Kære Dagbog #1

tirsdag den 26. marts 2013


Jeg er på det vilde doo-wop kick lige for tiden. Det kommer en gang imellem, så vågner jeg om morgenen, og min hjerne SKRIGER på The Ronettes, og tier ikke stille før den får det i spandevis. Så nu har jeg siddet og fedtet med Neil Sedaka og Frankie Lymon en hel eftermiddag, og gjort et noget fejlslagent forsøg på at lære at spille Breaking Up Is Hard To Do på min ukulele. Ak ja.


In other news skal jeg ind og se Ryan Gosling's nye film, The Place Beyond The Pines, med min flotte, fra Herning hjemvendte veninde Rikke på torsdag. Ikke nok med at flotte-Ryan spiller en vigtig rolle (og at han er synlig det meste af filmen igennem, en kvalitet jeg holder meget af i Mr. Gosling), så har Mike Patton, den mest alsidige og ikke mindst dygtige musiker i live, lavet musikken, og jeg glæder mig ustyrligt til kombinationen af førnævnte. Mike Patton er nok (desværre) mest kendt for nu-metal-bandet Faith No More, som havde et stort hit med Epic i '90, men han har været galionsfigur i mange projekter sidenhen, blandt andet Mr. Bungle, Peeping Tom og Tomahawk, og ud over det har han også tidligere lavet soundtracks, lagt stemme til computerspil, og vovet sig ud i en smule skuespil. Og nu laver han altså underlægningsmusik til Ryan Gosling's ansigt, og det skal man altså ikke kimse af.

Ellers er mit liv egentlig ikke særlig spændende. Jeg lever stadig af te, eftermiddagslure og pop-kultur. Må I allesammen hygge jer, jeg håber I har det for vildt og at I synes det var den rigtige der vandt X Factor.

