Shoes and Singing Babes

Aren't they pretty? Wonderfully adjustable. Comfy. They Breathe and I can get off the bike and walk comfortably.

Oh, and Neko Case in WMV glory promoting her new album. The songs sound very, very good. Looking forward to it.

This is Just To Say

That Michael Buble makes me want to shove shrimp skewers in my ears.

That is all.

My apologies to William Carlos Williams. And Wendy O. Williams. And Robin Williams.

I'm Not Sayin'

That this is the most brilliant video ever made. I'm not even saying it's new. Just one of my favorites. Possibly because I could have made it. It is also my plan to one day execute these moves at someone's wedding. So, please, if you plan on getting married any time soon and inviting me, keep that in mind.

OK Go - A Million Ways Video. WMV 100 WMV 300 QT 100 QT 300

So come on. Who wants to join?

Calling All Geeks

I'm looking for some geeks to give me a hand. It's an idea for a business website and would use any combination of CSS/RSS/Ajax/DHTML and I know nothing about all of them. I have one geek giving me ideas, but I thought I'd contact other geeks.

Drop me a line if you have any clue what I'm talking about, or if you want to hear the idea and give me your ideas on how I could do it.

I'll pay you in mix CDs.

Best. Headline. Ever.

"Here comes Santa Claus again
With the liquor and drugs
And the flesh machine
He’s gonna do another strip tease.
Hey man, where’d ya get that lotion?
I’ve been hurting since I’ve bought the gimmick
About something called love
Yeah, something called love.
Well, that’s like hypnotizing chickens.
Well, I’m just a modern guy
Of course, I’ve had it in the ear before.
I have a lust for life"

T.J. Hooker Will Hook You Up

I get a lot of strange email. At first I thought this was spam (which technically it is), but I realized that they must know that it would appeal to me in some strange way. Not that I'd join. But, man, I hope his Esperanto movie is in the club.

Quote of the day: "I've always liked William Shatner as an actor, but I think I like him even more as a film critic."

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Contact:
Josh Silberstein
Fullturn Media
Phone: (917)804-5728
E-Mail: jsilberstein@fullturnmedia.com

Friday, December 16, 2005


William Shatner Launches DVD Club


Brooklyn, NY
William Shatner's new DVD club casts him in the one role he's not had during his storied 50-year acting career: film critic. The recently launched Official William Shatner DVD Club (www.ShatnerDvdClub.com), a DVD-of-the-month club, showcases the best sci-fi movies that didn't come to a theater near you. Shatner explains, "Determining what movies get broad distribution and studio marketing support is a complicated process, and unfortunately the caliber of the film isn't the only consideration. I've chosen a select group of memorable and entertaining sci-fi movies that never got the exposure they deserved, and made them available to fans everywhere at a great price."

While many of the films distributed by the William Shatner DVD Club have names that the casual fan may not recognize, those few fans who have seen these movies agree that they are underground hits. For example, in IMDB (the popular movie feedback website owned by Amazon.com), the following three recent movies received the same rating: Vanilla Sky, Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines, and Ginger Snaps. Terminator 3 grossed $418mm at the box office. Vanilla Sky topped over $200mm during an impressive theater run. And Ginger Snaps? Ginger Snaps (a North American production) grossed a whopping 146,125 Spanish Pesatas in a brief European engagement before becoming an afterthought in a crowded sci-fi market. And most American movie fans missed out on one of the best sci-fi films of the last five years.

Ginger Snaps was the first movie William Shatner included in the club, but it is not the only great movie with an unfamiliar name available to members. Close Your Eyes, a sci-fi thriller, won three awards at the Paris Film Festival in 2004, and took home top honors from the Swedish Fantastic Film Festival in 2002. Richard Roeper (of Ebert & Roeper) raves about Close Your Eyes, ""One of the best thrillers I've seen probably since The Ring." Immortal (Ad Vitam), a film which was never released in U.S. movie theaters, has been called "jaw dropping, highly detailed, and smoothly executed" (Movie-vault.com) and "strangely and almost hypnotically engaging" (Moviepie.com). More information about the movies included in the club is available on the official website (www.ShatnerDvdClub.com).

One of the benefits of featuring less well known content is that the movies are available at very reasonable prices. In fact, subscribers to the William Shatner DVD Club will own a new film every month for about the cost of a rental. At the very reasonable price of less than $4 per DVD (including shipping) William Shatner hopes to make his club available to all sci-fi fans. Right now, the William Shatner DVD Club is offering anyone with an e-mail address a free Ginger Snaps DVD. To take advantage of this offer, go to www.ShatnerDvdClub.com.

Adam Schwartz, one of the very first people to join the club, had this to say, "I had never heard of Ginger Snaps but it was a great movie. And they gave me a bonus disc with it, so I actually got two movies for free. I've always liked William Shatner as an actor, but I think I like him even more as a film critic."

All I Want for Christmas

Okay, it's not really for Christmas. I plan on buying something this spring. But I need to shop, right? And I need to compare and find what's right for me.

Of course I'm talking about a bike. And, despite some of the links below, I'm buying from an LBS.

anyway, here's my first choice. The Specialized Tri-Cross Sport. (The comp is more than I need.) It's sexy, fast, durable and just balls out cool. Here's the centerfold version. It will do everything I need. I can zip around on pavement like a demon and get my average speed higher. I'll be able to participate in longer rides and, not only that, I'll feel a hell of a lot cooler than I feel on my Giant MTB (Giant is the maker, not a descriptor). Don't get me wrong, I love my current bike. But my needs are changing rapidly.

Now, of course, I have to look at options. Yes the Tri-Cross feels the best, makes me happiest and what not. But what if there's something else out there that's better. So, my bottom must meet other saddles.

In no particular order:

The Bianchi Volpe. It'll do the job. And I'm changing my mind about steel. The Tri-Cross' aluminum frame is stiff and will feel great going at a good clip. But I'm a tad worried about how it'll perform on rougher surfaces. Steel feels pretty good going through muddy conditions . . . But it's also a little ugly. And it may not be what I want. But that may change by March. Besides, Gert's favorite road team is Liquigas (if you are European it's pronounced Leaky Gas), for obvious reasons. They're a Bianchi team. Not that it matters.

Trek XO-1. It's a nice bike. I like the wheel set. This would probably be number 2 on the list. What's it got going against it? Honestly? I don't want to seem like I'm out riding just because Lance was riding. And if I'm riding a Trek, even if it's not a road bike, well . . . you know. It doesn't have much going against it, except that it stretches the upper limit of my budget.

The LeMond Propad. Again, this is a nice bike. And another steel frame option. So, see the Bianchi for most considerations. This one's a slippery bastard. It's fast and it feels good. But, in the end, it rates down for some reason. It doesn't feel like it fits, I guess. Ito feels a bit utilitarian for the price. For that amount I wanted something lighter, I guess.

Finally, the strangest option. The custom build. My favorite bike shop has a guy who will do whatever I want to a Surly Cross Check. (Ignore the components on that list, it's just an example.) Steel again. And I could make it single speed (not that I would) or go all the way up to a triple. Components are limited to what he can get, my budget and my ideas. I can trick it out or keep it basic. They describe this frame as the Jeep of the cycling world. It's surprisingly light and pretty damn durable. Several racers in STL ride Surly frames and each bike is totally unique. There's something appealing about that. Plus, the only thing I worry about with the Specialized is the carbon forks. When carbon breaks, it breaks. Steel has a little more give. I'm well known for doing stupid things. Or, there was a case this summer where I was avoiding hitting another cyclist who skidded and fell that I had to go off the pavement and down a foot and a half lower at about 17 mph. I was airborne for a second and I hit the ground HARD. How I didn't go flying off the bike, I don't know. It certainly wasn't skill. With very no experience with carbon anything outside of dioxide, how would they have taken that impact? Plus, wouldn't it be perfect for me to ride something wit "Surly" emblazened on it?

Okay, so the forks are all I'm worried about with the Specialized. I dream about that damn bike. But, hey, no matter what I'll be dropping some good cash on a bike so I have to do my homework. Even if I'm pretty sure of the end result.

Oh, my other consideration is no matter what I get I have to get a second rear wheel and cassette so I can switch it out on the trainer.

Sorry. I'll wipe up the drool.

Poll: Most Effective Movie Music

Okay kids. Time for class participation. I'm curious what everyone thinks is the most effective piece of music used in film might be. Meaning: A song that was not written specifically for a movie--either popular or classical.

My top 3:

3. "Singing in the Rain" - A Clockwork Orange

2. Barber's Adagio - Most famously in Platoon. But I think it carries further emotional resonance in The Elephant Man. In Platoon you feel bad. In The Elephant Man, you weep. Plus, the entire (and haunting) soundtrack to Schindler's List owes everything to this piece of music (and traditional Jewish music, but you get my drift).

1. Also Sprach Zarathustra - 2001: A Space Odyssey.

In fact, I'd be willing to argue that Also Sprach Zarathustra might be the most recognizable use of music in film in history.

Honorable mention: "Stuck in the Middle With You" in Reservoir Dogs.

Things that Used to Be Good (But Now Suck) and other Random Thoughts

• Terry Gilliam
• Wim Wenders
• Paul McCartney
• HBO
• A lot of holiday music

Things I Never Really Liked

• U2
• Battlestar Gallactica
• Michael Bay
• Teen Pop
• Celebrity gossip, unless it's funny
• The Rolling Stones
• 80s music, unless it's ironic
• The dulcimer
• Ryan Adams
• Bryan Adams
• Adam Sandler
• Sand

Things that Make Me Smile

• Taking Joe Henry's music from Jesus's Son and reading a random blog outloud with it. My wife discovered that with properly placed pauses, you can create your own episode of This American Life.
• Let's face it, Joe Henry's entire catalogue today.
• The kids, natch.

Things that Shouldn't Exist

• Kevin Federline
• E!
• Any further editions of Survivor. They smell, we get it.
• Platypuseseseses. I don't even know how to spell them.
• The em dash. Seriously, why do we need more than one?
• Puffins. Personally, I feel penguins are just fine.
• Radio programming directors
• Other drivers
• Tiny, tiny women driving giant vehicles with which they need a booster seat to drive

It's Dead

Help! My iPod died. Kaput. No response. What do I do? It's less than six months old. It was bought through Amazon, I think, not Apple.

