Pull Shapes

I've been going to the Pitchfork website daily since 1998, back when it was called live-wire.com, I think. For all of its faults, it's still my most trusted review source, even though I disagree with the reviews sometimes and it can be predictable (I always try to guess the ranking before clicking on the review. I can get it spot on some of the time, but they also manage to surprise me sometimes (like with this week's Pipettes review)). Therefore, you'd think that something called the Pitchfork Music Festival held approximately six blocks east and fourteen blocks south of my apartment would hold some appeal. Well, you'd be right. The line-up is fantastic. I can't see myself getting there any later than 2 or 2:30 each afternoon, and I will stay until the end both days. God knows what kind of shape I'll be in on Monday. Temps are supposed to be 95 or so, I wonder if I can survive in that sort of environment, though I'm sure I'll see plenty of hipsters wearing sweaters or leggings. I'll be the sweaty dude in shorts and a white tee shirt with "7.9" written on it in magic marker.

You're with me, Weather

Last Tuesday I walked to the train after work, but the doors closed just as I reached the platform. Five minutes later, I was on another train. We moved to the next stop and then the power went out and emergency lights came on. We stood in a now-air conditionless car for about ten minutes, before we received the announcement to empty the train and go up to the street. It turns out the train ahead of us had caught on fire. It was a big enough story to make the BBC news apparently. If I had been ten seconds earlier and been in the thick of it. I'd like to think that I'd help personally escort several pregnant women and elderly people to safety through the thick smoke. But, more likely, I would have wet myself, pushed past the old people, and used a fallen pregnant woman to cushion my jump off of the train, all the while thinking 'I hope this smoke doesn't damage my iPod.'

Syd Barrett was surprisingly well known for someone whose actual music most people have never heard. I'm sure Piper will at least receive a sales bump, which is certainly well-deserved. Everything Pink Floyd did afterwards always seemed brilliant to me, but then I turned 20 and realized most of it was not very good, and regard mostly everything today with dramatic eye-rolling. Dark Side of the Moon has been so overplayed that I don't think I'll ever listen to it again. Anyway, check this neat youtube clip of early P.F. on some BBC TV show, they play after some crusty dude gives a speech on why they aren't any good.

Last Thursday I went out for tapas and sangria at Iberico, ate about 20 different things, including rabbit(!), and drank enough to nearly kill me. The occasion was a farewell dinner for a coworker, who was nice enough to give me the alarm clock/CD player that was on her desk. Right now I'm trying to determine the loudest volume level that I can get away with.

On Saturday I bought an air conditioner. Usually, I can suck it up and get by for a few hot days, but with triple digit temps I finally caved in. It's just for our bedroom, for sleeping. Problem was that the airconditioner was so small that we kind of had to improvise to seal off the window around it. There are now several more openings for more house centipedes and long-horned beetles to come in and crawl up my leg. Welcome, insect-overlords. We didn't actually get the thing installed until Sunday evening. Saturday was spent sitting on the couch, sweating, not touching, watching horrible movies on TV and eating fruit and hummus. Cold showers rule, however.

This weekend, or Thursday, actually, I'm hitting the road back up to the land where ten dollars at a bar can get you hammered. My sister's wedding is on Friday, I probably will refrain from stopping it from happening. My hope is for the temperature to be comfortable, considering the ceremony is outside. Hopefully several FFLs will be around for good times on Saturday, we shall see.

Touche

I guess soccer isn't too boring sometimes. Any sporting event I watch in the next couple months that doesn't involve a ridiculous headbutt is going to be yawn-city.

Today a bunch of people at work were organizing an "MLB Home Run Derby" office pool. It involved eight people picking a random name out of a hat (well, probably not a hat, literally). I did not partake. First off, doing something so random is just ridiculous. It would be like ten people each throwing in five bucks, assigning themselves numbers from one to ten, and then rolling a ten-sided die to determine the winner. Not that I have a ten-sided die, or even know what one is. Secondly, I stupidly did this last year, in an attempt to feel like one of the gang most likely, and I picked Pittsburgh Pirate Jason Bay, who hit the exact same number of home runs that I did in eighth-grade softball (zero).

EDIT: That Zidane link seems to only work sometimes. He is headbutting the Leaning Tower of Pisa back into upright position. It is awesome.

Word Jumble

There's a lot of disorganized things floating around, so I'm going to have to do this bullet point stizz.

- On the 4th I went to a cookout which seemed to be organized by the hostess for the sole purpose of acquiring beer. I was having a music-related conversation with someone. At one point, he said, and I'm paraphrasing here: "So pretty much all during the 1980s, with Reagan in the white house, all the music changed into being all happy and poppy all the time, because there were no problems for anyone to complain about." I wasn't exactly struck speechless. He's still alive by the way, though very badly burnt.

- Our Great National Nightmare is Over! FFL Nate is back from his long hiatus, and promises to update his blog 4 times a week, thanks to my brilliantly-conceived petition. By the way, if you don't know Nate, he is a fine gentleman who looks exactly like a young Donal Logue. It's uncanny.

