I have to preface this review with a brief explanation of Pigeon Whistles. An aeolian instrument, the pigeon whistle is typically carved from lightweight gourds and reeds. For the instrument to sound, it must be attached to a pigeon, which is then released into a circular flight pattern. When several whistles of varying pitches are attached to flocks of trained pigeons, the sound is eerily ethereal, varying in intensity as the birds change speed, altitude, and direction. Whistles may have anywhere from a single pipe up to 35 individual pipes. The practice of releasing whistle-bearing pigeons dates back at least 200 years. So far, I have only experienced the resulting music through recorded audio and video, but I hope someday to hear the real thing.

Wang Shixiang is a scholar of Chinese art and culture. Renowned for his studies of ancient Chinese furniture and lacquerware, he has a personal preference for so-called slighted art forms, and a self-proclaimed “addiction” to the pigeon sport. The original manuscript of this book was written in Chinese in the late 1980s and translated to English soon after. My hardcover copy includes both versions, and an updated section of full color plates depicting the various types of whistles.

Although this is admittedly one of those books I purchased simply because of my interest in an obscure topic, it is very nicely put together, and a brief but comprehensive study of the artifacts as well as the more well known artisans who created them. As far as I know, it is the only publication on Pigeon Whistles available to date, and contains quite a bit of information on the author’s extensive collections.

The volume doesn’t promise it so it is probably unfair to say, but I wish it had more information on the “why” and the “how” of this dying art form. Being an experimental musician who raises pigeons, I’d love to be able to train a small flock to bear whistles. Guess I will have to keep looking for that “Pigeon Whistle DIY” manual, but in the mean time Mr. Shixiang’s book is a good primer.

Kiefer Sutherland stars as eccentric teenaged Brooks in this quirky Canadian romance, circa 1987. The youngest of two brothers in a wealthy but unhappy family, Brooks is a loner with a penchant for bowties and big band music who drives around town on a motorcycle with a mannequin in the sidecar. Older brother Cleveland is his polar opposite. Cleve also has a fondness for cocaine, which he keeps in Brooks’s bedroom. The two boys compete for their aloof Father’s attention, but are bound by a profound sense of loss over their Mother’s unexplained disappearance.

When Brooks finally meets face to face with Anne, the girl he’s been admiring from afar, he realizes that she is deaf and lives in a non-hearing community. They begin to fall in love despite living in separate worlds. We can’t help being drawn in as they transform each other, blatantly ignoring polite society’s disapproval.

The Dominoes tumble when Dad discovers the drugs in Brooks’s room, tipped off by an angry Cleveland. Brooks has already been sent for psychiatric evaluation because of his oddball behavior but the drugs spark the impending threat of institutionalization, and a promise that “things will change around here” for Brooks, regarding his refusal to keep up appearances.

Although many of the “quirky romance” films made in the 80s (Mannequin, Splash!, Electric Dreams) suffered from ridiculous scenarios and over-the-top characters, this one is careful not to overstep the boundaries on too many levels. The characters and conflicts are just far enough off kilter to suspend our disbelief and allow us to sympathize. Like Bud Cort’s Harold (Harold & Maude), Jake Gyllenhaal’s Donnie Darko, and the lesser known Ryan Gosling in Lars and the Real Girl, any of us who have ever felt ostracized can identify with Kiefer’s misunderstood Brooks. We don’t want him to be forced to fit in because his existence somehow makes the world a better place.

Adding to the charm of this film is the almost exclusively 30s soundtrack. Except for a few scenes with a stereotypically awful 80’s band, all of the music was recorded before 1945. While a modern soundtrack would have anchored this film the 80s, the big bands and crooners make it timelessly enchanting. Crazy Moon is a rare gem that holds up to repeated viewing.

This 1975 film is not a Russ Meyer creation, but it could easily be mistaken for one at first glance. Enter the “Dagger Debs” — the ladies’ auxiliary of teenage gang the Silver Daggers. Led by baby faced, squeaky voiced Lace, these girls are bad news who know the ins and outs of the juvenile system. In the opening scene, the girls pay a visit to the repo man who’s just been at Lace’s house. After being roughed up, he’s afraid to press charges, knowing the girls will be back for more when they’re released in a few days. The Debs continue their rampage throughout the film, showing T&A as often as the ratings board will allow.

