Amoeblog

The Wisdom of Teeth: Part I

teeth xray
Yours truly, smiling as big as possible.
(Note the janky wisdom tooth on the bottom right!)

It’s kinda Christmas Eve-y to me today. Why? Because tomorrow I get to go to the oral surgeon and have all four of my wisdom teeth pulled out!

Granted, most people don’t get excited by this prospect, but tomorrow will see me living out a life-long dream of mine: to be put under general anesthesia.

Ever since I was a kid, I thought it was so cool and mysterious that one could be knocked completely unconscious, and longed for the experience. Sadly, and to my continual chagrin, I have lived my life with no real medical emergencies whatsoever. I got my first cavity this year, I’ve never broken a bone – nothing. I did once get appendicitis, but – and to the astonishment of my physician – I somehow “got better” before I got a chance to be cut open.

(I did once cut into my thigh with a chainsaw, but I just put a bandage on it and popped some dog tranquilizers my brother-in-law had on hand.)

impacted tooth

So, while I am a little nervous about spending the money to have this procedure done, the actual operation itself is pretty thrilling. Just think – tomorrow, at a little after ten o’clock, my consciousness will be disappeared, and then, about an hour later, I will return, like Lazarus from the grave; a grave with cheap wallpaper, fluorescent lighting and awful smooth jazz piped in, but a resurrection nonetheless!

Posted by Job O Brother on July 19, 2009 at 06:24pm | Comments (4)

(In which an angel visits Amoeba Music Hollywood.)

jimmy scott
Little Jimmy looking big

Uh, did I mention that, a couple weeks ago, Little Jimmy Scott came into the jazz room at Amoeba Music Hollywood? I used up a whole box of tissue, my mind was so blown – and I’m not easily star-struck. Most of the people I’d like to meet are dead (a quality I admire in a person). Never have I been as giddy and star-struck as I was at meeting Jimmy Scott. I cried. I actually cried! Like I was a seventeen-year-old girl at a Beatles concert in ’64. Okay, I didn’t grab the sides of my face and scream – not externally, anyway.

jazz singer

He was sweet like an angel descending on the city for a day to offer a glimpse of light unsoiled by our planet’s spiritual smog. His voice was unmistakable, his smile generous, and he patiently listened to all our gushing with the grace you’d expect from your favorite Kindergarten teacher. The fact that he was wheelchair-bound only enhanced the sense that he was visiting royalty, forever receiving people at his throne.

Poor health has made his already diminutive body more frail, and the stiffness in his hands made for an other-worldly contrast to his skin, which was soft and warm like a newborn infant.

He was flanked by a small film crew from Germany who were shooting a documentary on the making of his next album which, they reported, would be of the blues genre. They were excited that, in the employees of Amoeba, they finally found some young people who not only knew who Jimmy Scott was, but were fans. One of them bullied my fellow co-worker, Lucas, and I into being interviewed for their documentary, despite my emphatic explanation that I was too shy for interviews and anyway, English was my sixteenth language. (I acquiesced after they called my bluff and offered to allow me to answer questions in my native Ket.)

Posted by Job O Brother on July 13, 2009 at 02:33pm | Comments (1)

(Before which the author's mother visits.)

Geraldine Galland
That's my Ma, milking the cow. (The cow is the one with horns.)

This past week my dear, sweet Ma came for a visit. Her time here flew by quickly; we entertained ourselves with long walks, stories from her youth, and cooking-related reality TV. I also introduced her to one of my best friends in the whole world: absinthe.

She has a new iPhone, but her fear of technology had limited her use of it to – get this – making phone calls! I mean, what’s the point of a phone if all you do with it is call people? That’s so 1990’s! So I introduced her to all the things her new phone could do: map out directions, take photos, slay red dragons, make chocolate sprinkles, cure melanoma and make other kinds of chocolate sprinkles. She was quick to learn and I expect she will soon be filling my email inbox with pictures of my nephews, her tomato plants, and chocolate sprinkles.

In honor of her visit, I have assembled the following short list of things she loves, in hopes that you, too, may find some joy in them. If you’re not interested, don’t worry – she’s very easy-going and non-judgmental, and won’t take offense. I, however, will hunt you down like a dog and slay you. With my iPhone.

Posted by Job O Brother on July 6, 2009 at 02:58pm | Comments (1)

Li'l Bit #8

This clip was forwarded to me from my sweet Mammy, who in turn received it from one of her friends, saying it was a "video that feels really good to watch."

Perhaps I'm a cynical ol' coot, but I thought this was one of the most horrifying things I had ever seen in my life. Like, it made me feel the way directors of zombie films want me to feel, but never quite achieve. I can promise you, if this ever happens to me in any train station (or, indeed, any place of public transport) I will have a profound and thorough heart attack.

Posted by Job O Brother on June 24, 2009 at 10:13am | Comments (1)

(어떤 점에서 우리는 새우와 꿈을 읽어 보시기 바랍니다.)

seafood
This should be enough to get me season 2 of Lost on Blu-Ray...

The first thing my boyfriend told me upon awakening this morning was this:

“I dreamed that… there was an Amoeba that sold shrimp. Like, instead of a music store, it was a place where you could go and sell your used shrimp and… they’d re-sell it to places like Iraq. Saddam was actually buying the shrimp, so I guess he was still alive. I got good money for it, too. Like, $112.40.”

Okay – there’s a lot to love about this dream, and needless to say I started my day with laughter, but I think my favorite element is not that Saddam was alive again and personally brokering shellfish trade with my favorite record store, or even that the concept of “used shrimp” is so utterly disgusting as to be hilarious, but the fact that, in his dream, my boyfriend received and remembered such a distinct trade quote: $112.40. Not bad for a bag of second-hand, decapod crustaceans, no?

This was just after we’d been woken by our iHome. For our alarm, I have a playlist filled with classical music pieces specifically selected as the least traumatic way to start the day. One of the best is this little gem…


If I had to name my top five favorite composers of all time, Claude Debussy would be one of them. If you thought the above piece was lovely, I cannot recommend his other chamber works enough. I mean, I love everything he wrote – but his chamber pieces are what really kill me dead. Come on in to Amoeba Music Hollywood sometime and I’ll hook you up. Your life will be so much the dreamier for it.

Posted by Job O Brother on June 23, 2009 at 11:06am | Post a Comment
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