12/24/09

Shopped, stocked, all ready
awaiting our white Christmas
oven fires stoked

Winter Solstice

Still tired at eight

dawn breaks dark; year's shortest day

I sip my cups slow

Happy Holidays!

Love Love Love, originally uploaded by DRheins.

To all my friends, family and loyal followers, thank you for taking the time to visit my blog.

Here's hoping that your 2010 is filled with health, and hearty laughter.

Happy Holidays!

Dave

Mexican Vacation, Part Two

We left the room, the phone still ringing, and made our way to the pool. Like the rest of the condo/resort, it was sparsely populated. A few families sat around the giant pool, which palm-lined snaked throughout the huge complex, past the Pirate Ship bar, anchored in the pool, but most of the activity taking place around us were small sales clusters – invariably a prospective couple or two led by a quick-paced sales chick, gesticulating loudly, waving her clipboard, and moving the herd deftly through the steps of their ‘free tour.’

We traded in our towel cards, and made our way to our chaise lounges. It didn’t take long for Tammy to make her decision. “Would you think I was crazy if I said ‘let’s check out of this place ... now?’ There is a World’s Leading Hotel Resorts that I found when I was doing my research down here, and I’d like to try to see if we could get in there.”

“I figured that we wouldn’t be staying here all week,” I replied. After five years, I knew enough to know the telltale Tammy’s patterns. If she didn’t like a table, or a room, or a resort, she’d do something about it. No matter if, as in this case, we’d already pre-paid the week’s stay through Priceline, and would probably not be able to recoup our money. Where once I had fought such impromptu changes, now I knew enough to know that she’d get her way in the end anyway, so I might as well acquiesce now and save us all the time and hassle. “No problem dear,” I said.

And fast as we could, we packed up the room and checked out of the Villa del Arco --itself not an easy process. Forget about Holiday Inn Express – here they did not want to let the sales prospect fish slip off the hook. “Why, may we ask, are you checking out after only one night?” they queried. And could they entice us to stay by offering a room upgrade? But they did not know the Tammy patterns like I did. We persisted, so after a few more phone calls to the manager, and after inviting us to write down on a piece a paper the reason we were leaving early (which we both did with great gusto, using both sides of the paper), the woman at the front desk gave us our exit pass, and we were allowed to proceed to the bell man.

We climbed aboard a taxi van, and zoomed down Mexico Highway 1. Thirty minutes later we arrived at the Hotel Marquis. The Marquis is a 5-star resort, with Zen sculpture gardens, eternity reflecting pools, and big beautiful oceanfront rooms with spa tubs and bath towels shaped like swans. It was a world away and apart from our first day.

Yes, this is the Mexican vacation that we were looking for. OK. So we are spending more than we had planned (but only by a little, as we were able to get a good deal here, and even with the pre-paid Priceline package thrown on top, it turned out to be not so bad.) But hey, and here is the lesson of this two-part tale: it was worth it. You only go round once in life, and you might as well do it in style. It pays to go first class.

Tammy is enjoying the accommodations. The concierge called her a doctor, who immediately made a house call to the resort and after an examination prescribed the right mix of drugs, which the hotel pharmacy had sent up to the room. Talk about service – the staff here has been amazing. At the recommendation of the spa manager, Tammy took advantage of healing eucalyptus spa treatments and specially concocted essential oils, and the result of all this is that she is finally on the mend.

So today as I write this, it is my 50th birthday. We celebrated the day by first sunning by the reflecting pool, and then strolling along the magnificent Mexican beach, watching and listening to the sea. It is truly a beautiful scene here. The place is great. The service is amazing. The drinks are strong and true. We are in paradise, and it feels like we have the entire place to ourselves.

While normally I do not smoke, I decide to buy a Cuban cigar to mark the occasion. Tonight, after a splendid meal of fine grilled fish, Tammy and I settle into our oceanfront balcony, listen to the waves of the Sea of Cortez crash against the shoreline and enjoy the smell of the fine smoke.

Mexican Vacation, Part I

Mexico has always been the destination of decadence
So it makes sense that there would be a drug dealer greeting you at the door.
And that is still the case.
Today, however, time-shares are the dealers drug of choice.

They pounce on you as soon as you arrive at the airport. Uniform-jacketed with official nametags “Where are you staying,” and the rap begins.

No matter your response they steer you to the “official agent” for your hotel “See it says it right here, senor” – all the while all we want to do is find the “pre-paid resort shuttle that will take us to our Priceline Mexican vacation.

