//Written By Cari Hauck

Matilde Urrutia

It isn’t simply that you are loved gloriously, or loved beautifully.
But rather that a pitch perfect expression of love for you sounds and sounds,
Rises into the very air.

Though the love itself may fade, I do not know,
The poetry you inspire ascends, ascending
Becomes stars and you, who are so loved,
Look quite infinite up there.

[ Topic Fiction and Snobbery, Poetry | No Comments ]

I Left My Heart in Bon Iver

“However, this was one of those shows that blows you quite away and I felt privileged to have gotten to witness it.”

Saturday, January 23, 2010, I went alone to a Brooklyn Vegan/The Bowery Presents benefit show for Haiti at Music Hall of Williamsburg (formerly NorthSix). The audience contained a large portion of infuriating idiots, more so than usual, as frequently happens when “celebrities” are performing (well, Janeane Garofalo and Zach Galifianakis). However, this was one of those shows that blows you quite away and I felt privileged to have gotten to witness it.

Because I am an idiot (I forgot the show was that night), I got there too late to see Britt Daniel of Spoon play his three songs (BD and/or Spoon has played 3-4 different places all over New York and Brooklyn recently and I have managed to miss each appearance. (I did shell out for a ticket to the Spoon show at Radio City Music Hall in March because I saw Björk play there 10 years ago and the acoustics are so amazing it sounded like she was standing in front of us.)

Oh well. Here is Britt Daniel playing “Who Makes Your Money”:

So I missed the frontman for one of my favorite bands, and it does not matter an iota because I got to see St. Vincent and Justin Vernon (Bon Iver) play and then I got to see them play together (Songer Singwriter – consisting of Annie, Justin, a drummer and Brad from Megafaun). Another honor was the surprise guest, Shara Worden (My Brightest Diamond), who sang this amazingly gorgeous song whose name I do not know. Her voice and delivery just blew everything else out of the water. She also did a Prince cover, which was wonderful. Had I known anything about her before Saturday, I would have gone to the show she had played the previous night at Bowery Ballroom.

Here is Justin Vernon performing one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen live:

Unexpectedly, for a bunch of delicate-sounding musicians, Songer Singwriter devolved into really balls-out noise (or evolved, depending on how one feels about noise), I mean, a crashing, borderline painful cacophony, particularly at the conclusion of “Jolene”, of which I do not have video.

Songer Singwriter cover Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon”:

And here is a partial clip of Songer Singwriter performing a jawdropping cover of Dolly Parton’s “Jolene”:

Unrelated to the show, but having everything to do with Bon Iver, as part of another amazing evening with my friend, Kate M., she introduced me to La Blogotheque, which is run by people who invite musicians to play tiny, intimate shows in France. This is an a cappella version of “For Emma” sung in the hallway of an apartment building in Paris. Love the bewildered residents who came home to find Bon Iver. And, of course, the dog.

[Incidentally, Kate does not know this yet but she consistently introduces me to music that makes me think "This is why life is worth living." Not just the fantastic music itself, but the joy in discovering it exists out there in the world. Thank you, Kate, for also being out there in world.]

And I will leave you with a lovely, heartbreaking rendition of “Skinny Love”, also courtesy of La Blogotheque. Look at those joyous Frenchies who got to sit in a room the size of a closet and drink wine and sing along with this:

[ Topic Pop Culture, Ridiculosity | No Comments ]

A Poem for Mark Murray on the Occasion of His 70th Birthday

To Teach Is

To stretch your giving heart so bright newness can climb inside.

To be safe soil, earthy incubator,
even when seeds are hard and unwilling.
Even when they would rather stay tight inside themselves,
all possibility encaged.

To point out common miracles and uncommon beauty.
 
To find joy in joy and joy in complexity.

To show what it is to face life’s contradictions,
tease apart the knotty bits
Learning worthy, unworthy, strong and true.

To guide a cultivation of self, to help formulate these life questions that perch in our souls.

