Soundtrack

A few weeks before Sophia was born, I started an iPod Playlist for the delivery room. I asked Jen for her input and she said "None of that arty horseshit…this is about me" or something to that affect. So, I started through our library looking for things that Jen would love and that wouldn't be horrible for me. After just an hour or so I had 115 songs which I thought would be more than enough to get us through a night in the hospital. I shuffled them up and dumped them on my iPod.

Even by Jen's account, the pregnancy was fairly easy. She had her share of exhaustion and the usual side effects, but had largely been able to avoid the more serious complications that are common. Still, at over 40 weeks, she had been experiencing a few days of feeling really rough and convinced her doctor to see her a few days earlier than their scheduled appointment. After two hours of examination, ultrasounds, and stress tests, Jen's doc told her to get her bag and check in to the hospital at 8:00 that night. Jen cried in relief, knowing that very soon she'd be feeling better…one way or another.

I'll spare you all the push by push replay, but there were a few things worth noting. First, Jen was amazing. From the very beginning until the moment we watched Sophie gulp down her first air conditioned breath, she was perfect. Also, the staff we worked with was great. Jen's nurse laughed at our jokes (we always have jokes), got down to business when needed, and was Jen's champion the whole way. Also, she got down with the Prince that was playing on the iPod.

And that takes us back to the Playlist. We had the music going in the background as we sat in the darkened room watching Jen's contractions on the monitor ("Ooooh, daayuuum…that was a biggun"). It started with Manchester Orchestra's "I Can Feel a Hot One", but then despite the fact that I had shuffled the songs, it mostly went from artist to artist playing songs in blocks alphabetically. We cruised through lots of "B Bands" (Band of Horses, Beck, Ben Folds, The Beach Boys) and then the Garden State soundtrack. We napped through The Mountain Goats and Mojave 3. The nurse came in to get things busy about the time The Postal Service started playing. The moment Jen pushed for the first time, "When Doves Cry" filled the room. Jen finished with the first push and we looked at each other, laughing at the absurdity of giving birth with Prince as the soundtrack. "Pop Life", "Raspberry Beret", and "I Would Die 4 U", one song after another Jen pushed and then we laughed (yes, she had an epidural). The nurse boogied (though professionally) and we talked about how our Twin Cities based friends would be home-town-proud. The assembled grandmothers in the room were less interested, standing on the sidelines with shaking hands clutching their cameras.

Finally the Prince wound down to be replaced with REM, and on Jen pushed. I kid you not, toward the end, with Sophie starting to appear, "American Girl" by Tom Petty was the song playing. And then, finally, Sophie was pushed/pulled into life on the outside. I cut the cord (symbolism be damned), and she was placed kicking and fussing on Jen's chest all the while Wilco's "Please Be Patient With Me" played softly in the background. We toweled off her little arms and legs, alternately amazed and terrified of her, and everything else faded into the background.

I know it might be a little obsessive to pay that much attention to what music was playing and at what time, but a lot of strong memories I have are linked to the music that was playing at the time.

I remember I was sitting in Tyson Downey's CRX in a parking lot outside of Kroger in Brazil Indiana and he was telling me about a song he had heard for the first time. When the weather was just right you could pick up a station out of Indianapolis (not without some static, of course) and this Indy station had promised to play this new song again before 10:00. We sat there in the car chain smoking, our talking stopping as each new song would start to play until they finally played Radiohead's "Creep" and my world got a little bit bigger.

I remember the moment I realized my first marriage was over and a song called "Kerosene Hat" by Cracker was playing in the car. I rushed to turn it off as I drove no where, not wanting an awful moment to ruin a great song for me. (It didn't. I still love that song.)

And I remember walking the streets of Carbon, Indiana when I was probably 13 and coming up on a house that was playing Frampton's "Do you Feel Like We Do". We sat outside on the sidewalk listening to it in the summer night and I remember thinking that it was the best song ever written.

Good and bad, a lot of my memories are wrapped up what was on the radio, and I don't think that's unique at all. Still, I have to admit a pure personal pleasure in being able to tell Sophie one day that she came into this world while listening to Wilco. Since she's a captive audience, I plan on spending lots of time with her in front of the turntable as soon as my mother in law vacates the area that has become partially my den and partially Jen's craft room. I bet Weezy is glad Grandma Helen has been here to protect her so far...

The Low End

I was about 16 when I got a single ticket to see The Frogs, Swervedriver, and The Smashing Pumpkins at The Newport Music Hall in Columbus. I was off to the left of the stage, and when the Pumpkins finally came out, D'arcy took up residence in front of me. She drank straight from the bottle, and I was immediately in love.

Ever since then, I've been drawn to strong women bass players. There's just something about them that pulls me in. I'd take any of them up on the chance to hang out and down some beers over road stories. In no particular order, here are a few of my favorite female bass players from some of my favorite bands.


D'arcy - Smashing Pumpkins

I hear she's a farmer now of sorts in Michigan or something like that. Seeing them play Mayonnaise live was the highlight of my young teen life.

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Kim Gordon - Sonic Youth

Simply one of the coolest people to walk out on stage. I dare you to try to take your eyes off her. Even though she's dropped the bass as of late, she has to be included.

Kim once said "People pay to watch people believe in themselves". You're goddamn right.
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Debbie Googe - My Bloody Valentine

On the rare occasion they play out live, they hand out ear plugs at the door because the wall of sound coming from the stage is too much for most people. Concertgoers who pass on wearing the plugs have been known to stumble out of the club early, vomiting. Really. RAWK!
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Nikki Monniger - Silversun Pickups

Somewhere between modest and painfully shy, Nikki brings a touch of small town class to the stage. When I saw them on the last tour she sang "Creation Lake" and seemed completely taken aback by the applause like she had forgotten we were all there to see her.

---

Kim Deal - Pixies

Very few bands actually change the face of music. As far as I'm concerned, the Pixies changed everything and Kim wasn't just a background player.
In a band that changed the face of music, she was a member who changed the face of the band.

Singing Dog Records

Through some creative budgeting I found myself with a spare $100 to drop on some new music. Armed with my budgetary guidelines and a Post It Note with scrawled purchase ideas, I headed to Singing Dog Records Monday night. Jen and I had been in there looking for a shirt for her the week before, but I didn't really get to spend any time going through the racks. Now, I would.

I walk up to the guy behind the counter to ask about a record I had seen the week before but wasn't on the racks now. He digs under a pile and pulls out a Radiohead bootleg for me to look over. We chat about sound quality for a couple of minutes and then he starts laying things down on the counter.

"Here, man. You're probably going to want this too. We sold out so fast the last time..."

He was talking to me like I shopped here all the time. I don't. He acted like we'd chatted in depth about the music that's important to me. We hadn't. A bit amused and a bit insulted by his presumption I looked down at the fresh copy of the new Dead Weather double LP he had put in front of me. Knowing the record was on the Post It Note in my pocket, I picked it up and tucked it under my arm with my Radiohead record.

