Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town

Aah, this song, this song. What earthly word of utter love can you use to describe this masterwork by Eddie Vedder? Jesus Himself must have come down and grabbed this man's arm on the night he scribbled this miracle of a song. By God if this ever gets more beautiful one can explode and create a small planet from one's dust. You may not remember exactly when and where you first heard this song, but you know it's always been there. In the warm fuzzies of your soul along with your first Christmas..lullabies in the safe nest of your mom's arms... your grandma's smile...

Been in a download frenzy lately for music from the 90's. Must be the influence of the Pumpkins at the Pimlico... or my usual angst having been propelled time & again into the reality that my choices are rather unusual by suburbia's standards wether pinoy or otherwise..or it may be just another homecoming anxiety. Shite! I'm so excited yet so dread to go home. HOME. Only to say good-bye all over again.

Hope to sing this to Jeremy and Jethro as I rock them to sleep...

i seem to recognize your face
haunting, familiar, yet i can't seem to place it
cannot find the candle of thought to light your name
lifetimes are catching up with me
all these changes taking place, i wish i'd seen the place
but no one's ever taken me
hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away...
hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away...
i swear i recognize your breath
memories like fingerprints are slowly raising
me, you wouldn't recall, for i'm not my former
it's hard when, you're stuck upon the shelf
i changed by not changing at all, small town predicts my fate
perhaps that's what no one wants to see
i just want to scream...hello...
my god its been so long, never dreamed you'd return
but now here you are, and here i am
hearts and thoughts they fade...away...
hearts and thoughts they fade...away...
hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away...
hearts and thoughts they fade away.

-"Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A SmallTown",
Pearl Jam, Vs.,1991

LET'S PLAY A GAME

Not a Nickelback fan but this video is just too adorable to pass up on. Maybe it's the afterglow of another Virgin summer. Or maybe it's my horoscope. Aw hell, I just love rock 'n roll period.

Anyway, on to the game. How many celebrity cameos can you name in this music video? How many friends, neighbours, and relatives in it can you claim to know? How many cities/places can you recognize here? Participate. participate, participate. Turn up your noses some other time.

I'll give you a free pass. That Nelly Furtado is showing some support for her fellow Canucks, eh? Now I leave the others to you. Enjoy the shallows. The water's fine.

SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A VIRGIN (Year 2): Post-its From Two Days of Crab Cakes, Southern Comfort, and Rock Fests

Amidst the 100-degree heat, losing the Anne twins to the half-naked sunburnt throng in between acts, Wu-Tang and Velvet Revolver; the dust clouds of All-American red dirt; my trampled trusty Ikea mat that has managed to remain pristine after last year's fest; stark tanlines left by my torqouise hommage bra to Amy Winehouse; the Southern Hurricanes rendered watery by the heat and popularity; being shaded by a Walmart-bought Rolling Stones towel; snuggled, comfy, and in raptures wrapped in a recyclable garbage bag watching Pumpkins; picking empty bottles of water to earn the protection of that garbage bag from a summer storm; coming close to a public orgasm at the sight of Sting mouthing Don't Stand So Close To Me; hearing an incredulous "Mmm-hmmm," from a Pimlico gate mama jaded by years of Preaknesses, when I pointed out that the dainty tin of lavender-chamomile tea inside my backpack is INDEED lavender-chamomile tea (she let me through anyway); warding off advances from Hollister-clad jailbaits (just a couple) and; catching the eye of a rebel billionaire causing a huffed moment of panic and mental blabberings about fears of being a querida, nunhood and breaking my father's heart, I've said this before and I say this again and to infinitude (pause for breath): VIRGIN FESTIVAL 2007 WAS A MOTHERFRIGGIN' BLAST!!!!!!! The proof is in the crab cakes.

Click here for more, more, more, more, more, more, and more.

To the twins Lou-lou and Row-row thank you for sharing this year's bacchanalia with me. What a summer! Mini-me, shove your Incubus pics up your ex's arse. Lou, thank-you barely encompasses my gratitude for your selfless persuasive talents over pimp-daddy, Beckham-wannabe trash-collector guy. Here's to looking forward to next year.

I'm saving my grungy Ikea mat and the garbage bag for next year.

of homecomings, random anxiety & mad men

Just my luck to happen into an AMC marathon for Mad Men. It has had a slew of good reviews for its spot-on depiction of the corporate world in the early 60s on the cusp of the Beatles, the sexual revolution, women's lib, and the surgeon general. Back then, Dylan was just another beatnik unknown from Minneapolis yet to sing his way to the Gaslight. America was still replete of poodle skirts, segregation, picket fences and girdles. It was an era where career women are secretaries and called dollfaces to impunity. The men stared at you until they have their fill as if sexual harassment never existed because it didn't. When the new girl Peggy revealed insight reputedly uncharacteristic of her gender, it's likened to witnessing "a dog playing the piano".

The blogs have been buzzing about it but I don't find it it that shocking at all although I like it. Maybe it's just me or I just find the supposedly period & surreal scenes all too eeriely familiar. That life, glimpses of it, is just a 20+-hour plane ride away or in the next pinoy party...

Shudder.