Leaky Faucets

I have a good memory about certain things. Take music for example. I can remember both where and approximately when I bought most of the 500+ slabs of wax in my record collection.

Last night I was listening to and recording “Cleanse The Bacteria,” one of the all-time best hardcore compilations, which was put together by punk/metal art god and Septic Death front-man (not to mention Thrasher columnist—remember “The Puszone?”) Pushead. This album was one of the reasons Paul and I were so into European (particularly Scandinavian with Sweden’s Mob 47 leading the way for me) thrash hardcore at the time that everyone in Cleveland was getting into NYHC.

I vividly remember buying this album while combing all the record bins at a mall record store in Ft. Myer’s, Florida. This was around ’86 or ’87. In those years, my family—before it would fall apart—would make an annual vacation in Marco Island, Florida each August—not the best time to go to Florida but the only time my dad could go away. We would inevitably make a trip to the mall in Ft. Myer’s (I think it was called Edison Mall because Thomas Edison lived in Ft. Myers at one time), about an hour away, and we would make a beeline for the record store—the only store that mattered to us then. Yes, even the record stores in the mall could have some good vinyl back then. I know I bought the Bad Brains ROIR yellow cassette at that same store, possibly the same trip. It was a chain store like Sam Goody but I don’t remember which. It was all washed down with an Orange Julius before heading back to the quiet island where we stayed the week.

It’s been three weeks since my last update on our trip-a reflection of how little time I had for things like blogging because of parental duties and our hectic social calendar as we tried to see as many people as we could.

We’re finally back in Cebu still trying to shake off the stubbornly lingering effects of jetlag.  Almost gone now after three days at home.  It’s strange referring to the Philippines as home and the U.S. as a vacation destination.  My world is a bit upside down for now but I’m coping.

So let us rewind a little bit here.  We spent about ten days at my mom’s house in Cleveland-which we needed after the New York City debacle.  Ana was thoroughly happy there.  She had the entire newly carpeted basement to run around with no hazards and tons of toys.  She spent hours down there every day and never fussed.  Of course, we also took her out.  We went for walks around the neighborhood and hung out in the backyard.  She had her first visit to the zoo in Cleveland.  Unfortunately, the heat was oppressive that day and many of the animals-including the tigers-took to lazing under a shady tree.  Not too exciting.  And we missed the monkeys-my favorites.  We also went to a few parks-one in beautiful and historic Hudson, Ohio and the other was surprisingly lush and vibrant Edgewater Park, just west of downtown Cleveland.  During these trips to the park, I came to realize that one of the things that makes Ana the happiest is having a large grassy area to run as fast and as far as she can and to fall down and get up over and over again.  In New York’s Central Park she had a similarly grand time.

In Cleveland we got to spend a lot of time with family and friends including some people I haven’t seen in a long while.  Aya and I got to go out a few times leaving Ana at home with my mom.  We went to see “Sex in the City,” which was better than I expected.  I went to an Indians game with the guys followed by a trip across the Cuyahoga to Now That’s Class.  We even got to hang out with Paul several times which is a bit of a minor miracle.

After Cleveland we headed back to Pennsylvania for a few days. Maki’s bakery, Cupcakes Gourmet,which just opened a few months ago, is doing very well.  In fact, they were honored by a Philadelphia area magazine MainlineToday ,earning one of the “Best of the Mainline” awards.  On our last day there Maki invited us to the award party, which consisted of a smorgasbord offering ridiculous amounts of food.  As usual I could not stop from gorging myself.  The sliced steak from a local butcher was excellent as were the meatballs from an Italian deli.  Besides Maki’s cupcakes though, I wasn’t too impressed with the desserts.

While in Pennsylvania, we also snuck back to New York for about 24 hours.  This time we left Ana at Maki’s and took the bus like the old days.  It was certainly a lot easier in the city without her but it was still a hectic day.  We had brunch with Jocelyn at Café Henri in the Village.  Best damn almond croissant I’ve ever had.  They actually don’t make it there-they get it at another French bakery in the Village but I don’t know the name.  Henri has very good entrees and coffee too.  I recognized the waitress from the Long Island City location and she remembered me from there too, asking where the baby was.  This small moment gave me a fleeting feeling of home again after really feeling that I didn’t belong in NY anymore after my last visit.  After that, we separated.  Aya went shopping with Jocelyn and I headed to 59th Street on a special mission.

