radio spelling bee

One of the things that has struck me as queer about Restoration England is the way words were written and pronounced. I was having a rough time making sense of it until I read that there was no standardized system of spelling and that most of the time people would spell a word as they heard it. This could vary by regional accent.

I was wanting to give my new novel more of historical undercurrent and perhaps write it as it would've been written back then. But I'm debating it. On one hand I hate where people in novel a set back in the past talk like it's 2004. On the other hand I hate when a novel is written with an accent that makes it unreadable. Then there is the spelling issue. It's not as if Microsoft Word can do a spell check on Restoration period English.

Also one of our songs got played on the radio last night, albeit at 11:30pm, albeit on the local show, albeit on college radio; but, it was still fun! Our web site got a plug which was a nice bonus.

love to all my friends and foes

My iTunes will only play one song, "Simplicity Is Beautiful" by Juliana Hatfield. Awesome, awesome tune. It makes me smile and want to write songs in Drop-D.

My sister got Rebekah and I a headphone amp for our Anniversary. That's cool!

I've got a Doctor's appointment in a hour. I'm gonna make them blind weigh, anorectic style. I can't deal with my weight right now. I'm also gonna try to talk the Doctor into writing a script for Clenbuterol so I can haul it back from Mexico.

What else?

Hmmm.

It's going to be long work day. I might as well never leave today.

Nothing much else has been going on. Just incredibly busy, busy, busy, busy, busy.

My love to all my friends and foes.

A Good Day

It's 11:30 p.m., Sunday, September 26th. I'm going to type a little before going to bed and I'll finish this up Monday or maybe Tuesday. I need to get this right.

It would almost be wrong not to consider this weekend one of the best of my entire life - and without a doubt THE best since I have been married. For the longest time it I figured there came a point with your teenage years behind where the party had to eventually stop. It least it did around here. Everybody got married, got jobs, got mortagages, got dull, got boring, got old and completely cynical. But it doesn't have to be that way. Indeed it appears that at least in some parts the party is still going on.

At some point during our long drive back home Rebekah says to me, "This may seem stupid but there were times Saturday when I felt like I was sixteen again." But it's not stupid, because I felt the exact same way. At least for a day we had that same energy and excitement that only a group of friends who aren't afraid to love and support one another can provide. It was such an incredible high.

And I would be a totally rotten person if I don't manage to grasp at least a small part of that and bring it back home. "You don't know love, unless you show love." Love is really the key isn't it? It's the sign of a true Christian yet I don't see too often where I'm from. It's almost as if we have all resigned ourselves that that we will die for our brothers, yes if it got to that ultimate sacrafice, we would most assuredly show love for them . . . then and only then. It's a painful assessment.

But why wait until that off event happens? Isn't it easier to give someone a big hug? Isn't it easier to applaud hard and compliment and let someone know you appreciate them? At least that is my resolve. Yeah I'm in danger of looking like an absolute nutjob as I go around showing love to everybody. But I don't care. Too often I just mope around complaining about the area I'm living in and not doing a single thing to make it a better place.

"If everybody tried to brighten other people's eyes then they'd always surely shine."

So let me talk about the music at October Ridge . . . How absolutely incredible! Listening to all of it you just have to smile knowing that you won't be spending an eternity listening to King David plucking away on a harp. Everybody was brilliant and great big shining stars.

Rebekah and I played the songs we have been playing in the basement for a year (and in some cases longer). I was so nervous I played like gash, I conceed that point. Rebekah however was so spot on. Even songs that she has struggled through in the past she did perfect -- better than ever. After we did our thing everybody was so supportative of it and seemed like they really dug it. I'm happy about it and really encouraged to keep it up.

But in honesty we were the lesser of the talent there. I have to give special attention to Daytrip. On a music level they were so perfect. The sounds that they were producing were superhuman. If I could spend a day driving through an empty desert with Daytrip as my sound track I would be very happy.

Now I'm gonna gush about Pop Riveter and how they just may my favorite band at present (This decision is made easier since Throwing Muses are defunct.) I have never felt that much energy at a show in my entire life. It was just geniune j-o-y! Very few people can write happy songs without resorting to cliché. Pop Riveter may be one of the few. Pure bliss that was.

Yeah and I finally got to meet Hiromi and his wife Robbie. For two years I've been reading Hiromi's website since my wife found it in some random google search or something. It was so great getting to spend a little (too little) time with them Saturday morning. Last year we stayed with Reed and Janna. We had the opportunity to stay with them again but I inconvienced H and his wife for purely selfish motives to have the privalege of knowing them better. How incredible the hospitality they showed and what awesome people they are! I can't thank them enough for the bed and for the breakfast and for my first latte and for the conversation and for my awesome drawing of Dagon. Cheer.

I owe very deep thanks to many of my Northern Brothers and Sisters. In addition to assemblies and conventions I need to add a yearly visit to the cities to affirm my faith.

Oh yes it was a good day.

madison, wi

It's really, really early Saturday morning and I'm writing this from Madison, WI. My cold-flu-sinus-allergy-pnuemonia medicine combo had me up @ 5 am. I was feally really good so I took off running. I tried to do my 5 miles but at the 3 mile mark my throat and ear started hurting simueltaneously so I had to stop and walk back. I still did 5-miles but the last 2 were walking. I'm let down about that . . . but I'm recovering from a sick week (here's were I make excuses for myself). Also the only thing I have eaten in the last two days are 3 hershey's kisses, 3 mini-nestlé crunch bars, and an arby's roast beef sandwhich. Under 1000 calories in over 48 hours is pretty much not a good idea on a running schedule.

In a couple hours we will be leaving for music in Minnesota.

lethargic antihistimene haze

It's Friday morning and I'm so incredibly doped out of my mind. Yesterday my allergies or something hit me incredibly hard and now I'm in a lethargic antihistimene haze. Rebekah gave me a Claritan and that helped quite a bit, but in the meantime I'm just shaky and out of it. My sleep last night was in and out and off-time.

On the verge of passing out from exhaustian Rebekah and I finished our new song "Sarah S". The problem with new songs is that I'm incredibly fickle and inevitably I'll start loving the new song and hating the others. (Hate in the biblical sense of loving less.) Anyhow "Sarah S." was such a fun song to write. We kept coming up with really great lyrics that we had to dump in the process of keeping it clean. It's good and it's about a girl we knew who always had a guy on each arm and one in reserve.

I'm taking a half-day off and we are heading up to Minnesota, stopping over at Madison, WI tonight to see Amanda and rest at the half-way point.

Tomorrow we are playing October Ridge and I am really happy about that.

Sarah S

On account of an incredibly sore throat I've switched off to herbal tea for the duration of my sickness. It's been awhile since I've had tea due to trading over to coffee a couple years back. In that time I've forgot what a delight a good, hot cup of tea is.
.
Rebekah and I are 95% done on a new song called "Sarah S", once again continuing with the girl theme. It's pretty breakneck and exhilirating writing a song, practicing two days, and then performing it live. I know Rebekah panics about that but I hope the audience will be very forgiving if we botch it up. It's with them in mind that we went back to the slate to crank out a new "uppity" song instead of settling for a poor fitting acoustic number or a 6a2 cover that sounds like gash with the synths removed.

Sonny Bono or Prince Valiant

Saturday I broke down and self-defeated I found myself sitting on a chair at the Regis salon. Rebekah had made an appoitment for herself and I tagged along for support. It was incredibly boring as Rebekah was getting the works (and since it's for our "band" through some weird accounting practice it's tax deductible) and I waited and finally decided to get my head chopped as well. Well it's a lotto draw on who I would get since I didn't have a hard-fast appoitment. But in settling for first available I got lucky and got the girl with pink hair and glasses. Score! We didn't use clippers but we did reel in my hair so I no longer look like Sonny Bono or Prince Valiant.

Sunday we went apple picking and picked about 8 apples. It's more of an experience than an actual need for apples that motivates us to go every year. And every year I make the same observation; there is an abnormal ratio of asian to caucasion in the orchard. It must be this weird cultural thing but they are usually dressed up. The ladies wear sundresses and the men wear slacks and button downs. It's got this paradise vibe. I looked down at my denim trousers and t-shirt and suddenly felt ashamed.

My marathon training began this morning, officially. And officially I ran three miles (39 minutes) and for the first time I wasn't tired. I was really bored but I wasn't struggling or hurting. This Saturday coming up is my first 6-mile run E-V-E-R. I'm going to be out of town so it should be odd.

So we should have a busy week. We need to get the car-washed, an oil-change, and an alignment. We need to practice and I need to write another song to keep us from dipping too far into the 6a2 bag when we perform this weekend. The comfirmed songs are: Caroline, Miko, Ana, and Katie. All are good, tight pop-rockers.

Library Fine

Our library system is absolutely hardcore! We received a form letter threatening arrest if I didn't return my library book that I've had out since . . . dunno . . . months ago. They said either pay for the book or else! The cost of the book is $10.99 which is cheaper than actually buying it from Amazon so I guess I'll go that route. After all, do you know what they do to people who don't return library books when they go to prison? Do ya?! That being said, it's a really, really good book about the London Plague and Fire.

Running Shorts

I just found out that there was no room in the half-marathon so Rebekah's father signed up for the full marathon. There are two bad scenarios that could happen: A.) He dies because he hasn't conditioned himself and rushed the training. B.) He finishes and steals my thunder. This kind of makes me angry. I've been working on this for most of 2004 and here he comes in at the zero hour and claims he is going to do it to. A half-marathon was a stretch but reasonable. A full marathon is suicide.

I should be working instead of writing this, I have so much to do. But it is Monday and the zeal just isn't there.

Also over the weekend we took Mina to get a hair cut at SuperCuts in the mall. I wandered in and sat down reading a dated issue of CosmoGirl while I waited. This large beautician ambles over to me and says, "Sir, are you waiting for a hair cut? I can take you now." I replied, "No." She looked at my mop-top and says, "Are you sure?". I really need to get my hair cut but I feel like it'll rob me of my power much like Samson. I dunno. I'm at the breaking point where I'll either stick it out or cave in.

