Sexy People is a blog that celebrates the perfect portrait. I wish I had a scanner so I could put up my ridiculously perfect portraits.

When I touring in Oregon we played an outside show at the bottom of a small mountain. We had some time to kill so the drummer and I climbed the mountain. It wasn’t a mountain mountain, it was fairly grassy, but deceptively steep. Close to the top we found an old rickety abandoned cabin. The floor was littered with National Geographics from the ages. Amongst the mess I found a perfect portrait. It was of an unattractive girl wearing her basketball uniform holding a ball. She had the frizziest hair ever, it even dwarfed the basketball. Anyways, I obviously kept the portrait and put it up on the passenger’s visor in the van. I named her Andrea. A few hours later this guy from the show was talking to us by the van. He noticed the picture and I told him she was my girlfriend from back home. He didn’t miss a beat and sincerely told me she was really hot. I know, it wasn’t a great story, but I really miss Andrea and I still wonder who stole my picture of her.

This last one is one of my favorites.

UPDATE!!!

ANDREA HAS BEEN FOUND!!!

Thanks Josh. I guess her hair wasn’t so frizzy, and she kind of has an Andre the Giant face.

I first heard Oberon Zell on Coast to Coast AM talking about his book “A Wizard’s Bestiary” almost a year ago. The book is a pretty neat idea, he takes all the mystical and cryptozoological creatures and figures out how the myths started and if any of them were actually real. Turns out unicorns were real, but not in the sense we think of them today.

Unicorns aren’t born that way, nature won’t let that happen. Even the Narwhal, although awesome, isn’t a real unicorn. A unicorn is an animal that can grow 2 horns and goes through a unicorning process.

In 1933 Dr. Franklin Dove did some research and found out that horns do not grow out of the skull, but they actually start out as unattached tissue and then root into the skull as the animal grows. Since this is the case all one needs to do is surgically take the buds of a newborn and place them in the middle of the head in such a way that they grow into each other. Once this happens, if done right, they will cancel each other’s natural curvature thus producing a perfectly straight horn.

If you haven’t figured it out already, Mr. Oberon Zell is a wizard. An awesome looking wizard. One of the earliest instances of unicorns he came across in his research were the Unicorn Tapestries from over 500 years ago. If you’ll look closely you’ll notice that the unicorns aren’t the horses of today’s pop culture, but they actually have goatees and hooves like a goat. After he came across Dr. Franklin Dove’s work, and being knowledgeable in biology and having some pre-med under his belt he decided to try it for himself. It worked, and he even went so far as to go through the patent process. During the 80’s he toured the country showing off his unicorns at Ren-Fairs, sideshows, and even the Ringling Bros. circus for 4 years. If you’d like to read more there’s an interview with him here about unicorns, and how the process changes the animal’s temperament. Unfortunately he doesn’t make unicorns anymore and the last one died a few years ago. I sure wish someone would take up the call, make an army of unicorned bulls, and set them loose during the running of the bulls.

Fash·ion [fash-uhn] Pronunciation Key –noun
1. a prevailing custom or style of dress, etiquette, socializing, etc.: the latest fashion in dresses.
2. conventional usage in dress, manners, etc., esp. of polite society, or conformity to it: the dictates of fashion; to be out of fashion.
–verb (used with object)

Having worked in and around the world of Haute Couture (High Fashion) for a good 6 years now,I consider myself acquainted.

Alas, the more I learn, the less I wish I knew.

Yes, folks I do believe the Honeymoon is over and that if a few changes are not made soon…
divorce papers may be signed.

First off, take the fact that most of the clothing brands your average American has access to and can afford are sewn in sweat shops by tiny children in third world countries.

YES! Guess, Abercrombie and Fitch, Calvin Kline, Forever 21, Victoria’s Secret, Target, Old Navy and Banana Republic are a mere handful of names on the long list.

for more info on such dreadful matters visit www.sweatshopwatch.org

Now, multiply that by idea that there is no true middle ground between the cheaply sweat shop made ‘Ready to Wear’ garments (1.clothing made in standard sizes; ready-made clothing ) and pocket book emptying one of a kind ‘Couture’ pieces (1.high fashion; the most fashionable and influential dressmaking and designing ).

that’s right, except for a very select few exceptions to the rule (which i am currently working on compiling a list of) the fashion forward young person of today must make one of two choices when purchasing a brand new garment.

