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my bid


Hey Maygsters, I think it was you who once told me you sometimes check this page multiple times a day to see if I wrote late? That one statement was enough to motivate this late entry; thanks. Sorry it sucks anyway.

Going on 10pm Thursday night and I was fully planning on not writing an entry for tomorrow. Yeah, I had some canned stuff I could slap together – but none of it seemed exciting enough to make an entry out of. Work had me frustrated today, to the point where I called it quits around 11am and headed home to sit on the couch and do e-mail and conference calls. Let me tell you, nice weather wafting through the windows and the iPod on shuffle make for a much more enjoyable working environment than 3 and 3/4 shoulder-high grey fabric walls and a grey desk. In counterpoint to my normal “working from home” days, I actually got a good bit done.

I’m such a procrastinator. It’s an trait I think I developed as a natural second-order effect of my desire to be lazy. I don’t consider my laziness a laziness of thinking, or creating, or reasoning – just a laziness of convenience. When things aren’t what I want to do, I drag my heels. Even when I want something done, but don’t want to put the effort forth to get it done – my laziness steps in and takes over. It’s a bad trait, one that has me constantly putting off things that are simple tasks – but it’s the way I’ve learned to work. In the end it all boils down to being extremely self-centered (I do feel I maintain a line between my self-centeredness and my caring for others before, but I won’t try and make the point here). Anyway, this paragraph doesn’t fit… it’s now over.

Last night our company (remember, my first girlfriend and Sharaun’s college roommate?), Robin, inquired about the whole “blog” thing. And, being that she represented a major milestone in my adolescence, she is fairly well represented here – and I think she was surprised to find that out. Anyway, I ran a search for her name and handed her the laptop. She read through the entry about her birthday, the reminiscing over one of her notes, and the time I cheated on her with her best friend. At some point, she turned to me and asked, “Did you ever think we’d be here, on a couch in California, reading about this?” Hell no I didn’t, not in my wildest dreams. But… I’m glad it worked out that way, kinda cool.

Anyway, in the end she said the entries helped her remember what a dick I was. So, if nothing else, at least the blog serves the purpose of reminding people of my past-dickness. Which is good if I ever want to be inducted into the “Dick Hall of Fame” after my demise. I’ve heard written record of dickdom goes a long way as testimony in the judges eyes, so I figure I’m a lock.

Goodnight folks, love ya all.

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of music: 2006.5


Tuesday night as I write; a day ahead on blogging this week because the whole “clothes to charity” bit came so easily and quickly. Sharaun’s cleaning the guest bathroom for our next visitor, a friend of hers and mine both who was actually my 1st “real” girlfriend, my first real kiss, and certainly the first girl I ever “did stuff” with. Yeah, I pretty much tagged-up all the bases, but never quite made it home… it’s OK though – we were young. It’ll be nice for Sharaun to have a friend come visit, and they’re even planning on leaving me on daddy-duty for an overnighter into San Francisco and the wine country this coming weekend. Me, Mr. Mom alone with Keaton for the first time. I’m excited, but will surely miss being able to hand her off to her mom, who has some kind of stop-crying magic about her.

Been working on and off over the past few weeks on material for a new “thing” I’m debuting: I’m taking the yearly “best of” post and adding a mid-year checkpoint, a best of “so far” type thing. I think this will help me be more accurate with my year-end list, and besides – I love ranking and writing about music I like. I’ll do the posts in June, trying to stay around the mid-year mark, and format them identical to my year-end roundups. Since I know so many people are hanging on my every recommendation, and no one skips right over my music entries, I’m sure you’re waiting patiently to see what albums you’ll be rushing out and buying. I sometimes surprise myself with just how much effort I put into making these little lists: writing 50+ word blurbs about each album, making sure each has a hyperlink to more information, and formatting them all to be nicely indented and accompanied by a mini album cover. Anyway, without further ado – here is my best of 2006.5:

