I'm old. I grew up in era when AM radio played Top 40 songs and clock radios had to suffice. I would spin the vinyl on our turntable (made by Dad, no less!) but would keep current by listening to the radio. It was music- electronically produced, no doubt, but there were instruments and skill. Musicality.
As I hear the music that's popular in 2009, I have to ask: WHERE'S THE BASS? Now, there is plenty of booming goin' on, it keeps a beat and pulses through your body, but where is the finesse of someone ~playing~ a bass? The damn beat box can go forever, but I want to hear a glide down the long neck of a bass guitar.
Just recently I realized what I was missing when I heard a song from the 70s. I think it was Stevie Wonder, but I really can't remember because I was transfixed by the deep sounds from the bass. It had soul. Really. I'm not prone to hyperbole, but dang... I felt like the bass was taking me for a ride. A gentle ride that swerved and flipped but with the tenderest of movements. It was singing. I wish that most people still appreciated that skill and the emphasis was not on the 'image' of it all. The music executives are clamoring for something that *pops* (groooooaaaan) be it a handsome crooner or a chick who's barely dressed.
Is it just me, but when I fall in love with a song, it's because my hearing has taken over all other senses... I'm not watching a video, I'm not thinking: this is what's new and cool! And that brings us back to the beginning of my post: I am old.
(an old, bass-lover)
31 August 2009
28 August 2009
Not So Fast
I work in a hotel in one of the most diverse cities in the US of A. It's amazing how many different coworkers I've met from across the globe. Know anything about Eritrea? Been to Yemen lately? Talked to anyone who's been in a war? Looked into someone's eyes while they tell you that, in China, there were six people around the table for dinner, and only one bowl of rice--- so she was shipped off to Hong Kong to work as a girl? Now that's diversity.
Right now is a special time for all my friends who are Muslim because they are observing Ramadan. I just spoke with a room service server who was so quiet and withdrawn, I thought he might be sick, but no- I forgot, he's fasting. At this time of year it's basically a 12 hour fast during the day, and when sundown comes along, they break their fast. That's tough.
I have utmost respect for this part of their religious ritual, so that's why it makes me absolutely crazy when I walk into our break room, and what's sitting in the hot food line for the evening is pork chops.... and the day before: pork chops...... and some pork, fried rice for a side dish.....
To celebrate diversity there must be an awareness, and unfortunately I guess the meal planners/preparers don't get the fact that most Muslim people don't eat pork, so yes- that ham sandwich is going to untouched, too.
Right now is a special time for all my friends who are Muslim because they are observing Ramadan. I just spoke with a room service server who was so quiet and withdrawn, I thought he might be sick, but no- I forgot, he's fasting. At this time of year it's basically a 12 hour fast during the day, and when sundown comes along, they break their fast. That's tough.
I have utmost respect for this part of their religious ritual, so that's why it makes me absolutely crazy when I walk into our break room, and what's sitting in the hot food line for the evening is pork chops.... and the day before: pork chops...... and some pork, fried rice for a side dish.....
To celebrate diversity there must be an awareness, and unfortunately I guess the meal planners/preparers don't get the fact that most Muslim people don't eat pork, so yes- that ham sandwich is going to untouched, too.
27 August 2009
Foodie Groupies
I'm a fan- I really began to love Hubert Keller on 'Top Chef Masters' this past installment. I think the adoration began with the very first episode when making his dessert (for the Girl Scouts to taste and judge) he made a little mouse out of whipped cream and used almond slivers to make its ears along with a chocolate swoosh of a tail. What whimsy!!!
I live just a block from his SF restaurant, Fleur de Lys, and every so often I'll catch a glimpse of the Master as he's going to and from. The dude is unassuming and seems to be deficient of the hubris in which some of the more famous chefs marinate themselves.
I think things are going to change for Monsieur Hubert because just a couple of days ago, while trotting past Fleur de Lys, I spotted a group of tourists trying to enter through the back door of the restaurant. They had a look of trepidation as they were trying to get an OK to enter, and seemingly take some snaps of Chef. I don't think it's his style to bask in 'celebrity', but I'm sure he met them with his graciousness.... and perhaps a whipped-cream-mouse!