Knus,
Penny

SHORT STORY - Timing At The Theatre

onsdag den 20. marts 2013

I was pretty happy I left the movie theatre when I did.
Well, not right away. It was raining cats and dogs. So there I was, standing in the rain, thinking “why the fuck did I pay 7 dollars to watch a movie I had no interest in watching, and leave within the first half hour?”. I've come to the conclusion that it was cosmic timing. I'll get to why in a second. First, I'd like to make it clear that I never got the 7 dollars back. But that's the least of things. I was soaked by the time I got to the nearest café, which was no more than five minutes away. Thank God for city life. I walked in, just to get away from the rain. I usually don't go to cafés, unless my mother forces me to one of her parent-child-bonding trips to the city. Every fucking time she realizes overtime makes it hard to be an attentive mom. This happens every four months or so. They mostly consist of me and her going to cafés and her asking me if I'm gay, making it clear that it's totally fine if I am. Everything aside, I appreciate that. My mom's okay. At least she gives a shit, unlike my dad. But I digress.
It just wouldn't stop raining. I had sat there for probably 45 minutes, and I was emptying my third cup of overpriced coffee, black, and in comes a woman, with two kids. She looked pretty upset, like someone just called her and said that the train that was supposed to take her to where she wanted to go was cancelled and, oh, the line had been closed for good, no chance of her reaching her destination. She came over to my table, and asked if she could sit there, since every other table was occupied. Of course I told her okay. She was shaking, as she was putting down her kids. One was around one, and in a lift chair, and the other around three.
Are you alright?”, I asked.
Yeah, I'm totally fine. Really.”. She didn't sound like she meant it.
The waitress came over, and the woman ordered a cup of coffee.
I'm Alex”, I said.
Hi Alex. I'm Jessica, and this is Brandon and James. James is the youngest.” She was still shaking, but now she was smiling, too. I couldn't figure it out, but I didn't wanna seem rude by asking.
It's nice to meet you guys. What are you doing out in this weather?”
She looked very uncomfortable when I asked her that, eyes shifting, and hands fidgeting.
Just out for a walk.”
Right. I just went to the movie theatre, but the film was fucking ter.. Oh, shit, I'm sorry.”
She didn't get mad, like my mom when I swear. She laughed.
No, it's fine. I swear like a sailor myself. What film did you watch?”
Her voice was now calmer than it had been when she sat down next to me. She didn't shiver as much anymore, either.
I don't remember what it's called. It was this kids' movie. Something with a troll. It wasn't even funny. I left after twenty minutes.”
It's A Troll In Central Park, isn't it?”
That's the one. I hated it. The part I watched, anyway.”
Maybe you're not the target demographic.”
It's a family movie, right? I have a family.”
She laughed again.
Good point. I..”
She was interrupted by one of the other café patrons.
Hey, turn up the television! There's been a fire at the multiplex across the street!”
Everyone directed their attention to the television above the counter, except Jessica, who suddenly returned to her panicked state.
Are you all right?”, I asked.
Yeah, I'm fine. I just came from there.”
I suddenly noticed something. Brandon had a red mark on his wrist, mostly covered by his shirt.
Is he okay? Has he been hurt?”
No, he's fine! It's just a small burn, really, it's..”
You need to get him to a hospital, right now.”
I can't.”
What do you mean you can't? He's hurt.”
I can't afford it. I don't have insurance.”
I thought about what I could do. I didn't have much money back then, because I'd spent most of my monthly allowance on a mate for my hamster, Aaron. I'd named him after my good friend's little brother, who had a severe case of chipmunk-face. Both hamsters died not too long after these events, when my mom's boyfriend's dog came over to visit, and couldn't control its instincts. I didn't care much. I came to the conclusion that I couldn't help at all. I'm not a fucking doctor.
Are you sure?”
Absolutely. My boyfriend just left. He threw us out of the apartment. We don't even have a place to stay tonight. We have nothing. Really. His burn is the least of our worries, for now. I know I'm a bad mother, but..”
No, you're not. You're doing your best, which makes you hell of a lot better than most moms I know.”
She didn't expect me to be kind, as evident in the fact that her eyes, shiny with tears, lit up like a christmas tree. It didn't last long, though. It was like this was the first time she really understood her situation, like it magically became true because she said it.
But my best isn't enough. I mean, here I am, homeless and with a wounded kid, and there's nothing I can do.”
But there's something I can do. My mom and I live on the other side of town, you can stay there for a while.”
Thanks, but I don't want to bother a complete stranger.”
Seriously, it's fine. There's room enough.”
I wasn't lying. I was living in the pool-boy-shed, and it was bigger than my friend from town's three-bedroom apartment. And my mom only came home at night, so it wasn't exactly like the place was always riveting and full of life. To tell you the truth, I could really use the company.
.. Are you sure?”
I'd be offended if you said no.”
Better do it, then.”. She smiled through the tears that had begun falling down her face.
I felt like I'd done something worthwhile with my day.
* * *
It was around 11.30 when we arrived home. We had spent the day walking around town, going into more cafés, and we fixed Brandon's arm the best we could with some anti-bacterial stuff and some gauze I'd bought for my last spare change. She thanked me over flowingly, but frankly, I was a bit embarrassed, so I kept diverting her attention to something else. It had been a pretty fantastic day. She was terrific company. She got not all, but most of my pop references, that usually go way over my mom's head, and she was nice to me, in a way that none of my friends are. I can't really explain it any better than that. I'm a bit of an emotional retard, to be honest.
I could tell my mom had arrived home, because her car was in the driveway. At that point in the night, she's either working or sleeping, so I didn't feel like introducing her to Jessica, even if Jessica was very adamant about me getting her permission. But she's pretty lax about who she lets me keep here overnight. I mean, for a month or so, two guys from school practically moved in, and spent all the time not going to school, smoking weed, and playing Dungeons and Dragons. It was a weird time of my life. Anyway, I unlocked the door, and let them in. James was already asleep, and it was obvious that it was way over Brandon's bedtime. I have no idea what time kids go to bed.
So where do we stay?”, Jessica asked.
Well, I only have one queen-size bed. So I'm thinking I could make a bed for Brandon in the bathtub. Yeah, I know it's not optimal.”
She laughed when I mentioned the bathtub.
No, it's fine. It'll get him through the night. And I sleep in your bed?”
Well, yeah, it's really the only place there is. I could sleep on the floor if you're more comfortable with that.”
No, don't do that. You've been kind enough. I don't mind at all.”
I made the kid a bed in my bathtub that I never use anyway, because the water out here is full of rust, since it wasn't used from 1978 up until a few years ago, when my mom let me stay out here. Because it was cool to be able to listen to loud music and do other illicit things for a while back in sophomore year, and I kind of got used to it. I always use the bathroom in the house. James was left to sleep in his chair, and I made the bed for an extra person in the bedroom. I brushed my teeth, and when I went into bed, Jessica was already half-asleep. I guess she'd had a long day. I crawled into bed, and without really thinking about it, I put my arm around Jessica. I really liked her.
What are you doing?”. Oh shit.
Nothing, I..” She started getting up.
I think I better leave”, she said, and started putting on her shoes she'd left on the side of the bed.
I didn't mean anything, I'm sorry! Please stay, I'll sleep on the floor. I'm really sorry..”
Thank you for being nice to me and paying for my coffee and Brandon's gauze. I appreciate it. I'll leave now.” She sounded really angry.
Seriously, stay here. I'll go sleep in the house. You won't see any more of me. You don't have anywhere to go!” She had gone to get James and Brandon, and probably couldn't hear anything I was saying anyway. I was just absolutely flabbergasted at her reaction. I didn't know what to do, I hadn't anticipated this.
She rushed past the bedroom, not even glancing at me. I could hear Brandon crying. “Goodbye.”.
She slammed the door, and there I sat. Like I had been run over by a fucking truck. It was strange, because the second Jessica was out of earshot, I started pondering if any of it had happened, at all. The only physical evidence left of our encounter was the bathtub-bed, made up and barely slept in. It was as if I'd just made up the entire thing because my life was really boring, and I was trying to compensate. But I'm pretty sure it all happened. I never un-made the bed-tub, it's still there. I spent the rest of that night lying in it. Not sleeping. I couldn't, really. I just pondered my situation, and read a mixture of stupid bathroom reading material my best friend at the time kept bringing over because he insisted he couldn't take a shit without having something to read, and the book I was reading at the time. Probably something angsty.
I don't really know where I'm going with this story, but it's one of those strange encounters that lie somewhere between reality and dreaming. A real-life Twilight Zone, of sorts. And besides, I don't really know what to do with this story, if not get it out at some point. It doesn't fit into my head that well, anymore, and I've probably modified it endlessly inside my head, without really realizing it. And I wanted to write it down before I completely mauled it. But for me, it's a constant reminder that things work out the way they should, and if you fuck them up, it's damned well your own fault. If I hadn't decided to leave the movie theater when I did, it's likely I would've died in the fire, along with the three other people who attended that screening of Troll in Central Park, and if I hadn't gone to that specific café, I never would've met Jessica. Fate threw this situation at me, and I threw it away, because I'm a fucking idiot. It's a story I keep to myself, because I'm embarrassed that I managed to ruin that situation for everyone involved, but I still like to remember it, as as reminder to do things the right way. Or maybe I just like the story, in and of itself. Or else I like to just cherish the memory. It doesn't really matter, when it comes to the crunch. All I know is that it was time to get it out, and so here it is. 