- In the past week three of my favorite coworkers (and, therefore, three of my best friends in town) are officially on their way out the door. One voluntary, two involuntarily. Plus my 'assistant' is leaving as well, and apparently is not going to be replaced. Did I ever mention how much work sucks before? Well, now it's going to get worse. Are there any record stores in the city who offer 401(k)'s???

- Middle eastern food is great! Let's throw in food from Nepal and India as well. And yes, I know that is a pretty broad area of real estate, but it seems that food from any of these countries can all be combined and mixed up together on one plate, Thanksgiving style. I live within baseball throwing distance from Sultan's Market in the W.P., which is one of my new favorite places in the hood.

- Some people have little pics of albums on the sides of their blogs, or sometimes books or DVDs as well, saying basically 'this is what i'd listening to/reading/watching and you should to, if you fucking know what is good for you, and by the way, I'm so much more cool than you could ever be.' Well, I'm no longer smart enough to accomplish something like that, but I can tell you, olde-fashionede texte stylee:

Listening:
-Lots and lots of deerhoof, especially The Runners Four and Reveille. Even though the former came out last October, I may put it on my best of '06 CD. Yes, it feels wrong, but oh so right.
-The Pipettes. They can't sing and the album is poorly produced, but you can tell by listening that they look cute in polka-dot dresses.
-The new Sonic Youth, obvs. Also every other album of theirs (all 16(?) of them) that I have.
-The Boredoms. Yup, I'm just that hardcore.
-The Beta Band. High Fidelity (the movie) reference aside, The 3 EPs is fucking golden.
-Pavement, Wowee Zowee. Still only my 4th fav pave album, but double-disc reissue coming this year, getting excited. (and, wowee, it looks like amazon is having a cheap pavement sale). By the way, saying this is my 4th favorite pavement album is like saying someone is your 4th favorite child.
-Everything Sleater-Kinney, to mourn their passing.

Watching, via Netflix:
-Walk the Line. Kind of sucked, pretty much EXACTLY what you expect. I do plan on reading J. Cash's autobiography soon, however.
-Manhattan. Haven't seen in ages. Not Annie Hall, but pretty fucking classic.
-Seven Samurai. Best three and a half hour movie I've ever seen?
-Angel, Season One, Disc 1 and 2. Eh? Hopefully it gets better. Though episode 8 did make M cry.
-Hustle and Flow. Better than I expected. Avoided all stereotypes. Recommended.

Reading:
-White Noise, Don DeLillo. Small enough to carry on the train, big enough to blow your mind.
-Gravity's Rainbow, Thomas Pinchon. Haven't started yet, just bought this week at Quimby's.
-The Better of McSweeney's, Vol 1. Just picked this back up today. Very good.

Wow, that was self-indulgent, huh? Let's move on.

- More evidence that I am an alcoholic: I combined Scotch with Coke (I call it CocaMacCola) and it was mostly horrible. But a week later, I had it again. Bad times.

- Last weekend I bought an exercise bike. Assembling it was my exercise for the first week. Rode it today hardcore for the first time: I am incredibly out of shape, despite having to walk everywhere.

- Veronica Mars got robbed by the Emmy noms. But that's what awards do, right? Crush dreams.

- Uh, I don't really have much of a big-time closer. Make up something good in your head.

Look Ma, No Hands

I've watched more soccer during the nearly completed World Cup than my entire previous 27 years combined. That's still not very much, about the same total as any given Sunday during the upcoming futbol americano season (by the way, am I delusional by thinking that the Packers have a decent shot to win their division or what?). Some of this was helped by having several co-workers who were obsessed to the point of boring everyone at lunch for a good month before the thing started. I'm usually in the a) Make goals bigger OR b) Smaller goal, no goalkeeper camp, but that's mostly due to ignorance of the sport. Since I've been baptized in the unsanitary foreign waters of soccer this year, however, I feel qualified to give some more opinions.

Ways to improve World Cup Soccer:

1. No Flopping. For a sport whose most common criticism in this country is "It's too boring," the last thing we need is countless whistles for questionable fouls (we already have the NBA for that, cough, dallaswasrobbed, cough, cough). Red and Yellow cards are so subjective that every one of them can be argued. Only award them when a player kicks another in the groin (Red Card!) or in the face (Yellow!). Eliminate fouls by at least 70%, everything that looks like they're going for the ball should be fine. We've seen far too many Oscar-caliber performances where a dude who's been running around for two hours straight falls down, rolls over three times, then clutches at their chest where their heart should be, but alas, it has been stolen by the opposing player, Temple of Doom style, only with his feet. Then they jump off of the stretcher when they are halfway off the field. These people should be Red Carded, every time. Nothing hurts that much. They should also be kicked in the groin.

2. No Penalty kicks to decide a tie. This is just stupid. Considering that someone being good at shooting/defending penalty kicks is the EXACT same level of skill as someone being good at Rock, Paper, Scissors, this is no way to decide a match of such importance that the losers, if they happen to live in certain South American countries, will likely be murdered in a parking garage a month later. We can keep the 30 minutes of extra time, but after that it is sudden death until someone scores. They do this during the hockey playoffs. So come on soccer, are you really worse than hockey? That is like being worse than syphilis.

