Hope Rock

Leading Tone: Dream Job

2011-01-04T22:08:00.014+01:00

So, good news! I got a job for Christmas! In all fairness, I was hired a few weeks prior to Christmas, but hey- when Jesus/Santa sends blessings/gifts, you don't question the timing.

A little backstory: Ever since quitting Guitar Center back in October, I'd been posting ads to the Seattle Craigslist site, offering myself as a private guitar tech for hire. My rates were affordable, and so I picked up a few jobs here and there. I've got one really great repeat customer, Gregg, who is thrilled with my work and quick turnaround. He's a great guy.

After two months of C-listing it, I received an E-mail from John Fromel, founder of Fromel Electronics
, which produces some great high-end, boutique effects pedals. Seriously, they're sweet little instruments unto themselves. The E-mail went something like, "I've just opened a small shop in the Seattle area, and we're looking for someone to outsource some repair work. Why don't you come down and meet with us."

I called John, set up a time to meet, and folded my hands in earnest, hoping that something good might come of this. I mean, who gets a job through Craigslist? Plenty of people, I'm sure, but most of them posted resumes! John wrote me out of the blue, based on the candor and veracity of my posting! Unbelievable!

I took a trip down to Leading Tone that Friday, and upon walking in, was greeted by a familiar face. My good friend, Mike Ball, also works for John. "What the heck are you doing here?!", he asked incredulously. Before I could answer, he was hot on the logic trail. "Oh... you're the guy that... with the... ah!" He turned around and took me straight to the back of the shop, which sounds like a longer walk than it is.

"John, this is the guy I've been telling you to hire", Mike announced. I blushed, thanked him, and met John for the first time. We spoke of my experience, of the hopes he had for his little store, and the organic nature in which he'd like to grow his business. Everything he said, I couldn't have agreed with more. I knew I wanted to work here. Little did I know, my qualifications would have nothing to do with my being hired. Evidently, all it took was knowing that I buy things from Stewart-Macdonald, a fine purveyor of instrument-related tools.

"Do you have tools?"
"I've some tools, but I'm expecting the Stew-Mac Nut Making Kit in the mail any day."
"HOLY CRAP! THE KIT?!"
"Yep. My In-Laws bought that for me for Christmas, but I'm getting it early because I've got work that depends upon my having it."
(Long pause)
"We've gotta get you a bench here."

And lo, I was hired. It's been great. John and Mike are the co-workers I've always wanted, each with a great sense of humor and humanity. Both are great musicians, and John even attends the same Church as me! I never imagined I'd look forward to work, but here I am, loving it.

So far, I've restored and repaired numerous instruments, and many with a certain prestige to them. For instance, this 1961 Guild Starfire came in looking dingy, with the headstock veneer separated at the edges. After some serious time spent lovingly cleaning and polishing the body with some special chemical agents, she looks quite the business, and sold for a handsome sum indeed. I also re-glued the headstock veneer with the aid of a well-placed heat gun, and it fell back into place with ease.

Another gorgeous addition to the flock was this 1977 Gibson ES-350T, which was recovered from a storage unit here in town. Most people, when trying to sell an instrument, will tell you it's "virtually unplayed". Well, this one looks as if it's actually unplayed. No wear on the gold hardware, original and unmolested frets with characteristic "nibs", and an although the finish was slightly cloudy from age, a light cleaning revealed the only scratches on her were from the polishing wheel at the factory. The only problem this sweetheart had was, after being kept in its case at varying temps for years, and at full string tension, the neck really didn't want to stay in its pocket; it didn't need a reset, though, and only required a small amount of hide glue in an equally small separation to return to true action and playability. And the sound? As if the heavenly host itself had taken up residence within its entirely hollow frame. Mmmm! She's currently on Ebay, and you can find the listing here.

I have to be honest, though. While the above examples are exceptional both in terms of condition and rarity, the next one is worthy of as much adulation as one would give a Faberge Egg:

My latest restoration project has been this incredible and sonorous 1934 Gibson L-12, complete with the original case, original bill of sale, and a couple of unused, equally old Black Diamond Strings, still sealed in their protective pouches. I have to tell you, this thing is unbelievable. When we received the guitar, it was showing its age with a worn, murky finish, a fingerboard replete with tarnish on the frets and grime covering the fingerboard. Still, one could easily see past all of the dirt of decades passed, envisioning the potential beauty underneath. I deep-cleaned the body, lightly polished the frets (in order to retain some of its elderly patina), and with a razor blade and much care, slowly scraped away at ages of build-up concealing the intricate inlays of bone and pearl. There was, additionally, an area of binding that had separated from the back of the guitar, and so, I glued and clamped the offending section to much success.

Having just re-strung the guitar, I've discovered the serial number intact beneath the ebony bridge, and it's also scratched onto the back side of the surprisingly un-deteriorated pick-guard. With strings tuned to pitch and stretched accordingly, this instrument resonates with a depth and voice which bespeaks of its age and pedigree; an instrument in the hand that one cannot help but feel the passage of time more palpably with each passing tone. Every chord rings true and warm, and the large, soft "V" neck feels as comfortable as the hand of a lover. Stunning in every respect, this guitar has survived the years with a grace and nobility reserved for instruments preceding WW2; I think it will be quite difficult to find instruments from our present era that age even partially as well as this.

*SIGH*

In conclusion, here's to the new year; may it lead to many more blessings for both you and I, and may we all find joy everlasting in unexpected places, at times inconceivable.

Cheers!

ZEBRA HAS TEETH

2010-11-23T11:09:00.006+01:00

Kick
Snare
Kick, Kick
Snare

The zebra has teeth to bite you.

Why does the zebra have teeth?
I don't know.
But don't get too close or he'll bite you
And don't take his sandwiches
because he likes to eat the roast beef with his teeth

I screwed up the lyrics at the talky-warning part, but for the most part I feel like I really captured the essence of the original, which you can find here.

More to come; there is much art to be made.

Good Stuff

2010-04-16T00:20:00.002+02:00

COMING SOON.
NEWS!
THRILLS!
LISTS!
OF MUSIC!
INTRIGUE!
SUSPENSE!
WEDDING!
GIRL!
DETAILS!
INANITIES!
INSANITIES!
INFINITIES!
INSENSITIVITIES!
PROFANITIES!

ALL OF THIS AND MORE!
(INCLUDING UNNECESSARY CAPS!)
COMING SOON

I am so dry.

2009-03-27T07:46:00.004+01:00

I do this sometimes, where instead of writing something, I'll post something I've already written, sometimes to someone specifically. I don't want you to feel like you're eavesdropping, but I've finally been able to put words to what I've been feeling. I wrote this morning to my team leader in Prague, Phil Davis. He's the man, and is well-aware of how much I ramble. He's a saint, the guy!
***

Hey, Phil. Here's some free-range honesty, farm raised for your delight. I am so, so sorry in advance. I hope you have time. Yeargh.

It's been a hell of a year, eh? Going from full-fledged, 'on his way' missionary to 'rethinking' the relationship. I think, honestly, I picked the worst time to have tried to fund raise, but in all truth, I still don't have connections, and I really really really really really suck at keeping up with things. Having a support coach should have done some good, but Dave and I just didn't see eye-to-eye, not that that's anyone's fault. We had some run-ins, and I know I could have been a better pupil, could have spoken up about what my needs were, been honest with myself that things weren't working... all of that.

If I'm honest, I recognize that when things have really gone well for me is when I'm supervised, as in, up-close supervision. I look back at any real progress- at least, when I feel I've made the most- it's been in structure, in a place where my peers held me accountable to my face. The most change in my life was made at the school in Fresno, in the community in Prague. These were times that I felt much more at peace, at home, in process and alive. It's not just the experiences, not just the callings... it's the people and community that really drive me. I crave structure.

I said all of that to say this: I love what Ward is thinking. I love tent-making. It's all I've ever felt good about to begin with. But, again in honesty, I know well that I'm not making progress still. I know that I probably won't make too much progress in the future without something rigid to go with. That wonderfully detailed personality profile even confirmed this.

The analysts told me, "You're operating at levels of high intelligence. [The I.Q. test you mentioned that you once took] told you you're in the 130 range. If we're honest, you're probably a lot higher than that- we're taking 160-190. You may even be a certified genius. The problem is, with all you are, you aren't organized. Your lack of rigidity hinders you, and holds you back from your true potential." I remember this so clearly because, not only was it surprising- and a huge ego boost- it was something true that I've thought about a lot lately. Sure, I gave it consideration back then, but really, I focused a whole lot more on the "U might be a genius, Ur so sm4rt!" part of the conversation. I know. I'm as susceptible to fits of prideful behaviour as any. More so, even.

So i'm realizing and thinking about all of this, and while I'm doing that, I'm thinking of Prague. Questioning why I'm so lazy anymore. Wondering not only if I'm really going, but also if I'm meant to go. Prague is still in the front of my mind, and even though there's so much to distract me here, I still hope. Nothing gets done, but I hope. While I'm hoping, I'm working at a job that I love but don't, doing things that satisfy me but don't, in a family that tries to relate to me but can't, which I try to love but fail miserably. So I try to act all tough, but it's a bust because i mean, look at me. Tough? It's a stretch. I try to get all intellectual and cool, but am really robbing myself of real interaction and inspiration and most importantly, love.

In the midst of all of this, I'm avoiding God. I really am. On purpose. I know, right?

I recently described my relationship with God to my Junior High Small Group leader. I told Melissa, "God and Me? We're like roommates. But we're roommates that don't talk much any more. Yeah, we're there, and we're always in each other's presence, but it's like He's got more important things to do than clean up his clothes." (He DOES have more important things to do, and I know that, but I'm petty and so I'm getting mad. He's not doing what I want Him to, and He's not doing it for me, right now. I know. This is a good analogy.)

"So, God and I aren't seeing each other as much, because I'm a jerk. Inevitably, we pass in the hall, but I'm a jerk, right? He says, 'Sup' and I give him that male recognition nod, and for a moment things are really tense. Awkward. He's just standing there like He knows I have something to say. He wants me to say it, real bad. I can tell."

"So, do you say it?"

"Yeah, but not what we both want me to say. See, He and I both want tears and snot and tissues and 'I'm sorry's' all around. But I'm a jerk, remember? So I point at the laundary room floor, and I ask, trying to be civil, 'You gonna get that?' God says, 'Oh, yeah, I got that. Don't worry'. Then I make something up about having to clean the fridge or something and I nod and walk out."

So why am I really avoiding God? It has nothing to do with the jeans and shirts all over the floor. (That is metaphorical, by the way, the clothing. For what? It's coming.) In actuality, all of that stuff, it's insignificant. I mean, really. What do I care? I don't. I don't need to, at least. It's His stuff. It's ALL HIS STUFF, right? So I should leave it be, and trust that He's capable of tidying up on His own, in His own way.

No, the reason I'm avoiding God is that I have no idea what He's doing. I don't know what He's spending all His time on. I don't know what He's doing or where it's being done, and all the while HIS CLOTHES ARE EVERYWHERE. All I can see, in all of my finite amazement, is this mess on my floor. This ridiculous pile here, right in front of me, that I can't possibly begin to sort out. And what's more is God wears all kinds of exotic fabrics because He's all eco-friendly and world-conscious, so I have no idea what temperature or cycle to use. I'm afraid to mess it up, so I'm useless to fix my situation. I'm rambling, too, which is a terrible habit.

So what I'm getting at, is it's nothing to do with clothes or cycles... It's that I need Him to help and I feel like He's, I don't know... out. I'm a mess. I'm tangled, balled up and tossed in a corner. I am the pile.

I resent God right now because I don't know anything. See, I've never had much direction. Ever. When I felt called to the Mission CA in Fresno, it was great and beautiful and full of hope and joy because I knew something. God pulled back the page so I could see a corner of the picture from the next chapter. Same thing with Prague. When God spoke and said, "Go to Prague and make friends.", it was electric. It wasn't a huge, verbose revelation. It was enough.

I've been home 3 years. I've been a confirmed Missionary for 1. All this time, I've been of the mindset that, yes, I'm going back. Can't get too comfy, folks. I'm in transition. Never settled down. Never learned to be. Just always looking ahead. Never in front of me. I've lost sight of Him, of His will, all because I held too tightly to the little bit I knew.

I'm not saying that I'm not meant to be a missionary. I still feel peace about Prague, about living in that city with this community. I still WANT to be there, which is huge given my attention span. I still wish, hope, dream, pray... all for Prague and Her people.

I'm saying that I don't have a clue what He's up to. I need that clue, Phil. That's why I'm avoiding Him. I'm afraid of not knowing.

I want to know What. How and Why, too.

So, yes. I want to do this fall trip. I want to see how things can come together. I want to pray and fast over it. I would love to make it happen!

That's it. That's who I am at the moment- A confusing, smelly heap.

How are you?

Signed, Heap.

***
Look at this guy. How could I avoid Him?! I'm thinking it's about time we had that talk...

"Come all who are weary..."

Radiohead, Recording, Prayers and Dentists.

2009-02-04T06:05:00.007+01:00

Today, I got the best compliment of my year. I won't say what it was or who said it, but I'll announce my thanks and confess that it had something to do with Thom Yorke of Radiohead. Suffice it to say, it's been quite the good day. So, THANK YOU. That was "All I Need[ed]"

Good week, actually. Last Saturday, I spent many, many hours in the Lebanon Valley Arts and Music Centre recording a demo with the boys in an as-yet unnamed project. I'm hoping the name "Remedios" sticks, but we'll just see. The process took some time, but we're pretty happy with the results. To be honest, the whole project is really a big experiment, which is exciting. We're not conforming to any type of genre, and we aren't saying no to anything. Ideas come to each of us, and songwriting is more or less democratic. Brent, Brandt, Dan or myself will have an idea, and we'll spend our practices building upon it, hopefully churning out some good rockin' while we're at it. And, I've gotta say that I'm really impressed with how far we've come in the space of a few practices. I think that, counting the time spent in the studio, that makes 6 whole practices. We're not wasting any time.

And really, there aren't that many people I'd be so glad to work with. These guys are serious musicians, and they're seriously good. The compositions we're coming up with take interesting twists and rabbit trails, and the more we play together the more I can sense the four of us gelling, meshing together in heart and focus. I'm excited.

We went in around 6:30 PM, and didn't leave until 2:30 AM. And what did we accomplish? Some pretty darn good drum tracks. Overdubs next week! Can't wait. It's good to create again. The hardest part: Lyrics. See, none of us were the chief songwriters in our respective bands, so while our music's great, we're finding the challenge in crafting relatable melodies and lyrics.

Also, I've some other news in the musical realm. Marketa Liskova, a good friend of mine from Prague, has contacted me about some opportunities. She's a Czech singer/songwriter, and she's got a really powerful voice and keen sense of direction when it comes to writing. When I was last in Prague (Feb 2008), I recorded some guitar tracks for her forthcoming record, which drops this summer. Marketa wondered aloud at the possibility of my returning to CZ, even if for a few weeks, just to finish her record. Then she spoke of the possibility of shows, hinting at a tour...

The thing I'm praying about is this: In my limited capacity, I cannot think of a way this would work out. I couldn't balance work and Church and all the millions of other things that go on during the day here. Then there's the question of God's will. Would this be something HE even wants? Because it's something I would want. I mean, heck! I get to be back in the city I love, doing what I love with people I love. How much better could it get?

Remember me? Thanks. I owe you!

Changing gears, I found this on Fark.com today, which is a news aggregate site that i frequent. I guffawed. Here's hoping you do, too. And all I'll say: This kid should never, ever do drugs.

Nothing Spoken, Nothing Lost

2009-01-23T04:40:00.004+01:00

Last week, I turned a respectable 27. Most people rail on me for getting older, citing the fact that my bones will start creaking and my knees won't bend in certain ways and once you hit a certain age it's "all downhill from here" and your back kills you and you've got a mortgage and kids and a loveless marriage and there's that young thing at the super market check-out counter that makes you think to yourself, "If I were 20 years younger...", which you try to wipe from your mind, because WHAT KIND OF PERSON AM I, I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M THINKING THAT but wow is she a looker. They say, "Wow. 27. Wish you could stay young forever, eh?"

To which I reply, "No."

See, it's not that I'm impervious to the common woes of aging; I do sometimes think I've got these ever-increasing numbers and nothing to show for them; that I've missed some extravagant boat ride to the shining city of success; that maybe it's about time I give up on all of my boyish fantasies (of which there are a waning few) and put on a tie and get a desk job. And perhaps there's merit to some of those thoughts, though if I let them in for too long, they tend to set up a camp on the outskirts of my good mood, threatening to overrun when the moment's ripe.

I'm a bit different from my other far-from-ancient friends in that I actually don't mind getting old; in fact, I relish the thought. Why the blank would I WANT to get older? Glad you asked. Because. There. Deal with it. 's what I think.

But really, it's all about me getting older and in turn getting away with things that young bucks never hear the end of. I can remember being at my Gramma's place where a pretty serious card game was going down, and everyone's there. Pap, Nan, Gram, Mom, Dad... the whole clan. Somehow, someone brought up church, and why Pap didn't go. (I'm a little fuzzy on the details) He answered for his actions, or lack thereof, with "Pastor's an ass!" And everyone laughed a little laugh, and Gram slapped Pap in that loving, yet incredulous way she did so often. It was, in that moment, when I envied everyone over the age of 58.

I mean, who could say that?! AND not get ex-communicated from life? NO ONE. EXCEPT our elders. Just brilliant.

Good news: this is a phenomena that you can experience for yourself, in your own community- possibly even in the safety of your own home.

Of course, I'm joking around. But only so. What I'm really after is wisdom. Not just the conventional kind, but that kind that comes only in story form. That's what makes me marvel. Story. I think I've got some pretty good ones so far, but man! There's so many stories yet to come! Stories to share with my kids, my grandkids... Stories like this one:

Today, a woman called in to Menchey Music to ask about Yamaha Clavinovas. I told her some rough prices, and she announced that she'd be there in 15 or so minutes. I told her, "Well, in that case can I get your name and I'll just keep an eye out for you?"

"Oh, you'll know me", she quipped, "I'm Asian."

Some people have senses of humor, don't take themselves too seriously, and love to joke around. There's always the one that makes the day go by quicker. She was so fun!

***

I'm done waxing philosophic on age. I wanted to explain the photos for this post. It's a burning guitar.

Before there's public outcry, let me make a point: 2 huge top cracks, unplayable action and the sheer fact that it's barely made of what you'd call "wood" makes this okay. Really, no one was gonna be able to play this, and it would have cost more to repair it than to just buy another. No hope.

It did, however, make the perfect kindling for a killer birthday celebration. Lucky for us, Josh Smith has a nice little fire pit just outside his home, and even though temperatures were far below comfortable, we toughed it 'till we had a kickin' fire on our hands. I've always wanted to do this, and I'm glad to have the mementos of the first moments of my 27th year. May this year be a defining one.

Music's already been a huge part of this year, with some good results coming out of three of my friends and I getting together and just working with whatever ideas come. I've been writing more, too. So there's that. The song I'm currently writing is about my adoption, and it's called "Nothing Spoken, Nothing Lost". I think. And, with my birthday/ Christmas money, I finally bought a HUGE pedal board to mount my EFX units to. Oh! And my manager, Chris, came in to work with his mandolin, telling me that if I replaced the nut, I get to 'borrow it indefinitely'. YEAH! I've spent the whole last two weeks re-learning what I've forgotten and trying to wrap my mind around these tiny, tiny frets. Best week ever!

***
The last subject I've just got to talk about is Danielle. She's incredible.

Wow. I heard about her from a post on Fark.com, my daily news site, and I've been watching her videos and talking about her music to the point of stalker-status. Favourites of mine include, "Things We Have In Common", "On the Planet Earth", and "We are Hot Dogs". I know that last one sounds silly, but just trust me. It's a beautiful tune, and you're not gonna believe how well what some barely acknowledge as food can be used to further one's understanding of a relationship. She crafts these ingenious, simple melodies that get stuck in me like so many Girl Scout Peanut Butter Patties.

Most of her videos start out with some kind of humor, and one that I love to show people is the one that starts the song "Born in the Wrong Body".

Give this girl some time to sweep you up in her disarming voice and charming wit. Why are there not more girls like this in the world? And hey, if you live in NY, go see one of her shows. And tell her I said, "Sup?"

Four words: Danielle Ate The Sandwich. I'm gonna order both her records next paycheck. I'm very excite!

2008's Top Ten (and then some!)

2009-01-01T20:01:00.024+01:00

Benjamin Michael once asked me, "Michael, is there going to be a top ten list this year?" Not a split second passed when I cried out, "Hell, yes!", then realized I was in Church. I blamed Tourette's because, hey, my special-circumstances gift card expires if I don't use it at least once a year. I kid.

2008 started out lookin' pretty good. While my eyes were fixed squarely on that summer release of Sigur Rós' latest, my ears' interest piqued when rumors of an M.Ward/Zooey Deschanel collaboration loomed. What's that I see? A new Death Cab! I'm sorry, did you say Copeland has a new one coming out? No, way. All in all, things were shaping up well enough.

Then the disappointment crept in. The Death Cab For Cutie was good, but not crucial. Elvis Costello, I love you, but apparently not enough. Actually, it wasn't you at all- i blame the keyboards. And Coldplay! Coldplay! COOOOOOLDPLAAAAAAAY!!!! Three out of ten? I liked so three out of ten? Viva just wasn't the crescendo I had looked forward to, but then again, neither was X & Y. I should have known.

There were plenty of diamonds in the proverbial rough- even a few that wanted to stay coal, as Tom Waits put it- and those worthy good eggs will listed in orderly fashion below. Since I've become keenly aware of the pop bandwagon, I'm going to try to reflect music I actually listened to this year instead of that which is super cool these days. Invariably, the two camps will cross lines, so I hope not to come off as an elitist, my-music-is-WAY-more-obscure-than-yours. In all actuality, there's little obscurity in most of my picks this year. Go find 'em!

13. Thrice, The Alchemy Index Vol. III & IV, Air & Earth
Yeah, there's gonna be 13? Why? Because I live in America, where the credo of such an enlightened people is, "Everyone has the right to sue and everyone gets a trophy!" Yay!

But really, if I were a farrier of fine novelty awards, I would first-class one straight to the door of Dustin Kensrue & Co with a plaque reading, "Most Changed, 1998-2008". They've come a long way, baby.

I have to say, I loved Thrice the first time I heard them in 2002. A friend from a band shoved The Illusion of Safety in my CD deck and I was floored. So much angst, such great guitar riffs! How could it get better?

Looking back through this band's career, the meandering route they've hewn through musical genres makes perfect sense. They've gone from their punk/metal/hardcore roots and re-invented their sound numerous times, from country to digital and now, to a softer brand of rock. Volumes I & II, Fire & Water, packaged together like this latest installment, took cues from their previous, Vhiessu, but showed us a band becoming more and more versatile. They've honed their craft, and though they've still got all of the requisite thrice elements in play, there, peering over the edge of maturity, are digital drums, synths, atmospherics that just make sense. On Air & Earth, we see even more brilliance in melody, harmony, instrumentation and a total mastery of the loud/quite dynamic so utterly lost on today's self-described 'heavy' artists. (I'm looking at you, Underoath! You know there's a clean channel, right?!) And what's better is they pull all of this off, and have done so consistently, without ever sounding whiny, deprived, and screamo-centric as most of their contemporaries. Dustin's vocals are better than ever, easily putting him in the same pretty/ugly school as Billy Corgan, minus the carnivality of it all.This is a huge sounding record, and though it's in volumes it really is one big conceptual effort. Each final song of these discs are in different keys, but deals with the same lyrical themes of man's relationship to the prescribed element, using the same melodic and chordal ideas. If you're looking for something that has some seriously inventive songwriting, thoughtful lyrics wrought with biblical and telluric imagery and feels honest, just go get all four volumes.

12. She & Him, Volume One
Ever see Elf? That blonde-ish chick with the deep, entrancing voice? Or Winter Passing, the Will-Ferrell vehicle that wasn't like the rest that starred that brunette? Okay, okay, but what about the short-lived Sci-Fi Channel re-imagining of L. Frank Baum's Wizard of Oz , Tin Man? Or the only good thing about Matthew McConaughey's Failure to Launch? That would be She.

Ever bought Nora Jones' Not Too Late, and listened to the background vocals and guitar on "Sinkin' Soon? Like Bright Eyes' recent stuff? Him is all over that.

1940's and '50's influenced M. Ward (check out his last release, Post-War, you'll thank yourself) and actress Zooey Deschanel teamed up in 2008 to bring us one of the most sweet and surprising releases since Once won an Oscar. Still hingeing on themes of love and contentment, as well as being hopelessly, sentimentally ruined by someone, there's still a good bit more innocence on this release than on any of the music released by the ginger one and his Czech arm candy. Less of a heartbroken, defeated memoir and more like how Sandy Dumbrowski and Danny Zuko would sound today, minus the car racing and, ugh, Rizzo. There's hope here, and it's relentlessly fun as new love should be. With moments of mouth-only imitations of horn parts, Zooey's forlorn-country-gal vocals, and M. Ward's echoey, sometimes Hawaiian, historic signature sound, this record easily outshines many of the year's others. Really, it's one of my favourites. Mostly uptempo (but never a low point) and shamelessly reminiscent of the best 50's love songs, this record is just brilliant. It's hard to imagine Ms. Deschanel being more desirable than she already is, with that deadpan wit and fair skin. But, welp, there you go.

