Showing posts with label Rice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rice. Show all posts

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Crowd-Pleasing Bullets

Well, *apparently* album reviews are not certain readers cups of tea. And while some may ignore their readers' beverages of choice and post about the 21st century max-banal*, I am nothing if not a slave to my single-digit** readership. The people want Ulty updates? The people get Ulty updates. Abbreviated, ill-informative bullet-form updates - mildly appropriate given emoticon-titled subject posts - but updates nonetheless. The last few weeks, in (insert Megadeth scream here) BULLETS!!!

* - I kid, I kid. But seriously, you didn't think you could rag on my album reviews on facebook sans repercussion, did ya? :) But really, cute stuff from the Mark. If I'm ever forced to cover him in an Ultimate game, I will just say, "I've got Iheartyou."

** - My DFW impulse to clarify that "single digit" is a description of the quantity of the readership and not their individual mutant and/or shop-class-related finger-and-toe-statuses*** is kicking in. Clarified?

*** - My sensitive-'90s-ponytail-guy-sans-the-ponytail (and probably the sensitivity) impulse to clarify that there is nothing wrong with missing nineteen fingers/toes is kicking in. Morally or essentially wrong, I mean; let's be honest, you're probably going to deal with some functional difficulties in life, not the least of which will be throwing a flick**** and/or typing "Eff you Nyet" into the comments below in a timely fashion.

**** - See? Ulty content. In the fourth paragraph!
  • When we last left our Sprawling heroes, they had won the Open Division of the Colorado Cup, even whilst missing famed superathlete co-captain Dheintime. This apparently went directly to the entire team's collective heads, as the plan - ramp up practices in August in preparation for the start of the Open Series proper in September - fell flat on its collective face. We started having attendance problems almost immediately as the month clicked "8," struggling to get sixteen-to-eighteen people out to the fields. And sixteen-to-eighteen people - particularly when that sixteen-to-eighteen is partially comprised of four-to-five non-Sprawlers - does not make for effective practicing with your top lines. Boo-urns.
  • I can hardly talk, as I continue to be a mysteriously malaised, topping out at 75% wreck. Seriously, it's been better, but I'm still fading out here and there, and it got bad enough that I missed a couple of practices in there. Think about it - Nyet, willingly skipping Ulty practices! Not even going! Egads! The good news is that I've pursued all kinds of standard-issue medical explanations, and nothing overtly serious is going on. So put your worries away - cardiologists, pathologists, even surgeons assure me that everything is fine and this is merely some post-viral badness. One of those tests involved an incision and sitting out of all athletic activity for a week-plus - that was awesome - so maybe now you're starting to get an idea of why I haven't been entirely enthused about writing about Ultimate lately.
  • Again, just to emphasize, DO NOT WORRY, and DO NOT WRITE me with bizarro speculations. "Nothing is effed here, dude," as Lebowski would say, so other than sympathizing with my suffering suckitude of late, you don't need to expend another thought on the health of Nyet. I'm fine. And raring to go for this weekend, taboot.
  • Random side note - my funniest self-joke of the past month? Well, I'm still tracking my diet, which has been extra challenging with the sporadic cessations of exercise. But I'm maintaining my weight and eating well. Huzzah. The joke, though, is that the first self-e-mail chain I used to track things back in January was entitled "Food Diary." After a couple of months, I got tired of scrolling so far down the screen and created "Food Diary II." Then the nutritionist wanted me to track carbs / protein, so I started "Food Diary III." Tracking carbs means keeping track of a bit more info, so it was convenient to keep on elong e-mail and copy-paste frequent foods rather than repeatedly look them up. So this time I let the scrolling go long. And it turns out that e-mail threads in gmail max out at 99 messages; after that, it changes to "Re: Food Diary III." Annoying! So I had to start a new thread. Its title? "Food Diary Zoso." I. Am. Hilarious. Even if you don't get that particular joke, appreciate the meta-joke of having read one of the more mundane paragraphs e'er featured on this blog. Outside, you know, those dreaded album reviews.
  • NEhoo, our solution to the attendance problem was to back it down to an optional practice on Mondays and a mandatory one on Wednesdays. This helped somewhat, but the curse of Phoenix-summer continued to afflict, and we continued to have problems. J-Ro even berated the team in an e-mail with the subject, "WTF?" When the excessively chilly and ubercool J-Ro gets feathers a-rufflin', things are problematic.
  • We did (at least) continue to SLUG it out on Saturdays, occasionally having some stellar games. So there's been a thread of competition throughout, even if the practice issues have caused a lot of consternation.
  • Speaking of consternation, we (in case I haven't mentioned it here yet) are going to be playing the series without stalwart Garret, who has run into way too much work and a new PhD program this fall. We're also going to be missing BP for sectionals (ugh), but it's better that way than having him miss regionals. And Cole has been 100% AWOL - I am relatively certain that I haven't seen him since CO Cup. Now, again, I missed three practices in there, but by all accounts, dude has just been GONE. So, um, that's disconcerting. Hopefully he rolls in this weekend to grab his reserved seat on the Pepsi Max Where-Have-You-Been-Dude? Bench. I mean, I'm one to talk, but I know where I was. Hopefully it's just been scheduling conflicts and not a dedication issue. Either way, communication is preferred.
  • Speaking of, sectionals this weekend. Exciting times. We're carrying a roster of 23 and facing off against Monsoon, Le Tigre, El Ponderosa, ASU and U of A. You'll note the conspicuous lack of a Sweet Roll there - they have split between a master's squad and a co-ed team that could give Barrio a run. Pretty sure I mentioned this in the CO Cup writeup, but we never got that last official crack at 'em. Oh, well. Sectionals, fwiw, is conveniently located at the Scottsdale Sports Complex in Sunny Azz, so if you're around, be around! We play pretty much all day both days.
  • I am sure all of that sectionals talk has you wondering how things have been going lately. Well, we changed practice fields to Eastern M(es)A in September, and have been making the trek to the east coast on Wednesdays for two hours of intense scrimmaging fun. Last week we played vert stack to give our D a look at the alternative O set, and then had to the D give the O lines nasty poaching sets. With the latter, we let the D play with eight guys - eight on seven! - and we still managed to score a good amount of the time. So hopefully that'll have us ready for the junk defenses our man-O will likely inspire.
  • I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that things are intense enough at practice that some people on our D line - lets call them "& the Argonauts" and, um, "Red-headed Electrolyte" - got in an argument over coverage responsibilities that escalated in approximately six seconds into a drag-out, pit-bull-death-grip fight/wrestling match. YOWSERS! Shades of Nyet v. Ariel, 2002! (No, not really; we just yelled a lot. I don't think I'd seen a *physical* fight at a frisbee practice EVER before - you'll very, very occasionally see skirmishes at tourneys, but this was two guys who know each other at each other's throats with intent to harm). The whole thing was uncomfortable - it was broken up quickly and everyone was fine, so no biggie in the end. And the intensity was good to see on some abstract level, I suppose. But still. Eesh.
  • So of course after all that quality O and leading-to-fights defensive intensity, we came out Saturday to SLUG and played sloptastic frisbee. Just didn't look good at all, tons of turns, people tired, leading to a lot of "glad sectionals is next weekend" sidebars. Ugh.
  • Then fast forward to last night, where things looked a little better, but I - clicking on maybe three of my eight cylinders - managed to have a terrible, terrible practice. Qualify it - I was fine, more or less, for the "O" part of practice (when we were playing 7 against 8 and not allowed to throw it upside-down to simulate, as best we can, windy conditions) , and just had a really bad stretch of throws in the middle of the D section of practice, where we were running a vertical stack O. I probably took it too hard - it was just an exceptionally bad stretch of about ten minutes or so - but wow, can't go through that this weekend. I am sure the 106 degree forecast will help with that tremendously. Ugh, again.
  • But all else considered, it was a good, hard, well-attended practice. Hard to know how we'll look this weekend, but for the first time in six weeks or so, we get to play someone other than ourselves, and that's always nice.
  • So how are we feeling re: the weekend? Well, on some level, it's immaterial; all the teams who want to can go to regionals. I.e., our finish doesn't *really* matter. But we (obviously) want to win the section for seeding purposes, so we're going to have to crack down and get over the spottiness of late. Hopefully we will manage to play well AND work on our game, as regionals is still sitting as the smack-us-upside-the-head sudden change in intensity. We just don't have the same opportunities as JB and SG to engage serious competition at tourneys yet, so I envision a wake-up call in our future that we may or may not respond too with enough juice. All of that said, we look as good as we ever have of late, the people who are rolling out to practice are flat out bringing it, and there's adequate excitement in the air. O is crispy even without our blond deep threat, and D bothers me at practice, which is pretty much my barometer for goodness. So the weekend should be fun and enlightening. Wish us luck.
  • In non-Sprawl Ulty news, my league team "The Way to Wikki Wakka" is 1-1, having staked out big leads which were choked away in both of the first two games. If I didn't mention it, my spring co-captain Lindsey is out for a bit with bad back issues (no!), but the league director made the sweetest - literally, sweetest - okay, you caught me, that would be figurative - of lemonades out of the situation for me and allowed me to captain with Jenga. She's a PHXaion / Spitfire player who is solid AND notorious for shattering all happiness/coolness scales, so despite our precarious play in the first couple of weeks, we're having a great time. Our team is the usual mix of skill/experience/talent - I'll do a full scale writeup at some point - but suffice it for now to say that I'm doing my best to run that team while my energies are really focused on and, more importantly, accustomed-to-the-level-of-play-of, Sprawl. So if I don't seem my usual fired-up-self with ridiculous VOTS game posts and such, it's only as an act of maintaining balance and not getting frustrated with the inevitable Sprawl-to-VOTS drop-off. I'm sure things will return to the usual VOTS-detail-obsessed state once I hang up these club cleats for good.
  • In news a further step removed from Ultimate, school is back on. I have a relatively light semester courseload-wise, though I am writing this post at breakneck speed during a half-hour break from reading one of many five hundred page books that are staring me down. I am (allegedly) defending my prospectus at some point this semester, and continue to feel woefully unprepared. At least I don't have to grade undergrad essays this semester and can actually spend some time getting down to the brass tacks of, among other things, post-Darwinian evolutionary ethics. I know you're intrigued.
  • As a final removed step, congrats to good friend Reena and her new husband Rob - the Nyetfam, Beck and I headed down to Dallas a couple of weekends back to attend her traditional Hindi wedding and had a fantastic time. We used the opportunity to spend Labor Day weekend in Texas and a good time seeing Aaron & Kristen, Grandpa, Deb, Pat & Ron, and my parents in various contexts, most of which involving delicious food. We *may* have even gotten my family hooked on grilled pineapple! May.
Hope that scratches the itch. Sectionals writeup due next week, though hopefully it will be a relatively boring weekend. We shall, as always, see.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