I also finally got my running underwear which I bought a size too small. I wanted to take them back but once you try them on you're stuck with them. But I wasn't gonna let the money go to waste so I wore them anyway for my run this morning. I'll let you write your own punchline as to the obvious results.

Rebekah and I are playing music together in the off-chance I can get Paro to give us a small slot at October Ridge. If anyone knows him please put in a good word. Not so much because you want to hear our unique brand of indie-pop but because you want us to stay together as a couple by making and playing music together.

Loco

Part of my job is meeting with salespeople from time to time. Usually they are completely polished and professional. Well the other day I agreed (somehow) to meet with two guys from a company called ChemSafe or ChemSearch or something. It's this old guy (Mr. Burns old) and some young bald dude.

I take them into our conference room and we sit down. The old guy is completely clueless and reminds me of the lackluster sales guy, Gil, from the Simpsons. He starts asking me what I like to do in my spare time. I say that I don't really have spare time, that I'm very busy with work, hoping he'll get to the point. He looks at me blankly. His young assistant just keeps scanning the room nervously.

Gil, I'll call him that, pulls out a pocket knife. His hands are shaking as he tries to pull out the blade as I tried to estimate my escape route. He hands me the knife and says, "I wanted you to have this." I take it and say, "Thanks."

Well then he launches into his sales pitch which is just a string of completely random items followed by an elaborate demonstration. Hand cleaner, windshield de-icer, lubricating oil, and wasp and hornet killer. By the time he got to the wasp and hornet spray I have expected him to release killer bees to demonstrate the unholy killing power of his product.

I didn't buy anything and ended the conversation by asking, "Are you guys local?"

The young guys replies, all smiles, "YES WE'RE CRAZY!!"

I give him this puzzled look as I once again plan my escape. "Excuse me." I say.

The young guys says, "YEH, WE'RE COMPLETELY LOCO." and with that they packed up and left . . .

3 Chocolate-Banana Milk Shakes

Best Waste Of 9 Bucks: 3 chocolate-banana milk shakes from Steak N' Shake.

Worst Waste of 9 Bucks: The Polyphonic Spree CD is just terrible. It's a choral group without that which makes a good choral group - harmony. There seems to be a million instruments in the band but on the album you are lucky to hear two or three. The lead is off-tune and horrible. But the robes are nice.

On and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on . . .

So my 3-day weekend came just in time to keep me sane. We had a brief trip to see my parents until Mina got frighteningly sick so we came home and she recovered back to normal sick.

Sometime over the last week I figured out the end to my novel. My first novel. The one that I had finished. It never really seemed cohesive. Well I sussed out the appropriate ending and once it is in place I can rewrite the thing toward the new ending. Bits of the story was already leading to the conclusion but I was holding back, plotting for a sequel I'm never gonna write or something. So I'm going back and putting in the happy ending where all the characters get what they want although none would have chosen for it to happen the way it happened. I hate to working on that novel again when I'm more than ready to go on with my second but . . . y'know.

Schools Out

So I've been thinking of politics lately. I don't know if in the past I just wasn't aware of it as much but it seems to be ever present this time around. I can't listen to radio or watch TV without being urged to vote. I can't even walk the street without having voter registration clipboards thrust at me.

I was reading about a religious conference that was held where the interfaith attendees weighed heavily on the question, "Who would Jesus vote for?". The decision was a split one. "He would either vote Democratic or Rebulican" the shrewd counsel surmised. Afterall Jesus loved the poor and afflicted so he would vote Democratic. At the same time Jesus had high morals so he would vote Republican. I wonder if the notion that Jesus would have exercised his right not to vote ever came up . . . at all . . . maybe . . . just one dissenting voice . . . anyone?

Everything I know about politics has come recently from a children's book on U.S. Presidents that we bought for Mina. For some reason she has really been interested in George Washington, FDR, and George "The Dad" Bush. I particularly enjoyed reading about the development of the U.S.'s two party system. In the beginning the founders of the U.S.A. were against the idea of political parties reasoning that individual difference of opinion would keep everybody in check. Advocates of parties eventually won out and party lines were drawn on the heated subject of slavery. Republicans were against slavery and Democrats were either for it or apathetic toward it.

Schools out.


I ran last night at 8:00 pm. The late night run is unusual as I usually try to do it at the crack of dawn. (I overslept from sweet joy of work hassels fading away.) My running seems to have inpsired my father-in-law to give it a shot. He wants to attempt a half-marathon. That's fine. But now my mother-in-law is starting too. It's enough to make me want to totally give up. She has a ton of made up ailments which running will surely highten. She'll be laid up for weeks and we'll all have to suffer through her war stories. She's such a killjoy.

a zillion misc. thoughts

Here's a zillion misc. thoughts:

One thing that I know for sure is that margaritas on your lunch break is never a good idea, especially when mixed with questionable Messican food. I was sick for two days and it went way beyond the typical. Uggg. I'm going dry and avoiding South of the Border cuisine like the plague.

We ditched Mina on Friday and went to the book store. I was still sick and spent much time contemplating making a #2 in a public restroom which is never a good idea and always a last resort.

We picked up "The Official Scrabble Players Dictionary" which is not really official come to find out. You can't use it for tournament play but it's great for JW play. There's no profanity in it. But the dictionary is dangerous because it validates archaic misspellings of words. For instance "chetah" is a perfect alternative to "cheetah".

I love beehive hair-do's. A young teenage boy in our hall just got a perm. My hair is really, really bad right now. I look like the lost beetle. I take that back. With my uni-brow and beetle do, I look like Oasis.

My running program is the only thing keeping me from having an eating disorder. I need food to run. Unfortunately.
I spent $23 dollars on cookies. We ended up giving some away to Rebekah's mom just do get them out of the house.

Mina is rebelling. She just said that she liked the band Yellowcard. Arrgg. (By the way "Arrgg" is Scrabble legal along with "Arrrggg" and "Arrrrggg".)

I need to go to bed.

tah.

T.

on the verge of collapse

Last night at the BS, Jason was talking about turning 29. I asked him how he felt about it. He said that he had never felt better in his life.

How sad then that everyday I feel like I am dying. I can't put my finger on it. I don't know if I'm depressed, or sick, or aging or what. Everyday I wade through the day and then get home and feel on the verge of collapse.

dreck and qat

Saturday night we went out to eat with inlaws and the came back to the house for a game of Scrabble. I came in second. I should've won but my words didn't appear in the moldy old dictionary we had laying around. I lost to two seperate challenges for the words "dreck" and "qat". Poop.

Sunday we went to the City Museum. It's a cross between a playground and a giant found art project. It's insane in scope and execution and there is room to grow. We were climbing five stories up in the fuselage of a plane before sliding down a three story slide. They are planning a ten story slide that will start at the top of the building and spiral down to the man-made "caves" in the basement. I also like how the place is semi-dangerous, harkening back to the time when the line between playground equipment and midieval torture device was blurred. Thumbs up. It's expensive but definately worth checking out.

Hot-or-Not?

Last night I was lamenting how my name isn't sexy. Then Rebekah pointed out that an old flame of mine used to pronounce my name as Aunthony. Perhaps an attempt to imbue it with sexiness that didn't exist?

Also last night I went to a business networking dinner type of thing that was being serviced by a cajun restaraunt. I walked in and was greeted with mounds of stinking crawdads, all bug-eyed. The alligator sausage at least was tasty.

Later last night we watched Word Wars. The documentary was about tournament level Scrabble players. I love Scrabble but these guys just about zapped the joy right out of it. The doc focused on the weird/strange/creepy/geeky players. I couldn't help but to wonder if there were normal players (albeit less interesting) participants hanging out just outside of camera range. The filmmakers had a very superior attitude to the people within it. It works for a Christopher Guest Mockumentary but for a legitimant documentary it feels too much like grade school finger pointing and name calling.

And even later last night I dreamed I killed a guy by slamming his head in a door, continuously.

360

Hello. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is 360. We may have to be indentified by our social numbers but we still rely on nicknames to ease things up. I wanted to use 720 but it was taken by an in/famous pornstar. Someone I definately didn't want to be associated with. 360. One revolution.

--

My run today was laboured because I was choking on humidity and soot. An area boardinghouse burned to the ground. So far there is one confirmed death. A fat guy couldn't squeeze out the window to escape so he burned to death. (An incentative to lose weight for those of us still living.) They don't know if there were any other deaths because the place was the kind of place strangers could rent by the week and come and go. Some of these people are probably rejoicing that they can pretend to be dead and pick up again with a new name. No debt. No criminal history.

They haven't ruled out a meth-lab explosion. It wouldn't be the first time a bathtub drug lab blew up a house in our neighborhood.

The police raised an eyebrow when I ran through the "POLICE LINE - DO NOT CROSS", arms raised, just like Bruce Jenner at the finish line.

Cold, chilly, frigid

It's August and it is down-right cold, chilly, frigid.

So we had a more or less busy weekend. We ate at Nobu's, Steak-N-Sheak, Tequila. We fixed some awesome 5-cheese tortellini that Amanda brought us and I topped it with a quick and easy, semi-homemade sauce.

After knocking the summer olympics early this week I now find myself totally enthralled with them. Now one thing abundantly clear, I really want one of those form fitting, full body swimsuits. There is a water slide at Walt Disney World's Blizzard Beach where it's possible to reach a speed of 60 mph. And that's in baggy swim trunks. Can you imagine what one of those shark-skinned swimming outfits would bump that up to?

I played tennis last night and was sooooo rusty. I kept trying to hit home runs or something. It's really a blow to the self-esteem sometimes. I should've went running instead.

Brisk, cool, and verty autumn like.

The weather here is brisk, cool and very autumn like. It is wonderful.

Superstar

Surf-N-Turf. So yesterday I grilled steak and salmon which was kind of an unsual dinner for us. What can I say? It was bland. The internet was down so I couldn't find any good marinades. Bleh.

I finally managed to locate a copy of Todd Hayne's Superstar; The Karen Carpenter Story. I was hoping to burn it to DVD but it is in some wacky MPEG-2 format that iDVD bawks at. I've got it downloaded to my work computer. I guess I have to watch it on my lunch hour sometime.

Last night I dreamed that I knocked on a door and inside was Johnny Depp dressed up like Libertine. He attempted to scare me and then kiss me.