I . . . Can't . . . Live . . . Without . . . It.

UPDATE: I reset it. I don't know if it's working yet. Maybe it got stuck? I'm on my knees begging the great Jobs in the sky that it works . . .

UPDATE 2: It seems to be working. Okay. Breathe. Breathe.

UPDATE 3: You don't care, do you?

UPDATE 4: I don't think we should see each other anymore. If you can't empathize with me over my problems then I don't think we're compatible.

UPDATE 5: An iPod is important. Just go.

UPDATE 6: It's not me. It's you.

Years Falling Like Grains of Sand

You never met my mother. You couldn’t have, because she died before you had the chance. In fact, she died ten years ago. Today. Exactly.

My mother was a kind woman. Possibly the kindest you could meet. She had unimaginable patience, even for the most insufferable people. She opened her heart to all who needed help and would have given her last crust of bread to someone who she deemed needed it more than her.

She was my best friend.

She was the neighborhood mom. None of my friends called her “Mrs. O’Brien.” She was just “Mom.” Her patience and compassion spilled out to all of my friends, she made them feel welcome, and at home, even when she had made it clear to me that she didn’t want me hanging around certain individuals. In her mind, the only reason they might behave in ways that she felt were inappropriate was that they weren’t given the love and patience at home that they deserved. So, she gave them her love and patience. And, except for a few occasions that resulted in complete shunning by my group of friends for upsetting my mom, they responded in kind.

My mom was also a Mom. And I mean that as the highest compliment possible. She was always there for us growing up. When my dad died, she had seven kids she was still trying to get out of the roost. My oldest brother was married, but I had two brothers in college, sisters in various states of school or getting their own apartments and my brother and I who had just started junior high and kindergarten. It would have been a stressful time for any parent. However, her spouse had just died.

She never made us feel like we were missing anything. I scarcely remember a day when she wasn’t there. She always found a way to make ends meet and to make sure we had everything we ever needed. And, sometimes wanted. Had I known then what I know now, I never would have begged for an Atari 2600. But she found a way for us to have one.

She was always there. Always ready for us to cry. Always willing to take the abuse that we would heap upon our mothers at certain ages because we felt we were smarter or better than them. Now, of course, I realize who was the better person. Now, of course, I realize why she took that abuse and didn’t just wash her hands of whatever stupid situation I was blowing up into an “Incident.”

She was a supremely compassionate person. She took everything because she knew that we were suffering, in our own teen ways. Only she was wise enough to know that our suffering would end.

She, of course, knew of suffering. She was a child of the depression. She was a widow. She was raising a gaggle of children on her own. She rarely allowed a sickness to get her down. Even when she contracted pneumonia, she wouldn’t allow it to get the better of her.

However, when she came home and told me that she had cancer, in my heart I knew that this might be the one thing that would finally get the better of her. Pancreatic cancer has a dismal survival rate. And no matter how loved a person may be, even love cannot save you from the ravages of this disease.

I was numb. I was angry. But we worked through all of the treatments. Chemo therapy. Radiation. Surgery.

When the great surgery, which was to buy us maybe five more years with her, failed I took a hockey stick and just destroyed a portion of my basement out of anger and frustration. Fear.

She had a good summer, despite her illness and the decimating properties of her treatments. She still gardened, much to my embarrassment. She was able to visit her friends and family in the Chicago area. She went swimming in a lake, even though she was so thin and frail at that point that the life jacket was bobbing above her ears.

But in November things started going bad. She spent some time in the hospital, but came home a few days before Thanksgiving. I remember sitting and watching The Beatles Anthology on television with my brother as my frail, little mother slept on the couch.

Thanksgiving morning I was woken up by my brother. We had to get mom to the hospital. An ambulance was coming. She had been suffering all night long. Quietly, because she hadn’t wanted to bother us while we slept.

As she was being placed in the ambulance she called out to me to make sure I had my insulin. Even when she needed to be taken care of, she never stopped caring.

That was the last time she was at home. Within a week or so, she was gone.

I was there the night she died. But I left the room. I couldn’t bear the thought of being there as her presence left the room.

I lost my mother and my most trusted confidante in the same moment. It was devastating.

To this day, a decade on, I still turn around and think she’s behind me. There are times I almost pick up the phone to call her to tell her something. That I’m getting married. That I’m going to be a dad. That my daughter’s going to be on TV. That the girls want to come over and play.

It’s tough. The girls ask about Grandma Rita and Gert at times seems truly upset about lost opportunities. She assures me that she talks to Grandma Rita in her dreams. And, you know, with this kid I believe her.

Still, there are times, and this is not manly to admit (of course), when I miss her so much that it hurts. Times when the desire to pick up that phone is so strong, that it’s overwhelming.

My wife talked about a book she read with Gert the other night. That book is somewhat of a family joke because Daddy cries whenever he reads it. The girls will trot it out sometimes to wreck their old man. They sit and listen and pat my cheek as I get choked up.

It’s a simple story about a woman who loves her son. When he sleeps, she crawls into his room and picks hum up and sings a little song. In the end, the mother is old and sick:

The son went to his mother.
He picked her up and rocked her
back and forth, back and forth,
back and fort.
And he sang this song:
I’ll love you forever,
I’ll like you for always,
As long as I’m living,
my Mommy you’ll be.

Love you mom. I miss you.

Here are some songs that I think you would like. I hope you can hear them.

Jeff Tweedy - Please Tell My Brother
Joe Brown - I'll See You in My Dreams

It's Starting!

Um. When I wrote this about attack squirrels, I was kidding.

However, apparently I'm a prophet of doom.

Hide your nuts, it's going to be a hard winter.

It’s Over

Something is wrong and I can’t put my finger on it. It feels as though the universe is misaligned, something is askew and the Gods are showering me with a strange miasma. I no longer laugh. I no longer cry.

For example, this morning Gertrude decided three bites into her oatmeal that she no longer wanted it for breakfast. Why? Because it was too sweet. I began to scold her about wasting food and she interrupted me.

“Listen, man,” she said, “I had TWO cookies last night and my body just can’t handle any more sugar!”

That should have been funny. But it wasn’t. Why? Why wasn’t it?

Because in my head, I had the ELO song “Telephone Line” running over and over and over. The over-wrought lyrics. Symphonic sounds. Beatle-esque platitudes mixed with Moody Blues moodiness. It just kept going. (Here, the wonderful Wondermints wow you with their interpretation.)

But, oh, it got worse. “Livin’ Thing” got stuck in my head and I was filled with a need to get up and pump my left hip as I shook my hands.

I began to sweat and the kids looked at me.

“Daddy, are you okay,” Matilda asked.

“No. I . . . I need to feed my voice through a modulator while I sing. And I need my rock and roll to sound like it has been filtered through Erich Kunzel’s wheat germ. I need space-age neo-classical disco progressive rock and no one can stop me!”

Out of the Blue. Yes. “Mr. Blue Sky”. “Sweet Talking Woman”. “Turn to Stone”. Yes. “Across the Border”. No. No, that one sounds like Brian Wilson’s nauseated tones over a toilet.

What I need is a song that slowly builds to a giant crescendo and then crashes down in a sad denouement as we all cry at the loss in the song.

Oh yes. Electric Light Orchestra you are my guilty pleasure. I cannot stop today. I am Jeff Lynne’s bitch today. I need my music shined to a military polish. No improv, no room to wiggle. I need finely tuned, orchestrated music that fits neatly into its boxes. Synthesized strings! I need synthesized strings! Lasers! I need lasers!

Oh yes. I feel my hair growing into a Faux-Fro. And I have a sudden urge to wear suspenders and a white t-shirt while I boogie. I need help.

UPDATE: Nice work guys. We knocked the ELO video off the site. I'm proud of you all. Now, here's something to take your mind off of the saddness at the loss.

Cheer Up Charlie

I'm not in a good mood. Cheer me up.

Also, to anyone who may have emailed me say, one, two or three weeks ago and I haven't responded, it's nothing personal. My inbox is a nightmare and it just keeps getting worse. So, if you get an email answering a three-week-old question and have no idea why, just humor me.

Finally, new Belle & Sebastian track at Matador (though if you've been keeping score all along, you know this song):

Belle and Sebastian - Another Sunny Day

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Gert was bouncing off the walls, so I sat her down and had her do some visualization to calm down. I explained that it was relaxing and she was going to feel better.

When we were done, she did feel better. Much better.

"Dad," she asked, "how come you never relax?"

I suppose she doesn't find anxiety attacks as refresshing as I do.

A Thanksgiving Treat

Not much for this holiday. Like the food, but it has bad memories.

So here's a treat. A live copy of a road-testing version of a new Wilco song for their album that will be coming out someday. How's that for vague?

In true Wilco fashion, the song in this form will not resemble what ends up on the record. Either way, I like it. It's interesting. Simple. Bleak lyrics are always nice.

I'm happy they are taper friendly. It's fun to listen to the evolution (sorry, Intelligent Design) of a song. From "On a Private Beach in Michigan" to "Spiders (Kidsmoke)" is one of my favorites. I've really come to love that song.

Anyway . . .

Wilco - On and On and On (Live)

It Will Only Be a Dream

The other night while Gertrude was lying in bed, fighting sleep, she started bemoaning that “it would just be a dream.”

“What would be just a dream sweetie,” I naively asked.

“I want to play in the sunshine, but I know that I can only do that in dreams and when I wake up it would only be a dream!”

“Well, it was just cloudy today honey. Tomorrow you can play in the sun again.”

”NO! I want to play in the real sunshine. I want to play where it lives in the sky. But I can’t because I live on the ground.”

“You want to fly?”

“I want to play in the sky and I want to eat clouds. But it’s all just a dream!”

