So I decided...

this weekend, based on the thoughts leading up to my last entry, that it was probably time for me to go do some stuff - anything to get out of the house and experience something other than work and the continuation of habits. I'm glad I did.

• If you like smart, funny movies, I think you will love Little Miss Sunshine. It's ridiculously well written, the whole cast is great, and Alan Arkin made me piss in my pants. I laughed out loud over ten times in the course of this film, and that has to be a record for anything I have seen post-Dwight.

• I went to the local art museum on Saturday to see an exhibit of Pulitzer Prize-winning photographs. One of them was the most depressing picture I have ever seen. I am glad I saw it, but it brought me as close to becoming physically ill over a photo as I have ever been. See it here (go ahead, it's not graphic per se), and make sure to read the story that surrounds and follows it.

When we're not at our best, this can be a sick fucking world.

• Speaking of sick fucking world, look at what hit myspace over the weekend.

What's left of the Long, Pensive Entry

Ehhh… I’m pulling the emergency-stop cord on the long, pensive entry. As I wrote it (4 days worth!) I realized that I only needed to write it so I could figure out, um, where I am, er, whatever. Once I wrote it, I realized that it completely sucks to read, not to mention that there are people in the world who make $100 per hour to listen to people say stuff like that. I don’t have that kind of money.

So instead I’ll summarize life of late (there might be an entry coming about the term “of late,” and other phrases used by sportscasters that sound one degree beyond their educational level). After the Bowling Green thing came, then went, then came, then went, I had that very common drive to cure immediately my every personal ill. You know the feeling. Something bad happens. You decide it must be your fault. You get abnormally motivated and say to yourself, “That’s IT!!!!” You promise yourself that things are going to change immediately and you make grandiose plans for improvement of your life, convinced that you can go to the gym for thirty minutes and double your bench press, intelligence, penis size (well, those of you who have one get this I suppose), personal savings, and social charm.

I even remember expressing that twitch a couple of times. I also recall telling Blog This that I thought I might crawl into a hole.

At some point, I calmed down, but still somehow more or less crawled into a hole. Intentionally or not, I isolated myself and kinda started doing things I thought I should be doing every day. Some great habits emerged, some bad ones withered away, and both happened for all the right reasons. Somehow I have managed to maintain this for way longer than I have before (for example, today is Day 49 away from nicotine). This is good.

There are two verrrrry mild negative side effects of this. One is that I don’t have much of a social life right now (my own doing). In fact, I almost started making phone calls this afternoon to see how many of you I could get to Nashville this weekend. But I thought better of it because it would be inconsiderate (I know some of you would have gone out of your way to do so), and because I think being alone a little longer is probably a good thing.

The second is that I am as emotionally neutral as I ever remember being. It’s a little scary to think about, since that wouldn't seem to be compatible with my desired occupation (“I Guess Everything’s Okay” wouldn’t be much of a song title… there’s another future entry). But it’s not that scary. I don’t think one must be excessively excited or depressed to put emotion into songs. In fact it might help one to be neither.

So anyway, I guess that’s part of why I’m not saying that much these days. I think it’s temporary, and I’m sure it’s good. In fact, just writing down what I thought was going on seems to have revealed that I have more to say than I thought I did. So much for pulling the cord on the long, pensive entry. But I thought you would like to know.

I write now only to avoid being missed or visited by the Blog Police. I have actually been spending some time on the "long, pensive" entry I mentioned on Sunday. It is taking me quite some time to say exactly what I want to say, so I'm going slow.

Really, it's not you; it's me.

In the mean time, a couple of thoughts.

• The J0nBenet thing smells. I don't think this is as near finished as many would have you believe.
• Is the fascination with her murder the fact that it was a cute little girl, that her parents seemed cold, that the police fouled up the investigation, or that the family was rich? I don't understand.
• I don't know if people are enjoying this commercial or not, but it makes me laugh out loud.

... the world... that's right.

• It's looking like it's going to be a four or five-game home football season for me this year. Kinda sad. Nevertheless, I need football to be here now. Now that I am away from it, it is depressingly evident to me that life simply is not the same when it isn't football season.
• I have been getting Googled a lot lately (and no....). I can't begin to guess why.

I think most people are probably aware of the practice of saying the words "in bed" after reading a fortune from a fortune cookie. I always thought this was silly, especially when one found lottery numbers inside ("what a winning hand....").

Nevertheless, I have realized that I have been doing something similar when talking to myself of late. You can try it too if you like. All you have to do is follow anything you say with the phrase "and no, that is not a euphemism for something." Examples might include the following:

- "I'm going to check the mail, and no, that is not a euphemism for something."
- "I'm going to take the kitty to the vet, and no, that is not a euphemism for something."
- "I'm going to go masturbate, and no, that is not a euphemism for something."

Aaaaaaaaaanyway. I'm going to my grandmother's house this afternoon for a few hours with the family. Then I feel a long, pensive, Yeah-I-started-reading-it-but-I-didn't-get-all-the-way-through-it kind of entry coming on.

And no....

A little fondness

Someone just called from the band room for the express purpose of letting me hear the freshmen play Glory (and more of the Bulld0g March Medley). No tear or lump in the throat, but I do miss that part pretty badly.

It's been a while since I had a coherent thought for a non-bulleted entry...

... and that drought will not end tonight.

• Now who told me to put Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle on my Netflix queue again?

• A second Atlantan named Hank in 50 years does something important. Good on you.

• Scary to think, but I may be at four or less games this fall.

• Gunner called today. It was great to hear the voice, and it made me realize how rarely I talk to people right now. He seems happy but misses everyone (Wow, genius. Didn't see that coming.)

• I am fairly bummed about living in this apartment for another year and not really making as much money as I would like to. But then I think about it, and realize that if I didn't have to live some place that I don't really care for, then I will have no stories when I am old and have nothing but stories left.

• The tv was on in the background today and I heard someone whine, "Life isn't worth living if you don't have someone to share it with." I cursed aloud at the television. What a stupid thing to say for multiple reasons, especially on tv.

• Kit, Stacy, Russ, and Chris: Wish I was there.

• DCI Quarters, Thursday evening at 6PM Eastern at your local cinema. Get your tickets here.

• Somebody give me a Hoo-ha Two Times Tuesday!!!!!!!

Oh my God.

No contest here, but supply a caption if you wish.

Back from camp. Show will be good. Tired and going to sleep.

• Click here (you will have to click a second time on the next page... privacy and all) if you would like to watch a live webcast of the camp I'm teaching (good only from 8:30am-12n and 6:30p-9:00p EDT).

• My kingdom - and I mean all of it - for correct hash marks.

• I've been reading this book lately. It occurs to me that when discussing the problems of the American work force, one may rightly choose to complain about an insufficient minimum wage or excessive outsourcing - but not both.

Go on with the chlorophyll!!!!

• I’ve been writing drill and watching (well, listening to the television broadcast of) the Braves at the same time. Chip C@ray has got to stop referring to a ball hit off of the inner part of the bat as being “fisted.” It just has to stop.

• I am worried that I will either piss someone off or make several people feel ignorant by pointing this out, but I just have to say it because Chip made me think of it. I’m certainly no where near purfect when it comes to spelling, grammar, and proper use of phrases. But this one is bugging the living shit out of me, and several people in many different media and formats misuse this phrase.
The phrase “begs the question” really doesn’t mean “brings about the question.” Unfortunately, it’s been so misused that it has almost become acceptable. The original meaning is much cooler.

Sorry if I sound like a snob. It just really gets on my nerves, which shouldn’t necessarily compel anyone to stop using it that way if they want.

• I have recently been realizing (or thinking that I am realizing) how incredibly short life is.* I don’t know why, it’s just been on my mind. It’s not really depressing or anything, but it does sort of reinforce the idea of one’s own insignificance. In a way, I guess that’s sort of freeing, much like the way Gunner and Trey once reminded me of how much bigger the world is than I thought it was at the time. Not trying to be profound, it's just what I'm thinking about.

By the way, I have mentioned before how some certain types of commercial music freak me out. And I now realize that's what it is. I don't know why it has the effect it has, but that music makes me think "Wow, life is short."

I don't expect anyone to get that. It makes absolutely no sense.

• Maybe it’s part of the same thing, but I’ve also been thinking about some of the really crazy or stupid things that I’ve done in my past. I think about them from the perspective of now and it feels like I would be incapable of doing things that are that misguided again. But I would imagine that that’s not true.

I guess my point is that it can be interesting to look back at a younger version of yourself and perhaps realize that the only thing you have in common with that person is DNA. I seem to feel that way about who I was as recently as seven months ago.