7. Sufjan Stevens – The Avalanche

I never thought of myself as one of the many Sufjan “fanboys” out there, but I must admit I do find myself admiring him more and more each time I hear a new song of his. Granted, there are several “weaker” numbers on this outing – particularly some of what the album’s press blurb refers to as “outlines, gesture drawings, … musical scribbles mumbled on a hand-held tape recorder.” A flute arpeggio with some dreamy flashback chimey stuff that runs for ~30sec is hardly a masterpiece, and I don’t think Sufjan is quite yet the class of musical enigma which warrants releasing his “What’s the New Mary Jane, takes 1-6” equivalent for posterity. Dang, that last sentence has so much literary and music-nerd potential… but I just can’t seem to execute it properly. If you fancy you can rewrite it better, comment me with your version, OK? Bottom line, there are some painfully gorgeous tunes on this album – and it would make the list for “The Henney Buggy Band” and the spruced-up “Adlai Stevenson” alone.


6. Tapes ‘N Tapes – The Loon

Yeah… so… everybody with broadband loved the Tapes ‘n Tapes in 2006, and I’m no exception. A very basic album, The Loon impresses a lot for being as stripped-down as it is. Some of this album reminds me of what I loved about Wolf Parade’s “Apologies to the Queen Mary” last year: nonsensical lyrics, shuffling washboard tempos, and a bounty of energy and snarl. I hear Pavement in there, even the Arcade Fire… and I guess that’s not entirely a bad thing, especially if you can pull of all those analogies and still be more than just the same-old hero-worship. So, number six it is.


5. Thome Yorke – The Eraser

The solo effort kept a secret until just before its planned release, Yorke’s Radioheadless foray into melodic-electronic took the music blogosphere by surprise. Then, it leaked over a month in advance, and the web collective had dissected and discussed the album to death before the law-abiding, CD-buying public ever even got to hear it for the first time. For me, I had to get it – couldn’t wait. I must say, I was leery from the moment I heard about the album. Could Thom’s genius shine as well without the group effort? In short: yes. Thom’s lyrical prowess and knack for eerie melody make a fine showing here; although I will admit the album is a little too ProTooled for me, and it drags a bit through the chewy center – it’s still a damn fine effort with some classic tunes. And for that, it falls in at number 5 on my list.


4. Phoenix – It`s Never Been Like That

Every summer deserves a summery album. Like a sweet, dripping ice-cream cone, “It’s Never Been Like That” plops perfect little circles of melted goodness all over your favorite Hawaiian shirt. Each track a self-sufficient pop gem, bouncy and singalong, with just enough rock sensibility and “rawness” to save it from being pure bubblegum indulgence. This album is 2006’s 95° summer-drive-with-the-windows down blarer; put it on and watch the sun move across the sky, maybe toss the frisbee with the hand not holding your beer while you wait for the meat to come off the grill. Oh, and chicks’ll dig the thing too… makes a great poolside swimsuit soundtrack.


3. The Islands – Return to the Sea

When I first heard the Unicorns album “Who Will Cut Our Hair When We’re Gone?,” I fell in love with it almost instantly. I was bummed, but not entirely surprised, when they announced their breakout shortly after the album’s internet buzz carried them to underground stardom. After all, I’d seen them on stage and they were young and insane with very distinct personalities – I could tell just watching them that they were a bubbling pool of varied talents… and sometimes that just doesn’t work out. But, when I heard that the two “creative” members of the group had formed a new band and released an album under the name The Islands, I was excited. Turns out, this album is only just shy of “Who Will Cut Our Hair…” awesome – and that’s pretty damn awesome. The songs are longer than what they did as the Unicorns, and a little more cohesive with less randomness. “Swans,” in particular, is a good example of why I consider this to be one of the best albums of half-2006.


2. Built to Spill – You In Reverse

I first heard of Built to Spill in my first year at “real” college. Back when CMJ was a funny-shaped little magazine that came monthly with a free CD and didn’t yet cover hip-hop or rap, they recommended BTS’s “Perfect From Now On” “if you liked Pavement’s ‘Wowee Zowee.'” I did indeed like Pavement’s “Wowee Zowee,” a whole heck of a lot. So I ran up to the CD Warehouse and picked up a copy. I liked three songs. Turns out, later on down the line that album would end up being one of my favorites – it just needed some time to grow on me. Now, BTS are back, and they sound outstanding. Write more here. (Yes that last sentence was a placeholder for more hyperbole, but when I eventually came back to it I thought it had comedic value all by itself, so this review is over.)