Wow, I thought. This kid has elaborate ideas for a four-year-old. The way she can work through the logic of a problem makes me worry about the fiction of Santa. I fear she’ll look at her presents this year and say, “Dad, about this whole Santa thing . . . I realize it’s bullshit. I mean, if that fat guy really made the toys, what’s with the packaging? The reindeer? HELLLLOOOO? Paging gravity! And, honestly, is it even LEGAL for the dude to enter our home in the middle of the night? It’s creepy. If he were real, and I highly doubt that, I would check to see if he stole anything. Surely he couldn’t run such a large operation without funding.”

I thought quickly, albeit poorly, and tried to make her feel better.

“Um. You wouldn’t want to eat a cloud. Airplanes fly through them and airplanes are dirty.”

“Oh,” she said, thinking. “I could go into the clouds and sunshine in an airplane! Daddy, when you went to Disney World you flew on an airplane. If you took me to Disney World I could play in the sunshine in the sky and see the clouds and it wouldn’t all be a dream!”

What the—How the hell did she twist that around on me? I can’t believe that. She just kicked my ass.

Touché child. Touché. You’ve won this round, but I will beat you next time. Oh, yes. I will.

A Murder Mystery

The Evidence,
originally uploaded by scifitwin.

A killing has taken place in the kitchen. I real whodunnit.

Only I know whodunnit. And he's furry.

It's a Party!

Pssst. Someone is thirty today but doesn't want a big deal made out of it. So I didn't. Just a quiet day with the family.

You, oh blogizens, have the freedom to torture her for days to come.

So, please. Be my guest.

Television Debut

She was AWESOME. Absolutely perfect. She looked relaxed, professional and (gulp) grown up! Seriously, she was so good she should be on Zoom.

I'll be waiting for the job offers to come in.

Hey, anyone want to digitize it so I can load it to my site?

Attention All St. Louisans

A certain blonde ten-year-old will be featured in her television debut tomorrow on Show Me St. Louis. She will be acting in a skit as if she is co-hosting the show.

Set your DVRs, VCRs, DVD Recorders, stone etchers, or scribing monks because this will be a keeper.

And, for $10, she'll be happy to sign an autograph.

I hope the world is ready for her first step toward world domination.

Rotten Mood

And I mean foul. Fire-breathing, acid spitting, profanity spewing, insult dropping, deep-seated irritation with the world at large. I'm not sure if it's anger. Or spite. Or maybe depression. I don't know. All I know is I wake up every morning with hope and greet the day happily. By 7 a.m. I want everyone to leave me alone and I'm considering ways of hitting people with folding chairs.

So, that's what's going on.

In order to work through whatever this thing is, I've decided to create an online mix of songs that match my mood. The beauty is that it uses the wonder of free online MP3s. Download them and make a play list in the order in which they appear below. And, for crying out loud, if you like one of the bands buy their albums (especially Yo La Tengo).


1. Yo La Tengo - "Saturday"

2. Epic45 - "You Said Nothing"

3. Grace Cathedral Park - "Play Delicate Desire Quiet"

4. Guided by Voices - "Window of My World"

5. The New Pornographers - "The Laws Have Changed"

6. The Minus 5 - "Lyrical Stance"

7. Neko Case - "If You Knew"

8. The Black Keys - "The Lengths"

9. Guided By Voices - "Everybody Thinks I'm a Raincloud"

10. Teenage Fanclub - "Its All In My Mind"

11. Magnolia Electric Co. - "Doing Something Wrong"

12. Yo La Tengo - "Little Eyes"

Guess Who Had A Princess Party?

And Waiting,
originally uploaded by scifitwin.

Oh yes. Someone is four. And she had a whirlwind weekend of being a princess and a ballerina.

I'm tired. No matter how simple we make a birthday, it still turns out to be the most tiring weekend of the month.

Still. She's cute, ain't she? Almost dangerously so.

My Traditional Veteran's Day Post

Subtitle: (What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding.

Also known as the post most likely to be misunderstood.

Today is Veteran’s Day (formerly Armistice Day). The day when the bank is closed, you can’t fix your traffic ticket and no mail arrives. What I think we all consider a major inconvenience. Because, after all, our National Holidays can’t have any other deeper meaning.

But, to me at least, a day set aside for the Veterans has no meaning. It’s an arbitrary day that no one notices and no one acknowledges. Even if we did, however, we’d still just use it as an excuse to sear animal flesh and consume libations.

Worse still, Veteran’s Day has replaced a day that had significance. Armistice Day. The day marking the end of WWI. That had meaning, but instead we grafted on an artifice honoring all veterans. Could you imagine if we turned Pearl Harbor Day into a day to commemorate all people who lost their lives as the result of a surprise attack? What meaning does that have?

None. It does nothing to remember the actual acts and sacrifices of veterans. So I suggest that we find a new day to commemorate all Veterans’ contributions to our lives. A day where any man and woman who served in a war gets the day off. People come over and clean their house, balance their checkbook, make dinner for them. Do whatever they need to have done. Better yet, ask them about their war experience. Because after being shot at, or worse, I think you deserve one day a year, for the rest of your life, to sit in peace and quiet and not have to worry about anything.

But that’s just me. I’ll keep Armistice Day. Not because I don’t believe Veteran’s Day is worthy. It just shouldn’t be today. Today we should stop and remember a moment when human beings managed to stop killing each other.

Below is the text of an email I’ve been sending out every year since I’ve had access to email. It reminds us what today is really about. Consequently, it was written by Kurt Vonnegut. Oddly enough, today is also his birthday. He is a veteran as well. And a former German prisoner of war from WWII.

“So this book is a sidewalk strewn with junk, trash which I throw over my shoulders as I travel in time to November eleventh, nineteen hundred and twenty-two.

“I will come to a time in my backwards trip when November eleventh, accidentally my birthday, was a sacred day called Armistice Day. When I was a boy, all the people of all the nations which had fought in the First World War were silent during the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of Armistice Day, which was the eleventh day of the eleventh month.

“It was during that minute in nineteen hundred and eighteen, that millions upon millions of human beings stopped butchering one and another. I have talked to old men who were on battlefields during that minute. They have told me in one way or another that the sudden silence was the voice of God. So we still have among us some men who can remember when God spoke clearly to mankind.

“Armistice Day has become Veterans' Day. Armistice Day was sacred. Veterans' day is not.

“So I will throw Veterans' Day over my shoulder. Armistice Day I will keep. I don't want to throw away any sacred things.

“What else is sacred? Oh, Romeo and Juliet, for instance.

“And all music is.”

To that I will add the following piece of Vonnegut’s. This comes from his classic novel Slaughter-House Five. At this moment, Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time and views a war movie in reverse. It’s a misguided hope, of sorts. Because I still believe that peace and prosperity are a possibility. I, too, am a fool.

"American planes, full of holes and wounded men and corpses took off backwards from an airfield in England. Over France, a few German fighter plans flew at them backwards, sucked bullets and shell fragments from some of the planes and crewmen. They did the same for wrecked American bombers on the ground, and those planes flew up backwards to join the formation.

"The formation flew backwards over a German city that was in flames. The bombers opened their bomb bay doors, exerted a miraculous magnetism which shrunk the fires, gathered them into cylindrical steel containers, and lifted the containers into the bellies of the planes. The containers were stored neatly in racks. The Germans below had miraculous devices of their own, which were long steel tubes. They used them to suck more fragments from the crewmen and planes. But there were still a few wounded Americans, though, and some of the bombers were in bad repair. Over France, though, German fighters came up again, made everything and everybody as good as new.

"When the bombers got back to their base, the steel cylinders were taken from the racks and shipped back to the United States of America, where factories were operating night and day, dismantling the cylinders, separating the dangerous contents into minerals. Touchingly, it was mainly women who did this work. The minerals were then shipped to specialists in remote areas. It was their business to put them into the ground, to hide them cleverly, so they would never hurt anybody ever again.

"The American fliers turned in their uniforms, became high school kids. And Hitler turned into a baby, Billy Pilgrim supposed. That wasn't in the movie. Billy was extrapolating. Everybody turned into a baby, and all humanity, without exception, conspired biologically to produce two perfect people named Adam and Eve, he supposed."

Happy Armistice Day.

Whoops

So, I spilled coffee on the server and it was very upset. Hence why I didn't answer anyone's emails today nor could you view the site.

Actually, I didn't break the server. But Super Web Guru fixed the server's problem. Huzzah. We're back.

Plus, I manage to get myself nice and sick. Have you ever coughed for more than thirty minutes straight while it felt like a thousand needles were being rammed into your lungs and someone was lobbing bricks at your chest? Can I get a witness? Hallelujah!

I was going to post earlier, but I forgot what I was going to say.

Instead, I will tell you about how much I'm enjoying Iron & Wine/Calexico's In the Reins. It's a fantastic EP and you should buy it.

Think of it this way: It's an atmospheric romp through the American west. An indie-folk-rock Western where everyone is depressed and cyncial while a drunken mariachi band plays some fantastic songs.

If that doesn't convince you then I have an offer you can't refuse. Go download a seven song live show by Iron & Wine with Calexico. For FREE! That's right, for a limited time (to be determined by the people with the actual files) even you can own this free live concert filled with such family favorites as:

* In the Reins
* Red Dust

Sung by the artists you know and love. And who could forget:

* History of Lovers
* Prison on Route 41

And, if you download now, we'll include, at no extra cost, 192 kbps encoding (ID3v2 tags not included). Act now!

Trust me. It's good. Enjoy the live show and then go buy the disc. You won't regret it.

I Don't Mean to Embarrass Anyone But . . .

I think that ship sailed on the day the security camera caught this one . . .

Worse? I think it's my brother.

Dear My Doctor's Office

Two weeks ago I embarked on an adventure that I like to call "A Cold". The first week, I had sniffles. I could live with that. Early last week I had sniffles followed by a stuffy head, mild fever and, late in the week, a cough.

At first the cough wasn't bad. But by Thursday I couldn't hold a conversation without being doped up with Vicks Formula 44 (yes, any medicine that is so powerful that it doesn't actually have a name has to be good). Friday morning I thought I was better. Then, that afternoon the cough returned. And it was angry. Saturday it stepped itself up. Last night, it was blatantly mocking me.