Congrats to Zooey for becoming engaged to Death Cab's Ben Gibbard!

My deepest condolences to Death Cab's remaining members for the imminent, somewhat tragic loss of their lead singer.

11. Retribution Gospel Choir, Retribution Gospel Choir

At times reminding me of Low and Pedro the Lion, and some of the best rock from better days, RGC has a hunger and ferocity in their mid-tempo compositions that really puts me at ease. I could listen to this all day. But I don't because, of This Will Destroy You, who sadly haven't put out anything in 2008, but deserve mention anyway.

Though there's rarely a moment in this disc that breaks the Guitar-Bass-Drums-Vocals formula, the brainchild of Low singer Alan Sparhawk (interesting that it reminded me of Low, eh?) is described on the Caldo Verde site like this: "Low visionary Alan Sparhawk cranks the amps for a radical stylistic departure. Crude, mangy guitars collide with trudging stoner-rock rhythms and some catchy melodies -- for modern-day spirituals that defy all preconceptions"

It's low-fi all the way, in the same sort of tradition of early Guided By Voices, Sebadoh, Pavement and The Mountain Goats. Anymore, I tire easily of bands who put anything but the song first, and RGC definitely, decidedly makes song structure King, although it's a less ornate title than with other groups. Simplicity reigns, but they are finished-feeling songs. There's nothing lacking, and it perfectly fills the void left by Low and Mogwai and the heavier moments of Starflyer 59. It's a void that needs filling.

10. The Weepies, Hideaway

As much as I enjoy this record, there's not a lot I can say for it. It's not a huge change in cover art, that's for sure. It's not necessarily brand-new sounding, though there's a slickness and freshness to some of the production that's been lacking to previous efforts. The songs are catchy as H, but hey, they've always been, right?

I guess what I'm telling you could be taken as damning, but that's not the case here. It's more of the same, which with the Weepies, it's not a bad thing at all. I really enjoy this band. I find myself stuck on a melody not remembering where I'd picked it up, like gum on the sole. Only this gum is clean, and it's still good. I chew it and chew it, still unsure of its origin but enjoying it purely. All of a sudden, it hits me- and I know it comes from a source of good repute. Seriously, just about every song hooks you like a Sea Kitten. (i meant to write about that a long time ago. Just visit the link and you'll know. Jessica Simpson's gonna be so confused! Oh, and read the story books. Seriously. You guys. Seriously.) Really addictive, folky, poppy, easy music. Hey, these guys made Mandy Moore sound good (she usually just looks good) on Wild Hope, so give 'em a chance. And, much like another die-hard favourite of mine The National, who were #2 on last year's fine list, they've been featured in Barack Obama's Campaign.

Take a listen to "All Good Things", "Can't Go Back Now", "Just Blue", and "Orbiting" and you'll see why these guys could kick all of the a**es of all of the Sixpence None The Richers and any other generic folk-poppers you can name.

9. Ray La Montagne, Gossip In The Grain

In an year full of folk for folk's sake, Ray-with-the-nigh-unpronounceable-last-name (does anyone else feel like they're wrong every time, no matter how you say it?) humbly holds out at arm's length one of the great treasures of the year . It's so good, I gleefully ran straight home from the record store, clutching this disc in my throbbing arms all Charlie Bucket-style, then threw it in a bowl and poured milk over it in order to fully digest it's grainy, wheaty goodness.

Here you'll find deep folk trappings, 1960's good rockin', R&B cues, and that buttery/syrupy, heartbreaking voice that goes just as well with pancakes and toast as an iPod. Where She & Him expresses the heights of new love with excitement, Ray's Gossip is a serious, steadfast take on the subject. It's a record that says to the listener, "You and I are on a journey, and I'm in it for the long haul, baby." It's a picture-perfect rendition of commitment through hard times, with lyrical passages like that in "Let It Be Me".

"Feels like you always coming up last/Pockets full of nothin' and you got no cash/No matter where you turn you ain't got no place to stand/ Reach out for something and they slap your hand/ Now i remember it all too well/ just how it feels to be all alone/ You feel like you'd give anything/ For just a little place you can call your own/ That's when you need someone, someone that you can call/ and when all your faith is gone/ Feels like you can't go on/ Let it be me" This is serious stuff, folks. He's an incredible creative force to be reckoned with. I can't decide... this one or Till the Sun Turns Black? Let's not decide.

L... La... La MonTANE.

08. Russian Red, I Love Your Glasses

This is one of Debbie's favourites this year. She told me I'd love it, and where others have claimed that very thing and scared the bejeezus out of me, she is completely trustworthy. Was she right? It's in the list, isn't it?

Lourdes Hernandez, who hails from Madrid, Spain, knits together some of the most intimate little folk songs you're likely to hear. Shimmering voice and quaint instrumentation go a long way in this release, making for just pretty, pretty music. She's a diminutive girl, with a chirpy voice and the most alluring of accents. Words like 'situation' and 'smoked' and 'outside' get special treatment, which is more than okay with me. I'm even impressed with her cover of Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun"!

07. Lykke Li, Youth Novels

The album's first track, "Melodies & Desires" starts off in hardly less than epic terms. Spoken-word instructions set the mood for the Swedish pop star's debut, and sets it in a big way. Like so many other records on this list, themes are love-based, but this one forgoes the foreplay, and dives straight into a more sensual take.

"Love is the harmony/Desire is the key/ Love is a symphony/ Now play it with me/ You be the rhythm and I'll be the beat/ You be the rhythm and I'll be the beat/ Then I'll be the rhythm and you'll be the beat/ and love, the shoreline, where you and I meet"

Later gems include "And for you I keep my legs apart/ and forget about my tainted heart/ and I will never be the first to say it but still I, yes you know I... I... I..." But even with the sensuality, it lacks the smarmy glow so quickly added to the sum total of American pop stars' releases. Yes, there is a sexual element, but it's in no way as tasteless as the latest Pussycat Dolls' or Spears' track. And it's in the context of some truly interesting music. You can certainly distinguish the influence of Bjorn of Peter Bjorn and John. Some might not enjoy it, but I do. On a drive to visit Meredith in Philly early in December, I popped this in as i was just entering the city and was astounded by how perfect a fit the two were. It's a fun, memorable record that you can't help but appreciate, if only for the play between innocence and deviousness.

06. Dr. Dog, Fate

How fitting, then, that the next consecutive record actually came from Philly? Dr. Dog draws comparisons to 1960's groups like The Band, and rightly so. They sit firmly in that space and own it. Although there's not a bevy of information available about the band, it seems that they all have, or at least had, real jobs including one member being a certified lawyer. Touring with the likes of The Raconteurs and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah can't help that much, though. Nor can putting out a solid slice of Americana. Fate is good to the last drop, psychedelia intact. It is worth every minute of your time.

Tracks of note include "Hang On", "The Old Days", "The Ark" and "From".

And where does one find the blankets that all these album covers exist upon? There's nothing I'd love more than to wrap myself up with these inexplicable images, curling up in some Bright Eyes and Fate, which is Nice and Nicely Done, sitting hot cocoa on Denison Witmer's hand-towel-cum-coaster. Snuggled under my Do Make Say Think and Cinder paintings, the wall paper catches my eye and I think to myself, "Let's Get Out of This Country". Just outside the window, looking past the Ohio tree, I can see mountains of Lekman- far beyond Occupanther forest- and it's about to turn Melody A.M. I drift off now, my mind retracing the Stars at Noon, while Rain Dogs play and snarl. As I finally get ...A Better View of the Rising Moon, I regret that don't have any Umbrellas, as I'm likely to catch Pneumonia. Or some sort of Wesley Willis Fiasco.

Lord, I'm tired. Did you catch any of that? Bonus points if you did.

05. Ryan Adams & The Cardinals, Cardinology

I'm a huge fan of this guy. He's prolific as songwriters come, and he's a killer musician to boot. Problem is, he's got no filter. He puts out an album at least every year, sometimes 3, but sometimes there's only a handful of tracks on each that are really impressive. You get the feeling that he'd be better off just releasing one or two every few years. His last record, Easy Tiger, for example, didn't really stand out at all to me, which as a fan, saddens me. I wasn't sure what to expect with this one.

Lucky me, then, to have had all of my fears assuaged. It's brilliant! A masterpiece! Every song, every one, is great. From the first acoustic guitar line to the last piano refrain is singable, memorable, lovable. Songs like "Go Easy" and "Magick" showcase Ryan's country rock roots, while "Fix It" and "Let Us Down Easy" give us a glimpse of the soul that lurks deep within. "Cobwebs" is just huge, while "Crossed-Out Name" is subdued. It's a great sounding record, rife with Fender amps and Fender and Gibson instruments going for absolutely vintage tones. Heck, the guy was a huge part of my last decision over what guitar to go for.

The only song I would leave or take would be "Natural Ghost", and that's only because my withered ears still can't quite fall for the chorus line. Sounds squished. Still, good song, even though it's not my fave.

It's true; this one surprised me, and it was only the most pleasant of surprises. I love it. It's one of the few CDs that stay in the case it came in, kind of an elite group of things I like to listen to and look at. If loved songs like "La Cienga Just Smiled", "Cry On Demand", "When the Stars Go Blue", even songs from the Whiskeytown days, you owe it to yourself to pick this one up.

04. Colm Mac Con Iomaire, The Hare's Corner

This is the first solo release from the violinist of Irish band The Frames and also The Swell Season which both include Glen Hansard of the film Once. Though he tours relentlessly with both acts, Colm is very much a talented musician and composer in his own right. From multi-instrumental songs to a few with Colm looping violin over violin, live, this record has more to it than meets the eye.

Colm himself explained the title of this year's best instrumental album, which I will paraphrase. A hare's corner was a spot on a large piece of farm land left as a refuge for the rabbits to run to when equipment came out and farmers got tired of having crops destroyed. They would leave a little patch untouched, vegetation free for the taking and land left for burrowing. It was almost an unspoken agreement between the farmers and they; "If you stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours" sums it up.

What does this mean for Colm's release? His album, though purely instrumental, has much to do with preserving heritage, and more specifically, his language. You see, Gaelic, like many other languages, is in danger of fading away completely because of the widespread acceptance of English. In Ireland, there are still strongholds known as 'Gaeltachtaí', meaning 'Irish speaking regions' that have mostly been spared from the harvester's sicle. Still, danger still looms.

Another meaning to the metaphor comes directly from Colm's Hare's Corner Site:

"The Hare has long been associated in Ireland with the Superstitious and the Supernatural and was considered to be the 'Shape-Shifter', the traveller between worlds.
I was captivated by the metaphor of the "Hare's Corner"..
It represents for me the wild and mysterious source of the many rivers of music and imagination..
The music here on this record are the strange gifts I returned with from my many walks in the long grass!"

That says it all. I encourage you to seek out this music and really, buy it. Not only is it a great listen, Colm is really one of the most stand-up guys I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Much more stand-up than an other certain Irishman.

Click the link above for his awesome dual-language site.

03. Fleet Foxes, Fleet Foxes

This has been the year of dual album covers. It seems that a few of my favourites from this year have come in two forms: the widely-released version and the hey-where-did-that-come-from version with the cover only I have. I'm confused not only because there are two different covers, of which i prefer the simpler, colored box version, but because there happens to be a different title associated with the one I like. Strangely enough, there exist all of the same tracks on either version, so either my iTunes has crapped on itself, or I'm just that cool.

No matter which cover you prefer, this one is for keeps. The vocal harmonies are stright out of How to Sound Like The Beach Boys book 1 and they do the job well. They take it further from the car and girl obsessed days of yore, instead writing about squirrels, snow, tigers, strawberries, and my name. Really, you could call this one close to Animal Collective, the Zombies, and others in the vein, but these guys stand out as something uniquely entertaining, and eminently listenable.

02. Delta Spirit, Ode To Sunshine

Benjamin Michael told me, "It's like drinking songs. You'll love it." He is another that I trust, so I gave it a spin, but only after I worked up the nerve. See, that description, though accurate, didn't prepare me for how good this really was going to be. I thought, 'oh, it's just a bunch of drunks singing.' What Ben meant is that you grab a lager, and you listen. Piano and guitars surround the hooks in these songs like the kid with the most lunch money. I couldn't help but be taken back to early Ben Folds, but there's more group fun here. Lots of gang vocals, lots of spindly little nuances to be had.

And again, it really does feel like songs to drink to. Not to forget, but to remember. Imagine at a big family gathering, you all start telling stories, and your dad gets up, sits at the piano, and starts singing songs connected to that time you fell off the swing set, and your Aunt Mildred fell off the wagon... again. Think the opening sequence of "All in the Family", but without the racism.

I LOVE THIS RECORD. It's fun, it's singable, the back-beats make it danceable, and it's better if you put your arms around those to your right and left. Ugh. Spill your drink, then get this.

01. Sigur Rós, Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust

You knew it. It had to be this band. Of all of the bands it could've been, this was the only one that takes the coveted #1 spot. Why? Because they're one of the few bands that make art anymore. Sure, there's a ton of bands who throw guitars down stairs and call it art, but when it comes down to it, how much can you listen to it?

That's where Iceland's favorite band comes in. (for realsies, in a survey, Icelanders identify with this band more than any other. Sigur Rós has become a source of national pride.)
Their sound has been called all kinds of things- enigmatic, atmospheric, etherial, cinematic, epic (me, various times)- and still, others scratch their heads at the boys' lengthy compositions, many of which are sung in a made-up language known as Hopelandic. Yes, most of the time it's just the same sounds repeated over the course of a whole song, but I happen to adore it. Georg Holm, the band's bassist, once told an interviewer that it's "interactive music", meaning that they aren't trying to directly say anything with their music- the point is for the listener to get out of it what they will.

Many people first hear Sigur Rós and ask two questions, the first being "Is that a girl singing?", the other being "Really? That's a guy?" Jonsi sings in a pained falsetto that's only added to the mystery of their creations, and balances perfectly with his guitar technique. What technique? The technique of using a Cello bow to play the electric guitar. The sound can be described as a "cello on steroids" (me, all the time) and is huge. Like a moan or a wail that keeps going, the droning notes he plays mix perfectly with the low-toned bass and pulsing drums, the wiry keyboards.

They use all kinds of other instruments to craft their songs, including marimba, guitar, many, many drums, pianos, the all femal string quartet that travels with them, Amiina, and various toys to add to the mood. At times, they use an entire marching band.

Each of their records mark great strides in developing their sound, and you get the feeling that the band really does intend to make the greatest music they can. Each record has gotten bigger and better, and this last one is no exception.

Almost altogether, they leave behind the bowed guitar and instead focus on Grandpa's Guitars- there's lots of acoustic instruments here, and what's that? Real words? Lyrics for this record were written in both Icelandic and English, marking the first time that any of the West-Germanic tongue creeping into their compositions. Even though it's hard to decipher, the words on the album's final track, "All Alright" fit perfectly. But what does it all mean?

Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust means, roughly, "With a buzz in our ears, we play endlessly" evoking a love of the craft that's sometimes hard to find in today's commercial music. Music really is their mission, and from the first beats of track 1, Gobbledigook, they hit the mark. Gobbledigook marks what will end up being their happiest record to date. Tribal and heartbeat stabilizing, it's hard to listen without feeling like you're part of some secret club of people who enjoy life, dancing, and simply being. Check out their performance of the song with Bjork at Nattura to get a feel for just how mob-like this song can get. With two strings on his guitar, and at least 4 times as many drums involved, it's hard not to clap, get happy, and sing along with what little you can understand. It's FUN.

The album looses no steam from track 2 (Inní mér syngur vitleysingur, in case you were wondering) on, with that one containing one of the most uplifting bridge sections I've ever heard. It all leads up to an explosive, joyful outpouring and leaves warm fuzzies in the stomach of all around. Things stay pretty throughout, but a personal favourite is the 6th song, Með suð í eyrum. Piano ornamentation ranging from simple to complex provide the basis of a truly beautiful song. You don't need to know what the words mean to get it. As big a language problem could exist here, the chills that come at the eruptive finale make things as overt as they need to be.

This has got to be one of my top records, ever. Yes, I did order the special edition as soon as they announced it, complete with my name in the back along with all of the other enslaved thousands that ordered it as well. It came in a beautifully bound, 200 page book replete with tourphotos and special edition DVD chronicling the making of the record. It even came with an actual strip of film from the video for Gobbledigook! I've got a naked lady on 16mm! Was it work the $100? Yes. And it's the most amount of money I've ever spent on a band, ever. Unless you count the $3000 on a guitar that I bought this year that was kinda influenced by hearing and seeing Ryan Adams', but that's only indirect. So i don't.

This record perfectly encapsulates the year for me. A year full of surprises, both good and bad, and being able to stay afloat no matter what came along. This band is the band of all bands. The number one on my top 5. That's why I know almost every word. Now if I can just see them live...

I suppose another thing I'm happy about as far as music goes this year is just how good the cover art has been this year. As i looked over my choices, I was sad that some wouldn't make it in because they just look so good together. Thank you, iTunes coverflow!

So that's it. That' s my list.
Merry New Year!
Hope 2009 turns out some equally wonderful tunes. Later!

Honorable mentions:

Underoath, Lost in the Sound of Separation. I'm not mad, guys, and I don't mean to poke. When the pendulum swung from the sing-along-sensibility of parts of They're Only Chasing Safety to the raucous, purely metallic fury of Define the Great Line, i was ecstatic. I only hoped the pendulum would keep on swinging. It didn't.

Death Cab for Cutie, Narrow Stairs. You took Zooey from us. Yer off the list! Really, this one was good- good enough for me to actually learn both the guitar and bass parts, but where it excels as being lesson fodder, it fails in being entirely memorable. I love the song "I Will Posess Your Heart", but I just can't take 4 minutes and 32 seconds of heady build-up. Killer bass line, just too long.

Weezer, Red Album. This one was better... It's no Pinkerton.

Vampire Weekend, Vampire Weekend. I like it. I just don't adore it.

R.E.M., Accelerate. Slow it down, there, Chuck.

Sun Kil Moon, April. Just narrowly edged out by just how much i loved that Russian Red, someone had to be sacrificed and it was you. I loved it. Really, really great, though. Except in the context of a numerical list, i'd say this one was indispensable.

MGMT, MGMT. I know, i know, i just haven't given you enough of a chance. I'm gonna.

M.83, Saturdays = Youth- equal parts catchy and longwinded.

Noah and the Whale, Peaceful, the World Lays Me Down. Quirky and fun.

Foxy Shazam, Introducing Foxy Shazam. Foxy, oh Foxy. You're such a darling. A friend shoved this onto my harddrive declaring, "This will rock your ******* face off!" It's hardcore music, with all the screaming and buzzing riffs -but get this- it's piano driven. Interesting. Ultimately, a novelty listen. Still good.

Notes of interest:
If only Dethklok would put out a second.
And for those that may be concerned: I didn't yet get My Morning Jacket's latest, nor did I have a chance to get Portishead's Third, or Elbow's Seldom Seen Kid. I will, though.
And Mr. Tom Waits, I'm waiting as well. take your time, it will be worth it.

The happiest, happiest, happiest, joyful, wonderful time of year.

2008-12-25T22:58:00.005+01:00

I wish I was so unblemished by the malaise of the holiday season. It's not that I'm scrooged out of my mind- working in retail surely can't help, though- it's simply that the day has become so entrenched in that perfect gift, that family feast. I miss the Muppet Babies innocence of it all, this day unspoiled by the bacchanal of capitalism. Still, without much sifting through of the annually broadcast holiday muck, Jesus' presence is found. I am thankful.

Yay Christmas! Yay Decemberween!

Jožin z bažin

2008-11-08T05:31:00.005+01:00

And that's that.

Jedu takhle tábořit škodou sto na Oravu.
Spěchám, proto riskuji, projíždím přes Moravu.
Řádí tam to strašidlo, vystupuje z bažin,
žere hlavně Pražáky, jmenuje se Jožin.

Jožin z bažin močálem se plíží,
Jožin z bažin k vesnici se blíží,
Jožin z bažin už si zuby brousí,
Jožin z bažin kouše, saje, rdousí.
Na Jožina z bažin, koho by to napadlo,
platí jen a pouze práškovací letadlo.

Projížděl jsem dědinou cestou na Vizovice.
Přivítal mě předseda, řek mi u slivovice:
"Živého či mrtvého Jožina kdo přivede,
tomu já dám za ženu dceru a půl JZD."

Říkám: "Dej mi předsedo letadlo a prášek,
Jožina ti přivedu, nevidím v tom háček."
Předseda mi vyhověl, ráno jsem se vznesl,
na Jožina z letadla prášek pěkně klesl.

Jožin z bažin už je celý bílý,
Jožin z bažin z močálu ven pílí,
Jožin z bažin dostal se na kámen,
Jožin z bažin tady je s ním amen.
Jožina jsem dohnal, už ho držím, johohó,
dobré každé lóvé, prodám já ho do ZOO.

(Title link goes to Wiki info. I miss CZ!)

I've got a new partner riding with me.

2008-10-31T04:35:00.010+01:00

Buying a used guitar on Ebay is like getting a mail-order bride. Sure, it's fulfilling a need (in some sick way) but you're never quite sure what you're getting. For one, she could look completely different from the pictures. She'll show up at your door in a couple of days and her waist is a bit wider than you remember. She shows her age like it's a speed limit and that promised 'sonorous' voice is, in reality, a gruff croak.

But lucky me! This arranged marriage seems to be working out just fine. She's a 9/10 condition, all original, 1977 Gibson ES-355 TDSV (Thinline, Double Cut, Stereo with Varitone). It was the top-of-the-line model in its day, with gold hardware, Maestro Vibrato unit and multi-ply binding all around. This is the very model that B.B. King played before he wrote "Lucille" on the headstock and was given a signature model. I picked it up on Wednesday night from a guy in Reading, which saved me the shipping cost. The gentleman who owned it previously claims that he hasn't played it in 20 years. While i'm not usually inclined to believe such talk, the guitar is in fantastic condition. It lacks the usual "belt-buckle rash" and typical play wear. Even the gold hardware is in superb condition! And for the record, I had to re-wire the output jack because the guitar is meant to be used with 2 different amps. I haven't got two (hardly one) and so, i set about the task of changing that. Took 4 hours, but not because it's hard to re-solder some wires. No, it was hard because you have to fish the entire control harness out of the 'f' hole. No fun. In the process, i ended up breaking the Varitone control knob. Thank God for super glue!

Why did I buy a new (old) guitar? For one, I've only got one electric, and while it's the best guitar I've ever owned and I love it, I'm getting a bit concerned with the amount of use it's getting; since my return from Prague, I've had to replace the nut twice, both volume controls and a fret re-crowning, all of which costs a decent amount of money. With so many repairs in the last few years, I figured it's time to get a backup.

Secondly, I've been on a search for new tones. After having the same guitar for close to 8 years, I started craving some variation. I specifically did not want to buy another Les Paul because i needed to hear something different. I considered Telecasters, Jazzmasters, SGs and Thunderbirds. There was a point where most of my friends tried to talk me out of buying a Gibson Doubleneck, which i still think is pretty boss. In the end, the big, brown hollowbody won out, due to both its sexiness and the open, airy tone they're known for.

The last reason i chose this guitar is Ryan Adams. He's one of my favourite musicians and he gets some incredible sounds from one of these. He calls his "Peanut". His is much lighter than mine, but i kind of like it darker. It's one of those guitars you have to look at twice. In certain lighting, and in some photos, it's difficult to tell whether the guitar is black or brown. Click here to see the video that made up my mind for me.

It's only been a few days but i can already tell that i'm really happy with my new partner. The only thing left is to learn how to effectively use that walrus tooth.

Oh, and here's another tidbit: The previous owner claims that Kool and the Gang recorded their record with this guitar. Yeah, THAT Kool and the Gang. "Yeah, that's right. Kool and the Gang. "[The one guy in that band] loved this guitar so much, always wanted to buy it but never did." He can't prove it or anything, but still, a fun fact to never ever tell anyone. Celebrate!

Holy... Oh my... assorted laughter

2008-10-17T07:51:00.005+02:00

Just now, this happened:

Her name is Corrie Jacoby, and hot-damn! That's a welt.

(These photos were not manipulated in ANY WAY. They came straight from my camera, onto your screen.)

We were play fighting. Tickling ensued. A bit of abrasive, yet good-spirited name calling. Even some slapping. Then she laid this whopper on me.

I've never seen something so well-defined in my life! That's the back of my thigh, by the way, and when the night is drawing to a close i sometimes like to don my blue shorts. This was obviously the wrong choice of apparel for such a vigorous session of laying smack upon one another.

I mean, holy crap! You can see EACH FINGER. You can even see the knuckles. Look closely at that ring finger. See anything that stands out? Like a FRIGGIN' RING?!

I mean, JEEZ. It's even raised up from the surrounding skin. Enough that you can even kinda tell from the photos. I just spent the last 20 minutes laughing to the point of tears because, really- have you ever seen something so impressive! Sure, it hurts, but her aim was true. I applaud her for that.

I can't wait to see if it turns into a bruise! Maybe i can claim abuse and get a fat settlement! This is so cool i can hardly wait for bed time! I know that when the sheets are over me, i might even kick and yell!

... and my apologies; that is my rump. But we all have to make sacrifices, and in the spirit of sharing, there's really no way to avoid it.

