The family home of my youth features some sloped ceilings. In my bedroom, and in the hallway outside my room and my sister's room, tall people can inflict serious damage on themselves if they are not mindful. And as mindfulness is not a personal forte, inflict I did. You hear it before you feel it, then it starts to hurt and if it's a bad one you hear some ringing. Then you say 'fuck me'. Then you go to school, probably mildly concussed.
I do sometimes reflect on what I might have accomplished with my life if I hadn't killed a bushel of brain cells every other morning for years and years. I don't think I found Chris Elliott hilarious until I was tall enough to crack my head on that ceiling, so that tells you something right there.
Wanting my son to have every opportunity, I do endeavor to protect his noggin as much as possible. Especially now, you know, when he's got that baby soft skull thing going on. From friends who have kids, and from the interwebz, I've heard some scary stories of dropped babies, vicious falls, etc. And while I know bumps and bruises (and mild concussions) are ultimately inevitable, so far we've been pretty lucky.
I had my first incident a couple days ago. Henry and I were out shopping for our old ladies. I had him strapped to the front of me in the new fancy carrier that I don't really like (I still prefer the Baby Bjorn). I had bags in both my hands, and we were leaving the mall. Somebody half held the door for me, but not really, so we weren't going to make it through. As my hands were full, I instinctually turned my shoulder into the closing door. If I hadn't lost all those brain cells back in the day I likely would not have made this mistake, but in my diminished state it didn't dawn on me that what would hit the door first was Henry's tender head.
I'm not sure if it's the most sickening sound I've heard in my life, but it's gotta be Top Three. I felt nauseous, literally. But the boy, tough as nails, barely stirred. And reconstructing it I think my shoulder hit at the same time, so not all the pressure of the door was on him. But still. It sucked.
Not entirely unrelated, one bad thing about winter is I strap the son onto my front and then my big winter jacket goes all the way around him and gets zipped up over his head. So instead of people seeing that I'm carrying this impossibly cute little guy, it just looks like I've got a massive and extremely odd-shaped stomach. It's simply terrible for meeting chicks.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
In This Blog I Bitch About Tournaments
I think it must take a very specific temperament to play a ton of tournaments. The pain from beats in cash games is cumulative. Even the worst of beats, in the biggest of pots, are only really that painful if you're already having a terrible session. Or I guess if you're playing outside of your bankroll, but that's a different issue.
Tourneys, alternatively, can deliver beats that not only cost you money but render hours and hours of work futile. In one hand. One terrible card can ruin your life.
I played the Supernova Freeroll today. And before I complain, I will point out that part of the reason I had a big stack with only about 5% of the field remaining was because I gave someone a beat shortly after we made the money. A loose player had raised in fairly late position, and I had A2 OTB. I had him covered maybe 3 to 2, and I thought I had just tons of fold equity, so I decided to raise (there was not room to raise/fold, ftr, I was committed). He turned over AK, and a deuce was the first card out. He didn't improve. I know that's a painful way for him to go, because AK feels like such a strong hand and A2 feels like a joke. I don't think I played the hand wrong, but it had to sting.
So it's not about luck or fairness or anything. It's just the viciousness of poker. He felt it there, and I felt it later. On my first trouble hand I again had about a 3 to 2 chip edge over my combatant, and I had AK of hearts. It got all-in preflop, he had AT, and this time a ten is the first card out. By the turn I had a gutshot, plus my king was still live, plus a flush draw. So 15 outs. But no dice. I would have been chip leader, but instead I was reeling.
Couple hands later my AJ>Q4 AIPF (he had a straight by the turn) and I was done. I "should" have been chip leader after that AK hand, and instead I'm out in 90-something. Working your way through a 2500 person tournament just to have one lowly ten take away the potential huge cash (I still had an okay cash, especially considering it's a freeroll, but all the decent money's at the final table). I do love tournaments, but I really don't know how people can handle them being their main source of poker income. Maybe that's why Shaun Deeb retired?
Tourneys, alternatively, can deliver beats that not only cost you money but render hours and hours of work futile. In one hand. One terrible card can ruin your life.
