Sweet Redemption

So a month or so ago, I had my first gig as a parent reader in my daughter's kindergarten class. I was stoked about it, too. I'd chosen the books that my girl loves the most, which I figured would be an indication that the other kids would love them too.

Wrong. I went in thinking I was going to bring the house down with my animated storytelling style and character voices, but I fell flat.

"This book is too long!" one kid said as i trudged on through Seuss' Horton Hatches an Egg. I noticed some of the kids looking around the room as I moved through The Old Woman Who Named Things. What the hell!? This is a great book! I just didn't understand, and I was bummed when I left. I was also nervous for my next gig, slated for 8:30 am on March 3.

Last night, when the Dalai Mama reminded me that my next reading session was today, I broke out in a cold sweat as I tried to contain my panic. Were they going to bring rotten fruit this time?

I had to show up big this time, so I went for shorter books that I was sure would engage even the antsiest of kiddies. I knew my opener was vital, so I pulled out all the stops and went with Don't Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late, much to my daughter's delight. This book starts out with a fella asking the readers to make sure the pigeon doesn't try to stay up late, then the pigeon goes through legions of excuses about why he should be allowed to stay up until, fatigued from his antics, he passes out. Was it a good choice for an opener?

One kid broke out in uncontrollable laughter that forced me to delay mid-book until he could semi-regain his composure. Every other kid in the circle was in stitches, and they cheered when I finished. And this was just the first of five books, folks!

I was on a roll, basking in the glory of their five-year-old approval. I moved into the more serious When You Grow Up, about a bear who has discussions with his mother about his future as an adult, all of which involve him living with his mother. Despite the more serious tone, it was also a hit. Then I read Franklin Is Bossy, which turned into a grand discussion on taking turns, treating your friends right, etc. The last book I had brought was My Dog Never Says Please, about a snooty little girl who decides she wants to be a dog so she won't have to watch her manners, clean her room, etc. This one also had the kids howling, and when I realized that I still had seven minutes left of stage time, my daughter chose a simple, silly Seuss book off the bookshelf for me to close with: There's a Wocket in my Pocket.

When I closed the fifth and final book of my set, I got the ovation I'd been missing ever since that first gig all those weeks ago. It was sweet success, folks. I nailed it.

For booking information, please contact my agent.

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

Another week, another magazine down. Tomorrow begins our 109th issue, so I'm looking for some inspirational music this week.

I think the topic will be: songs that you freaking loved the first time you heard them.

Here are a few I'll start with:

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

I think I'm in the mood to do a theme this week, so let's go with: covers. What are your favorite covers ever? As always, I'll listen and respond to everything.

I'll start things off with this little bit of pure beauty.



Okay, the Flying Burrito Brothers actually recorded the song first, but Keith and Mick wrote it. Does that count as a cover? I guess not, but I'm starting the day with it anyway.

The A Confederacy of Dunces Excerpt of the Day

"Ignatius! So you got yourself fired."

"Please, Mother, I am near the breaking point." Ignatius stuck the bottle of Dr. Nut under his moustache and drank noisily, making great sounds of sucking and gurgling. "If you are planning now to be harpy, I shall certainly be pushed over the brink."

"A little job in a office and you can't hold it down. With all your education."

"I was hated and resented," Ignatius said, casting a hurt expression at the brown walls of the kitchen. He pulled his tongue from the mouth of the bottle with a thump and belched some Dr. Nut. "Ultimately it was all Myrna Minkoff's fault. You know how she makes trouble."

"Myrna Minkoff? Don't gimme that foolishness, Ignatius. That girl's in New York. I know you, boy. You musta really pulled some boo-boos at that Levy Pants."

"My excellence confused them."

Buy A Confederacy of Dunces.

Planet of the What the Hell Are Those Things?

So, like ... uh. Yeah.

A Space for Entertaining

You know what drives me nuts? On those home-improvement shows, why does everyone always have to call rooms spaces? ALWAYS. Even when they already said the name of the room.

"I really like this kitchen space. It's got lots of room for entertaining."

Which brings me to entertaining. I can't believe the amount of entertaining that goes on in these people's homes. I usually just have friends over, personally.

In my world, a space for entertaining is called a stage. And if I hadn't recently developed an apparent allergy to alcohol, I'd be down with playing the Spaces Drinking Game. "Ooh, this is a great space." Glug glug glug. "We'd really have fun entertaining in this outdoor space." Double-whammy, glug glug glug glug glug glug.

I guess I wouldn't make a very good interior designer.

Friday Music

Guest commenter: Dalyn's Life

Happy Birthday, Small, Young People!

My female small, young person turns 6 tomorrow, and that's kinda crazy. My pal Raoul Duke's female small, young person turns 1 tomorrow. I bet that's crazy to him. They're so, so sweet, and I love them very much.

Happy birthday, small, young people!

Love,

Daddy/Uncle SleekPelt

(Off-subject: Does anyone else forget how to write in cursive?)

[Ed. note: Thanks, m@.]

New Business Watch 2

The win streak for business continues. RtN's Matthes used it in his wildly popular column "Observations" over at Racer X Canada's site. He said:

" Team Yamaha/San Manual Band of Mission Indians' Chad Reed kept his business rolling, but just like Anaheim 3, he made it interesting."

Nice, Matthes, thanks! Also, full props go out to Weege for dropping it four times during the webcast on Saturday night.

Does anyone have Sal Masekela's number? Clash, you probably do....

New Business Watch

Yes! My boy Weege came through already! Check out his latest post, straight from the press box at San Diego's Qualcomm Stadium. Read it all the way to the end, and you'll see that the business has begun. I knew you'd come through, Weege! I'll be listening tonight.

Business Development

Sometimes I just don't think. Honestly. Here I am trying to get Rob Dyrdek to bust out business on TV, ignoring some of the tighter, if somewhat less substantial, contacts that I personally have.

For example: Jason Weigandt. "The Weege" is a bonafide, autograph-signing celebrity in the high-action world of AMA Supercross. (The only motorsport bigger than ours in the USA is NASCAR.) Not only is he one of the most popular writers in the sport, but he's also the host of the live audio feed that goes out to tens of thousands of people every supercross race. And I originally hired him years ago! That's right, Weege was a green punk out of New Jersey, looking for his big break, and who gave that to him? That's right -- yours truly. So he owes me. (Plus he still kinda works for me.)

So I'm sending him an e-mail after I finish this post, and I'm going to ask him to start using business in context at least three times during every broadcast. Hattica was already kind enough to give some racing examples on my last business post.

Speaking of Hattica ... Hattica, who posts here all the time, writes two very popular weekly columns that are read by legions of people all over the world. Hey, Hattica -- next time you write "Rev Up" and "Number Cruncher," give me a little business, would you?

