Man, I love Korean films, not the long-ass drama series, but the more challenging to watch. With I Saw the Devil, director Kim Jee-woon pushes revenge beyond humane. The movie is so fucked up that I feel like a sick bastard for enjoying it. Not recommended for the faint of heart.
The Sienna’s cracked windshield was replaced today by Auto Glass Express, not the Glass Doctor recommended by our insurance. Glass Doctor was suppose to do the job on Friday, but I received the call on the the same day telling me that the vendor didn’t have the windshield even though I made an appointment a week in advanced. The lady from the office told me to either wait until next week or find another shop. I took the second option. Even after reading the negative reviews about Glass Doctor, I didn’t want to back out because the appointment was set and the shop has the stamp of approval from our insurance, but they just it so easy for me to make the decision.
I looked online and found Auto Glass Express with two positive reviews on Yahoo. (Yahoo had been quite a reliable source for services like these in the past). I called at 7:54am and didn’t realized that they open at 8am. Six minutes later a guy called me back even though I didn’t leave a message. He said that they have the windshield in stock and would be able to replace it in the afternoon on Friday.
Unfortunately my windshield required heated glass and they had both regular and heated glass in their van, but the heated one had some scratches. So they told me they would return the next morning to do it. They came back the next morning and installed the glass that is the same as the original from Toyota. I am happy with their speedy, professional service
I dropped Dao off today and he walked with me from the parking lot to the building instead of nagging to be carried in. He looked at the flowers and said hi to people who walked by. For the first time, since he made the transition to the new class, Dao didn’t cry when we walked in. One of his teachers asked him to come sit down. Not only he came toward her, but he also blew me a kiss. All three teachers were like, “wow.” It’s must be the new Dao. Just yesterday he didn’t even want to go into the room when I opened the door for him. I held him in and tried to play with him a bit, but nothing worked. He just held on to me tight. Eventually I had to let him go and one of the teachers had to hold him. As I walked away, I could still hear him screamed. Today is a brand new day and I hope he’ll continued to be this way.
I was NetFlixing around and didn’t realize that I was watching Stieg Larsson’s Dragon Tattoo Trilogy until the second film. I started out with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, then The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest and then The Girl Who Played With Fire. The experience was still riveting. The films are dark, thrilling and wild. Dragon Tattoo is disturbing; Played With Fire is violent; and Hornet’s Nest is edgy. Noomi Rapace as Lisbeth Salander owns every scene she’s in. Her portrait of Lisbeth as smart, wicked and can’t be fucked with. The trilogy is a suspenseful escape.
Yes, it’s the hot, humid weather that shuts down my brain. The worst part of day is taking the Metro home. Squeezing into the smelly crowd (myself included) and bumping on one another as the driver slammed on the brake give me a headache everyday after work.
I have no energy left by the time I get home. I don’t want to do anything including blogging. After having dinner, getting Duke to bed and preparing for the next morning, I just want to sit back and Netflixing. That has been pretty much how my days went.
Change is gonna come later this year when I have other commitment and the arrival of a new baby. Blogging will be spared then. Not that the blog is all that active now since I don’t have anything interesting to write. I am getting bored with music reviews and my life isn’t all that exciting anyway. Although my posts will be infrequent, I will keep the blog running to post quick things when I have a moment or if I have new work to show. It will once again server as a portfolio more than a blog.
I read the first edition of Ted Gioia’s The History of Jazz in 2005. At that time I just started to develop my passion for jazz; therefore, the book was informative and overwhelming at the same time. Since then I have spent a tremendous amount of time listening, reading and learning more about jazz and its history.