I played the Supernova Freeroll today. And before I complain, I will point out that part of the reason I had a big stack with only about 5% of the field remaining was because I gave someone a beat shortly after we made the money. A loose player had raised in fairly late position, and I had A2 OTB. I had him covered maybe 3 to 2, and I thought I had just tons of fold equity, so I decided to raise (there was not room to raise/fold, ftr, I was committed). He turned over AK, and a deuce was the first card out. He didn't improve. I know that's a painful way for him to go, because AK feels like such a strong hand and A2 feels like a joke. I don't think I played the hand wrong, but it had to sting.
So it's not about luck or fairness or anything. It's just the viciousness of poker. He felt it there, and I felt it later. On my first trouble hand I again had about a 3 to 2 chip edge over my combatant, and I had AK of hearts. It got all-in preflop, he had AT, and this time a ten is the first card out. By the turn I had a gutshot, plus my king was still live, plus a flush draw. So 15 outs. But no dice. I would have been chip leader, but instead I was reeling.
Couple hands later my AJ>Q4 AIPF (he had a straight by the turn) and I was done. I "should" have been chip leader after that AK hand, and instead I'm out in 90-something. Working your way through a 2500 person tournament just to have one lowly ten take away the potential huge cash (I still had an okay cash, especially considering it's a freeroll, but all the decent money's at the final table). I do love tournaments, but I really don't know how people can handle them being their main source of poker income. Maybe that's why Shaun Deeb retired?
Rub One Out
Has that phrase been around forever? I swear I'd never heard it a year ago. And lately, it's everywhere. Pop culture references abound (Vera Farmiga suggests George Clooney do just that in "Up In The Air", for example). And my very own wife, the mother of my child, dropped the phrase casually just the other day.
Actually, I'm glad she used it. It's so much better than the alternatives. When I was growing up, you had your goofy inanities ("make the bald man cry", for example), or your violent vulgarities (any number of phrases ending with "off": jerk, whack, jack, beat). Neither camp boasts any enticing options. Rub one out, on the other hand, seems practically classy by comparison. So I'm all for it. I just wanna know when it came to be. Have I been living under a rock, oblivious to the latest trends in masturbatory terminology, or is it new?
Anyway. Happy Holidays.
Actually, I'm glad she used it. It's so much better than the alternatives. When I was growing up, you had your goofy inanities ("make the bald man cry", for example), or your violent vulgarities (any number of phrases ending with "off": jerk, whack, jack, beat). Neither camp boasts any enticing options. Rub one out, on the other hand, seems practically classy by comparison. So I'm all for it. I just wanna know when it came to be. Have I been living under a rock, oblivious to the latest trends in masturbatory terminology, or is it new?
Anyway. Happy Holidays.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Best. Gift. Ever.
It's Rachel's 32nd birthday today. I'll always remember how old she was when we first started dating cause of this exchange I had with my banker. I don't know how, but my 'new' girlfriend came up. And the guy asked how old she was. And I said, "27". To which he replied, "niii-iiiice". And gave me a fist bump. It was kind of strange and inappropriate but greatly amusing.
We went to "Up In The Air" last week. Even though it opens most places Christmas Day, for some reason Vancouver got it a couple weeks early. And it's really quite good. But anyway, there's a scene where one character tells another that all life's best moments are shared, that you don't really have any favorite memories where you're alone. So I tried to think of my favorite moments and I realized that not only are they all shared, they are all shared with Rachel. Not just the Henry-centric ones, all kinds of 'em from pretty much every stage of our still relatively brief life together.
Not to overstate it, but it does feel like my days started when I met her. Or at the very least, started anew. When I try to think of favorite memories from before we met (most of which are centered around the band -- particularly great gigs, signing the record deal, making a big budget video) they feel more like scenes from a movie. Whereas when I think of time shared with Rachel, I can still feel the moments, I can relive them as opposed to just reviewing them.
Like this one time. Rachel, who has no music training, started surreptitiously taking guitar lessons. And, simultaneously, surreptitiously taking voice lessons. So that one day, while we were just sitting around she picked up my guitar, and with no preamble, without so much as a throat-clearing, sang and played for me the most beautiful song I ever heard, before or since.
