tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88241712387161893822024-03-04T22:01:49.957-06:00Constant VelocityUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-46846154443441968622010-08-11T21:18:00.001-05:002010-08-11T21:21:33.821-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi33Qqm1PuV624ucDLMsEioH_ecd88sdpokgUcnL4MtRT_ffD-DqcnGBe4vdw377G27t8vhyrmgwHigy-67BAycQgPkF6T3EZHr8lgbpbD1E1ht4MdEjHJBpCJZYT9Xw1WpIMEa8DR2eT5K/s1600/anicepair.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi33Qqm1PuV624ucDLMsEioH_ecd88sdpokgUcnL4MtRT_ffD-DqcnGBe4vdw377G27t8vhyrmgwHigy-67BAycQgPkF6T3EZHr8lgbpbD1E1ht4MdEjHJBpCJZYT9Xw1WpIMEa8DR2eT5K/s400/anicepair.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504342646355108258" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 17px; font-family:'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Once upon a time, kids, if you wanted to find out more about a band, you had to go to a book store. I know, I know, it sounds crazy. But it’s true. There was, you see, no internet. If you thirsted for more information about how this wonderful music came into being you could stare at the album cover or go find a book. There were a lot more music magazines back then too. But if the band you liked was no longer popular, or never was popular, you’re outta luck, pal.</span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Had I been born some 20 years later all of the information I could possibly desire would have been at my feet along with possible connection to communities of like-minded enthusiasts. As it was, being a fan of British psychedelic music at that time, in that place, was a lonely activity.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Into this breach gingerly steps one Nicholas Schaffner and his book </span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The British Invasion: From the First Wave to the New Wave. </span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You could say that this book had as strong an influence on my development as any band or album. Not only did I cede to this book the authority we naturally privilege text (cf. Foucault, et al), but since it was a comparatively rare subject and seemed to be written by someone with similar tastes—-</span><em style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and </span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I was aesthetically isolated </span><em style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and </span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I was a mopey teenager who nobody understood anyway, it had a novitiate to superior effect. And if what Greil Marcus says is true, that rock n roll is the passing of secret information from one generation to the next, then here you have it.</span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> The book mixed information with criticism and, where Schaffner was moved, outright proselytization. He felt very passionately about the genius of Syd Barrett. As a young fella I was easily seduced by the tragic/romantic tale of Barrett’s lionization and descent into schizophrenia. Madness was already a much celebrated topic in the later works of Pink Floyd and it was indeed a sad story.</span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> “A Nice Pair” was Capitol Record’s re-packaging of Pink Floyd’s first two albums,</span><em style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Piper at the Gates of Dawn</span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and </span><em style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Saucerfull of Secrets. </span></em></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Here is where the tale gets complicated. Of course, what I was expecting when I bought the cassette, was the embryonic, undistilled matter from which the latter breathtaking, cinematic sound-scapes were woven. That’s there, but what’s also there is some highly idiosyncratic songwriting. Nicholas Schaffner expected me to see that </span><em style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">this</span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> was the genius part. I labored mightily at it and eventually saw what I was expected to see. But why did he want me to understand it this way?</span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> In his book, </span><em style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">White Bicycles</span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Joe Boyd, producer of Pink Floyd’s single, “Arnold Lane” says that of the many bands that were popular during the “London Underground” efflorescence of psychedelic bands, everyone expected The Incredible String Band to be the Next Big Thing. Pink Floyd was to remain date stamped by the times and slip away into obscurity. </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> The inverse is what actually happened. The Incredible String Band sound preposterous to us now but were more traditionally songwriterly than the more gimmicky Pink Floyd. You can’t blame the commentators and critics at the time for being short-sighted. Everyone expected traditional songwriting to prevail because the thing that Pink Floyd was to invent and perfect (those vast, patient, cinematic sounding albums) had not yet been imagined.</span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Nicholas Schaffner, who also wrote some excellent books about the Beatles and was himself a songwriter, was inclined towards traditional songwriting himself. I think, like many critics in his generation, that he was distrustful of the novelty that Pink Floyd presented. They were considered bloated and pretentious by many, don’t forget (more on “pretentiousness” later.)</span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Which brings us back around to the present day and sitting down to listen to these albums again. And it gets more complicated still creating a three segmented snake of thoughts swallowing it’s own tail:</span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> First, individually these songs sound weak. While there is a great deal of promise here, I am hearing the sound of young songwriters getting tripped up over compositional problems that a little more experience would smooth over and solve. Far from hearing a Genius with a capital Gee, I now hear the seventh or eighth best writer of this particular type of music…which isn’t nothing, mind you. I’d love to be the seventh or eighth best anything in any category.