I recall a small incident which happened recently...

We had been longing to visit Shirdi Sai Dham since the begining of this year. But somehow neither did I get to take leave from work nor Sanjeev was free. Finally, we decided to go... I managed to take leave from office and planned a short trip. It was 14 Aug 2008 and I had to wind up too much of work in the office before leaving. The weather was so pleasant and it was raining in the morning when I left from home to office. By 4'O clock, it was thunder and rain and the sky became completely dark. I had to catch my train at 7.30 pm. Somehow, I managed to leave the office in that bad weather and reached home for final touch on the packing. Sana and Ana were so excited that they did not want to wait anymore after getting ready. The taxi we booked did not turn up and no other taxi was available. Thanks to Sanjeev's friends. He dropped us to the station. We reached the platform at 7.00 pm. "Train no. 2498 is delayed by 20 minutes from its scheduled time of 7.30" an announcement was made. Then another...40 minutes late and then another...60 minutes late. In that humid weather, we waited with our luggage at one corner of the wet and filthy platform. Suddenly I hit some huge packages that were kept leaning towards the wall in that corner on which it was written ARMY. The two young men who were accompanying the luggage did not seem to be from ARMY. I was a bit concerned and expressed the same to Sanjeev. He asked from one of them " what is there is these packages". "Its beddings sir" came the reply after a minute.

I saw these two young men loitering. It is not rare to see young people loitering on street corners, or outside distinct places within towns (such as shops, filling stations, liquor stores, platforms or busy public places). One of those guys, having a weird look, took out an expensive mobile from his pocket. He glared at his cell, then put it in his ear and repeated the same action again and gain. Since I was a bit suspicious, I kept an eye on at his actions.

A group of young girls, wet, holding each other feeling a bit uncomfortable, were managing their luggage to sit on it. It seems they were students and were going home during the weekend. 

Suddenly I saw the guy is clicking pictures of the girls sitting on their luggage on his mobile camera. Already suspicious, I became extra attentive. He kept on taking the picture of those girls from different angles and starting behaving like a desperate guy or a 'broker'. I told Sanjeev the act of the guy and he became furious. He moved forward and was about to talk to the guy when my daughter called him to get water for her. I felt like snatching away his mobile and give slap to him. He saw me in great anger with furious eyes. He turned his face and stood. Then I thought to go and tell those girls what this guy was taking their pictures. In the meantime the girls rushed since their train had arrived at some other platform. Changing his location after they left, he started eying on a girl standing next to him with her brother and father. I wanted to take the picture of that guy in my cell but there was an announcement of arrival of our train. I started looking for Sanjeev who went to fetch water.

We quickly boarded the train and the incidence which took place few minutes back was disturbing me. I kept on thinking why we are not able do anything in such circumstances. Radio city is campaigning for 'Celebrating Change in Delhi', What change are we celebrating? Is it the roads, flyovers, malls, or the Olympics? Why don't we think of bringing change in ourselves? Why cant we change these individuals? Why do we celebrate for a small victory and forget about the real hardships of life? What if the picture that guy had taken are misused? The life of those girls will be ruined.

Had my eight year old daughter not asked for water, a massive fight could have taken place between my husband and the guy. Why such incidences keep on taking place? When Delhi, the capital of this country is not safe for women, where do we go? What will be the future of my daughters? I will spend sleepless night when they grow up to teenagers and may have to study far from us.

There are various NGOs which are silently working for women. A few names come to my mind instantly are: Shakti Vahini, STOP, Shakti Shalini etc. who are really making the change. They might not be celebrating this change, but they are creating change in the lives of some women, girls and even minors. What are we waiting for? We need to start this at every home to bring a 100% change. So let's begin the real journey to drive this menace out of Delhi atleast...

Yup Yup. James is playing at Radio City on September 19, and I am thrilled. This just may be the night to bust out that inner 13-year-old and hang around the stage door afterwards. I'm not typically one to do that sort of thing, but my favorite band ever is not typically one to play in the States either, so here I make an exception.  I can see it now: me and the English ex-pat version of Ashley Ferl, clutching hands and histrionically bursting into tears at the first sign of Tim Booth.

Smartypants isn't much in the mood to utilize the brain power needed to craft an in-depth album review right now, so I'll let the BBC tell you what a stellar piece of musical expression their new album, Hey Ma, is.

Nonetheless. They are not the headliners at Radio City, surprisingly. No, James is actually the opening act for....um....Squeeze.

Yeah, I know. I don't get it either. Should be interesting, watching all the James fans stream out in droves after their set, going outside for a spliff, then dropping back in just in time to listen to "Tempted" out of a light curiousity and nostalgia for the 80's.

So anyway, in closing, I was once asked what my process is for blog posts. And why I do it at all! Well, it varies. But there's some general tendencies. However, now that I have recognized that I am little more than a lazy, self-deprecating Human Parrot, it seems using song titles conceived by people much more original and artistically industrious than I communicates a general sentiment much more effectively than using my own words probably could. Probably. Or not, but either way, it's unquestionably easier. Enough to sell me on it.

Who was I talking about? Oh yes. James!

