A few more thoughts about Wilco’s A Ghost Is Born
First off, now that I’ve seen the track-listing at Nonesuch I need to say two things. First, Chicagomuzik – usually a good Chicago music news site – was way off the mark while constantly patting themselves on the back for scooping everyone with the news that A Ghost Is Born would be a two-disc set. Apparently not. Secondly, while I assumed the leaked files I’ve heard are rough mixes, I’m beginning to doubt that. I’ll know for sure once they start streaming the disc from Wilco’s own site.
As for the album itself, Jim O’Rourke wields a pretty heavy hand over the proceedings. I like O’Rourke, but I’m starting to feel a little queasy about the bands he’s involved with, Sonic Youth and Wilco, and the fact that their output sounds ever closer to O’Rourke’s own solo material. Also, I think Jeff Tweedy is badly in need of a collaborator, like Jay Bennett, who will provide a counterpoint and perhaps a little creative editing. One of my favorite tracks off the new disc is “Spiders (kidsmoke)” but I think it would have been greatly improved had tweedy shaved, oh say, six minutes off of the song.
The album as a whole is enjoyable and I learned long ago not to expect Wilco to ever really repeat themselves, but the disc does feel a little half-baked and I’m not thoroughly convinced Jeff Tweedy and company were fully engaged in the making of this particular album. Forgive me if I fall on the cliché of, “it’s better than most of what’s out there,” but it falls a bit below the steadily rising bar the band had set for themselves with each of their previous albums.
Soothe me.
When you’re on a train look around you. Notice everyone’s head swaying back and forth and side to side in unison? Isn’t it kind of dreamy? I don’t know why I thought of that this morning, but I did.
I had a whole spiel about this girl that came up to me last night and said, “I hear you have a fabulous girlfriend.” Obviously my immediate reply was, “Yes! Yes I do!” but then as I thought about it I couldn’t figure out where the statement suddenly came from. Rudy figured it out immediately and pointed out that I had just been prematurely cock-blocked by someone – though we don’t know who – that was trying to make time with this girl an saw me as a threat.
So I was going to rant and froth at the mouth in this post and go on and on about what a weird thing that is for someone to do until I realized the whole matter can be solved with one simple public statement. So here it is:
There that was easy.
However if Photogal ever comes to her senses, realizes what she’s dating and runs screaming for the hills the above statement become null and void, m’kay?
Quotes
And since I have to hurry and get to work, I’d like to share with you a my two favorite quotes I’ve encountered over the past few weeks.
“You know the reason he never gets into fights is because he insults people so cleverly that they walk away and don’t know they’ve been insulted until a few minutes later when the turn around and go, “’Hey, wait a minute…’.”- Rudy discussing my big mouth with Photogal
He’s right, although I did insult one of Photogal’s ex-boyfriends in a rather non-subtle manner last Saturday so that’s one time I probably would have deserved a beating…
“I finally went to that webpage of yours and I’ve got to tell you, the whole thing seems pretty self-centered.”- My friend Kristina, telling it like it is
Really? A blog self-centered? Me self-centered? Never!
When you’re on a train look around you. Notice everyone’s head swaying back and forth and side to side in unison? Isn’t it kind of dreamy? I don’t know why I thought of that this morning, but I did.
I had a whole spiel about this girl that came up to me last night and said, “I hear you have a fabulous girlfriend.” Obviously my immediate reply was, “Yes! Yes I do!” but then as I thought about it I couldn’t figure out where the statement suddenly came from. Rudy figured it out immediately and pointed out that I had just been prematurely cock-blocked by someone – though we don’t know who – that was trying to make time with this girl an saw me as a threat.
So I was going to rant and froth at the mouth in this post and go on and on about what a weird thing that is for someone to do until I realized the whole matter can be solved with one simple public statement. So here it is:
l have a fabulous girlfriend that I live with, boys, so there is no need to cock-block me as I am absolutely no threat!
There that was easy.
However if Photogal ever comes to her senses, realizes what she’s dating and runs screaming for the hills the above statement become null and void, m’kay?
Quotes
And since I have to hurry and get to work, I’d like to share with you a my two favorite quotes I’ve encountered over the past few weeks.
“You know the reason he never gets into fights is because he insults people so cleverly that they walk away and don’t know they’ve been insulted until a few minutes later when the turn around and go, “’Hey, wait a minute…’.”- Rudy discussing my big mouth with Photogal
He’s right, although I did insult one of Photogal’s ex-boyfriends in a rather non-subtle manner last Saturday so that’s one time I probably would have deserved a beating…
“I finally went to that webpage of yours and I’ve got to tell you, the whole thing seems pretty self-centered.”- My friend Kristina, telling it like it is
Really? A blog self-centered? Me self-centered? Never!
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
New shtuff.
I write up the new songs released by The Who today right here.
Read. Enjoy. Absorb. Then when you get off work tonight, you know what to do...
TONIGHT
Once again back is the incredible,
the rhyme animals, the incredible D
Rudy
and
DJ Tankboy
are public enemy number one.
Old school rock and/or roll attitude
mixed with only the finest selections
from yesterday, today and tomorrow.
TONIGHT, Tuesday March 30, 2004
Free PBR from 8-9pm
Stunning musical selections from 9pm until 2am
Features of the week:
Wilco - A Ghost Is Born
Boy Robot - Glamorizing Corporate Lifestyle
Destroyer - Your Blues
The Magnetic Fields - I
N.E.R.D. - Fly Or Die
The Secret Machines - Now Here Is Nowhere
Wheat - per second per second, per second
...every second
Time for me to exit, Terminator X-it.
Ten56
1056 N Damen
Chicago, IL
773.227.4906
The Chicago RedEye says: "The teeny tables and scant booths don't leave a whole lot of room for sitting, but the crowd (hipsters from all over the city) is mainly music fans who are more comfortable on their feet anyway. Stop in on Tuesday nights, when the DJ plays the best retro-rock this side of Detroit Rock City...."
I write up the new songs released by The Who today right here.
Read. Enjoy. Absorb. Then when you get off work tonight, you know what to do...
Once again back is the incredible,
the rhyme animals, the incredible D
Rudy
and
DJ Tankboy
are public enemy number one.
Old school rock and/or roll attitude
mixed with only the finest selections
from yesterday, today and tomorrow.
TONIGHT, Tuesday March 30, 2004
Free PBR from 8-9pm
Stunning musical selections from 9pm until 2am
Features of the week:
Wilco - A Ghost Is Born
Boy Robot - Glamorizing Corporate Lifestyle
Destroyer - Your Blues
The Magnetic Fields - I
N.E.R.D. - Fly Or Die
The Secret Machines - Now Here Is Nowhere
Wheat - per second per second, per second
...every second
Time for me to exit, Terminator X-it.
