My iPod currently has 547 songs on it, but right now it only needs one.

I might have been a bit overly critical of Springsteen's latest the other day. It's not that I have changed my mind. "Radio Nowhere" really is a pretty basic tune as compared with his more far-reaching works. But here's the thing. It's the most catchy damned thing I've heard in a long while. If I had to pick an earlier album that it would most likely belong to, I'd say it most reminds me of what I heard on his Lucky Town / Human Touch releases from 1992.

The song is produced fast and gritty. There's no flash -- just dash. Sing that verse. Hurry up with that chorus. Sax, stat! Another verse. That's a wrap! It comes in at just 3:22, but feels like half of that duration. I've probably devoted over 90 minutes to listening to "Radio Nowhere" over the past few days. There's no such thing as silence for me right now. Even when the iPod is turned off, the song just plays over and over in my head. It's a good thing I like it as it doesn't seem to be leaving me anytime soon.

On September 4, Amazon.com will play the video for free. It's shot in NYC and features the E Street Band. Marking my calendar...

Here Comes Another Season Of My Wife Cussing At The TV

My wife is a Georgia Bulldog fan. She's a sweet and shy kindergarten teacher, but you wouldn't know it to watch her watch college football. Evidence of her passion for her Bulldogs can be found in posts and comments between she and local blogger, Big Orange Michael. I'm a fan of the game as well and loyally follow my Vanderbilt Commodores, but I'm pretty laid back about wins and losses. Regarding Paige, I've found it best to give her some space and keep my mouth shut when it comes to Georgia football games.

The good news is that we can all sit safely on the sidelines and watch she and Big Orange Michael talk their smack (for starters: here, and here) about their teams. This could make for some fun entertainment.

(My apologies to Big Orange Michael for the picture. But I do have to live with her.)

Tylenol PM commercial being shot at the Chelsea

There would be no reference to the Chelsea. Which is actually probably a good thing since what would a real Chelsea Tylenol PM commercial look like? Would they cast an actress and show her washing down the pills with whiskey? Tylenol PM: less painful than throwing yourself down the stairwell. -- Ed Hamilton

"I do it myself!"

As mentioned time and time again, my daughter is the most independent thing I've ever encountered. There is nothing you can do for her that she wouldn't rather do herself.

This morning when getting ready for school, her mom asked her to get her shoes on. Her normally thorn-in-her-side brother displayed a rare act of kindness and retrieved them from the other side of the room for her. Well, he may as well have poured her Cheerios on the floor from her reaction to this. "I get my shoes!," she said to him before letting the tears fall and the anger fly. Now I got to remind and reassure Joshua that what he did was nice and calm Ari down and get her to thank her brother all while watching the clock as their mom and I tried to keep the morning routine on schedule.

She's two-years-old and the apple of my eye, and I see turbulent times ahead. I also see a wonderfully self-reliant young woman in the making, but the road ahead looks to be terribly stubborn with very few caution signs along the way. This stubborn independence of hers (that I really do admire) is going to confuse a lot of well-meaning friends and samaritans.

Fast forward to an imagined wedding day: My wife and I are watching her on this most beautiful of days in our much loved daughter's life. She's standing tall and looking into the eyes of the luckiest of young men. She loves him with all of her heart and he's on top of the world as he's about to marry the girl of his dreams. But then he makes that mistake that I saw coming in a vision so many years before. He takes the ring and places it onto her finger. She draws back and gives him a look. "I do it myself!," she reprimands as she slides it off and then puts it right back on with a twist.

The ceremony continues as I nudge my wife gently. "I told you," I whisper.

He just wants to hear some rhythm.

I've got goosebumps. Springsteen's new song, "Radio Nowhere," is available as a free download today at iTunes. I've listened to it and it's pretty good. It's a bit of a rocker and its mid-tempo drive feels like it's fighting like hell to go even faster. It presses and presses as its singer seeks and wants for proof that he's not alone in his yearning.

