Via Roy, I found out about the death of one of my all-time favorite band frontmen- Pete Shelley of the Buzzcocks passed away on December 6th. I have posted about the Buzzcocks before, their compilation Singles Going Steady, purchased by a teenaged Bastard, was the one album which most affected my musical tastes going forward. The band's sound was an incongruous mélange of aggressive, distorted guitar onslaught and warbled, emotional vocals... a perfect blend of punk aggression and pop sweetness.
The band specialized in songs about unrequited love, expressed in non-gendered terms by Mr Shelley (born Peter McNeish, he took stage name from the name his parents would have given him if he'd been born a girl). One of my favorite songs by the band, You Say You Don't Love Me, starts off with Pete singing about his unrequited love, then coming to the realization that he is okay with being, as the angry boys say, 'friendzoned'. It's a remarkably mature approach to teen emotional angst, with Shelley realizing that the word love 'entails a few things that I would be well rid of', at least in terms of this particular relationship:
What Do I Get? is a more straightforward tale of heartache, with the 'heart on sleeve' lyrics contrasting nicely with the crashing cymbal and driving, buzzsaw guitars:
The Buzzcocks also liked to subvert the typical machismo of rock-and-roll, with the song Fast Cars being a comical riposte to the typical Chuck Berry/Beach Boys/Dick Dale love of hotrods:
The band also had some more experimental songs, with Are Everything, covered later by Heaven 17, being a less straightforward song than their earlier oeuvre:
After the Buzzcocks broke up, Pete Shelley embarked on a solo career, in which he dabbled in electronic dance music. The single Homosapien is classic Shelley sexual ambiguity, expressed with good humor:
Telephone Operator was another great Shelley solo effort, an ode to an aural (or oral) stimulator which calls back to Pete's early, earnest tales of longing:
The Buzzcocks reformed for live shows, and even toured this year. Here's the band from a Mexico City appearance on this year's tour, singing their biggest hit, Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've)?:
The audience's singalong with the band tells you everything you need to know about the band and its fanbase. Pete Shelley gave us some great, heartfelt music with emotionally true, wise lyrics. His songs were always about tolerance, about maturity in relationships, about working through one's heartaches to find happiness:
Well, I'm not happy nowadays, now that I found about about losing Pete, but this shall pass. Pete wouldn't want us to grieve for him... the best way to memorialize him is to blast his body of work at full volume and work through the tears. Life's no illusion, love's not a dream, now I know just what it is... Pete told me that when I was still a kid, and for that I'm grateful.
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query buzzcocks. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query buzzcocks. Sort by date Show all posts
Monday, December 10, 2018
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Forgive Me, Dear Readers
Having recently posted my 500th post, I see that there is a glaring, appalling lack of posts regarding The Buzzcocks, whose name (oddly enough) is not a not-so-thinly-veiled vibrator reference. The Buzzcocks had a huge influence on the English punk scene, and subsequent independent rock and power pop. Personally, my purchase of Singles Going Steady on vinyl (sigh) in an independent (sigh) record shop (sigh) while in high school was a milestone in my music consumption habits. I had my first exposure to punk and new wave while still in grammar school, having discovered the storied WLIR on a transistor radio I'd received as a birthday present. While I had a good grounding in the music, it wasn't until I discovered an eccentric record store that I was able to purchase a record like Singles Going Steady. The record opens with the hilarious Orgasm Addict and doesn't let up for its entire length (heh). Lead singer Pete Shelley's high-pitched vocals were tailor-made for conveying tales of romantic yearning, nascent sexual identity, uncertainty in relationships, and the giddiness of a new love. One of my favorite Buzzcocks' tunes (apparently, it's also Henry Rollins' favorite) is Harmony In My Head, which features guitarist Steve Diggle's growl instead of Pete Shelly's warble:
Crank the speakers up to the proverbial "11", people- this is pretty much the soundtrack for my not-necessarily misspent yute. It's amazing how well the music holds up- it's not just the rosy glow of nostalgia.
