folk my life

It's been some time since I last contributed, but hopefully you've enjoyed the wonderful posts by our new contributors Jaime and Jeanne.  I promise that there is some really big news coming this weekend.  But in the meantime I wanted to get a post up on a community event that is occurring.

If you had told me four years ago that I would ever even dream of attending the Folklife festival in Seattle I would have called you a liar.  Having taken a look at the list of 2007 performers there is a reason why.  Well it's four years later and here I am preparing to attend my very first Folklife festival.

Why?  Well, it's free which in this day and age is a true novelty though considering that this is essentially the epicenter of aging and neo-hippie movement I really shouldn't expect anything other than free.

There is another reason for my attendance and that is an appearance by LAKE.  Readers of the blog will know that LAKE is my favorite band and I find it hard to pass up an opportunity to see them live for free.  I hadn't really thought of them as folk until now, I'm still not sure I do as I've also heard them described as indie pop, indie jazz rock, pop-folk-jazz-rock!  I suppose I don't really care how you describe them, indie folk is just fine.

When I saw that LAKE was playing I took a closer look at other bands playing this weekend and found that actually there were a few who I would be interested in seeing.  Angelo Spencer, Karl Blau, and the Curious Mystery are all good bands.

I began to rethink of Folklife not just as a gathering of free loving dirty hippies who have liberated themselves from the constraints of day jobs, deodorant, and shampoo, and I began to think of folklife as a rather hip place to be.

As I write that last paragraph something hits me; I no longer have a day job, in the past two weeks I have forgot deodorant on more than one occasion, and I have loathed taking a shower.  Perhaps I belong at Folklife more than I originally thought.  Perhaps the festival will be just as I expected, and I will not feel like the outsider who has just come to watch his favorite band.  Instead I will completely fit in and be mistaken as one of them.


Every day on the radio I hear stories about how the economy has effected people and that they will not be taking extravagant vacations for, if any at all for Memorial Day.  Well, here is something free, something fun, something hippie, yuppie, emo, hipster, and family friendly.  I suggest that at the very least you look through the schedule of events to see if anything strikes your fancy.

The festival starts today 5/27 and runs through Monday evening.  My personal opinion is that Saturday is their strongest day, but go ahead embrace your inner hippie and stop by.

posted by: brian snider

bitches be crazy

One evening in September of 2009 a group of actors, directors and writers came together in Manhattan to create a series of 10-minute one-act plays for AWE Creative Group’s 24Hour PlayFun. The teams were chosen at random, and each play shared the same opening line, same random line, and use of the same prop. This was the birthplace of Crazy Bitches! , a story of Momma and her two haggard daughters, Cantina Marie and Lisa Marie, and the men they entertain/abduct. I had the good fortune of being drawn from a hat to work with the writer, David Slate, and I’ve been performing it ever since.

The story is an absurd comedy, one that involves sex, serpents, cannibalism, donkeys, Mexican jail, tattoos and sausage. There are many reasons we each keep coming back to perform again. It has, over the last two years, been one of the most rewarding theatrical experiences of my career. In a city of individuals, where everyone is busy and set out to succeed on their own, the bitches have surpassed stereotype and found loyalty to one another. Against all odds, the majority of us have come back and made the time to play with each other. If I had known when I first moved to New York eight years ago that I would have the opportunity to continue to perform a play that was written specifically for me, with people I loved and cherished, I wouldn’t have believed it. I’m still pinching myself.

One of the most rewarding aspects of this play is the audience reviews we receive. After a dear friend of mine watched our recent performance, he told me it reminded him of why he got into theatre in the first place: because it was fun! What a concept. I have been acting since I was a child, and certainly was first interested in this career because it was fun. I want to play, to enjoy, to create characters and relationships on stage. Since that time has passed there have been moments when it was easy to lose sight of what first intrigued me. Somewhere along the line a different kind of pressure is exposed and one can forget about the pleasure of acting. I am a trained actor and I take my work seriously, and I also perform in a variety of styles. No matter how dramatic or silly the play may be, I believe it is important to put in the table work. However, when the joy in sharing the story of the play is lost, the audience stops caring to watch. There is nothing worse than watching an actor uncomfortable or disenchanted on stage. It has been a gift to rediscover the amount of fun I can have while acting, and I am convinced that is why our audiences keep coming back. Crazy Bitches! encourages the actors to be as ridiculous as possible, and the audience and actors alike get to reap the benefits.