All I Ever Wanted (Summer 2010): Prelude

Before I post a brief account of Beck's and my excellent vacation, I've got to address a blogging omission from last year. In May/June 2009 - a period that you'll notice via the archives link now to your left, has no entries - we traveled to New Orleans for the rare wedding of the Speckle-bellied Jullietta (where we had a great time AND lunch with Tuftsbud Mall Tatt) and to New York for Tuftsbud Andy's wedding. Additionally, we ended up staying in NYC with Mike NTPB and had a fantastic time kicking it around the wedding-time with him and his now-fiancee Jen. And then, in the Ballad of record, I wrote things like:

1. Julliette got married! Huzzah! We went to New Orleans. I will post about this.
2. Andy got married. Huzzah deux!!! We went to Long island. I will post about this.
3. I saw Mike whilst in Nueva York! And new SLF Jen! I will post about this.

And nary a post did I write. I made a liar out of me!

A year later, I barely remember anything, so I'm not even going to attempt to provide the usual rich narrative. But any monkey with a typewriter can post a million pics to Flickr - so apologies for the year-old vacation slideshow nature of this post, but here's a smattering of pics from New Orleans and a slew of pics from Andy's wedding. I obviously didn't manage to catch Matt or Mike in either set (though Matt makes appearances in the latter), but trust that we had a great time with both - hit some great local dive Southern food (jambalya, etc.) and a local favorite dive burger joint with Miguel. So, we... dived? Anyhoo, good visits, sorry I didn't account for them int eh relative present tense, and here are some fun highlights.

DSCF5357 DSCF5331 DSCF5329

That's the imitable Chris Coco, former Rice Cloud Nine teammate and general superstar of life, let alone Ultimate; two of my favorite ladies and a Nyet; and a beautiful work of art (also, there's a sculpture in the pic). Here's the winner memory of the weekend, natch: the lovely Julietta in full regalia:

DSCF5352

For the Andy wedding, I'll just post and let you figure out what the hey is going on. That's right, NO CONTEXT (okay, minimal context). Other than to say that this was a fantastic event, I'll never forget Josh and Nicole getting crazy to Meat Loaf's "Paradise By the Dashboard Light," yes, that is Josh and I pulling off a slick "Beat It" / West Side Story knife fight dance, and I am more than a little worried about how many more times we can pull off "Paradise City" as Tuftsmen wedding routine (no, not really - it's too awesome, and too many different people get their domes blown at the different weddings for it to die). Okay, phew, enjoy:

Picture 1
Picture 2
Picture 5

Jesse, Nyet, Andy, Ariel, Blake, Jon, Elliot, Ian, Mike "MAZ"
Mall Tatt, Josh, Zach

Picture 7 Picture 8 Picture 9
Picture 17 Picture 14 Picture 18

Josh in full-on bad-ass mode:

Picture 15
Picture 23
Picture 19

Spot the inappropriate couple:

Picture 16 Picture 11 Picture 24

Paradise:

Picture 21

And the cute, happy couple ... being inappropriate:

Picture 25
Picture 27

All pics yoinked from a professional photographer or some such. Will gladly remove, etc.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Glad My Car Has a Cupholder (Part 2)

For something new and different, I snapped awake in the Louisville, CO, hotel room at 5:30 (4:30 Sunny Azz time - why?). Everything was good to go; I sun-blocked up in a stupor and rolled downstairs for breakfast. The fellow Sprawlers all slowly accompanied me in the lobby, and it soon became clear that Cole and EBay had been pranking me - Cole was fine*. Ian decided to give his knee a go, and though I still wasn't positive, I thought I could give it a go, too. So in a few short hours and over an oh-so-familiar of Quaker Maple and Brown Sugar Instant Oatmeal, things had turned a hair brighter. The gameplan was to get people out of the hotel and headed toward the fields by 7:15 or so, and it more or less worked out that people left by 7:30, which, let's all admit, was the goal all along. Beck had plans to go running at altitude with one of her friends from Boulder and plans to go to coffee / lunch after that. So we parted ways for the day, and I headed down to the fields, catching a ride with Ian and BP. We were among the first teams at the field, but there's no harm in that, methinks.

* - What was wacky was not that they had fooled me or anything, but that I had such a non-reaction to it - my first thought at the news of Cole's broken leg was "well, that figures," not "Oh no!" Pessimism has its regulatory advantages when things turn out badly. Or... are joked about turning out badly, I guess.

So after checking out the scene for a few minutes and confirming our first field, I cleated up, braced up, and got ready to go. Got the team rolling into our pregame routine and jogged over to the captain's meeting at 8:15. Pretty low key affair - unlike recent tourneys which lacked basic Ultimate necessities like water and oxygen, the folks in charge of Colorado Cup (Boulder's GRUB) know what's going on and had all the gears in place. Food, trainer, water, massages, you name it. Beautiful fields taboot. (Actually, other than double booking us on a field on Sunday, the weekend could not have gone smoother from a tourney perspective - props to those guys). (Wait, withdrawn - the pizzas they got us on Saturday were wack. Four larges per team - that's 32 slices for the 21 guys on Sprawl, if you're into math - and the breakdown was one meat, one cheese and two veggie. I am confident a treehugging Boulderite was in charge of the 75% vegetarian-friendly call). Everything was in order; games to fifteen all day long with no unusual rules in place. We were in the open division, just like last year, where we had gone 3-4 (and 2-4 three years ago, 2-5 four years ago); CO Cup also has an elite division, featuring the likes of Johnny Bravo and GOAT and Furious George and such over the years, but we are not quite there yet. The pools were a little odd - there were 9 other open teams, so instead of the usual pool play on Saturday, elimination play on Sunday setup, we were to do a faux round robin and play seven of the other teams between Saturday and Sunday. The top two finishing teams then square off in the finals. On the plus side, everybody gets seven games at minimum; on the minus, it seems a little susceptible to luck of the draw in the who-you-don't-play department. Good deal nonetheless, as avoiding the two pools of five setup meant no byes throughout the day - no fun to travel that far to spend two hours of the day sitting around.

I got back to the team after the captain's meeting to find Sprawl fully in gear and getting ready to scrimmage; I took a couple of laps on my own and sprinted a bit to test things out. I didn't feel great at all - seemed to be topping at out at, oh, 80% energy, but I thought that could probably get me through a day of O-line only play. Came back, ran a few points in our scrimmage and couldn't really keep up with people on D but felt just fine on O, so I gave myself an amber-shade-of-green light for the day.

First game was against long-time rival Sweet Roll. Word on the street (field?) is that the boys from New Mexico are increasing their chances for a nationals appearance by teaming up with the girls from new Mexico and going co-ed - we ran into the co-ed version of New Mexico at Mohini, and indeedily, they look quite good as a two-gender unit. This is sort of unfortunate from an Ultimate drama standpoint - Sweet Roll was established well before Sprawl, and the two teams have always been very friendly with one another. They are, in short, great guys with whom we get along swimmingly. But they are also guys who have beaten Sprawl every time the two teams have squared off. So it's long been a goal of Sprawl's to "beat Sweet Roll," regardless of how warm-fuzzy we feel about them. We took them to double game point (or something close) last year at sectionals and couldn't convert, so now with Sweet Roll disassembling, Sprawl will not really get the chance to beat them in the club series and get the torch passed or what have you. Sad.

But that's okay, because enough of Sweet Roll came to Colorado Cup that game one of Saturday represented a sort of last chance to break through the Sweet Roll barrier, and Sprawl did not disappoint. Both days were very mild wind-wise, a factor that played sharply in Sprawl's windless-Valley-of-the-Sun hometown favor. The D-lines came out swinging, putting the Phoenix crew up 3-0 before NM knew what had hit them. And with turnover-free play from Sprawl's offense in the first half, the good guys were up 8-3 in a blink. More of the same with a little less focus in the second half, and this epic turning of the tides was anything but - Sprawl won in a 15-7 relative no contest.

Before I get crazy rolling with this, I should just throw out who was there. Your 2010 Colorado Cup Sprawl Traveling Squad:

Sprawl@ColoradoCup2010

Trant, Joe K, Dixon, Jim, Vince, Cole, BP, Josh, Griesy, Skunk, Ebay, Big Nate, Will
Paul, Kyle, Nyet, J-Ro, Aaron "32 Ounces of Ice" H., Rob, Studer, Ian

Great group, and what we figured out really quickly was yes, we have the studs to run with anyone, but we also have an exceptionally deep team - when people fall into their roles properly, having 21 guys that you can just send in waves at the opponent is downright oppressive. Sweet! I'll throw in some individual play commentary at some point here, but good enough for now to have those pretty guys' pictures upfront so you can visualize the goodness.