3. Improve TV coverage. Sure, I like the fact that unlike all American sports, there are zero commercials or timeouts, but I would appreciate at least some footage of the crowds during these things. You know there is constant fighting and near riots, plus a few shots of hot Brazilian women couldn't hurt. Have you ever seen a Cubs game on TV? It goes like this: a) shot of Cubs pitcher scowling b) Dusty Baker scowling c) fratty Cubs fan scowling d) Hot Girl e) Hot Girl f) Hot Girl g) the pitch f) Hot Girl scowling. I'd much rather look at a hot Swedish soccer fan than another girl who lives in Lincoln Park and drives an SUV.

4. No offsides penalties. This is just stupid on every level.

5a. Make the goals bigger
OR
5b. Smaller goal, no goalie.

Burn, Don't Freeze

Thinking back to my Sonic Youth-inspired post of a couple weeks ago, I wonder what the influence of married couples within bands has to do within longevity. Sonic Youth has one, obviously. So do a couple other long-running bands, Yo La Tengo and Stereolab are the first examples that come to my mind. YLT and Stereolab might be a record or two past their primes (as I thought SY was a few months ago) but they have all had long careers making consistently good albums. Considering that most people, including myself, imagine working with their mate as being too much of a good thing, I kind of find this hard to believe. But it seems to work in the rock and roll sense. I've had a couple old girlfriends who were in bands, and I at the time wanted nothing more than to be on stage and play tambourine in the background.

Speaking of bands, I was crushed two days ago when I heard that Sleater-Kinney had broken up. Though I don't think they've ever reached 'Number One Band of the Moment' status in my head, they've always hovered around the top five to ten. Six great albums, continuous musical growth, a great live show, what more could you want. From the post riot grrl pop of Dig Me Out to the political screeds of One Beat to the epic bombast of last year's The Woods, they have cemented their place in music history. Their second-to-last ever concert is the first day of lollapalooza, I'm debating whether it's worth the 75 or so dollars or whatever for the one day pass, since I'm being forced to miss the next two days. If you haven't heard much of them, or only have heard a few songs from my Best of '02 and '05 CDs, please give them a shot. I know I gave a big speech about how it's better to burn out than fade away, and this seems like the perfect time for S-K to do just that, but it doesn't make it any easier to take.

Speaking of things ending too soon, I've created a petition to bring back naterohan.com. Half my hits were coming from there anyway. Obviously I made a spelling error, it should be 'enlighten' instead of 'enlighted'.

Speaking of spelling, I watched the National Spelling Bee Finals a few weeks ago. Awesome job by everyone; glad the Canadian girl didn't win, though it was very odd when she was whistled for a foul on Dwayne Wade in the last round. I remember back when I was in eighth grade, my last year of spelling bee eligibility. I fucked up in my school's spelling bee. I spelled illustrated as i-l-l-a-s-t-r-a-t-e-d like a fucking idiot. Obviously I wouldn't have made it past the regionals, thanks to one now-married FFL (friend-for-life), but still. I even was a recent subscriber to Sports Illustrated magazine at the time. I choked, plain and simple, but at least I didn't mess up on an easy word like antipyretic. That would have been embarrassing for sure.

In other news: Last weekend the Intonation Festival was great, I never realized that I'd enjoy hip-hop acts live so much, especially in such a non-threatening environment (aka 97% white). Ghostface, Rhymefest, the Streets, and Lupe Fiasco were all awesome. Jon Brion stole the show with his multi-layered solo act, however. I also spent fifty dollars on beers. The weekend before I was in Madison, WI, where the drinks are cheap, and I found out I can still pass as a student with my 1997 student ID, even though I had a worse haircut than at present, if that is possible.

expletive deleted

Some days I bring my "A" game, the world is my oyster and I am king. Today was not one of those days. I don't like to complain, I prefer the silent sulking method.

But:

At lunch today I saw a bunch of people leaving for the day. I was informed that they were all going to the Cubs/Brewers game; sitting in the executive box and entertaining a couple clients. This sort of thing happens once in awhile, I usually resign myself in thinking that I'm not executive-important enough to be invited along.

But:

1. I knew several clients had cancelled, meaning extra tickets were available.
2. The Cubs were playing my #1 favorite baseball squadron, the Milwaukee Brewers, which nearly everyone knows.
3. One of the people invited along was the brand new intern, who a) doesn't care much about baseball b) is here for two months and then never working here or in our entire industry again, and c) has already been taken out for three lunches and now the fucking baseball game despite he's only been here for six days, while yours truly in 17 months has reaped the corporate rewards of exactly two beers and a trip to Ft. Wayne, IN. He's better looking, 5 years younger, and much friendlier than I (obviously), so maybe he deserves it.

