Errors-To: ecto-owner@ns1.rutgers.edu Reply-To: ecto@ns1.rutgers.edu Sender: ecto@ns1.rutgers.edu From: ecto@ns1.rutgers.edu To: ecto-request@ns1.rutgers.edu Bcc: ecto-digest-outbound@ns1.rutgers.edu Subject: ecto #812 ecto, Number 812 Monday, 18 October 1993 Today's Topics: *-----------------* Bounce Alert Re: Perfect Songs how i broke my arm (long) Kiss that frog ======================================================================== Date: Mon, 18 Oct 93 15:48:56 -0400 From: Mike Matthews Subject: Bounce Alert Our Internet provider went and changed our IP address (among other things) for sgate.com. If your end (or, at least, ns1.rutgers.edu) has sgate.com cached in its host information tables, you'll probably get a bounce for any mail going to sgate.com because the old address doesn't exist. Sorry for the inconvenience; not only did PSI not tell us about this but they didn't even think the whole thing through. I dunno, I think the fact that our mailhost and newshost and gateway has been down for a good four hours due to something that I had no control over reall XXXXed me off so it's hard to say what was going on. Mike ======================================================================== Date: Mon, 18 Oct 93 16:26:17 EDT From: mojzes@monet.rutgers.edu (brni) Hi, welcome to BRNI'S TOTALLY OBJECTIVE YET WOEFULLY INCOMPLETE COMPILATION OF NIGH-PERFECT SONGS "Can't Find My Way Home" -- Blind Faith "'Round Midnight" -- Thelonious Monk "Tutu" -- Miles Davis "The Rite of Spring" -- Igor Stravinsky "Beyond Belief" -- Elvis Costello "Cloud Zero" -- Legendary Pink Dots "Soft Dog" -- Peter Gabriel "The Sheltering Sky" -- King Crimson (hey, didja'll notice that i've been using capital letters?) "I Found That Essense Rare" -- Gang of Four "Digging in the Dirt" -- Peter Gabriel "Oddfellows Local" -- REM "Wooden Horse" -- Suzanne Vega "Werewolves of London" -- Warren Zevon "Detachable Penis" -- King Missile "The Deoderant Song" -- the Coasters "Say Goodbye" -- Throwing Muses "Cayote" -- Joni Mitchell "Mexican Radio" -- Wall of Voodoo "Troy" -- Sinead O'Connor "Road" -- Nick Drake "The Ninth Wave" -- Kate Bush "New Dawn Fades" -- Joy Division "Precious Things" -- Tori Amos "Making Plans for Nigel" -- XTC "Disintegration" -- the Cure "Breaking Glass" -- David Bowie "Magazine" -- Bunnydrums "Dog and Butterfly" -- Heart "Bohemian Rhapsody" -- Queen "The Chain" -- Fleetwood Mac "The Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys" -- Traffic ---------------------------- well, thats it for now, i guess. any comments, additions, addendum, criticism, complaints and etc are cheerfully accepted and will be added to the list, where appropriate. brni ======================================================================== Date: Mon, 18 Oct 93 14:17:10 PDT From: dixon@physics.berkeley.edu (David Dixon) Subject: Re: Perfect Songs Here's my addenda: "Shock the Monkey" - Peter Gabriel "When You See A Chance" - Steve Winwood "Blue Racer" - Jim Chappell "One More Time" - Peter Buffett "Here's Where the Story Ends" - The Sundays "Down In It" - Nine Inch Nails "Symphony #6 (Pathetique)" - Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky "Spinning Away" - Brian Eno/John Cale "Warpaint" - Happy Rhodes "Look for the Child" - Happy Rhodes "The Walking (and constantly)" - Jane Siberry "Soil Festivities, Movement 1" - Vangelis "Yesterday" - The Beatles "Forever the Optimist" - Patrick O'Hearn "Bhakti Point" - Richard Burmer "Mary's Prayer" - Meet Danny Wilson "Espana" - Patrick O'Hearn "Smells Like Teen Spirit" - Nirvana Probably tons more, but I don't have my CD collection handy right now. D^2 ======================================================================== Date: Mon, 18 Oct 93 17:29:40 EDT From: mojzes@monet.rutgers.edu (brni) Subject: how i broke my arm (long) hi there, this has taken a while to write, since i kept getting distracted. its about 300 lines long, so if you want, skip this post and go to the next. ------------------------------------ well, i'd gotten the feeling that it was going to be a bad day when, as i was getting my shit together for my vacation, i found that my roommates had left my cooler sitting full of water for several months and green stuff had started growing all over it. so as i was washing it out in the back yard, i stepped in dogshit that my roommates' poodle had left, and they hadn't cleaned up. oh joy. eventually, i got my shoes clean and got the car packed and and the band tape dropped off and my parent's tomatoes picked, and i was on my way, happily buzzing down route 13 for my dinner date with my ex and her husband, thence to