Now not only is the cough angry, but I believe it may be fanning out and sending troops into other parts of my body. What I'm saying is that the cough is slowly moving down my chest. Getting deeper. Harsher. More painful.

I would sincerely love to tell you all of this. I would love for you to tell me if a cold that slowly gets worse over a three-week-period is normal. Or if I have Whooping Cough. Or a new strain of the flu.

I can't though. Because for two days now your piece of shit phone has been busy. Non stop.

So I'm angry. You now have a consumptive with a bad disposition on your hands. If I finally do get in touch with you before I die, I will willfully spread my germs to your office staff.

For you, today, I offer this song:

Menomena - Cough Coughing

Consider yourself lucky that I went that route. When I started this post I was hoping I could find a song entitled "The Doctor With Really Painful Gonorrhea (It Hurts When I Pee)". Alas, no one has recorded that song yet.

Irony: I really like my doctor. I hate his phone.

The Demon What Growled in the Morning

Gert woke up in a foul mood this morning. Which is not to say she doesn't normally wake up in a foul mood. I fear it is genetic, for I also am generally not the nicest person until around 10 a.m. or so. As Mom says, we both have a difficult relationship with sleep.

But today was different. Gert was sprawled out on her bedroom floor on all fours with Mom clutching her in the middle, trying to get her shirt on so they could get to school. Gert, rather than protesting in her native language opted more for guttural utterance. In fact, she sounded much like a Tasmanian Devil in distress.

Gert is very cute, and very well behaved. But when she is upset, she goes feral very quickly.

Seeing Mom was in difficulty, and drawing upon my vast memories of film scenes (some of which I may actually confuse with my real life), I sprung into action. I grabbed Mom's water glass, sprinkled water on Gert and yelled:

"The power of Christ compels you!"

Gert immediately stopped and looked at me like I was nuts. I asked Mom if she had started crawling up the wall yet. No, she replied, but there was some head spinning.

Dazed, Gert looked at her mother and said, "The tag in my shirt is itchy". Tag was taken care of, and we were all happy.

I'm thankful it was the Exorcist that was on this weekend and not Mommy Dearest . . .

Dear Mike Love

Shut up. Please? I know it's difficult to pass into irrelevance with your nasally voice and ego the size of Nebraska. But, seriously, no one cares.

Also, you're lucky fans of the Beach Boys didn't sue YOU for marring the band by bringing in John Stamos.

P.S. We know you're bald so you can take of the stupid hat.

Yoda Sez . . .

You've been served Dark Side bee-yoch!

We Made Cookies

PB010002,
originally uploaded by scifitwin.

We had a kit that we didn't use for Halloween. So, since tonight was Daddy Night, it was also Cookie Night.

Gert cut out the cookies from the dough and we rolled the leftovers into sprinkle balls. Then, when the cut outs were done, she decorated them with icing. Don't tell Mom, but we may have eaten some straight icing.

And the cookies were good. Most don't even look like they were made without an adult's intervention. (I did the oven parts, but she did all the cutting and prep work with little to no advice from dad.)

Now I have to go peel her off of the ceiling.

Twas a good night. Too bad Mom and Sis were at knitting. They missed two dozen cookies.

Burp. Extra long bike ride tomorrow . . .

Synergy

If ever a website had synergy between its URL and its purpose, it would be this one.

Dear Glasgow Kentucky Electric Plant IT Manager

May want to talk to the asswipe who hit my site this morning at 9:41 a.m. from your domain through a search looking for "n**ked picturs of little gurls". Only not with the stars and not with the misspellings. I even have that jerk's full IP.

Oh, I suspect this boil on the ass of humanity knew exactly what he was looking for. And I also suspect his company-owned hard drive is well stocked with such photos.

Once you do check out his computer, do me a favor. Take a nice metal rod and pry it into nice open connection in your power plant so that you have a nice current running through it. Now take the guy who hit my site and back him slowly into that rod.

ScienceFictionTwin Soul

So, Mom was driving Gert to the sitter this morning and they were listing to the iPod. Since I was the last one to have the iPod, it happened to be playing all my Wilco tracks on random.

As fate wood have it, the Guthrie tune "Birds and Ships" from Mermaid Avenue popped up. In the space of the two minutes that it takes the song to play out, Gertrude said:

"Hey! I have this song on my good night CD, only it's a boy singing it."

Mom, thinking that there's no way a three-year-old can pick up on the subtle differences between versions of an obscure song, figured that she was probably thinking of something else. So she called Dad.

"Hey, we were listening to this song and Gert swears that she has it on her CD, but in a different version. I've never even heard it, but she's adamant that she knows a male version. Do you know what song she's talking about?"

"Why yes, yes I do. She's talking about the Billy Bragg demo version that's not commercially available. Didn't she mention that?"

"Ah," Mom said. "So she's going to be a freak like you, I guess."

Words Run Dry

Lame post. Going to be busy for a little while. Hope to actually get back to posting useful crap here, instead of just boring crap. This, by the way, would be considered boring crap.

So, I'll let someone else pull this out of the crap factory. The Gazetteers can rock a uke like few others. So, listen to them.

The Gazetteers - Bedroom Community

I Want To Be Nice To Everyone

The song came out in 2004. The video's been out for a while. Now it's in a Honda commercial. And people keep talking about it.

It's addictive. You can't not sing it. Corny? Perhaps. Do you expect Julie Andrews to start rocking the acoustic guitar? Yeah, a little.

But I can't stop singing it. It's so . . . happy. So unlike me that it seems almost wrong that I'm singing it.

Plus the squirrels rock in the video.

Grandaddy - Nature Anthem (Video)

And, for balance, this guy made a video for another Grandaddy song, using an Apple II. And I thought the only thing you could do on an Apple II was die of Cholera.

Grandaddy - Jed's Other Poem (Beautiful Ground) (Video)

I defy you not to sing "Nature Anthem" for the rest of the day.

Special Daddy Day!

So, bowing to much pressure not to send her to a sitter after pre-school, I kept Gert home with me today while I worked. It is known as a Special Daddy Day. It is special because she does not have to take a nap. Or something. I'm not quite sure because so far all she's done is criticize me, tell me to be quiet and complain about the amount of paper that is involved with my line of work.

When I picked her up from school, she refused to tell me about her day. "I don't remember," she said. "Please stop asking."

Um. Okay? Well, I said, I have to make a deposit at the bank, so let's go to the drive through. You get to watch the tube suck up the little cartridge thingy.

"Yeah, but can you be quiet? I'm trying to stretch my muscles after school and you keep talking."

After driving along in silence for a while, she made a point of telling me that my bank was inferior because it didn't give suckers. On this point I agreed. However, when she started discussing the bank's investment record I became worried.

Since it was a special daddy day I had planned on picking up lunch. What did she want?

"A Lunchable."

"Don't you want a pizza or something?"

"Yeah, but only you have to wait for a pizza and I'm hungry now."

We arrived home and we ate lunch in front of the TV like a bunch of slobs. It was great. After lunch we decided to watch a movie we had rented from Netflix, a place Gertrude assumes will magically send you any movie you can ever imagine.

Before the opening credits rolled she peeled off her overalls and was sitting in the couch in her underwear. When I scolded her for this her response was:

"I'm not going anywhere today." When I pointed out we had to go pick up her sister at 4 she responded, "Well, I'll just put them back on, won't I?"

Needless to say it's been a strange afternoon. And, despite my plan to get some work done, I've gotten very little done. I haven't even been able to answer emails.

Besides, she's not wearing pants. I'm a little frightened by her bohemian tendencies today.

I've Lusted in My Heart

In fact, I still am.

This is how it's loaded at the shop I'm looking at. Might go with a different crankset, though. And those aren't the pedals I'll use (pedals aren't included). But ain't it purty?

For the record, I've also looked at Bianchi (if I rode one, though, I'd have to get a Liquigas jersey), Trek, Kona, Fuji, Cannondale, Redline and IF. A few I couldn't afford at all, but I like looking at them. But they all keep coming back to this one, which is the first one I looked at.

Now, just gotta find that money . . .

Tired, Busy and Irritated

Still working on an emergency for a project. If I ever finish this project, and right now it seems like I may die trying, I will buy everyone a drink*.

So, to make everyone happy (and no one at the same time) go off to Wilcoworld.net and listen to a four track preview of their new live album Kicking Television. The titular song (giggle) is what my head sounds like right now. Only more melodic. Wilco live kicks ass, so you should enjoy it. If you don't there's something wrong with you and I can't possibly help. I suggest therapy. Or hitting yourselves in the head repeatedly with very heavy objects.

*Disclaimer: Gary will only agree to supply water from a public drinking fountain, most likely one with lukewarm water at a public park. The kind that burble and spit at you when you step on the little steppy thing that opens the valve. He will not be held responsible for any communicable diseases, a la John Snow and the water pump in England. In fact, it's an at your own risk proposition. In fact, given Gary's mood lately, odds are he'll give you a time and location and won't even show up himself. It's probably better for all of us that he not go out in public. Rumor is he bites these days.

La Mah Na Mah Na

Ever wonder what the Muppets masterpiece "Mah Na Mah Na" would sound like if it were sung by a Brazilian pederast smack addict?

Wonder no more.

Now, I'm sure the singer was a perfectly nice guy who was trying to make a living selling Samba records. And selling Samba records is a perfectly respectable living. Antonio Carlos Jobim was a genius and wrote some of the most compelling music of the 20th century. And Astrud Gilberto infused many of them with a warm sensuality that makes me want to chase after her now, despite her advancing age.

But, really, this just sounds like your Dirty Uncle Ernie after a few highballs and a rousing game of "Sit On My Lap and Let Me Tell You a Story About the War".

Blame for this music file sits squarely on the shoulders of Sabadabada who provides me with a bi-monthly fix of some of the strangest, yet wonderful, Brazilian gems you could never find on the store shelf. God bless 'em for his work, but damn him to hell for this one.

Dear Stupid People

Please stop trying to contact me today, either be fax, email or telephone. In the long run you only hurt yourselves because, well, I'm going to have to stick my foot up your ass. And I'm wearing hiking shoes with very hard soles. It won't be comfy nor enjoyable.