</span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> But second, these albums sound beautiful. Taken as a whole, the quality of execution , the choice of instrumentation and the sheer variety of songs is just awesome. The variety is what I like best. True to their avant-garde rep, this was definitely a band that wasn’t afraid to try anything at all. You don’t hear that much anymore. On the unity-variety scale, most bands of recent vintage tend to err on the side of monotony. </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Which forces me to revisit thought one and think that my ears are contaminated by professionalism. That I have been conditioned to expect a kind of slick songwriting and this album is defying my conventions and demanding to be taken as it is offered. What sounds at first weak is actually character. Character that gets stomped flat by a music industry that seeks (sought?) to control all unknowns and eliminate that which cannot be monetized.</span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> And so ‘round and ‘round I go as I listen. </span></span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </span><span style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-67292225308587132502010-08-09T13:27:00.004-05:002010-08-09T13:45:57.759-05:006 Brandenburgische Konzerte<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5q0yWGd7nze6J8NEHFfKNASf7m-6PJtKbqDjm90-shWvx8SrwndYd23dYQU06UMVl-QBEDuKJr9iJzZjZqed0lQHkGX8WLaUPTG0OEYYDn0XMnyL7N2-JiRvjMDVDsjakOUV6Odh0qgN/s1600/pinchas.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5q0yWGd7nze6J8NEHFfKNASf7m-6PJtKbqDjm90-shWvx8SrwndYd23dYQU06UMVl-QBEDuKJr9iJzZjZqed0lQHkGX8WLaUPTG0OEYYDn0XMnyL7N2-JiRvjMDVDsjakOUV6Odh0qgN/s400/pinchas.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503482767358322370" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">In my old age I have learned to guard against a counterproductive tendency; swamping myself with worthy reading.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Johnathan Franzen in his essay "Why Bother" identifies three types of book readers (he thinks he's naming two, but they are all distinct): The first type is a reader who reads because it is the "done thing." More prevalent on the East Coast, according to Franzen at least, these people read for the same reason they might horseback ride or attend Andover. Class plays a role.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Next, a Midwestern type, reads to know that they are doing something profitable with their free time. Your good old protestant/puritan work-ethic and pleasure-guilt is likely at work here. The Creator frowns upon not taking up every possible free moment with toil. Enjoy oneself instead? No. Shame.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The third is the "social isolate" or put more simply, "nerd who likes to read."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I believe I am an unhealthy balance of all three. These three voices compel me to embark on oceans of worthy reading. Ancient classics, historical books, political thought, philosophy, postmodern fiction. Because I </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">can <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">read them</span>, </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">should </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">read them. Some of these books while indeed being worthy are also, let's not kid ourselves, a drag to read. So, as I flag with one book, I pick up another then that one starts to bog down etc etc until I sit sullenly watching television with a pile of Ovid, Kierkegaard and Pynchon glaring at me from the book case. On my vast sea, I am becalmed. I would know I had done it again when you might ask what I was reading and I would recite a litany of 1/5th read books that would ring very pompous.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Athough maybe I do this because embracing worthy music has paid consistent dividends.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">When I was a young teenager I inherited a box of classical cassette tapes from my father. My father had played classical lps in the house as I was growing up and always listened to the classical station. As a little boy I found most of this music dull, except for a few pyrotechnical pieces with very clear themes. Beethoven's 5th, 6th etc. But I was exposed to it and that probably made the difference.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Laboring under the same troika of impulses, I forced myself to listen to the tapes that contained unknown works. After systematically wading though them few times, the music began to unfold and make sense. I think I was aware of what counterpoint was but one day one of these recordings knocked me off my feet. It was Bach's Brandenburg Concertos as recorded by the Los Angeles Philharmonic and conducted by the violinist Pichas Zukerman. What made these recordings different was in their mixing. They were mixed very dry (no reverb or echo) and hard panned (instruments with different lines very distinctly in one stereo channel or the other). The result, rather than highlighting the way they blended, allowed the listener to hear how the lines were distinct and yet, miraculously, complimented each other.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Every recording I had heard of the concertos prior to that sounded as though they were recorded in a airplane hanger. This gave them an bustling to absurdly busy homophonic (chordal) sound. Probably not what J.S. intended at all.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I am pretty sure it was this recording. I remember it was a pair of blue cassettes, long since lost. Deutsche Grammophone, I think. But I am relying on a 20+ years memory. It took a bit of research to hunt down a new copy. A brand new cd of concertos 1-3 runs around $120. Yikes! Somebody certainly thinks these are worth hearing. Used copies are more reasonably priced. When they arrive, I'll let you know if they still sound the same.</span></div></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-31501741252420233782010-08-07T16:27:00.008-05:002010-08-08T12:46:00.115-05:003 Feet High And Rising<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVBU903yMJ5azVKUeWlLSoC5WOH-93CTEqovCkgJLvff2V6E2yZbmSP-MPPH4yBK2ZUVntgDUQrb2Y0vQqxPv-iGN9cUH0IE9r8DbhtAPG1uU-Q-K50l1nJGfqmlSAFiDjXP20u4i8DAH0/s1600/3feethigh.