Now Playing

Sunday afternoon I headed (predictably) to Atlanta to get an accountant I know to look at my taxes. Although the money portion of taxes is disturbing at best, the unnecessary (and I believe deliberate) complication of the paperwork is the most troublesome to me. Fortunately, there are people in the world who understand taxes, and even seem to take some twisted sort of pleasure in their completion. I suspect it's a God Complex. In a world where only death and taxes are certain, I suppose the only people who get God Complexes are medical doctors and tax professionals.

Aaaaaanyway. After my tax activities and an all-too-brief amount of socializing with Russ and Ellen, I am back in my native Nashville working my ears off and loving it.

Speaking of ears, on Thursday I will take my little computer and get on an airplane. That airplane will take me to Orlando, Florida. My brother will then pick me up in an SUV and I will spend the better part (if things go well) of five days at Disney World. I suspect that most of my time will be spent watching my nephews enjoy themselves, but maybe I can talk someone into sneaking over to Carousel of Progress or Small World or something cool like that.

For the record, I actually like Disney World way more than you would ever think I do.

Lastly, I always like to know what music my friends are listening to at any point in time. After finding out, I then like to tell them what I am listening to, completely overanalyze it, talk about its greatness like it's going to change the future of humanity, and then spout off some theory or lyrical gobbledygook that no one but me gives a shit about (which is Reason Number 7 Why Brett Is Single).

So instead (with apologies to Stacy's sidebar, the Random Ten at Hey Jenny Slater, and almost every user of LiveJournal), I've decided to tell you what I'm listening to every now and then. The initials P.S. stand for Post Script. The initials N.P. stand for "Now Playing." Join me if you like, or just read mine.

N.P. - The Police: "King of Pain"
P.S. - What the hell?

The things you think are useless I can't understand

On one of my trips to Nashville in the spring prior to my moving here, I happened to catch a few minutes of "Jimmy Kimmel Live." I saw a segment on the show that had me laughing to the point of mild abdominal pain, and I didn't get to see it again until I moved.

In spite of my newfound disdain for most of television, I will go to great pains to see this segment which appears every Friday night on the show. Most of you in the Atlanta television market (which is, eh, about 65% of you) have never had the chance to see it. So, for your viewing pleasure, here is an extended example of "This Week in Unnecessary Censorship." It's one of the only things that can still make me laugh out loud. The indecency is only implied, so it might be safe for work depending on where/if you work. It would be safe for Javier.



You can see more of it here or here. And of course, it's on many ABC stations; just not the one in Atlanta.

The things you think are precious I can't understand

With the exception of a very few shows that I really want to devote time to actively watching, I have recently begun to leave the television off. I am not watching anything that I didn't want to see before it started. I am not leaving the television on when I am not watching it. In the brief few days since I began this, I have been stunned to find out how stupid I am when that box is telling me:

- What to think
- How soon the world is likely to end
- How Jesus helped determine the outcome of several Super Bowls™
- How prophetic “Oops, I Did It Again” seems to have become
- How many news anchors can say “Britney Shears?” and continue to think they are clever
- How deserving of sympathy Anna Nicole Smith was
- How Nancy Grace is a candidate for fourth-in-command in the upcoming expansion of the trinity
……. and ………
- How toenail fungus is probably going to be my demise.

Now that tv isn’t telling me how miserable my life is, I seem to have forgotten. Television tops the list of things I have recently decided to ignore. But it’s the only one I care to share right now. I feel a little like I have taken the red pill.

3-D Bullets over Norwich

In order to more evenly use the internet, I am moving tonight’s entry from its normal spot to the sort of virtual equivalent of a spare room. To suffer through this evening’s contribution, please click here and scroll to the last place you see my name (“Brett”). For the sake of cleanliness, please comment back here. I wouldn’t want to get carried away or anything.

Memo from UGA

This message is severely truncated in order to make it look worse. Nevertheless, you have been warned.

TO: Faculty, Staff, and Students
FROM: UGA Office 0f Security & Emergency Preparedness
SUBJECT: Statewide Severe Weather Drill P0stponed

We have today received notification from the Ge0rgia Emergency Management Agency that the statewide tornad0 drill will be rescheduled from Wednesday, February 21 to Friday, February 23 due to the threat of severe weather in northwest Ge0rgia.

It was a big weekend here in the Music City. Will and Natalie came by Saturday evening for a drink and a few laughs. Besides the good company, we got to take my Civic through the snow to the local Papa J0hn's. I also got to bounce a few tunes off of them, which is always very helpful. They also brought whiskey.