In fact, my goal would be to send your rectum flying out of your ears. So, seriously, STOP. For the love of all that is good and sacred, STOP.

Take your vapid, moronic prattle and unload it on someone who actually gives a rat's ass about your "issue". Because, frankly, I'm not caring right now.

Thanks.

Oh, one last thing. If you're stupid, don't leave a comment either. Half-witted, mono-syllabic ass goblin.

Name That Tune

I think it's a TV theme they are playing. The song before this in the set was the theme to the Spider-man cartoon. But this I can't figure out. Anyone know?

Wondermints - Unknown Live at Spaceland

For anyone who can name the song and provide an example of the original, I'll give you not only my eternal gratitude, but also a giant bucket of Jack Shit(TM) at absolutely no cost to you.

You Gotta Have Goals

It may seem like a little thing, but it's something I've been working toward. Today I achieved my 25 mile training ride. That's 1/4 of my goal distance (though that eventual ride will be slower paced). I have much happiness. It didn't hurt. I didn't die. I didn't fall off my bike. I did have to stop and refill my water, but it was warmer today than it should be.

My advisors have been dead on with the advice they've given me. The books have all been right. And, it's amazing how an hour or two on a bike can fly by. Better than therapy.

I learned a few things today.


1. I need to switch bikes for these rides. Old faithful is great for this, but a little clunky for what I'm trying to do now. It's like asking a Jeep to do a sports car's job. (Not that I don't love my bike. I just need two now.) I was able to pace someone on a much faster bike for 2 miles at 21 mph. If I were on a lighter bike with tires that made less contact with the road, I honestly think I could have held on a little longer. I'm even antsier now for the upgrade.

2. I get a disturbing sense of glee out of steep hills.

3. I get a disturbing sense of dread out of slow, long inclines.

4. Even with good shorts, your butt hurts.

5. St. Louis County Park water tastes gross.

6. Be careful where you store your Gu.

That's all. I'm just happy. And, right now on the cycle log site where I'm tracking my progress, my unspoken arch nemesis and I are exactly .24 miles apart in our October tally. Based on his riding patterns I'll be able to log some good middle-length mid-week rides where he only rides short rides. I'm on track to hit and surpass my goal of 200 miles per month. I'm at 120 so far. Groovy.

So, in celebration, music. Though there is disagreement in the house as to which song. So, I give you both.

My wife suggests this:

"Glorious" by A. Graham and the Moment Band

Which, of course, is a good choice. Very apropos of the feeling of happiness. But, I suggest this:

"Alive & Amplified" by The Mooney Suzuki

Just because it's a loud, boisterous song. The album kind of blows in comparison to their previous output though.

Holy Jeebus

This is brilliant. Pure brilliance. Simple genius. I love this man.

Because I'm an Idiot

I'm working on a "covers project" whereby I'm collecting my favorite cover songs and putting them into a CD set. I have some rules that change daily, so I won't explain my selection process, but here's what I have. It's long and boring and probably enough evidence to get me committed. But It's a good listen.

