Arrested Development

A recent Arrested Development marathon around these parts has left a surprising impression on me. Murray wrapped watching the whole series last week, yet I am still thinking about it. Pure comedy, unbridled idiocy, total genius.

I know Michael Cera has had a major resurgence for his recent role in Scott Pilgrim (Side note: Check out this photoshop competition – scroll down to the comments for maximum laffs. I love that shit. And, also, he was born and raised in Canada, so all Canadians everywhere will forever claim him as one of “Ours.” *sigh*

But I will mainly remember Mr. Cera for this:

As it was intended, I’m sure. Anyway, the whole point of this post was because my new love for Arrested Development reminded me of this time backstage at the Siren Festival in Coney Island. I don’t think it was the year we were playing, but we were hanging out with soms palz, including Stacey M. when we also saw David Cross, who very graciously joined us for this:

At the time we were in love with him for his brilliant comedy tape, Shut Up You Fucking Baby, which we listened to dozens of times on tour. Thanks to Rob Benvie for sharing that joint with us, for we still, to this day refer to “The Gator and The Lunatic” in most of our music industry-related conversations.

Thank you, everybody, for the jokes. That is all.

Day Off in Philadelphia, PA

It has been raining every day since we left on this tour. Except in Albany. It was sunny there. Today is a day off (grey, but not really rainy), which we decided to spend in Philadelphia, PA because Washington, DC was sold out of hotels. Philadelphia is a great city: it is really big, I am learning, and has lots of little parts that each feel like their own little town. Murray, Laura and I walked through the Italian Market and we got all kinds of great food to make dinner. Murray says he’s gonna make little homemade pizzas tonight on the bus but I will believe that when I see it. We walked back to the hotel, went swimming for a really long time and now I’m chilling out on the bus.

The jokes that float around on a tour are usually really lame and insular. Currently the funniest are:

“Bobby Fisher. Where is he? I don’t know! I don’t know!”

Murray selected as 30th sexiest rock frontman in history on

Summer Heights High.

And the endless musical comedy of Jason and Chris, that usually involves changing keys, modulating chords and vocal melodies, on-purpose rhythmic mistakes and easy-listening instrumental classical-jazz versions of songs (including 22) that make me feel like I’m on hold with the bank.

Now looking for someplace to eat.