More updates as they... develop! It's like I'm a Polaroid! (And yes, i'm gonna shake it.)

This is what you've waited for!

2008-09-28T19:18:00.009+02:00

My photos for this post suck, i won't lie. I think you'll understand the lack of pictures, though.

Last Sunday, Corrie Jacoby and I jumped into my car and trekked across Pennsylvania to see The Swell Season!

Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová were well worth the 5 hour drive to Pittsburgh's Byham Theatre- which would have been much shorter had the 376 not been closed for freakin' construction. We waited in traffic that sat nearly motionless for about an hour before we decided we knew our own route there. It worked out.

The show started at 7PM with Bill Callahan opening the evening. He began on what i thought was a high note, with a sullen baritone and an energetic drummer. His songs seemed to drag on a bit, but before long they'd seem to pick up a little. But, being that they were only a two-person band- and the fact that their songs had little dynamic- the more time passed, the more their songs plodded along. I really wanted to like the majority of his material, and i will admit that there was a good bit i could get into. However, by the end of the set I found myself clapping not for the brevity of their compositions, but merely for the seemingly speedy passage of time. That's harsh, but when you're a 2-piece, you've got to bring something different to the table. I'll give Bill this, though, that i loved his tone and the use of his fingers. I venture to say I'd even play bass for the man. But there just wasn't much there to hold my attention. And, as the opening act for G&M, there could have been a gangrenous spider monkey beating a hi-hat cymbal with his own screaming head and, as long as he kept it short, we'd have loved it.

Glen and Markéta took the stage politely, and immediately drew us "Into The Mystic" of their music. A mix of old and brand-new, the set had twists and turns that gripped even this ADD-addled mind. After the Van Morrison standard, the duo went straight into "Falling Slowly". It was sweet, performed by themselves, and really set the mood of the performance.

Glen was magnanimous as he always is on stage, playing games with those of us brave enough to yell something out. Some woman in the pit let out an almost tourettic "WOO!!!" as he was tuning his guitar. He perked up, peered in the direction of the noise and asked, "Did... Did you have a question? D'you wanna, well, erm. After, afterward. Yeah." Early in the set, he apologized for his use of the F-word as if it were a comma, saying, "I'm sorry. I'll really try to stop that. You see, I'm Irish, and after 800 years of having English forced on us, we said, 'Alright, we'll speak it, but we're gonna pervert it as much as we can!', you know."

Hearing the familiar songs of the set was what we all came for, but the real treat of the evening was the fresh work interwoven within. I can't recall any titles, but suffice it to say, i cannot wait for their next release. There was a somber mood to a great deal of it, which Glen also made amends for, "This song, um, again, is about letting go of someone... Like every other song we've got. Sorry about that. It's kind of what we do."

There were even more surprises to come, though, as Glen invited a good friend of his to do a song with them. His name is Mark Dignam, and he and Glen grew up together in Dublin. Before beginning, Mark dedicated his moment in the sun to his 12-day old daughter. His song had a decidedly Neil Young vibe, but I think I'd rather listen to Mark right now. (No offense, i love Neil) All i can remember of any new song i heard that night is the chorus to Mark's song. "The rain is not forever, it comes and goes"

Before they left the stage that night, Mar gave the stage over to Colm Mac Con Iomaire, who's been touring with Glen and The Frames for over 18 years. She told us that he'd just recorded his first solo project, and that we should get the music any way we can. He performed a song called "Blue Shoes" solely on violin. He would loop himself and continue recording over it, creating a soaring, almost vocal piece that wouldn't soon leave my mind. Yes, I've got the record. And yes, it is incredible. Purely instrumental and brilliant.

If i had to pick a moment of the night that really made it for me, I'd have to say that the ending of the set with one of my favourite songs, "Red Cord" would be it. Exactly as I'd hoped it to be, the full-band experience made for the perfect end to a wonderful night.

We waited around after the show to see if we could catch Glen and the gang for some signatures. Even with Corrie holding doors for the road crew, it took a while to figure out which door and which tour bus to stand close to, but soon we found one lonesome chap sitting on a step outside the venue. Now, if you know anything about Corrie, you'll know she's really, really outgoing. Where I'm reserved, she will usually take charge; she marched straight up to Colm, who was nursing a beer at the time, and said, "Wow, I wish I were you right now!" (she was totally not hitting on him) They spoke for a brief moment, and the next thing i know, Colm hands Corrie his beer and I say, "Hey, man, you were great tonite." Then she realizes who he is.

We spent some time talking with Colm, about whom i can't say enough nice things. He was endlessly kind, asking us about ourselves instead of talking about his downright heavenly musical abilities; we even had a good chat about my musical history! Mark Dignam joined us after a time, and the four of us shared laughs and stories while Glen signed posters.

I brought my recently purchased Little Martin in hopes i could get some signage myself. While we waited for Glen to finish up with the others, Colm entertained Corrie, Mark and I with some quiet strumming of my guitar. When he'd given me his approval, i asked him to make it official. just above the bridge, he wrote, "This guitar kills fascists!"* Mark even joined in with his name below. Colm rushed inside and came out a few minutes later with a bag full of bottles. He smiled and said, "Hey, do you two want a beer?" It was a gesture I really appreciated, especially later on. When i finally got hold of Glen, it became apparent that he was either tired or had a bad evening.

I asked him to sign my guitar, but he protested. "Why? Why would you do that?", he asked. I confess, i had no answer, except that I'm a huge, huge fan of his work and that I'd driven out to see him. Neither reason seemed good enough to speak, so i kept silent. Still, he did sign the guitar, though reluctant he did seem, and stopped in the middle to pluck the strings and shake his head. Corrie noted the many bracelets on his wrist and asked what they were. He responded, tersely, "It's just a thing."

I can't say that i wasn't let down a little- because Corrie would call me a liar and add, 'a lot'- but every one's entitled to have a rough night, i suppose. Even so, this was my one unbridled expression of fan-ism ever, really. I decided to put my camera away then, knowing I'd probably not want to immortalize the moment. I did feel a bit petty when he asked once more why i would have him do this. "Here!", he questioned as he pointed to a spot on the back of the instrument. "Why not have me sign on the back?!"

"You could've!"

That's all i could get out. "Right", he said, and handed back my tattooed instrument. Even some of the guys we'd met earlier were surprised at the reaction. A bit bruised, a little shaken, i packed up and started to walk off. Colm bade us farewell, and Mark joined us, wishing us well on our long journey home. Looking back, yeah the last bit sucks, but the 30 minutes prior with Colm and Mark being so kind and sharing favourite quotes and some history greatly overshadows any ill experience in the past. All in all, it was a great evening, and i met some really amazing people. I'm smiling now just thinking about it.

I just glanced up and there's the beer Colm handed me on my dresser, waiting to be enjoyed...
And, hey, I still got my guitar signed!

*Woody Guthrie was well-known for displaying the slogan, "This machine kills fascists!" on the face of his guitar. Thanks to Colm, I'm now connected with the Dust Bowl Troubadour in some small way. That's, like, the coolest thing he could have written! Such a reference! Such a charge!

Wow... just, um. Wow!

2008-09-11T05:11:00.006+02:00

I haven't updated for a little while. I'm sorry! I had a nice rhythm going there and it just dropped off. Thanks so much to everyone who left rejoicing in the comment section! Especially Vicky!

Reason #1: I've been working on Missions. Sent out letters, had meetings, and though i still haven't been able to raise support, i'm feeling encouraged. I had a meeting today with Andy from Living Word, the church at which I am a leader. Andy was great to speak with, and had a few discouraging as well as a few encouraging things to say:
- He loved my letter. "Once i read the first few paragraphs, I wanted to read more. I had to meet with you." He even liked the 'personal touch', namely the 8 photos I sent with the letter, all with stories and assorted succulent morsels of information. He told me that in all the years he's been in the missions department at LWCC, and out of all of the letters he's gotten (at least 50 a year), mine was the most compelling. He loved it. HUGE encouragement.

The discouragement came when he laid this whopper on me: Due to the falling economy, every church he's in contact with in the area has stopped taking on new missionaries. In fact, most have dropped missy's in the past year. So please, pray!

He left the meeting on a high note, though. He said he'd like to keep the conversation open, and that he's excited about what God's doing in Prague. He's even open to the idea of sending teams once in a while to come help out. Especially English camps.

Reason #2: Rental Season. At Menchey Music, this time of year is known for being super busy. Why? Area schools are just beginning to start up their individual bands and orchestras, and when kids pick instruments they come to Menchey to rent them. It's great, seeing [some] people get excited about music. The only downside is actually filling out the rental contracts. I just pray that we don't run out of ones that come already filled out.

Reason #3: I haven't been able to come up with something to write. I've deliberated with myself for an entire month. I mean, how do you top the last post! How?!

What have i come up with? Nothin. I got nothin.

No worries, because i just saw this video on YouTube
The forum is now open for discussion. Why come up with crap to write when there's a song like this out there? Click above, or the amazingly apt title. I mean, really?!

Sickened? Maybe this will give you something else to mull over.
Just trust me on this one. You'll be glad you stayed once Charlie Chaplin starts speaking. (1:08) And remember: this was in 1940- US hadn't yet declared war, and FDR was determined to keep the States neutral. It's not a mockery, but a call to change. Moving.

Sto

2008-08-10T21:35:00.006+02:00

Wow... Now i know what it feels like to have one hundred of something. All of those sit-com celebrations and Centennial commemorations now appear meaningful. I venture to think that i should throw a party, maybe say something nice about my blog, you know.

One hundred posts in 3 years isn't all that much, but when i noticed my dashboard counter creeping that way, i wanted to have something special to say. So i put off a few posts. One never made it to the page. I just felt like there was going to be something to celebrate- more than just how much rambling i've done these last few years...

Well, wouldn't you know it? I've got something to celebrate.

Gosh, I've been so worried about these bills. $9,000 in Hospital fees, $1,000 for anesthesia. I mean, just give me a box of wine. I'll take care of it myself! I've been praying for favor with insurance companies, trying to dedicate my sleepless nights to prayer and trusting Him rather than racing thoughts and elevated heart rates.

On Thursday i received a call from my insurance company. Amy, my contact there, informed me that i'd be covered under their part-time benefits plan, then apologized for the stress they've caused and for not handling things more appropriately. Even better: the dues for insurance will go to an arrears account, so if i ever get hired by Borders again, they'll just take the money out of my paychecks then. I asked, "So, what does that mean?"
"You're making out!"

I don't have to pay any of the money back to them, so essentially i'm getting free coverage. That's such a huge blessing!

... but as of Friday night, it got better. The Healthy York network, an organization that helps those without insurance pay for their medical bills sent me a notice. After filling out their application, i thought for sure that i was denied. It turns out that not only was i approved to be covered by them, but I qualify for 100% coverage. Quoth the nice lady at Wellspan, "I'm sorry sir, but your bill's been taken care of!"

I feel relieved. Covered. Loved. He has once again shown me grace. I do not deserve this, but He has taken care of my needs. I can't believe it. Yet, it was meant to cure my unbelief. He is good.

Someone told me today, "You're beaming."
I couldn't agree more. I'm completely floored at how great His love for me truly is. He has blown away every expectation of provision that i had, and He's shown me just how close He really is. I'm reminded of Matthew 6:26.

"Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?" (NASB)

"Saying the hill's too steep, well, they'll talk and talk forever but they'll just never climb..."

2008-07-25T05:43:00.006+02:00

-"Star, Star", The Frames.

I sent this out last week to almost everyone listed in my e-mail contacts list. I prayed while writing this, and I do hope to make good on my word. Please remember me as i struggle against my flesh and make a decent effort towards this great and terrible responsibility.

***

As i've mentioned previously, i know the perils of sending mass emails. There's the chance that junk e-mail filters won't accept them, and then if they get through one runs the risk of alienating the recipients because it's not the most terribly personal way of communicating. I assure you, i am in no way trying to sell you a 'male enhancement' drug, nor am i about to foward all of you something silly, citing the fact that i "don't usually do this, but really thought you'd like to see this picture of a puppy that kind of looks like it's smiling with a caption that says, 'You make me smile'; nor will i ever, under any circumstances, request that you send it to 15 of your closest friends or else u cud wake up 2morrow w/o N E Friends! OMG!

Not that i have anything against puppies or smiles or friends. I know, i know. Run-on King. Yep. I get that a lot.

THE REAL purpose in sending this mass email is twofold. First, i wanted to keep you up to date on my recent brush with appendicitis. For those of you that didn't know: My appendix rebelled. Thank you all so much for your care, concern, and prayer. I can't tell you just how good a feeling it was when i finally stretched after 3 weeks of unstretched misery. Try not stretching for a while, then stretch. It's the only thing better than Q-tipping your ears.

I'd say i'm pretty much fully healed now; I've gained back the better portion of my mobility and the only time my incision hurts anymore is when i get punched by the odd Borders customer, which was not as fun as it sounds. God has been good in that, though, as i've heard stories of people who have been bed-ridden for weeks on end by this surgery. My recovery was speedy and complete, and i cannot deny His hand upon me as i went under the knife and returned to work just a week and a half later. The only other loose ends to tie up are those that relate to insurance. I was cancelled without notice, finding that out while in the ER, so i've been trying to work things out in a civil manner. I'm not able to say where things are going, but i'm hoping i won't need a lawyer. Again, HE is good. So it's just another chance to trust Him.

The SECOND reason: I must confess to you my fallen nature.

In March, i was hired by World Harvest as a missionary assigned to Czech Republic. In many ways it's a dream come true. Very much a family, the WHM team blessed me greatly while i was in Prague, and that blessing carried through to the Sending center here in America. Seriously, they're all wonderful people.

Sad to say, then, that i've not lived up to my calling. I've worried about money- and not just the kind that needs to be raised to return to Prague- and subsequently made the 40 hour work week a major priority. I've placed my bills above fund-raising. I've squandered away my time with pursuits that, even if they were important, weren't. SO i submit myself to God, and to all of you, to ask forgiveness. I know that there's so much more i could be doing for this. If i'm honest, fund-raising isn't exactly my favourite thing to do. In fact, it ranks slightly lower than laundry and slightly higher than ripping up old carpeting for Grandmother. But i'm always glad to help out.

In all sincerity, it's not that bad. I've had a few speaking engagements at Church, but to this day i've raised NO support. I've given some effort, but the lack of response has taken a toll upon me. I became lax in my commitment and spent less and less time on this good work. So i beg your pardon as well as your prayer. I need it. If it were up to me, nothing would get done. Such is Michael! There are things to which i am motivated, and there are those that slip by me. Please remember me in this season as i wrestle my flesh. I really want to better myself and i desire to step into the role that God is calling me to. If He and Prague and its people are really that important to me, wouldn't my actions show this?

I intend to remedy this discrepancy. Please forgive me.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for each of your friendships, whether near or far, close or distant.

God bless, and once again- thank you. You all mean so much to me.
Michael James Adams.

Menchey Means Music (figuratively speaking)

2008-07-17T06:20:00.015+02:00

I love my job. I can't stress that enough. (see last week's entry for just one of the reasons why)

Other reasons:

Cathy- my manager.(see pic) She's incredibly patient with me and my inability to perform basic maths. Even though she's my manager, she's become a friend as well- kind of the anti-manager. She's a cat lover, and if anyone's interested, there's a Maine Coon up for grabs due to rising allergy concerns. Don't worry, she's got plenty of other cool cats. Cathy, as i've mentioned, has been endlessly patient in teaching me to balance the drawers (ARGH!) and how to sign customers up for instrument rentals. In short, Cathy rocks.

Dan and i often get comments like, "Do they only hire redheads around here?" and "What is this? A redhead convention?!" and "How's business?", but i suspect that the last one is just 'cause we work there. As you've likely surmised, Dan is, in fact, a ginger. Just like me. He drives a cougar and knows how to take/make a snide remark. He's the guy that almost always gets my stupid jokes. He makes fun of me for waving, and often will alert me when my mannerisms have become so latently homosexual that they "scare away the nuns". Literally. I haven't seen them since.
He's basically 'the man' as far as sales are concerned, and today he bought me a Starbucks drink! (that i paid him back for) Still, though, it counts. He and i will forever butt heads over our views on Yamaha guitars, but the comaraderie is inexplicably fun.

Josh. (also in the pic up there) Josh is one of those people that you know you'll instantly like. He's the renaissance man of the store- that is, he loves jazz and can jive with the best on the piano. He's recently picked up the guitar and finally purchased one of his own. (see the matching goodness between his Telecaster and my bass) He has an appreciation for all things of yesteryear, and it comes through in his demeanor and the way he treats others. I'm going to be backing him up next week at his church as he leads worship for his tuesday night service. I really enjoy joking around with him, too- his wit is undeniable.

***
Time for a quick story. A woman named Joyce came in on Monday with a very dirty, very old no-name guitar. Since i'm basically the in-house repair man, the guitar was called to my attention, and she expressed that the guitar was of great importance to her. As best i can recall, the guitar was owned by her father, with her mother also owning one of similar brand. He played it for her when she was just a child, but since his passing it's been kept in the attic, collecting dust until now. She needed it cleaned, re-strung, and assessed for worth/damage.

When it comes to guitars, i love a good mystery. She was nice enough that i was compelled to research this instrument's origins on the interwebs. After a deep clean, a polishing, a bit of lemon oil and a string change, I poured over site after site of vintage instruments. Because it was her father's guitar, i figured it had to be older than 50's- especially because the neck has no truss rod. (essentially, an adjustable steel rod that runs the length of the neck to reinforce as well as counter any bow in the neck)

When she came to pick it up today, I was all too excited to give her a bit of history with her newly cleaned and warm-sounding guitar. 1940 Harmony H1001. One of the first models Harmony produced- and it's numbered 124. Pretty nice. It's not worth a great deal, but I think its intrinsic sentimental value is much more valuable to her. So, we took some photos, had some laughs, and I played a last chord or two on a guitar that's more than 40 years my senior. And for the record, it sounded surprisingly good. Woody and that perfect combination of boxy and springy.

The most awkward story in the history of history

2008-07-03T03:44:00.005+02:00

Ok... here goes.

I work at Menchey Music here in York, PA. It's a great job; I spend my days cracking wise and talking guitars, basses, the odd trumpet and repairing our customers' beloved instruments. It's a dream job, helping people find a pedal they like, advising them on the fine art of the string change, and straightening guitar necks. Add to that the warm-natured folks i work with (all of whom have wonderful senses of humor) and i think i've found my dream job. Other than missions in Prague.

As the days pass, i see a lot of people for a lot of different reasons. As i mentioned before, i handle a lot of guitar and bass maintenance. I also make recommendations on tone, cables, strings and all of that rubbish. It's great. We also have part of the store dedicated to lessons, so there's a whole other waiting room and individual rooms for the teachers.

On this particular Monday past, a kid came in for lessons, but had a few questions first about Dunlop Straplocks®. (which i highly recommend and by whom i am not being paid to write this) For the uninitiated, they're a device that secures the guitar to your strap so you can avoid any surprise guitar liberations. They're wonderful.

Now, this kid had an '06 Gibson SG Standard, which is one of my favourite guitars, ever. In Black, it looked equal parts devious and angelic, and was also the very same model i used during a stint in a band called Lossforwords. Long time ago.

Aaaaanyway, the kid wanted to buy them, and needed to know how to put them on. I explained the process to him, which requires screwing in the new strap buttons and then mounting the hardware to the strap of his choice. He seemed a bit overwhelmed by all of the info i'd given him, (he's twelve and i'm a lunatic) so i offered to mount the buttons for him while he was in lessons. He agreed with some measure of excitement and hurried to the wall to pick a guitar for lesson time, leaving me with his prized guitar.

The un-screwing and screwing was no task at all, and while i worked on the instrument, his mother commented that something was off about the neck. When they bought it, the guys at Guitar Center told her that the fretboard was mis-planed. I checked it, played it for 20 minutes- great guitar by the way- and wandered into the waiting room to tell mother that the guitar was fine "I PROMISE!" and offered to buy the instrument if she didn't believe me. She did. Which is good, 'cause the cut on my side says i ain't got $1500.

She took my word for it. After informing her that the guitar was ready, she followed me into the store area to collect it. Keep in mind- her son is still in lessons at this point. I had the guitar just sitting on top of one of the glass cases filled with pedals and other knick-knacs, with the guitar case on an adjacent, identical glass case filled with more pedals and the like. I told her i'd put the plastic bubble the straplocks came in just inside this little flap that all Gibson cases have. As i opened the black Gibson case the mother said, and blithely i might add, "I wonder if he's got any drugs in here."

"HA!", I guffawed.

"I'm not kidding." Straight-faced, and determined, she reached into the compartment which was full of polish clothes and picks. But there was more.

She pulls her hand out of the case, but didn't find any drugs. She did, however, come out with a HANDFUL OF TROJAN CONDOMS. A friggin' handful. Like, 9. Then she pulls out a wrapper. An open one. I stand there, all innocence and myopia¹ , and question aloud, "M'am, i don't understand how these two things intersect..." I mean, come on! Condoms in the guitar case? Maybe not the most sensitive question to ask, but i was in shock.

"I'm going to have a talk with my son tonight." I look at her, she looks at me. I look around the room, i look back, she's still staring at me. A literal, but still strenuously long minute passes by, and the tension just bottles up inside me. I think to myself, 'i have to run away, now.' In a voice i can only describe as adolescent, i sheepishly bid my farewell. But what i actually said was this:

"Ummmmmmmmmmmmyeah. This is actually really, really awkward for me, so i'm going to shut the case and tell you to have a nice day." *Shuts case* "Have... a nice... day...." I hurried off, trying hard to contain myself.

These things, they only happen to me...

¹I did not turn this phrase, but felt it perfectly described myself at the time all of this happened. I read it in "The Many Lives of Tom Waits", by Patrick Humphries. The quote comes from a reference to Randy Newman in "To The Limit" by Marc Elliot.

On the couch, on the table, on the bar, on the floooooooooo'

2008-06-24T19:20:00.004+02:00

I'm healing nicely, and i can't tell you how happy i am to have these infuriating staples removed from my integument tomorrow morning. It's been difficult to keep my sanity, so here's something that's recently come to my attention that's made all the difference. Given my past, this is the perfect salve for my surgical woes.

Click that title, or here for the pure awesome that this video is. Showbiz pizza has never been so cool. And you have to promise you'll stick around until at least 2:30- that's when you get full-on, paraparetic puppet goodness. Still wondering what the blank i'm talking about? Asking yourself, "Should i click the link?"

Now you have to...

Tickled Pinky

2008-06-19T02:08:00.006+02:00

"You don't know what you've got 'till it's gone..."
R.I.P: Pinky (1982-2008)

There comes a time in a man's life when he knows he's got to let go. A time in which the only option is to cut and run, open up to the pain, let it all hang out... that day was Monday.

I'll start at the beginning: Sometime last Wednesday, I knew something was wrong, but i couldn't say it was you- it just couldn't have been you. I've had pain and troubles the likes of which most men ain't been through. But i go through 'em, just the same, with you right by my side. Thick n' thin, you and me kept on walkin'. Thought mebbe i just et sumthin' mighty ripe, maybe slept the wrong way. Pain wasn't bad so I's supposin' I just go an' work like i always do. 'Work through the tears, son', pappy used to say.

Rest of Wednesday, on in through Thursday night t'weren't no trouble a'tall. Found i couldn't sleep much, though. But by Friday morning, we were in rough shape, boy! Called off work ( i had to be up before the sun ) and just slept on through the morning as best i could. Now, i had t'work Saturday- work at the music store these days- and I was gonna make it in if it killed me. But it didn't. 'stead i just grit my teeth and strung up them gee-tars like any other'n. But that night... suffered somethin' fierce. Then it hit me: Might be the last adventure for you 'n' me. I's sad. Real sad.

***

Most folks would have taken care of the pain from the onset, but at first it felt just like food poisoning. I know, because the last time my gut felt like that, it was because of some bad Chinese from the Mall in Anděl during my last trip back to Prague. This time, there was no vomiting. No diarrhea. Just some mild discomfort.
It wasn't until Saturday night that things took a turn for the worst- towards incomparable, inescapable pain. That was when "Appendicitis" ruled my thoughts and fears, and there was so much apprehension already built up towards the Hospital that it took Corrie and Josh picking me up and taking me to the ER for me to acknowledge the severity of my circumstances. To my dismay, it would take another 2 days for anything to be done about my condition.

Aetna insurance screwed me. While i was away in Prague, they were still charging me for insurance i thought wouldn't still be in affect. I don't get a paycheck, so how can they charge me? They did, and i returned to the States owing some back pay. I tried to get my case heard, but no luck, and there was nothing they could do but to keep my insurance going and charge me double each check to recoup their losses. Fine.

Then i get to the ER this weekend and find that not only are they still charging me (as stated by my last pay stub) but they've also canceled my insurance coverage. I checked myself out of the ER as soon as i found out, thinking that I might be able to do something about it. I didn't quite get the chance, though. I was in intense pain all day Sunday, and made an appointment with a Wellspan doctor who didn't know what was wrong with me. I trust my own family doc more, so i decided to make an appointment with him the next day. I went home, and the pain became more intense. I prayed, fervently, "Lord, i ask for complete healing... but if it's not in your Will, then please at least curb the pain. I don't believe i can take much more..."