What our hearts ask the world.
What the world answers back.

And so sort ourselves out
And so prize our love and hope even when others have no place for them.

To give a gift that ripples out and through, wide worlds unbound.
And from the smallness you once harbored
arose trees to vault the sky.
A whole forest that thinks of you, Mark Murray, with great love.

 

[Mark Murray was my teacher at the Sacramento Waldorf School, 4th through 8th grades. He is also the father of our friend, Ben.]

[ Topic Fiction and Snobbery, Poetry | No Comments ]

Dirty-Looking Hipsters Overrun By Actually Dirty Hipsters!

“‘Crusty Punk’ sounds fittingly like a euphemism for syphilis.”

Let’s see:

a) I can barely tell the difference between emaciated cokeheads who spent hours making themselves look dirty and emaciated junkies who look dirty because they sleep in dirt. I suppose the nose will know(s).

b) “Gutter Punk” is so ’90s. “Crusty Punk” sounds fittingly like a euphemism for syphilis.

c) Williamsburg is not a “family neighborhood”.

d) Hilarious that the half-built luxury condos are now infested.

e) This is why I shun (and loathe) panhandlers. I have ever since living between the Upper and Lower Haight in SF. Fie on middle-class kids who don’t want to work but call me yuppie whatevs while simultaneously trying to wheedle money.

[ Topic Diversity, Housing, Ridiculosity, Society | No Comments ]

Animal Band Names

159

(Obliquely related to animals or animal parts).

AIDS Wolf
(Animal Collective)
Angry vs. The Bear
An Horse
Apes & Androids
Arctic Monkeys
Atomic Kitten
Band of Horses
(Bat for Lashes)
Bear Hands
Bear in Heaven
Bear vs. Shark
(Be Your Own Pet)
Birdmonster
Birds of Tokyo
Birds of Wales
Black Horse
Black Joe Lewis and the Honey Bears
Bloody Panda
Breathe Owl Breathe
Continue reading Animal Band Names…

[ Topic Pop Culture, Ridiculosity | 1 Comment ]

Holy Fucking Shit with the Babies at the Loud Music Shows

“Am I the only one worried about hearing-loss in babies and toddlers?”

Okay, People, I have had it with parents bringing BABIES to shows in BARS where, between the music and the douchebags talking over the music, it is really loud.  No earplugs or earmuffs or anything were in evidence and the music, though not remotely balls out cockrock, was of a worrisome decibel level for a BABY clearly under a year old. NOT EVEN A ONE YEAR OLD!  Its age is a FRACTION OF A YEAR.

This was the same line-up as the last show with babies present, so it has something to do with the bands playing, but the last show was not nearly this loud.  Could you maybe at least put your hands over the baby’s ears when the show starts?  Oh no, you can’t because you are holding your baby in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other.  I am really hoping you breastfeed that baby because those little guys sure like to get a buzz on. Or you could cut out the middle mammary gland and put some sparkling wine in a bottle.

There were also babies at the Battles show in Central Park, and while that was outdoors and no one’s ears bled, it was loud enough to have to shout a bit to talk to someone next to you. The only time I have been even close to being okay with this sort of thing was the toddler at The Knit wearing studio-sized headphone things that blocked out sound. Am I alone on this? Am I the only one worried about hearing-loss in babies and toddlers? If they grow up with Tinnitus, someone should be punched in the gut.

Christ in a bobsled.

Updates:

4.4.09  Baby Ear Muffs

8.4.09
Another Tragic Example of this Barbaric Practice at the Free July 10th, 2009, Pains of Being Pure of Heart Show at South Street Seaport in Manhattan, NY

Soon to be Deafened Asian Child in a Crappy-Quality Photograph. I was wearing earplugs because I enjoy hearing things.

Use the tent for scale. Please note the large black rectangle in the top left of the also crappy-quality photo. That is the bottom portion of a speaker stack. That poor child is being held just out of frame on the right.