At the desk we are told our shuttle has just left, but that they, as official agents of the resort will offer us free massage, free dinners, free activities, if only we’ll attend this free breakfast. “It’s a marketing thing, “ Eduardo tells us. “So that you’ll tell your friends about the resort and they’ll come too.”

And no matter what we say, “We’re just trying to get to the resort. We’ve been up since 4 am (true) and she is sick as a dog (also true), all we want to do is find the shuttle, get checked into our rooms, and find the bed” – no matter, Eduardo has a mission and that mission is to “give us all these great things, just sign here. “

In the end, we negotiated a deal: we’d give him $20 US and sign up for the free breakfast. With that we were allowed to pass the juggernaut, and then told to wait until the shuttle was ready. 20 minutes later (It’s now been nearly an hour after arriving ) the shuttle loads us up to our resort – Villa del Arco.

Upon arriving at Villa del Arco, and tipping the shuttle guy for the 50 minute trip, and our bags, we are seized upon by the next wave of Condo Salespeople. The next wave is a little more sophisticated. Hot Mexican Chicks in sleek skirts and tight blouses; they greet you with big smiles, all heels and clipboard. The “concierge” will be right with you. From then on in, our check-in journey is steered by Julia. She’s late-twenties, tanned, blonde and attractive in a kind of hard “I’ve been around the block a time or two”, Island Real Estate, sex sells sort-of-way.

She has fancier brochures than the guy at the airport, and a better manicure job, but essentially Julia’s deal is the same. But here it is referred to as “the gold card” Do you have your gold card membership? They are good for discounts all over the three resorts, and the shop. Everyone will ask you for your membership card.

Membership card is code word for timeshare. They want you to buy into the program. For this is not a resort at all. It is a giant sales pitch. We booked the trip at the last minute. See it is my fiftieth birthday, and Tammy turned 40 this past summer. This, we decided, would be a great combined celebration. All we want is a little Fun, Sun, just pure relaxation. But Tammy is sick as a dog, and salespeople surround us. Even at the local market, they ask us if we are ready for our breakfast. Two guys in suit pants and short sleeves, guys we’ve never seen, approach us with more clipboards and this time walkie talkies. They call to us by name. They know who we are. We are in the system, and they are going to keep track of us for the week. Oy. We tell the Mexican Mafia (as Tammy later names them) suited guys we’re not interested. They persist: “We’ll give you more free stuff.” No, No. “Really, what do you want…”

To be left alone. We make it to the shuttle and back to our rooms. Tammy and I have decided to make our way to the pool, and hope we’re not accosted along the way. In the meantime the phone rings; we decide not to answer it.

To be continued…

Wisdom of the Ages

Forties fading fast

five days till I turn fifty

milestone or millstone?

Iz Man and the Penguin

The Bellevue Mall was over-run with festive holiday characters last night. Giant drummer boys and toy soldiers, ice princess, and of course, Santa Claus. Here, the Iz Man poses with a friendly penguin.

Who's Taller?

Who's Taller?, originally uploaded by DRheins.

While Sister Cherie tends to the final touches of her Thanksgiving feast, Grandma Joy and Grandson Izzy stand head to head to see who is tallest. Izzy, who turns 13 in January surpasses Joy's 5 ft 2" for the first time!

Tonic Ball VIII

David Rheins and Tammy Williams, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Tammy and I had a great time at the Tonic Ball this weekend. Good bands, good friends, and all for a good cause.

I blogged about the experience on my new Indianapolis Social Media blog Indy Social. You can check it out here.

My Hand

deal me ideas

like random aces and eights

trump me with black cards

Shadow

Bob Dylan at IU Auditorium, originally uploaded by DRheins.

giant in shadow

thin man in the too white light

stop hot in the spot

Reflection

The face in the glass

stares at me with dimming light

who have I become?

Squirrel eating Pumpkin

Squirrel eating Pumpkin, originally uploaded by DRheins.

The Squirrel Wars at my house continue. All summer these furry rodents have been stealing my birdseed from the bird feeder, driving away the song birds and causing me no small amount of frustration.

Now that Fall has come, these pesky critters have decided to start eating our Halloween decorations.

This confident fellow came right up to the porch, and decided to go all in -- head first int the pumpkin!

Now where did I put that BB gun again?

Garden Gnome

Garden Gnome, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Outside my window

lives a painted man of stone

hat, binocs in hand

solace of salmon

salmon, seattle aquarium, originally uploaded by DRheins.

upward we swim, up

en mass toward the light and warmth

coho consciousness

Tuesday morning, October 6th

His head is spinning with the theory

Between each gig; all is lost.

