Caution!

Ok, this one is odd. Go to the Amadana site. Click on the product pages. When the products appear, select any of them and scroll to the bottom to the "Caution" section. Each product page has a different caution area, and each one is freakishly weird.

Sometimes magic does happen
Last night I volunteered the 7 o'clock hour of my radio show to my husband so that he could interview jazz guitarists Howard Alden and Robin Nolan. Robin Nolan and his trio will be performing as part of Djangofest SF a tribute to the late, great Django Reinhardt and a celebration of gypsy jazz. (Running at the Little Fox Theatre in Redwood City, June 9-12, 2005.)

Expecting only Robin and Howard to show up, we were deliciously surprised that the entire Robin Nolan trio arrived. Thanks to the wonderful, invaluable help of fellow DJ The Bawd of Euphony, an impromptu concert of delicious gypsy jazz happened in the studio at KZSU. It was amazing! One of my all-time favorite forms of music, suddenly appearing and performed by incredibly talented, wonderfully charismatic artists. It was truly magic.

Go see Djangofest. I can highly recommend the Robin Nolan trio, you'll have a great time. But no matter who you see, please go out and support this great music and a wonderful venue.

Thank you to Howard, Robin, and all the guys and especially to the Bawd for a great surprise. I'll remember this one for a while.

Malawi in the news
The last time my favorite African nation, Malawi, was in the news it was due to a rather fascinating tale of a witchdoctor, a curse, and some workers who were on strike. Today's coverage is better. Courtesy of the BBC comes this article about Jack McConnel (First Minister of Scotland), his visit to Malawi, and his pledge to bring Malawi more before the public eye. Malawi faces rampant poverty and the ever-present devastation of AIDS, so any and all help in publicizing the plight of Malawi is always appreciated.

More material, please!
I am so sick at looking at 17-year old navels. The so-called "fashion" for shirts that end somewhere around the rib and pants that start mid-hip has given rise to a whole society of tummy-baring teenagers, most of whom really should just cover up.

When will it end, oh Lord? I must admit that most of the time I just look at them and laugh, but every once in a while I'm just kind of apalled. Not being sylph-like myself, I do have sympathy with the more...um...ample...of these girls, but I think that's just all the more reason to buy shirts that actually cover the stomach. Women, please, please, please do not let "fashion" dictate what you wear. Wear what looks good on or what you're comfortable in -- but in the name of all that is good, do NOT wear what "everyone else" is wearing if it makes you look ridiculous.

Why mess with success?
Recently the PBS series Mystery! has started showing new productions of some of Agatha Christie's wonderful Miss Marple books. This latest batch starts Geraldine McEwan, who is a wonderful actress. But oh my goodness are these productions disappointing!

People who love these types of stories like them because they're "cozy" and to a true fanatic, the Christie books (while admittedly not perfect) are nonetheless fine the way they are. And yet this new series feels the need to change things, add characters, alter the plot, and generally muck about with something that needs no mucking.

I don't see the point. And I certainly don't understand why they feel the need to make these changes. Even something as small as changing a character named "John" in the book to one named "David" in the series -- um...why? And they keep throwing un unnecessary love stories, changing character relationships, and adding and/or deleting characters. It's upsetting to those of us who want the familiar. Shame on you, Mystery! stop fooling around with our beloved Miss Marple.

It's been 10 years
Ten years since my best friend died of AIDS. Still no cure. Still the same yelling about gay marriages being the downfall of western society. Still the same apathy towards this global catastrophe.

For my part, I just miss him. Every day. And today, of all days, it hurts more than usual.

I know, I know
You're sick of me whining about how I can't afford to buy a house. Looks like I'm not the only one. this article shows that most of California doesn't make enough to buy a house. So much for the American dream.

It's a small Krishna after all
Yes, the world's first Hindu theme park in in the works in India. Already being referred to as "Disneyland on the Ganges," this 25-acre park will recreate great moments in Hindu mythology through rides, a museum, a sound and light show and, of course, a food court.

In other odd news, a San Diego high school is now paying snitches through a special tip line to report suspicious activity on campus. Ah life in America!

Turn off your TV
So it's turn off your TV week. Are ya gonna?