Ten56
1056 N Damen
Chicago, IL
773.227.4906
The Chicago RedEye says: "The teeny tables and scant booths don't leave a whole lot of room for sitting, but the crowd (hipsters from all over the city) is mainly music fans who are more comfortable on their feet anyway. Stop in on Tuesday nights, when the DJ plays the best retro-rock this side of Detroit Rock City...."
Monday, March 29, 2004
NOT what I was expecting!
My friend Jim finally got me a copy of Battle Royale and it was quite the surprise! I was expecting a senseless movie with lots of blood and provocative teen on teen homicide. What I got instead was a movie that was a touching rumination on the stereotyping propagated by adults in regards to younger generations along with some great camera work and shocking character juxtaposition. (By the last I am referring to scenes like the one where the bratty slutty girl acts meek to gain the trust – before suddenly slitting her throat -- of another girl lower on the social ladder who has found a pretty sweet hiding place the bratty girl could use. Or the meek fat boy being the first to lose his marbles and start burying crossbow bolts into the chests of his classmates.)
Yeah, I know that all sounds pompous but I swear the movie was all the above things while simultaneously kicking my ass with some cool action bits.
My friend Jim finally got me a copy of Battle Royale and it was quite the surprise! I was expecting a senseless movie with lots of blood and provocative teen on teen homicide. What I got instead was a movie that was a touching rumination on the stereotyping propagated by adults in regards to younger generations along with some great camera work and shocking character juxtaposition. (By the last I am referring to scenes like the one where the bratty slutty girl acts meek to gain the trust – before suddenly slitting her throat -- of another girl lower on the social ladder who has found a pretty sweet hiding place the bratty girl could use. Or the meek fat boy being the first to lose his marbles and start burying crossbow bolts into the chests of his classmates.)
Yeah, I know that all sounds pompous but I swear the movie was all the above things while simultaneously kicking my ass with some cool action bits.
Busy and bummin' a bit.
More later. Let's just say I'm -- as usual -- snowed under at work and that my dad's appointment with the oncologist didn't exactly plaster a smile across my face. The doctor does seem like a good guy who knows what he's talking about so I feel like my dad is in good hands. Now it's just up to a mixture of science and my dad's own body to beat the fuck out of this cancer...
More later. Let's just say I'm -- as usual -- snowed under at work and that my dad's appointment with the oncologist didn't exactly plaster a smile across my face. The doctor does seem like a good guy who knows what he's talking about so I feel like my dad is in good hands. Now it's just up to a mixture of science and my dad's own body to beat the fuck out of this cancer...
Thursday, March 25, 2004
Scary, like shaky scary.
So it’s official, my dad has esophageal cancer. I’m going in with him and my mom and my brother to meet with an oncologist tomorrow so right now my family and I are just kind of operating in a haze as we gather what information we can. I did some research and one of the warning signs that you may be at risk is the indigestion and stomach problems I’ve been dealing with for years so you can bet your sweet ass I’m getting myself into a doctor and getting some pix taken of my insides as quickly as I can.
As for my dad, I’m just crossing my fingers and hoping for the best. A lot of the literature out there seems to indicate there are numerous methods of treatment. Unfortunately most people don’t catch the tumor until it’s rather large so the rate of survival seems low, but when I was picking up my dad from some testing last week the doctor said the tumor seemed mostly contained with only a portion spreading outside his esophagus and while it was larger than any physician would like to see it wasn’t massive either. One thing he said that chilled me was that part of the tumor was resting against a main artery and had it broken into the artery wall it would probably be inoperable…luckily it hasn’t.
So between the long week of trade show craziness and this weighty situation one might say I’m running on batteries badly in need of a charge. I feel a bit like a zombie, just going through the motions and counting down the days until I can unplug from the corporate world for a few day, recharge and come back with a more positive attitude. I’m heading to Bloomington/Normal, IL tomorrow night to see Rockit Girl and American Cosmonaut and to visit some old, and unfortunately long neglected, friends from my early college years. Hopefully the visit to the oncologist earlier in the day will reveal information that might allow a bit of hopeful celebration. At least that’s what I’m hoping for.
So it’s official, my dad has esophageal cancer. I’m going in with him and my mom and my brother to meet with an oncologist tomorrow so right now my family and I are just kind of operating in a haze as we gather what information we can. I did some research and one of the warning signs that you may be at risk is the indigestion and stomach problems I’ve been dealing with for years so you can bet your sweet ass I’m getting myself into a doctor and getting some pix taken of my insides as quickly as I can.
As for my dad, I’m just crossing my fingers and hoping for the best. A lot of the literature out there seems to indicate there are numerous methods of treatment. Unfortunately most people don’t catch the tumor until it’s rather large so the rate of survival seems low, but when I was picking up my dad from some testing last week the doctor said the tumor seemed mostly contained with only a portion spreading outside his esophagus and while it was larger than any physician would like to see it wasn’t massive either. One thing he said that chilled me was that part of the tumor was resting against a main artery and had it broken into the artery wall it would probably be inoperable…luckily it hasn’t.
So between the long week of trade show craziness and this weighty situation one might say I’m running on batteries badly in need of a charge. I feel a bit like a zombie, just going through the motions and counting down the days until I can unplug from the corporate world for a few day, recharge and come back with a more positive attitude. I’m heading to Bloomington/Normal, IL tomorrow night to see Rockit Girl and American Cosmonaut and to visit some old, and unfortunately long neglected, friends from my early college years. Hopefully the visit to the oncologist earlier in the day will reveal information that might allow a bit of hopeful celebration. At least that’s what I’m hoping for.
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
Really, I’m wiped.
No, seriously. I just worked a trade show here in Chicago that pretty much defines how the things I help create are going to sell for the rest of the year. I haven’t worked a trade show since the mid-80’s when my dad’s old company paid me something like twenty bucks to dress up like a leprechaun and run around trying to spread the good word of O’Brien homes. On the plus side many of my companies were very well received – and that’s an understatement. On the downside I’ve been working insane hours for the past week and a half and had to work through the weekend and now I’m back in the office. Man-o-man do I need a break!
Highlights from the show, you ask? Well there was a David Lynch moment when I was walking in on the first day and the first thing I see is a choreographed dance number with people waving hand-held vacuum cleaners. I seriously had a moment where I went, “No way. This is not my life.” And wanted to turn tail and run.