A gaping hole of anxious self-pity

A drain where once a reservoir stood

His life is measured in monthly cycles

Of moon and Mr. J.P. Morgan

Where once he toiled to change the oceans

Now he moves to follow the flood

It rains with fury this dark Tuesday morning

He works alone in his cosmic man cave

Seattle glassworks mildly smolder in the tray

Francis Francis stays red, hot and brewing

Space Needle, Seattle

Space Needle, Seattle, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Life in a Water Glass

Orange octopus

lives inside the water glass

seaside Seattle

I write best at night

dark thoughts leak onto light screens

tight words from felt tip

Economy Class

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.........., originally uploaded by caribb.

Thirty thousand feet

in a flying tube of folks

on my way back home

Whale Watching Boat

Whale Watching Boat, originally uploaded by DRheins.

The good ship rested

Port Townsend awaiting calm

P.S. Express, not

Banana Slug

Banana Slug, originally uploaded by DRheins.

each finger glides low

over the banana slug

Izzy in the woods

Near Neah Bay

Rude Ladder Neah Bay, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Rude hewn branch ladder

climbing up the ancient tree

stairway to heaven

Kansas City

Red hawks in the sky

circle first national bank

chickens home to roost

Birds and Bees

Birds and Bees Street Art, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Swarmed by hot suitors

I spy my lily lover

queen of the corner

Iridium Without Him

the old guitarist

gone the way the old music

whispers on the wind

Love Covered Sin

Lover Covered Sin, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Under overpass

" Love Covered Sin"; one wags tag

muse for the long walk

The Big Idea

The Big Idea, originally uploaded by DRheins.

out of the gray wall

a dark clouded idea

colors the bright day

Blurr

Stickers, Locals Only Nightclub, originally uploaded by DRheins.

the night was a blur

hot and fast, full of music

low lights and high times

TwitMom

a friend twittered me

i m close to my bb

blackberry? baby?

Elvis' Garage

Detail, BenWah's Garage, originally uploaded by DRheins.

the Cadillacs left

shortly after the king died

his image endures

The Royal Treatment

I’ve watched over the past week with great interest as the media madness surrounding the unexpected death of Michael Jackson has spiraled from frenzied to crazed to completely over the top.

Like a true Royal, the pop star’s passing has been treated with unprecedented fanfare, complete with non-stop media insanity culminating in a televised "official state funeral." Janet, Tito, LaToya, Jermaine and the rest of the Royal Jackson Family were to be seen simply everywhere. “He was the best father ever,” cried Paris.

Every cable channel, every magazine cover, every conversation touted the influence and importance of the “King of Pop.” But somehow the chorus rang false to me.

The more I watched, the more I realized that a cultural war is taking place. In the multi-culti PC world of President Obama’s America, Michael Jackson has become the new Elvis. The King is Dead, Long Live the King.

Like Elvis, Michael represented the pinnacle of crass, ostentatious materialism; both poster boys for overindulgence, embodying a lifestyle of excessive, over-the-top consumption. MJ like Elvis sold his soul in a Faustian bargain with the demons of commercialism.

Once innocent, exuding a purity of raw talent, both men died too early, full of drugs and deeply depressed. Having achieved the American Dream of fame and fortune – sex and stardom – the Kings quickly found themselves grotesque caricatures – Elvis ridiculous in his outlandish capes and massive wrestler belts; Michael, suspect with his sequined gloves, scarves, masks and Mickey Mouse persona (Rolling Stone once aptly put him on its cover as an animated Mickey).

There is a certain poetic symmetry to the whole “Next King Thing. “ Let’s face it; Elvis, and the other products of Sam Phillips’ Sun Records – Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash and Carl Perkins – were created as a way for the label to translate and package the essence of black “Race Music” for white audiences.

“Give me a white boy who can sing like a N__,“ the wily Phillips was reported to have said, “and I’ll sell a million records.” They did and he did. As Muddy Waters once sang, “The Blues had a baby, and they called the baby Rock and Roll.”

For years artists like Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley, and Little Richard complained loudly about being ripped off by white artists and the white labels. Their sounds, their styles and many times their songs were “covered” and made popular by white artists, who made the big paychecks and enjoyed great fame. This became standard operating practice.

In large part, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is the music industry’s attempt to redeem itself for its exploitative ways.