Next ... Matthes. Yes, Matthes, who used to be a regular poster here on RtN until I stopped posting. Good ol' Matthes is the host of a very popular weekly podcast that is also listened to by thousands of people, many of whom are north of the border in his home country: Canada. Matthes, I checked out that David Vuillemin interview you did and there were at least 40 opportunities for you to drop the business. How about a bone next time, yo?

Last but not least is you, my fellow bloggers. Inarticulate Fumblings and Dalyn have already agreed to run business in Canada, and that's just hot. If the rest of y'all could just find a place for it, here and there, in posts, at the club, in the post office, wherever, you'll be doing your part to set this brilliant word free.

Thank you -- I love you all.

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

I don't think I'm going to do these every Friday anymore, but today is a good day for it. I'm starting the day off with Colin MacIntyre's newest masterpiece, released Tuesday: The Water.



Next?

More Business

Long time no talk! The good news is, I've finished my book, and my consulting gig is nearing its end. I look forward to getting back to my normal crazy schedule and hanging out more with you, my blogging peeps.

The reason for my post today is to talk about my latest campaign to get the word business into the lexicon of youthful slang. Unfortunately, since my post in September, the use of the word doesn't seem to have spread much. So I've decided to call out the big guns.

I sent an e-mail describing the term to a friend who's good friends with Rob and Big. He forwarded it to Dyrdek. The examples I used in the e-mail:

"Fettucini Alfredo? That's some good business right there."
"Man, I gotta change my jeans, I got all kinds of business up in these pockets."
"You got so much crusty business in your eyes you could bake an apple pie."

I feel like this could be businesses big break. If Rob reads the e-mail and sees how good of a word it is, he may say it on his television show. The kids will start saying it instantly.

So I have hope. Even though my friend said Rob's horrible at e-mail and I'll probably never hear from him.

Notes from the Good Doctor

I sure love Dr. Seuss, and luckily, so do my shorties. Here is some of my favorite Seuss.

It's a troublesome world. All the people who're in it
are troubled with troubles almost every minute.
You ought to be thankful, a whole heaping lot,
for the places and people you're lucky you're not!

-Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are?

Here's a good one to think about while working.

Think they work you too hard...?
Think of poor Ali Sard!
He has to mow grass in his uncle's back yard
and it's quick-growing grass
and it grows as he mows it.
The faster he mows it, the faster he grows it.
And all that his stingy old uncle will pay
for his shoving that mower around in that hay
is the piffulous pay of two Dooklas a day.
And Ali can't live on such piffulous pay!

So...

He has to paint flagpoles
on Sundays in Grooz.
How lucky you are
you don't live in his shoes!

-Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are?

Horton knows what's up.

Their voices were heard! They rang out clear and clean.
And the elephant smiled. "Do you see what I mean?...
They've proved they ARE persons, no matter how small.
And their whole world was saved by the Smallest of All!"

-Horton Hears a Who

This one always killed me as a kid, and now it's one of my girl's favorites.

Now, bicycles were never made
For pale green pants to ride 'em,
Especially spooky pale green pants
With nobody inside 'em!

-What Was I Scared Of?

Yertle, meet the karma police.

And today the great Yertle, that Marvelous he,
Is King of the Mud. That is all he can see.
And the turtles, of course ... all the turtles are free
As turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be.

-Yertle the Turtle

And last but far, far from least, the good ol' Lorax.

"Mister!" he said with a sawdusty sneeze,
"I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees.
I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tounges.
And I'm asking you, sir, at the top of my lungs"--
he was very upset as he shouted and puffed--
"What's that THING you've made out of my Truffula tuft?"

"Look, Lorax," I said. "There's no cause for alarm.
I chopped just one tree. I am doing no harm.
I'm being quite useful. This thing is a Thneed.
A Thneed's a Fine-Something-That-All-People-Need!
It's a shirt. It's a sock. It's a glove. It's a hat.
But it has other uses. Yes, far beyond that.
You can use it for carpets. For pillows! For sheets!
Or curtains! Or covers for bicycle seats!"

The Lorax said,
"Sir! You are crazy with greed.
There is no one on earth
who would buy that fool Thneed!"

But the very next minute I proved he was wrong.
For, just at that minute, a chap came along,
and he thought that the Thneed I had knitted was great.
He happily bought it for three ninethy-eight.

I laughed at the Lorax, "You poor stupid guy!
You never can tell what some people will buy."

-The Lorax

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

I'll leave it at that. I'll listen to everything today, but I probably won't respond until next week. Hook it up!

One

You know how much I've been working lately? So much that I haven't really not been working since we got back from Vegas. I've basically been working myself to sleep. My career is always pretty gnarly, but I'm also up to my knicks in a freelance project -- I'm writing a children's book and consulting on five others (it's a six-book series). My book is due Monday. I shouldn't even be making this post.

I've been so busy that I missed my birthday. Yep, I started Reversing the Numbness a year ago yesterday with this little post. Things haven't turned out like I thought they would, but that's okay. I'm glad to stay in touch with some of my best friends through this blog, and I've also met some very cool people. It's like my own smoky little bar.

I will definitely get back to posting more regularly, and reading my favorite blogs more regularly. I can't wait until I see some daylight! Thanks to everybody who's a part of RtN. I'm glad you're here.

Friday Music

It's Friday. You know who needs music?

My friend The Electric Orchid Hunter. He's going to do what I normally do on this weekly post: listen to every music suggestion and post his thoughts. I'm stoked that he's being a good sport about my request for a substitute. (I'm not actually going anywhere; just wanted to try something different.)

So here's how we'll do it this week. Feel free to post any songs you want -- links are always appreciated, and I bet Teoh will think so too -- but try to leave at least one song under this theme: great driving songs.

I hope everyone who stops by RTN will join in this week. Oh, and if you want to read some exceptional writing about things you probably didn't know you'd be interested in, I seriously suggest checking out Teoh's blog, Eclectic Epiphytes and Electrophoretic Epigrams. It's one of the best blogs I've ever read.

Television Nirvana

The DM just told me something that is blowing my mind. I'm sure this is common news to people who pay attention to entertainment news, but the last episode of Scrubs this year -- the series finale -- will have a Princess Bride theme.

It could be the greatest thing that's ever happened.

So, in homage to both:

Substitute Feature

I'd like to try something a little different this week. Anybody want to sub for me on Friday Music? It's easy; people will post some songs, preferably with links, and you'll just check them all out and say what you think (within a few days). I'm hoping at least one person will volunteer, and more is better. Anyone? Anyone? Anyone?

Tonight I'm Gonna Party Like It's 1999

Check out this video from 1967. (The DM saw this on Snopes.com, and it's legit.) Talk about nailing it.

So here we are, still in the infancy of the information age (though this puppy is growing up fast!). What will it be like 30 years from now?

Go Steelers!

At the very least, watch this until 3:20. It's worth it!



Go Steelers!

