Celebrity
The other day I discovered that my neighbor Glen, a little man with a white beard in his mid-80s, is NRHA hall-of-famer "Smokey" Glen Stokey. The man is a legend in the top fuel drag racing world, both as a driver and a builder of dragsters from the 1950s into the '70s. Here are a couple of pictures of one of his cars circa 1961 sporting blown twin Chevy small-blocks. It's definitely a prime example of Louis Sullivan's credo "Form ever follows function." I'd love to see this thing face off against a riced-out Integra.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Tuesday, September 19, 2006Coffee
I got thinking about coffee the other day, and realized how little I know or care about the intricacies of coffee culture. (At this point you may be wondering, if I know and care so little about it why am I blogging about it? To which my answer is: Isn't that what blogging is all about, exposing one's ignorance and apathy to public mockery?) Anyway, to me, I like my coffee like I like my men, strong and black and full of alcohol and reeking of unfiltered cigarette smoke. The fanciest coffee drink I ever get is a cool pint of porter with a hot shot of espresso, downed quickly to enjoy the simultaneous sensation of hot and cold. After a couple of those, I'm feeling pretty good.
Anyway, that's all I have to say about that particular drug delivery system. Now crack on the other hand, that's an evil evil chemical cocktail, by the time I was doing my thesis I was up to a case a night, often the generic knock-off shit which was even worse. I've been off it for almost 9 months and it's been one hell of a ride. Nothing's ever had it's hooks in me like that stuff, even nicotine which I can go without for months at a time without ever experiencing a nic-fit.
Anyway, that's all I have to say about that particular drug delivery system. Now crack on the other hand, that's an evil evil chemical cocktail, by the time I was doing my thesis I was up to a case a night, often the generic knock-off shit which was even worse. I've been off it for almost 9 months and it's been one hell of a ride. Nothing's ever had it's hooks in me like that stuff, even nicotine which I can go without for months at a time without ever experiencing a nic-fit.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
poverty
I'm in a self imposed state of poverty right now. Not really, but I've been sticking money away to cover the co-pay on the impending birth of my daughter (according to the ultrasound technician that is, it could be a puppy for all I could tell from the grainy picture) so I've had relatively little petty cash for luxuries like CDs, booze, cigarettes and strippers. Come to think of it, I can't imagine anything else I'd want to buy...
Fuck, what was I talking about? Who wrote all this shit anyway? Damn, I've been drinking again... Never mind, I guess I do (or did) have enough money for booze. Praise Jesus. Even though they're stale, I still have some smokes, and The Hold Steady just posted another song on their Myspace page. Now If I can find a stripper willing to dance for a 2$ bill and some loose change, I'm set.
I guess life is good after all.
Fuck, what was I talking about? Who wrote all this shit anyway? Damn, I've been drinking again... Never mind, I guess I do (or did) have enough money for booze. Praise Jesus. Even though they're stale, I still have some smokes, and The Hold Steady just posted another song on their Myspace page. Now If I can find a stripper willing to dance for a 2$ bill and some loose change, I'm set.
I guess life is good after all.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Seriously
No more birthdays? Come on people, this is a chance to use that $120,000 liberal arts education for something other than filler on the application for night manager at Arby's. I know for a fact that one of you was born on the same day as the Fall of Saigon, the 30th anniversary of the suicides of Adolph Hitler & Eva Braun, and the 75th anniversary of the death of Casey Jones.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
History
Late last night, with a sigh of relief, the Wife noted that she was glad that our baby wouldn't have that infamous date as her birthday. Last Thursday when we checked briefly in to the hospital with yet another complication, I was intrigued to discover that the maternity ward was full of women having labor induced. It dawned on me that one reason might be that they were trying to avoid the date as well. But this enlightened me to a similar parallel. So here's a quiz for everyone born after 1970; without looking it up, quickly think of the dates of the following events: JFK assassination, MLK Jr. assassination, Kent State, and Richard Nixon's resignation. Maybe you remember a couple of those off the top of your head, but to our generation those are simply dates in history. To our parents they were world changing events which scarred those dates in their memory. This too is what September 11 means to us. But for our children it will be something they read about in books and see in documentaries, an important turning point in history to be sure, but history nonetheless. We realized that not having our daughter yesterday was far more important to our own cultural superstitions than it would be to her. So here's your extra credit assignment, tell me what atrocities occurred on your birthday in History. My birthday, for example, is the anniversary of simultaneous Japanese attacks on Midway and Luzon in 1941.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Stickers
I finally threw out my old boom box. I had a strong sentimental attachment to it, but like my old dirt bike, I've long known that it's time was past. The tape deck died thirteen years ago, and the volume control only worked at a couple locations, otherwise it blasted out static. For several years I'd been operating the CD controls with a screw driver or pencil jamming in where the buttons used to be. Over the last decade it had been relegated to my studio, then the basement, and ultimately the garage. It could not read most CD-Rs, and this last spring the player conked out altogether. None of this shit is probably of any interest to you, but I figured some of you might appreciate the stickers.
Okay, so while some of you may recognize My Friend Stu or Loin Groove, few will likely recall my old roomate's band, Not With Harry, who produced far more in the way of stickers than any actual music.