1. The Aluminum Group - Caroline, No (Beach Boys) (3:40)
2. Johnny Cash - One (U2) (3:53)
3. Annie Hardy - God Only Knows (Beach Boys) (3:15)
4. Rasputina - Fire And Ice (Pat Benatar) (2:14)
5. Drugstore - She Don't Use Jelly (Flaming Lips) (2:32)
6. Belly - Its Not Unusual (Tom Jones) (2:20)
7. Pas/Cal - Duchess (Scott Walker cover) (2:40)
8. Cat Power - Sea Of Love (2:19)
9. Otis Redding - (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction (Rolling Stones) (2:48)
10. Nicoletta - Le Grand Amour (Dusty Springfield) (2:13)
11. Pizzicato Five - The Girl From Ipanema (Jobim) (3:48)
12. Seu Jorge - Life On Mars? (David Bowie) (3:26)
13. Madeleine Peyroux - Between The Bars (Ellliot Smith) (3:45)
14. Rasputina - Tourniquet (Marilyn Manson) (3:25)
15. Wondermints - Open My Eyes (Live) (Nazz) (2:48)
16. Dealership - Major Tom (Coming Home) (David Bowie) (5:00)
17. Teenage Fanclub - Here Comes Your Man - (Pixies cover) (3:02)
18. Stanford Counterpoint - Don't Speak [acapella] (No Doubt) (4:19)
19. Flaming Lips - After the Gold Rush (Neil Young) (4:14)
20. Cornershop - Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown) (Beatles) (2:27)
21. Saint Etienne - Only Love Can Break Your Heart (Neil Young) (4:30)
22. Whistler - At Seventeen (Janis Ian) (3:28)
23. Silent Gray - Fitter Happier (Radiohead) (3:19)
24. Game Theory - I Want to Hold Your Hand (Beatles) (2:15)
25. David Alexandre Winter - Qu'Est Ce Que J'Ai Danse! (Archie Bell & the Drells) (2:29)
26. DJ Zebra - Jerk the Casbah (The Clash) (3:44)
27. Wondermints - Arnold Layne (Pink Floyd) (3:29)
28. Uncle Tupelo - I Wanna Destroy You (The Soft Boys) (2:30)
29. Cake - I Will Survive (Gloria Gaynor) (5:10)
30. Cat Power - (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction (Rolling Stones) (3:05)
31. Susan Voelz - Ode To Billy Joe (Bobbie Gentry) (6:20)
32. Jack Johnson - Holiday (Madonna) (3:49)
33. Kathryn Williams - All Apologies (Nirvana) (3:34)
34. Holly Golightly - Tell Me Now So I Know (The Kinks) (2:02)
35. Darren Hanlon - Dont Stop (Fleetwood Mac) (2:27)
36. Flaming Lips - Somewhere Over the Rainbow (3:45)
37. The Cat Empire - Hotel California (Eagles) (4:39)
38. Oranger - Make It With You (Bread) (3:21)
39. TV On The Radio - Mister Grieves (Pixies Cover) (4:11)
40. Rasputina - All Tomorrow's Parties (Velvet Underground) (4:23)
41. Rasputina - Bad Moon Rising (CCR) (3:29)
42. Wall of Voodoo - Do It Again (Beach Boys) (3:21)
43. Wondermints - Bubbles (Live in Tokyo) (Free Design) (2:06)
44. Steve Ward - Another Day (Paul McCartney) (3:43)
45. Iron & Wine - Peng! (Stereolab) (3:26)
46. Thea Gilmore - Cover Me (Bruce Springsteen) (3:37)
47. Wondermints - Getting Better (Beatles) (2:50)
48. Badly Drawn Boy - Thunder Road (Bruce Springsteen) (5:37)
49. Whistler - I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself (Bacharach) (2:40)
50. The Pictures - Milkshake (Kelis) (2:48)
51. Lou Reed - This Magic Moment (The Drifters) (3:23)
52. Superchunk - 10,000 Fireflies (Magnetic Fields) (3:17)
53. The Postal Service - Suddenly Everything Has Changed (Flaming Lips Cover) (3:52)
54. Nouvelle Vague - Guns of Brixton (The Clash) (4:06)
55. The Last Town Chorus - Modern Love (David Bowie cover) (4:14)
56. The Luxury Liners - Believe (Cher) (2:51)
57. High Llamas - Frankly, Mr Shankly (The Smiths) (3:54)
58. Rasputina - Wish You Were Here (Pink Floyd) (4:23)
59. Aimee Mann - Baby Blue (Badfinger) (3:51)
60. David Byrne - I Wanna Dance With Somebody Who Loves Me (Whitney Houston Cover Live) (4:52)
61. Johnette Napolitano & Danny Lohner - The Scientist (Cold Play) (5:07)
62. Fountains of Wayne - Can't Get It Out of My Head (ELO) (3:55)
63. Fantastic Plastic Machine-Steppin Out CR (Joe Jackson Cover) (5:28)
64. Jason Falkner - Photograph (Def Leopard) (3:12)
65. The Clash - I Fought the Law (Bobby Fuller Five) (2:39)
66. Steve Burns - Strange (galaxie 500) (3:43)
67. Paul Anka - Eyes Without A Face (Billy Idol) (3:59)
68. The Diskettes - How Bizarre (omc) (3:49)
69. Wondermints - I Wanna Pick You Up (Brian Wilson) (3:21)
70. Nina Gordon - Straight Out Of Compton (NWA) (1:49)
71. Nickel Creek - Tomorrow Is A Long Time (Bob Dylan) (3:34)
72. Clem Snide - I'll Be Your Mirror (Velvet Underground) (3:27)
73. Cat Power - Wonderwall (live) (Oasis) (2:42)
74. Johnny Cash - Hurt (Nine Inch Nails) (3:38)
75. Clem Snide - Donna (Ritchie Valens) (3:50)
76. Super Furry Animals - Warmth of The Sun (Beach Boys) (3:30)
77. Rage Against The Machine - Another Brick In The Wall (Pink Floyd) (4:18)
78. Camper Van Beethoven - I'm Not Like Everybody Else (The Kinks) (3:24)
79. Ted Leo - Since U Been Gone (Kelly Clarkson) (3:38)
80. Fountaings of Wayne - Baby One More Time... (Britney Spears) (3:13)
81. Lemonheads - Mrs Robinson (Simon and Garfunkel) (3:45)
82. Dion - Book of Dreams (Bruce Springsteen) (3:01)
83. Stiv Bators - It's Cold Outside (The Choir) (2:53)
84. Supersuckers - Hey Ya! (Outkast) (4:06)
85. Lust For Life - Bad Livers (Iggy Pop) (1:52)
86. Scarling. - Creep (Radiohead) (3:52)
87. Devo - Ohio (Buffalo Springfield) (3:21)
88. Local H - Toxic (Britney Spears) (3:23)
89. Sonic Youth - I Know There's An Answer (Beach Boys) (3:03)
90. Kristen Hersh - Pennyroyal Tea (Nirvana) (3:00)
91. The Connells - Insane In The Brain (Cypress Hill) (4:12)
92. Prozak for Lovers - London Calling (The Clash) (3:19)
93. The Early November - The Power of Love (Huey Lewis) (5:18)
94. Milo Binder - Dancing Queen (ABBA) (3:07)
95. Wilson Pickett - Hey Jude (Beatles) (4:07)
96. Wondermints - Knowing Me, Knowing You (ABBA) (4:07)
97. Dar Williams - Comfortably Numb (Pink Floyd) (5:26)
98. Ben Folds - She Don't Use Jelly (Flaming Lips) (4:13)
99. Uncle Tupelo - I Wanna Be Your Dog (Stooges Cover) (3:04)
100. Marie Laforet - Marie Douceur Marie Colere (Rolling Stones) (2:53)
101. Lesley Gore - Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap (AC/DC) (4:02)
102. Of Montreal - Know Your Onion (The Shins) (2:26)
103. Bonnie 'Prince' Billy - Puff The Magic Dragon (Peter, Paul & Mary) (3:43)
104. K.D. Lang - After the Gold Rush (Neil Young) (4:03)
105. HIM - The Reaper (Blue Oyster Cult) (6:24)
106. Self - Stratford On Guy (Liz Phair Cover) (3:04)
107. The Nirvana Sitar & String Group - The Letter (The Boxtops) (1:51)
108. Stevie Wonder - We Can Work It Out (Beatles) (3:12)
109. Al Green - I Want to Hold Your Hand (Beatles) (2:20)
110. Ben Harper - The Drugs Don't Work (The Verve) (4:00)
111. The Divine Comedy - With Whom to Dance (Magnetic Fields) (2:42)
112. Thompson, Richard - Oops! I Did it Again (Britney Spears) (3:36)
113. Grant McLennan - If I Should Fall Behind (Bruce Springsteen) (3:02)
114. Kathryn Williams - Spit On A Stranger (Pavement) (3:23)
115. Nick Cave - Here Comes The Sun (Beatles) (2:58)
116. Low - Nowhere Man (Beatles) (2:46)
117. They Might Be Giants - Maybe I Know (Lesley Gore) (2:05)
118. Ben Kweller - Ice Ice Baby (Vanilla Ice) (1:51)
119. Uncle Tupelo - Suzy Q (Live) (CCR) (7:13)
120. The Beautiful South - Don't Fear The Reaper (Blue Oyster Cult) (4:03)
121. Evan Dando - Knowing Me, Knowing You (ABBA) (2:18)
122. the Mountain Goats - The Boys Are Back In Town (Thin Lizzy) (3:55)
123. David Byrne - Sock It 2 Me (Missy Elliot Cover Live) (4:12)
124. Supersuckers - Eastbound and Down (Jerry Reed) (3:22)
125. The Shins - We Will Become Silhouttes (Postal Service Cover) (3:01)
126. Heather Nova - I'm on Fire (Bruce Springsteen) (2:58)
127. Josh Rouse - It Don't Matter to Me (Bread cover) (2:49)
128. Last Town Chorus - Do You Really Wanna Hurt Me? (Culture Club) (3:50)
129. The Light - Lori Carson (Todd Rundgren) (3:50)
130. The Lemonheads - Fade To Black (Metallica) (3:21)
131. Death Cab for Cutie - All is Full of Love (Bjork) (3:19)
132. Loud Family - A Horse With No Name (America) (4:12)
133. Rachid Taha - Rock el Casbah (The Clash) (4:34)
134. Red House Painters - Long Distance Runaround (Yes) (4:41)
135. Black Box Recorder - Seasons In The Sun (Jaques Brel/Terry Jacks) (2:40)
136. Wondermints - Porpoise Song (Monkees) (3:12)
137. Kronos Quartet - Marquee Moon (Television) (4:13)
138. The Band - Atlantic City (Bruce Springsteen) (5:16)
139. Ben Folds - Tiny Dancer (Live) (Elton John) (5:25)
140. The Posies - I'm Looking Through You (Beatles) (2:58)
141. Talking Heads - Take Me to the River (Al Green) (5:02)
142. Nouvelle Vague - I Melt with You (Modern English) (4:00)
143. Ben Gibbard (with Ben Barnett) - Joga (Bjork) (3:01)
144. Steve Burns - Dead (TMBG) (3:55)
145. John Wesley Harding - Jackson Cage (Bruce Springsteen) (3:29)
146. Game Theory - Couldn't I Just Tell You (Todd Rundgren/Utopia) (2:56)
147. Hole - Paradise City (Guns N Roses) (4:18)
148. Miles Davis - Time After Time (Cindi Lauper) (9:59)
149. Baby Lemonade - How Deep Is Your Love (Bee Gees) (3:36)
150. They Might Be Giants - One More Parade (Phil Ochs) (2:22)
151. The Postal Service - Against All Odds (Phil Collins) (4:12)
152. Johnny Cash - Heart of Gold (Neil Young) (3:01)
153. Seu Jorge - Rebel Rebel (David Bowie) (2:26)
154. Ivy - Be My Baby (Ronettes) (4:41)
155. Negro Problem - MacArthur Park (Jimmy Webb/Richard Harris) (3:29)
156. M. Ward - Let's Dance (David Bowie) (5:00)
157. The Aluminum Group - Sweet Child O' Mine (Guns -n- Roses) (4:18)
158. The Ramones - Surfin' Safari (Beach Boys) (1:47)
159. Iron & Wine - Such Great Heights (Postal Service) (4:10)
160. Drive-By Truckers - Like A Rolling Stone (Bob Dylan) (6:03)
161. Vic Chesnutt - The Nights The Lights When Out In Georgia (Vicki Lawrence) (4:34)
162. Madness - You Keep Me Hangin' On (The Supremes) (3:10)
163. The Wiggles - Walk On The Wild Side (Lou Reed) (1:45)
164. Wilson Pickett - Sugar, Sugar (The Archies) (2:59)
165. Lounge Brigade - Iron Man (Black Sabbath) (3:53)
166. Claude Francois - J'ai Combattu la Loi (Bobby Fuller Four) (2:10)
167. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - What a Wonderful World (Louis Armstrong) (3:03)
168. Reel Big Fish - Hungry Like The Wolf (Duran Duran) (3:37)
169. The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain - Smells Like Teen Spirit (Nirvana) (4:24)
170. The Farmers - Crocodile Rock (Elton John) (2:39)
171. Fountains of Wayne - Better Things (Kinks cover) (3:10)
172. Screaming Jets - My Heart Will Go On (Celine Dion) (3:18)
173. Loud Family - Re-make Re-model (Roxy Music Cover) (3:51)
174. Vyvienne Long - Seven Nation Army (White Stripes) (2:47)
175. Prozak For Lovers - Love Will Tear Us Apart (Joy Division) (3:34)
176. The Decemberists - Human Behavior (Bjork) (4:16)
177. Dolly Parton - Help (Beatles) (2:44)
178. David Byrne - Gypsy Woman (Crystal Waters Cover live) (3:48)
179. Shonen Knife - Daydream Believer (Monkees) (2:52)
180. Jon Auer - Beautiful Stranger (Madonna) (4:18)
181. Hole - Hungry Like a Wolf (Duran Duran) (1:41)
182. My Morning Jacket - Suspicious Minds (Elvis Presley) (4:05)
183. Sufjan Stevens - The One I Love (REM) (2:37)
184. The Concretes - Miss You (Rolling Stones Cover) (3:31)
185. Kelly Hogan - Papa Was A Rodeo (Magnetic Fields) (4:29)
186. Mercury Rev - Caroline Says (Velvet Underground) (3:56)
187. John Wesley Harding and Kelly Hogan - A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock 'N' Roll (Donny & Marie) (2:35)
188. Si*Se - Just Like Heaven (Como el Chico) (The Cure) (3:48)
189. Mercury Rev - Raindrops Keeps Falling on My Head (BJ Thomas) (2:02)
190. Scissor Sisters - Comfortably Numb (Pink Floyd) (4:26)
191. Oranger - Vegetables (Beach Boys) (2:39)
192. And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead - Porpoise Song (Monkees) (3:06)
193. Mojo Nixon & The Second Edition - Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In) (First Edition) (4:44)
194. Candyskins - She Dont Use Jelly (Flaming Lips) (3:21)
195. Blind Melon - Candy Says (Velvet Underground) (3:30)
196. The Free Design - I Found Love (Styrofoam & Sarah Shannon Mix) (3:49)
197. Frank Alamo - Heureux Tous Les Deux (The Turtles) (2:49)
198. Wondermints - Ooh Child (The Five Stairsteps) (3:31)
199. Sebadoh - Cold As Ice (Foreigner) (2:28)
200. Clem Snide - Beautiful (Christina Aguilera) (3:54)
201. Mary Lou Lord - I Don't Want To Get Over You (Magnetic Fields) (2:26)
202. Eileen - Ces Bottes Sont Faites Pour Marcher (Nancy Sinatra) (2:36)
203. Linus of Hollywood - Warm and Beautiful (Paul McCartney) (3:08)
204. Death By Chocolate - If You Want To Sing Out Sing Out (Cat Stevens) (2:42)
205. Derrick Harris - Don't Worry Baby (Beach Boys) (3:35)
206. Delgados - Mr Blue Sky (ELO) (5:23)
207. Blind Melon - Three Is A Magic Number (Schoolhouse Rock) (3:14)
208. Okkervil River - Unravel (Bjork) (4:38)
209. John Edwards - Tin Man (America cover) (3:46)
210. Rex Daisy - Welcome Back (John Sebastian) (2:47)
211. Bran Van 3000 - Cum on Feel the Noize (Slade/Quiet Riot) (3:22)
212. Black Box Recorder - Rock 'n' Roll Suicide (David Bowie) (3:06)
213. Kings of Convenience - The Luckiest Guy On The Lower East Side (Magnetic Fields) (3:24)
214. Noise For Pretend - It's Oh So Quiet (Bjork) (4:41)
215. Number One Cup - Here (Pavement Cover) (3:38)
216. Weezer - Mrs Robinson (Simon and Garfunkel) (3:43)
217. Dealership - Anarchy In the U.K. (Sex Pistols) (2:38)
218. Marie Laforet - D'Etre A Vous (Bob Dylan) (2:53)
219. Godhead - Eleanor Rigby (Beatles) (3:43)
220. Whistler - All Apologies (Nirvana) (3:13)
221. Glen Hansard & Colm Mac Con Iomaire of The Frames - Everytime (Britney Spears) (3:49)
222. Don Ho - Shock The Monkey (Peter Gabriel) (4:09)
223. Ben Gibbard - Complicated (Avril Lavigne) (4:30)
224. Wondermints - You Need Love (The Hollies) (2:56)
225. Johnny Hallyday - Mal (Deep Purple) (2:40)
226. Presidents of the USA - Video Killed the Radio Star (Buggles) (3:23)

I'm a Tally Ho

Okay, serious bikers will laugh, but to those of us who used to exercise by changing the channel manually, this is significant.