Really, I'm afraid that this writeup is going to be somewhat boring - the Sweet Roll game was pretty indicative of what was to come all weekend. Our O was, for the most part, downright clinical - we scored on 89% of our O points, 67% of our possessions, and 68% of the time we received the pull, we marched it down and scored sans turnover*. A team that is hardly giving up any breaks to speak of like that is going to be tough to beat, and on top of that, our D lines were pressuring opponents like crazy, forcing mistakes and scoring at a 57% clip themselves. The D-line play occasionally failed to differentiate their hot D from their chilly O - i.e., sometimes overly aggressive, chancy O attempts followed aggressive D play, and we turned it over unnecessarily - but as a squad, we stayed positive didn't get down on any mistakes, and continued to ramp it up. Just a pretty weekend - better teams will not make it so easy on us, but we took care of bidness, as they say, and were remarkably efficient.

* - My memory of all the games this weekend will look like this: J-Ro or EBay catches the pull, flips it to me. Griesy or BP's man is playing behind them by five yards, so BP/Griesy takes the easy fifteen yard gain. If it's BP, he flips to Griesy who then hucks it to Cole for a goal; if it's BP, he hits Dixon, who flips it back to J-Ro, who swings it to me, who breaks the mark to Griesy, who hucks it to Cole. Rinse, repeat. I can't emphasize enough that I spent a good deal of my weekend jogging behind the play; not to say that I didn't have to run and play hard on occasion, but I have no doubt that the smoothness of our O was the only thing that got me and my low tank of energy through the weekend.

On to game 2 against a somewhat older crew from Tucson, Monsoon. Same story - D-lines got us off to a great start, O-lines refused to turn it over - the whole team only turned it over four times this game, sheesh - and things rolled to a quick 15-5 rout. Time and again, teams stopped against us this weekend - even if things were contested at first, Sprawl effectively convinced opponents that there was no real point to running hard. So there was a general pattern of man defense for the first half followed by a few half-hearted attempts at zone that got diced, and then a fair bit of seemingly going through the motions. At times, it was hard to keep Sprawl's focus - we definitely sputtered more often in the last few points of games while up big, and given our capacity to let teams back into it (see Daweena), that's a tendency we'll want to kill.

Things changed quite a bit for game 3 against Flux, an Austin team featuring none other than my Rice teammate Marcus "Cuse!" Gavin. Again, Flux couldn't stop our offense, but we had some trouble stopping theirs, too - they ran a vertical stack, the first one we've seen in a while, and ran some nice plays where they dinked it around until they could huck to a good matchup. It confused us effectively, and after they came down in Z got a couple of extremely uncharacteristic turns from Joe K, they took half 8-6, up by two (!) breaks. Impressively, we did not sweat it at all, instead trying to figure out how to crack their O - we ended up running some hybrid D's with a lot of switching / last-backing, and with a break right after half another shortly thereafter, our D pulled it back to 10-10. They continued to Z us, we continued to be exceptionally calm with the disc on the O side, and eventually our deeper squad caught up with them: another break at 11-11 to put us ahead, and another break at 13-12 to put us out in front by two for good. This was a fantastic game - only 8 turns on our side, and just 9 by them, with an extraordinarily clean second half from our team. And it was great to play against a former teammate who was definitely their team's *guy* - seems the Rice factory continues to produce. I'm sorry, make that The Rice University.

We ended day one with a four turnover, same-as-it-ever-was win against Inception (a team who, by contemporariness of team name alone, you can tell had to be a local pickup squad). We ran off to a 5-0 lead and never really looked back - again, just too much athleticism and too many pairs of legs carrying it. 15-4 was the final, and we did a much better job of keeping the whole team locked in during this one. The early finish gave us great seats for the showcase game, a Universe point showdown between local favorites Johnny Bravo and the Canadian GOAT; the Canucks took it in an upset, and we enjoyed that mightily over all 32 pieces of our pizza.

Beck had a great day and joined us for the first half of the showcase game; she and I left at halftime and considered going to a divey-ish Boulder bar called the Dark Horse but thought better of their limited menu and headed back to the hotel and downtown Louisville. We ended up settling on a place called Waterloo for dinner, and yes, Austinites, that is the same Waterloo as Waterloo Records - the place was decked out in music label gear and had some Texas fare on the menu, too. Despite spending much of the day jogging on the field and watching Griesy huck it to Cole, I was starving, so I engaged in my usual mid-tourney caloric absurdity - bread, Guinness, asparagus cheese dip, a bowl of tomato bisque, mini-grilled cheese sandwiches, more bread, a potato burger* w/ cheese and a big plate-ful of fries replaced whatever I burned on the field during the day. Very, very good. We made it back to the hotel relatively early - 10-ish - and I packed our week-plus worth of stuff to put it in the car the next morning and set my Ulty clothes out for championship Sunday.

* - Ground beef w/ mixed shredded potato that maintains the moisture of the burger (supposedly). 'Twas excellent.

TBC...

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Food-Bloggin' / The Perils of Nutrition(ists)

First thing's first: crack open your last book of the New Testament and take ye some notes, because moons are blood red and horsemen are saddling up: The Beck has started a blog. It's called Cooking For Elaine and is based on a simple yet awesome premise - our L.A.-homed Rice friend Elaine wanted to know how to eat well and variously, and Beck knows exactly how to do that sort of thing with aplomb. So Beck was posting her recipes on facebook after cooking each night, and Elaine was living a sort of Nyetverse, time-lag existence, copying our meals a day later. And after about the fourth post, the Beck asked,"wouldn't it be nice to keep this separate from my daily activities / wouldn't it be nice to have a record of the things I cook for those days when I am not as inspired?" So she started up the blog, and voila. I'm encouraging her to backpost some recipes from the previous weeks and hopefully also some "greatest hits" sorts of meals from the past, which I suppose violates the exact spirit of things, but I think would be a great resource. All of this is to say check out Beck's blog* and comment away; should be a good time and a fun resource.

* - As soon as I am done writing this, he wrote self-referentially, I will put a link to CFE up to the right. Beck has a perma-link to my blog under the subsection "Fun Blogs" (to distinguish it from "Food Blogs!"), which puts a lot more pressure on me to be a fun individual with cool, engaging content, rather than the snarling / spiking negative-nellie yang of the two-headed Sprawl captainship I've been of late. So much pressure! I'll do my best...

My initial temptation was to parody a CFE post here and have just a picture of a lean pocket or something*, but my culinary adventure this afternoon steered me away. Allow me to explain... they say people don't change, but maybe Beck will back me up here - I really have been making a concerted effort to eat new things and in more variety of late. We tried to figure out the other night from what this stemmed - whether it was one night where Beck inspired me to try the tart froyo, or whether two solid months of the same breakfast / lunch combo finally drove me to seek out some spice-of-life. But lately, I've been eating hot sauces, pepper, yogurts, pineapple, strawberry-shakes, etc., all kinds of things you never would have guessed in the past. I've always had an "I'll try anything once" attitude - again, Beck can attest - but more of them have been sticking lately. I even ate some onions (begrudgingly) out of a tortilla soup (another thing I probably would not have tried in the past) recently, and did not die. So hooray for making changes in my middle age; whether it was weight-loss-inspired** or no, I've been living with gustatory gusto lately, and I'll take it.

* - I'll cut Frank off here by reiterating that I just love me some Lean Pocket; they served me really well in my weight-loss program, and they're tasty, protein-rich meals that couldn't be easier to prepare / savor. I'm not under any pretense that they're great food - they could certainly use less sodium, among other things - but for what they are, they mos def*** get the job done. I actually wrote my friends at LP inc. recently and thanked them for their effective product, and they rewarded me with what ended up being coupons for three free boxes of LPs. Woohoo! And I've rediscovered my love of the Mexican-Style Chicken & Cheese LP (not to be confused with the Ween-style Chocolate & Cheese LP). Even on sale at 2 for $1.99, it's not quite as good of a deal as the 12 pepperoni LPs for $9.99, but I'll take the sixteen cent hit for the, hey, whaddyaknow, variety.

** - Some things I neglected to mention in the recent self-congratulatory narci-fest post on weight-loss. Skip this if you're tired of hearing / thinking about this topic, which I am pretty sure I am thinking about too much (more on that below):

1. Substitution helped, too - I know I noted that I "ate the same stuff," but upon reflection, I did make some significant changes. I put sorbet and frozen yogurt strictly in place of ice cream, burrito bowls in place of burritos, egg whites in place of eggs, turkey in place of beef, cheese pizza in place of pepperoni, low-sugar oatmeal in place of regular,etc. It took some doing, but I relatively quickly got to the point where my tastes were oriented towards the substitute. I.e., regular oatmeal tasted very sugary; ice cream seemed too thick. (I've had a couple of milkshakes at zinburger lately that, while extraordinarily delicious, just struck me as indulgent - I enjoy my homemade protein shakes at home almost as much, and they have to be half the calories). I bring this up here because the "trying new things" phase as has been brought about in part by my efforts to substitute, which I suppose makes sense. And it really does seem like once one thing fell - hey, vanilla yogurt isn't bad at all! - lots of other "exotic" things that I would not necessarily have been drawn to previously started making headway, too. Like mango tangerine sorbet. Who am I anymore?

