FileMaker Failed to Save the Wrong Version of this Entry About Jesse Sprinkle and Burning Daylight [hooray!]

OK, this one's specifically dedicated to John Lam. Whenever we talk about JayceLand, he frequently comments that I don't blog "properly" — often posting an entry for — say today — on next Wednesday. So this one's for you, John: it's 2:59 a.m. and after the event about which I'm about to blog. …

So I went to Monty's KrownMySpace link (875 Monroe Ave.) earlier. I arrived in time to catch just a song-and-a-half of Jesse SprinkleMySpace link. I liked what I heard, but don't feel confident opining further due to insufficient experience. Next was Burning DaylightGarageBand link who are really swell. Jesse plays drums in this band — and I met lead-singer/guitarist Nick and bassist Tim afterward. I generally stand by my database-stored comment from December 21, 2006 at the Bug Jar: "unremarkable bar-rock except when they get more punk-rock". [No offense, guys: let me qualify …]

I had a great time. I considered heading to The Bug JarMySpace link (219 Monroe Ave.) for the metal and metal-like show featuring (among others) SulacoMySpace link (featuring some friends of mine) but instead, I opted to get a pint or two (or three) at Monty's KrownMySpace link (875 Monroe Ave.) instead and enjoy some, well, bar-rock. Burning DaylightGarageBand link does a fine job with a mix of [mostly] originals and [some] covers in a bar-rock/punk-rock style. I mean, what more can I say? Have you been at a bar where some band was playing and had a drink or two, and noted, "hey, these guys are pretty good."? It's that kind of personal experience that really doesn't carry over well to radio-play or other popular, substantive fame. It's just … well … nice. With notably-sexceptional exceptions like "Black Soul, Black Heart", it's not the kind of thing you're going to get nagging in your head. But that one song can keep you coming back.

Heck, maybe it's whatever it was that Ali and her friend were so impressed that the band played for them. Or maybe it's just that Tim's this kind of faux-Canadian [in the "gosh, aren't those Canadian folks polite and kind" kind of way] Buffalo … umm … resident. Or that I owe Nick, Tim, and Jesse a drink [and $1.33 more each] for giving me their CD (Jesse 2x for supplying his personal-favorite own CD in addition).

In conclusion, thanks: you guys gave me a great time (even despite that poor dude who got carried away by ambulance for whatever reason … at least it wasn't body-bag). So when you're at your regularly-paying day-jobs, know that I thought your time was worth its while. Sure, your songs aren't on 'BER regularly [or are they?: I'm so irritated by the Guisto-inspired BOCES-training-esque 'play what the people want' kind of crap that I barely listen anymore].

But whatever: play live and there's someone there who'll love it.

The Afternoon Before Christmas

Since Christmas is on a Thursday, like in 2003, I'm sure you're all expecting some kind of JayceLand twist on 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, but I'm taking the holiday off.  So my computer is dark — not even a blink from the optical mouse.  [Be glad I'm not going to write any more!]

Anyway, have a great day on Christmas if you're doing anything, and if not, just enjoy the relative quiet and absence of nutjobs racing here and there on the roads like on a typical weekday.

Doing the Mistletoe Mingle

Ali, Christina, and I decided to do the Mistletoe Mingle pub crawl. As it turned out, it wasn't associated with Michael Warren Thomas at all — it was part of The Business Association of the South Wedge Area (BASWA) under the Savor Our Flavor moniker. We started at Little Venice Pizza (742 South Ave., formerly Skippy's) so Christina could get some food in her stomach before drinking; Ali and I had already eaten. From there we started at the north end at The South Wedge Colony Bar and Grill (503 South Ave., formerly Dashen Restaurant) I still have very lukewarm feelings about the place — it just seems so much like a poor imitation of an East Avenue bar; and as such, it wouldn't get better by being a better imitation. We got our first playing card there for the poker contest.