While the age of the girls is a clever plot device that keeps them on the streets wreaking havoc, I couldn’t help being disturbed by the way some adult situations were handled. For example, when newcomer Maggie delivers a message from imprisoned Lace to her boyfriend Dominic, he follows Maggie home afterward and forces his way into her house. Frightening off her single mom, who steps out from “paying the rent” with the landlord in her boudoir to intervene, Dom then forces his way into Maggie’s room and takes advantage of her. Instead of being traumatized by the encounter, Maggie takes up with Dom behind Lace’s back, as if it had been a mutual romp.

Also, once it’s revealed that head Deb Lace is carrying Dom’s baby, he makes it clear he’s not going to take responsibility. The issue is conveniently resolved in a miscarriage and Dom’s demise, and life goes on for everyone else.

The careless treatment of serious issues like these takes Switchblade Sisters just far enough out of the camp realm to put it in the waters of exploitation. And given the characters are supposedly just kids — teeters it on the edge of total perversion. (Don’t even get me started on the Deb gang’s African American counterparts who show up toward the end of the film…)

I wanted to enjoy it for the campiness but couldn’t forgive this film for crossing the line. Chalking it up to “Only in the 70’s” doesn’t really justify anything.

Pigeons: The Fascinating Saga of the World’s Most Revered and Reviled Bird

I first noticed this book on the stands at a chain bookstore during holiday shopping season. Something about the absurdity of the unlovely bird in the photo and the simple audacity of the title sitting amongst all of the holiday schmaltz drew me in. Most reviled bird? Makes sense. After all, pigeons are often referred to as “rats with wings.” But who would hold reverent the lowly pigeon? And why? I vaguely recalled stories of pigeons serving in the military…carrying messages or something. But does the pigeon merit an entire novel being written about it? The premise worked on my curiosity until I had to find out for myself.

Blechman’s book is chock full of fascinating facts. For instance, did you know that a pigeon delivered the results of the first Olympic games in 776 B.C.? Or that homing pigeons can find their way back to their lofts from up to 800 miles away – often flying at speeds of over 60MPH nonstop? (Scientists still don’t know how they do it, and not for lack of effort either.) Are you aware that pigeons mate for life – both male and female parents producing “crop milk” with which they feed their young? Have you heard that there are over one hundred documented breeds of show and race pigeons kept by fanciers worldwide – for hundreds of years even?

Not only are the facts fascinating, but the people Blechman interviews during his curious saga are equally eye opening. Though a many-times-thwarted effort to meet with Mike Tyson to talk about his famous racing flocks takes center stage, the other characters Blechman meets are no less intriguing. From “Dr. Pigeon” to the Urban Wildlife Society and 911 Pigeon Alert to the underground “sportsmen” who gather in secret to use captured pigeons for questionably legal live target practice, each story is unique and drives home the ultimate point here…that yes, the lowly pigeon does deserve a second look, and even a novel written about its largely unrecognized history as one of Mankind’s most faithful servants.

Overall, a swift and enjoyable read full of unbelievable moments. I guarantee you won’t be able to look at a pigeon the same way again once you’ve read it.

One of the things I loved about my old cellphone was the fact that I could use it to check e-mail and also to take pictures and post them to the web. But the camera’s poor image quality and the text-only WAP browsing experience left a lot to be desired so I decided it was time to look into upgrading. After poking around doing feature comparisons for awhile, I was having trouble deciding between a few different models. Trouble was – my old phone is also quite stylish and I couldn’t seem to find the equivalent elegance in a full-featured phone. And then I saw that Motorola had suddenly caught on and released a PINK version of the RAZR V3. Brilliant! I wont bore you with the whole list of features, but I will say that the RAZR V3 is pretty amazing. The camera quality is much better than my old Sony Ericsson t610. The internal camera even has a 4x digital zoom, and it also takes videos. Stored photos can be arranged in slideshow-like albums, which is a nice feature. The onboard graphics are much fancier, and the browser supports some web graphic elements too, which is helpful. Plus it supports a lot of games and ringtones that my old handset wouldn’t handle. (Ms. PacMan, anyone??) The tradeoff for all of the fancy graphics is a slower browsing experience. And the iTAP predictable text entry is trickier to use than the t9 system on my old phone. But the fact that I can browse the photos I upload to flickr and other photo hosting sites makes up for a lot. Oh yeah, and I can make phone calls with it too!

