So I’ve got to admit: I’m something of a masochist. I don’t need to be diapered and have a large woman step on my head or anything…but I’ve got a knack for lengthy, grueling travel. I post this at 3 AM from the Vancouver airport in the middle of a long but cheap(ish) transit to Beijing (PEK). ATL – YYZ (that’s Toronto for non Rush fans), YYZ-YVR 12 hour layover – PEK. About 30 hours total. The reason is usually economic. Like coming home from Sydney in Feb I did SYD-PEK-LAX-ATL. People groan and moan when they hear this, but then I’m the fool who has logged some 15k miles on Greyhound buses. Planes usually aren’t as bad. But then those timezones can be a proper bitch. But in the end it’s about miles vs. dollars. As long as it doesn’t go on too long, temporary wounds will heal.

Anyway, lucked out and had empty seats around on both flights so far. But Air Canada has yet to feed me a meal. There was however a nifty outlet in the back of the seat in front and I got to rock the new laptop (thanks again, blessed patrons!) during the longer flight. Slept a bit too and haven’t had to get into my OTC sleeping pill stash yet. Luckily there are some all night food spots in the airport that take US $. And free wifi. I’m not bitching…yet. As it’s Canada, they’re blasting hockey stats and hi-lights, which I don’t mind. And there isn’t even a Canadian team left in the playoffs, bless their lil hearts, eh? It’s the Stanley Cup, America! US Football is a facile war simulation with too many stops, and don’t even get me started on NASCAR…

I wasn’t the biggest Beastie Boys fan on Earth, but in the 90′s definitely had my moments. They were certainly a band “of my generation”, at least for a time. Let me assure any who weren’t around to remember, when Check Your Head came out (’93? naw looked it up – ’92), it was played everywhere. And MCA was my favorite one, damn.

*word A.R.E., had a mislabeled photo I didn’t crosscheck. You a born editor, yo*

I just want to take a moment for reflection before I head back to China on Monday. I’m going back sooner than I’d like, partly due to family housing chaos, also a desire to “get back to my own life”. It’s not a recession heartbreak story or anything, and they’d rather I not discuss it anyway, the short version is my family with two young kids are having to move quickly, while also doing renovations.

And then there is the status of my other friends in town. This is more of a “getting old” thing. While I drink more than I should myself, other’s drinking habits are getting to levels that just aren’t fun anymore. Everyone is too busy in general, and obviously their own families take priority. Those with the kids are on that treadmill, and those without see the window closing and are all about expensive chemistry and adoption. What’s with my Peter Pan ass who still just obsesses on partying and media like I always have? I don’t feel like I’m missing out on those big steps, I’m just not interested at all. And the international “gaggle of travelers”, always a loose group at best, just aren’t staying in touch. Is it my lack of interest in Facebook keeping me so far out of the loop? Not really.

Add to this I’m moving to the second biggest city on Earth where at least in the short run I won’t have an excess of money, to work for a company I know nothing about. But when the offer came up it was like a life raft out of the current local instability. So I’ve chosen my latest turn in the labyrinth and will go where it leads. In short I’m having a sort of “you can’t go home again” blues crossed I suppose with 21st century blues. I need to remember that things could be much worse. I’m not sure what exactly I’d want different at the moment. Maybe peace and quiet, but I certainly won’t be heading into that…

*Also for a general reader note: the blog is blocked by The Great Firewall and posts may become less frequent, as they were the last time I was living in China. But hopefully my tech support will come through and put up a post for me now and again.*

A buddy got me to come out and see The Melvins again last night while I’m still in ATL. They are one of the few bands that can get me out these days, and while I wasn’t especially blown away by the venue or the show, I did a lot of thinking about my history with the band while watching. And I’m overdue for a post anyway…

Back in the early 90′s I was urged by Lampert and Tanner (of Harvey Milk fame) to go see them in Athens. Their band at the time, Clamp, was definitely Melvins influenced. I didn’t go, wasn’t into it from what I’d heard. Notice how I don’t mention what I was into… let’s just say plenty of the wrong shit. Hell, those might have been the days when Shirley Black was still on bass. Undoubtedly it was an uncrowded venue to be enjoyed by those in the know.