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVBU903yMJ5azVKUeWlLSoC5WOH-93CTEqovCkgJLvff2V6E2yZbmSP-MPPH4yBK2ZUVntgDUQrb2Y0vQqxPv-iGN9cUH0IE9r8DbhtAPG1uU-Q-K50l1nJGfqmlSAFiDjXP20u4i8DAH0/s400/3feethigh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503095442227198658" /></a><br />There was once a time when WXRT (a Chicago radio station) occasionally played exciting new music.<div><br /></div><div>By the time I said farewell to the suburbs forever, XRT would only play the least objectionable of rock music available via the major labels or their fake smaller imprints. U2, The BoDeans, The Smithereens (The Smithereens <i>constantly </i>it seemed). Plus almost interesting, almost dangerous music whose relevance had recently expired. Like REM, The Cure, The Smiths. Lots of classic rock too.</div><div><br /></div><div>But of all the stations in Chicago, it was the most eclectic. Apart from WNUR, Northwestern's excellent college station whose signal was too weak for me to pick up most of the time. So WXRT was the one I listened to. I have no idea what their format is now.</div><div><br /></div><div>I clearly remember driving my bright yellow Pinto up route 59 when "Eye Know" came on the radio. Mind-blowing. The very idea that some kids from Long Island could breathe life into the very, very tired and monumentally un-sexy Steely Dan. It wasn't just cheeky and (sorry to resort to this word) postmodern, it was totally groovy and danceable.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lots has been written elsewhere about the album's rococo nature, the unprecedented number of samples, its psychedelic feel. For me, what made this album so wonderful was its wedding of thoroughly modern dance and hip-hop beats with beautifully textured R&B, jazz and classic rock. It has a loose, easy feeling that I certainly had never heard in rap before. I think I had Public Enemy's "It takes a Nation of Millions..." on cassette and liked it, but it was a challenging listen at times. Very appropriate to the subject matter, it sounded like a fight between various power tools. Most rap I had been exposed to had a robotic, coked-out, disco vibe.</div><div><br /></div><div>One minor quibble; it's a little long and could have done with a crueller editor's pen.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's worth noting that Urban Dance Squad's "Mental Floss for the Globe" came out the same year and Dream Warriors "And Now the Legacy Begins"* shortly after that. Both inferior visions of the same idea. I guess it was in the air.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>*And there, as it turns out, ends.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-5845571552477969772010-08-06T14:22:00.004-05:002010-08-06T20:14:50.977-05:00Repo Man<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih79Xf_WuD1uBwuAUUOm9rX_BOlkThlk8HUqjJVxHEJ-XBzkO0C3tZjjDaRFELrsofMXLtrzapkxYdg9SSMV0YYDPKFZv0dNvx6eEL_sovHhddoa1gaQOJWHf0k5AOG8rl5OD52tPtM5qI/s1600/repo+man.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih79Xf_WuD1uBwuAUUOm9rX_BOlkThlk8HUqjJVxHEJ-XBzkO0C3tZjjDaRFELrsofMXLtrzapkxYdg9SSMV0YYDPKFZv0dNvx6eEL_sovHhddoa1gaQOJWHf0k5AOG8rl5OD52tPtM5qI/s400/repo+man.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502469042684121138" /></a><br />I can certainly hear why this soundtrack appealed to me, even though quality of the recordings nearly breaks my ears now.<div><br /></div><div>This was, I think, my first exposure to West Coast punk rock. To my ears it sounded much more like "punk rock" as it might be depicted on television or in films. Plodding, repetitive and defiantly lo-fi. Contextually, this worked on many levels when you consider the state of American white person-rock at the time. On the metal end of the spectrum, virtuosity without restraint was being fetishized and there was an oogie kind of "Dawn in America" patriotic songsterizing happening on the JC Mellancamp/Bob Seger side. This was designed to be as different as possible (New Romanticism, preparing to wheeze its last, Michael Jackson, indeed anything that may be construed "disco" is outside the scope of my considerations here).</div><div><br /></div><div>Instead of the palpable rage that you get from the economically devastated U.K. punk rock, here we have a emphasis on irony and witty takes on the low-stakes melodrama of middle class life. This was a revelation to me at the time. And really, if you think about it, a continuation of the Baby Boomer tradition of seeking to create music that will, ideally, frighten or mystify the previous generation. </div><div><br /></div><div>Does punk rock or really any music do this anymore? Wear so many hats and have so many layers? </div><div><br /></div><div>Some of the actors in the film were later members of Joe Strummer's band for his fantastic but completely ignored album "Earthquake Weather."</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-65493584923435860272008-12-27T20:22:00.000-06:002008-12-27T20:23:57.346-06:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHR2ilDOjcExvR4-Prutv6nMlZve4oAHLQN3TZcWk5gV4epFCW108SOuNIe2t0Len9AWZAda24GnrjKi6i-izBFWloHMJq_dakAxYYHNwDuPOOSTL5lrR8izNGaNHaY_6UOKKUsbpRfME8/s1600-h/scan0010.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284660970127971106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHR2ilDOjcExvR4-Prutv6nMlZve4oAHLQN3TZcWk5gV4epFCW108SOuNIe2t0Len9AWZAda24GnrjKi6i-izBFWloHMJq_dakAxYYHNwDuPOOSTL5lrR8izNGaNHaY_6UOKKUsbpRfME8/s400/scan0010.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-28281170628561748542008-10-27T23:54:00.003-05:002008-10-28T00:02:40.765-05:00Ken Kesey<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFnyWuupnYFkLKJGf3RZ6-Khw0jG39MyWbjDAknqujgFEspdy9fJWLE8Et9YyagChKrXaJSF5gQKvqu4lft-1NYGaJBWGKOfj9tl5N5jYaavMWxS6Ct-b8cJPlPrFoGo0sciltYSQS88-/s1600-h/100_0258.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262063865103395346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFnyWuupnYFkLKJGf3RZ6-Khw0jG39MyWbjDAknqujgFEspdy9fJWLE8Et9YyagChKrXaJSF5gQKvqu4lft-1NYGaJBWGKOfj9tl5N5jYaavMWxS6Ct-b8cJPlPrFoGo0sciltYSQS88-/s400/100_0258.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest re-enactment crew.<br /><br /><br /><br />Shiva <em>always</em> gets to play Chief Bromden.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8A9zJnTd8Rg-1cW2JK5VU0O_6QHE8P7BLUAhNQW49x4J7lQXvLCKjgd8yUsmn07qcNVgd5nOu8L4IqoK4l5-sCoijD5qnVUD_d5t_ccWbVhLOhfrAZJBdUSSq1uGINJ5eisrMb8Fi_snq/s1600-h/100_0268.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262064555556335698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8A9zJnTd8Rg-1cW2JK5VU0O_6QHE8P7BLUAhNQW49x4J7lQXvLCKjgd8yUsmn07qcNVgd5nOu8L4IqoK4l5-sCoijD5qnVUD_d5t_ccWbVhLOhfrAZJBdUSSq1uGINJ5eisrMb8Fi_snq/s400/100_0268.