Sinister: "DDR= Don't Do it, Rinaldo" or "Randy Newman gets it right"

[Rinaldo Thatchez]

A while back someone was talking about what voice they heard when they read 
posts. You're free, of course, to choose any voice you wish for me when you 
read this, but, if you'd like to hear my voice in your head as it sounds 
right now in real life, it sounds something like this: it is hoarse, deep 
and sticky from overindulgence, overuse and lack of rest, marked by a  
slight California dude accent (like Keanu Reeves turned down a bit), and 
interrupted by the occasional moan.

This post is part love letter and part whingefest (and you can bet it's 
gonna be a rambler). Oh, I do love to complain. Right at the top of things 
to complain about is the terrible pain I am in. Nipping at its heels in the 
second position is my past night's inability to sleep. But I don't think the 
pain has anything to worry about. I have a feeling that this is a chart 
topper with legs. We could be looking at an historic reign at number one for 
this pain. Insert moan. I reinjured myself last night. Sprained my ankle 
something awful in May, crutches, air brace, vicodin (it wasn't all bad), 
the whole shebang. Anyhoo, I was making a fine recovery until last night 
when I took a bad step on some uneven ground and gave it a really good 
twist. Really good. Now I'm just waiting for mumsy to come back from the 
store with Dr. Pepper and ibuprofen. This is, I think, all I can look 
forward to today.

But, you may be asking, as Heart once did, "what about love?" Yes, the love 
I mentioned. Well, I fell in love last night, again, for the first time. We 
had a glorious night. Nothing extraordinary mind you. To hear me describe it 
you might think it sounds quite an average evening. But it was perfect 
because we shared it. I am just about as smitten as can be right now with 
this city. Oh, sorry. Did you think I was talking about a person? No, L.A. 
is my lady. Every time I come back here she opens herself up to me a little 
more and she only becomes more beautiful.

I remember, growing up down here, being taught in grade school about the 
different types of climates that exist in the world. They told me that 
coastal Southern California has a 'mediterranean' climate. Maybe you've seen 
the Olive Garden commercial where the old Italian women steal the old men's 
clothes while they are swimming. This prank is supposed to illustrate the 
sense of fun and passion for life that people in that region have which, the 
advertisers would have you believe, you can experience to some degree when 
you eat at the Olive Garden. Now, if by passion for life you mean 
breadsticks your dog couldn't chew through and by sense of fun you mean wine 
that will unstop your sink then yeah, that's what you'll get at the Olive 
Garden. But other than that, I think the commercial speaks the truth. I've 
traveled a bit and I would say that that people of the Mediterranean do seem 
to be more open and fun loving than others. Last night it seemed to me that 
L.A. might share more than a climate with these peoples.

I was at the Farmer's Market for karaoke last night and the joie d' vivre on 
display was just staggering. Someone sang Randy Newman's "I Love L.A.", a 
brilliant song incidentally, and when it came time for the call and response 
at the end everyone was screaming "we love it!" and we meant it. A woman who 
had to be 65 if she was a day sang "I've got the music in me" followed by a 
vato type guy singing Buster Poindexter's "Hot! Hot! Hot!" which generated a 
conga line. A mulleted dude in an Iron Maiden shirt sang "Shiny Happy 
People" sans irony. And this was a party for everybody. Eight to 
eighty-eight. Every color you can imagine. Everybody shaking what the lord 
gave 'em. I had signed up to sing "Baba O'Riley" and was a little worried 
because not many people were really doing rock n' roll. But I got up, gave 
it my all, and their cheers were as warm and sincere as a mother's love. It 
was glorious.

It was upon leaving the market that my ankle and the asphalt conspired 
together to cut my night short. But, like I said, I was in love. Mere injury 
could not stop us. A quick stop at the drugstore for a cold pack and it was 
time to bowl. At the bowling alley I discovered several things:

1. I bowl better with my ass exposed. Don't ask me to explain it and don't 
look if you're just gonna complain about how white, flabby, hairy, and/or 
pimply it is. It's power is undeniable. James Brown got soulpower. I got 
asspower.

2. Rum and cokes sit surprisingly well on red wine. Is it some magic 
exception to the no mixing rule? Or did I just magically dodge a bullet the 
way you do sometimes? Clearly more research needs to be done in this area.

3. DDR is fawking hard. How do Chu do what he do? Granted, I was drizunk on 
the trizunk and nursing a game ankle but damn! This was failure on a whole 
new level.

When the bowling had run its course (108!) we all went out to Canter's, a 24 
hour deli with some damn good matzo ball soup. Real cities are open 24 
hours. Do you know what Seattle has that's open 24 hours? Nothing you really 
want to visit. Greasy spoons full of vampires and people with nowhere else 
to go.

I got in about 4:45 and for once, I realized, I was exactly where I wanted 
to be. I didn't have that vague longing that someone on the list was talking 
about recently, thinking that other places were somehow better and the 
people there were having more fun. Someone once said (how many times have I 
said that in a post?) Los Angeles is the lover in whose arms you would not 
want to die. Well, last night, I would've said the pleasure, the privilege 
is mine.

ice packs and advil,

Rinaldo

_________________________________________________________________
Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp

+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
        +---+  Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list  +---+
     To send to the list mail sinister at missprint.org. To unsubscribe
     send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to
     majordomo at missprint.org.  WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister
 +-+       "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper           +-+
 +-+  "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+
 +-+    "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000     +-+
 +-+  "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000  +-+
 +-+  "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001   +-+
 +-+               Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa                 +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+