Gina Harris's Blog, page 123
June 1, 2017
Concert Review: Matt Pryor
In case it is not already obvious, there was a lot going on that Friday night, inside and outside. I believe that even after I complete the individual artist reviews tomorrow, I will need to write one more piece on Monday to wrap everything up. Because of that, there are some things that relate to Matt Pryor's performance that seem like they would go better there, pertaining more to the overall show.
There is one thing that relates to two of the other artists that I need to mention now. Both Lily Pryor and Chris Margolin mentioned having a hard time talking and tuning a guitar at the same time. At a show where no one was switching out guitars, that has a big impact on flow.
Here's the thing. Not only was Matt Pryor's flow uninterrupted by tuning, it was also only barely interrupted but the strap detaching during one song. He did not play while reattaching it - that would have required multiple arms - but he got it back on quickly and restarted with no loss of composure.
Therefore, I have to say that Matt Pryor is an amazing performer.
It's not that I haven't listened to a lot of music with him and enjoyed it. It's not that he wasn't a key part of one of the best overall concerts I have ever been to. I knew all of that, but seeing him in a different situation (a difficult situation) gives me a new appreciation. I would never wish it on anyone, but remembering how a broken guitar string disrupted a Lemonheads set, I can't help but wonder how Pryor would handle that, and think I would be impressed.
The set contained an enjoyable mix of The Get Up Kids and The New Amsterdams material with Pryor's solo work. From very low-key songs to more high energy ones, Pryor filled the intimate space with the appropriate vibes and connected with the audience.
Then again, Matt Pryor is an amazing performer.
https://www.facebook.com/mattpryorsongs/
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC0ghcz1AddaMAY6YOyBn4Dg
https://mattpryor.bandcamp.com/
https://twitter.com/mattpryorsongs
May 31, 2017
Almost made it
I really try to be consistent with my internet presence. For the blog, doing so means that I can consistently produce content, which I hope will matter to my writing, and I am usually going through something specific with the songs.
That means that when I am going on the road I think about the blog posts and the daily songs. When I was doing the Throwback Thursdays, I downloaded the Thursday picture onto my laptop before leaving. When I was dong daily selfies, I downloaded a few pictures from the hotel room, though attempts to do similar this time did not work out.
There is probably not very much that indicates how un-hip and nerdy I am as my methods, like choosing the songs and pasting them into a draft email in AOL, but no one is following me for the cutting edge technology.
I had to peak into the next chapter of emo songs, but I got them all selected and ready to go, with every day's worth of "Song of the day", the song and band name, and the link. I write out the whole thing in advance, because the copying and pasting is slow, but it gets done.
I wrote ahead multiple blog drafts, getting me through the Sunday. Some of them were short, but all six got written. That still left two days. I wasn't sure what would happen after that.
I ended up having ideas that gave me Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday I had some ideas, even if not as fully formed. But as I try to write them, I am nearly asleep and the day is almost over.
I am good at consistently producing content, but not that good apparently. At least not with the tools that I have.
There will be other days, but for now I sleep.
That means that when I am going on the road I think about the blog posts and the daily songs. When I was doing the Throwback Thursdays, I downloaded the Thursday picture onto my laptop before leaving. When I was dong daily selfies, I downloaded a few pictures from the hotel room, though attempts to do similar this time did not work out.
There is probably not very much that indicates how un-hip and nerdy I am as my methods, like choosing the songs and pasting them into a draft email in AOL, but no one is following me for the cutting edge technology.
I had to peak into the next chapter of emo songs, but I got them all selected and ready to go, with every day's worth of "Song of the day", the song and band name, and the link. I write out the whole thing in advance, because the copying and pasting is slow, but it gets done.
I wrote ahead multiple blog drafts, getting me through the Sunday. Some of them were short, but all six got written. That still left two days. I wasn't sure what would happen after that.
I ended up having ideas that gave me Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday I had some ideas, even if not as fully formed. But as I try to write them, I am nearly asleep and the day is almost over.
I am good at consistently producing content, but not that good apparently. At least not with the tools that I have.
There will be other days, but for now I sleep.