One thing: Three seconds in and you wonder if he's about to cover Tommy Tutone's "867-5309/Jenny." Someone else heard Warren Zevon's "Splendid Isolation" in the melody. She's dead on. I hear it, too.

There is nothing really awesome about this song in and of itself; it's a very simple tune with lyrics that impress on first listen but aren't really especially profound. That said, it's a good song and it's always good to get a taste of new Springsteen material. The whole thing drops October 2.

Bruce Springsteen - Magic

1. Radio Nowhere
2. You'll Be Comin' Down
3. Livin' In The Future
4. Your Own Worst Enemy
5. Gypsy Biker
6. Girls In Their Summer Clothes
7. I'll Work For Your Love
8. Magic
9. Last To Die
10. Long Walk Home
11. Devil's Arcade
    

I read blogs because sometimes people write beautiful things like this:

Jag writes:

Luckily for me, East Nashville is perfect for aimless driving, down one street and back up the next, a park on one end and civilization on the other. With the windows down and the volume up, I found a good playlist on the mp3 player, pulled off Ellington, made it over Gallatin Road without incident and turned onto Ordway. ...all of it >>

"The show is the least important part of the day," reassured the aritist's manager.

Shawn Colvin was at the end of her rope several years back while touring in promotion of a recent album. Concerts each night, radio interviews and other promotional activities each morning and afternoon, and a bit of sleep between tour stops, she called her manager desperately confiding to him that due to exhaustion, she didn't think she could play that night's show. That was his reply, and she couldn't disagree with him more.

In other news, hip-hop artists love the promotion they get by being on DJ's mixtapes. It's invaluable. Too bad.

You know I'm a Titans fan.

Seen today on NFL.com:

This Date in NFL History
August 26, 1999 — Adelphia Coliseum opened in
Nashville, Tennessee before a crowd of 65,729 with the Tennessee Titans
defeating the Atlanta Falcons 17-3 in a preseason game.

Eight years ago tonight, I was there. Given two tickets in the club seats by a local restauranteur, I saw that first Titans game at Adelphia Coliseum with my good friend, Vince. I'd seen this team before. Once in 1997, Paige and I drove to Memphis to see the then Tennessee Oilers beat the Buffalo Bills with ease and then in 1998, I saw them play four times at Vanderbilt.

This '99 season, however, would be my greatest as an NFL fan. Between bought tickets and gifted tickets, I was at every home game that year. For the last few games, I was lucky enough to be an assistant to the NFL Films cameramen. Not much more than a gopher, I was ecstatic at the opportunity to work the sidelines, running up and down the length of the field, not seeing much of the action --I dare you to say down in front when "in front" is Tony Boselli -- but still feeling like a contest winner knowing how enviable my job was.

For that famous Music City Miracle win over Buffalo, I was behind the Titans' bench when all seemed lost and then I was behind the Bills' bench when "Homerun Throwback" was executed so beautifully. Mind you, I didn't see the play; I was busy looking at an LED display on the camera ensuring its user didn't run out of film. Suddenly, the noise from the crowd overcame my concentration. I tried to get a glimpse at what was going on but darn if my 6'2" frame didn't do a thing to help me from behind a wall of NFL players. I figured it out soon enough as my boss for the last three hours turned to me, shouted "Stay with me," and bolted across the field to get film of the Tennessee ("No flags on the field!") Titans celebrating their almost certain historic first playoff win in Nashville's Adelphia Coliseum.

The '99 NFL Season will always be the best one ever for me. I've caught a game here and there since and I've politely declined other opportunities to help the NFL Films guys. I've had my moment of glory on the sidelines; now I'm happy to watch it on TV with the perfect views and replays and the beer in my fridge which is always bought at a very reasonable price. A lot has happened to our hometown team since that inaugural season. We've had some good years, some woeful years, and some that started out woeful and ended with a lot to be proud of. It's now LP Field, not Adelphia Coliseum. It's Young, not McNair. But it's still Coach Fisher and Craig Hentrich and his famed knuckleball punts.