I spoke with Gunner on Sunday evening, and I can confirm that he is alive. He says hello and promises to blog soon. There has apparently been some weather up there or something, but I wasn't really listening when he was talking about that. Anyway, here is a picture that he sent and didn't give me permission to share. I don't see what the big deal is.



Also... Gunner. Russ just realized that you have his DVD's of Sp0rts Night. And since Studi0 60 is about to be cancelled, he will be needing those for his S0rkin fix before too long.

Does anyone else need me to tell Gunner something?

It snowed here this morning for the third time in a week, but it just barely accumulated. Nothing pisses me off more. It either needs to snow or not snow, but not sorta snow. I am glad I am not in the northeast right now, but still. I guess I have to write a letter.

For a number of reasons and none that is terribly specific, this has been a really good week. I'll see if I can't repeat the feat. The Homines Sapientes of Memphis are in town, and will be joining me for numerous activities this afternoon and evening. I'm sure that I either will or will not have details.

... and then moments ago, I was faced with the reality of why c0untry music is the bastard stepchild of p0pular music today. I took a moment away from finishing a show and turned my attention to Wheel 0f F0rtune, where the contestants were paired with their favorite c0untry music artists.

The artificial blonde woman on the left with extreeeeemely spiked hair was teamed up with Wyn0nna. The categ0ry was "same name." The puzzle as it existed at the time was as follows.

O---ESTRA
& -EACH --T

The solution is obviously "Orchestra and Peach Pit." Well, that's not quite what the contestant came up with. She came up with "Orchestra and Beach Nut." Of course the term for one obsessed with the beach would be would be "Beach Bum."

"Beach Nut" would be a homonym for "Beechnut," one of America's leading chewing tobaccos.

...and the stereotype is preserved. Thank you, ma'am.

If only I had arrows rather than bullets

• Today was another of those super-productive days. I need many more of these very quickly.

• I took quite a bit of time off from the gym after the holidays, and only today really got back in with any sort of enthusiasm. I'm glad I did.

• Looks like Studi0 60 isn't going to make it. I'm pretty sure everyone's seen that coming. It became obvious the day it got really good.

• I have somehow still managed not to move to the new blogger. Now that I've said that, they are sure to hunt me down.

• My travel locations for the spring are pretty well set: Orlando (personal), NYC twice, Chicago twice, DC once, and Charlotte once.

• I probably shouldn't even put this here, but I am anyway. Bowling Green wrote tonight, and she's getting married. Though the feeling is unjustified, I am more than a little freaked out by that.

• Somehow, I have gotten really good at maintaining an extra thing of deodorant at the house since I moved to Nashville. I was never good at that before. I would have to fly by Kroger on the way to the band room once every few months before. I realize that is disgusting.

I am not going to be my normal asshat self about Valentine's Day just because it doesn't seem to apply. I hope those of you who are celebrating it have a great time, and I hope the rest of you didn't pay too much for your handle or your mixer.

I workshopped a tune tonight. Some of you will remember half of a song of mine about the conversations and thoughts that can be overheard in the average bar in America. I recently wrote most of the rest of it, and decided to take it to a group of writers in town that I trust for feedback.

To me, one sure sign that you're onto something or onto absolutely nothing is when no two people can agree what needs to change or stay the same. It is always a big thrill to get my sheets home, to read one person's complaint about a line, and then to read another person's comment that tells me to keep the line that is the subject of the previous person's complaint exactly as it is. My current disposition of the problem is that the song "must be thought-provoking." I'm sticking with that for now.

One thing that bugs me (and the reason that I don't workshop a lot) is that it is very difficult to find a balance between confidence and the willingness to learn and accept criticism. I suspect that one of the great skills of people involved in creative pursuits is to learn what criticisms to apply and what criticisms to acknowledge and then set aside. I don't suppose you ever really know that. One probably just continues to guess. I'm sticking with that for now as well.

I have no idea how to feel about the Chicks, but I'm pretty sure the music industry just gave my current place of residence the finger.

Some dull cheerleaders and band types

Remember. If you fall, roll.

Stolen from Brad, via Facebook.

There are many like it but this one is mine

I have had two military-related dreams of late.

• In the first, I was a soldier lying on the ground in the corner of a field that, in retrospect, looked an awful lot like Legion Field (sans stage). I was one of a squad of eight or so, six of whom were lying beside me. Two soldiers were standing above the rest of us, their guns by their sides, facing another squad of friendly soldiers who had their guns aimed at our squad.

