yeah, it’s your main move, it’s called FAIL

Ah! Fun crazy vacation. Been so busy, on the road, citeh to citeh (livin’ the Hollywood life, perhaps). We do, however, have a day off in, two days, I think? So then I should have some decent writing/blogging/catching up time. For now, dudes, here is a glimpse at all the mayhem and shenanigans we Tweedys (Tweedites? Tweetians?) bring cross-country.

Amoeba Rasputin Records marquee, “new Wilco album, 6/30.” Trufax. Buy it! Go! Fetch… in three days!

Mural in a vacant lot. Pretty ~psychedelic~ man. Not as much as this, though..

My mom and I went exploring in Berkeley and I came back like this.

Funny story, actually (not really). We were walking around and saw a tie-dye street vendor.. thaaat’s it, kind of. Oh, then I changed in the street (what, we’re in San Fran, it’s normal) and I came back to the venue – The Greek – clad in full tie-dye.

I’ve gotten so many strange looks these past couple of hours. Believe me. But I think for the most part, people here are used to seeing strange things? I don’t know.

Here, child, candy from a stranger, hmm?

Tallulah! Spot the tie-dye?

We got to see Charlie again (on Thursday). This time, Danny was kangaroo-caring with him! It was awesome seeing him out of the incubator for once. We got to do that, and visit the Tonight Show with Conan. It was so fun being there. Like the last time Wilco was on (when it was Leno), they had an Animal Planet dude plus a bunch of show animals. I felt bad for them, being hauled around in cages and whatever, but I’m sure they’re pampered and have a great life. (Or  at least that’s what I tell myself to not feel bad for them. Heh..) It was the first episode of the Tonight Show I’d seen with Conan, and I relleh relleh liked it. So. Funny.

Aight, I must go. I’m at the Greek Theatre now, wearing my full tie-dye and [was] blowing bubbles and playing mini-golf. Really adopting the San Fran lifestyle, methinks. *non-creepy wink.. y’know, like a lot of winks are creepy? non-creepy wink. there. bye. *similarly non-creepy smiley face* *

Title: Sammy referring to Kendall’s fighting skillz. Quite the funny fellow, Sammy is.

Some Garbage Like The Sky

I got to see Charlie today! In case you didn’t know, Charlie is my uncle Danny and aunt Kendall’s child, who was born almost two moths ago as a micro-preemie baby (super premature). He weighed only like one pound when he was born, so the whole situation was very alarming. (For the whole scoooop on teh baby, read Danny’s blog. Duhhh.) That said, he is so cute! Observe his tiny lil’ baby presence:

My mom saw the nurses change his diaper last night and was very surprised by his… “The baby’s three pounds and his penis takes up two of them.” Jeesh. (I can’t imagine what kind of audience this paragraph will attract.. Well, I can, but I’d rather not :/ .)

Los Angeles has been fu-u-un. Since we landed two nights ago, we’ve been swimming, walking, swimming, playing basketball, swimming… Not to mention our car ride from the airport. Ah, so many [innapropriate] quotes were made that night.. Let’s just say the theme of the ride was farts, Botox, balls, donuts, more donuts, and balls. And swear words (ooooh, watch out, we’re hardcore – just like my tattoo!). I tried to chronicle our expedition via tweet but it was only half successful (you can’t relay everything through txting).

(the donut place we went to) Win. And fail. But mostly win.

The plane ride was not nearly as wonderous. I finished The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, which I liked very very much. I read the last page right as our plane started landing (perfect timing, brah). It is a great – they’re not good, they’rrre grrrrrreat! … just had to put that somewhere – book that I would highly recommend reading. Like I could not stop saying before, there are so many things to think and write about this book. And, of course, when I actually do start writing about it, I forget nearly all of them. T___T oh wellz. More about it later.

When we finally got to the hotel it wasn’t long till someone was running around in boxers and we were all eating caramel corn and watching Urkle on TV. Whaaat? Yes, we are SUCH a b.a. rockstar fam.. You don’t even know. I doubt this hotel will even be in business when we leave. (Or how big our expenses bill will be.) MUAHAHA. Juuuuust kidding. Not about the Urkle part, though. Or the caramel corn. Or boxers. *evil-ish skeptical eye*

Our hotel is, well, a hotel in L.A. It’s kind of like some obnoxious wannabe-celebrity hangout bar thing – diiisgusting. Such a peculiar place, L.A. is. I mean, we’ve been here before. But it’s always weird seeing fancy bars and whore-houses and whatever. Hah! That makes us sound like some hillbillies. But it’s true – we is not from this land.

Father’s Day was fun, too. We went to my zaid’s (yes we call him zaid) buddy’s house.