Crank the speakers up to the proverbial "11", people- this is pretty much the soundtrack for my not-necessarily misspent yute. It's amazing how well the music holds up- it's not just the rosy glow of nostalgia.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Still Got the Chops With the Old Axe
I'm really digging the new single by Johnny Marr, nee John Maher (Monsieur Marr changed the spelling of his surname, in part, to avoid being confused with fellow Manchester musician John Maher, the drummer for The Buzzcocks). Johnny Marr, whose jangly guitar sound was one of the defining characteristics of the music of legendary 80's britpop purveyors The Smiths becames a sought-after session musician and music producer. The new single, from a soon-to-be-released album The Messenger, is pure power pop... to put it in terms of "Manchester" bands, the music is more akin sonically to the music of The Buzzcocks than that of his old band, The Smiths, a band which, sadly, was never fronted by Foghorn Leghorn. Marr's voice is not as distinctive as the warblings of his former bandmate Stephen Patrick Morrissey, but it's a credible voice for a power pop anthem:
I wonder why Monsieur Marr didn't decide to become a frontman in his own right before now, but this move is better late than never, I suppose.
I wonder why Monsieur Marr didn't decide to become a frontman in his own right before now, but this move is better late than never, I suppose.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Do You Remember When Blue Was a Feeling?
Since this is the solemn feast of St Valentine, I figure I'd quickly post a couple of romantic songs before scarpering off to have some fun on my day off. It's a gorgeous day, sunny and about 45 degrees Fahrenheit (about 7 Celsius), so I'm going to take advantage of the weather.
The post title is cribbed from the song Love is for Lovers by stalwart purveyors of smart indie pop The dB's, a band of nice boys from Winston-Salem who started their careers in NYC:
Nice, eh? It's a far cry from their tale of woe Amplifier, which narrates a despondent young man's breakup with his girlfriend, who left him with nothing but his beat-up old, you got it, amplifier.
Now, how about another earnest love song by an earnest young man? Here's Love You More by one of my all-time favorite bands, The Buzzcocks
Wow, does lead singer Pete Shelley wear his bleeding heart on his sleeve, or what? He's also great at expressing bewilderment at an attraction he's having a hard time coping with and wisely coming to terms with an unrequited love, with absolutely no rancor. I think "MRA" types should be locked in a room with the latter song blasting at full volume, so they could learn a thing or two about consent and coping with rejection.
Anyway, I put the sweet songs in the post, and the sad or wistful ones in the links. Blast 'em full volume!
Here's wishing my beloved readers a lovely Valentine's Day.
The post title is cribbed from the song Love is for Lovers by stalwart purveyors of smart indie pop The dB's, a band of nice boys from Winston-Salem who started their careers in NYC:
Nice, eh? It's a far cry from their tale of woe Amplifier, which narrates a despondent young man's breakup with his girlfriend, who left him with nothing but his beat-up old, you got it, amplifier.
Now, how about another earnest love song by an earnest young man? Here's Love You More by one of my all-time favorite bands, The Buzzcocks
Wow, does lead singer Pete Shelley wear his bleeding heart on his sleeve, or what? He's also great at expressing bewilderment at an attraction he's having a hard time coping with and wisely coming to terms with an unrequited love, with absolutely no rancor. I think "MRA" types should be locked in a room with the latter song blasting at full volume, so they could learn a thing or two about consent and coping with rejection.
Anyway, I put the sweet songs in the post, and the sad or wistful ones in the links. Blast 'em full volume!
Here's wishing my beloved readers a lovely Valentine's Day.
Thursday, January 14, 2016
Major Acquisition
In yesterday's post, I mentioned that I was preoccupied with errands this week... well, most of that time was occupied with one major errand, buying an automobile. It was time, my 2002 vintage car was getting a little tired, so I donated it to the American Diabetes Association. I was finally able to buy a small, economical 5-speed manual transmission 2013 Honda with an absurdly low odometer reading:
When I drove the car out of the dealership, it had 308 miles on it. Yeah, you read that right. The car handles nicely, I like the way it handles- the gear shift feels nice, and while not a fast car, it's a smooth ride. I've never been a leadfood at any rate. The car is small, but roomy, it' comfortable... all round, it's a sensible little ride, a perfect commuter car. I haven't named it yet, but I'm thinking of calling it Tamago-chan, or G-4 (yeah, still binge watching Science Ninja Team Gatchaman, currently at episode 69) because of the egg-like shape of the car.
Enough of my gushing over a bit of metal, glass, and plastic... how about a comical number from the Buzzcocks that's appropriate to the subject of this post?