Here's to August 26, 1999 and to another miraculous season before us. Go Titans!

More highlights from titansonline.com:

September 12 - Al Del Greco kicks a 33-yard field goal to lift the Titans to a 36-35 win over Cincinnati in the first regular season game and victory at Adelphia Coliseum. The win, in front of 65,272 fans, is the team's first as the Titans, and quarterback Steve McNair passes for a career-high 341 yards in the victory.

September 26 - The team wins its first road contest as the Titans, a 20-19 victory at Jacksonville sealed by a Samari Rolle interception in the end zone with under a minute remaining.

October 31 - Steve McNair returns after missing five games because of a back injury to lead the Titans to defeat the previously-unbeaten St. Louis Rams, 24-21 at Adelphia Coliseum. McNair is named Miller Lite NFL Player of the Week for his performance in the victory.

December 19 - Tennessee clinches the franchise's first playoff berth since 1993 with a 30-17 win over Atlanta at Adelphia Coliseum.

December 26 - Tennessee defeats Jacksonville for the fourth consecutive time, a 41-14 victory in which Steve McNair throws five touchdown passes. McNair earns his first AFC Offensive Player of the Week and his second Miller Lite NFL Player of the Week honor this season for his efforts. The win completes the first unbeaten home regular season in club history.

January 8 – In a play known as the "Music City Miracle," Kevin Dyson returns a Frank Wycheck lateral on a kickoff return 75 yards for a touchdown, lifting the Titans to a 22-16 victory in the AFC Wild Card playoff game over the Buffalo Bills. The improbable play, which occurred with just 16 seconds remaining in the game, gives the franchise its first playoff win in Tennessee in addition to its first since 1993.

January 16 – Eddie George rushes for 162 yards, including a 68-yard touchdown run, as the Titans defeat the Indianapolis Colts, 19-16, in an AFC Divisional Playoff game at the RCA Dome.

January 23 – The Titans beat Jacksonville for the third time of the season and fifth consecutive time, using 23 second-half points en route to a 33-14 win at Alltel Stadium in Jacksonville. Steve McNair runs for two touchdowns and Derrick Mason returns a kickoff 80 yards in the win. The win sends Tennessee to its first Super Bowl in franchise history and its first AFC/AFL Championship since 1961.

January 30 – The Titans fall short in their quest to win Super Bowl XXXIV, as Kevin Dyson is stopped one yard short of the end zone on the final play of the game in a 23-16 St. Louis Rams victory.

Vagabond Heart of Saturday Night

In 1990, Rod Stewart covered Tom Waits' "Downtown Train." I didn't much care for his version, but it was quite popular and sold very well. I think it's time Tom Waits returned the favor and covered a Rod Stewart song. "Infatuation," maybe?

Keeping tabs.

Because I'm the kind of guy who will keep lists of all kinds of things about his life, I know that since 1990 I've had five jobs, six serious relationships and fourteen different places of residence. To jobs and girls, I can commit. Just don't go knocking on my door without calling first. I might not be there anymore.

Don't call them elderly.

Two Women Fight Off Would-Be Robber

The Kids Are Alright

Your Yellow Door Welcomes You

Be careful though. No one ever made it in who tried too hard.

Ghost Ballet

I didn't like it until I saw it like this.

What's a setback?

Back to it. The trip to Dallas was a bust after all. It was a great accomplishment to have been invited to training in the first place. Southwest Airlines receives on average 10,000 applications a month and I was one of seventy-three to have made it though the process of being picked for an initial Group Information Session, two one-on-one interviews, and finally, an invitation to training in Dallas. I put on my best suit, the smile and the positive attitude that have always been a part of my long career in customer service, but I was just too far behind the curve on several pages of information I was to have memorized on arrival. I studied, but I also worked, watched my kids, and slept. I should have studied more. I should have recruited my wife to help me study, but we hardly see each other as it is. It's a busy life and it was just too much. Overwhelmed. Daunted. In over my head. And so, I returned home.

