Archive for July, 2013

Sunday Music 7/28/13

Apache Dropout-Quaaludes ’68
I got to this in a kind of roundabout way. I read something by Everett True about Thee Open Sex (from Bloomington Indiana), a psych band not unlike a stripped down version of The Black Angels and it was really good. Apache Dropout is their sister band and it’s a lot more garagey. This is from their album Bubblegum Graveyard (2012, Trouble in Mind).

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I Hate Me, part 377,109

I had to run out for errands. First was getting a new pair of shoes, which was a nightmare. A boring nightmare but a nightmare none the less. Who knew that people with size 12 feet got shunted off to the Circus and Freak Supply Hut (located in Hazlet, near the swamp). On my way home I stopped at the Stop & Shop to pick up some stuff. It wasn’t a lot but it was more than a hand basket would carry so I got a short grocery cart. There’s something about these carts that make me feel old and feeble. The normal carts are sturdy wagons to fill with food and drink, to barrel through the aisles with the impunity of an SUV. Whereas the short cart looks like a glorified walker, a reminder of what’s coming in a few years (if I’m lucky). Also, the short cart has an ankle smasher bar, so you have to walk with short halting steps or else you’ll smash your ankle. I wasn’t in a great mood after the shoe debacle so I thought “I’ll rewrite the rules, no short cart is gonna cramp my freewheeling, anti-authoritative style. Fuck the Man!” (I actually didn’t think that but when they make the movie of this tale, it would make a nice voice over. I’m thinking Liam Neeson). So ladies and gentlemen (those who haven’t fallen asleep yet), I pulled the cart instead of pushing it. When the history of the shopping cart is written I will be in there. Not written about like the Wright Brothers and flight but like the guy who’s shown in the history of flight blooper reel, he’s got a plane with ten wings that collapses almost instantly. Seconds after I started pulling the cart and it was smashing into the shelves knocking stuff off, I realized that they weren’t made to be pulled only pushed. I felt like an idiot, which I’m sure the people who witnessed it would agree with. Be sure to tip your bartender.

the short car. aka: the pre-walker, with ankle smasher bar

the short car. aka: the pre-walker, with ankle smasher bar

It was a Small Scene

While going through a collection of albums we just bought at work, I found a bunch of old local flyers, etc. The customer who bought the record (a completely trashed, unplayable copy of the Fatal Rage LP) that these were in was kind enough to let me scan the stuff in it. I know this post is super obscure and local and the title “Small Scene” is from Dirge record, not Fatal Rage. [click on image to enlarge]
brighton 7brighton 3brighton 6brighton 4brighton 2brighton 1brighton 5

mutha records catalog, outside

mutha records catalog, outside

mutha records catalog, inside

mutha records catalog, inside

 

 

I Hate Me, 318,993

This one is pretty slight:
Being fifty one (Fifty Won-derful or Fifty One foot in the grave, depending on the day*), I have the worries of a normal person. Work, bills, family, the imminent destruction of  mankind by our own hand, The Mets, etc. but I also have problems that I thought I would have (read: should have) left in my childhood. Example, I got a great fEEDTIME sticker from Sub-Pop when I bought their box set. I was such a mutant that even though I work in a proper record store (suit and tie required) I ordered it directly from Sub-Pop, so I knew I would get it in case it sold out, because you know how great the interest would be in a box set for an old Australian band that 99.99 percent of the country never heard of (their loss). Anyhow, this sticker is great but I only got one and I still haven’t put it on anything. Do I put it on my car? I’m gonna eventually get rid of that car and then what. No sticker, that’s what. I have a binder that I have all my band’s lyrics in, there’s a lot of cool stickers on that but it’s kind getting beat up, do I put it on there and then when I need a new binder carefully cut out the fEEDTIME sticker and tape it to the new binder? I don’t know, it’s vexing. So there it sits in a shoebox next to my checkbook and couple of hard drives. Maybe somebody can affix it to my coffin.