At the time I was just stunned. I mean, partly because I knew she didn't play guitar or sing and yet here she was doing both exceedingly well (that's a WTF? moment if ever there was one). But mainly because this impossibly perfect moment had just arrived unannounced in my life.
Best gift I ever got, by far. There's nobody else who could have given it to me. There's no other woman that could have impacted me the way she did (and does). There's no other woman on God's green earth for me.
Oh, and this year, for her birthday, I got her a coat.
We went to "Up In The Air" last week. Even though it opens most places Christmas Day, for some reason Vancouver got it a couple weeks early. And it's really quite good. But anyway, there's a scene where one character tells another that all life's best moments are shared, that you don't really have any favorite memories where you're alone. So I tried to think of my favorite moments and I realized that not only are they all shared, they are all shared with Rachel. Not just the Henry-centric ones, all kinds of 'em from pretty much every stage of our still relatively brief life together.
Not to overstate it, but it does feel like my days started when I met her. Or at the very least, started anew. When I try to think of favorite memories from before we met (most of which are centered around the band -- particularly great gigs, signing the record deal, making a big budget video) they feel more like scenes from a movie. Whereas when I think of time shared with Rachel, I can still feel the moments, I can relive them as opposed to just reviewing them.
Like this one time. Rachel, who has no music training, started surreptitiously taking guitar lessons. And, simultaneously, surreptitiously taking voice lessons. So that one day, while we were just sitting around she picked up my guitar, and with no preamble, without so much as a throat-clearing, sang and played for me the most beautiful song I ever heard, before or since.
At the time I was just stunned. I mean, partly because I knew she didn't play guitar or sing and yet here she was doing both exceedingly well (that's a WTF? moment if ever there was one). But mainly because this impossibly perfect moment had just arrived unannounced in my life.
Best gift I ever got, by far. There's nobody else who could have given it to me. There's no other woman that could have impacted me the way she did (and does). There's no other woman on God's green earth for me.
Oh, and this year, for her birthday, I got her a coat.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Henry As Little Dictator
Don't let the fact he can bathe in a sink fool you. Henry Lawrence Jonat is large (well, for his age) and in charge. My sister, whose two children are both well past the up all night stage, was asking how things were going. And I was sort of explaining Henry's disruptive influence. She said something like, 'right, you have a little dictator living with you'. In a loving way. From experience, like.
And it's true. God bless him, he's the best thing that ever happened to me (only his mother even comes close), but he is running this household. It's always been a struggle for me, anyway, to create structure in my life. I rail against it at the same time as I crave it. But this is pretty nuts even for me. I can't even imagine what it's like for Rachel, who used to be about regular bed times and early morning workouts.
I'm not gonna give away too many of his secrets lest I embarrass him (although the bathing pic probably did that trick anyway). But while he's high maintenance, he's generally a pretty easily pleased young man. Epic fussiness generally only rears its head sometime between, say, 11pm and maybe 5am. Yes, it is happening big time as I write. Which means I better wrap it up and offer some assistance. See, now he's even affecting your lives, gentle readers. Little dictator indeed.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Tiger's Fall
It's the lead story on ESPN.com that Accenture just dropped its sponsorship of Tiger Woods. On NFL Sunday, even, that gets big play.
It's, of course, ridiculous that Tiger has gotten to be worth over a billion dollars just for being good at golf. But was any of that money really for being a good guy? There have certainly been enough grumbles from the PGA Tour to indicate he's probably a bit (or maybe a lot) of a prick. And nobody really cares cause he crushes on the course. But Accenture, which is the type of company that you could never explain to a child ('But what do they sell?' - 'Uh, like, they sell money-making, I think'), the type of company you expect Michael Moore to make a movie about, suddenly can't deign to be represented by an adulterer. Or, more accurately, a publicly-exposed adulterer.
Obviously I get it. It's about image, and he's pretty much a walking punch line right now. So you can't really blame Accenture. But the whole story is just rank with hypocrisy, from near every corner, going back well over 10 years. At least as long as 'Tiger Woods Inc.' has been around. And, in a broader sense, kind of like forever. I don't feel too bad for Tiger, per se, but I do think if we humans were less eager to pounce on each other when we falter, we'd be a little bit less of a cosmic joke.