I'm not. Aside from the fact that my husband and I are completely hooked on a Spanish-language soap opera which we do not at all understand, I'm just not willing to "do what I'm told" when it comes to things like this. I'm not a TV addict (aside from the aforementioned show). Once it's over (at 9 pm) we usually turn the TV off and read. Other than that, not much. I TiVo a lot of history programs and cozy British mysteries, and As Time Goes By which I love. But we watch only 2 shows on network TV and can easily spend the evening with music and books.

That being said, however, I know a lot of people are total addicts and have the TV on whenever they're awake, whether there's anything worth watching or not. Do you think it's a gender thing? Because I've noticed that men are far more liable to zone out and realize they've just sat through 30-minutes of some home decorating show simply because it was on.

Monster Pope!
I think the Catholic Church missed out on a goldmine yesterday by not selling the naming rights to the new Pope. Here in America, where everything is for sale, we've become accustomed to baseball teams playing, not in "Candlestick Park," but in "SBC Park." We've got Network Associates Colessium, Monster Park, and other atrocious locations.

Imagine how much money the Church could have received, and how much good could have been done in poor parishes around the world, by selling the Pope's name. Imagine Virgin Megapope! Pope EXXON. And, my favorite, iPope.

Sigh...if only they'd put some thought into this, they'd be richer than they already are.

Glitter-less
Well, my addiction to La Mujer en el Espejo continues. The show that we call Glitter and Gopher has had us hooked for about a month now. No, we still don't speak Spanish...although we have bought a Spanish-English dictionary. But we visit the dicussion boards daily and we're doing a pretty good job of figuring things out on our own.

Tonight, however, no Glitter. Because of the Pope there's a special 2-hour finale of the novela that was supposed to end on Friday. So I have to start my week without my daily dose of stiletto heels and cringe-inducing eye makeup.

So what's your guilty TV pleasure these days? Come on, I've fessed up about watching Spanish language soap operas that I don't even understand. (Not to mention Japanese TV as well. Don't get me started on how much I miss Sakura on Fuji TV). Other than that, I don't watch much besides British mysteries. Oh yes, I do watch Desperate Housewives, but not much else. So come on...what do you watch that you can't believe you tune into every week?

I'd like a pound of food, please
Today is my husband's birthday. (Happy birthday, husband!) I'm working from home, but took time out to play hooky and take him out to breakfast -- his favorite meal. Which leads me to today's useless observation. Why do restaurants insist that everyone who goes out to breakfast is hungry enough to eat several pounds of food?

There seem to be only two food choices. The tiny-small (a side order of toast or a bowl of cereal) or the "hello, I've been working in a coal mine for 3-days straight please bring me an entire cow." There's no in-between.

The place we went to brought me an omelette that must have been made with about 4 eggs, a half-pound of veggies, and about 3 cups of cheese. Plus a small lake of hash browns and a bagel. I think I ate about 1/4 of it.

Now I realize that I don't eat all that much, and that there are many people who do work in coal mines and who do want that entire cow first thing in the morning. But I just wish there was some option other than ordering a combination of 4 side dishes or have a plankful of meat and eggs plopped in front of you.

And remember when "servers" used to be "waiters?"

It's for you
There's someone whose office is nearby whose cellular phone rings as the theme to Bonanza. Yes, when I get a call, I want to be reminded of the great outdoors. There's someone else who has Beethoven's 5th. And one that sounds like what I image a smurpf sneeze would be. My phone is as dull and unobtrusive as possible.

I wonder what Freud would make of people's choice of ringtones? From Japanese pop to mechanized hip hop. From Star Wars to Monty Python, people are no longer content to have phones that sound like phones. No, they must make a statement. In some ways it's almost like people want to proclaim to the world the fact that they, too, have a cell phone. "See? I'm hip. I'm important. Notice my cool ring? I'm different."

Unfortunately, everyone and their Uncle Edgar has a cell phone. And everyone and their Uncle Edgar has a ring of varying degrees of annoying. I don't really want to sit through three choruses of "Material Girl" while you fish through your Kate Spade bag in search of your electronic umbilical cord. Nor do I care to be serenaded by a nearly unrecognizable version of Chopin in an elevator.

So what's the statement? Classical says "superior and sophisticated?" Hip hop says "I'm really an urban guerilla, not a mere software geek?"

Does vibrate mean shy or merely considerate?

Got a question?
I was amused by this story from the UK. It's a text-message service that, for a small fee, will answer any question you can ask in 10 minutes or less.

