The Urban Symphony.

So I had finished with my Fantasy Football draft and was about to eat some leftovers (I live a very exciting life) when one of my favorite parts of living in the city happened. I call it The Urban Symphony. This is mixture of noises that I can hear from outside because the windows are up because it’s hot and I don’t have air conditioning. Before I go into detail, I don’t live in a bad neighborhood.
It starts with the gentle audible sounds of my neighbor, reaching climax. This is the soprano. It increases in volume, pitch and tempo before the next “musician” joins in. I would also like to point out that if this is one of my neighbors, “right on Tim!” because she is way to hot to be dating you.
The squeals are at their thunderous heights when the dogs from a few blokes away begin to howl, maybe they are scared, maybe they are confused or maybe they are just giving their doggie high-five to Tim but the howls add a perfect complementing falsetto to the woman.
These are the two base layers for the symphony and as long as the woman “sings” and the dogs howl the magic is happening. (Please refrain from the easy “magic happening” joke.) While the base is going, there are different acts to the musically number. There is the sound the screeching car. The long pouring of water, which may be another neighbor peeing off the balcony. And of course the deep bass of the dog bark. Different mind you then our howling dogs.
The real beauty of this is not the individual noises, but rather the blend. They come together in such a rich fashion, that words fail to describe the composition. Those in the suburbs don’t get this. They live in insulated houses with space between them and their neighbors. This may be nice if you want to raise a kid or something. But if you want to experience real “culture,” then it’s all about the Urban Symphony.

This time machine sure tastes a lot like Jagermeister

I stole this line from my sister but I love it.

Jason Wakefield is ruining Portland.

So, it has been a while since the last post. I have been weary of writing because of the whole homeland security incident. (Don’t know about this? Email me.) I have been wondering if I should write about my adventures with friends and frankly without leaving vicariously through them, I don’t have much to write about. But during this self-imposed exile, I have had some big changes in my life. I moved to Portland, OR. I live alone for the first time. I don’t have the internet yet, and am struggling to make it through each day alone (without internet that is).
So I have been living alone for three days now and it’s an adjustment. I went from a house with four kids to a dorm with 300 to a house with two people I really didn’t like, to a Fraternity with 60 guys, to living with a roommate and I have become pretty accustomed to people being around all the time. It still feels like those times when your parents left for the weekend, and you thought, “yes! I am going to have a blast!” but after the first couple hours of snooping through rooms you shouldn’t, you just get bored. At night you are used to the noises and rustling of people around, and you come to find out that it’s not noises that keep you awake but silence. This is compounded by the fact the contents of my apartment consist of two folding chairs and a blow up mattress.

So about the title:
Let me tell you, I didn’t expect there to be so many hipsters in Portland. They all have greasy hair that covers at least one eye and needs constant adjusting to let people know that life is hard, super tight girls jeans, their belt buckles are off to the side and they are all in bands. If you don’t believe me look them up on myspace. They’re on there. Right now. Really check it out. This will still be here when you get back. I mentioned this to someone I work with and he explains that Portland is the cool city people want to live in because it’s affordable and people can live their lives and be left alone. “Seattle’s cool” someone mentions. I quickly explain how Seattle is over priced…. I am not going to go into the conversation. But the conclusion is that Seattle was cool in the early ‘90s (remember Nirvana, Singles, Flannel, Heroin, Junior High?) but the influx of money from nerdy types wanting to be cool had made it unlivable to cool people so they, and all the strippers, moved south to Portland. Now the nerdy people with corporate jobs want to be cool and are all moving here and inflating the prices, ruining Portland. Sorry.

Oh so if you make it to Portland, let me know. I have a floor.

Oh sorry, I forgot that you know everything.

So the other day, I was listening to music and someone mentioned that the band was “musical wallpaper” or some pretentious bullshit. It got me thinking that I fucking hate music snobs. This incident wasn’t really a big deal, but this is something that has been pissing me off for a good 10 years. These people think that they have some divine musical knowledge and it is there duty to make people listen to their classic rock, or Dave Matthews Band or Techno, or some type of shit that you clearly don’t want to. On top of that, they feel that they have to show you the errors of your way listening to what you want to. It’s like this guy in Target trying to share his “I Love Jesus, America and George Bush, but Fags should die” religion with me while I’m trying to buy a fucking towel. Leave me the fuck alone with that shit.
They all might have a little different type of music that they preach, but their techniques are all the same. It maybe Phish The Doors or some other shit you have to smoke weed to like. Or techno or house, or some other type of electronic music that you will most likely mistakenly call techno and have to be on ecstasy to like. Or some super alt band that no one has heard of, that they like primarily because no one has heard of them. You know what, dick; if they were good, other people would have heard of them. Now I don’t care what people listen to, I also know people want to share what they like with others. That’s just being nice. Thanks Ryan for giving me the Wolfmother CD. But, If I don’t like what you are playing, that’s gotta be fucking cool with you. Don’t say, “you just don’t understand it” or “pay attention to the drums” or “You should get high. You would love this if you were baked”
If I have to be fucking high to like music, then I probably don’t like it. It’s like an ugly girl; if you have to get drunk to hook up with her then you probably don’t really like her either.
These guys use the techniques they teach you about in DARE. They peer pressure. “Dude, everyone likes Dave Matthews Band!” or “the cool kids listen to DJ Girl I went to High School with.” They will gang up on you and all demand that the 4-hour trip to Pullman will be all Jack Johnson. Parents need to be worried about these fuckers. No one tried to pressure me into doing coke or heroin but they sure as hell tried to get me listen to G. Love and Special Sauce.

Jason Wakefield is currently listening to James Blunt. Who by the way, according to a friends blog, is the one of the most annoying people to listen to.

In a related note, People who wear striped shirts do not like it when you put ABBA on the Jukebox.