It's, of course, ridiculous that Tiger has gotten to be worth over a billion dollars just for being good at golf. But was any of that money really for being a good guy? There have certainly been enough grumbles from the PGA Tour to indicate he's probably a bit (or maybe a lot) of a prick. And nobody really cares cause he crushes on the course. But Accenture, which is the type of company that you could never explain to a child ('But what do they sell?' - 'Uh, like, they sell money-making, I think'), the type of company you expect Michael Moore to make a movie about, suddenly can't deign to be represented by an adulterer. Or, more accurately, a publicly-exposed adulterer.
Obviously I get it. It's about image, and he's pretty much a walking punch line right now. So you can't really blame Accenture. But the whole story is just rank with hypocrisy, from near every corner, going back well over 10 years. At least as long as 'Tiger Woods Inc.' has been around. And, in a broader sense, kind of like forever. I don't feel too bad for Tiger, per se, but I do think if we humans were less eager to pounce on each other when we falter, we'd be a little bit less of a cosmic joke.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Preview Review III
Been to a couple movies lately. Henry's at an age where you can just have him along. If he gets upset, either you or your wife get up and take him to (worst case) the lobby or (best case) the entrance area of the theater and calm his baby ass down. People tell us to take advantage of this because it won't be long before he's too old/active to just view him as an accessory. Soon enough I won't even be able to watch my favorite television shows while he's awake. I shudder to think of it. But while that day may be fast approaching, it is not yet nigh. So I'll just put it out of mind for the time being.
Before I get to the trailers, let me tell you quickly about the two features. They were definitive proof of the 'it's best to go to a movie expecting it to be shit' theorem.
"Men Who Stare At Goats", which looked tremendously promising, was dull and self-conscious (yes, we get it, you used the word Jedi and Ewan MacGregor was in Star Wars). The highlight of the whole movie was when Rachel recognized that one of the guys was 'Ron' from 'Parks And Recreation'. Nice catch, honey! Speaking of which, that show is finding it's stride. Give it a second chance.
And tonight we went to the new installment of that "Twilight" thing, and while Edward might be the most fey hero in the history of motion pictures, the whole thing was entertaining enough. I think if I had not expected it to suck, I would have thought it did. But as I did, I didn't.
Now onto the previews. Scores are for the trailer's ability to conceal decent amounts of plot (Secret Score -- SS) and for whether it seems like the movie itself might be any good (Upside Score -- US). There's a bunch of 'em cause they're from two different trips to the cinema. I'll try to be brief.
Up In The Air -- George Clooney movies often look like they'll be great, and most of the time they end up being just kinda cute. The best ones are generally the ones where Clooney wears a suit (like 'Michael Clayton', and 'Good Night And Good Luck'). As he is frequently besuited throughout the trailer, I have high hopes. SS 5. US 8.
Avatar -- Man, that was a long trailer. Totally not my type of movie, but it does look epic. SS 3. US 6.
Extraordinary Measures -- Brendan Fraser is a Dad whose kids are sick. Harrison Ford is the eccentric genius who might have a cure. Honestly, I don't think there will be a scene in this thing you can't imagine right now if you think it through for a sec. Still, looks well-enough done, so if you're looking for tears of sadness followed by tears of joy, you're probably in luck. SS 4. US 3.
Valentine's Day -- All-star cast. One of those 'Love Actually' style things where seemingly unrelated stories have some kind of link (the girl from Story A is the guy from Story B's sister, and he dated the girl from Story C in College, and she works for the couple in Story D). This is the type of movie that's enjoyable and you like it but you never think of it for a minute before or after seeing it. And then later you meet somebody and they tell you it's their favorite movie of all time. And you are dumbfounded. You really just cannot fathom it. SS 5. US 5.
Invictus -- How did Clint Eastwood get so good? Honestly, he's probably the number one 'must see' director going right now. People forget how recently he was making crap (as an actor). What was that one where Jeff Bridges was the bad guy. Really? Jeff Bridges? But suddenly he can't make a misstep. This thing looks awesome (uh oh, high expectations). SS 5 US 9.