Me and Leah chillin’ in a sun-pod.

You know, I never really knew where to put the apostrophe in Fathers Day. Wouldn’t it be “fathers’ ” because it’s possessive to more than one father? Or just “father’s” because the general public would be confused by an apostrophe after the “s” (whoops, non-misanthrope status revoked)?

Okay, internet is literally like four bugajillion dollars here (per computer, also). Wilco’s playing a show tonight, so expect a lack of sleep on my part. Adios!

P.S. In a rush livin’ the Hollywood lifestyle (yeeeeah right), so I’ll probz refine this post later. Thank you.

(Title: Lyric from one of my teacher’s band’s (yes my teacher) songs. They’re quite good, actually. Very strong Pavement roots, which I think is not a bad thing (gotta luv Pavement). Btw, the sky is, in fact, not garbage. And I love this song.)

People Say I Look Like A Turtle

I started reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower last night. So far, I’m preeetty sure it will be one of my favorite books. Or as Charlie would say, “It’s my favorite because it’s the last one I read.” I kinda love it. The book reminds me a lot of The Outsiders – main character is an emotional boy, dealing with growing up, etc. The Outsiders is also one of my favorites. Both have such great characters that I can really relate to. Yeah, it sounds cheezy, but there are so many times (in both) that I can really ~*identify with*~. I have not gone through anything like the crazy stuff that Ponyboy and Charlie have/did (i.e. running away from home with your potentially-a-fugitive best friend). But even then, and even being so much younger than both of those characters, there are some times where I can really feel what they feel or what they’re thinking. (I think that’s the sign of a really good author.) I’m usually known as the emotional one.. I know it sounds weird, especially being, like I said, younger than these characters (Charlie, in particular), but I almost feel like I know more than them. Not in a pretentious way (or at least not intentionally), but in more like an understanding way. Eh, I dunno. I’ll probably look back on that sentence in a couple years (or even a couple months.. weeks… tomorrow morning) and think I was being, well, pretentious – but at least I’m trying not to be. BLAH BLAH TEEN ANGST BLAH.

One of my favorite teachers, ever, told me once something that I [hope I] will never forget. It was something that I probably already knew, but just didn’t know exactly what it was yet. He said that my so-and-so (it was some French expression I can’t remember, but it means like “mode of operation”) [UPDATE: I think it was "modus operandi"] is “seek to understand.” I felt so enlightened after he told me this; it just really made sense. If you know how my brain works, which very few people do, you would know what I’m talking about. And that my brain is wired that way, to seek to understand.

(From some artists named Francisco Infante-Arana and Nonna Gorunova on BOOOOOOOM. Random? YES.)

At first, I must admit I was a teeeny bit scared (well, not really scared.. just aware) that the simplistic, letters-from-a-child style of writing would rub off on me. And, you know, it probably will (psshh, it already has). Whenever I’m reading a book or an author that I really like I usually find myself – whether it’s a subconscious thing or whatever – having a little bit of a new twist or adjustment in my own writing style. I think that’s fine, as long as you’re not emulating / mocking / being un-unique about it. It’s all part of “finding your voice,” I guess. Back in like, 4th grade when I was really into the Eragon and Eldest books, I wrote a lot like Christopher Paolini. I don’t know if you’ve read any of his stuff, but he’s got a kind of drawn-out, long-winded, very descriptive, vivid type of writing. That was really good for school assignments and making stories for class and whatnot, but I’m very happy with how I can write now as opposed to how I wrote then. I was just trying to be too child-professional (boy, don’t get me started on that).

Johnny Cash wrote a poem around the gist of this, I believe. It’s printed on the back of Bob Dylan’s Nashville Skyline vinyl-case-thing (sleeve?). It goes like this:

OF BOB DYLAN

There are those who do not imitate,

Who cannot imitate

But then there are those who emulate

At times, to expand further the light

Of an original glow. Knowing that to imitate the living

Is mockery

And to imitate the dead

Is robbery

There are those

Who are beings complete unto themselves

Whole, undaunted,– a source

As leaves of grass, of stars,

As mountains, alike, alike, alike,

Yet unalike

Each is complete and contained

And as each unalike star shines

Each ray of light is forever gone

To leave way for a new ray

And a new ray, as from a fountain

Complete unto itself, full, flowing.

So are some souls like stars

And their words, works and songs

Like strong, quick flashes of light

From a brilliant, erupting cone.

So where are your mountains

To match some men?

This man can rhyme the tick of time

The edge of pain, the what of sane

And comprehend the good in men, the bad in men

Can feel the hate of fight, the love of right

And the creep of blight at the speed of light

The pain of dawn, the gone of gone

The end of friend, the end of end

By math of trend

What grip to hold what he is told

How long to hold, how strong to hold

How much to hold of what is told.