2. I mentioned this, but "do not self-deny" served as a good guide, too. Paul asked me recently something to the effect of "didn't you get hungry?," and the short answer is yes, originally, but I got past that by just controlling the situation. If I got hungry, I could eat chips or whatever, I just had to dole them out in rationed fashion beforehand and be careful. And again, the routine breakfast / lunch combos left me plenty of margin for error in the afternoons, so even if I got hungry, I could play the "just wait until you get home game" and then dive into a caloric snack.

3. Speaking of chips... don't eat chips. No, really, nonchalant munching was a habit I just had to break - those free chips and salsa at the Mexican joints add up quickly. It is very hard to count tortilla chips, so this was one thing I just had to outlaw. And oddly enough, I haven't really had the heart to go back to them... sadness.

4. I'll shut up about this - but I used the word "discipline," and that probably only gets at part of what I mean. Adhere to a set of rules and be disciplined about it, sure. But also have the self-knowledge that you will undoubtedly screw up at times, too. So make the dietary attack an all-out attack - do little things in almost every aspect of eating / exercising. More exactly, try to, because you will goof on occasion. It's better to goof on 10% of the mutlitude of things you are trying than to goof 10% of the time on the singular change, as the latter - it seems to me - can devolve into a relapse, whereas the former is just one mistake against a background throng of improved behaviors.

Example - a player who will remain nameless was talking to me about weight-loss before the scrimmage the other morning, asking for advice and strategies. And I mentioned all of this, including this last point - make the changes broadly, in everything that you're doing, particularly when you can control it. Fast forward... we're at pizza later, and said player skips on the cheese pizza in favor of the meaty "man" pizza. Not to indict him, but the difference between a cheese slice and a fully loaded meat-lover's slice is not insignificant, and it's an easy change to make relative to some of the other ones. This little event just re-emphasized the need to be holistic in approach - details will get dropped, but if you embrace the "reduce calories" mantra in all aspects, your disciplined moments will more tightly compensate your lapses.

** - Why yes, we are watching The Wire, why do you ask?

These things come with a price, of course. I just tried to cook corn on the stovetop. I put a smattering of olive oil on the top to avoid singing the corn too badly, but I got distracted by a Sparkle, and next thing I knew I had burned the olive oil onto the pan. D'oh. The corn eventually turned out okay, but there's a Cajun style frying pan in our sink that I have thus far failed to clean. So, um... the adventure has its consequences, good and bad. Sorry to the Cooking For Elaine webmaster.

Sticking with the food motif, I continue to struggle to recalibrate my diet in the maintenance phase - I feel like I'm going up and down a lot, and probably not eating enough during big periods of exercise. So there's more work to be done. But a line that was kinda buried in the weight-loss post stands out to me now:

"I do have lots of energy most of the time, though I definitely crash now and then."

This crashing has been worse and more frequent than usual over the past month or so. Before I go on, don't get all alarmed - nothing all that serious can possibly be going on, as I'm still routinely playing lots and lots of frisbee, and running long distances, and even attending tournaments at 7,000+ feet in Flagstaff with absolutely no energy problems whatsoever. So this can't be something globally or even generally wrong with the Nyet-machine. It's just that some days - including today, actually (I tried to rally and get to school today, but just couldn't do it - I'll see how I feel in a bit and perhaps head back to the doctor if some food and drinks don't make me feel better) - I feel drained, get to the gym and am not just tired but can't even get a workout going at all - just nothing in the tank. Given the shape I'm in, that I feel like I am eating enough, etc., this was a little worrisome, so I checked in with the docs on campus, had blood work, blah blah blah, etc. Predictably, nothing is wrong. Actually:

My resting pulse is back down at 41.
My BP is a nice 108/68.
My cholesterol is 168 (HDL: 79, LDL: 81).

All of the obvious stuff - anemia and relateds (rbc's, reticulocytes, hemoglobin, hematocrit, iron, b12, folate), thyroid, hydration, etc., was normal. Again, as expected; you can't exactly be crazy anemic and suddenly perform better at altitude. So the docs had little to help me. In their defense, the problem seems 1, weird, and 2, difficult to isolate: I probably haven't been getting enough sleep, drink too much caffeine, don't eat enough / the right things, have been stressing about things school and Sprawl, and am maybe working out too much. Any or all of these could be contributing, so it's probably just a situation where I need to improve things across the board and will hopefully see improvements. Which is good, because, you know, autoimmune anemia would have been annoying.

The biggest, most obvious thing, just to keep rambling about the same topic, is my food - I've lost weight and have started having a problem that I didn't have before. I relayed all of this, and the recommendation was to see a nutritionist. So, begrudgingly - you've seen a bit of my thoughts on popular notions of "health" as well as the seemingly always changing recommendations of professional dietitians - I adopted a good attitude and yesterday went in to see if a nutritionist could help.

She could not.

I'll cut this would-be rant* short - she showed me the same charts and formulas for calculating calories that I've seen online, told me things about glucose and glycogen that aren't entirely true, and recommended a GPS / heart monitor if I wanted to get detailed about calorie counting. (The one she rec'ed retails at roughly $350 - SOLID!). She recommended more fruits and veggies, and when asked what they would provide that I was missing in my currently detailed diet, she had nothing other than that they were "natural." She also recommended organic products as they "don't have so many chemicals in them." I.e., she pulled off an extraordinarily stereotypical nutritionist act and spoke in effective platitudes throughout. This was hella frustrating, and did not enlighten me in any way. UGH.

* - Okay, okay - as the Beck noted, I've got to cut her some slack, as I am perhaps in the 99th percentile of knowledgeable = annoying patients. I came in with this to cut off talk of a food journal or such:

Overall Bar Graphs

Loss Phase Graphs

Maintenance Phase Graphs

AND I showed her the e-mails of food records, gave her examples of protein / fat / carb breakdowns, fiber intake, etc. Like I've noted a thousand times, Nyet = big nerd, so I gave her a ton of detailed data to work with. And this is on the one hand good, as it gives her an opportunity to get past the usual first-stages data-gathering process of deciphering a problem because all of the info is already there. On the other hand, it completely put her on the spot - she thought she was doing an initial consult, but I came in with five months worth of data for her to analyze and devise a responsive plan to on the spot. So I was probably unfair. Still... see below.

What *killed* me, though, was the final recommendation. She gave me this story about my glycogen stores being overly-depleted (when I asked her why the same routine didn't give me any trouble when I was carrying more weight and eating fewer calories than now, speculating that my lack of fat now leaves me with less reserves, she replied that "fat doesn't matter for working out." Right...). So the $300 (probably) consultation got me the advice to "eat more carbs." Note my quote from the previous weight-loss post:

"Of course, 3000 calories is now WAY more than I'm accustomed to eating, so I find myself just tossing on cereal and sorbet at the end of the day to compensate for my now-screwed sense of pace."

You'll note that cereal and sorbet are almost entirely carbs. Or you could just note the food diary entry which I showed her (breakdowns are calories (fat/non-fiber carbs/protein)):

oats - 220 (2/44/6)
foc - 120 (2/50/4)
milk - 135 (0/20/12)
ewpc - 60 (0/3/10)
pbg - 190 (7/28/5)
g2 mini - 45 (0/12/0)
clif (p) - 270 (8/30/20)
choc mousse - 60 (3/9/1)
lp - 260 (8/35/12)
MoJo - 675 (2/160/19)
lemonade - 30 (0/1/0)
Dinner - 575 (9/76/54)
Corn x 2 - 250 (4/54/9)
Broc - 30 (0/6/2)
Chicken - 230 (5/0/43)
Pineapple - 65 (0/16/0)
mango tangerine - 200 (0/53/8)
hnc + milk - 400 (5/76/15)
popsicle - 15 (0/4/0)
------------------------
total - 3230 (46/601/166) - (414/2404/664:3482) - (12/69/19)

And note that on this fairly typical day, I got 69% of my calories from carbohydrates. 69%! I'll spare you the chore of digging through the internet to learn that the recommended diet for a full-time athlete is, yep, 70% carbs. I'm not a full-time athlete!

So really, she told me nothing. Or she told me something weird: to add carbs onto an already carb-intensive diet. So I suppose I'll try it, but the visit was disappointing at best. The thing that offends is the pretense of expertise which, as far as I could gather, turned out to be familiarity with a series of quips, all of which are either easily accessible "knowledge" or things that don't necessarily seem to apply to my particular situation. She was plenty nice and eager to help, and I shouldn't really blame her if it's nutrition science that's lacking and/or my weird symptoms that are defying an easy dietary fix. My well-ingrained skepticism gives me an itchy trigger finger in these domains, I suppose.

Of course, this bring us back to the beginning - Beck, Cooking For Elaine crafter, foodie, perpetual voice of more optimistic reason, SLF-extraordinaire - urged me to forgive the nutritionist, just take her advice on face, and try to eat more generally, and more carbs in particular. Fair enough; I'll give it a go. Beck also notes that nutritionists are probably like psychiatrists in that it's more important than with, say, a surgeon, to find one that shares your worldview. Solid point. In the meantime, I'll continue to play with my diet AND benefit from Beck's awesome cooking. SCORE. Actually, the plan is to eat at the local, recently-opened Two Hippies Pizza tonight, so I'll ask for extra crust or something. Sorry, Elaine; unless you're coming to PHX, apparently you're on your own for food for Thursday night... :)

Sunday, April 11, 2010

The Aftermath / The State of Nyet

As mentioned, the hits just keep on coming. Beck had Thursday off, so after returning the mountain of papers that Jenny and I graded (in SA / Austin and over the past week) to the class that afternoon, I met her at SMOCA so she, too, could enjoy the Close portraits and the design-in-music exhibit. This was the day after the Jon Spencer Knee Explosion, so I couldn't really walk around the museum very well, but I enjoyed the second time just as much as the first. Home for some delicious (and light) codfish and broccoli dinner, and we got ready to get back to the grind on Friday.

