And then there’s the completely useless crap we decide to find because, well, we get to wondering who sang “Radar Love.” (Golden Earring)

And then their costumes lead to talk of the clothes worn by Loverboy in Working for the Weekend. How could it not?

Yet another 80s icon has fallen. John Hughes is dead. Though I wouldn’t have known him if I saw him walking down the street, and don’t know if I’ve seen a new movie of his in years, I’m feeling his lost today after watching Pitchfork’s musical retrospective of Hughes’ best films. What memories those clips and songs bring back.

Anytime I hear “Don’t You Forget About Me” by Simple Minds, I invariably slip back in time to my junior and senior years in high school and find myself in Delta Billiards on W. 72 St. in Manhattan. For about 18 months or so, Delta was the place to be. Located steps from the best and cheapest hit dogs in the city, in the heart of the Upper West Side where the children of former hippie parents who had scored too-perfect-too-ever-leave rent-controlled apartments could congregate in packs, Delta played the role of smoky neighborhood bar, and furnished basement rec room for a plethora of underage, old before our time urban kids.

Friday and Saturday nights were of course, the time when it played that role to the fullest. On those nights, the joint was packed to the brim with pretty much anyone who was anyone between the ages of 14 and 18 and living or hanging out on the Upper West Side. There we would gather to pre-func (though we didn’t call it that then), see who was going where, try and catch a glimpse of whomever it was we were after that month (I’m looking for you Katie Niemens, wherever you’ve disapeared to), got high or drunk around the corner and down the block, and listened to lots of loud music courtesy of the DJ in the loft who knew exactly the mood we were all in and what we all wanted to here.

Forever emblazoned in my memory is one crystal clear moment. It was a Saturday night in early spring and  every high school in the city had just started Spring Break. The place was packed and my friends and I had a table right in the middle of the room. (Living just a few blocks away, we spent more time in the off hours there than most, securing a spot in the heart and mind of the guy who controlled such things.) Everywhere I looked were people I knew, if not by name than by gossip. With a full week of freedom ahead of us, the rumor that Katie Niemens was going to be there and all the promise of the first warm spring night, the room was crackling with energy and hormones. We were all getting lucky that night.

And then it came on. The first snare hit and guitar chords shot through the room and everyone–EVERYONE–stopped and sang it together: “HEY! HEY! HEY! HEEEY!”

That song was so invigorating and so full of the tension and hope and fear and excitement and questions and promise we all felt at that point in our lives that we couldn’t help but love it. I couldn’t help but be filled up with its perfect driving beat and completely grabbing hook. Strutting around the table, cue in hand, eyeing the door and waiting for Katie Niemens while laughing with Zoe and Mike and Joy and Troy and all the rest, I couldn’t help but feel part of the crowd. And cool. This was living.

And we all knew that song because of John Hughes.

I have a million more memories associated with John Huges’ movies, like we all do. Sitting on the floor of Jennifer Negovetti’s house watching Breakfast Club for the first time and being blown away by how right on the entire thing was. The thrill of Ferris’ long final jump over the wall. Shit. With “Some Kind of Wonderful” alone, the man is responsible for my firm romanticism and belief in true, ever-lasting love (and an unfortunate period in high school during which I carried around drum sticks where ever I went, even though I never have played the drums).

16 Candles.

Pretty in Pink.

Just say the names and so many images jump to mind.

Hughes’ best work was as a director and writer in the 80s. Anything past that on his IMDB page (or without the director credit) is mostly forgettable, to be honest. But his best movies will live on for a long time, because they spoke to a generation in crystal clear tones as we were forming our deepest memories. John Hughes, you will be missed, but we won’t forget about you.

My wonderful sister Nina, who lives in South Alabama and throws a great party every year, owns a small business and is one of the few Democrats in her area sent me a movie called The National Debt Road Trip today. Her husband Mike, a Republican whom I love, sent it to her. She forwarded it to me, saying, “wish I had time to see if this is accurate or not?”

As you can imagine, I have some thoughts about it. Here’s my response to her.

True or not, it allows the viewer to assume the math is correct because the narrator sounds so sure of himself. However, it leaves some very salient facts out or shades them a bit….
The speed that Obama has us driving now is based on “projections.” Projections do not equal actual outcomes. It is very possible that Obama will get his way with the budget and we will “travel that fast on the debt highway,” but it is not assured. Nor is it assured that tax revenues (which this little movie doesn’t mention at all) will stay lower than they have been in a long time thanks to the recession. Federal debt is made up of two things: spending and revenues. If revenues rise, the brakes will be hit on the debt car. Yet this movie doesn’t mention the vastly reduced tax revenues that have come about as a result of a recession, the likes of which we have not seen since the Great Depression, and that are the fault of a “failure” of the US economy based largely on Republican efforts to deregulate everything except a woman’s right to choose.