The excitement of this play stimulates ideas from the entire team. The writer has plans to extend the play further, we have talks of taking it on an East Coast tour, filming it for webisodes or a short film, etc. It is extremely thrilling to be part of such a twisted, perverse package. Right now we seem to have found our home in gay bars, namely the Stonewall Inn, the perfect place to try new things and play to a quirky and receptive audience. We have performances coming up May 30, 31, June 6 and 7, and assuredly more on the way, if not at Stonewall then at other venues.

What I have learned from the success of Crazy Bitches! is that audiences want to watch people act like fools on stage, and that I am honored to oblige. I will continue to play Lisa Marie, the badass Southerner who spent months in a Mexican jail for smuggling heroin across the border, for as long as the people will let me. I look forward to the future adaptations of this infectious tale, and can’t wait to play with my friends again on the 30th.

posted by jeanne lauren smith

the most pretentious thing i do

showing that I know what a record is

I grow a beard, I have been known to wear skinny jeans, I enjoy indie music that no one else has heard of, and I listen to jazz.  Despite this list of pretentious things that could drive most people to judge me severely, the most pretentious thing I do is buying and listening to vinyl records.

Listening to records is not inherently pretentious (unless you’re under thirty five years of age) however there is a contingent of people who believe that those under thirty five listening to records are pretentious.  There has never been a need for my generation to buy a vinyl LP.  With the advent of CD’s and now MP3’s all the music we could ever want is right at our fingertips, more accessible and portable than ever before.

In my early teens I had a brief obsession with vinyl.  I didn’t have a record player in my room so if I wanted to listen to them I would have to bother the entire family.  They weren’t exactly thrilled by the musical stylings of Big Black, the Lemonheads, Bikini Kill, or the Melvins.  I rarely listened to them and they were bought mostly because I liked the idea of owning records.

It had been years since I bought a record but last November I inherited an Audio Technica turntable and decided that I wanted to start listening to LP’s again.  I raided my parents collection and began scouring used record and bookstores for my favorite classic albums; Lou Reed, Bill Withers, Stevie Wonder, Charles Mingus, and Patti Smith.

The prime time for used record buying was about ten to fifteen years ago.  The nostalgia of the vinyl era had not yet kicked in and the baby boomers were busily selling off their record collection and replacing them with CD’s.  Now that they come back en vogue, good used records are hard to find.  You need to rely on luck and good timing to snatch up a well priced classic.

Part of the fund of record collecting is in the hunt for your favorites.  Many have been reissued and range in price from $12 to $40.  This is a spread that makes most baby boomers cringe.

I didn’t start buying records because of their supposed higher sound quality.  I didn’t start because it’s what the hipsters are doing (Though I will not deny that when you spin a record on a turn table you do feel a little more cool).  I started because listening to a vinyl LP is a far different experience from what we have now.

Two sides, a brief intermission as you flip the record, no playlists, just one album all the way through.  I began to hear songs in ways I never had before, like each one was a  piece to a puzzle that I only begin to see when the the needle lifts and the arm retracts.

Where this really becomes pretentious on my part is that I also buy new LP’s by my favorite indie bands; LAKE, Chain and the Gang, Christmas, Thao & Mirah.  There is no logical reason for buying these, although often you will get a code for downloading the MP3’s with the record.  I get the same listening experience from these as I do the classics.  I found that I appreciate them as an actual song enjoyed by itself not just as something to occupy myself while doing other things.

Vinyl has a special quality to it, a testament to a time of well built goods.  It proves that sometimes they get it right the first time.  No one is clamoring to get a hold of videotapes because of their superior quality to Blu-Ray, and most people would prefer to drive a Ford Focus over a Model-T.  Vinyl stands the true test of time as the pinnacle of music quality.

Those who don’t understand what makes vinyl special just see pretentious people who refuse to change with the time or want only to go against the grain.  They look at us the way some see handlebar mustaches, bow ties, and typewriters.  They are the devices of those who prefer to live ironically, this was cemented when Urban Outfitters began selling turn tables and only hipster records.