1. Buy a moderately cute but horribly sewn inexpensive garment at say Forever 21 (I like to call this “disposable clothing” the garment equivalent to a tampon due to the fact that it will most likely fall apart after one wear and wash) and support the mistreatment of fellow humans at the same time.

or

2. Take out a loan and skip eating out and other social outings like movies and bowling for a few years in order to purchase an exquisite hand made dress by Christian Lacroix but chances are you may be accused of looking like an escapee from the its a small world Disneyland ride if you are caught wearing it out.

You also have the problem of how shallow and competitive this industry is.
Jobs in fashion are all who you know and not how talented you are and even if by chance you do get your foot in the door of one of the major companies most of the fun and creative side has been taken out and replaced with pure business and many a rule and regulation. How can we create a product for as cheep as we possibly can and mark it up as much as possible?
Not fun. Not interesting. Not ethical.

I am not going to even get into the horrible stereotypes fueled by the greedy fashion industry that start even in grade school.
comments like “Did you see her shoes?” or “Is that a faux Chanel bag she is carrying?”
are yet another hurdle our youth have to overcome to feel “accepted” or “normal”.

DISCLAIMER-

I am by no means telling you to avoid trying to look “cool” or shopping at the normal places you go to find that last minute dress you really need for the office Christmas party. I myself on occasion do darken the doors of several of the clothing chains that I previously mentioned. I personally believe that one must feel 100% conviction about something in order to properly boycott it and boycotting is not convenient in the busy fast paced country we live in.

We can do a whole lot more good in this world by finding and creating alternatives for the things we disagree with rather than standing outside businesses with signs and yelling at all who pass by.

That being said, here are a few positive things you can do to counteract all of the horrible things that go on behind the scenes of the world of fashion

• Be Creative Enough To Re-Invent The Clothes You Already Own

instead of reading to cheesy shopping magazines like Lucky that just make you want to BUY BUY BUY I would rather refer to The sartorialist and see what REAL people all over the globe are actually wearing on the streets. It is always visually inspiring, never boring and I usually come away with ideas of how to put pieces together that have been sitting in my closet forever in a whole new way.

• Buy Vintage and Thrift

It takes a little more time and yes your hands usually smell a little funny after sorting through chaotic racks of old clothes for a few hours but you are doing amazing things for the environment and mankind and chances are you will NEVER run into another girl with the same crazy floral print dress. You will be random, fashionable relevant, avant garde and one of a kind all wrapped up in one.

• Support Your Local Designers

Look into who the local designers are in your city. When starting out, young up and coming designers often have a hard time charging the money they want to get for their pieces due to the fact that no one has heard of them. Help them get their name out there by wearing their pieces and in turn you get great deals on exclusive clothing and a chance to be a little different. There are also scores of designers with merchandise available on the Internet take Jared Gold’s Black Chandelier line for example. Both inexpensive and interesting.

• Give Clothes That You Don’t Wear to Charities

Why throw things away when you can help others.
If you do not know of any local trustworthy charities to give to visit www.justgive.org

• Take a Sewing Class

If you have the spare time and the interest you should take the basic sewing class at your local fabric store even if all you desire to do is alter the fabulous things you find at the salvation army or take those old boot cut jeans that still fit and make them skinny jeans in just a few minutes.
If this is a little over your head, i suggest getting in touch with the college nearest you that has a design program. Fashion students need both experience and cash and will take in or let out things for much less than any alterations shop.

• Barter and Trade

So you are an amazing cook and your friend Erica can sew
Erica’s boyfriends parents are coming over for dinner and she is petrified. She always burns everything! You can cook a fabulous meal for her and in turn she will make that adorable high-wasted skirt with all the buttons you’ve been talking about for a month now.
bring back the bartering system. It is artsy and cool.
-

1. The first thing you need for a killer picnic is great food. You want to bring something light and somewhat portable since you will be carrying it to and eating it in a park or other outdoor area. Our menu consisted of sandwiches (Curried Chicken on Spicy White Pepper-Jack Bread), plums, and a dry Riesling wine. For the sanwiches we used the cookbook Beautiful Breads & Fabulous Fillings and referenced the book Beard on Bread for help baking the bread. For wine coupling I usually refer to The Wine Bible or, if you live in Nashville, you can go to The Wine Shoppe at Green Hills and tell them what you are having; they always have great advice.

