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Right?

Record stores in the news. Record stores on my mind.

I spend a lot of time remembering fondly the days of my record store employment. For approximately six long years, I sold CDs (back when they lived in longboxes) and tapes, cassingles and concert tickets. It's funny how through the passage of time, it's hard for me to remember anything but fun times in that little brick and mortar store on Nolensville Road. Surely there was a reason that each and every December, I recall announcing that this would be my last Christmas in retail. In fact, my coworkers always said the same thing...year in and year out.

I've been thinking of part-time jobs lately and would love to work a few hours a day in a record store. But it's hard to imagine, given the state of record retail today, that any are doing well enough to be hiring anyway. Maybe I'll park cars for Christmas tips, instead.

Anyway, here are some links to recent news stories about record stores:

Record-Store Clerk Blues - "If you can’t alphabetize, then leave it to the professionals."

Police raid former record store - "A sign outside reads Rarebird Records, but police say for months a storefront has been a hotspot for illegal gambling."

Woman commits suicide at record store - Just a tragic story. Including it anyway.

I thought the links would be more interesting than these. All of the others are just press releases about different independents and chains closing their doors and declaring bankruptcy.

What were/are your fave record stores? I never went to Lucy's on Church Street back in the 90s, but I did frequent a tiny shop whose name I can't recall on Elliston while it lasted. (John, do you remember its name?) I worked at Turtle's, Waves, and Blockbuster Music (formerly Turtle's), and currently shop - albeit rarely - at Phonoluxe and Grimey's.

The benefits of lazy parenting. (TV can teach your kids!)

While watching a bit of the fantastic Planet Earth series with the kids this morning, I thought I'd jump-start the excitement at seeing a screen filled with penguins.

Me: Oooh, cool! Look, kids. Penguins!
He who is four: Yes, Daddy. Those are called Emperor Penguins. See their yellow necks?

Apparently, Dora and Diego have taught the child more than I had thought. He was but a learner before, but now he is the teacher.

Bad mood, meet iPod shuffle and dissipate.

I clocked out tonight with a deep level of frustration clouding my mood. I'm thinking of two small incidents from earlier in the evening.

One person laughs sweetly as she remembers that she has no cash on her to tip me with. She's nice enough and very pleasant, but she just doesn't seem bothered by this at all. She's simply tickled. I'm simply ticked. I finish helping her with her luggage, smile and wish her a good stay. (sigh)

Another lays into me about her wait as I pick her up at the airport. I've done nothing wrong. I'm merely doing my job. Someone's on break and I'm covering his route. I'm on time and helpful as always. No matter. Her wait is my fault. No tip.

Other than that, it was an easy shift. I swept up a lot, read a bit, and enjoyed an otherwise uneventful evening. But my head wouldn't let the facts above rest. What are you doing with your life? Did you envision a life of apologizing to people for things that are not your fault as a career when you were younger? I miss working at the record store. Surrounded by music and by music lovers, I rarely clocked out frustrated.

Anyway, here's my drive home. Its soundtrack took me back to happiness. I'm smiling now.

Shuffle:

iron maiden - "hallowed be thy name" took me from elm hill pike to bell road. i love the strength in this song. its lyrics tell quite the tale as well.

When the priest comes to read me the last rites
I take a look through the bars at the last sights
Of a world that has gone very wrong for me

Can it be theres some sort of error
Hard to stop the surmounting terror
Is it really the end not some crazy dream

the hold steady - "citrus" softened my heart as i stepped away from my anger and gained perspective again.

i feel Jesus in the clumsiness of young and awkward lovers
I feel Judas in the long odds of the rackets on the corners
I feel jesus in the tenements of honest, nervous lovers
I feel Judas in the pistols and the pagers that come with all the powders

newton dominey - "all i need tonite" took me across the dam and to my home. whatever my worries, they're on the other side of the lake. i'm home now and with those who love me. i'm home now.

can't close my lonely eyes
without you walking through my movie
i know how it ends i know the lines
but i watch it every night

frank sinatra - "silent night." i step out of the car and close its door and hear frank sing this beautiful song with perfect dignity. this might be my favorite Christmas song. i walk to my door and it doesn't even occur to me to worry about being too broke to buy for my loved ones.