As I cowered in fear, the sergeant said, "Ok men, you're done. B@wcum, your turn." So I stood up, picked up my gun, and faced the other squad. The sergeant yelled at me, and told my to put my gun down. I turned to him and said, "What? Do you expect me to just stand here unarmed and face these men with their weapons fixed on me?"

"Yes," he said.

At this time, another squad came down the hill (like the stairs by Bolton) and aimed at us as well. I stood there and imagined the bullet hitting me, hoping it wouldn't. I heard a shot ring out. I felt a bullet hit my shoulder. Then I woke up.

I think there is probably something symbolic behind that one that I'm not going into here.

• In the second dream, I was apparently a new Marine. I was wearing fatigues around Midwest. I saw Gunner across the lobby in the Hilton (where the Christmas tree is). He was wearing fatigues and carrying a man's handbag. He gave me this boy-are-you-in-for-it kind of look, approached me, and then laughed like he does when you crack him up while he's smoking. He told me to have my fun for the rest of the day, but that the "meeting" and "initiation" would be on Thursday at 2:00. He also said that I should be prepared to get wet. He also said that, although they would not be tying my feet, that I would need a "strong upper body to survive."

Then, Jason Gwinn arrived, also in fatigues but carrying his trombone. He just screamed at me at the top of his lungs in the middle of the Hilton, "That's right, you motherfucking faggot!!!!"** Gunner looked at him with no smile at all, then me, and lifted his eyebrows while tilting his head to his right as if to say, "Well, he's got a point." Gunner followed Jason as he walked out the front door onto Michigan Avenue to get a cab.

And then I woke up.

** For those of you who didn't know Jason, this was just kinda how he talked... and probably still does.

Dave

I have been watching him since I was 8 years old.
I hope he never quits and never dies.

piffed - adj. - Angrier than "miffed," but not as angry as "pissed."

Coined by Russ when speaking openly about his emotions (and I think he had been drinking).

Edit: Oh my God. On-the-ball or sober readers will remember that I originally listed "piffed" as a noun. Jordan astutely points out that it would actually be an adjective, and I feel as though I graduated from a directional school.

I'm thinking this is probably Jordan S. from UGA, and not Jordan McDeere.

Then, just when you least expect it...

A post without a title (shit!!!)

• I have given 30 R0ck a chance lately, and I think I like it. I am thinking Russ will disagree with me.

• Speaking of Russ, I had a dream the other night that he came after me with kitchen knives. I am thinking of hiding all of the utensils the next time I stay at their home.

• One of the shows I am writing right now (no, Alan, not yours) is driving me crazy. It is misery, and I'm ready for it to be over with. When I say I have about two-and-a-half minutes left, I wish I meant that literally.

• It is amazing how it rains when it pours when it comes to money. Along with 1099's from way too many places, the last two days have also seen the discovery of four fraudulent credit charges and one significant erroneous debit card charge. For their "help" in my attempts to rectify this and clear up other charges which are no longer necessary, I would like to thank:

- Pricestore.com (Motto: "Any credit card number will do, as long as you are happy."). Thanks for checking the security code on the credit card numbers you charged for some subscription that you can't even identify. Oh wait.
- XM Radio (Motto: "I understand that you no longer have an XM Receiver, but we have several special deals that you may want to take advantage of.") Thanks for hanging up on me, then giving me shit as I tried to cancel my subscription. Thanks for making me resort to "If we can't do this quickly then I will purchase Sirius when I get back into sattelite radio." Everyone knows how I love to be nasty like that. Asses.
- The Mulberry Inn - A Holiday Inn Hotel
601 East Bay Street
Savannah, Georgia 31401
(912) 238-1200
Fax (912) 236-2184
mulberry@princebush.com
(Motto: "I didn't hear a word you said, but we'll take care of that, sir. Enjoy your stay.")Thanks to the Mulberry for not following my instructions to charge my personal debit card instead of my business debit card. The overdraft fees that result from the sheer incompetence of your front desk staff sure were a treat when I discovered them when checking my accounts today. Neat!
- Bank of America (Motto: "How can I be of service to you today, other than by doing something helpful?") Special thanks to you for 1. Not giving a damn when I told you about the four (4) fraudulent charges on my credit card and 2. Not bothering to notify me about the overdrafts in my business account when you have my email and INSTRUCTIONS TO NOTIFY ME IN THE EVENT OF AN OVERDRAFT. Guess that sorta defeats the purpose of running one's business account dry at the end of the year, huh?

• The strangest development of all has come about as I have realized that things aren't good. Song-wise, I have written as well or better than I have in years. Maybe the people who live in their cars are onto something.

Thank God everyone went to the grocery store last night.