*I don’t know if I used this puckish description of my age before, if so I apologize.
Sincerely, Creeping Senility 

it is a good looking sticker

it is a good looking sticker

Micro-Refurbishing (Reprint)

[work has been crazy, and the heat , and I’m lazy, and anything I’m writing is awful(er). So here’s a re-print]

 

 

Doing Their Part #1: Micro-Refurbishing

From time to time we here at Ugh! like to tip our hats to people who make a difference in our society. The following is an excerpt from The Manhattaner magazine (April, 2010).
Walt Terrell is a 48 year old salesman, he’s married with two children and he lives in Brooklyn. He cares deeply for the city and he wanted to do his part. After months of planning he hit upon an idea, he’s now the face of a new movement he’s hoping will sweep the nation, Micro-Refurbishing. We’ll let Walt describe what it’s all about, “Well, most people want to help change things for the better but they don’t know where to start. They usually attempt something big, they’re going for the grand gesture and when it doesn’t happen fast enough or they encounter some obstacle they get disappointed and quit. With micro-refurbishing we start small. I’ll give you an example, the Brooklyn Bridge is a national treasure but it gets a little shabby from time to time, so over a six week period last year I refurbished a bolt on the pedestrian walkway, well not the whole bolt, just the top part. I cleaned it with a wire brush and steel wool than I primed it and painted it. Good as new, actually I think it looks better than new. It makes the city a little bit better. I know this is still a pretty new idea and it’s blowing peoples minds, but I believe in it and I’m trying to get some corporate funding to keep going with it.” Walt has set up a website for interested parties http://www.microfurb.com MICRO-REFURBISHING: THINK SMALL, THEN THINK SMALLER

The bolt that walt refurbished

The bolt that walt refurbished

Do Not Disturb

My mom who would have been 85 today did a fair amount of traveling in the early and mid fifties. She collected “Do Not Disturb” signs from various hotels. Here they are. [click on images to enlarge]

from an Albert Pick Hotel, same on both sides

from an Albert Pick Hotel, same on both sides

generic style. made by John Willy, Inc. same on both sides

generic style. made by John Willy, Inc. same on both sides

Sherway Hotels, Chicago. Same on both sides

Sherway Hotels, Chicago. Same on both sides

from The Shamrock Hotel. Blank on other side

from The Shamrock Hotel (Houston?). Blank on other side

generic, Samuel Lewis Co. Blank on other side

generic, Samuel Lewis Co. Blank on other side

generic, blank on other side

generic, blank on other side

Allis Hotel, Wichita Kansas, side one

Allis Hotel, Wichita Kansas, side one

Allis Hotel, Wichita Kansas, side two

Allis Hotel, Wichita Kansas, side two

Hotel Hart of Battle Creek, generic front of card

Hotel Hart of Battle Creek, generic front of card

Hotel Hart of Battle Creek, back of card

Hotel Hart of Battle Creek, back of card

Same generic front as the Hotel Hart, made by Yogg & Company, Newark

Same generic front as the Hotel Hart, made by Yogg & Company, Newark

Generic back to bird card

Generic back to bird card

Bakersfield Inn, California, front

Bakersfield Inn, California, front

Bakersfield Inn, back

Bakersfield Inn, back

Another generic card made by Yogg & Company, Newark, front

Another generic card made by Yogg & Company, Newark, front

generic back to mouse card

generic back to mouse card

Beverly Hills Hotel, front (heavily laminated)

Beverly Hills Hotel, front (heavily laminated)

Beverly Hills Hotel, back

Beverly Hills Hotel, back

Hotel Sir Francis Drake, San  Francisco. back of card

Hotel Sir Francis Drake, San Francisco. back of card

Hotel Sir Francis Drake, San Francisco. front

Hotel Sir Francis Drake, San Francisco. front

I Hate Me, part 355,291

 

Went to Foodtown to grab some stuff, not a lot. Enough to get into the “About 20 items or less” line. As I was making a bee line for the register, a woman with a cart darted in front of me and beat me to the line and then jumped in front of her cart to pull it in to the register line/cattle chute instead of the normal push. unfortunately in her haste she came in at an odd angle and it was stuck. This would have been ok if she was pushing the cart but pulling it, not so good. So, me being chivalrous and wanting to move things along. “Here, let me help”.  I had my basket in my right hand, so I went to lift the cart and move it with my left hand. I grabbed it in such a way that my hand appeared palsied. The woman looked at my hand and made a lemon face (“that big crippled man tried to help me. It was nice, he failed but it was nice”). So I swung the cart over but went too far and smashed it into the candy rack, knocking a bunch of candy onto the floor. I felt like Lennie from Of Mice and Men. The cart was straightened out enough to move through and I took my time picking up the fallen candy as to not look at the woman with the cart.

"I'm sorry I smashed the cart into the candy"

“I’m sorry I smashed the cart into the candy”