A Twitter of Echoes

by Stepto
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So tonight we had a bit of drama where we live. Our subdivision is a small set of about 40 houses up top of Big Rock Ridge in our farming community of Duvall in Washington state.  Tonight we had some type of domestic disturbance that involved a potentially armed disturbed 40 something year old male, a manhunt, a lot of panic, and a resolution that at least means no one in our area was hurt.

What flipped me out was the sheer number of direct Twitter messages I got asking if me and Rochto were ok.  I only have like 1800 (TRULY AWESOME) twitter followers but to have 50+ messages of people asking me if everything was ok with us just reminded me of how awesome Twitter is, and really, how good tools on the Internet enable a real sense of community.  We’re fine, and honestly it was just a few hours of nervousness spent upstairs with the alarm on and looking out the window.  We’re privileged in so many ways, our alarm, police force, etc.

Our situation pales in comparison to Darfur, Iraq, etc.  Tonight, a couple of white people were momentarily spooked.

But I can’t help wondering if that level of interest in interconnected lives isn’t the future of curing the larger horrible situations, from the law enforcement angle to the individual looking out the window, to the spreading genocide angle.  Food for thought I suppose.  I get twitter updates all the time on things I can’t impact at all.  But what If we all had the ability to tell everyone who needed to know or could do something, the circumstances.

How long before a tweet says, legitimately, “They’re killing us, please help” Isn’t this the entire point?

An Important Safety Message from Stepto.com

by Stepto
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Living out in a close knit farming community that is now 30% Microsoft employees, we have our own email alias for community events.  Recently there was a spectacular high speed wreck on one of the back roads near the residential communities.  There were no fatalities, and the local Fire Department quote was “No one was hurt.  Drunks bounce.”

This reminded me of something and I sent the following response:

As an aside, I can somewhat verify the "drunks bounce" comment. (not through personal experience!)

In college I wrote a paper comparing injury/survival rates in DUI/DWI accidents.  The survival/non-injury rate for the drunk driver was over three times that of the victims.  Anecdotally, EMT people often surmised that weirdly, a lot of drunks wear their seatbelts (perhaps in some feeble attempt to try and be safe or perhaps to avoid a pull over due to lack of) and sober people in these situations (which usually occur at night) don’t.  Secondarily, drunks are oblivious to situational reaction times and tend to be relaxed and pliant with the physical forces against them in an accident, reducing impact and stress injuries. 

By no means should this be considered scientific since my sample set was tiny (5 years worth of data in one large county in Texas) but when I read the "Drunks bounce" comment it took me back to those EMT interviews.  They all said more or less the same thing.  I dearly wish the stats were reversed.

Oh and even if you’re popping out the store just for milk at night, please wear your seatbelt.

So re: that last bit, be careful out there. :>

Operation Poetry: Striation

by Stepto
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A principle focus of any college student is, at some point, alcohol. Hence: Striation

Palmers is the bar.
Jason holds court
traversing burgundy to whiskey
Rick samples the menu
If you’ve never smoked it’s hard to hold a cigarette

Sweat’s a tell tale
a bar?  A real bar?
My thoughts race to beer, easy
But they’re 21 and I’m 18 and
order a grasshopper, thinking suave, it’s a drink right

Enjoy your toothpaste, Jason says.

You tend to meet your biggest influences in college.  For me it was my friends Jason and Rick, and later my friends Steve and Mark. But my first trip to a real bar where I was going to actually fake enough sophistication to order a drink was Palmers.  Jason and Rick, having been there many times and being of legal age, ordered with what I saw as flair. I was still trying to pick up smoking and my illegal drinking was confined to beer, which was easy to get and understand.  Now the world’s menu of drinks was at my fingertips.

I did indeed, order a grasshopper. Jason indeed, bid me enjoy my toothpaste.

Avalon’ing Rubberbands at the Stars

by Stepto
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It’s weird how we don’t always get to choose the music we’ve actually heard the most in our lives sometimes.  And I’m not talking about the soundtrack to Neil Diamond’s version of The Jazz Singer that your mom listened to over and over again when you were a kid just having to endure the car ride to school and back. Ok maybe that one’s just me.

I’m more talking about songs or albums during a time period in your life that you might have been subjected to daily, even hourly, and how most of the music we’ve heard most in our lives might not even be our favorite.

When I was 15, I began working in the restaurant business. I learned pretty quickly that out up front with the customers you were at the mercy of the ambient music.  Cooking on the line you got to more or less have a say in what you heard, but my job was split between the two, cooking and wait staff. Keep in mind this was before cable music or satellite music.  Most places would pop in a CD and have it go all.  shift.  long. (all night long, all night)*

My stepfather Ted used this ability as a way to both listen to his favorite music as well as a way to introduce people to great tunes.  In his place you could come across Bruce Springsteen, Glen Tilbrook solo, maybe a Poco album. For a while there, his secret weapon was the Paul McCartney unplugged CD he had.  Did I mention this was an old style red brick Italian restaurant? So he had to ninja all this in between Dean Martin, Sinatra, and the 8 billion versions of “Mona Lisa” it seemed like there were.  (there’s really just the one, but like waterboarding, the torture was new every time). After the last customer was served and closing time was underway, it was time to step back for whatever new disc had hit Ted’s hands. Maybe some Mick Jagger solo, or Jimmy Buffett, or Guy Clark. It’s no wonder that since Amore closed last, the other restaurants staff would hang out there for a drink once they were done at their own spots.

