OK, I've had an extraordinarily eventful few days, so forgive me as I catch up rather slowly. Brent and Gary and I went on a road trip to Memphis. As befits pop culture junkies, we concentrated on music, music, music. Elvis of course (the Guralnick biographies whetted my appetite for this trip in the first place) but also, thrillingly, Stax and Hi records, were our main priorities.

One magnificent moment of many: at the Rock and Soul Museum, seeing the drums, bass, and piano used on all the Stax recording sessions. *Wow*. And thanks to Shangri-La Records, I now own a 'certified by a brickologist' brick from the Stax building, which Brent and I will take back to New Zealand and place somewhere significant in our home. Yay!


Additionally, and irrelevantly, the Golden Globes pissed me off (and it took a lot to piss me off that evening, since I was very very stoned). Rachel Griffiths and her 'yew ah the sauce of the reevah' speech was the final fucking straw. It's a *cable TV show*, people. Bloody hell. I thought Australians were supposed to be refreshingly unpretentious! And Baz Luhrman, yeesh. Dude has made three movies with the exact same plot - starcrossed lovers try to overcome obstacles, wow, that's original - and thinks he's reinvented the wheel. Yurgh.

Perhaps paradoxically, I was also very peeved that Peter Jackson got snubbed for best picture. Jingoism is fun! :)