It got better though as I was lucky to have two demo-girls in my booth – and they both shared the same name so even my crappy memory didn’t fail me in this instance – and their chattiness really helped to pass the time when I wasn’t talking to buyers. If it wouldn’t have been taken the wrong way I would have invited both of them out for a drink to show my appreciation! Also I was situated right across from a coffee shop my company was hosting so I got plenty of caffeine. The best part though was that I was centrally located to almost all the food demos so I was able to nosh pretty much non-stop.
On top of all this I got to meet George Foreman which was pretty durn cool. Celebrities don’t usually excite me but I have to admit that Foreman is a bit of an icon in my eyes. Super nazz.
But, I mean, the show itself was non-stop between the convention center and the evening dinners and parties and so on and so on. Photogal did get to meet a bunch of my co-workers at our opening party – which featured music by both Jim Belushi and Aretha Franklin – and we were both wowed by the sheer spectacle of all the free food and booze and entertainment. So there were definite pay-offs that popped up in the middle of all this hard work.
However I cannot fucking wait to get on a plane to New Orleans for a much needed and very deserved mini vacation in two weeks!
No, seriously. I just worked a trade show here in Chicago that pretty much defines how the things I help create are going to sell for the rest of the year. I haven’t worked a trade show since the mid-80’s when my dad’s old company paid me something like twenty bucks to dress up like a leprechaun and run around trying to spread the good word of O’Brien homes. On the plus side many of my companies were very well received – and that’s an understatement. On the downside I’ve been working insane hours for the past week and a half and had to work through the weekend and now I’m back in the office. Man-o-man do I need a break!
Highlights from the show, you ask? Well there was a David Lynch moment when I was walking in on the first day and the first thing I see is a choreographed dance number with people waving hand-held vacuum cleaners. I seriously had a moment where I went, “No way. This is not my life.” And wanted to turn tail and run.
It got better though as I was lucky to have two demo-girls in my booth – and they both shared the same name so even my crappy memory didn’t fail me in this instance – and their chattiness really helped to pass the time when I wasn’t talking to buyers. If it wouldn’t have been taken the wrong way I would have invited both of them out for a drink to show my appreciation! Also I was situated right across from a coffee shop my company was hosting so I got plenty of caffeine. The best part though was that I was centrally located to almost all the food demos so I was able to nosh pretty much non-stop.
On top of all this I got to meet George Foreman which was pretty durn cool. Celebrities don’t usually excite me but I have to admit that Foreman is a bit of an icon in my eyes. Super nazz.
But, I mean, the show itself was non-stop between the convention center and the evening dinners and parties and so on and so on. Photogal did get to meet a bunch of my co-workers at our opening party – which featured music by both Jim Belushi and Aretha Franklin – and we were both wowed by the sheer spectacle of all the free food and booze and entertainment. So there were definite pay-offs that popped up in the middle of all this hard work.
However I cannot fucking wait to get on a plane to New Orleans for a much needed and very deserved mini vacation in two weeks!
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
Whoa.
I never realized just how much Guns N' Roses ripped off Nazareth! This was discovered while working on my "all-cowbell" mix-tape.
Also, the new Wilco's a real mind-fuck for anyone who actually believed the press about it being "accessible."
Also, I got my picture taken with George Foreman yesterday...I rock!
I never realized just how much Guns N' Roses ripped off Nazareth! This was discovered while working on my "all-cowbell" mix-tape.
Also, the new Wilco's a real mind-fuck for anyone who actually believed the press about it being "accessible."
Also, I got my picture taken with George Foreman yesterday...I rock!
Almost to the finish line!
...still in the midst of that trade show, but it's over today, sooooo...
TONIGHT
Rudy
and
DJ Tankboy
bring it on.
Also it's the
Kiss-N-Ride Listening Party
for their new EP
Someone Killed My Generation
Free beer and free pizza from 8-10pm
and we'll spin tunes from the new disc throughout the night.
Old school rock and/or roll attitude
mixed with only the finest selections
from yesterday, today and tomorrow.
TONIGHT, Tuesday March 23, 2004
Free PBR and pizza from 8-10pm
Stunning musical selections from 8pm until 2am
Rock + Roll + Tankboy + Rudy = Sexy
Ten56
1056 N Damen
Chicago, IL
773.227.4906
The Chicago RedEye says: "The teeny tables and scant booths don't leave a whole lot of room for sitting, but the crowd (hipsters from all over the city) is mainly music fans who are more comfortable on their feet anyway. Stop in on Tuesday nights, when the DJ plays the best retro-rock this side of Detroit Rock City...."
...still in the midst of that trade show, but it's over today, sooooo...
Rudy
and
DJ Tankboy
bring it on.
Also it's the
Kiss-N-Ride Listening Party
for their new EP
Someone Killed My Generation
Free beer and free pizza from 8-10pm
and we'll spin tunes from the new disc throughout the night.
Old school rock and/or roll attitude
mixed with only the finest selections
from yesterday, today and tomorrow.
TONIGHT, Tuesday March 23, 2004
Free PBR and pizza from 8-10pm
Stunning musical selections from 8pm until 2am
Rock + Roll + Tankboy + Rudy = Sexy
Ten56
1056 N Damen
Chicago, IL
773.227.4906
The Chicago RedEye says: "The teeny tables and scant booths don't leave a whole lot of room for sitting, but the crowd (hipsters from all over the city) is mainly music fans who are more comfortable on their feet anyway. Stop in on Tuesday nights, when the DJ plays the best retro-rock this side of Detroit Rock City...."
Friday, March 19, 2004
Trade show.
This weekend I am missing both my oldest friend from high school's wedding and the SXSW festival down in Austin. Why? Well, it was just my luck that the biggest trade show in my industry happens to fall on this weekend as well this year. Due to that, I apologize in advance if posts are sparse over the next few days but, I have a feeling I'm gonna be pretty busy for the next week...
This weekend I am missing both my oldest friend from high school's wedding and the SXSW festival down in Austin. Why? Well, it was just my luck that the biggest trade show in my industry happens to fall on this weekend as well this year. Due to that, I apologize in advance if posts are sparse over the next few days but, I have a feeling I'm gonna be pretty busy for the next week...
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
Found the translation...
A local paper recently printed the whole scene from Lost In Translation where Bob Harris is shooting the Suntory commercial in English...ever wondered just what that frustrated director wa saying? Well, here it is!
DIRECTOR
Mr. Bob-san, you are relaxing in your study. On the table is a bottle of Suntory whiskey. Got it? Look slowly, with feeling, at the camera, and say it gently – say it as if you were speaking to an old friend. Just like Bogie is “Casablanca,” Here’s looking at you, kid – Suntory time.
