The Archives - About Being Happy and How To Get Around It

Myers Archives Vol. 1
Twentieth Century Styles
About Being Happy And How To Get Around It

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All it takes is one person (read: Colmus) to express interest in my earlier works and I'm ready to plaster it all over town.

First up, we'll delve into Twentieth Century Styles. In 1998, I tired of the band thing and* decided to start playing more solo shows and* recording little demos and* albums on my 4-track, which eventually morphed into a Tascam 488 MKII 8-track tape machine. Thus began 20thCS. The initial concept was to record and release one album per month for the rest of my life. I'll tell you some other time how this idea played out, but let's start and stay in May 1999 for this tale, where everything worked out just as planned. All 8 of the Tascam's tracks worked flawlessly and I was primed for a real lo-fi career.

For the most part, I would write the songs as I recorded them, with the exception of a few songs that I had demoed throughout the earlier months. I'd set-up a metronome track, then lay down an acoustic guitar or a simple bass-type line on the keyboard (I didn't own a bass, so I depended solely on the western most keys to provide the bump), thus creating a really basic verse/chorus/verse type song structure. From there, I'd layer 4 or 5 additional keyboard or acoustic guitar lines overtop. Occasionally, those melodies would conflict with each other, but I didn't care and just figured that I'd "fix it in the mix."

Then, I'd move onto the vocals. Mostly, I was still in the business of writing the girl songs, albeit with lyrics a bit more abstract than what I'm working with these days. This was the part of my life when I was first learning about harmonies and how much they could turn an okay song into a hit. So I went to town recording as many harmonies, ooohs and aaaahs that I could think of. As you'll be able to pick out, some were much more successful than others.

The next step was always the most difficult. The drums. The only portion where it wasn't totally in my hands. Fortunately, Gary B was gracious enough to agree to play the skins for these songs. [As a side, you must understand that during this period, Gary wasn't the easiest person to get to do anything. This was around the time that while at a surprise birthday party for our buddy Eric, he infamously blurted out, "I don't even want to be here," for Eric and most of his family to hear. Not coincidentally, this is also around the time when we all fell madly in love with him.] So, we scheduled an afternoon where I took the tape machine to his family's home. I had given him a tape of the tracks a few days earlier, but all of the songs were still fairly unfamiliar territory to him. He was a gamer though and I sat around as he went through each of the eight tracks and wrote a part for them. The other problem, with which is something that I still suffer, is that I have no clue how to record drums. I set up some crappy mics in all of the obvious [read: wrong] places and again, I figured that I could fix any problems in the mix. In the end, it sounds like a few of those microphones were a little too close to the cymbals, so occasionally, you'll be treated to an excruciating sound or two.

I've now made two references to "fixing it in the mix," neglecting to let you know that I don't know anything about mixing either. After I re-did a vocal or two, I spent an evening mixing the album, whilst printing out the dumb artwork I had thrown together using Corel Draw. The next day, I was dubbing copies and driving around town to give them to my friends. It became a tradition that I'd stop at Mike's house, followed by Mark's...staying long enough to listen to the album with each of them.

It should be said that six months later when I learned how to transfer tapes to my computer, I re-released this and the subsequent albums on compact disc. In addition to the new format, I re-recorded a part or two and remixed everything. They sounded a little better, but still not great. I imagine that one day, I'll find the motivation to buy a working Tascam 488 (spoiler: my tape machine sucks now) and transfer these tracks to Cubase and release my Definitive Edition of these classics. I'll probably do some George Lucas shit to the songs too and piss everyone off.

Without further ado, I present to you About Being Happy and How To Get Around It. These are the CD mixes. And I'll be live blogging as I listen to each song! To download any of the songs individually, Ctrl/Right Click on the song title and click on "Save Target/Link As" or click here to download the entire album in a nice zipped format.


The King's Theme

• For reasons that I can't remember, I started recording these instrumental "themes" for characters that I had not yet created who came from the Mystical Land Of Garbagio, a fictional place that had inspired a crash-and-burn solo tape that I had recorded a year earlier. The idea was to record one or two themes for each tape, all eventually leading up to some really bad concept album and/or, if I remember correctly, a cable access television show. In the end, I think I recorded about 10 themes, but that concept album is last in line behind all of the other concept albums (the haunted house album, the numbers album, space album II, etc.) that I plan to finish eventually. Anyhow, the "King" seemed like a good easy character name with which to start. This is one of two songs that doesn't employ real drums. Oh and listen closely to hear it when the fake horns starting doing a round of "B-I-N-G-O."
  

Out For Good

• This one was always Mark's favorite track. Purposely, I set this up as the opening track as it starts with the line "The story's set in a distant land," which hints at this mystical land, of which I've previously spoken. This is a love song, but it doesn't really dwell on it as per my usual fare. There's some woe-is-me in the chorus, but for the most part, it doesn't get too out of control. The opening verse sets up the idea of the Sun's wife leaving him for some other star. So, the Sun decides he doesn't feel like shining anymore, which sets up a chain reaction that leads to all sorts of awful awful things! So, yeah, there's a lot of space talk in here, in addition to a Thriller reference.
  

A Midnight's Terror

• I was seemingly in love with this song. I later re-recorded a stripped down acoustic version of it for the space album, and released the 4 track demo of it on my fake rarities disc. In retrospect, its okay, but not the bees knees. Speaking of bees, I do love that buzzing saw sound that I made on my keyboard. I sing "not near enough" during the bridge...which I stole directly from R.E.M.'s "Near Wild Heaven" off of Out Of Time. Same lyrics, same melody. On the demo, I do recall that I sang the verse with more of a deep David Bowie voice thing.
  

Officer Web Joins Up

• Unlisted track! This was the one experimental song on the album and I thought I would hate it by now. But as I'm listening to it, its making me smile. There's a good deal of sped up keyboard, backwards tape tricks and some chipmunky voices doing a lot of laughing and mumbling something about the Mystical Land of Garbagio. The centerpiece of the song, of course, is a segment from the "Officer Web" phone message. A few years earlier, when an old band, Emma, did some recording at ACR Studios, our engineer, Craig Bowen, gave us this really funny answering machine message as a bonus track when he made us a disc of our mixes. I forget its exact history, but I guess this lady accidentally left this message on ACR's machine, as opposed to the courthouse or wherever. This lady sounds like she's gone through some tough times, but she's pretty funny nonetheless, even if I have no idea what she's going on about. Something about a dirty cell, her will, a conspiracy involving hearing loss and her dead niece Melody. I hope you enjoy it.

Wasted

• Here's the ballad! The harmonies step on each other a bit, but hold up a lot better than anything else on this album. This is your over-the-top, heart-on-the-sleeve desperation story of a fella that lives his whole life pining for the one that got away, assuming that she's leading a miserable married life. Dude's life is so meaningless, that death doesn't even come to bother him! My favorite line is "You never saw the bulls in Spain or the Italians there in Rome." Or maybe its "The sprinkler sprinks..." The tri-dueling guitar/organ/otherkeyboard solo section is pretty groovy too. This song is also the owner of the most out of place "Look out!" in the history of pop music.
  

