New Gig In Carbondale

We're heading back up to Carbondale this weekend again.  I'm going to have to take some Dramamine before we go up those mountain passes again because I thought I would die the whole way up.

Getting Hip To Social Media

I'm trying to get hip with the social media websites and geez, it's really slow going.  I'm on number 5 of 193 sites of register for.  Phew...it'll be a while.
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Midnight Specials

The Finns have several dvds from the 1970's musical variety show, Burt Sugarman's Midnight Special.  It's the best music in pop culture from that era, hands down.  It came on right after the Johnny Carson show and had all sorts of performances by Curtis Mayfield, Gladys Knight, John Denver, The Bee Gees, and so-on-and-so-forth.  I've been watching a couple each night before I go to bed for "research" purposes--you know, camera angles, theatrical skills, and good lord, the costumes!  I've got a running list of musicians that I think integrate music, performance skills, and wardrobe to the best degree.  I'll post a couple of them in the near future but for the time being, I'll leave you with my favorite Midnight Special thus far...

Stress Test

About a year ago my mom handed me Julie and Julia with a quick, "I thought this might help you, you know, figure a couple things out about your life."  In much the same way she handed me Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert when I went home this past week.

It's no secret that I want to get married.  And more specifically I want to marry Conner.  So when mom handed me Committed it was her way of saying, "Baby, I thought this might help you figure a couple things out about you know, your future life."  The book is both about a woman coming to grips with getting married a second time--even when the first totally bit her in the ass--as well as a history lesson about western-style marriage.

Through that book I learned about the Holmes-Rahe stress scale.  Two psychiatrists back in the 70's surveyed 5,000 patients and came up with a list of stresses and attributed a point value to each event.  If a patient scores 300 or more than whoa buddy, you're at serious risk for illness.
1. Death of a spouse=100
2. Divorce=73
3. Imprisonment= 63
7. Marriage= 50
10. Retirement= 45
12. Pregnancy= 40
41. Vacation= 13
42. Christmas= 12
43. Minor violation of law= 11

How interesting is that?  The three of us would probably rank pretty high on that scale at the moment but hey, maybe we get a little deduction for encountering all this stress on account of something we all love.
The full list can be found on Wikipedia.
Photograph via Green Wedding Shoes

Missed Connections

New York based artist, Sophie Blackall, creates art inspired by the Missed Connections on craigslist. Love her work.

Environmental Effects

When I got back from NC I felt like my stomach was trying to claw it's way out of my abdomen.  It was so painful.  I think my mother said it best with, "Everytime I go to New Mexico I don't know which end of me to stick on the toilet."  What we're talking about is elevation sickness and man, it's awful.  I just laid around all day, drank a ton of water, swallowed some Tylenol, and debated on which of me to stick on the toilet.  When one of the guys at the shop found out I wasn't feeling so hot he said, "Oh, I was wondering why you weren't so bouncy today."

Now that I feel fine I was thinking, and it might sound silly, but I was wondering if people in really humid areas get any of their required hydration by way of just breathing in; does the water in the air get soaked up in their lungs?  Here in southern Colorado it hasn't rained in months and the humidity level is at 5%.  It's so terribly dry and I don't care what anyone says about the addictive qualities of chapstick because here I need it multiple times a day and still my lips crack. 

Ahhhhh!! Just look at her!

Getting Close

Weeks upon weeks have already been spent sanding this car by hand and then coming back to the Finn house covered in this blue dust, blowing out blue buggers, and shaking blue dandruff out of my hair.

Each night I end up looking like this.  I have now begun to grab the same leggings and t-shirt to yank on in the morning and have stopped using my girlie perfume and now opt to slather on Dan's blue Old Spice deodorant instead.  If the rest of me is blue, my armpits might as well be blue too.

But check out Ms. Mahoney now.........

 All sanded up

Conner and Josh mixing the primer.

To result in more hand sanding.

But then she's finally getting close to being road worthy!  Hell yeah!

Pappa Denny Finn is making us a wooden headliner!  It'll be amazing when he's done.  He's already made one for a wee little Morris he restored several years ago.  I'm kinda dying to see it but it's up in storage and I have yet to lay eyes on it.  Oh and one more photo of the car geeks out there.

The engine...

Playing in Aspen!

Conner has teamed up with Tyller Gummersall and Ally to play a couple gigs up in Aspen this weekend.  We leave tomorrow to caravan on up.  If anyone's in the area please do come out and join in on groupie parade.