Leap Year -- Amy Adams is charming and fun but if this movie is as bad as it looks that's going to be two strikes (Julie & Julia being the first -- the movie wasn't that bad, just she was). She might want to get some help script reading or something. SS 3. US 2.
When In Rome -- Some actors with decent track records for being funny didn't come close to saving this trailer. Hopefully they do more for the actual movie. SS 2. US 1.
The Morgans -- Not sure about the whole title, something about the Morgans. Looks like it could be a career nadir for both Sarah Jessica Parker and Hugh Grant. Speaking of Sarah, remember her in LA Story? She looked like she was going to be a breakout star, and I guess she was, but really only because of Sex & The City (which, imo, is good in spite of her). SS 3. US 1.
Letters To Juliet -- This actually looks halfway decent, as far as movies for girls go, but it's the worst preview I've ever seen for giving away the whole damn thing. SS 1 US 5.
Remember Me -- The Twilight guy looking at least somewhat less fey, an edgy Pierce Brosnan (who can be good), and the always great Chris Cooper. Looks promising. SS 5. US 7.
Before I get to the trailers, let me tell you quickly about the two features. They were definitive proof of the 'it's best to go to a movie expecting it to be shit' theorem.
"Men Who Stare At Goats", which looked tremendously promising, was dull and self-conscious (yes, we get it, you used the word Jedi and Ewan MacGregor was in Star Wars). The highlight of the whole movie was when Rachel recognized that one of the guys was 'Ron' from 'Parks And Recreation'. Nice catch, honey! Speaking of which, that show is finding it's stride. Give it a second chance.
And tonight we went to the new installment of that "Twilight" thing, and while Edward might be the most fey hero in the history of motion pictures, the whole thing was entertaining enough. I think if I had not expected it to suck, I would have thought it did. But as I did, I didn't.
Now onto the previews. Scores are for the trailer's ability to conceal decent amounts of plot (Secret Score -- SS) and for whether it seems like the movie itself might be any good (Upside Score -- US). There's a bunch of 'em cause they're from two different trips to the cinema. I'll try to be brief.
Up In The Air -- George Clooney movies often look like they'll be great, and most of the time they end up being just kinda cute. The best ones are generally the ones where Clooney wears a suit (like 'Michael Clayton', and 'Good Night And Good Luck'). As he is frequently besuited throughout the trailer, I have high hopes. SS 5. US 8.
Avatar -- Man, that was a long trailer. Totally not my type of movie, but it does look epic. SS 3. US 6.
Extraordinary Measures -- Brendan Fraser is a Dad whose kids are sick. Harrison Ford is the eccentric genius who might have a cure. Honestly, I don't think there will be a scene in this thing you can't imagine right now if you think it through for a sec. Still, looks well-enough done, so if you're looking for tears of sadness followed by tears of joy, you're probably in luck. SS 4. US 3.
Valentine's Day -- All-star cast. One of those 'Love Actually' style things where seemingly unrelated stories have some kind of link (the girl from Story A is the guy from Story B's sister, and he dated the girl from Story C in College, and she works for the couple in Story D). This is the type of movie that's enjoyable and you like it but you never think of it for a minute before or after seeing it. And then later you meet somebody and they tell you it's their favorite movie of all time. And you are dumbfounded. You really just cannot fathom it. SS 5. US 5.
Invictus -- How did Clint Eastwood get so good? Honestly, he's probably the number one 'must see' director going right now. People forget how recently he was making crap (as an actor). What was that one where Jeff Bridges was the bad guy. Really? Jeff Bridges? But suddenly he can't make a misstep. This thing looks awesome (uh oh, high expectations). SS 5 US 9.
Leap Year -- Amy Adams is charming and fun but if this movie is as bad as it looks that's going to be two strikes (Julie & Julia being the first -- the movie wasn't that bad, just she was). She might want to get some help script reading or something. SS 3. US 2.
When In Rome -- Some actors with decent track records for being funny didn't come close to saving this trailer. Hopefully they do more for the actual movie. SS 2. US 1.
