Drinking With Strangers

"If you've listened to FM radio any time in the last 15 years, you've probably heard a Butch Walker song -- though you probably didn't know it at the time. In 'Drinking With Strangers,' Walker recounts his days of being a Hair Metal nobody who became a Rock Star nobody who became a songwriter and producer working with Pink, Katy Perry, Tommy Lee, and some band named Weezer. Told with all of the candor, wit, and humor one would expect from one of the Greatest American Musicians No One Has Heard Of -- this memoir is the story of playing by your own rules and winning."

This was the brief little review I wrote to help sell some copies of this book at the book store where I work. And it's about as unbiased and un-hyperbolic I can get when talking about Butch Walker -- the dude's music has meant more to me over the years than I could ever attempt to describe. I discovered the Marvelous 3's breakthrough, Hey! Album, at a time when nearly every song was like a page out of my own life; and if one of the songs didn't speak to me at the time, it soon would. From then, I've followed his career pretty closely, and the man has yet to disappoint.
And it was much the same with this book. Though a lot of the Marvelous 3 and post-M3 stuff I knew about, it was nice to get to fill in all of the details. And it was nice to read about Walker's early days in hair metal band Southgang, as well as his transitional group Floyd's Funk Revival/the Floyds. (There isn't much out there from either of these bands other than some highly-marked-up shit on Ebay.)

I don't read much non-fiction -- and I especially don't read memoirs -- so I can't judge this book on the merits of such. But I can say, if you're a fan of the guy's music, you'll dig this book. If you don't know anything of Butch Walker, I'd still say give this one a shot. If nothing else, it will be a charming bedside read.


THINGS I LEARNED WHILE READING DRINKING WITH STRANGERS

~~ Butch is cousins with the former vocalist of Savatage/Trans Siberian Orchestra

~~ Rivers Cuomo was once in a hair metal band named Zoom, whose gimmick was wearing nothing but bath towels and roller skates

~~ Walker's hair metal band Southgang was one of two bands originally signed to an upstart Charisma Records. The other was a band named Jellyfish

~~ During his early days of becoming an in-demand record producer, Butch passed on the opportunity to produce the debut of an up-and-coming band named Creed



~~ Drinking with Strangers -- Butch Walker
~~ It's So Easy, and Other Lies -- Duff McKagen
~~ Things the Grandchildren Should Know -- Mark Oliver Everett
~~ Goodnight Jim Bob -- Jim Bob
~~ See a Little Light -- Bob Mould

Yukio Mishima

Were it possible, I would give anything I possibly could to sit down with Mishima and discuss art and culture and life. While I can respect a lot of his political stances, he was a bit too militaristic for me to ever want to broach that subject with him.

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I recently finished Confessions of a Mask -- Mishima's debut novel about a gay man trying to come to terms with his desires, as well as the sense of displacement and false identity when trying to interact with the outside world of "normality."
A book hasn't had quite the same effect on me as Confessions... since I read Edmund White's The Beautiful Room is Empty for the first time in college. Though, thinking about that now -- I wonder who I would have become had these experiences been reversed and I had discovered Mishima before White, and during a time when I was in much the same headspace, going through a lot of the same emotions, as the unnamed character/narratoe in Mishima's novel. (Oddly enough, the main character/narrator in White's novel also goes unnamed.)

catching up on life

Thursday:

After work, met up with Mike and Michael for a trip to Arts on Alberta's Last Thursday celebration. It's been a while since I'd taken part in it all -- in the few years since, it's nearly reached critical mass. It's still fun and enjoyable, but it's starting to get that New Orleans Mardi Gras vibe: to some people, it's more about saying you went rather than taking part. But, regardless, there was a lady selling lemonade in 10+ different flavors, yummy pulled pork, a robot costume with a fully-functioning Atari in its belly, a cow-suit on rollerblades, delicious eye candy, and some thing called "art"...whatever that means.

From there, we headed over to the Hollywood Theatre for Ink.

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Friday:

Started dogsitting the two puppies in SE. It's been going a lot smoother than anticipated, which is nice. Plus, the apartment has A/C and a PS3, which is nicer. But rather than trying out Metal Gear Solid 4 or something more capable of pushing the PS3's limits, I've been locked onto Lego Batman. I tried picking up Uncharted, but threw my hands up during the first full-throttle run-n-gun.

Had dinner with Jay, then he and I met up with Vadim, Kevin, Mike, and Michael at the Hollywood for a screening of The Wiz.





An overlong, bloated fabulous mess of a film filled with costume designs that have inspired generations of drag queens, as well as incohesive set designs and locations. Each different piece or scene feels like it's cut from a different film. But, it was fun...even if I was distracted throughout by Michael Jackson's unnecessary prosthetic double chin.

