a member of the MTV Generation

so i wake up super early this morning to run (cause 5:00am is the only decent time to run outside in July in Texas) - well i get about 3 miles into the run when i strike right into a puddle of water.

YaY soggy shoe - so i walk home barefoot cause i can't run with a wet shoe.

i have all the time to spare - now that i am awake - so start watching VH1 videos. it was both a thrilling and nostalgic experience. the music felt bigger to me than it had a long time. it felt like it had a chance of actually being affecting and not just being the music i run to or paint to. it was a moment of clarity at a very early hour in the morning, all made possible by the artistry and dentistry of videos.

i remember growing up we had one of the brown box remote channel changers that you zip up and down like a keyboard to change the channel. (i have searched in vain to find a picture of this to jog all our memories, but i can find anything. if you know what i'm talking about and can find a picture to send me, i would be extremely grateful).

but as we all know, it is very difficult to view videos anymore unless we are up at hours we do not intend to be. sure, we've all seen The Beastie Boys "Sabotage", and The White Stripes lego-riffic fantasy "Fell in Love With a Girl", and personally, i still feel artistically indebted to A-Ha's "Take On Me".

but surely there's more to inspire us that the four or five stations out there are withholding from us, choosing instead to expose us to yet another Sweet Sixteen, mind-baffling bitchfest.

to misquote Faulkner - "Once a video reveler, always a video reveler, what I speak!" and let it begin with the following, a song and video called "Run Run" by Those Dancing Days. it fucking rocks in it's mere simplicity.

the best news i have heard in a long time

Bennigan's, Steak-and-Ale Chains Seek Bankruptcy

now if only we can get Applebees and all those Brinker restaurants closed the world will be a better place.

fumbling phrases from my lips

- constant consistency

- building a forever always

- to think that
someone built these roads between us.
cutting mountains
crossing rivers
connecting things
that aren't supposed
to be connected

looking forward to the future: a pre-birthday post

all the changes of life, like indigo to blue, like bread to toast, like dusk to black. once it is st into motion - it can not be stopped. i deplore it. i read thoreau at an early age and have that sucking the marrow out of life phrase firing bullets through my heart with each passing second. i am bonnie in the concluding minutes of bonnie and clyde, the sting of such a short life pouring from her wounds, after all that running. "you best keep runnin', clyde barrow."

that is how i feel. i continue running. as soon as time rests for a moment uncharged, it bolts ahead of me and so i have to hasten after it. unexpected, unconsumed seconds turn to quicksilver suddenly i'm that much older - and that much more in need of some cosmetic decoction.

the sad reality is you cant halt getting older. nor will i escaped the j.m. barrie curse. i want none of it. i can't have the rat's nest that lives over the head of an adult. it is an angry thing, all that blathering, impositioning, threshing, squawking - all that opukence of adulthood. bills, mortgages, broken lawn mowers.

recently my 7 year-old nephew - Tyler - tells me it's easy to fall asleep in the car. this was after i told him i could never fall asleep in the car. Tyler says to me, "it's easy. you just close your eyes." which is a magnificent way of living. "you just do it, he tells me, and then it's done.

if i could just do it (adducing of nike unintended), what would i do? would i open my boutique? would i sell everything and travel the world? would i restore houses? would i design stationary? would i participate in triathlons? would i win scrabble tournaments? would i finally finish my novel? would i paint murals?

with time moving more quickly all the time (fuck what science says), what is stopping me? that's the trick. not getting in front of time, but getting in front of myself, or maybe it's deeper inside myself. i have to stop chasing after that trick. but once i stop running, i'll be dead. i'm pretty sure that's how it works. cut to miss bonnie parker (played by faye dunaway, whose shoe was tied to the brake of the car so that her bullet-riddled body could slump clumsily out of the car without falling completely out of it.) cut to bonnie who stopped running.

in-sanitation

i'm in the middle of a feud. i wish it were with someone louche and questionable, because then at least my feud would be slightly cool. but no, my feud is with my garbage man. and i'm going to win this feud - so help me. i'm close to meeting him at the curb with a glove to slap his stupid face - so i can challenge him to a duel.

about two or three months ago, my garbage man left me a cute little note. no, he wasn't thanking me for all the quality garbage and recycling i produce (a metric ton of beer bottles and ice cream containers and magazines), he was complaining because i "put our cans too close together and they must be at least four feet apart." he left this note on top of the still full garbage cans that he refused to pick up.

of course at the time he left the note - i had just had a party, so there were all sorts of decomposing items in the garbage can that had to sit around for another week, in addition to the new garbage that had accumulated. most of my friends and family were confused why i was pissed off about this, because i'm averse to rotting garbage scenting my home. of course these are people who think their gaseous emissions smell like chanel no. 5, so it makes sense why they don’t get why i was so bothered.

the next garbage pickup, i carefully observed the 4 foot rule, as well as the rule of not exceeding the capacity of the can. i was a regular sanitary poster child. i gave good garbage. and the garbage was picked up, so all was well, until one night i happened to look down at the rest of the garbage cans on our street and i noticed that the neighbor's cans were closer together than 4 feet, like so close they were touching - and yet their garbage was being picked up. well, i'll be fucked sideways. if my neighbor's garbage cans can touch, so can mine.

next garbage day, i put the cans close together. that night -i came home to find one of the cans, open, lying on its side. the other can was sideways at the other end of the driveway. but the rest of the block, all their garbage cans were neatly lined up and touching. and thus - it was on.

the feud had begun.