The Dumb One

• I think Gary was delirious by the time that we recorded this one, so this drum beat is a lot less straight forward than the rest. It used to not make sense to me, but now it sounds perfect. Sometimes when I say "You're the dumb one," it sounds a lot like "You're the Don Juan." I bet that I thought that I was really clever and/or worldly when I wrote, "Your laissez-faire was laissez-pas."

Robert Sir

• Oh, Robert Sir. I have no clue what sort of person would ever be called "Robert Sir," but I sang about him anyhow. Here's the one where I totally went hog-wild with backing vocals and left/right panning. I remember this song being heavily inspired by the Herman's Hermits "Silhouettes," although I can't really understand how anymore. The age-old tale of stealing your best mate's girl and not even feeling too bad about it. The fact that Dude's name was Robert Sir probably softened the blow. This is one of my favorites of the 20thCS canon. My buddy Todd gave an oral presentation in college that involved playing this recording for the class, and I often times wonder what he was thinking. My choice line: "She makes my insides fall to pieces. That ain't smart, but you're a genius too, for leaving her alone with me." I think there was an alternate live performance lyric, where instead of "That's a dream, not an obstacle," I'd say "I'm a boy, not a popsicle."
  

Everyday Tonight

• I wrote this one specifically to win the Conan O'Brien College Band competition. Of course, its easily the worst song on the album. Its another in a series of Myers songs that deal in such vague generalities and outlandish metaphors that I couldn't even begin to explain what its about. The narrator is aggravated about something. "A fresh mile, a fresh smile, a fresh style" hints at the idea that I probably wanted this to become the 20thCS Anthem. I never submitted it for any competition.

My Arms True

• Another song that I had initially thought was a lot better than it really is. All of the chord changes in the verse probably incapacitated me and put that thought in my head. Again, no clue what this one is about. "Singing love songs to my sheets." I'd like to say that my over-the-top chorus vocals were meant to be ironic, but I'm just not sure anymore. The end is pretty cool when it gets all acoustic punk rock.

Dos and Don'ts (Predominately Don'ts)

• A clever title, I'll tell you that much. I didn't like this one that much, but then Gary B, Matt Dahl and Mike Apichella loved it so much that I began to think better about it. The line that won over Gary and Matt: "Today, my world has felt a terror shock." Mike Ap: "Girl, where's your mother? I'd like to talk to her about your attitude." I love the ton of that keyboard solo and that its insanely long.
  

The tape ended with a reprise of the King's Theme.
I think it was just a little slower.

----------------

As a bonus, here's an essay that Gittings wrote about it shortly thereafter its release. You might note how the setting sun is still a common theme in my songwriting, even eight years later.

Detours on the Road to Happiness:
The Setting Sun and Other Circles in Twentieth Century Styles

A Critical Essay
By Mike Gittings

Twentieth Century Styles’ album About Being Happy and How to Get Around It is an album about heartbreak. Yet it is ingeniously structured to suggest a solution to romantic conflict, a brighter side around the corner, without the contrived sappiness of many other modern pop albums. In fact, the very name Twentieth Century styles suggests a sort of circular, enigmatic structure that is also present in many of this first album’s metaphors and textures as well. With the Styles’ use of terms reminiscent of Arthurian legend, such as the reference to Sir Christopher Myers and the decidedly medieval “King’s Theme,” the group is at the same time modern and medieval. A similar schism appears throughout the album in such songs as “Wasted” and “Hmmm…(aka Dumb One),” where heartwrenching lyrics are set to major-key ear-pleasers, making the album truly simultaneously about both “Being Happy” and “Getting Around It.”

Elsewhere, the album’s scope functions in similarly complex ways. The first words of the album, “The story’s set in a distant land,” suggest an emotional and situational distance that is present literally, yet absent figuratively. The personification of the sun, moon, and stars in this song energizes the Styles’ juxtaposition of human and cosmic worlds, and sets up the problematic connection between the two, given the beauty that the humans see in the turmoil of the stars. It is not until the end of “Out for Good” that the circle is complete and the cosmic problems are thrust upon the earth in the form of darkness.

Similarly, the Styles posit a complex relationship between the realms of dream and reality, one in which each informs the other. In “A Midnight’s Terror,” the Styles make their first reference to the dream world, in which the imperfections of reality are temporarily corrected, but with constant awareness of the ephemerality of dreams. Here, Myers sings, “You evade me before I get there and I can barely feel your warmth.” Similarly, the grim laments of "My Arms True" are broken by a certain hope found in dreams when Myers sings, “In my dreams I float with space girls, and I awake with hopes that a new day opens doors.” In such moments, the Styles suggest that happiness lies at the intersections between dreams and reality and that denying dreams, or avoiding these intersections, leads to the aversion of happiness. Framed by the enigmatic, anachronistic timepiece “The King’s Theme,” Twentieth Century Style’s album "About Being Happy and How to Get Around It," toes the line separating dreams and reality and finds both cosmic and human beauty in dreams, space girls, and the fuzzy lines between past and present.

RFDTV

So, here it is. My 20th entry. I've learned a lot about blogging in the past few weeks. I've learned my strong suits. I've figured out what I need to work on. And I've figured out what I need to stay away from.

I initially conceptualized this space of mine as being more of a private zone where I could come, get away and jot down all of the funny things that have happened to me over the past 24 hours. Something has occurred to me, though. Either nothing funny happens to me anymore or it takes more than a few hours for me to determine if its a worthwhile memory or not. So, after a few hit or miss first posts, I've started filtering my current event stories in lieu of random old memories, top ten lists or just general clevernesses.

I'm not sure if Christmas was funny or not, yet. Both events of this divorced child's holiday featured evolved traditions. It was interesting to celebrate with my father's side at my grandmother's new house. For the previous 26 years, it was somewhere else or something. That's not important though. Time will tell if that ongoing blow job joke that everyone was riffing on will become a true holiday staple or not. As for my mother's side, I would wager that we'll tune in again to watch the Johnnie High Christmas Show next year, but we'll probably pretend to not hear it when my mother's boyfriend suggests that we watch the latest Larry The Cable Guy special. All I can remember is my grandmother sprawled, passed out on the floor after that hour was over. As that sweet ass Christmas dinner approaches, you can only hear so many terrorist, indigestion and "San Francisco" jokes before you're just not hungry anymore.

So, I just glossed over the Johnnie High Country Music Revue there, but I shouldn't have. Did you click on that link? This show was ridiculously amazing. Check out the Bios and fun facts!