Let's have some fun and pull some James song titles to illustrate what I might typically experience during a given drafting up of a blog post. And away we go!

Born of Frustration

I Know What I'm Here For

Pressure's On

Stutter

Everybody Knows

Oh My Heart

Shooting My Mouth Off

She's a Star

Live a Love of Life

Getting Away With It (All Messed Up)

Say Something

How Was It For You

So, that's kind of what it is. Kind of. On a rough, writers block kind of day. Which is- you know- mostly what- oh, whatever. Sunshine and rainbows, lollipops and lolcats, I'm doing wonderfully.

Or at the very least, I'm seeing my favorite band ever next month.

In closing.....well, I was gonna quote Oscar Wilde, something about gutters and stars or whatever, but I forget how it goes now. So I guess I'll just leave off with.....well.....

How Was It For You?

XOXO,

IWJS

Juliet Roberts - Caught In The Middle (My Heart Beats Like A Drum) (Klass Universal Mix)

En låt som får en att drömma sig tillbaka till mitten på 90-talet och Café Opera. Annars så snurrade den här låten rätt friskt i min freestylebandare när jag åkte tunnelbanan till jobbet. Bodde ju två år i Sthlm och även om jag inte trivdes med att bo i storstaden så har man ju sina ljusa minnen. Lyssnade väldigt mycket på Radio City då för de satsade rätt så friskt på just clubmusik och allra bäst var deras sändningar live från Café Opera på helgerna. Bäst blev det de kvällarna då man laddat bandaren hemma för att spela in programmet och man själv var inne i stan på just Café Opera för att på plats njuta av den underbara musiken. Gillade det stället för det var så underbart blandad publik, inte alls snobbigt även om det var rätt så kändistätt. Men jag var mest intresserad av baren och musiken och den här låten får mig alltid att minnas alla sena nätter det bidde.

För den som inte hört den här låten innan kan introt upplevas som långt och tradigt men låten kom i den perioden då man verkligen "mixanpassade" låtarna så att man skulle kunna mixa olika låtar i långa utdragna mix. Redan på 70-talet var det iofs en våg med sådana mixar men jag upplevde det som att det var en rejäl revival av det fenomenet just i mitten på 90-talet. Hur som helst, tycker ni introt är jobbigt så spola fram till 2:20 så kommer själva klimax på introt, något som garanterat ger ståpäls om man gillar underbart pianospel och vacker sång.

Tjillevippen

notbugs

It also took me back this post, where I'd talked about the relevance of mass media to pure play internet entities. In a warped sense, I'd agree with the article that in a true convergence era, a medium like the internet, which has already absorbed user participation as one of its tenets, would play a larger role in shaping media consumption. So much so, that going forward, I'd bet heavily on an entity like Instablogs, which would find it easier to adopt to platforms like the television or radio. Yes, they got funded too, isn't that just awesome?

Which also brings me to another layer of thought, something I've touched upon earlier, if mass media entities want to test out the wild wild web and the currently hot social media scene, and what it could do for them, what is the better way of doing it - creating their own scene or leveraging existing popular platforms. I came across examples of both kinds today.

While NYT is perhaps the best newspaper website in the world, it also plays a bit on social media (check out this facebook app). And today I read about the partnership it had entered into with LinkedIn. LinkedIn users will now get their industry related news from the relevant sections of the NYT site, and these news will have a share option. I think that's an absolutely great way for LinkedIn to give a good value add to its users, and also stimulate conversations and for NYT, it creates a lot of relevance to the user, and will increase the website's pull. That's NYT's way of leveraging a relevant social business network.

The other thing that I came across is Radio City's new website. (thanks to @thej) I haven't done a complete tour yet, but it seems like they are primarily aiming at build communities there - a section called 'Friends of Music' has blogging, groups, finding colleagues(?!) and catching up with others attending gigs. In fact, the profile is also very orkut/facebook, and shows options for picking friends based on geography/music taste/school/workplace. Yes, i cringed at the last two too! It also has a calendar with some events already updated, and even has a karaoke section.  There is also an option to upload videos (upto 20MB) In addition, it attempts a Yahoo Launch by allowing you to create your own station by adding tracks. But I think it is also a way to take ownership of the music space - there is a musicopedia, a lyrics finder, a music news reporter and so on, which aims at making this the one stop resource for music in India. Yes, you can also listen to popular tracks, and stations created by users/ pre packaged ones (eg. KK, Alka Yagnik, though the content in this is limted, as of now). In essence, a decent effort, for trying the music ownership strategy, though from a new media perspective, I'd have liked more focus and efforts on podcasts (like Big FM), a talk show platform, better forums etc, instead of all that work on the orkut style social networking.(classmates and colleagues)

While I'd usually go with leveraging existing social media, i think  a part of Radio City's route does have its benefits, given the popularity of music and Bollywood in India, and its potential for creating communities especially with the context that Radio City offers. What they do beyond this would be the really interesting part.

until next time, tuned in

In other artist news Jermaine Rogers sent this email out to his fans.

This is just a quick note to remind any of you in the Manitou Springs, Colorado area that the formal opening of the DERO 72 Studios and Gallery will be happening this Friday, June 27th, starting around 5PM and going on until around 9PM.