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Poor Cisco.<br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-23817921554517593022008-10-11T19:00:00.001-05:002008-10-11T19:01:52.784-05:00Please to notice conspicuous New Yorker brandishing.<br /><br /><br /><embed src="http://services.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f8/271557392" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" flashVars="videoId=1842856410&playerId=271557392&viewerSecureGatewayURL=https://console.brightcove.com/services/amfgateway&servicesURL=http://services.brightcove.com/services&cdnURL=http://admin.brightcove.com&domain=embed&autoStart=false&" base="http://admin.brightcove.com" name="flashObj" width="486" height="412" seamlesstabbing="false" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" swLiveConnect="true" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"></embed>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-90699267025654335872008-10-06T12:38:00.003-05:002008-10-06T12:43:34.066-05:00My Russian CousinMore shots of my Russian doppelganger. Eerie.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5eOHPbA8i28uDSWCgFqESDSvYX8RxnS7mFvG3AgxTtY93GQQASBy2p8mOaNcHmvr4QZl-JyU4-HH5ypJKLG_2PN_moUwm1UKP-ebVH_eIT4vtPXZvGM8yPLYr412MSM_CjYxQK56Zrd_Y/s1600-h/alek.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254097633573832898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5eOHPbA8i28uDSWCgFqESDSvYX8RxnS7mFvG3AgxTtY93GQQASBy2p8mOaNcHmvr4QZl-JyU4-HH5ypJKLG_2PN_moUwm1UKP-ebVH_eIT4vtPXZvGM8yPLYr412MSM_CjYxQK56Zrd_Y/s400/alek.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXYtLI0XF8qUUYu6Irh_U7W0ArW_7tXeG_nf-KaeAD5poGUi5o-qYbW5UHgL_jwEmmfMIi6dWUNzZIDyO1BKotU60Cxy50ChwANQ2nOO8mv9nmZhcBqgmLxpxmrIRnZB93nNDoi5qxU8bj/s1600-h/venediktov.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254097633309378290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXYtLI0XF8qUUYu6Irh_U7W0ArW_7tXeG_nf-KaeAD5poGUi5o-qYbW5UHgL_jwEmmfMIi6dWUNzZIDyO1BKotU60Cxy50ChwANQ2nOO8mv9nmZhcBqgmLxpxmrIRnZB93nNDoi5qxU8bj/s400/venediktov.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-8wukoDaSgApJ6ErWCBKKrePJNpFjQUAJkWK7zyHQkzy4VamVS4-8E3feLd9ta1jkM7lGvTRtLzTyhzorjHJmLARmNbi8e62YzhI4r35D2eYxEn0G6NHxZTzd2VZYlwtw-JWtc-5nDHU/s1600-h/aleksei.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254097272181831730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-8wukoDaSgApJ6ErWCBKKrePJNpFjQUAJkWK7zyHQkzy4VamVS4-8E3feLd9ta1jkM7lGvTRtLzTyhzorjHJmLARmNbi8e62YzhI4r35D2eYxEn0G6NHxZTzd2VZYlwtw-JWtc-5nDHU/s400/aleksei.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-35582689108987204452008-10-04T22:46:00.004-05:002008-10-04T22:59:31.597-05:00Further Adventures of CiscoHey! Who turned out the lights?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88eGAQ_GKi6JmhU6Rx2lk_0R5KBr9mC5afy8q5Pc3NiExiBpAdOvjc6Wzw_jdhU4uUVOPsBKVc9OEhFqIhrhhwDRa51cuqZNWBdrcz0507j0MlSJVEtORlalOHXvRNbk1ua6G1suR-Fx2/s1600-h/100_0756.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253512029948465602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88eGAQ_GKi6JmhU6Rx2lk_0R5KBr9mC5afy8q5Pc3NiExiBpAdOvjc6Wzw_jdhU4uUVOPsBKVc9OEhFqIhrhhwDRa51cuqZNWBdrcz0507j0MlSJVEtORlalOHXvRNbk1ua6G1suR-Fx2/s320/100_0756.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I'm serious. A little help here?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0Unqq4f6I7TUAM6FIQkxKa9NlejyrGPZhDE2avzLIY2KYhNa6FgzWySjha8aB8LNRI044e9Birlg3PP73E1810brXBo02QmEJxOFT4pIfof3WjuuZM5McEstz7yjNfwxTHTKlKcjKu-E/s1600-h/100_0753.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253511627146681826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0Unqq4f6I7TUAM6FIQkxKa9NlejyrGPZhDE2avzLIY2KYhNa6FgzWySjha8aB8LNRI044e9Birlg3PP73E1810brXBo02QmEJxOFT4pIfof3WjuuZM5McEstz7yjNfwxTHTKlKcjKu-E/s320/100_0753.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p>Vengeance is mine!</p><br /><p></p><br /><p><br /></p><br /><br /><p><br /><br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlrPSarV46zRyi8Nk2wbKx1-ALbKYKbSyyA1O4tz_6OxtzpPUmEgAn4ZANEu70AnM_qFFwa-cp9K_RTfK4hDQz0V5bGVDP85sriNS5651-T9sAr9g6Feh2QdV3x9PzStOWIDGiuVDLfAh-/s1600-h/_44105761_africanwoman416ap.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253512805735212594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlrPSarV46zRyi8Nk2wbKx1-ALbKYKbSyyA1O4tz_6OxtzpPUmEgAn4ZANEu70AnM_qFFwa-cp9K_RTfK4hDQz0V5bGVDP85sriNS5651-T9sAr9g6Feh2QdV3x9PzStOWIDGiuVDLfAh-/s320/_44105761_africanwoman416ap.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p> </p><p>I will admit that I am not above gently tormenting my own dogs. This was completely Cisco's doing though. He came flailing out of the bedroom with it over his head.<br /><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-81261969840386011442008-09-18T21:36:00.003-05:002008-09-18T21:40:18.962-05:00The Future<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzjyvcM49hatSBvV7fDPvevkZlBWYnbFAaN_JEYdRghvU_7_9jSARiYU9lWIr7hFl-lkHUHen7dFzKYnggMTUui51CTfhTDWtN7aaTmkaIpVOFDkr7dI9xrEHacJZDvnWp4OTle6HXq2l/s1600-h/aleks.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247556194567057602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzjyvcM49hatSBvV7fDPvevkZlBWYnbFAaN_JEYdRghvU_7_9jSARiYU9lWIr7hFl-lkHUHen7dFzKYnggMTUui51CTfhTDWtN7aaTmkaIpVOFDkr7dI9xrEHacJZDvnWp4OTle6HXq2l/s320/aleks.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Went to the Coffee Hound to pound down a quick macchiato and leaf the latest New Yorker. I was confronted by the above. </div><div> </div><div>There I am. A dissident Russian DJ. About 20 years on.</div><div> </div><div>Wait. No. Maybe more like 10 years.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-67764651928778747092008-08-08T23:56:00.001-05:002008-08-08T23:59:06.683-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJIRydutZzNR7ox6b5zbNm2XppNTWIexTM5bUUXInJ1_OxpGKP6xEVyFTXIBn09R8ugEA_KsVK3r3rOcSdeHR47ZLOjl6jsAGcDOLNgFM1mTI_IGDOE2cM_ikcQBmcIRyTtXG18XyLrF5/s1600-h/kierkegaard.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232377601951470930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJIRydutZzNR7ox6b5zbNm2XppNTWIexTM5bUUXInJ1_OxpGKP6xEVyFTXIBn09R8ugEA_KsVK3r3rOcSdeHR47ZLOjl6jsAGcDOLNgFM1mTI_IGDOE2cM_ikcQBmcIRyTtXG18XyLrF5/s320/kierkegaard.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.</div><div> </div><div> -Soren Kierkegaard</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Mmmm. Word to that, big K.