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child
Holy Infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

christina aguilera - "candyman" plays as i put leash to collar and walk my dog in the quiet night. well, christina's not quiet. i love this song. written by christina and former 4 non blondes singer, linda perry, it's an awesome tribute to the famous "boogie woogie bugle boy" by the andrews sisters.

I met him out for dinner on a Friday night
He really got me working up an appetite
He had tattoos up and down his arm
There's nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm

Thanks for reading.

My heart is in good hands.

It was early this morning and my daughter woke me up the way she usually does. "Wake up, silly," she joyfully exclaimed. There is no waking up in a bad mood when those are the first words I hear. In her eyes, it really must be the silliest thing that I'm still sleeping when she's so awake and so happy at six in the morning. Never mind that I tend to go to bed at two.

I open my eyes, smile, and chat a bit with her as she goes about the process of convincing me that I should get out of bed and come into the living room with her. What we were talking about, I have no recollection, but at one point I said, grinning mischievously, "Ari, you break my heart." I said this more for me than for anyone else. It sounded like a cute thing to say to my wonderful little princess, regardless that the meaning of the phrase was probably way over the reach of her 2-year-old pretty head.

Always the apple of my eye, she responded sweetly: "Don't worry, Daddy. I'll fix it. I'll fix your heart." If I wasn't wrapped around her finger already, I certainly was now. Reflexively, I turned to see if her mom had heard this cute little offer of love. She had and we got to share one of those perfect little moments between parents.

If nothing else, Ari made up for the time that she and I had the following exchange:

Me: I love you, Ari.
Ari: Awww. And I like you, Daddy.

While on break, we listen to Sound Tribe Sector 9

"You got your electronica in my jam band."

"You got your jam band in my electronica."

"Let's call it STS9."



Overheard, a later conversation about STS9:

"It's great. You can either jog to it or you can take a bath to it."

In Nashville, the music can always make your night.

Back Story

I love Nashville. There's something about this city that may be the same in others, but surely not most. The overall musical talent level is so high here that one can walk into just about any bar on any night and hear for a $5 cover, if any cover at all, talent that would easily be able to charge $20 or more almost anywhere else. One night, maybe fifteen years ago, I wandered into Nashville's Douglas Corner Cafe, expecting a beer or two and, at worst, some passable singer-songwriter stuff. Playing instead was music I was aware of but had never really heard. The famous Nashville Jug Band was on stage and their playing pretty much knocked me on my ass. Whatever the talent level was (and it was pretty high), the sense of fun that exuded from those players and their instruments was impossible to chart.

In the coming weeks and months, I'd go to Douglas Corner each and every time they'd play. Sadly, being pretty busy musicians on their own, and I guess doing this more as a hobby than anything else, they didn't play often. So many years have gone by and I'd pretty much forgotten about them and the whole experience.

Fast forward to tonight.

It was a long and slow night at the hotel. Hardly anyone was checking in and, if given the chance to go home early, I would have jumped at it. Thirty minutes before the end of my shift, I was lucky to help a wonderfully nice couple with their luggage. And the beauty of conversation turned my dull night into a beautifully memorable one. I would have talked with them for hours if I could. They're retired photographers for the local paper. (I'm far from any pro, but I love taking pictures.) He's really, really into music. (Me, too.) He's a Blues archivist and plays in a band called the Jake Leg Stompers. I've listened to a couple of cuts on their site and I'm in awe. As he said to me earlier tonight in what wasn't quite self-deprecating as it may sound: "We don't let good talent get in the way of good fun." Or something like that. Bottom line -- the talent is great, but the sense of fun is even better.

It made my night to talk music and iPods, and photography and the archiving of photos with a wonderfully awesome couple of people tonight. I hope they have a wonderful night.

Heads up...

The Jake Leg Stompers, playing "pre-war roots music," will be playing live at The Station Inn on Saturday, December 22. Ten bucks gets you in. Care to join me?

Sasha Say...

My favorite music writer links to "the record review of the year."

Sounds good to me.

Her Daisy Rock guitar sure is a beauty.

I was lucky to meet a country music legend the other night. Playing right this minute at the famous Ernest Tubb Midnite Jamboree is this week's host, "The Queen of Rockabilly," Wanda Jackson.