• I’m heading to Georgia then South Carolina to teach a show. And I’m hoping for a gin and tonic and a game of poker on the way.

P.S. - By the way, if:

1.You've never been unfortunate enough to hear me explain why time seems to move faster as you get older...
2. You haven't figured it out on your own, and
3. You have enough free space in your brain to care and want to know...

...then email me. I'm not putting everyone through it again, but for some reason I like to talk about it.

"Sometimes you've gotta throw your hands into the aiiiiirrrrrrrr......."

The first five-expletiving-million times I saw/heard this, I was quite certain that it was a sign of the Apocalypse. It was just too weird, too repetitive... just kinda had that "Yup, must be the End of Days" sorta feeling. When I thought things were going well with Bowling Green, it further alarmed me that we were in for it. Once she called things off and I realized that this apparently wasn't real, I realized that the world wasn't ending after all.

So don't worry about this Lebanon-Israeli conflict, at least in terms of the likelihood of its leading to the destruction of Earth. Everything seems normal.

But if the commercial intrigues you, you can read some commentary about it here.

It is a little bit surreal that this is here. If you don't know, this was the first CD project that I ever edited by myself (well, with the exception of one track). It took me two summers and I am pretty proud of it, even though the only way you would know I had anything to do would be for me to tell you. I did it, and I have the liquor store receipts to prove it.

Edit: I have changed some of the above language to avoid... well, I just changed it. - B

I think this is one of the best statements about the Dixie Chicks situation that I have ever seen. I don't perceive that it leans one way or the other, and I think it captures the essence of why this situation sucks:

Though the politically minded lines drew the strongest applause, the Chicks' finest moments in Detroit came when Maines and her cohorts allowed fragility to creep into the equation. Another Griffin tune, "Top of the World," proved a heartbreaker, with Maines' voice conveying significant depth of emotion as she sang, "There's a whole lot of singing never gonna be heard/ Disappearing every day without so much as a word."

And that, in a nutshell, is the tragedy of the Dixie Chicks. Maines' sings her behind off, Maguire is a tremendous vocalist and instrumentalist and Robison's instrumental prowess and harmony vocals provide the pillow on which everything else rests. The new band of supporting musicians is a remarkable unit, full of stomp and swagger and twang. And yet the Dixie Chicks have become a nonentity, a target or a thorn to those who disagree with their politics.

In Detroit, the politics fell away and the songs reigned supreme. And during the show, it felt just like great music. And after the show, when the questions and context returned, it felt like a shame. There's a whole lot of singing here that should be heard. They heard it in Detroit, and they cheered wildly. In Nashville, we're still shouting too loudly to listen. - Peter Cooper, The Tennesseean - July 22, 2006

"While the music played you worked by candlelight"

The power is out at my home, and I have two immediate needs:

1. Internet.



Thusly I am sitting for a moment in my Explorer stealing internet from a local hotel. I will have to quit shortly, as I have to write drill tonight and I have four hours of power left on this thing. There is not a lot of hope that the power will be on any time soon.

2. Food. That's next.

I am alarmed at how unprepared I am for something as simple as a power outage of a few hours. I should fix this.

She didn't remember him

Two things:

1. As promised, the best interpretation of the second song from my post of two days ago is in the title of this entry. The answer to the first was "You're never going to tamper with me." The answer to the second was that she did not remember her husband. When he was wheeled into her room, she thought she was meeting the love of her life for the first time. Agree? Disagree?

It's nice to think that things like that might actually happen. I don't think they do, but it's nice to think they do.

2. I'm well into drill hell. I am bad enough at this part of the gig and hate it badly enough that I will not write again after this year if I don't have to.

Remember last year when these people won three national titles? I just got a phone call and they just repeated the first of those three.

1) Update and 2) Something that involves your time and thought

This is the update portion. You should be able to read and fully comprehend in 1-2 minutes.

I was going to write this really big to-do celebrating the fact that I have lived here for one year (which is 364.5 days longer than G@rth Br00ks lasted the first time he moved to town… and no, I’m not kidding). I’m just getting tired of some of my attempts to be profound or pat myself on the back. I don’t know. Maybe I’m getting tired of blogging, maybe I’ve become cynical. Whatever.

The bottom line is I can now find my way to the movie theater without getting lost. I know the back way to the row. When someone says “The Gu1ch” I know where they’re talking about. Yeah, I’ve stuck it out and that’s fine and good. There’s more to life than just showing up, so that’s all I have to say about the subject.

Last night’s, um, show was fine. There was almost no one there, I sounded like I hadn’t played a live show in two years, and everyone was very supportive. It was a really good way to eek may way back into playing out, and I will do it a few more times before I start trying to make a move to anything more involved.

This is the more involved part. You will need 5-15 minutes to really get the benefit of this portion of the entry.

I have suspected something about myself for some time, begun to confirm it recently, and solidified my knowledge last night (at the show and at a workshop I attended right before the show). It is yet another component of what I might call being “slow”… not so much as a euphemism for being mentally or developmentally disabled (though I suppose there is room for debate in that regard), but more in the sense of being “methodical” or “not quick to judge.”

I have long said of myself that I am a person of “horrible initiative and tremendous endurance.” I actually made that up one day to shut Dwight up as he was trying to describe me to me. I’m sure there was some type of whiskey or wine involved in that conversation and that self-description. Nevertheless, I have thought it appropriate since that time. Besides being somewhat accurate, it often calms me down when I realize that a tremendous amount of the citizens of the world jump blindly into situations as I stand at the top of the cliff with my saliva-covered finger in the air, trying to feel which side gets cold.

So, I was listening to songs at a workshop, and the person doing critiques was saying very positive things about the songs he heard. Sometimes, he was going further than simply saying nice things, he was doing something about his opinion that meant he really did feel positively about the song at hand, er, ear. Almost the whole time, I was thinking, “Man, I just don’t hear it. I just don’t.”

Later, I heard a song at the show – a cover of a song from my childhood that has recently been used as music for a commercial. I had recently been drawn to it a little bit, but hearing it live after some twenty-ish years really attracted me to it. It was just one line of lyric and one little continuation of melody at the end of every chorus. It just struck me as brilliant, and it took me this long to figure it out. I realize the song may seem hokey to some, and that’s fine… but I know no one who could have written a line as strong as “Whatever we deny 0r embrace” and thereby have put “being meant for someone" in a completely new context - a context that doesn’t involve the word “perfect.”

There are two others that come to mind, and I’m going to leave them out there for you. These are classic songs, but I suspect that most won't know them. This isn’t a test, it’s just a method of sharing my initial learning of and companion bewilderment with the true meaning or best interpretation of these gems. You may think I'm an idiot for not getting these immediately, or you may realize something very cool.

I'm not being a comment whore. If you don't want to participate or think it's silly, don't. If you do, and wish to express your amazement or state of not being whelmed, then that's great too.

(breath)

So here you go. The first is intensely silly, and to get it you must read the lyrics and pronounce the title line very very loosely. It took me twenty years of listening to this song to get that. I suspect that I just wasn't paying attention. If you want, you can comment with the intended hearing of the title (but see below, please) if you are faster than I am (was) and get it.

The second is one of the best pure love songs I have ever known. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize the most amazing (and probably intended) interpretation of the final verse until I was thinking about the song in the shower today. Look at it, think ever so slightly outside “the moment” in the third verse, and see if you come up with it. If you realize how amazing the answer is, you will know that you have realized it – you should choke (please don’t comment with it, but if you want to say that you think you get it, that's fine). I will title my next entry with what I think it is.

For the 500th time, Tech, stop F*&ing whining

If you read the article on Tech in this morning's AJC, read what I wrote.


What will they cry about next?

PS - Kit, did you ever get that whiskey out of your hair from 2003?

I have thirty things on my mind, and unfortunately I don't have the time tonight to sit, think, and write with any degree of eloquence. So I will just put a bug in your collective ear (a phrase which reminds me of that weird earwig thing in one of the Star Trek films.... uggghhh) and write in more detail later.

- I spent a good chunk of the weekend in Atlanta and Athens to say bye to Gunner and to attend a wedding. There were many moments of pure bliss and at least one moment of pure stupidity. That moment was totally my fault, and I'm so embarassed by it that I won't even put it in the blog. Those who know know, but we haven't discussed it.

- Apparently I now like Gin and Tonic.

- Remember like two weeks ago when I said that I was almost finished working? Not so. I'm behind.

- I moved to Nashville one year ago today. I have much more to say about this, but it will simply have to wait. Oddly, I play my first show in Nashville since I moved on Monday night... on my 366th day in town.