Crystal Castles, Voxhall 1. Marts


Jeg har set Crystal Castles en enkelt gang før, på Northside i 2011. Det var så absolut noget ud over det sædvanlige. Jeg var ikke specielt bekendt med bandet dengang, andet end deres gennebrud, Crimewave, men jeg skulle, som den stædige musiknørd jeg er, helt op foran. Jeg stod ved siden af to platinblonde teenagepiger i læderjakker som snakkede om hvor fantastiske og dybe CC's tekster var, og gjorde alle andre i en radius på halvanden meter opmærksomme på samme.

Så kom Crystal Castles på scenen. Jeg har aldrig nogensinde, i mine ti år som koncertgænger, været til en koncert hvor der blev spillet så højt. Efter flere Roskilder og endnu flere koncerter har jeg erhvervet mig høreskade og tinnitus, og jeg følte mig alligevel nødsaget til at bruge ørepropper, for det gjorde direkte ondt, noget jeg aldrig før har oplevet. Efter koncerten så én af mine venner mig i mængden, løb over til mig, og råbte “JEG RØRTE ALICE GLASS! JEG RØRTE VED HENDE! HUN ER SIMPELTHEN DET SEJESTE MENNESKE I HELE VERDEN. HUN ER SIMPELTHEN SÅ COOL!”. Og jeg måtte give ham ret.