We talked for a bit and she was kind enough to open her guitar case for me. Therein lay her famous pink Daisy Rock guitar. "Made specifically for women," she told me. She's playing it now and everything sounds wonderful. I wish I was at the show, but listening to it live online suffices nicely.

Archives of the Ernest Tubb Midnite Jamboree, live from the Texas Troubadour Theatre, are here. Nashville's musical heritage always makes me smile.

Anja Garbarek

Go to NPR Music and hear beautiful transcendence.

I've read comparisons to Bjork, but it's Portishead I hear.

There is a Butter Bomb Bath in my near future and this will be the music I play while I soak and hide temporarily from the rest of life's sound and fury.

Anja Garbarek's father, it should be noted, is avant-jazz guitarist Jan Garbarek.

Quantum Beauty

Stuff like this makes my head both marvel and spin:

In a nutshell, the theory suggests that we change things simply by looking at them and theorists have puzzled over the implications for years.

Another excerpt:

New Scientist reports a worrying new variant as the cosmologists claim that astronomers may have accidentally nudged the universe closer to its death by observing dark energy, a mysterious anti gravity force which is thought to be speeding up the expansion of the cosmos.

And another:

"The intriguing question is this," Prof Krauss told the Telegraph. "If we attempt to apply quantum mechanics to the universe as a whole, and if our present state is unstable, then what sets the clock that governs decay? Once we determine our current state by observations, have we reset the clock? If so, as incredible as it may seem, our detection of dark energy may have reduced the life expectancy of our universe."

Can we just exist long enough to see the Titans thrill us with a consistent deep-threat passing game? Will Axl Rose's Chinese Democracy see the light of day before we are all lost to the universe's dark energy?

CERN's Large Hadron Collider is due to switch on in '08. It will attempt to recreate that fraction of a second after the Big Bang some 13.7 billion years ago.

And then there's Surfer Dude's Theory of Everything.

There's nothing more beautiful to me than appreciating and trying to understand life as we know it.

Enjoy every moment.

Happy/Sad

Baby steps to a joyous season.

Easing into the Christmas spirit now.

I've always had some kind of aversion to the whole thing. At least it's how I've been since adulthood. While in my early 20s, my friend Chris and I would make the rounds on Thanksgiving, visiting various family tables, eating and chatting, but always ending up in a movie theater later on in the evening, pouring Wild Turkey or Southern Comfort into our expensive soft drinks and dealing separately with our own issues, whatever they were.

'Tis the season for wondering why I never feel at ease in a crowd, even a crowd of loving family members. I smile politely and hope that I don't say something embarrassing or reveal that I don't belong. Angst at any age is both silly and all-consuming. I miss those who are no longer with us, especially at this time of the year. Ron wrote today about something that really resonated with me. My grandmother, who I didn't realize wasn't flawless until recent years, embodied the season for me. Her boiled custard (made specifically for me, I'm sure) was simply the best. After she passed, I would begrudgingly buy store bought boiled custard and shake my head at how far removed from her recipe's wonderfulness it was. Now I drink it and it tastes pretty good. Time has done its thing and I cannot recall the taste of the preferred recipe. Its superiority is diminished in my mind and that only adds to my seasonal melancholy.

With Christmas approaching, I am more aware than any other time of the year that I can't afford gifts for those I love. I only wish I was seven again and all I had to do was come downstairs to a room full of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins and get to unwrapping gifts. I'm the dad now and it's up to me to mask my weird, unsettled feelings and memories and see the holiday through my kids' eyes.

I'm easing into the right spirit. Baby steps. Frank Sinatra's The Sinatra Christmas Album plays. It's simple, a bit sad but hopeful, and perfect for this late evening of reflection. We're out of boiled custard. I'll be sure to buy some more tomorrow.

Bobby Thompson - New CD, Site Revamped

Go to BobbyThompsonBanjo.com for more info.

Bah, humbug. (My toe hurts.)

While getting the stupid artificial Christmas tree out of the stupid storage closet, a stupid 20 lb. weight fell hard onto my toe.

Remember in A Christmas Story when Ralphie said "fudge," but he really said something else? Yep, I said that something else, too.

My wife asked me if I wanted to go to the ER. I gave the typical male answer.

And what kind of blogger would I be if I didn't post a picture of the pain?

(click below for the version with the blood)