Around 9 PM, the pain vanished. Completely. I was jovial, making off-colour jokes in no time, which made my friend Corrie feel at home, i'm sure. Upon later inspection by my family doc, Ed Rogers MD, it appears that my body 'walled-off' the swelling member, stopping the pain. Answer to prayer? Definitely. He suggested i get some tests done, and i was all too happy to oblige. I arrived at the Hospital aroung 3:30, had some blood kidnapped and started drinking lemonade flavoured contrast. And to be honest, it really did taste like lemonade. Much more quenching that those sidewalk chalk milkshakes they used to give you.

I had a CT scan taken of my abdomen, was told to sit in a chair for a while while my results were interpreted. I sat there for only a moment before the doctor came rushing out, declaring, "Yep. You've got appendicitis. Come on; You're going into the OR any time now."

I chatted with some of the surgical team, who noted that i was 'tough' for having gone through this almost a week, and joked around about books, music, and read through a huge chunk of 'The Many Lives of Tom Waits', by Patrick Humphries. Love it.

As i was strapped onto the bed for surgery, i was told that i was being positioned 'crucifixion-style', and the last thing i remember telling the Anesthesiologist was, "Come on! You're killing me!" At least my wit was intact. I fell under some strange spell, and awoke next to what i can only assume was a cute nurse with blonde hair. I fear i will never know for sure, but i do know that i came to with a fierce craving for Lucky Charms, remarking that i wanted to try that new marshmallow shape, the hour glass. The vision of a nurse beside me yelled, "Oh my god! I just had Lucky Charms!" I think we got close there. Then i started talking about lord-knows-what, finishing my discourse on a particular episode of Rocko's Modern Life, a show i greatly miss. That episode dealt with Rocko loosing his appendix, Pinky, but before the operation Pinky confides to Rocko that there are some things he's always wanted to do. Rollercoasters, Marriage, driving a bus through a wall of flaming T.V.'s with stick of dynamite attached to his head... A remarkable journey for them both. I told that nurse in the most sullen tones i could muster, "i must see that episode!" [click here or on the title of this post for a link to the RML episode, "Tickled Pinky" from the show's second season. It's a 50/50 episode, so T.P. is really the second part of the show.]

Gram, Nan, and Corrie Jacoby were waiting for me when i finally got back to my recovery room, and they were the best faces i could have seen. Tuesday came along and i was told i was making great progress, healing quickly and moving about. I've never had so many people ask me if i've peed before, but i can't tell you how happy i was when i finally did. I told my roomie, "Dude! Success!", shaking the bottle for good measure. I was released sometime around 3:30 PM yesterday, and as my second day of recovery comes to a close, i'm feeling well. Corrie's been my personal nurse throughout this entire ordeal, and i owe her for her steadfast friendship and helping me get around and such. She's been invaluable. Gram and Nan are watching me as well, and though i'm sore, i'm well.

And i've got some kickin' staples holding my side together!!!

***

Yep. I'll miss ye, old buddy. Some great times we had, some not so great. But you was always there, being a safe haven for good bacteria or bein' the body's fusebox, or whatever 'n the hell you's did down there. But you did it. I'll give you that. You was a good appendix.

The name's James Wynwood, and don't you forget it.

2008-05-05T21:08:00.007+02:00

When Andrea Jones (wife of the talented and immensely good-looking Mark Jones) brought me the lines for my segment, i froze, realizing that i hadn't really prepared at all. I was supposed to be the host of our version of 'The Price Is Right', but hadn't yet decided on a persona to adopt. I'd gotten the clothes, but besides joking around and channeling the voice and mannerisms of Ron Burgundy, i hadn't made much real progress. Plus, there were prizes to remember.

***
Right after work, i met Corrie at Salvation Army. I'd been thinking all day long about this trip, expecting to get there and find the perfect ensemble. More than expecting. I demanded. It was 4:00, and i needed to get to church by 5:30. "I don't have time for alterations", i pleaded. "Just please, please let there be a suit that fits!" I'm not usually the kind of person to ask God for things like that. I mean, i think we all go to the video store wanting to rent a hot title thinking, "please just let Soul Plane be there!" But in this moment i was praying, hard.

See, I'd agreed to do this a week or so before, and things just didn't work out for me to take care of the little details. I walked in the store and it struck me that they'd changed some things around since the last time i'd been there. No matter, because in my spirit, i knew the suit section was still there. I followed the tug on my heart. I felt the aura of it's presence. Lo and behold, the suit section strayed into my field of vision and the relief that followed was inexplicable. But it just kept getting better from there.

I was worried about finding a suit that fit. Really worried. For the longest time, it seemed that the only people donating to Sal-Val were morbidly obese zoot-suiters. But I needed something trim, something more (or less) up-to-date. And that date was the 70's.

I walked through the racks of blazers and huge, striped pants. My hopes were fading. I hit a space in the rack with nothing hanging there, but wait! What's that?! In a rose-tinted haze, there it was: The Perfect Suit. How serendipitous!

I rushed to the changing rooms with a glimmer of anticipation forming in the corner of my eye. The jacket was just the right size: close to the body but enough give in the shoulders to accomodate my wide frame. But would the slacks work out as well? Yes. The exact correct length, size, all of it wonderfully suited for me. Coupling it with the shirt and shoes i bought earlier that week at Arundel Mills, i had killer digs. Oh, and the tie... Oh, the tie.

Admittedly, what i came up with was much less 70's game show host and more like the Beastie Boys in the 'Sabotage' video. I mean, just... wow. The game shows went off smashingly, hooks and all, but my favourite part was being joined by Mark in a kind of good-cop, bad-cop way. There's no other way to describe it: We looked bad-ass. I wanted to take down perps straight away, but there were prizes to be won.

Mark hosted a Family-Feud ripoff, and i had two segments of Price Is Right. Brandon (the other host) had a bald cap on for his version of Deal or No Deal and donned some horn-rims for Whose Line Is It Anyway? The night was a great success, with people winning home versions of popular TV game shows, free smoothies and uproarious laughter.

My shining moment of comedy: We had one of those long-necked microphones just like Bob Barker used to use. To our chagrin, the connection wasn't the best, and the mic kept making alarmingly loud pops, causing me to duck. I played it off, acting cool and in control, asking, "Where are we? L.A.?!" I was given a wireless microphone to use, and being that i was going for a 1970's persona, i pretended to never have seen one before. "Whoa. That is nuts. Where's the wire? Wow." As i was handed the mic, i asked aloud, "Hey, man. Just checking: Is this gonna give me cancer? I don't trust this newfangled radioactive stuff."

Really, really good night. Lots of fun. Dig on pics. To quote my closing speech: "Help control the pet population. Have your pets spayed or neutered." Goodnight.

It's like the pictures tell a story!

And this is what occurred.

2008-04-27T11:15:00.006+02:00

I've been in some kind of cleaning funk lately, i can tell you. With George Clinton and P-Funk proud on the stereo, and a little Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and Low for good measure, i tore apart my room in the basement in hopes that in some holy number of hours, i'd have a livable, presentable space to entertain... the ladies. (?) And others, too. I'm no playa. More a hustla', myself.

So i'm cleaning, or more appropriately, ridding. I'm doing away with all things of questionable value, which is also a close approximation to the work being done in my interior life. When i
come across a note or two passed to me while in college, i read it and weigh the importance of keeping it around. In much the same way, i've been examining motives and words, holding them up to the light to see what impurities shine through. I've been doing this, hoping for purity and some renaissance. I welcome the change, the new space, and feeling kept.

In my cleaning of the physical, some jewels have stood out to me: there's a letter i got from Sunny right after i decided to stay in Prague for the summer of '06, encouraging me to stay the course and know that God would provide; old sheets of guitar lessons from when i thought i knew everything and didn't need to practice; my little league baseball card- complete with signature on the back.

But the real find of the day: The Benny Hinn finger puppet i made back in college!!! I really can't explain how happy it made me to find ol' Benny waiting for me in that mysterious box underneath all of my old textbooks. Go-lly! But did he fit anymore? I slipped my finger through the hold i'd made on the back, and... perfect! I felt like i could do laps around the room! So a warning to those of you who are close: Look out, or you might get hit on the forehead.

***

Before the cleaning, there was inspiration. Debbie is a friend that i put in a place of honor. I've known her since circa 1997, seeing her at shows and diners. After my high school, we simply lost touch. She moved on to pursue theology in Nashville, and i chased after the musical dreams that remained fixed in my mind. Some time after i'd come home from Prague, i re-connected with Debbie through a friend. I think said friend had designs on D and I hitting it off; we instead remained steadfast friends from that point on. Not sayin' she's not cute and all. Just saying we aren't there. Debbie is one woman i truly respect and admire, and also a person that challenges me. We hang out as often as we can and when we do there's a sense of the trivial and trite things in life melting away, and all that remains is the warm bond of a close friend. She's amazing. She is well-suited for the path she's taking. She makes York seem a little more like Nashville. When i think of Debbie, i think of a good whiskey. Like an Emmylou Harris that doesn't sing. I love Debbie.

She came over on Friday with the notion that we needed to take pictures. It's good she said so, because while i've been trying to write up my bio for the World Harvest website, i'd been held up on the photographic end of things. I have no pictures of myself that i like. So we high-tailed it to the park down the road, and the cemetery across the street, for a photo-op extravaganza. The spoils were few, but priceless. Dig on what may be my favourite picture of me, ever. And Debbie above. Dig, i say!

In other news: A few weeks ago, a goose took up residence in one of the medians at work. Right in front of our main doors sat a quiet mother tending to her eggs. We did our best to set up signs and traffic cones, even going so far as to attract media attention so that a) no one got hurt by the male and b) that someone out there could do something to help us care for them. Even the animal protection services around here weren't so helpful. We did what we could, and things were going well until this week.

I came to work to find no mother goose and no goslings. No eggs even. I didn't give it much thought at first, until some of my co-workers brought up the subject. Evidently, the mother left to get some food and flew into a power line. She was electrocuted, and as she fell, she injured her back. She was taken to a local bird shelter and i hear she's doing fine. But the saddest part: The male has been wandering around the parking lot looking for her. Even worse: the eggs were never even fertilized to begin with.

We be missin' you, hot mama [goose]. Come home safe, baby.

Call me Debbie Downer.

I'm going to bed! More to come!

Open.

2008-04-10T03:47:00.006+02:00

"Faith can move mountains, of that I am sure" - Alison Krauss

I saw you tonite at Panera Bread. In that moment as you passed, only one out of many, the sum of our time together cycled in and out of my mind's eye. I wondered how you've been and if my presence in your life has left any lasting scars. You seemed upset; although you might have had a stuffy nose.

Either way, your not-smile, your gait, your eyes diverted, they all said, "I saw you, and i didn't want to." As you faded, it seemed as though the air around us became a miasma of tension and sulfur. I could no longer feel at ease knowing that you were still a functional part of my world.

To my detriment, i hadn't heard from or pursued contact with you in months. But it's not for lack of want, i can assure you. I've often thought of you and your family. You kind-hearted mother, your brothers in tow. Seeing you at Sunday service, saying hello. And then i remember why we had to call it off. We were far too enmeshed, spending most of our free time hanging out, your place or mine, movies, pizza, T.V. and wine. We made choices, mostly good and some bad. And then that whole thing happened with the restaurant and back-stabbing man.

The flood of memories- i'll be honest; there are some that i regret- compelled me to call you after i'd left. I started my car, prayed for grace and hit 'dial'. I'm half glad i got your voice mail, especially because i hadn't a clue what i would have said if you picked up. I fumbled word over word, and when i was done i knew what i'd left there was absurd.

And so, i waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And finally, you SMS'd me. Should i press 'read' or 'exit'... such decisions should be reserved for councils and statesmen. I couldn't resist, and whether it be for connection or for closure i chose to open the message. Imagine my glee when i found you were glad to hear from me, that you're still dating that guy and your life is turning out just as you'd hoped...

...Imagine my surprise when you told me you hadn't been to Panera in months.

"Love" ≠ Love

2008-03-19T07:00:00.004+01:00

Seriously, you guys. You guys, seriously.

Okay. So i'm a storyteller, i'll admit that. I tell lots of stories and i understand if they seem made up, far-fetched, or just plain made up. But they aren't.

Especially in this case.

When i tell stories about my family, and i know some of them seem contrived, i really am talking about actual events, quirks, and things they've said. Sometimes i think no one believes me. But this time i have proof. Behold!

Look at this! It's a birthday card for Nan, my great grandmother. She's 96 this week, and she's really the greatest woman alive. It's a prime example of the 'curse of the double-underlined everything'! What's the point of underlining? To emphasize. But what good is it if every word is underlined?! And we're not just talkin' single here...

Here's a transcript. The bold words are underlined on the card.

"Nana,
Sending warmest greetings and an extra-special wish
Because you're a grandma who deserves a lovely day like this
You always make life brighter with the thoughtfulness you show
and you're someone who's appreciated much more than you'll ever know.

Wishing you happiness always
Love Jim and Connie and Michael

You'll notice that i double-underlined my own name. It's kind of my tacit statement of disapproval of so many underlines. Let's see if they notice.

While this is really a great display of my family's underlining prowess, it doesn't showcase the show-stopper of greeting card homicide: My parents end cards with "Love" instead of simply, love. Everytime i get a birthday card, i'm all, "What do you mean by, "Love"?" Do they mean it sarcastically? Maybe they think it's love but aren't sure?

Ugh.

World Harvest A&O Week

2008-03-15T07:19:00.009+01:00

For those of you not in-the-know, I've been down in Philadelphia (over, to the right...) at World Harvest's HQ, While i'm not going to attempt to condense one whole week of awesome into a short blog entry, i am going to debrief myself. That shouldn't sound as bad as it looks, but i'm fresh off the road and lookin' to sleep anytime soon.

This week was intense, and not in a way unlike the process of putting a curve in a perfectly straight piece of wood. Each of the seven of us (Christine, Constance, Lauren & Matt, Rachel, Taylor, and i) had hopes and fears, as well as vision and callings, and i think those deep things which lay in our hearts were confirmed this week.

***
It's not that i was scared of the whole process, but as my father pointed out yesterday at Sunday lunch, "It seems like with the [other organizations], nothing's gone your way. But since you've connected with World Harvest, things are just lining up for you." I have to say i agree. I've been at this process for over a year now. The first time didn't go so well. Yes, we may have been strange bedfellows, but familiarity was the reason it was my first choice. I invested myself fully in the application process, but never heard back. The only answer i ever received, not even through a primary source, was simply, "No."

So you can imagine my state of mind when i finally applied to World Harvest. I know the team in Prague and what kind of stellar people they are, but i still had this fear of meeting a bunch of working stiffs, none too concerned with the world they were affecting and hearts that needed Jesus. I believed i'd have to impress a bunch of people that wouldn't really understand or appreciate where i was coming from.

I couldn't have been more wrong. The folks at World Harvest, as i think i've mentioned before, are as down-to-earth as one could imagine. They're stand-up kind of people, committed to their work and with passion uncharacteristic of organizations four times their size. I love these people.

Sunday night of that week marked the start of A&O (Assessment and Orientation) Week with an informal and delicious dinner at the home of Paul and Lynn Leary. We met with them, as well as Dan Macha, Monica and Beth over beautifully prepared curry chicken (it was delicious, Lynn!). After discussing politics and self-sustaining coffee shops, we moved to a cozier spot in the house and shared introductions and testimonies. And i had to go first. Phooey. *sticks tongue out. The laptop takes it personally, freezes*

The rest of that week seems to be a blur. So many meetings. But so much to learn. What a team! Some might say i was introduced to my new colleagues; i feel as though i've met lifelong friends. And really, isn't that what you want in a sending organization?!

On Wednesday, we took a trip into Philly while the group discussed our fates. Liberty bell, woo-hoo, right? It's just that i've seen it so many times. And talk about laziness- there's still a crack in it. WHY DOESN'T ANYONE GET AROUND TO FIXING IT????

I kid. I joke.

But really, the allure of going to Philadelphia had nothing to do with location and everything to do with my friends. It was just a week for us (except Taylor; he had to leave Thursday morning) but the bonds were already formed. Since i've come home, i've been keeping them close through Facebook. It's cool how we're all going through the same thing at the same time. Raising support, freaking out about the amount, feeling empowered/exhausted, you know.

As i've told a friend recently, i feel like i've finally got goals. Something to work for. And it excites and motivates me more than i've ever been. I pray this continues. There's nothing like being the real thing.

So, in short, I'm a missionary- a real one- through World Harvest. They've appointed me for a two year term in Prague, Czech Republic, and in the words of my friend Constance: "I've got a crapload of money to raise."

Ah, the feeling of forward motion...

More to come.

(PS- the old woman playing piano in one of Philadelphia's Markets? Her name is Sophia, and for about 15 minutes, she made me feel better than i have in years. In her small corner of the dining area, she filled my heart with song and joy and made me forget all of my small, self-centered problems and reminded me that there is still beauty in this marble world.)

Josh

2008-03-04T07:09:00.003+01:00

He's pretty much the man. He's someone i admire in that he's content as he is, and faith for him isn't a question- it's a lifestyle. He's rugged and down to earth, and the kind of person that surprises you with how at ease you'll feel when you first speak. Really, a stand-up kind of guy. I'm proud to have him.

What started out as our quest to take some pictures quickly became catching up and strolling through Rocky Ridge. I'm super tired, so telling you what happened might fail. But i can show you:

It's good to be home. I love this man.

You're singing lead soprano in a junkman's choir

2008-03-03T06:49:00.009+01:00

Well, i'm back, and it's been great. So much has happened. My trip home was easy, and i watched Terminator 2 on the plane, so hey. Doesn't get any better. I've been writing music productively and trying to convince Valerie that Tom Waits is indeed the man. (I loves me some Tom Waits) It's going well. I'm in love with my Sunday night fellowship and i'm stoked for next week at World Harvest. Really. The time in Prague helped me remember my passions, (community, relationship, Prague itself and music) and i'm so lucky that they all intersect there. Gosh, i've got goals- tangible, real goals for the first time in my life- and i'm excited to work towards them. I'm praying, hoping, and feeling encouraged.

Thanks to the folks in Prague: You've helped me remember who i am in the Lord, and what it is that i truly love. You've helped me see things in myself that i haven't in such along time. You've got me all riled up for this season in my life, and i love and miss you all. I'm blessed to have friends like all of you. I WILL see you soon.

***
Today, though, it struck me that i really was back in York. Why? Here's why:

Look at that beauty! Where else can you find a truck with CAMOUFLAGE PAINT?! Now, i used to think this was stupid and pointless. I thought, "Why the H would you need this? It's not like it's blending in", but look below! It really works! I'm convinced!

Seriously. You can't even tell there's a truck behind that bush. If i hadn't told you, you'd be none the wiser.

Also, there were good times to be had while Babysitting Maarten. He's the man. And kicked my butt at Memory. Yeesh!

Church tonite was amazing. Why? I crowd surfed. It's a home church, and at some point during a time of encouraging each other, one woman started dancing, and i made dance music with my voice, and before you know it, Bruce shouted, "Lift him up!" and i was crowd surfing.

I love those people.

As i mentioned, i've been working on music like crazy. I've got only a few lines here or there, but one song, 'Stay Low' is fully recorded and sounding really good. Powerful and hopeful. I love it. It's different than most things i write- louder and more aggressive. But i love it.

Off to bed. Be safe!
Thanks again, all. More to come! Like, now.

Glen and Markéta's Oscar moment.

2008-02-26T02:12:00.005+01:00

Here's the link to Glen and Marketa's acceptance speeches, complete with Jon Stewart's anecdotal goodness. Seriously, best moment of the night. Morning.

Congratulations

2008-02-25T06:21:00.004+01:00

Congrats goes out to my two favourite singer-songwriters for winning the Oscar- what a triumph for struggling musicians who are struggling to make true Art! I had no idea when i saw them in '06 that i'd be back in Prague to watch them on one of the largest exports from American Television. After Glen made this impassioned yet humble speech, fighting back tears as he spoke: "We made this film two years ago, we shot it on two handy-cams, it took us three weeks to make, we made it for 100 grand and we never thought we'd come into a room like this and be in front of you people... This is amazing. Make art. Make art. Make art." Jon Stewart quipped, "That guy is soooooo arrogant!", which was the funniest joke of the night.

Even better: Marketa wasn't able to get a word out before the orchestra played her off, so Jon Stewart brought her back out after the break. She was brief: "The fact that we're standing here tonight, the fact that we're able to hold this, it's just proof that no matter how far out your dreams are, it's possible, and, you know, fair play to those who dare to dream, and don't give up. This song was written from the perspective of hope, and hope, at the end of the day, connects us all, no matter how different we are." Really a beautiful moment.

Jon told a story from back stage: "These two are going crazy back there. Glen had their Oscars and said, 'Let's make them kiss!' Marketa said, 'But they're both guys'.

Glen: 'Well, it's Hollywood...'"

Some shots of them from Divadlo Archa in '06.

Seriously, congrats. There's never been a winner more deserving than these two.

(Nice Dream)

2008-02-22T13:09:00.007+01:00

Well, she's gone. Sprouted wings morning last and made it back to Beijing Sometime around 2:30 am, her time. It was a great week with her, joking and laughing and napping and eating. I think what i enjoyed most about our time together was actually seeing her in person, getting to experience her instead of just reading her in emails. Actually hearing and feeling the sarcasm ooze from her presence... priceless. She was great, seriously. It would be foolish of me to not recognize the obvious personality conflicts that we experience: she's very independent and admittedly hates affirmation, while i'm a guy that loves tagging along, holding hands and romance, and has a need for affirmation. Just like any relationship, there are places where we don't quite match up.

On our last night together, Valerie hadn't been feeling her best, so i read while she napped, and i joined her later on. We got out of the Hostel late that night to take some photos of the city- because, really, Prague may be at its best at early morning or late at night. I helped her discover the joys of owning a tripod, and we definitely had a blast trying to one-up each other.

Last night was my last at the IHOPP (International House of Prayer Prague), and i'm going to miss those hours of prayer and worship. Afterwards, i gave David and Sarah a hand with their IKEA furniture, which is always rewarding for me. It's like LEGOs for big people. Hopefully they've messaged me while i was writing, and i'll get to go over and help with the dresser! Yay!

Well. I leave Prague next week, and i'm a little bummed, but excited. Excited that i get to start the process of becoming (hopefully) a missionary. March 9 starts the process at World Harvest, so remember to pray for me in that.

MORE TO COME.

Then and Now.

2008-02-19T23:46:00.005+01:00

We've had a blast the past few days, and we've squeezed every last drop of life out of them, so even though i'm tired, i 'll catch you up.

Valerie and i spent most of Monday exploring, and when we realized that we hadn't yet made our way to the "Lennon Wall" we took full advantage of all the free time we had. The Lennon Wall of Prague is simply a wall, covered in graffiti and expressions of love of both John Lennon and Prague. It's a beautiful wall, not because of what's on it, but because of the art but because it's a community sounding board of sorts. I will say that the wall used to be a lot prettier, but still, the principle remains. I love not knowing what i'll find every time i show up. Valerie got the point, and decided to join in. Someone had painted a tan and green globe, and did a pretty decent job of hitting all of the continents, so she left her mark- her Chinese name- on the country she loves.

We spent the rest of our day with Sunny, whom i haven't seen since i left Prague in 2006. I missed her so much! Lucky for Valerie, Sunny's as obsessed with 'Friends' as she is. So, we made fajitas and brownies and after some good conversation we powered through 8 episodes.

Today was also good. Val and i met Phil Davis for breakfast this morning which, if you've ever stayed at Czech Inn, you know is good. Sadly, it was not all quaint updates and jokes. World Harvest had Fed-Ex'd over some tests for me to fill out. Personality tests. Usually i don't mind, and hey, they're for a great reason. But man! I've only got two days left with Val! I don't think she minded, though, because she got to have some alone time with Praha.

I finished the tests in 2 1/2 hours, which i was honestly pretty impressed with. I had expected them to take most of the afternoon, but i followed a friend's advice to just go with my first impulse. Though i did deliberate on my answers here and there, even the 567 question exam seemed to fly by. That might have had something to do with Sigur Rós as well, but i digress. I actually enjoyed these three tests. Way fun. And some questions were just priceless.
True or False: "I enjoy seeing animals suffer"
"I would like to be a race car driver."
"I would like the work of a park ranger."

I've never been so entertained by something that's sort of deciding my future!

Valerie and i took a long, arduous stroll up Petřin Hill, our end destination being Prague's Eiffel-esque tower which overlooks the whole city. It's beautiful up there, but come on! So many steps!!!

It's okay, though, because by the end of our trip, our calves were bulging and probably people were staring. Not because we were freaks, but because we're pumped. Like i am right now just thinking about it.

Some pics of the walk up and the view follow, as well as the crazy beautiful moon tonite.

Valerie leaves Prague on Thursday noon, so please pray for a safe trip and such things. I'll miss her. Already do. G'nite.

Right now, you're sleepin.

2008-02-15T23:58:00.005+01:00

We didn't have any plans today, save for our reservations at Ambiente's Brazilian Barbecue. We're still full, thanks for asking. We did, however, need to make room for walk off all of that food, so we spent most of our free time taking photos and accidentally experiencing history without paying for it. Sorry! The concept wasn't clear to us!

I have a fascination with birds- something about the ability to take flight whenever one desires captures my heart. I wish for that kind of freedom in my life, which is why i admire them so. Also, i like doors. And i caught Valerie in one of those 'what the @$&@#? are you doing' moments that seem so abundant at present. Enjoy.

