I'm Super Human for You - the Flaming Lips visit Atlanta

When you come to a party at my house, you can count on there being a big ass spread of delicious food, the cocktails will be flowing, good music will be playing and there probably will be (at least) some glitter-based decorations. Expect no less at my house. I was raised right by the Queen Hostess, the lovely Louise Totonchi.

Similarly to my party philosophy, the Flaming Lips know how to throw a rock n roll show. From the moment the first note was strummed at Chastain Park tonight, confetti, smoke and balloons filled the air. A quick glance around me revealed dozens of giggling, joyful people awaiting excitedly their chance to hit one of the fifty balloons up in the air. Oh and there was even a man in a Space Bubble:



Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne projected love and joy from the stage, declaring that despite the heavy Georgia air in August, "I'd wear a polar bear jacket, I'm super human for you." And he wouldn't have stood out at all in such a fur- the stage was filled with costumed lovlies, boy and girl bunnies, King Kong (who wielded Wayne on his shoulders for a whole song), a giant butterfly, a giant catfish- all dancing nonstop. An ingenious feature was a video camera mounted on Wayne's microphone; watch this footage of Fight Test both on stage and with the mic cam view projected behind the band:



I should mention that the Lips know how to treat their party guests. From the moment tickets were bought, we received a link for a free download of three songs from their yet to be released album which included Covinced of the Hex, my highlight of tonight's show. A few days later a link was sent to three b-sides. And if that weren't enough, they also promise to send a link to a recording of the entire show we saw tonight. Nice hospitality!

It was a terrific show tonight. We were grateful that the sky waited until we were in our cars to open up and shower, but that the lightning didn't hold back its contribution to the spectacular light show.

San Francisco in September #2: the Delicious Food

Mom and I had a marvelous trip to San Francisco in mid-September- this is the second installment of our tales and today I'm focusing on the amazing food we ate- complete with pictures of course.

We got great tips before we left- I relied on the two folks in my life who are San Francisco experts, Mica and Sandy. Mica sent me a list of her suggestions, Sandy lent me what wound up being an invaluable resource, the Slow Food Guide to San Francisco and we made our dining choices with these as our guides. As a result, we consistently had delicious food, saw lovely places, and experienced San Francisco's culinary offerings quite well for a 5 day trip.

Our first lunch was at Sliding Door, a great Vietnamese restaurant in the Ferry Building that Sandy took me to on my last trip here where we dined on Vietnamese spring rolls and crepes.



That night we ate at an absolutely lovely Basque restaurant recommended by Mica and her Mom called Piperade. We ate the most delicious salmon ever- it came with a tomato and onion sauce (a little reminiscent of the Iraqi style of preparing whitefish) and on the side was a fried chick pea and tofu patty- the combinations together are permanently impressed upon my tongues memory.



We had a great lunch from a Japanese Deli inside the Ferry Building called DELICA rf1 - this is spinach with tofu, green beans with carrots and sesame, and a tofu hijiki patty.



Another of my favorites from the Ferry Building were the macarons from Miette, a delightful bakery. Mom loved the chocolate ones but I couldn't get enough of the Rose Geranium ones. They were delicate, flaky and gently sweet. We went back twice for more.



In the middle of our day trip through the vineyards, we stopped in Sonoma for lunch and enjoyed this Tuna Tartine with yellow tomatoes at Girl & the Fig restaurant.



My favorite meal was dinner at Brindisi Cucina di Mare. It started with the best Manhattan I've ever had - made with sweet instead of dry vermouth. It followed with seared tuna and avocado bruschetta:



Our entrees were Gnocchi with Braised Duck Ragout and Pecorino Sardo and Risotto with salmon and green peas, saffron broth, mushroom sauce. Both absolutely melted in our mouths. We ate as Sandy would say, like piglets.





During our walk in the Mission, we stopped to try one of the purported "best veggie burritos in San Francisco" at Taqueria Cancun, a bright and festive stop on our journey. We found out about this place in this great article from the New York Times about the Mission. The burritos are huge and delicious- we should have ordered just one and split it.



Our final night was spent at Mela Tandoori Kitchen, another spot that Sandy and I found during my last trip to San Francisco. I can't recommend this restaurant more- its top notch Indian food and is inexpensive to boot. We gorged on Chicken Tikka Masala, Daal Gosh and Matter Paneer. I should have skipped the filling but fabulous mango lassi at the beginning of the meal.





As you can see, we ate some damn good foods, y'all! At least we walked pretty much everywhere so were constantly working off all that we ate. That's the story I'm sticking with anyway.

The Tornado in Cabbagetown #2

Thank you so much to all of you, my darling friends and family who have called and emailed to check on me and my Atlanta friends after last night's tornado. I deeply appreciate your concern and loving words. I'm grateful to say that I am fine, my house is fine, and (clearly since I am blogging) my neighborhood even has power.

