"You're 'here' and cervical cancer is 'here'"

Thus spoke my gynecologist yesterday as he spread his arms wide and made two fists--one demonstrating my cervix and the other cancer. And while the distance between the two was vast, I still cringed when he told me I'd had two bad pap smears in a row, thereby making it to the bonus round for my first ever Colposcopy complete with biopsy, if needed.

Yeah, so I know--it's a fairly common procedure and one in which many women have walked--er, hobbled away from it dysplasia-free, but fuck you if you've never had it done and you think it's a walk in the park. In fact, I would personally like to come to your house and drag you down the street on your nose. A mile or so would do. That would give you a rough idea how much slicing off a piece of my cervix will hurt me. And just how do I know this? I've had an endometrial biopsy before where they take the equivalent of a juicebox straw, thread it into your cervix and scrape off a piece of your endometrial lining just to have a nice look-see. So basically anything, unless of course it's a blunt object belonging to the opposite sex, touching my cervix is a no-no and certainly one that involves sharp edges is just flat-out wrong.

Since I have to have this done sooner than later, I've thought about having Pa wheel me straight from having my wisdom teeth pulled to the Colposcopy table across town.

I wonder if the twilight drugs will last that long?

The Dandy Warhols/Brian Jonestown Massacre at the Showbox

Initially when I heard the double bill was playing down in Portland, before they announced their date up here in Seattle, I had visions of sneaking Mr. Na into the show since Pa was slated to be in Europe. But alas, no sneaking was required and I happily plunked down $30 for a ticket to see both bands here at the Showbox--still, to me, one of the best venues in town if you want to get up close and personal and the like.

I expected the worst from Anton Newcombe, given his history of unstable behavior during shows and so I retreated to the upper bar area, back by the sound board so I could watch the fireworks from above and stay out of any barroom brawls. But actually, Newcombe was quite subdued--if subdued is the right word for it. I'm not quite sure what illegal substance he was snorting onstage, but it only affected his banter and not his musical skills. For what it's worth, he's an incredible musician and the band he brought was complimentary to his talent.

Maybe it was the heat and the fact that we were all packed like sardines in a sweaty, smelly can--but by the time the Dandy Warhols came onstage, I was wilted. I think, too, the fact that Pa had just flown in after two weeks of being in France and England, took a cab home, showered, shaved and dressed, and took a cab to meet me in the Green Room at 11:30 p.m. (he didn't have a ticket to get into the show) may have had something to do with my waywardness...but honestly, the Dandys were just not as lively as they were last year. It seemed that they, too, suffered from jet lag and so I wandered to and fro to my Pernod-sipping husband who sat watching the bouncers chase after some hipsters who tried to sneak in.

I absolutely suck at taking pictures during concerts. I blame it on my Nikon Cool Pix which sucks ass; but this woman snapped some amazing photos which you'll have to see (note to CLR, she has some great Marah shots on her Flickr page!)

Des serpents dans l'avion

I know it's a crappy picture, but I couldn't resist.

Pa's back in Paris, giving yet another talk...and he just sent me this snap of a movie poster in the Opera District:



Or, to quote Samuel L. Jackson at the Cannes premiere:
"Serpents de Motherfucking sur un avion motherfucking!"

Backy Skanking at Bumbershoot!

Skavoovie, Loves!





Hard to believe I almost skipped last night's English Beat concert at Bumbershoot. The dog had hives, the kitchen sink was backed-up and I was still so very tired from our little trek out to the Gorge the night before. But I am sooooo glad I went because Dave Wakeling and the English Beat's special guest, Lynval Golding of The Specials were just utterly amazing! They played under the shadow of the Space Needle at the "Bumbrella" stage at 9:45 p.m. and despite the fact that it was one of the last shows of Bumbershoot, it was still packed cheek-to-jowl with Beat Girls and Boys--many of whom remember back in the day when Creepers were in vogue and boys wore porkpie hats driving Vespas.The Beat opened with The Specials' "A Message to You Rudy" and then launched into a dozen or so favorites including "Twist and Crawl", "Whine and Grine/Stand Down Margaret", "Tears of a Clown", "Mirror in the Bathroom", "Best Friend", and "'ands Off She's Mine".


I miss my Rude Boy and expert backy skanker, Pa, who's giving a talk right now in London. But I phoned him after the show to tell him that Dave and Lyn signed my English Beat poster and wrote "Stand Down Margaret!"

I've gotta have this framed!<

People Talking and Singing Onstage While Members of the Audience Are Laughing, Crying and Peeing

I'm not sure Friday evening's event "People Talking and Singing" --the 826 Seattle benefit at McCaw Hall--can be topped. Ok, maybe the NY event was better but it doesn't count because I didn't go, so there. Several favorites were on-hand including Sarah Vowell, Dave Eggers and Daniel Handler (aka Lemony Snicket) who did most of the talking while Ben Gibbard (of Death Cab and Postal Service), Colin Meloy (of the Decemberists), the Smoosh sisters and Zach Rogue of Rogue Wave--just to name a FEW--sang, sometimes together, sometimes solo and then as a jam band in the end...but more about that later.

The event was pee-in-your-pants funny. Not just a tinkle trickle either...I mean, having to get up in the middle of Zach Rogue's set and run to the ladies room funny. Yeah, yeah, impolite, I know, getting up in the middle of a performance, but dammit, I forgot my adult-sized Huggie. It couldn't be helped.

The show opened with John Hodgman as the emcee and Jonathan Coulton as his guitar-strumming sidekick who provided intro themes for each guest, including The Scorpion's "Rock You Like a Hurricane" for Dave Egger's first appearance onstage; but before that, the dynamic duo opened with a singalong about a coworker-turned-zombie who pounds on an office door singing "All we want to do is eat your brains. We're not unreasonable, I mean, we're not going to eat your eyes."

And what can I say about Smoosh without repeating what everyone else has said, thereby being redundant? They're two of the most talented teenage girls I've ever seen. It's really too bad the sound guys didn't turn up Asya's mic enough. Her angelic voice got lost among her sister's wicked drumming.

Daniel Handler then called out Colin Meloy, Sarah Vowell and Ben Gibbard to read his three-act play based on his life. In five minutes, the play covered everything from childhood troubles to college lover dumping his ass only later to wind up in a crack house. Gibbard, who played the role of Handler, was also asked to be the Voice of God which, Handler directed, should have the same voice as the one he was using for Daniel Handler.

When it was time to hold out the hats -- or, um, buckets in this case -- the audience lights came up with promises of Dave Eggers providing hugs to $20 donors and buddy punches by Sarah Vowell to those contributing $5 or more.

Before Eggers provided the audience with the tote board total, Colin Meloy made me cry with his band's beautiful new song "The Crane Wife" (the album's due out October 3) and then wowed me as he and Gibbard performed Blur's "End of a Century".

All told, over $10,400 was raised for 826 Seattle. And for being such good donors, we were treated to an onstage jam featuring Smoosh, Colin Meloy, Ben Gibbard, Zach Rogue, and Daniel Handler on accordion as they belted out Meloy's "worst song he ever wrote": "Dracula's Daughter". And while it wasn't like last year's 17 minute-long version of "Hungry Like The Wolf" it still closed the show on a perfect note.

Stay tuned for my review on tonight's mission: MaNaNa goes to the Gorge to see DMB live!

Looky at Meloy and Gibbard sing Blur: