Tuesday, April 24, 2007


Wed 25: 11-6:30
Fri 27: 3-cl
Sat 28: 11-7
Mon 30: 11-6:30
Tue 1: 4-cl
Wed 2: 9-5
Fri 4: 11-6:30
Sat 5: 3-cl

Monday, April 23, 2007

Back From The Tree

First 20 tracks on my iTunes this beautiful spring morning:

1. "Wasted" - Pere Ubu
2. "Kingdom Of Rain" - The The w/Sinead O'Connor
3. "Bright Lights, Big City" - Jim Jones
4. "Spokane Washtin" - The Tumwater Boys Chior
5. "Suspect Device" - Stiff Little Fingers
6. "Rehab" - Amy Winehouse
7. "Psychosexual -Pop Will Eat Itself
8. "Can't Afford No Shoes" - Frank Zappa
9. "Magic" - Olivia Newton-John
10. "Waiting Room" - Fugazi
11. "Go!" - Common
12. "I Got U Under My Skin" - Neneh Cherry
13. "Reefer Man" - Baron Lee
14. "Big Bird" - Eddie Floyd
15. "Paloma Guarumera" - Los Super Seven
16. "(Not Just) Knee Deep (pt 1)" - Funkadelic
17. "PDA (Second Version)" - Interpol
18. "Dear God" - XTC
19. "Life In The Greenhouse Effect" - Steriod Maximus
20. "Don't Let No One Get You Down" - War

Sunday, April 22, 2007

Serves Me Right To Suffer

With Joe's mother coming to visit in a few weeks I really need to tidy up the guest bedroom, so for the last few hours I've spent spring cleaning the room where I typically throw all my junk, rooting through things I forgot I had, dusting, vacuuming, putting away misplaced comic books, all while wearing a bra and sweatpants and the windows wide open and the breeze cooling my skin. Dvorak's "Piano Quartet in D Major, op. 23" is playing on the iTunes. It really is a gorgeous day. Earlier I afforded myself the rare opportunity to take off my shoes and socks and tiptoe barefoot through the overgrown brambles of my backyard to sit on the patio chair under the pear tree, swinging my soft, delicate feet through the dried mulch. I remember being a little girl and how I'd never, ever wear shoes if I could help it. Summers I spent with hard callouses and soles as black as tar that allowed me to step on anything and everything. Nowadays I never remove my socks unless I'm bathing. My feet are so sensitive now as a result. Soft as baby's skin. Just walking across the brick steps to the chair under the tree was a dreadfully prickly experience. I really need to toughen up again. Sigh. I really, really need to toughen up.

It's been a little over a year now since we moved into this townhouse. A little over a year since Tom died. And grandma. Soon the pool behind my backyard will be open for the season again. I can't wait to go swimming. I need exercise. Lord help me, I so need it. And not just to drop all this bloody stress-weight I've gain over the year. I need to climb up onto that old familiar endorphin kick and live off of that high again. I miss walking 2 hours every morning, swimming laps, fumbling around like an idiot on my fitball. Hell, I don't care if I don't have a hot body. I've never had a hot body, so it's never been a concern to me. I do, however, want a strong, healthy, effective body, like the one I had a bleedin' year ago. And I need to know the joy in that again. I need to be aware that I have that element backing me all the way.

I have accumulated a few new (okay, second-hand) items of diversion along the way this week.

Art Ensemble Of Chicago 2003 release of Tribute To Lester, which as the name implies is their loving homage to their late trumpeter Lester Bowie. This is my first ever AEC album and I've been craving to experience them, especially having Phil gush about them so fervently over the years, so it's ironic that the album that comes in over the used counter was the first one they did without their frontman. Still, ground-breaking cutting-edge avant garde jazz is still ground-breaking cutting-edge avant agrde jazz. Speaking of which, Ornette won a Pulizter. And I still haven't gotten that damn album yet!!

Who knew our sister stores in the local malls actually got good used product from time to time? Ganked The Films of Kenneth Anger, Vol. 1 which includes most of his earliest work; Fireworks (1947), Puce Moment (1949), Rabbit's Moon (1950, the rarely seen original 16 minute version), Eaux d'Artifice (1953) and Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome (1954). Extras include some rare outtakes from Rabbit's Moon and a pretty spiffy booklet with pictures and some mumbo jumbo from Martin Scorsese.