I had to hit the Conran Shop to get my favorite miniature pens.  Incredibly geeky and obsessive, I know.  I get this way when I find a product a like and then find out that there is only one place in the world or only a few places that carry that item.  Like the incredibly comfortable black Ralph Lauren socks that I’ve only ever seen in a non-descript store near Ditmars Blvd in Astoria, Queens.  I think they are knockoffs because I’ve never seen them on the web or at outlet stores or any other place that carries RL and this is the type of store that would certainly sell knockoffs.  There’s also my beloved Sirius 70% dark chocolate, which I’ve only seen in Whole Foods.  (More on that later.)  Anyway, the pens are important because they are small (like a golf pencil) and can fit inside the rings of the 3×5 notebook I usually carry in my back pocket in which I write down anything and everything from to-do lists to my ideas on saving humanity, etc.

While in New York that one day, Aya had a meeting with a client and I met our real estate broker in Jackson Heights, got the mail, had to have a key made for the mailbox and cashed in about $17 worth of change at Commerce Bank’s “Penny Arcade.”  Then we met up with David at Hotel Gansevoort’s rooftop.  A total ripoff but I knew that going in.  Just wanted to cross it off my list.  We did have a surprisingly good dinner at Vento, an Italian place near Gansevoort.  

Then on to the main event, and the main reason for the one-day excursion in NYC: the Aimee Mann concert at Highline Ballroom.  I had been looking forward to this for months and was so psyched that we were able to work this into our schedule.   We saw her Christmas Show last year, but I wanted tosee a real Aimee concert without al the holiday songs.  I had pre-ordered her new album”@#%&*! Smilers” before leaving for the States in June and after repeatedlistenings I was really starting to like it.  On her site’s message board, I peeked at the playlist fromprevious shows on the tour, and it revealed a heavy emphasis on Smilers.  I was glad to be prepared.  Truthfully, though, by the time the concert arrived we were both exhausted.  We were not quite in the mood to stand for three hours, but that is what we did.  There was also an opening band called The Submarines.  They were okay but not really my thing. Didn’t really like the Macintosh-aided orchestrations and the female singer’s act seemed a bit contrived. They are like a WB-band, the type played on “Gossip Girl” to rave reviews.

Then Aimee finally climbed on the stage around 10:15.  Immediately you could tell that she had done this thousands of times before.  She had an excellent command of the audience and the material and was completely comfortable up there in complete contrast to the giggling opening act.  Between songs she also demonstrated a great sense of humor and knack for storytelling and back-and-forth with the audience.  The show lived up to my expectations although I wish I wasn’t so tired and stressed that day.  When I was younger and was a frequent concertgoer, I always had this fantasy or daydream–usually while the band was playing-that it would be so great if I could see this group perform live from the comfort of my own bed, not standing on top of each other sweating profusely or wearing uncomfortable shoes.  But that’s not reality, and I guess part of the live music experience is putting up with the crowds and the unpredictabilities involved.  I won’t go into too much detail on the concert here, but I’ll post the setlist at the end of this post in case anyone is interested.

I bought a t-shirt, which I haven’t done at a concert in years.  Then we took a cab to Trina’s place in Greenpoint, where we hung out for a bit before getting a meager amount of sleep so we could wake up early enough to catch the 8:00 bus back to PA.

This one day in the city was like a capsulated version of my ten years as a resident there.  I crisscrossed the city from Midtown to Greenwich Village to the Upper East Side to Jackson Heights to the Meatpacking District to Brooklyn and back to Midtown.  This was all within less than 24 hours.  As I walked alone from place to place random memories stirred inside me darting in and out of my mind.  Each flashback was triggered by a certain locale.  Walking in the East 60s reminded me of when I played softball for Bozell in the summer of ‘98.  We would always hit the same Upper East Side bar afterward and then I would take the long and impaired walk to the train.  It was a bit lonely after I left the bar.  Being in the Village reminded me how much time I spent down there my first year in the city, often going to hear jazz at the BYOB Small’s.  Of course, Greenpoint reminded me of visiting Paul at his place there and also of running through the neighborhood during the marathon.  The Meatpacking District was a place I frequently visited during my hotel class in 2006 as our site was there on 15th and 9th Ave.  I also thought of the marathon when I passed by the Queensboro Bridge.  I used to spend a lot of time in that Manhattan neighborhood going to movies when I lived in Astoria since there was no decent theater in my neighborhood when I first lived there and it was only 10 minutes by subway.  Of course, Jackson Heights represented the final chapter of our New York existence, for now anyway.

