Back in the Pool!

Indeed, I am back in the pool. Here are my various splashes in the water:

1. First and most significantly, sorry for the long delay since my last post. It has been zany. Just zany. Not because of horrible things - just really, really busy. I suspect that my hombres are experiencing similar things.

2. As I may have mentioned in other posts, I am a fan of the Miami Dolphins and University of Miami Hurricanes. This year, they are both terrible. The Hurricanes are nowhere near the greatness of their legacy, but the Dolphins are just hideous. They may in fact be one of the single worst teams in the history of the NFL. Ugly.

3. Continuing with sports topics: I hate the New England Patriots. I just hate them.

4. I realized today that as of this coming weekend, I will have known my two hombres for exactly twenty years. Really. I met you guys when I came to visit our beloved alma mater on the weekend after Thanksgiving during my senior year of high school. Vinnissimo let me sleep on the floor of his dorm room (and thanks again for that) and Teo let me watch his band rehearse for rock ensemble class. (Was it a Dokken tune? Seriously, I think it was.) So, for twenty years of friendship, I say thanks to you both.

You know, after I wrote that, I realized that I have nothing to top that. I'll stop now. 20 years. Wow.

Fire update, part 2

Winds have shifted and the fire is now no longer a threat in our area. Everything good that one can say about firefighters should be said. We're back home and safe. Thanks for the kind thoughts and wishes.

Fire update

Hi all,

Quick update:

First off, thanks for the emails and texts of concerns. It is much appreciated. The quick skinny is that we Pinatas live close to the area where the Harris fire is currently burning. We were subject to a voluntary evacuation yesterday afternoon and headed out to stay with some friends who live about 4 miles or so to the west. We've been here since yesterday afternoon and will probably just remain here for a day or so until the fire subsides or is brought under control. The photo you see was taken with my phone last night - I was about half a mile from the fire line for the Harris fire. The line was probably 3 miles east of my house.

The advance information we're being provided is very good - the whole "reverse 911" thing works really well.

No need to worry about us. We're just fine and the information and care available around the county is really great. That said, something like 500,000 people in the county have been evacuated from their homes, so we're all just sort of punting until we can go home safely. But no worries right now.

Fire!

I owe both of my fellow hombres return phone calls, but I can't get phone calls out today because the big San Diego firestorm deal is swamping communications. So, apologies to both of you, because I'd wanted to take my days off this week (today and tomorrow) to get in touch, but it's really tough to get any calls in our out right now. That said, my internet connection works fine. Which is nice.

So what am I doing with my time right now? Reading Fireblog!

Don't worry. We're fine. No stress.

Back from Vacation

In honor of Teo, I will be the one channeling Larry King today. Random thoughts:

1. Recently got back from a visit back east. The extended Pinata family greets the other Hombres, both of whom are fondly remembered and sent warm thoughts and wishes. I was able to enjoy some fall colors, fresh NY apples right from the tree, and generally had a great time. Spent some time in one of my favorite places on Earth and ate at Doug's Fish Fry. In my perfect world, I would spend half the year there and the other half in America's Finest City.

2. Had to make a grocery store run on Friday night and had to deal with Phil Collins singing "Something Happened on the Way to Heaven" over the store's sound system. To wit:

We had a life, we had a love,
But you don't know what you've got 'til you lose it
Well that was then and this is now
And I want you back
How many times can I say I'm sorry?
Yes, I'm sorry
How can something so good go so bad?
How can something so right go so wrong?
But I don't know, I don't have all the answers
But I want you back
How many times can I say I'm sorry

You can run, and you can hide
But I'm not leaving less you come with me
We've had our problems but I'm on your side
You're all I need, please believe in me

Seriously, is there anyone on earth who has as much talent as he does and yet sucks so much? It's like he stopped trying sometime around, oh, maybe 1987 or something. I really lived with his early solo records and had a special place in my heart for Phil, but he just seemed to give up on us right after "No Jacket Required". (On the other hand, "No Jacket Required" included "Sussudio" and "One More Night", so maybe he gave up earlier than I'm suggesting.)

But the guy is so ridiculously talented and it's like he just gets lazy. What irritates me most is that I try really, really hard and still write pretty crappy songs. Phil could actually write brilliant stuff but just doesn't seem to want to put the effort into it to make it happen.

So I bought some liquid ibuprofen while Phil was bugging me.

3. I saw "The Bourne Ultimatum" - or whatever the most recent one was this summer - and I thought it was pretty fun. So Mrs. Pinata and I rented the first movie in the series ("The Bourne Identity"), which was also a fun watch. So, I figured that I'd check out a Ludlum book and see if they were a fun read. Unfortunately, none of the Bourne series was in the library that day, so I picked up Robert Ludlum's "The Tristan Betrayal". Here is what I have learned:

Robert Ludlum died in 2001. This book was published in 2003. So, um, he didn't write this book. I should have picked up on this fact when I saw the little trademark logo next to his name, which indicates that Robert Ludlum is now a brand name like Coca Cola or McDonalds. But I didn't catch that in advance.