May 30, 2017
Memories at home
The trip has had a lot of nostalgia, but before we left there were different memories coming back. Many of them settled around the Friday night before, when I went to a concert. I will try and write more about the concert tomorrow.
A friend recently said to me that history doesn't repeat, but it rhymes a lot. That feels pretty true.
On the way to the show I was remembering a night not long before our last trip, four years ago. I was joining up with some friends for dinner and then hopping across town for my volunteer orientation for Stumptown Comic Fest. Because of those things - which were good - I was not there when my family first picked up Maeve from PetSmart, via the Cat Adoption Team.
Passing by similar locations (and cramming a lot into a small amount of time) was part of what felt familiar, but also I remember how Mom worried about the new cat coming while we would be gone. Through a string of small but important coincidences, there is a kitten who needs a home and will be making it with us. She does not come until after we get back this time. However, the new cat from then, our Mavis, is the one who has been acting a little brattier in our absence (hard to tell with cats sometimes) and who rubbed against the phone when it was on speaker and she heard my voice.
Of course now Stumptown no longer has a convention, but I have since given Rose City Comic Con a chance, and it will do, though I am still not up to volunteering for them.
That also reminds me that at that Stumptown I found out that year's International Comic Arts Forum would be held in Portland, starting the day after we got back. I could go to that! And I did. I missed the first day, because I was tired and they lost my luggage so I did not initially have any clothes, but there were more days. The panels were interesting, and I picked up some free books, but the most wonderful thing was talking to other people about comics.
This year's ICAF is in Seattle. It isn't quite as close, and doesn't cut the time as close, but maybe if I am a good girl and come up with a new source of income, that can be my next getaway.
One of the memories was a hard one. Last Friday was my second time at the Doug Fir Lounge. The first time was to see Frank Iero. It was a really early show (the doors opened at 4:30), which I found strange but intriguing. That was the night Mom got lost.
It was my fault, and don't think I wasn't aware of it. She had moments of disorientation before, but she was still driving to familiar places. She dropped me off at El Monica, which should have been fine, but I had a weird feeling. As I kept calling to make sure she had made it home, she kept not answering.
Why hadn't I just taken the bus?
My family was looking for her. They didn't expect me to leave the concert, but I kept jumping in case that was the phone, and I was afraid I wouldn't hear. Mainly I was just afraid. I gave up after about three songs by the opening act.
At the top of the stairs I ran into Frank. He was very nice, but I was not really there. My mind was roaming places where my mother could have ended up. I remembered that at the lounge this time, and on the way to the bus stop and at the bus stop. I remember waiting for the bus and trying not to fall apart. That may have only been possible due to some jerk on his cell phone explaining to his girlfriend that he wasn't the one fighting; he was being perfectly reasonable. And I remember on the bus finding out that she was home, and being too sapped to feel much relief. Maybe that was just guilt.
We survived. It is the least triumphant of the stories. I still have a weird curse around seeing Frank Iero play, and Mom still has dementia. We don't let her drive at all now.
But somehow, we are still here and managing. It's the battle cry of those just getting by.
Still here.
http://www.internationalcomicartsforum.org/
http://catadoptionteam.org/
http://sporkful.blogspot.it/2015/07/band-review-homeless-gospel-choir.html
A friend recently said to me that history doesn't repeat, but it rhymes a lot. That feels pretty true.
On the way to the show I was remembering a night not long before our last trip, four years ago. I was joining up with some friends for dinner and then hopping across town for my volunteer orientation for Stumptown Comic Fest. Because of those things - which were good - I was not there when my family first picked up Maeve from PetSmart, via the Cat Adoption Team.
Passing by similar locations (and cramming a lot into a small amount of time) was part of what felt familiar, but also I remember how Mom worried about the new cat coming while we would be gone. Through a string of small but important coincidences, there is a kitten who needs a home and will be making it with us. She does not come until after we get back this time. However, the new cat from then, our Mavis, is the one who has been acting a little brattier in our absence (hard to tell with cats sometimes) and who rubbed against the phone when it was on speaker and she heard my voice.