1. Wolfmother – Wolfmother

This album is so badass… it’s like a flying brick of solid rock and roll, aimed straight at your pearly whites – ready to smash them out in a fit of guitar-induced hysterical rage. You can’t help pump your hand in a clenched-fist salute to these driving basslines, neck and head at the ready to snap into hair-tossing action upon the tidal wave of guitars. It’s Sabbath reborn, it’s a Deep Purple-esque Hammond B-3 churning out macabre-sounding minor key hooks over a deafening crunch of guitar and high-pitch male vocals. Put this album on and try not to punch things, I dare you. This album will actually make your cock thicker. So filled with awesome you’ll choke on your own enthusiastic screams of “Yeah motherfucker!!” as the solo rages during “Pyramid.” People… this album… it has a flute solo… c’mon!!


Well, that’s it for tonight… no small effort mind you, but I’m sure not as worth the trouble as I might think.

Goodnight.

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hot is your excuse for everything


Tuesday’s gone (with the wind). Had my two-week Lasik appointment today: my vision is still 20/15 and my eyes are supposedly “healing nicely.” They feel a lot better, with some occasional dryness and irritation – but I’ve still got minimal problems at night with halos and glare (although it’s already markedly better than it was last week). My new eyes are great, and I love them.

The other day we got one of those “put your old clothes in a bag on the curb for charity” fliers stuffed in our doorjamb. When those fliers come, Sharaun always decides to “go through” my closet and give away my clothes. I don’t know why God chose to give women this instinct, this notion that they have an idea what clothes men should and shouldn’t keep. What worse is, they always seem to target the items I love dearly. Shirts she deems “dingy” and “old-man looking” are the shirts that fit me best, don’t bind on the shoulders, have plenty of “skirt” to make for strong tucking, and have no pokies or scratchies to speak of. So here we are, me sitting on the couch in the living room while she brings out handfuls of clothes-laden hangers to parade by me, not really asking as much as telling me what I do and don’t wear.

“You never wear this one,” she says, hoisting a blue t-shirt into the air for my inspection. “I wear that all the time,” I say, “Just look at the paint stains on the front, that’s a good painting shirt.”

“You got this in college!,” she proclaims, as if clothes bought in college are things of evil. “So what,” I say, “It’s still a good shirt, fits me fine, and I like it.”

“Why are those jeans in the donate pile?,” I demand, “Those are the only jeans that truly fit me well all over.” “They’re so old, you have all these other jeans that look so much better.” “But I hate those other jeans,” I protest, “The legs are all fat and bell-bottomy… I hate that.” She rebuts, “It’s not called ‘bell-bottom,’ it’s called ‘flared leg’ and it’s the only kind of jeans that are stylish.” “Well I don’t want to be stylish then,” I say, “I like the legs of my jeans to fit around my ankles, not swing back and forth as I walk.” She fires back, “You know you’re talking about ‘tapered leg,’ right? No one wears tapered leg jeans anymore, not even cowboys.” “So what,” I say, “I want to wear them. I’ll single-handedly bring them back into style.” At this point she’s getting angry.

“Here are a pair of jeans with the tags still on them, you probably never even tried them on,” she begins, turning a brand new pair of denim over for inspection. “I did try them on,” I challenge, “Remember, at Christmas? They were all twisty in the hips, I asked you to return them.” “No, you’re thinking of another pair – you never even touched these,” she maintains. Apparently, I am not capable of being able to recognize my own clothes, as all my assertions about certain items are challenged on the basis that I’m “thinking of a different one” or am just plain wrong. Now my answers are beginning to reflect my frustration.

“What about these,” she asks as she puts yet another pair of jeans forward. “Those are too big,” I reply curtly. “What do you mean by ‘too big?,'” she asks. “What do I mean by… well… the size of my lower body is proportionally smaller than the amount of fabric that Levis decided to use when manufacturing those particular pants. Therefore, there is more actual jean than there is me.” She stops me before I can go into a brief discourse on relative volumes and capacities, holding her hand in the air as a silent “stop,” signalling that my humorous approach has come across as intended and she understands.

