"You Don't Have to Put on the Red Light," or "Maybe we should have gotten those binoculars"

Last night we saw The Police with my sister and her husband. We were sitting so high up that there was a nearby station for binocular rentals. We were, however, able to see someone in the (very) expensive seats doing jumping jacks (or, if you've seen Troop Beverly Hills, "the Freddy") throughout.

On Like Donkey Kong

This week proves to be a busy one - teaching starts up again (and it couldn't come sooner ... I've turned into a heap of something over the last two weeks), my independent study starts, and we're moving at the end of the week. Not to mention that there are three deadlines - including the final, final draft of the LOST chapter - and a Jeopardy! audition on Wednesday. Yeegh.

Speaking of LOST, I'm still processing the season finale. Regular reader Wanda (!) thinks it was Ben in the coffin, and after a second viewing I think she is right. I was mostly cheered by the reappearance of Walt, although sans Michael, it didn't quite have the KAPOW! I was hoping for. In retrospect, though, it works out for me because I don't have to make any major revisions to my chapter. At any rate, I still don't get quite what was happening, but since I have until January to stew on it I'm not too concerned. Something will come to me, I'm sure.

Heroes ended predictably, and badly, although one of my ethics students predicted precisely how it would end about four weeks ago. After a season of half-hearted devotion, my favorite (and, IMHO, the best written) character is HRG aka Noah Bennett. I think it is because they took some time to devote to his backstory a la LOST, and so we have a better sense of him than any of the other idiots on that show. A constant MST 3K dialogue is running every time we watch Heroes, especially when Jughead appears (and in this case, disappears into the sky with his nuclear weapon of a brother).

We're into concert season. Friday night we saw The Bad Plus at the Boulder Theater. They were awesome, but someone heckled their opening band (who were not so hot, but that's just me), and that was strange and disorienting. But the Bad Plus delivered, and it was fun to see some of my new acquaintances and friends from my occasional radio gig there at the concert. On Saturday (6/2), we'll see Cyro Baptista and Billy Martin at the Boulder Theater - crazy anniversary drumming - and on the following Saturday, we'll hopefully see Wayne Horvitz and crew at Dazzle. June 10 we have nosebleed seats to the POLICE and I am really excited. I just hope they play my favorite songs.

Once we're in our new house I hope to start blogging again at a regular clip - much like I did last summer - although I'm not sure what form my philosophy posts will take anymore. I've rediscovered the joy and wonder that is continental philosophy (and for all accounts, I'm a sight better in the continental area than in the analytic one) so I'm anxious to spend the next eight or so weeks reading more deeply in the discipline. I'm also looking forward to the eight pounds I plan to shed in advance of my 10-year High School Reunion at the end of July (which I will attend sans AV, who will be hand-making film and shooting pictures on said handmade film while I am reuning). Should be fun.

Does anybody like real music?

Last night AV and I went to a local jazz club to see the phenomenal Cuong Vu Trio (Cuong Vu, Trumpet; Stomu Takeishi, Bass; Ted Poor, Drums). What a set--interesting, hard-driving, inspired jazz. We'd heard one track on KUVO's Jazz Odyssey Wednesday night and decided to hit the club to see them. AV said that they reminded him of InterRacial, a band we saw in August at the Stone that was totally amazing. My tendency was to watch Ted Poor all night--whatever residual drumming instincts I have were electrified last night watching him.

The music was totally amazing, but the environment was really frustrating. People were talking throughout the performance, waitresses continued to pass in front of the stage during the music to wait on the people in the front row. Waitresses kept asking us if we needed anything as the music was going on...yikes! Also, it was very scene-y. Very different than at the Stone, where you sit down, shut up, and stay shut up except to shout between tunes. Being on the Lower East Side does something to the scene factor, too, in most cases.

Here I'll freely admit my own snobbery about the club, but fortunately the music trumped it all.