Now in the sixties, all this began to change. Barry Gordy’s Motown (the first black-owned label) was largely responsible for enabling black artists to ‘crossover’ into the mainstream pop market. From 1961 to 1971, Motown had 110 top 10 hits, and artists such as Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, The Supremes, The Four Tops, and The Jackson 5 dominated the airwaves and defined a new pop culture reality. Music, like the rest of society, was becoming integrated.

Young Michael Jackson was the very representation of this bright new future. America, and indeed the world, watched the little star evolve from a bubble gum sensation (battling it out in the late sixties with the Donny Osmond, David Cassidy and Bobby Sherman for teenie bopper dominance), into a real pop superstar. Where Chuck Berry and Little Richard were frustrated, Michael Jackson broke through to major superstardom.

Michael went solo in 1971, and had a series of huge albums. 1982’s Thriller remains the best-selling album of all time. In addition to catchy, sappy pop songs, MJ became famous for his dancing. His moonwalk defined a generation. He was a pioneer in creating the music video genre, and became the first African-American star of MTV. He got so rich and famous he outbid Paul McCartney for ownership in the Beatles song catalog!

Elvis was -- and still remains -- an icon of the redneck, good ol’ boy America. Even today, some 30 years after his tragic passing, one need go no further than the nearest truck stop, gas station DVD stand, fair grounds, or Wal*Mart to see that Elvis is STILL the King for White Trash America. Velvet Elvis is alive and well, and for sale on a roadside near you.

But Elvis’ America is quickly passing. It has been a long time since Elvis left the building. We now live in a multicultural America. Rap Music is Pop Music – for white kids, black kids, Hispanic kids. Demographers tell us that whites will be the minority race in this country within 25 years, with Hispanics the fastest growing segment.

It seems to me that what we’ve witnessed with this past week’s non-stop media madness has less to do with celebrating this flawed pedophile (talented and famous as he may have been) and more to do with acknowledging a milestone: the cultural and generational passing of the torch.

Like the election of Barack Obama as the country’s first Black President, the crowning of Michael Jackson in his death as the new Elvis is emblematic of the end of one chapter in American history, and the beginning of another.

RIP

Elvis Lives Indiana

Detail, BenWah's Garage, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Corn country garage

Elvis lives Indiana

smoking room only

New Day

dawn after party

quiet creeping hungover

each bird sings his tale

Happy Independence Day

Antique Firetruck at Fouth of July Parade, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Nothing I like more than celebrating independence.

We had a blast at the Carmel, Indiana 4th of July parade, where marching bands shared the streets with classic Corvettes, antique firetrucks and all things red white and blue.

Street Art, Broad Ripple Village

Street Art, Broad Ripple Village, originally uploaded by DRheins.


I pause to admire

street art in the alley way

Broad Ripple is hip!

18 Wheel Haiku

eighteen wheeler loads

my life in cardboard boxes

taped shut, marked fragile

Pigeon roosting on the dock, Jersey City

Pigeon roosting on the dock, Jersey City, originally uploaded by DRheins.

fat she sat on roost

nesting next to the river

bird of big city

Tuesday Morning Haiku

Island of Manhattan, originally uploaded by DRheins.

sun gets up early

birds and trains tweet rise and shine

fresh morning; new day

Times Square from BMG building

Times Square from BMG building, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Times Square midday, taken from the BMG building with an iPhone.

I took this shot during a meeting I was having at BET Networks. The view from their conference room was so amazing, I just had to phone capture it.

Talk about branded engagements!

Here's a fun game:
How many brand messages can you identify?

Serendipity on a Jersey Street Sign

Saturday morning

eating albaricoque

we find you bull dog

Balcony in the fog

Balcony in the fog, originally uploaded by DRheins.

The fog has lifted

left a sticky humid haze

head damp cold with sweat

Haculla, Street Art Soho

Street Art, Soho, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Haculla your name

not the man with the bat wing

scary none the less

***

For more Haculla, please check out the Haculla Flickr Cluster here

No Parking Active Driveway

No Parking Active Driveway, originally uploaded by DRheins.

long after the crews

have loaded, roaded back home

the sign still stands guard

The Memory Pill: USB Drive Cures Memory Headaches

Trouble with your memory? Take this pill and call us in the morning. The USB Pill, looks like a headache tablet, but functions like a 64MB drive. Now that's something to buzz home about.

Heaps of Money Free on the Web

Money!, originally uploaded by Tracy O.

...at least pictures of heaps of money are available free on the web.

currency, the new porn.