Eventually, because I am so incapable of recognizing and identifying which of my own clothes fit and which don’t, the whole exercise turns into a 11pm “try this on so I can see” marathon. I hate trying things on, loathe it – and she knows this. I don’t want to try things on right now, I’m hot, and I don’t want to robe and disrobe over and over to prove to you what I know is true. It’s true, you know, I’m a naturally hot human being – maintaining a core temperature that I’m convinced is several degrees higher than most everyone else. This rationale, however, is not flying.

“Hot is your excuse for everything,” she says. “You’re too hot to try on clothes; too hot to hold the baby; too hot for everything.” While this is true, I am often “too hot” to do things comfortably, in the middle of this moment of shared frustration hearing her say it comes off as the funniest thing to me. “Hot is your excuse for everything” sounds freaking hilarious to me, and start cracking up. “Hot is my excuse for everything,” I chuckle.

Luckily, the whole thing degenerated into sweet, sweet lovin’ on a pile of soon-to-be-donated clothing items (sorry beggars, but hey, can you really afford to be choosers?). Nah… I made the sex part up; but we did end on a happy note and a respectable three bags of clothes for the less-fortunate.

Goodnight.

PS – I added some friends’ pictures to the gallery for this weekend’s camping trip, check ’em out at the beginning of the original set, or get them sorted by date via this link.

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don’t blog for no suits


Another Monday done gone, workin’ for the man.

If you’ve been reading me for a while, you know that I talk a lot about my work without really talking about where I work or what exactly I do. That’s not gonna change, but I did want to talk about a fairly recent development at “my work” that has caused me to think. At “my work,” the corporate intranet this year added a dedicated space for employee blogging. Much like wordpress.com offers subsites that come preinstalled with the WordPress blogging backend – our corporate blogging area has it’s own custom backend and offers a working blog to any employee who wants to write. Everyone at “my work” can read these company-sanctioned blogs, and from what I can tell – there are no boundaries on content other than the standard stuff like no porn, etc. Meaning, these company-resource-supported blogs don’t force employee bloggers to write about company stuff. In fact, upon browsing many of the employee blogs I’ve noticed the posts are often just as banal and random as my own.

This is where I get to thinking. These blogs are hardly anonymous. Not only do they contain the employee blogger’s name, but the time and date of the posting. Every comment is also timestamped and tagged with the commenter’s name. I browsed these blogs a bit today and found ruminations on clogged gym shower drains, commentary on articles seen on Fark and BoingBoing, and all other sorts of non-workish type content. Not only that, there were employee comments on the stories, and comments and stories alike contained links to non-corporate-intranet URLs. This corporate blogging thing is definitely not for me. Not just because a lot of my content is “gauche” at best, but moreso because I’d worry these employee blogs could be used as accurate records of company time wasted. Why tell everyone you work with that, at 3:23pm on Monday, you were typing about the nice sunny weather rather than whatever the hell you’re actually being paid to do at 3:23pm on Mondays.

I’ll stick to my external blog, thank you. With full knowledge that it’s out there on the internets for anyone to read – but also a guarded tongue at work as far as publicizing it goes. I don’t need the man breathin’ down my neck trying force some “rules” on my blogging. I don’t blog for no suits…

Folks, I have to say I was worried. About what? Why, about this new Thom Yorke album. Yes, I was worried. When I downloaded it, and had run through it once on the iPod, I was worried that I’d be underwhelmed with it. My first impression what that it started and ended strong, but got all blurry and drug-out through the middle bits. Alas, a couple more casual listens didn’t do much to change that initial impression. Then, I got some focused one-on-one headphone time with the album, and things began to get clearer. Swirly keyboards and understated beats, Thom’s sing-song phrasing full of unexpected changes in timing and key… yeah this thing is good. I still think it’s strongest while opening and closing, but now the middle seems more supportive than weighing. It is worth mentioning though, that, in my opinion, this isn’t as good as what these tunes could’ve been would they have been collaborated on by Jonny, Phil, Ed, and Colin.