The Morgans -- Not sure about the whole title, something about the Morgans. Looks like it could be a career nadir for both Sarah Jessica Parker and Hugh Grant. Speaking of Sarah, remember her in LA Story? She looked like she was going to be a breakout star, and I guess she was, but really only because of Sex & The City (which, imo, is good in spite of her). SS 3. US 1.
Letters To Juliet -- This actually looks halfway decent, as far as movies for girls go, but it's the worst preview I've ever seen for giving away the whole damn thing. SS 1 US 5.
Remember Me -- The Twilight guy looking at least somewhat less fey, an edgy Pierce Brosnan (who can be good), and the always great Chris Cooper. Looks promising. SS 5. US 7.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
You Don't Know Swings
Isildur, the recent arrival on the highstakes poker scene (besides the fact that he's from Sweden, nobody seems to know anything about him -- not even his real name) lost 4.2 million dollars in a heads up session with Brian Hastings this evening.
Since he arrived on the scene, or more specifically since he took about $5 million off Durrrr and then redistributed it amongst other high stakes player, it's been almost impossible to follow the high stakes action. Just too much of it. The thread at 2+2 that posts HH's (amidst totally inane comments and petty bickering between posters) can have 1000 new posts within a few hours. I love that thread, but I can't give it that kind of time. So mainly now I only indulge the poker fanboy in me by checking the 'last 24 hours' results at highstakesdb once or twice a day.
http://www.highstakesdb.com/live-results.aspx
Most people who make the list tend to be up or down five figures, but the true degen's come up with some sick numbers. Today I checked it in the afternoon and Isildur was up about $1,000,000. Checked later tonight, and he's down over $3,000,000. I don't know what he's worth, but I'm fairly confident that represents a majority of it.
It's hard to understand how people who are so great at poker are still willing to put themselves in spots where a bad run of luck can wipe them out. In one fucking session! I know people will say you have to have that gamble in you to be among the greats, but that's just not true. You gotta have some gamble, of course, but you can have common sense too.
The poker internerds are predictably going nuts for Isildur. Like they think the fact he has lost all the money he took off Durrrr (and then some) somehow increases his poker greatness. What a moronic thing to think.
Since he arrived on the scene, or more specifically since he took about $5 million off Durrrr and then redistributed it amongst other high stakes player, it's been almost impossible to follow the high stakes action. Just too much of it. The thread at 2+2 that posts HH's (amidst totally inane comments and petty bickering between posters) can have 1000 new posts within a few hours. I love that thread, but I can't give it that kind of time. So mainly now I only indulge the poker fanboy in me by checking the 'last 24 hours' results at highstakesdb once or twice a day.
http://www.highstakesdb.com/live-results.aspx
Most people who make the list tend to be up or down five figures, but the true degen's come up with some sick numbers. Today I checked it in the afternoon and Isildur was up about $1,000,000. Checked later tonight, and he's down over $3,000,000. I don't know what he's worth, but I'm fairly confident that represents a majority of it.
It's hard to understand how people who are so great at poker are still willing to put themselves in spots where a bad run of luck can wipe them out. In one fucking session! I know people will say you have to have that gamble in you to be among the greats, but that's just not true. You gotta have some gamble, of course, but you can have common sense too.
The poker internerds are predictably going nuts for Isildur. Like they think the fact he has lost all the money he took off Durrrr (and then some) somehow increases his poker greatness. What a moronic thing to think.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Leonard Cohen
I listened to him all day today while grinding. Listening to him even now. Man, he's got some great songs. Like a lot of singular artists, when you're listening to him you think, 'man, this is all I want to listen to, every day, for the rest of my life'. Then after a while, suddenly, you're done, and you don't feel like listening to him for about three months.
But anyway, today I definitely felt like hearing Leonard Cohen. It's funny how his voice changed over the years. On the early records he sings just kind of plainly, I guess maybe a little earnestly, but really kinda flat (not tonally, although sometimes that too). Then he slowly shifts towards where he ends up, which is that low croak thing he does now. That voice transformation is one of many ways he's a lot like Dylan. How they both started out as fairly normal singers and moved towards something that would undeniably be considered 'worse', in an American Idol sense. Although Dylan didn't get lower-pitched, he just got more and more, uh, Dylanesque. But they both moved decidedly away from melody. Strange.