Whoever is ghost writing (in this case, as close to a literal sense of the word as is possible) is utterly ridiculous. By way of example, here is the opening sentence of the book:

Moscow, August 1991

The sleek black limousine, with its polycarbonate-laminate bullet-resistant windows and its run-flat tires, its high-tech ceramic armor and dual-hardness carbon-steel armor plate, was jarringly out of place as it pulled into the Bittsevsky forest in the southwest area of the city.

Seriously? Really. I'm not kidding. You're serious? That's how you want to open? Any other details of the vehicle you'd care to share? The sleek limousine, with its dual cigarette lighters, locking glove compartment, finely tuned AM-FM radio, and rough vinyl floor mats...

So I barely made it through the first page. But I figured that this whole Ludlum industry must be big for a reason, so I soldiered on through the book, which is 519 pages long. However, I only made it to page 76 before I gave up. Why? Because the following was on page 76:

"But you believe Stalin really trusts Hitler?" Metcalfe shot back. "Those two madmen are like scorpions in a bottle!"

"Indeed, but they need each other," Corcoran said, exhaling smoke through his nostrils luxuriantly.

Look, I'm sure the actual Robert Ludlum was the cat's meow with regard to Cold-War-themed spy thrillers, but this crap is ridiculous. I'm not sure which is worse, the "scorpions in a bottle" line or the two word combo "nostrils luxuriantly". (Which is, by the way, a great name for a band. I know we're not allowed to say that anymore, but I can't resist.)

I have given up on the Ludlum book.

4. The Padres broke my heart. The Dolphins and Hurricanes continue to do so. It has been a long fall for me as a sports fan.

Kevlar Will Watch Twice

Watch to the end. Balls.

An Important Review

Yes, Hombres, I attended my first Rush show in 21 years last night. Ridiculous, right? Right. Truth be told, I drove 112 miles and paid stupid dollars to do it. But you know what? Worth it.

The guys can still play. Absolutely. In fact, dare I say (and I do), they played everything with about 98% accuracy. For lots of bands/musicians, that would be a total turnoff. But not with these guys. That's what they're about. And if people complain about that, then the show is not designed to make them happy anyway. The critics that complain about the cold calulation of the music are the ones that don't get it...you don't go to a Rush show for either groove or improvisation. Nope. Not to be found. But that is not a critique from this critic, because the context matters, and the Rush context demands accuracy of a few dozen thousand riffs that have been memorized by the multitudes for well over 30 years of geekdom.

So.

Geddy: As time goes by, he's a better singer (howls of laughter from the critics), and he seems like a genuinely likable guy. Very good musician in his context. He seemed pretty badass to me, and believe me, I'd be ready to tell you that he had lost it. But I don't think he's lost it...I think he's better than he used to be, more comfortable fronting the band and playing and having fun.

Alex: Alex! As time goes on, he has become my favorite Rush member. Far and away. He's the soul of the band. He's the one with the taste (more howls of laughter from critics), he's the one with the texture, the subtlety, the nuance, and the Guitar Rock God moments. He never lets you down. He's got the coolest riffs in the joint, and he has more fun than anyone on that stage. He's lost some weight (I REALLY wanted to call my last band "Fat Alex"), and he plays an absolutely badass collection of Les Pauls. Alex is the man, and I wish I could hear him play with other musicians. I think he's the one guy in the band that could absolutely play with other people and still sound great. Alex makes me happy, and it was a ball to watch him play last night. Go Alex!

Neil: I've bashed Neil far more than I've praised him in the last five years, and that has been hard to do since he's the #1 guy for me in my formative years. As much as I talk about Stewart, it was about Neil. Stew was important and way "cooler," and I got to hang out with him, but it was always about Neil first. Embarassing, yes, but true. So Neil really impressed me last night, because I've recently found his playing and personality so damn depressing. And you know what? You don't have to be a rock star. If you hate it that much, turn in your sticks. And I had been just done with his dour attitude and cold approach in the last handful of years. But he actually smiled once and possibly twice last night, and that's a lot for him, and it did a lot for me. Besides the fact that he's still a badmotherfucker. Repetitive? For sure. Silly? Yep. But badass. And if you don't think so, then it's not about you anyway. For what he does, he's still the best in the biz, and the dude is 55. He played freakin' great. Futher, his solo...which I was not wanting to hear because he has played roughly the same solo for about 30 years (see: all the live recordings and DVDs for proof). My reaction to the solo last night: First half of the solo was freakin mind blowing awesome, and worthy of his drum god status. Second half of the solo was an embarassment and pathetic and depressing, and totally brought me down. I have more thoughts on this that I may share in a later post. But that first half was fucking balls on rock god badass motherfucker drum solo. That's what he's about, and I'll give him a 50% on the total drum solo, but that 50% was 100% on the money.

They had a hysterical intro to Tom Sawyer, which you can see here and other places. The last coupla seconds of that vid gives a good visual of what the show looked like. And yes, those are roasting chickens behind Geddy in place of his bass rig.

The crowd: I'd say 95% dudes. White. Waiste size 42 or greater. Lots of goatees (doh!). Air drummers. Bad hair (mulletts and bald, sometimes both). People talking about Dream Theater (oh say it ain't so).

Me: In the crowd (goatee, some air drumming, some air guitar, very sad indeed).

Totally fun show.