I spent the rest of the afternoon in full sulk mode, listening to Bob Uecker over the interweb calling the Brew-Crews 5-4 victory. A brief half-hour milkshake run in the 5th inning as the only exception. I also closed some businessy-type deals that would've made fucking Alec Baldwin circa Glengarry Glen Ross proud.

I went home, decided to get a haircut, just a trim, to make myself presentable for my sister's wedding in a few weeks. I waited a solid 35 minutes, then clearly explained to the hair-cutter-person what I wanted.

But:

Apparently when I said "thin out and texturize the back and sides with a razor-comb" is was interpreted as 'grab a electric shaver and buzz off six inches of hair, but make sure you do enough damage that it's not possible to salvage my dignity by neither keeping the rest long or cutting everything short' . I was left with a cool haircut from perhaps 15 years ago, long all over except the back and sides, except the long hair is long enough to hang over and hide the back and sides, looking semi-normal until the breeze from an air-conditioning vent blows. NO, fuck it, I can't even properly describe it. It looks weird and horrible, especially from the back. Nearly ten months of avoided hair-care professionals, now I know why.

However, I got the haircut for free, since it was so fucking bad. Hooray me!

2 glasses of scotch down, how many left to go?

Confusion is Next

I'm always been an advocate of the theory that it's better to burn out than fade away. The Rolling Stones, Woody Allen, Elvis Costello, Tom Wolfe, David Bowie, R.E.M., Martin Scorsese, U2, Bob Dylan, add some more to the list. All should have quit while they were ahead. That's the reason everyone still loves the Beatles, because we weren't subjected to The Beatles Do Disco! in 1977. The best thing that ever happened to Led Zeppelin was their drummer choking on his own vomit, and they were already pushing the limits. Granted there may be rare exceptions, but most of these are manufactured by fans and the press, i.e. a five-star review of the latest Rolling Stones album.

It's hard to blame the artists, really. They need to make a living. And, unfortunately, their fans, aging rapidly themselves, can never simply walk away. Why would the middle-aged Stones fan spurn A Bigger Bang in order to buy the Arctic Monkey's LP instead? If a Rolling Stones' fan admits that they no longer are able to make a great album (This is something they should have realized in 1973), do they not also realize their own mortality? Not to mention the artists themselves; I'm sure that within six months of the Stones breaking up for good (which won't happen by the way, without a band member's death) that at least two of them will die. Maybe this is the problem, that we can never fully admit that younger people can do it better. I'm at the age now in which every pro athlete in the first 5 years of their career is younger than I, which is kind of a hard fact to accept. As a teenager, I could always look at the athletes, and musicians and filmmakers and authors for that matter, and think, wow, maybe in a few years I'll be able to do something like that. As time went on, it was more "Wow, he directed his first feature at 23, I only have two years left." Now, it's: "Damn, I need to buy more nacho cheese, I'm out again."

Anyway, I'll admit that this theory can be clouded by the fact that we are always searching for the next big thing (and by 'we' I mean people who haven't simply given up on new music/literature/art and have chosen a closed-off existence in 1991 or 1987 or 1968 or whenever), and originality is often confused with greatness. Likewise, artists who change with the times are often accused of pandering (which no doubt is sometimes the case) with electronic blips and freshly frosted tips.

But let's go back to music, can you think of any band or artist which released their best album more than ten years after they started? The only clear example I'm sure of is The Flaming Lips' The Soft Bulletin (released in 1999, a solid 15 years after their inception), otherwise I'm at a loss. There are some that come right at the cutoff mark, but nothing definitive. The pursuit of greatness is something that cannot be sustained over a long time period, but is too appealing to stop trying.

The reason I've been thinking about all this lately is that the new Sonic Youth album is fucking great. Probably not 'their best album ever' great, but great nonetheless. It's called Rather Ripped and will be in stores on Tuesday. Am I just being naive? Am I as bad as the people I've described above? Sonic Youth always seemed on a different level than most bands, because even though they were never famous (except for a brief semi-famous period in the early-to-mid 90s (they were on an episode of the Simpsons after all: Thurston Moore: Aw, come on, Mr. Frampton. You're not gonna eat all that watermelon.)), but they always managed to pay the mortgage and avoid the factors that could break up a band or cause it to pander. Between the summers of 1998 and 1999 I bought every album they had released up to that point. Enjoyed all of them, some more than others, agreed with most critics that their mid to late 80s run was their peak. The 90s stuff was good, but there were always certain songs that never quite clicked. And, of course, they were never great singers or lyricists. But they continued to self-release experimental EPs and hold captive a devoted fanbase. I continued to buy their new records. NYC Ghosts + Flowers was mostly bad, and I was prepared to put them out to pasture, but they critically rebounded with their next two albums, which perhaps top anything they put out in the decade prior. This alone is cause for alarm. And the new album, it's nothing different except a bit catchier, perhaps their last offering of relatively mainstream fare (coinciding with the last album on their major label record contract) before they firmly shut the door on the masses that never accepted them. But the band members' ages are, as of today, 53, 50, 47, and 43. My parents are 54 and 52. This is old. Can you think of any 50-year-olds you wouldn't mind hanging out with, not to mention any who you would feel self-consciously uncool around?