Anyway, at some point I got it and have seen at least a dozen shows since. When trying to think back to a “best”, they run together. But Bottom of the Hill in SF in ’96 stands out. I know at some point I got to see Honey Bucket live, but didn’t ejaculate, then implode as one might imagine, nor can I remember which show. The tale I want to tell was out in PDX, @ Berbati’s Pan, I want to say…2000 or 2001.

I decided to take some X and go. This drug and this band might not be an immediate combo for many, nor is it really my drug, but theory proved correct and the intensity of bass (Kevin by then) and general sonic mayhem twisted my spine. You know, in a good way. When it was over, I went out to where my bike was hitched to discover my front tire was missing. At that very moment, I heard a grinding crunch and saw sparks fly, as a vehicle out on 3rd ran over, then dragged it. Strangely, I knew the couple driving. His sweet ride was undamaged, but the 10-speed’s wheel was fucked. Who would do such a thing? Remove someones bike tire, then chuck it into the road for no reason? As I spacily pondered this mystery, unlocking my bike and preparing for the long walk home, I realized I’d inadvertently also locked someone else’s bike to the hitch inside my lock. A ha, mystery solved – I’m the asshole. Now the payback. I’ve often found, at least for me, I often commit the error not while on the drugs, but distracted with the drugs, before I take them. I slunk away, found a friend, started walking and babbling, smiling broad through my stupidity.

And another non drug Melvins memory: coming back East from PDX in ’94, in a drive-away red Volvo with Purcell. My driving shift had gone through night into dawn. We were in Nebraska. Lysol in the tape deck. That’s right junior, I said tape deck; not loud, as Chris was asleep, but as I drove, without coffee, sticking a finger occasionally in a container of Country Time Lemonade mix to help stay awake, I had a perfect Lysol moment. Speeding into the rising sun. Empty road. Rolling green small hills and planes all around. Drone and pound. Doomed warrior races on in a trance. Angry and dark and happy, exhausted and rejuvenated at the same time. That’s quite a bit to bring out of two chords, some symbols and toms…

I had two interviews via skype the other night. The first school wanted a teacher for little kids only. While I don’t mind the little ones, I think early age group all the time, day in day out would be exhausting. The second one seemed to go well. It’s Beijing, which I have loved over the course of some half a dozen visits by now, and the money seems right. I’ll have to get the proper lodging to make sure that equation works. But will I find at least a year of Beijing day in, day out exhausting? We’ll see. I’ll still be in the States a month to six weeks while I sort out the visa, flight and other details. Then on to the Big B…

When I was walking around Melbourne last month on a pathetic budget, I saw plenty of things I wanted to buy. Included was this coffee table book by Nick Nostitz called Patpong: Bangkok’s Twilight Zone discounted in one of the great discount bookstores down there. Then when I got some money, I bought it and have just now enjoyed reading the text bits, which are mostly notes on the characters photographed, quotations which seem to be things overheard in many cases, and one insightful ex-pat interview.

The Bangkok I love doesn’t even really include Patpong. I’m not sure I’ve ever been there. Maybe late night, a tuk tuk has taken me somewhere on the edge. And one evening I spent with this guy Glen, we wandered by, as he lived quite close, and we were in wandering state of mind. But I’ve never “done” Patpong: intentionally immersed myself in the district, never done the ping pong show etc. But of course much of what is documented goes for the city in general, and similar scenes elsewhere in Asia.

There are some great photos (though I wish I had the full version of the one above with the dog as well, which is the dust jacket for the book) and an unapologetic and real look at that scene, or as it was in the ’90s. I definitely recommend it, especially if you’ve ever enjoyed certain works of WT Vollmann, Hollebecque, or Bukowski – though this has nothing to do with Bukowski’s LA…well, maybe 70′s LA…in a way. Anyway, Nostitz is still in Thailand working on other projects, maybe a bit more political in feel but I sense still with a heart “in the street/scene”.

My second niece was born the morning of March 18. No photo at this time but all in the family are well and growing.

One of several great graffiti lanes in the Central Business District (CBD) of Melbourne. The video is a quick stroll down one side of the lane; below, close ups of some of the work.