After toying all summer, I officially hit the bike on September 10th with a training program and a desire to:

1. Get in shape.

2. Ride a century.

3. Not die young.

Considering the statistics for professional cyclists and heart attacks before the age of 40, well . . . I should be happy that I'm slow. I've been talking with a Cat 1 cyclist/trainer who happens to be an exercise physiologist (and yes, he's one of my authors) who has been helping me safely tweak out my plan for the century and avoid "underperformance". That he's almost got me convinced to custom build a bike with a $3000 frame only means he understands my inner geek. Plus, I've been getting great advice from a physicist/cyclist who not only helped me avoid headaches, but actually managed to teach me to travel backwards in time.

Anyway, since getting on the bike (and recording this stuff, not counting riding with the kids are goofing around in the neighborhood) here are some statistics:

Hours in the saddle: 17.5
Miles travels: 238
Average Speed: 14.2 MPH
Maximum Speed: 24.4 (And I freaked out and slowed down.)
Longest Ride: 17.355 miles

Frighteningly, I'm starting to get to "know" the other riders on the trails. We seem to keep the same schedule. I'm still the pudgy guy on the mountain bike, but one day . . .

Today, after I crossed back over the Missouri river into St. Louis County some guy and I were having fun quietly chasing each other. He'd pass me, I'd pass him. Once we whipped around back toward the lake the game ended because of a bitch of a head wind. Made it feel like riding through oatmeal.

My point being, I'm addicted. I love biking now. Freaky. I love the exercise. Even freakier. And I plan on sticking with it. Will I ever race? Hell no. Have you ever seen how close those guys get to each other? Too complicated. Will I ever ride in an organized event? Yes.

Am I considering getting a Racer X jersey? Hell yeah.

So, if you live in St. Louis and are bored Saturday mornings, I usually hit the trail between 9 and 10 for my long ride of the week. Sailboat Cove at Creve Coeur Lake. Come join me.

Or else . . .

Tomorrow is a Long Time

Tomorrow I leave for out of town and, while I'm looking forward to the trip in some respects, I'm also filled with dread. I know it's sad to admit this, but I've only been away from the kids once in last two years. And during that time I was miserable and called to check on them every two minutes. It's sad.

At least on that trip I had my wife to keep me grounded. Being as I'm traveling alone, with a cell phone, I fear I'll be calling every few minutes. "What did Gert say five minutes ago? Did Matilda get an A on her math test? Let me talk to the dog."

Look. I'm a homebody. I'm not adventurous. And I like my family. I know that makes me uncool. I know I'm supposed to be like most of the other parent bloggers who lament everything they've lost because they squirted out a pup or two. But me, well, I can't think of a single thing I've lost or regretted (except giving Gert the cup of hot chocolate she once promptly vomited up). In fact, my life is enhanced. Music is better, has more meaning. I've found a new obsession that was ignited not by a friend or a magazine article or because it's cool but because my three-year-old daughter has an interest.

So even though I'm only going to be gone from Friday morning until very late on Saturday (I'll leave while they're sleeping and come home while they're sleeping), I'm going to miss the little bastards. And I'm going to buy a lot of guilt presents.

Plus, I have to figure out what to do about the two dead fish my neighbor gave me.

Don't worry. My wife will explain.

Light Week

I'm going to have a light week here, so not much writing. Suffice it to say:

1. I'm still riding my bike.

2. I'm getting better at it and more jealous of people with cooler bikes.

3. My kids are cute.

4. And getting cuter, smarter and more kids are jealous of them.

I'm going out of town Friday and will be back by Midnight on Saturday. I don't plan on sleeping much on this trip. It's a secret trip. The kids don't have a full grasp on where I'll be for this 36 hour period. They just know that it's a business trip (i.e. there's a reason for going) and that I'll miss them like crazy. All I'll say is that there is a possibility that I may see a giant mouse.

In the meantime, here's a new song by The Acid House Kings. It's a head bopper.

Acid House Kings - Do What You Wanna Do

Van the Man

WFMU has posted a bunch of tracks from Van Morrison's legendary Bang Sessions, in which he turned over a bunch of crap in order to get out of a contract. (Yay stereogum for pointing everyone there.

Now, some of you may think this is all chuff and chattel. Nothing worth listening to. You would be wrong.

For my money, The Big Royalty Check is better than "Brown Eyed Girl."

The Cuteness

It's all about the cuteness. You can't deny it, nor can you put your finger on it. There's no one thing that defines it, yet there's no predicting it. It's like a mist that surrounds you, envelopes you, overtakes you.

Just don't touch it.

You see, Gertrude, since starting preschool, has discovered her cuteness. And she often talks about her cuteness, though she is careful not to describe it or make it too real, lest we be able to normalize her, make her less of the toddler goddess that she is.

These days it looks like her cuteness is displayed via overall shorts with a bandana or headband. This is her favorite outfit to wear to school and, because she only has two sets, the teachers now think we dress her in the same clothes every day.

But, each morning, we'll be sitting at breakfast and Gert will ask through a dribbling mouthful of cereal, will ask, "Do you like my cuteness today?" Since I never know what is making the cuteness, I always answer, "Yes" and wait for her to point me in the direction of what pleases her.

Sometimes her cuteness takes assembly, like the time she brushed her hair for an hour with a doll brush. If you touched her hair, she would scream that she would have to start over and you'd be banished from the room. Cuteness takes time. And effort. And you're just messing it up.

Like yesterday. We were quietly eating our breakfasts and there was a hair clip on the table. So, me being the jovial guy I am, I placed it in Gert's hair, just to the side of her the bandana that was holding it behind her ears.

A darkness came across her eyes as she looked at me. "YOU ARE RUINING MY CUTENESS." She stepped off her chair, pointedly removed the clip and stomped off to her room to undo the damage I had done.

I now live in fear of her cuteness. It may be lurking around any corner. It could be the muddy shoes, or the stray hair stuck to her cheek. Or maybe the Oreo glaze around her mouth after she finishes her desert.

Whatever it is, if I touch it with my big, dumb hands, I will be killed. And probably deserve it.

A Mostly True Conversation in which Daddy Learns a Lesson

Gert: And I want the baby that cries. Real tears! That's what I want for my birthday.

Me: Good choices sweetie.

Gert: What do you want Daddy?

Me: It's your birthday coming up, not mine. But I want a new bike.

Gert: Did you ask Mommy? Maybe she will get you a new bike.

Me: No, Mommy said I haven't been a good boy this year, so she won't get me one.

Gert: Aaaaah. It's probably because of that potty mouth you keep using.

Me: Fuckin' A, Bubba.

Cycling: Week Three Report

I’ve been riding hard four to five times a week (and on a bike doing something the other days) for three weeks now so I thought I’d bore you with some observations. Anyone who has ridden a bike will probably laugh at me and say, “Oh how naïve”. But, keep in mind, this is the only exercise I’ve ever enjoyed and stuck with.

1. I’m a bigger guy. Not a competition size, and I never would be. Too tall, too broad. But I could stand to lose a few pounds. You’d think after three weeks of such hard exercise, I would have lost weight. But, no. I’ve gained weight. Three pounds.

2. To be fair, all three pounds are probably muscle on my thighs. I’ve always had large thighs, but riding at a constant cadence for the purpose of endurance have change them. I’d say they are about a third larger than they were and I’m starting to see definition.

3. And with that increase in size has come soreness. As my wife likes to say, building muscle is breaking down and rebuilding. Well, last night she massaged the muscles in my legs, specifically muscles along the sides that I can’t seem to figure out how to stretch before and after I ride. Holy crap. Talk about agony and ecstasy. We had just watched a documentary on Cycling.tv about a team’s quest for greatness and the opening shot was of a rider getting a massage. He was screaming and tears were welling in his eyes. To a much, much, much lesser extent, I understand why he was doing that.

4. The muscles feel good now though. I took a short ride this morning to blow off some steam and shot right up a mile-long hill. Well, maybe not shot up, but I didn’t tire out like I did when I first started that hill.

5. I now understand what it means to “crack” on a ride. I was a little more than halfway through my ride on Saturday (far from my car, across a river and in a different county). On my return trip, I cracked. My legs just didn’t have it in them anymore. Luckily, there’s a good downhill section and that part of the ride, so I was able to complete my ride and not die. But, man, going over that looooooong flat road was hell. I never thought I’d pray for a hill, but I knew that if I had an uphill section I’d have something to push against, if that makes sense. But the flat plain was just killing me that day.

It’s not the same as running out of energy, because I wasn’t exhausted. My legs were fatigued.

Good news is that I recovered and was able to take my leisurely cool down around the lake. But I will never forget that stretch of road. It looked really long.

6. Cold weather is coming and I have some decisions to make. Years ago I rode in cold weather a lot. There’s nothing like the feeling of cold, dry air slicing through lungs desperate for oxygen. It sucks. So does that feeling of needing to rebend your fingers that are so cold they feel like they’ve molded into the shape of your handle bars.

I think I set a temp limit this time and then pick up a trainer to keep in shape. I’ll ride outdoors in good weather and on the trainer in bad. St. Louis is unpredictable, so it could be in the 70s in December. Plus, the trainer will be a good opportunity to get used to the SPD bindings. I’ve had other cyclists explain, “Yeah, in the first week or so you’ll fall over a lot trying to get your feet out, but you’ll get used to it.” I’m getting multi-use pedals so I can ride with Gert on a whim. Plus, there’s something about being able to have one foot free for a few strokes while going through an intersection that appeals to me.

