I Feel Like I'm Moving Further Away From It.

It's been almost a week since I shot Radiates and because I am old and my memory fades easily, I'm having a difficult time recalling details. Seeing as I'm left with impressions, I have managed to make the lamest music review since that time that Chris Ott reviewed the Slanted And Enchanted reissue for Pitchfork with the [awful], scanned, hand-written pages.

As we might (or might not) remember, being young means curfew and the promise of swift and brutal justice at the hands of parentals if curfew is broken. This is not all together unjustified as The City is a horrible place full of crazies and situations that would put Young White Girls In Peril. In short, I get the point. This leads to a certain problem for young bands that draw the last straw and go on with the post-curfew slot in a three-act bill: You have no one to play to, or the number of people has decreased to the point where the room is half empty. Sad story, bro.

Please recall the Ideal Gas Law, which can be used to show that the pressure of a gas (particles) in a small volume is greater than that of an equal amount of gas (particles) in a large volume.

Because the Ideal Gas law is expressed as an equation (PV=nRT), you can also determine how small a volume has to be to achieve the same pressure with fewer particles. Of course, people don't react in the same way that a gas does -- they'll go where the want to. It's up to the band to make them want to go. With that in mind, I think this illustration makes sense:



I call it Gin's Ideal Crowd Law.

In practical terms:

At The Drive In

The Drive In is where the swap meet happens on weekends, which is personally significant because it's where Gersh and I would go crate diving in search of old and/or awesome records. Recall that the mid-to-late 90's were the early years of vinyl revivalism and you could still get copies of basically any record for a dollar or less. We often bought boxes for ten bucks and divided them between ourselves sight unseen. I was really into The Who then. There was also a selection of the typical swap meet expendables including cheap leather working gloves, tools made of poor-quality steel and cholo shirts which usally had airbrushed Virgin Marys and Jesuses on the front.

Apparently the property is still owned by Metropolitan Theaters, though one has to wonder how long that will last with Goleta becoming the new Wild West of Santa Barbara County. The major buildings are still standing including the snack bar and projection house (both pictures housed in this set on my Flickr,. Apparently the airport shuttles idle their time there between shifts so the grounds are usually populated to some extent. The other drive in in Goleta is the SBA long term parking lot, so it's ALWAYS populated.

I left my car idling in the driveway of the theater to go fire off these quick pictures -- probably a bad idea positionally, considering I ran around the corner and out of view of the car. I don't know why I ran. I seemed like I had to avoid the workers there for some reason. Most likely I just didn't want to have to interact with anyone.

Yes, I Went To Disneyland

Disneyland is many things, and a mess of contradictions which I am still limping my way through. Currently. In no order:

1) It's smaller than I remember. Now, I've not been there in 12 years or somewhere thereabouts. In any instance, the forced perspective in the buildings (Main Street gets narrower and the buildings get shorter as they approach Sleeping Beauty's Castle) is now less effective now that I am 6'2". There is also an argument for my "seeing better," if that makes any sense. What took a whole day to walk around now takes about 20 minutes and most of the time is spent waiting in line for rides, which speaks to the designers' grace in jamming so much shit into such a (relatively) tiny space and still managing to give each Land its own entry way and exit.



2) Disneyland is BIGGER than I remember. There's a whole second park, with a second admission fee (Disney's California Adventure), which was built over the old parking lot. Now you take a tram (or walk through Downtown Disney, a weird little shopping mall/esplanade thing) to the main gate from the multi-story parking garage with super-high-flow escalators and a view of scenic Anaheim over and beyond the Magic Kingdom.

2a) Disney's California Adventure is clearly not meant for people from California. Or maybe it is, but that has a certain cynical implication that the good people of the state of California are too dumb to go visit their own (real life, with real bears) attractions. My family and I took a cursory walk through it and I was pretty unimpressed.

Consider below:



Poppies: Check. They are the state flower. Well done. They're all along the highway.

Retro Font: Check. Sell the postcard image of sun-drenched beaches and Beach Boys compilations.

Movie Theater: YOU'RE IN LOS ANGELES MOTHERFUCKER GRAUMAN'S IS VERY CLOSE BY MAYBE YOU SHOULD GO. SHIT IS CRAZY.

Pen: I don't get that. It must be some Miramax-Barton-Fink leftover shit.

Sun, Surf, Palms: See: "Movie Theater," substitute "Venice" for "Grauman's."

3) Disneyland is scary.



There's a lot of skulls. I recall there was a skull count a few years back (which was done apropos of nothing) and the number was pretty high. Or higher than you might expect or think of off the top of your head. There's a lot of blacklight stuff and fucking two story WOOZLES (above) which will clearly haunt your dreams. We can joke all we want about Coney Island being a strange and violent looking place, but all things are equal in this instance and in spite of Uncle Walt's best wishes, Disneyland is closer in spirit and execution to the old carnivals he was trying to render obsolete than we might want to admit. Permanence is great, and the safety record of the park is unbeatable, but content is content is content and the Indiana Jones Ride is just as dark as Dante's Inferno.

4) I might just be getting cynical ("getting," "ha, ha") in my old age. I mean, the holiday re-dressing of the Haunted Mansion (the ride, not the sad Eddie Murphy movie thing) for the Nightmare Before Christmas was pretty cute, and clearly had a lot of thought and love behind it (unlike the sad Eddie Murphy movie thing). Kids seemed to be having a good time still, which is important, because when the STOP having a good time we should burn the place to the ground, and people closer to my age seemed to be having a reasonable time as well. So what does this say about me?