Okay, this post is getting way too long.  This is what happens when I don’t write for weeks.  I’ll try to wrap it up now.

We stopped in LA for a few days and spent a lot of time with Angelica and Minh and James who came up from San Diego.  Went to the Getty Center which was unbelievable and we didn’t even get a chance to see the exhibits.  Just the grounds themselves were mindblowing.  We also drove all over the city in the Honda Civic hybrid I rented.   The car was only a few bucks more per day and we definitely saved on gas.  I got a lot of comments and questions from passersby asking about the car.  I give it high marks.  We had breakfast one morning at the pier in Manhattan Beach-it was takeout from Le Pain Quotidien, one of our old favorites from the other Manhattan.  Before driving in LA, I was a bit intimidated, but now I feel pretty comfortable driving there and sort of know where I’m going with the aid of a good street map.  Tried to avoid the freeway as much as possible but got stuck in traffic a few times on the 405.

Mostly in LA we shopped.  It’s a Filipino thing.  I didn’t understand it when my in-laws used to visit and all the wanted to do was shop, my now I completely get it.  There are many things you cannot buy in the Philippines and other things that are much more expensive there.  So we spent the entire day before our departure shopping with the highlight being the trip to Costco to pick up mostly non-food items such as my cherished Charmin.  We also had to buy a bunch of items for Aya’s family at various places.  I feel like I did enough shopping to last me until I come back.  One unfortunate shopping related thing was that Whole Foods did not carry my Sirius chocolate bars.  The WF outlets in NY and Cleveland always have plenty of the white-wrappered bars, but apparently they don’t have them in the California stores, so I could not stock up until my next trip.  I had bought two in Cleveland thinking that I would get more in LA.  Of course I ate one before leaving so now I have one to last me five months or so.

Okay, I’m stopping soon, I swear.  Told you I’m obsessive.  The flight back to Cebu wasn’t so bad-guess I’m getting used to these double-digit flights.  I must say that the international terminal at LAX is pathetic.  It’s under construction and there is only one place to eat inside the checkpoints and the prices of the mediocre food are insane.  Then, after Ana was getting cranky again during the wait, we had to board a bus to take us to the plane where we had to climb the steps in order to board.  Ana was asleep by that time and slept for another five hours.  When she was awake she was pretty well behaved though we had to make frequent trips up and down the aisle where she couldn’t help trying to wake up every sleeping passenger.  Fortunately, none of them seemed to be too annoyed.  I occupied myself watching movies as usual as I have a hard time reading or writing or working on these long flights.  I can only survive by reverting to my childhood vegetative TV watching state.    Watched “Cool Runnings” with the late great John Candy, which I had never seen and was mildly entertaining.  Then “What Happens in Vegas” and “Run Fat Boy Run.”  All were entertaining to varying degrees–as I’ve said before, my standards for movies on airplanes are drastically reduced.

That’s it.  Our exhausting whirlwind six-week trip that took us to six states (seven for Aya) is finally behind us.  Many lessons learned which I hope we’ll remember next time we try to plan a trip like this.  We’re home.  Good Night Now.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *

Aimee Mann @ Highline Ballroom, NYC 7/30/2008
Stranger into Starman
Looking for Nothing
Freeway
Phoenix
Great Beyond
Save Me
Wise Up
Calling it Quits
4th of July
Invisible Ink
You’re with Stupid Now
Little Tornado
31 Today
Borrowing Time
Today’s the Day
Red Vines
How Am I Different?
Little Bombs**
I’ve Had It**
Deathly**

**Encore

Yesterday I passed up the chance to meet some of the top pool players in the world - all Filipinos - to go the gym for a run.  Aya went to meet these guys and was excited about it, but I guess I’m just not into professional pool and wouldn’t put meeting one of the greats up there with say, meeting Michael Jordan or Lebron James.  And actually, athletes are usually not that interesting outside of the playing arena arena.  For me, I guess I am more excited to meet a famous writer or musician such as the times I met Jhumpa Lahiri (though I thought she was a bit aloof) and Max Roach (who was extremely nice and personable.)

I’m getting off the subject, though.   The point I wanted to make was that given a choice of activities, I would choose working out in most cases, unless I have already worked out that day.  It’s not that I’m vain about the way I look, but I just want to lose weight and be healthy and do marathons again so I need to run as much as possible.  I guess I’m a bit obsessed.  Often, when I choose the other activity and forego the workout, I regret it.  This time, I made the right choice and was very happy about it despite Aya’s attempts to rub in her brush with fame.