Something i've really enjoyed: getting to know her. Valerie, i'd say, is much different from most girls i've been attracted to. There's a matter-of-fact way about the way she lives life, and although she really is a warm person, she's apt to tell you why she thinks any matter of course is the dumbest thing she's ever heard. She's eager for an argument- and not in the sort of combative way that can be the norm. I love hearing her thoughts and opinions, though, and she challenges me like no one i know has. When we're alone, it feels natural, and she really is becoming safe for me. I don't know how we're going to make it over such great distance, but more and more i'm becoming certain that yes, i want to try. She's a great friend and more. I adore her.

Pool.

2008-02-14T16:06:00.002+01:00

We played it.

She won.

Here.

2008-02-13T00:50:00.008+01:00

Valerie arrived last night (Monday) at just before nine, and after her having been up for 22 hours i believed it a bad idea to take a camera along. I will say that it was joyous and full of conversation, but after we got back to Czech Inn she wasn't feeling very much like staying up and chatting. It was all that i could do just to get a few minutes with her before she kicked me out.

If you're not up-to-date, Valerie is my girlfriend, whom i never see. She teaches English in Beijing, and for the entire duration of our relationship she's been there. It's a huge deal to see her now, and to be honest it was a little strange at first, not knowing what to say or do because here's this person i care about that i have no physical context for. We're working on all of that though.

We slept in and showered and left for fun and adventure at the crack of noon. She'd been hungry for Chinese- even if it's not her elitist version of what Chinese food should be- and then headed straight for the Castle. She kept remarking that she felt so out of place in a city where she blended in perfectly. She was so used to being the one everyone's staring at that walking around a city full of white people made her feel strange. She got over it quickly, though, when she discovered St. Vitus' Cathedral, and the walk down from Prague Castle to Lesser Town, which is where the majority of these photos were taken. (Sorry folks, only my boring photos here. Maybe i can rip a few from Val later on, though.)

Valerie's got a sweet camera, and she stopped frequently to use it. She's actually quite good at the craft of photography, so it was fun watching her gasp in awe of some marvelous structure, then try to capture it. She doesn't get to see buildings this old where she lives, and i think she really enjoys the difference in culture here. I'm glad to be able to show "[my] city to [my] girl", as Sunny so eloquently put it earlier. She likes Prague, and i think Prague likes her back.

Mark and Joanna Stewart were so kind to invite us over for dinner tonite... it was good to get to know them, finally, and to hear their stories. Plus, the meal that was prepared for us was superb, including chocolate pie. Yum. We really like them. i can feel a kinship with them, and they encourage me just with the kind of care and concern they've already put into Prague in the 7 short months they've been here. I appreciate them.

Tomorrow- well, Tomorrow i don't know about. I don't think we've got any concrete plans, but i'm sure i can think of something that makes me look intelligent. So... yeah! All right. See ya later!

The Parade.

2008-02-06T16:49:00.001+01:00

Last night i had some bad Chinese food, so i come to you not of sound mind of body. I've slept most of the day away, and i just ate some bread and it seems to be staying down well enough. Yesterday, though, was a good day.

As most of you already know, yesterday was Mardi Gras, or 'Well-fed Tuesday' as Chris Syvertsen calls it. Why mention this? I'm not in Louisiana. Prague, for some reason or another, celebrates it as well, and just outside the Syvertsen's building (where they've so graciously put me up- thanks guys. So much.) there was a parade. I tagged along with Laura and her son Owen, David and Sarah, and David's friend Justin as they went to check things out. There were Valentine Vendors and stilt-walking men, skeletons and armies and hot apple wine. Owen had a blast running and having alone time.

The Theme Of My Song

2008-02-04T15:15:00.000+01:00

I've spent much time walking the streets of Prague, and i continually feel more and more that this truly is home. I don't mind the language barrier; looking stupid at KFC isn't of much consequence to me. I mean, come on! I'm in KFC!
I love the fact that everything is still so familiar to me, though. I've gotten only slightly lost just once since i've been here. I've visited most of my old haunts, and found some new ones with little problem. The first day i was back, i visited my old neighborhood, had some Crocodille and picked up a metro ticket. Rode the metro all around, no problem.

In the midst of all of the old, there is so much new to be embraced. There's Phil's Church, Faith Community. I was talking with a friend last night, Charissa, and she was saying how genuine everyone there is. She talked about her first experience with Shanna, Phil's wife, and how she didn't just give Charissa a friendly 'hello', but was honest and open about her own life. Charissa mentioned to Shanna that she was an MK (Missionary Kid) and Shanna responded by telling her how aware of the effect that will have on her own kids she is. She asked Charissa about her own life. They shared stories.
That's what i love about that Church, the people in it. When someone there asks how you are, you're compelled to believe they really want to know. And even though there are congregational readings and there's an order to the service, it all comes with purpose, with heart. As a kid, i used to hate listening to the whole church recite something from a piece of paper without fervor or honesty. At Faith, that's not the case. Last night, i was asked to lead a recitation of the Nicene Creed, and instead of dead syllables falling from our mouths, there was a soul and a spirit to it that i rarely have seen. I felt in my heart, "There's a reason we're saying this now. There's a joy in these words. These words are alive..."

And the worship, oh the sound! Playing with Dorothy and Ondra during these last two weeks has been a phenomenal experience. Dorothy has a voice that's reminiscent of Emmylou Harris, and it's also a bit more delicate than that. Ondra is the kind of musician that makes you sick to the stomach. He plays everything with aplomb. And, Ondra's one of the most joyful people i know. Always happy to play, that one. The three of us have been having the time of our lives preparing music for service, favoring hymns over the more contemporary songs. We played a song called, "My Mercy, My God" with fiddle and open-tuned bluegrass guitar, and it was good.

Ondra took me to a Reggae jam the other night, which was fun, and tonite i'm going to a recording studio to hopefully 'spice up' a song for my friend Marketa!

Well. See ya later.

Karelštejn

2008-01-31T10:58:00.000+01:00

On Tuesday, Kristyna invited me to take a trip to Karelštejn Castle with her friends, Lissa and Stephanie, and her sister, Jana. The castle happened to be closed, but that didn't stop us from having a wicked good time.

Jana had, in her bag of tricks, some little penguin statues that sort of became our own personal lawn gnomes. Dig on some pics:

Small rocks. Churches.

2008-01-28T14:38:00.000+01:00

I went to Churches yesterday. Yes, plural. In the morning, there was Antioch, but i got lost on the way and wound up on their doorstep half an hour late. Then i walked in, and i completely distracted Zora, who was leading worship at the time. I really, really missed her, though. I was welcomed as a guest by Zdenek, who is the pastor of this church, and i was surprised he remembered me! We'd only met once, at the very beginning of my first year here, so i guess the man's got an incredible memory. I remembered him, too, so that means i'm the cat's pajamas or something.

The message was especially good for me that morning, challenging me to be more open and bold with my faith. It is good to have heard that, because it has been a while since i've been outspoken. I mean, the way i share my faith is by example and living it out- which i think is beneficial and good. But as with most things, balance is good, and so i'm looking forward to exercising my beliefs this month. There was more about Aaron's staff, which turned to a snake in Exodus. The text says that Pharaoh's sorcerers also could do the same by their black magic, but that Aaron's staff- which turned as an act of God- swallowed up the other snakes. Zdenek, or "Denny" as he was called in the states, urged us not to fear other snakes. Very insightful.

Zdenek talked to me a bit after service, and i had the chance to catch up with Zora, who also heads the IHOP in Prague. (IHOPP= International House Of Prayer, Prague) I'll be hitting that up Thursday, for sure.

After Church #1, i had lunch with Zora and a new friend named Kelley, who was from Seattle and is from an organization that places English teachers with those who want to learn. We had a great meal, talking about Prague, music, and life. And Valerie. Lots of people want to talk about her for some reason, i don't know why. J/K, you guys! J/K.

I met Dorothy and Ondra at Phil Davis' church around 3:30. They had invited me to come participate in worship that evening, and i was more than happy to oblige. With just 2 guitars and 3 voices, i feel like we made a sound that was greater than the sum of it's parts. Dorothy's voice is pure and flows like a river, and Ondra is one of the best musicians i know. On guitar, bass, fiddle, and everything else practically, he is the kind of guy that makes stand in awe of how good He is. Not only gifted musically, Ondra is one of the most encouraging and joyful people i know.

The service was incredible. I didn't have the chance to check out the church before i left, so being my first night there i wasn't sure what to expect. It was so good, though. Worship was beautiful for me, so musical and lively. After that, Phil prayed what could've been a very long prayer, but because he prayed with such passion and fervor, i think we all could've wanted it to be much much longer. That's the tone of the evening, really. Even the call and response readings were beautiful because they weren't just repetitions of someone else's words- We meant them. There was an intensity to a gathering of people who truly love being where they are, with the people they're with. It's truly a small community. The message was brilliant as well, being about Ruth and Boaz and the concept of a kinsman-redeemer. About covering. About not being afraid and the promise that "you will not suffer shame"... I can safely say this day was spoken to me from the Artist. Phil even reminded us of Shawshank Redemption, one of my favourite films. He referenced the point in the film when opera is played over the prison PA system. He used that picture, and Red's thoughts, to give us a reminder of freedom, and how it's for all of us. How He lifts us. Amazing.

When the service ended, everyone stuck around to talk and you got the sense that this community was thriving not of it's own accord, but because they're gathered under something greater than they are. They have purpose and truly believe in what they're doing. It's organic; it is free; it's Church. I heard so much laughter, and so many stopped to tell an unfamiliar irish-looking fellow that he enhanced their worship simply by playing a few chords. I felt welcomed, i felt loved.

After Church, Ondra took me out for some beers and we had a great time laughing, catching up, talking about our girlfriends, music, sharing photos and glowing from the Presence. I missed this guy. Here he is, demonstrating how to use a traditional Czech well pump. That's not hooked up; it's for show. And by the way, if you ever want to drink something that goes down so smooth you'll swear it's almost a milkshake, have a Velvet. Trust me. It's good.

Ah, the city. She romanced me then. She takes me in again.

Enter the Haggis (this post is in no way affiliated with the band of same name)

2008-01-27T01:34:00.001+01:00

I just had the grrrrreatest night evarrr!

Do you know who Robert Burns is? No? Go look that up on Wiki or Google, or just click above, then get back to me.

***

Now that you're back, you'll understand what i'm about to tell you a little better. Phil Davis invited, nay, forcibly coerced me to join he and his wife, as well as Laura Syvertsen and some other amazing new faces to the Robert Burns Annual Supper. And i'm so glad i went...

At this point, you might be asking yourself, "What exactly is the Robert Burns Annual Supper?" That's the wrong question. The correct one being, "What the [insert unintelligible Scottish phrase of curse] is the [add one more here] Robert [and here] Burns Annual [trail off here]?!!"

[Raise glass, take a swig, punch somebody. Dance.]

Honestly, i could never have expected to have the time of my life at a memorial dinner for a long-dead but very famous Scottish poet. Now, it should be noted that Robert Burns was an incredible man, believing that all are on equal footing and as a man of prominence endeavored to treat each man with the same respect. And also, Robert Burns, i'm told, was a romantic. I heard that 36 times throughout the night, followed by a rendition of one of Burns' love poems. This begs the question, "Is it really that romantic if you can't understand a word they're saying?!"

But i digress. Not because i'm not enjoying writing this. but because i'm sitting adjacent to some Scots.

The dinner was more of a black-tie event, but i dressed somewhat less appropriately because i didn't pack my three-piece when i left home. Phil told me i should have expected to be dining lavishly my second night in Prague. What a fool i've been!

Speaking of lavish dining: After some readings of Rabbie Burns' finest poems, which really are quite beautiful, we stood for the "Toast of the Haggis". That's right. Haggis. Two kilted men carried a giant platter with one bloated sheep stomach through the crowd, and we all drank to it's greatness. Well, that's what we all said, at least; i drank because of what i was about to eat. I needed that much!

Honestly, being that it was my first haggis, it was difficult to just live in the moment and remove myself from all i know about haggis. Don't know what haggis really is? It was explained like this last night: "It's all the other parts of the sheep, just inside the stomach and cooked." But it was actually really good. That's even an understatement. I loved it! I look forward to another one at some point in my lifetime! And that Whiskey-Creme sauce... i could drip that over everything. Toast. Ice cream. Cereal.

After the haggis and a brief primer course on the differences between men and women and the follies and foibles of each sex, they served Chocolate Mousse as a precursor to the dance. And the dance was formidable. There's so much spinning and partner-switching... Plus, one learns the dances while dancing, meaning that the band explains what you're supposed to do a second before you're supposed to do it. Luckily, when it came time for me to join in, i had Shanna Davis as my lass. Yes, we messed it up. Again and again. But when we got to the middle, we were having a good time. I changed hands more than a dollar bill, i can tell you that much. And let me take a quick moment to openly praise the band of the evening: Ondra, you guys were the tops. And yes, i insist you bring your fiddle to worship next week! (if you're asking, "Who's Ondra?", look at the guy making the face in the picture up top. Then notice him looking rather normal, fiddling the night away.)

Really, this was one of the great nights of my life. I don't remember having that much fun dancing and mucking about! Forget my inability to understand every 3rd word being said to me. I'd not trade that night for all the nights in the world!

All i've got to say: Haggis and Tatties.

"A man's a man for a' that. For a' that, an a' that."

"That man to man, the world, o'er
Shall brithers be for a' that"

-Robert Burns, my new favourite poet. I don't think i'll enjoy it as much as i did unless i can get a book-on-tape version. It makes more (and less) sense that way.

-Totally walked into my shot. For some reason, i like it.

In Czech Republic, your photographs must be burry and overexposed.

2008-01-26T12:14:00.000+01:00

I started my day today the best way i possibly could: Phil Davis. Let me say this: I love Phil. He's the leader of the team i'm hoping to join. He has such an intense love of Prague and its people, and is easily one of the most approachable people i know. We met for breakfast at Czech Inn, where i'm staying, and caught up while Jason McFarland regaled us with his witticisms. Jason's a friend i met during the end of my first year here, and he's helping out, keeping the hostels running.
After breakfast- and a lot of laughter- i met up with Kristyna and her friends. Sadly, i suck with names so badly that i even asked for their names, got them, and forgot them just as i sat down to write this. I did spend the day with them, and believe me when i say they're cool enough to remember. It was so good to see Kristyna and her friends. We had a blast, and i also really enjoy making fun of K, whom i affectionately call Kraus. (Kristyna Rausová= Kraus for short) I think she hates it. I forgot how much she hits you when you say something she doesn't like. I missed her!
Starting out at Muzeum, we walked all the way through Old Town (Staroměstské Naměstí) and the markets back to Charles Bridge (Karlův Most) and up the hill to Prague Castle (Pražský Hrad). The sky was so blue today, it was unbelievable. As we neared Charles Bridge it was so clear that i couldn't remember a day like it. The bridge was full of buskers and street artists and tourists. We happened upon a guy setting up his crystal glasses and we stuck around long enough to listen to him tune and play something by Bach, i think. It was beautiful and cold, and with all that water on his hands, i can't believe he played as well as he did. It got less interesting when he began telling the tourists what is an appropriate amount of money to give to a street performer.

s When we were at the castle, we got to see the changing of the guards twice. The first time, we noticed that one of the guards couldn't keep a straight face, so we made a note to come back later. During the second, we got him to crack up, which might be bad because don't they get shot oromething if they laugh? I kid. We decided to check out the inside of St. Vitus Cathedral, where we soon discovered that tripods are not widely accepted indoors. Twice i was approached by semi-official looking guards. The first visit was to tell me that my tripod couldn't touch the floor. Fine. I placed it on my shoes. Then i was told that i can't have my tripod legs extended. I pointed out that it was on my shoes (which is funny, because if they were so worried about the floors, they'd not allow rubber soles, which is precisely the material my tripod feet are made of) and he said i couldn't use the tripod. I asked why. He shook his head, and i relented. ugh.
In any case, it didn't dampen the beauty of the stained glass and carved wood. Really a brilliant sight to behold. Apparantly we'd chosen a fee-free day to visit, so we didn't have to pay and even got to see places previously roped off to those who didn't pay extra.

We left the Castle around 3:30 and walked to Hradčanská where i used to catch the metro after meeting up with Sunny. We strolled through familiar streets, explaining to each other the significance of where we were and what breed of dog we like (Kraus' friends love daschunds , which they refer to as 'hot-dogs'. I hate them and think they smell funny) and had a modest but tasty dinner at Boulevard Crocodille. I missed their potato wedges. (patatás) Mmmm. In honor of Jon Stone, i ordered the Americká, which is a meatball sub with barbecue sauce and caramelized onions. That's what he always got! *sniff*

Really, it is quite strange being here with so many others gone. The Stones. Sunny. The Augustines. Countless other friends that are no longer around or simply out of town. Luckily, there are enough of the old contingency to remind me how good it is to be home. I spent evening last with Laura Syvertsen and her son Owen. She had planned a dinner get-together and invited me up to meet some new faces to Prague. Again, names. I suck. I'll write them down next time. Promise. Names i recall: David and Sarah. Mark. Sasha (he's like, 3?) Laura's a great cook, so i can't even begin to explain how good the food was. And the conversation. Laughter. Brilliant. I missed her! And her energetic son! And her husband, who is currently in Ireland for a hostel conference, most likely eating fish and chips while i type. I'll see him soon though.

I came home last night exhausted, and i look forward to feeling the same later on tonite. I'm gonna take a walk around, then head over to T-Mobile to see if i can get my Czech SIM card to work. Or i'll buy a new one. I'll have more photos posted soon on my facebook.com page, and i'll try to have a few pictures strewn about on this blog that i find interesting. More later. Love!

A rant, then an announcement.

2008-01-20T21:52:00.000+01:00

I decided that i like Janis Joplin the other day.

I was sitting in the cold blue ford that belongs to my friend Debbie (see pic) while she was inside the Children's Home of York, where she works. She had to talk to a manager about something, leaving me to freeze with nothing but the soulful cries of a long-gone singer to ease my mind. I've never been a big fan before, but this year i realized that i've opened up quite a bit to styles i never found appealing. It was there in the ash coated interior that Ms. Joplin finally broke through my walled mind and touched something deep inside me. I don't know what song it was, or even what the words were, but i heard something in her that day that i'd never recognized before: passion.

Lately i've been lamenting the days before compression. If you listen to old recordings, the chorus is louder than the verse, and if something's out of tune- oh well. It's already on the tape. No metronomes. No pitch correction. What was committed to tape was exactly what you heard. For example, The Rolling Stones. On their old records, the tempo teetered crazily, speeding up a bit here or slowing down a bit there. If Mick's vocals were a little off, no big deal. It added to the flavor and tone of the song. Makes a man seem a bit more gruff, if he sings a little off key and doesn't give a crap. Point is, it sounded good.

Now you take new music and everything's set to a click track and over produced. Every time i hear Angels and Airwaves at work, i cringe. Not only is the guys voice so overproduced and pitch-corrected that i can hardly believe it's a man, but everything's at full volume all the time. Arctic Monkeys have a similar problem with their last record. It's good; please don't think i'm bashing them, but everything's the same volume. Have we lost the loud/quiet dynamic completely in rock and roll?

I understand when someone needs pitch correction on their vocals; i used some myself on my first EP. Why? Because at that point, i couldn't sing very well. I don't know if it's just that i can't sing or if it was because i was sick while we were recording, but yeah i used some. Especially for those painfully high background vocals.

Then last year i recorded a new song- Perfect Chord. I wrote that one in Prague, and i really like the song. I'm not some genius writer or virtuoso, but this is probably the best work i'd ever done. When it came to be time to lay down vocal tracks, i was nervous. But i did it without pitch correction. There are a few places where i'm a little off, but it liked it fine that way. It was more me than it's ever been. And therein lies the real issue: our 'art' has become relative. So many bands sound the same, look the same, follow the same verse/chorus routine that it's as if you could play two different bands at the same time and it would all fit together like snap-tite model. And i've got this BTTF DeLorean one that i haven't finished yet but i plan on it. Just wait!

The art that matters- that's really important- is that which is bred from a different perspective. Just like a Giant in a room full of average men would stand out, so does the voice of a heartfelt performer singing as she or he feels it.

I ask you: Where are all the Janis Joplins? The Stevie Ray Vaughans? The Nick Drakes? Everything i picked 2 weeks ago as my top albums of the year had something to say for the subject.

I digress. I like Janis Joplin, though. Albert King said of her, "She always had her little glass", which is true. The main reason i like Janis is that she was purely herself. No one was going to tell her how to sing that song. She just did. And it was brilliant then as it is now.

In other news, there are these videos on Youtube that are of your favourite guitar heroes, but overdubbed to be terrible. Just trust me. My favourites:
Santana Shreds
Creed Shreds

So Wednesday i'm boarding a plane for the Czech Republic. And i'm so excited. I can't wait to see everyone. I'll be there for just over a month, so call me. I'm up for anything. I'll be in Prague from Jan. 24th to Feb. 27th. And as an added bonus, Valerie's coming! More later.

The Top Ten... ish.

2007-12-31T21:51:00.001+01:00

2007 was a great year for music. Check it: 2007 saw Hannah Montana ticket prices skyrocket, we begged Amy Winehouse to say "Yes, Yes, Yes" to rehab, and we all remember where we were when we found out Britney Spears was riding the slow pony to the rubber forest. In more thrilling news, Springsteen gave us a new offering from the studio, and in perhaps the most important turn of events, ever, Led Zeppelin got back together for a few epic nights of rock and roll bliss.

Not that i'm saying other years haven't been so good to us; there was 2005, oh and '02 was pretty decent as well. But really, the releases this year brought us almost always blew away whatever we expected. So here it is: My Top Ten List. (with runner-up goodness.)

10. Modest Mouse- We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank
Modest Mouse and Bright eyes were in similar circumstances this time around; the daunting task of following up a highly-lauded previous release. Where Bright Eyes did a good job with Cassadaga, (Equally brilliant but without some of the accessibility that made I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning so good) Modest Mouse delivered. We Were Dead is every bit as catchy and memorable as Good News was, with more of Isaac Brock's tension-laden vocals. Decidedly more difficult to decipher than Good News, it seems as if the spotlight of mainstream success has only given them the resolve to keep doing what they damn well please. The addition of ex-Smiths guitarist Johnny Marr only strengthens the backing to Brock's unique delivery. 'March Into the Sea' kicks off the record with crazed laughter and story telling like only Modest Mouse can. Shins frontman James Mercer guests on 'Florida' and adds some sweetness to 'Missed the Boat'- a personal favourite and the closest we'll come to a 'Float On'- and just try not to clap along to the chanting in 'Parting the Sensory'.

9.
Robert Plant and Alison Krauss- Raising Sand
Like many, i wasn't sure what to expect when i found this CD quietly working its way onto the New Releases Bay at Borders. "Huh?", i thought to myself. "The king of Rock and Roll vocals and the queen of New Grass?" Lucky we got a promo for in-store play, or i might never have known what i was missing.
This record is teeming with beauty. It's as if we're eavesdropping on some intimate courtship ritual- a delicate dance between two lovers who are perpetually about to 'make a move' but always hesitant to do so. It's rich with harmony, and to the derision of my doubts, their voices fit together just as any good couple should. Songs like 'Killing the Blues' and 'Stick With Me Baby' feel more like a long- distance phone call between committed hearts than some slick piece of pop engineering. 'Fortune Teller' and 'Please Read the Letter' recall gone-by eras of surf and sand, yet they somehow retain the delicacy that makes this record so worth owning, and listening to over and over and over again. The music here rides like a slow crest on a beach just barely touched by morning light. Simply gorgeous.

8.
Against Me!- New Wave
Speaking of waves, this one surprised me. Admittedly, i wasn't quite sure what to expect here because my exposure to Against Me! has been so minimal over the years. I was familiar with some of their brand of anarchist punk only in the way that i'm familiar with Jessica Biel because i know someone who's met her. (Apparantly, she's got a big head. Physically, i mean. I don't know if it's true.)
So, how blown away was i when i popped in this disc and found myself tapping my foot in time with the steady kick right from the get-go. You could call this punk. You could call it folk. Folk-punk. It's a refreshing release, reminding me at once of some of the best anti-war songs of the 60's and also of those four-letter long punk bands i loved so much my freshman year of high school, though this is infinitely more engaging. If The Clash were still making music today, it might sound like this. "I'm looking for the crest of a new wave" is the catchy chorus line on the title track, and i think i've found mine with this one. From then on, you're consistently accosted by Tom Gabel's barked vocals, which are as jarring as they are fitting. There are more lines all over this record that are as memorable as your favourite commercials: The catch of 'Up the Cuts', "Are you restless like me?" to the fist-pumping opener of 'Stop' keeps me wanting to get up off the couch and do something! Like, right now.

Well, not really. I want to finish this. There's enough variety here to have your ears perking up every few minutes, as the track order pits fast-paced loudness ('White People for Peace') with more pensive openings ('Thrash Unreal', 'Borne on the FM Waves'). The choruses, as catchy as they are, do little to stop you from hearing the message Against Me! is trying to get across: "Stop/ take some time to think/ figure out what's important to you/ you gotta make a serious decision."
"Protest songs/ in response to military aggression/ protest songs/ trying to stop the soldier's gun."
Throw that kind of transparent songwriting with thick, gravelly vocals, and you've got something more substantial than most of what's come out this year.