"Oh, and here." he said laying a 7" single on the counter. It only took me 3 seconds to realize it was the new Modest Mouse numbered release before I grabbed it and added it to my stack. I hadn't been in the store 5 minutes and already this guy had spent almost my entire wad for me before I even started going through the racks. Realizing I had met my match, I quickly walked away before he unearthed something else he knew I couldn't live without.

The new Wilco record and some old Dinosaur Jr later and I'm heading back up towards the counter where a little old lady has taken a chair by the door.

"Oh Jeff, I haven't heard The Animals in so long. I remember when this song came out. Could you check to see if you have that for me on vinyl."

"Sure, Mary. Just let me take care of this gentleman first." he said nodding in the direction of a young kid in baggy jeans. "What can I help you find?" he asked the kid.

"I'm looking for the new Kanye on vinyl."

Mary spoke up immediately. "I love his new record! That's my sad record right now."

Smiling to myself I looked over at Mary. She was pushing 70, with long straight gray hair and teeth so black I thought her mouth may be full of ink. She played with her cane, bouncing it on the dusty floor between her feet while nodding along to "Girl Named Sandoz" from The Animals.

We chatted for a moment about the records I had put on the counter to pay for. And she told me she needed to hurry home so she could catch Silversun Pickups on The World Cafe.

"They're so good live, I just can't miss it." she said. "You know, they're coming to town soon."

I wanted to hug her right there on the spot.

Jeff came back to the counter where I paid $102.36 for my fix and I headed out the door hoping that it's not too long before I got to see them both again.

Mix Tape

I had been thinking about doing a music post for awhile, but it's really not that great unless you can hear what I'm hearing. So, I decided to put together a mix tape just for you (yes, you). Pretend we're both fifteen and there's all kinds of things I wish I could say to you, but I just don't have the guts. So instead, I sit down with my dual cassette deck, and let drug addled artists do it for me.

CLICK HERE to download the 24 track collection I put together. You'll be taken to Sendspace. If you've never used Sendspace before, here's what to do: At the bottom of the page (under a bunch of ads), you'll see a file link calld CD.zip. Click on that, then simply save the file, unzip, and listen.

If you like a song, you should really consider buying the album. Click on the song name, and you'll be taken to Amazon where you can add it to your cart. With a handful of exceptions, these are independent artists and they could use the gas money. I'm just sayin' is all.

1 - Letter From Home - DJ Shadow
"Everything went wrong."

I've put together a few mixes in the past couple of years, and like beginning and ending them with Letter From Home (I & II) the same way DJ Shadow opened and closed his album "The Private Press". The two tracks are a frozen moment in time for this family, and we don't get to hear nearly enough. They set a great tone.

2 - The District Sleeps Alone Tonight - The Postal Service
"I'm staring at the asphalt wondering what's buried underneath."

Ben Gibbard, known for his work with Death Cab for Cutie, worked on this project and I really like this stuff much more than output from his "steady job". Musically, I could imagine them opening up for 1988 era Pet Shop Boys, but the writing is so smart it makes me shake my head at times. It's a real pleasure to just sit and listen to this entire record, but this opening track kicks it off in style.

3 - Like a Vibration - The Whigs
"My reputation is hanging around my neck. It's hanging around in bars."

Three piece rock and roll from simple Southerners that doesn't sound small town. The Whigs are just a great loud rock band. Go see them live.

4 - Squares - The Beta Band
"So, miles and miles of squares. Where's the feeling there?"

This is a band I love when they're in a mix. To sit and listen to a full album is difficult for me because they're a bit too hypnotic. By the end, I feel groggy and slow as if I slept way too long. We were given the ability to bob our heads to a beat because the Great Creator knew this song would come along.

5 - In My Room - The Beach Boys
"But I won't be afraid."

One of the most beautiful songs ever written. Ever.

6 - Get it Together - The Beastie Boys

"The phone is ringing. Oh my God."

I always associate classic Beastie Boys records with the time in my life when they were released. When "Ill Communication" hit the racks I was having lots of fun and I still get a taste of that, even in my cubicle.

7 - Strange Desire - The Black Keys
"I don't wanna go to hell, but if I do, it'll be cuz of you."

There are two bands in this mix that a particular friend turned me onto, and this was the first. The Black Keys are two guys from Ohio who have amassed critical acclaim, sold more than a few records, and still drive their own van to gigs. Beautiful stripped down blues and a fierce live show. If you like this, go buy everything these guys have done.

8 - V.F.W. - The Dead Milkmen
"We're all veterans…"

When I was in the fifth grade, a bunch of my friends sent off a mail-order form and weeks later received their black and white Dead Milkmen shirts. I was so jealous, but didn't have the money for one of my own. We would spend our winter recesses under one of the work tables in our classroom listening to "Big Lizard..." quietly so the profanity wouldn't be overheard and get us in trouble. The Dead Milkmen were my first exposure to punk and they still give me the feeling of naughty joy that I got the first time I heard them tell me that we're all veterans of a fucked up world.

9 - Send a Little Love Token - The Duke Spirit
"You should read these words I bet you never heard."

When I think of my favorite music, The Duke Spirit don't come up for some reason. Every time one of their songs is played as part of my shuffle I'm reminded how good they sound though, and will usually have to go listen to the "Neptune" record from start to finish.

10 - Handlebars - Flobots
"I can hand out a million vaccinations or let 'em all die in exasperation."

Our local independent radio station (WWCD 101.1) played this song, and I was on iTunes downloading it that night (at the time, the album hadn't been rereleased in its current format, and owning a copy of the CD would have set me back $45). I liked it so much that I sent it or played it to everyone I could. The world is a better place with Flobots tending the light at the end of their own particular tunnel.

11 - Exchange - Massive Attack
"_________________ ."

When I was a young, a bunch of us kids would be packed into the back of my Aunt Elta's station wagon and we'd go to Lake Hudson near Granville, OH to go swimming. They had old fashioned speakers (you know, the ones that looked like megaphones) that they would play music through when not making announcements. The music they played was restrained, picked because it wouldn't be annoying or offensive to anyone. This song reminds me of those 1960's instrumentals that Lake Hudson was so fond of. It's all about lake water, the smell of popcorn, and learning to swim.

12 - What's Going On - Marvin Gaye
"Right on, baby."

I didn't come to like Marvin until I was an adult, but it's music that I wish I was nostalgic about. I would love to be able to tell you a story about how my mom turned me on to Marvin when I was just a kid, and how it sparked discussion about where this kind of music came from, and how we came to hear it all the way out in rural Ohio. But yeah, that shit never happened.

13 - Paper Planes (Remix for the Children of Adrock) - M.I.A.
"No one on the corner has swagger like us."

Chris Wilbourn, Heiruspecs MC extraordinaire, told me about a song that he couldn't get out of his head. (This was a year or two back, long before Slumdog hit the screen). I had recently sent him some Flobots stuff, and he returned the favor with the album version of M.I.A.'s Paper Planes. A couple days later I picked up the album and a remix disc and immediately latched on to Adrock's version.

