Rose Bowl

New Year's Day. 2:00 pm. That cursed stadium. We'll be there. Geared up. Screaming loudly. Ready to finish the season. Ready to take on the Wolverines.

And oh yah! The Farmer's Market (I won't link to you now)! What's up with the huge banner saying "The Farmer's Market welcomes the Wolverines"? In Wolverine colors. Sure they're in town. Sure it's hospitable. But no mention of the Rose Bowl in general. Or USC at all. It was more sellout than anything else. To get that extra bit of business during the holidays. Forget the fact that for the rest of the year your establishment is supported by a countless number of Trojans. I don't mind being kind to UM at all. Or welcoming them, making them feel comfortable, wishing them a good game, etc. But really. It was not cool. It seemed all about the money. Or something UCLA fans would do to spite SC. Very 'slap in the face' type of banner. No banner at all would've been much better.

Arrested Development Arrested Indefinitely

The Chicken Dance Compilation

One of my favorite shows, one of the best on TV, very well written, thought out, great delivery, great slapstick, intelligent and laugh out loud funny shows, was canceled by FOX earlier this year: Arrested Development. I didn't accept it at first because I thought surely someone else would pick it up. It was so original, clever, funny, had a cult following and was critically acclaimed. It had won almost every award a television show could win. It couldn't be scrapped. There were rumors for awhile that Showtime would pick it up, but it didn't happen. And so now it looks like despite an outcry from fans, the show has gone. I have (or will have in a couple of days) all the episodes on DVD which I'll watch over and over again (it really is one of those shows that you discover something new every time: hear a joke you missed, see a subplot alluding to a later episode, etc). I know that not everyone loves the show. Many people aren't big fans. They watch a couple of episodes and just don't get into it. S says "It's too smart for it's own good". I wish though Fox would've taken a risk and pushed through with it for a couple more seasons, or at least move it to a different night if they thought it was bringing down viewership for other shows (Prison Break...really?).

The clip above is a collection of chicken dances done by the family. Most of the Bluths (the family) have a chicken dance. When they think someone is being a chicken, they bust it out. No one's dance comes close to resembling a real chicken but somehow everyone has developed a distinct and hilarious one and every now and then in an episode we get to see one. I'd also like to pay homage by listing some memorable quotes by some of my favorite characters (all the characters are great, it's hard to pick).

Narrator: Tobias listens to a day's worth of his own words, to see what Michael was referring to...
Tobias Fünke: [on tape] ... even if it means me taking a chubby, I will suck it up.
Tobias Fünke: Nothing wrong with that.
Tobias Fünke: [on tape] Oh, I've been in the film business for a while, but I just can't seem to get one in the can.
Tobias Fünke: It's out of context.
Tobias Fünke: [on tape] I wouldn't mind kissing that man between the cheeks, so to speak.
Narrator: ...and he realized there is something distinct about the way he speaks.
Tobias Fünke: Tobias, you blow hard!

Narrator: GOB had been a pageant judge for years.
GOB: You cannot believe what it does for your sex life.
Michael: I don't want to hear it.
GOB: I don't want to say it -- First place chick is hot, but has an atttitude; doesn't date magicians. Second place is someone weird usually, like a chinese girl or a geologist. But third place, although a little bit plain has super-low self-esteem, so I step in and, uh... lay her crown upon my sweet head.

Tobias: Okay, Lindsay, are you forgetting that I was a professional twice over — an analyst and a therapist. The world’s first analrapist.
Lindsay: Yes, and you were almost arrested for those business cards.
...
Tobias: You know Michael, if I may take off my acting pants for a moment, and pull my analrapist stocking over my head, George Michael has been acting strange lately. I think he may have developed what we in the soft sciences refer to as Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, or the O.C. Disorder.