TRANSLATOR
Umm. He want you to turn, looking at camera. OK?
HARRIS
That’s all he said?
TRANSLATOR
Yes. Turn to camera.
HARRIS
All right. Does he want me to turn from the right, or turn from the left?
TRANSLATOR
(to DIRECTOR)
Uh, umm. He’s ready now. He just wants to know if he’s supposed to turn from the left or turn from the right when the camera rolls. What should I tell him?
DIRECTOR
What difference does it make! Makes no difference! Don’t have time for that! Got it, Bob-san? Just psych yourself up, and quick! Look straight at the camera. At the camera. And slowly…with passion. Straight at the camera. And in your eyes there’s…passion. Got it?
TRANSLATOR
(to HARRIS)
Right side. And with intensity. OK?
HARRIS
Is that everything? It seemed like he said quite a bit more than that.
DIRECTOR
(to HARRIS, gesticulating wildly)
Listen, listen. This isn’t just about whiskey. Understand? Imagine you’re talking to an old friend. Gently. The emotions bubble up from the bottom of your heart. And don’t forget, psych yourself up!
TRANSLATOR
Like an old friend. And, into the camera.
HARRIS
OK.
DIRECTOR
Got it? You love whiskey. It’s Suntory time. OK?
HARRIS
OK.
DIRECTOR
OK?
(HARRIS nods)
DIRECTOR
(to crew)
OK! We’re rolling! Ready! Action!
HARRIS
(turning to the camera)
For relxing times…make it Suntory time.
DIRECTOR
Cut! Cut, cut, cut, cut!! You don’t seem to understand, do you? This is Suntory’s Hibiki. Suntory’s most expensive brand. Put more luxurious feeling into it. It’s not your everyday whiskey.
TRANSLATOR
Could you do it slower and…
DIRECTOR
Give it everything you’ve got!
TRANSLATOR
More intensity.
DIRECTOR
(to HARRIS)
Suntory time….
(to crew)
We’re rolling! Ready! Action!
HARRIS
For relaxing times…make it Suntory time.
DIRECTOR
Cut! Cut. Cut, cut, cut! I’m begging you, begging you…
(BOB HARRIS’ Suntory smile fades into annoyance)
A local paper recently printed the whole scene from Lost In Translation where Bob Harris is shooting the Suntory commercial in English...ever wondered just what that frustrated director wa saying? Well, here it is!
Mr. Bob-san, you are relaxing in your study. On the table is a bottle of Suntory whiskey. Got it? Look slowly, with feeling, at the camera, and say it gently – say it as if you were speaking to an old friend. Just like Bogie is “Casablanca,” Here’s looking at you, kid – Suntory time.
Umm. He want you to turn, looking at camera. OK?
That’s all he said?
Yes. Turn to camera.
All right. Does he want me to turn from the right, or turn from the left?
(to DIRECTOR)
Uh, umm. He’s ready now. He just wants to know if he’s supposed to turn from the left or turn from the right when the camera rolls. What should I tell him?
What difference does it make! Makes no difference! Don’t have time for that! Got it, Bob-san? Just psych yourself up, and quick! Look straight at the camera. At the camera. And slowly…with passion. Straight at the camera. And in your eyes there’s…passion. Got it?
(to HARRIS)
Right side. And with intensity. OK?
Is that everything? It seemed like he said quite a bit more than that.
(to HARRIS, gesticulating wildly)
Listen, listen. This isn’t just about whiskey. Understand? Imagine you’re talking to an old friend. Gently. The emotions bubble up from the bottom of your heart. And don’t forget, psych yourself up!
Like an old friend. And, into the camera.
OK.
Got it? You love whiskey. It’s Suntory time. OK?
OK.
OK?
DIRECTOR
(to crew)
OK! We’re rolling! Ready! Action!
(turning to the camera)
For relxing times…make it Suntory time.
Cut! Cut, cut, cut, cut!! You don’t seem to understand, do you? This is Suntory’s Hibiki. Suntory’s most expensive brand. Put more luxurious feeling into it. It’s not your everyday whiskey.
Could you do it slower and…
Give it everything you’ve got!
More intensity.
(to HARRIS)
Suntory time….
We’re rolling! Ready! Action!
For relaxing times…make it Suntory time.
Cut! Cut. Cut, cut, cut! I’m begging you, begging you…
Monday, March 15, 2004
Vote damnit!
If you live in Illinois tomorrow is the day to hit the polls. As a public service, I’ve included a selection of phone numbers for my Chicago area readers to call in case they are at all confused about whether they are registered or where to vote. Also, each section is linked to a voter information page so use those to familiarize yourself with tomorrow’s ballots if you – shame on you – haven’t already done so. Obviously the presidential nomination isn’t really all that important now, but we are narrowing down the Senate race with tomorrow’s ballot so please get out and let your voice be heard. Use this info and get out there and vote!
Chicago
Polling Places: 312.269.7976
Registration verification: 312.269.1604
Hearing Impaired: 312.269.0027
Suburban Cook County
Information: 312.603.0906
In Spanish: 312.603.6767
In Chinese: 312.603.6769
In Polish: 312.603.6770
In Korean: 312.603.6745
Registration Verification: 312.603.0906
Polling Places: 312.603.0906
Disabled Voters: 312.603.0929
Hearing Impaired: 312.603.0902
DuPage County
630.682.7440
Kane County
630.232.5993
Lake County
847.377.2410
McHenry County
815.334.4242
Will County
815.740.4615
Thanks to the Chicago Tribune for printing up this handy list today.
If you live in Illinois tomorrow is the day to hit the polls. As a public service, I’ve included a selection of phone numbers for my Chicago area readers to call in case they are at all confused about whether they are registered or where to vote. Also, each section is linked to a voter information page so use those to familiarize yourself with tomorrow’s ballots if you – shame on you – haven’t already done so. Obviously the presidential nomination isn’t really all that important now, but we are narrowing down the Senate race with tomorrow’s ballot so please get out and let your voice be heard. Use this info and get out there and vote!
Chicago
Polling Places: 312.269.7976
Registration verification: 312.269.1604
Hearing Impaired: 312.269.0027
Suburban Cook County
Information: 312.603.0906
In Spanish: 312.603.6767
In Chinese: 312.603.6769
In Polish: 312.603.6770
In Korean: 312.603.6745
Registration Verification: 312.603.0906
Polling Places: 312.603.0906
Disabled Voters: 312.603.0929
Hearing Impaired: 312.603.0902
DuPage County
630.682.7440
Kane County
630.232.5993
Lake County
847.377.2410
McHenry County
815.334.4242
Will County
815.740.4615
Thanks to the Chicago Tribune for printing up this handy list today.
