we could put it in my scrapbook, if I had a scrapbook

I just watched Garden State again, and I realized that it's actually a great movie. I find it odd when I feel that I relate more to characters in main stream films than some of the people in my immediate surrounding, but it's a feeling I often have. Perhaps this is exactly the feeling that Elliot Smith fans have known for a long time. Fuck, I hope I'm not an Elliot Smith fan.

Either way, there's some discussion about 'home' in that film which I relate strongly to. I was all worked up to write about it before I sat down at the keyboard and realized that most of what I was thinking was whiny drivel. One thing I really wanted to write about was a Mos Def song called 'Habitat'. Here is the second half of the chorus:

We all got to have some place that we come from
This place that we come from is called home
Even though we may love
This place that's on the map
It ain't where you from, it's where you at

I think Mos Def is a genius.

remember the time?

It's kind of cute that they even bother to build sidewalks in San Jose. I'm not sure what old city-planner remains steadfast on the inclusion of raised pavement alongside most roads, because the driving public could obviously care less. I walked on sidewalks for around 2 1/2 hours today, and I think I saw 4 or 5 other people taking advantage of the copious amounts of concrete with me. Only 4 or 5 people in 2 1/2 hours. The number of high priced automobiles, burning gas and polluting heavily, that flew by me was rather astounding. There was barely time to cross the road for the most part, unless there was a light controlling the traffic. (The 'walk / don't walk' signs are another novel San Jose throwback to those times when people used their feet).

And then as I round my corner to come back to my house, I realize my old elementary school is getting out. I realize this because there is a line of cars stretching down the street, waiting to chauffeur their young children away. Now, I appreciate that the parents are taking an active role in their child's upbringing, but can the children not walk any more? I thought the little fellows are supposed to be bounding with energy. They can't walk the 4-5 blocks back to wherever it is these people live? When I attended, we used the damn sidewalks, and we walked home. So the line of fat people in their fat cars just sit, waiting for their chance to grab their child, who I wouldn't be surprised is fat also. And everywhere surrounding them these empty sidewalks.

I don't care if I sound like a cranky old man. These people are fucking assholes and need to stretch their fucking legs.

rock and roll is noise pollution

Landon and I have had a long-running debate about what the best album of the '80s is. We have narrowed it down to two options - Guns 'N' Roses' Appetite for Destruction and AC/DC's Back in Black. It is a heated debate, as you can imagine. (Note: for any readers that might suggest any Cure albums or, worse, Depech Mode, please return to the dark corner you were crying in before we started here.) Unfortunately, AC/DC's entry is still tenuous, because the album was released on January 10th 1980, meaning it was recorded during the '70s. What counts, the release or the date of recording? It is a serious item to consider before settling this debate.

Either way, I will now have to admit that Back in Black is one of the greatest albums ever recorded. And it is better than Appetite. People who have known me for a long time may be shocked by this admission, but it's true. It's a long way to the top if you want to rock and roll, and AC/DC reached that pinnacle 10 days into the Reagan decade. And God bless them for it.

Readers may be wondering my justification for this decision. I offer it here: I'm drinking alone on a Thursday afternoon, but not alone - not really - AC/DC is here with me. Angus Young is keeping me company. Goddamit if the music isn't speaking to me, in some truly sublime, transcendent, meta-physical way. These guys were on to something. They know something - something about drinking alone on a Thursday afternoon, something about wanting to do something different, something about rebelling and having fun, something about cutting loose and feeling free, something about LIFE! something about wailing on a fucking solo so hard it hurts. These guys are geniuses. Fucking avante-garde. Fucking brilliant.

It hurts me to admit, but G'N'R might pretend to know, but they don't really. At least not like AC/DC. Those cats knew something, and they turned it into Rock and Roll.