continue to meet up with my parents and aunt in north carolina. little did i know what terrible fate was awaiting me... you know how sometimes you approach a light, and its turning yellow, and you realize that it'll be red before you get to it, but you're thinking of blowing through it anyway, 'cause its a highway and you're going 60mph and you just don't feel like stopping? then you get that funny feeling that there's a cop at the corner, so you stop. thats what i did. seems the guy in the truck behind me had the same thoughts, but without the funny feeling, because he didn't stop. i remember hearing a screech of tires and a crunching sound, and was about to turn around to see who just got hit, when i realized that i was moving again. everything was in that instant helpless slow motion, as i thought, "oh shit, that's me," then "i hope nobody is in this intersection," and then, when i was through the intersection and showing no sign of stopping soon, "what hit me?" some other thoughts went through my head, too, like "i'm going to be late for dinner and all the food is going to get cold" (wasting food was always bad in a household where both parents survived wwII in yugoslavia). strange, the things that go through one's head at the moment of death. i had that gut feeling that this was not an accident that i would be walking away from. i stopped skidding, eventually. i saw the skid marks after i got out of the hospital, and i estimate that he probably pushed me over 100 feet. i was lying mostly prone in my little honda civic hatchback (seems that the seat had just broken off, probably from where the spare tire hit it). my arm hurt a little, and there was a large lump sticking out of it. the lump was hard, and my arm didn't work. "how am i going to play bass like this?" i thought, and it occurred to me that krys was making me dinner, and it was going to get cold. the back of my head felt wet, and my glasses were missing. i was searching the car for my glasses when the trucker got to my car. trucker: are you alright? brni: my arm's broke. t: fercrissake why did you stop? b: (incredulous and slightly exasperated) the light was *red*! t: well, well, yeah, but but...why did you stop?!? at this point the cop who had been at the intersection in an unmarked car pushed him aside. c: how ya feelin', son. b: (discovering his new mantra) my arm's broke. c: (pulling rubber gloves on) now just relax son, and don't move. the cop then grabbed my head and held it stationary. i lay still and decided that i'd let the experts deal with the situation, and then slipped into shock. i have no idea how long it took for them to extract me from the car. they had to cut it or pry it open, i'm not sure which. me, i don't *think* i ever passed out, strictly speaking, but i do remember things sortof alternating between feeling really cold and clammy, hot and nauseous, just hazy and indistinct, completely lucid, and sometimes an utter bonetiredness where i didn't know where to get the energy to answer the questions they were asking. i'm not sure how, but they managed to fit more people into my significantly shortened honda than i ever managed when it was full-sized. the cop was holding my head, someone was holding my shoulders, someone else my waist. one guy was poking my gut and ribs while another was testing to see if my fingers worked. yet another guy was sticking needles in my feet. eventually they got the door open, and i started to get out, but they all yelled at me, so i let them do it. they put me on a stretcher, put some sort of brace on my head, another on my neck, and strapped me down, just in case i had the sudden urge to do my famous tap-dance routine, i suppose. then the questions started... a = ambulence person c = cop b = brni (mind you, there were 5 or 6 rescue people, 3 cops, assorted other people, and later, 2 helicopter people, all questioning me at the same time, so if this gets confusing, its because it was.) c: last name? a: just relax, the chopper will be here soon. b: mojzes c: how do you spell that? c2: where do ya want yer car towed? b: huh? a2: squeeze my hand with your right hand. a3: (sticking a pin in each toe in succession) can you feel this? ... b: m-o-j yes z-e-s c2: yer car? b: how the fuck should i know? yes. squeeze like this? a?: good good. squeeze my finger between you thumb and index finger of your left hand. c: first name? b: can someone find my glasses? a??: (digging fingers hard into my solar plexus) does this hurt? b: no more than can be expected. bernard c: ber-nerd. social security number? a???: do you feel any injuries? b: my arm's