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-10181406878623147642008-07-19T23:03:00.003-05:002008-12-08T18:06:08.263-06:00Mind Altering<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmCB8FEjxwU5lnf2H6Y3W5iTuaSsJqLzZNl5aQtt7i1wZuctGexGEwhazOkFU78lHBPvuaTUAS6JE7SiAP8nukJklT5aFWrRbNdJAp2BtOrPkv104ZYplBHPfdtJVrGF31iPeBUEiToOHV/s1600-h/sanitaire%2520SC886.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224945239677468770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmCB8FEjxwU5lnf2H6Y3W5iTuaSsJqLzZNl5aQtt7i1wZuctGexGEwhazOkFU78lHBPvuaTUAS6JE7SiAP8nukJklT5aFWrRbNdJAp2BtOrPkv104ZYplBHPfdtJVrGF31iPeBUEiToOHV/s320/sanitaire%2520SC886.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Two epiphanic episodes this week for me.<br /><br />Driving the truck up Veteran's Parkway I look down and see the left turn signal has been flashing for the last half mile. In my defense, the blinker is totally silent. You can only <em>see</em> that is on.<br /><br />"Way to go grandpa." I say to myself.<br /><br />And then I think about this. "Grandpa," hmm.<br /><br />Soon I will be 40. It's not totally implausible that I could have been a father at 20. It didn't happen, obviously. But it could have.<br /><br />And if <em>I</em> had son or daughter at 20 why couldn't they have done the same?</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>You look at yourself in the prime of life one moment. The next, viola! Grandpa! </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Freaky.</div><div> </div><div>Also, this:</div><br /><div></div><br /><div> </div><div>When I took over the business, I got out my two best vacuums, lined them up and addressed them Patton style (i.e. I put on breeches and gestured with a riding crop)</div><br /><br /><div></div>"You two vacuums are my best two vacuums. You have served me well and you continue to run quietly and efficiently. " Here I paced back and forth swishing the crop through the air for emphasis.<br /><br /><br /><br />I round on them, pointing,"Some day you will break down. It is inevitable." I let that soak in for a while and then continued:<br /><br /><br /><br />"But what you must not do, must never do, is break down at the same time as your comrade. That would be bad. That would defeat our mission"<br /><br /><br /><br />Of course that is exactly what they did. I think the bearings went out on one and I know the plastic fan snapped on the other.<br /><br /><br /><br />I ordered a new motor. I never think of my self as being handy with stuff or adept at all with the more malleable aspects of the physical world, but a new motor was about $150 cheaper prospect so I thought I'd give it a whirl.<br /><br /><br />I disconnected and removed the old motor and installed the new one<br />quite successfully. With minimal parts left over (2 weird little springs that somehow, inscrutably, attach to the inside of the housing.).<br /><br /><br /><br />It made me feel so buoyantly happy to penetrate the mysteries of my own vacuum. I woke up that morning as someone to whom the innards of the Sanitaire were a void. And now...<br /><br /><br />Two instants where the universe revolved and deposited me in totally unexpected place.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-75854893707671146022008-07-15T02:57:00.001-05:002008-07-15T03:01:42.602-05:00The Gold Standard<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SjxY9rZwNGU&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SjxY9rZwNGU&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-53009882660660410542008-07-01T11:21:00.002-05:002008-12-08T18:06:08.838-06:00Album<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu-7niY8qvXIIRGJ-oFNHORiycekHNDa4PUDAHa2nupu3TUZNbp4yN1XbZRiNWYPBmwkPCgOVBV1bxroabS4Z_MzEslQVtXtXsnroQQTc6yhQTZwJ5nMD2p3XjPP5KDLwHulEGF_sBDvbu/s1600-h/front_cover_web_large+inverted.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218082245735508050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu-7niY8qvXIIRGJ-oFNHORiycekHNDa4PUDAHa2nupu3TUZNbp4yN1XbZRiNWYPBmwkPCgOVBV1bxroabS4Z_MzEslQVtXtXsnroQQTc6yhQTZwJ5nMD2p3XjPP5KDLwHulEGF_sBDvbu/s400/front_cover_web_large+inverted.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I might have already sent you one.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>But if you like, I will send you our new album.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Send me your address. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-46654081997404993212008-06-14T19:08:00.002-05:002008-12-08T18:06:09.009-06:00Wrong<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPrBZB4GCf__2dV2AMT0V-tVUV86b_lmC6U6BFNXumHhnRfZ8vXHdGMiBaw5CtV2jfSRdGcI0CtsKaNUIvZMh0v5jCJ6iOTXAezAx6MRrhgbUCvFnYu5nf9eS0vR2uvOhizqALv5l8Zk8/s1600-h/Return.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211894718838610514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPrBZB4GCf__2dV2AMT0V-tVUV86b_lmC6U6BFNXumHhnRfZ8vXHdGMiBaw5CtV2jfSRdGcI0CtsKaNUIvZMh0v5jCJ6iOTXAezAx6MRrhgbUCvFnYu5nf9eS0vR2uvOhizqALv5l8Zk8/s400/Return.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>The name is wrong but that's no big deal. They don't really look at the name.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>11. Yes.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Harbottle. Close. Easy mistake.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Whitehorse, Yukon, Canada.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>No.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-39711731869904120812008-06-09T00:03:00.004-05:002008-12-08T18:06:09.106-06:00Barometers<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIqMJs8Kxi5sF70VzJmsRRAVs0asf9b4W67B4Kpr8WdaekxfRREOMoEmGWJNO7SlpD2nMN0WTqD0_ove-2trzW3l_a5_sGMOa_yYh_Jm4Yd0jjI5uvhm4ysxDwSAodVPYoXqkMOcw0rKhR/s1600-h/posed.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209744562740736162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIqMJs8Kxi5sF70VzJmsRRAVs0asf9b4W67B4Kpr8WdaekxfRREOMoEmGWJNO7SlpD2nMN0WTqD0_ove-2trzW3l_a5_sGMOa_yYh_Jm4Yd0jjI5uvhm4ysxDwSAodVPYoXqkMOcw0rKhR/s400/posed.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Just got back from our night walk.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>A time for inspecting the neighborhood running around from yard to yard. Tonight at midnight it is still stiflingly hot and humid.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>In the middle of our walk Shiva and Cisco stop dead in the street. </div><div> </div><div>First they come over to me and look me in the face. Very strange since they almost completely ignore me on our walks. They are too busy smelling stuff. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Then they face into the wind about 10 seconds before a blast of cold air hits us. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Clever little things.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-72340992462371758642008-05-17T12:41:00.002-05:002008-12-08T18:06:09.211-06:00Muttonhead songs<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBfYlOY8gqQOfHANgnKqAibjhLyJFO4i56t8u8qkl4hTZK-voefdu1S-8vP6aeWns-DfzE7Pauwp7WS4EI9zQ9ONvQbse8fr-AM3vebox-PS02cRB5JrRxd8K45OeYkFqnyjhHVDfpek4d/s1600-h/front_cover.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201402185706378210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBfYlOY8gqQOfHANgnKqAibjhLyJFO4i56t8u8qkl4hTZK-voefdu1S-8vP6aeWns-DfzE7Pauwp7WS4EI9zQ9ONvQbse8fr-AM3vebox-PS02cRB5JrRxd8K45OeYkFqnyjhHVDfpek4d/s200/front_cover.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I am going to post some info about our upcoming album on our website for reviewers and fans alike to peruse if they wish. But I want you to read it first:</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>First off "Muttonhead" is the nickname given to our esteemed producer Jerry Erickson. Have you ever seen the movie "Any Which Way But Loose"? At the end there is a scene where all are gathered in a bar and a country and western band is playing a song. The bass player has pouffy hair and big muttonchops. That's Jerry. Muttonhead.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>1. "From the McLean Co Lockup" </div><br /><br /><div>This a song that used to be called 'The Stir'. It is the result of reflections made subsequent to my little brush with the law all those years ago. I think it is the last of the 'Gallery' songs. The Gallery was a legendary music club and watering hole (is 'liquoring hole' a phrase?)here in downstate Illinois to which many of us were attached in one way or another. It has been the subject of many of my songs.</div><br /><br /><div>It took me about 30 takes to get it right as we wanted to record both the vocals and the guitar at the same time. There are some tiny little flaws in the recording that we just said "Fuck it" to. It was the right performance.</div><br /><br /><br /><div>The guitar is run through 2 amps. A Matchless Spitfire and Jerry's sweet c. 1960 Fender Pro. All blended together. Mmm.</div><br /><br /><div>2. "After 4"</div><br /><br /><br /><div>This always sounds like mid-90s pop to me. I expect the DJ to come on and say that he's gonna follow that up with some Semisonic and Fastball. It's super-tight because we have played it 1 billion times. You don't like this song? Don't worry; its barely 2 minutes long.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>3. "Kelly"</div><br /><br /><div>A country song. Our friend <a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=43776956">Martin Hartzold</a> deserves half credit for this song. He was the one that came up with the very country notion of a man made wretched by unrequited love but, living as he does in a trailer, unable to hang himself because his ceilings are too low. </div><br /><br /><div>4. "Disorder"</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>An ode to obsessives and compulsives I have known.</div><br /><br /><div>5. "Truculent"</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Our hit. This song is about trucks, people in my neighborhood, belligerent foreign policy and Toby Keith. Oh, and the environment. It's all in there.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Northwest guitar heavy <a href="http://www.myspace.com/spanishfor100">A P Starkey</a> takes a turn with the space rock. During the recording I innocently asked if the guitar was in tune. This provoked barks of laughter from Aaron and Jerry. "What he is playing has nothing to do with being in tune," said Jerry. "Ah, right." says I, chastened.</div><br /><br /><div>After we had been playing it for a while I noticed that the song's structure and vibe is the similar to "Question" by the Moody Blues. One of my childhood favorites.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>6. "Time" </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>An affectionate and teasingly disrespectful cover. "What is Pink Floyd <em>not</em>?" I asked myself as we set out to play the 1973 chestnut. "Sexy and Latin" was the reply. People often don't recognize this song when we play it live. Mission accomplished.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><p>7. "Lucky Double 9s" </p><br /><p>Named for Chiang Kai shek's favorite brand of cigarettes. A foray into the postmodern approach of hijacking historical figures and re-purposing them in fantastical narratives. Here Chiang Kai-shek drives though my town, Bloomington Il...and makes many observations that bear a suspicious similarity to my own.</p><br /><p>This song also appeared on our 4 song EP.</p><br /><p>At a recent show some drunken fellows stumbled up the stage to tell me that I "Have a great voice for screaming." The implication being that, in their opinion, the singing (or indeed, conversational speech?) was not up to snuff. I should just scream and be happy with that. I don't really agree with them but did not bother to point out that only screaming forecloses a great many vocal and musical subtleties.</p><br /><p>But this screamy song makes their point somewhat convincingly. </p><br /><p>8. "In Memoriam" Written about a friend's stepfather, of whom I was fond.<br /></p><br /><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-75844697981807318732008-05-07T12:21:00.002-05:002008-12-08T18:06:09.304-06:00Delusional II<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEk-GBDlPp6tAktRyjboIrOM61TcqHXA9B_jbPDrg3KuS1Sw7c8W2Kw3NQlja-HK8cBb-vTeR3LkQM7ucvEXkGuhp7u8ayHr0KamHNeIGrjFDtGhADzWLDL0mNsiVF8ZADyIMKMjEtIzDT/s1600-h/drunk.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197689419387939010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEk-GBDlPp6tAktRyjboIrOM61TcqHXA9B_jbPDrg3KuS1Sw7c8W2Kw3NQlja-HK8cBb-vTeR3LkQM7ucvEXkGuhp7u8ayHr0KamHNeIGrjFDtGhADzWLDL0mNsiVF8ZADyIMKMjEtIzDT/s200/drunk.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>“It’s full speed on to the White House,” Mrs. Clinton confidently proclaimed.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Correct me if I am wrong, but isn't that what I used to say as I stumbled home from the bar?