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I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.

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Monday, November 29   >>


I never understood it when sitcoms and comedians joked about Thanksgiving dinners being bastions of civil war and newly-voiced resentments. I had always had a good time at Thanksgiving because my family is pretty laid-back and, frankly, not the type to fan flames on the few times we ever convened.

Now I understand.

My family self-destructed some few years ago. Uncles fighting, aunts gossiping, cousins breaking the law... you want a classic dysfunctional family, just give me a ring. Because of that, The Sister, The Mom, and I don't roll with that crowd. We stick with family friends.

But even they are case studies. Amber (not real name) is kind of like an aunt. Has been for over twenty years. Nice person, but crazy as fuck, as I had just discovered last week.
AMBER: Any movies coming out this weekend?

HUGO: I dunno... I think just that Cher movie, but not even I would watch that!


THE SISTER: I saw 127 Hours.

HUGO: WTF!? YOU saw 127 Hours!? How do you even KNOW about 127 Hours? You collect J. Lo movies! J. LO!!!!!!! I AM IMPRESSED.

THE SISTER: Shut up. There's also Harry Potter.

AMBER: Oh, no, that movie is TERRIBLE.

HUGO: You've see the new Harry Potter?

AMBER: No! NEVER! That movie is NOT for kids! It is full of WITCHCRAFT!


Then there's Rick. Rick is Amber's husband. White guy. Retired Navy vet. As apple-pie as you can get. He is VERY soft-spoken. And once you get him started on something, that's it, game over, the conversation has hit a dead end and you can start getting the dessert plates ready.
THE SISTER: I love Kogi.

HUGO: I KNOW RIGHT!?!?!?!! Kogi truck for-the-win. Do you guys follow them on Twitter?


RICK: About twenty years ago, there used to be a Korean/Vietnamese fusion place in Carson. It was ...hm. I don't remember where exactly. Actually, I do.


RICK: ...it was... east of the 710. No, it was west of the 710. Definitely west of the 710. And south of... was it Artesia, Amber? No, Alondra. Yes. It was next to Yang's, which is another Chinese restaurant, that served very large portions for very little cost. You can still go there today. I once serviced their air conditioner when my company had a contract with local government to service local businesses. I used to frequent that Chinese restaurant a lot. But, anywho, that isn't the Korean/Vietnamese fusion restaurant. Now that I think about it, the Korean/Vietnamese fusion restaurant is not open anymore. That is a shame, because if you are talking about fusion, this is--well, was--the place to go. Had you ever tried the kung pao off the corner market off Norman--

I was dying. It went on for another 10 minutes as we all sat and nodded.

It was so boring that I mentally transposed "I'll Be Home For Christmas" in C to the key of Db. I played it the next day. The mental transposition was correct.


I caught Weezer last Saturday. Pinkerton in its entirety, proceeding a ton of hits. It was brutal. It was way too reminiscent of high school. Cuomo's pain? Yeah, I felt it. Leaving the show was a bit (not exactly like) like leaving a funeral. It was really sad. I think it is more sad how sad I was. What a weird flashback. I'm still uncertain as to how much I enjoyed that set. I felt both so connected and really removed. Can't explain it. Hands-down the strangest show of the year.

I think few people understand how truly tragic Pinkerton is. All the happiness in the room from all the kids who'd recently discovered the LP just didn't make sense, and it creeped me out. Yes, let's rock, and sing along, and mentally cry, throw fists in the air, and knock our neck back and all that good stuff, but the smiling?! Really? Did anyone ever smile at a Minor Threat show?