There will be a lot of Jermaine Rogers artwork available, past and present...including some pieces that many of you have been searching out for YEARS. There will also be a variety of vinyl toy figures, regulars and rarities. There will be a selection of original artwork on display, a few pieces of which will be for sale. Various test-prints and proofs will be on hand, including many things that Jermaine has squirreled away over the years. There will also be several art prints that Jermaine has not yet released to the general public: these will be available in extremely limited quantity.

As many of you know, the studio/gallery has been opened for several weeks now...so, this 'opening' is a formal meet-and-greet of sorts. As we mentioned above, there will be quite a few things that Jermaine will have on hand for the event. The gallery is still in the final stages of initial set-up (we're still waiting for the custom lighted sign out front to be completed and delivered), but the hundreds who've visited the gallery so far have been pleased and impressed. Jermaine will be in attendance, as will studio/gallery assistants, Bianka and Dustin. Come on out if you're in the area: it should be a good time.

On a side note, we already have 2 separate guest artist showings planned at the DERO 72 gallery in the coming months. The 2 artists in question are masters in the field of poster art, and we're sure you'll be excited when we announce who they are. Each is creating work as we speak that will be featured in their respective showings. Jermaine will also collaborate with each artist for pieces that will be released during the showings. More news to come.

Thanks to the fine folks at NOWhere Limited Gallery for developing an efficient shipping program for us and for packing and sending our orders over the past year! Orders, including the most recent batch, are now shipping directly from DERO 72 Studios and Gallery. Questions about shipping and order fulfillment should be directed to: Jermaine@JermaineRogers.com

So, that's it. Remember, the DERO 72 Studios and Gallery are located at 934 Manitou Ave. (suite #103: in the historic Manitou Spa Building) Manitou Springs, Colorado 80829. The opening is at 5PM-9PM. For more info. call between noon and 5PM Sunday - Wednesday and between noon and 8PM Thursday - Saturday : 719-685-DERO (3376)

Next week, info on the Mars Volta European Tour 2008 print, new art prints, all the news on the Ween Summer Tour series featuring Jermaine and Todd Slater and (it's time again!) San Diego Comicon 2008!

Good times!

See all past Jermaine Rogers Rock Art Wednesday's here.

I distinctly remember in the late 1980s when the Japanese started to purchase significant amounts of American real estate in Hawaii.  The yen had improved and the US economy was struggling and Hawaii saw a substantial increase of Japanese tourists and subsequently Japanese investors.  It got to the point where local home buyers and investors in Hawaii were competing for the limited supply of real estate with investors from Japan, Taiwan, Korea, Hong Kong and Canada.  Once the Japanese investors bought up Honolulu and The Big Island, they set their eyes on the "The Big Kahuna”.  They came to Manhattan and purchased Rockefeller Center.  New Yorkers were up in arms!  Shocked!  Livid!

It was a matter of pride with New Yorkers and most Americans. The very idea that the center of journalistic and architectural modernity, Rockefeller Center, should belong to another country was beyond comprehension.  Things were THAT bad in America.

Rockefeller Center was named after John D. Rockefeller, Jr., who leased the space from Columbia University in 1928 and developed it from 1930.  It was the largest private building project ever undertaken in modern times. Construction of the 14 buildings in the Art Deco style began on May 17, 1930 and was completed on November 1, 1939 when he drove in the final (silver) rivet into 10 Rockefeller Plaza. Rockefeller Center is a magnificent complicated beauty.  Radio City Music Hall is a part of it. It’s the home of NBC and it’s where Saturday Night Live broadcasts from.  It is the home of the iconic Rockefeller Center Ice Skating Rink which we see in the background of so many movies.  It is where thousands gather each December to watch the lighting of “The Christmas Tree”.

In the late 80s, sadly, the Japanese purchased a major slice of America's apple pie.

Here we are in 2008, 20 years later and the Chrysler Building is for sale; the world's tallest brick building is now owned by the United Arab Emirates.   Another beautiful Art Deco building being purchased by a foreign country, this time the super-rich Abu Dhabi Investment Council is negotiating an $800 million deal for a 75 percent stake in the Art Deco treasure that has defined the Midtown skyline since 1930.

Last month the GM Building was sold with three other Macklowe/Equity Portfolio properties for $3.95 billion to a group of investors including the wealth funds of Kuwait and Qatar and Boston Properties.

Boston Properties closed on its purchase of the GM Building on Monday with investment partners Kuwait and Qatar, and will complete the purchase of three other former Macklowe properties over the next few months.

Developer Harry Macklowe was forced to sell the assets after taking a personal loan on the GM Building and other family assets to raise nearly $7 billion to buy a city package of former Equity Office buildings. The credit markets tanked right after completing that deal in July and Macklowe was unable to refinance the short-term debt causing him to sell the four buildings to Boston Properties and return the Equity portfolio to lender Deutsche Bank.

And so it continues.  Spurred by the weak dollar and the strong euro, European travelers to the U.S. have been lapping up everything from inexpensive ‘unmentionables’ to designer clothing in Manhattan to luxury condos in Palm Beach.

