This Is The Last…

By now most of you have heard that there are fires burning all over Southern California. At the end of last week it was super dry and windy. It seems like most of the fires have started in the east inland dry areas and the wind has blown the fires west. About 250,000 have been evacuated from their homes as a precaution, about 1,300 houses have been destroyed, and 1 person has died.

We’re okay, but a little bit of rain would be wonderful. The closest fires to us are Fallbrook and Escondido. Its very unlikely that the fires will reach us.

Many people have been evacuated to Qualcomm Stadium and the Del Mar Fair Grounds. Local hotels have opened their doors to people with nowhere to go. There are people that have lost everything. Its crazy.

It seems like everyone is getting plenty of notice to evacuate, they’re doing reverse 911 phone calls telling people to get ready to evacuate.

At the grocery store, people were buying up all of the water and ice. Cars were lined up around the gas station. ATM machines weren’t working, because the electricity was out. I stocked up on water and non-perishable items. It was really weird to think about where we would go and what we would do.

We always hear that we should have disaster plans. Do you have a little bit of food and water stored up? Do you have somewhere to go, if you have to leave your home?

(Image from NASA)

Sorry for no posts last week. I still love you, I was just camping at the beach.

In honor of my annual getaway, I give you 3 ocean songs…

Sunny Day Real Estate - The Ocean

Norah Jones - Ocean of Noise (Arcade Fire cover)

Bjork - Oceania

After spending 12 years with the San Diego Padres, manager Bruce Bochy signed a three year deal with rival San Fransisco Giants.

Overall Bochy spent 24 years with the Padres organization as a player, coach and manager. That’s pretty much my whole lifetime. I’ve never known any other manager than Boch. He’s like my dad. Nine-hundred fifty one career wins, four National League West titles, a World Series appearance. He coached us through the tough years and gave us our very best years as a ball club. It’s so rare that a manager will have such a history with one team such as Bruce Bochy had with the Padres.

I was shocked when I read the news that he was leaving for the Giants. The Giants!?! I hate the Giants! I don’t think I can stomach seeing him in a black SF ball cap. Was I so naïve to think that Bochy would never leave the Padres? That he was married to San Diego? My chin started to quiver and my eyeballs felt squishy with liquid. I needed consolation, but my beautiful Australian curly-headed counterpart didn’t understand my American grief and was no source of solace. So I woke up Daniel Grant, who at the time, was somewhere in Ireland, sleeping. He didn’t really care either, and only grumbled, ‘it’s dark outside’.

I didn’t feel this bad when my dad left.

I worked in Oceanside down by the beach, for two years. There was never a shortage of interesting characters. Most days were mundane and a tad dull. But one thing that would make me smile every single day was seeing Jeff the sign-twirler (?) heavy metal guy, holding his sign like a guitar, banging his head, and screaming the words to his music. He is an Oceanside treasure. He’s a hard worker - holding signs for Port of Subs, Little Caesars, the surf shop, the gas station, and works the counter of Little Caesar’s too. He’s enthusiastic - always singing/screaming the words to his songs. He’s got chutzpah.

The Reader printed a really nice interview with Jeff this week. You can check it out here.

The last thing we did at my work before we moved from that location was have a garage sale. We wanted to draw attention to our garage sale, so we tracked down Jeff (who was at the Church’s Chicken dying his hair black). We made a sign in the shape of a guitar advertising our garage sale and hired Jeff to be our sign twirler.

There’s not very many things I miss about Oceanside. Yeah, having lunch at the Hill Street Coffee House was nice, and picking up food and eating down at the beach was pretty sweet. But the thing that I miss the most is the constancy of seeing Jeff on the street corner, holding his sign like a guitar, banging his head, and screaming his heart out.

Today Jason and I took a sushi class at the Kitchen Witch in Encinitas. The class was taught by Mineko Moreno, who also wrote the book Sushi for Dummies. We own the book and I would recommend it, if you want to make sushi at home.

Mineko is adorable. She has an enthusiasm for sushi, that’s contagious. She has decades of experience in this field. Her attention to detail was amazing. She taught us every little step, that we needed to know to make good sushi and perfect rice. Her theory is that good sushi is not difficult to make; its just a series of a bunch of neatly executed, small steps.

Mineko sprinkled her lesson with insight on Japanese history, culture, and etiquette. She said in the class,”Treat the rice with respect”.

We made Pickled Daikon and Cucumber Roll, Tuna and Scallion Roll, and an Inside-Out California Roll. It was neat to see how the students went from being clumsy with the sushi with sticky rice sticking to their fingers and arms and elbows, and lumpy shaped rolls. Then by the end of the class we had decent looking sushi, like we were old pro’s.