Friday, March 12, 2004
Merely mortal.
I got that phone call last night that no one ever wants to get. My dad has been having problems with indigestion and whatnot for quite a while now. As a matter of fact, I just assumed it was a genetic thing since I have constant problems with my stomach as well. We’ve both been heavy drinkers in our time – though my dad largely went off the sauce years and years ago – and I just always assumed that was the root of our stomach ailments.
Well I guess in the past year or so it’s gotten really bad with my dad so his doctor sent him in to have one of those lovely experiences where they stick a camera down your throat and get a really good look. The doctor figured it must be an ulcer and he wanted to pinpoint its location so he could best figure out how to treat it.
Only the doc didn’t find an ulcer. He found a tumor.
So now my dad has to go in for more tests so they decide if they need to operate to remove it or if chemotherapy will be better. Chemo-FUCKING-therapy! Why would my dad need chemo? He’s not that sick, right? RIGHT?
Okay…okay….if it sounds like I’m freaking out a little it’s because I am. I’m sure my dad will pull through and be fine but it did make me begin to face the fact that one day my dad won’t be fine and then he’ll be gone. To carry that thread further, I realize I’m like my dad in a lot of ways. Some of them are good and some of them are bad but we definitely seem to share a very similar temperament and maybe it’s because of that identification that him possibly being sick scares me even more. Because then I think of the chances of me getting sick too. I mean, if my dad can develop a tumor when he doesn’t smoke and barely drinks what can I expect to be nurturing somewhere in my nicotine-addled bourbon-drenched system?
Anyway, this was supposed to be a light-hearted entry about what a great time Photogal, Rudy, Rick, Josh and I had last night but I guess this news sort of eclipsed that playful romp. The funny thing is that I got this news last night but it didn’t really sink in until this morning as little old ladies and semi-drivers were cutting me off, raising my blood pressure and transmitting more oxygenated blood to my brain forcing me to think a little harder than I probably would, early on a Friday morning…
I got that phone call last night that no one ever wants to get. My dad has been having problems with indigestion and whatnot for quite a while now. As a matter of fact, I just assumed it was a genetic thing since I have constant problems with my stomach as well. We’ve both been heavy drinkers in our time – though my dad largely went off the sauce years and years ago – and I just always assumed that was the root of our stomach ailments.
Well I guess in the past year or so it’s gotten really bad with my dad so his doctor sent him in to have one of those lovely experiences where they stick a camera down your throat and get a really good look. The doctor figured it must be an ulcer and he wanted to pinpoint its location so he could best figure out how to treat it.
Only the doc didn’t find an ulcer. He found a tumor.
So now my dad has to go in for more tests so they decide if they need to operate to remove it or if chemotherapy will be better. Chemo-FUCKING-therapy! Why would my dad need chemo? He’s not that sick, right? RIGHT?
Okay…okay….if it sounds like I’m freaking out a little it’s because I am. I’m sure my dad will pull through and be fine but it did make me begin to face the fact that one day my dad won’t be fine and then he’ll be gone. To carry that thread further, I realize I’m like my dad in a lot of ways. Some of them are good and some of them are bad but we definitely seem to share a very similar temperament and maybe it’s because of that identification that him possibly being sick scares me even more. Because then I think of the chances of me getting sick too. I mean, if my dad can develop a tumor when he doesn’t smoke and barely drinks what can I expect to be nurturing somewhere in my nicotine-addled bourbon-drenched system?
Anyway, this was supposed to be a light-hearted entry about what a great time Photogal, Rudy, Rick, Josh and I had last night but I guess this news sort of eclipsed that playful romp. The funny thing is that I got this news last night but it didn’t really sink in until this morning as little old ladies and semi-drivers were cutting me off, raising my blood pressure and transmitting more oxygenated blood to my brain forcing me to think a little harder than I probably would, early on a Friday morning…
Thursday, March 11, 2004
Turnin' Thirty.
I crossed the landmark three-oh already and recently got an e-mail from a friend asking me for some sage advice as she herself stares down the behemoth and enters the world of -- gasp -- thirtysomething...dum de dum dum...
So here, to aid her and the legions of folks the world over like her, is the super-secret internal memo circulated to all folks who have crossed the threshold of thirty...so without further ado...
SO NOW YOU'RE THIRTY
or
Tips on surviving now that you're an "adult."
- You are now too old to date eighteen year olds. Prospective mates must be at least nineteen or "really mature for their age."
- It's officially okay to like "classic rock" and even some "easy listening" without that ironic smirk. Except for Michael Bolton. That is never okay.
- Speaking of classic rock. R.E.M, U2 and (brace yourself) Nirvana are now "classic rock." Get used to it.
- You will explode like a mouse in Rock 'n' Roll High School if you attempt to listen to any "modern-rock stations" anymore so do yourself a favor and take it off your preprogrammed station list. Also, lay off the MTV. That should be easy since there isn't really any music on that station anymore anyway. Take consolation in VH1 from here on out.
- In three years you will undergo a personal mid-life crisis that will last exactly 64 hours. Just ride it out.
- In ten years you will undergo an actual mid-life crisis. Please, at this time, be certain to remember rule number one to avoid looking like a twat. Also, nothing quite says "dick-head" like a little red sports car.
- You're too old to date boys/girls in bands now. Unless they are on Thrill Jockey or Touch And Go or are affiliated with Tortoise in any way shape or form. This rule adjusts whenever you move to a new city and re-acclimates itself to other regionally acceptable indie-rockers.
- Burn that mesh trucker's hat. It's not even close to funny anymore. You are an idiot.
- Don't worry, it's still okay not to like Oprah. That happens after you turn forty and/or move to the suburbs. But that'll never happen to you, right?
- If you are caught drinking Boone's Farm anymore your friends will laugh at you mercilessly and threaten to spearhead an intervention for you. Strangely the same can't be said if you're caught snorting a pound of blow off a hooker-s and/or gigolo's ass. Then you're friends will make you wear a penis-hat since you will obviously be at your own bachelor or bachelorette party.
- For women: It's okay to notice your biological clock is ticking but don't freak out.
- For men: Her biological clock is ticking, run!
- Only five years until you can be president!
I crossed the landmark three-oh already and recently got an e-mail from a friend asking me for some sage advice as she herself stares down the behemoth and enters the world of -- gasp -- thirtysomething...dum de dum dum...