Amen

For better or worse, you probably have to be a music nerd like me to appreciate this video, which really shouldn't even be a video. If you're interested in the origins of one of the rhythmic patterns that is ridiculously prevalent in modern music and advertising, this is worth 15 minutes of your free time. It's a bit dry, and I don't agree with the conclusions that the narrater makes.

Nevertheless, it's very interesting. What caused me to post this was hearing the break on a commercial for this product.

Pictures and words combined

This is a photo-driven post, which means that whatever photos I have taken will determine what I will write about. Alright, here we go. Here comes photo #1.



I would black out this person’s face, but I don’t have the software necessary to do that. This was taken at the local dive right down the street from where I live. I usually visit there every Sunday night, and for two weeks running now, I have visited and not smoked!

Anyway, this poor fella has the worst case of Fl0ck of Se@gulls hair I have ever seen, and it just makes me laugh. You can't quite tell from the photo, but trust me. It's bad.

Ok, here comes #2.



This was my breakfast this morning, and it was about as pretty as anything I have ever put on a plate. So I gave it a B+ for presentation, took a picture of it, then ate it.

Ok…. gimme, gimme, gimme, gimme, gimme, number three.



Do you know what that is? It’s a stage. There are people playing instruments and singing music on that stage. And three of them are Stee|y Dan (well, which is two guys… I mean basically) and Michael McD0nald. The person taking the picture was me.

If you do the math correctly, you will reason that I was at the concert, and you will reason rightly. It was fantastic.


This is Walt. You may know that he is the sax0phonist for SD. I think when he’s playing (as you may note that he is in this picture) that he looks like me when I’m playing.

K.

Ch... ch... changes. Time to change the oil.

1. I thought I would try linking to a song of mine. So if you haven't heard the song whose name rhymes with "Schmaltzing with Farrah" then here you go. Enjoy. I would love to link more tunes, but registering copyrights costs money, so it will be a while.

2. You will notice to your right (you guessed it... my left), I have changed the format of my links. Rather than letting you sift through the never updated and the oft updated blogs, I have recommended an interval for your perusal based on the consistency of the blogger's posting habits. If you feel you have been unfairly categorized, I will hear your appeal (with my back turned and my nose in the air, but I will hear it). Email me.

Yay Gunner!!!! If he were a fisherman's assistant, then this morning he would have been named "Master Baiter." He is not a fisherman's assistant, so you can just call him... um, well, go ahead and call him "Master Baiter." He'll like that. Marines like that sort of thing.

Gracelessness Pays Off

Before posting this, I would reference my previously stated disgust for some of my blogging tendencies. I have really gotten tired of writing (and later reading) how freaking wonderful or completely shitty everything is. So. Know that this is just an account of a night that I found particularly enriching. Every time in this post that I feel like I am starting to get romantic about my chosen field or sense a threat to end the entry like a Dave Barry column, I throw up in my mouth a little. Sorry for what sounds like self-loathing... It's just a mood.

I’m saving a lot of my thoughts for a post that I will write in a couple of weeks. But I would be feigning a nonchalant mood if I said that things were normal tonight.

As you probably know, in the days A.B. (“After Bowling Green”) I kinda got off of my ass and jumped back into the real reason I was in Nashville. As I was planning this jump, I remembered very clearly something that my former next door neighbor told me after she had gotten out of the middle of a rather rough patch, during which she was pretty much alone all the time. In explaining how she had gotten into some social circumstances that I thought were unusual, she said “I started to realize that, when someone reaches a hand toward you, you had better take it… it probably won’t be there again.”

Among the hands that have recently been extended to me was an invitation to what amounts to a very well-organized pickin’ party. It’s not just a bunch of people sitting around with guitars. It has hosts, guest artists, food, a method of bringing non-featured guests into the show, etc. The invitation went out by email to a list of people who attend a couple’s local weekly song workshop… It wasn’t like someone thought, “Brett would enjoy this.” I just happened to be on the list because I go to the workshop sometimes. I was taking a liberal approach to what an invitation was or was not, and I knew a couple of the featured guests, so I decided that that was as much of an extended hand as I could expect here.”

There are so many things I hate about first time social occasions… the look you get from people when you walk through the door that says, “Who’s the shy-looking bald guy with the fake smile?" The obvious moments of awkwardness when there really is nothing to say after the pleasantries are over just kills me. Not knowing who lives there… forgetting names you just learned… having to ask where the restroom is… those consistent worries about the politics of who sits in the chairs when there aren’t enough, leaning against walls, and whether or not this particular home is relaxed enough to accept the rather unsanitary act of manually grabbing cashews from the bowl. All of those things have always been pure misery for me, and I was dreading them all day long. But I made myself go down there, bitching all the way.

And my fears were, of course, justified (as they usually are… they’re just stupid things to worry about). But at some point, as the picks came out and the results of a few momentary occasions of brilliance were passed on to new sets of ears, it became worth it. The forcing oneself into a closed circle of conversation, the small talk, the moments of unintentional silence, the exit during which you strangely learn that you are now a “hugging friend” in spite of your double clutch as the other party reaches toward you, the nerves that caused you to spill peanuts onto the hosts’ floor in mid-conversation and the embarrassment of sticking your ass in the air in attempt to make sure you got all of them… they became worth it.

For the record, I heard two songs tonight that I had first heard either on my tv or my radio, and I didn’t realize that I knew the writers. I heard one of the coolest elderly voices I have ever heard (think J. Cash). I heard hooks, grooves, chords, melodies, and tongues planted firmly in cheeks. Those things made the trip worth the complications.

When I realized the benefits of the situation, I was finally at home enough that I decided that I will probably put up with circumstances of a similar level of gracelessness again in the near future. And perhaps next time, I will be contributing not only to the awkwardness, but also to the payoff.

If you had told me four years ago that I would put myself through (what to me is) hell in order to get done what I want to get done, I would have called you a fool and I would have been right. I give myself just a little bit of credit for walking into cold situations and repeating it until the people in the circle have no choice but to remember my name. I think it's the only way to do it.

But boy, sometimes it would sure seem nice if the room were as easy as the rooms where I find most of you.

Lots on the mind, but not much that's coming out. So here:

• The North Koreans have a missile called a....... wait for it.... "Nodong" (*rolls on floor, laughing ass off, nose between ring and middle fingers a la AHayes*).

• It's amazing to me that there are still non-Depp pirates in the world.

... no nicotine since friday am.... grass is always greener.... first trip to bar since then was tonight.... Ginger from Gilligan's Island in present day post-menopausal condition looking good.... going to go walk this off.... wish luck.... no, really....

The answer to the Br0ken S0cial Scene question was "Fire Eye'd B0y." It is pasted below if you want to see what I was all hot and bothered about.


Sure enough, Brett finds out what this tune is... and there goes another damn dollar to Apple.

Superman Returns

I saw saw Superman Returns tonight, and I was somewhat whelmed. Rather than boring you with text about the film, I will instead bore you with a best and worst list about the film.

Best:

1. Used the original John Williams theme music.
2. Routh's delivery of the line "Good night, Lois," is a dead ringer for Reeve.
3. Kevin Spacey.
4. The space shuttle scene - probably the coolest thing in the film, and it's unfortunate that this happened so near the beginning.

Worst:

1. While I appreciate that director Singer was nodding to the original two films and the older character, I could do without the kitchsy "It's a bird, it's a plane bit." It sounded a bit like those people you know who want to sound spontaneaous, but deliver their one-liners with a little too much polish and just enough rush to sound not rehearsed.
2. Same thing but more serious... again, thanks for the nod to the original everytime it happened. But oh my God, "Truth, justice, and all that stuff?" Really? Leave it out altogether if you don't want to use the word... ya know, that word. But don't change Superman.

[Ed: Here is a letter I just wrote to the screenwriters of Superman Returns.]

Dear Screenwriters of Superman Returns,

Blow it out your ass.

Best wishes,

Brett
3. How completely obvious the twist was before the movie was ten minutes old.
4. No Richard Pryor (That's a joke...).

My opinion: Probably worth seeing at the theater if you loved the original two like I did. Make it a matinee.

Letterman

Yet again, two things:

1. Does anyone know (or can anyone find out) the name of the song performed by Br0ken S0cial Scene on Letterman last night (6/29/06)?

2. If you haven't been watching, one of Dave's cooler new sketches is called Late Sh0w Fun Facts, which are statements of no truth that sound like something USA Today would put in the lower left corner. For me, it rivals the T0p Ten in originality. Here is a sample of some of the latest ones (from cbs.com):

• On the moon, a person becomes 84% lighter and 12% shorter.
• The longest yard ever measured was three feet, two inches.
• Leonardo daVinci's notes and sketches contain detailed diagrams for the Wet-Nap.
• The most commonly misspelled word in the English language is "Toyotathon."
• The concept of "Soup of the Day" was invented by the Aztecs.