I intended to visit this book for a while and the release of the second edition is just perfect. Rereading The History of Jazz the second time with a bit of background as a listener makes me appreciate Gioia’s work even more. What a daunting task writing about the complexity of the music that refuses to stand still for over a century. Gioia took us way back to the early nineteenth century with a vivid opening scene:
An elderly black man sits astride a large cylindrical drum. Using his fingers and the edge of his hand, he jabs repeatedly at the drum head—which is around a foot in diameter and probably made from an animal skin—evoking a throbbing pulsation with rapid, sharp strokes. A second drummer, holding his instrument between his knees, joins in, playing with the same staccato attack. A third black man, seated on the ground, plucks at a string instrument, the body of which is roughly fashioned from a calabash. Another calabash has been made into a drum, and a woman heats at it with two short sticks. One voice, then other voices join in. A dance of seeming contradictions accompanies this musical give-and-take, a moving hieroglyph that appears, on the one hand, informal and spontaneous yet, on closer inspection, ritualized and precise. It is a dance of massive proportions. A dense crowd of dark bodies forms into circular groups—perhaps five or six hundred individuals moving in time to the pulsations of the music, some swaying gently, others aggressively stomping their feet. A number of women in the group begin chanting.
From there on Gioia takes us from New Orleans to Chicago to Kansas City and then to New York for lively musical analysis and concise but accessible portraits of eminent jazz figures as well as the overlooked artists who contributed to the ever-changing styles of jazz. Must read for anyone who is passionate about the story of jazz.
Last night when we were about to go to sleep, Dao rubbed my head and said, “Daddy, toc dep [nice hair].” I haven’t heard that compliment for a while. I was flattered even though I know don’t have much hair left.
As I was ironing my clothes, Dao pointed to the iron and said, “Tau chay [running boat].” I love the way he visualizes objects. At the same time he was jumping out and down the bed and all of the sudden I heard a fart noise. He said, “Ouch, Dao pooped.”
At a restaurant, I gave Dao my American Express and showed him how to tuck it into the bill holder pocket. He brought the bill up to the cashier and handed to cashier. He stood there waiting, but she didn’t return the card. He cried out loud and said, “The [card] Dao.” I had to explain to him that she was calculating the bill.
At Pho Hoa, I took him to the men’s room to wash his hands, but before we do that I told him that “Daddy need to pee pee first.” I carried him to the urinal and he me to “bo vo [put in].” I was like, “Say what?”
Dao returns to his crying when I drop him off at the daycare. This morning we met Ms. Ester on the way in. She came over to say hi to Dao, but he turned away, held on to me and didn’t want to interact with her. Ms. Ester used to be able to get him to show her things on his shirt to distract him from crying, but he didn’t even look at her this morning. I said to Ms. Ester, “It’s the morning thing.” Her response was, “It’s ok. It happens when they move to upperclass. I still miss him.” I felt bad and I knew that Dao didn’t mean to do that. He’s just not a good sport in the morning. I explained to him about how not being nice to Ms. Ester, but I doubt that he registered. I took him to class and couldn’t get him to play any toy at all. I had to let him go and let him cry.
Spent quite a bit of time with Ben Webster lately. His tender tone combined with his lyrical phrasing is damn irresistible. Furthermore, he has such a distinctive sound on the tenor that one could tantalizing and idolizing all day long. I enjoy listening to Ben Webster while driving. Here are some of my favorite Ben Webster albums to hit the road with:
Soulville. Backing up by the sensational rhythm section, guitarist Herb Ellis, bassist Ray Brown, and drummer Stan Levey, Ben Webster digs deep down into the blues in the title track and plays the heck out of ballads like “Lover Come Back to Me.” He also displays his “Boogie Woogie” chops on the piano.
Stormy Weather. He plays the title track and “My Romance” as if he wears his heart on his horn.
Art Tatum/Ben Webster Quartet. The contrast between Art Tatum’s keyboard improvisation behind Ben Webster’s straight melody playing is quite intriguing. Check out the lovely “My One and Only Love.”
Ben Webster Meets Oscar Peterson. From “The Touch of Your Lips” to “This Can’t Be Love,” this is a fine collection of after-hours ballads played by two jazz giants.
Coleman Hawkins Encounters Ben Webster. Bean and Brute on the same records? Need I say more?
One of the perks of spending the Fourth at my sister’s place is that we can cut Dao loose. In fact, it’s the other way around. As soon as Dao saw Eric, he cut us loose. Dao loved to play with his big cousin and he copied everything Eric did. They jumped up and down the bed, chased each other around the house or watched Curious George together. Although five years apart, Dao and Eric played well together. Dao looked up to Eric and Eric liked to show things to Dao. Eric was also very good at being gentle to his little cousin. I am so glad to see the bond between the two of them.