every week, i've deliberately put the garbage cans together (like the rest of the street), and every week, the cans are fucked up. knocked over. akimbo. today i was fed up, so i put the garbage cans together and then at the ungodly hour of 5:15 am, i watched the garbage man from a hidden corner on the side of the house. the fucker dumped our garbage into the truck and then got out of the truck – and looked around before knocking over one of our empty cans with his foot. (where i live we have specially designed cans that can be picked up and dumped by an robotic arm on the truck. so he had to put the truck in park – unbuckle his seat belt – and then hop out. a lot of work)

at this point, i sprang out of the shadows and said, "why the fuck did you do that?" it was kind of funny to watch him jump. he recovered quickly though, and with an extremely surly tone he said he was fed up with my cans being too close every week. i said, "well, what about the rest of the block? see their cans? yeah, they're all touching, yet you don't abuse their cans. what the fuck?"

here's where the story just gets bizarre, as per usual in my life. the garbage man (who looks like he just came from the local biker bar) picks up one of the recycling can and chucks it into the back of his truck, gets in the truck, and starts to drive away. i stood in awe until my anger took over again and i ran up along side the truck, just in time to be treated to his grinning face and his middle finger.

now i only have the one garbage can. all i'm going to say is, hell hath no fury. do i not pay for this service? i have a feeling that dealing with the sanitation department is going to be like dealing with the dmv - i'm going to get fucked. there's probably some rule i don't know about, like: never fuck with your garbage man. i’ll probably all have to move because i tried to take them on.

this is a complaint from yesterday, but it still stands today: i hate people who say, "happy hump day!" on wednesdays. they are the same people who say, "t.g.i.f!" and "looks like someone's got a bad case of the mondays!" (and they aren't being sarcastic and quoting office space either) and "it's raining so hard, i had to swim into work! quack, quack!" i hate you and i hope you trip over your payless shoes.

the nice guy battles the music snob - snippets of a war inside my head

Caleb called me a late last night and bestowed upon me the unfortunate task of putting together a couple of mix CDs for the bachelor party this weekend.

oh god.

don't get me wrong here - those who know me well know i love making mix CDs - except when i know that the people who will be hearing them have vastly different musicals tastes than i do. my record collection contains almost no rap albums, very little commercial pop and absolutely no trance or top 40 country. the guys that will be attending this party are not interested in rocking out to Wilco, Sufjan Stevens, Death From Above 1979, The Raveonettes or Fugazi. and i sure as hell don't have enough time to change their musical tastes before the end of the night.

the CD that i am currently making will undoubtedly be a huge failure. this isn't because these songs are bad - because they aren't. they just won't be well received. being the somewhat nice guy that i am i am still trying to add some stuff they might possibly be familiar with that i have in my collection.

oh fucking well.

track listing so far:

David Bowie - Queen Bitch
The Bravery - An Honest Mistake
Further Seems Forever - The Bradley
Gorillaz - Feel Good Inc.
Guns N Roses - Mr. Brownstone
The Roots - Rock You
Jimmy Eat World - Sweetness
Modest Mouse - Float On
The Ramones - We're a Happy Family
Stone Temple Pilots - Interstate Love Song
Thin Lizzy - Jailbreak
Tripping Daisy - I Got a Girl
Weezer - The Good Life
The Deftones - Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)
Ben Folds - Rock This Bitch
Foo Fighters - Everlong

oh Jezebel

today i wanted to listen to some Iron & Wine - decided on Woman King i couldn't make it past the second song on the album - Jezebel. i have listened to the song at least 20 times today and every single listening has made me tear up a little. i have never before been so moved by a single song. it isn't the story itself or the lyrics to the song that break my heart. instead, it is the amazingly beautiful simplicity and sincerity of the music and Beam's voice that cuts through me.

the song itself vaguely tells the tale of the bible's Phoenician princess; a pagan bride to Ahab, the prince of Israel. Jezebel is ultimately devoured by wild dogs, thus fulfilling Elijah's prophecy concerning her downfall. the song doesn't exactly describe the story to the listener, but more or less hints at the feelings evoked by the passages from 1 kings 16-21 and 2 kings 9 (yeah, i may not believe in god, but that doesn't mean that i don't read extensively). there is no percussion or bass in the song. just beam's acoustic guitar, gentle banjo pickings, light piano work and faint dulcimer tingings in the background lay the musical foundation for Jezebel. his voice floats lightly between the notes, creating a haunting and heartbreaking melody that is beam's finest work.

i am not capable of putting into words the accolades and praises that this song deserves. i'm not even entirely sure that a simple description alone is capable of conveying to you everything that this song encompasses, both musically and emotionally. all i can tell you is that you need to listen to this song. Jezebel reminds the listener of everything wonderful and compelling about music. in a way, i love the fact that all of his albums are like these secret little treasures that absolutely nobody knows about. you have to search his music out if you want to hear it. and only those of us who do are rewarded for our efforts. you can listen to the track here

"who's seen jezebel?
she was born to be the woman we could blame
make me a beast half as brave
i'd be the same

who's seen jezebel?
she was certainly the spark for all i've done
the window was wide
she could see the dogs come running"

weaknesses

- kisses on the neck
- fleeting glances
- a cute girl in a sundress
- whispers in my ear
- french cinema
- a great piano tune
- love notes
- holding hands
- a finely crafted typeface
- wheat beers (dark and pale)
- touching my face
- well thought out advertising
- forwardness

how i am spending my 4th of July

no fireworks for me. well at least the kind that rise into the sky and explode into multiple colors and shapes.

the fireworks i am experiencing are from good beer, great music and a warm summer evening.