Danforth Chapel #TBT

Danforth Chapel, University of Kansas, Lawrence, KS 2005
Danforth Chapel, University of Kansas, Lawrence, KS 2005

I Love Eurovision (and you should too!)

It’s almost spring and that means Europe is preparing for the best non-sporting tournament in the world: the Eurovision Song Contest! While not a fan of any of the American song or music competitions, to say I look forward to Eurovision every year is a massive understatement. I’m straight up obsessed with it.


This is the contest that launched the career of ABBA and helped bring Celine Dion to the attention of non-Francophones the world over when she performed for Switzerland, which in 1988 was part of Quebec (jk). I have no idea how I got into Eurovision. Was it a European friend? Is it because I listen to a lot of Russian pop music? Regardless, it is a cult that I am really passionate about and I want you to be too. So I’ve selected some highlights and some fails from this year’s contest and I invite you to learn more and get really, really into some silly pop music with me. Even if you hate the songs, it makes a good drinking game.

Continue reading “I Love Eurovision (and you should too!)”

photography, travel

Battersea Power Station #TBT

My best friend Lauren is a huge Pink Floyd fan, and I knew that I couldn’t come home from England without attempting to photograph something for her (my idea of a souvenir). Battersea Power Station was on the cover of the album Animals, and it was right here in London. Perfect fit for my dear Lolo.

It had been raining for days and would continue to do so for many more, so I woke up early one more morning and with my friend Chris in tow, set out for south London in the rain. A tube ride, a train and a long walk later, I found myself standing outside of Battersea Power Station but my view blocked by a temporary wooden fence.

First the rain, then the overly complicated journey, now my shot is blocked by a damn fence? Please. I found an opening where someone had kicked in part of the plywood near the bottom, squeezed my arms and head through the hole, and promptly sat my elbows into a muddy puddle. The rain let up for just a few seconds and I was able to get this single shot.

Lauren loved it.


Red Army

Since 2011, I have seen four films in the theatre. I rarely go out to see movies since I have a very short attention span–that’s why I watch things like sports. So it’s pretty odd that I left my house (gasp!) while a hockey game was on (seriously, I’m okay) to go see a film called “Red Army“, and now I am here writing about it. I don’t even read movie reviews.

I'll do pretty much anything for hockey, like sacrifice an hour and a half of my time to sit in a comfy recliner and eat a vegan hot dog.
I’ll do pretty much anything for hockey, like sacrifice an hour and a half of my time to sit in a comfy recliner and eat a vegan hot dog.

I’ve known about this documentary for some time, and have been eagerly awaiting its release because it’s so incredibly rare that I get to see a film that indulges so many of my obsessions–history, hockey, and Russian/Soviet culture. But even if you don’t share my bias, “Red Army” still stands alone as a compelling and insightful story. If you like hockey, you just get a little more out of it.

The film follows five members of the Red Army hockey team, including captain Slava Fetisov, whose cheeky interviews with filmmaker Gabe Polsky are the exceptionally candid and interesting. On the ice these men are highly skilled, nearly mechanical in their play. The stories revealed by the men they spent all their time with—coaches, teammates, staff, as well as their families—tell of their personal and political struggles as athletes and patriots. The Red Army team was doing things no one in North America was doing at the time—all from the mind the incredible coach Anatoly Tarasov, who is shown demonstrating the proper on-ice somersault to his young pupils. Wives of players complained of only seeing her husband one weekend a month. Army-like indeed.

The film was well-shot, beautifully designed, and even used a song called «Трус не играет в хоккей», or “No Coward Plays Hockey”. Creepy children’s choirs were a thing in the Soviet Union, and while some find them creepy, I think they’re awesome. Several years ago I shared a this clip from a Soviet program on Facebook and several friends thought it was me. These shows are Eurovision meets 70s kitsch and Soviet patriotism—and totally ridiculous. I love this weird stuff, so of course I have to share this with you.

Watch «Трус не играет в хоккей» and follow along with the lyrics below, then check out a list of theatres playing the film here (SF and San Jose, it’s playing at Embarcadero and Camera 12, respectively). I’ll let you know when the next hockey movie comes out.

Трус не игрaет в хоккeй / No Coward Plays Hockey
Трус не игрaет в хоккeй / No Coward Plays Hockey

Lyrics courtesy of Wikipedia.