My new found love for records is neither ironic or novelty, I honestly enjoy buying and listening to them.  I’m not anti MP3 or technology, I just prefer the vinyl record.  It’s such simple technology that also happens to be the best.  This still makes the entire act of buying and listening pretentious, but honestly I don’t give a shit.

By the way if you come across a copy of Lou Reed’s Transformer, let me know.

posted by: brian snider

a sold artist

When I was little I wanted to be an artist.  I was pretty good, I even had the drive necessary to make that career happen.

I had no vision for what my life as an artist should look like.  I had no vision of myself or how I would live or act.  I didn’t imagine myself living in New York attending my latest art opening wearing a beret and a black turtle neck.  I knew only that my love for making art was pure and that I was happy while doing it.

In elementary school I was always the best artist in class and I milked my role as such, acting humble sometime rejecting compliments with “No, I’m not that good.”  When I got to high school I began to notice that in terms of artistic growth my peers were surpassing me.

I’d become lazy and impatient with the process.  I knew the basics, that everything in its most pure form is just simple geometric shapes, how to place light and create proper shadows, and how to use perspective to create depth.  I knew how to implement these concepts I just didn’t have the patience to take the necessary steps.  It was apparent that if I could make those essentials work for me I could be good, without them my work was off.  Out of embarrassment I stopped making art.

I replaced my desire for visual art with the desire  to be a rock star.  I could fully envision 

what my life as a hard edged tortured rock star would look like; ripped jeans, flannel shirts, a sweaty audience begging me to play my hit song before I smash my guitar into a thousand splinters expressing my anguish.  Eventually this died too as again I grew impatient with the guitar and refused to practice chords or scales.

After my dream of being a rock star faded I put my efforts into being an actor.  Again I fully envisioned my life on stage; speaking the words of Shakespeare, Chekov, Pinter, and Albee.  I eventually went to college to continue to pursue this ambition only to realize as a junior that I was too lazy to practice my skills necessary to grow.  Not only that but the day to day life of an actor seemed severely disappointing.  After turning down a role to hold a spear in a production of Hamlet I officially retired.

I have always loved writing but before college I had never thought of it as a legitimate career choice.  After I stopped acting I put all my efforts into writing.  For the first time I found that I enjoyed the process just as much as I reveled in the product.

Like my visual art aspirations, I had no idea what my life as a writer should look like.  I knew only that I was happy while doing it from start to finish.  I found that no matter how great the struggles, no matter how disappointing the rejection I still wanted to write.  

This was why I found what happened last October to be rather ironic.

My senior year of college I copied a picture of Audrey Hepburn that I’d seen at IKEA for Jaime.  This awakened a desire in me to begin painting again, not for a living but just for fun.  In the next few years I amassed more paintings than I could fit on my limited wall space so quite canvases a few ended up in the back of a closet. 

Last October as we prepared to move from Los Angeles to Seattle we held a yard sale.  It was more like a Fire Sale, as we were selling off just about everything but the essentials.  This included four paintings I’d done that I was ready to get rid of rather then haul back north.  My expectations were that someone looking for a cheap canvas to paint over would buy them.

When one woman picked up a black and white painting and asked how much, I was about to say $2 when Jaime grabbed my arm and spoke up.  “$5!” She said, the girl looked enthused and bought it.  Later I watched as a car made a sudden stop in the middle of the road, reversed and then a woman got out of the car to buy a specific pastel drawing.  Once again I sold this one for just $5 and she was thrilled with the new canvas she had to hang in her home.

By the end of the day I’d sold all but one painting.  Drunk with success I insisted the last canvas go for $5 and no less, the little Mexican man offered me $2 but I turned him down.  I can’t go around selling Brian Snider originals for $2, it would destroy the market.

It was then that I realized that I had done it.  My childhood goal was complete, I’d become a sold artist.  There were three of my paintings hanging in three separate southern LA homes.  I imagined that they would invite guests over for dinner and while sitting on the couch they would ask their hosts, “I love that painting.  Where did you get it?”  With pride they would reply “Oh, thats just a little thing I picked up at a garage sale in Los Feliz.”

this painting is unfinished

I did some mental math and taking in the cost of the canvas and supplies I figured that I’d made a negative $60 profit.  Not much but it was a start.  Now if only I could get someone to pay me, even if just $5, for my writing.

posted by: brian snider

another year gone...

