Ginger's follies, foibles and fixations.
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| You Listen to Me, Mr. Kick-Ass Ginger's follies, foibles and fixations. |
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Saturday, August 09, 2003  audblog audio postMore like 25 feet, actually. That's just my hazy sense of spatial relations talking. posted by Ginger | 7:49 PM Friday, August 08, 2003 Score!  You may laugh--laugh!--at my deep and abiding love for Hanson--despite the fact that they have no label, no album to speak of, Ike got the stupidest haircut on earth, and the middle kid knocked up a high-schooler--but I am like SO totally PsYcHeD!!!! I'm off tomorrow for a lost weekend in Maryland. I'll say 'hi' to cheerleader, so-and-so and whats her face for ya. posted by Ginger | 2:45 AM Thursday, August 07, 2003 The Most Photographed Dinosaur in America. Today.  We bloggers have fallen into our little roles in this thing called MOB. In my MOB universe, for instance, one goes to Fred for the details, Mike for the excellent photos (though Fred is no slouch in the photography department), Sean for the International roundup and me for, oh I don't know, a wordy half-baked theory or something. Maybe other mobbers have formed their own virtual sewing circles of MOB blog, I don't know. The nice thing about this one was that I actually got to meet my sewing circle -- part of it anyway. Fred, Mike and I had traded a couple of emails due to their actual and my impending-but-fizzled press coverage (I'm OK about it, really) and expressed intentions of somehow recognizing each other in the masses and saying hello. When I got to the Howard Johnson's, already filling with the standard-issue hipster youth at 6:40pm, I once-overed the group and realized I had absolutely no idea what Fred looked like, and so I stood in line to order a drink and hoped that I looked enough like my writing to be spotted (my non-virtual friends--and I do have them believe it or not--tolerate my mobbing with mild amusement but couldn't be bothered to actually attend...). Having obtained my vile bottom-shelf vodka tonic (I felt sorry for the overwhelmed bartenders, so I ordered something easy) I moved back and rested my drink on a table for two occupied by a lone gentleman who smiled affably enough. "Maybe I should just sit here," I thought. "But no, I should keep an eye out for Fred...oh that IS Fred!" and so we introduced ourselves, had a nice chat and marveled at the MOB blooming furiously all around us. Slips were handed out and we made our way out the door, me once again fretting about being too conspicuous as a group all heading there at once, and also concerned about getting there too early, as it was a full 13 minutes before we were supposed to be in place. Fred wanted to get moving and he was right. I had no idea how long it would take for us all to load in to the Toys 'R' Us down the street. As far as walking there, though, the choice of Times Square was brilliant for hiding masses of people walking in one direction. Mob + tourists = invisibility. Good work. Inside the Toys 'R' Us the mass of people streaming up the escalators was remarkable. Fred spotted Mike first and we had a round of hand-shaking and introducing friends and so forth, then the pressing need to get upstairs - egad! - it was nearly 7:15! At the top of the escalator I managed to lose both Mike and Fred entirely, who were engrossed with snapping photos and I was just trying to get out of the way of the hordes still coming up behind me. Told to stay away from the T-Rex until 7:18, I went into some corner of the Lego section, and then soon realized that the crowd had filled the entire floor, and now it was too crowded for me to get a good place in the middle of the action. Still, off to the side as I was, I could see the T-Rex in all its majesty, so I proceeded to stare fixedly at the great beast in awe and terror (whilst stealing glances at my watch to keep to the timeline). It roared. We stared. A young guy, maybe a teenager, was over on the side near me trying to get through the utterly packed crowd. Just as he said "excuse me" to, well, about 20 of us, in unison we all suddenly dropped to our knees (you could hear the whooomth! of 500 mobbers a-kneeling). Near me, one woman let out a high-pitched scream. She obviously did not read the instructions. I didn't look at the young guy who was trying to get through (still standing), but I could sense he was giggling to himself in a what the fuck...? kind of way. Bingo. But a funny thing happened. Once we all kneeled, the beast stopped roaring. It still moved, the mouth slightly agape, the eyes blinking, but it wasn't roaring. The moans and keening from the crowd with raised, supplicating hands seemed to please this mighty