Wilco is pretty great.

This is currently my new feel good song that makes me want to skip and hold hands with my Boo Thang. Also check out their Tiny Desk Concert on NPR, it's charming and takes the songs to the next level. http://www.npr.org/2011/10/13/141331825/wilco-tiny-desk-concert?ps=mh_frhdl1

Top That!

Does anyone remember Teen Witch? This is quite possibly the most hilarious nonsensical film of the 80's pop culture scene. It's got all the cliche makings of a cheesy teen flick starring a girl who is a complete social outcast with an even dorkier side kick. She of course has a crush on a guy out of her reach-the high school Quarterback and has no real sense of who she really is. The difference in this film is Louis (the main character) discovers she is a witch with magical powers and the ability to manipulate events to her benefit or the power to dress really provocatively to manipulate things as well.  What I find so great about this film is how out of touch Hollywood seemed to be with the urban community at the time yet managed to put some suburban white kids in trying to be all "Funky Fresh" by rapping and the couple Mexican guys they have in the second video dancing out of rhythm. I guess the two Mexican guys give the film the street cred and authenticity they were going for. This film is a mix of a bad musical and teen angst. I am starting the think the film makers were comedic geniuses. If you have not watched this film please do yourself a favor and download it right now. 

I am serious watch this!

Forty Flags

Forty Flags, Richmond CA

Boo Thang and I have been in search for the perfect artwork to decorate our new apartment. We came up with a few ideas. I thought it might be fun get a cityscape of the places we are from. He couldn't find one without a cow taking a poop and I thought one with a liquor store repeated at every corner wasn't so attractive. I thought maybe I would use a picture of the house a grew up. I then remembered I lived in a motel most of my childhood. Not just any motel it had forty flags or at least the sign said it did. When I was in grade school all the kids would talk about where they lived. Some said a two story house which was code word for a townhouse in the projects. I lied and said a white one story house with a white picket fence and had a dog named Astro who could talk to humans (I was a cliche traditionalist) I could never tell these kids where I actually lived. I mean my neighbors consisted of women of the night and their escorts, who I thought at the time were kind enough to make sure they got in cars safely.  We also had the frequent adulterers who's  wives would sometimes show up and ask for the room number, we would always give it out to watch the show either from the window or the single camera view we had of the parking lot and rooms. While these conditions may seem a bit unfit for a child, I really had no other choice. My Granny, as I like to call her lived where she worked and as children of parents who decided they no longer wanted to be attach (My mom came back when I was 14 to live and she was pretty awesome for dropping me off at school) this was our only option, a one bedroom in a motel office equipped with a kitchenette,  a day bed for all 5 children and a granny, and of course roaches. I wasn't so sure anymore I wanted to be reminded of this place by displaying an artful picture on my wall of this shabby roach motel. This picture would bring back memories of my uncle Frankie (who was only 5 years older) constantly going on a terror rampage and flipping off the camera in the parking lot and letting us know he was about to break some neighborhood windows by holding up the stick he had in hand or some other random gadget that could easily smash a window. There was always something exciting going on. I wasn't allowed outside, for obvious reasons, but often watched the action from the window. My Granny would often buy merchandise from various vendors as I liked to call them. Granny was actually known as "Moma" to the the neighborhood-I use to think she had a lot of kids when I first moved in and quickly realized my Granny was not the Jezebel I mistook her for (She is a saint and love her so much for everything). The Converse Man was one such vendor who would walk around the neighborhood with a grocery cart filled with Converse shoe boxes and the Meat Man, who actually drove a proper meat truck but would sell some of the meat to us.  I often look back and laugh at the silly moments I encountered that resemble a scene in a straight to DVD film starring Ice Cube. While things were rough at times and I definitely remember some pretty scary moments I would never take this back as it made me realize we pay way to much for store bought meat. Kidding aside it has enriched my life for having experienced it. I am still on the search for the perfect picture to decorate my wall and if you ever visit me and see a shabby motel with a sign that reads "Forty Flags", now you know.  

Blissful

Have you ever had a song make you feel sadness and bliss all at once? That is what Sigur Ros accomplishes every time I hear them. Damn these Icelandic geniuses better come to my hood soon or I may go on a rampage of punching people in the stomach or maybe squish a bug with my bare finger. 