2. Next you will need some gear. I recommend a picnic basket, or a reasonable equivalent, and a quilt. You also need paper plates, plastic forks, and if you will be having wine, wine glasses and a device to open it. I recommend purchasing a 2-Step Waiter’s Corkscrew. If you live in Nashville you can get one at Harris Teeter.

3. Finally, bring a camera, then you can document your awesome food.

I saw Girl Talk perform in Nashville six years ago. It happened by accident; My boss at the time told me that he read about some electronic music show happening downtown at the Ruby Green and wanted to know if I was interested in going. Around that time in my life, I was getting pretty used to sneaking in and out of shows around town, seeing a lot of horrid, pretentious rock bands, and meeting handfuls of dudes who get high and talk about all of the sweet jams they’re going to make. I spent a lot of time taking classes and making little records in my bedroom. I felt a real affinity for pretty much anything that wasn’t considered normal; I was keeping busy making the musical equivalent to pencil sharpeners and rumble grumbles, while basically looking for a scene that wasn’t so uptight.

The Ruby Green is an art gallery in Nashville and that night was my first time being there. It was full of maybe fifty or so kids running the entire gamut of personality and culture. The show took place in the main gallery space, which was mostly empty except for a giant ball of spiral wound phone cord hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room, directly over a giant pile of phone receivers. The show was billed as an electronic music tour, dubbed the Wheels of Steel Tour, as all of those performing were from Pittsburgh, PA, one of the major steel producing cities in the country. The first act was a girl with a keytar who hooked it up with a little computer and proceeded to gyrate around to what was, essentially, horrible white noise. At first this was sort of amusing; you really had to give her credit for really going for it, but it was pretty awkward. Then it became pretty obvious, transitioning from song to song, that this was her thing and that she was going to be doing it for longer than two awkward minutes. The rest of those performing followed suit.

As the night furthered along, we found ourselves inching toward the exit until we were pretty much standing in the lobby of the place, which is when I realized I was standing next to a little scrawny guy in a jumpsuit named Gregg, or Girl Talk.

His first record, which I didn’t buy and haven’t heard, was out that year. It was about four years before his benchmark record, the Night Ripper, was to become the heralded new face of Plunderphonics (which we’ll get into in a minute) and party jam monster mixes for everyone from The New Yorker to Pitchfork Media. As I’m standing there with this dude (who is, admittedly, a pretty nice guy) it’s not really making me any less focused on leaving. I’ve had it with all of this creepy weirdness and I’m tired. Someone up front with the PA has started to play Van Halen, which makes me want to leave even more; in addition to that, I am now struggling with the fact that this dude in the jumpsuit is now putting on a headband and wristbands and taking off most of his clothes– the end result essentially being the look that I used to rock when I played basketball for the Catholic League in 1989. He’s clearly getting pumped up; like really, really pumped up. He’s in the zone. People are starting to clear him a path.

The whole thing turns into the slow clap moment at the end of Lucas.

The little dude, looking pretty determined, races to the front of the room (to his laptop), where he proceeds to shoot rainbow magic out of the speakers like lightning bolts from the able hands of Party Zeus on a Friday night before a three day weekend. There is really nothing that could have prepared me for what he was doing; it was like someone took the radio and shook it like you would shake a maraca before smacking you in the back of the head with it. His music presents itself as a casey casem cut and paste ‘where’s waldo’ jigsaw puzzle.

The crowd, having been prepared for this by the stevie nicks of white noise experimental keytarists, seemed a little confused. It was a lot like sleeping for 15 hours straight before having someone unload a dump truck full of alarm clocks on your face. And I was sold.