Of course now Stumptown no longer has a convention, but I have since given Rose City Comic Con a chance, and it will do, though I am still not up to volunteering for them.
That also reminds me that at that Stumptown I found out that year's International Comic Arts Forum would be held in Portland, starting the day after we got back. I could go to that! And I did. I missed the first day, because I was tired and they lost my luggage so I did not initially have any clothes, but there were more days. The panels were interesting, and I picked up some free books, but the most wonderful thing was talking to other people about comics.
This year's ICAF is in Seattle. It isn't quite as close, and doesn't cut the time as close, but maybe if I am a good girl and come up with a new source of income, that can be my next getaway.
One of the memories was a hard one. Last Friday was my second time at the Doug Fir Lounge. The first time was to see Frank Iero. It was a really early show (the doors opened at 4:30), which I found strange but intriguing. That was the night Mom got lost.
It was my fault, and don't think I wasn't aware of it. She had moments of disorientation before, but she was still driving to familiar places. She dropped me off at El Monica, which should have been fine, but I had a weird feeling. As I kept calling to make sure she had made it home, she kept not answering.
Why hadn't I just taken the bus?
My family was looking for her. They didn't expect me to leave the concert, but I kept jumping in case that was the phone, and I was afraid I wouldn't hear. Mainly I was just afraid. I gave up after about three songs by the opening act.
At the top of the stairs I ran into Frank. He was very nice, but I was not really there. My mind was roaming places where my mother could have ended up. I remembered that at the lounge this time, and on the way to the bus stop and at the bus stop. I remember waiting for the bus and trying not to fall apart. That may have only been possible due to some jerk on his cell phone explaining to his girlfriend that he wasn't the one fighting; he was being perfectly reasonable. And I remember on the bus finding out that she was home, and being too sapped to feel much relief. Maybe that was just guilt.
We survived. It is the least triumphant of the stories. I still have a weird curse around seeing Frank Iero play, and Mom still has dementia. We don't let her drive at all now.
But somehow, we are still here and managing. It's the battle cry of those just getting by.
Still here.
http://www.internationalcomicartsforum.org/
http://catadoptionteam.org/
http://sporkful.blogspot.it/2015/07/band-review-homeless-gospel-choir.html
May 29, 2017
Memories abroad
Here with my family, having lost most of a generation and knowing we are close to losing one more member, it's inevitable that there is some sadness. There is also a lot of love.
I am remembering the ones who are gone. Actually, I got a jolt on my very first day.
We went straight from the airport to the rehabilitation home to visit my aunt. As we got out of the car I heard a greeting and for a moment I thought I saw the first aunt and uncle who had died.
There was this unsettling moment of if I could have been wrong about losing them, or had we crossed over somewhere; having just spent 22 hours or so traveling, I could have been in a more impressionable state. It was only a moment and I realized they were two of my cousins. One, the daughter of my aunt, does look a lot like her. Her brother (the other) does not really look that much like our uncle, and yet there are moments when he does. My heart.
It would not surprise me too much if there is family nearby on both sides. There has been a lot of love and helping of each other all along. Since communication is primarily with those on this side, that is where I have to focus, and a lot of it is reminiscing. I feel how much we love each other now, but a lot of it is felt in memories that I have, and that we can share.
I remember that last night when we walked to the train station. It was so perfect.
I remember how before she would only eat pizza margherita.
Sometimes they remember too, but sometimes they didn't know, but now they will remember hearing it.
They are not always my memories. I tell them things my sisters remember, or things I heard from my mother.
I also give them new memories. Staying in a hotel is new, but it gives me regular internet connectivity. Every night I write to my brothers and sisters and tell them whom we saw and what we did (and what we ate). I think it makes my younger sisters miss them more, but sometimes that is the price of love.
I don't know that it bonds us, because we are already bonded, but there is a strengthening, I see these good things about you. The times I have with you are important to me.
I just wouldn't want there to be any doubt.
Related posts:
http://sporkful.blogspot.it/2013/06/amore.html
I am remembering the ones who are gone. Actually, I got a jolt on my very first day.