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

What I really need, though, is to get back into my routine! (That includes blogging frequently again; look for a video post soon.) Today will be a big day at my desk, and I need some good tunes to get me through it. I'm going to start with the songs I got last week, since I haven't had time to get to them, and then I'll move on to this week's suggestions. As always, I'll respond to everything and I appreciate links.

Happy New Year's!

The DM and I are in Las Vegas getting ready to ring in the new year as Robbie Maddison and his Honda CR500 fly over our heads. I'll be doing a little blogging over at our Racer X travel blog, so feel free to stop on by.

Happy New Year's!

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

Sort of, anyway ... not sure how much time I'll have for listening, but if you post it, I'll find the time. In the meantime, I've got one for you.



I like Bettie Serveert a lot. If you only have time to listen to one song from this full show, check out her cover of "Lover I Don't Have to Love." So nice.

Adventures in Dentistry

Wow, I feel like a stranger on my own blog! It's been a crazy month and I just haven't been able to reverse my numbness much lately. I've missed you all terribly, though, and I'm happy to be back. I look forward to catching up on your many excellent blogs in the coming days.

So tonight I'd like to flash back to my college years, probably 1992 or maybe '93. I was very poor, of course, and often found myself selling CDs or baseball cards so I could afford to buy a few death dogs and potato logs from the local Dairy Mart. (My body cringes at this now.) I was always looking for ways to save money, and this led me to shop around a bit while searching out a new dentist to do some work I'd been putting off. Basically, I needed somebody who would be willing to bill me for at least part of the fee.

After a few calls to local dentists, I found a guy in nearby Monongah. It's only 15 or 20 minutes from Morgantown, so I gave the cat a ring.

Me: Hi, I need some dental work done. Do you offer payment plans? I'm on a college student's budget, I'm afraid.
Operator (an older man): Sure.
Me: Great! I'd like to make an appointment. I'm pretty busy with classes in Morgantown; what are your hours?
Operator: We're flexible. When can you make it down?
Me: I don't suppose you're open on Saturday....
Operator: Sure! Name a time.
Me: Uhhh ... 3 pm?
Operator: See you then!

Wow! I'd found the most flexible dentist ever! I was stoked and made it to his "office" a few minutes early on the agreed-upon day.

I put "office" in quote marks because as soon as I pulled up, it was obvious this wasn't an ordinary office. It was more like a house. An old, out-of-shape house. Still, poverty can make people do crazy things, so I rang the bell.

A man in his '60s or early '70s came to the door tearing into a sandwich. I could tell by his voice he was the man I spoke with on the phone.

"Hi, I'm Dr. XXX. You must be Bryan! Can I get you a roast beef sandwich? My wife will whip it right up!"

"Uhhhhh. No. Thanks."

Now, kids, when a dentist offers you a sandwich before a checkup, what do you do? That's right, you run. I think most people who know me would say I'm a rather sensible person, but on this day, I'm afraid my I just didn't have my shit together. So I entered the building despite the sandwich.

It was sort of basement like, with clutter stacked on every table and chair, as well as on the floor. The dentist clearly lived upstairs, and his wife came down to look for something, walking about as if I weren't even in the room. Then I heard the front door open and a somewhat younger, eccentric man entered. I soon found out he was a neighbor from up the street, and it appeared he had heard the news that the dentist had a patient and didn't want to miss the event. After a quick introduction, the dentist led me to his chair in a small room at the back of the building. The room was lined with compartmented shelves, and in each box was a plaster cast of a full set of teeth.

"So what are you looking to have done?" he asked.

Nothing by you! "Uh, well, I'm just kind of shopping around right now. I'm not necessarily looking to have work done today."

"Well, the first thing I always do is take a plaster mold of my new patients' teeth," he said.

Try to plaster me and I'll punch you in the throat! "As I mentioned on the phone, I'm really low on funds, and I can't afford to pay for something like this, I'm afraid. So I should probably be goi..."

"Don't worry," he replied, "my payment plans are very flexible."

"I really don't want to go into debt over dental work," I said.

"How does this sound?: A quarter a month. Twenty-five cents. Can you afford that?"

Dear god, this man is crazy, I must get out of here. Now. "Uh, you know, I'm really not comfortable with this situation. I think I'm going to just consider my options now, but it's nice to know you're down here and available."

This went back and forth a bit, with his friend constantly assuring me that he and I were with one of the great dental gods who ever graced the Mountain State. I finally made it clear that I wouldn't be having anything done that day. The dentist finally gave in, but not wanting me to leave empty handed, gave me four or five full-size tubes of Rembrandt toothpaste (this stuff was expensive at the time, like $12 a tube or something) and about a dozen toothbrushes. Then I started my retreat.

"Wait, there's one other thing I'd like to talk to you about," he said as I shimmied toward the front door. "I have two words for you: Colloidal Silver." His eyebrows perked up as his head cocked sideways, awaiting my response.

"Pardon?"

"You've heard of AIDS? Cancer? Herpes? Pneumonia? The common cold, even?"

"Uh. Yes. I've heard of those."

"Colloidal Silver cures them all, every time."

He proceeded to produce a small bottle of clear liquid with a homemade-type label which itemized all of the ailments this miracle cure could defeat. He and his neighbor explained that they'd both been taking Colloidal Silver every day for more than a year and they were both is perfect health. They felt like they were twenty again. The doc apologized for not being able to give me any, as his supply was limited, but he could put me in touch with a person who sold it for a very good price.

I told him that he and his friend did indeed appear to be in, err, excellent shape, but as I mentioned I was on a tight budget and, being that I was in good health, I would pass this time but thank you oh so much for thinking of me.

At this point I was really, truly freaked out, and I paid my respects and beelined for the door. But not before he could stall me one last time.

"Wait, I do have one more thing you can take with you, if you want, but I'd like you to bring it back to me the next time you come down."

I looked at the item in his hands, which he'd apparently picked up from one of the many stacks in the room. It was a worn, dog-eared, '70s era issue of Playboy.

"Aaaaaaaarrrrrgggggghhhhhhhh!" I was out the door in a flash. I fumbled with my keys as I tried to unlock my Subaru Justy while looking over my shoulder, convinced I was being pursued. When I finally got in I put The Silver Devil in first gear and got the eff out of there as fast as I could.

Of course I told my story to everyone I knew, and eventually to a buddy of mine from the Monongah area. He laughed and told me that the guy had indeed once been a very respected dentist in the area, but had begun losing some of his faculties in recent years. My friend always was prone to understatement.

I haven't been to Monongah since.

So that's my crazy dentist story. Want to learn a little more about Colloidal Silver? Then, by all means, check out this video, which the Dalai Mama pointed out the other day.

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

You post your favorite Christmas tunes, the DM and I will listen on Sunday night. Merry Christmas!

Intermission

I love my job, but sometimes it get particularly gnarly. Now is one of those times! Which is too bad, because I really want to talk about my visit to the crazy dentist. I will get to this post soon, though.

