Colored Bars 2
Paris, France
10_11_2009
10 November 2009
09 November 2009
08 November 2009
07 November 2009
06 November 2009
05 November 2009
Drunk Frenchman Opens Bottle of Wine With His Shoe
Unbelievably, this video was shot around the corner from our apartment.
04 November 2009
03 November 2009
02 November 2009
01 November 2009
31 October 2009
30 October 2009
29 October 2009
28 October 2009
27 October 2009
26 October 2009
25 October 2009
24 October 2009
23 October 2009
22 October 2009
21 October 2009
R.I.P. Ed Alexander
This photo was taken on July 28, 2009, in the plaza of Real de Catorce, Mexico, and it happened to be the next-to-last time I saw Dr. Eduardo Alexander alive. Ed always lived life to the fullest, without ego or regret, and could drink more mezcal and eat more “trail mix” in one day than all of us combined, then get up the next morning, make breakfast, and drive everyone home. I thank him in absentia for taking me camping in the desert, showing me the inside of that cave on the summer solstice 2008, hosting a cavalcade of Thanksgivings and July 4ths, and taking in all the strange Austinites I sent rapping at his door... and I’ll always remember that time we went rabbit hunting at Balz’s when he wore that excellent shirt with an eagle painted on the back. We already miss him.
L’Observateur : Wow, What Are the Chances?! [Fall 2009 Edition]
Turns out, there are some public clay courts the 19th, which is great for a variety of reasons: 1) The ball bounces higher, 2) It’s easier on the knees, 3) You can easily defend line calls because the ball leaves a mark in the clay, and 4) Our French Open fantasies have come to life.
The first time I went, I said “bonjour” to a 6'7" middle-aged man playing on the adjacent court, and he startled me with his response: “What’s up, dude?” Turns out, he’s an American writer (living in France for 28 years) who has co-written with Roman Polanski and used to play professional soccer in Europe. When I asked him if he left the U.S. for the same reason Polanski did, he replied, “no, nothing that fun.” I’m still not sure what he meant by that, but the very next week Polanski was arrested in Zurich on 32-year-old statutory rape charges. No matter, the end of The Tenant is still my favorite film finale of all time (“No one does it to you like Roman Polanski”), and I am now one degree of separation from the man who directed Chinatown.
Speaking of Chinatown, after four months of living out of our backpacks, we finally moved into a nice apartment in the 3rd (159 Rue du Temple, caddy-corner to the Square du Temple, just down the street from Marché des Enfants Rouges). The flat has a loft and is situated in a centuries-old building. And this is our landlord. Oh, and it’s related to Chinatown because there is a mini-Chinatown two blocks away on Rue Maire which features the oldest remaining building in Paris (1300 A.D. [subject to some debate]), which now has a Vietnamese phô restaurant in the ground floor and there is an amazing new banh mi shop next door. ¡Viva colonialism!
The Fiery Furnaces blasted through town again a few weeks ago and I had the brief pleasure of hanging out with their bass player Jason Lowenstein, which was really cool as I always quite liked his Sebadoh material. We talked at length about the timeless value of The Minutemen and SST Records and generally hit it off.
I went to one of my favorite Paris thrift shops the other day, and the Men’s button-up section had been replaced by a rack of disgusting, used-blanket-quality flannel shirts – which are unfortunately back in style. Then, when I Googled “style, flannel” to find a link for this – the final paragraph of another spell-binding edition of “L’Observateur” – the first hit was a blog post featuring a photograph of none other than Jason Lowenstein and Sebadoh. Wow, what are the chances?!
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