Check out the rest if you like, here. Of course, any red-blooded American would be watching anyway, CBS Weeknights 11:30E/10:30C.

Two things:

1. I am on dial-up... again... from my house.................... that's why............ you............. only get a............... little bit................. of this message at a...............................................
............................................................................... time. Cable.......... guy.......... in........... the...................... morn.'

2. Apparently tonight is Make-Out Night USA. I went out on the deck, and heard my new male and female upstairs neighbors giggling and sighing directly above me, and I'm pretty sure they weren't watching The Golden Girls (it would be different if there was some kind of view, but it's just a f*&king apartment complex.... yes, Brett - yes it is). The next time I went outside, I instead went out my front door, only to find a couple getting all fresh with each other in the parking lot, Bayside style.

It feels like Florida '96.

Hrmmm, um, what to say...

It’s obviously the not-so-busy season in the blogging department for several of us, myself included. I know I haven’t posted much because there isn’t a great deal to tell that is that momentous. Since break-up part two, most developments that have taken place (except for a couple of visits to Nashville from great friends) have been internal and not of a great deal of interest. Plus, in reading some of my previous posts, I got really tired of what seems to have become a cliché at some point. It goes something like this:

“Things are about to get really good” or “Something is changing” or “It’s time for me to do something about it.”

Blegh.

So, I guess that leaves me with random time. And just to be genuine about it, I am going to use bullets.

• After moping about Anne for two days after I got back, I pretty much shut up and got on with life… again, a pretty radical departure from my past, but I think that’s a good thing. She probably flashes through my mind about once every 8 hours or so. That’s not so much.

• I’ve been reading this book lately, and it is wonderful if you enjoy thinking about trends and what large numbers of people can be compelled to do.

• I think I mentioned that Brad came into town for a couple of days after I got back. Earlier this week, Scorley came in for a day and we had a great time. Among other things, we wrote drill, drank way more than we should have, and found a very cool new restaurant where I will take you should you make your way to town. I also lost money in heads-up poker.

• Our waitress at the aforementioned restaurant is a writer/vocalist that I have heard several times in town. It does repeatedly amaze me how small the community or the world is.

• With the exception of a couple of last-minute gigs I have picked up from Alabama and hopefully something for Knight this fall, the horn book-writing for this year should be finished tomorrow (well, today… Thursday).

• Because I actually did get off my ass and do something about not feeling worth a damn ten days ago, I have been feeling more consistently physically good than I remember in many years (with the exception of the morning, er, afternoon after Scorley and I got into the booze).

• Would everyone think I was a wus if I didn’t drink whiskey anymore, and instead switched to wine? If so, would they get over it?

• Health Clubs: If you use them and have pointers for me regarding what to look/look out for, please fill me in. I think I have found one that I like, but I don’t want to do something stupid.

I guess that’s about it… nothing to whine about, no great philosophical realizations that aren’t going into tunes. I’m busy and never bored. I feel great, but not in a "wake up and conquer the world" sort of way... it's something much calmer and steadier, whether that's good or bad.

And that's that.

To not quite quote L@rry King, "Bloomington, Illinois... go ahead." Let me know who you are. I promise not to bite, unless you're into that sort of thing.

I think I am not going to move. I don't know if it's what Bowling Green said, a significant change in habits on my part, that swagger, or just the tides, but I have started running into a lot of people here. I don't see the point in going somewhere where I'm not going to feel safe. And I just don't feel like packing the truck and doing it all again.

Sc0rley comes to town tomorrow afternoon for about a day. That will be nice.

Shit

Ok, I wasn't even going to post today. But I am up late again (actually working this time) and the tv is going in the background. It stuns me that this guy ever got a date, much less had the opportunity to procreate. Sleep well, single people. There is hope for you yet.


"Well, uh, a fecophiliac is somebody who's obsessed with mookie-stinks, Kyle."

I'm not normally up this late these days, but I'm thinking about moving. I've been diligently researching the pros and cons of this move because it would be to a part of town that has not always been known as the safest place in the world, but is experiencing a really cool revival that I think I would like to be in on. Plus, the apartment is just cool - 1/4 of a very old house. I wish I had the pics but I don't. Anyway, I'll think over the weekend and decide on Monday. I think I'm going to do it.

"The Project"

On at least one ocassion in the past year, I have subtly mentioned "a project" at UGA. Well, the AP has picked up on that project and offers an error-filled, if enthusiastic, look at it. It's nice to see the little video with at least one face that is somewhat familiar to many of you.

Battle Hymn at Pregame

Even though it gets slammed as boring or overly sentimental sometimes, I'm still a proud papa. Not great footage, but it does remind you of what that moment feels like when it goes almost right.

Kudos to Paulwesterdawg and The Hobnailed Boot for the find.

Faking it and doing so very well

I made myself a couple of promises on the way back into town on Sunday. These two promises were:

1. I was going to do something about my real intended career as soon as possible.
2. I was going to get out of the house and “get out there” as Bowling Green told me I needed to do.

I did both of those things tonight, and it has made the world seem like less of a tunnel than it did just days ago. In one moment that was particularly important to me, I was sitting on the porch of a pretty significant music establishment with several people that I really didn’t know (at least two of whom have written tunes that many of you know by heart). I felt that old shyness, that belief that everyone was wondering what I was doing there. In what I guess was a moment of decision, I felt myself becoming emotional at “not fitting” in.

It was then that I realized that I was either going to try to fit in and be rejected or accepted, or that I could go home and watch TV by myself. I chose the former… totally faked it, smiled, acted confident and happy in the moment, found something to laugh about. Though the effect didn’t kick in right away, by the end of dinner at 11:30 tonight, the known factors at the table were looking inquisitively in my direction, and finally couldn’t help but break into my conversation and ask, “What are y’all talking about?”

Perhaps this could become a habit.

"go get um - DLK" in three parts

Part One

Several years ago, college basketball public address announcers began to notify the players and crowd when the game clock reached one minute before the end of a game. Having been to over 300 college basketball games in the last ten years or so, I have become accustomed to this announcement, and it is in fact ingrained in my head.

I tend to take long showers, and I sometimes get so comfortable in the shower that my hesitance to leave makes me late for wherever it is that I need to be on a given morning. As I have realized this, I have forced myself to exit the shower within a certain amount of time from the moment when I realize that I am no longer showering for cleanliness. When this moment arrives and I am showering in a house in which I am alone, I will often repeat the announcement that I heard so many times at basketball games.

“One minute. One minute remaining.”

And then I count the seconds down to zero, and I finally leave the shower, wishing all the while that I didn’t have to.

Part Two

My three weeks in Athens brought back a steady controlled swagger that I had lost in the eleven months since I moved to Nashville. Some of this resulted from a situation or two in which I had no choice but to ignore fear and act. Some of it came from a forced change of habits that kept me focused and active. Some of it happened from simply being comfortable. Nevertheless, I like this gait and the accompanying confidence, and I intend to do my best to keep it.

I had a conversation with Bowling Green on the way home today, in which she revealed what happened. I won't post the details, but I will say that I think she was justified in her final decision and that I agree with it. We agree that trying this again was a bad idea, and she has fully accepted the portion of the responsibility for this heartbreak which is rightly hers. But what was particularly notable about the conversation was that she reinforced this confidence with words that could not possibly have been easy for her to release from her mouth.

Be mad or think I am naive for not telling her to go to hell if you want. It will be a while before I can talk to her again for my own reasons. Bowling Green is over. But I now have a friend an hour and twenty minutes from here. While she hurt me in ways, she preserved the positive portions of what was there by doing something that I know was difficult. I'm pretty thankful for that.

Part Three

You may recall that several students in the band threw me a surprise goodbye party before I left UGA. You may also recall that they gave me a beautifully drawn print of a band uniform layed upon a dorm room chair, framed by goodbye messages written from many people associated with the band.

When I forget why I am here, I look at those messages. One in particular reminds me of the figurative slap on the ass and shove out of the aircraft door that those who were dear to me provided as I was preparing to leave Athens. David Ki$h wrote something so simple:

"Once a dawg...

go get um

DLK"

This contributes even more to that swagger that I really need to get back into the game in every imaginable sense. I know, I know. I'm still recovering, and I need to re-enter with fresh legs... I'll take care of myself.

But it feels like something really, really good is about to happen. And I know what I need to do to make sure I'm ready.