On Monday I said good-bye to my 26th year, and hello to the big 2-7. This is not a milestone, but it gets me one step closer to the age that is. I’m officially now in my late twenties, a status I find means many things. One-I’m now officially “past my prime” and should start making babies immediately. Two-I officially would love to start making babies immediately (joking B...sort of)

Seriously though, as my twenties draw to an end, I think back to how much shit I managed to get done on my pathway to becomingan adult. I met Brian, got my first place, graduated college, worked my first full-time job, did seriousdamage to my liver, moved to L.A., got married, began to watch most of my friends get married, changed my career, spent time confused as to what my new career should be, moved back to Seattle and now...turned 27! Not too shabby and I still have 3 years left!

In a culture obsessed with youth, I’m weirdly turned on by the idea of getting older. I’m excited to begin this next chapter that will contain many new experiences; such as not over-drafting on my checking account each month, a trip to Europe and babies...oh wait, what?

Whatever is in store for me, I like the idea of moving forward, toward something knew. Fingers crossed my reoccurring dream of realizing that I never showed up for 12th grade History class doesn’t come true, and I now I have to redo my senior year of high school. Age ain’t nothing but a number, but I’m pretty stoked to tell people mine. I’m 27 and I currently,(the key word here), don’t live with my parents, not a bad place to be!

So here’s to a new year, if you read the blog I’ll let you know how it goes!

posted by jaime navarro

comfort movie

aside from being my comfort movie... this shit is really good

My wife and I have been together for eight years.  In those eight years we have only had cable for two, those were the first two years we lived in Los Angeles.  We decided to ditch cable when we moved to a different apartment in order to save money, the digital change over had occurred during that time and so we were left without television channels at all.  We survived the way we always had, Netflix and our ever expanding collection of DVD’s.

Luckily neither of us has a problem with watching the same movie or T.V. show over, and over, and over again.  Occasionally we will feel the loss of not having six hundred channels of real housewives, pregnant teenagers, dancing has-beens, and those unclassifiable bitches who’s fame I can’t explain, to freely surf.  When this happens we have a magical tool called the internet where most T.V. can be viewed on the thirteen inch screen of my Macbook Pro.

Within our vast DVD collection we have each developed favorites that we could watch anytime, anywhere and they make us feel instantly better.  These may not be the best movies in the world, they may not even be a good movie but like a security blanket they wrap around you and protect you from any negative feelings.

Step Brothers is my comfort movie.  After what feels like 200 viewings I still find it absolutely hilarious, I laugh at all the appropriate moments and for the 106 minutes that it graces my T.V. screen nothing can go wrong.

I thought about this last week when I found out that my temporary work assignment, that I was hoping would become my permanent work assignment, would be ending.  After this Friday I will go back to the world of resumes, cover letters, references, and interviews.  To cope with this I will slip Step Brothers out of its cardboard case, pop it out of the holder, and slide it into the DVD player.

It will comfort me as I bombard Craigslist with a barrage of resumes and “please hire me emails.”  When I’ve finished watching it once through I will start it all over again and enjoy it as if I was watching it for the first time.

I don’t believe that there needs to be a psychological reason behind every comfort movie, but after thinking about it there might just be an explanation for Step Brothers being mine.

If you’ve not seen it (if not what the hell is wrong with you?) the story is about two 40 year old men played by Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly who still live at home.  They essentially are two me who never or refused to grow up.  Still supported by their parents  they don’t have jobs, or bills, or any other adult duties to perform.  Even their aspirations are childish as they attempt to build their dream company “Prestige Worldwide.”

I will openly admit that often the laziest parts of me will become jealous of their lives, eating microwaved Nacho’s for breakfast, wearing a Chewbacca mask around the house, or just having a treehouse where I can keep all my vintage Hustler magazine collection.

I usually watch it when I have my own adult duties and responsibilities to fulfill, when their weight has begun to stress me out.  How could I or any have any worries when hearing Will Ferrell say “I smoked pot with Johnny Hopkins.  It was Johnny Hopkins and Sloan Kettering, and we were blazing that shit up every day.”