Marvy ... Absolutely Marvy

Rebekah and I went record shopping. Specifically she went and I tagged along. She was really jazzed about this place because she is into old records and it is absolutely massive. I think it used to be a library that was gutted and lined with record shelves stacked on top of record shelves.

So I nosed around and found some cheap ($1.00) copies of all the Carpenter's albums because they have some absolutely wonderful songs and I'm too cheap to buy a greatest hits CD for twenty-bucks. (I'm really hoping to catch that 70's AM radio feel someday.)

I also dug out Nancy Sinatra's "How Does That Grab You?" because of the song "Bang Bang" that I'm in love with. It was a wee bit pricey ($8.00) but that is a awesome song and the album cover is the best ever. Also the text on the back reads like a Japanese person with a penchant for 60's slang:

How does that grab you? Asks Nancy. It grabs us good, says all the people. Lovey tunes and marvy melodies, all them gravid with meaning. All of them sung by the niceness of Nancy. All of them like to mess your head forevermore.

Let God be found true

When the Internet was first taking off I thought it was awesome how instantly you had all this information immediately accessible on any subject. I loved the Web and still do. I would glady give up TV before I would disconnect my cable modem.

But lately I've really been wondering about all this information and how it really blurs the line of truth. So you research a subject you'll be confronted with several contrary sources of information. Each one seemingly valid. Each one sincere.

You are forced to pick a belief and at the same time you can never be fully confident in it. On the Internet even readily established "facts" cannot stand up.

As long as you are "open-minded" you can never believe that there is such thing as truth. Everything is a leap of faith.

The easiest route is go with the flow of majority opinion. Perhaps the best is to be adamantly ignorant.

I expect that everything we know is riddled with inaccuracies and falsehoods. History. Science. Religion. Medicine. Government.

Can we take any of it at face value?

The only thing I believe these days is the Bible. If I'm going to put forth a leap of faith in something I might as well go for the one with the biggest payoff.

"Let God be found true, though EVERY man be found a liar"

Be prepared to one day wake up and discover that you've been wrong.

Grocery Store

First off I created a seperate blog so I can track my running progress and not bore the two or three people that read this.

Perhaps I need to also create a seperate blog to hold my numerous rants at my local grocery store. I'm starting to rearrange my diet to be heavy on the carbs. This includes a lot of pasta. It never fails that my grocery store doesn't carry the pasta I need for the recipes! Last night we tried to grab orzo. Nope. They have ninja turtle pasta but not orzo, they have alphabet but not campanelle. I HATE Shop-N-Save. They've got a whole isle of frozen pizzas but nothing else.

I'm becoming increasingly aware of the need to start managing my work and home time better. There is stuff that I want to get done in both arenas that I'm missing out on.

Sun Dried Tomato Sauce

On Friday I made Spaghetti with Creamy, Sun Dried Tomato Sauce. I substituted pancetta bacon for regular bacon and added a little olive oil to make up for the reduced amount of bacon fat. It was actually pretty good and scrumptious. Next time I'll chop the tomatoes more finely and add some mushrooms.

We went school shopping for Miss MIna, supplies and clothes. We still have some items to get - two boxes 24 color crayons, one pair new balance sneakers, etc. Rebekah disagrees with me but I would much prefer school uniforms.

I'm in love with our new song, "Felicia". I love making music (./period)

The Value of Art

The only real value of art is decoration.

Not Voting

Not voting is a valid political response to a lack of valid choices.

Social Security

Yesterday I got my Social Security statement in the mail. I particularly enjoyed how for every dollar that is automatically deducted from my paycheck at the time of my retirement at age 67 I can expect to receive 73 cents in return. 73 per dollar which inflation will render useless. I really wish there were other retirement plan options besides bankrupted social security.

Rebekah and I worked on a song last night. It was a nice little acoustic number with violin (synth-violin) flourishes and a temporary bossa nova beat. The Owls have totally got me into acoustic guitar again. When I recorded Emily & Jessica I was downed the acoustic guitar but on second listen it works better than electric. But not now. Not now

27

I've really been down since last night when it occured to me that I am 27 years old. That may sound silly but I kind of repress the notion of my age in attempt to cover the pain. However for some reason I was thinking about the marathon and how it would be cool that I ran 26 miles while being 26. Then I realised that I wasn't 26, but 27. Furthermore, I realised that when I run the race I won't even be 27, but 28. So this was a downward spiral of self-hate.

I'm frustrated with my grocery store. Yesterday I was craving pasta and had this really great recipe for a dish only to go shopping and the store didn't have key ingredients. So I ended up grabbing a jar of spaghetti sauce and some noodles. Not very good. Especially when I was wanting a cream sauce with sun dried tomatoes and pancetta bacon.

I'm frustrated with everything right now. The only bright spot is pop music.

I'm sorry this is all venom and vile. Hopefully I'll have something positive for next time.

One Mile

One mile.

Today I managed to haul myself out of bed and renew my running routine. I expected the worse. I expected that I would set out and it would be like starting all over again. I expected that I would be huffing and puffing my the end of the block. My expectations were wrong.

For the first time I ever I ran a mile straight through without having to drop to the occasional walk to catch my breath or rest. When I started running that was my goal. So I feel really good about that.

The plan now is to spend August running 4 days a week, 3 miles a day (total 12 miles a week). The goal is to get where I can run the three miles without stopping, even if I'm at a slow pace.

September I start my marathon training. My sister sent me a book The Non Runner's Marathon Trainer. I started reading it last night to try to gain some motivation and found that it was actually a pretty good book that fit my goals. That is to simply finish the race no matter what place that finish is in. My race is January 9, 2005.

So that is one month of warm up and four months training and then death before dishonor. Rah! Bring on the carbs!

DC

It's Sunday and it took long enough but I finally got that warm, fuzzy District Convention feeling. (BTW, I'm probably going to talk at liberty about program so if you haven't been and want to be surprised skip this.) So it happened, you are sitting around and looking at everybody and you think, "Wow, this is worth it." The DC always sets the bar so high. The best polished examples are paraded about. Perhaps unattainable but even if you can't get there hopefully you improve somewhat in the effort.

It was interesting just how much focus was spent on the foreign language aspect of our ministry. Our religion has always had a multilingual thrust but now it has come home. The US is the second biggest spanish speaking group of Witnesses. So many of the new congregations being formed are spanish. Not to mention the other languages that are in our territory.

The drama was really good in that b-movie sort of way. It was corny; but, entertaining. You learn new stuff. Like when you heal somebody with holy spirit it makes the same "twinkle" sound as when Samantha from Bewitched works her magic. But nothing beat the exorcist girl. She slid onto the stage like night of the living dead and then demon voice called out like some cheesy horror flick. I nearly fell out of my seat I was so beside myself with surprise and delight. Another funny moment was when Paul pulled out a new put down that I'll have to use, "You son of a devil."

I was also happy that they slammed all this carb counting nonsense.

Saturday night we went to the see the Owls play. It was in this tiny little bar that seemed to have a lot of greaser/rockabilly types hanging about. The Owls were great. Allison sounded like Jenny Toomey. Bryan sounded like Davy Jones. All together they were a much improved version of Call and Response. Beautiful music and great friendly people. And even though we didn't wear our badge cards Rebekah did a little informal witnessing with the band. So going to see a concert on district convention weekend wasn't a total religious copout.

Today Bill and Cindy came for a makeup day and we went out to eat with them. They are just so enjoyable and really good people.

Tomorrow is . . . work.

The Invention of the Century

So I was pretty down but then I read the most wonderful news ever. That's right Krispy Kreme has unveiled a glazed donut drink. Incredible. Forget what I said about the space elevator, iPod, and Segway. Hands down, this is THE invention of the century.
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Also, all of my dad's organ donors fell through so now he goes on the transplant list. And I'm really at a loss as to whether or not I should offer mine. It's not cut and dry and pretty complicated. When he had all his brothers and sisters offering it was good because that relieved me of any presumed responsability. Now that those won't work out I'm left holding the bag. I wish I knew my blood type. 'Cause if it isn't O then I don't have to worry. If I do have O then I have a pretty rough decision to make. The weird part is that I would rather be an anonymous donor. My relationship with my father is pretty -strange- so I'd feel really queer about offering. I dunno. I probably wouldn't pass the physco profiling anyway.
.
I caught a whiff of chlorine and really wanted to go swimming.

Hair

It's the hottest week of the year and Murphy's Law has rendered our car A/C down for the count. We've ordered o-rings to fix it but the $20,000 question is will they be delivered in time for the District Convention. I guess not. We will be melting in the sun while we wait the hour to get out of the parking lot at the end of each day. Misery. So if you see me sneaking out during the concluding song and prayer please note that I'm not a bad guy ---> I'm just a poor soul without AC wanting to get a jump on the parking situation.

Work has been dragging to match the rest of my life. The summer is flying by at the same time that my life has got me in a wheel. I'm going through the motions. The good is that I've finally got the backup software and tape drives working. I just have to remember to switch out the tapes every morning. The bad is that I've haven't been able to wake up to run.

I have a hair appointment tonight. It was kind of forced upon by the aforementioned DC. I prewarned the beautician that she had better book some time to work with me. She asked did I have an inch and a half of growth? I said expect the worse. You see, I was trying to be a rock star and the results are disasterous.

The bad thing about where I get my hair cut: It's really, simply just a matter of convienence. It's so easy, just a couple blocks from house but they only know how to give hoosier hair cuts. "Ask about our mullet specials!". It's really that bad. So bad that the gay hair stylist had to leave. But I keep on going there because I'm too lazy to find something out. Forever stuck in a rut.

"That's the story of my life, listen close I'll tell it twice

Dogge

And even now I have mixed feelings for the first ten years of my life. I am naturally sickened that these were spent at the end of menancing chain and I feel a natural revulsion as I remember eating rancid scraps off a dirt floor while being kicked and choked. But I also feel blessed, and I say this with no massochism. Any child born, especially back then, was fortunate to see their first birthday and I saw ten. Ten years. And that is where the mixed feelings come in. Because, as I see it, even life at its most rotten and horrible, is still life. A year spent living as a dogge is still a year spent.

