On John Wesley Harding
He's five feet from me tuning his guitar. Sarah and I are totally geeking out, but trying to look like we're not. He and Scott McCaughey are harmonizing, and it feels like the keys underneath my fingers are picking up the vibrations, doing excited little dances timed to the jackhammer thumping of my heart.
Mar 13, 2003
Mar 12, 2003
On the Music Panelist Greenroom
I am sitting in it. We're on our first day of music panles, kind of a low key warm up for the big shindig tommorw through Saturday. Interactive ended yesterday, and all my old and new freinds have scattered their seperate ways with stories to tell about me. I have stories to tell about them, and they are coming, including the inception of Jump in the truck with Jeff that hopefully will now follow Break Bread with Brad, reports from the dugouts at Kick3, how hard I killed at Fray this year, leading to the monumental success of 20X2. Of course, the ultimate goal is to spend several days surrounding myself with smart creative people, laughing, learning and growing from them, and I hope my tales of their exploits due them all justice, because I love them all. So stay tuned.
(Also, this is my first post ever done on a Mac, the powerbook G4, and I am totally ready to make the switch, in only about 3 hours. I also finally realized how bad my site looks on Mac, so I promise to get it fixed.)
I am sitting in it. We're on our first day of music panles, kind of a low key warm up for the big shindig tommorw through Saturday. Interactive ended yesterday, and all my old and new freinds have scattered their seperate ways with stories to tell about me. I have stories to tell about them, and they are coming, including the inception of Jump in the truck with Jeff that hopefully will now follow Break Bread with Brad, reports from the dugouts at Kick3, how hard I killed at Fray this year, leading to the monumental success of 20X2. Of course, the ultimate goal is to spend several days surrounding myself with smart creative people, laughing, learning and growing from them, and I hope my tales of their exploits due them all justice, because I love them all. So stay tuned.
(Also, this is my first post ever done on a Mac, the powerbook G4, and I am totally ready to make the switch, in only about 3 hours. I also finally realized how bad my site looks on Mac, so I promise to get it fixed.)
Mar 9, 2003
Mar 6, 2003
On Getting to Know Me
You all should. I am a really fascinating guy. Here's some stuff you need to know:
1) I like to list things about me that are fascinating. There are lots of them. I am extremely fascinating, and it helps to understand if you can see it in list form.
2) I often fascinate others. People occasionally just stop and stare at me. An Englishman stopped right in front of me the other day and said, in his typical poncy British accent, "Fascinating."
3) British people are facinating, but slightly less fascinating than I am.
4) I can fascinate at the drop of a hat. Fascinate on a dime. I am quite speedy when fascinating people. Zero to fascinating in 2 seconds flat.
5) Being fascinating gets me a lot of dates. My social life is much more interesting and dramatic than yours. This is because I am simply fascinating.
6) Being fascinating also makes me a lot of money. I am so fascinatingly wealthy that I don't know what to do with my money sometimes. However, this does not mean that I will send you some of my extra cash. I give it away to mostly fascinating charities, like the Austin Home for Wayward Scantily-clad Alcholic Women. After all, they need to sober up so that they can fully appreciate how fascinating I am.
7) I am much more fascinating than you are.
8) I like tacos.
9) I am fascinating to the French, the Germans, AND the Russians, which is difficult.
10) Children love me. It's true. They run to me when I am in their presecence and dance about at my feet, laughing and singing songs. I fascinate them.
11) Kevin is awesome. I am fascinating. It's a subtle but important difference. 20X2 is both awesome and fascinating because of us. Mostly me.
12) I am also awesome, but don't tell Kevin. He gets down sometimes when he realizes that I am BOTH awesome and fascinating, but he is just awesome.
13) Ryan is rad, which is an outdated term, but he likes it. Ryan is neither awesome nor fascinating, but he's ok with that.
14) I am also fascinating to animals. I know this because of our dog, Indie. She is fascinated by me. Then again, she is fascinated by ice.
15) If you repeat the same word often enough, over and over again, it begins to lose all meaning in your minds, and becomes difficult to understand. This phenomenon, like myself but to a much lesser extent, is fascinating.
16) Kevin and Ryan like tacos.
You all should. I am a really fascinating guy. Here's some stuff you need to know:
1) I like to list things about me that are fascinating. There are lots of them. I am extremely fascinating, and it helps to understand if you can see it in list form.
2) I often fascinate others. People occasionally just stop and stare at me. An Englishman stopped right in front of me the other day and said, in his typical poncy British accent, "Fascinating."
3) British people are facinating, but slightly less fascinating than I am.
4) I can fascinate at the drop of a hat. Fascinate on a dime. I am quite speedy when fascinating people. Zero to fascinating in 2 seconds flat.