When I drove the car out of the dealership, it had 308 miles on it. Yeah, you read that right. The car handles nicely, I like the way it handles- the gear shift feels nice, and while not a fast car, it's a smooth ride. I've never been a leadfood at any rate. The car is small, but roomy, it' comfortable... all round, it's a sensible little ride, a perfect commuter car. I haven't named it yet, but I'm thinking of calling it Tamago-chan, or G-4 (yeah, still binge watching Science Ninja Team Gatchaman, currently at episode 69) because of the egg-like shape of the car.
Enough of my gushing over a bit of metal, glass, and plastic... how about a comical number from the Buzzcocks that's appropriate to the subject of this post?
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Moshing at the Met?
Today was my day off, so I decided to head to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see the exhibit Punk: Chaos to Couture. While I enjoyed the exhibit, I have to say that it was a lot more "couture" than "chaos". Here's the press release for the exhibit.
The exhibit, situated on the second floor of the 'Met, started with a brief overview of punk's "Do It Yourself" aesthetic- an aesthetic born largely out of poverty, as slumming Lower East Siders in New York and working-class kids in England cobbled together distinctive looks out of worn clothing and found objects, forming a look which was calculated to shock middle-class sensibilities. One of the first displays featured a Vivienne Westwood designed red "parachute" tunic, paired with red bondage pants with a terrycloth drop seat. Ms Westwood, it must be noted, was one of the designers who shaped the English punk aesthetic in the 1970s, while running the boutique "SEX" with Malcolm McLaren, who went on to become the "Svengali" behind the Sex Pistols.
The next gallery focused more on the New York punk scene, including (hilariously) a mock-up of the men's bathroom of C.B.G.B.- thankfully, the exhibit did not replicate the hideous miasma which accompanied the original (let's face it, the club was a fetid hellhole, storied as it was). As there wasn't a single "fount" of fashion for the 1970's Lower East Side scenesters, this wasn't the most compelling portion of the show. The soundtrack of this part of the exhibit included snippets of such NYC classics as I Don't Wanna Go Down to the Basement.
Following on this was an exhibit of clothes sold at the various McLaren and Westwood run shops at 430 Kings Road, London. Among the infamous designs on display were the "Two Cowboys" shirt (modeled by Sid Vicious here), which was inspired by the gay fetish art of Tom of Finland, the "God Save the Queen" T-Shirt, and the "Tits" T-shirt (modeled by Steve Jones here). Additionally, there was a video filmed at the 430 King's Road shop featuring an individual completely encased in a latex bondage suit, complete with "gimp" mask. As an aside, Malcolm McLaren was fascinated by the topic of submission, and he asked the Sex Pistols to write a song about it, with hilarious results. The centerpiece of this area of the exhibit was a "compare and contrast" of the classic Westwood designs and contemporary designs inspired by the originals.
The next galleries explored four different aspects of the punk aesthetic, starting with "Hardware". This section started off with the safety pins, chains, and studs that adorned punk clothes. Johnny Rotten, in his typical blunt fashion, explained the provenance of the safety pin in punk fashion: “The arse of your pants falls out, you just use safety pins.” The exhibit featured designer clothes with gold faux safety pins, padlocks(Sid famously wore a padlock necklace), and studs.
The second aspect of the aesthetic that was explored was bricolage. This gallery featured plastic garbage- and shopping-bag dresses, and dresses made up to look like they were made out of newsprint. In this gallery, the sountrack featured snippets of Boredom by the Buzzcocks, New Rose by The Damned, and Identity by the X-Ray Spex.
The third aspect dwelt on was Graffiti and Agitprop, typified by the spray painted and stenciled jumpsuits worn by The Clash. Tragically, the soundtrack in this section of the exhibit was ambient music, no Mick, Joe, Paul, and Tory-or-Topper to be heard. Among the current examples in this section was Vivienne Westwood's "Climate Revolution" design.
The last facet of the punk aesthetic touched upon in this exhibit was titled "Destroy", and hinged on the ripped-and-reconstituted look necessitated by poverty (refer to Monsieur Rotten's quote about safety pins and the arse of his pants).
All told, I wanted to see more chaos and less couture, to hear more of the raucous music I love so well. The exhibit was good, but I probably wasn't the target audience. Anyway, here's a video featuring Vivienne Westwood in her salad days on the King's Cross Road:
It was nice to see the Met playing homage to punk, they have a heavy metal exhibit every day.