14 - You or Your Memory - The Mountain Goats
"St Joseph's Baby Aspirin, Bartles & James, and you."

I worked with a young law student who first played The Mountain Goats for me. It took some time for me to come around, but once I did I was hooked. This is by far my favorite album they've done, and one of my favorite songs off it.

15 - Oh, Me - Nirvana
"I don't have to think. I only have to do it."

A few weeks ago, Sound Opinions did a show where they shared their favorite live albums of all time. Nirvana's MTV Unplugged in New York made their list, and it makes mine. Originally a Meat Puppets tune, the version played here is the absolute highlight of the record. I remember being so broke when this was released that I had to go through my CD collection to find stuff to trade in just to get enough cash so I could buy it. I don't think I listened to anything but this record for three months after that day.

16 - Punk Rock - Mogwai
"Do you understand what I'm talking about?"

A 1977 recording of Iggy Pop lecturing on the beauty of Punk with master instrumentalists Mogwai setting the tone. God bless Iggy Pop. God bless Mogwai.

17 - Trunk Fulla Amps - Self
"Like Glen Danzig…MOTHER!"

"Self" is actually one dude recording music using nothing but toys. Seriously. Listen, and you'll hear it. The crunchy guitars are made of plastic and marketed to 8 year olds. The keyboards are kiddie Casios, and there's plenty of tinkling, blurping, and beeping provided by a literal army of toys. Add profanity laced finger pointing, and I'm hooked.

18 - Ode To LRC - Band of Horses
"The world is such a wonderful place."

Beautiful rock music created by vocal clinicians. I love this band, and really hope they tour again soon so I can go see them.

19 - JC - Sonic Youth
"All the men want a charming whore."

I love Sonic Youth. I know they're an acquired taste, and many of you have already decided if you love or hate them. Because I love so much of what they do, it was really hard to pick a track to put in here, so I thought I'd go with one of Kim's songs that I thought was a bit more accessible than some of their other stuff. No one creates a wall of sound like SY.

20 - Wolf Like Me - TV On the Radio
"My heart's aflame, my body's strained, but God I like it."

Critics seem to love these guys, which I find odd since they're hard to classify. If you ever take the time to try to figure them out, they wind up surprising you at every turn. My wife hates the vast majority of the music I love. Chances are, the more important an artist is to me personally, the more she hates them. It's instinctive, and never malicious, but it always hurts in a way she'll never really understand. TV On the Radio have the dubious distinction of being the band she hates more than anyone.

"Who are these guys?" she'll ask.
"TV On the Radio".
"That's the worst shit I've ever heard. They make me love Sonic Youth."

21 - There's No Secrets This Year - Silversun Pickups
"I'll tell you a secret."

I understand all the complaints people make that SSPU are too derivative of Smashing Pumpkins and My Bloody Valentine, I just don't care. I love big warm fuzzy guitars. I love strong female bass players. I love noisy freakouts. SSPU gives me all of this without fail.

22 - Handshake Drugs (Live) - Wilco
"I was buried in sound."

I had "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot", and had listened to it some, but it never grabbed me in a big way. A friend that I talk music with every time we get together kept rhapsodizing about how amazing Wilco is, and I'd have to admit that I just didn't get them. I saw that PBS was going to show an Austin City Limits episode taped shortly after the release of their "Sky Blue Sky" album, and I recorded it. That performance opened my eyes, and a big part of the discovery was "Handshake Drugs". Nothing is more fun than a chipper song about scoring.

23 - Videotape - Radiohead
"This is one for the good days."

Funeral ready.

24 - Letter From Home (2) - DJ Shadow
"It look like everywhere I go I draw heat. Period."

You're damn right.

Sunday. That's My Fun Day. My I Don't Have to Run Day.

Slept in, and then stayed in bed to read for a bit. Jen heard the pages turning from the other room (seriously) and came in asking what we were going to have for breakfast. After realizing we had nothing, she left me to my book.

After I downed a a strange breakfast (a salad with strawberries and tofu), we went to go see Last House on the Left. As a kid, I watched the first one amazed and scared and disgusted. This time was different. Movies have come a long way since Wes Craven first made his grainy little exploitation movie, and that was reflected in this new version. Not much of a remake, though there are some familiar moments. The one thing I was waiting for (oral sex gone horribly wrong) was missing, but wouldn't have fit in the film. Still, having things that didn't fit didn't stop them from putting in a death by microwave. I didn't care. I liked it.

Funny thing about that microwave...Jen and I had the place completely to ourselves. No other soul shared the theater. We made it all the way through the movie until the very end when two loud older women came into the room.

"Well, the place isn't very crowded yet!"

"Where do you want to sit?"

This went of for a moment or two before Jen snapped and asked them to be quiet as we were trying to watch the last couple minutes of our film.

"Oh, sorry" they said four times each. We said "That's fine" and resisted the urge to add "Now shut the fuck up."

The ladies made their way to the row behind us and settled in with the occasional whisper. It occurred to me that they didn't seem like the key demographic for a movie like this, but was more surprised that they were willing to watch the end of the film before they had made it through the first hour and a half.

On screen, a man's head messily exploded in a microwave making Jen and I chuckle to ourselves, but it was quiet behind for the first time since the two women had made their way into their seats. The credits came up and Jen and I stepped out into the lighted hallway of our local megaplex. Walking away, I looked over my shoulder to see that the digital sign above our theater door that shows what movie is showing had changed to "Confessions of a Shopoholic".

That brought me so much joy that these two ladies were were easily 35 minutes early for their movie had their rudeness repaid by inadvertently watching some guy's head come apart in a bubbling spray.

Enjoy your movie, ladies.

We rounded out the day by getting newly purchased produce chopped and sliced and ready for the week while singing along with an old Eagles live album. I'm not a big fan of The Eagles, but Jen and I both grew up with them, and we know all the words. Sometimes, that's just what you need.

Now, we're literally sitting back to back in the den, listening to a Band of Horses record and having a drink. Soon, it'll be another salad and some bad TV. Can't wait. Really.

Funeral By Numbers

2 Days.
1150 miles.
6 dirty public bathrooms
1 awesome iPod Playlist.
2 breaks to walk dogs, feed dogs, pet dogs, and pee.
1 small cooler filled with
-6 cans Coke Zero (fuelled by diet colas)
-1 ham sandwich
-2 pieces Light String Cheese
-2 Light Yogurt cups

2 boxes Jelly Belly assorted jelly beans.
2 funeral viewings.
7 pairs of wax lips from Farm & Fleet.
8-10 beers.
1 Butt Sex "shooter".
1 crying, laughing, happy, and sad wife.
1 hangover.
17 hours in the driver's seat.
1 numb ass.
1 funeral.
1 graveside service.
1 family luncheon.
1 mother crying as she says good-bye.
1 return home.
4 hours sleep.

The Whigs, Dead Confederate, and Trances Arc

Just got back from the show at The Basement, and it was so much fun. I really dug all three bands sets which is kind of rare. I'm not that snobby really, it's just out of three bands one of them is bound to suck. They didn't.