Like I said, perhaps I'm just being naive here. But maybe Sonic Youth found magic alien pods in their swimming pool. Maybe they alone have the secret, or maybe just have been lucky. I'm not sure, but it doesn't seem natural.

A Cinderella Story...

Just finished watching Jim Jarmusch's Broken Flowers, starring Bill Murray. Good movie, I was very proud to hear one of my favorite songs, "There is an End," by The Greenhornes ft. Holly Golightly on vocals, used in both the beginning and end credits.

Near the end of the movie, Bill Murray runs. He runs about 40 yards or so, maybe less. Bill Murray, 55 years old, who in his recent resurgence, from Rushmore to Lost in Translation to The Life Aquatic to now, has always played a morose static figure who can only wistfully think about his life gone by so quickly.

Bill Murray can run faster than me. I can't even walk from the train station to my office without my knee giving out at least once.

We need a moat. A moat of fire... filled with fire-proof crocodiles

As a simple man (IQ of 73) who enjoys simple pleasures (bourbon on the rocks, loud music, post-modern art, potato chips), it doesn't take much for me to have a relaxing weekend. But usually I end up trudging to work Monday morning feeling that I left certain exciting stones unturned, that the two hours I spent playing RBI Baseball on my computer wasn't the best use of free time. Well, this past weekend wasn't like that. Here's a summary:

Friday night: ran to the store for groceries, then made satisfactory tuna steaks for dinner. Went with a friend to see Tapes 'n Tapes w/Cold War Kids (verdict = meh) at the Abbey, had a few beers afterwards, took train home, ate potato chips and watched the second half of Annie Hall.

Saturday morning: got up relatively early and took a bus to go to the Choke Garage Sale. Spent exactly $5 to buy about 25 CDs and 10 7"s. I've heard of about five of these (Marble Valley, anyone?) but the rest were choosen based on band name or album cover. Lots of punk rock, I think, but I haven't listened to any yet, since I've also bought 7 other CDs (that I've heard of) in the past week.

Then: dropped off bag of records at home and took train downtown to Printer's Row Book Fair. Caught Dave Eggers. Returned home.

Afternoon: ate pizza, watched Cubs/Cardinals, read on the porch, slightly dozed off while listening to music.

Evening: met coworker for drinks in the neighborhood, watched basketball game, out until 1 (including being at a place with a "Rescue 911" pinball machine), then home for an alcohol-soaking meal of stove top stuffing and Super Mario Bros 3.

Sunday: took train/bus to Hyde Park to meet M (who has been working all weekend), went to 57th street art fair, left with a new painting. Then the rest of the day I did nothing, and went to sleep before 11 for the first time in a month. If that's not excitement, I don't know what is.

Next weekend will hopefully be even better, as out of town guests will be here to amuse me. I'll try to get all my sleeping in during the week.

An Inconvenient Truth... that it is fucking hot today

About five minutes ago I was sitting at the computer, surfing the web idly and listening my yahoo radio station, when I heard a loud 'bang.' I thought to myself, "Gee, that nearly sounded like a gunshot." A minute or so later I heard a similar noise, repeated a few times. I walked into the living room and asked M what it was. Then we started hearing it in rapid succession, and it sounded like it was coming from somewhere close. Ten seconds later I looked to find both M and I on our belly's lying on the wooden living room floor. I heard our upstairs neighbors' footsteps scampering around. Only when I heard the sizzle of an exploding roman candle did I realize that fireworks were being set off, instead of being a close witness to a Wicker Park drive-by.

My parents visited this weekend, Saturday to Sunday, bringing us a futon suitable for inebriated guests and helped us hang pictures on our cardboard-plaster walls. We walked around my new neighborhood and downtown, ate pizza and drank micro-brews, took squinty-eyed pictures of each other. Today we went downtown and to Navy Pier, my parents took pictures of various buildings, most noticeably the Chicago Theater, whose impressive sign caught their attention. What didn't seem to catch their attention was the fact that the Chicago Theater marquee was welcoming "International Mr. Leather 2006."

What a horrible weekend to be hosting such an event, temps in the 90s today. By the way, if anyone googling 'international mr. leather 2006' winds up on this webpage, welcome!

Up to Speed

Our new apartment is so big that I've established an unenforceable rule that says that one person can't yell across the apartment to the other person, since there's no way to hear each other. If I want to, say, make nachos and watch basketball (on network TV only, natch), I have to prepare everything in the kitchen and then take everything about fifty feet away to the living room. By the time I've reached my destination, the cheese temperature is unsatisfyingly low. Despite the vast expanse of the place, every footstep on the sagging hardwood floors produces tremendous noise. The noises seem to be louder at 6:30 am, when I'm trying to sleep. There are ants, little black ones, in the bathroom. We have used an entire bottle of ant-killer spray and 8 mini-ant-traps, but still find at least a couple ants per day. This doesn't bother me in the slightest, as these ants rank nearest the bottom of the giant list of hated insects.