7. Avett Brothers- Emotionalism
In an industry quickly being overrun with bands hanging up their Marshall stacks and screamo for acoustic guitars and alt. country, it's invigorating to hear something like what the Avett Brothers have here- a record full of emotional depth, story telling that borders on a novella, and 'boatloads' of soulful country tones. What this family band does, it does well. The harmonies on the opener, 'Die, Die, Die', are top-notch, while tracks like 'The Ballad of Love and Hate' take the storied songwriting to a deeper place with solo acoustic goodness. 'Shame is a fun confessional, while 'Weight of Lies' is full of good advice: 'Weight of lies will bring you down/ they follow you to every town/ cause nothing happens here that doesn't happen there/ So when you run make sure you run/ to something and not away from /cause lies don't need an aeroplane to chase you anywhere." It's sweet, at times somber and others celebratory, but always simple and endearing. 'Salina' makes me long for the days when people traveled the Oregon Trail, except that when it came time to fjord the river, i wouldn't. I'd find a way around it. I hate that game. Freaking kids always died, and i'd always get gored by some bull i was trying to shoot. The Avett Brothers have captured my heart, but not the way that number six has...

6. Feist- The Reminder
Leslie Feist could do no wrong in 2007. If you've ever seen an iPod commercial, you've seen her too, singing in the midst of fruit-of-the-loom reminiscent dancers, who arguably were the video. Still, the crackly vulnerability in Feist's voice is the thing that gets you in the end. It's almost a daily occurrence that i exclaim, "I want to marry Feist's voice!" (And i would, if i could wrangle up some kind of that Ursula-stealing-Ariel's-voice-with-a-shell thing) Even on her more moody tracks, she still pens some of the happiest music i've ever heard. I just feel good when she's tearing up the cones of my car speakers. I'll say it now: I love her voice. Absolutely love it. There are two people in this world that i will never get tired of hearing: Chris Martin of Coldplay, and Leslie Feist. And, this chick plays a mean guitar. And how could you not sing along with her on Letterman? I bet you did.
When i listen to The Reminder, i get that childhood crush-on-a-teacher feeling... and i love it.

(don't worry. My girlfriend can't read this from China! I'd take Valerie any day over some disembodied singing. Promise. What fun could that possibly be?)

(Well, think of the puppet shows...)

5. Iron & Wine- The Shepherd's Dog
What can be said about Iron & Wine that hasn't already been said?

...really? On Sam Beam's latest (his name always confuses me because, hey, isn't that a whiskey?) he takes a break from the whisper-soft vocals he's become known for, trading it in for layers of guitar, banjo, hand drums and sitar. It's almost as if he's having his 'Lennon' phase, but without the Yoko Ono part. It's a brilliant disc full of complexities in which anyone looking for something new to dig into will surely find solace. Full of slide and driving rhythms, you'd swear 'White Tooth Man' was something recorded years ago, not just a few back. Still, even with all of the new instrumentation, Sam's familiar dulcet tones come sparkling through on 'Resurrection Fern' and 'Lovesong of the Buzzard'. Someone at work asked as i walked by, "Iron and Wine? Shepherd's Dog?" All i could say was,

"Ohhhhhhh yeah."

4.
Radiohead- In Rainbows
I'll be the first to admit: I payed nothing for this one. That was the point. If you didn't hear, Radiohead, in an innovative move against the state of the industry, did it with out a label, and offered the album, on their website, for whatever you wanted to pay- including nothing- for a download of moderate quality. Fans responded in a big way, and until December 10th, 2007, you could get this album for free or fare, your choice, right from the boys themselves. Radiohead has always been known for their epic brand of rock, or post-rock, whatever you want to call it. This time, it seemed that the epic stature of the release was the release itself, instead of the music. Luckily, those that downloaded the album (or are planning on purchasing it in stores, January 1st 2008) were/are treated to something extraordinary in its own right. A mellower, more Creep-era of Radiohead, full of driving synth rhythms and understated guitar work. You'll not find any ethereal, noisy transitions here. Just solid, well-crafted melodies backing the quiet musings of Thom Yorke. A much more subdued record than previous efforts, this one is most likely the most accessible they've been in years. Yet, In Rainbows will appeal to even the most die-hard of Radiohead fans. Brilliant. This stayed in my car for a week and i didn't even know = big compliment. Big deal= 'All I Need' and '15 Step', though it's really hard to pick one track over another here.

Don't worry, i'll end up buying the real thing soon enough; i can't live with 180kbps for the rest of my life!

3.
Spoon- Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga Even with the 'i'll-bet-you-can't-say-it-without-laughing' title, this record has a lot more to say. The opening track is irresistibly staccato, and i dare you not to mouth "Don't make me a target" for the rest of the day. Each of the songs on this album is a meticulously crafted masterpiece, from the opener to the closing track, 'Black Like Me'. it's funny; You think the record can only pick up from 'Don't Make Me a Target', but track two pulls a fast one with more staccato, less instrumentation. To be precise, a piano is all you get. You keep thinking, "and the drums come now... now! NOW! Now?" It works perfectly, as does the transition from that one, 'The Ghost of You Lingers' (which haunts as it intrigues), to my favourite, 'You've Got Yr. Cherry Bomb'. Easily one of the most upbeat, sing-alongable records of the year, Spoon is just doing what it's always done on Ga. (I refuse to write it five times. My pinky's are hurting from all the shift-typing) This is one of those records that benefits from a decent pair of headphones, because sounds pop out at you from all over the place. Even better: sit between your speakers and crank it. Make a date of it. Invite your best girl (or guy) over, and grab some Chinese (or Mexican) and curl up under Spoon's umbrella (make out a lot). It's not the most romantic CD of the year, but really, who can say no to making out?

"Blow out that cherry bomb for me, We lost it long ago, you an' me."
Tracks to devour: 'You've Got Yr. Cherry Bomb', 'The Underdog', and 'My Little Japanese Cigarette Case'. Actually, just listen to all of it.

2. The National- Boxer
This jostled for position with my #1, mainly because i listened to this a whole lot more than i did my #1. In fact, this record has been steadily left in my car since the very day i bought it. I'm an immense fan of Alligator, the band's previous effort, and Boxer ups the ante with rhythm-against-rhythm song structure. It's like my situation with Feist- the more i listen to her, the more i want to be with her [voice]. Similarly, the more i listen to the National, the more i want to be Matt Berninger's voice. It usually takes so much for the American conscious to accept a Baritone, but The National's down-tempo, pensive way of bringing you into a situation you've nothing to do with and simultaneously feeling responsible for it is their greatest asset. Just one listen to Matt's dour and subtly deceitful lyrics won't do it- you need to listen multiple times to just break the surface tension that exists, lyrically speaking. There are endlessly memorable hooks all over this one, including:

"Showered and blue-blazered/ fill yourself with quarters" and
"You might need me more than you think you will"
"We're half awake in our fake empire"
and so many more. Most of them you won't even realize you're singing along to; you just will.

Set diametrically opposed to Matt's low-key vocals are the complex and ingenious drum beats, taking you on a ride where you're not sure of the destination. Once things settle, though, you're safe. I love this record. LOVE it.

#1- Wilco- Sky Blue Sky
This is a work of staggering genius. Tweedy and company "Shake off" their experimental, jam-band roots, instead favouring AM radio gold. The tunes on this record, though mostly more relaxed and done to death, thanks to Volkswagen's championing the Wilco cause, the songs are bolstered from any charge of mediocrity with the addition of guitarist Nels Cline, who keeps the compositions fresh and annointed. His guitar work is simply stellar, and in tracks like 'Impossible Germany', he brings a vivre to the chill that can only be described as lifting. Actually, i'm sure you could come up with something much, much better than that adjective. I've been writing a while now, so i'm sure to show signs of wear.
Nothing's gonna stop me right now. This record is pure classic rock, through and through. Singer Jeff Tweedy's syrupy, almost to the point of breaking, crooning is simply addictive, and there will be a thousand moments where you just can't help but croon along: "I have no idea how this happens" Even the title track on this record is a stand-out among stand outs, with Nels Cline backing on pedal steel, and is hard to resist singing along to. Some tracks are laid-back, others heart-poundingly virtuosic. Seriously, if you're a guitarist, you need to hear this record. Also of note, the drummer has recently been voted, "Most Tasteful Drummer".

I triple-dog-dare you: Get this record and try not to love it. It's so full of loud/soft crescendo that i can hardly keep from screaming.
If i had to pick one reason why it's number one: 'Impossible Germany'.
Two reasons? 'Impossible Germany', 'What Light'.
Three? I'd add 'Shake it Off'.
Four? Go buy it already.

Honorable mentions for this list include:
Over The Rhine- The Trumpet Child- Karen's voice is beauty incarnate.
Sigur Ros- Hvarf/Heim- Chris Martin of Coldplay said it best: "If more people listened to Sigur Ros, there would be no war."
The New Pornographers- Challengers
Dear and the Headlights- Small steps, heavy hooves- Summer fun, minus the sun
The Shins- Whincing the Night Away- killer record.
Thurston Moore- Trees Outside the Academy- Sonic Youth's guitarist goes more acoustic, but loses nothing in the transition
Dillinger Escape Plan- Ire Works- Loud, gristly, great.
Dethklok- Dethalbum-The greatest cartoon band since 'Jem'. Only these guys really are truly outrageous. Watch them on Adult Swim. They'll zazz you up a notch or two.
Andrew Bird- Armchair Apocrypha
Arcade Fire- Neon Bible

And thus ends the longest posting job i've ever undertaken. Holy crap! Get some rekkids, and stay off my lawn!
Love, and hope your new years is as great as you can make it. Peace!

Valerie. Trust me, she's news.

2007-12-06T01:13:00.000+01:00

For Cam.

Man, i never feel like i've got anything to talk about here. Having some internet diary kind of requires your life is somewhat interesting and keeping up the posting means there's got to be a LOT of cool things happening. I have no kids to gush about. No videos of the little tykes popping balloons or candid conversations about first poops. Very little goes on that feels newsworthy.

But that's just not true: Harken thyself to the screen! I have a girlfriend! A real one!

I met her at Ben and Jodi's wedding in July. Valerie is one of Ben's close friends, and somehow, some way, there was mutual interest there. We kept in touch all this time and, on November 10th, i drove to Cincinnati, OH to see her. And not just her, but her ENTIRE family as well.

Save for being more nervous than i've ever been in my life, it was a great time. Her family welcomed me as one of their own, and it didn't even seem to be a big deal that i was Val's date to her brother's wedding. Eric and Mandi were gracious hosts, and having gotten to meet them earlier in the day and talk, i felt like i was a part of the celebration. After some coaxing, Valerie and i danced, and this picture was taken.

So, Valerie, eh? Yep. She's good. Little bit about her: She's a missionary in Beijing. That's right, China. Now, some of you who know me know that i'm not a fan of long-distance relationships. Read: I suck at them. Strangely enough, it's not been at all hard to keep in touch with her. At all. It's not even the point that i spend every waking moment writing her. It's that this relationship comes without the usual worry. What i mean is that calling, writing, spending whatever time we have chatting is coming as naturally as hanging out with friends around here. It's been great. Really. Also, there's not been a moment where i've thought to myself, "I wonder if she still likes me." Not once.

My friend, Debi, was talking with me recently on why some relationships seem to work. "It seems like the ones you wouldn't normally go for are the ones that work out." I agree. Valerie is cute, is very much my type, but her personality is a bit different from anyone i've gone for previously. She's a stronger breed of woman, and really isn't so open about the happenings of her life. That's not to say she's cold; simply put by her friend Emily: "If you want to know something about Val, you have to ask." It's true. She's not the kind of person who just volunteers information. I doubt you'll ever be walking down a lonely Chinese road and hear, "Hey! I like fire trucks. Big red ones."

Nope. But it's good like that. She's way intelligent, and she has the gift of painting an accurate picture of a situation. When she tells me about the frustrations of inter-cultural teaching, she's quick to point out where she can grow. I remember being floored when one of our first conversations dealt with our own weaknesses. I knew she wasn't necessarily forthcoming about those things, but it was like i was getting this really personal, special piece of her. Such a gift.

Things have been so honest. I'm still waiting for the 'honeymoon' thing to wear off. But it hasn't. We've already had some rough spots here and there, but when we talk, it hasn't been with raised voices and guarded tones. Just another conversation. For the first time, i'm really willing to work, hard, for someone. I'm looking forward to really digging in and wrestling with each other and ourselves. She's the kind of woman that i know will be there to help talk things out, or pick me apart when i so sorely need it. Yep. She's a keeper.

I'm sure you'll hear more about her in the future; she's gonna be around.

Something else that's cool: World Harvest. It's a missions organization that some friends of mine are a part of, and somehow God has seen it through to foster connection with them for me as well. I took a trip to Philadelphia to meet with them- and they're brilliant people. I was expecting some sort of strict office atmosphere, but what i found was a group of 20+ people who really love and believe in what they're doing. I felt so comfortable with everyone, and i even got to be a part of their Thanksgiving celebration. Dan Macha is my contact, and he told me some amazing stories about the time he's spent in Prague as well. I definitely got the impression that these people care as much about Prague as i do.

Oh, so that's all for now.

Still tired, though i've already slept

2007-08-20T06:29:00.000+02:00

I'm back. Back from a week in the wilderness. Back from a week spent reflecting, searching, praying. Back from being set apart and setting aside my cares. Back from counseling. Back from this:

... but am i really back at all?

MORE TO COME

I forgot to post this last week. Harry Potter!

2007-07-24T04:51:00.000+02:00

12:01, Saturday morning- the moment that just about everybody in the world was waiting for.

HARRY. POTTER. SEVEN.
And lemme tell you, everybody in the world came to our store to celebrate its release. In full costume. To wait. And wait. Then pay. And they all probably spent the night reading. I stayed out until 2:30 am, but i couldn't stay awake for it any longer. Here's some memories:
This kid had the look down pat. When i asked him for a picture, he was more than willing to pose. Twice, because my camera all of a sudden sucks.
Here's Will. He's explaining the "Harry Potter Terror Threat Level" chart. Actually, it was just the hierarchy of colored wristbands that we gave out to give some semblance of order. Actually, it could've been either. The closer we got to purple, the more rabid people became...

The couple below was extremely cool. I met them earlier in the week when they came to reserve their copies. She was wearing an old-school transformers T, he was cracking wise. Anyway, they said they'd look for me at the HP release party, and they did! We chilled while i was directing the correct colors to the registers, and the two of them and i even made it in the local newspapers... twice! I'm a celebrity, apparantly. Two girls even came up to me at the party and asked, "Do you know who you look like?"

...the guy from RENT.

Isn't that little girl the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? She's Hedwig! You can barely see, but she's even got a tiny scroll tied to her leg. Awww, tired little eyes!
And as we reach the bottom, you'll see 1500 people, the first book sold in our store, and a very well-dressed young lady.

Wedding.

2007-07-19T03:32:00.000+02:00

Yeah, dude. Ben and Jodi= married bliss. This was probably the most beautiful wedding ever; instead of all the pomp and circumstance that usually accompanies large, gala ceremonies, this one was purely them: Laid back and joyous as an occasion like this should be.

Wedding rehearsal was hurried and hot, but seeing my com-prague-dres (yeah, that doesn't work as well as i'd hoped) on our native soil was all i needed to hold off weariness for another few hours. And i was glad to see Ben's parents again.

Now, i didn't have the greatest angle on things- Ben had asked me to take care of all the music for the wedding. Together with my super violinist friend, Megan, I helped (i hope!) set the tone for what will stand to be one of the greatest days in either of their lives.
Our song list:
Harder Now That It's Over, Ryan Adams (music only)
Falling Slowly, Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova
Out of the Woods, Nickel Creek (seating of the parents and grandparents, and the procession of the wedding party)
Pachelbel's Canon in D (wedding march)
Such Great Heights, Iron and Wine (communion)
This Heart's On Fire, Wolf Parade (the presentation/send off of the new couple)

I've never seen another wedding so full of life, so vibrant. Really. Not that any other one i've been to has been bad, it's just that Ben and Jodi gave this wedding such a personal touch.For instance, I remember laughing during the ceremony with Ben and Jodi. Instead of a cake, there was a kick-awesome ice cream bar. Oh, and party favors? A personally compiled cd of music containing the same joy and love that you'd experienced in the flesh. I genuinely felt like they were inviting me to celebrate with them. And celebrate we did.

After some toasts, some more strange than others (i'm thinking Jodi's brothers and their poem, not to mention the kiddie pool filled with jell-o packets *don't ask*) we tore up the floor to some killer tracks. The first one i remember was, "Baby Got Back". There were rock songs, slow jams, and plenty of opportunities to dance and/or suck at dancing. Like me.

As we left, Lindsey, Megan and I had all gushed about how much fun the afternoon had been. We each walked away with some new friends and a 13 hour drive ahead of us. And i walked away with a nasty sunburn that's still peeling as we speak. As i type and you read. Whatever.

So, congrats and thanks, guys...

2007-07-11T03:44:00.000+02:00

On the way to see Ben and Jodie tie the knot, we found our mapquest directions to be less than trustworthy. We should've zagged when the directions clearly said "zig", yet the mistake turned into something of a glorious surprise- and i tell you the truth, after 13 hours of driving, i needed to have my breath stolen. dig on this beach in the rich little town of Glen-something:

Lindsey takes a leisurely stroll through calm waters.

You think this is beauty?! Then you obviously didn't get to see the wedding! (More later)

Ebay madness!

2007-06-23T01:07:00.000+02:00

Hey! Guess what? I bought a bass. It's ama-zing. Chiggity-check:
It's a 1973 Fender Precision bass, Sunburst with a maple neck and black pick guard. As you can see, it's well worn. Whoever had it before myself and the previous owner must've spent 5 hours a day playing, because this rash is extreme.

The thing is, i knew i wanted this bass the moment i saw how worn it was. That's what i was going for. I didn't want a museum peice; i wanted something with history, the sweat of long club hours in every speck of rust. It still smells like cigarettes. Look at the headstock- there where the E string (for the uninaguarated: thickest one, all the way to the left in this picture) hits it's tuning post, you can see the beginnings of a cigarette burn. That's the place where musicians will most often stash their smoke while playing- right there between the strings, burning end facing up.

This bass has seen some action. There's probably 30-40% of the finish missing from the top, most of it forearm wear from playing. The other chips, nicks and scratches are all bonus. The only seemingly non-original parts on this bass are the knobs, which should be chrome and telecaster-style. These are black, and ugly. I'm ordering some new repros. I was also thinking about getting my hands on a 70's red tortoise shell guard to sub for the black one (my original desire) but i may wait for that. We'll see.

What else? The neck iself is in great condition, even with all the scars. In fact, you can actually see on the bottom of the neck where the finish has worn away, leaving the wood underneath impregnated with decades of sweat and dirt. Luckily, i like it this way. All the use has rounded off the edges of the fingerboard, giving the neck a very comfortable feel along the entire length. As i expected, the frets will need replacing, but for a 34 year old instrument, they aren't that bad.
The body is ravaged! Where once was a well-faded, 3 color sunburst now lies bare wood. Mmmm-Hmmm. In the picture of the back, you can see where the belt-buckle rash actually wore through the paint, through the wood and down to a whole other layer of wood.

I don't yet know if i'll name it or not. I have this naming convention with my instruments, and i think this one's going to require me to know its personality before i go around calling it something. All i can say, is that the most important thing- tone- is all there and accounted for. This thing sounds huge! And thanks to the age, there's a slight rolloff in the upper frequencies, indicative of some serious vintage vibe.

Since it got here, i've been jamming on Coldplay, the Killers, the Frames and the new WIlco Record, Sky Blue Sky. Go and get it if you haven't. Now. It's unbelievable. Full of lush guitar lines, jams and Jeff Tweedy's syrupy vocals.

Thanks for rejoicing with me!

Wall and Peace

2007-06-11T19:12:00.001+02:00

"Once upon a time, there was a king who ruled a great and glorious nation. Favourite amongst his subjects was the court painter of whom he was very proud. Everybody agreed this wizzend old man painted the greatest pictures in the whole kingdom and the king would spend hours each day gazing at them in wonder.

However, one day a dirty and dishevelled stranger presented himself at the court claiming that he was the greatest painter in the land. The indignant king decreed a competition be held between the two artists, confident it would teach the vagabond an embarrassing lesson. Within a month, they were born to produce a masterpiece that would out do the other.

After thirty days of working feverishly day and night, both artists were ready. They placed their paintings, each hidden by a cloth, on easels in the great hall of the castle. As a large crowd gathered, the king ordered the cloth to be pulled first from the court artist's easel. Everyone gasped as before them was revealed a wonderful oil painting of a table set with a feast. At its centre was an ornate silver bowl fell of exotic fruits glistening moistly in the dawn light. As the crowd gazed admiringly, a sparrow perched high up on the rafters of the hall swooped down and hungrily tried to snatch one of the grapes from the painted bowl only to hit the canvas and fall down dead with shock at the feet of the king.

'Aha!' exclaimed the king. 'My artist has produced a painting so wonderful it has fooled Nature herself, surely you must agree that he is the greatest painter who ever lived!' But the vagabond said nothing and stared solemnly at his feet. 'Now, pull the blanket from your painting and let us see what you have for us,' cried the king. But the tramp remained motionless and said nothing. Growing impatient, the king stepped forward and reached out to grab the blanket only to freeze in horror at the last moment.

'You see,' said the tramp quietly, 'there is no blanket covering the painting. this is actually just a painting of a cloth covering a painting. And whereas your famous artist is content to fool Nature, I've made the king of the whole country look like a bit of a twat'.

-From Banksy's latest book, Wall And Peace.

* * *

I've always had an affinity for art, especially graffiti. In a world where both shock and recycled, diminished ideas reign perched high on the commercial summit, there are very few refuges of artistic expression left untouched by the perils of celebrity. I've always felt graffiti, at least some of it, was untouched. And i'm not necessarily referencing any of the "Mike wuz here" scribbles attached to bathroom walls everywhere. I'm speaking of the politically charged, the kind that sometimes hit too close to home. The kind that coat Prague, the kind that find themselves in plain view, sometimes where you've never noticed them before. They hit you like love- all of a sudden, your sights are set, and your mind remembers them vividly. Yeah, there are copy-cats. There are shocking works on walls everywhere. But there's a difference between the shocking and 'shock', which is what i use to describe certain works that have little consequence in the way of thought-provoking, philosophically challenging art.

Banksy, whose work can be viewed all over London, is one of my favourites. His work is internationally known and, having been commissioned by such high-profile faces as Bono, he's attained a sort of anonymous celebrity. It's something necessary, of course. Having never revealed his true name to the public and scarcely giving interviews, he's at once built up a mystery long-gone from the world of fame, and given his message the spotlight.

Perhaps you've seen the chambermaid sweeping under a wall she's lifted like a carpet? I remember seeing that and thinking, "Yep. That's about right." His work isn't always so grand. Sometimes it's a rat with a paint roller declaring, "I'm worthless". His website holds rats in high regard, saying that they are the perfect mascot for the outcast. "They exist without permission..." is one of the more affirming qualities they possess, making them seem like some kind of sub-basement heroes. Most of us can relate to that. I know i can.

Click the title of this post. Don't just look at the photos; consider them. There's something endlessly freeing in his work.

Hello, Kitty!

2007-05-11T04:34:00.000+02:00

Look who picked up a shift at work today!

That's Stacy, the cafe manager in the suit, and Tara and Cindy gettin' some kitty love.

I love my job!

Country Music's Gone To The City

2007-05-04T00:59:00.000+02:00

I spent last Friday night in New Freedom, PA. What's there, you ask?

The WagonShed. It's a Country/Bluegrass/Folk Jamm. It's behind a guitar shop, inside the most incredible old house i've ever seen! I can't express how much history hung on those walls- guitars strewn about, and on the walls, photographs both recent and aged, depicting the many artists that have played here, as well as what appeared to be family jamm sessions from the seventies.

When you walk upstairs, you're likely to marvel at the tiny stage and how so many people can fit in one place. The front row is really against the stage, so much that you can prop your feet up and touch the monitors and piano with the front of your shoe. I had an idea that there were going to be a few people there, but i didn't expect the place to be packed like it was.

The whole thing starts around 8 PM, and when we left around 11:30, there were still a bunch of people left to go on stage. A friend, Megan, and i were going to play some music, but after waiting and listening so long, we were worn out.

Another cool thing is that all of the performances are simultaneously recorded and streamed live on the internet, and there are listeners from around the world, apparently.

It was a pretty amazing night, and a few artists stood out, like this guy:

I'll be darned if i can remember his name, but he's been around forever recording and travelin' around this great big country, playing some great big country. His most memorable song, about how country music has "gone to the city", encapsulates his entire catalogue, very old-school and with vocals and words that remind you of the best days country ever had: it's beginnings. He got onstage, gave a little greets, and started stompin' his foot and playing that git-ar like he was ol' Hank. He was my favourite of the night, and mostly because he was the only one with a cowboy hat. Kidding, he really embodied a lot of what country was, and felt like he really cares about it.

There was this one other guy: Imagine, for instance, that Bill Nye the Science Guy learned folk guitar and sang your science instead of demonstrating it in entertaining ways. Imagine that what i just for instance'd really exists in a whole other person. You'd have this other guy. (i really should write down names) (maybe better like this)

He got up to the mic and told us the story of his first. He said he'd read an article about supernovae, how they break down and explode and such things. How the waves of particles move and dissipate, and how one goes off every second. Also, how a person dies every second, like the supernova is inside all of us.