Even though Trances Arc have one of the worst names going in Indie Rock, they were so much better than the tracks I found on line led me to believe they would be. They were a really solid live band, and it seems like they might be more at home on the stage as opposed to the studio. The same thing could be said of Dead Confederate.

DC has been touring on their album for a while now. They've done some TV (Conan) and I think they even got mentioned as one of Rolling Stone's Ten Bands to Watch (or some shit like that). They are a throwback to so much of the music I love. Their grunge hooks and garbled lyrics would get drowned in My Bloody Valentine swells and Slowdive-like phaser walls. Lots of other comparisons to bands like Nirvana or Alt-Country outfits are out there, but to me they sounded drenched in old school shoegaze. At one point, their guitarist was making scratching noises that immediately made me think of Sonic Youth, and then they went into a cover of what I think is probably my favorite song of all time, SY's Theresa's Sound World. It wasn't as good as watching Sonic Youth do it, but if they're not in town you could do worse than Dead Confederate.

Finally, The Whigs hit the stage. The Whigs are a three piece that sound twice their size. A great deal of their sound's size has to be with their drummer Julian Dorio. There were times tonight that I saw his hands come back over his shoulders and he would twist his body to get more leverage on the stick to bring it down as hard as he could. I don't think I've ever seen anyone hit like him live. When they played "Right Hand on My Heart" a (a song I've heard a little too often) and the crescendos built to the feedback freakout ending I had chills. So damn good.

Well, that's it for me. I'm supposed to be up in less than four hours to go to work. For those of you who just check in from time to time, I'm sorry this has been so music heavy lately. I'll get back to my boring cubicle life soon.

Hugs and Kisses,

Stephen

Sub Pop Saves the Day

A month or so ago, I ordered a couple of 7" singles from Sub Pop. A week later an over sized package arrived from them, with a full release of The Postal Service's Give Up along with a single for a band I had never heard of called Wooden Shjps. While I was happy to get the Postal Service record (something I was going to order anyway) and I was digging on the new Wooden Shjps disc, I had no complaints, but I still really wanted what I ordered to begin with. So, I emailed Sub Pop using the Customer Service address on the website:

1/17

Hi, I got my records in the mail today, but it wasn't what I ordered. I had ordered a Band of Horses 7" and Postal Service 7" and instead got "Give Up" and a Wooden Shjps 7". Not that I'm unhappy with what was sent, it just wasn't what I had ordered.

So, in order to get what I originally sent over in order 28140 do I need to ship back the two records you sent? I'm not trying to take advantage of the situation, just want to know how to make it right.

Hugs and Kisses,

Stephen Merryman

In response, all I received was silence. So, I broke down and reordered the records I had wanted originally. I received them, and was a happy man. I spent a little more than I had planned on, but got some cool stuff in return. Then, out of the darkness:

3/5

Stephen!

I just found this over a month old email from you in my junk mail. Sorry about that! Anyway, that’s a huge bummer. I’ll send you the correct records. You’ll see them soon. Please listen to the incorrect records if you haven’t already. They are yours as a token of a colossal mistake on our part.

Thanks,Sam


Since I had the records they had missed the first round, I didn't want to get them again. So, I responded:

Hi,

Since I knew you're all fundamentally sound folks, I decided I could wait no longer and submitted a second order for the records I had ordered the first round, so you don't have to resend them. Shit happens. It's fine. If you'd rather, you're welcome to send me a single or two of whatever you think is interesting to replace it (seriously...I'm open to suggestions), or if you send nothing, we'll still part friends. I can't help it...I'm your doormat.

Love,

Stephen

Yesterday, I opened the mail to find three new records waiting for me, and they are amazing. I received limited edition colored vinyl singles for Mark Sultan (a guy I had never heard of before, but who's amazing, and No Age (which may turn out to be my new favorite band). The third was a record I already have, but I'm sure I'll get to pass it along to someone in need sooner or later.

On the invoice, Sam had quickly written "Enjoy the records. XOXO".

Never have I felt so completely loved by a company. It helps that I love so much of the music that they've released over the years (Fleet Foxes, Band of Horses, Low, Mudhoney, The Postal Service, Nirvana, etc.) but now I'm totally endeared to them as well. Great music and hugs and kisses? What more could a fella ask for?

I Hate You For Being Me

I don't know when it was that I started hating people so much. You take an average person, and they don't mind other people around, hell most of them even like it. For me though, it lately seems that I have to force myself to be in a crowd. Saturday night, Jen and I ventured out to see Ben Folds, and I found myself getting angry at things that I should have been able to let go of.

First off, we get to the venue almost two hours before the doors open. We do this because the show is sold out, and we love getting our usual spot on the upper deck. There are tables and bar stools that ring the upper level, and it's a great spot to sit and see the entire stage. While you don't have the amazing view of being right up front, you get a great view of the whole band and the plusses of a seat combined with easy access to the bar and bathrooms. In short, it's where the old people go. The thing is, there are literally less than 30 of these stools, so if you want one, you roll in early.

So, I was pretty angry when a lady and her two teenage kids tried to cut into line in front of us. They had been hanging out under an awning while we got rained on, and now that they were close to opening the doors, they had come over and tried to push their way into the line. I avoid confrontation at almost every turn, but I didn't this time. We exchanged words. Bottom line is they didn't get in in front of us, but I felt like a dick. That is, until the couple in front of us befriended us and we spent the remaining half hour in line chatting them up about our mutual hatred of people. I love people who hate people.

We get in, grab our amazing seats, and set up camp. It's expected that the people who roll in later are going to crush in to your space to see what's going on, but the large woman who was insistent on laying her boobs on my lap while talking loudly to her friends from the Marketing Department was not appreciated.

An add for a local on-line school comes up on the screen. "Who's the idiot who did that in four colors? Don't they know that just triples their marketing costs?"

I'm tempted to turn my head to ask why it doesn't quadruple their costs, but am afraid of taking a nipple to the eye.

"Lost is just getting too far out there now. That show is just crazy."

Again, I'm tempted to turn to ask why the Polar Bear on a moving deserted island hadn't given her pause, but time travel was out of the question. Again, the nipple threat holds me in check.

The opening band starts to play, and it takes about three measures of music for her to decide they are not worth her time, and so turns to continue her conversation more loudly as to project over the four guys on stage trying to earn a living. She begins each sentence with "That's interesting, because..."

"That's interesting, because I knew a girl who dated the girl from that department. She said she was in charge of the equipment, if you know what I mean!"

"That's interesting, because I saw him the other day on The Daily Show and he just wasn't that funny."

Jen and I threw our nipple fears to the wind and timed some hate glances her way that eventually silenced the running conversations, which would then be picked up in the spaces between songs.

"Did you see that episode of Saturday Night Live when the guy with the hair did the...Oh, I'll tell you in a minute."

That I could live with.

