Crunchy ‘Nanas

“So am I. But, I can do the merengue.”

“They’re not playing the merengue.”

“They will.”

I wasn’t allowed to watch “Dirty Dancing” when it was first released. And when I finally remembered to watch it when I was an adult, I was kind of like, um yeah, okay whatever. I haven’t seen it since. However, I’ve probably seen “My Blue Heaven” 1,564 times. Just a guess. It was on the other night, and I am proud to say I’ve still got it. All the lines. Memorized. Right here. I can’t remember my age half the time. But, yes. I’ve still got “I don’t know, the pressure of Halloween. You never know what to go as!” all right here. Hot!

Tonight was taco salad night. We love taco salad night. And burrito night. We have a lot of those too. We buy Corona that was brewed in Belgium, probably (better than food miles from Mexico, right?) and avocados. I love avocados. And then we turn up the music really loud. Probably none of which is technically merengue, but well, we do it anyway. (And truth be told, what we do is not strictly merengue, but a mish-mash of latin freestyling with some shimmies, kicks, and a few strums on the air guitar thrown in because they’re fun. We feel it works. But, we don’t do it in public either. And when I say we, I actually think it’s just me.)

And then I yell at Crunchy husband for the thousandth time, “Ozomatli might very well shop at Safeway, but that’s NOT WHAT THEY’RE SAYING!!”

1. Chango- Ozomatli
2. La Sonidera- Los de Abajo
3. Lola, Lola- Ricky Martin (oh come on, when you’re getting down in the kitchen, everyone loves Ricky)
4. Tímido- Ozomatli
5. Oye Mamacita- Los Lonely Boys
6. Mi Candela- Los de Abajo
7. Miss America- David Byrne
8. 3 Cool Cats- Ry Cooder
9. I Will Be Free- Nil Lara
10. I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For- Coco Freeman featuring U2

Yeah, I know it’s not Monday here yet. But it’s Monday in Australia. So that’s my story.

And I promise the next post I submit will not start with a quote. Or a series of quotes.

I’ve always harbored a secret desire to be one of the screamers on a live album. And now, I believe, my wish has come true. I got my recording from Peter Gabriel at Hyde Park, and I swear to you, I hear me. For real. The one yelling “Steeeaaaaammmm!” a fraction of a second before everyone else? That’s totally me. (I’m fast, really fast! And loud, really loud!) And during the pause in Family Snapshot? Me too. I swear to you. I know my concert scream. And I hear it. You’re skeptical, I can tell. But, it’s not hard to believe. Did I mention we were standing second row? BA-BY! (The proof is on Tony Levin’s website. You can see us best in the eleventh picture down, just behind the girl playing with her camera near the yellow rain jacket on the rail.) So, I think it’s very possible I hear me. And yeah, I’ll admit it, I sound good.

Rock and roll! Ah, another one of life’s goals ticked off the list.

In other exciting news, I officially registered myself and Crunchy husband for the Paris-Versailles 2007. So we are finally in training for something, as opposed to in training for something obscure and undetermined. We’ve been warned about the hill to Versailles, but how can you pass up the opportunity to start a run under the Eiffel Tower? Freddy the French Cat’s owner nearly joined Team Crunchy ‘Nanas in this 10 mile endeavor, but dodged this year’s run right before registrations went in by conveniently remembering he has tickets to go watch his Welshmen group hug and bite each other’s ears off in Nantes. Lucky escape, if you ask me.

There was way less trash on the path than I expected on my run today from Minnis Bay to Reculver. (I kept to the path. There is no way I could collect all the trash washed up on the beach.) Most people just kind of stared at me as I ran by, but one man yelled “hey, what about all this over here?” as he rode past me on his bike. He seemed jovial and friendly, so I will give him the benefit of the doubt and take that as thanks rather than him “taking the piss”. The run felt really good, which is to be expected since it is flat and I’ve been running hills mostly and today is a beautiful day. I ran regular tempo on the way out and eco-run tempo on the way back. I’m getting slightly better at grabbing trash without breaking my running motion, but I still need to slow/stop sometimes.

And then there’s the fact that summer has decided to grace England with its presence. There are many who still do not have clean water supplies to their homes, but at least (for now) the rains seem to have eased. I hope it gives it a chance for things to dry out a bit and allows people to go back to their homes.

And in final news that may be good or may be not so good, I will know by tomorrow I think, I’ve taken a bold step and submitted some coastal photography into a local art exhibition. Please keep your fingers crossed on something making the cut. It could go either way.