Thoughts On Flying

There was a time when my divorced parents began earning more capital than ever before.  This was also around the time that they became exhausted of driving me back and forth across the state to see my father once a month.  So they sent 8 year old me on a plane from Asheville to Raleigh with an "Unaccompanied Minor" badge around my neck and off I went to visit my dad for the weekend.  Up in the air, in between both towns was the best, was the best as I belonged to no one and it was just me and the clouds.  There was added bonus of peanuts, ginger ale, and pretty ladies asking what adventures I had planned for the summer that made flying an absolute pleasure.

Now that 911 happened, it's not that much fun at all.  In fact, most people seem to just go ahead and furrow their brows as they pass through the security gates ready for delayed flights, noisy babies, and peanuts for which you now have to pay.  But the people watching is still excellent, and there is still the exciting prospect of new glossy magazines, and if you have the money you can grab a burger and a beer while you wait for your flight which has already been delayed three times. 

The number one thing that inevitably goes through my head when I fly is of a Wired magazine cover I saw several years ago.  It showed a very dashing photo of Brad Pitt wearing a BlueTooth earpiece with the headline, “If Brad Pitt can’t make this look sexy then who can?”  (It's in the small print.)  As I watch all the paunch-bellied businessmen clutching their briefcase and rushing to their gate, while seemingly talking to themselves with their earpieces, I really want to show them this magazine cover.  Sometimes people just never grow out of their awkward phase.

Stupid Avis

Oh man, the journey back to Arboles, CO was miserable.  It was like a small comedy of errors.  First with the missed flight and to end with my first experience with renting a car.  The cheapest flight we could find arrived in Albuquerque, which according to Google Maps was 4.5 hours away.  I felt really bad making the boys drive 9 hours just to come fetch me so I rented a car.  I had gone on Priceline and reserved the cheapest car for a total of $35 which seemed preposterous to everyone else in the house because usually their way more expensive.  Anyway, long story short, I hate renting cars.

I got hoodwinked!  I showed the agent my reservation and then he upgraded me without my knowledge, convinced me to prepay for gas, and then made highly disapproving faces when I declined all insurance.  When I returned the car in Durango the other agent pointed out the upgrade.  All of the Avis customer service people suck.  Both people I talked to simply said I should have known it was a bigger car before I left the lot.  Ugh!  Yeah, I should of but never having rented a car before I didn't know what to keep an eye out for.  And word to this wise--avoid the pre-paid gas tank.  Even if you only use a 1/2 tank they still charge you for it.  Not worth it.  Stupid Avis....avoid Avis I say!

Here ends my diatribe.

Making It Back

Today's the day!  The day I actually catch a plane back to Colorado. 

Mom came in asking me to check the status my flight yesterday.  I looked it up and with nasty Crest Whitestrips all in my mouth and asked her, "Wait. What does that say?  Can you read that date?" 
"It says 6/15-June 15th'
"Yeah, and what date is it today?!"
Which is the exact moment that I knew I had royally messed up and that the amount of teasing I would be soon getting from my family would probably be worse than plopping down more money for a new ticket.

I called Priceline.  I called United Air.  I called Priceline again, all the while trying to sound as pitiful as humanly possible.  But no, no such luck with the pity department because I had "Named My Own Price" for a ticket, it was non-negotiable if I fucked something up.  My parents are moving to New Mexico next Tuesday and we talked about me hitching a ride in their U-Haul caravan...this is driving across the country with a Dalmatian, a parrot, and two adults who "passionately discuss" (ie. argue) about everything under the sun.  I was all for it since it would probably be the cheapest option, I love my parents, and I figured I might as well get used to being in a car.  But my step-father was super sweet and got me a new one-way ticket back to Colorado...going home always turns me back into the spacey teenager I once was.

Thanks Mom and Ely for taking care of me...
Gordon Osmundson Photograph

Today I'm An Idiot

I'm an idiot and I missed my flight back to Colorado.  I thought I was flying back today, Thursday, but nope, my flight was Tuesday and I just didn't realize it.  I called Priceline, where I had booked my name-your-own price ticket, and they wouldn't budge from their no-refund policy and United Air wouldn't help fix my blunder either.  So today I'm an idiot.