Next we went to Solera Wine BarMySpace link (647 South Ave.) and picked up another card and had a decent glass of wine that was on-special for the crawl. At Lux LoungeMySpace link (666 South Ave.) we figured out the card-marking scheme and devised a way to cheat — the goal was to have the best 5-card poker hand at the last of seven bars. The Beale Street Cafe (689 South Ave.) offered welcome relief as they set up their back restaurant room for the pub crawl and we got a chance to sit down and warm up for a bit. But it was short-lived as we headed for The Tap and Mallet (381 Gregory St.) a half-hour later. Although The Keg (315 Gregory St., behind German House where Rohrbach's used to be) set me up with a half-shot "shot" drink special, at least the band was amusing and there were holiday cookies and stuff.

Caverly's Pub (741 South Ave., formerly Genesee Co-op Credit Union) was our last stop and we paced our drinks well by skipping a few along the way. It turned out our cheating scheme was for naught — Ali had an honest full house which was better than we could have cheated together. Alas, someone else pulled out 5 aces that went unchecked, card-marking-wise. The way I figure it, the odds of getting 5 or more aces from 7 decks is about 399,672:1 against so, although possible, I kind of doubt it was done honestly. Regardless, we had quite a good time.

Ali's Birthday Dinner at Scotch 'N Sirloin

For Ali's birthday dinner (albeit the day prior), we went to Scotch 'N Sirloin (3450 Winton Pl., #25 in Winton Plaza). Although I'd seen it many times [it's been around for 36 years, far longer than I've lived in Rochester], I never gave it a passing thought to, well, try it.

It turned out, it's really quite good — on par with other local stalwarts like Pomodoro Grill and Wine Bar (1290 University Ave.) As evident by their name, steak is what it's about, and they do a heck of a job of it. My top sirloin was extremely satisfying — and thankfully modest-sized. Ali's filet mignon was also very good, and she added the crab legs which were already cut open (to her dismay).

Overall it's rather expensive and worth it.

Bird Show, Sun Circle, and Autumn in Halifax at the Bug Jar

I headed out to The Bug JarMySpace link (219 Monroe Ave.) a second time [and a late update to the JayceLand page, in case you wondered if you missed it the first time]. First up was Bird Show which consisted of one guy playing synth-sourced, digitally-altered, experimental, anti-melodic, anti-tempo music. It was a lot like interesting ambient — only not mellow. Next was Sun CircleMySpace link who did a trippy meditative set — in one song, for instance, they harmonized reed instruments with a rolling synth tone and burned incense; it was actually a lot better than you might expect.

Finishing up was Autumn In HalifaxMySpace link — joined by "leaves" Joe Tunis and R. Scott OliverMySpace link. Although I loved Dave's solo work when he first started playing as Halifax, I've come to really enjoy the new line-up, especially now that it's more mature. The lush poetry of Dave's lyrics works just as well now as it did before, only now it's set against a more traditional three-piece band.

Lobster Quadrille, Township, and Auld Lang Syne at the Bug Jar

I guess it's been a while since I wrote any reports of performances, much less one where I see a band. I still get out — although less often than I used to — and tonight was one of those cases. I went to The Bug JarMySpace link (219 Monroe Ave.) and got there a bit early so I had a chance to catch up with the folks in The Lobster QuadrilleMySpace link. As it turns out, they were up first — there was some confusion about who was when, as it was Auld Lang SyneMySpace link's show (so they got top billing) and TownshipMySpace link came in from Boston.

Anyhow, The Lobster QuadrilleMySpace link did a great set. I found myself particularly mesmerized by Love is Cold. I've mentioned it hundreds of times [okay, for each of the last 29 of their shows I posted], but they do a great rendition of satirical gospel with all of 6 [or is it 7?] people on stage performing. Lead singer Solomon commented afterward that he felt the set was a bit melancholic feeling; although I think that "melancholic" suits them quite well.

Next up was TownshipMySpace link who I really enjoyed as well. They do a crisp, fresh version of classic rock. I even bought their CD which I've been enjoying as well. Finishing up was Auld Lang SyneMySpace link who I've now finally had the chance to hear. The night was getting a bit long for me, but I stayed enough to find they played a great heavy-hitting proto-rock that I'll likely seek out in future shows.