The most hours I spent working were at The Cisco Grill, which was a Southwestern type restaurant analogous to a Chili’s I suppose. There are two albums I have probably heard more waking hours of my life than anything I could ever choose to have listened to due to the fact they made excellent ambient music for the younger clientele of the place.  (To be clear, I’m not complaining.  In fact for a lot of reasons I’m grateful for these two albums.  They made a lot of tough work shifts a lot easier.)

The two albums are “Shooting Rubber Bands at the Stars” by Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians, and “Avalon” by Roxy Music. The former, because the restaurants I was working at were local to the band and I actually waited on them a few times.  The latter, well I have no idea other than it was good ambient for a restaurant, but I still love it. There were other albums in rotation for sure, but I tended to tune them out.

These two albums are actually outstanding in so many ways.  (You may hate these two albums with the white hot intensity of a thousand Pat Benatars.  That’s not exactly the point of this post but if you feel the need to tell me how much they actually suck I look forward to your blog entry on the subject.) But imagine you’re stuck bussing tables, seating people, refilling ice tea, doing random cleaning jobs during your shift, but you get to become familiar with a couple of albums like that.  To this day I hear tracks off of them and think about the fact I probably heard each album twice a day, 6 days a week, for a year.

I think of all the horrible albums I might have had stuck in my head (I’m *still* looking at you, Jazz Singer) and am grateful that those two are in there.

 

*Congrats my Lionel Richie friends, let’s dance on the ceiling till we’re easy like Sunday morning.**

**Welcome fifth element fans who only know that line from Chris Tucker singing it in the movie.  Actually.  If that’s the only way you know it, you’re not welcome.***

***Welcome those of you who didn’t get my last two comments and downloaded and/or googled some Lionel Richie.  You’re once, twice, three times a lady my friends.

Avalon’ing Rubberbands at the Stars

by Stepto
No Comments

It’s weird how we don’t always get to choose the music we’ve actually heard the most in our lives sometimes.  And I’m not talking about the soundtrack to Neil Diamond’s version of The Jazz Singer that your mom listened to over and over again when you were a kid just having to endure the car ride to school and back. Ok maybe that one’s just me.

I’m more talking about songs or albums during a time period in your life that you might have been subjected to daily, even hourly, and how most of the music we’ve heard most in our lives might not even be our favorite.

When I was 15, I began working in the restaurant business. I learned pretty quickly that out up front with the customers you were at the mercy of the ambient music.  Cooking on the line you got to more or less have a say in what you heard, but my job was split between the two, cooking and wait staff. Keep in mind this was before cable music or satellite music.  Most places would pop in a CD and have it go all.  shift.  long. (all night long, all night)*

My stepfather Ted used this ability as a way to both listen to his favorite music as well as a way to introduce people to great tunes.  In his place you could come across Bruce Springsteen, Glen Tilbrook solo, maybe a Poco album. For a while there, his secret weapon was the Paul McCartney unplugged CD he had.  Did I mention this was an old style red brick Italian restaurant? So he had to ninja all this in between Dean Martin, Sinatra, and the 8 billion versions of “Mona Lisa” it seemed like there were.  (there’s really just the one, but like waterboarding, the torture was new every time). After the last customer was served and closing time was underway, it was time to step back for whatever new disc had hit Ted’s hands. Maybe some Mick Jagger solo, or Jimmy Buffett, or Guy Clark. It’s no wonder that since Amore closed last, the other restaurants staff would hang out there for a drink once they were done at their own spots.

The most hours I spent working were at The Cisco Grill, which was a Southwestern type restaurant analogous to a Chili’s I suppose. There are two albums I have probably heard more waking hours of my life than anything I could ever choose to have listened to due to the fact they made excellent ambient music for the younger clientele of the place.  (To be clear, I’m not complaining.  In fact for a lot of reasons I’m grateful for these two albums.  They made a lot of tough work shifts a lot easier.)

The two albums are “Shooting Rubber Bands at the Stars” by Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians, and “Avalon” by Roxy Music. The former, because the restaurants I was working at were local to the band and I actually waited on them a few times.  The latter, well I have no idea other than it was good ambient for a restaurant, but I still love it. There were other albums in rotation for sure, but I tended to tune them out.

These two albums are actually outstanding in so many ways.  (You may hate these two albums with the white hot intensity of a thousand Pat Benatars.  That’s not exactly the point of this post but if you feel the need to tell me how much they actually suck I look forward to your blog entry on the subject.) But imagine you’re stuck bussing tables, seating people, refilling ice tea, doing random cleaning jobs during your shift, but you get to become familiar with a couple of albums like that.  To this day I hear tracks off of them and think about the fact I probably heard each album twice a day, 6 days a week, for a year.

I think of all the horrible albums I might have had stuck in my head (I’m *still* looking at you, Jazz Singer) and am grateful that those two are in there.

 

*Congrats my Lionel Richie friends, let’s dance on the ceiling till we’re easy like Sunday morning.**

**Welcome fifth element fans who only know that line from Chris Tucker singing it in the movie.  Actually.  If that’s the only way you know it, you’re not welcome.***

***Welcome those of you who didn’t get my last two comments and downloaded and/or googled some Lionel Richie.  You’re once, twice, three times a lady my friends.