Anyway – I’m glad it leaked, and boy did it – nearly two months in advance. Following in the tradition of the last Radiohead albums, all of which have leaked considerably prior to street. XL, the label the album will be officially released on, had some interesting things to say about the leak at a recent Eraser listening party:

Given the nature of Radiohead’s audience, and the history of their albums leaking, it has generally happened a lot earlier. Any label at this point expects that an album is going to get leaked. It definitely happened earlier than we had anticipated. I think it [the listening party] would have had a lot more punch if it was truly the first time that anyone had listened to it, but my assumption is most people in the room last night had already heard the record.

Leaks are just a given now, I suppose. I’m not sure there’s a way anymore to not have an album leak prior to street. You can restrict access to the studio during mastering, but things will still have a tendency to fall into the janitors pocket; you can watch the mastering plant where you cut the discs, even the assembly line where you package them; you can even embed digital “fingerprints” into advance listening copies sent to journalists and media outlets – but nothing is gonna stop that thing from making it onto the ‘net before you can buy it in stores. I’d wager that, if there’s any amount of pre-sale interest in an album, that there’s close to a 100% chance a release group will beat the street.

In the midst of an abysmal “funk” at work, I begrudgingly do my work each day, suspended in some perpetual state of limbo while my project gasps and sputters the longest death rattle in recorded history. But, work is work. Lumbering, wounded project or healthy, shiny-new project… it’s what I do for a paycheck. I keep telling myself to just shut up and get done what needs to get done. That kind of tough-love motivation does work, but it doesn’t come close to replacing genuine enthusiasm.

Goodnight my friends.

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elephant’s memory


Hooray for Monday… Back from a weekend of camping with friends and family. My brother’s time in town ends today as he heads north to see my folks for a while, was good having him here and I’m glad he got to meet Keaton. We took camping-with-baby to the next level this weekend by pulling off a two-day trip. Keaton took to it fine, but then she is an infant and is relatively easygoing regardless of her surroundings. I was happy, however, that we were still able to enjoy some commune with nature and campfire and tent – despite now being laden with child. For those of you who like pictures, I’ve added two new galleries to the media page: check out the camping trip here, then wash those down with my week twelve update to Keaton’s gallery.

The other night I had the strangest dream. It was now, and by that I mean Sharaun and I were married and had a little baby girl named Keaton who we fawned over incessantly. In the dream, I was going through my normal daily motions: holding the baby, changing the baby, staring at the baby, talking about the baby… y’know, all things baby. Then, out of the blue, I had a realization: Sharaun and I had another child, prior to Keaton, a little boy – and we’d forgotten all about him. I rushed back to the bedroom and there he was, sitting there all alone, unloved and forgotten. My heart broke as I instantly remembered loving that boy as much as I had been loving Keaton just minutes ago, I remembered Sharaun and I showering him with attention and staring at him, transfixed by his every expression. But we’d forgotten all about him, I hadn’t even remembered we had him – and I felt awful. What a dream, eh? Wonder what the heck that means…

Goodnight friends, the pictures will make up for the rest.

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or write poetry


Thursday night mofos! Tomorrow I’m attempting to head out of work a bit early to head for the hills and begin our two-day camping trip. Keaton’s 1st multiple-day outdoor experience, I’m pumped. Sitting here watching the TiVo’d finale of the National Spelling Bee, which I’ve been hooked on ever since the year I caught the possessed Rebecca Sealfon on take the crown on ESPN. Now it’s moved to prime-time on ABC and it’s all glitz and glamour, and I love it to death.

Things are work right now are so “maybe, maybe not” that I find my strictly logical mind floundering amidst all the ambiguity. I’m OK at making contingency plans, any good engineer knows that’s key – but making a multi-headed hydra of contingencies and outcomes, each relying on each other to form some twisted, writhing, tangled knot of possibilities is something I don’t enjoy doing. When each action relies on three other actions which all may or may not happen, each with their own “likelihood probability”, my brain immediately tells me, “This is stupid! Something bigger is wrong here if you have to ‘plan’ like this! Stop now and go back to stone-one, figure out where the grand eff-up was and fix it.” Thing is, I think my brain is right. If your “plans” start to sound like the horoscopes in a women’s magazine, where you can interpret them however you want and they say nothing of substance, you’ve got more fundamental problems than just too many variables. In that case the basis of your plans, or your planners, or maybe even your motivations and goals are faulty.

