Ye Olde Flotsam & Jetsam by pooja is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at ajooppooja.tumblr.com.
No lie, this is what I am listening to for the rest of the week. Nonstop. Remix of Paul Simon’s “You Can Call Me Al.” (via The Hairpin) My favorite song as a tiny.
Wow. Wouldn’t have known who it was without a tag.
My sister! My daughter! WHOZIT?
Genius, 5 Second Films. Hat tip to tweeting Patton Oswalt.
I’ve posted this before, but it makes me so very happy. Chennai, 2007.
We were in Chennai to celebrate Arvind & Tracy’s wedding, which is the only reason I would venture south of Delhi. Quite honestly. (Well, Bangalore, 2011, but family is so persuasive.) We took auto rickshaws everywhere and hid the white people when we could, letting the Tamil speakers bargain to avoid the white man tax. It sometimes worked, but mostly didn’t. Especially when one looked like bald Andre Agassi gone a little to pot, and his equally bald Jewish twin. They would not stay hidden. And I was useless, as my Hindi was terrible under the best of circumstances.
It will always be Madras to me.
still waiting for this to be my life.
Gone in the Morning, Newton Faulkner (2008, from Hand Built by Robots)
This is one of those songs I will be spinning and respinning on ye olde iphone this week. So happy! And relatively new, released only a few years ago. Apologies for the Bieber ad that runs before it. Happy happy fun!
So, as the title of my blog implies, I often get obsessed with one song/movie/television show/food really intensely, for a really brief period of time. And I really love the hell out of it for that brief period of time, not more than a month. When I say obsess, I mean I play it over and over again, nonstop until I move on to the next thing. It may be a spectrum thing. Or a destructively addictive personality. I’m clearly staying away from those bath salts the kids are snorting these days in either case.
What’s usually funny is that I discover it months, even years, after it is first released. I wondered about that, but now I like it. I like enjoying things after the first flush of expectation, of anticipation, because the pressure is OFF. It was like that final season of Seinfeld, while it was first running. Each new episode was sort of disappointing - even accounting for our tiny crap tv with no cable, in our ratty college apartment. They felt flat because of the expectations layered on them. (Well, except the finale, which just sucked. Jesus, Larry David.) Years later, I enjoy them, sometimes. (That backward India one is still annoying.)
Anyway, this is the start of me exploring things years after everyone else loved it the first time around. As you read this, understand you are helping to keep me off the streets looking to score blow*. Everybody wins.
*Won’t you think of the children?