The latest casualty is the breathtaking and historic Flatiron building in Manhattan.  It was sold to a top Italian real estate investor.  Built in 1902, the 22-story Flatiron is instantly recognizable for its triangular shape at the intersection of Fifth Avenue, Broadway, and 23rd Street. The Flatiron is featured in the opening credits of the David Letterman show and serves as the fictional headquarters for the Daily Bugle in the recent Spider-Man movies. It has been a National Historic Landmark since 1989. The Flatiron's falling into foreign hands carries symbolic weight as international investors once again take advantage of the upheaval in the real estate market and weakness of the U.S. dollar.

Foreign companies were the buyers in four of the top 13 U.S. commercial real estate deals in 2007, according to Real Estate Alert newsletter. Another foreign acquisition of notable Manhattan real estate was the Dubai-based Jumeirah group's 2006 purchase of the Essex House on Central Park South.

America’s for sale – again.  Very sad but true. 

During the economic crisis of the 1980s, when the selling of America began, Ronald Reagan was President 1981-1989. 

Then came George H.W. Bush, he was President 1989–1993. 

Then came a democratic President, Bill Clinton.  He was President  from 1993 to 2001 and he corrected our fiscal problems and left office with a surplus budget of $559 billion.

Then came George W. Bush and once again, American is for sale.  Sad but true. 

The Congressional Budget Office has announced the deficit for fiscal 2008 is going to hit almost $220 billion, maybe more -- not counting war spending or an economic stimulus package.  That brings the deficit estimate to approximately $3 trillion dollars.

John McCain’s current fiscal plan would recklessly continue the fiscal irresponsibility of the Bush Administration.  McCain’s economic plan -- which includes a corporate tax cut and an extension of the Bush tax cuts -- would leave a debt of $12.7 trillion, the HIGHEST SINCE 1951 when America was still holding debt from World War II.  As impossible as it may seem, John McCain’s economic irresponsibility would be WORST than George W’s.

If we stay on this path, and continue to do the same stupid things; if we continue to elect Presidents who only care about their self interests.  If we continue to elect republicans, before we know it, the White House will be for sale.

Look at the facts, the republicans have left the economy in shambles each time they held office over the past 27 years.  With a republican President Americans got  poorer even though republicans got richer.

Think about it, do you want to be doing better four years from now? 

If the answer is ‘yes’, vote democratic.  Look at the facts, think about it.

America should not be for sale!

Paulette

"Going to California" - Led Zeppelin
"Aeroplane" - Red Hot Chili Peppers
"Coast to Coast" - Elliot Smith
"Crosstown Traffic" - Jimi Hendrix

Here's a recap of the past few days (5000 miles) -

Wednesday:

Three Roots in Tempe. Maybell Park (aka Stephen) played a lovely acoustic set before heading off on an 18-hour Greyhound trip to Yosemite. A very soulful guy. I made some new friends and thoroughly enjoyed my rice and beans. Played sans mic which is always fun and intimate and appreciated because people tend to be silent and I tend to not hit my head on the mic that isn't there.

Thursday:

Drove from Phoenix to LA. Left arm is now very tan.

Friday:

Flew to Atlanta over the desert I'd spent the better part of the week driving through and rented a sweet Elantra that reeked so badly of smoke that when I rolled the window down before leaving the lot the woman at the Hertz booth made a remark about the stench. At this point I was very exhausted and wanting to get on with my journey so I didn't switch cars. And, I confess, I enjoyed singing "Laaddaayyy... step inside my Hyundai" to myself over and over while driving to Roswell with all the windows down (saw Beck sing this while thrashing on a bed lowered from the ceiling of Radio City on Valentine's Day several years ago. That is the exact moment I officially became a woman). Note: the Elantra has a tiny rear windshield. Backing up scared me. Second Note: Eric Lichter does a spot-on version of "Debra".

As usual, the Georgian skies were magnificent. Stayed with the most incredible family I have ever met - the family of the Natalie I met in Austin last week. Her mom cooked a delicious veg dinner and took in this stranger like (my attention was just called to motorcycle revving outside and for a few moments I could not recall what state I was in. It's okay now - Los Angeles. I'll keep repeating that until it sticks) one of her own. I fell in love with these people. I realized immediately that the universe sent me to Atlanta not just to perform but to meet and be inspired by this family.

Something else that made me grateful - the plane didn't crash. That was a relief. Sat next to nice business man on his way back from Australia (28 hours - no, thanks) and devoured NYTimes. I usually get flight terror but I was quite happy not to be driving. I haven't had much reading time this trip. Also got Rolling Stone with 100 Greatest Guitar Songs and was fairly satisfied, although there are always going to be cruel omissions. When I saw YEM was included on the list I flipped out though - this is my fave Phish song and Phish has been overlooked throughout its career. Very exciting and well-deserved. One question that must be asked of RS - where are all the ladies at?

Saturday:

Slept embarrassingly late and enjoyed NYTimes again. Natalie's mom made me oatmeal and it tasted much better than when I make it, of course. Watched Hillary's beautiful speech - first TV for me in well over a month as I've made a point to cut it out of my diet. Trying to eliminate all forms of pollution. The way this election was manipulated by the media makes me sick. Not to mention all the mind-numbing shows (I want MY MTV). It's really overwhelming. I need silence.