It's not as good in other areas very close to me though. I can't even imagine what Katrina must have been like. What happened in Atlanta last night is a teeny-tiny fraction of what NOLA dealt with, is still dealing with. Yet the damage here blows my mind.

My wonderful friend and co-worker Charlotta wrote of her experience being downtown last night when the tornado hit:

We were at a play at Theatrical Outfit - right around the corner from the office on Luckie Street. We left the play a few seconds before the storm hit, having just taken a few steps down the street. We had an extremely difficult and dangerous time getting around the corners to our office. As we were trying to unlock the door, tables and chairs from Slice were tumbling down the street. The awning from the Mark, flew off and landed across the street in the "moat" which is around the 11th Circus. [11th Circuit Court of Appeals]

Precious Mica's roof blew off; she is okay, thank goodness. The top floor of the Fulton Cotton Mill lofts is demolished. Everywhere you look in Cabbagetown roofs are missing in in some of their places are tarps. Trees block streets every which way.

I've had a migraine since yesterday morning. Despite the handfuls of ibuprofen I've taken, I can't seem to shake it. There is this strange strange energy in the air and I just can't shake this nervous feeling. My body is so tense.

When it has been sunny today the sunlight has been crazy through the storm clouds. Like in these pictures taken in Grant Park early this afternoon:

And then the strange dark sun would disappear and it would rain again. The the sun would emerge but the next thing we knew there was hail. It's a strange day in Atlanta.

Some lyrics are rollin in my head: "what if all tomorrow brings is ashes and glass..."

Liveass Possum Chasin'

I was settling in for bed to try to get a good night’s sleep in preparation for what I’m sure will be a long day at the Capitol, when I hear my roomie Anne’s voice from the living room.

“Sara! There’s a po-[something something very high pitched squealing] in the living room!!!” Huh? There’s police in the living room? I headed out towards her to see what was going on.

I saw I immediately: a liveass possum scurrying about in my living room. Holy God.

I’ve always seen possums in my yard; I’ve even given them cute names, like Blossom the Possum and her son, Awesome the Possum. This liveass, cat-sized, ghost-faced possum in my living room, however- not awesome.

After a couple minutes of squealing and carrying on – in which time the possum got itself nestled all snug-like up against the wall under a table – we started strategizing.

We considered the cat, then he waltzed in the house and right past the possum without batting an eyelash. We deemed him fired for failing to protect us from the beast and must now be locked in the craft room as a pre-emptive measure. I then called and text messaged the boy, aka the many-home-owner-landlord-type to see what suggestions he would have. No answer from him- he too is fired. This situation was clearly being left up to us girls.

Now I’ve had birds in the house that I’ve had to chase out, and the cat has brought in tiny garter snakes in that I yanked from his teeth and tossed out the door—but this was a whole different universe.

We started by opening the front door, the side door, and the back door. We decided to hurl a couple paperbacks (The Best Democracy Money Can Buy and Caramelo) underneath the table to try to startle him out. Nothing. It appeared…dead. Oh yeah. Possums play dead. Hmm. Perhaps we should shove it out towards the open front door with something with a long handle.

Armed with a broom and a mop respectively, Anne and I screamed a bit more and proceeded to try to push the possum out. Of course we should have known it wouldn’t be that easy when it instead ran further into the house and hid behind a couch. Pardon my language but fucking HELL. You would be cursing too if you had a liveass possum sliding around on your hardwoods.

So then we decided to create a barrier-wall out of the furniture to try to guide it out the front door. We again persuaded it to move with the broom- out the door it did not go. It ran further back into the house and straight into my bedroom and under my bed. Oh it is ON.

I am SO not having any liveass possum sharing pillow talk tonight. Oh HELL no.

That’s when she came out, emerged from my soul, my chest: Possum Warrior Princess. Armed only with a broom and a tenacity to purge her lair of all things giant and rodent-like, I ran, chasing that little bastard from one corner to another back and forth in my room until it ran out the door. My heart was pounding and I felt the wheezing coming on- Warrior Princesses sometimes have asthma afflictions, unfortunately.

After emerging from my room, the possum nestled itself back behind the couch. Now Anne and I were wise to its tactics so we had a better idea of strategy: I would push it out from the couch and based on our now wealth of possum-behavioral-experience, we knew that it would likely run toward the back of the house where Anne would guide it out the door with the mop.

What really happened is that I pushed the possum from out of the couch, it ran towards Anne who screamed. So I screamed. And then we both screamed and started running after it shaking our weapons in the air. And we chased that little fucker straight out of the back door!

High fives, hugs and giggles were abundant. We sat at the dining room table and caught our breath and thought that perhaps a couple shots of liquor might help to settle the nerves for sleep. We did it- with no help from anyone!