I live just a block from his SF restaurant, Fleur de Lys, and every so often I'll catch a glimpse of the Master as he's going to and from. The dude is unassuming and seems to be deficient of the hubris in which some of the more famous chefs marinate themselves.
I think things are going to change for Monsieur Hubert because just a couple of days ago, while trotting past Fleur de Lys, I spotted a group of tourists trying to enter through the back door of the restaurant. They had a look of trepidation as they were trying to get an OK to enter, and seemingly take some snaps of Chef. I don't think it's his style to bask in 'celebrity', but I'm sure he met them with his graciousness.... and perhaps a whipped-cream-mouse!
16 August 2009
Guilty Pleasure
Ahem, but I love me some cotton candy. It is a magical cloud that melds with my saliva and creates just a little bit of Heaven I can hold in my mouth until it's time to swallow and begin with the next, sugary bite.
The color of this confection? Doesn't exist in Nature. The taste of this spun sugar? Sweet enough to bust your taste buds. Nutritional value? Well, the only 'value' of said treat is perhaps its ability to start a cavity with just a ~whiff. Age appropriate? When other adults see me plucking soft pieces from the pink puff, they just shake their heads. "How can you eat that?" Like they don't want a sticky bite themselves... well, they don't. For some reason it's just not proper for an adult to stain their lips with the happy colors of this candy which is cotton.
It is my guilty pleasure. My teeth are still in my head 'cause it's only available at the ballpark or the county fairground and isn't that just the way it should be?
It is my guilty pleasure. My teeth are still in my head 'cause it's only available at the ballpark or the county fairground and isn't that just the way it should be?
Spreading Aloha
This is the beginning of my blog. I've been a follower/reader of many different blogs written by many different and talented people, although it was The Girl Who (Monica) who finally motivated me to start writing. She has this great idea for a group of bloggers to form a sort of co-op that generates money and shares ideas. Sounds good to me. Monica, you wrote the first blog that I looked forward to every day, and I look forward to this experiment of yours.
My blog's title, Urban Aloha, is kind of my motto. I live in the bustling and sometimes crazy city (I will sometimes refer to it as ci-tay) of San Francisco and I love it. Just because SF peeps are fighting for a space on the sidewalk, or more aptly angrily searching for parking, doesn't mean that we cannot be kind to one another. That is where the ~aloha~ comes in.
Ever been to Hawaii? If you've gotten beyond the trapping of the tourists you may have experienced a local waving to you as they let you merge into traffic. I've been on a surfboard and have been pushed back out to the waves by a huge, smiling local guy who could tell my arms were very nearly spaghetti. After puncturing my foot on a sea urchin, an enormous hotel security agent, named Jr. (!) took care of all my medical costs and delivered a treat to my hotel room the next day to help hurry my recovery.
The attitude in Hawaii is that we're all family, and isn't that a lovely way to live our lives? I'm trying to convey all the aloha I can as I trip trap across the hills of the ci-tay.
My blog's title, Urban Aloha, is kind of my motto. I live in the bustling and sometimes crazy city (I will sometimes refer to it as ci-tay) of San Francisco and I love it. Just because SF peeps are fighting for a space on the sidewalk, or more aptly angrily searching for parking, doesn't mean that we cannot be kind to one another. That is where the ~aloha~ comes in.
Ever been to Hawaii? If you've gotten beyond the trapping of the tourists you may have experienced a local waving to you as they let you merge into traffic. I've been on a surfboard and have been pushed back out to the waves by a huge, smiling local guy who could tell my arms were very nearly spaghetti. After puncturing my foot on a sea urchin, an enormous hotel security agent, named Jr. (!) took care of all my medical costs and delivered a treat to my hotel room the next day to help hurry my recovery.
The attitude in Hawaii is that we're all family, and isn't that a lovely way to live our lives? I'm trying to convey all the aloha I can as I trip trap across the hills of the ci-tay.
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