When we moved to Jackson Heights from Astoria four years ago, I got rid of the old turntable that I purchased in 1996.  I had every intention of getting a new one, but I didn’t listen to records much anymore after getting an iPod.  I missed the crisp and authentic sound of vinyl and of the hundreds of slabs of wax I owned, many were difficult or impossible to find in mp3 format.

So last summer I decided to do some research on turntables and I found that J&R Music World in downtown Manhattan had a audio-technica model that would allow you to plug it directly into your PC in order to convert your vinyl into digital music suitable for playing on a computer or iPod.  So I bought one.

But it wasn’t as simple as I hoped it to be.  First, I’m an idiot when it comes to electronics, and this model is not a basic turntable.  It’s a DJ-quality player with many controls that I wasn’t familiar with such as anti-skating and tracking force.  Anyway, I tried to get it to work but I couldn’t.  I had to wait until Aya’s cousin came over one day for a party.  He was a former DJ and was able to help me set it up.  The next problem was that I could get the records to play but I could not figure out how to record.  Nothing I tried worked out.  And the timing wasn’t right.  It was only a few weeks before we moved overseas so I really couldn’t devote too much time to it.  I decided I would just wait until we got to the Philippines since Gahum is a whiz with electronics and computers and he was also a DJ for many years.

I had to ship the turntable via Johnny Ocean so even though we got here in the first days of January, my precious package did not arrive until late February.  We were so busy for a while unpacking our other 17 boxes that the turntable just sat around for a while.

Gahum is always so busy and is rarely home so I was never able to have him take a look at the recording process.  Last month, I decided to give it another shot myself.  I pored over the manual reading every step carefully.  I finally stumbled on something.  One of the settings on my PC was incorrect.  I changed it and suddenly it worked.  So I began recording the few records that I brought with me in my carry-on luggage in January.  (My vinyl is too valuable to ship and I wouldn’t trust the airline baggage handlers so I plan to bring a handful of records securely bubble-wrapped each time I go back to the States.)  It’s a time-consuming process as you have to let the record play in real time to record it.  Then I need to copy the songs to my iTunes and convert them from .wav to .aac files.  Also, since the record player is only a few feet off the floor and within Ana’s reach, I can only record when she is either sleeping or not home.

Still, I enjoy the process and get excited every time I can hear something on my iPod that I haven’t listened to in years because I only have it on vinyl or cassette.  Most of my vinyl collection is old punk and hardcore records but I also have a small amount of jazz, classical, old rock, hip-hop, comedy and novelty records such as the “12 Days of Cleveland Browns Christmas” 45 from 1980 that I bought several years ago at a record convention in Manhattan.  My friend Jimmy had this record when we were kids and I remember that 1980 season vividly.  Listening to my punk and HC records like Life’s Blood and Plasma Alliance is taking me back to my junior high and high school years when I used to spend hours in my basement either by myself or with Paul or friends just listening to records spin on the turntable.

I’m finally starting to appreciate the destructive powers of my daughter.  At first, it was harmless.  She dropped the remote to our A/C enough times to render the screen unreadable.  Still, it works, so we can live with it.  My glasses were so misshapen from her constant pulling on them that one of the lenses finally popped out a few weeks ago.  Even then, I was able to get the lens put back in and the frame bent back into shape, and now I’m careful not to let her touch them at all.

But now she’s messed with something more important than good eyesight.  Music.  She broke my prized Bose Sounddock.  It still works, but only when something is wedged behind the iPod to prop it up.  The speakers–one of the rare items I was willing to spend  a lot for–may be fixable if I can find a Bose dealership here.  If not, at least we’ve learned our lesson: if it’s in Ana’s reach, she will grab it and most likely alter it for the worse.  We have moved it to higher ground now, but like with rising flood waters, as Ana gets taller and bolder, we must continually relocate precious things to avoid maximum damage.