The move went OK, except for the fact that my bike got stolen during. The movers left it in the back alley of my old place before loading it onto the truck, and shockingly someone decided that they would like an old but dependable Trek bicycle. Worse was the fact that the movers disavowed themselves of any responsibility, and even charged me for the 45 minutes they spent 'looking' for the bike and yelling at my old building manager. Repeated phone calls to management produced a similar response. So, if you live in Chicago and are looking for a moving service, God have mercy on your pathetic soul if you go with "The Professionals - Moving and Storage", thepromove.com.

The fact that I now live closer to the loop is tarnished by the fact that my commute actually takes longer, thanks to trains that are so crowded I consider myself lucky if I can squeeze into the first one that comes along, which I've managed to do about 55% of the time so far. Plus I have to walk further to the train and to my office. Only good thing is now I have an easy way home at 3 am on a Saturday morning.

The week after moving we went to New York for four days. Much better than the last time around, lots of late nights and drinking and expensive food. Finally got to go to MoMA as well, which was even better than I had hoped. Jennifer Bartlett's "Rhapsody" was the greatest thing ever.

Last weekend was our first relaxing one in about a month, I went to see Saturday Looks Good to Me play on Friday, alone since M was 'tired.' I'm shocked that they don't draw a bigger crowd, there was probably only 35 people there, if that, which is sad considering that in the four bands who played there was about 17 people combined. Usually after I've seen a band live a few times I start complaining about how every show is now selling out and all these new fans weren't there from the beginning like I was. I'm not sure what is wrong with everybody. But I ended up having a great time, bought a couple LPs and had a few drinks with some complete strangers, none of whose names I can recall. My Saturday was crushed by my resulting hangover. No regrets, however.

Abraham Lincoln Delivering a Pizza in a Hurricane

This week is MOVING WEEK, and today will be the first day going to the new place, with a carload of crap. M compares today with Christmas, but I instead compare it to the time when we rushed around and got unnecessarily stressed out and had a fistfight. We've packed a bunch of stuff, but there is a lot more to go, none of which is mine. But as long as there is no rain this Saturday, and our new place isn't covered with cockroaches, I'll be cool. I've been spending my time trying to find a place to watch sports in the new 'hood; it appears that all my searches combining 'sports bar' and 'wicker park' have returned no results. Most likely I'll be stuck somewhere staring at a totally retro 13 inch black and white screen while sipping a $12 apple-tini and listening to Japanese techno spun by someone whose DJ-moniker is a sex or violence inspired verb.

Cable will not be installed at the new place until (at least) football season, if at all. M is crushed, due to the 27 hours of Home and Garden TV she's been watching a week, especially since it's difficult to find copies of Househunters on YouTube. I, on the other hand, am excited about our return to the rabbit ears, I can imagine a summer filled with late-night walks and actual socializing, of reading a book a week and purifying my mind with actual knowledge. I may also get NetFlix or something.

Aside from baseball highlights (my first ever fantasy baseball team is off to a great start. Granted, it's in a public Yahoo league, but I've always been very self-conscious about my baseball know-how (I didn't know what WHIP meant until recently). But through some impatient competitors and some savvy waiver-wire pickups, my team is stacked with the likes of Berkman, Manny, Andruw Jones, Jason Bay, Giambi, Mauer, Schilling, R. Johnson, Ben Sheets, Chris Capuano, Tom Gordon, and Coco Crisp.) , there's only a few things I'm going to miss on cable before football season:

1. The Colbert Report - I gave mild props to this show awhile back, but lately it is can't-miss. I've even been skipping the Daily Show and not turning on the TV until 10:30 lately. He has worked the early kinks out of his character and the show's format, wielding his masterful use of irony like, uh, Chow Yun Fat in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon did with that weird green sword. Anyway, it's brutally funny, and the strange thing is that idiots seem to enjoy the program too, since they believe he's being sincere. So it's got something for everyone. Colbert actually was the keynote speaker at last weekend's White House Correspondent's Dinner, and said the following while sitting ten feet away from the President:

"I stand by this man. I stand by this man because he stands for things. Not only for things, he stands on things. Things like aircraft carriers and rubble and recently flooded city squares. And that sends a strong message, that no matter what happens to America, she will always rebound -- with the most powerfully staged photo ops in the world."

You can read the entire speech here. For an event which is traditionally filled with gentle Leno-esque lobs and chuckles, there was no punches pulled, and that took some huge balls.

2. Wonder Showzen - Though the new episodes aren't as great as the first season's, this show remains one of the most disturbing things on television. Picture Sesame Street, except with the puppets getting sex change operations and harassing homeless people on the street, plus small children reporters asking stockbrokers "When the revolution comes, where will you hide?" and other questions. M says the show gives her nightmares, it's just that good. Lots of clips on YouTube.

Uh, well, a list of two things isn't much of a list. Just missing the cut: Pardon the Interruption, South Park (non Oprah's talking vagina episodes only), and the Real World. I pray to God my TV reception is good enough to watch the season finale of Veronica Mars next week.