Wintry Mix and Spin

Ali and I headed to The Blue Horizon Restaurant (1174 Brooks Ave.) for breakfast. The place is definitely an ideal diner. Anyway, this morning it snowed a little — maybe an inch or so — and we didn't think it was a big deal, so we decided to drive out to check out gas fireplaces. Ali mentioned a place on Hudson [which I think is Fireplace Fashions (1936 Hudson Ave.)] and we also wanted to head out to Pettis Pools; the waitress helped us out and found the address in the phone book and we decided to try and find Pettis Pools and Patio (1186 Manitou Rd., Hilton) first.

We headed out on 390 and noted that we were at the Blue Horizon when the big car crash happened that closed it back in February of this year. I was driving the Roadmaster and when we got to the turn onto 490 West, I slowed way down, expecting that there might be ice as it was exactly 32°F outside. The turn was pretty clear, though … until I went to accelerate onto 490. The big wagon started fish-tailing but I managed to reel it back in and avoid either spinning out or hitting anyone else. The highway was pretty much wet with a slushy mix, but there was something wrong: there were dozens of cars spun out and off the road.

The mystery was solved on the first bridge we came to as the wagon fish-tailed a bit again. Since it was straight road and only for 50 yards or so, it wasn't hard to keep things under control.  We forged ahead, but saw more and more cars spun out. Apparently every single bridge was covered in solid ice, albeit giving the illusion that it was just more wet slush. We decided to give up our quest and get off at the next exit, but there was one more surprise.

A Honda Pilot started to go out of control in front of us on the next overpass.  It swerved left then swung right and ended up skidding sideways down the road and slamming into the right guardrail, coming to rest right in our lane.  Ali wanted me to stop, but I was on the icy bridge and was just barely touching the brakes until we cleared the overpass and I braked hard, stopping in time to avoid T-boning the poor guy.  The driver of the Pilot got it out of the way and I decided to just run over the piece of plastic bumper laying in the road.  Unfortunately it was dragging under the car.  Fortunately we ran it over when I got onto the shoulder and we got the hell out of there.

We were passed by a car going far too fast and then likewise by a charter bus (which was also half into our lane, the prick).  The exit to Rt. 386 was next and I couldn't bear to watch the bus careen across that overpass — and, naturally, also couldn't avoid watching.  However, they successfully slowed down for the cars that had already spun out.  The trip home was much slower and safer — amusingly taking us right past the Blue Horizon once again.

Watching The Exiles with Ali at the Dryden

Ali and I went to the Dryden Theater at George Eastman House (900 East Ave.) to see The Exiles. The description given in the Eastman House calendar was tantalizing, as the film has almost never been screened for 50 years, and it documents Native Americans living in Los Angeles in the 1960's. Sprinkle in phrases like, "seamlessly mixes documentary and narrative techniques" and "deeply emotional and personal achievement", and I'm sold.

Our reaction to the film, however, was one of grand disappointment. It's an arduous film to watch full of interchangeably unlikeable, apathetic characters. In addition, the dialog was dubbed in the studio and loses all of its emotional expression in the process — in fact, according to the program notes authored by K. A. Westphal, the entire soundtrack was meticulously recreated long after shooting was completed [definitely read it for some unbelievable trivia]. In total, though, the film completely neglects the audience and instead slowly stews in its own world.

As such, the film is considered a masterpiece — in part because it deliberately rejects a serviceable narrative, and simply documents the lives of people who are essentially unremarkable jerks. As other reviewers noted, this undesirability of the characters seems to work against the cause of helping Native Americans. However, I took away the point that it was far too late — even in the 1960's — for the Native American cause. The people depicted on screen are the walking dead of a lost civilization. They drift from heartbeat to heartbeat, resigned to a purposeless fate: their entire culture having been wiped from the earth in what amounts to a mass genocide.

So in a way, I agree that it is a masterpiece. It spoke of the situation of recently-displaced Native Americans (who have been generationally displaced to boot) and what happens when you do that to someone. However, it's akin to experiencing the beauty of a sword by having someone slice your arm open with it. You can appreciate the workmanship and detail, but its true function is to cut and to kill, so what better way to truly immerse yourself in its beauty than by taking part in its primary function? The amoral, artistic side of me understands that that would be the pinnacle of sword examination, but the rest of me, well, doesn't really want to get cut.

