Maps

I've been getting all nerdy this week. While my colleagues at work have been listening to ABC News Radio and/or watching Play School - I've been spritzin' and catchin' up on my listenin'. 

Specifically, getting all learned with NPR podcasts. And earlier in the week one of my favourite programs, This American Life, delivered up a piece of documentary gold with their recent story on Plan B. 

It was insightful, funny and inspiring - it made me want to think about my own documentary making and ideas - but it was also one of those great stories that stays with you more generally. It just pops into your mind even when you're not thinking specifically about what it was saying, because it's somehow related to everything. 

So what is Plan B? Years ago some friends of mine where in a punk band, called Plan B, and hitting it into google seems to bring up all sorts of references to skating and building. 

But in this case Plan B is the road you one day realise you're travelling, and are perhaps surprised by, because you'd always imagined that you'd be cruising along on Plan A. But at some point things changed, you took a different turn and ended up on a different route. Sometimes for the best. Sometimes not. Sometimes just randomly. If I look at where I'm at now in my life, and think about what I thought I'd be doing and have done by now - when I was 17 and invincible - it's funny because some of it is tracking that way, and somethings are so far left-field. But whatevs. Who needs maps anyway?

Unless of course it's the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' Maps. 

Or this acapella version.

... And if you wanna read more about the man behind This American Life, Ira Glass, check this out 

Here Come The Warm Jets

Of all the tweets I subscribe to I think Brian Eno is by far my favourite. His posts are just so random and sometimes very funny, in a dry way.

Recently he posted a link to an article in the New York Times in 2006 titled 'Unhappy Hour' about a couple who went out for a drink and the jukebox randomly started playing an hour long experimental Eno tune, titled Thursday Afternoon, which eventually made the whole bar very upset and on edge. It's quite a funny article in it's own right, and even funnier when you come across it via a recommendation by Mr Eno titled 'I feel sorry for these people.'

Here are some of his other recent tweets. I think the first one is a reference to David Byrne?

· David doesn't tweet much, does he? Dropping that wanker
· Make a blank valuable by putting it in an exquisite frame
· Trust in the you of now
· Imagine the piece as a set of disconnected
· Accretion
· How would you have done it?
· Change nothing and continue with immaculate consistency
· Make a soufflé!
· Go slowly all the way round the outside
· Abandon normal instruments

Do the Jane Fonda

I've become strangely addicted to Jane Fonda's blog. And quite frankly it's come as quite a surprise to me, this interest in Jane Fonda.

I've always been fond of her in a cheesy 80s aerobics way, and I guess Mickey Avalon brought a bit of a sexy revival of her a few years back, but stumbling across this blog [thanks to the NY Times + Twitter] I've developed a new appreciation for the lady.

Unlike most celebrity blogs she talks candidly about real-life things. Overcoming insecurities, what's happening in the world around her. She comes across as an interesting 71 year old woman, Daughter, Mother, Grandmother, kind of hip person. Huh. Who would've thunk?

Paper Planes

Her baby is due on Grammy Night - Feb 6. She's been nominated for an Oscar too. She's looking totally hot, and just chillin' in LA [can't fly back to NYC, too pregnant] so she dropped into the Tavis Smiley show, and instead of talking about fluffy celebrity stuff she decided to use the whole interview to discuss the situation in Sri Lanka.

M.I.A is just too cool... Check it out.

Part one:


Part two:

Worst Day Ever?

I'm sure one day I'll be able to laugh about this but right now I can't. It's still raw. Perhaps because it hasn't been resolved.

What is 'it' you ask? Well, I've got a problematic front door lock. I came home from running some errands, put the key in the lock but the door wouldn't open. Just to make things worse, it's a hothothot summer's day here in Sydney, you know those days that make everyone a bit frazzled at the best of times?

Long story short, it quickly became clear my first option was to scale a couple of walls and fences and see if I could get inside through the backdoor. [Good thing I've been training eh?]