And Know

The yield of rend; the break of bend

The scar of mend

I’m proud to say that I know it,

Here-in is a hell of a poet.

And lots of other things.

And lots of other things.

- Johnny Cash

Sorry, it’s kind of long. I couldn’t bring myself to shorten it down to just the first part (the relevant part), because I think that would be a little demeaning/disrespectful to Mr. Cash here and his poem. You can’t really edit poems, anyway. You just can’t. Anyway, the poem is about Bob Dylan, in case you couldn’t tell. There are some parts I don’t get right now, but I think the beginning is pretty interesting. I really like when he says “… to imitate the living is mockery, and to imitate the dead is robbery.” I never knew Johnny was such a poet.

Man, I hope this book isn’t rubbing off on me too much! Like I said, I think books and other people’s writing having an influence on you is a good thing, most of the time, unless you completely imitate that person. So I apologize, if Perks of Being a Wallflower is having a big influence on my writing right now and if it’s too apparent (or if I’m being too serious). I just love it that much *smiley face*.

Bah, there’s just so much to write and think about this book. Every time I pick it up I get a gush of inspiration (I’m sure you know the feeling), it’s just so beautiful *wipes tears, mocks poignance*. But really.. I think when I’m done, I’ll reread it with a pen and notepad nearby to take notes and whatever. Then again, I say that about a lot of stuff (Star Trek, other movies, other books…) and never end up doing it. Maybe this will be the first?

Of course, when I’m done writing for the night and finally go to sleep, all the ideas and great phrasing and perfect sentences come back. But I guess that’s just how it is. (I do, however, keep a journal on my nightstand.. usually I’m too asleep to jot anything down, but it can be useful sometimes.) To give you just an idea of how this book makes me feel, read this:

I read or hear or see something great sometimes and I want to pour my heart and soul into it. I want to become a part of it, for it to be a part of me. Almost like I want it to define me, even if it’s not like me. Kind of like the feeling of “what if.” Laying in bed at night, feeling alone, wondering if anybody out there hurts like you do, the “what if” feeling. Anxiety. You’re tired and your thoughts get so big – God knows you can’t control them (even if you try to) – it feels like they are you. In the morning, you know better, though. Those thoughts don’t make you! I talk to my dad a lot about that stuff. He likes to tell me about Buddhists and what they think about thoughts. Huh, that sounds funny. “What they think about thoughts.” Anyway, sometimes he says to just look at your thoughts as like a computer screen.. one thing pops up, and you watch it pass by on the screen, just observe. Goes to show the saying is right, I guess; it’s not what you think that matters, it’s your reaction to it. That’s the whole idea behind this Buddhist thing, I think. And it goes in to all those trees about letting emotion take control of you and branches of the little thoughts and worries that eventually drive you to tears and make you a little bit angry. But really you’re just tired. Who doesn’t get tired sometimes? You know, I would say “I don’t know” if I felt alone. Like I said, though, I know better now. And even though sometimes doubt gets the best of you – us – all it takes is a little bit of [confidence] to get past that. And you are never alone.

Off to L.A. soon, so I’ll see you guys later. Oh, and please, no spoilerz in the comments? (I’m only on about page 100 or something.) Thank you.

Love always,

Spencer

(now that was a [inside] joke)

Auto Telephoto Mr. Roboto

This weekend was spent at the pool, just hangin’ out, pretty much. Now it feels like summer..

(photo – Leica, unfocused while experimenting w/ manual shutter and light settings. reminds me of this and this. very “bokeh”)

Oh! My mom found the other cameras! They’re so cool.. One of them, an old Canon, has crusty battery juice all over the back, but hopefully when we take them all in to be looked over/fixed it will still work. She also found a bunch of lenses, including this one really weird zoom one that looks like a missile-turbine-ish thing. Speaking of missiles, I had a dream the other night where Russia was firing missiles at us (us: some of my classmates and a teacher)… We were just standing there, and Ray looks up and goes “HOLY S–T IT’S THE K-9!” (K-9? Stereotypical Russian nuclear weapon code? My brain iz weird. [what's weird is that, in my dream, I subconsciously thought of that being weird/a stereotypical Russian weapon-name.. do I smell some lucid dreaming?!]) Then this huge rocket-thing flies down and hits right by us, followed by machine gun fire, then we go find shelter. It was scarrrry. Tavi and Keara also had strange dreams, I hear. Well, if you call meeting Zach Quinto/shooting zombies a strange dream, yes.

The old Canon.

The missile lens and another old camera, a Mamiya. The lens is super dirty, I doubt it would take any good pictures.