Fast forward five years to the Cannery Ballroom in Nashville. I’m standing inside and it’s really hot and already I’m sort of pissed because I hate the Cannery and there’s some dude in an Old Navy visor standing next to me and he’s drunk. I have the worst luck with Old Navy visor dudes, and tonight, there are lots of them at the Cannery. There’s lots of every type of girl and boy at the Cannery tonight; the place is packed from wall to wall. I have no idea what the capacity is there, but it feels like they’ve hit it. The stage is full of balloons and in the wings there’s a little dude wearing a hoodie, drinking a beer and holding a laptop.

It’s Gregg.

Looking back at the Girl Talk timeline, you realize that Night Ripper obviously did a lot of things. Girl Talk is a prime example of a performer who excels because of blogs, who does so without any major advertising. This is becoming more and more common, despite what your local record label owning, private equity firm wants you to think. The record buyer has changed, advertising has changed, and all of it continues to keep changing, which is why 400 people are crammed into the Cannery, spilling beer on one another, waiting to see a Plunderphonics DJ with no light show, no backing band, and, arguably, no music of his own.

You could argue that Girl Talk put Plunderphonics, or ‘making music out of other people’s music,’ on the mainstream map almost two decades after John Oswald coined the term, but I feel like that’s less important than the cultural and social implications of his work. Wikipedia, which has compiled an incomplete chronological list of samples for each Girl Talk track on the new album, lists samples from 23 different songs in the first track alone. For tracks on the Night Ripper, they point out that some of the sampled material comes tracks where the original artist sampled someone else:

[ “Summer in the City” by Quincy Jones + “Are You Experienced?” by Jimi Hendrix = “Passing Me By” by the Pharcyde, used by Girl Talk on “Smash Your Head”]

This is where Gillis eclipses the academic work of John Oswald; Girl Talk’s central motivation is not to outsmart anybody. He’s essentially making the greatest mixtape ever created, and not because it’s got your favorite TI song over your Mom’s favorite Tiny Tim song, but because it captures what mainstream culture is all about: turnover. Music sales overall were down 25% last year compared to the year before. Physical product is down 20% while internet sales are up 50%, yet the business is still losing revenue. You don’t technically need a slide ruler to figure out that people aren’t buying cds in stores anymore. They aren’t responding to radio or to ads like they used to; and the people who are buying music are online. They’re reading their email, talking to people, reading websites (like this one), and buying the new Lil Wayne single for a dollar on itunes; chances are they’re on their computer, and they’re talking to someone or watching tv, or making dinner, etc, so on and so forth. Keeping this in mind, after you download your new Lil Wayne jam, put it in itunes and on your ipod, about how long will you listen to it before you’re back on itunes, buying more new singles to listen to?

It’s cyclical. Music today has an extremely high turnover rate. It doesn’t matter if you like Top 40 or if you’re digging through crates in the back of Grimey’s, chances are whatever you find will lose replay value as soon as you hear it. This is why Girl Talk and his Plunderphonics bonanza won with the metropolitan Cannery crowd in the same way that he wins with most every crowd: if you don’t like the song the band is playing, wait two seconds, and you’ll get a new one. His records and shows last about an hour. The last record was released as mp3s as soon as he was finished with it. The whole thing comes with all of the bells and whistles, not too fast and not too slow, but just fast enough to simultaneously keep you from being bored and overwhelmed, which is why, in the end, I think Gillis is capitalizing less on the music he’s pilfering than the audience he’s entertaining.

By the end of the Cannery show, everyone was tired and coated in sweat and beer, Old Navy visor dude punched my friend Ben’s sister in the head two or three times with his drunken dance moves, and the stage had been completely dismantled. The helium in the balloons had allowed them to be strewn around the room, clinging to the ceiling as if they were trying to escape the animals below- everyone following Gillis, the Pied Piper of Plunderphonics.

Feed the Animals by Girl Talk is out now on Illegal Art.

