Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Hot Box Halloween

From the moment I first saw Wes Anderson's Fantastic Mr. Fox, I began seeding the idea of my son being the character Ash as "White Cape" for Halloween. The Kyality Kid agreed, but only if he could have the bandit hat "with the stars, not the one made out of a sock." Duh. Click here to enlarge.

I mentioned this to his crafty auntie at Team Boo over the summer and she actually did the dirty work for us and made an amazing bandit hat that was delivered as a sweet b-day present last month. So enjoy the ultimate Fantastic Mr. Fox Halloween costume!

Remember, it's the pull back that matters.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Meaner Beamer

Let's just get this straight. A BMW automobile is called a 'Bimmer' (pronounced BEE-mer) for short. However, a BMW motorcycle is called a 'Beamer' (also pronounced BEE-mer) due to the single beam of light from its headlamp. At least that's what my padre Normality taught me. And this is easily one of the meaner Beamers that I've ever come across.

This 1963 BMW R60/2 is a knobby, murdered-out monster machine that feels totally old-school and post-apocalyptic-futuristic all at the same time. Enjoy.

(via TheCoolist)

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Window's Vista

I've had a longtime love/hate relationship with Dwell Magazine. I canceled it last year, but someone recently gifted me a subscription. I typically thumb quickly through the unrealistic and unattainable, but in their 10 Year Anniversary Issue I spotted a dwelling that can only be described as Mid-century Modest.

The curbside view on this flat-roofed gem is understated to say the least. Overgrown and weatherworn, the front fa├žade simply says 'simple'. Which I love. While the tan 1970's Bavaria silently screams 'taste'. Which I love even more.

The interior on the other hand, though still simple and tasteful, is an exercise in where and when to indulge. They opted to cover the inside in basic 70's-looking clay tiles—the exact same tan as the Bimmer mind you—which is striking (but it's not like they went with marble). Yet every interior item points toward the place where they actually dropped some dough—the back wall or the lack thereof.

The owners eliminated the back wall of the humble home entirely and opted for an opulent 26-foot-long, 18-foot-high sliding glass door that opens the entire interior to a unique view of LA. There's no TV in the house, the view is their flat screen and a beautiful vintage record-player is their soundtrack. Thanks Dwell, for inspiring us with this one. See a full slideshow here.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Arcade Fire vs. James

Within the past two weeks, I've been fortunate enough to hit two of the best shows I've ever seen—both quite different from one another. A week and half ago, thanks to @Upto12, I was able to see Calexico and Arcade Fire at the Rose Quarter in Portland. If you haven't heard much about this tour yet, our friends from up north have basically been lighting up and burning down nearly-filled colosseums across the nation—and this night was no exception.

Though it started out with a couple of very "good" tracks from their newest album The Suburbs—it wasn't 'til opening strums of the fourth song Haiti that they fully came alive. Their energy-level, passion and riotous rocking only increased from that point on. Seeing them live (again) only validated Upto12's point from a recent discussion.

Though I absolutely love both The Suburbs and Neon Bible—it's the tracks from Funeral that send me (and everyone else in the venue) straight into rock concert bliss. It's not that they're necessarily better tunes—they simply perform them in a way that is undeniably exuberant. The proof's here.

Five days later Mrs. Kyality and I caught the James sound check and show at a ridiculous new venue here in SLC. Despite the drab, cinder-block box that is The Complex, the classic Brit-Poppers—visually stunned by the SLC fandom—put on an amazingly energetic and spontaneous show. A minor equipment failure led to an impromptu unplugged session and later a guitar solo was forfeited for a fantastic feedback fight with a fiddle. It's these kind of nuances that make a little concert in a crap venue end up as one of the best yet.