I spent ten years being groomed. No, not brushed and powdered and tied with a bow because I knew of no such kindness or luxory. I spent ten years being trained. I was not taught any tricks or shown how to drag a fox out of hole. I was being shaped and molded because bigger things were to be thrown at me. The random spinnings would propel me toward the real revelation.

Log Rolling

I have a new hero, Darren Hudson from Nova Scotia. I watched him kick, spin, and balance his way to the silver medal in the ESPN Great Outdoor Games log rolling competition this weekend. Darren won me over because he was just so hyped up on log-rolling, "this is the most perfect sport ever" he proclaimed without any hint of irony. He comes from a long line of log rollers and believes that his family "indwells [sic] within him the spirit of the game". When he wasn't rolling or talking he was bouncing around on the platform, somewhere between ADD and strung out on cocaine. If log-rolling ever becomes a huge sport, Darren will be the first to land a Nike contract.

The ESPN GO games was an iteresting Sunday diversion while we were up in Madison, WI. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would, and almost as much as my Chipoltle burrito. While I share no dream that I'll ever see lumberjack sports in the St. Louis, I still have my fingers crossed that a Chipoltle francise will move in.

magarita

The paper cut on my pinky is killing me and this week is dragging on. Nothing like a coming off of a three-day weekend and struggling with the shortened work week. But I just ordered a pair of shoes so I'm perfectly positive Rebekah will be kicking my butt when I get I home -- hard. I was just simply inspired by a gift my sister got me (and there is nothing like throwing away money to raise one's spirits for at least an hour or two.) We are going to Madison, WI this weekend to eat cheese curds and watch lumberjacks toss logs and maybe (hopefully) drink some margaritas. My Friday ritual is fajitas and a margarita so big I could drown in it. My new hair got me some pretty cross looks at the Hall last night. It's still at the awkward growing out phase until I can get it cut right and proper. I really don't know what I want to do with up but I'm can say that I'm so unbelievably done with the late 90's "Friends" look but I'm not quite sold on the unkempt indie look. And I've been spending quality time with my daughter. We have this new game called "hooding" where she tries to suffocate me by draping a blanket on my head and sitting it while I try to watch TV. I'm raising a killer.

Wiggle Your Toe

Last night we had some pretty bad storms right at sunset. When it was happening the sky was glowing bright orange and being lit by multiple lightnings. It was cool to say the least.

I'm pretty enamored by Loretta Lynn's album Van Lear Rose. In case you haven't heard about it, it was produced by Jack White from the White Stripes - an interesting selling point. Rebekah dismisses it as too country but I'm really digging it. It seems to me to be punk-country. It has all the elements of good old country but with a dirty DIY, spitting and kicking spirit to it. My favorite song is Portland, Oregon, a duet sung by Loretta and Jack. The first line of the song goes, "Well Portland, Oregon and slow gin fizz, if that ain't love then tell me what is. uh-huh."

I saw Spider-Man 2. It had its entertaining moments, mainly the fight scenes and every scene where Peter Parker was being humiliated and kicked around. The movie suffered from the cheesy comic-book dialog. "Go get 'em Tiger" may be OK on a comic page but on screen it is a real groaner. And the popcorn sucked miserably.

I've actually made a good start on my second novel. I'm making it a point not to get too hung up on details. At the time I'm really just painting in broad strokes until I can flesh it out later. The amount of research needed is staggering. For instance which dog breeds were popular in England in the 1800's? Which were rare? Which were not around? But it's all coming together in my head nicely. It's nothing new. More of a reworking of various sources with my own slant thrown in to make it original or at least different.

And I can't help but to ask myself, "What's next?" After I write this novel, "What's Next?" I'm kicking around the idea of the ante-diluvian sci-fi novel. But that may be treading on too sacred of ground. First things first.

Now wiggle your toe.

Three Day

The past few days I've been dreaming of Stuart from Belle and Sebastian. Last night we exchanged religious literature.

I've decided to take the three day weekend and just stay home. With my increased work hours I need the time to just get caught up around the house and relax. That being said I need to avoid video games like a virus.

I've been having the most wonderful ideas about my next novel. It's all coming together in my head masterfully. I don't think it's at all cocky, but I know it will be so good. And I'm excited. It's a big sweeping historical novel told from an usual perspective. It's Dickens. It's Chaucer. It's Pepys.

arrrrrrg

My hair is unnaturally shaggy as I move from Queer Eye to Indie. I have to keep resisting the urge to get it cut.

I went for a super-long bike ride on Sunday with some of the younger kids from the hall. Edwardsville, IL has bike paths honeycombed all over it, most I had no idea existed. It was a fun cross-train and a break from running while strengthing some extra muscles and such.

I might have an empty 3-day weekend coming up and I'm trying to figure out what we are going to do, Madison, WI or Minneapolis, MN probably. It still has to be determined.

After a long period of time I've decided to seek representation for my novel. I guess I figure I might as well throw it out there and see if someone'll find it a home. I'm staring at an unfinished query letter. These things are ridiculously hard to write. HELP!

I'm leaving work early today. I can't take it any longer. I'll quote Charlie Brown, 'ARRRRRRRRG"

super baby

Most of the time the news just irritates and frustrates me but this week it has been entertaining.

Mary Kate Olsen has an eating disorder. No comment.

The first non-governmental space flight. It's so sci-fi that it is cool.

The german super baby. Did you hear about that one? It's incredibly X-Men. A baby was born with a mutation that has doubled his muscle mass and given him super strength. This had better not be a hoax because it is the coolest thing I've heard about in a long, long time.

It's all fluff news but I'm sick and tired and bored and disgusted with the Iraq thing. I enjoyed hearing about something else for a change.

old friends

We went to Southern Illinois over the weekend to see old friends, Casey and Robyn. They're moving to Florida on Tuesday and they have been trying to get us to visit for a long, long time. This was a last ditch opportunity so we relented and went.
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So we went to see Casey and Robyn but ended up staying with Bill & Cindy. Presumably because I fell asleep at their place Saturday night. It was all for the better, because Casey and Robyn are good in very small doses. They're one of those couples that are constantly bickering and fighting and making everyone uneasy. And when they're not fighting they're hugging and kissing and making everyone uneasy. That is to say they are really emotional.
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Going to Bill's is always comfortable because, well, because you basically just sit around drink beer and play video games. The same thing we've been doing for years. Nothing like beer and mario kart for a relaxing evening.

saturated

Well the family is back and I'm trying to spend time doing stuff with Mina. Important bonding activities like sword fighting. I have a fantasy that when she grows up she'll be a member of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad or something. It's important to have goals, y'know. And speaking of swords, Troy, our demolition manager, was doing work at an old store and found a lightsaber circa 1980, pristine with price tags, that got lost behind a shelf. He's giving it to me ---> geek, yes. ---> sweet, oh yea.
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I ran today and the world was so saturated it was unreal. It was like the colors had been turned up until they were bleeding into each other.
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I feel something.

weird, eventful week

The weekend capped off a rather weird, eventful week. I don't want to talk much about it.

I did go bowling Saturday night for the first time in . . . 10 years? Probably not that long. But I went to the college after being invited by some from the congregation. I bowled two poor games and then retreated to Dance, Dance, Revolution. My moves are stiff and unpurposed but I managed to beat the beginner's mode while I sweated off some pounds.

secretly suspect

Can I explain this? I feel dangerous . . .

It's all lucid.

Today was pretty productive.

I feel ambitious.

I feel young. I'm not.

I fed the fish.

I washed the dishes.

I read portions of my novel. (I love it, flaws and all).

I'm eating good. I'm running.

Oh yes, I'm running and I'll steal from myself and say this:

"Am I running towards something, or away from something?"

I'm drinking wheat beer with lemon.

I'm secretly suspect.

I'm dangerous.


Melissa Auf der Maur playing. It wasn't because the music was particularly good but it just seemed like a return to the kind of music I used to enjoy. Do you remember the whole Women in Rock trend? You had the Breeders, Juliana Hatfield, Hole, Veruca Salt, Belly, Throwing Muses etc. Over the last few years radio rock has been pretty male. All agression and jumping around the stage. Just so much overboard theatrics. Auf der Maur was still rock and somewhat spectacle (How can you not be when you look like Melissa.) but at the same time they reminded me of the 90's. I'm so old that I'm looking back at the good ole' days of music. Pathetic.

Rebekah is in Florida right now so my house is empty. But y'know something. I like it. I love it. I'm better off alone. Give me solitary confinement. It's sad.

Memorial Day Weekend pt 2

Total tick count is two - - so far. I went to the country for the weekend and all I have to show for it is a couple of parasites burrowed into my crotch.

I lie. I also have a nice beard. I'm a hairy bugger y'all. And I'm debating keeping the mustache. Yeah, I know, mustaches are really out of vogue (even Tom Selleck finally ditched his). But I ask this in all seriousness, aren't they due for a comeback? The time is probably right for one.

I once knew this guy who continued to wear bell-bottoms well into the eighties when straight legged (or even tapered legs) were the demin kings. He loved his mighty flared pants and hung tenaciously onto them until finally he had to cry uncle and send them to dump. A few months after he bought his first pair of straight legs, bell-bottoms were chic again.

And so you see the hardcore mustache wearers are shaving there's off in droves. Surely a resurgence is in order. So maybe I'll keep mine and play it off as a gag. I won't let anyone know I'm trying to be preliminarily fashionable. I have a mighty mustache and await the coming trend and hope in my heart that hairy chests are not far behind.

I just got back from the country and my unread e-mail count is 400+ messages. Apple's mail has tagged 300 of them as junk so I disregard those and begin reading the rest. As I begin to read the rest it's painfully clear that spam blockers have a long, long way to go. It's all junk-mail, most having to do with viagra. I assume viagra is now America's drug of choice. Sorry oxicotonn you'll have to be content with the silver.

Usually, I can send messages to trash bin after reading there giveaway subject line. But occasionally some miss this test and get read. Case in point: The subject line that read, "regarding your ministry training." I bit the hook and opened the message.

"Become a legally ordained minister within 48 hours

As a minister, you will be authorized to perform the rites and ceremonies of the church!

Perform Weddings, Funerals, Perform Baptisms, Forgiveness of Sins
Visit Correctional Facilities

Want to start your own church?"