The commercial break is almost over, and the coach is looking toward the bench. You know what happens next, but I'll keep you posted every step of the way.

Moving on

The circles that life sometime provides are amazing.

As you read yesterday, things with Bowling Green have ended again. I find myself again at Walker's, in the same spot where I have previously written to her describing a previous trip to Athens, at the same spot where I responded to a seemingly innocent email of five weeks ago asking how I had been, at the same spot where I two weeks ago wrote her an email detailing the minutiae of my very poorly timed departure from Nashville, and at the same spot where I received her break-up email yesterday. Here I am again, reminding myself of what I had really become comfortable with just moments before she emailed a month ago in an attempt to try again...

I'm ok.

Her timing was absolutely horrible in that last night was supposed to be about Gunner. Unfortunately, at times, it was not, and I'm very sorry for those of you who had little choice but to lend a hand in rebuilding me once again. But it is.

And that's just it. It is. I am angry. I am hurt. And I frankly feel betrayed at being asked to trust someone who had hurt me a little bit before at the risk of being hurt worse a second time. I can't imagine that the process of finding a way to mitigate the resulting jerks of the knee and learned reactions to another woman at some point in the future is going to be easy. In fact I know it won't be.

But as much as I am inclined not to trust someone again, as much as I want so badly to draw a negative conclusion about all people (and specifically all women), as much as I want to abandon all hope of ever finding someone who is compatible with me and emotionally capable of managing the quirks and faulty connections between synapses that invariably accompany the difficult process of exposing one's emotional self... It's the wrong thing to do.

Yep, here we go again, recovering from misplaced trust. I want so badly to crawl in a hole and mope about how alone I am and how selfish and untrustworthy all people are... but I won't.

I'll recover. I will jump again, and it's likely that I will miss again. And then I will jump again, all the while hoping that someone out there tells the truth and allows me to do the same without judging me unfairly while sticking around long enough to find out the real truth.

The only other option is far too depressing to think about.

Bowling Green is gone for good. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, you know the rest. Something will change.

Cough, wheeze, try to breathe (not the same as being breathless)

There is so much to tell and no time to tell it, so here is a brief summary and some brief very random (yet somehow associated) thoughts.

1. Week one of the camps was quite successful for the first five full days. On the sixth day, things got very hectic and the wheels threatened to come off. It was salvaged and all ended basically very well.

2. I was pegged to sing "Amie" by Pure Pr@irie League on the staff recital last week, in bluegrass style with several closeted practitioners of hillbilly music. It was pretty good, but I had started noticing as the performance was approaching that my vocal range was suffering. Twenty minutes after the performance, I couldn't sing the part correctly. I figured that this was due to our having raised the pitch to accomodate one of the other vocalists.

The next morning I woke up with a cough, and my body began aching as the morning progressed. It was at this time when one of the clinicians said "I went to the doctor about that on Monday. It was strep throat... they gave me a shot and it cleared right up."

Thanks!

Sure enough, I too had strep and had to see my old doctor for antibiotics. I was out of commission for about a day. It's still wearing off.

3. I enjoyed seeing the Georgia game on Saturday (in spite of the loss) with Scorly and Trina. We had a nice afternoon together as well (while I worked).

4. Today, the second camp started with far more complications than the first. My stress level rose through the roof, and I began to recognize my reactions to that as those of myself when I lived and worked here. I am simply stunned at how much that can affect every other portion of my life, and I don't particularly care for the reaction. This, yet again, confirmed for me that I made the right move.

5. I have had quite a bit of trouble breaking away to work, but I hope that will improve this week.

6. The level of bullshit in my particular former corner of this town is at an all-time high.

7. If you haven't already heard, we are drinking in Gunner's honor this weekend. You should be there.

How's this for bloggers?

In order not to be publicly humiliated... well, publicly humiliated by someone other than myself (namely the Blog Police or his Trusty Assistant). I am writing briefly today. I don't have much time to do so, however, as I have only managed to get away from my camp duties for four hours, and I certainly don't want to be cited by the Why the Hell Aren't You Writing My Show Police.... a citation that is much more expensive in real currency.

All is well. I'm busy, tired, and in Athens. Two photographs for you:


This was me just moments ago in Die Walkers. I'm not sure if that's rage, fatigue, or a temporary lapse of what Gunner calls "coping skills."


This is Gunner on Friday night, drinking some kind of soda that made him feel funny.

I'll write more as soon as Galarza complains again.

Morning at Walker's

So I'm sitting at Walker's emailing some files off of my laptop this morning. For some reason, a bit of my coffee went down the wrong pipe. Coffee spewed at high velocity from my mouth onto what I was sure would be my computer keyboard. Fortunately, I hadn't taken as big of a sip as I thought I had. Thus, only a drop made the computer, none made the keyboard, and I live to fight another day. However, my pride is destroyed as the five other people who are here witnessed my body's rejection of the drink, and thus also heard the sound I made... think "pygmie fellates chainsaw" and you'll be pretty close to the sound.

By the way, I think the downtown Athens internet is slow as balls.

.... oh and, huh?

1. Who cares?
2. .....just, huh?

Well, I won’t be explaining the previous post. It was simply an expression and you may interpret it however you wish. I recommend that you interpret it positively and attempt to assign no details to that positivity (thank you S. Kelly and P0sh T0ner!!!! [inside joke, moreso than some people wish it were]).

Things are good in Nashville, so what am I going to do? Go live in Athens for three weeks. That’s logical.

Anyway, I work through the weekend and then head to the Classic City on Monday. A week of preparation and two weeks of summer camp, followed by a reception for a dear friend and a post-mortem will follow. I am back in Nashville at some point around June 21.

I will do my best not to be non-bloggy when I am away.

:) .......... seriously.

More RCB China News

Kudos to Adam for this one.

RCB Article in the Shanghai Daily. The penultimate paragraph is charming.

A great clip for Letterman, REM, and Athens people

This is still my favorite song of a band from my favorite town on my favorite TV show.

And here's an official update on the trip through public affairs.

Wow... I learned from a referral to this blog that this search yields this blog as it's number one result... and all this time I thought I was keeping this thing pretty clean.

Upper left front on today's ajc.com: Redcoats in China Pics.

Breathless

Good times in Myrtle Beach, Athens, and Atlanta. It was nice to get a little relaxation along with time with family and friends. Unfortunately I all but ignored my email inbox, so I will be on that first thing Monday morning.

While at the beach, we attended the more or less low-rent amusement park where we usually spend one evening for the boys (the boys under 27, that is). One of the big attractions for a five-year old and an almost-three-year-old boy is the Spinny Car Ride Thingy, which features fake cars moving on a significantly reduced scale model of I-285 (i.e., a circle). One particular fake vehicle caught my eye.


It's hard to see, but the front of the vehicle is marked "Special Bus" with the "L" and the "U" missing. I'm glad neither nephew was riding this one.

On the way back through Athens, I had a great Friday evening with Trina and a great Saturday morning with the Gunner, both of which were at Walker's. Then, Trina and I took in one of the underappreciated gems of life in Athens, Georgia.


Day Baseball!!!!

The Dawgs were victorious in this, their final regular season game of the year, and took the series from the SEC Co-Champion Kentucky Wildcats. The postseason has lots of promise for the Georgia this year. Keep your eye on these guys. If I am not mistaken, the Georgia baseball team is undefeated when I have been in attendance (and yes, I have been to more than one game). I can't help but believe that I am responsible for this in some small way.

In unrelated news, some things have changed in Bowling Green. I will post about it when/if it is ever appropriate. Let's just say that I think it's a good thing.

A note to people who work in fields requiring creativity:

1. When your opinion is not solicited, there is usually a good reason. It might be that the creative process is too far along to accomodate a fresh opinion. It might be that there are already too many people contributing. It is also possible that your opinion might not serve this particular endeavor very well. It might also be that no one respects your opinion. Regardless, accept that there is a good reason and move on.

2. Should you choose to ignore #1, you have absolutely no right under any circumstances to throw a fit because your suggestions didn't make the final copy. In fact, there is a distinct possibility that doing so will cause you to be perceived as a child.

That's my impression right now.

Just Another Day in DisneyLand

Thursday
I am still preturbed at the hand I went out on at the freeroll I played with Russell on Thursday night (my first). Russ endured a bad beat early on and was a real trooper as I continued a streak of beginner's luck well into the tournament. It started at 60-something people and we were down to 25 or so. I sat with about 25,000 chips. I was dealt A-A (there were no possible flushes) and bet half of my stack in late position (about 3.5 times the BB). Chica across the table calls me.