The exhibit, situated on the second floor of the 'Met, started with a brief overview of punk's "Do It Yourself" aesthetic- an aesthetic born largely out of poverty, as slumming Lower East Siders in New York and working-class kids in England cobbled together distinctive looks out of worn clothing and found objects, forming a look which was calculated to shock middle-class sensibilities. One of the first displays featured a Vivienne Westwood designed red "parachute" tunic, paired with red bondage pants with a terrycloth drop seat. Ms Westwood, it must be noted, was one of the designers who shaped the English punk aesthetic in the 1970s, while running the boutique "SEX" with Malcolm McLaren, who went on to become the "Svengali" behind the Sex Pistols.
The next gallery focused more on the New York punk scene, including (hilariously) a mock-up of the men's bathroom of C.B.G.B.- thankfully, the exhibit did not replicate the hideous miasma which accompanied the original (let's face it, the club was a fetid hellhole, storied as it was). As there wasn't a single "fount" of fashion for the 1970's Lower East Side scenesters, this wasn't the most compelling portion of the show. The soundtrack of this part of the exhibit included snippets of such NYC classics as I Don't Wanna Go Down to the Basement.
Following on this was an exhibit of clothes sold at the various McLaren and Westwood run shops at 430 Kings Road, London. Among the infamous designs on display were the "Two Cowboys" shirt (modeled by Sid Vicious here), which was inspired by the gay fetish art of Tom of Finland, the "God Save the Queen" T-Shirt, and the "Tits" T-shirt (modeled by Steve Jones here). Additionally, there was a video filmed at the 430 King's Road shop featuring an individual completely encased in a latex bondage suit, complete with "gimp" mask. As an aside, Malcolm McLaren was fascinated by the topic of submission, and he asked the Sex Pistols to write a song about it, with hilarious results. The centerpiece of this area of the exhibit was a "compare and contrast" of the classic Westwood designs and contemporary designs inspired by the originals.
The next galleries explored four different aspects of the punk aesthetic, starting with "Hardware". This section started off with the safety pins, chains, and studs that adorned punk clothes. Johnny Rotten, in his typical blunt fashion, explained the provenance of the safety pin in punk fashion: “The arse of your pants falls out, you just use safety pins.” The exhibit featured designer clothes with gold faux safety pins, padlocks(Sid famously wore a padlock necklace), and studs.
The second aspect of the aesthetic that was explored was bricolage. This gallery featured plastic garbage- and shopping-bag dresses, and dresses made up to look like they were made out of newsprint. In this gallery, the sountrack featured snippets of Boredom by the Buzzcocks, New Rose by The Damned, and Identity by the X-Ray Spex.
The third aspect dwelt on was Graffiti and Agitprop, typified by the spray painted and stenciled jumpsuits worn by The Clash. Tragically, the soundtrack in this section of the exhibit was ambient music, no Mick, Joe, Paul, and Tory-or-Topper to be heard. Among the current examples in this section was Vivienne Westwood's "Climate Revolution" design.
The last facet of the punk aesthetic touched upon in this exhibit was titled "Destroy", and hinged on the ripped-and-reconstituted look necessitated by poverty (refer to Monsieur Rotten's quote about safety pins and the arse of his pants).
All told, I wanted to see more chaos and less couture, to hear more of the raucous music I love so well. The exhibit was good, but I probably wasn't the target audience. Anyway, here's a video featuring Vivienne Westwood in her salad days on the King's Cross Road:
It was nice to see the Met playing homage to punk, they have a heavy metal exhibit every day.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Wee Weekend Woes
This weekend has been pretty crazy, with a lot of little things going wrong. First of all, a couple of our Friday night fundraisers were canceled because of predicted thunderstorms, while a third indoor fundraiser proceeded as usual. Our outdoor events wouldn't be fun if someone were fried by a lightning strike or creamed by a falling tree limb. What's with the culinary metaphors?
I popped by my primary jobsite to get the company cell phone from my co-worker before working the overnight at another site. When I arrived he told me that he had gotten into confrontations with two belligerent groups of people who hadn't received confirmation of the cancellation. The first was with a family of New Jersey cafoni, a foul-mouthed woman and her college-aged phony Soprano son. From what I heard, they were using profane, abusive language in front of families with small children and sonny-boy was making threats. One of our shop attendants, a nice, genteel woman, was ready to press the store panic button to summon the local constabulary, but my co-worker was able to convey to them the fact that the police would love nothing better than to arrest them. The second confrontation was with a guy who was somehow able to buy tickets to the event after it had been canceled, but he backed down from his initial angry stance when my co-worker, keyed up from the first confrontation, told him not to cause trouble, and that he would get his refund processed automatically. Most guys don't want anything more than a pissing contest- the fact that my larger co-worker clearly wasn't impressed by this guy's aggressive stance disarmed the guy, and he left without escalating. Another fact, most dudes don't want to get decked in front of their girlfriends, especially when the police will probably take the side of the guy who decked them.