The show is anchored by these vets:

John Sharp

• the ultimate "stylist"
• can't remember the last time he was serious about anything

Kristy Stuble

• lots of laundry and cooking
• introduced to husband by Johnnie High, who loves to play matchmaker

Mike Stewart

• aka 'Earl' from Burnt Mattress, Arkansas, just above Hot Springs
• proud grandfather
• official cane carrier

Then there's the young whipper snappers!


Michael Hix

• "dances like Michael Jackson, entertains like Elvis, sings like a superstar!*"
• gives a thumps up to the cameraman a lot

* where superstar=Aaron Neville



Ashley Smith
(pictured with her Pa-Paw, Johhnie High)

• Performed a lead role in a nationally televised "Made for TV" movie in 2006
• isn't very good
  

I wish Comcast would jump on the RFD-TV bandwagon. I assume that RFD stands for Rural Free Delivery, but I should'nt say that with any degree of certainty. They don't tell you on their website. You're just supposed to know. They don't want any city folk. That said, I wouldn't need TiVo anymore if I had this station. They have a lot of country music programming...stuff from the archives and brand new shows. The brilliant part is that their current production quality is so neolithic, that you're never sure if its a live feed or something that Philo Farnsworth had thrown together. Another third of their airtime is dedicated to farming shows, although I haven't seen any of those yet. And the final third is all about the CHAT show. They're bringing Imus back!

Then, there's Crook and Chase, whom are described as "two of television's most beloved and recognizable personalities." They're bringing them back too! In one of the commercials, Crook accuses Chase of having a "weird sense of humor." [I should state that I'm just assuming which one is Crook and which one is Chase, based solely on how they position themselves on the screen.] Well, if Crook thinks Chase is weird...wait until she meets this guy!



After that clip, you'll agree when the press release explains that C&C "gives [their audience] the pizzazz of showbiz, but also a personal connection to the stars they love." Writer's strike be damned. Color me interested!

Music Wrap Up For This 2007

When I made my Best of 2006 list, I committed what I now realize to be a huge mistake. You see, there was a considerable amount of good albums released overseas in late 2006, that weren't properly released in the U.S. until 2007. So, I made the across-the-board decision that in the case of these albums, I would use the earlier date. So, that means that the Jarvis Cocker solo album is stuck in 2006. That masterpiece of a last Sloan album...2006. The addictive I'm From Barcelona album that I didn't even hear until 2007, thus I didn't even rank...yep, even though you became my personal soundtrack for 2007, you're 2006 too. Those three albums would be the top three, easily, for this year.

You see, I got cocky about 2007. There was so much much hope. Wilco, Fountains of Wayne, the BMX Bandits, Dinosaur Jr, Gary B, The Ladybug Transistor, Of Montreal, The New Pornographers. Radiohead, Rufus Wainwright, The Shins, The Rosebuds. At some point or another in history, each of these bands either held the distinction of being my favorite band, maker of an album that I listened to nothing but for weeks straight and/or in the case of the New Pornographers, a group that I thought was singlehandedly reshape the face of pop music forever. And now in one calendar year, they all had new albums. What could go wrong?

Granted, I had outgrown Dinosaur, Rufus and Radiohead years ago, so I expected the worst out of them. Thus, I was pleasantly surprised when I found some pretty enjoyable moments on each of their new albums. That said, I'm done with those albums, probably never to return.

Wilco and Fountains of Wayne...they still sting. I could pinpoint an exact date when I thought with full certainty that Tweedy and Collingsworth/Schlesinger weren't capable of writing a bad song.

Every Uncle Tupelo album was split into two EPs. The vomit inducing Jay Farrar side and the magic Tweedy side. The first three Wilco albums? Utterly perfect. The first two Golden Smog records? The Billy Bragg and Wilco two-fer? Wow and wow. Then came the first chink in the armor...Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. I've come to like this album a lot, but when I first heard it, it was the first mis-step. I thought they were being too groundbreaking for their own good. It made me go back and re-evaluate the earlier works. Being There? Maybe 3/4 as good as I had initially thought. Then came A Ghost Is Born and off came the wheels. This new one, whatever its called, well it was a step back in the right direction, but I couldn't tell you anything about it. I couldn't sing you one line from it. There's a song about some sort of light and I think that one was the best.

Fountains of Wayne. After two albums and another disc's worth of crazy good b-sides , these guys were unstoppable. Goofy, but earnest. Then came Welcome Interstate Managers, which was a perfect precursor to this year's junky Traffic and Weather. Whereas Tweedy's curse has been trying to be too innovative...FOW has fucked up by trying to be too cutesy and clever lyrically. The earnestness isn't there anymore. Its just stupid now.

FOW's Adam Schlesinger did do something wonderful this year and that wonderful's name is the soundtrack to Music & Lyrics, which was already deemed my biggest guilty pleasure of 2007. Look, I know that you're going to hate "Way Back Into Love" but listen to it anyhow.



If you have even a tiny heart, you'll remember it tomorrow and the next day, too. And soon enough, it will be the song that you dance to at your wedding. Beyond that, I'm not sure which songs he wrote and which one's some other dude wrote...but I've gone off the deep end and I love almost everything on this soundtrack, except some sort of ancient Egyptian sounding song.


Combine my thoughts about FOW and Wilco, and you'll have my feelings towards Of Montreal.

I'm so unenthusiastic about this year's music, and I'm beginning to think that today's blog has been a horrible decision.

Without further ado, here's my Top Ten of 2007:

1. The Primary 5 - Go! - When Teenage Fanclub released Grand Prix, Songs From Northern Britain and Howdy, the songwriting responsibilities were evenly split amonst Norman Blake, Gerry Love and Raymond McGinley. I can't argue with the results. All three of them were at the tops of their game. Little did we know, they had Paul Quinn just sitting behind the drums. Well, Paul eventually left and "Go!" is his second set of ten catchy as all hell pop songs. I shudder to think what a Teenage Fanclub album would sound like now if Ray, Norm and Gerry were all bumped down to three songs a piece to make room for some Paul songs. As a side, Paul once asked if I wanted to write a song with him and I didn't act quickly enough. I kick myself over that daily. The Primary 5 have subsequently broken up, so this is their swan song. Something tells me that they'll reform in 2008.
   
2. Apples In Stereo - Can You Feel It? - The Apples were always one of those bands that I couldn't say one bad thing about, yet still could never find it in me to want to listen to any of their music. Then came this album. Their opus.
   
3. Steve Hefter & Friends of Friends - Twist and Hold Til Morning - It makes me sad that two of my friends' bands made the Perfect Baltimore Record before I had the chance. Because of that, I had to leave Roddy off of the list. It's still just too painful. This one makes me forget about Wilco.
   
4. The Shins - Wincing The Night Away - If you told me in January that this album would have made my Top Ten list, I would have told you that you were crazy. Lo and behold, its grown on me. It starts slow and boring, but luckily that song only lasts like 20 seconds. The competition didn't hurt either.
   