I thought it was funny. In less than 48 hours you can become a minister? What have I been doing all these years?

In case you haven't heard my apple pie scored third in taste and dead laste in presentation. The pink lady apples make delicious dfilling. It was only my crust that caused it to lose. I lay the blame fully at baking instructions which told me to mix the topping until it resembled "wet sand". Wet sand? I did my best to follow the painfully obscure directions. Truth told, I didn't stand a chance because my aunt was really working over the judges. She took first place because of her secret ingredient, raisons. My secret ingredient, love, was just not good enough.

The talent show went off without a hitch. They went through a dull period but now they are really firing again. It didn't let me down. There was the token man in drag act and even a little black-face thrown in. This of course was my father doing a really bad Oprah impersonation. There was a hog calling contest, a claymation video, a judge-judy skit, and it closed with my uncle playing his sad country songs.

We had the family auction. The proceeds usually go toward maintenance and upkeep at the cabin but this time they were secretly being donated to my Dad to help with his medical bills due to his failing kidney. The "children's" book that I wrote and my sister Amanda illustrated and printed brought in over $300.00. It was embarrassing that it went for that much, as
it was filled with soggy sentiment and painful nostalgia. But in a way I feel good because I'm helping out my father in a small way.

I'm sorry to drone on but I must recount my Saturday morning run. It was going well and I was enjoying the change of scenery. However, I kept scanning the tree-tops waiting for a panther or something to pounce on to me. When I got to the end of the road, right before turning back five dogs came out of the woods. These were not miniature poodles. These were big, bad-a, country mongrels. They barked. I dropped to a walk. They growled. I didn't want to placate there primal urges and run. They would imagine me a gazelle or something and chase after me. I didn't let on that I was scared. I just ignored them and walked for a mile. Eventually they lost interest, thank the Lord, and turned back.

I'm done for now. I'll tell you about scrabble some other time.

Memorial Day Weekend

15 minutes and counting until my three-day weekend begins. We'll be spending it at our annual family reunion in Missouri. It's a redneck-fest if ever there was one complete with square dancing and apple pie contents. Admittedly it's only a pale reflection of what it once was. Which is to say that we no longer roast a hog on a spit.

But I'm prepared. I've got enough booze to kill a frat-house and my guitar.

I just want time off ---> now ---> now ---> right now!

Chinese Food

I ate Chinese yesterday from a trusted, reliable place that has never given me peanuts on the sly. This place, Hing-Wah, is a dive but the food is good. I usually carry-out but yesterday, with time to kill, I stayed in and ate for the first time. Without having anyone to talk to I just spent time looking around. There was the usual assortment of plastic Chinese decorations. A small ceramic Buddha sat on the counter, full of belly. A framed picture of a kitten hung slightly askew on the wall. Chinese decorations, Buddha - - - cat?. I saw these things while biting into a piece of "chicken".

My legs are incredibly fatigued. I had to bail early on my run yesterday morning so no telling how hard Saturday's "long-run" is going to be. Here it is Friday and I still h-u-u-u-r-t. I hope it's all in my mind.

I bought some drum mics in anticipation of the summer's recording season - - - > Rock and roll = happy.

Plasma Balls

It's the simple things that make life that much better . . .

Yesterday I made plasma balls in the microwave. Yeah, I know you'll want to do it to so here is how. You stick a toothpick in a piece of wax. The wax is just used for a base so the toothpick will stand upright. Next take a match and burn the toothpick until it gets charred. (Don't burn it all, just char it). While it's still hot and glowing (but not on fire) stick it in the microwave on high and watch the fun! It'll start humming and then launching plasma balls into the vent fan. The process by which this happens is still unexplained; however some researchers believe that this sometimes happens in nature and may be the explanation of some UFO sightings. It's cool.

. . .

Today Juliana Hatfields new album is released. I can't wait to get mine. Also there is the debut Paco album.

I came close to finishing our new song for(give/get) last night. I just downloaded it and the mix is too bassy so it sounds muddy. Back to the mixing board I go.

dreams

My dreams have become incredibly detailed as of late. They are filled with technical schematics and social policies.

and . . .

Are you ever singing songs at the meetings and realise that unless you are from the 1930's they are near impossible to sing properly. Try it out. Really throw on your best Judie Garland impersonation (early non-coked-out Judie Garland) and belt out the Kingdom songs next time. Warble and you'll nail it.

and . . .

Please help me win a microphone from the band Ivy. All you have to do is click on the following links. That's all. It's easy and for a good cause ---> Me and Rebekah's album. Hooray!

[links deleted]

paper boy

I was out running this morning with the paperboys and I suddenly had a flashback to the video game "paper-boy". It occurred to me if there ever was a lame premise for a game that had to be the best example. No fun in real-life. No fun in game-life. But then I remembered the Atari 2600 game "E.T." and had to retract my disdain.

Weekend Stuff

ow! Blogger has a slick new look. It even uses gradients which used to be a big www.no-no.

I'd like to say that I did something epic this weekend. I didn't. Here's what I did do:

Went on three seperate bike rides with Mina. One took us to the park and past a Chinese family making shish-ka-bobs on the grill. ---->

I made shish-ka-bobs. They were decent, but over cooked. Next time will be better. I got a lot of grill ingridients for the next week. It looks like it'll be all salads and grilled meats.

Rachel Johns had a graduation party in her back yard. It wasn't a lot of fun but it was good to go. She is going to Europe and I am envious.

Went to a book store. Went to a music store and picked up a couple used copies of older Juliana Hatfield albums. Juliana has really grown on me. I'm hopelessly 90's sometimes. I still need the one with "My Sister" on it so if anyone has a copy of it lying around, send it my way.

I played FF XI some, which is way too addictive. WAY TOO ADDICTIVE! Again, way too addictive.

Did my running program. I ran(walked) about 12 miles last week. It was a success in that I kept to my schedule. I haven't noticed any real improvements though but I'm sure they are coming.

Oh and I've been working on a 6a2 song called For(give/get). All that is lacking is a bass line and some backing vocals but the song in unbelievably HOT. It is pure radio Pop and while that in and of itself is nothing major it still feels like an accomplishment.

Race

You say extemporaneous speaking; I say winging it. Yes I was definately, "winging it" during my number 4 talk last night.

The ministry school conductor gave me a loaded gun and then told me not to fire it. More to the point I was given the theme, "Where did the various races come from?" and only a five minute time period to explain it and source material to stick to.

I've researched this subject to death as my personal Bible study begins with Genesis 1 and ends with Genesis 7. It was right up my alley. But I still learned some interesting things.

The idea of "race" is a racist concept if there ever was one and I'll be doing my part to abandon it's use. Science is proving that the idea is meaningless. The genetic difference between you and any other person in the world is around .2%. The difference between two white guys is .2%. The difference between a white guy and a black guy is .2%. Of that difference the part that we consider race, skin-color and eye shape only makes up .012%. For all intents and purposes there is no difference.

Yet we are indoctrinated with the idea that there are different races. It just creates an "us against them" attitude that continues to reer it's ugly head.

So if the Bible says that we just one race descended from Adam and Eve through Noah's sons and science says that we are one race descended from a common ancestor pair, why are we still clinging to the idea of "races"? If the term is meaningless, why continue to use it?

Going up on the stage I had a lot of thoughts, no notes, and a couple of scriptures jotted down. I proceeded to "wing-it" and listened for the sound of the airplane headed for the ground.

Running

blaze. the sun is blazing down. it's sad but we've skipped spring another year.

The ring and the pulse of the indiglo from my new Timex woke me up at 5:15am in the morning. I lay there in bed debating getting up, afterall it was a good hour earlier than my usual wake up call. But I talked myself into getting out, sliding into my trainers, and out the door. I hit the asphalt and did my scheduled 3 mile sleep walk/run which in my out-of-shape-langour took a good 45 minutes.

I'm glad I did because the sun would kill me if I did it now after work.

No pain ---> no gain ---> no game ---> It's my first exercise program.

Jeanette Winterson's published her new book, Lighthousekeeping, in the Uk. I'll be ordering it because I don't think that I can wait for the 2005 US release. I need a good book right now.

I'm tired . . . much too tired.

The best part about running is peeping in windows when I go by them. Maybe I have voyeuristic tendencies but nothing draws my interest like a wide open window and people inside. It's like an aquarium, just with people.

Oliver the Humanzee is just downright creepy.

Torture

When I saw those pictures of Iraq prisoners being tortured by Coalition forces I felt a natural sense of disgust and shame. I wondered how could anyone defend this kind of activity. Well this was the subject of a radio show yesterday and I was mortified as caller after caller called in to support our troops and justify this kind of gross abuse of power. The thoughts were that the military needs to do what it takes to accomplish a mission, to that this what these Iraqi people expect and that's how they should be treated. But looking at the pictures, this was not necessary business, it was fun and games. My new warehouse guy just got back from a tour in Iraq. I told him that envied him for getting to go over there and see those countries we can only read about it. He said yeah it was cool but it wasn't fun walking around fearing for your life and carrying a bullseye on your back.

Brandon came over and we worked a little bit on Mr. Tough Guy, the final song for the 6a2 album. I don't know how many Mondays it'll take to finish and refine all of these, but eventually it'll happen.

You want to know how impulsive I am? Very. I signed up to run a marathon next January. The mid-life crisis (yes, I'm only living to 50) is in full swing.

50 Foot Wave

What a jam-packed Saturday.

Since it was the first Saturday of the month we met at the Kingdom Hall for service arrangements instead of at individual book study groups. This usually provides a good opportunity to skip out and take the day off; but, I had a personal invitation from a guy to work with him so . . . I did ---> afterall it's new and improved Anthony.

After Service I had my running commitment that was totally trying to duck out of. I told the brother, "Isn't it too cold to go running?". He responded, "Oh no, 45 is the perfect running temperature." I looked out the window and asked, "What about the rain?" He smiled, "We'll wear hats." And so . . . I did ---> afterall it's the new improved Anthony

Of course I should enjoy running after I actually got out and did it. When I've ran in the past it has been around a track, alone. Running through the trails around the college and with company added a lot. Jim was cracking me up because he is the kind of guy that throws himself at everything he does, headfirst without regard for damage, be it talks, or running. He kept coaching me and analysing my form and questioning my shoe choice. Speaking of form, I've got to throw this in. He runs like a muppet. Grover, to be exact. "Neeeearrrrr - faaaaar". Yes, I'll do it again.