Think about your comfort movie or T.V. episode.  You may never have realized it but I bet you have one.  Tell us what yours is in the comment section or post it as a comment on our facebook wall.

posted by: brian snider

thao & mirah

this is my charles peterson photo from the evening

Every year we lived in Los Angeles when Jaime’s birthday rolled around we always took a trip home to Seattle.  As a result it was never left up to me to plan a party or buy a cake or even buy and wrap presents.  Usually she would get a couple of small gifts but really the trip home was her present.  This year we were already home and it fell on me to put together some kind of party.

I didn’t know what we should do until about two weeks ago when I noticed that the power duo of Thao & Mirah were playing at the Crocodile in Belltown.

I began following Mirah about two years ago but she’s been around in the Pacific North West for over a decade.  She’s been quite successful for a Northwest act in the post grunge era.  Thao and her band The Get Down Stay Down, I was not familiar with until now.  Her music is similar to Mirah, perhaps a little more on the rock side.  She’s got a unique voice that I couldn’t quite identify until I heard someone compare her to Cat Power.

I bought two tickets and set to invite as many as I could to the show.  I wanted it to be a surprise so I didn’t tell her until we got to the Crocodile.  I was expecting it to be a fun evening with some great music.  I was wrong in the best way possible.

another action shot... the best I could do with a digital elf

The big group I was hoping for fizzled until it was just Jaime’s best friend Eryn (she’ll be happy about the mention) and her boyfriend Ryan, which was perfectly fine since we always have a great time together.  Thao & Mirah were not just great, they were down right amazing.  

I had secretly been listening to their self titled album since it was released at the end of April.  This is a perfect collaboration where Thao brings a more polished and pop beat to Mirahs often lounge/folk lo-fi vocals and guitar.  It is an album that can totally stick in your head and have you singing “oh, oh, how dare you,” all day long.

Seeing them live totally exceeded my expectations and easily made me a die hard fan.  Since I’ve already gushed about their debut album you will understand how incredible when I say, I think that they may be even better live.

This isn’t the kind of music that has you flailing your arms and legs about but is perfect for holding your girlfriend (and there were a lot of girlfriends as easily over 50% of the audience were lesbians) from behind and rocking to the beautiful rhythms and vocals.

I was rather proud of myself for having pulled off such a great surprise for Jaime’s birthday.  When her actual birthday rolled around on Monday I felt like an alien gradually learning about the birthday customs of Earthlings.  I completely forgot that you need birthday cake Jaime and I rushed down to QFC and after studying the cakes for about ten minutes we decided on the fruit flan.

    All in all the evening of the concert and Jaime’s actual birthday went well, but I am positive that we will never forget about her 27th as it was truly a wonderful experience holding her and rocking to Thao & Mirah.

If your interested in looking for more from Thao & Mirah you can find a video of their performance of bag of hammers on our facebook page: face book: secretly important

Also visit their band page at Kill Rock Stars where you can download two of their songs for free.

Lastly check out a great article from bitch magazine giving you five reasons for why you should see them on tour.

posted by: brian snider

who you callin’ scruffy lookin’

chewbacca the star wars sex symbol.

I am a life long Star Wars fan.  I am one of those crazy people who will seemingly buy almost anything George Lucas slaps a Star Wars logo on.  I am not however one of those deranged fans who dresses up as a little known bounty hunter who has all of two and a half seconds of screen time, then parades around in public as that character.

Last weekend my wife and I took our nephew Isaiah to the Star Wars exhibit at the Seattle Pacific Science Center.  For someone like me who is absolutely fanatical about the movies, especially the original three, this is a dream come true.

This was my opportunity to get a close up look at Luke’s landspeeder, Darth Vader, Chewbacca, Yoda, and the Millennium Falcon, so on and so on.  When we had walked through the entire exhibit, I turned us around and we went through it again.  I could have spent all day there studying each item on display, looking at the tiny crack in the rubber of Yoda or discovering the tiny writing on the side of the Millennium Falcon.

If there was one thing that attempted to ruin the experience for me it was those fans who came dressed up.  Unlike with the Harry Potter exhibit where dressing up meant putting on slacks, a v-neck sweater, and one of four different striped ties, Star Wars fans have large elaborate costumes.