I remember watching the Juno's, must be at least fifteen years ago, with my Dad. And Leonard Cohen sang his great song "Closing Time". The vocal performance was suitably terrible. And then just moments later, he was awarded the Juno for best Male vocalist. And my Dad laughed and laughed. I mean, he really laughed. I got it, obviously. Here was this guy who had just barely croaked his way through a monotone song winning an award for being the best singer in the country. Okay, it's funny. But I love Leonard Cohen, I loved that song, I was endeared of the performance, and I was proud that he had won. I remember the Grammy's had been just a bit earlier, and Meatloaf had won the corresponding award, and while Mr. Loaf is obviously the better vocalist, I still felt kinda happy I lived in a country that would rather bestow awards on Leonard Cohen than Meatloaf (who was, by the way, excellent in Fight Club and ought to do more acting).
Leonard Cohen's had an amazing life, obviously. The accomplishments, the wealth, the adulation and respect, the famous womanizing. I mean, for a folk troubadour, he really lived the rock and roll dream. But his business manager took all his money. And his voice isn't what it was, and if he's still writing good songs nobody really knows about them. And he's gotten old. He's older than my Dad. If he doesn't have the kind of health problems my Dad has, he will soon enough (unless he dies first).
I dunno. Is this getting morbid? Listening to Leonard Cohen all day can do that to a guy. (Plus, my wife and kid are in Seattle for the day, which is a mini-downer too). Bottom line is, my Dad and Leonard Cohen are a couple of old men. I would definitely have more to talk about at coffee with Leonard (ignoring the celebrity factor, just life stuff). And it's irritating that my Dad laughed at Leonard Cohen. But if Leonard Cohen laughed at my Dad? I'd punch him in the mouth. You know, figuratively.
But anyway, today I definitely felt like hearing Leonard Cohen. It's funny how his voice changed over the years. On the early records he sings just kind of plainly, I guess maybe a little earnestly, but really kinda flat (not tonally, although sometimes that too). Then he slowly shifts towards where he ends up, which is that low croak thing he does now. That voice transformation is one of many ways he's a lot like Dylan. How they both started out as fairly normal singers and moved towards something that would undeniably be considered 'worse', in an American Idol sense. Although Dylan didn't get lower-pitched, he just got more and more, uh, Dylanesque. But they both moved decidedly away from melody. Strange.
I remember watching the Juno's, must be at least fifteen years ago, with my Dad. And Leonard Cohen sang his great song "Closing Time". The vocal performance was suitably terrible. And then just moments later, he was awarded the Juno for best Male vocalist. And my Dad laughed and laughed. I mean, he really laughed. I got it, obviously. Here was this guy who had just barely croaked his way through a monotone song winning an award for being the best singer in the country. Okay, it's funny. But I love Leonard Cohen, I loved that song, I was endeared of the performance, and I was proud that he had won. I remember the Grammy's had been just a bit earlier, and Meatloaf had won the corresponding award, and while Mr. Loaf is obviously the better vocalist, I still felt kinda happy I lived in a country that would rather bestow awards on Leonard Cohen than Meatloaf (who was, by the way, excellent in Fight Club and ought to do more acting).
Leonard Cohen's had an amazing life, obviously. The accomplishments, the wealth, the adulation and respect, the famous womanizing. I mean, for a folk troubadour, he really lived the rock and roll dream. But his business manager took all his money. And his voice isn't what it was, and if he's still writing good songs nobody really knows about them. And he's gotten old. He's older than my Dad. If he doesn't have the kind of health problems my Dad has, he will soon enough (unless he dies first).
I dunno. Is this getting morbid? Listening to Leonard Cohen all day can do that to a guy. (Plus, my wife and kid are in Seattle for the day, which is a mini-downer too). Bottom line is, my Dad and Leonard Cohen are a couple of old men. I would definitely have more to talk about at coffee with Leonard (ignoring the celebrity factor, just life stuff). And it's irritating that my Dad laughed at Leonard Cohen. But if Leonard Cohen laughed at my Dad? I'd punch him in the mouth. You know, figuratively.
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