We are Badass Possum Warrior Princesses and succeeded in protecting our home from being ravaged by the string-tailed, small-dog sized, creepy as hell invader.

Here are the Lessons learned from the Great Possum Invasion of 2008:

Close all internal doors, especially bedroom doors, before starting the hunt;

Hurl heavier books than politically right on / magically real paperbacks, something that might actually make an impression on something pretending to be dead – try an unabridged dictionary;

And finally, I am simply too damn old for liveass possum chasing.

'like PLO I don't surrendo' - M.I.A.'s Atlanta Halloween show

If Bjork is a panda, M.I.A. is an iguana. Or komodo dragon. Or a gila monster or some kind of crazy looking, beautiful exotic lizard that moves awkwardly but with more grace than you can fathom with their bony adorable body.

Halloween night at Center Stage in Atlanta was alive. From before it even began, the space was filled with rainbows of costumes, underwear over fishnets, and more wigs and leg warmers than you’d find in Cyndi Lauper’s closet circa 1983. Girls were dancing on top of speakers; friends were greeting each other with hugs that spun each other around. (What an amazing contrast to the previous night’s snooze of a crowd. I'm just sayin'.)

The show opened up with video footage of Japanese nihilist Kouichi Touyama in his bout for Governor of Tokyo- a perfect way to kick off the show of the daughter of a Tamil activist-turned militant. This revolutionary spirit carried through the entire evening, no doubt due in some part to her extensive travels in India, Trinidad, Liberia, Jamaica, Australia, and Japan while she was writing her new album Kala.

That’s the best word: revolutionary. MIA is revolutionary. She is one of, if not the most fierce performer I’ve ever seen. In iridescent white stretch pants and a baggy t-shirt, she, her DJ and the woman who danced and sung back up (so sad I don’t know her name) commanded the stage. The energy flowed from their lips hips fingertips to the crowd infectiously. Eyes remained glued on the small bodies that glided across the stage. Every song was a journey -- sometimes intentional “now we’re going to Africa!” she cried jubilantly as the screen behind her turned to jungle and machine guns. At one point she invited all people wearing costumes to join her on stage for a dance party (pictures on this are included in the slideshow- click on the image to go to a larger size). She perched on the edge of the stage singing and became part of the fan-based MIAnimal that moved with her.

I'm including two videos in this one this time because I just have to share them. I didn’t want the show to end; hell I want to be back there right now. As MIA said in Sunshowers, 'like PLO I don’t surrendo' and she didn’t and she doesn’t and I can’t emphasize enough that if you have a chance to see this lovely British Sri Lankan imp in real life, go go GO!

And if you were there, tell me how much she blew your ass away. Please. Take me back there immediately.

Performing Pull Up the People: you no like the people they no like you, then they go set it off with a big boom, every gun in a battle is a son and daughter too, why you wanna talk about who done who? what you wanna talk about?

Performing Bucky Done Gun. Despite the arm constantly blocking my camera, the crowd footage on this one makes it all worthwhile. Everyone loved her!

The Kinda Lackluster Pornographers

I just got back from the New Pornographers show at the Variety Playhouse. I’ve listened to NP for a few years, at times constantly while I work. I was excited to finally see them live; I’ve missed them their last few times through Atlanta. What I found out though was that I prefer their recorded music to their live performance- at least tonight, anyway.

For a band with such a risqué name, this performance couldn’t have been more G-rated. Even though the songs tend to be high energy, the crowd seemed subdued and still. It reminded me a little of a Peter, Paul & Mary show-- like, pass me the wine from the picnic basket, I'm gonna need to get a bit more of a buzz on to get through this. Or like they were saying to each other “let’s all harmonize as loud and earnestly as possible”, but with 5 more people on the stage than PP&M, and one of those five I found to be annoying and a bit of a knob, as my sister would say. Neko Case didn’t feel anywhere near as strong as she sounded when I saw her solo this summer.

The highlight of the show for me was Kathryn Calder, who plays keyboard and accordion and harmonizes heavenly. I also loved the band name in lights on the stage and the fact that they have a shark on their new album. And they did play Mass Romantic, the song I was hoping for.

I should probably offer the disclaimer at this point that I'm sick and was having a hard time even standing during the show. Perhaps my illness could have impacted my level of enjoyment. It wouldn’t stop me from going, you know. Hell no. I'm a fuckin rocker. And besides, for all the shows I see, it’s probably good that I don’t love all of them. No one would trust me if I gave 7 thumbs up to every show I saw. So just to remain credible, I’ll give this show only 5 thumbs up. And here’s some video for you to enjoy.


Mass Romantic played by The New Pornographers, October 30, 2007 Atlanta GA

Reporting Back: Amy Sedaris, Rilo Kiley in Atlanta

There is no doubt in my mind that Amy Sedaris is a genius. Who else would have the foresight to be led in to her Decatur book signing on Friday night by a dragged-out marching band in boas and sequins?