Basically, postcolonial theory looks at racial and cultural bias towards a conquering element or against a dominated element in a text. I started thinking about Jungle Book in these terms originally because of Rudyard Kipling’s involvement with India as a British colony, and Disney’s tendency to say horrible things in the undertones of their movies. Also, I quite like Jungle Book, and I was just curious to see what I found in it that six-year-old me did not. Before I go into the postcolonial side of things, I would like to note how unashamedly horrible and hilarious the little girl’s song at the end of the film is. I remember hating it when I was a kid, I thought because it was slow instead of the jazz/beat inspired music of the rest of the film, but I think my subconscious was also reacting to the words: “When I’m grown/ I will have a handsome husband/ And a daughter of my own/ And I’ll send her to fetch the water/ I’ll be cooking in the home.” I just thought I’d share that because it’s ridiculous to have a whole song about, even if it was the state of Indian women at some unknown time in animated history.

Though I started the film intending to focus on the story, what jumped out to me instead were the choices in characterization and voicing that Disney made for the different animals. Almost all of the animals are voiced by British actors, with varying degrees of “Britishness” to their accents. The story is set in India, so this is initially bizarre considering that the filmmakers decided not to use standard American English (as they did in Mulan, which is set in China). Even if they were set on depicting character by accents, they did not use an Indian English accent, which would seem most appropriate for most of the characters. This aids in seeing some themes in the movie, as well as comments on the choice of the filmmakers to cast it this way.

The story seems to be centered on the idea that the Tiger’s opinion of how to treat Mowgli differs from the rest of the Jungle’s, but because he is the tiger, they have to give up their beliefs in favor of his position. They appear to be depicting a system of oppression where a minority’s (the tiger) opinion on the world causes everyone else to stop what they’re doing and deal with it or face consequences. Shere Kahn, of course, gets what is coming to him (delivered by an American bear, I might point out), and leaves the Jungle apparently forever (the vultures say they’ll never have to deal with him again). Ultimately it is Mowgli, a sort of symbol of the oppression of the jungle, who gets rid of him, with the help of the American bear and the British-expatriate ¹panther.

There is much to be said for the symbolism in the story itself, a lot of which I actually had to go ahead and write to get out of my system before I got to this. But though the story seems to paint a picture in support of freedom from imperial oppression, the lack of nationality and representation of Indians when the story clearly has reason to include them indicates a problem either with the casting directors or the prospective audience of the film. There are no Indian accents, even in Mowgli or the girl, who both have American accents for no apparent reason other than to create kinship between them and the American children in the audience. While the film seems to depict with it’s story the successful liberation of an oppressed jungle, it seems that the only way to depict this was to attribute success to Americans, and to a lesser degree, other white British people. The only African American voices are the monkeys, another set of bad guys, and not bad in the sense of Shere Kahn, who has different beliefs and is a sort of political extremist, but bad in the sense of amoral, rough kidnappers with intent to exploit and do away with the man cub. Further, the monkeys speak jive or use the diction of swingers (no pun intended) instead of hardworking, common dialects, alienating them as some kind of dangerous, edgy fringe group or counter-cultural movement. There is clearly a preference for the white outlook, specifically the white western-European value system. Perhaps the insinuation is that the native people could not achieve success on their own, or that if they did, they would be following American ideals of independence and freedom, and thus be more like white members of civilized society than natives who cannot speak proper English.

Another possibility is the prospect of an American audience who would not relate to the “foreign” Indian accent. This is different from the British accent, which is common in mainstream American film and television and even carries an insinuation of higher intelligence and refinement. It does seem probable that if there were Indian accents in the film, the audience would notice them as different, where the only British accent that is distinct is Shere Kahn’s, and as a child I remember perceiving it not as a British, but as an intelligent and powerful accent. So the problem could be with the audience’s perception of an “other,” where the other is not a fellow western hemisphere Caucasian, but a brown easterner, or even “Why does he talk that funny way? What kind of accent is that?” I imagine it would have been my first encounter with an Indian accent, and probably my last until I was allowed to watch The Simpsons.

Based on the themes of the plot, Jungle Book seems to be an example of an author intending to convey one idea, which is undermined by the author’s culture and experience. What is interesting in this case is the idea that the undermining subtext could be caused by marketing, which I would guess happens very often in the consumerism-art relationship. It also shows the applicability of these theories to all art and creation, including children-oriented film, books, and art. A bit scary, but being a child in a world that creates all these subtexts in the first place is also scary.