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Saturday:

Attended my first sitting with the Graphic Novel Book Club in the morning.
We were supposed to discuss B.P.R.D., vol 1, but since the group consensus was "M'eh..." we didn't discuss it for very long. We did talk about other books though, and a few other random things. And I found out that I wasn't the only fan of the Josie & the Pussycats movie.
It seems like a nice, fun group and I'll definitely be going back for next month's meeting.

After that, I spent the majority of the day with the doggies and playing more Lego Batman.

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Sunday:

Started back to my work week.

Had a wonderful lunch with the wonderful Stephen who came down for a brief weekend stint.
And afterwards, I spent a bit of [Portland Bookstore]'s dime walking around the store and discussing/recommending books with him.

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And that's all I got.
I start my beginner's Photoshop class on Thursday.

And I'll probably play some more Lego Batman.

well, read

B.P.R.D.: Hollow Earth
This coming Saturday morning, I'm attending my first graphic novel reading group (read "book club") meeting; Hollow Earth is the book for discussion this time 'round.
Not knowing much about the Hellboy universe (in which this is set -- centering around Abe Sapian, Liz Sherman, Johann Krauss, and Roger the Homunculus) beyond that set forth with the movie adaptations, I occasionally felt that I was missing things throughout the main story arc. But, all in all, it was enjoyable and a quick read. I don't know if I'll return to the series after this book, but it could happen.





The Bradleys -- Peter Bagge

A collection of Bagge's 1980s work in Neat Stuff that introduced the Bradley family, from which he would supplant eldest child Buddy into 1990s Seattle for Bagge's seminal comic Hate. If nothing else, Bagge's work serves as a wonderful time capsule for each of his respective eras.





City Boy -- Edmund White
This one doesn't hit stores until September, but I just finished an advance proof of the book. And as usual, White knocks one out of the ballpark. Labelled a "memoir," White's latest focuses least of all on White himself, instead placing the spotlight(s) on the number of celebrities and personalities that White knew while living in NYC during the 1960s and 70s. John Ashbery, James Merrill, Christopher Isherwood, Vladimir Nabokov, Thom Gunn, Susan Sontag, and many, many others -- White offers wonderful insight and shares wonderful anecdotes about all of them.





Our Man in Havana -- Graham Greene
Yet another read for yet another book club (my therapist wants me to get out and meet some more/new people, so this is my attempt) -- this one focusing more on "classic" literature.
This is my first time reading Greene, and so far so good. He reminds me a lot of Waugh. And I like Waugh a lot. A whole lot.

currently reading

JLA: Justice For All -- Grant Morrison, et al
Always gotta have some superhero stuff.



Clarissa, or the History of a Young Lady -- Samuel Richardson
My Summer epic; though, this one will probably stretch through Autumn and on into Winter.



House of Mirth -- Edith Wharton
A nice follow-up to reading Mrs Dalloway

The Show That Smells

The most shocking story ever shown on the silver screen!

It's also the tale of Jimmie—a country music singer dying of tuberculosis—and Carrie, his wife, who tries to save him by selling her soul to a devil who designs haute couture clothing! Elsa is a powerful Parisian dress designer, and a vampire. She wants to make Carrie look beautiful, smell beautiful—and then she wants to eat her! Will Carrie survive as her slave? Will Jimmie be cured? Starring a host of Hollywood's brightest stars, including Coco Chanel, Lon Chaney, and The Carter Family. The Show that Smells is a thrilling tale of hillbillies, high fashion, and horror!


The latest Derek McCormack novel crossed my path today. I'm excited to read it. McCormack has always been an interesting read -- whether for his plots, or for his extremely minimalist writing style. Even though the new novel sounds like a rehash of The Haunted Hillbilly -- an earlier McCormack novel about a male vampire tailor who falls in obsessive love with Hank Williams, Sr. -- I'll still devour it. Probably this weekend.

buying the flowers myself

I'm finishing up my 8th Annual Mrs Dalloway Reading, and I still find myself falling madly in love with Richard Dalloway and feeling my heart torn out when Septimus throws himself out the window.

Pieces for the Left Hand

A student's suicide note is not what it seems. A high-school football rivalry turns absurd-and deadly. A much-loved cat seems to have been a different animal all along. A pair of identical twins aren't identical at all - or even related. A man finds his own yellowed birth announcement inside a bureau bought at auction. Set in a small American town, told in a conversational style, Pieces for the Left Hand is a stream of a hundred anecdotes, none much longer than a page. At once funny, bizarre, familiar and disturbing, these deceptively straightforward tales nevertheless shock and amaze through uncanny coincidence, tragic misunderstanding, strange occurrence, or sudden insight. Unposted letters, unexpected visitors, false memories - in Pieces for the Left Hand, these are the things that decide our fate. Wry and deadpan, powerful and philosophical, these addictive little fables reveal the everyday world as a strange and eerle place.


This is one of the most beautiful books I've read in a long time.
You should read it too.