Elaine (Beck's 5th year college roomie) and her new husband Jamie met us with D/C at the Biltmore's showing of Dr. No, the original James Bond movie. Interesting to see both what passed for special effects and good dialog back in 1962 (not to mention the exquisite old school sexism). Enjoyable enough, especially over Red Devil and followed by a stupidly colossal MoJo chocolate mocha mint concoction. After another working day, we met the same crew (plus E/J's friends Mike and Anna) at Barrio Cafe, a neighborhood fancy Mexican place that we've been meaning to try since we got here. Good if stupidly expensive, Barrio at least gave us a good environment to wait an hour-plus to be seated and enjoy some quality grub. The plan is to have Elaine and Jamie over for burgers tonight, too.

And lest you think that the train of family / friends is over, co-captain Genevieve is going to be in town this coming weekend. Yay! We're headed down to Tucson to play in Uoma Donna, a fun co-ed Ulty tourney that includes general silliness as well as good Ultimate (as well as a "two point for cross-gender hucks from behind the half field line" rule, which always makes for hilarity). Getting Genevieve to fly in and forming a siiiiick team has been a plan in the works for a few months now, so my general level of pissedness at potentially driving down and sitting on the sidelines is extraordinary. I've probably ranted about it enough, but the timing of this sucks, and it supersucks that after all the disciplined eating at working out and general effort at preventing this from happening, here I am again with a busted knee from trying to be a club Ultimate player. I'll spare you more because I'd hate for this to become VhinBallad - you know, whatevs. I'll have fun with G et al - my plan is to rest / ice and try to get the swelling down by Wednesday, see how it takes to a league game, and then evaluate whether I think it'll stand up to a full weekend after that. I'm going to try to make a doc's appt. in there, too, because as my dad points out, knee effusion is decidedly un-normal (even though I think I've got subclinical effusion *all-the-time*, so this may just really be a flare-up-plus). I'm trying to stay upbeat about it, but the usual frustration is settling in nicely today. D'oh.

Otherwise, I am suffering the rush of the late semester. Not worth going into details, but there's enough work to do that I should probably stop blogging now. Actually, it's not terrible; just a couple big assignments and all the TAing left to be done, and hopefulyl I'll pull it off. I'm not going to worry.

Alright, to that end, here we go. This post feels boring; sorry for that. Time to grab some food and get back to work. Here we go (incidentally, Alex O. pressed all game long and didn't score. Ah, well).

Houseguestapalooza MMX (Part VI - Bonus Houseguestapalooza!)

Parting is such sweet sorrow, which makes it nice that after sending the iPFam off on Tuesday, we would see them but a few short days later... in Texas! I collected a stack of 85 four page essays from the undergrads on Thursday and packed them up along with the usual accessories to make a trip down to San Antonio and Austin for the weekend. Giant Panda Guerrilla Dub Squad was playing a show with G. Love and Special Sauce at the legendary (I think, but what isn't "legendary?") rock club Antone's in Austin on Saturday night, so Beck and I flew down to SA Friday for a nice weekend with the recently seen fam and the rest of the SA crew.

Got in to SA around 1 pm and hung out for the afternoon; tried to teach Dad the art of playlist composition in iTunes until Aaron got there around 2:30. Aaron, Dad and I headed up to Clark to toss ye olde frisbee around, which was a tonne of funne*. Aaron has crazy disc golf throws, so it was funny seeing our different approaches / angles of launching the disc. We came back to clean up and hang around the house a bit more with Deb and Mom, and then the iPfam pulled into town. With the set complete, we jumped in cars and took the entire crew - Pat, Ron, Grandpa, iPJ, iPMM, Dad, Mom, Deb, Aaron, Beck and Nyet - to the Alamo Cafe for some old time greasy food. We ate dinner and then proceeded to "camp," as Aaron put it, a behavior I'm sure made us lots of friends at the Cafer. Good meal and good times - the next day would be a busy one with all kinds of travel and coordination, so we went home, watched part of the Spurs game and then fell asleep. (Or, you know, graded more papers. THEME!). The iPFam headed on to Austin to meet up with the band and make sure they got into their hotels alright and were rewarded with a smelly Marriott and a band that never showed up for their troubles (they changed hotels, and the band would show up at about 3 the next afternoon. Sheesh, the GPGDS life).

* - Though in retrospect - especially given the balloon job my knee has done this week - running around without all of my braces was perhaps not the smartest thing I've ever done. Sigh...

Got up early Saturday morning at roughly 6 aka 4 Sunny Azz time to get some grading done. Beck and I had been DYING for some Chuy's - real style, Texas Chuy's, not the facsimiles we have here in Phoenix - so we headed out of SA at about 10:45 to go to Barton Springs Road in Austin for some more Tex Mex delight. Aaron made the trek with us separately in his truck, the iPFam met us at the restaurant, and we also hooked up with Rice bud Jason and his relatively new wife Phoenix. Had a delicious meal, complete with left over burrito, and a fun time catching up with my old college roomie. Somewhere in there we got a call from Jamie; he said the band was in Houston, which was a tad bizarre given they had been in Oklahoma the previous night. Lesson learned? Between this and the iP "Tulsa = Tucson" MM, we should never trust an iP with directions. Seems the band is in need of an GP(GD)S.

Back to the tale - we bid Jason/Phoenix adieu and headed into the gorgeous Austin day. Nyetfam plus Deb was originally planning to meet us up at Aaron's place in north Austin, and Kristin (Aaron's SLF) was going to meet us up there as well. But given that the show that evening was in south Austin and we were already there, we threw a wrench in the plans. Aaron and I went for a too-brief trip to Waterloo Records (for my first honest-to-life bin scouring record store experience in quite some time) - I picked up the new Sierra Leone's Refugee All-Stars album, Rise and Shine, while Aaron picked out a Bela Fleck album and a Dodos album - while Beck and iPFam headed to Zilker Park. Turned out everyone and their dog was headed there, too, on account of the lovely Saturday afternoon, so the iPFam redrew the plans. We called the Nyetfam and coordinated a meeting at the Umlauf Sculpture Garden, requiring all of us to battle the nutty Austjam. Eventually everyone got there, and we enjoyed some intriguing bronze sculptures in a shady spot. Evidence!

DSCF6275 DSCF6276 DSCF6277 DSCF6278 DSCF6281
DSCF6282 DSCF6285 DSCF6284 DSCF6286 DSCF6283
DSCF6289

That's St. Francis of Assisi (1,1); Icarus (1,2 & 1,3); Gabriel (Michael?) & Lucifer (1,5 & 2,1 & 2,3); a stunning pieta (2,2 & 2,4); and a weird, distorted image of the Beck (2,5). And a nice romantic pond statue in full size.


Idyllic little place, even if the moisture in the air and the gnats quickly reminded me why I like my new home's arid ambiance. Hung out there for a bit, then the iPFam, Beck and I went back to the iPHotel to meet up with Jamie while the Sr. Joneses went up to Aaron's with the plan to reconvene in a few hours for dinner.

Great to see Jamie; he's doing very well and feeling much happier since the band rearranged its lineup not too long ago. They've been touring with G Love & Special Sauce, a '90s alterna jazz-blues-rap band of sorts that specializes in a sort of slacker frat vibe (their most famous song is Baby's Got Sauce," followed by "I Like Cold Beverages") that is legitimately known by anyone anywhere near my age group and into such things. Jamie regaled us with great behind-the-scene tales of band drama and personalities, of how Matt McHugh cornered G Love and got him to agree to let Matt use BGS for the soundtrack of a comedy short. Hilarious stuff, and quite nice to see a happy / healthy GPGDS bassist / (lead?) singer.

We combined our iPhones into some sort of Captain Planet monstrosity to locate a nearby sushi restaurant and grabbed some delicious sushi appetizers. Or allegedly delicious; I cannot pretend to know such things. I did, however, get my requisite Ziegenbock! Huzzah! Left there to meet the entire clan (all the aforementioned plus Paige!) at the Moonshine Cafe where we had some excellent down home food (I grabbed bbq chicken and red beans and rice). Beck easily won the award for innovative dinner choice as she got the biggest piece of apple pie a la mode I have ever seen (that's Aaron's gargantuan 6'5" person hand for reference):

DSCF6291

Ay caramba! Good times and good dinner (part two); we walked a few blocks from there to Antone's and got ready for the show. GPGDS took the stage a little early (9:20?) and TORE IT UP. I was too stupid to write down a setlist, but they threw down a number of great new tunes as well as some hot versions of classics. "Seasons Change > Jam > On the Moon" was particularly shwank, and I finally got to hear a personal favorite, "45," live. The catalog has changed a little bit in the absence of Matt / Rachel - some "Matt tunes" are no longer in the repertoire, and the melodica tunes are no more, either. (Beck finds this a-okay, as she thought the meolidica killed all energy, and one song in particular that she is downright venomous against, "Pollen Song," appears to have been stricken from the record for good). (Btw, if you're interested in hearing the new quartet's sound, check a show at archive.org here, but trust that this is not entirely representative of the type of mixing that the band likes to employ on their live recordings). It was also shwank to see Aaron, the now sole keyboardist, able to really show his chops. He played two to three sets of keys at once at times, pulling off some serious wizardry. Two of the Special Sauce crew made appearances, too - Timo, the Sauce bassist, played a wicked "Summertime"-derived sax solo, and the Sauce keyboardist jumped in for some blistering solos, too. Fiery, energetic set that seemed to grab the crowd (Jamie gave it a 6 or 7 out of 10 in terms of the energy they had experienced on tour), and my parents got an anniversary shoutout taboot. Well worth the trek. I got some decent pics in the low light of Antone's - feel free to check out the set on flickr, but here are a few solid entries:

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DSCF6298

We stuck around a bit to watch G Love et al - they're exceptionally talented and delivered a solid set, but the entire shtick is a little samey and played at this point. Don't get me wrong; highly entertaining and silky slick, but gimmicks like the "smoke the joint from the guy in the front row during the song about weed" has got to be old by this point, no? Still, fun and catchy enough to entice Beck to buy a shirt (and later a CD on iTunes). We headed out a little before midnight and after a bit of an adventure taking Paige back to her car, we made it back to Aaron's by 1.