Usually I’m quite self-conscious and uncomfortable about my new role as a minority, but sometimes its fun. Like today when we had a company outing at a shabby beach club in Mactan. Being the only non-Filipino there today was for some reason enjoyable. I don’t usually like the spotlight; I don’t often want to be noticed. Maybe it was the beer (but really I only had two San Miguels) or maybe it was the karaoke. I’m well aware that I’m an awful singer but I sometimes relish the opportunity to make an ass out of myself with a microphone. I opened up with my dead-on impression of Ozzie-era Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs.” Sure, with all the little kids in the adjacent cabana, the lyrics may have been a bit inappropriate, but at least Ana enjoyed it. As did all the staff, although I’m sure only a few probably know who Black Sabbath is. Later I went with one of my karaoke faves, “La Bamba,” although I always seem to lose interest half way through the song because of its repetitiveness. Some of the girls were too shy to sing despite my continued prodding, but for me it’s a liberating feeling when I can sing (however badly) in front of people and helps knock down a cultural barrier between us. After all, karaoke is as much a part of Filipino culture as eating. If you can at least make an attempt, you can find a place here.

Karaoke really demonstrates the contradictory parts of my personality: shyness and boldness behind the armor of a microphone. Sure, everyone was looking at the white guy singing, but today I didn’t mind at all

I’m afraid that all of my hard work in providing Ana with positive and diverse musical influences in her first year is being undone.  My mother-in-law has these dreadful CDs in the car-cheesy instrumental re-workings of pop songs such as Madonna’s “Crazy for You.”  I must intervene with some more artful tunes-more jazz and classical and less elevator and supermarket tunes.  The punk rock can wait till later–don’t think she’s ready for that yet.

Over here I have less control over Ana’s play list.  Certainly I can do something about what gets played at home, but things also need to be changed in the car.

Seems there’s not much to do in Hong Kong but shop and eat, and I finished my shopping bit yesterday spending an hour or so at HMV (normally I try to avoid chain music stores but I’m starved for music and there is little choice here) buying 2 CDs: Aimee Mann’s “I’m with Stupid” and Manu Chao’s new one, “La Radiolina,” which I’m listening to for the first time as I write this. So that leaves eating, and if I do much more of that I’m going to explode.

So I had to figure out how I’d spend my afternoon-my last full day in HK. I was on my own so I could set my own itinerary. Of course, I had to eat first to give me the energy to explore the city on foot. I only had HK$100 in my wallet (about $13 US) to last the whole day so it would have to be cheap. Chinese food can be inexpensive here, but I was already right sick of Chinese, especially the greasy foods we’ve been eating here such as duck and pork and pan fried noodles. (I will, however, have Dim Sum tomorrow-can’t miss a chance for good Dim Sum in Hong Kong and we haven’t had time yet.) I was in the mood for a sandwich, but unfortunately all the Pret a Manger locations are on the other side on Hong Kong Island, and I was too hungry to go that far.

I walked down Nathan Road-the main thoroughfare in Kowloon-and then Haiphong Road, another congested main road. I decided to take a turn down one of the less traveled and dingier side streets hoping the places there would be cheaper. I briefly considered stopping in a noodle shop because I love noodle soup, but it looked pretty bleak. Next door was a Turkish place. I was skeptical, but it was full and most of the staff looked sufficiently Turkish, so I decided to give it a try. Turned out to be delightful and quick, and pretty healthy too. And more importantly, it was cheap at HK$50 for a chicken doner roll (thinly sliced chicken with lettuce, tomatoes, onions and a delicious sauce on pita), a cup of creamy lentil soup and bottled water. Actually, this was probably the best meal I’ve had so far in Hong Kong and absolutely the best value; most of our prior meals have been in LKF, Central-a very pricy district with mostly overpriced establishments. Even the Whisky Priest Irish pub was expensive, although at least the burger there was tasty.

I was out of Istanbul Express in 30 minutes. I decided I would check out Kowloon Park which borders Nathan Road and Haiphong Road on two of its sides. It’s gorgeous out today (about 21C/70F and sunny). The park is small compared to Central Park but it’s bigger than Washington Square Park. It is very serene compared to the pedestrian clogged streets just outside. Frankly, I’m really tired of looking at commerce and wanted to be in a place where no one tried to sell me anything like a Rolex copy or a custom-tailored suit. (Actually, later I discovered there is a McDonald’s inside the park.) A beautiful high-rising, geyser-like fountain greeted me near the Haiphong entrance. I sat there for a while to start writing this in my notebook while a young girl in a graduation cap and gown posed for pictures with her friends.

During my walk, I observed a few old guys doing Tai Chi or something and several other groups of locals practicing dance routines, some involving swords. A creepy guy tried to make eye contact with me at the park’s public urinal. Every park I’ve ever been to-no matter how small or urbane-has had its share of creeps and freaks. Why should Hong Kong be any different?

