Celebrate Monk's 90th birthday

Thelonious Monk would have been 90 years young on October 10th this year. I found this out a few days ago when listening to some jazz on the radio. On the same radio show, they announced a documentary show about him that I totally missed. I wanted to record it, but I went to sleep instead.
I felt obligated to do something to celebrate his birthday, and I did.

I just came back from the Great American Music Hall in SF. I went there with my wifey, and our preborn beansky boy (or girl?), Avi, Aaron, and Caren (Avi's date?).
We heard and saw two Jazz ensembles - Monk's Trio who gave an amazing performance...almost like having the great Monk play on stage himself. Then came TS Monk (son of Thelonious) and his Sextet.


Holy shit, they were amazing. Blew me away. I haven't been to a good show in months, and this one made me realize that I have to start hunting for shows again. Anyways, there's no point in trying to describe the mastery of these players in words...I'll just say that I expected them to be really good, and I was still surprised.

By the way - Helen Sung, who played piano for TS Monk's sextet was absolutely mind blowing. I mean oh my freakin' god, and she's probably in her 30's or something, and already at such a level that one wonders how can she get any better. Too bad it's so hard to find these musicians on the mainstream channels. It definitely makes me appreciate the added value of going to jazz shows.


here's to Thelonious Monk - a genius.

Just before I go to bed...

OK, so...after posting the last one, with the drawing and Jimi and all... I found myself again in the hands of the unforgiving, rabbit hole deep, information abyss known as the internet. I was still bored, and publishing on me blog here has yet to become a proven and worthy remedy to my elusive boredom.

Anyways, as I was surfing away (more like lying on a boogie board and idling away with the tide), I managed to run into some horror movie clips on YouTube (House of a 1000 Corpses was one of them). and that got me thinking about hillbilly towns deep inside the rural US of A.

You know all those stories about those small towns that have no more than 300 folks, all inbred, gun swinging, truck driving, tobacco spittin', so on and so forth? Well, I found me a likin' to them folks.
So anyways, I Googled "scary hillbilly towns" and found this forum post - http://www.city-data.com/forum/general-u-s/125496-scary-hillbilly-towns.html and that
led me to the Ozark County, home of a town called Gainesville, Missouri. I don't know what I was looking for exactly. Maybe I wanted to find some old 1950's news story about some crazy guy killing away in bizarre ways or something (like this guy Ed Gein - http://www.chasingthefrog.com/reelfaces/texaschainsaw.php). By the way, Blind Melon wrote a song about this deranged murderer called "Skinned" - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ySL4VgFdIE

Then, I found an online newspaper, and this paper had some amusing articles about the town (now, I don't know about y'all, but I think they're pretty damn funny). Here's what I found:

1. "Hootin an Hollarin" - I didn't realize this kinda stuff was still around. I'd like to go on one of those traditional festivals and take pictures. Here's the link:
http://www.ozarkcountytimes.com/welcome/hootin.html

2. "Fishing and Hunting" - Here's a quote that I think is priceless:
"Ozark County enjoys one of the best hunting success ratios in the states - the odds are on the side of the hunter" --that's funny -- "the odds are on the side of the hunter" --them rabbits ain't even packin' !

check it out: http://www.ozarkcountytimes.com/welcome/fishing.html

OK, I'm really just kidding around. Judging by the only actual visit I've had to an old fashioned American town like that, I might even go back to visit. I remember going to a town in California with my brothers and my dad (I think it was on the way to LA, but I can't remember the name) and eating in a real town diner. We were sittin' at a real saloon-type wooden table, there was a bar with whiskey (I can only imagine, since I was probably about 10 years old). I had me some scrambled eggs cooked home style by the lady that owns the place. And these guys walked in and out of the swinging doors wearing boots and cowboy hats, talkin' bout puttin' gasoline in their trucks and lookin' for gold...Seriously. One dude came up and after telling him we're from Israel, said with a smile - "Shalom !". That's what I call a small freakin' world, eh?

Anyways, it's getting late, and I get up too fucking early for work to be staying up late again...

nighty night

frustrated and angry

Don't ask me why I was angry, frustrated or whatever you want to call it. Maybe because it is Sunday night and I'm sick of my job by now (Oct 21 2007) and don't like the idea that another week is starting, when I just barely got recharged after the last one. Weekends are short.
It's time to make a change for the better. Or at least a change.

Anyways, here's what came out of my little self-inflicted art therapy session. I was listening to the invincible RHCP "Blood Sugar...." album while trying to draw, paint, or something.

CLICK ON THE PIC
What do you think?


Yes, that's Jimi.