5. Nick Lowe - At My Age - Okay, I'm not positive that all of these songs aren't all the same song, but I like it a lot anyhow. Dude's got a voice.
   
6. Band Of Horses - Cease To Begin - Ditto on this one,although less emphasis on the "voice" part. I've only just gotten this one, so I haven't learned it too well. That said, it seems like a real winner, and the future will probably show this one rocketing up my charts. The first song is called "Is There A Ghost," and its the type of song that I'd love to write. Its like three lines that he sings over and over, yet the music behind it keeps the song interesting. I don't think that I could get away with it as easily.
   
7. The BMX Bandits - Bee Stings - The last BMX album, My Chain, took me a year to fully appreciate, so I'm giving this one that same benefit of the doubt. There's plenty of enjoyable moments, but overall, I find myself snoozing a bit. They've added a female singer to the mix, who works out pretty well, but she steals a lot of the singing time away from Duglas T. Stewart, whose voice is a bit of a "grower," but once you get down with it, you can't get enough. Come back, Duglas!
   
8. The Thrills - Teenager - Eh, nondescript, but its fine. Really, its okay.
   
9. Euros Childs - Miracle Inn/Bore Da - This is two albums, and I really shouldn't group them together. One of them has a lot of Welsh talk on there and one has a lot of horse talk. This fella used to sing in a group called Gorky's Zygotic Mynci and I was nervous that they stopped making music altogether...but guess what...here's this guy doing his guy stuff on some sort of solo albums.
   
10. Original Soundtrack - Music & Lyrics - 'Nuff said. I know that you said you wouldn't trust me anymore after I made you go see the Bacon Brothers, but give me one more chance!
    

Random stats: 47 new release music albums acquired this year. 2 comedy albums.

And there you have it.

Real-Time Songwriting

There's nothing that irks the musician side of me more than an unfinished song. Unfortunately, I have plenty of these, and even more unfortunately, I don't imagine that I'll ever have a clean slate.

I used to record every last snippet of every little idea that I had ever come up with and that was possibly my worst idea ever. Granted, you don't want to accidentally not write the next Hey Jude, but as some wise soul once put it, if its truly a great song, how could you ever forget it? So ever since I stopped recording said snippets, I've been much more sane, but I still have a few dozen wordless melodies floating around in my head.

On Sunday, an epiphany hit me and I was able to finish writing a song that I've been working on for about six months now. I had been sitting on some chords and melodies for a verse/chorus thinger with a few random lyrics written. As I had when I was writing songs for the first Water School album, I was determined to write a really optimistic song. Thus, the few lyrics that I had written seemed to revolve around this single dude who's trying to get his things in order since his lady situation has just taken a turn for the better. And I had decided that it wouldn't be too long of a song. Maybe three choruses and two verses. Simple stuff. Except it wasn't...until yesterday, when I was bored and put my mind to it, and wrote those choruses and verses, in addition to a bridge that sounds like I stole it (and probably did) right from the opening track of Break Up With Water School.

The recording style is very reminiscent of what my friend Bryan does with his Tambourine Club recordings. A lot of reverb and delay. And tambourine.

One of the last lyrics I wrote for the song was inspired by how Gittings did his laundry last week and couldn't remember if he used any detergent. Getting into the habit of washing his clothes with just water seemed like something this down-on-his-luck guy would do, so I wrote a line or two about it.

I also doubled the lead vocal just like I used to do in high school.

Also, "bugging us out" seems like something that people say, but Google says differently.

I've always loved songs that utilize "Baby" in the third person. These come to mind:

Baby's Coming Back by Jellyfish,
Baby Gets High by the Blake Babies
Baby's In A Bad Mood by Michael Shelley
Baby's Coming Back To Me by Jarvis Cocker
Baby's In Black by the Beatles

Now, never in the real world would I ever refer to a significant other as Baby to someone other than her, if even her... as in, "Hey Rick, have you seen Baby around?" And I'm also pretty sure that the above artists, or anyone for that matter, would never participate in such a practice either. But that's what songwriting is all about. You get away with stuff that would make you feel like a real tool if you said it in a non-fictional setting. And this is my favorite songwriting liberty of all time.

So, yeah, maybe that all will make sense after you hear the song. Its not the best song, but its not long either...

I present to you the first recorded incarnation of Baby's Coming Home.

The Movies That I Saw In 2007

Hi Blog.

I got this idea from a Feminist Blog that I frequent.

Of the gazillion films released in the United States in 2007, I saw 20 of them. 8 were viewed in a real live movie theatre and the other 12 were watched in the comfort of someone's home. More often than not, that home belonged to me. Today, I'll simply list the latter and harp on the former. In most cases, I've forgotten nearly everything about the film, so I'll be dealing in vague generalities.

Anyhow, here's my top 12 films watched via DVD or Magic Download, sorta maybe in some order with the top 6 being significantly better than the bottom 6:

• Sunshine
  
• Zodiac
• Sicko
• Knocked Up
  
• Music & Lyrics
• Hot Fuzz
  
• Blades of Glory
• 28 Weeks Later
• The Simpsons Movie
• Spiderman 3
  
• Evan Almighty
  
• The Number 23

Evan Almighty, not very good, had my favorite moment. You see, this was one of those magic downloads that I watched at an acquaintance's house who does that sort of thing. Anyhow, it seems that the person who initially ripped this movie took a few liberties in order to try to make the movie a little more exciting. There was some boring scene in a bar, where you could see the Daily Show playing on one of the TVs. Well, all of a sudden, that particular TV goes fuzzy, and then this amazing technical genius replaced the original image with his tag and some silly non-sequitors. I think it might have just said Booyah!, but it was the most clever Booyah! that I had ever seen. I was also fearful that this meant that this movie now included some sort of computer virus, but was too giddy over Booyah! to care. At the end of the movie, I told this acquaintance to send $30 to Universal Pictures. He did and then I stopped being friends with him. I don't remember his name and I don't know how to find him.

I have also been renting an un-viewed The Wendell Baker Story from Netflix for over a month now. I'll watch it once I've computed that I've paid over $1000 for the privilege.

Okay, if you're still with me, we'll now move onto the multiplex views. I'll attempt to put them in order of best to worst:

• 300 - This was the worst movie that I've ever seen in my life. From the first time that I saw the trailer, I knew that there was never going to be a dumber movie available for my eyes. You see, my [then] 16 year old out-of-towner cousin came to visit earlier in the year. During his previous visit, he, our uncle and I went to see Nacho Libre, which itself is hardly in a position to be called even a guilty pleasure, but has now, nevertheless, been given a full pardon. When Cousin hit Baltimore again this time around, I knew that the three of us would be seeing another movie together. In my mind, the only thought that I had was "Please don't suggest 300. Please don't suggest 300." Obviously, he's a mindreader and since I couldn't walk out of the theatre, I purposely fell asleep for 20 minutes of the film, only to be awoken by some topless guy screaming something about Xerxes. I didn't find the green screened backdrops awe-inspiring. I thought the dialogue was god awful. And I had zero interest in that portion of dumb history, which seemed to be an opinion that I shared with the filmmakers. Booyah!
  
