pinball psychedelia.

I think a big part of who I am today comes from watching this on Sesame Street several times when I was a child.



Years later I would declare Yellow Submarine one of my favorite movies and cite Milton Glaser as one of my favorite illustrators. I think this clip is why.
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songer-singwaiter.

Last night the ghost of Harry Nilsson showed up in my apartment and we wrote a little song. Today I recorded it using my little Coby mp3 player. And it can be heard here.
















Me and Nilsson. "No, I was solids."
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return from exile.














































































































(click on photos to see larger size)

I've been leaving my blog more or less alone for quite some time now, for some reason or another (girlssummervacationalbumdepressionwork), but I figured it about time to get back into my musings and pictures. These are photos I took while on my voluntary exile in Avalon.
T'was a lovely island town with lots of fellow vacationers and perfect weather (people on the mainland were dropping dead in the heat wave while we relaxed in the upper 80s). Here is what I have to report:

-Golf carts are the dominant vehicle in Avalon, since bringing over cars and trucks is expensive and requires a lengthy registration process. The carts are mostly electric, which is great environmentally as well as financially, considering that the one gas station on the island was selling gas for about $4.85 a gallon. Not being a big fan of cars, I enjoyed an environment free of obnoxious radios blasting 50 Cent from SUV windows and diesel pickups roaring down the street. Also, golf carts are more pedestrian-friendly, as their open-air cabs allow the driver to be more aware of his or her surroundings.

-Every day, hundreds of people (thousands on some days) get off the fairy boats or visiting cruise ships to explore the city, lay on the beach, or get drunk in the bars. In the evening, another mass of folks pile back onto the boats to head home. I liked this idea of a constantly shifting population. Fresh people, every day.

-Since the town is so small an localized, the locals enjoy a high-density living area. Everything you need is kept within walking/biking/golf-cart distance, promoting social activity and excercise while discouraging isolation. (While touring the inner island we passed a few lonely, isolated houses which were appropriately in the vacinity of a Christian radio station. Because as long as you have Jesus, you don't need real people and all that sinful socializing.)

-The mail in Avalon is not delivered. Instead, you must go down to the post office near the waterfront to collect and distribute your letters. Again, the key word is activity. Take a walk, pick up the mail, say hi to some folks, eat a hotdog...

-Because Avalon is a tourist haven, most of the bars, shops, restaurants and ice cream parlors on the main street are open late. I just really appreciated this coming from Corvallis, the city that is in bed by 8:00. And since the streets are well lit, and there are always plenty of barhoppers around, nobody mugs you or stabs you in the face.

-Of course, there were some downsides to Avalon. For example- The city's trademark casino, which was the place to party from the 1920s through the 60s, is only open now for guided tours and a few private banquets every year. T'would have been nice to at least get a martini in the ballroom. Something else I noticed about the island was that the 18-25 crowd was a bit underrepresented. I guess all the young people go to college on the mainland and only venture home when they can afford the trip (in addition, Avalon is certainly not Cancun). And finally, Avalon has no CD stores. So as relaxing as the place is, this assures that I could never live there.
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