His stage name could conceivably be pronounced three or four ways. His backstory reads like a person playing hopscotch over the western hemisphere. His vocals on the Pitchfork-approved cut “Shame” recall Jamie Stewart of Xiu Xiu howling for help in vain as he tumbles down a sinkhole. And the song’s words, well they are anyone’s guess. Yes, Montreal via New York City via Brazil performer Thomas Arseneault (nee Mas Ysa pronounced maas ee-sa) has oodles of intrigue.
Prompts is a joint creative exercise between my friend Matt W. and I. We will choose a different subject at the beginning of each week and post no more than 500 words on said topic on Fridays (or Sundays … wink, wink). Matt wrote about why he was a sports fan. I am writing about something slightly different – learning to cope with my sports addiction.
“If I cared this much about other things in my life I’d be a fully functioning adult.” ~ a text I sent to Matt on June 20, 2013.
At the moment I tapped out this text I stood inside Bowery Ballroom. Neo-hippie rocker Mikal Cronin’s fuzzed-out melancholia filled the room, yet failed to hold my attention. My focus centered on NBA Finals Game 7 between the Miami Heat and San Antonio Spurs. I refreshed my Scorecenter app on my iPhone every two minutes. I considered skipping Cronin’s concert, despite purchasing tickets a month in advance, to watch the game but figured I would be bummed if the Heat won … and I missed the concert. The Heat won that night, leaving me feeling furious despite the fact I consider their opponent, the Spurs, the human embodiment of a shoulder shrug. Cronin, poor guy, might as well have been elevator music.
Prompts is a joint creative exercise between my friend Matt W. and I. We will choose a different subject at the beginning of each week and post no more than 500 words on said topic on Fridays. Per the usual, I’m a few days late or a few days early with this one, depending on how you look at it. Choosing my favorite job was difficult, very difficult. It’s kind of like my favorite song; it alternates on a frequent basis.
Cajun Tomato’s NYC 100 is a periodic series chronicling my experiences and observations as a New Yorker. Today’s post – No. 37, if you’re keeping score at home – examines my desire to stay indoors on snow days and why I found myself outside Wednesday.
I woke at 10 a.m. on Tuesday to the sight of snow hurtling toward the ground with the same frantic pace New Yorkers tend to exude when they are late for work. The deep fried southerner in me envisioned flakes stinging my face in this concrete Siberia and said simply, “nah ah.” The forecast called for six to eight inches of snow, beginning at noon – not 10 a.m. So much for a quick trip to the grocery store, I thought. Today would be a delivery day. Mother Nature by way of the Polar Vortex had forced my hand.
Prior to Wednesday I considered skipping Governors Ball Music Festival this year despite three key components working in its favor – a) Outkast; b) I live within walking distance to Randall’s Island; and c) Outkast (both Andre 3000 and Big Boi are key components). Mother Nature conspired to ruin Governors Ball last year, and the memory of my boots sticking in the ground during Kanye West’s festival closing performance lingered. So did memories of lackluster food choices and poor visibility for many shows. (I’ve never attended a festival where I struggled to see the stage so often, and I am 6-foot-2 when not standing in swampy quicksand.)
Governors Ball’s lineup hints via social media in the weeks leading up the lineup release, while novel, failed to suggest how strong the final product would be. I skipped buying presale tickets Tuesday for that very reason – and in the process ended up spending $50 more. The festival’s full lineup release on Wednesday erased my skepticism and convinced me to buy tickets as soon as they went on-sale. As of this writing weekend passes are still available for Governors Ball, which runs from June 6-8.
Below are my 2014 Governors Ball Must-See Acts. My rankings are based on how much I like the performers’ music plus how many times I’ve seen live plus how much I enjoy their live show. My formula is weighted toward artists I’ve never seen before. That’s the point of going to festivals, right?
Prompts is a joint creative exercise between my friend Matt W. and I. We will choose a different subject at the beginning of each week and post no more than 500 words on said topic on Fridays. I’m a few days late or a few days early, depending on how you look at it.
My Biggest Obstacle In 2014: Fear of Failure
Cajun Tomato’s NYC 100 is a periodic series chronicling my experiences and observations as a New Yorker. Today’s post – No. 36, if you’re keeping score at home – looks at the flu gospel and the secret to salvation in the harsh New York City winter.
She sat to my right in the pharmacy’s two-seat waiting area moments after the needle poked me. Her age and weight were probably equal, somewhere between 85 and 90. She was frail with big veins and bigger glasses and spoke to me in rapid Spanish and smiles, holding up three, four, five fingers to punctuate her points. I nodded along but had zero clue what the words leaping off her tongue meant. Except, that is, when she tapped her left arm. It was the universal signal for flu shot. I returned her smile but resisted the urge to tap my arm.
Just in time for tonight’s Golden Globe Awards on NBC here are my favorite movies of 2013. These are the movies that made me laugh till my face hurt, turn reflective and not speak for several hours after, and even shed tears at man’s ill treatment of man. More importantly, these movies didn’t make me hate myself for spending the $14.50 ticket fee.
Prompts is a joint creative exercise between my friend Matt W. and I. We will choose a different subject at the beginning of each week and post no more than 500 words (or in this case 800) on said topic on Fridays. Matt is a Washington native and thus a Seahawks fan. I am a south Louisiana native and thus a Saints fan.
Prompts: Why The Saints Will Beat The Seahawks