You’ll be glad to know that Amy and her long-time imaginary boyfriend Ricky are still together (he’s not dead anymore; she reported that he had been ‘murdered’ on Letterman a couple years ago). They had a baby but they lost it. “Not LOST IT, lost it- but lost it, lost it. As in, we can’t find it.”

Earlier this week Amy appeared on Martha Stewart’s talk show. I missed it but Reem told me all about it and then I watched the video. They were making cheese balls and Amy kept referring to A1 Sauce as bong water. Martha would reply, “bog water?” “Yes, Martha, BOG water” replied Amy with a big ol’ wink towards the camera.

One of the audience members in Decatur on Friday night asked Amy if she were ever on Martha’s show again if she thought she could make Martha cry to which Amy quickly replied “Oh honey, most men don’t cry.” Zing!

The most exciting part for me personally was that I got to ask a question directly to her in the Q & A section of the program. I asked her what her 3 favorite garage sale purchases have been. She stumbled and stuttered for a moment and then exclaimed “Bitch!” in my direction- mine was the only question she didn’t have a stock answer for! I am SO proud. Amy Sedaris called ME a bitch! She finally decided that her three favorites are:

• a curlicue wig that her brother David found for her. Its used in the Grieving section of her book;
• A gold tooth that she used in the Dentist episode of Strangers With Candy;
• A tiny porcelain skull that she gave to David as a gift.

Afterwards, she signed my copy of I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence- she drew a magic wand coming from a ghost’s hand and wrote “Magic Happens”.

In other genius news, I got to see close up and live the lovely kids of Rilo Kiley on Saturday night at the Variety Playhouse. The ambiance on the stage felt like the 1940s- Malissa noted it was reminiscent of the bandstand era. The backdrop was a luminescent glimmering curtain that changed colors depending on the lights. The band wore black, white and silver- the boys with ties and suspenders, Jenny Lewis in a playboy bunny-like number with a silver bowtie.

Simply put, they were fantastic. Great performers, changing and rotating instruments the whole time. One of the many treats was their ‘cover’ of a song that Jenny wrote with the Watson Twins, “Rise Up with Fists!”- but they did it sorta reggae/ska-style. They didn’t play my favorite song this time around, but I suppose that is reason enough to see them again next time.

Thank god there is finally some rock n roll happening in this city! And there is SO much more to come in October.

Last Days of September

This was a lovely weekend- complete with almost no plans- other than of course the Amy Sedaris book signing on Friday and the Rilo Kiley show on Saturday. I’ll post words and picture about both of those very soon.

Thursday night I finally got a picture of this parking lot painting that I’ve wanted forever. It’s at Piedmont and Pine, across the street from the Task Force for the Homeless. I assume it was the Task Force that painted it. It reminds me of that Oscar Wilde quote.

I spent the weekend days hanging at my house, crafting, cleaning, writng, playing with pictures. I cleaned out my closet, resulting in:

• 3.5 bags of clothes, purses and shoes to give away on Freecycle
• ten hangers with suits and jackets also up for the taking
• 1 big box of t-shirts for altering into much cuter t-shirts (margarita and craft day at my house on Oct 14th ladies!!)
• 1 big "archive" box of sentimental clothes, meaning old handmade patchwork hippie dresses, rock n roll concert t-shirts, great thrift store finds, outfits I wore on days I remember well- all this stuff I haven’t worn in years but want to keep.
  

While I was sorting things into the archive box I kept thinking about how much I would have loved to have a box like this as a kid to play dress-up in. I do remember having a similar bag of my mother’s clothes that we wore for years for play, for Halloween, I think there may have even been a piece or two that made it into my goth-repertoire in high school. Like this black and gold scarf that was a part of every witch costume that came out of our home. God we loved that scarf.

Tonight I had Iftar dinner with Secret Agent Man and his cousin- both are fasting for Ramadan. Since the meal is to break the fast I wish they would just own up and call it “breakfast”.

And of course the cherry on top of the weekend was the finale of Rock of Love. The ending was the sort that I suppose would be satisfying to people who actually believe love can come from reality television. I was underwhelmed. Bored. My prediction is that on next week's reunion show Jes will anounce that she and Bret have "gone their separate ways but remain great friends." Bored!

However, this show did give us some great train-wrecks, trash, and reached new levels of slutacious-ness. I give Rock of Love two Reality TV awards for the show overall:

1. Best Ever Elimination Exit- Sammie Spades' hot as hell make-out session with Bret and leaves “with guns blazin’!”
2. Best Ever Final Line of a Series- After she gets eliminated, Heather leaving in the limo crying and slurring while cussing Bret out she’s all “And I have this asshole’s name tattooed on the back of my neck?!?” and the show ends…

AND LIGHTS!