And so, with my mighty blog and website and stuff, I set forth a demand to appeal to the audience. [And by that, I mean that I know that there are some Eastman House employees who will read this, and might consider bringing it up at a programming meeting, if the mood suits them.] My friends and I have had this kind of experience many times before: when a film is considered "great" or "important" for reasons other than how well it is appreciated by the average audience, but is noted for being altogether brilliant in its cinematic quality. I, personally, tend to enjoy these films too, but I need to be mentally prepared for them, and when I'm unprepared and end up getting blindsided, I find myself alienating the Dryden. I seek other avenues for entertainment … at least for a while. And I always end up coming back, and hopefully sooner than later.

I propose, therefore, that the Dryden begin offering "audience appreciation" films. This is different from "popcorn movies" which offer purely an experience of entertainment; rather a delineation of cinematic masterpieces that overlaps the "popcorn" genre. It's movies where the filmmakers consider the audience to be the most important part of the process.

Understandably, it's a difficult aspect to divine — after all, The Exiles had the audience at the forefront of its production as much as any other movie, and perhaps even more for respecting their knowledge and wisdom. Consider how different it is from Encounters At the End of the World, though: it's as if the audience is a cherished friend invited to explore something new and fascinating rather than colleagues already insatiably interested in the topic at hand.

Put simply, there's a difference between "cinematically important" and "enjoyable".

Frownland at the Dryden

I headed out to the Dryden Theater at George Eastman House (900 East Ave.) to see Frownland. I was reluctant (and, in fact, Ali passed on it entirely) because we had both seen The Pawnbroker the night before. The Pawnbroker, while a powerful movie about the lifetime of suffering the Holocaust caused, it fell a little flat as I had already explored those issues; so in other words, if I had seen the movie at an earlier time in my life, I would have been blown away, but now it was just an exercise in excellent movie-making. The Eastman House calendar seemed to imply that Frownland would be similar to The Pawnbroker — largely because the central characters in each movie is at best unlikeable, and at worst, intolerable.

I was glad to be pleasantly surprised. While I guess it's not incorrect to describe Frownland's central character, Keith as a "chain-smoking, stammering, excessively needy, terribly annoying, yet fascinating nobody," I gravitated toward the more concise description that he's the personification of insecurity. He's cripplingly so, in fact, yet not through any definable mental illness — while he'd most certainly benefit from some form of psychological therapy, he appears to be only circumstantially dysfunctional. What I mean is that he would probably be able to function if it weren't for his antagonistically unsympathetic roommate, his door-to-door job, or the simple fact of being so unavoidably exposed to people by living in New York City.

Filmmaker Ronald Bronstein was there to discuss his film. He's a remarkably articulate guy — particularly when it comes to his understanding of his own work on this particular movie. He was drawing from his own insecure times in New York, and from the insidious nature of insecurity. He gave the analogy to hunger: that hunger's solution — eating — is not blocked by being hungry, whereas insecurity's solution — self-confidence — is blocked by insecurity: you're unable to develop meaningful relationships with others and ultimately it's only through innovative lateral thinking that you can build self-confidence.

So in a way, it's kind of a horror movie: a man trapped in an insecure mental state and who seems to be permanently so. Curiously, Bronstein worked on Frownland for 6 years whenever he was able to afford more film, and he found it challenging to keep touch with the very idea of this constant state of insecurity.

Back to a "Full" Run

Since I got diagnosed with plantar fasciitis (damaged tendons on the bottom of the foot) last month, I've been taking it easy on running (and yes, still barefoot). I've added the calf-muscle stretches and have been building up my runs — both in duration and in frequency. When I was first diagnosed, I was running about a mile once a week. I've since built that up to twice a week, and today I went out for my "normal" run of about 2 miles.
My bad foot hurt a bit, but it didn't flare up as it had originally. It's a bit sore, but in that stretching/healing kind of way rather than the damaging/tearing kind of way. So far so good … hopefully I'll be back to 3 times a week before the snow flies

Oh yeah, and I had to go back and edit this because I forgot the reason I thought to post an entry in the first place: that I find it so amusing that I make a wake in the air, causing the leaves to rustle behind me as I run past.