Groove on the Rubble

And this was the scene. Wild party, man.

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah are finally set to release “Some Loud Thunder,” the much-anticipated follow up to their self-titled debut (which topped my best albums of 2005 list). It’s about f’n time.

They’re marketing it brilliantly with Insound. It won’t be released until January 30th, but I can pre-order it now AND get the digital version immediately (you can also order a “limited edition” t-shirt if you really want people to know you’re a cool, in-the-know indie rocker). I like it for two reasons:

1) It satisfies my excessive need for instant gratification

2) It gets me listening now so I can start the grass-roots marketing before it hits the shelves.

Clever, clever. Album review to come soon. Really soon. I mean I’m downloading it right now. Before it’s released!

While we’re talking music by bands with long names: I just finished toe tappin’ to Pretty Girls Make Graves’ “Elan Vital.” Give it a shot. It’s good stuff.

While I’ve been here I’ve been watching and asking…and learning. Here are a few things I’ve learned:

• One can do amazing things with nut paste, graham flour and ghee. Delicious sweets abound

• In Hindi culture, there is a saying that “guests are gods” and people live it. I’ve never felt more accepted and cared for

• Typically Indian bathrooms don’t have paper towels or hand dryers. I carry a handkerchief now like my male counterparts. It feels so old school

• Everyone seems to use “boss” like I use “dude”

• Mom jokes never work and sarcasm only works in certain circles. For instance, a group of colleagues was educating me about the Parsi culture, to which I responded “I heard Parsis eat babies” (completely joking, of course). Instead of chuckles I got strange looks. Live and learn

• If you see someone render their name like “M.V. Ranade” and everyone calls him Ranade, he’s probably from South India. That’s how they roll

• One lakh is 100,000 and one crore is 10,000,000

• Auto rickshaw meters always start with 1. You should subract that from your fare

More to come…

My friend and YouTuber Ches Wajda liked our video and recommended it as a feature on the home page. Since then, it’s gotten more than 100,000 views. Really neat…and really weird.
And the video has been parodied! Holy crap it’s funny. Nice work nickynik.

Vishal is my cook. I’ll post a photo of him when I take one (and post to the People of Bandra set).I don’t understand his language and he barely understands mine, but we manage to make it work. I have the same breakfast–omelette with chilis and onions, plain toast and black coffee–so as not to put put any strain on our relationship. We are, after all, just starting out.We communicate in a very “Vishal & David” way. We say a lot without really saying…a lot.[Phone rings thrice (I’m not sure if that’s really a word, but it sounds more playwrighty so I’m using it) and David picks up]Vishal: “Vishal.”David: “Hi, Vishal.”Vishal: “Morning?”David: “7.”Or translated from “Vishal & David” into plainfolk speak:Vishal: “Hello, David. It’s Vishal. I saw you come in last night. Getting home pretty late. Long day at the office?”David: “Hi Vishal. Bigwigs were in town today so we had a little shindig at the MIG Cricket Club in Bandra Kurla Complex.”Vishal: “So I was thinking about cruising by tomorrow and whipping you up a nice, buttery, fluffy omelette and maybe some toast–lightly browned, just the way you like it–and a pipin’ hot cup of joe to wash it all down. Heck, I’ll grab you a paper on my way up, too. I know how you like to keep abreast of the affairs of the day. What time should I come over?”David: “7.”Me and my now former driver, Murugan, and I have a very similar relationship. He mostly answers my questions with “okay, sir” even if I ask him if he’s “parked on SV Road or Linking Road?” In this case, “okay, sir” means “could you pass the phone to your colleague, Ajai, who speaks very good Hindi?”I miss Murugan. Another E*TRADE guy came to town and he has a family, so he got my Skoda…and Murugan.

It’s mighty embarrassing to see yourself on video, but since it’s a really special occassion, I’ll suck it up. You heard it here first

I just made the best decision of my life (displacing the previous best: moving to San Francisco) and asked Susie to marry me. She said yes. We’re getting married!

I’ve known for a long time that Susie is the perfect partner for all of life’s adventures. Our personalities, perspectives, dreams and quirks fit together like puzzle pieces. I figured her trip to India might offer a perfect moment to ask her to marry me, though I didn’t have any real plan on how it’d go down.

First, I needed a ring—nothing fancy, just something symbolic that looked like Susie—so if and when the opportunity arose I’d be prepared with some nuptial hardware. I asked my go-to gal in India, Vrinda, to take me to a good jeweler so I could find a Susie-looking silver ring. We scored one at a little shop in my neighborhood. I was giddy as a schoolgirl about it and looked at the ring about a thousand times before she arrived.

It was hard for me to contain my excitement once she arrived and I think I tried to convince myself that every locale and event provided the perfect moment I was after.

“Yes, the crowded airport at 4:00 am is perfect. It’s symbolic of our arrival at a new life together.”
“Breakfast is the perfect time! After all we’ve eaten a lot of eggs together. Nothing says ‘I’ll love you forever’ like eggs and instant coffee.”
“After she gets out of the shower will be perfect! It’ll be like we’re getting a fresh, clean-smelling start on the rest of our lives.”