A wordy post to come, but here are some shots (click image for larger image on flickr) from Peter Gabriel at Hyde Park Calling on Saturday night. (Flippin’ rockin’ diggity downtown bustin-a-move awesome!) Please be forgiving, both camera and operator need some help at image capture in low/different light situations. I’m practicing!!

Okay and a couple for “Oral Bedraggle” (who may be too busy in her new fancy pants job to look at them for a while, congrats!!) from The Feeling’s performance:

Now, I go swimming. Swimming in the pool, swimming is cool. Ha ha ha. But really, I am, check the log in a few hours. (I fear a Crunchy husband-imposed ban on anything PG is imminent…)

[For Crunchy husband. I promise not to go to see Peter Gabriel at the Eden Project without you. I can wait for Hyde Park. You just might want to take the car keys and all means of getting money to work with you on Wednesday. Just to be safe.]

1. The Feeling Begins
2. I Have the Touch (Mix from “Phenomenon” soundtrack)
3. Burn You Up, Burn You Down
4. Down The Dolce Vita
5. Growing Up
6. Steam (Oh, Oh Let Off Steam mix 12″)
7. Exposure
8. Running to the Rain
9. Secret World
10. In Your Eyes (Live, for you, with Paula Cole backing)

“You’re not excited about Travis?”
“Well, it’s not that I am not excited. It’s just I probably wouldn’t be going if you didn’t want to go. Lately, I have a hard time listening to the albums. A lot of the songs sound the same to me. They sound a bit, I don’t know, too Coldplay-ish to me.”
“You mean miserable and whiny??”
“Well, yeah. Sorry. I hate saying that because I do like them, but…”

Now I remember why I thought I liked Travis. I like the band’s stage presence, its energy. The crowd last night was pretty docile. Like totally and completely chill. I don’t usually have a problem with chill, but this was CHILL. We found it amusing how low key the atmosphere was. At one point, walking back from a drinks run, a man in front of me let slip a moderate belch. I barely noticed. When he realized I was right behind him, he immediately apologized, saying “oh my that wasn’t very polite of me, I am so sorry!,” with absolutely no sarcasm implied. For a while, it felt like we’d bought tickets for Kenny G in the park (though we wouldn’t really know, maybe Kenny G packs a rockin’ party?), picnic baskets and wine out of plastic wine glasses everywhere, but Travis whipped it up a bit. Kudos for the Rocky entrance from the back. Inventive. It was refreshing to see the guys run around the stage and get into their music. Much better than sitting at home listening to the albums. I left with a smile and boogie in my step singing, “wow, look at us now, flowers in the window. It’s such a lovely day and I’m glad you feel the same.” I’m sure everyone on the night hike back to the parking lot loved that.

As well as (re) liking Travis last night, I am getting the feeling I am a very tall man at concerts magnet. A trend is emerging. Last night, a very tall man stood just front-left of me. He was a stationary very tall man, for which I am thankful. (Except with the bouncing en masse during “Why Does It Always Rain on Me?” [awesome!] in which 7 foot very tall man became 8 foot very tall man.) Let this be a warning to very tall men everywhere. If you are going to Hyde Park Calling, watch out. If you find yourself being climbed upon like an ancient oak tree by a woman waving her fist in the air, shouting “Intruder! Steam! Waiting for the BIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGG ONNNNEEEEE!,” that would be me, trying to get an unimpeded view. I apologize ahead of time. Crunchy husband, he can’t take me anywhere. (Note to readers: I’ve been given the official nod that now that we’ve seen Travis, it is acceptable for me to get excited about Peter Gabriel. I will try to contain myself. But, I do feel a monday mixtape coming on.)

New(ish) music I really (and really, really) like

[For Moose, who spends way too much of her paltry salary catapulting cookies through space, but cookies that are very much appreciated and gobbled down all the same!]

1. After Party- Ozomatli
2. Salala- Angélique Kidjo
3. Bibou- Daby Touré
4. La Temperatura- Ozomatli
5. Dancing Shoes- Arctic Monkeys & Buena Vista Social Club
6. Raise the Roof- Tracey Thorn
7. Dirty Little Secret (Thievery Corporation Mix)- Sarah McLachlan
8. Collarbone- Fujiya & Miyagi
9. See You on the Moon!- Great Lake Swimmers
10. Bouncing Off Clouds- Tori Amos

Ya se flippin’ fue, baby!