Oh, and I think I'm going to do a Christmas theme on Friday Music this week. The DM and I will most likely listen to them together on Sunday, so it seems appropriate.

Game on.

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

I have an early group Christmas present for everyone.

Unwrap your gift.

Did you get me anything? You did? I love the link wrapping paper!

Movies We Know Most of the Lines To

These are mine:

Gift Envy

Remember when you were a kid and somebody else got a gift for Christmas that you wish you had gotten? I'm experiencing the same feeling tonight. My pal Josh Williams has receiving an amazing early Christmas present from Helen Mansfield, and I'm coveting. Oh, I'm coveting.

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

I think I'll start this week's music post off with a little playlist of my own. Feel free to check this stuff out and post your thoughts.

"Brand New Key" -- Melanie Safka
I heard this song on an oldies station tonight and really liked it.

"Movin' Out" -- Billy Joel
Live from a BBC session in '78. Nice.

"Hyberballad" -- Bjork
The Queen of the World.

"Watching Xanadu" -- Mull Historical Society
One of my favorite musicians, but nobody here in the States knows him.

"Paranoia in B Flat Major" -- The Avett Brothers
I'm semi-obsessed with this band right now. I love these guys' voices.

"Dirt" -- Nine Inch Nails
I was just in the mood for it.

"Sari" -- Nelly McKay
This girl is out of control. I like. Ever hear anything quite like this?

What's next? I love links.

Rudolph the Red-Headed Step-Child

Don't you just love the stop-motion Christmas classic Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer? I know you've seen it dozens of times. Originally aired in 1964, it's the longest running TV special with regard to consecutive years. That's pretty impressive.

I always get a kick out of breaking down the plot of this much-loved special. Let's give it a try.

Rudolph, a young reindeer who simply wants to belong, finds himself with a physical trait that makes him different from the others. This shames his father, Donner, who insists Rudolph try to hide his shiny nose. (I liken this to a father insisting his little-person child wear heightening shoes. He should be flogged with a giant candy cane.) After Rudolph's disguise comes apart in public, and despite his impressive, passion-inspired virgin flight, all of the other reindeer (with the exception of the sweet Clarice) give him hell and make him feel worse than his his no-good, sell-out father made him feel. Then, perhaps the biggest villain of the movie, Santa the Bigot, a man whose entire business is built upon the apparently bogus idea of rewarding the just, lays into Donner, declaring, "You should be ashamed of yourself!" And he means because his boy has a shiny nose, folks, not because of the atrocious way he reacted to that discovery.

Now let's think about Santa's slaves for a bit, the elves. (Note that the word elves is a mere a away from being a perfect anagram of slaves.) They all seem happy with their lots in life. All of them, that is, with the exception of Hermey the Misfit Elf. See, this poor chap wants to be a dentist. Is there any encouragement for his uncommon drive? Of course not. Even his offers of free dental care are rewarded with ridicule, and he's driven away.

So it's natural that the two societal rejects meet up and form a bond that causes them to go in search of "fame and fortune." What they're really looking for is acceptance and opportunity, of course, but their sheltered naivety is unsure how to define their drive. Along the way they meet up with severely inclement weather, a seemingly greedy but helpful prospector named Yukon Cornelius, and a misunderstood yeti that man has tagged as "abominable," imposing a role upon him that manifests in exactly that type of behavior. The three new friends stick close to each other as they battle beast and nature in pursuit of their dreams.

Let's hop over quickly to the Island of Misfit toys, an internment camp where unwanted toys are sent as victims of a consumer society growing out of control. What a brilliant concept to include in a Christmas special, and in 1964 it was downright prophetic.

Meanwhile, back at the North Pole, ol' Santa the Bigot is starting to realize that he's gotten himself into a bit of a pickle. He sets up shop in the most rugged tundra the earth has to offer and finds himself surprised to encounter -- gasp! -- a bad snowstorm on Christmas Eve! What a shock. What's he going to do?

You all know how the story ends. The yeti gets knocked out, Hermey converts him to the good side by extracting his teeth (the Wikipedia entry makes it seem like this somehow tamed him, perhaps through submission, but I always thought he had toothaches that were making him particularly grumpy and, like the lion with the thorn in his paw, he repaid a good deed with proper gratitude), we find out that Cornelius was really just prospecting for peppermint and not gold or silver(at least in the original version), the whole crew makes it back to the North Pole, and when Santa the Bigot realizes that Rudolph actually has something to offer him, well then it's all just freaking dandy! Rudolph is the best! We all love Rudolph! Attaboy Rudolph!

But Santa at least saved the Misfit Toys, you say? Sure he did. In the revised version that was created after consumer complaint.

Hypocrites, the lot of them!

... Then how the reindeer loved him
as they shouted out with glee
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
They're full of hypocrisy

How would a kid who has an "abnormal" feature or condition feel about this show? Hopefully they'd feel redemption at the end, as the "misfits" clearly rise above the rest in this cautionary tale, but if I was an albino child, or if I had a particularly large nose, or a visible birthmark on my face, or anything else that's sure to keep me off the cover of Mademoiselle or GQ, I think I'd tell my mom that I don't want that red-suited bastard and his army of demon deer to come anywhere near my house. I'd be lighting a fire under the chimney and booby-trapping the hell out of my Christmas tree. Of course all of this work would be done in vain, because I'd know Santa isn't coming anyway. The bastard doesn't give a crap about how nice I've been all year when I'm running a cowlick this.

Olé

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

I'm going to L.A. on Saturday for a few nights (mainly to attend this), so I'll start my day with Zep's "Goin' to California."

Who's got next? As always, links are really appreciated, and I'll respond to every suggestion.

A Tribute

1983. Sixth grade. Kings of Morgan Elementary. Hellooo, Alicia Schenk. Hellooo, Angel Blankenship. Wait, they like me? World-changing. Friday night, spin the bottle. Saturday night, Skateworld. Couples skate? No problem, I skate backward. Hellooo, Alicia and Angel. Hair parted in the middle, feathered, thanks to Mom and her curling iron. Hellooo, ladies. Also ... wiffle ball. Wall ball. Strat-O-Matic Baseball. Basketball at Stealey Park. Football at Stealey Park. Take a break, across the street, Aunt Jane's, best human ever, best house ever. Summer at Stealey Pool. Summer at Myrtle Beach.

1983. It's mostly a blur, other than semi-intact memories of a year when everything changed. One thing I'll never forget is walking to Stealey Park with Dave Wolfe, gigantic boom box in tow, cranking, cranking Quiet Riot's Metal Health. It gives me a nervous, exciting feeling of unlimited possibility to this day.

Godspeed, Kevin DuBrow. You made something once that was a soundtrack to a year in the life of a kid somewhere. And that really is something.