Eventually, The Miniature Tigers made it through their set. Admittedly, they were not that exciting, and I found myself wondering if it was just the woman's loudness that was making me angry. It occurred to me that while she was recounting the shows she watched, the things that made her laugh, her complaining that she had to stand in once place for an extended period of time, and her telling her plans of witty Facebook status updates she planned to make over the next few days that these were all discussions that I could easily have been involved in myself.

Seriously, when she started talking about Facebook, I shuddered thinking to myself that I'll never log on to that goddamned site again. No way would that woman and I share any singular enjoyment.

When she moved her way up beside me to lean on the ledge because her hips were hurting her from standing in one place too long, I was embarrassed for her at the same time I was grateful for my bar stool. There I was sitting at a show, disliking a stranger beside me because of how much she resembled me. And the weird thing is, by and large I do like myself. So why would it bother me to see myself in someone else? We should have been buying each other shots and hugging after every song.

Thankfully, Ben and the band hit the stage shortly after and was completely amazing. I forgot about the lady and her nipples (at least while they weren't on my lap or scraping my arm) and had a great time. I loved being part of the crowd as they sang the horn parts from "Army" and served as the choir for "Not the Same". We all laughed at the same times, all got quiet when the band played "Cologne", and all left with smiles on our faces. I liked people a little bit more, and all the bitterness seemed to have gone.

Then yesterday, Jen and I are hanging around Merryman Manor watching some DVR'd Lost. Two minutes into the episode I get my bearings back and realize they are doing one of their patented "fast forward" plot maneuvers, when I open my mouth to say that the show is getting pretty far fetched these days.

Son of a bitch.

The Plague

I knew I was doomed.

Jen brings a buffet of illness home with her each day after dealing with parents and students and other staff members who deal with parents and students. And that's to say nothing on my little team of six at the office who one by one have become with infected with clotted mucus, cemented sinuses, and swollen narrowed throats.

I washed my hands. I avoided touching my lips or eyes. I bathed in foul smelling generic hand sanitizer dispensed out of the over sized 32 ounce bottle I keep on my desk. I got sick. I don't know why I bothered to fight it. I should have just licked metallic bathroom stall locks at the office and been done with it.

As a result, the last week has passed in a haze. It's been a blur of getting through my ten hour days at work, getting home to eat easily prepared dinner items (veggie corn dogs are good, ya'll), zoning on the couch to some substandard reality television (which I dearly love, though rarely admit), and falling asleep between 8 and 9 in the evening, to get up at 4 the next morning and start it all again.

I haven't read much. I haven't written anything. And outside of the random kindness of my wife, haven't enjoyed much.

But today is different. Today, the haze feels like it has cracked a bit. I'm not in great shape yet, but it's the first day where you notice that things aren't all bad. I'm glad it happened today since I have to go stand in the cold rain for an hour or so tonight while waiting to get in to see Ben Folds play with Miniature Tigers.

Jen and I are spending zero money these days (and by zero, I mean none) so these tickets along with the ones I got for next month's Whigs show are going to have to last me a long time. Soon, there will be no entertainment for me that cannot be purchased with a leftover gift card from Christmas (thanks to the folks at Jen's school).

So, if you're bored tonight and in Columbus, come grab a scalped ticket off the street and come join us. I'll be the big geeky balding guy, most likely singing along from his usual post on the second tier of the LC's indoor room.

Bad Music for Bad People

I'm starting to get to that age where the artists I'm a fan of are starting to drift into the ether. For the most part, they are leaving "before their time", but it's begun. This year we've lost Ron Asheton (of Stooges fame) and I just read that Lux Interior passed away. I was never a huge fan, but anyone who grew up listening to hardcore or punk has brushed up against The Cramps from time to time, and there's something sad about his passing. An Ohio boy who loved horror, metal, and laughter...how can you not have a soft spot in your heart for that?

So, raise your glass. A true original has left us.


Wherever you are I hope the beer is cold and the g-strings are comfortable.






---

I spent a bit too much time reading Heiruspecs stuff online today while at work. Most of it took place during my lunch, so I won't feel too bad about it. I learned a few things today that I didn't know about the band, and saw some cool interviews. The funniest thing that I hadn't realized before is that they were on the soundtrack for Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle. I have this idea in my head that anyone who would reach that level of success would be rolling around in a bathtub full of money, and not actually be someone I know and have worked with. It's funny the picture you get in your head of what success is and how often it isn't synced with reality.

Felix, if you're reading this, know that I can't wait to get my package in the mail. I expect to post a full (honest) review of the album once I get to listen to it for a few weeks. Hope ya'll grace our state with a visit soon. If you want a place to stay, I've got a spot for you. And if you can vouch for the ruffians who comprise the rest of the outfit, our door is open to them as well. It's not fancy, but it's yours. Your couches and air mattresses await.
---

To wrap up this music based post, Jen and I have tickets to a couple of great shows coming up. First is Ben Folds towards the end of this month.

I saw Ben back on the Whatever and Ever Amen tour, and while it was a great show, the mix was a bit off. The bass was really heavy and tended to drown out the rest of the band. The new album isn't my favorite, but I can't wait to see him again as he always seems to put on a good show. There's just something about the guy that I can't help but love.

Next month I have tickets to see The Whigs. We saw them play last year at a CD101 show with Von Iva, The Duke Spirit, and The Whiles. They were the highlight for me, and I'm really excited to see them play a set on their own in a small setting. They're a three piece who sound much bigger than you'd expect.

There is a part of me that is just hungry for straight forward rock music. The Whigs go light on the frills and put on a straight forward loud show.

Should be a good time. Can not wait.

Die Hard 2, Whitesnake, and Sweet Vampire Love

Die Hard 2 is coming to a silent end while I sit in bed and type this. Silent, because I just want the TV on, but don't really want to hear it. That, and Jen is trying to sleep. Hopefully she finds the clicking of keys comforting. Most times I'm a very loud typist, almost as if I'm trying to actually push the keys through the keyboard. So good luck, Jen-E-Jen.

---

The other day Rolling Stone sent me a free issue, trying to entice me back to their little mag. It's been something like a year since I let my subscription run out, and I just never bother re-upping. For the most part, they just weren't writing about music that I cared about. They've stripped down the size of the magazine, going with a more traditional size, but everything inside seemed to be about the same.

Case and point is the face that the issue they sent me that included their five star review of the new Springsteen record. Five Stars? Now there's a man I just won't ever get. Sure, there's something appealing about The E Street Band, and their big blustery productions, but it all sounds so immediately dated and (gasp) cheesy. Now, I don't know what the new album sounds like, so I can't comment on it, but with a little luck I'll make it through '09 without the experience. If they have to say that this is the best thing he's done since the 70's, my only question is "What the fuck has the guy been doing for 35 years?"

Prompted by the magazine's arrival to go check out their website, I had to see what their list said the top albums of the year were. They had my favorite album of the year (TV On the Radio's "Dear Science") listed as number one, but quickly rounded out the top ten with an outtakes album released by Bob Dylan, John Mellencamp, Metallica, and a Coldplay album that I'm not a fan of, but need to give another chance.