I have come to accept that while I could blow your typical fan out of the water with my knowledge of Star Wars, these costumed creepos could easily demolish me.  Not because they love Star Wars more than I do (The Empire Strikes Back is my number one desert island movie) it’s because they do nothing else, this has become their life.

You might have seen that man who chooses to live as a baby video that began making the rounds on Youtube last week.  Personally I see very little difference between these fans and that sad baby-man.  Both have chosen to live in a fantasy life, and as tolerant as I want to believe I am I just cannot accept.

I thought this was super cool... I don't know why.

It disturbs me to see a 250 pound man squeeze into a skin tight Stormtrooper costume and walk around striking poses that I struck when I was ten.  My wife would say good for them for being brave enough to display their crazy right out in the open.  I say that it creeps me out the see them in public and the thought that they might dress up at home when their alone literally frightens me.

no one ever dresses up as Yoda, why not?  He's cool.

To a certain degree I understand what is happening here.  For those who were kids when the original movies came out, we had less authentic looking merchandise to interact with.  Our lightsabers were any stick you could find, our lazar blasters were any toy gun you had lying around.  We relied heavily on our imagination.

Now things have become so realistic and elaborate, I see how it could be hard for these big kids to resist living out the fantasy like they wanted to as children.

jaime and I are divorcing so she can marry this wampa

There are many things at times that we would like to do when and where ever we want, as it turns out when you become an adult you have to resist those urges.  I’m not here to kill anyones imagination, but if that overweight lady in the Princess Leia costume had taken all the hours that it no doubt took to create that costume and applied it to some other creative outlet, she might not be the crazy Princess Leia.  Instead she might be know as that talented sculptor.  They’re not untalented they’ve just chosen to waste it on something that creeps me out.

posted by: brian snider

ask already

I would love to push these assholes into shark infested waters

I knew what I had to do, it was perhaps the most important part of getting married.  We had a dress, a date, and a place but I still had not dropped down to one knee and asked Jaime to marry me.

I had never pictured myself proposing before, I had no mental image of what I always thought it should look like.  This doesn’t sound romantic but I found that while idea of getting on one knee and professing my undying love for Jaime and then asking her a question I already knew the answer to with a ring she’d already seen... a little embarrassing.

My plan was to really surprise her in the hope that her shock would take the pressure off me and put it back onto her.

I have never been a creative question asker.  I wasn’t the guy in high school with the inventive way of asking a girl out to the dance.  The most creative I ever got was putting roses and a letter on her car.  Who really remembers how you were asked to homecoming when you’re 73?  Who even wants to know how you were asked to homecoming?

Needless to say I was short on ideas and took to carrying the ring in my pocket hoping the right moment would strike and I would ask.  The moment never came and as each day went by and I didn’t ask I could feel Jaime’s frustration mounting.

By the end of April I decided the time was right, I don’t remember the exact day but come hell or high water I would ask.  I had been getting the sense from Jaime that if I didn’t do it soon a major fight would arise, the topic of said fight would certainly concern commitment.

We were going to a show that evening, our friend Molly was performing her show That Girl at the Comedy Central stage on Santa Monica boulevard in West Hollywood. (If your not familiar with Molly Prather, you need to be.)

My plan had been to take Jaime up to the Griffith Observatory and ask her to marry me as the sun set over the ever expanding city of Los Angeles.  I was going to do it before we left for the show however as it crept closer I was running out of time and became afraid that a romantic act like that would be so out of character that she would know what we were going up there to do the whole drive up.  I lost my nerve.

As we left for the theater I was desperately thinking of how I should ask, but I drew a blank.  Jaime on the other hand was becoming visibly frustrated with me, almost as if she’d read my mind, knew my original plan and was angry that I did not follow through. (I have an uncanny ability of knowing exactly how far I can push Jaime and have an even more uncanny ability to ignore my instinct and push her too far.)

If you’ve ever been to “Theater Row” on Santa Monica boulevard then you are aware that it is not considered to be one of LA’s more scenic locations.  It’s a dirty rundown area where the tranny hookers appear like cockroaches at nightfall.