broke. and so on. soon the chopper arrives, and one of the cops brings my glasses and puts them in my shorts pocket. chopper guy: hi there. we'll have you at the hospital soon. b: ok. ch: whats your name? b: brni mojzes. ch: when were you born? b: uh, 2 26, 1965. ch: whats today's date? b: august 4th. ch: what year? b: 1993. ch: who's the president of the united states? b: bill clinton. ch: who d'you *wish* was president? b: frank zappa. ch: (laughing) you'll be fine. they loaded me into the chopper and closed the door. i wanted to look out the window, since i'd never been in a helicopter before, but i was strapped down. sigh. it got louder and we took off. the chopper guy leaned over and yelled to me. ch: I THINK YOUR ARM'S BROKE. b: I KNOW. ch: THAT'S THE EASIEST DIAGNOSIS I'VE HAD ALL WEEK. WE, oops, we landed and they wheeled me into the emergency room. i didn't have to fill out any forms or sit in the waiting room at all. they took my wallet, earings, glasses, and the cop's business card, and put them all in an envelope, and put 2 IVs in my right arm. they cut off my favorite shorts. i'd been barefoot and shirtless, so they didn't get a chance to destroy my shirt and shoes. one of the nurses put a tube over my penis and told me to urinate or they'd put a catheter in me and get the urine sample themselves. i tried, really i did, but it's so hard to pee when you have 3 women standing there waiting for you, saying "hurry up, you've got 3 minutes or we're going in for it." sigh. then came the long nightmare of x-rays and cat scans and more x-rays, each of which involved getting me off the stretcher (which was metal) and on to some table or other, without moving my back or neck or arm (since the bone had almost punctured the skin), so they had to gather 5 or 6 people every time i had to be moved. toby, the woman who was doing my x-rays, was very sweet and very gentle. from the few times that she bent over close enough for me to see well, she was very attractive as well. i'll have to look her up when i'm in the area again. i never did get to see her with my glasses on, tho. hours later, they had finally determined that i won't be intantly parylized if i sit up, so the sat me up and took some x-rays of my arm. then they took me to the bone guy, who yelled at them for taking so long. this started a heated exchange where the nurse told him in no uncertain terms to fuck himself. tempers were rather short there. they'd had a busy day, and by 8 pm-ish, most of them still hadn't had a chance to eat lunch. doctor: (to nurse) give him some morphine. nurse: how much? d: oh, i don't know. n: well... d: a couple. use your own judgement. the nurse fed the morphine into my IV and in very little time a wave of pain reduction crossed my body. the doctor came over and squeezed my left arm and asked if it hurt. it did, a little bit, so i grimaced and said yes. he told the nurse to give me "some more," which she did. d: we're going to set your bone now. now i'm not going to lie to you. this is going to hurt a lot, even with the morphine. b: thats what i figured. a very large man propped me up and held me in place, then the doctor pulled on my arm hard, then pulled and pushed and squeezed and twisted until it was where he wanted it. i was paying attention to how the bone felt as it moved around in my arm. there was no pain. i tried to get a glass of water. i tried to get my glasses. i tried to get them to remove the damned catheter (which at that point was the only thing that was still causing some discomfort). later, they promised me, then left me in a hallway. later, they came to get me and did a bunch of x-rays. then they put me in the hallway again. after a while, they came back and got me. they did some more x-rays, because some of them hadn't turned out. ok. then they put me in the hallway again. then toby came back to get me. turns out they forgot one of the x-rays, so we just had one more to do. ok. i was expecting to break out in sores from radiation poisoning any time. after another wait in the hallway, they took me into an actual room, where i waited for a while. a very nice old man came to visit, then. he was wearing, if i remember correctly, i blue-grey blazer with an inverted collar. he introduced himself. we didn't shake hands, since one hand was immobilized and the other was tangled in IV tubes. "I've come to tell you a secret," he said, confidentiality dripping from his voice, "but you probably already know it." "probably," i said. "well, i'll tell you anyway," he said. "the secret is that jesus loves you." i supressed the urge to say "have you not heard? god