Dec 23 2011
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Endorsements, Literature, Music, Nostalgia

Unsolicited Endorsements: VIII

Because sometimes you just want friends to tell you about cool things… the Brew House team offers up its weekly mix of author-supported goodness.

Song: The Christmas Shoes 

Many a soul reserve a particularly contemptible place in their heart for “The Christmas Shoes.” I suspect some may even call it the worst Christmas song ever, worse than even “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” or “All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth.” I say this because Jezebel held a contest for readers to decided the worst Christmas song ever, and it won, beating out, in the semifinal and then final, “All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth” and “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer.”  Continue reading →

Dec 22 2011
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Essay, New York, Travel

Invasive Species (They and Me and You)

I see the way they look at me and mumble a meek “Hi” as I duck into my renovated apartment in the building we share.

After all, they were here first. They lived through the days of glass-enclosed cashiers, barren after-dark avenues and the crime that made New York notorious. My Brooklyn — its craft beer bars, wine shops and organic groceries — isn’t their Brooklyn.

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Dec 19 2011
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Culture, Music

Music and 2011

About three months ago, on a clear and cool night in early September, I made the short trip to Midtown to watch Bon Iver play at the Uptown Theatre. (That makes sense if you live in KC.)

On most nights, this would seem like a pretty simple plan.

Drive to said show. Sip a beer and act sufficiently curious during the opening act. Experience the concert. And then head back out into the Kansas City night, content, inspired, ready for more music.

The circumstances of this night, however, were something different. After planning for a couple weeks to go with two friends, life interfered in the days leading up to the show, and I was left with two extra tickets.

The Uptown was sold out that night, and I knew this. So I knew it wouldn’t be a problem to unload the extra tickets at the last minute, but I also felt a little hesitant about going to the show by myself.

Do people do this? I thought.

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Dec 16 2011
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Endorsements, Food, Movies

Unsolicited Endorsements: VII

Because sometimes you just want friends to tell you about cool things… the Brew House team offers up its weekly mix of author-supported goodness.

This soccer-centric documentary debuted at the SXSW Film Festival in 2010, and it immediately struck a chord. Pelada, which literally translates to “naked” in Portuguese, is the Brazilian word for pickup soccer (or more correctly, futbol).

It’s the work of four young film-makers and stars Luke Boughen and Gwendolyn Oxenham, two former college soccer standouts who travel the world in a constant search for the most basic form of the game — and what it means to each place. This week, more than a year after it surfaced on my radar, I was finally able to cross it off my list. (It’s streaming on Netflix.)

On the surface, this is essentially a love letter to the beautiful game, but the film resonated with me on two deeper levels: It opens a window into life in the unseen (the slums of Buenos Aires; a prison yard in La Paz, Bolivia; the tension-filled streets of Jerusalem), capturing the struggles and monotony of day-to-day life through the lens of futbol.

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Dec 16 2011
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Culture, Music

Russians, Adele and How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Realize I Have the Consumerist Soul of a Suburban Woman

GoMusicNow.com is a music website that offers full albums for about two dollars and songs for about 15 cents. It is heaven, and it is likely (HAS TO BE) illegal. And I think it is based out of Russia.

One day in the not too distant future I will almost certainly take three steps out of my apartment and then three KGB agents will grab my arms and legs and cover my mouth with a chloroform rag before transporting me to a secret underground missile silo that doubles as a gulag for punk Americans who think they can cheat the music industry. I know this. Their names will be Dmitri, Boris (pronounced bo-REEEES) and Vladimir. I wait attentively like a minuteman for this regrettable day. Until then, GoMusicNow.com is worth it.

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Dec 13 2011
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Essay, New York, Travel

Times Square

My company relocated recently from the stately silver canyons of Sixth Avenue to the pulsating, luminous walls of Times Square. This two-block shift might not seem like a big deal, but as any resident of the five boroughs knows, it is, indeed a very big deal.

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Dec 12 2011
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Music

#MusicMonday: VII

Every Monday morning. Music so good… it must be shared.

This week: “The OtherSide” — The Roots, from their new album, “Undun” (LA Times Review: Here)

Thanks for stopping by The Brew House…

Dec 09 2011
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Endorsements, Literature, Movies

Unsolicited Endorsements: VI

Because sometimes you just want friends to tell you about cool things… the Brew House team offers up its weekly mix of author-supported goodness.

Movie: “White Christmas”

Before you go any further… yes, I know, it’s pretty early for Christmas movies. But it’s not that early. It’s Dec. 9, and that means you only have 16 more days to watch Chevy Chase and Macauley Culkin and Billy Bob. And, mostly, you need to watch this one. I will confess: This pick, as most of mine tend to be, is definitely a nostalgic choice. My family would watch White Christmas every December.  Continue reading →

Dec 09 2011
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Culture, Music

Konichiwa, Bitches

This weekend, Robyn is the musical guest on Saturday Night Live, Saturday FREAKING Night Live. At Rockefeller Center. On national TV. As part of one of the most famous shows in American history. In terms of excitement level, for me, this pretty much equates finding a $20 bill on the ground with no one else around and then discovering that a Champion replica Bryant “Big Country” Reeves Grizzlies jersey is available for $20 on EBay, so yeah, VERY high excitement levels. Continue reading →

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Dec 07 2011
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Culture, Essay, Nostalgia

The story of Peter Berg

That afternoon, as the sun began to descend over the colorful mélange of San Francisco hills, we took our seats in the garden, a backyard with strange looking flora, life surrounding everything.

Our hosts looked at us with a hint of friendly suspicion. How could you blame them?  We were intruders, strangers, locusts looking for answers.

But… we did sit quietly. Mostly because we didn’t know what to say.

We had traveled thousands of miles, thrown into a journey that was one-part contest, one-part investigation, and one-part discovery.

And now we were here, sitting in the backyard of an old, white-haired man named Peter Berg, trying in vein to explain ourselves.

At last, the old man spoke:

“I wanna know two things,” he said, “One is why Peter Coyote? And why me?”

 

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