I was watching The Devil Wears Prada on the tube a few nights ago. (I'm not proud of this, but now that I have an HD set, I pretty much only watch HD channels and nothing much was on and the movie is pretty easy on the eyes...but I digress). So I'm sort of watching the movie while surfing or doing a crossword or something, and I hear what I am sure is Callie Lipton singing. Callie went to high school with my ridiculous eldest daughter, Leslie. They were both charter members of the "naughty nineteen", and Leslie loved going to her house because it was full of guitars and drums, and because her parents were more, er, ah, permissive than Eileen and I were. I'm listening and I'm thinking, "Gee, I think Leslie would have told me that Callie had a song on The Devil Wears Prada soundtrack."
So I back up the movie a minute or two and listen real hard, and it still sounds like Callie, so I launch iTunes and check out the movie soundtrack and discover, alas, it's not Callie or her band The Dejas, but Sleep, by Azure Ray. You can check that song by selecting Sleep from their MySpace page - Azure Ray . But, please, then check out The Dejas at their site - The Dejas. I love their music - no artifice - they sing and play from the heart.
Now I think Sleep is a heckuva song - I even sprung the $.99 to get a copy - but I think The Dejas also create some great great music. So if anyone out there is making a movie and needs some original music with a nice drive and some haunting vocals...
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Just give me that old time religion!
This is an email I sent to my buddy, Ross, in St. Paul, MN in the spring of 2004 before the Sox made it to the promised land.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Friday, May 7, 2004 - Sox vs Royals - Eileen's brother Matt (big time Sox fan living in Brooklyn, NY) is up for the weekend for nephew Kevin's first communion on Saturday. I snagged 4 tickets and we're sitting just to the left of the screen behind home plate - halfway under the overhang. It's freaking balmy - 70's. It's May 7 and the place is absolutely packed - the 80 somethingth sellout in a row. Also along is Erica (heart partially broken from last September, but still believing) and Matt's wife Maureen (Moe) - she's from a family of mostly Yankee fans though one of her brothers hates them - "I don't care who wins, so long as it's not the Yankees!"
Moe doesn't understand Matt's passion for baseball - he's a rotisserie guy, too - watches Baseball Tonight on ESPN religiously - but she loves him and so puts up with it. Sox go down early 2-0, but catch up and tie it up at 2-2. Wakefield, the knuckleballer (actually the premiere knuckleballer of the past 5-10 years) is on the hill. It's a lovely night and we're chatting away - I bemoan the fact that the scoreboard puts up the scorebook notation after every play. Ground out to third and "5-3" flashes on the Jumbotron. "If you're gonna keep score, then you already know how to score the game. And if you don't know, then you're supposed to be taught by someone who does - it's like passing down tribal lore.", says I.
Wake and the Sox falter in the 5th and the Royals score 4 times (they "put up a crooked number" as my radio guys Joe & Jerry like to say). Some shoddy fielding aids the Royals cause - a throwing error by 3rd baseman Bill Mueller (throwing the ball into right trying to start a DP) being the big blow.
After the 7th, a bunch of fans started toward the exits. I was going for a "squirt" and heard the taunting of the "true" fans toward the fair-weather fans who were leaving. "Hey, I'm just going for a piss!", wanted to say.
Bottom of the eight, still down by 4, the fans started getting into it. Manny singles, Kapler (in for the ailing Trot Nixon) hits a pop-up that ex-Sox farmhand Matt Stairs can't handle - the wind was swirling and though the ball started toward left, it ended up closer to center. Centerfielder Beltran didn't even attempt to make a play. 1st and 2nd - the crowd cheering and clapping - we're all on our feet now - and Doug Mirabelli (he always catches Wakefield) singles sharply down the left-field line. Stairs misses the cutoff and Kapler scores all the way from first - 6-4 Royals.
Southpaw Embree comes on the pitch the ninth for the Sox - Wakefield, though he gave up 6 runs, still manages to pitch eight innings - he's that kind of pitcher - one of my favorites - always putting team before personal stats. He also has the longest tenure with the Sox (I think) - over 10 years. Embree mows 'en down.
Bottom of the ninth - have I mentioned that we haven't sat down since the 8th inning started? Did I mention that we've been screaming and clapping the whole time? "Let's go, Red Sox; clap-clap, clap-clap-clap" Top of the order - Damon works the count to 3-2 and draws a walk. Mark Bellhorn, he of .220 batting average, but having an OBP over .400 as he leads the league in walks, launches (and I mean launches) a blast deep into the right field seats. Game tied 6-6. The joint goes crazy - we're high-fiving, and screaming, and people are dancing. The game, for all intents and purposes, is over. At that point I knew how Yankee fans felt after they tied up Game 7 in September. It was now just a matter of time before the Sox got that final run to win the game.
Unlike the Yankees, who tortured Sox fans though 3 innings of overtime, the Sox were merciful and ended it right away. Manny singled, and Varitek (the true MVP of this team) pinch-hitting for Mirabelli, ropes a shot down the right field line. Juan Gonzales, never know as a slick fielding outfielder, digs the ball out of the corner, but Manny, chugging all the way from first, beats the throw, and the sound-system starts belting out, "Dirty Water" signaling the Sox victory.