I ended up spending about two hours in the park-a good way to spend time in an expensive city without spending any money. Other attractions in Kowloon Park include an aviary with tropical birds, gardens, a bird lake with exotic ducks and flamingos, a gigantic swimming pool which now sits empty due to the season and a soccer field. There is also the Hong Kong Heritage Discovery Center which I stopped in for a few minutes to see the exhibit on Hong Kong’s history and cultural heritage.

I’m absolutely a parks person and think they represent the best things about cities and governments along with libraries. These are places for people to hang out freely (mostly anyway) together or alone at no cost. Locals and tourists mingle. People exercise, sleep, read. Kids play. Parks really give me a feel for a new place so I like to visit them when I travel. Seeing so many people there gives me a really good feeling. I really miss Central Park more than almost anything in New York.

Having nothing really to do today, it was good just to wander. It was small enough where I wasn’t going to get lost, and I had a map just in case. There were signs all over the park pointing toward a Footbridge to Hong Kong City, China. I was confused at what this meant-I didn’t think it meant Hong Kong Island after looking at a map, but was hoping it was. Kind of like walking across the Brooklyn Bridge (which I only ever walked about halfway across), it would be cool to walk from Kowloon to HK Island. But, after crossing over an expressway, the footbridge ended at the harbor and ferry terminal with service to Macau and Mainland China. (I’m still not sure what HK City, China refers to. It’s on my map-could be another mall or a building or port.) I was disappointed that I’d reached the end of the line but I was pleased with the spectacular view of the skyline across the harbor. Hong Kong really is visually stunning and unique city with its mountains and water and hilliness and many skyscrapers (it’s up there with San Francisco), but unfortunately it always seems to be covered in a layer of smoggy haze.

I wish I had brought my camera today, but all I had was my phone. I took a few shots but they’re pretty crappy (as usual as I’m a hack photographer), so I’ve posted here a few pics from the web, which approximate where I was today.

Yesterday was like Christmas morning for Ana and me.  At least what I think Christmas morning would feel like.  As a Jew, I never truly experienced all the excitement of Christmas morning that my gentile friends like Jimmy enjoyed every year of their childhood.  Yeah, we had Hanukkah, but when it all comes at one time it’s quite a rush.

What made me think of Christmas?  We received the last of our stuff that we shipped here from New York just before the real Christmas last year.  These were the final eight boxes out of a total 18.  Included was my new turntable so I can finally start converting my vinyl into mp3s; all the toiletries (deodorant, razor blades, toothpaste, floss, etc.) that I desperately need from the brands I trust and can only get here for double or triple the price in the States if at all; two pairs of brand new and unused Asics running shoes (this quality of running shoe I definitely cannot get here); and our tennis rackets so we can finally start with tennis lessons.  Ana had at least a whole box of toys, stuffed animals and books, many of which I’ve never seen before-they must have been given to Aya by our old neighbor Leontine right before we shipped out.  Also, was my long awaited Noi Sirius Icelandic dark chocolate.  I sent seven bars-every single one that they had at the Whole Foods in Columbus Circle when I stopped there right before we left.  I plan to ration these so that they last me until June when we’ll be in the U.S. for a visit.

And, perhaps most importantly was the 12 rolls of 2-ply Charmin that we had left over.  There was no way I was giving that up.  The toilet paper here is very flimsy and not too soft.  Charmin is hard to find and is usually one ply.  At the duty free they had the 2-ply but the cost was exorbitant.  It may sound silly to some, but having the right toilet paper can go a long way toward satisfaction in life.  Of course, I must be careful not to flush too much of this American import-Filipino plumbing is not equipped to handle heavy duty toilet paper.  Yeah, if any of you are thinking that I wouldn’t be too upset getting a six pack of Charmin for my next birthday or Christmas or Hanukkah or whatever, your absolutely right.

I finally saw Aimee Mann in concert last night, bringing some sort of closure as I was able to cross one more item off of my to-do-before-I-leave-NYC list. This concert was a culmination of a year-long obsession that started when I rented “Magnolia” last October. Aimee Mann’s music is prominently featured in the film, which I loved and hope to see again soon.