So, i'm thinking, "Oh, man he's talking a lot. I'll bet it's all metaphorical."
I was so wrong. He effectively sang the entire article, then said the thing about people dying at the end. He was a good guitarist and had a pleasant voice, yeah. But because of my weariness at that point of the night, and because it was funny, i couldn't help giggle out loud (i wasn't alone) whilst text-messaging Holly, who was up front at the time.

There were some amazing talents there that night, and vocal harmonies as rich as Scrooge McDuck.

We were some of the only young people there, and everyone else was re-living some of the good ol' days. Outside on the porch, there were people my parent's age, hanging out and talking about days gone by, whilst smoking something that did not smell like cigarettes, if you catch my drift. It was still cool, seeing everybody get together and having a great time, as if it really were their teenage years.
Hey! More to come!

Wild Night

2007-04-25T03:34:00.000+02:00

I never did post these bad boys...

My family rocks. Easter was well spent dining, laughing, and Maarten hitting the same button on that ill-begotten Thomas the Train book. Mmm-hmmmm.

An actual, up-to-date post is forthcoming. Good luck, Phil and Shanna. I believe fully in the vision that you both have in Prague, and i can't wait to check out your church!

Hope all is well.
My love is spread like jam for you all. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Ham On Rye

2007-04-20T05:18:00.000+02:00

Barring the obvious Bukowski reference, there is more to this phrase than just a delicious combination.

Here's a story!

Back in high school, there was this girl, Maura. She was one of the more popular people, but was herself with everyone. Always one of my favourite people, she would accompany my friends and i to lunch our senior year. We'd high tail it to Taco Bell in my gorgeous white minivan, and talk famously about life, love, and lyrical content. In short, Maura is a rad, rad person.

Fast forward to last year, and we get back in touch through myspace. (isn't it novel?) So, when i returned from Prague, we caught up in a big way. Little did i know, there was a hidden agenda.

What i've always known is that Maura has a heart on her. What i wasn't so aware of was to the extent that heart desires to reach out to others. She came to me with a vision for feeding the homeless and giving them hope. It's so close to what we did in California, taking food to the homeless and then eating with them, sharing stories and trying to get to know them. It reminds me of the great experiences i had with the homeless in Prague, and specifically one kindly gentleman with whom Brad and I had a most rewarding and life changing experience.

Anyway, the vision is pretty simple: We're going to feed the homeless, love on them, and maybe give some hope out as well.

We're working on becoming a full-on non-profit, and we've got a myspace page! www.myspace.com/hammonrye
Check us out! Click the title of this blog, or the link above, and maybe get involved! Anyone living in PA: wanna help out? Come scout out York City with us, and help us out!

Maura loves anything organic... especially ORGANS.
More later. Forthcoming, most rockinest blog eva.
Love-Love! Michael

2007-03-27T00:59:00.000+02:00

Hey, blog. I know it's been awhile, but look: I've thought about you a lot while i was gone, and, well, i missed you. Lets' catch up? What? What i've been doing? Well, it's a funny story...

I got sick a few weeks back. Actually, a few of those weeks were sick ones too. Doctor said i had a bacterial infection, and waiting it out by that time was the best option. I was sick in bed for a week, and the next week was spent battling a residual cough. I'm better now, but man! that was rough.

I sent my application for missionary status to the Church of God World Missions board, so i'm hoping to hear back from them soon. Part of me expects to get a no, as if i'm not quite what they're looking for. I think that's just my past talking, because i've been told that a lot by churches i loved. That's been happening a lot lately, my past creeping up behind me and whispering to me. See, realationally speaking, i've been scared. It's not of anyone. It's a fear of commitment, or a fear of the past repeating itself.

I've been distancing myself from pieces of that past, and it's been months since those pieces have entered again. I'm glad for that, because I've never been happier. I'm not worried about it anymore, you know? Without those pieces, i thought i'd be able to have the space i never did, to "get over it" as so many of us so aptly put it.

Sadly, not the case. The space helps, yes. But i'm still not ready. Sometimes i wonder if i'll ever find myself totally over what happened. If i'll feel the release that sends me joyfully to what i know awaits me. Until then, i suppose i've got some work to do. And i know that what i just said seems to conflict with me not worrying about it. It's just that very, very recently, i've realized how it still holds me back. And how i'm not quite at the end of that road, although i am closer than i've ever been.

* * *

Yesterday, i went down to Towson, MD to hang out with a new friend, Holly. I met her at the Denison Witmer concert, and i mentioned her in the last post, "My california brown and blue". In short, she's good people. In long, she's someone to consider not only a good friend, but an ally. Sounds wierd. What i mean is that Holly knows how to care for people, how to show them a great time, she has a rule about taking gifts with her when she's been invited somewhere. It's a really good rule, ps. I got some sweet gum out of it. She listens with the intention of stepping in to another person's story. She gives well rounded feedback. She tries to see what you see, and when your heart is laid bare, she covers it. Holly is an amazing woman, fakt jo.

I visited her on campus. She took me for a tour. We checked out the chapel, which has these huge, beautiful doors. They aren't ornate; it's simplicity of some woods, that, as they fade to a sun burned orange, they seem more lavish than they truly are. She took me to "It's a Book Thing", where there are free books as far as the eye can see. I picked up Charles Dickens' David Copperfield. I just wiki'd it, and did you know that Kafka called his book, Amerika, a "sheer imitation" of this novel? Did you know that it was Freud's favourite? And it was free. It's a nicely worn edition, too. I can hardly wait till i feel like being intellectual and well-read again. (I'm a big phony, it's no secret) Cue rabbit trail in 3... 2...

People come in to work, ask me about a book and i show them where it is. That's my job, yo. Sometimes, someone will comment that i'm "intellectual" or "well-spoken" or i "have glasses". I'll get the observation that i "seem to read alot". I don't say no, but i also don't say yes. I just let them think what they want, because (and i've realized this only recently) that my lack of a vast repertoire of novels, fastened securely under my belt, is easily the thing i'm most embarrassed about. I don't know how it happened, but the more i think about it, it's because of some amazing people i met a few years ago that are intelligent, beautiful, and well-read. Speaking with them is so interesting. When they quip, it's referential, and over some people's heads. I always thought that was so cool!

I want to be like that. What is it with humans- why we have this need not only to improve upon ourselves (which is a noble endeavor indeed), but, in a manner of speaking, to "pimp" ourselves? We take an inherently good quality like becoming the best we can, but we then extend that to becoming the best person anyone ever can. My best is not the best of another. No matter how much i wish myself to be tan and dark and, maybe a little Banderas, it's not really going to happen. I have got the acent down, though.

I was reading Marcus Aurelius' Meditations, and he speaks of emperor Antoninus Pius, his adoptive father. This was a man that seemed to be just as he was. Why can't i just be satisfied? What is it within me that desires so much to be different that i feel shame for not having changed already?

"Not a vestige of casuist's quibbling, the lackey's pertness, the pendant's over-scrupulosity could be charged against him; all men recognized in him a mature and finished personality, that was impervious to flattery and entirely capable of ruling both himself and others. Moreover, he had a high respect for all genuine philosophers; and though refraining from criticism of the rest, he preferred to dispense with their guidance. In society he was affable and gracious without being fulsom. The care he took of his body was reasonable; there was no solicitous anxiety to prolong its existence, or to embellish upon its appearance, yet he was far from unmindful of it, and indeed looked after himself so successfully that he was seldom in need of medical attention or physic or liniments."

That, friends, is what i should aspire to. Christ was the same way. I'm not saying Jesus never read a lot or studied a lot, nor am i saying he never did sit-ups in the morning. (look at the crucifix- I mean, have you SEEN those abs?) I'm saying Jesus wouldn't have done these things in an attempt to dictate what someone else thought of him. When i read the Bible, i get the distinct impression that Jesus just hung out. Or hanged out. This has been of some debate, especially with me and holly. When someone is found, hanging by the neck from a rope, the person hanged himself. Not hung himself. It's hanged. So when i drive to MD to hang out, then i come home and tell everyone how much fun it was, do i say we hanged out or that we hung out. GRRR!!! Perhaps, in this case, vernacular has more say in the structure of phrasing than pure grammatical fact. I digress, because man, i trail too much.
Jesus just hung out. Sounds better. Scripture says that he gave no special respect to anyone. Philosopher, King, Tax Collector, Prosti- all of them were the same. Just people. People with hearts, minds, thoughts, regrets, opinions, loves, passions and a need to be needed and a need to be loved. All of us are the same like that. So, Jesus never saw a politician and thought, "Oh my gosh, i hope he likes me and hears what i say and thinks it's just the greatest..." Jesus was constistent. He went to any situation the same man as ever. The same man, both fully God and fully human.

Never anxious. Never worried about looking a certain way. No one else told him who he was. No one was naming him.

He was Jesus.

Is it okay for me to say i admire that? That i'd like to be like that? That's the issue, my wanting to be like others. But what a triumph to be so comfortable with oneself that that person is consistently themselves at all moments, at ease with who they are and what they are becoming.
I will strive for that.

What was i saying? Oh yes. Book thing. Gotcha. And hey, i've been reading Marcus Aurelius. Seriously. I worry too much.

Then, Holly took me to this amazing little restaurant, what was it called? Moon something. Something moon. Crap! All i know is, we had a fabulous dinner together. We spoke like old friends, discussing what's happening in our lives as if we've already got all the context we need. The food was great, the atmosphere was eclectic, which fits our personalities. It was a nice little place, kind of like a punk rock diner, with dismembered mannequins strewn about.
Later on, after hanging with her roommate, we went to see "300" at one of the oldest, coolest theaters in America. Guess what! Don't remember that name either. I only took shots of the inside, i'm sad to say. But it was a fantastic, charming place. Look at that picture! No, it was no Narodni Divadlo. But its appeal was equal, just on a different level. It was ... American.

They even had a freakin' Yoda! No no no, not just any Yoda. A freakin' one. Look at him! I never thought he'd be so tall. So robust. He's holding a pretty weak sword, but still very cool. And much less creepy than that dog "sleeping" below him. It's one of those ones made to look like a real dog, complete with a rising and falling tummy so it looks like it's breathing. Sick. Sick. Sick.

300 rocked, by the way. Made me want to work out, hard. And yell alot. Then fight. grow a pointy beard and marry a woman that totally kills a guy. Dang! Being a spartan rocks! And is so visually stunning!

After the sweet movie, we high-tailed it back to campus, all the while talking. Now is where i explain the opening shot. There's this earthmover on Holly's campus, right across from her dorm. She's got a thing for dozers, tractors, the like, and she'd been commenting that she wanted to touch it, but was afraid. There are social taboos on touching Caterpillars that aren't yours. Serious. Look it up.
So, in an effort to be just plain nuts, we decided to climb on it. After a while, climbing and generally mucking about, i stepped over to the bucket and saw a shot worthy of taking. We huddled together in the cold night on the left tread, and sat as my camera made 30 moments fade into one.

We hanged out (like nails on a chalkboard, that one) for another hour, talking and taking turns reading out loud from a trashy romance novel i picked up from the free book emporium. At first it was sheer curiosity, a need to see just how crappy these things get and still find themselves published. Then it morphed in to some kind of sick competition to see who could read through a section without either getting grossed out, laughing hysterically, or a combo of either. The book wasn't so explicit, but the writing was on par with Kris Kristofferson's loving response to his wife in the original Amityville movie:
She said, "I love you"
He said, "Love you back"

Ugh.

I left that campus with rest added to my weary soul and a ring in my ear. But it wasn't a ring. My car needs brakes, bad. Thanks, Holly. Thanks more than i can say. I owe you, bigtime.

Oh, yeah. It's been snowing a lot.

My California Brown and Blue

2007-02-17T23:16:00.000+01:00

"This is the part of the night where things get loud and rocky.", were the first words out of his mouth. His smile betrayed the sarcasm in his tone, intentionally. We all laughed because yeah, it was funny and ironic, but moreso because we all knew that what we were here for wasn't some extravagant, self-righteous rock group; we were here for the demure and whisper-soft musings of one of the singer/songwriter genre's best-kept secrets: Denison Witmer. (clickitty-pop on the title of this post!)

A Pennsylvania native, Denison seemed to invite us all along with guarded tones and perhaps a feigned lack of bravado. He shared during the silence between aural canvases about the week he'd had with the icy winter chill that had overtaken Pennsylvania earlier on. He said, "I have an apartment in Philadelphia, but I've been spending time with my family in Lancaster since november... my father had to have his esophagus removed, and my mom and i were snowed in at Hershey Medical center, so we found a hotel a few blocks away from the hospital, and i got to thinking how funny it was that in such a short time, i've gone from living on my own in Philadelphia to moving back in with my family, and now i'm sharing a bed in a hotel room with my mom. It's gotten bad." He even took a break in the set to talk about his newst love- knitting handbags.

Altogether, though, Denison gave the feeling that he's just an older brother- one that's lived a little more, loved and lost a little more, worked hard but hasn't gotten distant, and stays in your room when he comes home to visit, always up for talking or wrestling and always wears the sweater grandma made just to be nice. Through the caged words, he still felt like a loving, down-to earth soul, and his songs fit right in.
He didn't play for very long, but the set lasted well after he left the stage. His music is pure, and introspective. It's well-informed and not self-absorbed the way so many are these days. In fact, most of his songs felt like postcards from old friends- even postcards you send yourself, with every bit of sentimental value wrapped up in packages too small to be complete satisfaction, leaving you wanting more and more.
The rest of the acts that performed were unique and beautiful as well. Matt Winn opened, with a fresh take on creating melody on the guitar, consisting of complex beats on the top of the guitar, and coaxed harmonics, tapped and slapped on the finger board. Watching him was a lesson on technique. (www.myspace.com/mattwinn)
The Secrecy surprised me. The country sound is very, very chic these days, leaving us with just as many semi-colon attempts at greatness as new country, emo, and the garage band movement. These guys are young, but it seems that their sound and stage persona is well-established, dealing out catchiness like a cardshark and backing it with Violin and Viola melodies, making you wonder what other tricks they've got up their sleeve. Throwing in a cover of "Folsom Prison Blues" by Johnny Cash isn't a bad idea either. The girl on Violin sang it, and hearing it from a woman's voice was not only a change of perspective, but like a well-hidden sidestreet you rarely take- and realize that it's a beautiful diversion from the well-worn. (www.myspace.com/thesecrecy)

I couldn't get pics of Matt Winn because the light levels were too low to not get a clear pic of him- me moved quite a bit. Also, i was entranced, so i gave myself permission to be wooed. Musically wooed. I'm not like that. I got some pics of The Secrecy, but they also moved a lot, and the lighting+ my camera= big blurry. Except this'n:

I spent most of my evening sitting next to a girl named Holly, the traveling companion to Matthew Winn for the evening. She grilled me about Prague, seeing me editing pictures on my shiny new lappy. Really good conversation, and i noted how odd it is that these days, when you meet someone, you exchange myspace urls instead of email. She was fun to talk to, though. Oh, and Matt studies language, teaches on it as well, and HE could do the Czech R. The one with the hacek. He nailed it! Dang! Good, good night. Thanks, Hannah, for inviting me. That was all i needed.

More to come.

You make me feel like i am home again

2007-02-07T03:51:00.000+01:00

Wow... I can't believe i misspelled "Soldier" in the title line of my last post. You get a cookie if you noticed.
That's my friend Greg. I've known him 10 years or so, becoming fast friends through the rock show circuit. It's one of those relationships that picks up right where it left off, never skipping and never changing. In a world of furious change, I can say Greg has always been a constant. Even in demeanor, as i don't think i've ever seen Greg let anything get him down more than once. That was a long time ago, that was. The thing about Greg is, he's always the most excited person you know. If you're around, he's excited to see you. If there's a concert, he's excited. Some of you know how i throw my thumbs up when there's nothing else to do or when something's really swing. I got that from Greg. When i think of him, the first thing that comes to mind is a slideshow of the many times Greg has thrown out his two thumbs and made a kind of "oh-awwww wwwwwhhhhhaaaaa" sound. Guy-excited. Kind of in between a laugh and the sound you make when you can't believe a word you just heard, but you can't help but think the offensive is hilarious.

The second thing that comes to mind when i think of Greg is the him-and-me colloquialism, "Sweer". I can't even tell you how it came about, except to say that he and i have a knack for taking two words and combining them. What it was, was that we'd taken to calling each other "Sweet Queers" at some point many winters ago. Then Sweet Queer became sweer when we wanted to say it in church or during worship practice. When i'd mess up, he'd yell something like, "Get it right, sweer!" or, "Way to go, ya sweer!" I guess you had to be there. Or be here, because we still use it like it's not dumb. And we love it. Oh, and do please be here. I miss you so.

Greg asked me a while back to help with his worship team at NEXT church, a sweet little operation next to the local Gabriel Brothers' second hand store. It's led by Pastor James, who is totally led by God. The man has such an amazing vision for the church filling in the gap between how church should be and how it is. He's honestly one of the few pastors that gets that. He's incredibly personable, but real and honest to the point of surprise and astonishment. Heck, he even includes me in huge descisions concerning the fate of the church and i'm not what you'd call a regular attendee, balancing my time and efforts between next and Praise Community COGI love that man, and whole-heartedbly believe and back his church and vision.

Anyway, Greg asked me to help out, and since then we've been jamming and making some good noise. Really good noise. Not only has worship been musically exciting, but also it's been worship as well. Greg's in charge, so part of what makes it so good is because he's the kind of guy that you just get along with and the kind of musician who just plays and makes it good. I love Greg.

So that brings us to more good stuff: I'm getting involved with his band, Pilot Number Five, and helping out with a worship night they're doing 2 sundays from now, then maybe moving into some of their songs. They won't be touring or playing every weekend, so it fits perfectly. Even better, the other 3 guys in his band, Mike and Dan Tyson, and "Gallager" have all known me as long as Greg, so not only do we get along, but the perfect fit scenario plays out with them as well. Already, after one practice, i'm feeling quite good about where we are musically and my hands are getting all the chances they can to rock out. We're doing a Leland song (reaching) and All I Need Is You from United. Also, Image of the Invisible by Thrice, and The Cure's Lovesong are on our worship list for the night. I'm friggin' stoked (where's Greg and his thumbs?!)
Another cool thing that happened is the very device i'm using to update: I bought me a laptop. Meet my MacBook Pro. It's my first computer, so i spared few expenses making sure i'd have it for a long time coming. I got the 200G Harddrive. I had Aperture pre-installed. I've spent the last 4 or 5 days loading all of my photos, music, and finding album covers that iTunes won't, making sure everything is perfect. I love it. It's fabulous, really. I can't tell you how much i love it; it's just a blessing that i thank God for. I'm so happy to have finally worked hard and had it pay off in this way. Now if i can just get some presentations together...

This week is looking promising. Hanging out at church tomorrow, then with Jess from Next, and sometime this week i look forward to hearing from Jessica Zerbe...

Love-love. Be safe. Have fun, love you.

I've got soul, but i'm not a sodier

2007-01-26T02:49:00.000+01:00

Pardon my crotch, but Dude, check out this sweet belt buckle i found in my basement!

Man, i'm having an awesome week. After a chat with my COG Pastor, and some consideration given to my Tourrette's, i've changed up my hours at work from 12am-8am to 5am-1pm. Now, i work with customers (with varying degrees of success) and i'm free to spend the days how i'd like, leaving work just after lunch.

I'm feeling like i'm getting better at what i'm doing there, which doesn't just mean shelving books; I'm getting to know some of my co-workers, and i'm kind of sorry i hadn't had the chance before now. For instance, there's this guy, James. He's pretty cool and all, but then i found out that we took music lessons at the same place- then i realized who he is. Right before my lesson started, my teacher, Jeff Gibble, always had this kid before me who played bass. I remember thinking that he played a nice bass, that he was really cool, and i remember him wearing a black baseball cap every week. Anyway, so i meet James, and we're talking about lessons and who we had, and it's THAT GUY. Wow. He's much less cool than i thought but he's still above average.(ha, I kid i joke)

Why, yes, i do find geometric shapes to be titillating, indeed. (Especially trapezoidal ones... *makes noises like Homer for a donut) That's our fridge at work.

Cafe girl Stacy also talks to me sparsely now. She had this huge-a** cookie the other day- I mean HUGE. If Pizza Hut made a 3 to 4" deep dish chocolate chip cookie, this is what it would be like. I asked her what the heck she was eating, and her response was "Pure Fat". I agreed, and somehow we got on the subject of cookie cards or something. Anyway, she ended up giving me the hook up on the condition that i don't suck. I told her i didn't think i did, but i might suck a little. I hope i live up to expectation.
Then there's Hannah. Hannah is pretty fun to work with, always cracking wise and giving a hard time to and getting one from the managers. We talked a good bit today about church, about feeling unqualified to share our faith, and about music. She's got good taste, for sure. Oh! And on the 16th of February Denison Whitmer is playing at her Church. That's exciting. Even moreso because of the $5 asking price. I'm. So. There. P.s. We're friends on myspace now. It's so funny that Myspace is starting to replace the phone number, or even the e-mail address.

What else? I sent some love to the Czech Republic Monday. Chock full o' goodies for all the tykes and parents to enjoy. Actually, it's just full of Christmas presents i couldn't send. I went and bought them all, not remembering to keep money for the actual shipping of the box. Look out world (Jess specifically, at least initially). Comin' atcha. Merry Freaking late late late christmas. I also sent JonStone a book i thought he'd enjoy... also damningly late.

I'd been talking about this idea for weeks now, and i've finally worked it out: I bought a Violin Bow the other day. "But Michael, you don't own a violin", scoff the scoffers. (i know this) See, I'm using it for electric guitar. The obvious Led Zeppelin comparison comes into play here, which i definitely respect, but i don't want the bow to be a gimmick as much as a tonal ingredient to my overall sound. I can't use it for everything; in fact, i hadn't been able to transition from bass side to treble side strings until tonite. I have been practicing all week, and though i'm still in the most infantile stages of the experiment, the more i use it, the more sustain i can coax from the thing.
It's quite the challenge, going from pick to this awkward span of horse hair. It took me a while to figure out how to hold the darn thing, and my right wrist sometimes hurts if i don't do it just so. I'm getting there, though. Combining it with uncommon amounts of gain, at least for me, and heavy reverb and well-timed delay is yeilding cello-like girth on my low strings, while remaining full and haunting as i move to the higher side. The only draw-back is the Rosin, which is integral to achieving any friction to produce sound. It leaves behind a snowy, sticky coating on my pickups and guitar body, and almost instantly dulls even brand-new strings. I'll not use it often for now, so if i get the opportunity to buy another guitar sometime before i head back to Prague, i'll definitely get more into it. Wayyyyyyyyyy fun.

Sadly, I was unable to buy a laptop this weekend because i don't have enough credit. Solution: I applied to 12 credit card companies. 2 of them approved me. I say, let the irresponsible spending commence!!! Hopefully i'll get at least one of them before too long, so that i can actually purchase the Mac of my dreams. I even want to go to the most expensive restaurant in town so that i can feel the shame of the waiter coming to me and telling me my card's been declined. Just like all those master card commercials back in the day. Man! What was that? Everyone was going to french restaurants! Ha! Seriously. People dig that stuff, i guess. I just want to dress up and then look horrified and uncomfortable, maybe even getting in a fight with the manager over my inadequate credit limit. These are my first cards, so, i mean, like, I should have some fun, yeah?

In conclusion: Some more wacky Authors!!!

When i think of food and the way i like it, these two names come to mind immediately.

If you could drink music, later on you'd...

Rarely do you see a question with an answer right there on the spine. Oh, Christians!

Seriously. I don't even need to make up a punch line. HA!

Be safe. I love you. More to come...

Bringing Sexy Back

2007-01-19T13:25:00.000+01:00

There's just one question on my mind. Everytime i hear Mr. Timberlake's latest pop offering, i more often than not wonder aloud, 'Hey, where did sexy go?'. Last night, i may have found the answer.

I was spending some quality time with friends Kristen and Lauren last night. We met at my house, ate some Tony's, then went out for some Sushi. Apparently, Lauren says, you can't just go for sushi on an empty stomach because it's way too expensive and won't fill you up. I think i agree.

After sushi, and a quick pit-stop at a wine shop, we high-tailed it back to Kristen's house, where we settled down in front of the television for some My Super-Sweet Sixteen. It's one of the few things that can be both terrifying and entertaining at the same time.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyway.
Lo and behold, Justin Timberlake's Bringing Sexy Back graced our ears and eyes, and once again i voiced my concern for sexy's wellbeing.

"Where did sexy go? I mean, did sexy just leave and not tell anybody? That's so rude."
Lauren Laghed. "All of a sudden, no one can find sexy, and some guy's like, 'Oh, yeah, sexy left."

"Without saying goodbye?"

"Yeah."

Then Justin's all, "It's cool, guys, i'll go get her."

Later, we call sexy on the cell phone, and we're like, "Sexy, what the hell? Where are you? Why did you just leave and not say goodbye?" And Sexy's like, "It's ok guys, i'm fine. Justin's here. He's bringing me back!"

"I'm so glad Justin was there."

So, on the way home, i was wondering why Justin gets to bring her back. Why sexy left. Then it hit me: Justin made her leave.

