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Monthly Archives: May 2017
etienne is now a married woman
the street dogs of Santiago wagged their tails in unison this weekend as their patron saint was wed in holy matrimony in the capital city of Chile.
etienne aida reyes le blanc decided that her name wasn’t long enough?
si.
hopelessly romantic, for as long as i knew her, etienne has been enamored with love. sadly for me, her heartstrings were more attached to her scruffy bff Uva than this American, but theirs was and is true and unbreakable.
who is the lucky groom? like many things in her colorful life, that’s a secret. despite often being the brightest light in the room, etienne prefers to keep things on the down-low. she currently holds no social media footprint – as far as i know. there are no public photos of the ceremony. and the only reason i even knew it happened is because of the network of mythical but strong relationships between the XBI and its canadian brothers and sisters at the CIS.
etienne is a complex and dynamic young woman. wildly creative, capable of speaking a number of languages at her will, and able to make friends at the snap of her fingers. finding boyfriends was as easy for her as ringing a bell. but a husband is something new to her and whoever her beau is must be someone truly special because etienne suffers no fools.
the warmest of busblog wishes to both of them.
ma, don’t watch this on your phone
my mom loves Palm Springs and Joshua Tree
and U2 and cool concerts.
she once saw Hendrix open for the Stones.
a giant inflatable penis was involved with the stage of that show.
Ma, this was a giant video screen and I want you to see it because if you go to Soldier Field on 6/7, this is what it would look like in the $1,000 seats.
they haven’t lost a step
theres three songs in the 80s i totally remember hearing the first time they debuted on the radio
the police’s “every breath you take”, van halen’s “jump”
and one night as i was driving west on the 10 and then south down the 405
one of those great deep throated LA FM radio jocks said
we’ve got something very special to play for you now
it’s a brand new song from u2’s forthcoming record, “joshua tree”
it’s a little different than you might expect
it’s called, with or without you.
and that bass rolled in and i was driving a 76 caddy and i didnt have much money
but what i had i put into the stereo and speakers of that baby
which is what you do when youre 20.
and that night, right away, that song was perfect
subtle, haunting, tribal,
right on the money.
tonight u2 doled out one hit after another and still had a few left in their pocket when the assault was over.
tonights centerpiece was their best selling album of a run that started in the late 70s(!). they played a few pre-joshua tree hits and then the Grammy winning album in its entirety and the memories and feels rushed back.
how do you start an album with the one two punch of the streets have no name and i still havent found what im looking for?
in fact, how dare you.
it was a beautiful night. 75 degrees or so. and the images on the giant, wide screen, showed off the irish band’s love of america, specifically the west, and namely california.
the power of Fox News has convinced the nation that the West is out of touch with main street usa but U2 reminds us that in the 80s – and even today – the West is where dreams come true
ive been to a hand full of these full album spectacles and whats interesting is they never know what to do after the record is over.
as fantastic as u2 is, they didnt know either.
they slapped together some decent songs, and compelling video
people got to clap for Michelle Obama, Pussy Riot and Hillary Clinton
but it held little magic once the heart of the show was over.
which was fine.
im gonna see U2 today
its the 30th anniversary of the Joshua Tree record.
30 years ago i was dating Michele who loved U2 and we would listen to them all the time.
we went to the concert at the Sports Arena and it was so good i cried more than once.
tonight i will probably cry again even though they’re playing at the cavernous Rose Bowl.
i often think to myself what a lucky life i have had. Michele was my first friend in California and ended up quickly being such an important person in my life.
she turned me on to poetry and environmental issues, she majored in journalism, lived in Malibu and was so into the Cure and U2 and foreign films.
id drive all night to the furthest stretches of Zuma to see her and walk to the beach and sleep in her parents house and talk about everything you could ever imagine. i would be such a different person, and i doubt a better one, if i hadnt taken the risk and said hi to the pale, red lipsticked girl who had scribbled words on her chuck taylors.
i would love to be going to this show tonight with her.
today is saturday night special’s birthday, it’s 42
Greatest song that’s (not-so) secretly about gun control? Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Saturday Night Special” — which came out 42 years today.
The tune was co-written by singer Ronnie Van Zant and Glendale’s own Ed King who met Skynyrd when King’s band (the Strawberry Alarm Clock) were on tour with them. Eventually King joined Skynyrd and co-wrote many songs with Van Zant including “Mr. Banker” “Working for MCA” and “Sweet Home Alabama”. He played bass and later when their original bassist returned he played guitar as part of the three guitar attack.
