How batcave! Peter is upside down!
Once a band, now a blog... But for how long? The dead shall rise again! Someday. Maybe...
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Songs of the Long Walk… “Frank’s Wild Years” by Tom Waits
Live on Letterman...
At least once a week I have a very long walk taking care of one chore or another involving the boys. Usually these walks seem to land on the grayest and rainiest days of the week. Wet and cold with too much time to think, I find myself hitting the repeat button on certain songs over and over again. Each walk seems to find its own theme song.
Frank settled down in the Valley,
and he hung his wild years on a
nail that he drove through his
wife's forehead.
He sold used office furniture out
there on San Fernando Road and
assumed a $30,000 loan at
15 1/4 % and put a down payment
on a little two bedroom place.
His wife was a spent piece of used jet trash
Made good bloody-marys, kept her mouth
shut most of the time, had a little Chihuahua
named Carlos that had some kind of skin
disease and was totally blind.
They had a thoroughly modern kitchen;
self-cleaning oven (the whole bit)
Frank drove a little sedan.
They were so happy.
One night Frank was on his way home
from work, stopped at the liquor store,
picked up a couple of Mickey's Big Mouth’s.
Drank 'em in the car on his way to the
Shell station; he got a gallon of gas in a can.
Drove home, doused everything in
the house, torched it.
Parked across the street laughing,
watching it burn, all Halloween
orange and chimney red.
Frank put on a top forty station,
got on the Hollywood Freeway
headed North.
Never could stand that dog.
Playlist on Spotify:
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Saturday, May 12, 2012
Songs of the long walk… “Blue” by A Perfect Circle
At least once a week I have a very long walk taking care of one chore or another involving the boys. Usually these walks seem to land on the grayest and rainiest days of the week. Wet and cold with too much time to think, I find myself hitting the repeat button on certain songs over and over again. Each walk seems to find its own theme song.
A little sunnier this week, but many, many, too many miles.
I didn't want to know
I just didn't want to know
Best to keep things in the shallow end
Cause I never quite learned how to swim
I just didn't want to know
Didn't want
Didn't want
Didn't want
Didn't want
Close my eyes just to look at you
Taken by the seamless vision
I close my eyes
Ignore the smoke
Ignore the smoke
Ignore the smoke
Call an optimist, she's turning blue
Such a lovely color for you
Call it aftermath, she's turning blue
While I just sit and stare at you
Because I don't want to know
I didn't want to know
I just didn't want to know
I just didn't want
Mistook their nods for an approval
Just ignore the smoke and smile
Call an optimist, she's turning blue
Such a lovely color for you
Call an optimist, she's turning blue
Such a perfect color for your eyes
Call an optimist , she's turning blue
Such a lovely color for you
Call an optimist, she's turning blue
While I just sit and stare at you
I don't want to know
Playlist on Spotify:
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Friday, May 4, 2012
How to goth dance
Very funny. Much laughter, many flashbacks... Damn bats!
Couples well with this…
Goth for life | Music | The Guardian:
…the world of the middle-aged goth is a fascinating alternative universe, big enough to support a plethora of events and festivals, including the bi-annual Whitby Goth Weekend, which this weekend offers not just Gene Loves Jezebel and In The Nursery but a goth pool competition, a goth dog walk and the amazing-sounding Real Gothic Ladies FC vs Whitby Gazette Girls penalty shootout. You can peer into it by visiting gothic-family.net, a German website that organises creches at goth events, does a brisk trade in toddler clothes bearing the legend I'M A LITTLE DARKLING – or, for fathers, T-shirts with the words I'M DEAD in gothic script with the letter E crossed out – and encourages goth parents to send in snaps of themselves with their offspring for their Goth Family of the Month page. If it occasionally sounds faintly tragic – it's a hard heart that doesn't break a little at Hodkinson's stories of goths adapting their appearances to symptoms of ageing such as balding or becoming larger – it is more often a heartwarming tale of strong bonds and lasting companionship. "People have long-term friendships as part of the subculture and their patterns of behaviour were dominated by the subculture," says Hodkinson. "Some people would say to me, you're asking why I stay involved, but really it would be odd not to be involved. If you're so attached to the music and style and it's something that has got you a good sense of belonging and community and practical friendships, why would you break off with that?"
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Friday, April 27, 2012
Songs of the Long Walk… “Waiting for the Miracle” by Leonard Cohen
At least once a week I have a very long walk taking care of one chore or another involving the boys. Usually these walks seem to land on the grayest and rainiest days of the week. Wet and cold with too much time to think, I find myself hitting the repeat button on certain songs over and over again. Each walk seems to find its own theme song.
Baby, I've been waiting,
I've been waiting night and day.
I didn't see the time,
I waited half my life away.
There were lots of invitations
and I know you sent me some,
but I was waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
I know you really loved me.
but, you see, my hands were tied.
I know it must have hurt you,
it must have hurt your pride
to have to stand beneath my window
with your bugle and your drum,
and me I'm up there waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
Ah I don't believe you'd like it,
You wouldn't like it here.
There ain't no entertainment
and the judgements are severe.
The Maestro says it's Mozart
but it sounds like bubble gum
when you're waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
Waiting for the miracle
There's nothing left to do.
I haven't been this happy
since the end of World War II.
Nothing left to do
when you know that you've been taken.
Nothing left to do
when you're begging for a crumb
Nothing left to do
when you've got to go on waiting
waiting for the miracle to come.
I dreamed about you, baby.
It was just the other night.
Most of you was naked
Ah but some of you was light.
The sands of time were falling
from your fingers and your thumb,
and you were waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come
Ah baby, let's get married,
we've been alone too long.
Let's be alone together.
Let's see if we're that strong.
Yeah let's do something crazy,
something absolutely wrong
while we're waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
Nothing left to do ...
When you've fallen on the highway
and you're lying in the rain,
and they ask you how you're doing
of course you'll say you can't complain --
If you're squeezed for information,
that's when you've got to play it dumb:
You just say you're out there waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
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