Not quite feeling the failure considering how much I accomplished to have made it as far as I did, but I still fell short of the goal. Like an NFL team with a slow start to the season but a string of heart-stopping victories to make the playoffs, only to fall short one game shy of the Super Bowl, that's how I felt flying home Monday night. There's measurable pride in this setback. As Coach Fisher told his Titans after their Super Bowl loss to close out the '99 NFL season, "A setback is a setup for a comeback."

We'll see. Back to it.

Kerouac

On the Road: The Original Scroll

So many forms, so much to memorize.

We Take A Break From Our Break...

I'm lost in a sea of public announcements that I have to memorize for the new gig.

While studying, I hear my four-year-old describe a sport that he wants to play when he gets bigger to his mom:

"I don't know the name of it but you skate on the ice with roller skates. You have a hitting thing and you hit the black stone."

I love that kid. Now, back to the books...

He just went all Rex L. Camino and disappeared.

"Have you ever seen Dallas from a DC-9 at night?" - Joe Ely

I'll be back in a few weeks. This paterfamilias (no offense to the matriarch who really runs things around here) is pursuing an occupation of - literally - higher placement and a good bit mo' money.

Wish me luck. Off to training...

I just wish we were better prepared financially for my extended absence. Things'll be tight around these parts while I'm gone. Ugh.

This one's for the Nashville bloggers

While I'm parking cars for free on my last day at the hotel, local bloggers are talking and laughing at Blackstone Brewery & Pub. Oh, the envy in me! I bet they had the Nut Brown Ale, too.

For the low cost - free - of one click (blog pic on the left, profile pic on the right), you'll see two extraordinarily talented and way beautiful people who were probably imbibing and most certainly talking, laughing, and having an overall good time at tonight's humble little get-together.

I see from Music City Bloggers that I missed out on hanging with quite the gathering of my personal heroes. The list includes, but is not limited to, the following:

• Bad Bad Ivy - I feel some kind of cool connection with her. We're both parents and we're both broker than we deserve, but somehow we're gonna make it.
  
• Kate O - The first time I saw her, she was riding by on a bicycle downtown. I had my camera with me and took her picture as she sped off up 1st Ave. North. What am I? Paparazzi? Anyway, she didn't seem to mind because she kindly invited me to her Porch Party recently. I've never known a cuter, more gracious host. She's as kind as she is beautiful.
• Tiny Cat Pants - I want her smarts. I want her talent. I want to find out that I have a play in me and watch it performed by talented actors. I want my blog to be as interesting and funny as hers. Tiny Dog Pants, maybe? Maybe?
  
• presto change-o! - From Tiny Cat Pants to Lotsa Cat Pics, the mighty Jeffraham is a blogger I have yet to meet. If it's true that when you take someone's picture, you take a bit of their soul, I'd hazard to guess that there are some pretty soulless kitties in his abode.
  
• GingerSnaps - I'm proud to know her. The work she does is the work of good people. I hope to hang out with her more often when I have the time. Oh, and I once made the mistake of suggesting she make a turn she didn't want to make when I was a passenger in her car. I won't make that mistake again. ;)
• Klinde - Proving that all bloggers are not the shy and introverted types, she describes herself as a rambler. Well, there are good ramblers and there are bad ramblers. She's one of the good ones. I love listening to her talk.
• Newscoma - She loves Tom Waits. And thus, I love her. If I've seen a warmer, more friendly smile recently, I don't know when. The first time I ever saw her, before either of us knew who the other was, she smiled and waved at me from her truck. If she ever needs anything that I can help her with, it's hers. Just like that.
• Grace - Ever be hanging out with a bunch of people you know and you're having a relaxed time drinking and talking about whatever, and then someone shows up who is just so pretty that you forget how to talk? That's all I'm sayin' about that. Anyway, I always look forward to what she writes. The more she writes about looking for love and the dating scene in my town, the more I love that I am married and don't have to deal with any of that madness anymore. I'm rooting for her, from way over here in calm, cool domesticity.
  