creature and he surveyed the crowd, back and forth. Then he let out a roar and the crowd roared back in terror, cowering. His dominance secure, the monster again went quiet, gazing back and forth at his minions, satisfied... No shit -- it really seemed like the dinosaur was responding to us. Mike says that panicked TRU staffers turned it off, but it never seemed to stop moving--it didn't roar for a little while, then it did again, then it got quiet. I even wondered if the MOB planners ("friends of Bill?") somehow knew that the T-Rex went quiet at a certain time of night, but I doubt that's the case. I never saw it go still, but that could be because everyone suddenly got up about a minute ahead of schedule and started moving back toward the escalator, and digital cameras everywhere went nuts. My own attempts to record the event for posterity were fairly useless - I realize that I enjoy being in-the-moment too much to worry about taking good photos, which is why I am glad folks like Mike and Fred are around. I never did see Fred again, he having zapped himself into the ether and was probably back in his apartment typing before I made it to the escalator. Mike I did observe downstairs snapping a journalist interviewing a family who were, every one, quite literally open-mouthed with bafflement about the whole thing. He was busy doing his thing, so I decided to do as the directions say and shove off from the store as quickly as possible and head toward the subway, just as it began to rain. posted by Ginger | 10:02 PM Mob "R" We It is unbelievable how quickly folks get their blog posts online. I've accused Fred of teleportation ability; his post was up just twenty-three minutes after I was still trying to get out of the dang store. Oh yes, and you can just see me holding the trusty elph off to the far right in one of Mike's lovely photos. I MOB therefore I am. It was fun. I have to throw in a load of laundry but will be back with more in a sec. posted by Ginger | 9:13 PM Speak up, sistas I don't mean to flog the dead horse of my cancelled radio interview (honestly, I'm over it), but I just realized today that in all the press I've heard and read about flash mobs so far--which admittedly is far from all of it--there is a distinct lack of female voices. Nearly all of the Mob participants interviewed are men, yet the reporters themselves are frequently women. Of the five stories I have handy, three are written by women and all contain quotes from a number of sources who either particpate in or organize the mobs. Of these many Mobsters, only two brief (and, I'm sorry, rather banal) quotes are from women--that's assuming "Merilyn" is a woman anyway--both of which, oddly enough, focus on how totally awesome it is that the mobs are mindless and apolitical. Not that I disagree entirely, but these quotes lack the insight displayed by the more frequently interviewed guys (Fred, Sean, Mike, "Bill," et. al.). Not to say the guys can't be idiots too - the two doofuses interviewed on NPR a couple of weeks ago come to mind. And I also understand that often printed quotes are--to put it kindly--not entirely accurate, and sound bites can be taken out of context. Still, this doesn't address the fact that the voices of the Mob "phenom" in the press--insightful or no--are overwhelmingly male. I'm not about to cry patriarchal conspiracy; I suspect it's just carelessness. These stories are often put in the "technology" sections of publications and pale guys in floppy khakis are the poster children for a wired generation. The reporter shows up, finds a guy with chunky glasses and a digital camera, and they've got their quote. Next! But the women are there, I've seen them. About 50% of the average Mob is gals, I reckon. Some of them have blogs, even. So why aren't we hearing more from them? So anyway, a case in point is today's article in the Philadelphia Inquirer with some brilliant quotes from a fellow Brooklynite, but not a whiff of estrogen (except for the writer). Weird. [update: by the way, this story references the Chicago fauxmob proposed on the comments of cheesebikini? I doubt there's been any attempt to verify whether or not this is a hoax. If it isn't, it should be.] posted by Ginger | 2:16 PM Howdy, Fellas There are a whole lot of extraordinarily good-looking gay cowboys lined up across the street right now. posted by Ginger | 1:02 PM Are you SURE this isn't from The Onion? "I will promise you when I go up to Sacramento, I will pump Sacramento up." [Californians! Vote for Wil!] P.S. Anyone want to explain to me how "Trackbacking" works? I don't get it. posted by Ginger | 1:13 AM Wednesday, August 06, 2003 dag, yo I just got a call from the woman who set up the radio interview, and it's been cancelled. The boss-man didn't