After hearing of his woes, I told him that I could take over if he wanted to go to the site I was originally heading to so he could take a breather. The site is closer to his home, and all that needed to be done was locking up the buildings and arming the alarm system. We had a couple of contract security guys on site, but they don't have the keys and codes necessary for shutting the place. I had a couple of people showing up to find that our event had been canceled, but everybody was polite.
I then received a call from the co-worker I had relieved- one of the IT guys managed to get his key stuck in the lock of one of the buildings, one housing critically important equipment. After locking up the site I was working at, I had to travel up there to attempt to extract the key. I was unable to do so, and I ceased my efforts with PB Blaster and pliers because I didn't want to snap the key off in the lock. Because the building couldn't be properly locked, I remained there until shortly before the end of the shift, then returned to my primary jobsite to return phone and pliers, and to feed the cats. Yeah, you know who the real bosses are. One of the guys on the day shift was able to extract the thing.
I finally got home around a quarter to seven and decided that going to sleep really wasn't a good idea, so I showered, drank a large cup of coffee, and headed down to NYC for my volunteer coaching gig. When I got to the 238th St Station on the "1" line, there was no service- it was weird, they were giving out "Service Block" vouchers, which I had never seen before. I decided that my best option would be to walk down to the end of the "A" train line, which is 207th St. It was a gorgeous morning, so I really didn't mind the 31 block walk, but I arrived late, about midway between our first class. We had two other classes, including our huge (forty students) six-to-eight year old girls' group. They are a very fun group to work with, and I still crack up whenever a particular girl, a very serious looking bespectacled six-year old, insists that she wants to fight me. These kids are not timorous around the big toughs at all, and they are well-behaved and competent enough to actually throw each other with o soto gari already- we have them do five uchikomi and let them throw on the fifth one. Needless to say, I'm very proud of this particular class.
I didn't get an opportunity to nap before returning to work on Saturday afternoon, but after closing up everything, I caught two-hours of shuteye before heading over to work another site for the overnight. For the most part, things went smoothly, but some knucklehead locked the cover of one of the rented tower lights that we use in our parking areas (for some reason, the padlocks are left open, which drives me up a tree because some idiot can lock them or, worse, walk off with them), so, not having a key to the rented unit, I was forced to leave the damn thing running all night, after texting my department head about the situation at a quarter-to-one in the morning. Yeah, I try to avoid that sort of thing, but CYA is an important motto to have in mind.
I was finally able to get some sleep today, but the drive to the afternoon shift was a hassle- two idiots got into a fender bender on the highway and, even though their cars didn't look too banged up, they didn't pull over to the shoulder- instead they were positioned diagonally across two lanes of traffic. Idiots. To compound matters, my temperature gauge started to climb while I was sitting in traffic, which is not the best feeling in the world. I was able to top off the coolant in the radiator after everybody else left this evening, I'm hoping there's no additional problem... my mechanic is a good guy, I just don't want to hand all of my overtime pay to him.
In a short while, I have to head over to the other jobsite to cover the overnight shift. While the hours are a bit jacked up, it's great to see all of my co-workers. Last night, I was happy to hear one of the guys on the day shift (the guy who extracted the IT guy's key) call me "part of the bedrock" of the organization. It's the little things that have been going wrong, but in the grand scheme of things, I can't really complain. Hopefully, tonight will be free of minor annoyances.
At any rate, the theme song for this weekend is by one of my favorite bands, Manchester's Buzzcocks:
I've always loved this song, it so perfectly captures the everyday muff-ups that are so vexing, and it's funny as hell: Nothing ever happens to people like us, 'cept we miss the bus. Yeah, I know the feeling.
