As is our policy, we took Sunday off.
(Oh, if you’re just logging in at work, after the weekend, check out the entry below, Nov 14: Shiznits and Gizziggles, if you want to see multiple pixx of In-Studio Action.)
I spent the morning yelling “ROCK AND ROLL!” with Coco, which is what Coco and I enjoy doing in the morning. She’s grown up a lot; of course, she used to pronounce it ROCKITY ROLL.
Then we went, “Sshh!” and whispered, “rockandroll rockandroll,” and then I would say, “Sine yo penny on the runny kind!” a la Pootie Tang, and play gimme-five, gimme-five.
Coco is my guru.
I ate a Tempeh Reuben at French Meadow, on Lyndale, as I have for the past five days in a row. Then I went to see Sideways at the Uptown Theater; brilliant. It’s good to see that filmmakers are still paying close attention to American Life.
Fabulous score, too, by some mystery man named Rolfe Kent.
Then I came back, talked album theoretics with Dan over Phillipine chicken with olives, and watched a DVD of Dig!, which is a compelling tale of rock and roll rivalry and self-destruction. Highlights: Zia from the Dandy Warhols, second sexiest woman in rock history (and whom, once in Portland, I passed up the opportunity to hang out with so I could go back to my hotel room and do drugs), and Joel Gion, the endlessly charming and lovable tambourine player (seemingly little more than a very compelling, hilarious stage ornament) in the Brian Jonestown Massacre. Joel Gion is now my rock and roll kinky lord of darkness.
But I must confess: I’m not a fan of either band’s. The music just sounds like 60’s revivalism to me. So to hear all these dudes proclaiming these bands genius and the-last-real-rock-and-roll-act puzzled me, and made the film disjointed and odd, from my point of view.