Remember the Superbowl? The whole wardrobe malfunction thing? The very second Justin pulled back the "curtain" on Janet's right (was it left?) booby, sexy was like, "I'm getting the hell out of here!" And no one had seen her since.

Thank you, J. T. For bringing sexy back.

So, i turned 25 the other day (monday). It was pretty rad. My family came over and we swam. Swam? In winter? Yes. My parents live in a retirement community; it's a 55+ deal. No schoolbusses, no children playing in the streets or yelling or getting on people's damn lawns. Nope. It's a peaceful, utopian place where the speed limit is 15 and everyone is exactly like you: Old.

I'm just kidding. Everybody is old, though. Just sayin'. But they're nice, and that's important. When i run during the summer- and this is not made up, nor is it grossly exaggerated like everything else i say- the elderly line the street and cheer for me. No kidding. It's happened twice. Last time i counted 8. They were on either side of me, clapping. As i ran past each one, they had a word of encouragement for me:

"Go get 'em, kid!"

"Go for the gold!"

"My paper goes on the porch, not the driveway!" [shakes cane angrily]

Seriously, i felt like Edward Bloom or something. It was surreal. And intense. Intensurreal. But that's neither here nor there.

Since we live in a retirement community, there's also a rec center that houses an olympic-sized swimming pool. It's the crap. Sometimes, i do laps lengthwise and feel muscular or butch, depending on the day. We swam for a good 2 hours, during which i discovered that pool noodles have a hole in the middle that you can blow water out of, or use as a separate mouth that throws up water to the delight of youngsters.

Then we came back to the house for a pizza party and later there was ice-cream cake. Mmm-mmm. Josh hung out, too.

Before we ate, though, something extraordinary happened. I got a phone call from Prague. First, they called my phone and sang happy birthday to my message service, then i called them back. I got to talk to Phil, Jess, Sunny, Shanna... Jessamyn sent birthday wishes. So good. So. Good. I've had some really good birthdays these last few years. There was the kidnapping and movie and music video 50's diner in California. Then Prague with the Stones, Kelley, Brad, Sunny, Jess and everyone else. Now i get a phone call from some of the greatest people in my life... I am blessed. That made me so happy; that was the shining gift for me.
So, thanks everyone, for all the well-wishing and the phone calls. Special thanks to the Prague group. I miss you guys so much. Thanks for making me feel a bit closer to home.

I love you all. You truly have brought sexy back to the life of this quarter century old gent.

I spent some of my birthday spoils on Neko Case's Live From Austin City Limits DVD, which is amazing, and another Star Wars droid. The sweet life? It will be, come next week, when i'll be much less rich, but a whole lot more computer savvy. I'm using my hard earned monies to purchase a laptop. More on that as it develops.

Love! More to come.

Part 4 of an ongoing series.

2007-01-06T14:27:00.000+01:00

What else have i been doing? I've been bein' awesome.

I've been on this action-figure kick lately. It all started when i passed by the Star Wars section at Wal-Mart. I saw the new R2-D2 sculpts, which are impressively detailed, and i knew i had to have one. Since that fateful day a month ago, i've been checking for new ones every time i go in. I've since bought one more, and am planning out my next obsessive purchases. They're just so cool!

Can you feel the excitement? As i unceremoniously tore the card from it's treasure, i knew this would be no ordinary day. Soon i felt hard plastic on my fingertips, each ridge and moving part sending joy electric to my pumped-up brain. I even documented the improved detail that this newest line of R2's embodies. Just writing about it makes me wanna break em out and start playing, hard. Check it out: Shiny, accurate goodness next to old, busted oldness (foreground). Note the hoses on the "feet" and the lack of them on the old model. Dude, they're just painted on? How lame is that? Or maybe the highly detailed paintjob? See the green on the dome of the old one? I put that there cuz as a child (or severely bored 12 year old) i couldn't stand the lackluster presentation. Even the "feet" are able to angle now for a more realistic lean when the 3rd leg is used, which used to make me throw tantrums in the store as a kid. I'd kick and scream, and hope that George Lucas could hear me, and felt really bad. Don't even get me started on how bad i tantrumed when he started messing around with the films. Or when he decided to make the new ones. Can there be any less chemistry between two actors? Back to the plastic perfection: They're "dirty" and "used", and they've even put wheels on the sucker!

Then i went back and bought R5-D4. That's the sweet-butt red one. It's the next best thing to owning one. Owning a real one would be the crap. They're expensive, but worth every penny. Don't believe me?

Click here.

"Uncle Owen, this one has a bad motivator!"

The Acquisition of these new toys has led me to dig up some of my past. I've tracked down my old Ghostbusters toys, including the backpack, and even Star Trek stuff has resurfaced after years lying dormant in boxes in the basement. Now Ronin Warriors battle for supremacy on my coffee table. Ahhhhh, i need friends.

The World Is Ours, Part 3

2007-01-06T13:48:00.000+01:00

Aunt Lydia and Nan at my first Sunday dinner back in America.

FAMILY.

You know that whole over-used cliche about absence making hearts want to be closer? It's true.

Since i've been home, i've come into a new understanding and appreciation for my immediate. There's my gracious parents, who seem to acknowledge that i'm different and are making effort to get to know me. My Gramma recently explained to me why she wasn't able to make it to Prague last year, but says she's saving up to come visit me, which i welcome. There's Nan, who's aged since the last times i've seen her, but has in no way lost her candor or weight of presence in our lives.

I've gotten so much out of these last few months- you don't even know. Christmas with these people was a blessing. I had been feeling unable to connect spiritually for some time, and when i voiced this, my gramma, my uncle, and my cousins Kim and Cam jumped in and we ended up talking for half an hour about what makes church a home, and why it is that it's so hard to find. I had a few churches suggested to me, and warned about a few as well, but i think what i was looking for, i found in my family. Daniela Augustine says it like this: "Theology can only happen in the context of community."

Birthday parties. Going to see the Christmas lights at Rocky Ridge. Taking Katharine and Maarten to Chuck E. Cheese's (seems to be a whole lot of that going around, eh Sunny?) Things that once missed, never happen again. Now that i've been here for them, i can't imagine living without them. I'm so grateful to God for this new dawn on family for me... I've gone far too long without it.

Cam, Matt, and their beautiful Daughter, Owen.

What I've been doing (part 2) 'Unfortunately Named Authors' Edition

2006-12-30T14:35:00.000+01:00

WORK

I started working at Borders Bookstores in mid-October. It was such a quick process, i couldn't believe it was all happening so fast. I had an interview on Friday with the store manager, Jim, and that went really well. I came back in on Sunday for a meeting with the night shift manager, Kim, which went even better. I was hired! She liked me, and even said that i wasn't what she expected when she heard i was a missionary, which i took as a compliment. The next night, i was stocking books. Score! Thanks to Josh for hooking this brother up.

So what's it like? Well, imagine piles and piles of books to shelve, the cool cousins and uncles in your family to work with and a rock concert, and that's about what you'd have there. The work is pretty straightforward, meaning you get a cart of books and you shelve them, while fixing the sections and sometimes re-alphabetizing. See: picture of my perfectly-stacked by letter piles of Manga, which is also my favourite section to shelve.

While all this is going on, we've free reign to pop anything we want in the overhead system. Actually, not free-reign. They don't like Underoath, so that's been our only restriction. Our nights consist of anything from Motorhead to Aimee Mann, Shiny Toy Guns and M.Ward, Nickel Creek, Mew, Cat Power, Bowie, and the National. We're even allowed to open the displays and take any records we want for the night. I'm thankful for that, because it's a huge part of what makes the actual work go so smoothly.

Just look at the cute Manga display i made!!! And hey, 4 for the price of 3 isn't a bad deal at all, no siree. All those stickers are my handywork, too.

My co-workers are nuts. I love them. There's Kim, my manager; Nicole, who is kind of a manager but is in charge of the kid's section; Shawn, who does the multi-media section, is hilarious and loves showtunes, and Brady, who always makes fun of me for singing while i'm working. I can't help it! Jeez. I haven't any pictures of people yet, but i will. Oh, and when i do...

Just so you know, i love this job. I work with friends, i get to hear great music all night, and i get paid for this?! That's nucking futz! Other cool benefits of the job include:
Laid-back Atmosphere
Free promo's (books and cd's)
Being made fun of by the staff
People leaving the Great Sex for Dummies books out so they don't have to feel awkward about putting it back.

So, it's going pretty well. Hey, it's no Czech Inn, but it's a good job nonetheless.

And now... SPECIAL FEATURES!

Imagine this post as if it were a DVD. You just found the easter eggs, buddy!
Josh and I are going to start a special bonus post every once in a while in honor of the men and women of literature that have rather unfortunate names.

UNFORTUNATELY NAMED AUTHORS:
part one in an ongoing series

This one was the first i'd come across, giving us the idea to do this. I remember picking this up from the cart with the back facing me, glancing at the tag and seeing DOWNER D. i thought, "Oh, wouldn't that be great if the name was Debbie." Sure enough, i turned it over and all my dreams came true.

By Debbie Downer. I thought of Phil Davis as all this was happening.

HOW UNFORTUNATE!!!

[The picture that used to be here just got moved temporarily. oops.]
This one isnt' unfortunate, it's just freaking awesome that we have it.

I didn't know the 'Nuge was an author, then i found his hunting and gun care guide. And why is the ampersand crossed out? Kill it and immediately grill it?

Dedicated to Daniel Nesmith. Ol' Teddy has special significance to us.

That's it for now, but we're going to be taking a lot of pictures soon- we've got a list. See ya!

What i've been doing

2006-12-30T13:26:00.000+01:00

I've been back for a few months now, and i think i've got this whole America thing down. Check it:

Since I've been home, i've been hanging out with my friends, working, and spending time with my family. It's been refreshing, being in familiar places with all the familiar faces, and i've been enjoying the time i've spent immensely.
FRIENDS:

I've been kicking it, oldschool, with a bunch of cool people. Out of the people i've been seeing the most, Kristen and Josh are the ones who top the list. Kristen's a hair stylist and Car-side waitress extraordinaire at Applebee's. More importantly, she's one of the most comfortable people i know. She's equal parts style, sarcasm, and down-to-earthedness and one of the coolest girls i know. I mean, just look at that yellow jacket! She is so sweet/awesome! Even better, she doesn't think i'm completely stupid when i freak out over Star Wars action figures, which we'll have to talk about later.

Her boyfriend, Brent, is a guitarist for Art of Abandonment and another one of the people i see often. He recorded my demo and is always on my case about making another one, which will be soon-ish.

Josh... oh, there aren't enough words to describe this kid.
This is a very pre-haircut photo from the wooded area behind his house. Josh is one of those guys that surprises you. He has a merciless sense of humor but is intensely loyal; never have i experienced a more ruthless wit within such a thoughtful and well-mannered shell.

I see Josh more than anyone else because he totally scored me the job at Borders and we live less than a Get Up Kids song away from each other. He's a brilliant writer- and i mean that wholly- who sifts his thoughts like a goldrush candidly. I love listening to him dialogue, which is often with himself as i've got so little to say that he hasn't already. He makes me laugh also, but he makes me go "Awwww!" more. His jokes can be snide, coarse, or esoteric but always hit the mark. I wish i could think of some now.

OH! The first time i met him was on the way to one of his shows. (He used to scream for Art of Abandonment) He seemed quiet and reserved, and i was surprised later hearing his vocals because as far as first impressions go, i thought he was a nerd. I mean, he was playing with those jungle sticks- case in point. So, on the way home, he says these incredibly out-of-nowhere things and i'm laughing to the point of almost crying. All of a sudden, the van we're riding in hits some huge bump in the road and we all shift because of it. Ben is driving, and he yells "What the [heck] was that?!" Calmly, from the middle seat where i am sitting, Josh offers, "It was a polynesian baby!" Straight face, only half a smirk. I laugh in sheer surprise and can only respond with, "What!? Awwww....", which is what i mean by his making me say 'awwww'. Josh, to this day, claims to not remember saying this. Or any of the other things that came from him that night. (i'm giggling the way you do when it's at something you shouldn't laugh at just thinking about it.)

Sam is amazing. She drums. She guitars. She has great taste in music. What more can i say? Much more, that's what. Before i left for Prague, Sam and i were playing on the worship team for youth group. We pushed each other musically, and it ended up that we wanted to be friends, too. Sam even let me convince her to buy a Les Paul! It's so nice, too, ten years old and vintage white (actual faded vintage, not that new looks-like-it's-old stuff) It sounds good, and so does she. She's been takling Jimmy Eat World, Muse, and My Chemical Romance, whose new release is pretty friggin' awesome.

Shortly before i left Prague, my friend Barb showed me the movie Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and when i got home, Sam was the first one i shared it with. Sam's the kind of girl you can just hang out with and not worry so much about there being a lady present. Cuz if you do, she'll kick your butt. Promise.

I've only got this one pic of Olysa, but that doesn't mean she's any less important. Lys and i go way back, back to like, the beginning. She's an old friend, and someone that i definitely feel understands me and i understand back. She's working at Starbucks as a Barista! and sometimes she brings me free drinks. But that's not why i like hanging out with her. She's not only easy to talk to, but her sarcasm is a finely honed tool, as is her humor. She's another comfortable girl to hang out with, and she's intriguing to say the least. Her heart is evident from the moment you meet her, and she's retained that refreshing idealism that children have and adults envy.

Oly is one of those people you've got countless stories about but never know which one to tell. Once, a long time ago, we were driving out by my old house, and out of nowhere this rabbit leaps in front of my car, and you guessed it, i felt a bump. A backed the car up to confirm, and discovered that i had definitely hit it. I felt kinda bad, but i'm a guy and this stuff happens all the time. But thankfully, Lys was there to comfort me! She looked at me with these wide eyes and said, "Oh my gosh. You killed that bunny! It was probably on its way to a bunny party, and now everyone's going to be like, 'Hey, where's Carl? Has anyone heard from Carl?' and you know what? He's never going to show up. Cause you killed him!"

Hey, at least it wasn't Josh... *smiles mischeviously.

Lastly, there are friends that don't exactly live close, but seeing them makes all the time pass so quickly. I had the distinct pleasure of meeting up with Brandon and Ann-Marie Verbrugge while they were in town last week. If you don't know them, they're the family in Prague whose house i had the honor of cleaning every thursday. I love them so much! I couldn't believe Lydia remembered me, and seeing the little Verbrugge boy was a treat as well. Plus, i hadn't had Starbucks in a while.

2006-11-21T00:21:00.000+01:00

Remember this image. This is what we're aiming for...
The last day of our stay in Florida was marked by only the specialest of occasions: Character Breakfast! (Princess Breakfast, to be more specific.) As i could determine, there were two options: A)Stay in bed, or 2)Go and possibly meet the woman of my dreams (and of my mother's Disney collection).

I went with 2.

In all seriousliness, I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Hanging out with Katharine, Maarten, Leland, Kim and her husband Dave, and Gram has been a huge highlight of my vacation, so any opportunity to get more of that is an automatic in for me. So don't call me a perv. Just yet.

My friend Robert Orvis once asked me, "If you could marry any Disney Princess, who would it be?". My answer was swift and decisive. "Ariel. I love her.", I said, matter-of-factly. This scene played in my mind as we walked in and were told to wait in line for our first princess photo opp. As it turns out, our first pic was to be with my would-be girlfriend, sans cartoon husband, Ariel. (Would-be in the sense that if she was real, it would-be fabulous.)

...and we totally missed.

I'm not saying she's ugly. She's just no Ariel. Dude, she was super-tanned, didn't sing, and shh... i think that's a wig. Ugh. Can you imagine the sheer disappointment i felt? My heart, it sank into irrevocable dispair. I imagined us there, her posing for pictures with children, catching my eye and swooning, but wait... not swooning! No! Laughing maniacally as i was taken aback by her utter unresemblance to that mythic beauty. I was crushed. I felt my world shatter and stop, rewind, and shatter again like a hidden camera show that thinks we just didn't get the point. I was mortified, terrified, petrified... of her.

Then we went to breakfast! Yes, my expectations, shot and still huddled in my aching chest, did thier best to dissuade me from having fun, but nothing- not even an Ariel in desparate need of a recast-could have stopped me from enjoying this.

We were ushered to our table where we were served by a waiter from Norway. Like, real Norway, not Epcot Norway. We enjoyed our breakfast while princess after princess made thier rounds posing and chatting politely.

First was Belle, who was cheerful and prompt, but didn't stay very long. On a side note, when Robert Orvis asked me that question about marriage to a Disney girl, i think Belle was the #1 choice in the group. I was the odd man out. On a side note, Belle is the #2 choice among frat boys, who were seated at the table adjacent to ours.

Snow White. Ummm, i don't really remember anything about her. She's pretty close, eh? Eyes forward, little missy.

And the #1 choice among frat boys is... Jasmine! Hands down the closest representation to a Disney Princess, as well as the most handsome of the bunch, Jasmine was surprisingly attentive to Katharine and the rest of us. She actually hung around a bit and talked, asking how our trip was going and what we were doing next. That is, until she was wisked away by the Animal House twins, who flexed and pointed at Jasmine as any self-respecting college boy would.
Also, note the little girl in the background of that last picture. She was quite funny, peering over the back of her chair at us and yelling the names of princesses. Katharine has this thing where she makes the strangest faces anytime a camera is on.

Mulan. K, you know how I'm picky about my mermaids? My friend Josh is picky about his Mulans. I won't say much, but he threw my camera down in disgust when i showed him this photo. I wanna quote him, but i don't think i could do him justice.

Josh and i were hanging out recently, and somehow the subject of fish came up. Seafood, really. The fact of the matter is, i hate seafood. Sometimes Salmon is good, and sushi if it's done well. He asked me what it is about fish that i just don't like.
"It's the taste. That fishy taste makes me sick. Ugh, the smell too. I hate the smell of fish. Drives me nuts."
"You know, Ariel's half-fish."
"But she's also half-human."
"But she's half-fish. You don't think she'd smell like that?"
"No."
"She's a mermaid. She lived her whole life in the sea."
"She got legs! She wouldn't smell like fish then!"
"You think that just washes off?"
"She's half-human, alright. She has human glands and smells like girl. Come on!"

So now i'm feeling the same way i did when that impostor princess chilled me to my core. I suppose it could just never be. Plus, i know it's almost December and this trip happened 2 months ago, but there's been so much to share. Next post, i'll catch you up and start introducing you to my friends. And come to think of it, i need to get out to Red Lobster soon. <3ichael

Fire works

2006-11-20T23:44:00.000+01:00

That's Katharine, the coolest little girl in the world.
Tired, with aching feet and eyes we made our way to our saved spot in front of Cinderella's Castle just in time for the start of the evening's parade and fireworks. I didn't dare chance a photo of the parade as there wasn't quite enough light and i'd neglected, yet again, to bring my tripod. Besides, they've had those illuminated fish since i was a kid. Why waste precious memory card space on something i'd seen a thousand times before?!
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, all went dim except the anticipation welling up in our throats. The sky came alive with flame and plume, and color ran crazy over the crowd. Children alternatively laughed then cried to the bursting of playful rockets before us. As a lily, each leaf and spark revealed another facet of the music, painting spires in hues of orange, gold, and red.
At some strange moment i found myself disconnected from all the commotion about me, all the turbulence and drama unfolding in the cool autumn night, thinking. I thought through cherry bomb waves of how lucky i was that my family- parents, grandmother, cousins, all friends- were together at this moment, doing something that seemingly hadn't happened before. We were experiencing together. Before the wonder of fireworks all of us- Adams', Blouses, Tates- all witnessing something bigger than us. As i stood there in a haze, seeing myself from another angle, i was enveloped by the beauty of relationship. I had never been so thankful in my life.

For Sunny, Ben, Rebecca and Petr, the Davis's, the Syvertsens, Kristyna, but not so much Jes cuz she thought it sucked.

2006-11-16T15:18:00.000+01:00

K. At some point last summer, perhaps around July, Ben was rooming with me and came home from the Davis flat one night with something that would change the course of my week, perhaps even my month. Little did i know, this 7-disc set would force all other priorities to take second place: eating, sleeping, being productive- all shunned because of a chance enchantment. That was how i became Lost.

I thought it was going to suck. I imagined some feigned drama ala Survivor. I didn't count on that first episode shattering all expectations with one opening sequence. When Jack teeters onto that beach and we with him witness the apocalyptic aftermath of the crash, there was no excaping it: i wasn't going to sleep for days. Ben would later SMS me from Paris, saying "Yeah, France is cool, but i'd rather be home watching Lost." After planning my life around the lives of these characters for a whole week, i started spreading the news. More like forcing friends to see it, almost daring them to not love it.
Sunny was first. She came over, i popped in the disc, and soon we were finding excuses just to be in the same room with a DVD player. After we made it through all 24 episodes and a few special features, we frantically searched iTunes, hoping that our next fix was available for download. I kept thinking: What the %&$@ is in that hatch?!
I had to know. And after 15 minutes and a $1.99 transaction, we had it. Soon we'd not only downloaded half of the second season, but we'd also indoctrinated Rebecca and Kristyna, the latter of which eventually frightened me with her relentless questions and outcries over the fates of the characters. You should've seen her when they kidnapped Walt, or when Shannon died. Well, not so much on Shannon. She hated her. I think it's cuz she was with Sayid, and K thinks dark boys are teh hotness.
You could assume that we were obsessed. For my friends back in Prague (and elsewhere), i bring you pictures of LOST treasures.
I stood next to that shirt, and man, that guy is tiny.
Yes, these are the actual Vans worn by Dominique Mohana... Dominick Mona... Merri.
This is the doll that's shown when Jack finally finds his father's coffin. I don't know if it's big enough but check out the last line of the script. It's like they direct how you react. (It says: "YEAH, IT'S A COFFIN.)

Elilly?! So cute, that one. *sigh, crushes.*
And in yet another store, more LOST stuff. I haven't seen any of the new season since i didn't even finish number 2 yet, but i'm working on it. I did, however, introduce some friends of mine to another addictive show, Arrested Development. Strange, writing about all of this makes me miss you guys even more, if that's even possible.

MGM!!!

2006-11-03T20:05:00.000+01:00

The view was magnificent inside The Great Movie Ride.

And i thought it couldn't get any better than Lion King. We high-tailed it to MGM after a few more hours at Animal Kingdom, and the first thing we did was go on the Great Movie Ride. And of course, i tried to take pictures inside the thing. In case you haven't been, it takes you through the great movies of our past: Singing in the Rain, Indiana Jones, Casablanca, some generic gangster flick, The Wizard of Oz, and my personal favourite, Alien. I'm all, "Dude!", and, "Sweet!" when the Alien pops out. Actually, I knew it was coming. But i still yelled for the benefit of all.
As we left it was somehow obvious that the parade was to start. maybe it was in the air, or the buzz that was all about us. Maybe it was the crowds forming. Or, it could have just been the announcements that yes, in 15 minutes, the parade would start. Eh, i guess we'll never know.

This parade was unlike any other parades i've been to at MGM. Mostly because i don't remember any other parades, but moreso because of the movie Cars. They actually had some of the characters from that movie heading up the parade! Sadly, my angle was less-than perfect, but you'll get the idea.
Authentic, eh? Looks just like the real... not real thing.
Sully and Mike from Monsters, Inc.
Lilo and Stitch! The Muppets! (You can't see them)

R2-D2! I got all giddy when he came out.

'Twas a great start of our MGM day, but just wait for the wonders in store! I mean, come on! It's Magic Kingdom, right!?

Asante-sana, squash, banana

2006-11-02T05:12:00.000+01:00

I'll admit it; when i hear that Disney's got a sequel to one of thier animated films, i shudder. Not because i don't like Disney movies. No, it's because they have this tendency to come up with what i consider to be sub-par follow ups. Sometimes they'll introduce non-essential characters (Stich! The movie), other times the franchise stays the same yet the voice actors do not (Aladdin 3). And still, they keep making them. Suckling at the teat of consumer loyalty, are we?
I'm sorry, mom. I don't mean to be negative; I love Aladdin, Lilo & Stitch, The Little Mermaid, The Lion King, and The Emperor's New Groove! I'm just saying all of that to say this: I have the very same skepticism when it comes to Disney Live. It's not that they get terrible actors or that there's an unsubstantial plot, really. It's just the fact that sometimes it doesn't translate very well.

This time, i was completely and utterly wrong.

The Lion King Live at Animal Kingdom was undisputedly amazing. I didn't expect the rush of energy, showmanship and vocal prowess displayed during this half-hour extravaganza of light and sound. Seriously, jeez. It started out with 4 actors in flamboyant garb introducing each other and doing some playful jesting. The guy on our side was huge, in terms of height, and he seemed to recognize my father as he came to shake hands and welcome us. His voice was warm and stately, and his sonorous bass gave girth and power to the medley of the opening songs from The Lion King, it hit me that that first song sounded better in person than it ever had.
i could feel a cool breeze tickling my neck as the sets rolled out and men on stilts danced with equal parts congruency and aplomb.

Even the animatronic Simba, Pumbaa, and Elephant were coreographed better than i expected. Timon, gymnasts, a fire handler, and 15-20 dancers held our interest and attention hostage so well that when the show had ended, i felt it had been much too short.

Leland looking on as Simba wished us an extravagant experience.
The stilt-walkers alone were enough to make me wanna join a rag-tag band of vagrants and lowlifes and start a Lion King company all of my own. So. Much. Fun.