You get the point. It was hard for me to wait.

Alas, I managed to hold out knowing that we’d be going to Matheran, a little hill station atop a mountain a few hours east of Bombay. The plan was to get away from the hustle and bustle of Bombay and spend some quiet time being in love, shopping for cute, native things and hiking around in the forest.

We hired a car and a fragrant driver to take us on our three-hour journey to Matheran. The drive was fun. We saw a lot of Bombay as we went east across the city and then saw lots of interesting rural scenes—like a couple on a motorbike with a couple of chickens flapping in the breeze.

Our driver scaled the narrow mountain road up to the entrance of Matheran while Susie locked the doors and clung to my leg. She was a little nervous about the winding and the narrowness and the height.

Matheran is a lovely place where no cars are allowed. Everyone gets dropped at the gate to the town and can make their way on foot, by hand cart or by horse. Immediately we were asked if we needed a porter or some horses to get us and our stuff to our hotel. We clung to our pride and decided that we weren’t some chubby Americans who needed to ride horses or have people carry our stuff a few kilometers to the hotel. Come on. We’re better (and more fit) than that. We ended up taking the very long route to our hotel and wishing, perhaps, that we hadn’t been so firm in our convictions.

We finally arrived at the Verandah in the Forest, a lovely, restored Victorian-era house tucked away in the forest just near Charlotte Lake. I got us a suite at the back of the property, because that’s how I roll (and because it was the only room left).

We toured the town with a local cable guy, met some interesting folks, ate good food, drank some whiskey, met some white people, had our photo taken a least a half a dozen times, and scored Susie a tailor-made traditional garb. (If any of you go for Indian food with her in San Francisco, I have a sneaking suspicion you might see her don it.)

On our final day we set off on a horseback ride on some rural trails to see the sights. Our guide was a former jockey named Hamilton and our steeds were Brownie (because he was browny) and Hank Panky (because I thought that’d be a funny name for him). We were a little apprehensive about riding horses because many of them looked scrawny and overworked and we didn’t feel comfortable contributing to that. Our innkeeper convinced us that Hamilton was on the level and his horses were up to the task, so we set off to see the sights on the backs of Brownie and Hank Panky.

Stop one was cool. Stop two was also cool. Cool enough in fact that we decided to shoot some footage of the valley below, which somehow turned in to me doing a little soft-shoeing at the edge of a cliff. Stop three was magical. It was a very quiet cliff that stretched out over a quaint-looking farm town in the valley below. We decided to have a sit for a while and nurse the powerful thirst we worked up bouncing around the trails.

We started chatting about the scene sprawled out before us, which transitioned into talking about how much fun we were having, which transitioned into us getting mushy and talking about love. Ah ha! Here was precisely the mushy the moment I was after. It went something like this:

David: “Susie, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Susie: “Me too.”
David: (Taking ring from pocket a little clumsily due to a clammy hand) “Will you marry me.”
Susie: “Really?”
David: “Yes, really.”
Susie: “Really?”
David: “Really. I swear. Will you marry me?”

The rest of the details are a bit of a blur, but I know there were some hugs, kisses, laughs and not a dry eye in the house. I think there were also a couple of birds wheezing as they flew by due to the smog from the valley below.

So that’s that. Susie and I got engaged in Matheran and we’re both totally giddy about it.

We’ve not yet selected a date or location, but are working on that as we speak. In fact, there is a spreadsheet in my inbox from Susie that I need to review and comment before close of business tomorrow. Seriously.

I’ve just posted a bunch of photos to my Flickr account. I’ve created one set called “People of Bandra” which will continue to grow. Bandra is the neighborhood I live in. I’m going to be regularly posting photos and stories of the people I meet here.

Mr. Vishnu Sudarsan traveled to Delhi from Mumbai on October 7, 2006 (that was a Saturday). He departed at 8:00 PM and arrived at 9:55 PM. He traveled on Jet Airways in economy class. Jet Airways thanked him for choosing them and wished him a pleasant journey.How do I know this about Mr. Vishnu Sudarsan? Because I just had two fresh, delicious samosas wrapped in his e-ticket. It may not be have been “a valid travel document” but it sure was a handy samosa wrapper.I, too, wish you a pleasant journey Mr. Vishnu Sudarsan wherever life may take you.

The comedic geniuses of Killing My Lobster have done it again. The comedy musical “Faces The Music” is back at the ODC Theater on Friday, January 5 to Sunday, January 21.

Audiences loved it (I saw it twice and laughed my face off both times). Critics loved it:

“Critics pick! Laugh-out-loud skits…Faces the Music–a purely musical extravaganza with singing, dancing, and a four-member live band–hits its marks…It’s funny stuff, and the songs are catchy, so go check it out.”
-Laura McCaul, SF Bay Guardian

“Gleefully entertaining…hilariously off-kilter. The show-stopping spiritual about the Mission burrito raises [the show] to true cult status.”
-Nathaniel Eaton, SF Weekly

Check it out. You’ll be glad you did.