Anyway - later had lunch with Natalie at Aladdin's in Roswell, GA. The Vegetarian Delight was delicious - basmati, hummus, baba ghanouj, tabouleh, falafel, pita - I give it a 10. Then I went to Eddie's Attic Shootout! Upon arrival I met The Smart Brothers, who ended up winning the competition (very deservedly!), and had the pleasure of hanging out on the porch with them as the sticky evening grew slightly less sticky. The Shootout was a lot of fun because Eddie runs it so well and the musicians were really down to earth - there were no egos backstage (which is pretty tremendous, considering there were 22 songwriters competing for $1000, recording time, and other goodies). Hung out with Arlo Finch and Dave McKnight, too - excellent songwriters and musicians and an absolute riot. Eddie's is always a good time.

Sunday (today):

After a mere two and a half hours of sleep I was back at Atlanta airport (the little girls banging around outside my motel room, who were just giggling deliriously, are now sobbing - when will these parents learn?). Got a nice fat Sunday Times and got to read all about my girl Hillary again. Also read a nice write-up of my buddies at WDVX, as Knoxville was featured in the Travel Section (okay, now one of the girls is screaming bloody murder. Laura might have to intervene.... That takes care of that. I thought they had to have been across the hall they were so loud, but they were several doors down. How do parents let their kids behave like this? Don't mess with an ex-nanny.) The smog over LA today was shocking. It was like being under a screened tent. However I was very happy to land, as this is probably my second favorite city in the US. I stopped at Merkato in Little Ethiopia and had the veggie combo - five different vegetables with tomato salad and tons of injera. The collard greens and cabbage were only fair - bland and oily, respectively - but the split peas and lentils were fantastic. It was enough for two hungry people and afterwards I was quite uncomfortable as Atlanta airport didn't really have veg options and I had worked up an appetite for two meals (okay - just had to call the front desk. These people don't want Laura knocking on their door again. Things could get ugly).

Checked into this noisy motel and showered and then sat in traffic for quite a bit and finally got to the beach. Only had an hour or so but it was enough to reset to ocean rhythm. Then went to a fantastic restorative yoga class at Exhale in Venice. Whereas some restorative classes go little beyond an hour-long child pose, the instructor, Aaron Reed, led us through a series of hamstring openers (hallelujah!) and a variation of supported fish pose that undid at least 1000 miles of driving. I loved this class, appropriately titled "Relax Deeply". If I went to this every Sunday I would be a different, better person.

Okay, I need to go to sleep. But now there's apparently a dog fight in the room above mine... can't put out the fires fast enough. You'd think people would be a little more considerate at midnight on Sunday. Playing fetch with your dogs? I have earplugs, and it's like they are right here in the room with me. I'm hearing at least three different barks. Ridiculous. If I ever get to sleep again - Room 5 show tomorrow night in LA!

PS Don't leave open chocolate bar in glove compartment unless you want fondue.

The Ultimate Road Mix So Far...

1. "Escapade" - Janet Jackson (May 6, 2008)
2. "Cars Trucks Buses" - Phish (May 7, 2008)
3. "Heart of the Country" - Paul & Linda McCartney (May 8, 2008)
4. "Why Georgia" - John Mayer (May 9, 2008)
5. "Runnin Down A Dream" - Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers (May 10, 2008)
6. "Sweet Home Alabama" - Lynyrd Skynyrd (May 11, 2008)
7. "I'm So Tired" - The Beatles (May 12, 2008)
8. "Tennessee Jed" - The Grateful Dead (May 13, 2008)
9. "Why Don't We Do It In The Road?" - The Beatles (May 14, 2008)
10. "Tennessee Blues" - Steve Earle (May 15, 2008)
11. "Consolers of the Lonely" - The Raconteurs (May 16, 2008)
12. "Midwest" - Sound Tribe Sector Nine (May 17, 2008)
13. "The Big Country" - Talking Heads (May 18. 2008)
14. "Everyday Is A Winding Road" - Sheryl Crow (May 19, 2008)
15. "Omaha (1994 - Live at Elysee Montmartre) - Counting Crows (May 20, 2008)
16. "Tonight I'll Be Staying Here With You" - Bob Dylan (May 21, 2008)
17. "Bandits" - Buck 65 (May 22, 2008)
18. "Is There Anybody Here That Love My Jesus" - Medeski, Martin, & Wood (May 23, 2008)
19. "Highway 61 Revisited" - Bob Dylan (May 24, 2008)
20. "Girl From the North Country" - Bob Dylan (May 25, 2008)
21. "Texas Flood" - Stevie Ray Vaughan (May 26, 2008)
22. "Hard Sun" - Eddie Vedder (May 27, 2008)
23. "Take Me To the River" - Talking Heads (May 28, 2008)
24. "Down South" - Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers (May 29, 2008)
25. "Southern Man" - Neil Young (May 30, 2008)
26. "Southern Cross" - Crosby, Stills & Nash (May 31, 2008)
27. "She's Leaving Home" - The Beatles (June 1, 2008 - Sgt. Pepper anniversary!)
28. "Road to Nowhere" - Talking Heads (June 2, 2008)
29. "Road Rage Breakdown" - Blockhead (June 3, 2008)
30. "Il buono, il brutto, il cattivo" - Ennio Morricone (June 4, 2008)
31. "Going to California" - Led Zeppelin
32. "Aeroplane" - Red Hot Chili Peppers
33. "Coast to Coast" - Elliot Smith
34. "Crosstown Traffic" - Jimi Hendrix

