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I’m in love with Jimmy Page again. Dear God, why wasn’t I born in 50s London (or San Francisco, but that’s another story)?
See, I finally managed to buy “Hammer of the Gods,” that Led Zeppelin bio by Stephen Davis that I had previously blogged about. I haven’t listened to Led Zep in what feels like ages–about two years ago I realized that I had to move on, at least a little bit, and stop living in the past, haha–but reading just the first few pages makes me want to download even The Yardbirds tracks.
I love how Davis just drops the names of the greats and expects you to get it. To illustrate (boldface, my own):
A few weeks later, after one of the Marquee blues jams, Page was approached by a young guitarist with a London band called Roosters. He said that he thought Jimmy sounded a lot like Matthew Murphy, then playing with Memphis Slim. Jimmy was flattered. The guitarist introduced himself: “My name’s Eric Clapton.” (p. 15)
Coincidentally, a guitarist named Eddie Phillips with an English group called Creation (bass guitar: Ron Wood) was already bowing his electric guitar in London at the time. (p. 23)
I don’t claim to know every Led Zep track ever recorded since I listened to them at the time that I was also busy devouring music from other classic rock pioneers–The Who, The Doors, etc–but I loved the few tracks that I used to constantly listen to.
I had to stop reading at page 27 and put the book down because, um, I had gotten too nostalgic. See, it mentioned the 1966 film Blow-Up which we saw in Film 175 class. That movie, while weirdly fascinating, had seriously boring moments, and near the end we were all feeling antsy because we just wanted it to end. But suddenly there comes this nightclub scene. There is a band. And who’s playing the guitar? Jimmy-fkin-Page. I was immediately shaken out of my stupor, but no one else in the class seemed to notice that it was The Yardbirds playing.
Ah, college.
Anyway, interesting post-House moment yesterday. And today! Too many distractions. I swear, my life is becoming stranger and stranger.
u!
The annual UAAP cheering competition is that one day of the year when we are free to bash other universities because we can hide under the cloak of “school spirit.”
And bashing we did today. And cheering. A hell of a lot of cheering.
During my four-year stay in UP, I was satisfied with just watching the event on TV–mostly because I was too lazy to exert effort at finding tickets and joining the cheering crowd. But today I dragged my ass to the Araneta Coliseum to watch the competition live because one of my friends, who is pretty well-connected in college athletics, managed to get us Upper Box A tickets at the last minute.
I wasn’t so impressed with UST’s performance, and I’m not just saying this because I’m from UP. Oh, it was well-executed alright, but I thought it was pretty forgettable. The other pep squads were surprisingly okay, particularly Ateneo. I think it must be frustrating for some of the teams because the same universities end up in the top three.
UP deserved to win, though. Are you kidding me, the tribal concept alone screams “for the win.” Watch the entire fantastic routine below:
I love my alma mater 
Afterwards we had dinner, and then free coffee at CBTL courtesy of our ‘rich’ friend hihi. Once again I got home shortly before midnight. See, the bus I was riding in sped past EDSA Crossing where I was supposed to get off, so at about 10:30 p.m. I was walking along EDSA alone. Gaaaah. Buses are slowly losing their charm.
has it really been two months?
Friday dinner at Taco Bell, with M1, M2, G and W.
M1 complains about her potential future husband, an American marine (!) who, she says, insists on imposing on her his world view.
J: “Mga imperyalistang Amerikano talaga yan, lagi na lang silang nang-iimpose!”
G: “Puso mo.”
J: “Naalala ko lang yung Indians.”
G: “Ay true.”
Ah, college life. I was what you’d describe as a pretty outstanding Journalism major, although truth be told I’d rather be taking History–I actually took 6 History subjects. I did a 10-page paper on the plight of Native Americans for American History I, then another 10-page paper (or was it 13?) on the hippie subculture.
(Which reminds me–it occurred to me a while ago that I still haven’t finished Ken Kesey’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, which I began reading earlier this year. Or have I? For some reason I don’t remember the ending, although I do remember raving about how good it is. Hmmm.)
Anyway. After dinner we hung out at Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf and caught up on each other’s love lives. Man that was tiring, sharing all the dating stories I acquired during the past month. We all really should hang out more.