want to broadcast an interview with a Noo Yawka for a show ostensibly about the Cambridge Mob. Ah well. The quest for immortality thwarted, yet again. Who knows though. They've moved the whole story to Friday, and with MOB 6 scheduled soon, perhaps that will reestablish my relevance. The BBC on Pee As I was typing the above, I caught a bit of a report on BBC World Service about people in India who are turning to urine therapy to cure various diseases and disorders. I didn't catch the whole story, but it reminded me of "Yoga Bitch," the entertaining one-woman show directed by my friend Jean-Michele. Something's in the air -- next thing you know there will be piss-drinking salons opening next to those rice-pudding parlors and organic hot dog stands in Williamsburg. posted by Ginger | 9:34 AM so good or no good? Though I relate more to whats her face, I'm afraid that with my new glasses I eerily resemble the ugly one:  [i have a crush on EVERY BOY!!] True dat. posted by Ginger | 12:34 AM Tuesday, August 05, 2003 Better, Faster, More! I just spotted this in the comments section of cheesebikini?: CHICAGO FLASH MOB #1 SUNGLASSES AT NIGHT Friday August 29, 2003 @ 9PM West Side of the John Hancock Building We will come together wearing sunglasses and cough in unison for 1 minute. This will be the beginning of what will become the strongest, most intelligent, and largest Flash Mob group. Join us! This had better be a joke. I know I was just all touchy-feely about how your MOB is your own, dude, but if anyone is motivated by being in the "X-est" mob EVER - well, they can have it. posted by Ginger | 6:42 PM The Voice of a MOB Generation So, first I was interviewed for, then not included in, this AP story (big ups to our homie Fred, though). Now, I have agreed to do a phone interview tomorrow morning for a Boston NPR affiliate. I don't know what to think. Most of the people involved with organizing these MOBs prefer to stay out of the spotlight, or give pseudonyms when interviewed. There are plenty of other people out there willing to lob a sound bite. I've only been to two (of five) MOBs - I'm far from an expert. Did I need to be a yet another pundit for this 'latest thing?' I always liked the idea that MOBs weren't about a person or personalities, but about people -- lots of them, in one place, for ten minutes or less. What more needs to be said? On the other hand, I like that there are a variety of voices out there. There is no MOB spokesmodel. In fact, the more MOBsters you ask, the more different answers you will get on why they've gotten involved--some like to be seen doing something 'wacky," others hope it will grow into something political, still others get off on the infectious joy, some are just bored. To some it's art, to others a reason to get a beer on a weeknight. "What's the point?" I've been asked. Well, that's the beauty of it. If it appeals to you and you participate, then you've just created your own "point." The idea that the MOB's purpose has to come from some visionary authority is just our reluctance to take responsibility for our own fun. The MOB is the canvas for a community--yet highly personal--art project. IMO. So, I'm going to do the interview, but I make no promises about how witty--not to mention coherent--I will be that early in the morning (pre-caffiene - yikes-o-rama). The interview will air later, around 12:40pm or so EDT - so check the website if you want to listen. I just hope I don't sound like an ass. posted by Ginger | 5:43 PM Monday, August 04, 2003 My Audience With much gratitude to E, I am now able to verify that someone reads this blog occasionally, and how they get here. I'm always thrilled when someone links to me--and even more so when someone clicks that link--but I'm over the moon when someone arrives via some bizarre search. My favorite today is this evocative phrase. What gets me is that people who search for this stuff actually click on the link to this site, though this blog's title does not, at least to me, scream "get cher [pr0n] here!" -- though I do suppose the "Furniture Porn" link gets me a few tourists now and again. Well, heck, YLTMMKA is a welcoming webspace, and all you pre-verts out there should feel free to come in and take a look around. I warn you, you're not going to find a lot of action here, besides a few cagey references to my (almost) nonexistent dating life, but knock yourself out. The closest thing to risqué you'll find from me is this book review, of which I am quite proud. In fact, if you Google me, you get more references to this review than anything else, it having been copied on several on-topic websites. Just goes to show what captures people's attention. posted by Ginger | 12:40 AM |
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