1. I call Bagheera the expatriate instead of the oppressor like Shere Kahn because, though he is similar in species to Shere Kahn and though his accent is a British one, it is not as pronounced as the tiger’s and he has sympathy for the opinion of the wolves that Mowgli is not dangerous. He is, however, the strongest supporter of Mowgli going back to the man village, the closest opinion to that of Shere Kahn, which seems to link him to British citizens sympathizing with the native “them,” in this case, Indians or wolves.

]]> http://www.readtheloop.com/2008/06/jungle-book-theory/feed/ http://www.readtheloop.com/2008/05/free-jams/ http://www.readtheloop.com/2008/05/free-jams/#comments Tue, 27 May 2008 19:28:47 +0000 Aimee Shiree http://www.readtheloop.com/?p=204

i’m going to make a website this weekend and start posting all of the songs i’ve ever made ever on it. it’s going to be the comprehensive putay song catalog. everything will be available to download. it’ll all be free. and after that i’m going to post everything new that i do as well. i’m taking all of the terrible pressures of commerce out of making jams.
no sweats. - Matt Pusti

Matt Pusti makes some of my favorite music in the universe. He’s also making my music some of my favorite music in the universe.

Matt’s obsession with noise laces his hefty electronic music with subtle delicacies no one should be forced to live without.  You may know him as “Makeup and Vanity Set” … RIP.

After some initial difficulty¹, Matt has put up a website of his ‘jams.’ Do yourself a favor and check it out.

1. In matt’s tumblr blog, he cites the following areas of difficulty

1 the amount of songs versus how much webspace i have is sort of an issue. it’s a lot of jams. 2 writing out all of the code for the links will probably take me forever and i really didn’t have any time to do it this weekend. 3 the last makeup and vanity set record was (is) technically supposed to be released on matt and paul’s cassette tape label, so i’m sort of hesistant to put that online since i committed to releasing it with them.

I biked about 20 miles on Sunday.  I went to the theater to hang out with Jesse Wayne in the AM, went home (6.2 miles).  Soon after that I biked to good will to find a suede skirt I could turn into a Native American inspired costume for this not-so-PC Cowboys and Indians party.  Not only did I find the skirt, but this dude fell in love with my bike and told me how awesome it was and how he wishes he had one just like it.  Almost 8 miles later, I returned home.  That brings us to approximately 14 miles.  When I got home I went out again

to Borders, Walgreens, Scarlet Begonia, etc. (2 more miles).  That night I went to a pool party at this famous guitar shaped pool.  That was another couple miles…4 miles more.

Monday, I felt great. No pain or anguish in the least.   I wrote about the first horrible feelings on Sunday on my tumblr, but that was about the only difficulty I encountered.  I’m still not going to bike to work! This time I really do have a root canal to contend with.

I guess it will have to be Friday, weather permitting.

I’m starting to feel like a real loser for not having ridden my bike to work yet. Everyday someone in the office asks, “did you ride here today?” I’m getting really sick of having to say no. I’ve always got a bunch of semi good excuses, like “it’s 400 degrees out and I have to go to the dentist at lunch” or “I need to go to tutor 40 minutes away right after work” or “we’ve got practice and I have my guitar” or BLAH BLAH BLAH!

Anyway, next week I am going to make it happen if it’s the last thing I do. All 8.5 miles. I’m supposed to get my sweet chrome rack and basket in today and that will help me for sure. I definitely need a lot of water to be readily available and I’m super tired of the backpack scene. I’m going to give myself 2 hours the first time to avoid any feeling of stress whatsoever.

Maybe I should just get a Wii Fit… but then I’d have to get a Wii. I’m a little nervous about how 1984¹ the whole scene is too. I guess I’ll give the biking a fair shake before I go the route of being watched by Big Brother.

1. In Orwell’s book, an exercise instructor wakes everyone up at the same time and they have to do all kinds of stretches and work outs via a creepy two way screen, a mandatory fixture in every home.

G’day mate. No worries. Throw another shrimp on the barbie…
Can you guess where I come from? Now, first of all, we don’t say shrimp - we say prawn. Fosters beer is not the beer of choice in Australia; it was actually exported because we wouldn’t drink the stuff. Kangaroos are prolific, but generally not in the middle of a town or city. And we don’t all have a penchant for wrestling crocodiles.