5) Being fascinating gets me a lot of dates. My social life is much more interesting and dramatic than yours. This is because I am simply fascinating.
6) Being fascinating also makes me a lot of money. I am so fascinatingly wealthy that I don't know what to do with my money sometimes. However, this does not mean that I will send you some of my extra cash. I give it away to mostly fascinating charities, like the Austin Home for Wayward Scantily-clad Alcholic Women. After all, they need to sober up so that they can fully appreciate how fascinating I am.
7) I am much more fascinating than you are.
8) I like tacos.
9) I am fascinating to the French, the Germans, AND the Russians, which is difficult.
10) Children love me. It's true. They run to me when I am in their presecence and dance about at my feet, laughing and singing songs. I fascinate them.
11) Kevin is awesome. I am fascinating. It's a subtle but important difference. 20X2 is both awesome and fascinating because of us. Mostly me.
12) I am also awesome, but don't tell Kevin. He gets down sometimes when he realizes that I am BOTH awesome and fascinating, but he is just awesome.
13) Ryan is rad, which is an outdated term, but he likes it. Ryan is neither awesome nor fascinating, but he's ok with that.
14) I am also fascinating to animals. I know this because of our dog, Indie. She is fascinated by me. Then again, she is fascinated by ice.
15) If you repeat the same word often enough, over and over again, it begins to lose all meaning in your minds, and becomes difficult to understand. This phenomenon, like myself but to a much lesser extent, is fascinating.
16) Kevin and Ryan like tacos.
Feb 28, 2003
On Audio Blogging for the First Time Ever
audblog audio post
The quote comes from one of my favorite short stories, The Man Who Rowed Christopher Columbus to Shore by Harlan Ellison.
audblog audio post
The quote comes from one of my favorite short stories, The Man Who Rowed Christopher Columbus to Shore by Harlan Ellison.
On Gettin' Ready, 'Cause it's Comin' at Ya Like a Ton a Bricks, Bitch.
Monday, March 10th is The Big Day. Haven't checked out my new button below (because writer boy has been so deeply ensconsed in the bar biz that he quit writing, and you, my Gracious Reader got a little less Gracious and tuned out)? Well, What RU W8ing 4?
Can't wait to meet this guy and his band, as he is my new role model.
Monday, March 10th is The Big Day. Haven't checked out my new button below (because writer boy has been so deeply ensconsed in the bar biz that he quit writing, and you, my Gracious Reader got a little less Gracious and tuned out)? Well, What RU W8ing 4?
Can't wait to meet this guy and his band, as he is my new role model.
On The Movie Quote I have Been Hearing In My Head Every Time I Listen to the News
"Today I settle all Family Business"
- Al Pacino, The Godfather
I remember how disappointed I was when, after weeks of counting and he lost, he still gets to be President (I mean, I don't get to be President, I'm just sayin'). I also remember in the first days and weeks after Sept. 11th that I was actually a little glad that we had Dubya in the White House, because he clearly was not gonna put up with this shit. Time to strap on the guns, Dad, watch me kick some ass, just like you did.
But who's he shooting at, and why? (I'm back to wishing the Democratic Stuffed shirt had pulled it off.)
The who is about to be Iraq. The whole country. Not Saddam Hussein and his weapons of mass destruction, which apparently are both highly lethal and seem to have some sort of stealth capability. Not the people who perpetuate his power as a dictator, not his personal Goerring's and Himmler's. Not the people that are oppressing the citizens of Iraq, who according to even the White House, are the most intelligent well eduacated population in the Arab world. That's who were gonna end up shooting, and blowing up their homes, and maiming their children. Just average guys and girls, living out their lives under the thumb of a nut-job and just trying to get a loaf of bread on the table.
The why? Best I can tell, its Family Business, 'cause I don't feel any safer.
"Today I settle all Family Business"
- Al Pacino, The Godfather
I remember how disappointed I was when, after weeks of counting and he lost, he still gets to be President (I mean, I don't get to be President, I'm just sayin'). I also remember in the first days and weeks after Sept. 11th that I was actually a little glad that we had Dubya in the White House, because he clearly was not gonna put up with this shit. Time to strap on the guns, Dad, watch me kick some ass, just like you did.
But who's he shooting at, and why? (I'm back to wishing the Democratic Stuffed shirt had pulled it off.)
The who is about to be Iraq. The whole country. Not Saddam Hussein and his weapons of mass destruction, which apparently are both highly lethal and seem to have some sort of stealth capability. Not the people who perpetuate his power as a dictator, not his personal Goerring's and Himmler's. Not the people that are oppressing the citizens of Iraq, who according to even the White House, are the most intelligent well eduacated population in the Arab world. That's who were gonna end up shooting, and blowing up their homes, and maiming their children. Just average guys and girls, living out their lives under the thumb of a nut-job and just trying to get a loaf of bread on the table.