Last weekend I watched about 15 of the 17 televised hours of the NFL draft, something I haven't been able to do for a number of years. It was great, save for the ESPN personalities and their various quirks. I don't know if you are regulars on the great sports blog Deadspin.com, but you will never look at Chris Berman's face again the same way if you read this, and then this, this, this, and this. Disturbing, yes, but a great new catchphrase = priceless.

I got an email last Friday saying I've been awarded two tickets to the Friday May 12th taping of Late Night with Conan in Chicago. I'll be in New York, but if anyone wants to pretend to be me for a day (and fulfill your greatest fantasy) I'd be happy to give you the email. I'm not sure how they're going to be checking people, it sounds more like it's going to be first come/first served anyway.

I went to see the "Comedians of Comedy" tour last Friday, featuring the stand-up comedy of Patton Oswalt, Eugene Mirman, Brian Posehn, and Maria Bamford. It was great; I've never been to any sort of comedy show in which I've actually laughed before. And I laughed a lot. That is all.

High Expectations

Some things are great, some things suck, but some things should be great and end up sucking hard, which is perhaps the greatest crime of all. Here is a short list:

1. Love Monkey - This is the name of the unfortunately-titled CBS dramedy which was cancelled after three aired episodes. I was pretty stoked about this, given the following info: Starring Tom Cavanagh (from "Ed"), about a indie record company executive who has crazy adventures with women, though his obviously true love is one of his close friends. Going in, I imagined this as a sort of "High Fidelity" as a running series, which would be fucking awesome. At the very least, I figured the record company setting would provide references to Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and Madvillain that would distract me from any plot mistakes, plus T.C. is undeniably likable. But, WOW, what a fucking mess. Any possible hipster music references were replaced with jarring errors ("Hey, this two-disc 'Essential Bob Dylan' contains every song he ever recorded") and the fact that we are supposed to buy guest-star (and John mutherfucking Mayer wannabe Teddy Geiger (as 'Wayne') as the next big musical thing. It seems like a bunch of square 40 year olds were attempting to be as cool as possible. To make a long story short, watching the first three episodes made me blush with embarrassment. In fact, this show inspired this entire blog post, and the term 'love monkey' is now being used as an adjective to describe something that has greatly failed expectations.

2. The Raconteurs - Another total love monkey is the collaboration between Jack White, Brendan Benson, and the rhythm section from the Greenhornes, which should have been the greatest band ever. Their first album doesn't come out until next month, but I've heard it a few times, and while there are a few good moments (haven't ruled it out for best of 2K6 yet), it certainly isn't anything worth writing home about. Perhaps if I was a bit older I would have remembered the Traveling Wilburys.

3. R.E.M.'s Up - In 1997, my favorite band lost their drummer to retirement, which is always a bad sign, but expectations didn't wane. A year later, they came out with their 11th album, which I listened to religiously and convinced myself it was great. It was only after seeing the tour that I realized it was mostly bad, and the declination in musical quality caused a re-evaluation of my entire spiritual belief system, and upped the presence of my fear of aging.

Note:

Dead to me:Those who've been invited to the HI-COOL blog but haven't contributed. You guys are f'ing assholes. Seriously.

Listen, lady, put the phone down

In slightly over a month, we're moving. Just across town, for no real reason. There are certain thing about Hyde Park I'm going to miss: DOC Films, Dixie Kitchen, being two blocks from the lake, a few people who I should see more often, and the free exercise area on the top floor of my building that I haven't used in nine months. The new place is, well, less than three blocks away from the fictional Championship Vinyl, in a neighborhood that gets a lot of press. Hopefully it will be an easy move and a good place to live, the apartment features a front sunporch, dishwasher, built in bookshelves, a huge kitchen, hardwood floors, and four multi-purpose rooms. A step downward in terms of quality from the ivory tower in which we currently reside, and we made a rather spontaneous judgment, so fingers crossed for no stories of shockingly cold water, formidable insects, random power outages, unbearably hot summers, unbearably noisy nearby trains, severe lack of closet space, and repeated home invasions. We shall see.

One positive that will arise from our new location is proximity to several live music venues, which will mean many opportunities for getting into trouble. Now going to concerts requires much planning. I'm seeing the Mates of State w/ Saturday Looks Good To Me on 4/6, which should be great, and then The Silver Jews on 4/14.

Ironic: I'm going to New York for four days the second week in May, which is the week Conan O'Brien is doing his show from Chicago, which I probably am not lucky enough to get tickets for.

Speaking of concerts, the B&S/NPs show a few weeks ago was one of the best concerts I've ever seen/heard. Maybe it that I'm used to small horrible-sounding club shows and crowded horribly sounding outdoor festivals, but the sound at the Riverside Theater in Milwaukee was the best I've ever heard, and both bands were on the top of their games. I was won over by Belle big time, going in with moderate expectations only, but they managed to play their best material and elevate their filler to excellent status. The Pornographers had to rush through their set, but had a couple of four part harmony moments that gave me chills (Testament to Youth in Verse was an unexpected highlight).

The Hi-Cool Blog is officially up and running, see link to the right.