Left Aaron's early the next morning (he and Kristin were headed to her family's for Easter dealings) to meet the iPFam and the remainder of the band for a hotel brunch. Said goodbye for real to everybody - Houseguestapalooza iPEdition finally seeing its end - and drove back to SA. Had a laid back afternoon at the homestead, watching the Spurs and hanging a bit with Pat and Grandpa before eating some burgers and heading on our way. We got back to Phoenix around 8 and I jumped into super-work mode while Beck grabbed us some small MoJo snacks to cap our nice weekend.

And *that* was actually the end to Houseguestapalooza. Phew. Another good March / early April in Sunny Azz, but it was nice to have things settle down somewhat to normal, too. Of course, Rice friends Jamie and Elaine are in town this weekend, so...

Friday, February 12, 2010

AR: Sailing the Seas of Cheese


Primus - Sailing the Seas of Cheese (1991)

Ah, Les Claypool and the eccentricities of Primus! Reeun Shtaleens, my Rice roommate, and I used to feature this in the freshman year Lovett 314 rotation on occasion back in the day. It's a classic early '90s "alternative metal" rock album that broke Primus into the mainstream on the strength of a couple of MTV hits ("Jerry Was a Racecar Driver" and "Tommy the Cat"). It's unclear why certain weird, offbeat-bands managed to poke their heads out of the abyss in those days, and Primus's prominent nasally spoke-sung vocals, odd rhythms and dissonant vibe would probably have put them low on the odds list. But the catchiness of those two singles, a very unique musical approach, a little funk and just enough of the muscle of proto-metal did the trick enough, and Primus albums managed to worm their way into quite a few suburban CD Logic cases. This one, unfortunately, will worm its way into your sense of calm, too, and I'll admit upfront that it's not one I generally reach for in the collection.

Les Claypool is the bassist / lead singer of Primus, and everything starts and stops with the main man. His slap-bass style utilizes weird rhythms, double-stops and all sorts of technical wizardry in achieving an utterly distinct sound. Because he's covering most if not all of the melodies here, the guitarist can throw left-field wackiness all over the top of thunder-slap riffs - it's a thin but exciting guitar sound, and one that adds a paranoid edge to the affair. Toss in Claypool's inimitable high-pitched speech and some 5/4 or otherwise highly syncopated rhythms, and you've got a generally frantic musical landscape to traverse. It's exciting, dense music, expertly executed with a flair of offbeat humor taboot. Unfortunately, its thundering darkness and repeated dwelling on unease grow a little old, and after a few listens this afternoon, I'm reminded why this doesn't make it back into the player too often these days - it's abrasive and outside of the singles has a tendency to drone / drag.

Claypool is quite obviously a Zappa-descendant and so carries the same sorts of baggage that the Z man does: you either dig him or you don't. I think it may go a step beyond that as StSoC is a particularly *moody* album, one that is just too much dark dissonance in too tight a space - i.e., Zappa seems to vary the game enough to keep from spiralling into something (should you happen not to match its necessary mood) that could give you a skull-crushing headache. So while I appreciate Claypool and Primus's brilliance and occasionally find myself itching for "Jerry," sitting down with this album invariably puts me in a foul state. Too much weird for the sake of weird and, perhaps, that loud, prominent bass is on the wrong resonant frequency for me. (And this is allegedly their most accessible album, too!). With all apologies to the diehard Claypool / Primus fans out there - I am in utter awe of the musical ability here, for sure, so you're perfectly sane in my book - I just can't recommend this album as I don't like to listen to it. Seek out the singles; if that grate sings to you, then more power to you. But Nyet is really glad to put this one away for a while.

Status: Not Recommended
Nyet's Fave: "Jerry Was a Racecar Driver"

Saturday, October 24, 2009

AR: The Beatles [The White Album]


The Beatles - The Beatles [The White Album] (1968)

Well, this is just silly. The Beatles has long been my favorite album, making me about as unoriginal as possible, as plain as, say, a white album cover. It all started long ago when my dad made playing "Birthday" a tradition for all of the Jones-Ellis birthday gatherings. Every birthday gathering - and there were lots of them over the years, what with the 8 people involved - featured an impromptu dance party that lasted a glorious 2:43. If I'm not crazy, this was usually followed by an album switch to some more Beatlemania era stuff, typically "Twist and Shout." I essentially have an infinity of memories of my mom and aunt dancing like crazy to that one. Dad always played "Birthday" on his original vinyl copy on our living room stereo, and even after he had switched off to Please Please Me, he would leave the double LP cover out and open to the four famed pictures:

the-beatles-white-album

Something about it - the stark pictures, the simple lyrics listed in black font against a vast plain background - gave off an aura of mystique. Plus, sheesh, a double album, FOUR sides of Beatles songs - and my dad so obviously loved it, I didn't know how this could not be the best album of all time. I'm sure we listened to it a lot, as these songs have always felt deeply ingrained in my being. But my earliest memories center around the "Birthday" plays and "Twist and Shout" following it. Sometimes after "T&S," Dad would put the White Album back on with the first side first, order-proper-like. I must have had to go to bed pretty soon after the time "Birthday" was busted out, because I don't remember ever getting past "The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill." I do, though, have a very distinct memory of reading along with the lyrics to figure out what the ridiculous falsetto voice was saying ("But when he looked so fierce..."). So, to sum: I don't know the first time I heard this album; I know we must have listened to it all the time, but my most distinct, episodic type memories focused around birthdays. There ya have it.

Until one time, when I had to have been older than twelve (as this memory is very clear and from the new house), my dad put on the usual "Birthday," only we all got distracted by the candle-blowing and so no dance party broke out. So "T&S" didn't follow - Dad just left record 2, side A (or Side Three, I guess, is the appropriate parlance) playing. And out from the stereo bellowed a reverb-soaked "Yes I'm LONELY ... Wanna Die!" Whoa. Hey and the what now? Surely I had heard the song before, but it was very particular moment - pre-TIP, lonely middle school days, and suddenly it sure sounded like even the freaking Beatles had an urge to scream at the world. I don't mean to portray myself as this little black-clad hipster - I didn't even know who the hell "Dylan's Mr. Jones" was at that particular moment - but that scream, the snarl of that guitar, spoke in very big ways. So I definitely sat down and listened to the album-in-full then, fell in love forever, and even managed to steal my dad's CD copy of The Beatles for the next several years until I was gifted my own for high school graduation.

So that's the background, or at least part of it. Again, part of me feels particularly stupid for trying to review an album that is so fundamental to my constitution and one about which so much has been written already. It's still in the number one overall spot; it's not just Desert Island Recommended but will already be playing when I get to the Island. I don't know, coconut transistors or something. They'll figure it out.

All of which is to say that this is a beyond fantastic album, *even though* it's not a perfect one. Sure, there's some filler. There are two of the worst "tunes" in the Beatles catalog as the big finale. It's totally unfocused, stylistically all over the map, and all reports are that the songs were essentially composed-in-solo; no magic L-M collaboration going down here. Still, somehow the looseness, the quilty patchwork quality all comes together. Even if the songs are solipsistic islands, the sheer talent and ear of the four individuals is most definitely there, and the album-as-a-whole is an excellent "collaboration." I could wax indefinitely, but after all these years, The Beatles are still my favorite band, and the unending variety here still constitutes my favorite collection of their work. I'll give this super-album the track-by-track treatment, and I'll try to recount associated memories as I, er, remember them. Here goes:

"Back in the USSR" - "BOAC" was an NYT Xword puzzle answer recently, and I had to laugh - who in the hey would not know that? There was a time when I believed a rumor that the White Album was a track by track parody of all kinds of other popular bands of the day; this one was so obviously a poke at the Beach Boys and surf-rock bands that the opening track tended to lend the theory some credence, (though it obviously falls apart soon afterwards). But this is, natch, not just a parody - they arguably pull off surf better than the originals, and pepper it with a slew of typical Beatlish witticisms. Love the overhead plane sounds throughout, the supersilly "Georgia's Always on My Mind" nod, and the screaming guitar work throughout. I really like the high pitched trills over the last verse; in typical fashion, they keep each verse unique with a little touch here and there. Great rocker, and an all-time fade-in to start an album. And actually, a great fade-out, too, as plane brakes give way to...

"Dear Prudence" - the tripping bass and haunting, hypnotic repeated guitar line of a fantastic John ballad. "DP" builds slowly from sparse beginnings and has various sounds join the ranks throughout the tune - you'll notice the bass gets more active as the song rolls on, multiple new electric guitars join the fray, backup vocals crawl on top of the main lines. I am sure I will reiterate this time and again in Beatles reviews, but they unfailingly take simple verse-chorus-verse constructions and subtly alter each part, adding little flourishes in each component to the point that the song takes on a structure that overarches whatever primary structure is happening. The last minute of this song in particular adds a kitchen sink of things to essentially the exact same lines as the song's opening, but the dynamic is wildly changed - what was initially a reserved ballad is an over-the-top triumphant sing-along. Listen in particular for the ever-heightening guitar line behind the last "It's beau-tifu-uh-uhl / And so are you-oo-oo." I've often thought that when people say that a modern indie-pop, chamber-vocal kind of band sounds "Beatles-esque," they really mean, "sounds like the last minute of 'Dear Prudence.'" It is quite a beaming, signature sound, and I've waxed on long enough about this classic.