I realize that lists are created in order to get people talking and arguing about what should be on it and what should be off, and so I try not to get sucked in. What it does do is point out to me how disconnected I've become from so much of what is going on in music, which is a bit paradoxical since I feel more connected to what I'm listening to than I have in years. I feel like I'm getting old and crotchety, sitting around complaining about all the pseudo-punk bands, and sensitive skinny jean clad emo boys making music these days. I don't want to be that guy, but I just can't pretend I'm into Be Your Own Pet.

Screw 'em. Where did I put my Whitesnake Greatest Hits disc? It's time to rock.

---

I've been reading the Sookie Stackhouse books by Charlaine Harris like they're going out of style. They're the books that the HBO series True Blood is based on, and my love of the show sent me to the books. The first book was a bit hard to get through, because it was essentially the first season. It was kind of tough reading what I had just seen because i have the tendency to get hung up on the differences. The second and third books have been a lot more fun.

Oh, they're complete trash. They're simple, silly, over the top, a bit girly, and a pretty good time. And, like all good junk food, they go fast.

Pre-Weekend Update

I'm like the king of retro right now. I'm sitting in the den (photos of the lair are soon forthcoming), and listening to Dark Side on the turntable. I got it as a gift for Christmas from my brother and sister in law, and it's nice to have around. It isn't something that I listen to a whole lot, but every once in awhile it's just good to kick back to. A month or so I heard that Richard Wright had passed away, and so went my hopes of a reunion show. I saw Pink Floyd in '94, but that was not the same band that created Dark Side, Animals, or Wish You Were Here. It would have been nice to see the boys put away the lawyers and kick out some songs old man style.

This week sucked. I screwed up at work early in the week leaving me with the rest of the week to work 12 hour days in my little box to atone for my sins. Oh well. One more week of 12 hour days should be enough to show that I'm really sorry and I'll never do anything like it ever again. Office life is not a fun life for me. I'm tired of Excel. I'm tired of statistics and projections. It's Friday and I'm tired of thinking about it.

In other news, I'm writing again, and for once it's going well over a longer period of time. It's fuckugly right now, but maybe over the course of the next few months it'll grow into a little something. I'm trying to keep my expectations small because I usually get all carried away talking about what I'm going to do instead of actually doing it. With that thought in mind, I'm going to stop talking about it.

Tomorrow is a morning spent reading while the good children of Central Ohio take their ACT, and then we're heading out to an engagement party. The good news is the party is at a bar, and I am way overdue for a drink or three. I haven't had a drop since New Year's Eve, and just typing these words makes me thirsty.

Sunday I have big plans to head out to an antique market that is supposed to have a ton of LP's. I expect it to mostly be Classic Rock stuff, but it would be nice to score some other Floyd albums or some Dylan. Expect and exhaustive boring list if I score some purchases. I know you can't wait...stop pretending otherwise.

Sleep Deprivation and Crazy Crazy Nights

I slept forever. After a week of mostly getting in four or five hours of sleep, I crashed for at least eight last night. I don't know what my deal is lately. It's like if I actually go to bed, I might miss something great. So, instead of sleeping and being able to approach the next day with a fresh state of mind I:


1 - Troll the Internet looking for good deals on LP's.
2 - Play games.
3 - Facebook.
4 - Attempt to fix our desktop PC (which I finally succeeded at).
5 - Reading.


So, it's not like I'm robbing myself of sleep in order to change the world or do something that is so amazing that I just can't stop to go to bed. No, I'll sit there doing one of the above mentioned five things, and fight sleep. I'll nod off, and then force myself to refocus so I can turn another page or read another paragraph. Not sure what my deal is.

I do know I need to knock it off next week though. I've got tons of shit to do at work and being a zombie doesn't help matters.

---

Jen and I caught the first showing of "Revolutionary Road" this morning. I'm not normally drawn to a movie with Leonardo, but I'm a big Kate Winslet fan (Little Children. Jesus, that's just good) and I will always watch what Sam Mendes does. It was a tough watch (especially for 11:00 in the morning) but it really was beautiful.

After our traditional post movie lunch of a cup of soup and half a sandwich we went our separate ways for a bit. Jen went for a haircut and I went record shopping. I went back to Magnolia Thunderpussy and picked up a few new LP's and then decided I'd check out another store called Ace in the Hole about ten minutes from there.

"Ace in the Hole" blew. I know what you're thinking: With a name like that, how is it possible it wasn't the coolest record store ever. Shockingly, it sucked.

While they did have a couple of cool first pressings of some more obscure Bob Dylan albums, the rest of the store was filled with enough 70's rock and Jam Band crap to fill three average stores. Since I wasn't in need of either of Asia's hit albums, I said fuck it and headed to Best Buy. I'm trying to shop local, so I'll keep trying some other stores around the area. Still, I was glad I stopped by there since they had a couple of discs I've been wanting.

And here I am, tearing it up on a crazy Friday night. I am really going to have to start doing more interesting shit to keep all three of you still reading. I'll come up with something soon.

You Get What You Pay For

The Major Label record companies have been struggling to find a new way to provide an old product. Part of the problem is, of course, that it's tough to sell something that everyone can get for free. The other thing that I keep hearing is that the major players have done a bad job of giving the people what they want. I think 2008 has been a pretty good (though not stellar) year for music, but I realize that my tastes run left of center. So, it left me wondering what is it that people really want? Is it the canned pop churned out by Timbaland's production factory? Is the it recycled metal of Hinder? The real answer is actually far more sinister than you might have thought.

Since Apple rolled out iTunes, the top three tracks sold are:

Jouney's Don't Stop Believing. 2 million sold.




















Sweet Home Alabama. 1.46 sold.




















Bohemiam Rhapsody 1.44 sold




















At .99 each, that's almost $5,000,000.00 generated for these three songs. I think The People are pretty clear about what they want. Think about it. "Don't Stop Believing" is the number one most downloaded song in iTunes history. When was the last time you actually listened to this song? Shudder.

- - - - - -

Speaking of shudders...Yesterday I start to head up to the third floor of my office, and there at the foot of the stairs is a religious tract. I read it on my way up. Basically, it let me know that I'm either bound for heaven or hell. You see, I might be a nice guy doing good things in the world (petting puppies, picking up litter, holding doors open for people so they can enter the room first, etc.) but I'm bound for damnation because I was born into sin, and the wages of sin is death.

Fortunately, there's hope for me. If you don't know the path to salvation, send me your address and I'll forward over the pamphlet to you no questions asked.

After I got upstairs I found another tract on one of the file drawers. Wow. Someone's been a busy little creepy Christian.

A couple of weeks ago, Jen and I watched a documentary on HBO about organized religion and its effect on politics and America in general. It was done by an atheist woman, so the intent and content was pretty deliberate in my opinion, but it was still pretty well done. One of the things that struck home to me was a minister who basically said that Christians were the only group of people in the US that it is ok to discriminate against. They're made fun of in television. They're portrayed as bumbling and hypocritic. I felt a bit bad about that, because I've been known to laugh at some Christian bashing myself, and there was part of me that wondered why that was OK if making fun of race or sexual orientation isn't. I decided that I'd try to be less judgmental, and adopt a more "Whatever people find peace in is good enough for me" kind of attitude.