Utopia

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My version of utopia would have a beach near by, plenty of local produce, great weather, a light house and a few dirty hippies who refuse to shower and insist on talking so closely your foreheads nearly touch. These close talkers will make for an interesting dilemma as my Boo Thang is highly uncomfortable with these types and struggles with being polite. The last time he encountered this situation he took a few steps back and the talker took a few steps forward each time not quite taking the hint. It was pretty hilarious to watch this conversation tango. I would spend my days making 'art' which would include some sort of recycled bottle concoction and my Boo Thang would spend his days fishing and lighting fires (remember there is always a fire going all seasons). I recently read this article in the NY Times where such a place seems to exist - for the time being that is. Cabo Polonio is a sleepy beach town only accessible by foot or over the sand dunes by jeep. It is surrounded by natures bounty, quirky homes, and of course hippies (They always know all the best places).  I know the idea of an actual utopia is a bit far reaching since it usually comes at a cost and there is always a struggle to proclaim ownership and eventually making it into some sort of Disneyland beach resort. The residents are currently battling the government and investors stake in ownership of this ethereal wonder.  If we ever find this utopia we all searched for at some point we would live in constant fear of others plans to take it from us kind of like the time I had my faux fur coat. I am pretty sure the utopia would turn into a Lord of the Flies situation.  For now please read the following article and imagine a place free from chaos, money troubles, and self important celebrities. 

http://tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/09/30/the-coast-of-utopia/?ref=style

First Baby

Valerie and Ani with their B-day cake made by me!

This past weekend I celebrated the birthday of my cousin Valerie. She recently turned 18 years old and is a constant reminder how out of touch I am with what is hip. I grew up with Valerie and her family. Raised with her father who was only 5 years older than me and more like a brother than an uncle. I would come home to barbie dolls with no hair and toys that had been mutilated by my uncle/brother. He would regularly taunt me, make fun of my gap teeth at the time and claimed I was a lesbian, you know normal brother stuff. When I would explain to strangers my uncle would burn my dolls and laugh in my face they were horrified as they pictured some mid age man with a wife beater holding a can of beer but he was an acne face chubby kid merely 5 years older than me. I would love to see their reaction before revealing his true age.  He eventually got over his phase of mutilating all my  toys and took me under his wing. He protected me and guided me to make the right decisions in life despite our misfortunes. He became my uncle/brother/father all at once. He had Valerie at the age of 16. Still only a kid forced to make adult decisions. She was his pride and joy. His First Baby as he called her. Valerie was like any other child active yet shy and reserved. A head full of curls and made a terror of a young boy turn into a complete softy. Frankie was his name and everyday I miss him. I can't believe it's been almost eight years but feels like yesterday. I replay the scene in my head over and over. I know he wouldn't want me to do that and probably tell me to stop it "Amy". I melt when I see his children becoming grown ups and how he will miss this all and how much they will miss him and knowing more of him, all of him. I see some of Valerie in him. His stubbornness, kind heart, his smile, his unpredictability and his ability to murder toys. His children are a constant reminder of him and sometimes I can barely stand to look at them. I miss him dearly and hope with gods grace he is proud of us and the people we have become.  Love you Frankie and miss you burning my toys and calling me gappy, A.P.E., Amy, White Girl, and most importantly your niece.

Adieu

 
So a few weeks ago I decided to leave the virtual world of Facebook.  I thought this process would be easy. I barley talk to any of the people on there and really only have about 4 real life friends. I mean who am I kidding pretending to be friends with 200 people. I felt a bit stalker-ish roaming through the pages of people I haven't spoken to or seen for years yet manage to have all access to their social life. I would get random updates on where they have last been and pictures of them seeming to have a blast or at least pretending to. This whole virtual world is so hard to keep pace with. It felt like high school all over again, competing to be kings and queens of the school, a popularity contest of sorts and I was the girl that ate lunch in the girls locker room. I know this virtual space is a great way to keep in contact with loved ones and close friends as well but find them to self promoting and this made me feel a bit inadequate at times.  They also take away all human contact in a real way. I notice all around me people fiddling with their phones, laptops, Ipads, etc, to afraid of interaction with the person next to them. It seems people would rather Facebook a hello rather then actually saying it to a person 5 feet away. I found myself Facebooking congrats on momentous events and reached the last straw when I saw a friend post a family member's passing and people selecting the "Like" button. I still manage to peek at the profiles through my Boo Thangs Facebook but hope to ease my way out of the virtual nightmare at least for the time being. I am sure I will be on some social networking site in no time posting pictures of how more amazing my life is than yours but until then...