King quit Skynyrd in 1975, a few months after this tune was released. In 1976 he was replaced. In 1977 the band was involved in a tragic airplane crash that killed Van Zant, guitarist/vocalist Steve Gaines and backing vocalist Cassie Gaines, among others.
“Saturday Night Special”
from the album Nuthin’ Fancy
MCA Records
(Ed King, Ronnie Van Zant)
Two feet they come a creepin’
Like a black cat do
And two bodies are layin’ naked
A creeper think he got nothin’ to lose
So he creeps into this house, yeah
And unlocks the door
And as a man’s reaching for his trousers
Shoots him full of thirty-eight holes
Mr. Saturday night special
Got a barrel that’s blue and cold
Ain’t good for nothin’
But put a man six feet in a hole
Big Jim’s been drinkin’ whiskey
And playin’ poker on a losin’ night
And pretty soon ol’ Jim starts a thinkin’
Somebody been cheatin’ and lyin’
So Big Jim commence to fightin’
I wouldn’t tell you no lie
Big Jim done pulled his pistol
Shot his friend right between the eyes
Mr. Saturday night special
Got a barrel that’s blue and cold
Ain’t good for nothin’
But put a man six feet in a hole
Oh, it’s the Saturday night special, for twenty dollars you can buy yourself one too
Hand guns are made for killin’
They ain’t no good for nothin’ else
And if you like to drink your whiskey
You might even shoot yourself
So why don’t we dump ’em people
To the bottom of the sea
Before some ol’ fool come around here
Wanna shoot either you or me
Mr. Saturday night special
You got a barrel that’s blue and cold
You ain’t good for nothin’
But put a man six feet in a hole
Mr. the Saturday night special
And I’d like to tell you what you could do with it
And that’s the end of the song
she said im running late, is 8:30 ok?
i said it depends on what youre wearing.
she said i was thinking schoolgirl?
if you say 8:30 though and text me at 8 and ask if im ready i will not be ready
i will be in the shower getting ready.
i’ll text you back and tell you the back door is open
and you can flip through my mountains of magazines as i dry off and shave
the xbi runs on a
tight
schedule. they don’t like to make unnecessary adjustments for that is when mistakes occur.
she took selfies on my bed
with my cats.
and texted them to me, 20 feet away.
after a while i appeared
robe
white socks
top hat
monocle.
i have no business experiencing the things i have in my life. knowing who i have. feeling what i do. doing what i do.
but i say thank you a lot.
privately
and outloud.
like yesterday as i kicked the cats out
and shut the bedroom door.
on april 23, 1992 soundgarden played Rob Gym at UCSB
tickets were $5.
even though i had graduated already, i had stuck around isla vista because i was in love with jeanine and we were living together as she finished her senior year.
soundgardens badmotorfinger was in heavy rotation in my sony 100 cd changer and i still remember hearing it blasted as i played NHLPA on my sega genesis.
not only were they heavy but they were melodic and cornell’s vocals soared.
he was capable of doing things with his voice that even kurdt couldnt do. in fact of all the grunge stars, he was the rock star.
sure weiland was freakier and flashier and glammier, but chris had the long hair and tore off his shirt and strapped on the guitar and literally thrashed around the stage at the small gym
and i laughed as the fold up chairs that were zip tied together were tossed aside two songs into the show. poor Associated Students tried to make the Soundgarden show a seated show but the kids weren’t having that. and neither was the band. it was glorious.
pretty sure i saw them again at Lollapalooza but that was a giant show. Rob Gym is maybe 300 seats. crumpled and discarded. it was a rock show in a loud old gym. and Cornell was perfect the entire time.
i cannot believe he is dead. what a perfect voice. what great style. what love of music. he did a tour where all he did was covers. thats love. he will always be loved.
there should be a plaque at Rob Gym that says
Soundgarden Rocked Here
this is not how it was supposed to be
kurt
weiland
now cornell
wtf
today we had our company meeting
afterwards they had a nice spread for us.
wolfgang puck.
our company is spread out among three buildings, so it’s always great to break bread with people you don’t normally work with.
the other good thing is everyones pretty smart.
surround yourself with smart folk.
i havent been driving much.
i get about one good ride a night and head toward in n out.
sometimes i get there and the lines too long
sometimes i get there and something takes me away.
my problem is i think its the chocolate shake calling my name.
my given name.
U2 is playing this weekend.
the Cubs are in town next weekend.
the president is going to resign the weekend after that.
if not sooner.
if Putin lets him.