Flop comes 8-9-10, and I move all-in to guard against the straight, thinking she wouldn't have called the bet with Q-J. She called and shows K-Q.

Sunuva...

Turn: J. River: Expletiving A.

I lost with three Aces to a broadway straight. Unfortunately, the only thing that made me want to do is play again.

Friday
Went to a meeting in the Ville von Snell, and then procedded to the Classic City. I just missed the governor speaking to the band, and the picture of him in a shako has not yet made the news.

I then enjoyed the send-off performance and not enough time with good old friends. Afterwards, Gunner and Trina and I enjoyed one of those almost perfect Athens evening of bullshit and my observation of their discussion of military tactics. I miss the days when that was easier... and it is about to become even more difficult, but only in the name of fulfilling one's potential.

Saturday
I'm sitting in my favorite place in the world, enjoying a perfectly breezy spring day at Walkers, while observing the aftermath of commencement. It still chokes me a bit to watch all those people soaking their last few minutes in Athens with their families, while conveniently failing to point out that the drain grate that they just passed was the one where he threw up after a long night on Clayton. This is what it looks like from my seat"



... and here is a distant look at the folks crowding to get their picture made in cap and gown at the Arch:



Some things never change.

Off to a T-ball game and then Myrtle Beach now. This hasn't been the best of weeks, so for me, last week ended yesterday.

"Try lying for a change, it's the currency of the world." - Dan in Closer

• Congrats to the Gunner on his recent success up north. You deserve it, young man.

• I leave tomorrow for Marietta (poker and friends), Athens (RCB send-off), and North Myrtle Beach (family vacation [read "working vacation"]) for a little over a week. Those of you who are expecting work from me shouldn't worry. My new toys will allow me to work... hopefully a little better than I've been working here.

• I learned two things today about the theme from "Sp0rtscenter":
1. It was originally the ID theme for the now defunct Satelli+e News Channel.
2. It was written by this person. Scroll down on her site if you want to know what she's most famous for.

• I have begun to learn recently that this town is a little more cutthroat than I had personally experienced. Though it's almost always polite, I'm becoming more acquainted with a deception in which people engage in order to hook you when you're needed and ditch you when something better is available. I won't lie and say that I'm okay with that. I'm not okay with that.

Nevertheless, I chose to play this game, so I'm not going to quit just because people prey on a nature that is probably a little too trusting for my own good. The truth is, people who need to use others need to use others. I wonder what happens to them when there's no one around to use anymore.

I intend to find out.

By the time I get back from several out-of-town engagements over the next two months, I will have lived here for almost a year. A year seems like a long enough time to decide to stop observing and start participating. I have thought I was doing that, but seeing what's going on around me I have realized that I am not.

I feel like the skinny kid who is sitting bored in right field in a kickball game. I think July is a good time to reveal that I have a razor blade in my pocket and my own ball at home.

From a while ago

Idol Chatter 5/9/06

Ok, I'm not even going to pretend that I'm really paying attention to it. I liked Katharine's jeans, and the end of Taylor's second song.

Write. It will fulfill you.

I wish I was a Kennedy.

A UGA alum that some of you know is featured in this story in the Nashville paper. Look at the picture.

Scott calling up "One Hand, One Heart" with the Bball Band up north.

I'm not counting my chickens before they boil but....

No details, but something very cool may have happened today. Met a new co-writer that seems promising, and we may finally have found a nice home for The Waltz (sorry SES, but the name will probably change). More news if/when I have it (weeks to months), but don't hold your breath.

Makes writing the Georgia Blocks seem like playing with Lincoln Logs.

Idol Chatter 5/2/06

Studies have shown that failure to express yourself can result in numerous physical/emotional/physiological issues later in life, including libido/erectile difficulties. You'd best relieve the urge by saying what you think if you watched.

I think Paris is out, and not because she has done anything to cause her to be voted off.

Finally

Not much to report right now.

1. I saw United 93 yesterday. I don't remember being shaken by a film as much as I was by this one. I really really think it's something everyone should see, even if you're scared to see it. It's not so much an entertainment activity as it is an exercise in returning to reality.

2. I am not joining the immigration debate because someone will miusunderstand or spin my opinion in a way that will piss me off. I will say, however, that I think the moves of the last week by the people who support amnesty have been very stupid. I think they have more severely scared those who were already very alarmed and brought a lot of attention to something that they frankly didn't want to receive attention.

Does anyone who is free like Steely Dan, Michael McDonald, Nashville, or me enough to go with the last of these to a show of the first two of these on July 10 in the third of these?

Back from Charlotte. The only thing I really care to share is that there was a difficulty with a rehearsal that the group I was with had planned to hold at the hotel. The difficulty? There wasn't a room for it. So, I offered the suggestion that I use for most problems:

"Let's go to the bar."



Note the disco ball above the dance floor. Seven hours earlier this room was kicking with single forty-somethings. This morning it was kicking with the sounds of plastic reeds and missed E-flats in the Key of Bb.

Bitchy and Amplified

I confirmed this morning that I am in a bitchy mood. The two examples from yesterday were amplified today by a situation in which I threatened to walk from one of my better gigs over something that really wasn't worth threatening to walk over. I think it's the residual effect of something that I promised not to whine about anymore, combined with feeling cooped up in this apartment and a shitty mattress that I still haven't replaced.

I am really looking forward to that laptop getting here (kinda) so I can go to my favorite coffee shop and work elsewhere.

Kudos to Anonymous for introducing herself. She has one of the world's most important, and often thankless, jobs (Mom), and it looks like she was once a band person (who I believe are generally the best, if not the weirdest, people in the world... the person I promised not to talk about was one too). Welcome, Stephanie. Comment anytime, especially when I get silly or mean.

Charlotte tomorrow. Cheers.

Nothing but an update

If I hear another news reporter cue tape with, “And that provided more questions than answers,” I’m going to vomit on my television, or nearby if I can’t quite make it.

I am 90% sure that I am definitely going to buy a laptop on Thursday. I am 100% sure that I probably will. I’m also probably definitely sure that I’m also going to buy a portable keyboard so I can work when I am away from this apartment (aka – “The What Shack”) and so I can go somewhere else in town and work when I want to. Well, 95% sure of that part. I’m feeling cooped up in this place, as evidenced by my outing of Russ’s non-surgeon, and my rant against Anonymous on Kit’s blog.

Aaaaaanyway. Work continues through Thursday, when I run to Charlotte for a quick escort trip. Then I’m back Saturday to hopefully wrap up this year’s horn scoring...

"Hopefully wrap up" means I will be working until late June, and then some.

Idol Chatter 4/25/06

Two solid weeks for Chris. Elliot continues to be the artist that Ace would have been if he hadn't relied on being pretty. My crush on Katharine is at its worst yet. Goodbye Kellie.

Oh... and Mr. Band Director Guy made me a mixed CD that rivals "How To Win Friends and Influence People" in its importance to society. Highlights include "Vibeology" by Paula Abdul, "Sister Christian" by Night Ranger, and "Come Sail Away" by Styx as covered by Eric Cartman.

Take a seat "Sgt. Pepper's"... you have been improved upon.

" I move to dissolve the corporation in a pool of margaritas." - Steely Dan

That's how I felt about going to Atlanta this week, and I feel like that's pretty much what happened. I had great times with great friends with a suprisingly high degree of moderation, hopefully taught someone something, and had some good driving time to put the pieces back together how I wanted to.

I've got wonderful friends who would hop in front of a train for me if they thought it would do any good. I got out of Athens just in time to avoid a situation in which I would have been absolutely miserable. I've got enough work to pay the bills. I'm in the best place in the world to do what I really want to do with my career. I've got enough freedom from obligations to do something that I want to do on a daily basis.

So, I've put the Bowling Green thing to bed... no more whining about that topic. I'm going to do my best not to think about it either. It won't do me any good, I've got enough to do and think about as it is, and every day I sulk about it is one that I won't get back.

Hope everyone had good weekends.

I am thinking that being alone might be the best thing I could have asked for.

Here's a photo I got for Christmas from my sister-in-law. I still haven't put it away and I don't think I will... I stare at it every day. If you don't know, that's my brother on your left, me on your right, and Billy Bob Thornton in your center. You can also see the verrrrry classy reflection of me (the current one) and the camera.

"Communication"

That’s what you hear before you order. If you know what you hear after you order, please comment with that. The first to do so will win my conditionally undying affection for an undetermined period of time.

Back to Georgia we* traipse Wednesday morning for two clinics and a judging gig at this guy’s school, trivia with anyone who is there (including the GGBlogPongs), dinner with all three members of Barrow County Oobdom, hanging with this person’s fam-damily, an evening with the folks, and a clinic here. (*Catches breath*). It should be fun, and it will be nice to be around some familiar faces and voices for a few days.