Jaime parked the car and like I had become a puppet  no longer in control of my actions I found myself running around the car and opening her door before she could get out.  I dropped to one knee next to an old cigarette, a syringe, and a used condom and there I professed to her my undying love.

It wasn’t picture worthy, it wasn’t how little girls everywhere imagine it, this was just some schmuck dropping to his knee on a dingy side street.  I’ve often thought about what I would have done if I could do it all over again, if I could ask her anywhere at anytime, and without a doubt I wouldn’t change a thing.  It was done, it was official, it was exactly how I pictured myself doing it.

posted by: brian snider

gleeked

“Don’t Stop Believing”

-Journey

I’ve totally missed the boat on being part of the cultural phenomenon that is Glee. Sure the television show is in its early stages, but those who are total “Glee Hards” have already been formed, and my new found obsession for the show seems even more ridiculous for a person my age. However, in true Glee fashion, I ignore my haters and let my Glee flag fly!

Don’t worry this is not a post to convince anyone that they themselves should watch Glee. I was recommended to watch it many times, and I constantly resisted, until Netflix put it on there instant stream. It was either Glee or watch Eat, Pray, Love ( a book so boring I didn’t want to do any of them).

Finally I caved, and watched the show, which has led me to realize two things; one--when your closer in age to thirty than twenty, squealing like a twelve year old over a high school romance on a t.v. show is not sexy and two -- I really miss being an actress.

Now don’t get ahead of yourself; I don't miss being an actress because I want to convey an important social message about love and acceptance through the medium of television.

No, I miss being an actress because I hate not being good at anything.

I’m like a Glee cautionary tale--child actor, high school star performer, a college graduate in theater with a BFA, who moves to Los Angeles to chase her dream only to realize she won’t “make it.”

The hardest part about me deciding to no longer be an actor has been that my identity was so closely tied to this career choice I have no idea what else I’m good at. I was a good actress, I loved to perform, and I had a place in the world. Like they say on Glee-’being part of something special, makes you special’-and it’s true.

As I continue to take steps toward adulthood, and leave my Glee years behind, more and more I miss the solace of having a singular dream, and thinking it is all you want in the world. I could have become a successful actress, but my dream collided with reality, and the truth was I outgrew it.

I’m totally reading into this t.v. show way more than I should, but I’m in vulnerable place, and I tend to look to imaginary worlds to show me some kind of reality of my own. I’ve found Glee in a time of my life when I rarely feel passion for something as strongly as I did when I was 16.

While Glee may be nothing more than amazing entertainment, the stirring in my loins when I watch it reminds me that I am someone that demands a dream for myself. I have no idea what that dream may be or where it will lead, all I know is that I need to head in some new directions (little glee humor for you fans!)

posted by: jaime navarro

daily observation: 004

This has been a long week and it turns out it’s only Wednesday.  I will be attending tonights Mariners game with Jaime and our friends Katie and Ryan.  Subsequently I have not had an opportunity to write up a new post, so instead I give you; Daily observation: 004.

Over the weekend I visited what might just be one of my favorite stores in the world, Archie McPhees.  It’s your typical Joke shop with rubber chickens, discontinued toys, and enough tiny plastic people and animals to replace all your real friends.

I could spend thousands of dollars there but because I don’t have room or a need for an actual stoplight or a giant plush mounted horse head, I instead bought a hand full of tiny red eyed bunnies and two businessmen.  I also bought some post cards... here are two of my favorites.

posted by: brian snider

smoak on the water

he's also good at swinging the bat with that doughnut on it

I want to get this on the record before he blows up and everyone jumps on the band wagon.  Justin Smoak is my favorite Seattle Mariner and I think he’s going to be very good.  There, I said it.  May it be etched in stone.

To make a proclamation like that about an unestablished star is dangerous.  Especially for me, because most often when I go out on the limb like that it snaps off and I fall to the ground crying and embarrassed.  Which is exactly what happened to my last favorite Mariner, Richie Sexson.

For those of you not familiar with the sad and woe some tale of Richie Sexson, here it is in a nutshell.  In 2005 he signed a four year $50 million contract with the Mariners.  The contract was steep and inflated for a player of his caliber, I was still beyond excited.