Afterward we headed out to Champagne, Illinois to catch 50 Foot Wave playing at the High Dive. It was a three-hour drive but probably the shortest distance we've ever driven to see Kristin Hersh play. Well it was supposed to be a three-hour drive but I took a wrong turn and ended up cruisin' toward Chicago or something. Once we figured it out we had to cut across farm-land and stray from the insterstate but we made it. (I think this may have turned out to be shortcut - if you figure in the speeding. I wish I had my rally car.)

First off the Highdive is absolutely incredible. It was a little more hip than the clubs I'm used to. Most of the clubs that I know of are seedy at best. Immediately we met Marie and Amanda from Decatur. Marie was bubbly and Amanda earthy but both were decent people to sit with and wait for a show. Amanda plays the marimba which I found totally fascinating. It was easy to make friends with them, possibably to a fault. Marie kindly asked us whether or not we would be interested in going outside to smoke some pot. Ha. "We're Jehovah's Witnesses we don't do that you know, but thanks." Yes we did get a little informal Witnessing time.

I also saw this guy that bore an uncanny resemblance to Jason Lee. Particularly Banky from Chasing Amy. I had to ask him if he was aware of it and yes he was. He thanked me for noticing. His name was Chris and he was neighbors or something to guy who runs parasol records.

The club was bare ---> pathetically bare when 50 Foot Wave took the stage. It was just me and Jon Lovitz (picture)and Rebekah up front. (You'd be amazed at how my love for people has grown when you see talking with my old archnemesis Jon Lovitz.)

50 Foot Wave was intense and loud. Kristin seems to be funnelling all of her aggression through her guitar instead of her voice, which I feel is dissapointing. In the past how she was singing and what she was singing was more important that what she was playing. Their song "Clara Bow" was the highlight for me, namely because it was the closest to Throwing Muses material.

Marathon Training

ow To Win Friends and Influence People round one.

After a week of reading bits and pieces of this book I went to the meeting ready to spring into action and put my new found skills to work. Would you believe that it actually worked? Incredible.

I approached a brother and said, "You know I hear that you've run marathons. That's really impressive. Someday I hope that I'll be able to do something like that."

Brother, "Wow! Let's start training this Saturday!"

So this Saturday I'm running with him, not that I want to, not that I look forward to it, but I kind of started this whole thing and I have to see it through. I fully understand that it means putting myself out a bit. And I'm prepared for that.

I fully intend to start showing love to people, witnesses and others. I fully intend to start being charitable and kind.

My objective in all this is not to wield influence over people. No, it's to be a Christian. Because I need to me. Because it's the best way of life.

peanuts _ love

My legs are aching and my wrists feel tight and my arms have a feint red blotch snaking up them.

On the way to work I saw two perfect rainbows in the sky framing the petroleum processing plants wheezing smoke. The oxymoronic nature of it was hysterical. The creation's of God vs the creation's of Man. I needn't state who won this little competition. Despite it all it's things like that keep me believing. Yeah, despite it all.

Some bad chinese food landed me in the hospital briefly yesterday ---> peanuts ---> again. I was driving when it hit me so I stopped in a fire house and asked for a lift to the hospital. They called an ambulance and started working me over with underused, atrophying first aid skills. My left arm was doused with blood when they tried to give me a drip line. The ambulance came and loaded me up on a stretcher and I couldn't help but to laugh about it. Well I would've laughed if my throat wasn't collapsing in on itself and my lungs were struggling to draw breath. But I looked at the paramedic and said, "This feels like overkill."

Cheers to men at the fire house though for giving it a good shot. Jeers to the nurse that told my wife, "Your husband shouldn't eat any more peanuts." Really?

I was sleepy because of the benydril so I napped and woke and played video games and then slept then woke with a song in my head. I went down to my now barren studio and hooked up a mic and quietly sung the melody and the words. It was one in the morning. I've written a lot of songs about a lot of girls but this is the first time I wrote a song to my wife. I asked her how she would feel singing a song about herself.

I feel a change coming on with me. My personality is changing so rapidly I don't know who I am anymore. But I feel so much love. Weird. Strange. I don't know when I quit loving. My mom claims it was when I was nine years old. But my (g)od it's been a while. It truely has. I could cry. I just want to curl up in the fetal position and just wallow in the goodness of it all.

Today I'm glad to be alive. Whatever life amounts to I'm glad to be experiencing it.

facelift

Please excuse the mess while I give my web-site a facelift. (I searched long and hard for an animated .gif of a jackhammer but couldn't find a stylish one.)

If you'll look in the corner there is a picture of me with my daughter, "blanket". When we go out in public I make her wear a dinosaur mask to protect her anonymity. It was a placeholder image but it has kind of grown on me.

The background image in the bottom and lower bars is of cherry blossoms. I went through a floral phase and I think I'm back in into it. I'm also back into pink.

I ditched the serifs. I'm really not going for readability so much as style.

I'm fighting against clutter. My life is so messy right now I want my blog to be somewhat pure. Distilled.

And it's true. Sadly, it's true what you've heard about me. As much as I hate to admit it, I am reading a book entitled How To Win Friends & Influence People.

But let me tell you. I value each and everyone of you. You make my life so much better. Even those of you who I just read about and haven't yet met.

Mina - Because her creativity is incredible, her intelligence limitless.
Rebekah - Because she keeps me in line and provides unconditional love and support.
Amanda - For being interesting and really talented, you make we want to get skills.
Tom - Thanks for always saying hello to me everytime.
Ryan - For helping me rediscover making music.
Brandon - For playing music with me. Your songwriting skills are awesome.
Steve - For giving me a good job and keeping me busy with interesting stuff.
Katie - For always having a smile.
Alicia - Her strength of character continues to touch me even after she's gone.
Casey - My cohort for untold projects over the years. Your attention to detail is admirable.
Derek - Your personality is enjoyable and your long, long fuse is amazing.
Hiromi - Your superb painting and web design ability is only matched by your thoughtfulness.
Reed & Janna - Your hospitality and friendliness still makes me smile.
Jason - For being an object lesson in how to be personable.
Carol - You went beyond doing your job and planted a seed that continues to grow.
Kim - Thanks for attempting to lift me out of a hole at the expense of your own wellbeing.

I'm gonna truncate this because I need to go back to work so if you didn't get mentioned don't feel bad. I'll get to you eventually.

rubbed raw

Yesterday I got the bright idea that I would try to clean my face. I mean CLEAN my face - - not just splash water on it and call it a day as per my normal morning ritual. I grabbed something that said Neutrogena Scrub out of the bathroom and set to work. However, the product in question was a body wash not a face cleanser and it although it said "scrub" it did not mean "scrub." But I didn't read it closely. No I charged head first into the wash basin and begin giving my face a real work out. The after effect was a kin to sandpaper on my nose. I'm sporting a mighty scab on it this morning. Just call me Lady Elaine Fairchild.

So I've been down ---> Y'know, life is constant peaks and valleys. Used to be the valleys were more numerous than the peaks but my situation improved and it was all up and up and up and up and skyward bound. But now I bottomed out. I know I have. I'm sad for no reason. No reason at all. Or am I?

Truth be told the band was the only thing keeping me moving. It gave me something to shoot for, look forward to, feel proud of. It was inevitable, Brandon's sister moved back into town and they are going to be doing their own thing again. I really can't fault him. If my sister moved back I would drop 6a2 in a heart-beat. But he dumped me. We're still going to finish the album, but he's coming over to load up his half of the equipment and that's, well, that's that. So if you missed our show. You missed out. Ha. I'll be like the divorcee looking around at my half-empty studio and wondering what went wrong. Yes, half-empty, not half-full.

But the truth is -- well the simple truth is -- well the fact of the matter is, I can't exist unless I'm creating. My happiness is linked with my creativity and unless I 'm moving on with something than I'm down and out and down for the count. Maybe that is why my Dial years were so bad. I wasn't doing anything but playing robot in a warehouse. I wasn't making anything but money and money can't buy happiness.


Anthony

abcde_ghijklmnopqrstuvwxy

My So-Called Life

My life. Lately I've been spending a goodly portion of it lamenting about my age. I need to try not to think about it.

The band is on a two week hiatus or something.

My novel draft is back in my hands after my sister had it for a while. I'm removed from it far enough that I can begin to edit it with a fresh mind. But before I do I need to read some history books dealing with similar themes. I will say this. The book needs to be streamlined so that everything is firing at once and moving along. It needs to move at the beginning and slow down at the end. It's too leisurely at the beginning and the end rushes. I need to make the themes pop out. This is not a story. It's an essay. An essay on addiction and faith (or the lack thereof) and life and endings (or the lack thereof).

game-day

Just mowed my grass - a hassle of homeownership to be sure. I can no longer ignore the brown grass in my yard. I'm gonna have to go old-man on it and seed and weed and thatch and edge. No fun but at least my yard'll have a Christian appearance.

Last night I really wanted a martini. Problem no gin, no vermouth, no money to buy either - - I settled for a 24oz can of Bud from the corner gas station. It even came with a hobo bag to carry it in. Well the beer led to another craving so I ordered a pizza. satisfied I went to bed around Midnight.

This Iraq situation is growing worse by the minute. Are we far off from a draft? It's times like this were I'm thankful for my asthmatic old body racked with scoliosis.

We practised our set three times through. It's clocking in a 3-minutes without witty in-between song banter and extended tunings. We've never played through perfectly so at this point I'm just gonna settle for no major mess-ups.

*** Spoilers ***


ATMOS - A good opener because I can use the "train" intro from the CD. Not really a 6a2 song. It was a song that Rebekah and I had for another endeavor that just sort turned into a 6a2 song. After this show I'm taking it back.

Conclusion - Good on the CD because of the chorus harmony. Live it's kind of sloppy. I have a hard time with the rythym. I don't like Brandons vox.

Dial Tone - Nice. When we hit this one it works. When we are off it's still decent.