Christina Shaffell

I wanted to give a little shout-out to our friend Christina Shaffell, the awesome lady to did our official project webpage.  A photographer and graphic designer, Christina and I have worked on several projects together--mainly Don't Bring Me Down: A Hypothetical Band and Finery.  Urban Outfitters recently started selling some of her photography online, how cool is that?!
Thank you so much Christina!!!!
She's amazing and totally available for hire...

Seeing What You Want To See And Hearing What You Want To Hear

I've been stocking up on my girlie movie time while I've been back at home.  Mom has all these girl-fest flms like Pride and Predjudice, Vicky Christina Barcelona, Tristan and Isolde, and An Education.   After watching so many films with Conner and Dan like Joe Dirt, Dumb and Dumber, and Old School, my girl marathon is a welcome break.  I've also shaved my legs, plucked my eye brows, and whited my teeth while I've been home.  Girl time yay!

I must confess however, that some girlie films I refuse to finish watching.  It's mainly Romeo and Juliette type films that I just don't like to finish--Tristan and Isolde, supposedly the original R and J story, is included in this.  I like to watch it while romance is still in the air, while there's passion and happiness, while things are still good but I hate watching while it all goes down the toilet.  It's much too depressing, so I stop watching. 

So while I say that I watched Tristan and Isolde, that's only a half truth because when treachery became the main theme instead of hidden love, I shut the TV down and went to bed.
Image via The Portland Mercury

She Graduated!

She did it! Little sister Molly graduated from high school with Honors! She'll be off to UNC Chapel Hill in the fall. So proud of her!!!

It's bizarre to think that it's been 10 years since I've been in high school myself.  So, so weird.

Varying Flora and Attitudes

It's interesting to be back in North Carolina after spending some time in the high desert of southern Colorado.  The juxtaposition of flora, fauna, and society in both areas makes me look forward to traveling the rest of US and seeing how different the terrain and the people all are; from the northern farmland of upstate New York to the muggy swamps of Louisiana, I'm excited.

Luckily I didn't have to spend the night in the Charlotte airport last week because my mom and little sister came to rescue me late at night.  Sleepless night averted.  I was whisked right back into the Zaslow family life again in Asheville and their passionately fussy dispositions.  Maybe the southern climate nurtures fiery temperaments because my family is always having some "passionate discussion" about the effects of whop-sided population growth and cognitive evolution on humanity as a whole or the state of my brother's life choices.  I think the fact that 3 out of 6 people in the household have done debate of some sort helps fuel the discussion fires.

 Photo by Rachel Letcher

There have been numerous NC summer thunderstorms pouring from the sky in mid-afternoon and the mountains are so green and luscious.  The trees are gi-nawmous and the kudzu's blanketed everything in these big green vines.  It's like a northeastern rain forest up in these hills.  Where as Colorado is so dry and the trees don't seem to get much higher that a one story building, at least not in the southeast where we're staying.  The blues, greens, and browns look much more vivid to me which makes photographing the landscape around Arboles much more exciting.

People of North Carolina get up in your face and ask many more questions about your life in general than people of Colorado, who will listen to whatever you want to reveal about yourself but who don't want to ask too many questions for fearing of prying into your personal life.  NC people also appear to have no problem telling you that they don't whole heartily approve of what your doing...
An example of an exchange:
"Oh yeah, we're going on a road trip and live out of our car for a year."
pause..."Well now, why ever would you do something like that?  What if someone tries to break in when you all are sleeping in the back?  Doesn't that seem dangerous to you?"

 Photo Via Swimming Holes.org

Arid and reserved in Colorado.
Lush and fussy in North Carolina.

Haha, I love my roots.

North Carolina-did some research

After I wrote the Texas In Music post I felt my own state pride rearing up and I indulged...until 4am.  I was really ready to get out of North Carolina and make a new life on my own terms in Austin.  Make no mistake about that.  However, Texas has made me throughly appreciate my North Carolina roots and now I'm a pseudo expert of NC people, with my interest mainly focused on the creative types.

For example, all people who are from NC:

* Cecil B De Mille - the original Riddley Scott; film director of epic movies from . The Ten Commandments clip.
* Pam Grier - first female action hero. Quentin Tarantino's muse. Check out Jackie Brown.
* Julianne Moore - beautiful woman! Wonderful in The Big Lebowsky
* David Lynch - grew up in North Carolina and Montana. Twin Peaks.
* Tom Robbins - Even Cowgirls Get The Blues was where I got my off-beat humor.
* David Sedaris - spent part of his childhood in Raleigh, NC. Makes me proud to claim him as part of NC culture because I think he's just so damn funny.  Santaland Diaries.