We went straight from the airport to the rehabilitation home to visit my aunt. As we got out of the car I heard a greeting and for a moment I thought I saw the first aunt and uncle who had died.
There was this unsettling moment of if I could have been wrong about losing them, or had we crossed over somewhere; having just spent 22 hours or so traveling, I could have been in a more impressionable state. It was only a moment and I realized they were two of my cousins. One, the daughter of my aunt, does look a lot like her. Her brother (the other) does not really look that much like our uncle, and yet there are moments when he does. My heart.
It would not surprise me too much if there is family nearby on both sides. There has been a lot of love and helping of each other all along. Since communication is primarily with those on this side, that is where I have to focus, and a lot of it is reminiscing. I feel how much we love each other now, but a lot of it is felt in memories that I have, and that we can share.
I remember that last night when we walked to the train station. It was so perfect.
I remember how before she would only eat pizza margherita.
Sometimes they remember too, but sometimes they didn't know, but now they will remember hearing it.
They are not always my memories. I tell them things my sisters remember, or things I heard from my mother.
I also give them new memories. Staying in a hotel is new, but it gives me regular internet connectivity. Every night I write to my brothers and sisters and tell them whom we saw and what we did (and what we ate). I think it makes my younger sisters miss them more, but sometimes that is the price of love.
I don't know that it bonds us, because we are already bonded, but there is a strengthening, I see these good things about you. The times I have with you are important to me.
I just wouldn't want there to be any doubt.
Related posts:
http://sporkful.blogspot.it/2013/06/amore.html
May 26, 2017
Concert Review: Chris Margolin
Chris Margolin is a Portland musician who performs both as a solo artist and as a part of various bands. Although one band, the Dead Bird Collection, will be releasing new music soon, I saw him by himself, and can only evaluate in that way.
If Lily Pryor's voice reminded me of a bell, Chris Margolin's reminded me of wood, warm and rich.
That could have been suggested by the environment, as the Doug Fir Lounge is decorated in a very woodsy way, but that was my impression nonetheless. One of the most impressive things was how he and his voice filled the space.
He will be playing the Doug Fir Lounge again with his current project, the Dead Bird collective, on September 8th, and that should be a good opportunity to check him out.
https://www.facebook.com/chrismargolinmusic/
https://chrismargolin.bandcamp.com/
https://twitter.com/MargolinMusic
May 25, 2017
Concert Review: Lily Pryor
Lily Pryor is the daughter of Matt Pryor, and touring with him for school credit. (#lilypryor)
Her voice is clear like a bell, singing with an age-appropriate sweetness. Between numbers you could see some nervousness as she prepared for each next song, but the delivery of the songs was consistently well-done, performing a mix of original material and covers.
I am not sure how the grading works - whether you do reports on geography or business or psychology - but vocally she should be safe for an A.
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCHfACZZ-SE9VMWYX_GRYymw
https://twitter.com/lilypryorsongs?lang=en
May 24, 2017
They're sorry
One thing I have always been very good at is drawing unwanted attention. Somehow I seem approachable, even though I always have books to read and thoughts to think. Then I remember that this is a human being, and give them my attention, even though my initial response was a more curdled humanity.
That is generally what gets me ashamed, is finding that this is a good and often beaten down person, and they should be meeting far more kindness in the world than they are.
The thing I noticed most recently is how apologetic they tend to be. In my most recent encounter, she kept prefacing each question with a mumbled "I'm sorry." The averted eyes and downcast head were already a hint that she did not expect to be valued.
There are three specific people that I am thinking of. They were all times when I had meant to be reading, but then they were kind and often interesting people. Spiritually they are my siblings. Maybe there are ways we could help each other.
It goes along with the other things that we have been posting this week. We are not valuing people enough. It's worse if you are old and poor, even if you have served your country and your health still suffers from it, or you have worked all of your life, or you have tried really hard to be a good person and stand up for fairness.
I think of it for them, because in those moments on Tri-Met I have seen their worth and cared about them, but I also think about my mother. Is it obvious how fiercely protective I am of her? But I can't protect her from everything. It would be good to believe there were fewer threats.