• Reno 911: Miami - My apologies to the Reno 911 crew for being second only to 300. My mother, the aforementioned uncle and I saw this one on opening day. One of the few Mitch Hedberg jokes that I never fully supported was one about sitcom characters, and how once any 30 minutes episode is over, you never find yourself saying, "I wish I could see that character for another 30 minutes." Well, this movie (and the Simpsons movie, for that matter) finally made me understand what he was talking about. It had a great deal of funny bits, but overall, it was probably 60 minutes too long. Plus the extended masturbation scene was maybe a bit uncomfortable.
  
• The Bourne Ultimatum - I went to see this one with my father and a different uncle. Two guys world reknown for forgetting every detail of every movie that they've ever seen. My dad was really excited to see this one, even though he had never seen the first two. So, even though I had only seen the first of the series, I felt like I was ahead of the curve. My uncle had seen them all! And while we waited patiently in our stadium seats, I asked him to give us a rundown on what happened in the last movie, to which he replied, "I have no idea." For a movie series about brainwashing, I couldn't think of a better target audience. Well, obviously, this has all rubbed off on me, because I have no clue what happened in this movie. There was a lot of running around and neck breaking and car bombs and switcheroos. As we left, my uncle found it in him to say, "It wasn't as good as the last one."
  
• Once - Whew, I finally got away from the family! I saw this with a friend of mine, upon her suggestion. I was out of the loop and it was only my glimpse of a plot outline an hour prior that gave me any clue of what to expect. I can't say that I loved it, but it certainly was worth my time. There was a lot of singing in it. They sang one song a whole lot of times. And at first, I didn't care for the song, but by the time that this street urchin type guy and his broken-vacuum girlfriend scrounged together a band and recorded the song during an all-nighter at the studio, I was really feeling it! Call me stupid, but I love those montages in musiccy movies where the band only has enough money for 8 hours of studio time, but they find a way to pull things together and make a kick ass record!
  
• American Gangster - Family! I didn't mean to see that last movie without you! I saw this one with the father. Denzel. Russell Crowe. Right in my dad's wheelhouse. An ex-girlfriend once described my father as a Russell Crowe type. And I have to agree. Just minus all the phone throwing and fist fights. One day, I imagine that I'll be a Russell Crowe type, myself. Yeah, I liked this one alright. What was it about? Some gangsters or something.
  
• Pan's Labyrinth - Since the aforementioned feminist blog already stole my bit about how its really tough to spell Labyrinth, its tough for me to find much else to say about this one, beyond that I feel bad for not seeing enough subtitles this year. Discounting Reno 911, this was obviously the most beautifully filmed movie that I saw this year. It was so beautiful that I've forgotten completely who I saw this with.
  
• The Darjeeling Limited - It didn't take much for Wes Anderson to fall out of my good graces, and The Life Aquatic did it for me. Not that it was an awful movie. And maybe when I get around to seeing it for a second time, I'll enjoy it immensely. And its not even that I entered that film thinking that Wes Anderson was impervious to imperfections. Against most of my friends' better opinion, I think that Bottle Rocket is pretty much a crappy movie. So, I went into this one with an Everything Goes Bagel attitude. Actually, knowing that Bill Murray had nothing more than a cameo and Mark Mothersbaugh did not do the music, I would call that EverythingGoesBagel-2. Five of us, including another cousin, drove to Bethesda to see this one. The showing that we were shooting for was sold out, so we decided to see the Arbutus sights, read some magazines and eat some potbelly sandwiches. There's so much more involved with this story, so I'll have to make a note to put it all in another blog sometime. Man, these build-ups are becoming increasingly larger than the reviews. Movie good.
  
• Superbad - Of course, the movie that I saw twice this year would be crowned my No. 1. Three of us went to see this the first time? I think? Definitely at least one cousin was involved. Whereas the above filmmaker has disappointed me in the past, the Judd Apatow crowd has yet to offer me a clunker. I mean, maybe I'll never watch Knocked Up or The 40 Year Old Virgin again, but I enjoyed them while I was there. My friend Ddot said that he cried at the end of this movie because it reminded him so much of our high school days. I don't remember us knowing that many girls, but otherwise, I probably agree with him. What made the movie even funnier was when I took my father to see it. I knew he would love it and in advance, I had picked out all of the scenes that I knew he would get all ROFLy over. Low and behold, I was dead-on and I heard him laugh maniacally and he slapped me on the shoulder at all the right moments. Typically, you don't picture Russell Crowe laughing and shoulder-slapping maniacally, but I respectfully ask you to reconsider.

This blog took me three point five hours to type. I'm really sorry.

False Perceptions of Adulthood #1, #2 and #3

Over the last few weeks, in random unrelated conversations, I've stumbled upon various forgotten items. Items was a weird word choice, but I'm not in the business of fixing it just yet. Maybe in a future edit.

What I'm trying to say is that when I was a kid, I had these notions of what I'd be seeing a lot of once I turned into an adult. These assumptions were based mainly on Hollywood, but a few of them, I had convinced myself that they were happening on my own block or even in my own home, just barely removed from my peripheral vision.

So, I thought I'd tackle some of these as I'm reminded of them. I have three of them for today. I'll probably never do this feature again.

1. Ski masks - I'm pretty sure that my six year old self had one of these bad boys, but again, I might just be confusing myself with Dennis the Menace or some joker like that. That said, my vague recollection is that the ski mask didn't work as well as you'd expect. It seems like a impenetrable force, but I recall that whenever I took it off, it would essentially become a leaky bag of snow. I guess I never really paid attention to the adult fashion of winter when I was a child, but I'm sure that things were running rampant all over the place. I'd be really interested in wearing one of these things again. Just as my swimming trunks are filled with less sand when I return home from the beach these days, I'm sure that the interior of my ski mask would be equally less snowy. I refuse to accept that bank robbers have given these things a bad name. Bank robbers have been around forever and I'm certain that bank robbers and ski masks co-existed for centuries and centuries. Does anyone run a Sunny's Surplus or a gang? I'd settle for some pantyhose, even.
2. Cuckoo Clocks - As a kid, I was convinced that my grandparent's Grandfather clock (did that just blow your mind?) was actually a cuckoo clock and that I was just never around when the little bird popped out and walked around a bit. I wasn't tuned into the concept that the EVENT was to happen at the top of the hour. And every time that large bell in its chest cavity rang, it never occurred to me that the bell was the sole purpose of this clock. I just assumed it was an added perk. Anyhow, I thought my grandparents were even more special because of this clock. Cuckoo clocks seemed like something only a wealthy game hunter could own. I prayed that by the time that I was older, they'd be much more affordable to the common man. And that there'd even be watch-sized versions of them. And look where we really are...round wall-hangers with guitars or trains in place of each number, that resound with a distinct riff or toot at the turn of each hour. Color me disappointed in clock choices.
3. Telescopes that Spy On Neighbors - Look, don't get the wrong idea. I'm not one of these people. But, I'd at least like to have a buddy who did this sort of thing.