 David Sedaris. Photo via blog.

* Inventor of Pepsi, Caleb Bradham - from near the coast
* Edward R Murrow - famous newscaster during the Regan administration. Highlighted in Good Night, And Good Luck.
* Blackbeard - dreaded English pirate that made the tricky inlets of the NC coast his hideaway in between raids.  He was eventually caught and executed, rumors of buried treasure. 
* Zelda Fitzgerald - institutionalized here in Asheville.  Died in a fire with 9 other girls in the hospital.  I do love her artwork.

Painting by Zelda Fitzgerald. More paintings here.

A playlist of artists either born in North Carolina or based in NC.

Texas In Song

I know there are tons of amazing musicians originally from Texas (Roy Orbison, Berry White, Beyonce, Buddy Holly).  I learned this only after moving to Austin three years ago and experiencing the immense pride that they have for being born a Texan; I think the level of pride one has for their state of origin must by proportional to the size of state land mass.  I mean, they've got the state seal on all road overpass pylons, "Texas" gets thrown into business names as much as possible with "Texas Thrift Store" and "Texas Cleaners", and I've never seen so many state inspired tattoos.

With all this Texas flying around I couldn't help but notice when it came up in song lyrics.  Here's a small list of my favorite "Texas" songs.

Are there any other Texas songs that I should know about? Please do send them my way...

Flying Home

I'm flying back home to North Carolina today to stay for the next two weeks.  My brilliant younger sister Molly is graduating from high school and because I miss most of her big life events, it was mandatory that I attend this one.

I'm flying out of Durango, to Denver, to Chicago, and finally to Charlotte at midnight.  Since Charlotte's still two hours away from home, Mom is coming in the morning to drive my butt back to Asheville.  She wanted me to get a hotel room for the night, but I'm stubborn and would rather spend what money I saved for this trip from my tax refund on say, a hair cut instead of a hotel room.  So I'll be spending the night in the airport--an excellent way to save money on accommodations only if you're a glutton for the most uncomfortable sleep you've ever experienced or again, you're just plain stubborn.

The promise of a night's stay in the airport makes the inevitable flight delays much more tolerable because I'm not chomping at the bit to have already arrived somewhere else; I'm perfectly content to hang out in the Durango terminal reading my sexy vampire book as I would be in Charlotte doing the same thing for the next 12 hours.  The only thing against being stuck in the tiny Durango airport for another 3 hours is that they don't have any magazines for purchase.  That's one of the few remaining joys of airplane travel=the plethora of glossy magazines.  The little old lady in charge of the gift shop filled with blankets, stained glass, mugs, and fake deer antlers said that they simply don't deliver magazines anymore.  Makes me want to pull some sort of Bear Grease stunt on the magazine delivery truck.

Matching Silver

In the midst of Melody showing me family photos she showed me a large leather-bound collection of her and Denny’s wedding photos. Both of their siblings eloped which cause their parents to require a grand event for Denny and Melody’s nuptials.

 Check out those Buddy Holly glasses. Pure love.

One of the things that caught my eye was Mamma Finn because of her amazing hairdo. Apparently in accordance with the traditional 25-anniversary symbol of silver, Pappa Finn got her a silver Cadillac convertible. Being a lady of immense style, she promptly went to the beauty salon and got her hair dyed silver to match her new automobile. She also bought a silver mink stole to complete the picture. For the rest of her life she had a silver beehive that she wrapped in toilet paper every night to keep it in tact while she slept.

I really wish I could have met this woman.

Children

Conner and Dan would probably faint if they knew I was writing this down for all to read although they’ll probably never read this anyhow.  So here goes.  At my fervent requests their mom, Melody, has been showing me old family photos.

The boys are hands-down the cutest little kids ever.  Seeing them makes me want to have kids because damn, why let those gorgeous genes go to waste?  I mean, just look at ‘em!

 Speaking of children, I’ve noticed that people grow up fast around these parts.  So many of our friends back in Austin aren’t married and don’t even have kids on the brain.  Most of us are trying to figure out what to do with our lives and find a way to have both happy-hour and health insurance at the same time.  For heaven’s sake, only one of my friends have even gotten married and she only had a small, family-only kind of ceremony.  But here in southern Colorado I’ve met those who’ve been married and divorced by 25, divorced with two kids by 27, and married with kids and owning their own home.

