in life and in death

I saw Wilco on Friday at the Saratoga Mountain Winery. Best performance was Impossible Germany. I love Wilco songs, particularly their last cd Sky Blue Sky, but somehow I didn't feel connected to them live...Had seared tuna salad at Cheesecake Factory yesterday and then a shaved ice dessert at Monster Desserts @ Tanforan afterwards. Walking around downtown on way to Cheesecake Factory, noticed an abnormal number of well-groomed, muscular guys in tight t-shirts. Then it occurred to me, it's Gay Pride weekend here in SF...Loved Up, the latest work of art from Pixar. Those guys really put out quality films, full of heart and magic. The message in this one is that, our everyday life is an adventure, and we should cherish the wonder of it all. So true...The Hangover was also great. Glad to see Bradley Cooper finally getting the movie star attention he so deserves, but the best thing about The Hangover is Zack Galifianakis, whose character is so sweetly strange and awkward that you want to become his friend partially because you feel sorry for him and partially because you think he will be painfully loyal...Look Ma! I am suddenly a reader. I finished reading Milan Kundera's Ignorance (it's just okay - yup, that's my in-depth, thoughtful book review). I am next moving on to either Murakami's After The Quake, or Michael Chabon's The Amazing Adventures Of Kavalier & Clay...Chi Young and I may have murdered a young apple tree in the backyard. We tried to move the tree to a better spot in the yard a few days ago, and now it looks like it's on its last breath; the leaves are drying out fast and the little fruits it had are all turning soft. Yikes. I think if it dies for real, I will have to buy a new one to replace it...I actually have an observation to make about Michael Jackson's death. The reaction has been huge. I suppose that is to be expected for one of the most famous musical icons we've ever had, but I also notice the sentimentality has completely erased the fact that the guy, after the eighties, really became a wacko, with all the child molestation suspicions, all the plastic surgeries and oxygen chambers and skin-bleachings, all the oddball marriages (Lisa Marie Presley? Debbie Rowe?), and all the financial woes and lawsuits and business shenanigans (stealing the Beatles catalog right from under Paul McCartney's nose). And this is not to mention that he's had practically no real musical output for about ten years, and he covers his kids' faces in masks out in public. Sigh. I guess death has a way of forgiving strange behaviors. Everyone is a better person after they die (well, maybe except for Hitler)...I wonder what they'll say about me, if anything at all, when I die. Will I become this man that I'd always aspired to be - loving, smart, fun, charming, deep, imaginative, talented, and kickass handsome? Somebody please say all those things in the eulogy, particularly the kickass handsome part...