One thought as I look at the above links. I know it's not a complete list of those who came out to play, but still. One dude? One very lucky dude? Jeffraham and all of those cool, lovers-of-words women? If I was there, I'd just be known as "stupid smile guy."

A little research on my part and I just found out that John "My Hero" Hutcheson was also at Blackstone tonight. A little known fact about me that only John might care about? I share a birthday with Keith Richards.

Rock on, Nashville bloggers. I'm glad to know ya.

(This post was written without the benefit of fact-checking or proof-reading and it probably shows. I'm cool with that.)

Stephen Hunter on "The Invasion"

I can't afford to go to the movies anymore. But that's OK. Reading reviews from Pulitzer-prize winning writer Stephen Hunter is just as much fun.

On "The Invasion," starring Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig:

"...and the ending arrives as if dropped from a passing truck. And while I appreciated the early sight of Ms. Nicole Kidman in a transparent nightie-thingy, I fear I missed the next 20 minutes owing to a rather intense fantasy in which the two of us -- well, you get it."

They better be learning French and earning a degree in that daycare.

I'm studying while listening to a parenting podcast (Manic Mommies) in the background. What did I hear that made me gasp? One of the hosts mentioned that a friend of hers has two kids in daycare and pays $740 a week for said daycare. Two kids. And only four days a week.

Just thought I'd share that.

Lesson #1: Never Trust A Man

I forget what we were talking about, but I do remember carrying her in my arms to the kitchen on the way to make lunch when I said, "Daddy will always keep you safe."

I then gently sat her upon the kitchen counter, opened the cabinet door, and accidentally smacked the side of her head with it. Oops.

I totally deserved the look she gave me.

Big love to their big love.

Thirty years of marriage? They should teach a class. Happy anniversary to two of the best.

Tom Waits' "2:19" on So You Think You Can Dance

Anyone watch Hotel Babylon?

Crazy hotel worker that I am, I'm a bit intrigued about this article about the new fictional drama, Hotel Babylon.

"Imagine yourself living in a world where everything works, everything shines, everything is where it should be," says Charlie (Max Beesley), the narrator-star of the series Hotel Babylon, newly imported by BBC America. "Well, you can — you've just got to move into a hotel."

How about the more true to live docu-series Welcome to the Parker on Bravo?

iCram

I've got a whole heap of studying to do. Lots of stuff to memorize and be ready for. Plan A was to speak the public announcements into a mic and then download them onto my iPod to listen to over and over again. I can't figure out how to make that happen, so I will simply record to my phone and listen to them that way. Not as fun as using earbuds, but it'll work just as well.

Airport codes, public announcements, and so much more must be known by this time next week. Note to brain: You can stop remembering things like my home phone number in 1983. We no longer need that and it's only getting in the way. My fourth girlfriend's middle name? We don't even need her first name anymore.

Wish me luck in my studies to a dream job and a better future. Now if I could only remember where I put my phone...

Coldplay karaoke crooner coldcocked*

*OK, maybe not actually coldcocked, just pushed, but I'm a sucker for alliteration.

A man was out with friends in a Seattle area bar Thursday night and decided to take the stage for a karaoke performance of Coldplay's "Yellow." Only three words in, an obnoxious woman expressed her distaste for both the song and his singing and attacked the singer. It took three people to escort her outside and she was finally taken away in handcuffs after hitting the bartender twice and head-butting an off-duty police officer.

Bar records indicate that she only had one shot of Jagermeister. That's all it takes, I suppose. I've sworn off the stuff after my own long ago Jager-fueled night of embarrassing activities. The arrested Coldplay-hater was interviewed the following day and had little more than this to say: "I remember watching people sing karaoke. And then the cops kicked my ass."