I really appreciate the words lots of you had for me since my rant. Things are getting better, though I really am thinking that there are a couple of changes that I want to make. They will wait until I get back here. Not getting what you want sometimes can motivate you to do some things that will make you better, and that’s fine and good. In a perfect world, none of us would need a reason to better ourselves, beyond the simple desire to be better for our own sakes. As for me, a disappointment or external stimulus often helps me get my shit together – so I’ll go ahead and take advantage of it.

A couple of you in particular pointed something out to me yesterday and today that I had never realized. No details here, but it was really nice to hear. I’ve mentioned before that I think it’s easy to ruin a positive situation or trait of someone by pointing it out (what one might call “Ron Burgundying” something). But every now and then, a well-timed friend can answer the question “Why bother?” before you have even had time to mope enough to ask the question. You know who you are, so thanks. You helped a lot.

There is an old anecdote about a songwriter who had just been through a breakup. Several of his songwriter “friends” take him to the local bar to chase the pain with some booze. On about the third drink, the “friends” begin to press the conversation in the way that some real friends would when they act as novice therapists. In this case, however, the emotional spill from the victim of the breakup is met with more than nods. As one of them asks, “So man, how do you feel,” rather than grinning knowingly and putting their arm on his shoulder, they instead break out pens and paper, recording the miserable thoughts of the poor sap in an effort to capture the germ of the next great American breakup song.

Since none of you are actively pursuing a songwriting career to my knowledge, when you see me this week and I find myself on the wrong side of getting over my little head-hanging episode, do me a favor and give me that hook back when I can do something with it. I’ll make it worth your while… in a PG-13-Rated way.

I’ll try to blog while I’m in God’s Country, but we’ll see what happens.

-------------------------------

Notes: * - Someone pointed out to me years ago that I have a defense mechanism that I often don’t realize I am employing. I think I picked it up from Garth Brooks or Brad**, as in “We’ll talk to you later.” Aaaaaanyway. That mechanism is referring to myself in the plural, perhaps in an effort to spread the blame for my (usually rather benign) actions between myself and multiple other versions of myself (which most certainly don’t exist). I’ve never stopped doing that, and I don’t think I’m going to.

** - This phrase, when taken out of context, could sound really, really bad. For some reason, I began to think of things that someone might actually have picked up from Garth Brooks… namely a rash or some other type of unsightly medical condition. It then occurred to me that raw numbers and unfortunate facts within the human condition probably allow for the possibility that there are groupies out there who take pride in the STD’s that they have picked up from rock stars along the way. Sick as it is, I am quite certain that, at some point in time, someone has felt that they had trumped someone else by picking up a more severe ailment from another star… as in:

Groupie #1: “I got genital warts from Mick Jagger.”
Groupie #2: “Oh yeah, well I got Hepatitis C from Tommy Lee!?”
Groupie #1: “Touché.”

Idol Chatter 4/18

Do it. It'll make you feel good.

Obviously, Kelli was the weakest tonight. She could get a sympathy vote, but I don't think so... too many other people were too good. I don't think Katharine was as good as they made her out to be, but she was solid and hasn't gotten any less beautiful... seriously, she is stunning in a realistic way. I thought Chris earned points tonight too.

I still think Ace is the most talented person on the show, and I think he has consistently underperformed his own abilities since the show began. I also look at him and wonder if there is any brain activity going on back there. I always expect an errant camera to catch him drooling. Paris - not what they said she was, either. I want Elliot to do well because he is so freaking average, but he just doesn't have "it."

My bottom three: Kelli, Ace, Elliot. Kelli exits.

Mountain Out of a Molehill (but it's my molehill, and it takes a while to read)

Please do not read this if you don’t know me pretty well. You will think I am insane, and those who know me will be no more convinced of this fact by this entry than they have been by my words and behavior over the last several years. If you do know me, I am really sure I’m blowing this out of proportion, but I needed this one. No need to say you're sorry. You've been pulling for me to get everything I wanted for ages, and I'm sure that hasn't changed.

Ok, so here’s the explanation from earlier. I’m writing when the feeling is fresh on my brain, and I don’t expect this to be an entry of immense joy or enthusiasm. Because I’m not telling the world exactly who I’m talking about, I am going to use her real name. I don’t think she would mind.

It’s no secret to anyone who knows me that I have never been very good in the whole relationship department. I’ve never been in one that lasted more than six months. I never date, and I am horrified by the prospect of walking up to a girl and talking to her out of the blue. Figuring out how to handle a relationship or the potential for one has been a gigantic exercise in trial and error, and I have batted right at 1.000 in the error department. Yet, finding someone who “gets” me has been on the very front of my mind 24 hours a day seven days a week since I was very, very young. In fact, I think I might have been a very early bloomer in terms of developing the desire to be with someone. I’ve also been a very late bloomer in terms of the realization of this and several components of that realization. You know what I mean.

At any rate, since my last attempt (which started in January 2004, basically ended in December 2004, and should be used as the training manual for how not to do it), I had more or less laid low (so to speak) in spite of the fact that it had still been on my mind 100% of the time. I tried the online thing with very disappointing results, and had finally started to believe in March that it just wasn’t ever going to work out.

I began to contemplate no longer using the online services, as they had never resulted in so much as a single date… not one. As sure as I started thinking about quitting, I was contacted by a woman named Anne about a month ago. She is a professor in a field that I like a lot at a university a little over an hour away from here. A very thought-provoking conversation ensued, and I began to be challenged by our differences and intrigued by our similarities. She had so many characteristics that I like and that I rarely ever find, and she was absolutely beautiful to boot.

Pretty soon, I made the trek to her town for a first date. The email conversation continued, and it became more and more engaging as it did so. Then there was a second date, then a third, and I began to start thinking that she was just different enough for this to work in some form. Refreshingly, for the first time I stopped trying to predict the future or guess how far this was going to go. If you know me, you know that’s huge.

I was really enjoying myself. She would tell me how strange I was, and tell me that she liked that. She let me tell the truth about what I thought and felt and never judged me on it, even if it wasn’t the same as what she thought and felt. Again, the world changed for me a little bit, and I liked the change… a lot. Her quirks and idiosyncrasies, her earthy way of living, the smell of her house, and the unlikely Midwestern accent in a Texas girl became things that I liked, and things that I looked forward to continuing to experience.

Things were going great, and I was looking forward to her coming down here tomorrow night for dinner, an art exhibit, and a movie I had saved for her. And then in a bit of irony, a conversation we had about the “ones that got away” became very relevant as she told me today that one of her old flames had been unexpectedly rekindled on a camping trip with friends this past weekend. She was very kind, very apologetic, and as graceful as one could be when letting go of someone.

It may seem ridiculous that I would feel somewhat upset at the departure of someone that I’ve known for only a month. In fact, it probably is. I think about the pain of divorces that more than one of you have gone through, and I feel petty. I think about the hundreds of miles of distance that some of you endure between yourself and someone that feels like home to you, and I feel shallow. I think about the breakups that some of you have endured with people you have loved for years or the people I know who’s best and greatest love has passed away, and I feel like an incomprehensibly self-absorbed fuck.

It is, however, to be expected when I have had such a hard time finding someone that seems compatible with me that it hits me pretty hard – it’s the only thing I know. Add to that my lack of “profoundly intense ambivalence,” and you get a seemingly empty freedom that wasn’t so empty a few hours ago. Those little stimuli that were opening the world, distracting me in the most welcome of ways, and making me smile at random moments throughout the day – those things went from fantastic promises of imminent comfort to impossible memories of how I can not feel, in an instant.

And so I’m a little lost. I forgot what this felt like, and I wonder if it’s really worth repeating in pursuit of something that, with each passing day, I become more and more convinced does not exist. I feel like I’m too old to be dabbling in this anymore. I feel like I shouldn’t toss more money at something when it only results in consistent disappointment. And I would love to tell you that I feel like I should quit looking, but I would only be convincing myself of that in an attempt to motivate kharma or God or Fate or a character played by Michael Landon to present the long-awaited answer to me in the form of a chance meeting by taxi accident or not-so-inadvertent collision in the laundromat.

Truth be told, I would like to not want this anymore.

I’m not crying. I’m not writhing in misery in my den floor alternating between fetal and prostrate positions screaming, “Why?” I’m not even going to rinse this one away with a Jack and Dr. Pepper (well, we’ll see…). This isn’t about Anne (who I think many of you really would have liked, by the way). It’s about not understanding why I can not either find it or shake the desire to do so.