Fast forward til 1. marts 2013. Jeg ankom til Voxhall en halv time efter døråbning, og gik op til scenen og satte mig. Da jeg så pigen ved siden af mig iført et Black Veil Brides-armbånd drikke Tempt følte jeg mig pludselig gammel, da jeg er vokset fra både emocore og konfirmand-øl for snart mange år siden. Suk. Bandet kom på, i vanlig nonchalant stil, en halv time efter skema. Da de kom på, stod pigen bag mig og råbte “ERMAGERD” igen og igen de første ti minutter. Hysteriet var på højde med det jeg så, da jeg i 2006 så -H-I-M- på Roskilde Festival (døm bare, vi har alle været unge og dumme!). Som det andet nummer spillede de Baptism, og fra da af gik folk helt amok.



Kun én gang under hele koncerten så jeg dem kommunikere med publikum, da Ethan Katz ville ha' folk til at hoppe i takt. Ud over det var de, ligesom sidst jeg så dem, både apatiske og energiske på samme tid. Det er en hårfin balance, men de mestrer den helt sublimt. Samtidig med at de begge to ser ud som om de keder sig helt urimelig meget, giver de den begge to hundrede procent. Mens Alice crowdsurfer og skriger sin let genkendelige klagesang, ser hun samtidig ud som om at det hele bare er another day at the office – og det er netop dét der gør hende så cool. Det er de færreste forundt at kunne forholde sig i ro under de halsbrækkende stunts Alice mestrer, og endnu sjældnere endnu, at kunne holde sit pokerface samtidig. Uden at kommunikere særlig meget sammen, formår de stadig at være helt synkrone – de har styr på hvad hinanden laver, og når Alice ind imellem joiner Ethan ved mixerpulten, anerkender de ikke engang den andens eksistens, men det er stadig tydeligt at de ved hvad der foregår, og det er det der gør dem til så tight en duo. Da de spillede Not In Love, det sidste nummer før ekstranumrene, gik der White Sensation i menneskemængden. Mens strobelyset blinkede, dansede hele menneskemængden, og da de gik af scenen var der ikke et øje tørt. De kom på igen, spillede tre eller fire yderligere numre, og det var den perfekte nedgearing på en fabelagtig koncert i selskab med de sejeste mennesker på jord.  

Om hvordan Placebo formede min teenageidentitet



En skæbnesvanger oktoberaften i 2003 sidder jeg sammen med min familie i vores sommerhus og zapper rundt på de mange TV-kanaler for at finde noget spændende. Min far falder over MTV, hvilket vi allesammen kan blive enige om, så vi sidder med hver vores kop te og ser Jennifer Lopez-videoer. Pludselig, ud af det blå, toner Placebo frem på skærmen. En video med forvrængede ansigter, hjertestartere og antydede cumshots. Nummeret er ladet med reverb, og over dette en enormt androgyn stemme, der synger om mænd i kvindetøj der har anonym sex med papirsposer over hovedet. Nancy Boy, skulle jeg senere finde ud af, hed nummeret.



Det var som en kold spand vand i hovedet på en forvirret trettenårig som jeg. Min identitet havde et ben i alle lejre, og jeg elskede både Lizzie McGuire og Marilyn Manson. Men da jeg så Placebo, faldt brikkerne pludselig på plads. Brian Molko, Placebo's frontmand, stod stolt og rank og tæskede løs på en guitar mens han sang som en pige, og havde mere makeup på end selv de fremmeste piger i min klasse. “Det dér”, tænkte jeg, “det er mig!”. Og de næste mange år baserede jeg ganske rigtigt min eksistens på Placebo's manifesto. Jeg havde i mange år sort pagehår ligesom The Man Himself (og Enid Coleslaw fra Ghost World, men that's another story for another day), tog uendelige mængder eyeliner på hver morgen, og stillede spørgsmålstegn ved min egen seksualitet og kønsidentitet.


Da jeg gik i 3.G, fyldte nitten, og min identitetsforvirring fortog sig en kende (samtidig med at jeg klippede alt mit hår af) drev min Placebo-besættelse også lige så stille over. Jeg begyndte at interessere mig for andre, bredere, genrer. Jeg var pludselig knapt så vred og forvirret over det at være til, og jeg behøvede ikke min daglige dosis Placebo (no pun intended). Helt færdig var jeg dog ikke med dem – jeg købte stadig en hundedyr udgave af deres sjette album, Battle for the Sun, med både autografer, vinyl, DVD, og hele moletjavsen. Det er på ingen måde deres stærkeste album, men jeg fortryder INTET.