Alright! That was fun, right?

Christmas Tune Up

Last December, I had a plan. I was going to embark on the most gigantic Christmas music shopping spree that any man has ever embarked upon. I knew that by the time that I was finished collecting all of the music, Christmas 2006 would be over, but I was planning for the future. I wanted Christmas 2007 to be more Silver Belly than ever. And as far as my January 2007 self was concerned, this plan was deemed a huge success.

It was only this month when I realized that last year, I had only procured a Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra CD, in addition to importing my copy of New Wave X-mas into iTunes. This was disheartening. I had honestly fooled myself into believing that I had already cornered the market on Christmas music.

So, I quickly ran out and bought an Elvis and Dean Martin Christmas CD to try to make my Christmas spirit feel better. Well, it helped a bit. But not a lot.

So, on Friday night, I pushed an internet button that would fetch over 9GB of Christmas music and drop them onto my Macbook. Like, total legal stuff. Well, Monday night, the download was complete and I had like 130 new Christmas albums to decide if I wanted to keep or not. There's plenty of no-brainers in here. Kenny and Dolly. John Denver and the Muppets. Sesame Street. Doris Day. Merle Haggard. Chris Isaak. And a lot of stuff that I had never expected to be bundled. Like the Belle and Sebastian Christmas Peel Session or the R.E.M. Christmas Fanclub album or the compilation of Japanese Christmas songs.

I could get snobby about the bit rate being too low on some of this stuff, but I won't. I'm appreciative that this internet button allowed me such a collection.

Now, here's my conundrum. Will I offend the internet by deleting out all of the junk? No offense to the fans in the audience, but I don't really care to have the 98 Degrees Christmas Album...or Charlotte Church...or Skinkhead Xmas. I've given plenty of benefits of doubt. Alan Jackson? Alright. Barbra? Yeah, you can come along too. Star Wars Holiday Album? Okay, but I'm going to have to put you on "Skip When Shuffling." And don't tell anyone this, but I gave Amy Grant a fifteen minute window of opportunity.

So, I've sorted out the great, the guilty pleasures and the awful. Now, I'm left with 60 or 70 albums that I still need to figure out. There's an oodle of compilations, and I'll have to be careful to avoid having too many duplicate instances of the same song. And then I have to decide how I feel about Mannheim Steamroller and whatever that other band is called that sounds just like them. But what's more intriguing are the 15 or so albums by artists with a lot of odd characters in their names. At first glance, they look Scandinavian and I'm happy.

Hanging out with bloggers

Hello,

[editor's note: sorry for all of the italics and commas in this one]

You all might not know this, but once you're deep in the Blogger Community, there's some certain lingo that you inevitably pick up. I'll delve into the lesserknowns in some other blog (once I learn them), but I'll fill you in on the most important one first. You see, when you're hanging out with your blogger friends at a drinking bar, as a point of entry into a blog-based conversation, one of you must say, "I'm digging the blog." Then that opens up the door to all sorts of stuff.

The humorous coda to this pointless entry is this: Last night at the bar, a longtime blogging friend said "I'm digging the blog" to me. Being that this was the first that I had heard of this phrase, I misheard him as saying, "I'm dating a blond." Which he is, but I knew this, so it seemed like an odd ice-breaker to me. I gave him the old Its like you don't even know me cold shoulder for the rest of the night.

Later in the night, after I had realized the trick that my ears had played on me, I tried my luck with this great one-liner to one-half of my new favorite blogging tandem. And low-and-behold, his response was, "When did you go to the Block??!?"

Okay, now you try!

Reader Mailbag #1

Miscellaneous cab rider writes:
Hey sir. So I was the guy who got out of the cab out in front of your office building. Anyhow, I pulled you aside to ask how many blocks away Light Street was. I suggested that it was 2 blocks away, but you told me it was "at least four blocks away." Well, as it turns out, it was only two blocks AND it was in a different direction than the one which you pointed me in. Why did you do this to me?

Chris writes:
I'm so sorry, Mister!

Christmas Shopping Done!

The first of my frantic thoughts this morning was that I haven't done a lick of Christmas shopping yet. Now, I'm wondering if I shouldn't just cut my losses and tell my mom and dad that I'll catch up with them next time around?

You see, I like the idea of Christmas presents and I especially like the idea of buying less merchandise and more experience. Ever since I began the streamlining process of my life and belongings, I can't, in good conscience, bring myself to buy any clutterish item for anyone that I love. Plus, they're getting clutter from everyone else, anyhow. In the instance of my mother, my brother and I have already given her the gift of a bunch of junk out in the garage that we were too lazy to root/route through when we moved out. Perhaps my gift will be to remove all of that junk from the garage? Probably still lazy though.

The problem is that I'm all out of good ideas. I'd settle for merchandise at this point. For the first time, I asked my mother what she wanted and she said she'd be satisfied with some Starbucks gift cards. Well, its nice that I asked, but I'm not quite at the point in my life where I'll settle for buying someone a gift that they explicitly told me that they wanted. I prefer that they give me the occasional hints and I have to use my beautiful mind to put the tips together.

Okay, if you believe me or not, it's inconsequential to me, but...During the process of typing this entry, I've recalled one possible idea for each of my two (!) parents.

For my dad...well, he's going to be spending a lot of time in Norfolk over the next year for work stuffs. So much time that he's even rented an apartment there. So, my idea isn't too specific yet, but there's gotta be a lead here somewhere. Something perfect for a one year apartment rental? Some sort of gift certificate to some sort of premiere Norfolk dining establishment? Any Norfolkers in the audience?

For my mom, she's in love with the Ace of Cakes. Even if I would have looked into this three months ago, I know it would have been foolish for me to expect them to be available to bake my mother a Muppets themed cake for Christmas. That said, its a great idea for her birthday in June, right? Well, no, because they're already booked for the week leading up to her birthday. Shoot.

As for you, my lovely friends? Well, I'm taking you to Chile's again and will be flipping the cost for however many funny colored drinks that your little heart could desire.

Random Memory TV Blog Juniors

Hi.

There was this guy, nice guy, who was a good friend of mine in elementary school and middle school. We also went to the same high school, although we went our own separate paths once there. It was fine though. We were still cordial and said Hi in the hallway. Let's call him Skynyrd, because I think I have a lot more stories to tell about this guy.

Anyhow...one day, we were waiting in line for the bookshop or something and in an effort to make small talk, he took that one fading memory that I was a big Tom Petty fan and said the following...

"I heard on the radio that if Tom Petty didn't break his arm back in the 70's, he would be the greatest guitar player of all time."

I didn't know what to do besides agree and that was it.