I had my chance to see her live this past summer. We were in Cleveland when she played at Warsaw in Brooklyn; that is the show I would have loved to see. The next night she played at Planting Fields Arboretum in Long Island. I could have gone, but there were too many factors that made me decide against it. The concert was on a Sunday night, and we had drove 8 hours from Cleveland that day, arriving home a few hours before the concert. I still had the rental car but was too exhausted to drive any more. And Aya didn’t feel like going, and even if she did, we didn’t have a babysitter. On top of that, she was only the opening act for a guy I’d never heard of, so who knows how many songs she would have played.

When I let that opportunity slip away, I desperately hoped it wouldn’t be my last chance. See, when I really like a musician or group, I get obsessed with the idea of seeing their live performance, and can’t rest until I do. (I was that way with A Tribe Called Quest, Radiohead, Manu Chao, Gogol Bordello, Radio Birdman and many others. Check, check, check, check and check. Saw them all.) I started checking Aimee’s website nearly every day for months until she announced plans for her second annual Christmas tour. This was not exactly what I was hoping for (since I knew it wasn’t going to be a regular concert), but it would have to do since my time here was running out. I bought tickets back in October on the first day of sale. I think my eagerness actually paid off as we ended up with third row floor seats, which were the same price as all the other seats.

The Christmas tour grew out of her Christmas album released last year; it was mainly moody covers of Christmas classics plus a terrific original, “Calling on Mary.” I had bought it for Aya as a Mother’s Day gift because she loves Christmas music. At first, she didn’t like it because she thought it was depressing, and Christmas songs should be happy. It was like “have yourself a suicidal Christmas.” I argued that it was just her interpretation. Why should every version of a song sound the same anyway? She found humor in it, and repeatedly played it for friends in derision. At the same time, she insisted I had a crush on Aimee, when, in fact, I just love her as a musician.

So, the show last night at the Grand Ballroom on 34^th Street in Manhattan took on the format of a Christmas-themed variety show. Aimee played several songs-mostly Christmas covers-but also a few non-holiday tunes. There were also a few special musical guests, all of them fairly enjoyable: Ben Lee, Josh Ritter and Nellie Mckay. There was also a comedian, some skits and a film of sorts. It was incredibly entertaining and never dull. Despite a cold which she admitted caused her voice to crack, Aimee was tremendous. She lived up to the hype, and my only complaint was that she only performed 12 songs and only a scant few of my favorites. I will certainly go out of my way to see her play live as much as possible, and Aya, who admittedly is prone to hyper bole, called it the best concert she’s ever attended. (You may recall she said the same thing about Gogol Bordello back in July and about Radiohead in 2001.) She pronounced herself a convert to Aimeedom and now claims to love her versions of the Christmas songs after hearing them so beautifully sung live.

A few random thoughts on this event:

It’s kind of strange for me to stay seated at a concert, other than a classical or jazz performance. Nearly all of the concerts I’ve attended in my life have been ones where most people stand for the entire show. At this one, people stood briefly during the finale and encore but were otherwise seated.

The guy seated next to Aya was wearing a Slayer shirt. He was probably in his late 40s or early 50s. I was going to mention to him that we were probably the only Slayer fans there, but he had a look on his face that made me reconsider this kind of comment.

I picked up a copy of a beautifully illustrated lyrics booklet for what I consider her best album to date, “The Forgotten Arm.” They gave them out to the people in the first two rows. Since the seats in front of me were vacant, I pinched one. Aya told me to put it back, but I somewhat guiltily hid it under my seat. When a couple claimed those seats, they looked for the booklets. I thought about giving it back, but then someone gave them two. Problem solved. Guilt evaporated.

Aya spotted actress Laura Linney (“Nanny Diaries,” “Squid and the Whale,” and countless others.) Seems like a lot of actors like Aimee. She has a smallish, but quite devoted following.

The audience was mostly white, but the age range was broader than most concerts: from teens to seniors.

I will terribly miss shows like this not living in NYC any more. One great thing about this city if you’re a music fan is that every touring musician comes through New York. Not too many come to the Philippines, so I may have to occasionally go to Japan or Hong Kong to get my live music fix. Not that I’ve really seen too many shows since Ana’s birth, because I haven’t.

In case you’re interested in reading any further, below is the list of songs that Aimee played last night in order:

Nutcracker Suite (intro)
Jacob Marley’s Chain
Calling on Mary
It’s Cold Outside
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Save Me
Christmas Song
You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch
I Was Thinking I Could Clean Up for Christmas
(Not sure what this song was called as I never heard it before-possibly off her upcoming album, possibly called “Things Change”
Deathly
Finale (medley)