That's ABQ for us industry people...Albuquerque to you.*

Mere minutes after I published my Mother Love Bone post, I got a nice comment from a very cool sounding blogger from Albuquerque, New Mexico.

So far, after perusing her blog a bit, I have learned the following:

• She loves Tom Waits.
• Her favorite Bukowski book was the first one I ever bought. Women.
• Her man has a scooter. (I want a scooter.)

Adding her to the blogroll and Reader now. She had me at "loves Tom Waits."

*I train for my new job next week. For that job, I have to memorize the airport codes of every city the company flies to.

Ride across the dam. Listen to that piano as I drive.

A band I hadn't thought about in over ten years took me back tonight. With the iPod on shuffle and a 90s compilation CD in the iPod, I was treated on a peaceful and quiet drive home to Mother Love Bone's exquisitly sad and moving "Chloe Dancer/Crown of Thorns." Mother Love Bone was right there at the beginning of that whole Seattle grunge thing. Just before their first big major label release, singer Andrew Wood died of a heroin overdose. The band was right there, ready to be what everyone was about to be crazy for. But..."the needle and the damage done."

Wood's former roommate, Soundgarden's Chris Cornell, asked the surviving members of Mother Love Bone to record a few songs on a project that would later become a full Temple of the Dog album. Members Stone Gossard and Jeff Ament would join with Eddie Vedder and become a part of the hugely successful and artistically strong Pearl Jam.

I knew of Mother Love Bone way back when not from radio play or MTV, but by the three coolest music lovers I ever had the pleasure of working with. Tina, Elena and Melissa of the old Turtle's Records on Nolensville Road were always finding the greatest alternative music months before anyone else knew anything about them. They'd come to work talking about some new band and you just learned to make a mental note to order ten of fifteen of that band's newest release for the day that we'd start getting people coming in looking for it. I miss my record store friends.

Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Temple of the Dog, all connected to Mother Love Bone. Seattle.

Hotel Chelsea

On The Cover Of...

Anyone have this issue?

Shape of the World

I'm sailing down to Panama
Gonna run across the isthmus
I had a heart for art's sake
But no stomach for the business

If I had a head for figures
I would be another guy
Instead of chopping up these onions
and trying not to cry

I could say I never sold out
But that's a slogan of the poor
Of course you learn the hard way
Or you never know for sure

- from "Shape of the World" by John Gorka

I am the river...

"Ooh, I sat on meself."

Fans of BBC's Black Books, you will understand my happiness.

"Your request for Black books. The complete 1st series [videorecording] was successful. Hermitage Branch"

The Moon demands a little reflection tonight.

I drove home tonight with the sunroof open. Challenges under the hood keep me from turning on the A/C and challenges in my head prevent me from knowing how to be a better parent. Two sons had bad days and I feel absent in their lives. Anyone want to pay me $500 a week to always be there for everyone who calls me either husband or dad?

Let's lighten the mood a bit and talk about a doomed relationship, shall we? In 1995, I was dating Psycho-Beauty. ("Psycho-Beauty" isn't really a fair name for her, but half the fun of breaking up with a person is being able to forever give them a nickname like "Psycho-Beauty.") This was the most passionate relationship I had ever been in. I've had deeper love, but there was something wild, wonderful and dangerous about what we had that will never be matched. We were crazy about each other and loved one another to extreme heights, but unfortunately we fought often at the same scary level.

We would start fights with one another that made no sense at all. She once gave me a tie for my birthday or something and we soon found ourselves in the middle of a heated and loud argument about whether or not I had said "thank you" in a manner that truly expressed the gratitude she had expected from me. There was another time when we had an awkward exchange on the telephone as I was about to go out with a friend. Twenty minutes later, my friend and I are at a bar and the bartender asks me if I'm Mike. I nodded and he handed me the phone. She had looked up the numbers for the bars close to my apartment and called to argue some more.

