L U N A T A L K with Eva Moon

Laughing Ladies

It’s a pretty safe bet to put you, dear blog reader, in the category of people who were not at our show Saturday night, since pretty much everybody was not at our show Saturday night. People were lining up in droves to not be at our show.

But music materialized. Drinks drunk, comestibles consumed, ladies laughed at the Laughing Ladies Cafe and we were glad to introduce our new guitarist, George Michael (not that George Michael) though it was a bittersweet gladness that we were not playing with our old guitarist, Dave Quick.

Dave had a serious stroke nearly six months ago and has a long recovery still ahead of him. We keep in touch and wish him and his seriously awesome wife, Jan, the very best. Even though Dave was not there in body, his influence on our music was present in arrangements, spirit and style. George (also known as Lyndon Heart) studied Dave’s parts to prepare for the show, though he brings his own lively style to the mix.

The show was broadcast live on Indie Spectrum Radio, in Second Life and on ustream.tv. Here is the archive of the ustream video feed, in all its static, ultracompressed glory:

The video was created using the built-in web cam on my Mac PowerBook which was plopped on a box on a table, turned on and left to its own devices for 146 minutes and 58 seconds. My dream of an Oscar for cinematography is on hold for the moment.

But the music is back and that’s reward enough.

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The Bonehead of the Opera

OK, so in the great if oddly-plotted opera Il Trovatore the gypsy woman, Azucena, attempting to avenge her mother who was burnt at the stake by the count, steals the count’s infant son intending to toss the baby on her mother’s bonfire. But, in a moment of confusion, accidentally throws her own baby on the fire instead. (Work with me here. I’m not making this up!)

Boneheaded move, you say? But even Azucena was not so boneheaded as to drive 30 minutes into Seattle before remembering that the opera tickets were still affixed to the fridge door with a New Brunswick souvenir moose magnet.

The spousal unit was remarkably restrained as I exited the freeway, swung around and headed back home where we canceled dinner reservations, grabbed the tickets and a quick bite and headed out into the night once again. Like Leonora, we arrived at the castle in the nick of time and we didn’t even have to drink poison to get in. But even so, it’s going to take a while to live this one down.

Thanks, S.B., for the terrific suggestion to bring spoons to tap along with the Anvil Chorus. I assure you the people around us found it most charming. It made a lovely accompaniment to the gentle snores of the elderly English gentleman seated to my right.

And for those of you who have not had the pleasure of seeing it, I give you:

LEGO IL TROVATORE!

Act 1

Act 2

Act 3

Act 4

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CD-O-Matic

Anyone can create an awesome CD with a few simple steps. This comes from a friend on Facebook:

1. Go to “wikipedia.” Hit “random” or click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random. The first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.
2. Go to “Random quotations” or click http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3. The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.
3. Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days” or click http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days. Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.
4. Use photoshop or similar to put it all together. (if you don’t have it, here’s an online photo editor: pixlr.com)

Voila! Your new CD!

Here’s mine:

That was so easy. Why did I waste two whole years on my last CD?

Oh wait… the music…

(photo credit: _Beat_)

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• The Bonehead of the Opera
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Live and Let Hive?

Wasps have built a rather impressive nest in the eaves near our front door. I know I ought to get rid of it. Wasps are the enemy right? But the thing is, they are keeping to themselves as far as I can tell. I walk right past it several times a day but I’ve never encountered a wasp at person-level. No one else has been accosted by them either. Honestly, I’m not a fan of stinging insects, but I want to just let them stay as long as they behave.

Am I missing something here? Will they get ornery as the summer wanes? Will they bring in their low-life cousins to squat on our property? Will their nest harm the wood? Do wasps do any good in the ecosystem? Are they pollinators, like bees? Or disease-carrying menaces like mosquitoes?

When my kids were little in Atlanta, school started up late one summer with the discovery of an enormous wasp nest built right on the glass of the second grade classroom window. It was amazing. The kids had a full cross-section inside view of the inner workings and the whole school was buzzing with excitement about it. You could see everything about wasp society in action. The classroom was in a far corner of the building away from the playground and parking lot. The teacher (and most of the kids and some of the parents) lobbied for a stay of execution. But of course the admin and legal types got involved and the nest was gone within a week.

Maybe this is a chance to atone for that past injustice.