"Glass Onion" - An aggressive, driving, almost sinister backbeat number. It's famously self-referential - "Strawberry Fields," 'Paul is dead' rumors, "I Am the Walrus," "Lady Madonna," "Fixing a Hole," and "The Fool on the Hill" all make appearances, as does one of the world's plainest marijuana references, "a dove-tailed joint." My favorite part of this song is the wordless bridge, where instead of an additional verse you just get the same vamped chords. It's a plain-faced instrumental break without a solo that just lets the anger simmer; great stuff. "Glass Onion" also joins the long list of Beatles tunes that collapses into a trippy, psychedelic symphonic outro, this time with some strings playing an out-of-left-field, cinematic dirge. They are an abrupt shift from the pulse of this song, and an even more abrupt shift occurs with the intro to

"Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da" - The goofy, bouncy sing-along that splits a lot of opinions. I've always had a soft-spot for the theme song to that TV classic Life Goes On. I mean, sure, the maracas are ridiculous, the lyrics nonsensical, the horn lines (while cool) intentionally whimsical, and the whole thing generally smacks of toss-off camp. It just goes to show, though, that Beatles toss-offs are really good, really catchy, and still interesting. I've heard it suggested that this is Paul's foray into ska / reggae: um, okay (update: this checks out; apparently the titular expression comes from Jimmy Scott, and the "Desmond" is Desmond Dekker. Who knew?) It does pull off a certain carefree vibe, and I do like the toy-piano flourishes towards the end and all the whimsical laughing throughout. This isn't my favorite track by a long shot, but it's still some fine pop craft. And seriously, who doesn't have a crush on Becca Thatcher?

"Honey Pie" - Speaking of toss-offs... actually, I enjoy this trippy pscychedeligoofoff track. Short, self-contained, it's the great-great-grandfather of rap album skits - totally pointless, but definitely makes for a transition.

"The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill" - one of my favorite White Album tunes to play on guitar, and yes, even including that out-of-left-field classical/Spanish guitar riff at the beginning. It's a campfire kids' song with a goofy narrative of tiger-hunting, Captain Marvel, and some Ono backing vocals, if I'm not mistaken. Has a nice juxtaposition of foreboding verses with the ultra-light sing-a-long chorus. I enjoy that this song appropriately devolves into the single horn line and the campfire self-congratulatory applause which is suddenly interrupted by "Hey-o!" and the majestic piano over guitar chungs of

"While My Guitar Gently Weeps" - George's first contribution is a gorgeous, dark ballad that notoriously features absolute lead guitar devastation by Slow Hand himself, Mr. Eric Clapton. The verses ("I look at you all / See the love there that's sleeping") are wistful, while the bridge (? - "I don't know why / Nobody told you...") sections are profoundly lilting. This is just fine, fine songcraft; everything fits wonderfully. But when you take that and throw one of the all-time sets of raging, passionate guitar solos over it, you have the first of quite a few five star tunes on this album. With all apologies to "Something" fans, this is George's best song for the Beatles, imho.

"Happiness is a Warm Gun" - This sub three minute tune packs a ton - a spooky/ethereal opening ("She's not a girl who misses much..."), an accentuated upbeat guitar attack with some of the odder lyrics you've ever heard ("a soap impression of his wife which he ate and donated to the national trust"), a dirty, dirty guitar lick with drug-fix lyrics, a running guitar bridge ("Mother Superior jumped the gun" ) and - because why not, at this point - a freaking classic '50s ballad doo-wop progression with lyrics about masturbation (see title), complete with doubletime mid section. What? Exactly. This is as pastichey as the already pastichey Beatles ever got, and it created a song with a bizarre, march ahead structure. One of my all-time favorites, btw. (Pause). Guuuuuuuuh-uh-uhn!

"Martha My Dear" - straight from the vaudeville era school of "Your Mother Should Know" comes this quick Paul ditty, the first of two such anachronistic earlier 20th century radio tunes that McCartney put on the White Album. This one starts off with just the piano, adds strings, then a tuba, then a full horn section, then full Beatles band proper. The third verse is an instrumental break that highlights the independent sweetness of the melody. Paul's bass is particularly great, and the song is tight and short enough to serve as yet another pleasant diversion from anything resembling a cohesive style.

"I'm So Tired" - Yet another one of my all-time favorite Beatles tunes, this is a run-ragged, haggard, insomniac John delivering exactly the half-asleep vocal of the song's title. In the verses, anyways; the choruses feature an irritated, sleep-deprived man who is losing his grip and lashing out at the lover (or perhaps really, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi) whose ill-treatment won't let him get that rest. A nice, thematically divided song, "IST" features a dreamy bass, a snappy, snare-drum driven chorus, some really slick guitar fills (subtle, but listen for 'em during the chorus) and one of the all time great British slang words used to describe "Sir Walter Raleigh / He was such a stupid get." Two minutes and a VVCVC structure make for a tight, excellent song.

"Blackbird" - A fingerpicked classic solo folk song from Paul that is not just impossibly lovely, but one of the few intricate things I can play (an admittedly simplified version of) on acoustic guitar. I was taught WAY back in the day by good friend Caren VW, who busted this number out at an impromptu acoustic session at one of our college nerd-recruitment experiences in high school. Some guy had been pretty obnoxious all day (w/r/t his smarts - I believe he bragged about AP scores at one point) and was playing something, probably "Come as You Are" by Nirvana, when Caren snagged the guitar and lit up the room with this. Nice, and a total destruction of any nerd-fest-nookie potentialities that "rock star" thought he was achieving that evening. Anyways... the original is an intimate tune with twittering birdsong in the background. Plain, pretty, and sedate, with an allegorical set of lyrics that sit inside the quick 2;15 neatly. It was, indeed, wack Charles Manson interpretations notwithstanding, written in response to racial tensions in the US ("black" "bird" = "African American" "woman," allegedly), though obviously without the violence component. It's terrible that this and other songs on the White Album - "Piggies" and "Helter Skelter," notably - were co-opted for such murderous purposes. I'd actually forgotten about that until I looked the album up online, which may speak at least a little to the simple beauty of the song that doesn't really send the listener toward world referents anyways. Keep an ear out for the root G note that is played over and over and over in this song; also keep an ear out for the "foot-tap" percussion which is reportedly a physical scratch on the master tape. You don't get that in ProTools, eh?

"Piggies" - I lack a sophisticated musical vocabulary and so I think anything with a harpsichord and strings sounds "baroque." But this really does smack of Renaissance Festival Faire. It's completely out of left field and is one of the most poorly disguised allegories in the history of pop. Still, the rock bridge keeps it interesting, the pig grunts render it non-standard in a "Good Morning Good Morning"-nod way, and the emphatic, over the top ending is appropriately ridiculous. I'll tolerate it, George :). Especially since straight out of that melodramatic chord we get...

"Rocky Raccoon" - another acoustic folk narrative that I have learned over the years on guitar. It's the same chord progression / picking pattern over and over (though again, the rhythm is subtly altered from verse to verse) telling the love-trianglish story of Rocky, Danny, McGill/Lil/Nancy. My dad has always sworn that this entire song is just a set-up a terrible pun at the end about Gideon failing to "help with good Rocky's revival." The harmonica, saloon hall hoedown/breakdown bridges, sorrowful backing vocals, and the organ-fade into the next tune are nice touches. Great, goofy tune, and one of my favorite to play. In fact, chroniclers of the Nyet legend are sure to know that I regularly played "RR" at Lovett College Musicale events, often inserting the famed (and thoroughly unprintable) Lovett College Cheer for the middle bridge. Matches the rhythm, you see. My friend Brett would accompany me by playing "The Beer" onstage, essentially standing there grinning and occasionally taking a sip. We also had a special affinity for the "called himself Dan" line which I sang in the voice of Christina of D/C fame. These were good times.

"Don't Pass Me By" - another goofy country stomp, this one written and sung by the inimitable Ringo Starr. It's driven by a raging fiddle line and features an oddly sad narrative (given Ringo's beaming delivery) about a girl who was in a "car crash / and [she] lost [her] head." Silly, which seems to be the theme of this part of the album, as the next song is

"Why Don't We Do it in the Road?" - the goof-off, though subtly ominous and murky blues number. It's straight up 12-bar blues and blows by in 1:42. It's also only Paul and Ringo, possibly leaving their personal tendencies unchecked by the, ahem, more serious Beatles. Two lines are repeated throughout the song and get progressively heated. I've always enjoyed the drum opening on this one.

"I Will" - A lovely Linda ballad, this is just a pretty guitar ballad / ode to Paul's wife. Pretty direct and sincere/sappy, I heard this at a wedding recently and it just sat perfectly. It's notable for a vocal bassline behind the jangling guitars and the excellent line "Make it easy to be near you / For the things you do endear you to me" which sounds like it might be syllabically awkward but rolls off flawlessly.

"Julia" - one of John's most haunting, best ballads, this quiet, acoustic solo number is just he. It's contemplative feel brings Side 2 to a great close, and the lines "Half of what I say is meaningless / Though I say it just to reach you" are classic, even if they are stolen.