To the right of the tent, small toddler. To the left, huge speakers cranked so people in the back of the outdoor venue can hear.

[ Topic Ridiculosity | No Comments ]

Frowny Face Condolences

“Could we please put on our grammatical Sunday-best in matters of life and death?”

Some friends and I have noted a distressing trend, the noticing of which may make us ‘old’ or ‘old-fashioned’ or even dare I say, ‘persnickety’.  I prefer to frame it as ‘retaining a sense of decorum’.  Social networking has granted us the perverse contradiction of being better connected with everyone and yet far less engaged with the same.  So, while Twitter and Facebook status updates let me know if you have a cold or your cat is M.I.A. or your doctorate thesis was well-received, I may not have spoken to you for more than four months.

Subsequently, I have learned of impending break-ups and divorces via social networking sites, complete with trite, diminishing icons such as Facebook’s ‘broken heart’, i.e. “[broken heart] Paul is no longer in a relationship.” Then the subject is flooded with emails, wall posts and comments along the lines of, “Ohhh nooooo! What happened?”  The broken heart icon comes about when one makes changes to one’s Facebook profile, and more than one broken-hearted friend has been chagrined by the unintentional broadcasting of their bad news.  Worse yet are announcements of love lost in status updates or other bulletin-board-y modes. By far the most disconcerting to date was when a friend told me of his impending divorce on the message board of our Scrabulous (R.I.P.) game.  Okay, so Twitter and Facebook are easy, quick ways to let a lot of people know something you would like them to know. It can also, I have found, serve as a way of saying something you would rather not say, or imparting news you would rather not have, to wit, illness and death.

I think most of us have received news of a loved one’s loss through e-mail, or other kinds of mass distributed messaging. Of course in times like that who wants to spend hours on the phone, repeating something so painful and difficult to say in the first place?

Recently, a friend lost her father, with whom she had had a complicated relationship. What was novel was that she posted updates on his health, at times cryptically worded, on Facebook and likely elsewhere, probably from her iPhone outside the hospital. When he finally passed, she posted something along the lines of, “Dying looks so different than I thought it would.”  So, that was an odd way of sharing difficult news during a difficult time. It would not have been my first choice.

What disturbed me far, far more than her posting the updates were the unintentionally glib and silly comments posted by friends in response, most attempting a helpful, supportive or consoling vein.  Their undoing was their structure; their syntax and grammar and spelling:

Sorry UR dad died.

U never really lose people because they R always in UR heart.

Let us set aside for the moment my penchant for fully and properly spelled words, not to mention sounding like an adult and not a 12 year-old girl.  Instead, let us examine the complete negation of emotion accomplished by these ‘drive-thru’ sentiments, these Hannah Montana platitudes.  We are all plugged into something hollow here and I am frankly aghast.  Frowny faces should be reserved for pedestrian use.  Could we please put on our grammatical Sunday-best in matters of life and death? Frowny facing someone’s death is a new high in lows, beyond the pale.

Let us suppose that she wanted support and condolences on Facebook, or that she wanted answering gestures to her gesture. She did set a precedence with her status updates. However, y’all couldn’t spell that shite out?  Y’all gonna whip out some emoticon, the same one you used when the puppy cam was down?

Please people, let us make a pact today: when true tragedy visits and people we love (or know or met once at a party, or never met in person) are suffering, are grappling with enormous and painful circumstances, let us dust off our grown-up words and our grown-up emotions and try to make a real connection, to offer true comfort and support, if comfort and support be your aim.

[ Topic Ridiculosity, Society | No Comments ]

A Very Serious and Hilarious Complaint

“It is ridiculous to be forced to tell a man not to come into a ladies room during operating hours.”

From: Hauck, Cari
To: _____, William
Subject: FW: Dining Services Feedback
Date: Wed, 17 Dec 2008 13:48:28 -0500

I believe it happened to me almost exclusively at lunch time. The make-up incident happened today at around 12:14? The other times ranged from noon to 2:45. Today it was the gray-haired gentleman, but it has been several different men/custodians who have done the same.