You see I’d followed his career since he was a rookie with Cleveland.  Perhaps it was the fact that he was a local boy, or perhaps that he was tall (6’ 8”) and goofy, either way I loved to watch him play.

His first two seasons with the team went well, but by 2007 his power was diminishing and his batting average dropped.  By 2008 strikeouts devoured his at bats and the hometown fans were openly booing him.  By July the Mariners released him.  Eventually he was picked up by the Yankees, even that fell flat as just over a month after signing, the Yankees released him as well.  He would never play baseball again.

You can see why I have been hesitant to proclaim another player as my favorite, again.  I was afraid that as soon as I became invested in him, it would all result in a catastrophic disappointment.

Last year when the Mariners traded Cliff Lee for Justin Smoak, people immediately wanted him to be as good a hitter as Lee was a pitcher.  He came with a lot of promise but at his very young age was still struggling to figure things out.

When I saw him play in Anaheim last year, I wanted to “come out” as a full on Smoak supporter but didn’t want to jinx him.  He did well at first but soon after arriving in Seattle he began to struggle and he was sent down to the minors to develop further.  I breathed a sigh of relief that I’d held back, perhaps later when he got things sorted out I could openly root for him.

When this season began I couldn’t wait to see how he’d progressed.  Spring training had been difficult for him but by the time the season started he began to excel.  Not to star or superstar status (not yet anyway) but he was progressing nicely.  I decided that I should be brave and go for it and make Smoak my favorite player.

I like to watch Felix Hernandez make batters look silly on a sinking curveball, or Franklin Gutierrez race down balls in center field, or Ichiro beat out an infield grounder for a base hit, but I love to watch Justin Smoak just play.

If he ends up a star with a long career, then I will take pride in rooting for him first.  If like Richie Sexson he burns out after ten seasons, then I will look like a fool.  I just can’t sit by and not be an outspoken supporter of my favorite play regardless of which way his career swings.

posted by: brian snider

[insert garden pun here]

working really hard

I was at my breaking point, it had been cold and wet and rainy long enough.  Last Saturday was beautiful but I was sick and lost the entire day on the couch.  By Sunday the rain had returned.  For the first time in my adult life I had a back yard of my own and the only one who was able to enjoy it was my dog.

Well, the weather gods blessed us with another beautiful weekend (a chilly weekend for Los Angeles) Sunday I took the full advantage of the day.

i even taught jaime to garden

The morning began with a trip to Garden Sphere in Tacoma, thanks to Groupon who ran a deal: $20 for a $40 gift card.  This was exactly the opportunity I’d been waiting for, to finally stock up on everything in needed for the garden; seeds, starters, and supplies.

chocolate tomato plant with hidden marigold seeds

I’m not well experienced in what gardening stores look like or should look like, but in my opinion Garden Sphere is a great place.  Knowledgable staff, nice selection, perhaps a little pricy but all in all it was a fun experience.  Also they had chickens and baby chicks in the back.

Most of my planters and pots were ready, I needed only to get the starters planted and seeds in the ground.  So here is a list of what I planted.

-cilantro (starter)

-moroccan spearmint (starter)

-sage (starter)

-walla walla onions (starters)

-broccoli (seeds)

-carrots (seeds)

-cucumber (seeds)

-pole beans (seeds)

artichoke and two chinese cabbages

I combined these with what my Guru had given me the previous evening.

-artichoke (starter)

-chinese cabbage (starter)

-chocolate tomato plant (starter)

-more lettuce (starter)

I also bought a few flowers at Garden Sphere, I didn’t choose them for any reason other than I just liked how they looked in the pictures.  I also bought some Marigolds which were to be planted along with the Chocolate tomatoes.  My Guru informed me that planting marigolds will help keep bugs off the tomatoes as they do not have an appealing smell to them.

olive, not working hard at all

The beautiful turned into a fantastic evening. I invited my parents over for dinner, and it stayed warm long enough to sit on the patio and enjoy a barbecued dinner (flank steak, bok choy, and asparagus).  The lights I hung earlier in the afternoon shown like stars as the sun began to set.  I could not have asked for a better day to lift me from my depression and fill me with excitement for what I hope are many more similar days this summer.

posted by: brian snider