7. The Physicist has pointed me in the direction of the bike, or at least the style of bike, I want for the riding I want to do. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mountain bike. But it’s too heavy and bulky for what I want to do. That being said, it’s probably a good training tool. Like, my wife says, it’s like putting weights at the end of a baseball bat. So I have a goal of a bike that will probably cost me a minimum of $1200, if I bring my own pedals. I’m looking at a few other brands too, but this one comes highly recommended by a few people whose opinions I respect. Besides, with that bike I’ll be able to go farther, harder and faster. Plus, it’s closer to what the cyclists I admire ride. Not that there’s anything wrong with MTB. And I could at least have a chance to catch those Cannondale guys from last week.

Okay, sorry to bore you. Back to your regular lives . . .

And, yes . . . I'm becoming one of those people. And I like it.

It's a Record!

I've written nothing interesting on this blog all summer. In fact, the time I've spent putting together what I've posted should be considered a giant waste of time.

Ah, remember the days when I would tell stories and make funny comments? Apparently those days are gone. It appears that I'm no longer either interesting nor am I funny.

I mean, outside of my family I'm pretty much irritable and miserable all the time. You'd think I could turn that into comedic gold. Instead I turn it into desire for sleep and revenge (not in that order).

Feh. Chalk up another useless ten minutes. Of course, you read it. What's wrong with you? Go listen to the grass grow or something.

Side note: Is it odd that blogger's spell check doesn't contain the word "blog"?

Perdition's Flames

Ow. My stomach is on fire today. I mean on fire. So bad that the mere thought of ingesting anything violates an article of the Geneva Convention. Sigh. Even coffee.

Damned GERD. Damned GERD medication not working.

Ow. Pity me.

Or suffer my acid spouting wrath.

Whimper.

Sorry. That was all very gross. So, here, this is to cleanse your mental palate:

Sleepy . . .

Man, I'm tired. First full week of hard bike riding and there are a few things I've noticed.

1. My ability is increasing. My planned ride on Friday and Saturday were both about 30% longer than I had planned because I felt really good.

2. Time didn't allow much riding yesterday. (Hey man, it was my six year anniversary with my lovely wife. We had to stare longingly into each others eyes.) So, after dinner, Gert, Mom and I all hopped on our bikes and rode around. I spent most of the time riding up and down a hill as fast as I could. Mom joined in as well. When I started back on the bike, that hill killed me one time up. Yesterday I was able to do it six or seven times at full speed. My legs didn't hurt. In fact, they felt good. Really good.

3. Speaking of full speed . . . Saturday I was riding around the lake. It was a foggy morning, so the trails were covered in a fine mist. It was really nice. I had just started my ride and was moving at a pretty good clip on a nice flat, long, straight section. When I had hopped on the trail, there were no other bikers to be seen and I could see at least half a mile in each direction. As I'm riding, just getting into my rhythm, I hear this sound. It's kind of a whirring or a hum. Nothing ahead of me, nothing behind me that I can see.

Then, all of a sudden, two riders on Cannondales come whizzing past me like TIE Fighters in Star Wars. Now, I was going pretty fast, but these guys . . . wow. Granted their bikes weigh as much as my pedals and they were obviously training for something serious.

Then, one of them leaves the trail and rides down to the road that runs parallel to the trail. This gave me time to catch up to him as he headed perpendicular to me. Then, there was a small downhill section as I started heading under a bridge and he remained flat.

Bastard passed me while I was going down hill and he was moving across a flat plain.

Now I'm jealous. My stupid bike is heavy and cumbersome. His is light and fast. Of course, I can ride on the gravel paths and off trail (where I bent one of my wheels a few years ago, so . . . you know . . . it balances out).

I did get my revenge later in my last mile. There were four bikers on really expensive bikes and I was trailing behind them for a mile or so. I decided to pass them, so I powered past them in my lowest gear and just pushed as hard as I could back to the end of my ride.

Of course, they were on tandems, but I still blew past them.

Ride

Started my intensive riding this weekend. Did a really nice sixteen mile ride on Saturday that took me across the Missouri river. It was fantastic. I'm planning on doing varied distances and courses to help me get in better shape. Today will be about 12 miles, mostly flat.

The best part about Saturday, I have to admit, is a particularly cruel climb to get to the first bridge that will take you over the river. It's a trail that's pretty flat, but then you hit this thing that is like suddenly going up two painful stair cases. I felt good because I just leaned into it and kept a steady pace and made it up without too much pain. Plus I passed a bunch of people.

Overall it was a good ride.

The only bad thing, and this was more apparent on Sunday (shorter but harder ride) is that I seem to be getting exercise induced headaches. I'll talk to my doc about them on Friday, but it's seriously pissing me off.

Anyway . . . Here's a song to fit the theme.

Me and My Shadow

Last night after dinner, and prior to Gert’s Princess Party, I felt the need to have something sweet. So, looking over our various choices of gourmet snacks and desserts, I chose a nice Lucky Charms, special chocolate edition. Gertrude chose to partake in the sweet yumminess as well.

I sat eating my cereal and reading the business section of the newspaper. A minute later, Gertrude hops off her chair, walks behind me and returns with a section of the paper. She opens it and props it up against the napkin holder, just like my section. She eats as I eat. She turns the page when I turn the page.

“Dad,” she says, “I’m just like you. I want to be like you. You are my buddy.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” I said, “we have to make some changes. First, you have to develop serious stomach acid issues. Then, you must become passionate about something and then devour it. That something can be music, songwriters, authors, or even particular subjects like physics. Once you have devoured one subject, you must then enter a deep depression because you’ve run out of things to be obsessed about. It’s a vicious cycle.”

“I think I’ll also handle stress very poorly,” she said.

“Excellent idea. Make sure you come up with conspiracy theories and run your close friends out of town, preferably to separate coasts.”

“How come we never watch bike races anymore,” she wanted to know.

“Well, because no one covers any of the races. But, on the 18th, there will be a one-hour highlight show on the Vuelta. Which should be interesting, considering it’s a three week race.”

So, we decided to cut out some pictures out of some cycling magazines. Though I steered her away from a photo of a derailleur and some brakes, she chose some good photos. She went off to take a bath and I told her I’d hang them up next to her other cycling photo.

After bath, she came into her room and saw her new shrine.

“Cool,” she exclaimed, jumping onto the bed to investigate closer.

“Hey,” she said pointing toward Lance’s leg “where’s the . . .”

(Crap, I thought, she’s going to ask for a printout of Roberto Heras’ leg, isn’t she? I knew I shouldn't have shown her that photo . . . )

“. . . Screw thing that holds the other pictures up?”

“You mean the tacks, like in Matida’s room? I just used tape.”

“Oh,” she giggled, “I thought you used your Daddy magic.”

Damn. She’s good. So I bought her a pony.

Forgive Me

But I like this song. I can't help it.

If that freaks you out a little, try this song. It's very good.

The Suitcase of Courage

Really just pulling from the Paul Sherwin quotebook here.

Don't click this link.

You clicked it. Why did you click it? I told you not to.

Still, I imagine Roberto Heras dreaming about dancing around the prostrate body of Alessandro Petacchi. But it would all be a dream, of course.

Ooooh Fuuuuuudddddggggggeeee

Ever make a mistake, notice it too late and then have everything go into slow motion because no matter how many times you say you're sorry it's not going to fix the issue and you know there's someone off in another state who's really pissed off at you now?

I'm so screwed.

Sigh.

What exactly do you do in that situation? I don't think everyone is going to be super mad at me. But I'm super mad at me. And now I feel like I should quit what I'm doing, become a hermit and never talk to another human being again.

Besides, I always felt work was overrated. What does it get you?

Money.

But what does money get you?

Taxes.

What do taxes get you?

Reflux.

What does an ulcer get you?

Medication.

Nowhere in there do I see super powers. Just once, instead of getting my thumb sliced on a mandolin slicer, can't I get bitten by a radioactive spider? Or blasted by gamma rays? Or at least have a swollen middle finger so I could be "Super Flick Off Man".

No. All I get is a headache and more work. It's like black mold. You can never get rid of it. And if you can get rid of it, you lose your insurance.

Tired

I punctured my back tire this weekend. Go figure. On my bike, by the way. I think it knew I was talking about replacing it with something newer and faster. So it cut itself. My bike is a cutter.

Anyway, I like this song (the one linked in the title).

That's all.

Dig Deep into the Bucket of Pain

I have to thank Paul Sherwin for that title. He and Phil Ligget should put out a book of the strange metaphors they use to describe cycling races. "He's screaming up the side of the mountain like a frog in fire!" They never used that one, but I swear sometimes you never know what they'll say.

Anyway, that's beside the point. Posted a new Radio SFT playlist. This time it's to reflect the fact that I've been riding my bike a lot more and am planning on doing much more. There's a lot of references to the sun and heat. And pain.

Had a nice long talk with a guy at the local bike shop (not my favorite bike shop that is sadly now closed) about what my intentions are and if I need to buy a new bike or not. Looks like we're going to make a few changes to what I have and maybe upgrade down the road. Given the fact that my main intention is to ride on a gravel trail, ultimately on a multi-day trip, I'm afraid a cool road bike is out of the question. Sigh. Which is fine. I think I knew I'd never race. I'm too damn big, anyway. My family is built as linebackers, not sprinters.

But, I need to buy some pedals, shoes, swap out my tires for some slicks, etc. I think this is my best choice because if I get the hankering to go off the trail again and nearly kill myself trying to avoid rocks larger than one of my brothers, then I just need to put some new tires on. Looks like I'm going to get some Shimano multi-use pedals, given that I will sometimes just need to hop on a bike and ride with my daughter. She won't wait for me to change my shoes.

I also want a new helmet. And gloves. And some cold weather gear. And a trainer so I can keep working in the really cold months and continue getting into shape. And . . . I need more money.