Oh, what am I reading right now? Something not second-hand for a change. I bought Bob Fingerman's Beg The Question, a graphic novel compiling issues from Fingerman's Minimum Wage comic into one continuing serial of Jewish pornographic cartoonist Rob and his hair stylist Italian girlfriend Sylvia, two hipster twenysomethings trying to hammer out a way of life together in New York City. So far it's been okay. I admit I grew weary of my own generation's Gen-X pop culture obsessed way of life at an early stage, and reading about it became even more excruciating. And these people aren't even my age! But even I have to admit I'm just as guilty as these kids are of quoting Mystery Science Theatre 3000 or wasting valuable hours of my day foraging through boxes of obscure DVDs tucked away under dealer's tables at various comic book conventions. I guess I'm embarrassed to admit I can relate. But it has its funny moments, and it sure doesn't skimp on the sex. I'll keep you informed if it holds my attention all the way through.

Boy, it certainly is a beautiful day. I'm in the mood for some fruit and sushi. Wow, just like last summer.

Friday, April 20, 2007


Mon 23: 12-6
Tue 24: 3-cl
Wed 25: 11-6:30
Fri 27: 3-cl
Sat 28: 11-7

Sorry I haven't blogged much lately in the past week or so. Just at this juncture I have no idea what else to write about other than my current money woes. I wish I could catch a break. So many financial issues. My preoccupation with them takes up so much of my time I become almost incapacitated by the crushing enormity of it all. It exhausts me. Sometimes I just sit at the computer in order to keep myself from slumping over. And I hate to write about these pressing issues in a place like this, even though I'm aware that the very purpose of this blog was to have a place like this to unload the very pressing issues that, well, press. I just know that it makes for boring copy, to be sure.

But I'll be back soon, I promise. Watch this space! (yeah, like anybody does)

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Near Misses

Joe's cousin is an engineering student at VT, but he's okay. And I'm assuming the kid who works at my store seasonally is fine as well, since I haven't seen him on the one victim's list I found so far online.

Yesterday a gunman came into the Guitar Center down the road from where I work and tried to shoot someone in the keyboard department. Our friend Mike works in the drums department so he was on the other side of the store when it happened and didn't see or hear of it going down until after the incident. Nobody was injured.

Things like this make me feel a thousand times more tired than I already am.

Friday, April 13, 2007


Sun 15: 11-7
Tue 17: 11-6:30
Wed 18: 3-cl
Fri 20: 10-6
Sat 21: 3-cl

'Cos Garlic's Everywhere

Cowboy Mouth. June 22nd. Annual Bayou Boogaloo in Norfolk.

And my friend Mike is old friends with Fred Leblanc. I wonder how much clout he can wield to get me briefly backstage? And will Vance call the feds on me for stalking him across the country in less than two months?

Anyway, this just made me laugh HARD. Fuckin' HOFF-STYLE! Glad I'm not the only one who always thought that' what they're saying.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Keep It Real ‘Till It Flatlines

Sunday, April 08, 2007

Happy Pagan Egg-Hiding Fertility Ritual Day

And in the spirit of the season, ladies and things, I finally present to you.... "If Eggs Had Legs".
That's right, somebody mysteriously going by the moniker Jack and/or Misty left me a comment on an old post of mine where I was searching for this song since I lost the single that I've had since college telling me that the entire album is out on CD and available for purchase. Much to my delight. And the delight of Joe, who always giggled during the "quack" sound. And now you can too. Enjoy!
It snowed yesterday. Dad-gummit. It was so nice in Las Vegas a couple of days ago.


Mon 9: 11-6:30
Tue 10: 3-cl
Wed 11: 10-5
Fri 13: 4-cl
Sat 14: 10-6

Friday, April 06, 2007


So Vegas was fun. Absolutely perfect weather. And even though it was my third time visiting it was Joe's first so it was a pleasure experiencing it all over again with him, as well as what little time we had with the bride and groom, and the two secret service men that came with them -- both of whom got very drunk Monday night after the wedding shooting craps at the Sahara and best man Stan fell asleep in the casino men's room with his Corona still in hand. And the wedding went off without a hitch, which I think everyone was grateful for -- although they were supposed to get the fat Elvis for the ceremony but hey, it was still Elvis. Not many can make that claim. Funniest moment during the reception was when S. whose breasts are as big as mine took a picture of her boobs with her cellphone and accidentally emailed it instantly to her mother. Mostly we were all drained. Vegas has a way of wearing you down, what with the dry desert air, the dehydration, on top of the jet lag and just running around everywhere, we all took our share of power naps during the afternoon. Maybe because we're also old. A part of me is alarmed to discover that this might be more than partially the case.