But those things aside, having lived in Nashville for 10 months, the differences between the two cultures has been a lot more contrasting than one might think. One western country is the same as another right? Here a few things lost in trans-pacificism …

Coffee
I think I have spent the first 9 months sub consciously looking for a decent coffee. Now let me clarify, Coffee is a big social thing in Australia second only to going down the pub. A lot of evenings the choice was between the two, depending on how talkative we wanted to be and if there were decent bands playing at the Cambo (pronounced Came-bo - short for The Cambridge Hotel). But the differences don’t stop there.

When I say “let’s go out for coffee” I think of a rich espresso shot with a 1/3 of steamed milk and 1/3 of steamed milk froth at a street side cafe. No it doesn’t have caramel in it, or whipped cream on top and it’s not some black murky stuff that I put a half milk half cream mixture into. It’s a coffee. In the end I managed to score a small but free espresso machine and consoled myself by making my own meagre replicas.
When I was first here I asked for a cappuccino at a local Starbucks and was asked how many shots I wanted. I replied “one,” (because I’d already had a coffee earlier) to which the lady serving me replied, “No this is espresso.” Bewildered, I agreed and drank the very milky and tasteless drink. On another occasion a young hipster working at what I thought would be the best coffee house in the mall I was in asked me if I wanted my cappuccino wet or dry. Confused I asked what this meant. In the end I politely asked him to make it to a ratio of thirds. This time it was a little better. So after 9 months I ended up stopping by a coffee house that a friend recommended in the West end. Thank goodness - my coffee disillusionment was debunked and I sat down and had one of the best coffees in a long time.

Beer & Spirits
I love beer and wine and enjoy the odd spirit every now and then. Let me also say that beer plays a big part in the Australian culture -a fact which we most probably derive from our British, Irish and Scottish roots. The thing that astounded me on my first visit state side was the sheer cheapness of the amber ale. Where at a bottle-o (bottle shop) in North East Sydney, you’d pay $14 for a six of domestic beer over here I can pick me up 12 cans of Natty Ice … well you get the picture. I will just throw in that Toohey’s New (most popular NSW domestic beer) is a darn shade tastier than Natty Ice which I’ve been known to temper with a shot of cranberry juice concentrate -to make it a little more palatable.

Tipping
This is something that was completely foreign to me. Tipping is for days when you’re feeling happy and it is quite out of the ordinary in Aust. I’ve grown accustomed to it to a degree. One thing that I do still do shirk at is tipping bar staff. You’ve poured me a beer - good job - but I can’t justify giving you a dollar for the effort. I obviously need a little more persuasion.

Parking lots
Another strange custom (and I have been told that this is a southern thing) is etiquette in the parking lot. Back home if you walk in front of a car that’s maneuvering the car park you’ll either end up under the car, coping a “one-fingered-salute” and some verbal abuse or, if you run across someone whose overly polite, they’ll wave you through. I have stood in the parking lot looking a little lost as a hulking SUV’s driver waits for me to cross. I thought you bought an SUV for the express purpose of running people over.

Cars
On that note - the size of cars is quite a curious thing too. On my first visit it was one of the first things I noticed - that and the that LA’s air smells like gasoline. In Aust. your average larger car is the equivalent of a toyota camry over here. V8’s are a rarity in nowadays with the price of fuel which is the equivalent of $5.55 a gallon and if you see them they have been converted to run on LPG (liquid petroleum gas). We certainly don’t have anything the size of some of the pickups I’ve seen getting around Nashville. My wife and I have dubbed the dualies - “pickups with hips”. I’m sure their super macho drivers wouldn’t appreciate the feminine reference

Spelling
Lastly is good old rudimentary spelling. Colour is now color; labour is labor. It’s not mum anymore, it’s mom and so on and so forth. I had a moment last year where a piece of graphic design I’d done for a website was handed back to me with smirks and grins. When I asked what was wrong with it my colleague took great pleasure in telling me that the client wanted Labour spelt Labor for their Labor Day weekend promotion. “I just told him you were Australian.”

“Ahhh” said the client .