I'll be busy tomorrow so posting will be light, if done at all. In lieu of political commentary, I'll continue with photographic vignettes that, if comments I've received are any indication as to what my readers enjoy, should be - well, enjoyable.
Let's talk hair. Let's talk hair music. Let's talk cool uncoolness.
This picture was taken five years ago at a Pregnant Rat show in the basement of Shaw Hall, Syracuse University. I am on the left, shrieking unintelligibly into the microphone thrust within my personal space. Pregnant Rat deserves its own entry - it's a long story.
Suffice to say, this began (without me) as a death metal band in Drop-D. The guys were lazy and failed to foment songs in practice; invited by a hardcore band to fill in an opening slot, they obliged. And failed to foment songs before the show. Ever-adaptive, they shrugged their shoulders, asked me to recite an artsy manifesto about death metal before their set, and set about improvising the most awful, clanging, cacophony ever to reverberate in that cramped, mirrored, basement dance room.
Everybody loved it.
Those of you with trained Ubaldi-story eyes may have noticed the front head of the drum kit's kick drum. Yes, the set was named "Bib Fortuna" and, as the legend goes, whenever this guy named Al - who once owned the set - would play, the kit invariably would go BLICK-em-BLICK-em-BLICK-em-BLICK-em. Played for Pregnant Rat, it sounded worse.
Best. Joke. Band. Ever.
Interlude for reputation realignment. I'm really quite a mild-mannered fellow, true to form. This is my family, minus sister (she took the picture, I believe). I don't know where Norman Rockwell's signature wandered off to, but it belongs in the right hand corner: yes, we had the hats lying around and they came on rather naturally.
And I eventually cut my hair (piercing my ears to make up for it, but I've been through with that for two years now). I'm whistling in the picture but as to the song - I can't recall. I'll never forget Kochman's recollection of passing me on his way to class: "I was walking and saw this guy and I thought, 'Hey, it's Eminem.' Then I looked closer and said, 'Oh, wait, it's Mike Ubaldi.'"
This was taken by my professional photographer buddy, Paul, in what's easily my favorite, serendipitous triumph of natural light. I do well, all regal and such.
I'll be back soon. Work, moving and community beckon (and I'll probably find a reason to sneak in a post, rest assured).