The 411 on your project today…
Embrace the program you’re working on, honesty sparks even more happiness. You’ll have to guard against saying too much today, especially if you get into a conflict with a friend, your guy, or someone you have to work with one-on-one. Avoid the urge to be like Donald Trump. Swallow any tendencies toward pomposity or ambition. Instead, sit around eating ice cream and talking to your friends, invent a new project – or write poetry. This program is full of turbo-charged energy and sweetness, so just ignore any trash-talk you may hear in homeroom. Relax! Remain open to the possibility that a combination of self-sufficiency and outside assistance could work for you.

It’s been far too long since I reviewed some of the better search engine phrases that’ve led folks to this blog. Let’s check some out and try to respond to them where appropriate, shall we?

  • how to keep a mantis prawn as pet
    Easy: Don’t.

  • rebel flag bathing suits
    … look great at Klan rallies?

  • nobody like stevie ray vaughn
    I disagree.

  • origin of the phrase “dry hump”
    Actually, I invented it. It, and all kinds of humping.

  • home remedies for singed hair
    “Remedies?”

  • I think my girlfriend is scamming me
    And the internet is definitely the right place to confirm it.

  • i deserve a beer
    Yes; yes I do.

  • i hate itunes
    Yes; yes I do.

  • forgot moms birthday
    Shamefully, so have I.

Before I go, chew on this: I took the 4,000 spams screenshot on yesterday’s blog at 8:30am on May 31st (according to the file creation time). At that time Akismet had trapped 35,471 comment spams during the time it’d been installed on my blog. Tonight, at 9:12pm on June 1st, a mere ~36hrs later, Akismet has blocked a total of 42,373 comment spams. That means that over span of not even two days, my site was hit with 7,000 spams. At this pace, it’s looking like the 5,000 spams a day record might be less of a “high water mark” and more of the new normal. Praise to Akismet for blocking all but one or two pieces which I’ve had to manually filter.

Goodnight and good-weekend to you, biatches.

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thom yorke in a cave


Good evening from Wednesday night, which was a slightly more productive than the bust that was my Tuesday night. I did manage to get my hair cut, which was one of the things that’s been nagging me – but I missed mowing the lawn again… tomorrow, I guess. Work today was an 8hr exercise in futility: lots of math, thinking, crystal-ball-peering, planning and plotting… all with not nearly enough satisfaction at the end of it all. I keep hoping the direction will return to what I’m doing, and know I’m partially responsible for feeling without it. I can do my part to operate under whatever pieces of direction I can assemble, but I know I won’t feel 100% “purposed” again until I get some better clarity from above. I suppose this is all a learning experience, a primer in big-business red-tape… but I still have little tolerance for aimlessness. Enough with this.

The premise of this article fascinates me: that there are still areas on this planet which may remain relatively untouched by human development. It gets me thinking about how many other sealed-off isolated little ecosystems are out there. Little tiny worlds that exist only unto themselves, knowing nothing about anything else outside their walls. What if our whole galaxy is just some little sealed-up pocket of space in someone else’s world, waiting for some sanitation workers there to break through into our sheltered existence while drilling for a new sewer system? Yeah, I like thinking about things like that.

Well, it was only Tuesday I wrote about the eventual leak of Thom Yorke’s solo album as The Eraser (which happens to have one of the best album covers I’ve seen in a long while), and wouldn’t you know it I “happened” upon it while webbing around tonight. Needless to say I was ecstatic, and could hardly wait for the electric pulses coming down the coax to be converted into music. It took some ingenuity to find the dang thing, since it hadn’t really hit the “mainstream” filesharing sites yet (and I’m not exactly sure I’m still young enough to know where the “mainstream” filesharing sites are anymore anyway). Turns out it “officially” leaked sometime on Tuesday, maybe even Monday night – so I am indeed a few days off “fresh” when it comes to illegal album leaks. I’m still listening now, but I’m pretty much bound by my abounding enthusiasm to like this album – either that or eat my words. It’s crazy that an album can make me this happy.

Oh, and I dunno if you guys noticed – but I got like 4,000 spam comments overnight, check out the proof:

That’s a lot of spam in a short amount of time… it was just a couple days ago I was talking about hitting 30,000, and here I am about to break 40,000… I am so popular; with spammers; yay.

Goodnight.