I say Hello

There's this woman that runs another division of my company whom I pass on the street on my to/from work at least once a week. I've had email communications with her periodically, but have never had any face-to-face dealings with her. That said, I know what she looks like. And my assumption would be that even if she couldn't match my face to my name, by the point, she has to at least realize that I work for the same company.

Nevertheless, I walk past her as I go about my day and I look in her general direction, typically giving her about 5 seconds to make eye contact with me, so that I can initiate a Good Morning, Good Evening or just a head nod. Look, I'm as big of a fan of New York City Street Etiquette as the next person, but there comes a point where you're so desperate for some sort of acknowledgment, that it starts tearing apart your very being. C'mon. Just a head nod!

Well, as history could have predicted, I came upon the same predicament this morning. I spotted her outside of her building when I was about 25 yards out. For the next 20, I split time between eyeballing her and eyeballing the ground with the final 5 being directed in her general direction. I must tell you...things were looking optimistic. I could tell she could see me peripherally. But just as I reached ground zero, her head shifted away from mine... but only after I had already started the Guu of my Good Morning. I managed to salvage my respectability and turned the whole thing into a bit of a nonsensical mumble.

So, another unsuccessful attempt.

Or was it???!!???

After I had already cleared her, I heard a Good Morning come from 2 yards behind me, spoken in the exact same tone that a high school principal would say to his most anti-social student. It was as if these six months were all my fault. As if it had been me snubbing her all along. So, I gave a toothy grin and repeated it back to her, because that's all I can ever do. I wish I could have gone LD on her, but alas, I'll never be LD.

The narrator then tucks you into bed and kisses you on the forehead.

Sweet dreams.

Egg Bagels

"The only good thing about the weekend, baby, is that Monday's just two days away. C'mon boy!"

Name that lyric. So after secretly deciding that blogging on the weekend would be kinda the lame way to go, I just quietly counted the seconds until I could type some more words into my little space here.

This weekend, we finally got the big Egg Babies/Eric and Bovie artshow off of the ground. For once, Eric and Bovie are their actual names. I didn't really see a point in giving them pseudonyms. But now that I've brought it up, let's call them Arty and Painty. This was Arty's first show ever or at least since he was required to include things at school-sponsored things at MICA. Well, it shouldn't have taken him this long. The other friends and I have always encouraged him to do more with his talents. So after years of pulling his hair to work up some album covers and show flyers...Painty was finally the one that convinced him to do a joint show. And it worked like gangbusters. They shared materials, so that from a distance, you couldn't necessarily tell that they were two different artists. Of course, as you approached, you could see the obvious Paintyisms versus the obvious Artyisms. My one complaint is that Arty had promised me a life-size painting of a man on stilts rescuing a cat from a tree. Didn't happen.

As for the Egg Babies, we lucked ourselves into another insanely well attended show thanks to the draw of the art, the Good Guise and J-Roddy Walston & The Business. And, also, as luck would have it, the crowd was quite attentive and gave us all sorts of cheers at all of the appropriate times. To complete the trilogy of luck, a kind soul had recorded the set, so I just got through listening to it.

Now, after the last show, we received a copy of the set and it was quite a humbling listen. Not that we were terrible...just that there's a certain amount of Eggdrenaline (sorry) that runs through us on stage and we think we're infallible. So, after that one, I had expected the worst, but low and behold, we actually played pretty well. Of course, I've pinpointed a problem area in each song, but overall, it was a real party set. Our new female singer was really freaking great and she added a nice counterpoint to that typical Chris Sound that everyone's come to expect. And after the way "Holiday Road" was sounding at practice all week, its a real wonder that we somehow convinced 200 people to sing along to the chorus with us.

So, its nice to have that eggshausting (sorry again) week of practicing over again. I have a throat issue that I'm hoping to resolve before the band takes a lucky contest winner out on a romantic date next week.

Okay, that's all I've got.

Funny bagel names

Good morning!

So, I've never disliked coffee, but its only been recently that I've taken to having a cup every morning. I'd like to say that it does something for me, but I'm pretty sure that it plays no role larger than being simply a soothing beverage. Caffeine is lost in me. My teenage years were spent atop Mt. Dew, so I built up a tolerance for it.

Anyhow, when I was at Donna's this morning, the South African man in front of me ordered an Everything Goes bagel. Now that's the sort of bagel with whom I want to hang out!

That's the story!

ISO Gooseberry Soda, Volume 2

With the help of darnedbestestblog girl, I had half a mind to think that I'd be hearing that song about a sweet sweet sip of soda by closing tonight. I was lead to this web archive site that has taken a snapshot of many a site over the past ten years. I was cautiously optimistic when I searched for mp3.com and found a 1999 version that looked just like the one that I had stored in my memory. Unfortunately, from there, any attempted navigation was pointless. I couldn't search for GooseD, and I couldn't go directly to what I determined to be my old domain name at mp3.com. Using my address as a base, I also tried what I believed to be Well's address. Also to no avail. (editor's note: There is another band on mp3.com called Well...so don't go thinking that you found the ark of the covenant or that I don't try the obvious things).

Are you asking yourself how I remembered my site address? Well, first, its a simple address. But secondly, for lunch, I went home and something that I did have saved on my hard drive was an old website for Twentieth Century Styles, which included a link to the mp3.com page.

And what was even better was that on my "Links" page on the 20thCS, I had included a link to the Well web page on Angelfire!!! Great news, right???!?

Well, no. Of course, the website isn't there anymore. And the further slap in the face...that useless archive site didn't bother to note that particular page as being important enough to remember.

Stack of CD-Rs in Davey's basement...you're my only hope.

The best song that I'll never hear again

At the turn of the century, I used to post a lot of my little songs on a site called mp3.com . I'm pretty sure that the current mp3.com is the same as the old mp3.com, except my log-in doesn't work anymore. I guess that's what seven years of inactivity will get you.

mp3.com (should I have capitalized that m?) was to 1999 what Myspace Music is to Nowadays, albeit not so IN YOUR FACE. Struggling bands would set up their page, add some mp3s and bio information, then hope that someone would stumble upon their page. There were no bulletins. No friend requests. You'd tell the system what your sound was reminiscent of, and then users would search on their favorite artists to find new bands. Perhaps I was just more open to the idea back then, but I feel like I like I heard a lot better stuff than I do currently on Myspace, etc. There was still plenty of crap, that's for sure, but there were quite a few gems.

For those of you who knew my 1999 self, or my 2007 self for that matter, it wouldn't take Nostradamus to figure out what my search criteria would have been when looking for new music. And the results were always much less daunting then they are on myspace. As opposed to being directed to Page 1 of 30, I'd be greeted with 25 or 30 artists max...an amount that I could realistically navigate entirely through and really decide if any of them were worth a damn.

