casey kotchman

certainly I don't watch as much baseball as I did when I was writing The Catcher, The Starting Pitcher and The Shortstop, but it's not like I've spent the last two seasons on a desert island or anything. and last night's showing by the Angels' Casey Kotchman was, I believe, the best single-game defensive performance I've ever seen by first baseman.
no less than five plays yielded a relatively unconscious "wow" to my lips, including nullifying a potential down-the-line extra base hit by Hideki Matsui and saving a teammate (shortstop Orlando Cabrera) from an embarassing throwaway.

and yes, I probably hold onto favorites for too long (like Ric Flair maintaining his title in case of a draw, countout or DQ) in some kind of old school deathgrip on better days past, but today Casey Kotchman officially replaces Doug Mientkiewicz (Paul Westerberg's favorite player when Doug was with the Twins) as my pick for best defensive first baseman in the game right now (though Mientkiewicz holds on to his "most difficult first baseman to spell" designation).

Kotchman also went three for five with a dinger and two RBI as the Angels whupped the Yankees 10-6.

and no, that didn't bother me a bit.

I see that

the New York Times has decided to tackle the pressing issue of Yankee Stadium's bag check policy (that I actually wrote about two weeks ago today).
of course, the Times takes a more distanced, less opinionated stance.
and I still believe that this is yet another in a long line of examples of the team's imperious nature.
like cheering for the house in Vegas, I tell you. like cheering for the house in Vegas.

call it effortful disdain.
not unlike the Jesus and Mary Chain show last Monday night.

(I ask you, how many blogs are willing to point out the similarities between the New York Yankees and Jesus and Mary Chain?)

in any case, more JaMC pics have been posted at the increasingly popular (we kid) last concert I ever saw.

other current links include a third posting (and second reprinting) of my Kings of Leon piece (this time in St. Louis' Riverfront Times - scroll down; they have Web layout issues, at least with my browser) and a brief preview of the extended re-issue of Sonic Youth's Daydream Nation in Philadelphia Weekly.

and finally, healthy shout outs to the relatively home confined Kayro Carr and Michael Akin (two completely different ailments, I assure you).
of course, I'm still sick, looking for drugs and a Shrek Happy Meal figure, but don't mind me. no, don't mind me at all.
I'll get better. or die.
one or the other.
so don't worry your pretty little head.
I'll be fine.
or not.
in any case, what do you care?
go and enjoy your long weekend.
I'll be fine.
maybe.

for a good cause

monday night at the webster

jesus, mary and joseph (chain)!

my first published pics in the Voice (technically the Voice music blog) (taken less than 15 hours ago) hit this morning.
and I believe it's also the first time I've ever been quoted for a Voice piece as well (I'm "the photographer")

they used two of my more darker images (though I love Jim Reid's facial expression in one, the Dylanesque quality of William Reid's hair in two). and were kind enough to link my name through to the last concert I ever saw website.

lighter, more readily visible photos (most likely grouped as Reid 1 and Reid 2; thank you again, Dr. Seuss) will be posted later this evening, ironing be damned.

click here for Harvilla's scintillating account (and my comparably scintillating photos).

(jamc) impressionism (17)

jesus and mary chain
webster hall
new york city
05/21/2007

eight unusual things we did this weekend

1. bought a Happy Meal (we now have two Puss in Boots and two Donkeys from the Shrek III collection - somebody pilfer me a Shrek figure. please.)

2. bought a lottery ticket (we didn't win, which is in no way unusual)

3. ordered the sauteed catfish filet with crushed black pepper from our local Thai establishment (rather than, say, chicken pad thai or drunk ard fried rice with shrimp (and most likely won't go that direction again - although the catfish was tasty, the rest of the dish was almost unbelievably spicy and had too many loose items (strands of peppercorns, hard shards of ginger) that had to be removed prior to ingestion. which was a pain in my tuckus.)