"Birthday" - I've talked about this one enough in the intro, I think, but it is one of the all-time rockers. I can also crank this one out on electric guitar, too, and it is so fun to run off the signature lick and pretend I'm partying with the Ellis-Joneses or at ShowBiz Pizza or whatever. I love the vocal-less passages (with the screamed 5...6...7...8!!!) and the solo on the bridge is short but divine. This should, obviously, replace all other songs as the official BDay anthem. Duh!

"Yer Blues" - Wicked, existential despairing blues; it's been charged that this is somehow a parody, but for all John's soul-screeching, you'll be hard pressed to convince me of that. It's a relatively standard though absolutely raging blues tune, with thrilling fills and violent breakdowns - perhaps completely unsurprisingly, I LOVE that line that John sings to me that he feels so suicidal "just like Dylan's Mr. Jones" and later that "he hates [his] rock n' roll." The song breaks into a half time party at that point, and the bubbling moog (I assume) organ that comes screaming and the following psychotic guitar solo absolutely KILL. And then a trick which has popped up repeatedly - the first verse is replayed with the vocals barely audible until the song fades out. A quite strange effect, as this spins this angst-song into the realm of the ghostly. One of my all-time Beatles tracks.

"Mother Nature's Son" - a sort of classic Paul tune that does manage to capture the pastoral theme of its title. A simple, pretty guitar part backed by thumping drums and a light symphonic section, this one is highly reminiscent of "The Fool on the Hill." "Doo-doos" and humming fill some of the verses and give off the impression of a Paul solo act. The second acoustic that enters toward the very end provides a really nice harmony. This is about as shmaltzy as I can take from Paul; "The Long and Winding Road" off of Let it Be carries this style just a bit too far.

"Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey" - is one of the more ebullient, frantic and uplifting songs from the John wing. You can practically see him shaking his head jubilantly back and forth through "Come on it's SUCH A JOY!" The track is filled with yelps and screaming guitar licks; even the polyrhythm of the drums adds to the out-of-control party ideal expressed here. The title is, natch, a little goofy, and hearing the vocals ramble on spasmodically is delightful. The instrumental bass rumble near the two minute mark is one of *those* moments for me. This song really sounds like it belong somewhere back in the "And Your Bird Can Sing" part of the catalog, but it's a welcome addition here.

"Sexy Sadie" - definitely a John song, but the multiple passages and all-over-the-map instrumental contributions make his yet another classic "Beatlesque" tune. It opens with a reverberating piano and progresses to John's accusatory lyrics (originally intended, it seems, for the Maharishi) backed by Wah-wah-wah-wah vocals. Keep an ear out for some Beatles-divinity at the 0:54 mark ("One sunny day...") with a subtle guitar ringing and rounding out the sound. There's a ton going on here with countervocals, guitar running against piano, the lead vocal going atmospheric... quite an interesting song.

"Helter Skelter" - I specifically remember making a last-ditch effort at swaying Mike NTPB from his pop music oriented ways by (ironically, I note, this being the most popular band ever) playing this one very loud for him and trying to get him to guess who had written it, when it was recorded, etc. It didn't work, though I think he was surprised to learn that music made in 1968 sounded remotely like this. Famously a response to the Who's effort to write "the nastiest track ever" or somesuch, Paul penned this Black Sabbath-esque metal number and let it absolutely rock out. It's a blast of a song to play, and it is definitely the nastiest thing in the Beatles catalog. I don't know how many times my dad has busted out the Ringo-screamed "I got blisters on my fingers!" line as a joke. This is quite an angry tune, an all time metal classic, and Exhibit 1A in Paul's defense against accusations of just writing "Silly Love Songs." The even more plodding, even darker and bluesier version on the Anthology disc is also a must-hear. Five star tune.

"Long Long Long" - from the loudest, RAWKingnest to a reserved dream tune from George. He wakes up a bit midsong ("So many tears..."), but this is still one of the most meditative tracks on the pair of discs. It's a little tonally mundane, which is fine given its serene aspect, but makes it less memorable (especially considering what it's surrounded by). Weird experimental ending wakes the listener up just in time for...

"Revolution 1" - the doo-wop and original version, this will forever sound very, very slow to me since I was raised on a raging electric lead during Nike commercials. There's a brass band backing the lead in addition to all of the "Shooby-doo-bop" vocals, and the full effect is a psychedelic pastiche. John got himself into a spot of trouble by following the "you can count me out" line with an ambivalent "in?" The song, obviously, is quite anti-revolutionary, but that little vocal flourish gave the Anti-establishment kids an "in" and made this one of those songs that split parents and youth. The guitar lick alludes to simpler "Day Tripper" times, and it's a singular winner. Fantastic song, though again, the single version is forever the "real" one for me.

"Honey Pie" - the other vaudeville Paul tune. The scratchy record effect employed at the beginning is a nice touch; otherwise this is another catchy Paul tune that nails the British 1920s (or so) genre with swelling clarinets and tuba-ish bassline. I don't know if I ever listened to this without picturing Paul in a top hat with swinging cane. Catchy tune, Paul through and through.

"Savoy Truffle"- another raucous, somewhat sinister tune about, allegedly, a wide variety of chocolates. This a great George single in the "Run for Your Life" style with a buzzing horn line providing all kinds of, sorry, delicious runs through the tune. It has another self-referential moment in the "We all know ob-la-di, bla-da / But can you show me where you are?" I've got no clue on that one. Something has always sounded bitter about this song to me; still, it's catchy and energetic and features George's usual punctuated guitar fills and fiery, contained solos.

"Cry Baby Cry" - Simple acoustic ballad with some rather obscure lyrics (e.g., "The king of Marigold was in the kitchen / Cooking breakfast for the queen"), a murky line from what the wikipedia tells me is a harmonium, and a build of piano chords. Yet another lovely melody in this song that swells and adds band members throughout the process; this nursery-rhyme sort of song is the last track on the album that actually features the Beatles as a band proper. "CBC" ends and an abrupt ditty from Paul creeps in ("Can you take me back where I came from / Can you take me back?"). It's a complete non sequitur that adds to the mystery of the song and transitions effectively to

"Revolution 9" - In my junior year of high school, I listened to music right before going to sleep practically every night. One night in particular this album was in my player, and I must've drifted off fairly early on. So let's say I went to bed around midnight. At about 1:20 in the morning, in the pitch black, this experimental tape look number came on. I was snapped awake from the middle of some severely inappropriate sleep cycle in the most disorienting way possible - I didn't know where/who/when I was, all I knew is that a scary voice was stereo-tracking across the room calmly saying "Number Nine." And I specifically remember "Block that kick" and the cackling sounds of laughter popping up, too. And lasers, and TV western sounds, and you get the idea. Understandably, I was terrified, and it took some mad scrambling about the room and the slamming of a stop button to restore sanity to the world. That's one of maybe three times I've listened to this tune in my life (the fourth being at this very moment), and I've never quite forgiven it. As madhat tape-splicing excursions go, it's effective, but it's hardly worthwhile beyond its novelty. Listen - at your peril - for Yoko (I think) saying "You become naked" towards the end; this line had to be the inspiration for the non sequitur "I become naked" from the Pearl Jam experimental oddity "Bugs"from Vitalogy.

"Good Night" - I have listened to Revolution 9 more times in my life than I have listened to this song. I absolutely hate it; it's a terrible lullaby that had no business on this album. Damn you, Ringo!

Phew. 30 tracks, the last two overt stinkers (or one "art track" and "one icepick-to-the-temple-schmaltzy" track). But all of the others make for an exquisite, heterogeneous masterpiece. This review has dragged on quite long enough; suffice it to say that even though healthy portions of this album are goofy or toss off, the whole thing coheres via some still-unparalleled musicianship and songwriting. I'll leave with another view of the White Album classified by my five and four star song rankings; everybody has different favorites off of this, and the variety just lends itself to different faces of the album being loved by different people. What a great pair of discs, and like Tommy Lee Jones in MIB, I look forward to repurchasing it every time a new music medium comes out.

Five Stars: "WMGGW," "HiaWG," "YB," and "HS"
Four Stars: "BitU," "DP," "GO," "IST," "B," "RR," "J," "B," "EGStHEfMaMM," and "CBC."
Three Stars: Everything else except "WHP," "R9," and "GN."

Status: Desert Island Recommended
Nyet's Faves: "I'm So Tired" and "Yer Blues"

P.S. Oh, and since this is in the Phish series, the 10.31.94 performance of the White Album in its entirety was perhaps the truest-to-the-original album cover by the band (though they were pretty true to the original with Dark Side, too). They don't extend or jam on much of anything. But they pulled the cover off off with aplomb and a TON of energy. Some of the notable, um, Phish-nicities: Trey alters the lyrics to talk about Phish animal characters in "Glass Onion;" "WMGGW" smokes in "Trey is a Jedi" fashion, and Phish continued to cover this tune well after the show (I caught it 7.15.2000); "Don't Pass Me By" is played in a wacky doubletime / bluegrass style and appropriately sung by Fishman; "Birthday" is played in a weird minor key repeat of the main riff and features a spoken word birthday wish to one of the stage managers; "HS" is played in a really abrasive, dissonant manner and breaks down into an a cappella "I've got blisters on my fingers" choral close; their take on "Rev 1" is somewhere between the tempos of "Rev" and "Rev 1;" "CBC" is another one that made it into the Phish rotation (you can hear it on Hampton Comes Alive); Rev 9 involved an extended vacuum solo and, supposedly, some Fishman nudity; AND the band had the good sense to skip "Good Night" because it's a terrible, terrible song. This also happens to be one of the original Phish bootleg tapes I got from the very kind Phish community leader Ellis Godard, and I'm forever grateful for that.