Or maybe they’re pernicious pests that ought not to be encouraged.

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Lying Eyes

Some optical illusions you can “get” once you see what’s going on. But some are so persistent that you flat out don’t believe it no matter how many times you drag swatches around in photoshop. Like this. I came across another one. The blue and green spirals really are the same color. Really, they are. No, really.

Read about it here.

I made another version of it to prove that it REALLY IS the same color:

You know, I still don’t believe it.

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Chocolate Radio

Through a series of unlikely coincidences, my song “Tango de Cacao” is going to be featured on KOPN 89.5 FM radio in Columbia, Missouri at 7 pm Central Time, Thursday May 28. It’s a show of songs by women about food. I don’t know any more than that. Listen live here: http://www.kopn.org/listen

Here are the lyrics:

Tango de Cacao Buy the MP3
© Eva Moon

When first I saw you in the window
You caught my eye and called me in
Was it fate that drew me to you
Into this candy story of sin?

Beneath your surface smooth and dark
Lies the promise of delight
I know to have you is my doom
But even so I’m yours tonight

I give in there is no cure
I can’t resist your sweet allure
Without you I’m incomplete
Though our love is bittersweet

Let the longing fill my cup
I drink to you in steaming sips
You are my sweet forbidden love
Your candy kisses stain my lips

You are my favorite obsession
I think about you day and night
You are the singular expression
Of my helpless indiscretion
It’s a force I cannot fight

I give in, there is not cure…

Oh, waiter. Yes, you. Would you please bring me the chocolate decadence cake? And I don’t need a fork…

Let them point at us and stare
As I revel in disgrace
Let them laugh, I don’t care
I only want another taste!

I give in there is no cure…

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Patchwork

Families are pieced together in different ways, some harmonious, some in vivid contrast. Often the seams are strained to breaking, but hopefully the stitches hold fast.

I’ve been fortunate, both in my own family and in the family I married into. We may not see them often, but when we do it’s good, though with far, far, far too many tortilla chips. We were down in California last week to celebrate my mother-in-law’s 80th birthday and continue doing our part to keep America’s corn growers afloat in this troubled economy. I hope I’m half as sharp and witty when I’m 80 as she is. Happy birthday, Kathi!

Like many modern families, I don’t have just one mother-in-law, but two. We took a day to drive up the coast from Oxnard to charming San Luis Obispo to see MIL#2. In the past, we’ve mostly visited in the summer and I’ve always had a soft spot for the way coastal California looks then: rolling hillsides swathed in pale gold grass, dotted with dusty green live oaks. In March Hwy 101 weaves between rolling blue ocean and green, green and more green. The miles swept by and before we knew it we were sailing past the ever-expanding kitchiness of  Madonna Inn and off the freeway into town.

MIL#2, Barbara, is a quilter. Though that’s a little like saying Eric Clapton plays guitar. One never need worry about tripping and falling in her house - you’re sure to land on something soft. Her work is meticulous, creative, beautiful and prolific. And at 79, it’s keeping her young and as vibrant as her quilts. She’s just completed a project that’s kept her busy for years: Making wedding quilts for all her grandchildren. None of the grandkids is close to matrimony yet. But my boys got to see their quilts.

Years ago my father-in-law advised me to make plans for the future. It’s not critical to follow the plan, he said. Just having it gives a shape to the future and makes your place in it seem real and solid. That advice led to a couple of poor real estate investments, but no regrets. These quilts did the same thing. Suddenly, a vague and amorphous future had wives and homes and quilts in it. Colorful threads sew scattered pieces of family into something that will do to keep you warm. Quite nicely.

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Sea Kittens: It’s What’s for Dinner

Sea Kittens? Sea Kittens? Was this some adorable, cuddly creature I’d somehow missed? I started to get excited, but then I pawsed. I had a purrmonition something was amiss. Furtunately, I followed my instincts and hunted down the truth.

It’s a plot… I mean marketing campaign… by PETA to make fish too cute to eat. That’s right. Sea Kittens are FISH.

Is there no depth so low PETA won’t sink to it? Apparently not. In an attempt to give fish a PR makeover that would make them unpalatable as a food source, they are drowning kittens.

I have gotten this advice myself. Every time I yowl about how my YouTube videos languish in obscurity, someone suggests adding pictures of kittens. I came within a whisker of going for it but backed off because it would be cynical and manipulative. Not that I’m suggesting PETA is cynical and manipulative! No sir!

