Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Grey Nasty January Mix

  • My strategy for getting through this, the most depressing time of the year, is anesthetize myself with loud offensive music. If you were in traffic yesterday afternoon and saw a pasty bespectacled shaven-headed guy in a blue Honda Civic headbanging and shouting "SO NOW I'M ROLLIN' DOWN RODEO WITH A SHOTGUN/THESE PEOPLE AIN'T SEEN A BROWN-SKINNED MAN SINCE THEIR GRANDPARENTS BOUGHT ONE," that was me.

  • My new Dunlop Crybaby wah-wah pedal arrived on Friday. It's a thing of High Awesomeness. There are no knobs or switiches or anything like that: you just step on the pedal and rock it forward to go "Wah" and backward to go "Ow." It's low-tech like a violin. I'm having loads of fun learning to use it. Besides the usual 70s theme-from-Shaft sound, there are lots of expressive effects you can access with it. I'm especially liking what happens when I switch to my bridge pickup, turn my gain up really high, and drag my fingernail along the windings of my low E string right over the 12th fret while slowly rocking the the pedal through the overtone series. It's not really a big seething mass of ungodly noise; it only sounds like it.

  • The Giant at Van Ness now sells Barry's tea. (Thanks for the tip, Diana!) This makes me extremely happy, especially since Trader Joe's is apparently going to discontinue its Irish Breakfast tea, which is the best substitute for the real thing I've found.

  • In his column this past Sunday, Gene Weingarten proposes an intriguing metric for determining one's fame, to wit: a person is truly famous if and only if his or her name, when entered in quotes into the Google search engine, returns more hits than does the phrase "she moaned."

    Since my name is shared by a percussionist from Toronto (with whom I'd love to play a gig sometime), my situation is a little complicated, but even without differentiating between us we only get 1,600 hits, which is far below the 2,830,000 needed to break the "she moaned" barrier. Adding "DC" after my name returns 384 hits, which means my level of fame is slightly greater than the phrase "spiked butt plug," and less than "inflatable butt plug" by a couple of orders of magnitude. This would be humiliating if adding "Toronto" after my name didn't return a mere 191 hits. That at least I can feel good about.

    Extraordinarily, "Hello Kitty butt plug" returns only 9 hits. I'm amazed.


T said...

Oh, man, I'm going to have to blog about "Hello Kitty butt plug" so I can be the 10th Google hit for that, since I'm already so high up in the rankings for Poor Dear Poony Poon....

(Mwa ha ha ha ha--now you're going to start getting Poony Poon hits yourself!)

Rob said...

Oh. Joy. Thank you.

Mike said...

1. I haven't checked with my music therapist sister-in-law, but I'm pretty sure the most therapeutic piece of music ever recorded is Lawyers, Guns & Money by Warren Zevon. The original is a classic, of course, but there's a perfectly decent cover by Jakob Dylan and Jordan Zevon on the tribute album Enjoy Every Sandwich.

2. I may never be famous by the "she moaned" standard, but my op-ed on sperm donorhood is at least in the top 10 Google hits on my name, which is pretty decent since Mike Livingston was a quarterback for the Kansas City Chiefs and a minor jazz artist. (I don't even know whether those are two different guys.)