Athens - Better than the recorded version. The guitar is so big. The bass grooves. The drums kick. And the synth is a massive dance anthem generator. Brandon's got vocal duties on this one. I wish I could've done it, but I'm doing good to play that loopy riff without screw up.

Dividing Sight - A simple little song that takes it down a notch. A nice change of pace. The whole song hinges on my last guitar lead. So when I do it right (40% of the time) it works.

Mr. Tough Guy - A new song that we haven't recorded yet. I talked Brandon into us playing it and I'm glad. It's a frenzy of rawk. Erin and Rebekah trade on the vocals. It's wild. The only fault is that sometimes we play so loud that it becomes hard to hear the beat and we lose our place. - ouch.

Forgive Forget - This song has improved considerably. It's 80's synth-pop blended with Avril Lavigne. Our most poppy - it soars! Brandon and Erin has this ridiculous dance during it. I've never seen it because I'll start laughing and lose my place.

[Cover Song] - Still keeping it a secret because I want my sister to be surprised when she hears it. I think we may have tried to play it over the years but never pulled it off. It's turning out. We haven't practised it as much. But it is the cover and cover usually sound sloppy and half-arsed. We're better than that. It's a huge closer.

House of Thai

I'm sitting in my house smelling ginger and curry, the remains of an earlier cooking disaster. For every four recipes I attempt, one is doomed to failure. Tonight a Thai inspired noodle dish fell short of looking like the picture - it had such promise. Really with ingredients like canned coconut milk how could I have possibly gone wrong.

Nirvana's been on quite a bit of programming this week. It's pretty wild that I know the lyrics to all the songs despite not being a Nirvana fan, or even owning a Nirvana CD. I think it was because of my friend's taste in music. When we were teens, Lee Michael played Nirvana - constantly. He had ten cassettes of Nirvana songs sequenced alphabetically. He used to play the drums on his dash and steering wheel while driving around listening to Smells Like Teen Spirit. Mike really loved Nirvana. In fact he once ran away and began camping out under a bridge because he had read that Kurt Cobain did that at some point in his life. Maybe that's why he started doing drugs as well.

I really wish Kurt hadn't killed himself. I know he would have totally sold out by now and it would've been so much fun to watch the people who worshipped him have their faith crushed.

I thought of a great super-minimalist redesign for the 6a2 sight in proper. Perhaps I'll throw it up after the show. Speaking of throwing up . . .

spring forward

It's 10:30 pm and I should be asleep but I'm still in fall back mode.

Saturday was interesting. We ended up dropping Mina off at Leah's and went to go see Bi-Level at The Pageant. We got in free because Brandon had been given something like 100 tickets to give away.

Bi-Level did their thing which is listenable but not my style. They are pretty talented. I'm so envious of people that can dance around the stage with their guitars without messing up. Bi-Level finished up and the second band came on with some fossilized bass player and a lead singer who dropped an f-bomb every other word in an attempt to be hard. The pit vacated quickly save for the bandmember's wives who started doing some boot-scootin' redneck bar dancing. That was our signal to leave. So we walked down the street for drinks and late night snacks at Blueberry Hill.

Afterward we bid the group farewell and went record shopping. Rebekah got a couple of pieces of new vinyl in anticipation of the record player Nathan is giving her. I found a couple of reasonably priced CD's: Mary Lou Lord and Blonde Redhead's new ones. Blonde Redhead is really listenable to me right now.

On the way back to our car we ducked back into the Pageant to catch the last group, Fourty 'Til Five. They were a hip-hop Eminem cover band that had their own material. By that I mean you could close your eyes and swear you were listening unreleased Marshall Mathers. They had the crowd bumping and grinding which at that time of the night the punk rockers had left and the joint was filled with Frat Boys and faux-hipsters. We hung out, sobered up a bit, and then drove home.

It was so late . . . When did we sleep 2:00 am ? 3:00 am? Time changes are throwing me off.

I woke up Sunday and we made breakfast. It's some Jaime Oliver recipe where you basically toss a bunch of items (sausage, tomatoes, eggs, mushrooms) into a pan and fry them all together. Good stuff.

Spent part of the day (a really, really large part) programming the drums for the secret cover song. It's incredibably difficult trying to duplicate a real drummer. I know I've got some mess-up's but it's pretty close. I'll mask my errors under a 808 kit or something. But it's ready. Two more practices before the show - - help!

We went to the memorial. We didn't get invited out to eat - again. I know it's not supposed to be a social event but it is and so getting left out of the festivities is not fun - not fun at all. It was all Taco Bell for us . . . Taco Bell and the sad life of a B-List Witness.

tired

I came into work late today - real late. Rebekah and I did the radio show last night which was a weird, awkward experience. I hope no one taped it for posterity - because - because I'm not good at talking and I'm sure I came across like a fool - or worse. But I'm pretty tired.

I bought a new toy, an electro-harmonix Double Muff guitar pedal. I've been looking for a distortion/overdrive pedal for a little while. I couldn't decide between a Big Muff or a Proco Rat. This unit falls somewhere in between. I'm really enjoying it.

Oh yeah, one more thing, I think we decided on a cover song . . . I'll leave it as surprise for the April 10th show.

I fought in a war

Friday band practise was incredible. We ran through the set and then dove into building Brandon's new one Tough Guy. This was made to do live. Brandon wrote the guitar part so it has a punk rock edge to it - but it gets tempered by the synth. We all added something to it. Rebekah does these nice harmonies to Brandon's vocals. Erin (our utility player) is absolutely, vicious for the chorus. I requested a cheerleader-esque clap, chant breakdown (shades of Toni Basil). The whole package is pretty much overwhelming. So even if people want to carrying on during the rest of the set they will not be able to ignore this one.

This week on the band front we have more practise and Wednesday night (actually Thursday morning) we're going to be making an appearance on KDHX's Deep Trance show. Shhhh. Don't tell them that we aren't trance.

Saturday - Anthony vs. the toilet round 3 (?) . . . 4 (?).

I'm starting to lose count. If you'll recall I fixed the leak in my toilet and considered it case closed until three days later is started to overflow. I went to tighten the toilet bolts and screwed it up again. The problem is that my soil pipe is lower than the floor so I had to rig it with more extensions than a ghetto salon That turned out to be a bad move. So anyway, I lost my patience and my mind and came within inches of calling out a plumber. Keeping in my that it was a Saturday night I was ready to blow my tax refund on an emergency weekend call out. But then I figured out a better way to rig it and so now it works again. I'm optimistic that this'll be the last time but who am I?

Casey and Robyn were supposed to come over but I cancelled because of the toilet. It's hard to entertain people when they have to drive down the road to use the facilities at McDonald's. After I got the toilet fixed, Rebekah and I went out to eat and then took in a movie - Jersey Girl. The ending was one cliche after another but it was more or less enjoyable.

Sunday - Went to the meeting. The brother was giving the, "God's View of Sex in Marraige" talk. He was pretty balanced and it was much better than I've heard in the past. We went to Home Depot to price cabinets to see if we couldn't come closer to finishing the kitchen. Casey and Robyn came by after their assembly. We took them out to eat Messican. It was good, clean, fun.

just some stuff that happened

We had band practise last night - Everything is sounding so full and loud and wonderful. We are tightening up and projecting a great big wall of pop. To quote Pizzicato Five, "Catchy, catchy, catchy, catchy."

We tried to learn two new songs:

a.) "Forgive/Forget" - This song is pure, unadulterated pop rock. A sweet garage version of Avril or Mandy. A great big piece of candy (or crack). We will end on this one and leave them wanting more.

b.) "Nuclear Winter" - On tape this is our most involved synth piece. I really like it and had hoped that we could work in into the set but it doesn't look like it's going to happen. It is just too complicated to pull off without resorting to prerecorded DAT pieces or bringing the laptop on stage - and that aint gonna happen. So this song was ex'd.

--

I also had one of those life altering revelations. Y'know where you are forced to chuck out the whole paradigm that defined you up to that point. It's kind of scary. For years you have this comfortable nest of your own ideology. This is who I am. This is what I believe. The nest is occasionally shaped and it grows and it changes as you get older. But sometimes the winds come and your nest is destroyed and you are left looking at the pieces and trying to figure out how, or if, it can go back together.

I'm reminded of the Japanese after they had lost World War II. It was an unthinkable thing that their divine emporer could fail them. Their sense of identity was crushed.

At first I felt kind of bothered but now I actually feel empowered. What do you do with the knowledge? Do you use it as an excuse or a stepping stone? I'm using it as an excuse to build a better nest.

Mr. Toughguy

Spinning . . . This weekend was a waste . . . a wash . . . My "blah" attitude from the previous week carried over into the weekend. Bummer.

Saturday I fought to redo the toilet in our house. It started leaking again. I cursed and I kicked and I bought wax rings and then tried some fancy gadget until eventually it dindn't leak. So the bathroom is safe. But for how long?

I did have enough time to go over to The Red Spoon coffee house in Alton, IL to see my cousin's band, Yorktown Heroes play a set. I've been meaning to get over and see them for a while. The music wasn't might cup of tea but they were spirited and listenable. The highlight of the night was a girl in an 80's prom-dress that was bore an uncanny resemblance to Molly Ringwald.

Sunday Brandon came over after the meeting. He's been sitting on what he feels is a hit song. I finally told him to come over so that we could figure it out because we need all the good songs we can get for the live show. It's call Mr. Toughguy and the chorus is, "Go . . . Mr. . . . Tough . . . Guy!". It looks ridiculous on paper but on tape it's pretty good.

We're scheduled for a radio show this Wednesday from 12:00am to 2:00am. I really want to do it because I know it'll help get people to come to the show but there is a huge sleep issue.

. . .

ignorance is bliss

i'm a victim of the information age

where I live

I did my taxes last night. What a mess! The US should just levy a set percentage on your income and ditch the maze of deductions and credits.

I just read this comforting thought about asthma and metropoliton areas. It's nice to know that I'm living in one of the worst areas for my condition. I really would like to move but I can't quit this job so more and more I live for the day I'll get fired.

This 19-year old male intern just pitched me because I wasn't wearing green. What is this? Grade school?