is dead!" after all, he was there to comfort people who were left lying unattended in hallways, so it wasn't fair to take out my irritation at still having a catheter in me on this poor guy. "i'd heard a rumor to that effect," i said. then i told him about my dad being a minister (methodist), but actually being a professor. it was important to avoid some sort of sermon. the intern who had held me while they were setting my arm came in at that point, and asked the priest to leave. as he was leaving, krys showed up in the doorway. the intern was going to send her away too, but i asked for her to stay. she gave me a hug (carefully) and held my hand while the intern (was his name tom?) stapled my head closed. after some more waiting, a nurse came in and and got me my glasses, cleaned me off, removed the IV's, and, last but not by any means least, removed the catheter. yea!! my penis was free! it was late. i had no clothes except a hospital gown, so we called the police, who told us who towed my car, called them, got an answering machine and the guys beeper number, beeped him. he called back and agreed to meet us at the shop (rather nice, considering that it was 10pm). we got everything that looked like it might be relatively intact out of the car (with difficulty, considering that the car was a different shape from when they were put in the car). the tomatoes were, well, glass flavored spaghetti sauce. the nikon had been in the trunk :( and took some damage. i haven't been able to check to see if its still light-tight. the luna-pro made it, tho. we got my stuff in larry's car and heading to their home. after a while krys went to sleep (its a 3 hour drive), and larry was yawning. i offered to drive (as i was still not feeling any pain and was awake), but they wouldn't let me. i would yell at larry every time he stopped for a red light. by the time we reached virginia beach, i was in bad shape. we stopped at the emergency room there, and had a doctor re-align my arm and give me a better sling (one that totally immobilized the arm, this time, since every time i moved, i could feel the bone grating against itself). they were going to give me pain killers (demerol?), but the doctor decided that he wanted to start twisting my arm around before they gave it to me. larry held me up while he did this. the pain was intense, and i almost passed out. i got really cold and clammy, and when i regained some sense of what was going on, krys was holding me up and larry was sitting in a chair, breathing deeply and looking as pale and wobbly as i felt. seems he almost passed out and started swaying while he was holding me up. then they shot pain killers in my butt and sent us home. they put me in the master bedroom, since the guest room had a waterbed. i spent the next few days trying to get back to pennsylvania, a route that took me down to the outer banks of north carolina, then back to virginia beach, and finally to west chester, where i stayed for a month. it is now october 18th, and i'm finally getting around to finishing writing this thing up (i started in early september, when i got back to my computer, then got busy, and then even busier, went away, came back even busier...you know how these things go). i'm still waiting for my arm to heal. as of last wednesday, i finally got a little more mobility in my arm, and am now able to type with two hands rather than one (a slow process, that), and have even managed to play bass with two hands, again. i can only do a couple songs at a time, since my hand has been relatively unused for over 2 months, and i have to not only play with it, but also use it to hold my arm in place and to move my hand up and down the neck. but its a start :). thanks for listening, be careful and don't stop at red lights! brni ======================================================================== Date: Mon, 18 Oct 93 14:47:30 PDT From: kyrlidis@templeton.cchem.berkeley.edu (Angelos Kyrlidis) Subject: Kiss that frog Hi, Just wondering if anybody in Europe has picked up the PG CD singles for 'Kiss that frog'. I am asking because they cost *way* too much here to make buying them worthwhile. I am particularly interested in the remade/remixed Digging in the dirt track. Anybody willing to describe what it sounds like? Oh, and I thought the WOMAD thing in 'In concert' was ridiculous. They could have at least shown a PG clip from WOMAD and not repeated the PoV clip. The only thing I liked was the 'suitcase' bit (which wasn't from WOMAD)! Also, in case anybody's interested, Razor and Tie Records, a subsidiary of Capitol Records, have just re-released