Moe turns to me and says, "Wow - it's as if we willed them to win!" She gots the religion now, baby. What a beautiful night - what a beautiful game. We hung around for a long while, just savoring the moment. On our way out, one of the Fenway workers says, "Hey I need some high fives." and gets a bunch of takers. I high fived a bunch of kids in a yellow school bus. "Most definitely" (a baseball movie reference - know where from?) one if the finest times I've had in Fenway.
An important sidelight - Matt never sees the Sox win. Everytime he goes to a game, they lose, usually badly. We noted this as we went down 6-2. It's the "Curse of Matt." Once, when the girls were little, we went to a night game. Sox were down - it was late - girls were cranky, so we left early (maybe the only time I've ever done so). As soon as Matt leaves the park, the Sox start to rally, and eventually win the game. It's as if they were waiting for Matt to leave. So the "Matt Curse" is broken. Can the Bambino's be far behind?
-----------------------------------------------------------
Friday, May 7, 2004 - Sox vs Royals - Eileen's brother Matt (big time Sox fan living in Brooklyn, NY) is up for the weekend for nephew Kevin's first communion on Saturday. I snagged 4 tickets and we're sitting just to the left of the screen behind home plate - halfway under the overhang. It's freaking balmy - 70's. It's May 7 and the place is absolutely packed - the 80 somethingth sellout in a row. Also along is Erica (heart partially broken from last September, but still believing) and Matt's wife Maureen (Moe) - she's from a family of mostly Yankee fans though one of her brothers hates them - "I don't care who wins, so long as it's not the Yankees!"
Moe doesn't understand Matt's passion for baseball - he's a rotisserie guy, too - watches Baseball Tonight on ESPN religiously - but she loves him and so puts up with it. Sox go down early 2-0, but catch up and tie it up at 2-2. Wakefield, the knuckleballer (actually the premiere knuckleballer of the past 5-10 years) is on the hill. It's a lovely night and we're chatting away - I bemoan the fact that the scoreboard puts up the scorebook notation after every play. Ground out to third and "5-3" flashes on the Jumbotron. "If you're gonna keep score, then you already know how to score the game. And if you don't know, then you're supposed to be taught by someone who does - it's like passing down tribal lore.", says I.
Wake and the Sox falter in the 5th and the Royals score 4 times (they "put up a crooked number" as my radio guys Joe & Jerry like to say). Some shoddy fielding aids the Royals cause - a throwing error by 3rd baseman Bill Mueller (throwing the ball into right trying to start a DP) being the big blow.
After the 7th, a bunch of fans started toward the exits. I was going for a "squirt" and heard the taunting of the "true" fans toward the fair-weather fans who were leaving. "Hey, I'm just going for a piss!", wanted to say.
Bottom of the eight, still down by 4, the fans started getting into it. Manny singles, Kapler (in for the ailing Trot Nixon) hits a pop-up that ex-Sox farmhand Matt Stairs can't handle - the wind was swirling and though the ball started toward left, it ended up closer to center. Centerfielder Beltran didn't even attempt to make a play. 1st and 2nd - the crowd cheering and clapping - we're all on our feet now - and Doug Mirabelli (he always catches Wakefield) singles sharply down the left-field line. Stairs misses the cutoff and Kapler scores all the way from first - 6-4 Royals.
Southpaw Embree comes on the pitch the ninth for the Sox - Wakefield, though he gave up 6 runs, still manages to pitch eight innings - he's that kind of pitcher - one of my favorites - always putting team before personal stats. He also has the longest tenure with the Sox (I think) - over 10 years. Embree mows 'en down.
Bottom of the ninth - have I mentioned that we haven't sat down since the 8th inning started? Did I mention that we've been screaming and clapping the whole time? "Let's go, Red Sox; clap-clap, clap-clap-clap" Top of the order - Damon works the count to 3-2 and draws a walk. Mark Bellhorn, he of .220 batting average, but having an OBP over .400 as he leads the league in walks, launches (and I mean launches) a blast deep into the right field seats. Game tied 6-6. The joint goes crazy - we're high-fiving, and screaming, and people are dancing. The game, for all intents and purposes, is over. At that point I knew how Yankee fans felt after they tied up Game 7 in September. It was now just a matter of time before the Sox got that final run to win the game.
Unlike the Yankees, who tortured Sox fans though 3 innings of overtime, the Sox were merciful and ended it right away. Manny singled, and Varitek (the true MVP of this team) pinch-hitting for Mirabelli, ropes a shot down the right field line. Juan Gonzales, never know as a slick fielding outfielder, digs the ball out of the corner, but Manny, chugging all the way from first, beats the throw, and the sound-system starts belting out, "Dirty Water" signaling the Sox victory.
Moe turns to me and says, "Wow - it's as if we willed them to win!" She gots the religion now, baby. What a beautiful night - what a beautiful game. We hung around for a long while, just savoring the moment. On our way out, one of the Fenway workers says, "Hey I need some high fives." and gets a bunch of takers. I high fived a bunch of kids in a yellow school bus. "Most definitely" (a baseball movie reference - know where from?) one if the finest times I've had in Fenway.
An important sidelight - Matt never sees the Sox win. Everytime he goes to a game, they lose, usually badly. We noted this as we went down 6-2. It's the "Curse of Matt." Once, when the girls were little, we went to a night game. Sox were down - it was late - girls were cranky, so we left early (maybe the only time I've ever done so). As soon as Matt leaves the park, the Sox start to rally, and eventually win the game. It's as if they were waiting for Matt to leave. So the "Matt Curse" is broken. Can the Bambino's be far behind?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)