On 12/17/08 1:41 PM,

“_____, William” <William._____@mtvn.com>; wrote:

> Understood. You mentioned that this has happened 4 times. At what times of the day, to the best of your recollection, did they >occur?

> Bill _____
> Manager
> Facility Maintenance
> MTVN
> 1515 Broadway
> New York, NY 10036
> 212-258-_____
>
> —– Original Message —–
> From: Hauck, Cari
> To: _____, William
> Sent: Wed Dec 17 13:30:11 2008
> Subject: FW: Dining Services Feedback
>
> Hi Bill,
>
> I got your VM and tried your extension but you are away from your desk. I
> cannot really speak freely on the phone regarding this issue as I am in an
> open bay area with about 20 other people in my immediate vicinity.
>
> I will gladly answer any questions via email.
>
> Best,
> Cari
>
>
> —— Forwarded Message
> From: “_____, Donna” <_____@RestaurantAssociates.com>
> Date: Wed, 17 Dec 2008 11:32:31 -0500
> To: <cari.hauck@mtvnmix.com
>
> Conversation: Dining Services Feedback
> Subject: RE: Dining Services Feedback
>
> I will forward this issue to the building maintenance department as this has
> nothing to do with the dining service in the Lodge.
>
> ________________________________
>
> From: cari.hauck@mtvnmix.com
[mailto:cari.hauck@mtvnmix.com]
> Sent: Wed 12/17/2008 10:54 AM
> To: _____, Donna; _____, Jace
> Subject: Dining Services Feedback
>
>
> From: Cari Hauck
> Email: cari.hauck@mtvnmix.com
> Tel: (212) 846-_____
> Cafe & Location: The Lodge – 1515 Broadway
> Comments:
>
>I do not know if this is you or 1515 maintenance, but it would be
> nice if the bathroom custodial work could either be done after The Lodge
> closes or by a female, so I do not have to repeatedly yell from the toilet
> to a man knocking on the door that Yes, someone is in here. This has
> happened at least 4 times and most recently, I was applying make-up at the
> mirror and the custodian simply opened the door without knocking, saw me,
> closed the door and knocked. It is ridiculous to be forced to tell a man
> not to come into a ladies room during operating hours.

> Contact Required: No
>
>
> Presentation: No Comment
> Quality: No Comment
> Value: No Comment
> Staff: No Comment
> Cleanliness: No Comment
>
>
> DISCLAIMER Important! This message is intended for the above named person(s)
> only and is CONFIDENTIAL AND PROPRIETARY. If you are not the intended
> recipient of this e-mail and have received it in error, please immediately
> notify the sender by return email and then delete it from your mailbox. This
> message may be protected by the attorney-client privilege and/or work
> product doctrine. Accessing, copying, disseminating or re-using any of the
> information contained in this e-mail by anyone other than the intended
> recipient is strictly prohibited. Finally, you should check this email and
> any attachments for the presence of viruses, as the sender accepts no
> liability for any damage caused by any virus transmitted by this email.
> Thank you.

>
> —— End of Forwarded Message

[ Topic Neuroses, Ridiculosity | No Comments ]

Because I Am A Petty Bitch With Naught But Tar In My Heart

I just have to take this two seconds to get up on my high and mighty, self-righteous horse and then I shall shut it and shut it good.

It is fantastic that everyone is going out and voting. I could not be happier about it.

However, many people who have not bothered to vote since perhaps the last presidential election (if that) are telling me how hard it has been to vote today. I do not mean waiting in long lines or encountering technical problems. I mean they do not know where their polling place is or whether they are registered or other such stories of this strenuous and bewildering thing called ‘voting’.

Can I just say, as someone who has made an effort to vote in every election, even the local ones, since I came of age: I sympathize with long lines or technical problems, but not with figuring out where to vote or whether you’re registered. Please do not make yourself out to be this heroic martyr because you just now figured out how to fulfill your civic duty.