But the tract the other morning reminded me why some Christians can be fun to laugh at. It's the recruitment...that ideology that requires them to swell their ranks that sets them apart.

Would we really feel the same about other "protected classes" if they were really out there trying to get you not to just accept them as they are, but actually change your entire life to adopt their beliefs? What would you do if two gay men went door to door through your neighborhood inviting you to "Gay Classes" held Sunday Mornings or passed out flyers that were titled "Anal or Oral?" What if you went into the bathroom at your office and there was a note taped to the door telling you you should abandon all of your beliefs in a higher power or run the risk of wasting what little time you have left on Earth feeling guilty about looking at those naughty pictures when you were 15?

Tell me about it if I ask or seek out the information. Otherwise, be quiet and let me climb the stairs in peace.

Other Voices, Other Rooms

I can't believe I actually got to sleep in on both days of this weekend. That's practically unheard of these days, so it was big news to be in bed past 8:00. In addition to all the sleeping, we managed to do a few things too.

A year or two ago, Jen and I were sitting around drinking beers with her mom and going through old pictures. In the pile was a shot of Jen when she was about three years old. She is standing behind a car that sits with its door open still. Her hair is a tangled and blowing in the wind and she has on this little jean jacket thing that just cracks me up when I look at it. Her face is what's perfect though. It's not the cheesy good natured smile of a kid who loves to have her picture taken, but rather this solemn insecurity that comes through. It's heartbreakingly beautiful and I had it blown up, and printed in black and white to put on the wall downstairs.

Jen felt a bit odd having a pic of her on the wall by itself, so yesterday I went through some Merryman family photos and found one of me. It's a close up of me around the same age as Jen, and I have my goofy smile on. On the plus side, it's a sincere smile not the forced "I'm having my picture taken" variety. Tonight, I got both shots framed and will get them hung tomorrow. I was going to do it tonight, but didn't have the right wall anchors. We'll fix that tomorrow.

Today, we went to see the Andy Warhol exhibit
that's here in town. Columbus is actually the only US stop for Andy Warhol: Other Voices, Other Rooms, and we felt fortunate to have the chance to see it. Click on the link if you'd like the full breakdown of what was displayed, but the short list is an amazing collection of his print work, photographs, and a massive amount of film displayed on dozens of screens. While I like some of his work, I never claimed to be a massive follower, but it really was amazing to see the sheer volume of the man's output.

Jen and I roamed the halls of the Wexner Center, checking out old 16mm film of a man inserting a paintbrush into his rectum and then paint a portrait of Andy while Andy looked on, snapping the occasional photograph. We played in the area they had set aside for a miniature "Clouds" display. (The clouds in question being large foil pillows filled with a light helium mixture floating around one corner of the gallery.) I stood with rapt attention at every mention or performance by The Velvet Underground. We read excerpts of Truman Capote's Marilyn Monroe interview for Andy's magazine. We sat mesmerized by some of the screen tests that he shot as the subject would go from campy, to bored, to finally being upset that the process wasn't over.

Whatever your feelings about Campbell's Soup Cans, Multiple Marilyns, or Pop Art in general, it was a great way to spend the afternoon and it was good to just get out and spend some time looking at art again. We haven't done that for awhile, and just being out and about wakes you up a bit and gets you thinking. Some of it we loved, some of it we were indifferent to, but we were happy just roaming around. Plus, did I mention that a guy had a paint brush in his ass? How awesome is that? The only way that could be better is if he were a caricature artist at Cedar Pointe. "Oh, OK. You like horses? How bout if I draw you sitting on a horse? Great! Here, let me just bend over..."

---

After absorbing all things Andy we headed over to Panera for a late lunch. After rounding up half a sandwich and a bowl of soup each, we found a table near the fireplace and settled in. I was watching a guy who was sitting outside drinking from a Panera branded cup and smoking a cigarette like there was no tomorrow. He would take a hit, exhale in this lazy way where he would just open his mouth in an "O" and the smoke would just pour out of his lungs, and then immediately take another hit. There were no quick breaths of pure air in between, just this crazy sucking followed by letting his mouth hang open to let the flood of smoke rise up and sting his eyes. I was enthralled. When he lit another cigarette immediately, I thought it odd but remember thinking "Whatever it takes to get through it, buddy".

When he took three drags and then threw the butt on the ground ten feet to his right, lit a new cigarette, then walked over picked up the one he threw to the ground to take one more hit before putting it in the ashtray and then turn his attention to the new cigarette, I started giving Jen, who had her back to the entertainment, the play by play.

After a few minutes of me explaining that the guy was taking three or four quick drags and then throwing the still lit cigarettes on the ground, lighting a new one, and then going back for the grounded butts, she picked up her chair and came around to my side of the table. To the others in the restaurant we might have looked like thirtysomethings in love, but we were just both enthralled by this strange bit of madness in the middle of Upper Arlington.

He waved at kids, he smoked, he littered, he smoked his litter, he took sips of water from his cup with shaking hands, he smoked, he coughed, and then he did it all again. Sadly, just like my bowl of Chicken Noodle Soup, the craziness came to an end. Before I could get into my shortbread cookie, he had rounded the corner. We left shortly after and kept an eye out for him as we drove out of the neighborhood, but he was not to be seen.

And that's that. We came home and watched "True Blood" and I'm about to wrap up the night with a graphic novel by Joe Hill. Jen's been in bed for over an hour already and should be out cold. I probably won't be much further behind her.

A Few of My Favorite Things

There are a few things that I'm totally hooked on right now and I thought I'd share. In no real order of importance:

Toilet Ink - Jen and I kind of have his and hers bathrooms. Mine is in the hall close to the extra bedroom that we use as a den. One of these glorious creations will be spicing up my throne post haste. Not 100% sure which one I'm getting yet, but pretty sure that it will be "The Hot Seat.

TV on the Radio - I've loved this band since I stumbled blindly upon the "Young Liars" EP and they are consistently good. The new album is amazing and totally worth picking up. I don't know if it's as good as their previous album "Return to Cookie Mountain", but this is a bit more fun and funky, and not quite so dark. If you want to hear what they do, but don't want to pay cash money up front, check out their free live set on the The Interface - Live Feed podcast from iTunes.

This American Life - I'm a bit of a Public Radio / NPR geek. It's OK, I'm fine with it. It's the news I listen to when I'm in the car, and entertainment for me when I'm running around on the weekends. Specifically though, This American Life is hands down the best hour of radio you will ever hope to find. For those unfamiliar, each week there is a theme for the show, and each week they explore different perspectives of that theme from (generally) three or four different people. The topics range from topical (the Mortgage Crises episode was brilliant beyond words) to emotional (coping with death, lying, etc.). The different views or approaches to a subject can be in the form of a book reading, interviews, stand up, or journalistic style reporting. Often, the experience is moving. Again, iTunes has the show available for free Podcasting, so don't be shy. Go subscribe. Fall in love. Then, go to their website and give them a few bucks. It is Public Radio after all.