Fat free foam fails to fall flat

We've had an ongoing discussion (read: argument) in our lab about whether full fat milk is better for the cappuccinos or non-fat milk. It started when I told the peeps that I read somewhere that non-fat foams better. Oh my god!! My PI wouldn't hear it. Connoisseur that he is refused to touch the stuff when it was bought for our lab machine. And many other "snobs" (honestly, I'm a snob too but at least less than them, so ha!) agreed. So for months now we've been getting the full fat. Dilemma: Nowadays many of us are also watching our weight and since we have now slowly progressed to a daily cap habit, and are really starting to worry about when we'll have to increase the dosage to two a day, the full fat milk poses a significant problem to the aforementioned weight loss (in my case, more like "please God, no more gain!!"). So last week, myself and another, after about five minutes of "should we really do this?", broke down and bought low fat milk. That act opened the floodgates of courage and boldness for me, and today I went and got the non-fat for the machine (still need to switch labels though, so PI et al think they are none the worse). I still hadn't decided whether I thought one was better than the other. It's difficult to judge because when you order at coffee shops, they usually can't foam well to begin with, and so the nonfat foam just becomes big airy bubbles, where as it is much harder to do that with full fat and you're duped into thinking full fat is better. It's not. It's just easier. Today I foamed the non-fat and was so happy to find that it was SO much better then the full fat. Nice pillowy, cloudy, consistent, non-deflatable foam. One problem though. The milk is so watered down, the cap flavor is reduced. So maybe full fat for the addition, nonfat for the foam? That's a Starbucks order to try. "I'll have a tall cappuccino please with non-fat foam but full-fat milk". I wonder if they've heard that yet. And yes I know how ridiculous this post is. I'm not even going to try to pretend that it isn't out there. But this is me folks. This is how ridiculous/pretentious I've become when it comes to my espresso drinks. I blame graduate school. Great need for caffeine mixed with a drive to really research the hell out of something mixed with time to do it when trying to avoid your own failing research. And my PI. Getting a top of the line machine for the lab. The nerve of him. In my defense, I've already had a double shot.

Goodbye to the Victory Bell (USC v UCLA)

After having had possession of the Victory Bell for seven years, the time came tonight for it to be returned to UCLA. It had to happen sooner or later. I don't think many expected it to come tonight. I should've known. UCLA people were jinxing me all week: "We all know who'll win. I mean UCLA isn't even ranked"; "We have a 2% chance of winning"; "etc". I hate college football rivalry games. None of the regular rules ever apply. The best teams are so easily and ridiculously intimidated. There is so much emotion involved. Bragging rights are very easily transformed to fighting rights. It was a rough afternoon. I couldn't watch the last 5 minutes, but I couldn't not watch either. So I was constantly sitting down (in a crowd of students all standing) and then getting back on the bleachers to look over everyone's heads. And then sitting back down. The last minute was all sitting. With my hat covering my face. Staring at my shoes. With hands clasped. I figured I didn't need to look up because I would know it was over by the thunderous sound of the UCLA fans celebrating their victory. But there was no thunder. They were loud, but not too much. No rushing of the field. No bringing down the goal posts. Instead I knew it was over by the deafening silence of our student section. Much more painful. It's alright. Good for UCLA fans. But not really. That's not what college rivalry is about. I'm not happy for them. The hell with them. I live in UCLA territory. They're nasty. They've vandalized my car because of my USC plate. I've been threatened and yelled at while crossing the street and I've been cussed at while driving my car (in the last two weeks). It's alright because there's always next year. There's always another chance. In the words of the All American Rejects, whose song has been stuck in my head since my dreams last night, my new anthem for our losses:

"When all you got to keep is strong
Move along, move along like I know you do
And even when your hope is gone
Move along, move along just to make it through

(Move along)
(Go on, go on, go on, go on)
Right back what is wrong
We move along".

Music Nostalgia

I got a tune stuck in my head the other day. Before long I had placed it and was on iTunes downloading Crazy Love and other Brian McKnight songs that had very distinct memories of 1994/1995 for me. Its amazing and beautiful and strange how music can awaken memories and all the feelings associated with those memories for you. Something you haven't thought of for years is suddenly, and very vividly, present in your dreams that night. Someone you haven't spoken to for what feels like an eternity is now so alive in your mind.

I think musicians are special as artists in that way. They, like other artists, have the power and the ability to render their art to be so many different things to many different people. They have the power to affect the minds, hearts, memories of their fans. But, I know of no other thing besides the sense of smell, that can evoke that same amount of physical nostalgia. That can transform a person to another time and place. Complete with images and emotions. In that way, I think music is really awesome as an art.

I'm so glad to have remembered these songs and have the chance to feel sixteen again. Even if its only for five minutes (that's probably as long as I would be able to tolerate my sixteen year old self anyway).