From LA via Australia, the boys from SoCal made it to Shepherd’s Bush Empire for an action-packed, sold-out show on Friday night. Despite serious sound issues, the group’s energy carried through to the crowd and we were all bouncing. I was there on the floor, standing three rows back, holding my own between two REALLY tall guys, one of which was not there before me, thank you very much. I knew what he was up to. He kept trying to get an edge on me. To shimmy his way in straight in front of me. I felt like Monica in the Friends episode where she’s taken Rachel and Phoebe to the bargain barn for her wedding dress (minus the whistles, unfortunately!). When you find the dress, hold on to it and don’t give it up for your life! That’s kind of how I felt about my spot. We dance sparred for our prime location for a few songs until my annoyance level hit near breaking point. The night could have progressed in two ways: me kneeing the guy in the groin, or me giving up front center gracefully.

He’s probably still in the hospital, and his chances for progeny are slim.

Kidding, kidding! I’m not about violence, Ozomatli aren’t about violence, and I wondered how it would look getting thrown out of the venue for starting a fight, wearing my “people are still for peace” T-shirt. We moved it back a bit and two things happened. The sound improved and I had more room to dance. We also ended up in good position to join the Ozo conga line at the end of the show. Ha, ha. I win!

I must give props to Crunchy husband for his patience with my excitement for this evening. Though, I think he ended up enjoying the show as much as I did. He keeps chanting Ozomatli shop at Safeway. He thinks he’s so funny.

Check out my snaps from the show:

Ozomatli

Ozomatli’s “Don’t Mess with the Dragon” is brilliant. It makes you shake it and want to take action toward a better world in true Ozo fashion. It does not disappoint. Except in the moments when you wonder if they have stayed true to themselves, or if they could have sacrificed a bit of their inner fire in attempt to (finally!) break into the mainstream. If they have done, I can’t blame them. I don’t understand the mechanics of the airwaves. Lily Allen and James Blunt get played so many times you want to rip out your car radio and toss it out the window while crossing the Thames. Yet, a group that makes awesome, innovative sound and has inspiring things to say rarely gets airplay. Though, I wonder if this could have more to do with their politics than their music. Which is another sad commentary on the world.

The hype around this album seems to be its cohesiveness, its flow. I agree, it’s smooth. But better? No. I’m with the 372 people on the website poll so far who say they love it, but don’t choose it as the best album they’ve ever done. Call me crazy, but part of Ozo’s charm is hip-hop one minute, cumbia the next. Ah hell, let’s slip in some string orchestration. Mix in your middle Eastern tones with your salsa groove to rock out. For me, this works. I like their diversity. I LIKE that you can’t assign them neatly to a musical genre. They are bigger than that proverbial box.

But, I guess in the real world, that doesn’t make for radio play. (Which is a shame, what’s wrong with people?) I hope this album gets them the recognition they’ve worked so hard the last twelve years to earn. But, even if it doesn’t, they’ll still have their loyal fans. We know it just ain’t a party with no O-Z-Os!

27 days, 1 hour, 45 minutes, and 20 seconds. WORD!!

Until I can get my paws on “Don’t Mess with the Dragon”, I may have to revert to the old days of the cassette Walkman (yes I still have and use mine), so that I can dance, um I mean train, out on the route to some rockin’, booty shaking new stuff from the boys.

Shake, shake, shake…you can’t stop this love, can’t stop now, got to keep moving,
we’ve got faith in what love can do, don’t look back, we’re gonna make it through

This is definitely one for the “please get me up this one last hill” mix. If this doesn’t make you dance, better check your pulse.

I married a man unfamiliar with Digital Underground’s ‘Humpty Dance’. After writing of dance moves you won’t see me attempt out on the open trail, my husband confessed he didn’t know the song that might stir one to breakdance. As far as he knew, it didn’t really cross ‘the pond’. And, of course, being of slightly different ages, he was too mature, too cool even, to have taken any notice anyway. (As opposed to she who enjoys doing ‘Funky Cold Medina’ at karoake night. Trust me, it’s better than hearing me try to actually sing!)

But my husband is lucky to have me. This cultural deficiency has been rectified. Thanks to YouTube, I was able to blast my adolescent middle school past straight into our living room. It’s not PC. It’s a little bit rude n’ crude, as these things go. But, if you don’t take it seriously, it cracks you up. The glasses! The nose! I don’t understand!

After a brief lesson, he’s now hip with the kids. (Or, at least the kids of 1989. You know, the ones who thought Hammer pants were cool.) Tonight, I plan to teach him everything he needs to know about cutting a mean running man and roger rabbit . Then he’ll really be ready to tear up the floor this weekend. Look out Pinner, here we come!

Today’s run

Distance: 4.0 miles

Time: 39:55

Pace: 9:58 min/mile