Jeg er på det seneste begyndt at lytte lidt til dem igen, og det har været både nostalgisk, trist, sjovt og har fået mig til at føle mig enormt meget hjemme i min egen hjerne, og har på sin vis også været med til at forankre min identitet. På trods af, at deres musik måske ikke er så relevant for mig mere, har de på en måde taget ny form – nogle tekster, jeg ikke forstod før forstår jeg pludselig, og omvendt. Hvis jeg var stødt på dem idag havde min fascination nok mere taget form som nysgerrighed og morskab, end egentlig kærlighed. Alligevel vil der altid være et specielt kammer i mit hjerte til Placebo, og min drøm om at få deres vinge-logo tatoveret på ryggen er ikke død endnu. Placebo har for mig betydet, at jeg har følt mig tryg og godt tilpas i situationer der ellers ville have fået mig til at stejle. De har været med til at få mig til at føle mig tilpas i min egen krop og mit eget sind. De har sågar givet mig utallige venner, jeg stadig ser, da det ikke længere er bandet der holder os sammen.

Jeg er sikker på, at mange, hvis ikke alle, har et band, en bog, en film, eller noget i den dur, der har betydet enormt meget for dem i deres teenageår. Placebo er mit. Hvad er jeres?

Om Parks And Recreation

tirsdag den 5. marts 2013


For et års tid siden blev jeg ved et tilfælde introduceret til Parks and Recreation, en amerikansk comedy-serie, der handler om en gruppe mennesker i en lille by i Indiana, der arbejder for det offentlige. Det lyder umiddelbart ikke særlig spændende, og den første sæson overbeviste mig heller ikke på nogen måde, men jeg gav ikke op, og hvor er jeg dog glad for det den dag idag.
Selve serien minder meget om The Office i opbygning; den er filmet i stil med en mockumentary og har ind imellem talking heads med hovedpersonerne, den er mere karakterdrevet end situationsdrevet, og humoren er generelt meget deadpan.

Som sagt er første sæson ikke specielt overbevisende, men det har den tilfælles med mange andre serier – de skal finde ben at stå på. Anden sæson er langt bedre, og når først de to nye karakterer, Ben Wyatt og Chris Traeger, bliver introduceret i slutningen af anden sæson, er man helt og aldeles overtalt. Serien har en glimrende rød tråd, men formår også at udvikle sig enormt. De to første sæsoner omhandler vor hovedperson Leslie's kamp for at få lavet Lot 48, en grund i Pawnee, hvor serien foregår, om til en park. I slutningen af anden sæson går Pawnee konkurs, og for at redde sit og sine venners job, går Leslie i tredje sæson i gang med at arrangere en lokal festival der ellers ikke er blevet afholdt i årevis. Jeg vil så vidt muligt undgå at spoile noget der sker efter det, men i fjerde og femte sæson kommer der, igen, store ændringer til serien, og det er enormt forfriskende at se en komedieserie, der tør afvige fra sit grundlag og prøve nye ting, samtidig med at karaktererne fortsætter med at være enormt velskrevne og konsistente, men også rykker sig personligt.

Noget, én af mine gode venner bemærkede efter at have set de første par sæsoner, som jeg ikke selv havde tænkt over, er at showet er bemærkelsesværdigt godmodigt i forhold til mange andre nutidige tv-shows. I en serie som for eksempel The Big Bang Theory går langt størstedelen af humoren ud på, at vi skal grine af de mærkelige nørder og de aparte ting, de siger og gør. Man griner af dem. I Parks and Recreation griner man med karaktererne, og det synes jeg simpelthen er så forfriskende at se!

Parks and Recreation er blevet mit safehouse – hvis jeg har en dårlig dag tager jeg et par afsnit, og så er det pludselig ret svært at være trist. Jeg håber personligt, at serien bliver taget op til en sjette sæson, og at den bliver inspirationsgrundlag for en ny bølge af amerikanske TV-serier.  
 

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