</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-53684134058145360982008-04-28T01:37:00.002-05:002008-12-08T18:06:09.387-06:00Too Slow<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQla7KNo-Jkkevv-3GbgGvOVcReDMKbJQNPuCqbtwg7loqmLTventqNjB1k5VK-wAut838HRUZS6sIzFY_pE8FIuqGQJen9zRDGLXer9ttXiE9-I3P9f5hlAVhVyZVWvcGfE4BcwUyjGJz/s1600-h/cv+photo.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194182613912315474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQla7KNo-Jkkevv-3GbgGvOVcReDMKbJQNPuCqbtwg7loqmLTventqNjB1k5VK-wAut838HRUZS6sIzFY_pE8FIuqGQJen9zRDGLXer9ttXiE9-I3P9f5hlAVhVyZVWvcGfE4BcwUyjGJz/s200/cv+photo.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It ain't easy coming up with album names.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Not only is 'Houses of the Holy Moly' already taken, but so is 'Pastor of Muppets.'</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Damn.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-19300337446150723962008-04-21T11:00:00.003-05:002008-12-08T18:06:09.507-06:00Elite<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7xAQ5gNzyBJtbB19A-N4VG-KX3Ql9KoXCsF7TyfkVnuz2XoIMvWDpVBtLq66-D6SXXCShxWkspfr3Uvm_SQK7QmJrHNLRcYW5CHywfOfnhrdnkBblNWwduJ9MxlPa2I-KomewWDNVIQ76/s1600-h/jeeves.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191729630006090546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7xAQ5gNzyBJtbB19A-N4VG-KX3Ql9KoXCsF7TyfkVnuz2XoIMvWDpVBtLq66-D6SXXCShxWkspfr3Uvm_SQK7QmJrHNLRcYW5CHywfOfnhrdnkBblNWwduJ9MxlPa2I-KomewWDNVIQ76/s200/jeeves.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Times is tough for the elites.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Gotta keep your head down .</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Frank Thomas lays it down here:<a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB120873309012529689.html?mod=opinion_main_commentaries">http://online.wsj.com/article/SB120873309012529689.html?mod=opinion_main_commentaries</a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Ahh. That's better.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-22662417990639319132008-04-04T01:39:00.000-05:002008-12-08T18:06:09.833-06:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivjaZ9o58-Ip5u6XurHMAT9LMRin4BY5pXNG0LFswxKoVeagW9RiEg9RfgG7RQ6l8RrI6kchV1QiFmeluH17TzZKInbt6XEebXE-XZgE730asEVUaZvO0TqCTHJLk_AaRBCE5b3-eDoqYe/s1600-h/tippy+and+ramses.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185276187272575106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivjaZ9o58-Ip5u6XurHMAT9LMRin4BY5pXNG0LFswxKoVeagW9RiEg9RfgG7RQ6l8RrI6kchV1QiFmeluH17TzZKInbt6XEebXE-XZgE730asEVUaZvO0TqCTHJLk_AaRBCE5b3-eDoqYe/s320/tippy+and+ramses.jpg" border="0" /></a> If you go here: <a href="http://basenjirescue.org/CalendarContest/ViewEntries.asp">http://basenjirescue.org/CalendarContest/ViewEntries.asp</a><br /><br /><br />you can find 25 pages of basenji porn.<br /><br />Try not to over-do it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-47560509691445224292008-03-23T01:26:00.004-05:002008-12-08T18:06:10.140-06:00Embarrassment<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVNHrhtCTDBtWz-NPuLfxKabakEdhN-oDPvpiRLgP_iIKNl1jA1e0e6tA5IpiPUkm_J4ZPBejUsO7mMDnl3u2Bq7oSbyiOz_EMta7zX-7jPi-nHdjEBQqAa72EtNG_9RivrUzvHZHY1tbl/s1600-h/irritated.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180820008379119714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVNHrhtCTDBtWz-NPuLfxKabakEdhN-oDPvpiRLgP_iIKNl1jA1e0e6tA5IpiPUkm_J4ZPBejUsO7mMDnl3u2Bq7oSbyiOz_EMta7zX-7jPi-nHdjEBQqAa72EtNG_9RivrUzvHZHY1tbl/s200/irritated.jpg" border="0" /></a> Mostly I work in complete solitude. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Strange hours of the night or beautiful Saturdays when everyone else is trying to wrest some leisure out of their weekend.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I listen to my ipod. Sometimes I try to work out harmony parts to my own songs. Other people's songs too. Not just vocal lines either; interesting instrumental ideas that I hear in my head. Sometimes I will slip one ear off of my headphones and concentrate and listen and sing out some little bit. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I am more likely to belt out something that I am pretty sure won't work. A peculiar interval or jagged melody line. Something weird. Gotta hear it out loud. "No. That wouldn't work" But sometimes it does.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>But it is only when I am singing the most stratospherically high and warbly parts. Totally wordless and tremulously nonsensical. That is when I will turn a corner and find a slightly alarmed doctor in my building.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>This has happened like three times in the past month.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Also, I submitted this picture to the basenji rescue people for inclusion in their calender.<br /></div><br /><div></div><br />Unstaged (you can't make a basenji stage anything).So sweet, it could put you into a sugar coma.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_fbJzWlt3QNUZgEt75D2psmLKjfrVvT3xNWKeblHH2M3-LiOhE3KtFz9bZXAdLX4Q0yrHjkhLzv8ziAxBEIKVKlCekDqVf_vjnUkcQsTJq6akK7iXflhdepsVuh6PeHQ-pK7Tk-BE5Eg/s1600-h/Love.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180824848807262322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_fbJzWlt3QNUZgEt75D2psmLKjfrVvT3xNWKeblHH2M3-LiOhE3KtFz9bZXAdLX4Q0yrHjkhLzv8ziAxBEIKVKlCekDqVf_vjnUkcQsTJq6akK7iXflhdepsVuh6PeHQ-pK7Tk-BE5Eg/s320/Love.jpg" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-76125447859776053152008-03-15T23:22:00.006-05:002008-12-08T18:06:10.811-06:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNz1zbURTQVDAPQOeJv-m-DVVkphLlPVHjrtAAMbGUaYWKmSB9M1fMlx_B1si09gHD3iKCGn4lI4N_b5Yhev53RqjlhFJWpOfWBaOpXZm28wx20nORKkeUszy61CrQ7Fgsoz0R0A-wdHIr/s1600-h/BestOfBootie2007_CD.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178192615036501778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNz1zbURTQVDAPQOeJv-m-DVVkphLlPVHjrtAAMbGUaYWKmSB9M1fMlx_B1si09gHD3iKCGn4lI4N_b5Yhev53RqjlhFJWpOfWBaOpXZm28wx20nORKkeUszy61CrQ7Fgsoz0R0A-wdHIr/s200/BestOfBootie2007_CD.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I like mash-ups. Lots.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Well, I like good mash-ups. There are bad/boring ones certainly. The good ones are definitely an example of two things coming together and forming a star (Eliot?)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The best source I have found is the Best of Bootie series.