As luck would have it, within the first few results was always an act called Well, from somewhere in Europe. My memory eludes me on that much. It was just one guy and he only had one song, but it was the most incredible song I've ever heard. Drum machine...the guitars sounded like they were plugged right into the 1/8" microphone jack on this computer...and the vocals were plentifully recorded. The song was called "GooseD" and the chorus went like this...

Gooseberry soda, I drink it without a straw
There's a black snake in the quarry, a dangerous undertow

And although it was absolute pop, every time he sang about that black snake, I'd quiver in fear. Then came an overdriven Spontaneous Gyrations era Gittingsesque extended guitar solo. Pure magic.

Now for the horrific part of the story. I don't have this song anymore and I don't anticipate it eventually showing up on a Time/Life boxset. Whereas I've spent the last years streamlining my personal belongings, I've always been very thorough about saving and backing up all of my computer files. Everything except for this mp3.

I mean, its not as dire as it sounds. I'm certain that I must have a copy of it somewhere. Whether its on a CD-R spindled up in DGW's basement. Or on the computer that I sold Orangey a few years back. But I can't help but be frightened of that small percentage chance that I'll never hear it again. There's not much hope that I'm going to recall Well's Angelfire web address...and even if I did, what's the likelihood that Angelfire has preserved the page?

I'm already planning for the worst case scenario of having a hypnotist pull every recollection of this song from my brain, so that I can record and recreate it on my own. For God's sake, I can't remember how the verse went and its wrecking me.

Please advise.

Today's Random Memory

In the spring of 2000, I didn't have a job, I didn't have a girlfriend and I'm pretty sure that I didn't go to school either.

So, why not take a car ride to NYC with the mother, grandmother, brother and sister-in-law to see True West, a two man show starring Philip Seymour Hoffman and John C. Reilly as dysfunctional brothers. The age-old battle of the fuck-up verses the straight-lacer. The clever part about that the production was that PSH and JCR had both parts prepared, so that any given audience hadn't a clue who would be playing whom when they entered the theatre.

On paper, I would have cast Hoffman as the straight man, and Reilly as the wild and crazy guy. Well, we got the opposite. We also had front row seats and PSH sweated and spat on us for 75 minutes! It was great! Then in 2002, when Hoffman played "wild and crazy" in Punch-drunk Love...I said, "I've seen him do that before!"

Okay. The End.

The Bradys and Partridges

Let's talk about the Patridge Family for a while.

First and foremost, I'll acknowledge that I also appreciate the Patridges' brothers-and sisters-in-arms The Brady Bunch. The Bradys (Bradies?) have some great tunes. Its a Sunshine Day ...Merry Go Round...Time To Change...Candy (Sugar Shoppe) ("sippin' milkshakes in the hot sun!").



Like I said, great songs! But c'mon, they're just a bunch of kids! Okay, I'm not making my point here. The Brady Bunch...there's nothing bad that I can say about them. Maybe they're too cutesy? That's one thing.

Now...the Patridges. Man, that David Cassidy is a Godsend. I spent my middle school years infatuated with the guy. I forget what it was called, but I remember going with my mother and grandmother to see him and Petula Clark in some musical that involved a recurring theme about how Pet-Clark was superstitious about making sure that shoes were never placed on top of a table. Bad luck. And low and behold, either D-Cass or his brother put his shoes on the table and got hit by a truck or something.

So, I Think I Love You and C'Mon Get Happy...yeah, that stuff's good, but don't pigeon-hole the Fam as being too bubblegum for their own good. Give I'll Meet You Halfway a chance...oh and listen to Cassidy's spoken word verse starting at 1:41 in Doesn't Somebody Want To Be Wanted? So much more genuine and convincing, then, say, Elvis' sapfest in Are You Lonesome?.

I could never pull that off.

Just give the family a chance.

Egg Babies Practice Review 12/3

Hey everyone,

Last night was the second of six Egg Babies practices scheduled for this week. Just the same as Sunday, the six dudes showed up, while the four ladies readied their makeup and outfits for their appearances later in the week...

Imagine that last bit as being a lot more jokey than it may initially read.

For once, the five of us whom don't live at the Record Label building all arrived nearly simultaneously. Honcho Folds was busy with some sort of meeting when we arrived, so the five of us made the ill-advised decision to start the practice with a 45 minute snack break.

Now, don't get me wrong. There's nothing wrong with snacks. In fact, they're the single reason most of us manage to trudge through the 4 practices. Personally, when I'm singing Tiny Dancer, there are visions of raspberry cookies floating around in my brain. So, what happened last night is this...we ate snacks first and then had nothing to look forward to, so practice suffered because of it. The snacks always seem like a reward, albeit not free, from Honcho, as an acknowledgment that we've done a good job.

Couple this misstep with the fact that Honcho didn't take his pants off at practice, as he did Sunday, and it was one brutally long practice for the Egg Babies.

Now, I can't go into specifics about songs, because the set is always top secret...but let me say this, its possible that we've made a horrendous mistake when we picked out these songs. There's something missing. Maybe its missing Jeff Conlin. Maybe its the lack of a bonafide No. 1 single. Maybe its because I have to do more high singing then I typically have to. Now now, I'm just being pessimistic. We're going to do okay.

Jazzconference Guy and I have an ongoing inside joke going between us. We typically use a hush voice of speaking whenever we reference it, so Orangey can't hear it. He's certain that its about him. Now, couple this with his disappointing second place finish in the Baltimore Sun Dog Photo Contest...triple it with the Coke Zero in the vending machine being sold out...quadruple it with the dance that we've forced him to do during MAJDBTS...and I think we're due to see a major meltdown later this week.

Areas of Expertise

What am I going to do with this space? I don't have a crazy amount of knowledge or insight into any specific area of life. So, I expect this blog to be a cornucopia of somewhat sensible musings on things that I enjoy.

Maybe I'll offer my thoughts on the MLB Winter Meetings. Maybe I'll post a few half-assed record reviews. Maybe I'll tell you about my walk to work. Maybe I'll tell you what happened on Journeyman last night.

With the exception of this particular post, all entries are guaranteed to start uber-strong, only to fade into nothingness with nary a conclusion.

My First Blogging Mistake

Hello Blogging World,

Whenever I sign up for a new service, I spend an inordinate amount of time perusing the "Settings" tab. I'm a real sucker for customization. Oddly though, my blog currently looks like every other blog you've ever seen. I feel like I made some good "Settings" decisions, but where are the fruits of my labor? Was it all for nill?

I discovered almost immediately that my first terrible mistake at Blogger.com was when I checked a little box next to something that said "Show transliteration button for your posts?" I'll be the first to admit that I have very little understanding as to what transliteration means, but it seemed like a feature that would make my blog seem more worldly, so I absolutely had to have it. Well, it turns out that this transliteration business is just fancy talk for turn your blog into gibberish. Instantly. I've since turned it off.

These guys know what I'm talking about. Am I right, people??!?

No, but really, I mean no offense to the Hindi language.