Of course, I wasn't anywhere near blameless in our relationship's rocky and jagged edges. I'm usually an easy-going guy. I'm happy to avoid confrontation and pick my battles wisely with the actual intention of picking no battles at all; but with her, while I don't remember starting any fights, I sure did jump at the chance to match her voice level, decibel by decibel. During one telephone argument, I remember finally ripping the phone out of the wall in extreme frustration. (I would later walk to a pay phone and smooth things over.)

My favorite memory of our fights though was music related. We were driving somewhere one day when Green Day's "When I Come Around" came on the radio. Something about that song had always annoyed me, but she didn't know that. She reached over from the passenger seat and turned the dial. Just like that. No respect for me, the driver, at all. Had she said, "I really hate this song. Care if I change it?," I'd have had no problem with that whatsoever. But she had just reached over and changed my radio station choice with no regard to my opinion. We fought. I turned it back and we went at each other, with me pretending to love Green Day as Billy Joe Armstrong's nasal voice actually annoyed the hell out of me in the background.

As was always the case with us, we soon got over it and were having sex on my futon by the end of the day. But for the remainder of our relationship, I had to continue to feign interest in a band I couldn't have cared about at all, just because. There was no way we were going to last. We were a relationship that had started with a date to see Adam Sandler's Billy Madison in February '95 and ended in early '96 with her seeing Mr. Holland's Opus with her mom in a bonding effort to get over us.

It's now over ten years later. I'm married with two more kids, I hear that she's married and doing well, and I've actually become a legitimate Green Day fan. 2004's American Idiot finally won me over. And I'm back to being an easy-going guy. I wish her the best.

(Moonrise photo by Leesa.)

Would you believe that my birthday is on November 1st this year?

On November 1st, Ecco will release The Early Years: The Lyrics of Tom Waits 1971-1983 (hardcover). In 2008, my birthday will go back to being on December 18.

Hat tip to the good people at The Eyeball Kid.

The People We Meet Are Sometimes Awesome

Several months ago, I had the pleasure of meeting Ana Cristina. So beautiful, so kind and polite, and what an amazing voice she has. I wish nothing but the best for her.

Check her myspace page and listen to "El Tiempo."

Small Fries, Big Steps

We sit in a messy room and watch Star Wars.

Bukowski wrote Post Office here

LAist informs that the apartment where Charles Bukowski wrote Post Office and so many other works is for sale and may be demolished.

It's here at age 50 that he got his break. New publisher, John Martin, liked Bukowski's writing and promised him his post office wages for the rest of his life if he would quit his job and write full-time for Martin's Black Sparrow Press.

Plant, Krauss to cover Tom Waits

Billboard.com reports that Robert Plant and Allison Krauss will cover Tom Waits' "Trampled Rose" on their upcoming collaborative effort, Raising Sand. The project will also feature the always fantastic Marc Ribot on guitar. Ribot has previously played on Waits' albums, Rain Dogs, Big Time, Frank's Wild Years, Mule Variations and Real Gone.

I look forward to hearing it. I have every faith that it'll be a thing of beauty. Raising Sand will be released on October 23 by Rounder Records.

Is this thing on?

Bought the mic, downloaded the Audacity, but couldn't get a decent volume level on my voice. I'll re-tackle that endeavor later so that Paige and I can get our own podcast off the ground.

I suppose that's a good thing since we still don't have any idea what we're going to talk about on said podcast.

Speaking out for animal rights in a DVD-remote world.

The spider was next to his toy box on the carpet. I took a shoe to the spider and squished him.

My four year old son, who I thought was going to thank me, instead defended said spider.

"Why'd you do that? He had legs, Daddy, but he wasn't moving. He was paused."

Trying not to smile while kissing the prettiest girl.

Killswitch Engage Takes Me Back

A Father in the ER at Midnight

I wish I was a doctor. He's my seventeen year old son and he's been in pain for over a week. He's lost over 10 pounds because he can't keep anything down. The doctor thought maybe gall bladder, but the CT scan said everything was fine. Tonight he just about passed out. So much school, so much work, so much pain, so little food or drink in his system.