Here’s what Mineko’s rolls looked like. Beautiful.

And then here’s mine…

I’m thinking its time for another sushi party.

Last Tuesday (March 14th) I caught the Animal Collective show at the Epicentre in San Diego. I’d never been to this venue before and even though I knew it was an all age gig I didn’t expect it to be run by the local school’s Theatre Arts Club. I guess the high school across the street should have tipped me off.

It’s not like I was standing in a schools multi-purpose room it just felt like I was. To start with there was an Angela Chase look-a-like at the door. On one side of the door was a rail which she was sitting on and on the opposite side was a table where she had her feet mounted - her legs blocking the entry. With clipboard in hand she made sure no one got in without a ticket - she was the cutest mix of a false sense of hip and snot. I wanted to just reach over and shove her face in the mud. I kept my cool though, even as she checked me for lighters and cigarettes.

Once inside I scanned the place for a bar again forgetting that I was standing in the middle of a high school cafeteria. I tell you I usually have to work at being that annoyed.

Yeah yeah I know I was acting like old balls - realizing it I relaxed and started to surrender to the rock ‘n’ roll sweet valley high I was confined to. That is until I realized Barr was the opening act - my blood boiled - if only I’d had piano wire. Still I stuck it out and am happy I did, Animal Collective delivers one hell of a show.

The first description that came to mind was that of a timid Mars Volta doing a ripe Spaceman 3 (not an insult just a point of reference). The band was so wound and jittery I could almost swear it was nerves and not all the running around making them drenched in sweat. They’re spastic sound and behavior is both contagious and hypnotic. With the exception of one awkward keyboard player who wore a flashlight on his forehead the entire night - kind of like a coal miner - it took way too many Red Bulls to wash the taste of raver out of my mouth - they were on mark.

From the start their skewed pop filled the venue like gas and before I knew it I was standing in a cave of sound. The entire show collapsed in and out of a melodic buzz that seemed to originate in my ear and go on forever. Their entire set unraveled into continuos crashes and contradictions of gorgeous noise. Not a bad thing but it did make it difficult for the audience to give their props because whenever someone did clap or holler it felt like an interruption.

By the end of the show I was as exhausted, as sweaty and as satisfied as the band appeared to be. Now that’s the stuff of happy marriages. If I smoked I would have lit one.

Today is Veteran’s Day - a national holiday. So the bank, the post office, and the schools were all closed. My boss is so cool; she let us all go home at lunchtime today.

Jason and I decided to go down to San Diego. We tried out Sushi Ota. This restaurant is in the Pacific Beach/Mission Bay area. You would never guess a sushi restaurant would be in this little strip mall, next to a laundromat, but there it was. The sushi was good, but not spectacular. It didn’t quite live up to all the great reviews, this little hole in the wall has gotten. But I’d definitely return.

We walked around Pacific Beach a little bit. We were on a mission. We’re gonna go snowboarding this winter, but we have no winter clothes. We also went downtown and walked around. We were walking on 4th Avenue, and I’m telling Jason, “Did you know the Rolling Stones are playing at Petco Park tonight?” And not more than 1 minute later, I walked right past Mick Jagger! That’s right folks. Mick Jagger in the flesh!!! He blended into the crowd. He was dressed casual in a t-shirt, shorts, and a red visor. I wouldn’t have even noticed him, except I looked him straight in the eye as I walked past him. It was definitely him.

Mick Jagger is pretty hot for an old dude.

Last night I skipped the old skool hip-hop party at Jorge and Eman’s and saw The New Pornographers at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach. They played a spectacular show and I’m really glad I decided to go, since I missed a free show in August at Lou’s Records.

They ended up playing a good number of songs from their new album, Twin Cinema, as well as songs from their previous two releases. A few of the older songs they really changed up from how they appear on the albums, which was really interesting and still very catchy. Lead singer/songwriter Carl Newman has his niece Kathryn Calder playing piano for them, as well as her own band Immaculate Machine which opened for The New Pornographers.

Immaculate Machine were a great reward for showing up early to the show. I couldn’t believe how much speed pop could come from three people playing their little Canadian hearts out. They looked like they ate about eighty rolls of Smarties before they hit the stage. Guitarist Brooke Gallupe sounds a bit like a young Jonathan Richman, and drummer Luke Kozlowski is what happens when Iggy Pop and Animal have children. They all sung such fast and catchy songs and they were so excited just to be playing music on tour. You can’t help but adore Canada’s sugary shy cuteness in this lovable bunch.