Make 'em laugh
I've decided that one of the things I disklike about my new job is the complete absence of laughter. I honestly can't recall the last time I heard anyone laugh in my building. This is especially hard for me because (and I know this sounds wildly egotistical)...nobody thinks I'm funny. Or, I should say, I don't have the opportunity to be funny.

The total lack of conversation means that my sense of humor, which is of extreme importance to my identity, remains as locked away as my co-workers behind their office doors. Any attempt at lightening the mood is looked upon as if I'd just peed in the corner. And, quite frankly, I hate it.

I'm one of those people who is firmly convinced that it is possible and, in fact, desirable, to have fun at work. Sure, you can work hard -- but you can also have a good time doing it. At my last job we were like a non-stop comedy team complete with catch phrases, funny noises, and large amounts of sarcasm.

Here....nothing. It's a wasteland that truly makes every day drag by like it's in a coma. So....how do I learn to live comfortably in my little isolation bay? Or is my only option to take the advice of the most useless PR person ever and just "suck it up?"

Got Slim & Slam?

Don't know who Slim & Slam were? Shame on you!

Slim Gaillard & Slam Stewart were two very crazy musicians who did very crazy things in the 1930s and '40s. Slam focused on bass and vocals while Slim played pretty much everything else. What made them so special, and still makes them so much fun to listen to, is how swingingly odd they were.

Flat Foot Floogie, Boot-Ta-La-Za, Matzoah Balls and other such gems often rendered in hilariously un-PC "dialects" of Chinese, African, Japanese, and Yiddish. But they weren't just comic performers, these guys were serious musicians who delilvered songs that still entertain and still have the groove. Check them out, you'll thank yourself.

California gay marriage ban ruled unconstitutional!
Finally, someone with some common sense. My favorite line "it appears that no rational purpose exists for limiting marriage in this state to opposite-sex partners." Horray for San Francisco County Superior Court Judge Richard Kramer!

Anybody speak Spanish?
Lately I've become hooked on a Telemundo novela called La Mujer en el Espejo (The Woman in the Mirror). It's a deliciously cheesy soap opera about a woman who, because of a magic mirror, is gorgeous (although too much glitter eye shadow) by day and turns into this little gopher-chick at midnight. She's got a bitchy mom and a frosty-haired pseudo-husband (we think the man who married them was an imposter). But hey, everyone thinks she's either dead or a criminal by this point. Although she isn't dead -- and we're pretty sure she's not a criminal either, but is being framed by bitchy chick #4.

And then there's Paco, owner of the worst dance studio in history. Poor Paco! He's been shot!

Oh yes, and then there's Paco's employee who can't dance and who apparently owns no shirts with buttons. Oh my god it's tremendous fun. However, we don't speak Spanish and really have no clue what's going on.

In praise of modern chemistry
I've been fighting a sinus infection for a few weeks now, and it's only due to the miracle of modern pharmaceuticals that I'm a functioning human being. All hail drugs! I am so happy to live in a world where relief from my migraines is only an Imitrex away, and where various antibiotics can wage war in my body so that I can look forward to feeling better soon.

As an avid reader of history I find myself occasionally delving into worlds where even something as commonplace as aspirin didn't exist, and I find myself eternally grateful to live in the time I do. And I feel infinite pity for the poor migraine sufferer in the 12th century who probably had only bleeding or trepanning (look it up) as options to ending the pain (or her life). Perhaps back then migraines were seen as some form of demonic possession?

The power of speech
I believe that most companies, and certainly the group in which I currently work, drastically underrate the power of friendly communication. To date after nearly 2 months on my new job, I still have not had a personal conversation with anyone on my immediate team. I still go through entire days not speaking to another living soul. I am gradually developing friendly working relationships with others in the building, but not on my team. Why is hiding out in your office with the door closed and the blinds down considered to be a good, productive environment? I have always found that I work better, and harder, when I am working as part of a team -- with shared joys and pains. The day goes so much faster when there's joking, non-work conversations, and those small interruptions that brighten a long afternoon. And yet here it's either all e-mail, or it's the briefest conversation possible -- all work (often not even a "good morning") and then they're gone. No lingering to ask how the weekend was. No "nice picture, is that your husband?" Nothing.

Personally I feel this team is fragmented, confused, isolated, and morale is extremely low and I blame the lack of human interaction.