And so off to ER he went. Properly hydrated and the ultrasound found...nothing wrong. Probably viral. Ugh. He's in such pain and is so weak. Seventeen year olds are immortal, right? Not tonight. And I helplessly just watch. Polite with doctors, polite with all concerned, I ache. He aches more.

He's seventeen. He'll be fine. This stuff will pass and he'll be back to good soon enough.

Curiously Married*

*my wedding ring, as it appears on top of an Altoids tin.

She sings Tom Waits' "Green Grass"

Cibelle - "Green Grass"

I accept you Paige...

Today is August 3, 2007. Five years ago, she said "I do." So did I. For five years, she's been my beautiful bride. At my side, through it all, and I continue to fall more and more in love with her each and every day.

We fell in love, she waited...and waited...and waited, and I finally asked her to marry me on a nervous day on top of Georgia's Stone Mountain. Even though we were already planning how our wedding would be, I still managed to surprise her with that proposal and that ring. She said yes and we embraced and she cried. Afterward, I asked a passerby if he would take our picture. I told him that I just asked her to marry me. With the most serious look of curiosity, he asked me what she said. I still laugh at that. Would I have wanted to document the moment with a picture had she said no? What kind of masochist did he think I was?

A few short months later, we stood in the small church in Fernandina Beach, Florida, and we exchanged vows:

I accept you Paige,
as a person, and as my wife,
with your strengths and your weaknesses.
I promise to be loyal to you in health
or illness,
to share what I have and who I am,
to love enough to risk being hurt,
to trust when I misunderstand,
to weep with you in sorrow,
to celebrate with you in joy,
and to live with you in reverence.

iPod not always necessary

In my head right now is a song I haven't heard in more than a decade. And it resonates with all of the beauty that I knew when I was that younger dreamer of a man.

Michael McDermott - "620 W. Surf"

I went to church just to pray
Came back home feeling the same way
But I still believe

I heard music in my dreams
Then I woke up to the sounds of screams
But not to worry, it was only me
At 620 W. Surf

Ticking Away...

From Kate & Leopold:

---

Stuart: It is no more crazy than a dog finding a rainbow. Dogs are colourblind, Gretchen. They don't see colour. Just like we don't see time. We can feel it, we can feel it passing, but we can't see it. It's just like a blur. It's like we're riding in a supersonic train and the world is just blowing by, but imagine if we could stop that train, eh, Gretchen? Imagine if we could stop that train, get out, look around, and see time for what it really is? A universe, a world, a thing as unimaginable as color to a dog, and as real, as tangible as that chair you're sitting in. Now if we could see it like that, really look at it, then maybe we could see the flaws as well as the form. And that's it; it's that simple. That's all I discovered. I'm just a... a guy who saw a crack in a chair that no one else could see. I'm that dog who saw a rainbow, only none of the other dogs believed me.

From WNYC's Radio Lab:

Einstein's Theory of Relativity may have implications on the concept of choice. Namely, that there is none. Do we choose what movie to see tonight? No. (It's already been chosen, some say.) Do we choose to wiggle our finger? No. (Already wiggled.) This hour of Radio Lab features conversations with scientists and an entire cast of characters who are all waging battle against time – or at least the common sense view of time. We'll visit a particle accelerator where scientists recreate the moment just after the beginning of time...and also a Dublin artist whose life is a 19 century time-experiment. We end in the Mojave desert, where geologic time flows like a frozen hourglass.

You Just Had Sex. What Was Your Reason?

From Saturday's New York Times:

For now, thanks to psychologists at the University of Texas at Austin, we can at last count the whys. After asking nearly 2,000 people why they’d had sex, the researchers have assembled and categorized a total of 237 reasons — everything from “I wanted to feel closer to God” to “I was drunk.” ...more>>