I first heard this song on FM radio one morning when I was rushing to office. The tune captivated me instantly. I thought at first that this was the ad jingle for some product. So I waited without changing the channel to find out what product that might be. To my surprise, it turned out to be a song. But right after the song got over, there was a commercial break and I didn't get to know which movie it was from. The first Google Search [GS] I ran that morning was for this song. I landed at a blog which told me that this song is inspired by another folk song and it was featured in a movie called "Kalai Pani". I ran a GS for the movie but no luck. Work beckoned and I had to stop the searching. But the tune kept coming back to me all day.

That night again I tried GS. This time with spelling variations and Voila!! I found a online music station where I could hear it. I played it over and over a dozen times and meanwhile I found a place to download the song too. I was totally hooked on to it.
You can check it out here.

The tune resembles a rhyme I learnt in nursery.

Oh dear, what can the matter be (3)
Jhonny's so long at the fair.
He promised to by me a bunch of blue ribbons(3)
To tie up my bony brown hair.

The simple lyrics steal my heart and the tune is so damn haunting. Its almost like a lullaby. I played the song to my mom and she thought the same. The voice is flat yet endearing. The violin background in the interlude is too good.The song is about a small girl (I assume) who has lost her doll and how she misses it.

The Actual lyrics:

Ennamma thozhi bommaya kaanom
Naa enna seiya poren
Thala vari pinni, pookkal vaithu
Pudhu chattai pottu vittu..
Ippasi masam kaveri snanam...
Bommaya vaangi vandhen
Thaalattu naan pada kanmooda mattayo
Maraindha podhum... manadhil ennum ...
Malarodu pesum mazhalai geetham ..

Maranam ella varam kettu...
Maru jenman ondrirundhal maari vidum...
Mugam madhiyo udal nadhiyo...
Melliya kai viralgal pulveliyo....
Kaalai pozhudhellam kaathirukkum
Ival vizhi kaanamal kalai izhakkum...

Ennamma thozhi...

When I opened last Friday's paper, I saw that this movie was releasing that day!! Its a small budget decent movie. That makes it eligible to fall in the slip-the-public-notice-and-sink-without-a-trace category. Anyways the song is worth hearing. And if you live in Chennai, "Radio City" plays it once in a while because their RJ Sulabha is the voice behind this haunting number.

In her youth, she must have made the train ride into Penn Station hundreds of times. Today was different; New York is now a stranger to her, but her dreams of New York had rekindled her fire, and given her the strength to escape to a new reality.

She stepped into the crowd; now, she was just one of thousands. Another anonymous body, carried away by the tide of humanity. Here, she was a nobody, instead of back home where she was the bastard’s pitied wife. She let herself be moved along, part of the current, swimming on dry land to the escalators that would raise her to the street level. Coming from the hot, dry air of Penn Station, the winter weather of Seventh Avenue caught her off guard. She drew her coat nearer, wrapping the long scarf once more around her neck.

She walked up Seventh and crossed over. She elbowed her way across the street, then smiled as she caught her long unused City skills back in her immediate memory. She paused in front of Macys to watch the people as they spun through the revolving door, almost as though they were dancing their way in to throw money at the salespeople.

Continuing onward, something different was in the air. The smells of The City were treasured memories come alive – chestnuts, pretzels, exhaust, hot dogs and sweat. But there was something new she couldn’t place. Turning her head, she found the source; men tossing peanuts in sugar syrup. The enticing scent of caramelized peanuts was immediately added to the perfume in her head.

She had forgotten how cold the wind could be as it whipped up the Avenue. She rubbed her nose with her gloves and walked more briskly, hoping to make it to Times Square without the need for amputation of her facial features. She pulled the scarf up over her mouth and a bit of her nose, so that the exhale would warm her lower face.

As she walked along Seventh, she passed the statue of the tailor and his sewing machine. An unbidden smile crossed her face. On their first date, they walked this path, taking turns posing for silly photos. She remembered gleefully swinging around the giant sewing needle like a child on a maypole. So long ago; years before his brazenness had sacrificed her on the pyre of public humiliation. She shrugged off both the happy memory and the anger, focusing only on vengeance as she continued her journey.

As she drew closer to the heart of New York’s tourist mecca, she recalled how much it both excited and exasperated her. There is something about Times Square that caused adrenaline to rise in even the calmest of souls. All the neon, all the drama, all the energy that bounced back and forth between the corridors thronged with humanity. Her pulse raced and her heart beat faster as she entered the magic kingdom.

She marched purposefully through the crowds, destination fixed. She glanced around, everything seemed so clean and sanitized, particularly when contrasted with the recollections of her youth. So much had changed since Greg had forbidden her to visit the City eight years ago. She had been young then; at least she was not yet old.