If you’re a Star Wars fan, you’ll probably hate me for this review. But I don’t care. I went reluctantly to see this flick, having been coerced by an excited group of co-workers. The reason for my reluctance is tough to put into words. I loved the first Star Wars movie and like every kid of that era, watched it on VHS over and over until memorizing all the lines. Something about the chemistry between the actors and the low budget special effects created an adventurous spark that made the movie magical like no other film ever made. Even the commercialism that followed didn’t bother me – I was happily caught up in collecting the figures and re-creating the scenes I knew by heart. But then the sequels (ok, prequels) came. And each one was more blatantly commercialized than the last. Now where there used to be acting, there are pallid, blank stares while expensive, overblown special effects and ungodly animated characters explode across the screen. (I mean, goshdarnit…I’ll never forgive Lucas for JarJar Binks!) In a nutshell, I really thought I’d hate this film. Even though it had all of the flaws mentioned above, I didn’t dislike it as much as I expected to. The storyline is compelling and although the acting is quite flat in most cases, I was at least able to relate to the characters and their motivations. Still, most of the special effects are just plain distracting to the point of silliness.

Lately, the H.B. Reese Candy Company (a division of Hershey Foods) has been coming out with some new twists on classic confections – like white chocolate peanut butter cups! Since I love white chocolate AND Reese’s ® Peanut Butter Cups, I decided to give these a try after lunch today. I must admit to being somewhat disappointed. The primary sensation I felt after taking my first bite was “thirsty.” Reese’s ® peanut butter filling has always been a bit on the salty side, which is a great contrast with the milk chocolate coating on their regular cups. But the white chocolate coating on these didn’t have enough creamy flavor to cut the saltiness. In fact, it didn’t seem to have much flavor at all – just a slight tinge of sweetness. I’m not really sure if this candy is a victim of poor execution, or of poor concept. But these two great tastes just didn’t taste great together. I’ll give ‘em a couple of diamonds for trying something different though.

My music projects require the use of many cables of varying length and thickness. Keeping them untangled can be a nightmare, but neatly coiled cables are an essential part of a smooth performance. Not only that, but one bad kink can render them useless forevermore. I always try to take good care of my cables by wrapping them into loose coils before packing them away. Trouble is…it can be hard to find a way to hold the bundles together. Twist ties last for about 2 shows before breaking. And rubber bands…I never touch them! The short Velcro pieces that come packaged with cables are ok for small bundles, but they don’t hold up well for large ones. After listening to me complain about this problem for long enough, Mike came to my rescue and bought me these nifty Velcro Plant Ties. I’ve got to admit that they’re pretty amazing! The product is a 2-sided Velcro tape that comes on a roll. It can be cut to any length, as needed. When wrapped around a tomato plant or a bunch of cables, it sticks to itself and holds the bundle intact. It’s reusable too. And while the bright green color may not be my favorite shade, it’s great for visibility in dark clubs. A roll of this stuff has become a permanent addition to my gig bag. I’m sure that there are plenty of non-musical uses for Velcro Tape too. Go out and get some for yourself!

I picked these up for 3 reasons.

1: I couldn’t believe such a flavor really exists.
2: I wanted to review them.
3: Mike dared me to try some.

The flavor is somewhat similar to BBQ chips, but with more essence of fake tomato and none of the smoke. Before biting into one, I fooled myself into thinking that it might taste like a French fry dipped in Ketchup. No dice. The thing about these chips is…I bet you can eat just one.

I don’t know how someone thought of mounting a pickup on a kazoo, but what a great idea. I love it! I can plug it into my signal chain, and have hours of fun recording hum-buzzing, freakout noise. This thing is a great toy, especially for the experimental (read: fx happy) musician who is looking for that unique, never-been-heard-before sound.