Once inside I tried to open the door. It wouldn't open. The lock was turning, but not moving. I was now LOCKED IN.

I called our Real Estate Agent and asked if I could get an emergency locksmith around here. He asked if it could wait until tomorrow. On the verge of tears, hot and sweaty, covered in bruises from my wall-climbing experience I flatly said that wouldn't work. I can't leave, nor can anyone enter. He called a gazillion locksmiths in Sydney and found one to come over.

Mr Locksmith, currently my favourite person in the world is here, outside the door drilling holes trying to get me out. He's been drilling for close to half an hour.

That lock is solidly LOCKED.

Party Jams

I'm making the most of my time off, these are the last days of summer for me. Soon I'll be dreaming about days off and having time to read books + surf the interweb...

So here, my friends, are my favourite recent web-music discoveries.

* The always excellent Allez-Allez has just posted a mix from Josh Deacon of Animal Collective fame. 

* XLR8R magazine commissioned a crazy set from Chavy Boys of London. Its total party-central. To quote XLR8R "Baltimore club music has a rep for being energetic, but from the sounds of this mix, which is primarily just that, the Chavy Boys of London must keep an entire fridge stocked with Red Bull - and pound a few down when commissioned to do DJ mixes for music websites" Listen to it here.

* A-trak has been twittering about this for a bit, and it's now been unleashed upon the world. Apparently the official single will be dropping in a few weeks but it's already received some big praise from Busy P [Ed Banger] and Pitchforkmedia. Head to Fools Gold to hear A-trak's remix of Sebastien Tellier's Kilometer.

Pro Nails

I have this quandary, I love getting my nails done, toes and finger nails matchin', but ever since I read an article in some trash mag about people who'd caught nasty bacterial diseases at cheap nail salons I've had the fear. [And I can't afford the pricey places - $80 for a pedicure is too much to make it a regular thing, whereas $40 for the set seems a lot more justifiable.]

But I don't want to get gangrene and have my feet/toes amputated.

Was this trash journalism or does this happen frequently enough for my unease to be justified?

Sunday Driver

In an attempt to clock up 120 driving hours required to progress from Ls to Ps these days I took my friend P for a Sunday drive today. After consulting google maps we decided to head south and check out the beach at Bundeena.

As we left the safety of the inner-city and got into the deep south there were a few things I noticed: firstly the drivers around those parts were really aggressive, there were lots of super super shiny new expensive cars on the roads and more confusingly, a lot of Australian flags. On cars, on houses, and when we got to the beach, on clothing.

I find this relatively new phenomenon of extreme patriotism alarming. I mean, I love Australia but this whole flag thing doesn't feel like it's about national pride, it's more about the mob mentality. When did this happen? I know it's connected to those horrible summer riots over the beaches in Cronulla a few years ago, but all those people already had flags ready to wave and force people to bow to and kiss.

So when did they go out and get them? Is this another Howard Legacy? Is the fascination with the flag somehow connected to our increasing Americanisation, because the Americans are so into their own flag and being so expressively patriotic?? Or is it something else? Is this culture of patriotism and flag-loving here to stay?

*** an after-thought, my friend Kate suggested I read the article David Foster Wallace wrote about flags in America just after 9/11. It looks like it was originally published in Rolling Stone Magazine. It's called The View From Mrs Thompson's. Check it out.

Let's Get Retarded

BDO. Big Day Out. It's always hot and sweaty. Dirty and Dusty. It's seriously 5 degrees hotter in The West. Everyone's always DRUNK and there are always a lot of Australian flags in attendance: wrapped around shoulders, as cap/top/pant material, in real or fake tattoos. The theme song for most people at the BDO would have to be that Black Eyed Peas ditty - Let's Get Retarded [or Get it Started if we're going for the radio edit.I would've embedded it but that function has been removed by their record label. Whatevs.]