But doesn’t it totally look like some drill weapon-ish thingy?! No, it totally looks like something in Transformers, like one of their gun-arms or something. We just watched that in the car and it was very much higher than my expectations, actually.. I kinda liked it. Not as soul-worthy as Star Trek, but still pretty damn cool. I <3 Autobots.

And finally, the Olympus. My mom says this was her main camera (back when she was majoring in photography), and that she’s taken thousands of pictures with it/can remember using it so well. It was the first one we found.

There are some lenses for this one, too. I don’t know how to work them [yet] – just look at all those meters and stuff! – but, if I even get the cameras working, and choose to use them, for that matter, I’ll figure it out. Experimentation, right? You know, that’s not entirely true. Technical stuff (i.e. learning how to use those lenses) could use some additional advising, maybe some “usage of the Google machine,” but.. you get it.

A zoom lens we found. I think it’s the biggest (and newest/nicest looking) one we have.

I don’t know which camera it works for yet, but it looks really cool.

Auto telephoto Mr. Roboto.

By the way, my great-grandfather’s Polaroid isn’t an SX-70. Whoops. It’s actually a wee bit older (like, four decades or so), not even close to the SX-70. It’s so old, it still has the leather telescopic foldout thingy that cameras used to have. I’m almost positive it’s a Model 95A. It’s also in near-perfect condition, but I don’t think I would want to use it – it’s more of a look-we-have-something-that-could-be-in-a-museum item, y’know? What that really means, is, it will probably sit in my closet or our attic, again, until one day later in life I re-rediscover it and say, “whoa, look at this! dude, I blogged about this when I was like, 13!” If that’s how I talk in the future… I might have a robot voice and robot eyes and legs and arms. WE MIGHT ALL BE CYBORGS (or Autobots). God, I hope not… That would totally demean the awesomeness of humans and mankind (once again: and you thought I was a misanthrope!), however stupid we may be right now. (*cough* really stupid…) Dude, I’d much rather have a human brain than a robot brain. (And you can quote me on that.) Even though I’d probably be able to do math supah-fast (psshh, I can already do that) and play video games and go on the internet AND TWEET… AND BLOG from inside my head. But that’s what computer-contact-lenses are for! I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again. Sometimes I kinda wish I was alive during the 60’s, etc etc, or that I lived/live in the woods. I mean, technology is great and all – incredible communication, health care and whatnot – but wouldn’t it be nice to just, I dunno.. have a pet bug or somethin’? ‘Tis a conversation for another time, I think. Anyway, here’s the Polaroid:

The original carrying case, with the manuals and stuff.

The guides.

The instructions.

It, closed.

It, open, with flash (missing bulb, though).

Notice how the meter is on 4. Could there still be film in there?!

Pretty cool, no? There are more pictures of all the cameras and stuff on my new Flickr account. I just bought the Pro because I figure, if I’m going to start sharing a lot of photos I ought’a have one, right? It was highly advised by a lot of Flickr aficionados, so I think it was a good decision.

Anyway, C U L8R, G8R. CN U UND3RSTND WAT I SYNG? Oh, and don’t worry; this isn’t going to be all obsessed with photography all the time. ~diversity~, y’allz.

Speaking Of Maces

People. I went up to our attic with my mom today, and, man, there is so much AMAZING stuff up there. So much. For instance, my great-grandfathers aaaancient Polaroid camera (like one of the first versions, I think, leather casing and everything), with original manual and crazy-cool external flash bulb thingy. I also found a typewriter (in mint condish, I might add), tons of records, and, of course, old early-childhood memory things. Actually, we went up there first to find my mom’s old film cameras – we couldn’t find them! Oh well, they’ll probably turn up somewhere. I’m just glad we went up there – even though it’s where we store all our scary Halloween props and it reminds me of campfire stories from the 7th grade trip – and found all that other cool stuff.

I think that’s the model he had, or close to it. I’ll post a picture of ours once I.. take a picture of it. I hope it still works. Even if it doesn’t, it will be awesome to keep around and look at. In the case that it doesn’t work, and if I was going to buy a Polaroid (vintage, preferably – but I don’t need any more cameras at the moment.. heh), what’s a good place to buy one? I know, eBay probably has lots of them, but I’m afraid of getting ripped off/it looks confuzzling/is it even a decent place to buy a camera (sorry, eBay noob)? Maybe I could just find one at a yardsale!

NEW: Wait! Yes! A camera has been found! I knew they were hiding somewhere.. My mom found it in a closet (of course). She only found one, for now, and just a couple of lenses (and the manuals and stuff are in the attic, we know). Now I must learn how to use them…