Wanted Poster, Soho

Wanted Poster, Soho, originally uploaded by DRheins.

At last they want you

your face posted with reward

next to graffiti

Shoe Fetish

Shoe Fetish, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Rows of toe to toe

hard tips each heel shiny high

perched perfect like art

Don't Feed The Rats

Don't Feed The Rats, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Only in New York. Thinking about tossing your lunch into the park? Fugetaboutit.

This sign in lower Manhattan tells the tale: Don't Feed The Rats! At least not the ones outside of the financial district.

Pitschen: No Peddlers

No Peddlers, Street Art, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Stencil street art as captured by iPhone.
Soho, New York City.

Paste up Art

Paste up Art, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Back from Indianapolis, I return to find new art on Greene Street.

AJ Foyt Indy Car

AJ Foyt Indy Car, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Just back from Memorial Day weekend in Indianapolis. This is the biggest weekend of the year, as Circle City residents gear up for the annual running of the Indianapolis 500.

In the lobby of our hotel, banners scream "Welcome Race Fans" and we are even treated with an up close look at one of AJ Foyt's #14 Indy Cars.

Graffiti on Purple Wall

Graffiti on Purple Wall, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Graffiti on purple wall, by recycle bins. Lower East Side, NYC.

New York Dance Parade 2009

New York Dance Parade 2009, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Barefoot Boogie dancers, marching in shoes, at the New York Dance Parade 2009, held yesterday in New York City's Lower East Side.

Soldiers Graffiti Art , West Village, NYC

Soldiers Graffiti Art , West Village, NYC, originally uploaded by DRheins.

out in force more cops

at the new world trade center

guns at every stop

Street Art, New York City

Street Art, New York City, originally uploaded by DRheins.

The streets of New York City are rich with art -- from retail installations, like this mural on a West Village cafe, to the more ephemeral paste-ups, stickers and graffiti works. If music sets the tempo, art makes the world go 'round.

Framed Graffiti, West Village, NYC

Framed Graffiti, West Village, NYC, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Graffiti as art, well now that's a pretty old debate. Clearly there are many who take their street art and paste ups seriously. Here, in the heart of the West Village, graffiti is showcased in grand style, at witnessed here: nicely framed tags, where once band posters and night club adverts lived.

sign of the times.

No Dogs Allowed Sign (with no humans sticker)

No Dogs Allowed Sign, originally uploaded by DRheins.

The state says no dogs

leave man's best friend tied outside

PETA says ban man

3 Haikus for Thursday

I am what I do

she shuffles low, reflective

each dawn breaks renewed

***

without doubt she stood

solid and stout on twin trees

arms wide, full of shade

***

tulip like her lips

fresh with dips of hue; we kissed

sent shivers thru me

Peace Rock, Bolinas, California

Peace Rock, Bolinas, California, originally uploaded by DRheins.

pack it in and out

take only what you must have

leave things undisturbed

The Zippers of Zoomerville -- Live on YouTube

Santa Fe Railyard

Railroad Car with Graffiti, originally uploaded by DRheins.

thick gravel keeps time

footfalls stumble, kick old rails

vandals tell the tale

Thursday Tweets

number one one one

counting friends is so much fun

add me, tweet, please

Soul and Soles

one more day of rain

my mood wears like wet leather

holes in soul and soles

Smooth & Fresh

the noise of the night

quiet now as I turn, see

you there smooth and fresh

Lou Reed's Eyes Soho

Lou Reed's Eyes Soho, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Never Lie Down

stand up and be cuffed

free speech isn't free enough

can't never lie down

May 2 Haiku

raining cold and slow

Saturday morning coffee

jazz, canvas and smoke

Haiku for May Day

Wrap around the pole

pagan rite of spring and love

dance with me, May Day!

Roaches Street Art, Soho

Roaches Street Art, Soho, originally uploaded by DRheins.

watching from the wall

legged creatures in segments

makes me all buggy

Twitter Ditty

one hundred people

are following my Twitter

quite a groove, ain't it

This is Art

This is Art, originally uploaded by DRheins.

The tag says it all: This is Art!

Daily Checklist

first thing Monday morn

make a list of things to do

checklist rules my life

Nightly Routine

last tweet before sleep

check the blog and flickr stats

who needs to count sheep

Park Day

too nice for inside

sneakers shorts and on our way

eighty-eight today

Graffiti in Soho

Graffiti in Soho, originally uploaded by DRheins.

Can you read the writing on the wall? Is this code or chaos? Art or vandalism? You be the judge.