When you register, they mail you your polling information. And then they send a follow-up card before the Primaries that lists your polling location and your Election District number.

Sorry to be so petty and bitchy, but you would think from the griping that these people had to climb Mt. Everest.

Thank you thank you thank you for voting. Thank you for making a difference. But please do not think you are now eligible for sainthood.

[ Topic Politics, Politics, Etc., Ridiculosity | No Comments ]

Is This Seat Taken?

“Stephen Merritt was obviously high or was just his usual high-seeming, random self.”

Stephen Merritt (far right) telling you that someday your dog or cat will die. I could see the band much better than my crappy cell phone lens could.

I bought two tickets in August to see Magnetic Fields play at Landmark Loew’s Theatre in New Jersey on Thursday, October 23rd. Landmark Loew’s is a gorgeous, cathedral-like movie theatre across the street from the PATH Journal Square Station. Then, the day of the show, the person with whom I was going fell ill. Literally fell. Unconscious. On the subway. (He’s okay now.)

I posted an ad on CL, FB, MySpace and sent emails asking if anyone wanted to buy my extra ticket. No cigar. Then I thought maybe I could sell the ticket at the show. Yes, it was me and eight other people out front trying to offload tickets, including a surprisingly bitter scalper. Part of the problem: Jersey. Other part of the problem: assigned seating. Result: show not sold out. Due to recent good luck with opening bands, I have been trying to go to shows on-time, so ten to 8 I went inside, ticket unsold.

The show was awesome. Stephen Merritt was obviously high or was just his usual high-seeming, random self. No, he was undeniably high after the intermission. He and Claudia had this odd banter like he was a crotchety, old man merry prankster and she was his exasperated, long-time companion, half humoring him, half laughing with him, half wanting him to shut it. Wait, that’s too many halves. She sang a lot of the songs he sang on the albums. But he sang, too. The vibe of the show was very low-key. I overheard a woman outside saying that she almost fell asleep at one part, but really they had just played some really delicately beautiful songs. You sometimes forget, with the funny lyrics and romping music, how gorgeous and deeply sad his songs can be.

It happened that there were two empty seats next to me, the seat for which I had the ticket and the one next to it. On my right was a very nice lady and her fellow. So, I piled my scarf, hoodie, coat and purse onto the seat next to me, and ended up sitting half yoga style with my left knee on the empty seat and leaning on the armrest.

At some point during the intermission, a woman behind me asked if anyone was sitting next to me, and because in times of inattention I can be oddly literal and oddly honest, I said, “No.” thinking they wanted to put their coats on the seats or on the backs of the seats, which one of them had already done and it was quite fine with me. However, I overheard her excitedly telling her friends on her cell phone that there were seats open in front of her and they should come on down.

Okay, here’s the thing. I do not want to be a selfish bitch. Nor do I want to cause trouble. But it is one thing to be made slightly uncomfortable by people sitting next to you in close proximity, such as in a movie theatre. It is quite another to pay $42 for the privilege. I did not want to stuff my purse under my seat, nor hold my coat, hoodie and scarf on my lap, nor sit on them. I did not want have to sit pressed between two other people. The way I saw it was, I had paid extra so my purse, coat, scarf, hoodie, left knee and left elbow would have a nice place to sit. I would like to think, too, that the woman to my right was more comfortable due to me leaning on my armrest and leaving the other for her exclusive use.

So, I turned around and told the woman that actually, I had paid for this seat, so only the other seat was free. She had this frozen smile on her face and I overheard her saying on her cell phone that she guessed she was mistaken because the seats were not open. Then after the show started again, I heard a lot of whispering, which may or may not have been related to me. But really, I had paid an extra $42 so I should be comfortable. Right?

Was I wrong? Am I a total bitch? My elbow and knee do not think so. I am inclined to agree with them.

[ Topic Neuroses, Pop Culture, Ridiculosity | 1 Comment ]