Favorite Quotes

When I was in high school my great aunt Alice gave me a little book of quotes. It was so little that it could fit in my wallet, and because of the following quote, it stayed there for years. I wish I still had that little book, but I'll never forget this William Penn anecdote:

I expect to pass through life but once. If, therefore, there be any kindness I can show, or any good thing I can do to any fellow being, let me do it now, and not defer or neglect it, as I shall not pass this way again. William Penn

No amazing word play here, just simple words to live by.

What quotes do you like?

Three is a Magic Number, Again

I posted this once before, but I'm still amazed at just how good it is, so I'm going to put it up again. This song is great on so many levels. Full lyrics are below the video.



Three is a magic number,
Yes it is, it's a magic number.
Somewhere in the ancient, mystic trinity
You get three as a magic number.

The past and the present and the future.
Faith and Hope and Charity,
The heart and the brain and the body
Give you three as a magic number.

It takes three legs to make a tri-pod
Or to make a table stand.
It takes three wheels to make a ve-hicle
Called a tricycle.

Every triangle has three corners,
Every triangle has three sides,
No more, no less.
You don't have to guess.
When it's three you can see
It's a magic number.

A man and a woman had a little baby,
Yes, they did.
They had three in the family,
And that's a magic number.

3-6-9, 12-15-18, 21-24-27, 30.
3-6-9, 12-15-18, 21-24-27, 30.
Multiply backwards from three times ten:

Three time ten is (30), three times nine is (27),
Three times eight is (24), three times seven is (21),
Three times six is (18), three times five is (15),
Three times four is twelve,
And three times three is nine, and three times two is six,
And three times one is three of course.

Now take the pattern once more:
Three! . . .3-6-9
Twelve! . . .12-15-18
Twenty-one!. . .21-24-27. . .30

Now multiply from 10 backwards:
Three time ten is (30 - Keep going), three times nine is (27),
Three times eight is (24), three times seven is (21),
Three times six is (18), three times five is (15),
Three times four is twelve,
And three times three is nine, and three times two is six,
And three times one...
What is it?!
Three!
Yeah, That's a magic number.

A man and a woman had a little baby.
Yes, they did.
They had three in the family.
That's a magic number.

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

And I'm late, and it's the day after Thanksgiving, so perhaps I won't get many suggestions anyway. But if you post 'em (especially with links!), I'll listen with relish.

Happy Thanksgiving!

This is my 250th post. Thanks to everyone for stopping by!

Gibberish

Learn Gibberish

Catfish Noodling

My brothers and their families were in this weekend, and my older brother, an experienced fisherman, told me about trout noodling. Have you ever heard of this? If not, or if you've never seen it, check this out:



I now have a new activity to add to the long list of things I hope to never experience in life.

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

I begin my day with rock. First, Clutch.


Then I move on to the Jukebox Zeros. Bass player Rob Zero and guitarist Zee are both regulars on RtN, and they're damn fine human beings to boot. We've used these guys a lot on our Racer X Films. Go check 'em out.

What else? (Any genre is fine.) Links are so appreciated that I mention it every week.

Pizza Bake

Want to see how we apparently make a "good Italian dish" in West Virginia? Then, by all means, check out the Dalai Mama's latest post. Yummy.

Zookeeper

Want to hear a fantastic album that you didn't even know existed? I highly suggest that you answer yes. It won't cost you a penny.

Let me know what you think?

Kriss-Krossed With Christopher Cross

One of the DM's guilty pleasures is General Hospital, and this means that I get to experience the joy of watching Tivoed episodes many nights in bed. It's insane to me, but I cope by coming up with nicknames for people on the show (Emily is "Mushmouth," Nikolas is "Poor Man's Tom Cruise," and Patrick is "Rick Springfield's kid" -- and I just had to ask the DM their real names) and repeatedly making cracks like, "Oh, my god, that ghost is still on the show? Are you kidding me?"

The other night we got to talking about Luke and Laura, and that reminded me of the Christopher Cross song "Think of Laura," which was featured on the soap when I was a kid. Remarkably, the DM doesn't remember the song, so I went to CC's MySpace dealio and was able to play it for her. Then we checked out his MySpace fan-page dealio and spun Arthur's Song for a few seconds, because the DM remembered that one.

I know he had some big hits, but I must say I was surprised that his songs were played more than 200 times on these two pages today alone! I mean, who goes to Christopher Cross's MySpace dealio and plays "Think of Laura"? Who?

Well, besides me, I mean.

Concert Vault

I recently found out about Concert Vault. It's got complete streaming concerts from tons of bands, most of which are free. I listened to a Black Sabbath show and a Cure show on Friday, and the sound quality on both was great. Awesome site.

Friday Music Special: Hurra Torpedo

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

The Blood Brothers announced yesterday that they're breaking up, so I start the day with "Set Fire to the Face on Fire."



What's next? As always, links are very, very much appreciated, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on music that gets posted.

American Idol X

A couple of weeks ago I interviewed a dude named Bucky Covington, who was a finalist on American Idol two seasons ago and is doing pretty well on the mainstream country charts. He's a big motocross fan, so I did a small piece on him for the next issue. He seemed as down to earth as he did when he was on the show -- just a good ol' boy. Our little chat got me to thinking about the biggest show on television.

I didn't watch American Idol until two season ago, when I finally gave it a chance. (The DM sort of watched out of the corner of her eye but didn't really care much.) I'd resisted before that, probably just because the show was so popular that it turned me off. But sometimes I have to remind myself that disliking something because it's popular is the same as liking it because it's popular -- you're letting its popularity control how you feel about it either way. So I decided to give it a chance and form an opinion based on the show itself. Here's what I came up with:

It's not as bad as I thought it would be. Sure, it's exploitative in early rounds and overly produced throughout, but at its heart it's really just a talent show, and I always sort of liked talent shows. (Even these negative elements can be somewhat controlled with Tivo.) Compare this to other reality shows that are absolutely based on pitting the worst elements of human nature against each other for the deranged enjoyment of the lowest common denominator, and American Idol comes out looking halfway decent.

So last year we gave the show another shot, and while I wasn't overly impressed with the finalists as a whole, a Lily Tomlin lookalike named Melinda Doolittle was really, really good. This girl was the clear winner of the show, and I knew it the second I heard her. There was just no way anyone was going to beat her.

And that might have actually been the case had I (and others like me) bothered to vote for her, but despite my acceptance of the fact that I was actually watching this show, I could not bring myself to vote. I just could not do it. The reality of voting on American Idol was more than I could stand. What if Rob Zero found out? Humiliations galore....

Then she lost to two or three inferior singers, including one dude who is so inferior he shouldn't even be on the same stage she's on. I couldn't believe it. What a joke! I stopped watching the show instantly and vowed to never watch it again. I guess I could blame myself -- if I didn't vote, I probably shouldn't care who wins -- but in the end, I learned that American Idol is also based on one of the worst elements of human nature: extremely bad taste.

Elephant Gun

I first listened to Beirut when Colin MacIntyre said their last album, Gulag Orkestar, was the record of the year. That means a lot to me coming from Colin, so I checked them out, and the DM and I loved the album instantly.