I impulse bought a new toothbrush. I'm giving it huge thumbs up. I've reduced the effort it takes to brush my teeth in the morning by half - - and my teeth have never looked better. Score.

Prejiduce

I really want to have acupuncture done on me. Not for any particular reason - just to try new things. Well there are dozens of people doing it in the area; but I want it done proper. I don't want some ex-hippy jabbing me with needles because he's into alterna-health. I don't want some balding chiropractor sticking me because it's the trendy thing to do.

Give it to me hardcore.

I want some old oriental man to stick me with needles. He should have a milky eye and give me a complimentary mogwai with each visit. He should liberally use words like chi while expounding the aphrodisiac qualities of ground rhino horn. After he turns me into a pin cushion he should yank some chicken guts out of me and call it diseased tissue.

Give it to me hardcore.

- -

We had practise last night. We developed Athens Circa '99 for our live show. It has taken on a groovy new life - dance floor anthem.

Electric Connection

It's time for more my long-winded weekend recap. We'll start up with Friday evening--

Mina is closing in on the conclusion of My Side of the Mountain so we planned to go to Borders and pick up her next bedtime chapter book. Each time we finish a book it becomes more and more difficult to find something suitable to read to her. We have already exhausted the Little House, Ramona Quimby, and Judy Moody series. So it's a lot of leafing through the bookshelfs and pulling out books based on the cover. But then you flip them over and they are summarised as:

"Janette is a thirteen year old going through a rough time. Her mother has just died of AIDS leaving her with her alcoholic, verbally abusive father. But one day she meets a homeless, heroine addict searching for his lost kitten. Janette knows her life is about the change . . . but for the better?"


or

"Paul and Lydia wake up one day and they are magically transported to the lost Kingdom of Baal ruled by the evil Sorcerer Lucifer. Together with their new friends an egnimatic troll named Beezlebub and faerie Ashtoreth they set out to free the kingdom from the evil spell put upon it."


Saturday my father came over and was helping me install a new electrical service in my house. Working with electricity scares me. My dad doesn't instill me with a lot of confidence. As he's hooking it up some high-voltage wire he says, "Now if I get caught up in this don't touch me. Get a pole and knock me loose." We got the new service up but our basement is a mess of hanging wires. Room by room I'm going to go through and sort it out and rewire as neccesary. The spring home improvement season has started in earnest.

Saturday night was Ben and Nicki's wedding. They had a pretty nice reception. The decorations were pretty sharp. Each table sported a glass bowl and a blood-red beta fish. Inevitably as the night progressed and the kegs were drained we would pair up the fish for fights. The highlight of the night was seeing some of the older ones in the congregation dancing to Ice Ice Baby - - classic. I'll dance without drinking. When I drink I get sociable. So I relish these occasions. I washed down two paxils with some dodgy macrobrewed beer and worked the room.

I talked to this kid who is working on starting Spanish congregations in the area. He was telling me there was a real need for brothers in the groups and congregations. Since the Mexicans are illegal immigrants they can't get privaleges in the congregation. So I briefly considered what he had to say. It may be my only shot at getting appointed.

I talked to Sam Grey who looks and talks just like Quintan Tarantino. He is basically the only one from St. Louis who missed getting disfellowshipped. He is a pretty cool guy.

During the night we (Rebekah and I) had noticed this girl's hair. It had some nice streaks and was styled nicely. So later on I thought it might be a nice idea to compliment her.

"Nice hair."

"Is that sarcasm?" She snaps back.

And then I went back into my shell - Recoil.

Sunday we went to the meeting. Went to Quizno's - They've got a pepper bar. Went home and watched School of Rock. I'm not a Jack Black fan but the movie was fun.

. . .

Early Morning Madness

I've got my morning routine pretty much down these days. Wake up (the obvious step 1) and role out of bed before jumping in the shower. I will shower for however long it takes to wake up. Sometimes I find that I'm dazing in and out of sleep while standing in the shower. Sometimes I'll talk to myself. Awakened, I get out and fix (for lack of better term) my hair, shave, and then dash off to work usually forgetting something -- money, my wallet, my phone. At work I make coffee and check my e-mail. I'll delete approximately three e-mails offering penis or breast enlargement, five e-mails from my virus software saying they've blocked the Sven virus, and a couple e-mails so garbled in an effort to avoid the wrath of spam blocker that they can't be read. And then I drink my coffee. The first time each morning when I bring the cup up to my mouth and I inhale the aroma I'm reminded of Super Sugar Crisp cereal.

And sometimes in and around this early morning routine I'll have leaps of creativity which border on insanity. This morning in the shower I was considering the angels and what form they must take in their natural abode. I thought on it and then surmized that they should look like single-cell organisms. The single-cell angels would lack mitochondria and couldn't exist independent from a power source for long. This would create a clear succession of life from the beginning (angels) to the end (man). Each creation being a prototype for the next. It sounds like evolution but at each end of the chain you have very complex beings. - - So I'm not saying that this is true. I'm simply saying that sometimes in the morning I have some pretty crazy thoughts. How fitting that I should talk to myself!

--

Snack night was pretty good if a little too heavy on the desserts. That Indian-spiced chicken I brought was insanely hot; but the yogurt based dip cooled it enough to make it palatable. I was happy with it but it was exhaustive to make. Sometimes I think that Bon Apetit adds unnecessary steps to their recipes to make them seem more impressive.

I'm a Chick Magnet

Last night we had a productive practise. We learned two songs and practised the two that we learned last week bringing the total up to four. I'm pleased with the progress considering the coordination involved with all the instruments.

Tonight we are having "snack-night" at the Book Study as a send-off to the book we are finishing. (As a side note: Perhaps there would be better attendance if we renamed them "book club".) Of course I have to go overboard with snack night. I think because Rebekah and I don't entertain I don't have the opportunity to cook for anyone I seize these opportunities. So tonight I'm doing Indian-spiced chicken kebobs with cilantro chutney garnished with english cucumber, lime, and Boston bibb lettuce. If the food sucks at least the name is impressive. (Mental Note: Make name card to decorate dish.)

So I went shopping late last night for the ingredients to make the aforementioned dish. While in the produce section I was approached yet again by a *middle-aged foreign woman. She comes walking up to me with some sort of a weird squash and asking me what it was. To which I could only shrug and say, "I'm sorry." (Note to Single People: Hang out in a supermarket produce section.)

Seeing Bands

I go through phases. Sometimes I'm in an indie cinema phase and every weekend I'm driving to the Tivoli to check out the latest. I guess now I'm in a band phase and going out to see shows. And not because all my favorites happen to be touring or something. I find myself just going - to go - or something. This weekend I made two attempts to see Polarized Mind play. I had asked them to play with us on 4-10 and I was curious about their live show.

Attempt 1: Brandon and I drove all the way out to Festus, MO to a joint called the Local Scene. We got there and found that the show was cancelled as the club had been closed by the police earlier that evening. So I guess it wasn't a place we would want to be at anyway so perhaps it was good thing that it was shuttered. On the way back home we stopped by The Ground Floor to see if anything was going on.

We walked in and this band was just setting up. They looked really cool. They had all this vintage equipment and a tone of synthesizers on the stage. However, from the first notes of the first song Brandon and I had one thought, "Radiohead". This band didn't so much play the synthesizers as they used them to make noise while the lead singer crooned over a fractured guitar. It was like a bad radiohead cover band that played their own material.

Attempt 2: Mina was at the Grandparents so Rebekah and I drove out to Wentzville to try to see Polarized Mind at a venue called the "Midwest Music Pit". Before hand we stopped off at Seki to get dinner. While we were sitting there eating a couple walks in, the lady looks something like Nelle Carter says, "What is this? Chineese?" The little Japanese server says, "No, japanese". The lady huffs, "Ah na. I can't do that sh - -." and turns around and walks out.

So we got to the Midwest Music Pit which is so bleedingly hoosier that it was unbearable. I'm talking twelve year olds in tube tops smoking cigarettes, trashy. Band member's mothers flashing devil signs and moshing, trashy. The first two bands were very metal. All their songs went something like, "RAR, roar, rar, rar, roar, $#%#! You!"

Finally Polarized Mind came on and the place cleared out leaving ten or so people left. I enjoyed their show

Food Addiction

I've been thinking about addiction again. Specifically food addiction. I think it is most common addiction and plagues most people. However, it is rarely seen as addiction - "You have to eat right?"

A person in good health can go from 30 to 40 days before they begin to starve. However, let's not talk about the limits. Let's reduce it to 1 week. A reasonably healthy person can go one week without eating. The question is, "Can you?"

Most people I know can't go a few hours without eating something. I'm reminded of cigarette smokers who count down the seconds until they can light up again. Junkies waiting for a score.

But are you addicted?

If you do go a few days without eating you'll have withdrawal and feel the need to eat. This will become very strong. But here is the odd thing. A person will feel as if they are starving but in their minds they will turn up their nose as the thought of eating broccoli or cauliflower. No you want to eat cookies, a burger and fries, pizza - comfort foods.

But I'm so "hungry", I'm "starving"!

I think about those old cartoons where a person gets so hungry they eat a shoe. It's played for comedy but it contains a kernel of truth. If you are literally starving you'll eat anything. If it gets bad enough you might eat leather.

What most people associate as hunger is actually withdrawal cravings. True hunger feels similar to thirst. You feel it in the throat not the stomach. Very few of us have actually felt that.

I ask, "are you hungry or addicted?" Am I?

Productivity

And somewhere in between I managed to write a new 6a2 song.

And somewhere in between I took a lunch. McDonald's is phasing out the "super-size" so I got one for one last time. I usually don't even "go large" but I just had to get a big huge killer (literally) order of fries while I still could.

And then I went to the meeting. It's funny how our book is already outdated. It talks about the cry of "peace and security" as a definite future event while a newer magazine (February? March?) says that it could've already happened. Also they had that question about how you knew the prophecy recorded in Timothy regarding the "time of the end" applies to our day. Well I went off on it. I must of answered it three times and basically ranted about road rage, school shootings, corporate criminals, and arrogant, opinionated people on radio talk shows.

P.S. I just found out Rebekah's brother is getting to tour Japan in late March. First Christina Aguilera and now this! I'm officially jealous of somebody I never in my life thought I'd be envious of.