The why? Best I can tell, its Family Business, 'cause I don't feel any safer.
Feb 21, 2003
On The Ultimate Futility Caused by Toothpaste on Your Sleeve
She's English. Her friend needs to use the phone in the office, and I let her, at first against my better judgement. But She's blonde, and very cute, and I am lonely lately, so any feminine attention at all is like cold pizza at 3 a.m., not really what you want, but good enough to get you through. I really don't want these two stangers in my office. Not until She speaks, that is.
"This place was recommended to us by collegues, so you had better make sure we have a good time." Coy, without the slightest hint of demanding. The wink was built in to her voice. And that accent just floors me.
She and her friend retreat into the club, and within minutes are having so much fun they can't wait to buy a souvinir. We're out of T-shirts, sorry ladies, the waitress says. But a little constructive digging around in the office produces the last one, hidden away in the back of a shelf behind a box of utterly useless junk.
She beams when I bring it out. She's let her golden hair out of the pony tail. She's wearing a sassy little denim jacket with a pink support ribbon (breast cancer?) She touches my arm, looks me directly in the eye to thank me for finding the one thing that can make Her supremely happy at that moment. Her eyes shine with the possibilites of all the ways I might make Her happy in the future. I look down at Her hand, pure white and soft on the dark red sleeve of my shirt, almost in awe that She has deemed to touch me.
And there's a toothpaste stain on the cuff of my sleeve.
Another perfect romance down the drain. Fuck.
She's English. Her friend needs to use the phone in the office, and I let her, at first against my better judgement. But She's blonde, and very cute, and I am lonely lately, so any feminine attention at all is like cold pizza at 3 a.m., not really what you want, but good enough to get you through. I really don't want these two stangers in my office. Not until She speaks, that is.
"This place was recommended to us by collegues, so you had better make sure we have a good time." Coy, without the slightest hint of demanding. The wink was built in to her voice. And that accent just floors me.
She and her friend retreat into the club, and within minutes are having so much fun they can't wait to buy a souvinir. We're out of T-shirts, sorry ladies, the waitress says. But a little constructive digging around in the office produces the last one, hidden away in the back of a shelf behind a box of utterly useless junk.
She beams when I bring it out. She's let her golden hair out of the pony tail. She's wearing a sassy little denim jacket with a pink support ribbon (breast cancer?) She touches my arm, looks me directly in the eye to thank me for finding the one thing that can make Her supremely happy at that moment. Her eyes shine with the possibilites of all the ways I might make Her happy in the future. I look down at Her hand, pure white and soft on the dark red sleeve of my shirt, almost in awe that She has deemed to touch me.
And there's a toothpaste stain on the cuff of my sleeve.
Another perfect romance down the drain. Fuck.
Feb 17, 2003
On My Natural Expression
I go through life with a bit of a scowl on my face, it would seem. I am not an angry person, anymore. I used to be quite the sour-puss, with a healthy case of small man's disease from always beeing the kid on the far end of the front row of the class picture. I got beat up A LOT when I was young because I could not control my temper. As I grew older, I realized that I look pretty serious most of the time, and it made me difficult to approach, so most people didn't bother. I made a serious effort to change that about six years ago. Those who know me now know that I am anything but grumpy most of the time. I'm pretty outgoing. "Just because you ARE a character doesn't neccesarily mean that you HAVE character." In my case, I like to think that's not true. I am, frankly, a fucking blast.
Anyway, I got asked seven or eight times tonight "Dude, you okay?" because I had my usual serious, thoughtful expression on my face. The reason I don't walk around all day grinning like an idiot is because I'm not one. The fact that it was the same guy asking me what was wrong with me over and over again about every ten minutes has only served to accomplish one thing.
Now I'm in a bad mood. So leave me alone.
I go through life with a bit of a scowl on my face, it would seem. I am not an angry person, anymore. I used to be quite the sour-puss, with a healthy case of small man's disease from always beeing the kid on the far end of the front row of the class picture. I got beat up A LOT when I was young because I could not control my temper. As I grew older, I realized that I look pretty serious most of the time, and it made me difficult to approach, so most people didn't bother. I made a serious effort to change that about six years ago. Those who know me now know that I am anything but grumpy most of the time. I'm pretty outgoing. "Just because you ARE a character doesn't neccesarily mean that you HAVE character." In my case, I like to think that's not true. I am, frankly, a fucking blast.
Anyway, I got asked seven or eight times tonight "Dude, you okay?" because I had my usual serious, thoughtful expression on my face. The reason I don't walk around all day grinning like an idiot is because I'm not one. The fact that it was the same guy asking me what was wrong with me over and over again about every ten minutes has only served to accomplish one thing.
Now I'm in a bad mood. So leave me alone.
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