And I think about it for me. I am on track to be old and alone. This current state of being childless and also without nieces and nephews is likely to continue. I will continue to age, and remaining poor seems more probable than not. Will my goodness matter then? Will there be respect for my age? I don't know; I just want to see a kinder world.
That being said, you are lucky if you get to talk to me. I both speak and listen well. Pure delight.
That is generally what gets me ashamed, is finding that this is a good and often beaten down person, and they should be meeting far more kindness in the world than they are.
The thing I noticed most recently is how apologetic they tend to be. In my most recent encounter, she kept prefacing each question with a mumbled "I'm sorry." The averted eyes and downcast head were already a hint that she did not expect to be valued.
There are three specific people that I am thinking of. They were all times when I had meant to be reading, but then they were kind and often interesting people. Spiritually they are my siblings. Maybe there are ways we could help each other.
It goes along with the other things that we have been posting this week. We are not valuing people enough. It's worse if you are old and poor, even if you have served your country and your health still suffers from it, or you have worked all of your life, or you have tried really hard to be a good person and stand up for fairness.
I think of it for them, because in those moments on Tri-Met I have seen their worth and cared about them, but I also think about my mother. Is it obvious how fiercely protective I am of her? But I can't protect her from everything. It would be good to believe there were fewer threats.
And I think about it for me. I am on track to be old and alone. This current state of being childless and also without nieces and nephews is likely to continue. I will continue to age, and remaining poor seems more probable than not. Will my goodness matter then? Will there be respect for my age? I don't know; I just want to see a kinder world.
That being said, you are lucky if you get to talk to me. I both speak and listen well. Pure delight.
May 23, 2017
Out in the open
Building on yesterday's post, there are trends in society that bother me, and that we should reverse.
is possible that if I am worried about abusive TSA agents or trouble in customs that it was stupid of me to post about it. The probability of drawing attention is low, but it does still exist. It might make sense to hold my breath and wait, but I am not that kind of smart. If I am thinking something, it's not really that I blurt it (usually), but I will keep thinking it and churning it over until it comes out.
I am sick of separate groups. I have been added to so many lately.
It's not that I don't see the point. I have made a few connections that I really like through some of them, and I have learned some interesting stories. There can be value in connecting. After I left the one Mormon liberal group because they were racist, I was still getting frustrated with the other one because they were so Sanders-blind. That made the pro-Hillary group for Mormons a breath of fresh air.
(I do worry a little about mentioning them at all, but there are so many others that I don't think I am actually revealing anything.)
That is one of the problems. The points of agreement may not be unifying enough. Like with one group just focused on good government (also Mormon), one admin admonished someone for commenting "spoiled jerks" on an article about Trump, because we are not partisan so there shouldn't be any name-calling. While that particular epithet was pretty mild, if it had been directed at a poster I would have agreed. If we can't admit that Trump is spoiled and a jerk at the very least, I'm not sure how effectively you are going to be able to advocate for good government.
They aren't all related to my religion. Some are local, and because of people I know. In all cases I get why they do it. They post the things they feel and they get rain of abuse and stupidity that makes them want to curl up in a ball or delete the internet (or both). The group serves a purpose for them.
But for me, I get online and I see 9 notifications, which I check carefully because I don't want to miss an interaction. I check, and none of them are interactions; just people posting. Then I turn off notifications, and then I might as well not be in the group because I see nothing.
If I needed the outlet, it would matter more to me, but I do say what I want. Granted, that has meant standing up to a lot of insults and researching and digging my teeth and feet in like the most tenacious bulldog ever. That was not fun. It seemed to work, because most people seem to have given up arguing with me, but then perhaps I have created an even more isolating echo chamber than those in the secret groups.
(And so many of the group members are related to their persecutors that they may not find it practical to go into bulldog mode with them.)
I don't worry about that as much as I could, because the truth is I use Twitter a lot more, which I find much better for information and even for connecting in some ways.
Twitter works for me, but a lot of people aren't on it. For them to arrange Facebook in a way that is somewhat gratifying and comforting makes sense, except this shouldn't be necessary.