So the DM mentioned Beirut's video for "Elephant Gun" on Chez Mama yesterday, imploring people to check it out. I've decided to help her in her cause, because it really is a great song and a bitchin' video. Let us know what you think?

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

I'm a shapeless mass trapped in a red plastic egg. Free me and flatten me against the comic-strip likeness of your soul.

Oh, the Horror!

I was definitely not the horror buff that the Dalai Mama was when she was a kid; the freak was infatuated with The Shining when she was like 5 years old, which was about the same time I was petrified of my brother's KISS posters. (This will come as no surprise to those who were around for my KISS rant a while back.) But when I got a bit older I came around and fell in love with some great horror flicks. Here are the ones that I remember the most from the '80s.












Happy Halloween!

Band Names

I've wanted to do a band-names post for a while now. My questions are:

1. What do you think is the best band name of all time?
2. What would your band name be? (If you're actually in a band, pick a new band name.)

I'll comment with my answers.

Nobody Comes (Repeat)

I first made this post back in April, but while listening to the great Billy Bragg on my way to work today, and noticing once again how amazing yet seemingly simple his words are, I remembered this Thomas Hardy poem and thought I'd recycle it. This is my first repeat post:

I recently stumbled onto this poem by Thomas Hardy. The second stanza is intensely sad to me, but I really love the way it reads, so I thought I'd post it here.

Nobody Comes

TREE-LEAVES labour up and down,
And through them the fainting light
Succumbs to the crawl of night.
Outside in the road the telegraph wire
To the town from the darkening land
Intones to travelers like a spectral lyre
Swept by a spectral hand.

A car comes up, with lamps full-glare,
That flash upon a tree:
It has nothing to do with me,
And whangs along in a world of its own,
Leaving a blacker air;
And mute by the gate I stand again alone,
And nobody pulls up there.
— 9 October 1924

Damn.

Now Poop On Them Oliver

Wow.

Last Year's Model

We start this post off with a little soundtrack music from the king, Mr. Elvis Costello. Raoul Duke, feel free to abstain from the audio portion of this entry.



Nobody would ever accuse me of being model material. While it's true that I have incredibly normal ears that could potentially show up in an ear ad of some kind, you wouldn't think I'd end up on the other end of a camera for professional purposes. But a couple of years ago on the Andy Warhol Bridge in Pittsburgh, that's exactly what happened.

I've mentioned before that I make motorcycle magazines for a living, and a while back I got a call from esteemed photographer Fran Kuhn. Fran is just a peach of a guy, and I've known him for ten or eleven years. (Here's a bitchin' photo of his from back in the day of Scott Burnworth.) He doesn't do much race stuff these days, probably because he's so good that he stays busy with commercial work. I mean, he is really, really good.

Speaking of commercial work, he called me back then because he had a photo shoot for a Honda brochure planned in Pittsburgh a couple of days later and one of his riders had to bail at the last second. He needed someone who was tall (I'm 6'!) and thin (175!) who could ride a motorcycle. I don't remember what the pay was, but it was good for a day's worth of work, and Fran needed someone, so I told him I'd be happy to fill in.

It ended up being pretty cool. I went up that Saturday and found that they had closed the Andy Warhol Bridge down for this shoot. We were doing the cover shoot for the 2005 Honda VTX1800 brochure. These are the brochures that dealers display in their dealerships, just like car dealers do with every model they sell.

Here's a photo of me (up front) and the other dude, with the rigs we were on:


The bridge is sloped, so we'd just ride up to piece of duct tape on the road, turn the bike off, and when Fran said go, we'd start drifting backward. (A mechanic had disconnected the brake light so it wouldn't light up as I controlled my speed with my front brake.) My job was to keep the wheel on the side-rig on the yellow line as we drifted back. The other dude, who's used to riding backward on a motorcycle, would make sure he was going about the same speed as I was. Fran was off to the side with a remote shutter button snapping photos like crazy until we made it to the point where he'd tell us to stop, ride up to the duct tape, and do it all again. (The point in going backward was to create a motion blur in the background.)

We did this all day and Fran took hundreds of photos. We stuck around just until dusk, when the lights on the bridge and in some of the buildings kicked on, and Fran took some final shots. My one and only day as a model was finished.

A month or two later, I got an e-mail from Fran with the final version of the photo, which is actually a Photoshop composition of multiple images.


The rigs were Photoshopped out, the road was perfected, and the whole thing looks like it was done at dusk. I think the photo turned out great, and I had fun doing it to boot. Too bad I never actually got to ride that Honda.

Oh, and I changed the template of RtN. If anyone has any problems with it, let me know.

The Worst Cover Ever

The DM and I are checking out a show called The Next Great American Band. I just heard a band called The Hatch do the worst cover I've ever heard. It was Dylan's "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue," and it was just horrible.

This show is insane.

Friday Music

It's Friday (almost). I need music.

If you could have any musician play a couple of stripped-down sets in your living room, who would you choose? That's the topic of this week's Friday Music post. I've been thinking about this all day, and I've narrowed the list down to five people, in no particular order.

Cat Power
My oh my, do I love Cat Power. Not only is she on my list of five people to play in my living room, but she's actually #1 on my list of bands/musicians I've never seen but really want to. She's got a beautiful, haunting voice, she writes great songs, and I love the ridiculous little dances she does on stage. But it's the way she affects her voice with the crazy things she does with her mouth/face that really throws me over the edge. This woman's got juice, folks, and I love her so. Welcome to my living room, Chan.


Thom Yorke
Radiohead is the best band in the world, and a lot of it has to do with Thom Yorke. I love most Radiohead songs, from Pablo Honey to In Rainbows, but I'm still partial to The Bends and OK Computer. I just loved the way Thom would disarm you with this sweet, soft, controlled voice, and just when you'd let your defenses down, he cream you with spastic explosions of sonic mayhem. My god.


Sinead O'Connor
I've loved her from the moment I heard her voice. I loved her from her incredible sophomore album, I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got, through her SNL incident, through her sexual ambiguity, through her ordination into the schismatic Independent Catholic group. Thing is, I just never cared about any of that other stuff. Could not care less, in fact! It's the voice--delicate and supremely strong at the same time--I care about. Sing for me, Sinead. I love this song.


Joseph Arthur
I've practically seen him in a setting as intimate as a living room. Inexplicably, he came to Morgantown to a small venue a couple of years ago to a crowd of maybe 70. Unreal. I like him when he plays with the Lonely Astronauts too, but to me, he's at his best when he's by himself, with his looping equipment and his paints, showing the range and soul of a voice and mind that could never be confused with another. He can sing from the gutter all the way up to heaven. The great thing about this dude is, if he's playing near you and you're not in NYC or another major city, there's a pretty good chance you'll be able to get close to the stage. Don't miss that chance.


Fiona Apple
Her album When the Pawn.... is a masterpiece. I get the sense she's a little bit crazy, and there is nothing like a crazy girl with a voice and a piano. I love watching her hunch over the keys, convulse over them, command them as she flails. Remember that XTC song "Dear God," where they ask, "Did you make mankind, or did we make you?" With Fiona, I wonder if she's making the music, or if it's making her. I don't know, maybe that doesn't make any sense. But I'll get a baby grand if she'll come play it. With that, I present her cover of "Across the Universe," my plane-crash song. The lazy beauty of her voice in this absolutely destroys me, especially with the backdrop of silent chaos this video provides. It's worth watching until the very last second.


That's my top five. If any of them ever agree to a gig in my living room, you're all invited. But if you all show up, I'm calling in the heavy hitter and we'll have a real party. Hit it, Bobby:


So who would you choose? That's what I want to listen to this week. As always, links are very much appreciated. I'll respond to every suggestion by Sunday.

The New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest

So my caption didn't make the final three in the contest from a couple of weeks ago. I had struggled choosing one of these caps:

"It's the greatest living room on Earth."

or

"Can I get you some cotton candy?"

I thought the first one was just a bit too obvious and not particularly funny, so I went with the latter. I see that someone else made the final three with "Welcome to the greatest living room on Earth!" Hers is worded better than mine, but I still like the cotton candy one better.

On last week's toon, I went with "No, I don't want to play Duck Duck Goose!" which edged out "My kingdom for an omelet."

Here's the new cartoon. Feel free to post captions; I'll be putting mine up as I think of them.

Hangin' With The Kindershorty

Having two shorties is great, but once you've have two shorties for a while, it's a real treat to get some quality time with one of them. The DM is off to Virginia to get her hair chopped off, and she took the young shorty with her, so I got to spend the afternoon and evening with the kindershorty. Here she is:


Isn't she a little sweet pea? She was at my office for hours, waiting patiently as we pushed to finish a book by deadline. (We did it. Nice work, J-Ko and Hoop.) Then we went downtown and had ice cream cones with sprinkles (her) and crunchies (me) while walking down High Street and talking about things and people we saw. We sang "Country Roads" almost the entire ride home, then after she aced her sight words (homework in kindergarten!), we went upstairs and did somersaults onto the bed. I'm officially old now that I get dizzy from doing somersaults.

She asked if she could go to sleep in our room tonight, and I of course let her. We read a book about Little Bear, then talked about the imaginary Cloud Town we started inventing last night when she couldn't get the image of Big John's ghost out of her head and was afraid she'd have "terrible dreams." We turned the light off and I sang "Wonderful Tonight" and the theme song of Cheers to her. I have no idea where that one came from. She fell asleep and I made it downstairs about a minute before kickoff.

What an awesome night.

Christian Movies

Christian Slater, who was the epitome of cool to me when I was younger, starred in three of my favorite movies. Here are few scenes from them. Spoilers if you haven't seen them, obviously.

Heathers
This was my real introduction to Christian Slater. Raoul Duke and I adopted "Heather Chandler is one bitch that deserves to die" into our language.


Pump Up the Volume
I freaking love this movie and soundtrack. I found Leonard Cohen in this movie. Concrete Blonde and the Pixies too. The song is this clip rules.


True Romance
It's a top-5 movie for me, and this may be my favorite scene in any movie ever.

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

It's a hard-core deadline day and the weather is dreary, so I think I'll start off with England's Editors.

Any suggestions on what else I should listen to? As always, links are very much appreciated.

The New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest

I've submitted captions to The New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest a couple of times in recent weeks, and now I'm determined to get a caption in the final three. So I think I'm going to start doing weekly posts about the new toon. I can post my caption ideas to get feedback on which one I should submit and you can come up with your own if you want. (And if you do, why not submit them?)

So before reading my first few captions for this week, check out the toon.

The Lodger -- Free Listen

Fanatic Promotion sent me a link a couple of days ago to a full stream of the new The Lodger album, Grown-Ups. If you're in the mood for something new, give it a shot and let me know what you think.

Chez Mama

The Dalai Mama has started the blog she's been thinking about for a while now. Nice! Check her out at Chez Mama.

On Walking (and Seeing)

As I was walking from the back of the building to my desk, it dawned on me how lucky I am that I can. Just thought I'd take a second to acknowledge that to the universe. (Oh, and universe, I'm also pretty stoked about the whole sight thing too. It's much appreciated, really.)

Yummy

Hardees' new Country Breakfast Burrito. Two egg omelets filled with bacon, sausage, diced ham, (what, no pig feet?) cheddar cheese, hash browns and sausage gravy, all wrapped inside a flour tortilla. 60 grams of fat. 920 calories.

Good lord! If someone tries one of these monsters, I want a full report. Reminds me of this:

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

I'll start the day with some B-boys in the DM's honor -- happy birthday! -- then I'll move into those lovable Canadian twins, Tegan and Sarah.

What next?

Opportunity for a Little Plug?

After my most recent post on the Radiohead thread, I thought enough references had been made to the JBZ's lunch with the big label A&R guy to warrant a link to that section of my tour journal! Enjoy!

By the way, the part about Capitol Records is where the Radiohead stuff came up, but I left out the details.

Happy Birthday, DM! Happy Birthday, Matt A!

The DM's birthday isn't until Friday, but since our home computer is down and she has limited access to RtN, I thought I'd start a post about it now.

UPDATE: I just found out tomorrow is Matt A's birthday, so we'll extend the happy birthday to him as well. Here's your present from me, mate.

Radiohead's Golden Ticket

You've all heard by now that Radiohead's soon-to-be-released new album, In Rainbows, due out in a mere two days, is not being released on a major label but will instead be available exclusively on Radiohead's website for a price to be determined by the purchaser.

It's up to you. No really, it's up to you.

I think the whole thing has a Willy Wonka feel to it. The reclusive geniuses have been holed away working on god-knows-what and now, out of the blue, they drop the crazy news that their mystery album will be released in a handful of days, and fans can download it for whatever they want to pay! The announcement generates a storm of worldwide press that nearly crashes the band's website and lands them millions of dollars worth of free publicity in magazines and newspapers, on television shows, and of websites and blogs. It reminds me of the part in the movie where Wonka, a reclusive genius who had been holed away working on god-knows what, dropped the crazy news that there were five Golden Tickets in Wonka Bars, all good for tours of Wonka's candy factory, and the whole world went ape shit.

From the Wik: Wonka's eccentric behavior, inventions, ignoring the rules of science and self imposed isolation and paranoia classify him as a Mad Scientist.

I'm on the email lists of a bunch of music promoters, including Radiohead's U.S. publicity company, Nasty Little Man. This is an e-mail I got from them last week:

There will be no advances, promotional copies, digital streams, media sites, etc. of RADIOHEAD's In Rainbows.

Everyone in the world will be getting the music at the same time:
Oct. 10. That includes us. We don't have anything to play anyone in
the nine days until the record is available. Everyone at nasty has
put his or her order in and just to clarify: you are not being asked
to pay for a promo (as some have inquired). you can pay nothing or as much or as little as you want.

There will be no promotional copies of the discbox either, as each
discbox is being made to order. Sorry.

I can only imagine how inundated they were with e-mails from magazine types after the buzz began.

I read an article on the move in the latest issue of Time magazine, and there are many in the already battered record industry who are afraid of what this new "model" will do to their bottom line. (One record company exec said, "If you can pay whatever you want for music by the best band in the world, why would you pay $13 or 99 cents for music by somebody less talented?") Radiohead insists they're not trying to come up with a new business model, but instead that they just really want everyone to get their music at the same time.

I bet it's really about control though. About controlling their music, their marketing efforts, their schedules. Their business. Their lives. Imagine what an nightmare it must be to produce a big-time record. Imagine how many people are involved in that process, pulling at your art and time in every direction like it's some kind of (Wonka) taffy, trying to find as many ways as they can to make as much money off of you as they possibly can.

Oh and by the way, which one's Pink?

If that's the price you have to pay to make a living doing what you want, so be it. But what if that price is unnecessary? I'm sure Radiohead will still make millions on the digital downloads, even with voluntary pricing. (I plan on paying four pounds, which is like eight bucks, I believe.) Considering that a band doesn't even make 20 percent on album sales these days when they're with a record company, the potentially slightly less revenue is a small price to pay for eliminating all of that other crap, especially when you already have all the money you'll ever need. (And they've got a major tour on the way in 2008, where they'll clean up anyway. The DM and I will see them live, that's for sure. Probably a couple of times.)

Yep, Radiohead is in control. They've used their insane new scheme to weed out all of the liars, the gluttons, the spoiled, ill-behaved cretins who only wanted to juice them for all they could get, and they're passing their music on on their own terms.

Oompa loompa, indeed.



Ten years ago this Friday -- on the DM's birthday, in Raoul Duke's North Carolina apartment -- was the day we discovered OK Computer.

I Totally Remember "Pop Goes the World" Now

Happy birthday, Matthes!

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

Only it's Thursday, but since I'll be on the road tomorrow, Friday Music will be a day early this week. I rode to work today, which is usually a good thing (especially on a beautiful day like this), but there was so much stop-and-go traffic that I've got arm-pump in my left arm. Less good! So I'll start the day with some Traffic.

As always, links are very much appreciated. I'd also like to invite anyone else to check out the music people suggest and of course to comment about it. (And welcome, Blogandters.)

Beware of the Rat Man!

This is one of the funniest damn things I've ever seen. Sleek and I were watching the actual show when it aired, and we were falling of the couch laughing. I hate this phrase, but dude, this guy really DOES scream like a girl!

Video Vault

"Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats -- a huge video on MTV in the early '80s. I just watched it for the first time in a long and was surprised to see the dude go all Ren McCormick on that medieval village. I guess I don't remember it as well as I thought I did.

Speaking of Ren McCormick ... this one's for the ladies.



If you just can't wait, fast-forward to 2:30 on that one to see one skinny j breakin'.

More Classic Calvin

I felt like this every day when I was in school. I remember it like it was yesterday. Thankfully my job doesn't make me feel this way.

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

"Come in. Every night you enter me like a criminal. You break into my brain, but you're no ordinary criminal. You put your feet up, you drink your can of Pepsi, you start to party, you turn up my stereo. Songs I've never heard, but I move anyway. You get me crazy, I say 'Do it.' I don't care just do it. Jam me, jack me, push me, pull me, talk hard!"-- The Eat Me Beat Me Lady

"I like that. Talk hard. I like the idea that a voice can just go somewhere uninvited and just kind of hang out like a dirty thought in a nice clean mind. To me a thought is like a virus. You know, it can just kill all the healthy thoughts and just take over. That would be serious." -- Hard Harry

That would be totally serious.

So I start the day with "Wave of Mutilation" by The Pixies. Next?

That's Some Good Business Right There

I've been saying something lately and I'm wondering if I picked it up somewhere else or if I just started doing it.

Business

I've basically been using the word business in place of stuff, like so:

(i.e. The DM makes an awesome stir-fry)
"That's some good business right there."

(i.e. I'm getting into my backpack)
"Man, there's all kind of business in here."

Am I just horking this from the kids?

Holy Hail!

What a storm we just had! I thought for sure my car was jacked, but it seems to be fine. The hail stones were sort of like small marbles. It was pretty intense!

Pet My Peeve

A very good friend and co-worker of mine, Jessie, mentioned to me today that she thought a post about pet peeves could be fun, and I'd been considering one anyway, so here goes. This one's for you, Jessie. I look forward to reading everyone's pet peeves.

Here's one of mine from yesteryear: When I was in college, I worked in retail (CD store), and I absolutely, positively hated it when I'd be trying to help a customer and this other dude who worked there would listen in to what the person was asking and would chime in with the answer. Dude! I've got it under control! My god this guy was a putz. I finally told him that it was the most annoying thing I'd ever encountered and if he did it again I was going to jab him with the pin on my name tag, and he stopped doing it. I could see him chomping at the bit when he'd overhear a customer's question, though, and I'd just sort of subtly tap my name tag and shake my head. Try me.

My biggest current pet peeves involve the good coffee pot in my office. (I don't care about the bad coffee pot -- enjoy your half-strength Maxwell House, freaks.) The good one is a pain in the butt, though, because it has a built-in grinder and it has to be completely taken apart and cleaned between each brewing.

Peeve #1: People who brew a pot without completely taking it apart and cleaning it. DON'T! It'll taste like crap and waste the coffee that either Jessie or I brought in! And trust me, I can tell if it's been cleaned or not.

Peeve #2: Only Jessie and I bring in good coffee, but lots of people drink it! The company only provides Maxwell House. Good coffee drinkers -- pitch in! That stuff's expensive!

Peeve #3, and the biggie: Okay, fine, don't bring in any coffee. You can drink mine or Jessie's, we're happy to share, really. But for the love of GOD, man (and one woman), clean the pot at the end of the day so I don't have to do it at 6 AM when I'm ready to mainline straight coffee beans into my veins! Seriously, why is that only Jessie and I clean that damn coffee pot? If she and I are bringing in all of the good coffee, and there are eight people drinking it, then there are six other people who should be cleaning that pot at the end of every day.

I still have an old associate's tag from Camelot Music. If that pot's not clean in the morning, somebody's getting jabbed.

Friday Music

It's Friday. I need music.

But I'm leaving mid-day for a weekend in Maryland, where I'll be watching Team USA defend their title at the annual Motocross of Nations event. It's the first time the MXoN has been held in the U.S. since 1987. Should be fun.

So it's gonna be more like Friday A.M. Music.

Go ahead; make my day.

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