Similarly, the movie leaves out the very salient facts that a large part of the debt spending is due to that recession (which does seem to be slowing if not slowly reversing). Nor does it mention that the first stimulus came under the Bush Administration. NOR does it mention that many, many, many economists say that debt spending now, because of the recession, is necessary. Yes, it’s a big debt. But we’ve got a big whole in the economy and the government needs to fill it. And now! Otherwise, Mike and all of his Republian friends and all us Democrats are gonna be sitting on the breadlines because there will be no economic infrastructure to support the way we live.
And if they tell you that private enterprise can do it better without government interference, point out the health care system, or the banking system, or Enron to them. They’ve done a bang-up job making sure everything runs smoothly for the rest of society, eh?

In short, this movie is a straw-man argument designed to sound intelligent and reasoned. But it leaves out many salient points that make all the difference in this discussion. It makes for an easy to digest sound bite, but it is far from a full picture of the situation.

It’s a week late, but not a dollar short, I assure you.

Last weekend, Ilsa, Paul and I rode our bikes down to Artopia/Georgetown Music Fest in Georgetown, the current hippest neighborhood in all of Seattle. The art, for the most part was somewhat uninspiring. For example, this block of melting ice.

uh-huh.

There were also men made of stones.

I thought the best art of the day was the setting. Georgetown is an old industrial area of Seattle, sitting at the North end of the Boeing Field runway. It’s full of large old warehouses, brick buildings and little nooks and crannies of streets that tend to end at freeway walls, train tracks and, well, the runway. It’s a place with the kind of history that you don’t see much of in Seattle. Makes for some really cool, dramatic-looking pictures.

I did get a bit goofy with the edits here.

Oh, and there was the Star Wars van.

Best of all though was the Hazard Factory Power Tool Races. Yes, it is what it sounds like. People take power tools such as saws, belt sanders, drills and anything else with a motor that run without human contact could cause some serious damage and run them down a wooden track in races, into things and into each other. I’ve seen these guys once before and they are a blast.

This year, I saw them send various power tools down a track to smash buckets of paint into a canvas in honor of artopia. Then they played power tool skee ball and finally held a demolition derby. Here’s the two good clips of video I could get through the crowd. Really an impressive show.

Thank God I am married.

Nation’s Girlfriends Unveil New Economic Plan: ‘Let’s Move In Together’

<via 40licious>

A few weeks ago a few friends and I went up to Lopez Island in the San Juans for the annual Tour de Lopez. A 31-mile ride around this relatively flat and very beautiful island.

Here are some pictures.

Seriously, this is what the Brits get upset about? Seriously?

Michelle Obama Hugs Queen Elizabeth, Stirs Controversy

There is no love lost by me for Huffington Post, but now and again, they post something to their Comedy email that is worth sharing. A video documenting the many places where images of Jesus (and the Virgin Mary) has been found by Everythingisterrible.com is one of those things.

This is the world we live in folks.

Why do people keep pissing off John Stewart? Really, what was CNBC’s Santelli thinking?

For a long time now I’ve thought it would be very cool to be from Japan. Or at least to live there. (I actually don’t think I would be very happy as a Japanese person.) I’ve always been enamored with the culture, the history and the cutting-edge technology of all types. This seals the deal though: speedy, secure, space-saving underground bike parking.

Giken’s ‘Eco-park’ parking structures are secure, simple, and useful. They’re also quite cool. Unmanned by attendants, they are defined by a small garage outpost coming out of the ground that would be mistaken for aerodynamic ATMs if you didn’t know anything about them.

[snip]

Within 10-25 seconds, your bike has descended into the deep machinery abyss underground. But don’t worry, it’s safe and sound. The locking base is switched underground and suspended in place in its own railway. Each garage includes 144 railways for bikes, which must abide by a certain length, height, and tire size (at 28-inches). Still, it’s definitely a space saver.

via @usingbicycles Now, there are some issues with the contraption and business model: why pay for bike parking? What if someone tries to grab their bike as it flies in and gets their hand ripped off? People are stupid after all. But I can imagine some great applications for this. I don’t think we need one on every corner, but install one at a baseball stadium, at the mall, on the campus of a big company or college, or at park and ride transit centers and I bet more people do ride their bikes.

Plus, our cities would be that much cooler.