4. watched The Queen and The Good Shepherd (and no, watching movies on the weekend is by no definition a foreign activity, but both movies were new to us. looking for a rec? take The Queen over The Good Shepherd as the latter was remarkably uninteresting for a Cold War spy movie based on the early days of the CIA)

5. discussed NOT moving away from New York

6. ate Sunday brunch in Brooklyn (good food, good service, good choice)

7. posted some of the muchly anticipated, highly awaited pics from night two of Arcade Fire's United Palace stand (look here (you'll also find a unique shot above) but know that there is more to come)

8. "finished" (finally) my muchly anticipated, highly awaited prose piece on Hiromi scheduled to run in the Village Voice's jazz supplement in early June.

seriously

my photos of The National's second United Palace performance (at least "the good ones") so kicked the ass of the pic that ran in this week's Voice.

oh, and I'm still sick.

ipso facto, or happy mother's day

spent most of yesterday feeling poorly while transcribing my in-person interview with Hiromi while watching Hugh Grant in About A Boy while waiting to depart to NJ for Mother's Day Eve festivities.

earlier this week, Houston Press ran a slightly different edit of my previously published Kings of Leon piece.

today's celebration, in addition to Mother's Day, revolves around the double birthday of two writer friends (combined they're 79 years young).

but we did manage to sneak in the Sunday morning hobby and a new last concert I ever saw posting (photographs of The National that are just too damn dark).

I can't bring in my backpack, but you can carry a long, pointy stick because it's got the right colored cloth attached

Yankee Stadium gripes my ass.

while their smoking ban (love the "Smokers Will Be Ejected" sign; gotta put that on my Christmas list), even in open ends of the concourse, has been in effect for a couple of years, a new rule against backpacks inside Yankee Stadium has now taken hold. of course you have to reach one of the (what? all of) four inconvenient entrances to find that out before you're practically shoved to the bowling alley across the street to chance to check your bag for a mere $5.

besides being terribly inconvenient (who has time to go home and drop off their backpack or briefcase after work when the game starts at 7:05? and why the hell should you have to leave the game early to avoid a human traffic jam trying to retrieve said bag?), the ban is borderline sexist, seeing as how a number of purses at least as large as backpacks made it in unscathed.

but it's a privilege to watch the most expensive team in history (complete with 2007's three highest-salaried players once Clemens arrives), right? and what's another Lincoln when a $65 (face) ticket can rent you the best seat in the upper deck? (I'm not even going to mention the $8 charge for 20 ounces of domestic beer) after all, George has to raise the cash somehow.
(talk about cheering for the house in Vegas)

by fortuitous coincidence, the New York Times ran a story (entitled "Stay Put When The Music Plays") in today's paper on how the Yankees are now using chains across the aisles to prevent fans from moving during the playing of their scratchy recording of Kate Smith's "God Bless America."
(not to be confused with the piece on how the team is now reaching out to Latin fans by offering empanadas)

I just love me some enforced patriotism - especially if I can choke it down with a ballpark empanada.

(yes Virginia, it does smell a little facist in here.)

we're most assuredly still back

though I failed to transcribe a single word, which was pretty much #1 (well, #2 behind laundry) on the weekend to-do list.

instead we hung out with Corey Smith (his first visit ever to New York City as well as his first New York show (article forthcoming in June but photos at last concert I ever saw very soon)), closed down The Rum House, slept late, celebrated my brother's birthday with a trip to The Chelsea Art Museum (songs of the day: Elvis' "(I Don't Want To Go To) Chelsea" and Liz Phair's "Cinco de Mayo"), ate at The Burger Joint (an inspired choice) (see above), watched two movies (Stranger Than Fiction (strong cast, innovative script, wimpy ending) and Who the #$&% Is Jackson Pollock?), did the aforementioned laundry as well as the regular Sunday hobby activity.

and a busy (busy) week ahead.

we're back

and pretty much in every sense of the word.

after a long, long week (wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, interview Kings of Leon (performing in Scotland) on Tuesday afternoon, transcribe that night, write Wednesday and Thursday while packing, working, scrambling through last minute, freakish tasks dropped on my head like a lead safe in a Three Stooges short, scrambling) before flying to Atlanta (see above pic) for a long (there's that word again), enjoyable weekend at the ARLIS (not to be confused with "Arliss") Conference where we snuck in activities like breaking bread and imbibing intoxicants with a wide variety of Southern-based friends and family, sightseeing trips to the Georgia Aquarium ("the world's largest and most engaging aquarium") and the High Museum of Art, and a beautiful Sunday morning walk through Midtown while listening to Frank Black Francis.

all in all, a lovely respite.
primary casualty? my sunglasses.
gone, it seems, like the proverbial wind (yes, we also have poor pics - which we will not be posting - of the Margaret Mitchell House).

and that Kings of Leon piece?
right here, baby.
live and in color at Kansas City's Pitch.