Four Things. Part I

Well, since I've been tagged by Miss Ladie, I reckon I have to rise to the challenge of my four things. My list is more extensive, since I've been sick and this was a pleasant way to while away an afternoon. I'll update more on the political situation here in KTM, but briefly, it's the same old story out here in Bouddha.

Without further ado, comrades, and I promise not to be brief, My Four Things, Part 1.

4 Jobs I've Had

1) Retail slave at Whole Earth Provision Company. One of the true slacker jobs in Austin. Probably my favorite job, although I doubt I could do it again because I despise waiting on people.

2) Dishwasher at several pizza restaurants. I like washing dishes, if it paid more, I might consider it for a career. You can get a lot of thinking done, you don’t have to talk to anyone, and it’s soothing (see Skinny Legs and All by Tom Robbins for further info).

3) Telemarketer for FedEx and other much less savory businesses that I refuse to reveal. My one truly shameful job. Getting fired from three other jobs doesn’t come close to comparing to the continuing shame I have about this one.

4) Selling meat out of the back of a truck door to door. Oh wait, that’s Shawn, my erstwhile and hopefully future roommate. Whassup, Shawndawg? Damn, I have nothing that can compare to that. I was a janitor at a movie theater for a number of years, starting when I was 15. I believe this explains my extreme reluctance to attend movies in situ. You try cleaning up after a showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

4 Places I’ve Lived
1) Austin TX. You know I’ll always care for you, baby, but I had to move on. We had some good times, the best, and I’ll always remember those cool spring afternoons where we napped with all the doors and windows open in the house, the weekly gigs with my grunge band where I screamed my guts out, that March day where the grass in Zilker Park was pounded into overlapping circles by the hammer of God, and that 78704 lifestyle (ignore this).
Damn, I still love you girl.

2) Lowest Greenville, Dallas TX. Best neighborhood I’ve ever lived in, despite the tree falling on our apartment when a squall line of thunderstorms moved through. It was so noisy that I didn’t realize it ‘til the next morning when I went outside. Walking distance to everything you’d need, Whole Foods, ethnic grocery stores, the best Thai restaurant in the US, a coffee shop, and bookstores. Too bad Dallas is bighaircorporateplasticsurgeryevilland.

3) Somerville MA. Ugh. Maybe if I had lived closer to Davis Square I wouldn’t be the bitter broken man I’m today. Really, what the hell is up with the real estate prices here? Lacks the culture(s) and restaurants of New York, the natural beauty and enforced culture shock of the Bay Area, and finally, it has the crappiest weather in the world, so what’s the appeal?!? I remain baffled.

4) Kathmandu. Kat-daddy-mandu. The ‘Du. My newest love, despite her winter air with particulate claws in it, an extremely septic environment, and a slow shamble to failed state status. You’re my slattern and tattered goddess, befouled by overpopulation from war refugees from the countryside and a consumer society that noticeably increases before my very eyes. You’re the disheveled siren that’s called me since my early 20s, and now we’re finally together despite pressure cooker bombs, bandhas, frequent gastrointestinal distress, and cabbies that make me want to kill.

4 Favorite Dishes

1) The Greek Noodle Bowl (stupid name, but tasty linguini, pesto, cherry tomatoes, feta cheese, kalamata olives, and scallions) at Mars Restaurant and Bar in Austin.

2) Chicken gumbo. I came to this late, I hated gumbo as a kid after a bad duck gumbo experience involving sinew and gristle. Environment will tell though, since I don’t have that coonass blood. Coonass is sometimes derogatory slang for Cajun that's been re-appropriated by my peoples, y’all. Viva la race, chère! (but you gotta say it that Caju way /shah/).

3) Pad Thai. I could mainline this everyday. Why I’m not doing my research in Thailand or Laos baffles the hell outta me. My one true academic career mistake. Always pick a research area with excellent cuisine (sorry Tibetans, y’all don’t qualify through no fault of your own). Actually, let me amend this to Thai green papaya salad, Som Tam. Mmmm shrimp paste, chili, vinegar, grated green papaya, and hopefully fresh seafood.

4) Tex-Mex food. Our one true contribution to the world (ok, maybe also Bob Wills. who will always be King). I could eat this everyday, twice a day. I’d have to say migas at Kerby Lane Cafe would be the one dish I’d pick. Soft black bean tacos from there run a close second, although cheap greasy breakfast tacos from that joint on Airport Drive are the ultimate hangover food. Vitamin G, y’all. I loathe Boston for the lack of good dependable Tex-Mex food.

4 Current CDs in Rotation

Lemme check my new Sandisk Sansa 2 GB mp3 player. Being a lapsed Catholic boy, I have deliberate catholic tastes. Heavy rotation of aggro boy rock(Jesus Lizard for example) is usually on here cuz that’s what I work out to, but I’ve mellowed recently in my music selection due to infectious obstreperous throat that just won’t go away.

1) MIA - Arular. A critical fave. Check out pitchforkmeda.com for the saliva-laden accolades. A refugee Sri Lankan women in London whose dad was some sorta Tamil(?) rebel in Sri Lanka, hooks up with the hot DJ Diplo who’s mining baile funk from favelas in Brazil for beats, to form a winning combination. The post-post-colonial hiphop, with a hybrid shoutout to my Homi Bhabha.

2) Bark Psychosis - Hex. Early languid post-rock. 1994 was a productive year for these lads. Radiohead should pay them royalities for parts of their early albums. How did a xylophone become de rigueur for this kind of music?

3) The Decemberists - Her Majesty, The Decemberists. This one always makes me smile, but I can only take it in small doses, usually half the album at a time. “Your Red Right Ankle” is a brilliant example of wistful boy rock™. A jollier Smiths with a pirate fetish.

4) Antoine Forqueray - Pieces de viole - Suite I et II - Jordi Savall. I’ve become obsessed with viola da gamba music. French Baroque, and you know what they say, if it ain’t Baroque, don’t fix it. Nothing matches the warmth and approximates the range of the human voice like a viola da gamba. Jordi Savall, along with Paolo Pandolfo, are the modern masters. Paolo, I could kiss your stubbly Italian mug for your revisioning of Bach’s Cello Suites.