Urban Medium - I know I've sung the praises of UM here a few times in the past, but I love them so I'm going to do it again. I FINALLY got the cash together to get Kim Jong iLL framed. I placed the order and dropped them off last weekend and will hopefully have them back in the next 3-4 weeks. Now, they have a new Charles Manson / Hello Kitty print that's pretty amazing. I'm gonna have to see if we have room for that too. On it's own, it wouldn't be a hard sell, but she is giving up a substantial chunk of wall space for the three prints I'm already getting framed. Not sure that she wants to live in a UM gallery.

Rue Morgue - I've been picking up this magazine at the bookstore from time to time and it's always been entertaining to me. It's an amazing collection of all things horror in all its art forms. Specifically though, this year's Halloween issue is fantastic. Filled with lists of best ever gore films, reviews for novels and video games, and just fun reading over all. If you don't mind stills of nude people impaled on giant poles, this magazine is for you (or maybe just me).

True Blood - Alan Ball, the genius behind Six Feet Under (my favorite television show of all time), is now giving us vampires in rural Louisiana. Lots of blood, sex, death, and black comedy in a show that imagines life after vampires have come out of the closet. Jen said it best: "I can't wait for this show to be over so we can buy it and watch it all again."

The Bike Gang 500

Yesterday morning I loaded up the bike and drove to the trailhead at Easton. It was still dark, but a thin line of gray was slowly seeping out of the horizon, and threw enough light onto the trail so I wouldn't be completely dependant on my battery powered headlight. Like all of my rides, it started out with me asking myself why I wasn't just driving the fucking car to work. And, like all of my rides, after the first mile I was feeling it and loving it.

There are more leaves on the trail now, though I imagine most of them were less the result of the beginnings of fall and more the result of the late summer drought we had. Still, I like pedaling through the satisfying crunch of them and find myself steering towards little piles of them and feeling like a little kid. I rode hard on my way to work listening to a mix of Beastie Boys and Nine Inch Nails remixes while watching the sun break free of the edge of the world. Dozens of rabbits scattered off the trail before me and the occasional house cat would glare at me suspiciously from the taller grass as I pedal past. The air is crisp along the trails and occasionally I can pick up the smells of dryer sheets as people do last minute laundry, and then along the streets the air is thicker and smells of wood glue and exhaust.

The ride used to take me an hour and fifteen minutes, but I've got it down to fifty-four minutes on the way there and then forty-five on the way home (thanks to the downward slope). My commute used to take me at least a half hour anyway, so I don't see that I'm losing anything. I can't believe there aren't more people out there.

The thing that amazed me the most was that I hit the 500 mile mark on my way home last night. I knew it was coming up soon, but I happened to glance down at my odometer and saw that I was at 500.33 total miles ridden. If you had told me that I would ride that far when I first bought the bike, I would have laughed at you. Now I'm wondering if I can get to 1000 before the end of the year. I better get to crackin'.

Drinking While Shopping = Mistake

It was a bad idea to start drinking this evening.

I think it's because I do it so rarely these days that when I break down and open a beer or have a Scotch, it feels like an event. So far tonight, I finished the Stella Artois I had in the fridge, singled out the lone bottle of Blue Moon, and have since moved on to the Guinness tucked away at the back of my fridge. Granted, my consumption isn't much compared to those who imbibe on a more regular basis, but I'm still at the point of feeling like I could be comfortable with some bad decisions.

First buzzed decision of the night is that I should really do this more often. Life is to short to be completely sober for all of it. Most of it, sure...but not all of it. I'll work on that. We all have room for improvement, and right now I'm convinced that the hole in my life could be filled with more beer. What of it?

Second, I need a record player. That's right, a good old fashioned record player so I can have a vinyl collection.

First and foremost, I'm a collector, so the idea of putting together a vinyl collection is way appealing. Second, there is just something beautiful and nostalgic about it. When I was a kid, my father had a massive collection of LP's. Granted, he was into Southern Gospel, arguably the worst music ever put on wax, but still...I remember going through those albums as a kid. There was something about the over sized artwork and the large booklets that sometimes came inside that was so appealing.

I still remember going into my local mall as a young boy, and seeing vinyl on the racks. The pictures were amazing to me. Kiss decked out in suits for the "Dressed to Kill" cover. Jimi Hendrix's over the top psychedelia of "Axis". Strangely, the album cover that stuck with me the most was the cover of Queen's "News of the World". That giant robot with the dead bodies in the palm of its hand grabbed me, and I remember being thrilled and intimated by it all at once. With my conservative Christian upbringing, that lone image was enough to incite all sorts of feelings I knew I shouldn't be having.



Hell, kids. I remember being young in a small Nazarene church in Hebron, Ohio when they brought in a special Evangelist to discuss the dangers of "back-masking" in popular music. This was, of course, the supposedly popular practice of musicians where they would inbed messages into their albums that could only be discerned when played backwards. Said messages would then prompt you to smoke marijuana (Queen's "Another One Bites the Dust", I believe) or to "Just do it" (Judas Priest's "Stained Class" or Nike...I can't remember any longer). This man actually played records backwards to us causing a sound of warped noise to fill the church, an essentially creepy sound to begin with, and then would have to translate the garbled mess to us all so we could be sufficiently scared.

So tonight, when searching through some stuff on Best Buy, I realized just how many amazing albums are available on vinyl now and it brought all of this back. Hell yeah. I want a collection. I want Queen to convince me to get high, or Radiohead to recommend a good anti-depressant. I need Judas Priest to tell me to do anything. Fucking anything for Rob Halford, just name it, sir. I want the big album art and the big rich sound of vinyl in my house.

Don't hate. Your house if full of useless shit too. Look around.

Dance, You Fucker, Dance

Last night I picked up a friend from the Cleveland airport and we headed straight over to Blossom Music Center for last night's Radiohead show. Several months ago we bought Pit tickets which is a small standing room only section up against the stage. Without question it was the best money I've spent in ages.

Most shows that I go to have their moments where genius seems to peek through the clouds and you find yourself blown away but what you're seeing. Last night's show did that with nearly every song. I know I'm such a fanboy, but still...last night couldn't have been more perfect. Good people, good whiskey, good fun.

SET LIST:

15 Step, There There, Morning Bell, All I Need, Pyramid Song, Nude, Weird Fishes/Arpeggi, The Gloaming, The National Anthem, A Wolf at the Door, Faust Arp, Exit Music (For a Film), Jigsaw Falling into Place, Idioteque, Climbing Up the Walls, Bodysnatchers, How to Disappear Completely.

ENCORE: Videotape, Paranoid Android, Dollars & Cents, Reckoner, Street Spirit (Fade Out).

SECOND ENCORE: House Of Cards, Lucky, Everything in Its Right Place.

What's this? You'd like to see more grainy cell phone pictures? All you had to do was ask, my friend.