I live in Houston where it’s 90º and 90% humidity nine months a year and I’m just more comfortable without that extra layer.

And shaving under the arms is a pointless endeavor — most women have a perpetual 5 o’clock shadow there. So I get occasional underarm waxes too, and once a week I’ll use the Epilady under my arms. This is the best way to get long-lasting results. But for the most part I’m happy with the hair there, and while I’m not purposely trying to scandalize anyone I do kind of enjoy it when someone finds out I don’t shave, since I’m quite girly in other aspects.

Is it a contradiction to wax all my hair off of one body part and let it grow freely in another? No more a contradiction than any other Western beauty standards.

Lousiana Man

Been on a Cajun/zydeco kick this past week, thanks in no small part to my boss at the paper, who suggested we write about it. I had always known EastTex had a strong zydeco history but even with my French minor I was dumb to the fact that zydeco = les haricots. Language always fascinates me.

Patriots*

Teabaggers were protesting downtown yesterday because it was tax day. Wonder if they drove in their cars on roads (paid for by tax money) to get to Discovery Green (also paid for by tax money).

Last weekend at the BMW motorcycle rally in Llano a couple of guys showed up with the Gadsden flag and this one hanging from their tents. “Don’t Tread On Me. Unless you’re a maker of fine German motorworks.” I wanted to take a picture but there was no way to do it covertly, and besides, they were drunk and I didn’t want them to throw me in the river.

More on the moto trip later. We camped, and carried everything with us on the Beemer.

* Insert air quotes here

She’s a hurricane in all kind of weather

I am sick of winter and sick of school, and although both are almost over all I can do is dream of our annual pilgrimage to Florida where I plan to do nothing more than lay under a beach umbrella every day with a book NOT required for my degree.

Going to iFest this weekend. I’ve actually never been (I know, shameful) so I’m going now and I’m gonna write about it for work. The theme this year is the Caribbean, so Chris Gray and I wrote our weekly HSSS on music inspired by the archipelago. Calypso, ska, exotica.

In the story I obsess about Tacita Dean, the very best Beach Boys song and how I only came to learn in my 20s that Buster Poindexter was David Johansen.

You already know how I feel about Julie Andrews, but Petula Clark is awesome. Read about her controversial duet with Belafonte here.

Eight arms to hold you

Octopi are so clever. I love them.

Two hearts, two hearts

The Tacita Dean kick continues, unabated.

I was going to start by bringing up the one thing in your work that I know has influenced my own work, which is the green ray, because I put that little bit of dialogue in Middlesex about people talking about a green ray, which I learned about from you, not having seen your film The Green Ray. I think you said that you got the green ray in the film, but it never appears in any single frame. But you can see it momentarily when the film is running. Is that right?

Jeffrey Eugenides interviews Tacita Dean for BOMB Magazine, circa 2006.

More info on the green ray.

What is tiki?

It was CLH who turned me on to the Polynesia Pop craze, but it fits in perfectly with my love of all things Midcentury. Most people don’t understand the Hawaiian shirts, cocktail culture and exotica music. The DVD of Tiki looks like a good primer to explain how Polynesia went from culture to kitsch in the 1930s and ’40s.

At Hukilau 2010 in June (our annual pilgrimage to Florida) I’ll be volunteering at the door for the world premier of this documentary. There’s a sneak peek below. At around 9:34 you can see brief footage of CLH and I sailing on the Tikki Beach at Hukilau 2004, the “Hurricane Hukilau”. There’s also footage of many of the places we visited during our month in French Polynesia, including the tallest tiki in the world.

What is Tiki // The DVD OF TIKI from Van Hagen on Vimeo.

My Blakean Year

Apparently I went to a different Patti Smith show last night than every one else in this town.

Here’s Culturemap’s review, and 29-95′s recap.

I didn’t give her a negative review, per se. I just said that she seemed a little lost when it came time for her to speak off the cuff. However, she was like Jekell and Hyde (in the best possible way) when she’d switch from ad libbing on stage to performing her music or reading her written work. Her singing voice sounds as good, if not better, than it did 30 years ago.

I still think she’s amazing — but I found it tacky and awkward that she flubbed not once but twice the name of the organization who brought her to Houston, especially since she’s known the founding director since 2003. I was also unmoved by her “spontaneous” group-sing of “Because The Night” since six months ago I posted a video of her doing the exact same thing in London. On one hand, she has been traveling extensively in support of her book, but on the other hand, she’s also a 30-year music veteran who has gone on dozens of tours and played hundreds of concerts, so that excuse doesn’t entirely fly with me. BUT WHATEVER. Apparently it’s a sin to even remotely criticize her, since I’m the only blogger in Houston who did and I’ve gotten railed on my überfans for doing so.

So, in penance to all the fans who couldn’t be there last night, here is my paraphrased version of the heartbreaking story she told about Jeff Buckley:

Smith said Buckley was a die-hard perfectionist, never completely satisfied with his work, which he felt was never complete. Buckley sang on Smith’s album “Gone Again.” They recorded together at Electric Ladyland studios, and when it was Buckley’s time to sing his voice just lifted the entire room. Patti and the others in her band were so moved by his talent and Patti spoke about how she especially was inspired by his performance.

Later, Patti found him in the green room, laying on the couch weeping. She asked him what was wrong and he replied to her, “I just wish I could have done it better.”

Rockers vs Mods

I was the Mod in a photoshoot Monday for the poster for the upcoming Houston Rockers vs Mods Rally. See more outtakes here. I hope our photographer, Jamie, has some mad Photoshop skillz because I look like a raging goofball in half of them.

I had just met Crystal, the Rocker girl, about five minutes before the shoot, and then we had to sit there and stare at each other menacingly. I couldn’t stop giggling. The awesome part was that she rode her own bike, and I rode mine. We’re legit!

It is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission

The other day Matt K and I were talking about regret. I never had any for a long time. Decades. And then I had a ton. There is still wishful thinking and a sense of time wasted. I did a lot with my time, but there was so much I never even attempted because I thought for sure I would be bad at it. Or good at it. This is why I never learned to ollie very well and why I didn’t pursue writing as a legit career until I was about 28. At 28, I had been freelancing steadily for 12 years and publishing a zine, and I still was under the mistaken belief that I did not have what it took to be a writer. Matt convinced me I should try, and I did, and I realized about three weeks into “trying” that could have been writing full time for years, and my cowardice — fear of my own ambition got in the way. And that is my regret. That I lived without a sense of permission for so long.

Words I really needed to read just now, in a time of self-doubt, from a writer and a woman I admire.

Minsk meets Cub meets Vespa

In the middle of watching the Top Gear: Vietnam Special. But don’t read the link like I did, because spoilers abound.

The entire episode is available on Youtube.

Captain of the SS Sassy

Fourteen-year-old fashion blogger Style Rookie has posted hundred of scans (well, photos, but they’re high-res) of about a dozen issues of long-dead feminist/alternative/brainy girls’ magazine Sassy.