I popped by my primary jobsite to get the company cell phone from my co-worker before working the overnight at another site. When I arrived he told me that he had gotten into confrontations with two belligerent groups of people who hadn't received confirmation of the cancellation. The first was with a family of New Jersey cafoni, a foul-mouthed woman and her college-aged phony Soprano son. From what I heard, they were using profane, abusive language in front of families with small children and sonny-boy was making threats. One of our shop attendants, a nice, genteel woman, was ready to press the store panic button to summon the local constabulary, but my co-worker was able to convey to them the fact that the police would love nothing better than to arrest them. The second confrontation was with a guy who was somehow able to buy tickets to the event after it had been canceled, but he backed down from his initial angry stance when my co-worker, keyed up from the first confrontation, told him not to cause trouble, and that he would get his refund processed automatically. Most guys don't want anything more than a pissing contest- the fact that my larger co-worker clearly wasn't impressed by this guy's aggressive stance disarmed the guy, and he left without escalating. Another fact, most dudes don't want to get decked in front of their girlfriends, especially when the police will probably take the side of the guy who decked them.
After hearing of his woes, I told him that I could take over if he wanted to go to the site I was originally heading to so he could take a breather. The site is closer to his home, and all that needed to be done was locking up the buildings and arming the alarm system. We had a couple of contract security guys on site, but they don't have the keys and codes necessary for shutting the place. I had a couple of people showing up to find that our event had been canceled, but everybody was polite.
I then received a call from the co-worker I had relieved- one of the IT guys managed to get his key stuck in the lock of one of the buildings, one housing critically important equipment. After locking up the site I was working at, I had to travel up there to attempt to extract the key. I was unable to do so, and I ceased my efforts with PB Blaster and pliers because I didn't want to snap the key off in the lock. Because the building couldn't be properly locked, I remained there until shortly before the end of the shift, then returned to my primary jobsite to return phone and pliers, and to feed the cats. Yeah, you know who the real bosses are. One of the guys on the day shift was able to extract the thing.
I finally got home around a quarter to seven and decided that going to sleep really wasn't a good idea, so I showered, drank a large cup of coffee, and headed down to NYC for my volunteer coaching gig. When I got to the 238th St Station on the "1" line, there was no service- it was weird, they were giving out "Service Block" vouchers, which I had never seen before. I decided that my best option would be to walk down to the end of the "A" train line, which is 207th St. It was a gorgeous morning, so I really didn't mind the 31 block walk, but I arrived late, about midway between our first class. We had two other classes, including our huge (forty students) six-to-eight year old girls' group. They are a very fun group to work with, and I still crack up whenever a particular girl, a very serious looking bespectacled six-year old, insists that she wants to fight me. These kids are not timorous around the big toughs at all, and they are well-behaved and competent enough to actually throw each other with o soto gari already- we have them do five uchikomi and let them throw on the fifth one. Needless to say, I'm very proud of this particular class.
I didn't get an opportunity to nap before returning to work on Saturday afternoon, but after closing up everything, I caught two-hours of shuteye before heading over to work another site for the overnight. For the most part, things went smoothly, but some knucklehead locked the cover of one of the rented tower lights that we use in our parking areas (for some reason, the padlocks are left open, which drives me up a tree because some idiot can lock them or, worse, walk off with them), so, not having a key to the rented unit, I was forced to leave the damn thing running all night, after texting my department head about the situation at a quarter-to-one in the morning. Yeah, I try to avoid that sort of thing, but CYA is an important motto to have in mind.
I was finally able to get some sleep today, but the drive to the afternoon shift was a hassle- two idiots got into a fender bender on the highway and, even though their cars didn't look too banged up, they didn't pull over to the shoulder- instead they were positioned diagonally across two lanes of traffic. Idiots. To compound matters, my temperature gauge started to climb while I was sitting in traffic, which is not the best feeling in the world. I was able to top off the coolant in the radiator after everybody else left this evening, I'm hoping there's no additional problem... my mechanic is a good guy, I just don't want to hand all of my overtime pay to him.
In a short while, I have to head over to the other jobsite to cover the overnight shift. While the hours are a bit jacked up, it's great to see all of my co-workers. Last night, I was happy to hear one of the guys on the day shift (the guy who extracted the IT guy's key) call me "part of the bedrock" of the organization. It's the little things that have been going wrong, but in the grand scheme of things, I can't really complain. Hopefully, tonight will be free of minor annoyances.
At any rate, the theme song for this weekend is by one of my favorite bands, Manchester's Buzzcocks:
I've always loved this song, it so perfectly captures the everyday muff-ups that are so vexing, and it's funny as hell: Nothing ever happens to people like us, 'cept we miss the bus. Yeah, I know the feeling.
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