Oh yes. Sunday night at the House Of Blues in the Mandalay Bay. Cowboy Mouth rocked righteously. Vance was his usual smokin' hot self. After the show lead singer/drummer Fred said that the band would meet everyone outside in the casino to sign autographs, but while Joe and I waited by the T-shirt booth only Fred came out and no one else. We figured maybe Vance wasn't going to make it, so we snuck into the second room at the HOB to catch what was left of a very kick-ass Prince/The Time cover band, much to Joe's surprise and delight. I slipped back out a moment to see if maybe Vance made a showing, and sure enough, there he was, standing next to his girlfriend Joanne and two other people chatting (the photo at the top of this page for Betty's House charity shows a picture of Vance and Joanne in the center) so I moseyed over coyly and shook his hand telling him that he was fantastic that night, that I last saw him live at The Cold reunion in New Orleans back in 2001, and I enjoyed his Famous Pies album. He was quiet, yet polite. Very "Oh. Oh? Oh! Why, uh... thank you." I patted his shoulder and told him I didn't want to keep him so I bolted and ran back to the room where Joe was watching the Prince cover band and simply told him "I met Vance". Joe ran out of the club and I followed. He and I cornered Vance and Joanne in between some slot machines as they were making their way back to their room and I told him that my boyfriend also wanted to meet him briefly. Joe talked excitedly with Vance, telling him that he's been following his career since The Daily Show and how much pleasure he looks to be taking in performing live on stage. Basically both of us were babbling nervously, and I'm sure Vance thought I was a touch, ahhh... touched in the head. Vance introduced us to Joanne, who seemed wonderfully nice, and then we waved good-bye to each other as we let them go back on their way and we ran to catch a cab back to the Stratosphere.

Needless to say that seeing Vance, talking to Vance.... touching Vance.... aie-yie-yie. Let's just say Joe took full advantage of my libidinous state once we got back to the hotel room. ;-)

Other than that we just took our time and soaked up our rare vacation time with each other. Rode the rollercoaster at the Sahara, had lunch at Spagos (love that place), saw white tigers, went comic book shopping (I know, we could have done that at home) and basically enjoyed each other's company. Or at least I hoped he enjoyed mine. At least after the state I was in post Vance-encounter Sunday night. ;-)

Oh, and a stripper at the Spearmint Rhino drew a little cartoon piggie on Stan's foot and he had it tattooed there. Good times. Whatever happens in Vegas apparently comes home with you permanently inked into your flesh for your wife to discover next time you're padding around the house out of your footie pajamas.

Nice to be back!

A Sacred Institution

Okay, if you'd like to bear witness to the surrealism, and possibly have RealPlayer, go to this page and click onto the "M. Turner Wedding". First thing you'll see is my fat booty in black and red sitting in the pew behind the best man Stan who is handing me the ring box to hold. We were discussing how Stan has secretly bet maid of honor Ricky (or "bitch" as he was referred to all week, and he and Stan were dressed as secret service agents following them around) to switch out groom Mike's ring with Ricky's own wedding band. Mike is a big guy with huge hands, and his wedding band is quite large. Ricky is a small fellow and his wedding band is nowhere near as big. So when Ricky hands Elvis the ring he's really handing over his own, and when S. puts it on Mike's finger you can see her look back at Ricky in alarm and start breaking up during her vows. After the ceremony we all dance a little and then S. and Mike walk off camera (to the justice of the peace in the next room, who marries them for real) and when they come back into camera range S. says something about "Which one of you had the idea to switch out the rings?" Oh, and my job was to hold the bride's purse, so you see me basically running around with a giant pink canvas purse the whole time. Joe's job was to hold the envelope with the paperwork from the city hall registry earlier the day before, so I guess we were all given relatively important tasks.

Anyway, fun was had. I'll write more about what all went on in the next post, but I gotta bail and go to work. Maybe tonight, if I don't go see Grindhouse when I get off.

Oh yes. And I met Vance.

Once again. Holla.