So, I guess I’ll do what I know to do. I’ll think about it. I’ll be a little bit amazed at how quickly reality can change. I’ll wonder what she’s up to, and be a little bit bummed tomorrow night when I’m working and monitoring Idol in the background instead of fulfilling our plans for the evening. I’ll be glad I didn’t find tickets to see David Sedaris tomorrow night. I’ll work today and tomorrow and try to get ahead. I’ll go to Atlanta Wednesday and enjoy the ease that is only available to me through the presence of my dear friends.

And in the process, I’ll be considering change. I’ll be trying to find the opportunity in an otherwise downer of a situation. I’ll be thinking about what I should be doing and am not, or what I should be thinking and am not. I’ll remind myself that I would rather be alone than wish I was.

And I’ll hope that I run into Anne one day. I’ll hope that, if and when I do, that we’re both happy and content, and that we’ll trade a big hug – that we’ll smile at each other, and in doing so acknowledge a fondness for the really brief period of time that just ended.

When I’m done thinking about all of these things, I’ll remember that I was fine before I met her, and that I’m fine now. I am.

But this is getting very, very old.

Damnit!!!!

I'll post more later. This will mean something to only a few of you, but I won't be making any more trips to Bowling Green. Time to rethink.

And is this a good thing? If I don't allow myself to be completely cynical about higher education, then it doesn't make a bit of sense to me.

I just saw "Thank You for Smoking," and I thought it was great. If you only see one movie this year, I recommend that this be one of them.

Also, any readers who have spent a significant amount of time in Athens, GA will appreciate this link to overheardinathens.com. This comes from Sarah S. It'll give you a chuckle.

I hate creative ruts, but it seems that I have been in one for a few days. In order not to sit there and think about what's not happening, I've done the only three things I know to do:

1. Keep trying.
2. Change the routine.
3. Get out of the apartment.

Number one is working somewhat. The results of number two and number three remain to be seen. However, in the process of doing so, I saw a show tonight at my favorite coffee shop in town. For obvious reasons I will post the name of neither the venue nor the artist. Let's just say the person is an up-and-comer.

Long story short (if that's still possible), I witnessed a performance meltdown on par with the worst nightmare any Athens musician has ever had. Naturally, it was the band's fault (as I clearly remember from my old job, it almost always is), and everyone handled it very gracefully. Nevertheless, it was selfishly comforting to see that there is a hitch in the creative giddy-up of someone other than myself. Things are looking up, I reckon, or at least sideways.

Successes and Works in Progress

I'm back, yet again, from Athens. It was a wonderful but all too brief trip. The Gunner's Tuesday concert was expertly programmed and conducted. I was very proud of his work, as were all of us who made it back for the to-do. Good show, old friend.

As Gunner and Russ will tell you, it's very nice when several of us can get back together for a little bit, though I admittedly miss the days of being able to do so on a whim. Following the concert, the Gunner, Chief, Russ, and Trina sat for a spell at the 283. Every imaginable conversation ensued, as it usually does. It's funny... at the moment when you hear the Chief laugh, any time or distance that had separated you from your dearest friends is then confirmed to be gone.

Here are two pics:


The relieved Gunner and the newly employed Russ on the East.


The laughing Leigh and the apparently bloated Brett on the West.

I promise that Trina was there, but somehow she didn't get in the picture. If you look carefully though, I think you can see a little bit of her aura at the bottom or the first picture. Or that could be my finger.

Congratulations to Russ as well for retiring the retail gig and returning to a field he loves. You'll be great.

If you blog and you don't review your material on a regular basis, I recommend going back to the beginning and reading your entire output every now and then. It is amazing how much things have changed in eighteen months.

I'm the middle of that phase of work where the ideas are more scarce than normal. This will change but the sooner the better for everyone's sake. Wish me luck, send good thoughts, or have a beer for me... whichever you prefer.

....... oh, and MT and Cranberry Goddess, thanks for the memories, but I can't figure out who either of you is. Drop me an email and let me know when you get a chance. Thank you!

Idol Chatter 4/11/06

Damnit, Ln. How's that?

I am in Athens and surrounding areas for a quick runout on Monday and Tuesday to hear a couple of concerts by dear old friends, and then back here to work. Life in Nashville is beautiful.

This afternoon has been a busy weather afternoon here in the Mid-South. The local TV station has been covering numerous thunderstorms and tornadoes throughout the area. As they identify a location of fairly certain trouble, the meteorologists have been advising people to go to their "safe area."

Unfortunately, I misunderstood them and I went to my "happy place." It's been a pleasant and worry-free afternoon, but it's a damn good thing I didn't get hit with a tornado.

Ok, so this is completely dorky. But I miss Chorale #3 (told you).

Three things:

1. I hate being sick.
2. I hate being sick and not being able to sleep.
3. (To people on tv) Screaming the truth makes it no more true than when it is spoken in moderate tones.

Idol Chatter and Nashville Cattiness 4/4/06

I don't know why I'm bothering, because I haven't been watching. But here it is. I will catch up soon.

I think I'm getting sick, and I don't like that.

Oh, and take a look at the trailer for the first 9/11 movie that people are complaining about. In spite of their sensitivity, I think the time is almost exactly right. Be warned, it is pretty sobering.

Damnit. More like "One Shitting Moment."

Home again and the airport

Hi.

I’m back from a couple of weeks away. I already posted pics of DC. Shortly thereafter I headed to Chicago for five days to escort another group around town.

I love Chicago. Most of you know that I go once every December. I have had a couple of other chances to go over the years, almost always on someone else’s dime (which I really like). I took an opportunity or two while I was there this time to venture out on my own without looking too intently at a map. I really enjoyed that, and have started to take a great deal of pleasure in going somewhere other than home and acting like I live there. I even wound up helping a nice couple from Detroit find their way to their destination on the L one day. “Just going” makes the world a little bit bigger and a little more amazing every time I do it. I hope to find more chances to do that soon.

Otherwise, life is pretty busy right now. I like being busy, at least the kind of busy that I am these days. My workload is very heavy, and that is a welcome thing. I have started enjoying the simplicity of reading and working out again more than I have in some time. Other parts of my life are better than they have been in some time as well, but none of it seems appropriate to blog about at this point. Nevertheless, life is good.

An overly romantic monologue about the airport

One of the few things that my brother and I enjoyed doing together when we were small was looking at airplanes. We would frequently get my grandparents’ 1962 set of encyclopedias and turn to “Airplane” and just look at the pictures, amazed each time by the same old photos as though it was the first time we had seen them. Our favorite activity was sitting by the side of the runway at the Nashville airport (when you could still do that) and watching the planes land and depart. We were both thrilled when a group trip to the airport once allowed us to sit in the cockpit of an airline jet. We were always intrigued by the pictures or the real thing, and that interest obviously became a profession for him.

At some point, I developed a sort of intellectual/emotional crush on airports. When the then-new Nashville airport terminal was opened in 1988 or so, I would often get my mom to take me to the ticketing area and drop me off for a while. I found a strange joy in wandering around, looking at the different kinds of people that the airport welcomed, considering the number and variety of people that was required to get passengers on an airplane and an airplane off the ground, and just soaking it up.

Today, in spite of the complications that are present in air travel, I still enjoy that. I think airports are amazing meeting points of the most diverse types of people, intents, and destinations. It’s one of the few places that must accommodate the most privileged and the most disadvantaged, as upscale bars and massage spas catering to wealthy clients are regularly passed by wheelchairs and motorized carts transporting the disabled and elderly. It’s one of those places which notoriously houses beginnings and endings, as soldiers arrive from and depart to their orders, kids meet and then say “goodbye” to their non-custodial parents surrounding a rare week together, and best men and bride’s maids arrive for the events peripheral to the weddings of friends from whom they are separated by far too much distance. It’s where long-distance boyfriends and girlfriends meet their other for a much-anticipated weekend, and then depart after being fulfilled by companionship or devastated by the unfortunate result of loving someone that isn’t physically near them. Ex’s, corpses, citizens, nationals, rock stars, washed-up wrestlers, hopeful late-stage cancer patients, alive and productive movers, future murderers, future saints, the lonely, the loved, the glamorous, the people of “inner beauty,” the excited, and the disappointed meet at their most dynamic at the airport.

(I’m a bit troubled by a minor similarity between that bit of gushing about the airport and the lyrics to “Car Wash.”)

Sorry for the wax. I’m still intrigued by the airport and that combination of negative and positive energy that contributes to its vibrancy. I look forward to more destinations in the future, and to more experiences of the crossroads of all of those people heading in different directions for very different reasons.