So here, to aid her and the legions of folks the world over like her, is the super-secret internal memo circulated to all folks who have crossed the threshold of thirty...so without further ado...
or
Tips on surviving now that you're an "adult."
- You are now too old to date eighteen year olds. Prospective mates must be at least nineteen or "really mature for their age."
- It's officially okay to like "classic rock" and even some "easy listening" without that ironic smirk. Except for Michael Bolton. That is never okay.
- Speaking of classic rock. R.E.M, U2 and (brace yourself) Nirvana are now "classic rock." Get used to it.
- You will explode like a mouse in Rock 'n' Roll High School if you attempt to listen to any "modern-rock stations" anymore so do yourself a favor and take it off your preprogrammed station list. Also, lay off the MTV. That should be easy since there isn't really any music on that station anymore anyway. Take consolation in VH1 from here on out.
- In three years you will undergo a personal mid-life crisis that will last exactly 64 hours. Just ride it out.
- In ten years you will undergo an actual mid-life crisis. Please, at this time, be certain to remember rule number one to avoid looking like a twat. Also, nothing quite says "dick-head" like a little red sports car.
- You're too old to date boys/girls in bands now. Unless they are on Thrill Jockey or Touch And Go or are affiliated with Tortoise in any way shape or form. This rule adjusts whenever you move to a new city and re-acclimates itself to other regionally acceptable indie-rockers.
- Burn that mesh trucker's hat. It's not even close to funny anymore. You are an idiot.
- Don't worry, it's still okay not to like Oprah. That happens after you turn forty and/or move to the suburbs. But that'll never happen to you, right?
- If you are caught drinking Boone's Farm anymore your friends will laugh at you mercilessly and threaten to spearhead an intervention for you. Strangely the same can't be said if you're caught snorting a pound of blow off a hooker-s and/or gigolo's ass. Then you're friends will make you wear a penis-hat since you will obviously be at your own bachelor or bachelorette party.
- For women: It's okay to notice your biological clock is ticking but don't freak out.
- For men: Her biological clock is ticking, run!
- Only five years until you can be president!
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
Everybody was kung-fu fightin’!
So last night went well enough, except for the ruckus that exploded from the back of the bar during one of Rudy’s sets. Finally, our first Tuesday night fight! It was only a matter of time since our highly combustible mixture of yuppies and rockers was due to go off eventually. Okay, I exaggerate and admit I was pretty surprised a fight actually broke out. What surprised me even more is that my friend Skid was one of the two people fighting!
Anyone that has met Skid knows he’s one of the nicest guys around and extremely well humored and mellow to boot. It was immediately obvious Skid wasn’t the instigator but it was also a bit shocking to see that at the end of it Skid was unmarked and his protagonist was obviously the loser of this particular fracas.
As is the rule, both parties had to leave the bar. I’ve noticed people don’t get this and often say things like, “But I didn’t start it!” and seem to miss the point that who started what doesn’t really matter. After a fight tensions are raised between not only the two pugilists but also amongst their two groups of friends. If one guy or another stayed there’s a pretty good chance anger would continue to boil and manifest itself in, say, a car driving through the front of a bar. (You think I’m kidding, but that was the after-effect of a guy getting tossed from Nick’s a few years ago.)
So Skid did the right thing and immediately headed outside…and was immediately trailed by a few of our friends – obviously in the mood to, um, let the other guy know what a mistake it was to tussle with one of our friends in the first place. (Okay, so it’s a dumb male response but it is inevitable and if I was called on to provide support in such a situation I’d be there in a second.) Skid of course took the high road, grabbed a cab to avoid any further fracas and took off.
Inside, the jerk that started the whole thing was hemming and hawing – not realizing Skid had already left – and was trying to stall his departure by asking for water, asking for ice, asking if it was cool now, asking if the management was pissed and – I shit you not – asking if he could leave through the back door! I mean this guy was with a bunch of his friends and he still wanted to sneak out the back! I can understand if you’re alone and realize that starting a fight wasn’t such a good idea and wanting to avoid getting your ass beat by a crowbar right outside the front door but c’mon!
As a side note, while this was going on, the door guy asked me to card a group of girls that came in. It’s been a while since I worked the door at a bar but it only took me about two seconds to remember how annoying it can be. A little piece of advice to the ladies: I do not care how hot you are or who you know, just pull out your fucking ID, show it to me and go about your business. Saying, “Who are you? You must be new here.” When I’ve been around for the last decade only makes you look even stupider. Just follow the fucking rules, okay?
Anyway, so the guy finally leaves, tempers cooled and the remainder of the evening went as well as can be expected. A little dancing here and there, a little flirting amongst the clientele and a whole bunch of vodka consumed by your truly.
That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.
So last night went well enough, except for the ruckus that exploded from the back of the bar during one of Rudy’s sets. Finally, our first Tuesday night fight! It was only a matter of time since our highly combustible mixture of yuppies and rockers was due to go off eventually. Okay, I exaggerate and admit I was pretty surprised a fight actually broke out. What surprised me even more is that my friend Skid was one of the two people fighting!
Anyone that has met Skid knows he’s one of the nicest guys around and extremely well humored and mellow to boot. It was immediately obvious Skid wasn’t the instigator but it was also a bit shocking to see that at the end of it Skid was unmarked and his protagonist was obviously the loser of this particular fracas.
As is the rule, both parties had to leave the bar. I’ve noticed people don’t get this and often say things like, “But I didn’t start it!” and seem to miss the point that who started what doesn’t really matter. After a fight tensions are raised between not only the two pugilists but also amongst their two groups of friends. If one guy or another stayed there’s a pretty good chance anger would continue to boil and manifest itself in, say, a car driving through the front of a bar. (You think I’m kidding, but that was the after-effect of a guy getting tossed from Nick’s a few years ago.)
So Skid did the right thing and immediately headed outside…and was immediately trailed by a few of our friends – obviously in the mood to, um, let the other guy know what a mistake it was to tussle with one of our friends in the first place. (Okay, so it’s a dumb male response but it is inevitable and if I was called on to provide support in such a situation I’d be there in a second.) Skid of course took the high road, grabbed a cab to avoid any further fracas and took off.
Inside, the jerk that started the whole thing was hemming and hawing – not realizing Skid had already left – and was trying to stall his departure by asking for water, asking for ice, asking if it was cool now, asking if the management was pissed and – I shit you not – asking if he could leave through the back door! I mean this guy was with a bunch of his friends and he still wanted to sneak out the back! I can understand if you’re alone and realize that starting a fight wasn’t such a good idea and wanting to avoid getting your ass beat by a crowbar right outside the front door but c’mon!
