theology&geometry

He gets some awesome lift there at the last second but unfortunately it’s on the wrong end.

Psych! I totally didn’t.

True, Memphis is notorious for bad/oblivious drivers. But there is nothing quite as sublime some days as a drive around the city on a warm Sunday afternoon beneath a wide blue sky. So I made a little love note.

2 Minute Movie: Driving in Memphis from Lindsey Turner on Vimeo.

And yes I stayed between the lines.

Crossposted at my work blog.

Dear Package-Delivery Workers of America from Lindsey Turner on Vimeo.

Yes, I figured out to use the back door the architect of this house thoughtfully installed for sticky situations such as these. But still. Funny.

The Girl Talk show was amazing. It completely made up for 2009′s Chicago Evening of Drunken Tears and Loneliness to a Backdrop of Dance Mashups, which was an amazing show that I just could not get my head into for various reasons. The Minglewood show was even sweeter because of the size of the venue; it wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as the Congress Theater. I danced and danced and danced and, aside from one dude who cut in line at the bar and nearly got his ass stomped when he sassed my Jersey-bred, ready-to-fight boyfriend, everyone was so cool and happy and nice and into it. It’s not often that I can go to a show in this town and dance like a fool without being self-conscious. So I relish the chance.

Now here’s some video. Spoiler alert! It includes NSFW language regarding the lack of giving a fuck.

Girl Talk at Minglewood Hall from Lindsey Turner on Vimeo.

I don’t remember how I heard about them but I was in high school, trying to scavenge for what bits of cool I could (I wore Walmart knockoffs of Airwalks until I could weasel my way into a real pair) when I heard about the Toadies. One day I found myself with my grandmother at the Old Hickory Mall in Jackson, in Camelot Music (which is now FYE, I think), with Rubberneck in hand, heading for the checkout counter. My grandmother looked at the album and the song names and asked me what kind of music that was.

I came from a household where Hells Bells was required viewing and Depeche Mode’s Violator had been summarily removed from my sister’s tape deck and destroyed because it contained a song called “Personal Jesus.” And Aerosmith, despite my dad having loooved that band as a teenager/young adult, was frowned upon in all its iterations.

So I told Grandmaw, while skimming the band thank-yous in the liner notes and pointing out that they had given thanks to a pastor, “They’re some kind of Christian band, see?”

Here it is, more than 12 years later, and I still love this album like the first day I heard it. I find it impossible to listen to Rubberneck‘s songs without thrashing about a bit. Visual aid:

So help me Jeeeeesus from Lindsey Turner on Vimeo.

Jackin’ Around from Lindsey Turner on Vimeo.

And my mind.

Do Ray Me sans voice from Lindsey Turner on Vimeo.

I spotted a chipmunk in my yard last week. A lone adorable chipmunk. I named him Hans. I don’t care what his parents call him.

Today I peeked out the bathroom window to scowl at the bird fights and noticed Hans in a pot of pansies, head down in the dirt, munching on something. Naturally, because I act like I am on safari all the damn time, I had to film him to prove he’s real. Of course, when I came back with my phone, he’d left the pot and was standing, frozen, on the lawn. Check him out:

VIDEO QUALITY BITCHFEST: I realize that you can probably barely make out Hans in the sixteen or so total pixels below. Once Vimeo deigns to process my video, I’ll replace this horrible YouTube version. Compression shomshpression. Fixed!

Attila the Hans from Lindsey Turner on Vimeo.