But I’m thinking of starting a competing campaign to rename fish “Sea Maggots” or “Sea Turds.” It would have the same effect, but I suppose it wouldn’t sell as many t-shirts.

Now I’ve got a hankerin’ for a steamin’ bowl o’ Sea Kitten chowder. Mmmmm!

I want to say I am not amewzed.

But I am.

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Too Hip to Crotch Walk

I suspect Overheard In New York is playing games with us. Twice in one day they tossed out the term “crotch walk.” My natural assumption was that even though I’d never heard it, if I were to ask my kids they’d roll their eyes so far back in their heads they could watch their hair grow from the inside, sigh dramatically and wag their heads at the tragedy of having such a hopelessly dinosaurific mother. Where have you been?

But ossified or not, I was curious. I mean, you can imagine what it is, right? Well, it turns out that, as least as far as the internets know, crotch walking is still slang of the future. Some snooping around turned up very little - a couple of short, incoherent videos too dim to share here and none of which agreed. Is it walking with a hip thrust on each step? Strutting while grabbing your crotch? Gingerly stepping to avoid irritating a rash? It’s not even in Urban Dictionary yet.

I came across one source suggesting it’s a law-enforcement term for a particular type of shoplifting wherein a woman in a loose skirt grips items between her thighs and walks out. Apparently this is a common way to make off with whole hams and small appliances.

So what’s the deal? Is Overheard on that much of the bleeding edge? Did they overhear new slang or are they making it up? Could I make new slang? If I casually start inserting, oh, say “choxymoron” into blog posts and conversation, will it spread? Would I want to unleash such a word on an unsuspecting world?

The danger is slim. Despite years of flogging it, renown eludes me. Even my youtube video of Light the Fucking Candles is creeping glacially towards 2,000 views after nearly two months while a grainy security video of a teenager dropping a pizza has gotten 200,000 views in a single day. I do not have the knack for popular.

In any case, this post gives me a rare opportunity to feel hip enough to crotch walk from here to the post office with a box of fresh, homemade baklava for the person who comes up with the best definition of choxymoron.

And do watch out for a woman who can sashay casually down a street with an espresso maker between her thighs.

UPDATE: My kids assure me that they heard the term at least two years ago and it’s a stupid manner of leading each step with a pelvic thrust. Some self-crotch-grabbing may be included for emphasis. The term is derisive, in their opinion.

UPDATE 2: A youth golf coach friend says she sees this walk frequently among young men who wear those super-baggy jeans. If they walked in a normal upright posture, they’d never stay up. And the winner of the box of baklava (just baked today) is: Dreah.

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Bah! Humboob!

The official holiday shopping season is upon us, such as it is this year.

This story in the Seattle PI amused me:

In hard times, nostalgic toys strike a chord

NEW YORK — Counting dollars this holiday season, Tom De Santes wants to avoid buying high-priced techno gadgets as gifts for his two sons.

Instead, he is going to buy the boys, ages 6 and 7, a classic from his own childhood: Lincoln Logs.

Read more…

Let’s be clear about this: The kids are not begging for Lincoln Logs. It’s the stressed-out, thumb-sucking grownups reaching for the comfort food. Then they try to pretend it’s morally superior. We’ll sit and build log cabins with our kids… as soon as we’re done programming the new Tivo.

There’s nothing about Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots or Cabbage Patch dolls that’s inherently superior to Transformers or Dora the Explorer. But at last - at long last - we can have all the toys we ever wanted. The Easy Bake Oven that everyone else had and we never got? It’s in the bag, baby.

Still, it could be worse.

This is the kind of misogynist crap that just makes me want to go on a crockery-smashing rampage: A boob job money jar sold as decor for a girl’s room. What fun!

“Here honey, save your money and maybe someday you can fix your poor, inadequate body.”

If you check out the site, you’ll see it’s clearly aimed at young teen and preteen girls. I hesitate to encourage you to go there since it might lead to a purchase of some other item. Don’t do it. Even if you’ve wanted a pom-pom bead curtain your whole life. Just don’t do it.

Grrrr.

A confession: My kids are grown and (mostly) out of the house. Most of their childhood toys are long gone. But I still have the bucket of Legos squirreled away.

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