They should be able to say the things they feel without other people rushing in to tell them how stupid and wrong and un-American they are. Why do we think it's okay to stamp out any dissenting opinions? Why do we think it's okay to make others afraid to speak? Doesn't that sound un-American?
It's just one more thing we get wrong.
Related posts:http://sporkful.blogspot.com/2016/06/borders-and-boundaries.html
is possible that if I am worried about abusive TSA agents or trouble in customs that it was stupid of me to post about it. The probability of drawing attention is low, but it does still exist. It might make sense to hold my breath and wait, but I am not that kind of smart. If I am thinking something, it's not really that I blurt it (usually), but I will keep thinking it and churning it over until it comes out.
I am sick of separate groups. I have been added to so many lately.
It's not that I don't see the point. I have made a few connections that I really like through some of them, and I have learned some interesting stories. There can be value in connecting. After I left the one Mormon liberal group because they were racist, I was still getting frustrated with the other one because they were so Sanders-blind. That made the pro-Hillary group for Mormons a breath of fresh air.
(I do worry a little about mentioning them at all, but there are so many others that I don't think I am actually revealing anything.)
That is one of the problems. The points of agreement may not be unifying enough. Like with one group just focused on good government (also Mormon), one admin admonished someone for commenting "spoiled jerks" on an article about Trump, because we are not partisan so there shouldn't be any name-calling. While that particular epithet was pretty mild, if it had been directed at a poster I would have agreed. If we can't admit that Trump is spoiled and a jerk at the very least, I'm not sure how effectively you are going to be able to advocate for good government.
They aren't all related to my religion. Some are local, and because of people I know. In all cases I get why they do it. They post the things they feel and they get rain of abuse and stupidity that makes them want to curl up in a ball or delete the internet (or both). The group serves a purpose for them.
But for me, I get online and I see 9 notifications, which I check carefully because I don't want to miss an interaction. I check, and none of them are interactions; just people posting. Then I turn off notifications, and then I might as well not be in the group because I see nothing.
If I needed the outlet, it would matter more to me, but I do say what I want. Granted, that has meant standing up to a lot of insults and researching and digging my teeth and feet in like the most tenacious bulldog ever. That was not fun. It seemed to work, because most people seem to have given up arguing with me, but then perhaps I have created an even more isolating echo chamber than those in the secret groups.
(And so many of the group members are related to their persecutors that they may not find it practical to go into bulldog mode with them.)
I don't worry about that as much as I could, because the truth is I use Twitter a lot more, which I find much better for information and even for connecting in some ways.
Twitter works for me, but a lot of people aren't on it. For them to arrange Facebook in a way that is somewhat gratifying and comforting makes sense, except this shouldn't be necessary.
They should be able to say the things they feel without other people rushing in to tell them how stupid and wrong and un-American they are. Why do we think it's okay to stamp out any dissenting opinions? Why do we think it's okay to make others afraid to speak? Doesn't that sound un-American?
It's just one more thing we get wrong.
Related posts:http://sporkful.blogspot.com/2016/06/borders-and-boundaries.html
May 22, 2017
Worried about this trip, part 2
The first part of my worries were specific to our family and health situation, but it is worse because of the world.
I am not thrilled that pat-downs are getting more invasive or that it seems like TSA agents might be getting more abusive:
https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articl...
https://www.rt.com/usa/387885-homelan...
Questions about passwords don't seem great either:
https://www.theatlantic.com/technolog...
Of course the laptop ban does look at what country you are coming from (which doesn't make it better), so would be unlikely to affect us, but you know, airlines tell you not to check small electronics and that they won't replace them if they are lost or damaged. It's a horrible policy.
http://www.cnn.com/2017/05/16/opinion...
However, it may be easier to get to the root of my concerns by looking at the things that have been happening on the planes, after the TSA.
http://liveandletsfly.boardingarea.co...
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/dr-gridlock/wp/2017/03/26/two-girls-barred-from-united-flight-for-wearing-leggings/?utm_term=.f572668722da http://www.cnn.com/2017/04/10/travel/...
The most interesting discussions were about the United incident, so let's go there.