Looking left, she expected to see the store where, as a teenager, she had bought her first fake ID. It was now yet another fast food store, serving imitation food where imitation adults were once created. Back then, twenty one seemed so far away; now it was just a pleasant, long ago memory.

She found her path blocked by a horde of teenage girls. Movement halted, she followed their gaze upward and connected with the MTV studios. As a teen, she would have killed to hang out here. Now, she just wanted to kill these wide eyed, text messaging teens for interrupting her stride. She shook it off; inhaled deeply, enjoying the little rush she got from the combination of icy cold air and exhaust fumes. Regaining control, she made a wide arc around the girls, avoiding eye contact. She escaped their trap unscathed, heaving a sigh of relief.

She stopped where the TKTS booth should be. It was missing. How could that be? She looked around, but saw no sign. Where the trailers once stood, she saw plywood. Perplexed, she crossed the street, hoping to solve the glitch in her plan. She had spent far too much time and energy on this plot to be sidetracked by the disappearance of a landmark.

Music blared. She looked in its direction and saw a sign for ‘The Charmin Bathrooms.’ As good a place as any to gather her thoughts, so she moved in that direction. The sound of the Charmin Cha Cha Cha blared at decibels reserved for heavy metal concerts. It startled her, but she kept moving. She pushed the door open and quickly stepped onto the escalator. It stretched three stories high; she felt the air thinning as she neared the top. Finally, the ride ended and she joined the line, winding around velvet ropes attached to metal pylons.

As she worked on plan B, her brain was numbed by the repetitive sound of the cha cha cha. Time passed slowly and the music looped endlessly. After what seemed like an hour of water board torture, but was actually seven minutes of cha cha cha torture, she closed the door to her stall. Thankfully, the music was muted due to dozens of rolls of toilet paper. Business handled, she sat quietly. In the muffled silence of the stall, she cleared the extraneous thoughts. Almost immediately, a plan became clear. She rearranged her clothes and prepared to descend into the frigid December air.

Stepping out of her comfort zone, immediately, she was asked to dance by a costumed bear, dancing alongside a woman wearing short shorts and a tank top. She brushed the bear off and asked the woman, “What happened to the TKTS Booth?” “Renovations. There’s a temporary booth over by the Marriott.” She nodded her thanks. The woman reached into her tiny back pocket and handed over a toilet paper coupon, all without missing a beat of the dance. Coupon in hand, she shrugged off the clip board equipped, poll taking, model wannabees who guarded the downward escalator, and headed back to the street.

Stepping onto Broadway, she found it imperative to escape the incessant sound of the music. She quickly crossed up and over, and she smiled slyly as she reviewed her plan. Plan B was actually better than Plan A. This would be sweet.

She pulled the restaurant door open with assurance. As much as she loathed this place, it was perfectly suited for poetic justice. There was a large line to check in. Those already on the list waited along the corridor sides. Folks stared at their large, clear plastic pagers as if their glare alone would cause them to light up and vibrate, allowing them seating at a nearby table. The smell of the pseudo Italian food made her crave the real thing.

Greg had taken her here on their second date. He thought it was funny; with all the amazing Italian restaurants within feet of this place, tourists queued up to dine here. As a reward, they were served huge helpings of bland, flavorless, genuine imitation pasta product. That should have warned her that Greg was far from genuine. Instead of appreciating the comfort these out of towners found dining in a familiar place, Greg chose to be snide, snarky and overly impressed with his own self-importance. Back then, she thought it sexy and sophisticated. Now, after discovering his not so secret life, she knew Greg’s actions had been indicative of the true nature of his soul – dark, callus, mean spirited and cruel.

She remembered the way to the ladies room, and entered it without hesitation. She put her bag on the sink, carefully avoiding the big puddle of soapy water in the middle. She took out the debit card to which she had affixed a sticker reading, “Today is your lucky day. This debit card is worth $1,000. You can use it as you want or take it to the nearest ATM. The pin number is 3796. You can withdraw up to $500 today and another $500 tomorrow. It has been arranged. It is my gift to you. Merry X-mas. Love, Santajew.” With a satisfied smile she taped the card to the mirror, exited the restroom, and sauntered out of The Olive Garden.

She walked towards Rockefeller Center as her pulse quickened. Two more tasks, then she would escape to a warm climate. Justice and revenge, all in the same mix, planned to a perfection. She was glad to realize that when precipitated by extreme betrayal and anger, she remained capable of solving it all with her top notch planning.

She had believed in him. Trusted him. Loved him. In exchange, he had lied, cheated, stolen and broken her heart. But she was smart. Smarter and braver then he ever noticed. She had planned carefully; by the time the new day dawned, he would be ruined and she would start her new life.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the thousands of tourists who milled about in front of Radio City. Where do they all come from, she wondered, as another bus unloaded its stream of camera toting, waist-pouch wearing passengers. Girding herself to enter the nucleus of Christmas hell, she moved towards the Tree. Her usual, long stride was hampered by the press of people; she could move no more than an inch or two per step. As she came within a few feet of the Tree, she almost backed out; the hajj mentality of these people scared her. What was it about this tree bedecked in strands of bulbs that beckoned all these people to pay homage?