Okay, so while some of you may recognize My Friend Stu or Loin Groove, few will likely recall my old roomate's band, Not With Harry, who produced far more in the way of stickers than any actual music.Friday, September 08, 2006
Macaca
I've discovered that I have a Darwin's Tubercle on my right ear. Not that I just noticed it, but I never knew what that bump was. It's another vestige of our simian ancestors, still prominent on our distant cousins the Macaques. I think it's pretty damn cool. Not nearly as cool as my third nipple though.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Revival
Breaking another one of my drunken promises here, but The Little Man In My Head has jammed this lyric into my temporal lobe:
A post over at Pointing & Giggling reminded me of the bible camp I went to as a kid. We had swimming and capture the flag and dining hall and camp songs and a shitload of hungry mosquitoes constantly attacking us, and every night at chapel they called for kids to come to the front and be Born Againtm, but I was usually too busy looking over at the girls' side to pay attention to that stuff. I always figured I should first get me some actual sinnin' under my belt before I blew my load on forgiveness. Anyway, one night after chapel we played a game called "Communists and Christians." I don't remember exactly how the game worked, but suffice it to say that it seemed to be a whole lot more fun over on the communist team. The irony appeared to completely escape the counselors. I wonder if they play games like that at Patrick Henry College.
As he lights an American SpiritStill, no fucking way I'm smoking GPCs.
He asks how I can smoke such shit
I say there's nothing like chain smoking GPC cigarettes
'Cause any smokes will kill ya'
But these will make you feel like it
A post over at Pointing & Giggling reminded me of the bible camp I went to as a kid. We had swimming and capture the flag and dining hall and camp songs and a shitload of hungry mosquitoes constantly attacking us, and every night at chapel they called for kids to come to the front and be Born Againtm, but I was usually too busy looking over at the girls' side to pay attention to that stuff. I always figured I should first get me some actual sinnin' under my belt before I blew my load on forgiveness. Anyway, one night after chapel we played a game called "Communists and Christians." I don't remember exactly how the game worked, but suffice it to say that it seemed to be a whole lot more fun over on the communist team. The irony appeared to completely escape the counselors. I wonder if they play games like that at Patrick Henry College.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Links
I put some links back at the top of the page. I even added one of the Daves I know, even though he always annoyed the shit out of me.
PS, I'm still listening to Johnny Hobo on continuous loop. I'm sending them $5 tonight.
PS, I'm still listening to Johnny Hobo on continuous loop. I'm sending them $5 tonight.
Commentary
The only politician who makes any sense to me is Joe Lieberman. He thinks the government should control your financial life and your personal life... and the rest of the world's lives to boot. Hell, at least he's consistent. So if you're going to vote this fall, vote for Joe. I don't care where you live, just write him in for every office. Because he is the perfect representation of what government does. Don't kid yourself, even though most people like to talk about freedom 'n' shit, what they really want is a nanny/police state. And that's exactly what they'll get.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Folkcore
Take Evan Greer, add equal parts liquor, anger and apathy, and you get Johnny Hobo and the Freight Trains. Full on acoustic hardcore. I have that frequency modulating pirate bastard to thank for turning me on to them. I think I'll burn him a mix CD in gratitude.
Update: Studio versions of New Mexico Song and Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby are available here as well as two other low-fi tracks.
Update: Studio versions of New Mexico Song and Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby are available here as well as two other low-fi tracks.
Monday, September 04, 2006
News
I can't completely escape it. I just heard that Steve Irwin is dead. Apparently killed by a Sting Ray. Not sure if they meant the fish or the 'Vette. Regardless, I believe this signifies the end of the Darwin Awards. Really, who can top this guy? Well maybe one other Aussie showman with no sense of self preservation, Alby Mangels. Picture Irwin in a banana hammock with wild hair and a steady procession of high grade tail to put Scott Baio to shame, and you'll come close. But contrary to odds and the laws of nature Mangels is still kicking. Maybe the Creationists are on to something.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Hitching
Yesterday was the first official day of my "No news is good news" pledge. So far so good. This of course forced me to do some serious overhaul work on my iPod playlist since I'm not listening to NPR, talk radio or KYRS (at least not when Amy Goodman is on) anymore. Fortunately I still have two noble pirates to keep me satisfied around town. I've come to a startling realization that the two most represented bands on my iPod are Abba and Bad Religion. It might just be due to alphabetical placement, but it's frightening nonetheless. However, the single artist trophy has to go to Joe Strummer by a long shot. The man was a music making machine.The other morning I had an increasingly rare experience. I picked up a hitchhiking carpenter from Ireland. He's been working his way across the country for six months, and was headed for Seattle for one last job before flying home. We talked about construction, skinhead assholes, and clubs in the Twin Cities. He'd been to America several times over the past fifteen years, and said that he was going back home for good this time. He was cagey with me about details but the gist of it was that the bureaucratic police state has become unbearable. It was not exactly a startling revelation but interesting to hear from the perspective of an outsider. I dropped him off a couple exits past my usual turn-off so he wouldn't have to walk across downtown, and I wished him well on his journey.
I don't know if you've noticed, but there seems to be a dearth of hitchhikers these days. With the exception of a guy who needed a 2 mile ride home from the grocery store in White Salmon while I was driving on the Washington side of the Columbia River last spring, it's been years since I gave anyone a ride. A decade ago you could find someone with a destination in mind and a story to tell at any exit. It's awfully hard these days for a guy like me who often used this form of transportation to make good on his hitching karma.