First of all, overbooked is the wrong word for that. They needed space for employees that needed to get to another city, but that is not the same as having sold too many tickets. One interesting discussion point was that there is a good chance that the airline does not have enough employees to cover a few call ins. That's certainly possible, knowing how everyone is trying to cut costs.
That leads to the other thing. Rather than random selections, they were picking the passengers who'd paid the least. When they selected Dr. Dao, they already had three people, but they chose someone traveling with his wife, bumping two people. They went with someone who had considered volunteering, but because it would delay him overnight (keeping him from scheduled appointments with his patients), chose not to. Those both seem like good reasons to leave him alone, but he had paid less for his ticket.
I always search for lower fares. I have to. We can't afford to travel if I don't do that. Is it weird that I think if they are willing to sell me the ticket at that price that I should be able to go? It no longer gets me a meal or a free checked bag, but still, it should give me that trip. I guess in a world where the rich have a private lounge and cameras for gloating at the less fortunate, there is no more logical line of division:
https://www.theguardian.com/world/201...
There are two other interesting things about that. One is that the airline should have been able to arrange ground transportation for the crew, or offered limos to the bumped passengers. That wouldn't be a possibility with all routes, but in this case it was doable.
The other things is that even though the airline was clearly out of line - probably due to poor planning - it is the doctor who had his past dragged over. None of that affected his actions or the airline's actions, but there always has to be a reason why the abuser is allowed to abuse. Too many of our patterns involve upholding the already powerful.
So I worry about navigating this. Worrying about making connections in an unfamiliar airport with my mother's bad knees is not new. Worrying about her getting a little disoriented because of the dementia is newer, but still something that I have dealt with and can. Worrying that someone will judge her for her accent, or that someone in a low level authority position will be abusive because they are underpaid and overworked and the only thing that satisfies them is making someone else suffer, that is new.
So I have added the phone numbers for both senators, our representative, and the ACLU into my phone. I probably won't have to use them, but I wish I didn't have to worry about it.
Don't we all have enough worries already?
May 19, 2017
Band Review: The Slants
As I wrap up my first attempt at commemorating Asian Pacific American Heritage month, I realize that I have been doing it wrong, locating musicians from Asia but not Asian-American musicians. (Except for Lampano Alley, they have all been Japanese.)
That is something to think about for next year. One difficulty is that there aren't a lot of Asian-American bands. In fact, today's band, The Slants, are commonly considered to be the first and only all-Asian American dance-rock band. At least I am getting them in today.
It was always going to happen, sooner or later. They are a Portland band, and have been on my radar since the Oregonian ran an article about their difficulties in trademarking their name. The case was resolved in early 2015, and I think the article I read happened just prior to final arguments. I can't find it now, but here is an interesting short video on the topic:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_yNnmsrLkc
Of course I would want to check them out. Subverting the language of the oppressor is a thing that I often see the value of, and would like to defend, but I don't have good words for expressing it because I have never had to do it. They put it in a song! They have a song about their court case and it is fantastic!
I admit I was expecting them to be more punk, based on the case alone. They are more dance-rock. There are times when they remind me of Depeche Mode, but there are also echoes of that time when Interpol was big and The Killers put out Hot Fuss. You may especially notice this on the enticing "Love Within My Sins".
A great introduction to the band would be their 2017 EP, The Band Who Must Not Be Named.
It starts out with "From the Heart". That's the song about the court case and I love it - not just for the message but also musically. The third track is my second favorite, "Endlessly Falling".
"Level Up" is a nice tribute to their fandom. The Slants are popular with cosplayers and convention goers and geeks. (This also comes up in some videos.) "Fight Back" could be an anthem for any of the put upon, including geeks, but the keyboards kind of give some video game shout-outs as well.
Finally, "Sutures" is deeply personal and thoughtful. The acoustic version here (it has been performed with Dez Cadena of Black Flag, so that's another way of doing it) shows another side of the band.
I think after going through the EP, there is good reason to continue checking out other music, and find additional treats there. They are very much worth checking out.
http://www.theslants.com/
https://www.facebook.com/theslants
https://www.youtube.com/user/SlantsVideos
https://twitter.com/theslants