As a side note, while this was going on, the door guy asked me to card a group of girls that came in. It’s been a while since I worked the door at a bar but it only took me about two seconds to remember how annoying it can be. A little piece of advice to the ladies: I do not care how hot you are or who you know, just pull out your fucking ID, show it to me and go about your business. Saying, “Who are you? You must be new here.” When I’ve been around for the last decade only makes you look even stupider. Just follow the fucking rules, okay?
Anyway, so the guy finally leaves, tempers cooled and the remainder of the evening went as well as can be expected. A little dancing here and there, a little flirting amongst the clientele and a whole bunch of vodka consumed by your truly.
That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
We're bringing it back down
to just the two of us tonight.
Rudy
and
DJ Tankboy
break it down to the basic
blood, sweat and tears you've grown to love.
Old school rock and/or roll attitude
mixed with only the finest selections
from yesterday, today and tomorrow.
TONIGHT, Tuesday March 9, 2004
Free PBR from 8-9pm
Stunning musical selections from 9pm until 2am
Jerry Lewis may be the king of comedy
but we are the kings of Tuesday night.
Ten56
1056 N Damen
Chicago, IL
773.227.4906
The Chicago RedEye says: "The teeny tables and scant booths don't leave a whole lot of room for sitting, but the crowd (hipsters from all over the city) is mainly music fans who are more comfortable on their feet anyway. Stop in on Tuesday nights, when the DJ plays the best retro-rock this side of Detroit Rock City...."
Monday, March 08, 2004
Hey, fun reads!
This girl I briefly dated – like not even past the two week mark which is lucky since it was at that mark she decided to marry the man who is now her husband – has a blog! She writes pretty darn well, way better than I do two entries down, but her sanity must be called into question since she willingly moved to Canada! She must be given credit for holding onto a few of her marbles, though, since she knew well enough to run the hell away from my ass...now I'm just Photogal's problem!Seriously, check out her writing and then head on over to her on-line music mag.
This girl I briefly dated – like not even past the two week mark which is lucky since it was at that mark she decided to marry the man who is now her husband – has a blog! She writes pretty darn well, way better than I do two entries down, but her sanity must be called into question since she willingly moved to Canada! She must be given credit for holding onto a few of her marbles, though, since she knew well enough to run the hell away from my ass...now I'm just Photogal's problem!Seriously, check out her writing and then head on over to her on-line music mag.
Well wouldja get a a load of that?
This is something I initially pegged as a hoax when it showed up in my e-mail in-box a few days ago. Apparently it ain't. Interesting...
Well, here is one liberal leaning site that will air this little piece of news, so stuffy conservative types can stop griping about not getting so much "fair and balanced" reporting from us in Irag, m'kay?
This is something I initially pegged as a hoax when it showed up in my e-mail in-box a few days ago. Apparently it ain't. Interesting...
Well, here is one liberal leaning site that will air this little piece of news, so stuffy conservative types can stop griping about not getting so much "fair and balanced" reporting from us in Irag, m'kay?
Gush? Who? Me?
I could go on and on about the huge turn-out at Double Door Friday night. I could rave about The Bon Mots supremely tight set, or Woolworthy’s terrific new tunes debuted that evening, or Sour Deluxe’s quantum jump as a live band or Rock Star Club’s punishing yet uplifting and life confirming set. I could relate the tale of Rick from Woolworthy talking to radio personality Richard Milne and Milne, upon hearing my real name then repeating it for a few times before saying, “Isn’t that Tankboy?” (Please note, I've never even e-mailed the guy so I have no idea how he knows who I am at all so I'm tickled!) I could tell you just how h-h-hott Rudy’s sister is but then he’d have to pummel me. I could tell you that I was a bit bummed Photogal missed the whole thing but I probably wouldn’t have gotten as goofy had she been there. I could tell you that I was beaming with a smile creasing my face so deeply my head was threatening to split in half.
I won’t bore you though. If you missed it, tough luck…you missed a helluva time!
Instead I though I would tell you how tickled I was at the Chuck Close interview from 1998 they re-ran on Fresh Air Friday morning.
Why?
Well, where else are you going to hear someone drop Brobdingnagian into a conversation without tripping up the host or her audience? Every once in a while it’s nice to be reminded that there are other people out there that enjoy folks exercising oratory skills thus allowing language to stretch out while remaining ever more specific.
That is to say, folks that make there point much more clearly than I just tried to…damn you Monday morning brain fuzzies…begone!
I could go on and on about the huge turn-out at Double Door Friday night. I could rave about The Bon Mots supremely tight set, or Woolworthy’s terrific new tunes debuted that evening, or Sour Deluxe’s quantum jump as a live band or Rock Star Club’s punishing yet uplifting and life confirming set. I could relate the tale of Rick from Woolworthy talking to radio personality Richard Milne and Milne, upon hearing my real name then repeating it for a few times before saying, “Isn’t that Tankboy?” (Please note, I've never even e-mailed the guy so I have no idea how he knows who I am at all so I'm tickled!) I could tell you just how h-h-hott Rudy’s sister is but then he’d have to pummel me. I could tell you that I was a bit bummed Photogal missed the whole thing but I probably wouldn’t have gotten as goofy had she been there. I could tell you that I was beaming with a smile creasing my face so deeply my head was threatening to split in half.
I won’t bore you though. If you missed it, tough luck…you missed a helluva time!
Instead I though I would tell you how tickled I was at the Chuck Close interview from 1998 they re-ran on Fresh Air Friday morning.
Why?
Well, where else are you going to hear someone drop Brobdingnagian into a conversation without tripping up the host or her audience? Every once in a while it’s nice to be reminded that there are other people out there that enjoy folks exercising oratory skills thus allowing language to stretch out while remaining ever more specific.
That is to say, folks that make there point much more clearly than I just tried to…damn you Monday morning brain fuzzies…begone!
Friday, March 05, 2004
I got drunk and I fell down.
Literally. Apparently Photogal found me face down in our dining room last night. Not cool. Color me seven shades of red for being a total dumbass.
I will try not to make the same mistake tonight.
TONIGHT at DOUBLE DOOR
Tankboy Presents
Rock Star Club
Sour Deluxe
Woolworthy
The Bon Mots
Doors at 8:00pm
Show at 9:00pm
$7 cover
Literally. Apparently Photogal found me face down in our dining room last night. Not cool. Color me seven shades of red for being a total dumbass.
I will try not to make the same mistake tonight.
Tankboy Presents
Rock Star Club
Sour Deluxe
Woolworthy
The Bon Mots
Doors at 8:00pm
Show at 9:00pm
$7 cover
Thursday, March 04, 2004
Promoting rock and/or roll to the masses.