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="http://www.bootieusa.com/bestofbootie2005/">http://www.bootieusa.com/bestofbootie2005/</a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="http://www.bootieusa.com/bestofbootie2006/">http://www.bootieusa.com/bestofbootie2006/</a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="http://www.bootieusa.com/bestofbootie2007/">http://www.bootieusa.com/bestofbootie2007/</a></div><div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>It's free too. Right on!</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>All three years are good. To get you started I particularly recommend the Billy Joel/Jay-Z mash-up. </div><div></div><div></div><div>You don't think Billy Joel would have made a good rapper? You're going to find out how wrong you are. Seriously. It's a shock.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-78764051456912593122008-03-08T23:04:00.007-06:002008-12-08T18:06:11.422-06:00The Blankenblogger<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT9HHz591psnk611rdfQ6OJoX0d8lFRiMVMyNhM00CE-VFYIiQtgf6SBUjaMYYYEln1UGyCLL50G26DJakxco90L3iCBNiLR1yV7fIXMX_NiNSd9ACNTT2V5CG3l7d7lgG2Q3shqnkDteV/s1600-h/blank4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175782567152795394" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT9HHz591psnk611rdfQ6OJoX0d8lFRiMVMyNhM00CE-VFYIiQtgf6SBUjaMYYYEln1UGyCLL50G26DJakxco90L3iCBNiLR1yV7fIXMX_NiNSd9ACNTT2V5CG3l7d7lgG2Q3shqnkDteV/s200/blank4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3oAMp-WPZ88HuT02bE3h8BjqCiqQvnPHm_Lc4yIRslbXKl9EhL98UNXm8OLEnQuYsQDTU8uPAfhrcqZLTZ9HRZ4y7dk3mhuF-703AnZf9Pskyrei7KHhQIImGcxlTgge-jSekMI86MyOg/s1600-h/blank3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175782214965477106" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3oAMp-WPZ88HuT02bE3h8BjqCiqQvnPHm_Lc4yIRslbXKl9EhL98UNXm8OLEnQuYsQDTU8uPAfhrcqZLTZ9HRZ4y7dk3mhuF-703AnZf9Pskyrei7KHhQIImGcxlTgge-jSekMI86MyOg/s200/blank3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTUPuguvV-bcpWXS_ZKsqcqedEeIHIEBFu1bj1mZGrPypwxWG3C0-0206-cq7arGevGetaIT2FCqZIbR1h_z0BXNbYGZv-erb3wdAm1cPZDElIjM0FNq72LjtsFECiSp0Ure7VxaACkK3e/s1600-h/blank2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175781763993911010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTUPuguvV-bcpWXS_ZKsqcqedEeIHIEBFu1bj1mZGrPypwxWG3C0-0206-cq7arGevGetaIT2FCqZIbR1h_z0BXNbYGZv-erb3wdAm1cPZDElIjM0FNq72LjtsFECiSp0Ure7VxaACkK3e/s200/blank2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmuGiRC5nVQHUxjUG74dqcazRK-vuZge7CGNF6_GqPJs63LIzPrZXmDtk44iXFhIY6IexQzsSiD-90NLsauS8w76aUfJLoKglV35nTXyXbJuCe3LYK9cVkrzQstvcDwTjPV4l3Ygk3tsTX/s1600-h/blank.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175780754676596418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmuGiRC5nVQHUxjUG74dqcazRK-vuZge7CGNF6_GqPJs63LIzPrZXmDtk44iXFhIY6IexQzsSiD-90NLsauS8w76aUfJLoKglV35nTXyXbJuCe3LYK9cVkrzQstvcDwTjPV4l3Ygk3tsTX/s200/blank.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>I think we're all pretty happy that we can reach out and touch K Paddy B online. If you are curious to know what he is up to in DE check him out here:<a href="http://theblankenblogger.blogspot.com/">http://theblankenblogger.blogspot.com/</a></div><br /><br /><div>Above is what became of his former place of residence on Wood in Blm. They totally knocked that whole block down. Just piles of muddy rubble.</div><div></div><div>I've seen plans for the proposed statue. Kevin in his cut-off shorts and glow in the dark basket ball with his arm around Tommy, fuschia shorts and flip-flops. Aw.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8824171238716189382.post-72504070897603562352008-02-20T12:54:00.003-06:002008-12-08T18:06:12.278-06:00Pond Ogre<div>There is this crazy dude who lives by the pond where we take our daily walk. He only appears at intervals long enough for me to forget he exists. In this way he maximizes his capacity to surprise the shit out of me.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Late last summer he came out of the little house where he lives and screamed,</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>" HEY MAN! 'R2D2' "</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>He actually made air quotes. He is a really big dude and when he yells at me he shatters the arcadian calm of my quiet little neighborhood.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The spring before that he came jogging up beside me and asked to pat my dog. This was pre- Cisco; just me and Shiva. He didn't seem crazy at all until he gingerly reached out and gave Shiva a quick touch on the back and ran away.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Yesterday he emerged into the cold to holler</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"ASS DISPLAYED IS ASS LOST!"</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>This cracked up Melanie who was walking Shiva with me and Cisco.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I don't like this guy much, but I am not worried because Cisco is learning the ancient martial art of Mop-Fu:</div><br /><div></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk-jVhhHyqFAgXex7PiZKhlKXPo8Rub1bQ0y1_JyxLVLQvFVn_AXmWtImUXazRuEp7TgKyJCeDV6HfPe3J8cYYmQ6pvFQsKC-P-GE3Oor0xDuZFSsSrC-I-vRLgF4yFoJ1zeSEi243XOCY/s1600-h/bisfu.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169141965016288978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk-jVhhHyqFAgXex7PiZKhlKXPo8Rub1bQ0y1_JyxLVLQvFVn_AXmWtImUXazRuEp7TgKyJCeDV6HfPe3J8cYYmQ6pvFQsKC-P-GE3Oor0xDuZFSsSrC-I-vRLgF4yFoJ1zeSEi243XOCY/s200/bisfu.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeVwvsvGfX0JH2AilDsZ1YFXaFV-wWcVh3Y20DJVc5f5bFAcHt-V5R-f_1X0Mf7dSAjb2uSKlCIcZM-r7Ci5ZJxSco-ra0Kwl2_-P1YWSk639u8CU42A2YO8Pmy_bR1ubKJpHQeKXEbZ-0/s1600-h/bisfu2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169141982196158178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeVwvsvGfX0JH2AilDsZ1YFXaFV-wWcVh3Y20DJVc5f5bFAcHt-V5R-f_1X0Mf7dSAjb2uSKlCIcZM-r7Ci5ZJxSco-ra0Kwl2_-P1YWSk639u8CU42A2YO8Pmy_bR1ubKJpHQeKXEbZ-0/s200/bisfu2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDodlazZw8QKUbWAKJzKsQQL6MV5vGIt7NYSZX7BpPYSeZF2M0qX-6lEM3bKqdIG37m0_L6uIOnyezHbYAdl849yw84dxb4o-B_e8wpj8GHUzarrDbxM_KqMAMJpEFZmk_9RQGb0Vlpo7/s1600-h/bisfu4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169141990786092786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDodlazZw8QKUbWAKJzKsQQL6MV5vGIt7NYSZX7BpPYSeZF2M0qX-6lEM3bKqdIG37m0_L6uIOnyezHbYAdl849yw84dxb4o-B_e8wpj8GHUzarrDbxM_KqMAMJpEFZmk_9RQGb0Vlpo7/s200/bisfu4.jpg" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2