It's a particular experience the BDO, but there's always one good reason to go. This year it was to see TV On The Radio, who were great. Along the way I also had some random observations and encounters:

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A very sweet girl came up to me and pointed to her very unwell looking friend ''excuse me, you look like the kind of girl who is always prepared, do you have any panadol? Gesturing to my bag you carry a lot of stuff with you, so I thought you might have some in there?"

I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or insult?

Funnily enough for the last few weeks since I had my wisdom tooth removed I have been carrying a chemist's assortment of painkillers: panadol, nurofen, even panadeine forte, but this is a new bag and I was nothing but disappointment for this girl. I'm not really a girlie girl. I carry a big bag but I don't have any make-up in it, no panadol, no emergency nail-repair kits. Nothing useful like that. Usually just an umbrella, a change of shoes, a scarf/cardigan, 1000 pens that don't work and maybe a note book or newspaper/magazine. She looked confused and I suggested she try the first aid tent.

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I LEFT EARLY BECAUSE

I didn't want/need to see Neil Young.I tried to be discrete about it, but one friend introduced me to a cute, but total hipster, male friend of hers saying "this is Anna, she hates Neil Young." He looked me up and down and dismissively said "oh, do you only like modern music do you?" Hell no brother, give me old school classics in any genre any day, just don't make me sit and watch Neil Young.

So I snuck out, found the train station and started the mission to get home.


Well what an experience that was.

I was sharing the middle section of the train with an intensely chatty [annoying] drunk American girl, a very drunk well travelled bogan from Melbourne, a quietly drunk Irish girl and a hilariously funny, fluro-sunglass wearing bogan from Queensland. And a quiet girl with a white plastic bag. There was also a very sober woman with a small child when we all got on, but after about 30 seconds of cuss language and groans about throwing up, she promptly got up and relocated. The next 25 minutes was a running commentary on throwing up and would've caused our Big Kev some concern, as it seems like his attempt to change the Australian culture of binge drinking hasn't been that successful.

Here's a transcript of just a snippet for you:

[Blue t-shirted guy gets up, opens door of train carriage, connecting to next train.] "It's hot in here. I need some air. I'm gunna be sick... This train reminds me of Egypt. I go Egypt a bit. I'm a pilot. Trains in Sydney are disgusting, I'm from Melbourne, this is the first time I've caught a Sydney train. Does anyone know what I can do to stop this nausea? [groan] How far til Redfern? I just need to get home, have a cold shower, throw up for half an hour and then pass out. [groan] Or maybe I should throw up first and then have a shower? Dunno. I just need to spew. You know when your gut really hurts after you chuck up? Well that's how I feel now. [groan] I just went into the toilets, spewed and then left. Didn't even find me mates. But I so need to be sick. Don't worry I won't be sick on the train. I was sick as we changed trains at that last station, but I won't be sick now. I need to spew... pause .. you know what it was? It was that half-strength vodka shit, that's what made me sick. That half-strength vodka. I'm never drinking again. [groan] I'm gunna be sick.

And on it went for the entire trip, with frequent interjections from the chatty American about inane things. The guy from Queensland and his Irish girlfriend were going on to do a pub crawl of the George Street/Darling Harbour pubs. Scruffy Murphy's and others. The girl with the plastic bag kept it close to her mouth and heaved a bit. I don't think she actually brought anything up but she was certainly close.

I just kept quiet and took notes.

Highly Suspicious

I've been a long-time listener and fan of My Morning Jacket. And they seem to get better and better with each album + tour. I really do love them and Jim James seems like such a nice fella. I've seen them on a few tours over the years and this week have now seen them twice in less than 24 hours and they are still spell-binding. Their older songs have a deep sentimental significance in my life.

But I have one hurdle that I'm struggling to get over.

Jim James [and possibly all of them] like their steak well done.

I just don't know how much I can trust someone who eats their steak well-done. I mean, he has the voice of an angel. He writes heart-felt and movingly beautiful songs. He sure can play, his band is tight, they like meat, but ... they eat their steak well-done??