Tom Robinson's 'Power in the darkness' and TRB Two. They include the 'Don't take no for an answer' EP in the PITD CD!! [which is not present in the japanese import I own :(] Check them out! Which raises the question, will TR tour to support the re-release? Angelos 'stranded starfish have no place to hide' ======================================================================== Date: 18 Oct 93 18:21:38 EDT From: Mike Mendelson Subject: Alex sez: |First, I'm sorry Kath, that sounds like a pain in the ass. I wasn't |going to say anything but after this post I had to. Some of us *are* |allergic to fluffballs, even allergic enough that having an apartment |neighbor with a cat can cause trouble. This is especially true in |complexes where the vent ducts from bathroom and stove fans are |connected together from many apartments before reaching the roof. |It's not the hair, it's the air-borne dander that's the problem. |Also, think of a cat allergic person moving into a supposedly cat-free |complex only to find that the previous occupant had a cat... the |problem persists even after the pet is gone. I have checked out many |no pet places only to start sniffling and find cat hair (even after |carpet cleaning). This is a defininte "PET peeve" of mine. Don't get |me wrong, cats are cool, but I can't live with them. This is not |meant to flame Kath but to hopefully spread some deeper understanding |of "no pets allowed." Well, it's actually the saliva that causes allergies. I am horribly allergic to cats (ask C&V). However, the apt. I moved into (been there for 3 yrs now) was inhabited prior to myself by a Judy with Cats. I never had any problem with left over cat-stuff when I moved in. Perhaps the lack of carpets (it's all wood floors) is a reason. woj sez: |you know, i had just commented to meredith the other day that the more |i listen to _touch_, the less i find i like it. well, let me be more |clear: the less i like the two instrumentals and "ben's song". the former |seem pointless and the latter just grates on my ears. dunno why. i'm |much more fond of _solace_. Ahhhh, me-matey, 'tis more blasphemy I hear! Touch is and will always remain my favorite Sarah album: every song is great, and the album as a whole is like nothing I'd/ve ever heard before or since. It is so different from Solace that I'd almost not compare them. It's as if there were two Sarah's: the dreamy imaginary Sarah that did Touch, and the earthly, real Sarah, who's done her other stuff. Possession is superb, better than Solace, but it's the same earthbound Sarah. Nothing can touch Touch. Ben's song is *great*. The instrumental stuff is great. Touch is a must. Let me a add a plug here for Maestro Subgum and the Whole, and their 1992 CD "Lost Lost Lost." These people are sublime. Their music evokes Broadway, but with a nasty slant and twist; definitely theatrical, but with a rocking edge. They've got horns, and great lyrics, and great movement in the music. A few vocalists. This is a local Chicago act that has a deep underground following. I *still* haven't seen them live (partially because they usually play Fri. nights), but I hope to soon. I am very impressed with the CD, which has 17 songs. It's a local production from ACME studios, on a label called Yoni Yay! recordings for pleasure. They are supposed to be terrific live. Here's a sample lyric just to illustrate their offbeat-ness: Bamboo Guru ----------- Everybody needs a bamboo guru A windshield to hang it from A shrine for the bamboo guru And a prayer to make him come ... I live in a sharper image Where my purchases are assured And I listen at the newscast To each and every word And at night time I wait for my bamboo guru I long for his lightness and his touch... or, Love Elevator ------------- He tossed on the tattered couch Slept with hope that flown south The bed would be better, firmer, greater But only 1/2 full and him was the half that lay Hugging the hunger That hunger his traitor Turning, he wept and he slept When he woke it was later In a house full of everybodies He was always the center A wall for the leaners The gesture of a jester The chant of a cantor But my heart... I start at the penthouse Drop down to the basement My stomach jumps out at every floor I'm caught in a love elevator With no love elevator door Well, you get the idea. -ethnocentricmjm ======================================================================== The ecto archives are on hardees.rutgers.edu in ~ftp/pub/hr. There is an INDEX file explaining what is where. Feel free to send me things you'd like to have added. -- jessica (jessica@ns1.rutgers.edu)