Despite my desire to not let the Finn genes go to waste, the thought of Conner and I having kids within the next 10 years seems completely implausible.  We just have too many plans already that don’t involve children.

I should probably not go too overboard with show-and-tell so that it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass once we swing through North Carolina to see my family and all the awkward pictures start flying about.

Tortilla Flats

Maybe on account of there being no registered sex offenders in the area, people are rather trusting and take a lax stance towards security here.  It reminded me of the Canada segment of Bowling For Columbine and took me a minute to get used to.

So when we went to housesit at the Gummersall’s and they have a locked gate at the end of their driveway, lock all their doors, and have timers on all their lights to deter potential highjackers well, that struck Conner as funny. 

Jenny explained that the dirt road they live on leads directly to Miller Mesa, aka “Tortilla Flats” or “Little LA”.  Technically it’s in New Mexico although it’s within spitting distance of their house.  It’s kind of a “No Man’s Land” because the only police station is 1 ½ hours away in Farmington, a place everyone refers to as the Armpit Of The World.  They have an agreement with the fire station in Ignacio, a town 20 minutes away, in which Ignacio will come to their aid if fires are consuming their mobile homes.  But when it comes to vanquishing evildoers they’re on their own, and thus a lot of naughty business goes on in Miller Mesa.  Apparently they have a thriving Crystal Meth production biz going on there and it’s best to avoid the place all together.

I was under the impression that Crystal Meth was passé, was so very early ‘90s, and that only the most hard-up druggies even considered it.  But hey, what do I know?

Angela-Red

Conner and I are house-sitting for the Gummersall family while they’re in Santa Fe so that the youngest son, Tyller, can finish up recording his first full-length album with a girl named Tina.  Conner and Dan have done some recording with him earlier this year. 

Mamma Jenny is a photographer and when they visited Austin earlier this year she gave me a little lesson on how to takes photos of musicians in action.  Pappa Greg is an abstract painter and ranks #2 on my “Best Networking Skills” list under David Holmes of Intrepid Artist Management—the guys know everyone.  They have two other sons whom I have never met.  One of them is Devon Gummersall, a star in the now defunct My So-Called Life.  I was a huge fan back in the day and even died my hair Angela-red in 6th grade.  I really like the family and always end up telling them way more than I ever plan and blushing accordingly.

C and D will probably accompany Tina and Tyller when they play their cd release party in Santa Fe in a couple weeks.  Details to follow…

 Photo by Jenny Gummersall

Naked Women On Walls

The shop that we’ve been working in, this is their wall…

I hear it’s shrunken in size recently because one of their more straight-laced clients came through the shop and was shocked by the Tahitian Beauty calendars hanging up (ie. naked women in the water; one warm beauty for each of the cold and snowy months up here in Colorado).  One of the owners came in the next day and had the boys remove all their collected Beauties.  The funny thing is that the calendars were sent to the shop by another client who lives in Aspen but who is originally from Tahiti.  He goes back once a year and brings home a calendar for the boys to add to their wall…well, he used to at least. 

Amongst what remains of the wall there’s a newspaper clipping from when C and D won their second Battle Of The Bands with their old band, 6 Cents.  They look so young!

Bear Grease

On the 45 minute commute into Durango, equipped with a cooler in the back seat to do her weekly market shopping Melody told me a couple of stories about this area.  My favorite has to be this one…

I want to say it was during WW1 that this story takes place although I’m not all together positive.  Typically the mail arrived daily by train but because it was during the war when coal was scarce and there wasn’t a lot of mail that needed to be delivered every day to Arboles, the post decided to let the mail accumulate to a sizable bundle that they would hand out once a week.

A young lady living in the area was expecting a letter from her sweetheart who was off at war and she heard that the train wouldn’t be making it scheduled delivery until the following week.  Intent on getting her letter, she went down to the train tracks where it angled upwards over all large incline and smeared bear grease on the tracks.  Bear grease.  When the train came barreling through it couldn’t get enough traction to get up the hill because of all the grease and had to stop in Arboles.  The girl got her letter.  Ever since the mail has always been delivered to the town despite the size of the bundle. 

That seems to sum up the ethos of this area—the taking of matters into their own hands with a resounding, “The hell I will…”