I’m all excited since I opened up this week’s Onion and not only is the show I put together at Double Door tomorrow one of their featured concerts (complete with a photo of Sour Deluxe and a ticket giveaway) but Double Door themselves finally remembered to put my name (well, Tankboy Welcomes…) in their advertising in the local papers. Wa-hoo!
To say I’m a bit excited about tomorrow’s show would be an understatement. I’m a big fan of, and friends with, every band that is playing and two of the four are releasing brand new EPs that just kill me. Rock Star Club finally committed one of my favorite tunes of theirs, “High Life,” to tape and Sour Deluxe finally made that quantum leap from wearing their influences on their collective sleeve to funneling those influences into a sound that’s all their own. Woolworthy is always one of my favorite live groups and the fact that they’ve been introducing more and more new material at each of their recent shows just adds to the excitement. The Bon Mots hold a special place in my heart since they used to play low profile gigs The Note back when I booked it and then made their home at The Pontiac on a pretty regular basis for a while. Then they released their debut album, everybody got to see just how awesome they are and this is the first time I’ve been able to work with them again in over a year!
Hmmm….I was going to say more but my mind just totally went blank. Seriously. That was wacky. Hmmm.
I’m all excited since I opened up this week’s Onion and not only is the show I put together at Double Door tomorrow one of their featured concerts (complete with a photo of Sour Deluxe and a ticket giveaway) but Double Door themselves finally remembered to put my name (well, Tankboy Welcomes…) in their advertising in the local papers. Wa-hoo!
To say I’m a bit excited about tomorrow’s show would be an understatement. I’m a big fan of, and friends with, every band that is playing and two of the four are releasing brand new EPs that just kill me. Rock Star Club finally committed one of my favorite tunes of theirs, “High Life,” to tape and Sour Deluxe finally made that quantum leap from wearing their influences on their collective sleeve to funneling those influences into a sound that’s all their own. Woolworthy is always one of my favorite live groups and the fact that they’ve been introducing more and more new material at each of their recent shows just adds to the excitement. The Bon Mots hold a special place in my heart since they used to play low profile gigs The Note back when I booked it and then made their home at The Pontiac on a pretty regular basis for a while. Then they released their debut album, everybody got to see just how awesome they are and this is the first time I’ve been able to work with them again in over a year!
Hmmm….I was going to say more but my mind just totally went blank. Seriously. That was wacky. Hmmm.
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
I would've thought I was a promoter, but...
emo. 28-33 scene points. you go to shows and act
pretentious, but that's the way we like you.
how many scene points do you have?
emo. 28-33 scene points. you go to shows and act
pretentious, but that's the way we like you.
how many scene points do you have?
It’s Photogal’s Birthday!
So everyone say happy birthday to her as she takes the day off and tends to non-work related matters.
Me? I’ve gotta work so I should probably get to it. Let me just mention, though, that it I grow ever more astounded from week to week as more and more folks show up to groove to the sounds spun by Rudy and I. I’ve also noticed that each week we seem to get more and more actual boogying goin’ on in the house which always tickles and makes me feel good.
Last night was extra special as it was a dual birthday celebration for Photogal and our friend Jenny Evil so I just want to say thanks to the gals for showing up and kicking the evening up a notch!
Don’t you wish you were there? Oh well, there’s always next week!
So everyone say happy birthday to her as she takes the day off and tends to non-work related matters.
Me? I’ve gotta work so I should probably get to it. Let me just mention, though, that it I grow ever more astounded from week to week as more and more folks show up to groove to the sounds spun by Rudy and I. I’ve also noticed that each week we seem to get more and more actual boogying goin’ on in the house which always tickles and makes me feel good.
Last night was extra special as it was a dual birthday celebration for Photogal and our friend Jenny Evil so I just want to say thanks to the gals for showing up and kicking the evening up a notch!
Don’t you wish you were there? Oh well, there’s always next week!
Monday, March 01, 2004
Edumacational.
Let's give it to this clip as Bush in 41.2 Seconds is about as honest and funny as one can get.
Let's give it to this clip as Bush in 41.2 Seconds is about as honest and funny as one can get.
World famous!
Surreal moment #2547: While in Minneapolis, as I was leaving the Urge Overkill show, I ran across a guy handing out flyers for an upcoming show. He looked familiar so I asked him if we had met. He looked at me and said, “Tankboy!” Apparently he was in The Melismatics, a fabulous band I had done a show with a few months ago and recognized me.
My rep precedes me even over state lines! The friends I was with just thought I was a big geek though and they’re probably right. It was kind of cool if you ask me.
Surreal moment #2547: While in Minneapolis, as I was leaving the Urge Overkill show, I ran across a guy handing out flyers for an upcoming show. He looked familiar so I asked him if we had met. He looked at me and said, “Tankboy!” Apparently he was in The Melismatics, a fabulous band I had done a show with a few months ago and recognized me.
My rep precedes me even over state lines! The friends I was with just thought I was a big geek though and they’re probably right. It was kind of cool if you ask me.
I'm ba-aaack...
I was in Minneapolis last Friday and you can read about that here.
My brother came into town from Canada Saturday, so I spent the evening with him and my other sibling at a terrible Lincoln Park bar. The settings were made survivable by the company I was keeping and I have to give the establishment my kudos for not trying to stop the wrestling/boxing match that broke out between the three of us. A great time was had and all suffered quite a bit of bruising the next morning. It’s how we show our love for each other. Needless to say, Photogal was glad she chose not to attend.
Sunday was a lazy day with a few errands, a whole bunch of Angel and the Academy Awards. Too bad Mitch and Mickey didn’t pick up the Oscar for Best Song but at least we gotta see ‘em kiss, no?
Today I anticipate a busy day at work since I was out Friday…yay!
I was in Minneapolis last Friday and you can read about that here.
My brother came into town from Canada Saturday, so I spent the evening with him and my other sibling at a terrible Lincoln Park bar. The settings were made survivable by the company I was keeping and I have to give the establishment my kudos for not trying to stop the wrestling/boxing match that broke out between the three of us. A great time was had and all suffered quite a bit of bruising the next morning. It’s how we show our love for each other. Needless to say, Photogal was glad she chose not to attend.
Sunday was a lazy day with a few errands, a whole bunch of Angel and the Academy Awards. Too bad Mitch and Mickey didn’t pick up the Oscar for Best Song but at least we gotta see ‘em kiss, no?
Today I anticipate a busy day at work since I was out Friday…yay!