Somehow, she made it to the edge of the skating rink. She and Greg skated here once. She thought it romantic; he told her he just liked skating and being able to ruin holiday photos by giving the finger to the onlookers. She had been such a fool. She should have seen the signs.

She carefully removed one of the two packets of post-it affixed bills from her bag, splitting the contents between both hands. When the wind blew north, she lifted one hand over the rink and let the bills fly. With the other hand, she waited for the breeze to pass, than she spun around, throwing the dollars up and towards the people near the Tree. She watched as they floated downward, moving quickly from the rail, as shouts of joy and chaos began to sound. How she loved this City.

She race walked from the chaos, hearing happy shouts from those claiming money. She could picture Greg’s face, horrified by her generosity. She would have suffered his wrath in the past for giving but a dollar to a homeless jug. She threw back her hood, pulled down her scarf and laughed, “Don’t worry Greg; it was from your personal account, not mine. I guess you get to be Santajew this year.”

As she moved down Fifth Avenue, her eye was caught by a woman and two small children, huddled together in the cold. Something looked wrong. They didn’t look like beggars, but they also didn’t look like they belonged on this affluent boulevard of dreams and desires. The woman saw her looking, and explained, “My husband left us here two days ago. He had our plane tickets home, our money and our bags. I don’t know what happened to him. But we’re cold, hungry and scared.” Looking at the children, she knew it was the truth. She reached into her bag and pulled out a packet of cash, glad she hadn’t thrown it all out at Rockefeller Rink. Along with the Charmin coupon, she handed the woman $2,500 cash, each bill affixed with the Santajew post-it, like those she shared at the Tree. She said, “Merry Christmas. Santajew at your service.” Before the woman could say or do anything, she rushed off. Instantly, she was again part of the crush of anonymous humanity, scurrying down Fifth Avenue.

The Empire State Building. Final stop in her ‘payback’s a bitch’ tour. Entering the art deco lobby, she replayed the moment that changed her life. It was here, under the gold bas relief of the Empire State Building, Greg had asked her to marry him. Most folks went up to the Observation Deck for a moment like that, but Greg was too cheap to buy tickets. It was here that she said yes, accepting that tacky, cheap, silver and turquoise ring that had caused her finger to break out in a scaly rash. The perfect place to hammer the final showcase nail in his coffin.

She watched the people rush through the lobby, passing the backlit paintings of the Eight Wonders of the Modern World without ever seeing them. Kind of the way she had entered her marriage to Greg. And just like the way Greg had treated her these past years. She had changed that today. She was right on schedule. She took the final plan item from her bag, a $2,000 debit card, pin number and Santajew note attached. After kissing it goodbye, she taped it to the sign that describing the Empire State Building.

Without a backwards glance, she exited the lobby. The limo she had hired was waiting. They drove towards the midtown tunnel and she was content. In less than four hours, she would be on a plane to Greece. In just over 24 hours, Greg would return from his weeklong bimbo tryst in the Caribbean. He still perceived her as only his loyal, devoted, blindered wife, waiting patiently for his return. But she knew. Not only was he cheating on her; he was paying for his lifestyle with money embezzled from her father’s company. But she had been forced to spend too many hours alone, watching and reveling in those New York City revenge movies, and they had given her a PhD in payback.

Monday, she had moved their joint assets to an offshore account. On Tuesday, she had emptied his secret safe deposit box, placing most of that money into another off shore account along with the purchase of a few discretionary debit cards and cash stashes. When she had discovered the extent of his transgressions, she had secretly listed the house, which had been in her name only, on the market. She had sold and moved from it on Wednesday. On arrival, he would discover he was broke, single, homeless and about to be arrested. In her head was the image of Greg trying to unlock the front door of what had been their house, only to discover it was no longer home. It gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling.

If and when Greg found the letter she left on his desk at the office, he would be livid. Especially when he read about Santajew. He hated holidays, good deed doing, and charitable causes with a passion. Throughout their marriage, whenever she did something generous or good, for weeks he would maliciously taunt her with the nickname, Santajew.

Cindy had reclaimed Santajew thanks to his money and her passion. She smiled. Payback. New York style.

By: Lauren J. Walter  1/15/08

Like the train, most buses leave from Union Station, but there is a new bus company called Vamoose that leaves from Arlington and Bethesda. Since Bethesda is 5 minutes away from Chevy Chase, we chose to use them. The bus is supposed to take four-five hours. We left at 9:30 on a weekday, but since it was a holiday we hit no traffic at all, and got there in nearly exactly four hours. From Penn station, it was only a couple blocks via taxi to our hotel.

Today we sort of just walked around and figured out the area we were in. We really should have hopped on one of the buses today. We didn't now that the passes were good for two days, if we did, we could have started going around the city. Oh well, hindsight.

First thing we did today was walk down to Time Square, which is very close to our hotel.

We walked over a few blocks and found Rockafeller Center and Radio Center Music Hall

From there we went over to 5th Ave, which of cours was very trendy and expensive, and had a beautiful Cathedral.

I <3 Sailors