Heat + Crowds + Music + Allergies = Awesome

Living in a major metropolitan area sometimes has its perks. Last year I made my first-and-second-ever appearances at real live music festivals, and had a pretty good time. This year the bands playing are even better, so it figures to be great. Here's some highlights, most of these lineups are only half-complete however, so more goodness to be added.

Pitchfork Music Festival (July 29-30) Two day pass = $30
Spoon
Yo La Tengo
Silver Jews
Ted Leo/Rx
The National
The Mountain Goats
Mission of Burma
*I already have tickets for this one. I've seen/will have seen (SJs) most of these bands already, and none are disappointing live. Plus the price is crazy delicious.

Intonation Music Festival (June 24-25) Two day pass = $35
The Streets
Bloc Party
Annie
Jon Brion
Boredoms
*This one I'm not so sure about. I'll probably need some more names added before I can get tickets. Not sure how The Streets would be live, not sure how Jon Brion will be outdoors, not sure if I like Bloc Party at all.

Lollapalooza (August 4-6) Three day pass = $145 plus shipping
Kanye West
Sonic Youth
Flaming Lips
New Pornographers
Sleater-Kinney
The Raconteurs
Mates of State
Death Cab for Cutie
The Shins
Wilco
Eels
Blackalicious
Ryan Adams
Common
Of Montreal
The Hold Steady
The Frames
The Go! Team
The Red Hot Chili Peppers are headlining too, but who cares?
*This lineup is terrific, plus rumors of Beck, Strokes, Built to Spill. Lolla last year was good but only had a few highlights (Arcade Fire, Black Keys, Kaiser Chiefs). This year it expands to 3 days (meaning a Friday off work?) and price is a little steep. I'm debating it now, but final decision may hinge on if Sonic Youth/The Flaming lips, who are touring together, play another show in Chicago. Considering that for the same price I could go to 7-8 shows where bands are not subjected to 50 minute sets and an apathetic crowd instead, I'll have to think about this.

That said, if I actually have friends interested in going to any of these, it would be a lot easier to warrant throwing down $. I usually have no problem going to shows solo, but when it's outside and I'm drinking only water even I can sometimes start to feel lame. Seriously, even me. For real. So let me know if anyone is interested in a weekend vacation.

Hi-Cool

Attention Everyone: I'm creating a new blog called 'hi-cool', whose posts will only consist of haikus, in the traditional 5-7-5 syllable format, any subject is fine. I'd like to invite any of you reading this to become contributing member of the site. If I get six people to write one tiny little haiku a week, we'd have a lot to look at. It's all about quantity, not quality, obvs.

If anyone is interested, or mildly interested, or just bored, please send me an email at scentralrain AT yahoo DOT COM. I haven't written a poem since it was required by school, so this should be interesting. The more the merrier.

The End of Medicine

Tomorrow I'm forgoing any top o' the morning green beer drinking to go to Milwaukee and see the most anticipated concert since... hmm... in terms of a double bill I can't think of much that competes with it, save for Sleater-Kinney/White Stripes in 2000, but since I hadn't heard of the WS's before then I can't say it was 'most anticipated.' Maybe R.E.M./Wilco the year before? Beulah/Mates of State? Detroit Cobras/Greenhornes? Mates of State/SLGTM (a combo I'll see again next month)? Nevertheless, Belle & Sebastian/The New motherfucking Pornographers is going to be pretty sweet, though I wished the NPs played last instead of first. Nothing against B&S, M and I have all of their albums between us, their new one is their best in 10 years, and the great B-side 'Your Cover's Blown' made my Best of 2004, but the NPs seem much more suited to rocking the house live. I've seen them before, in 2001, when they had one album under their belt, playing at the Annex in Madison with the incomparable Neko Case (don't click if you're at work!) in tow, terrific show, they even played "My Slow Descent into Alcoholism" twice for some bizarre reason. Tomorrow they'll be sans-Neko but no less awesome, I'm hoping.

I'm taking next Friday off of work to sit on my couch and watch basketball all day long.

It's been over six months since I've gotten a haircut, my little way of sticking it to the man.

Happy 6 months anniversary to M/Andy. Though the term '6 mo.s anniversary' doesn't really make sense.

Yesterday I wore a tie to work and had some meetings with important people. I'm not sure if I dazzled, but I did stay awake the entire time.

NCAA basketball tournament preview to come.

Props, Vol. 3

"Props!" is a reoccuring feature on this site that will basically consist of a short list of things that are cool, things that are awesome, things that are recommended, and things that rule. I, therefore, will be giving mad "props" to everything on the list. You can read the first installment here, and the second here. I can't believe I haven't done this since August. I'm really not that busy, I just need encouragement.

1. The Unicorns "Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?" This album made my best of 2K3, but I stupidly forgot to include on my over-hyped Top 100 list awhile back. The 'band', which I believe was two 19-yr-old Canadian kids at the time, is now broken up, but it's much better to burn out than blah blah blah. Piccolo solos and exuberant pop music without any choruses or repetition at all. Takes awhile to love (about 2.5 years for me). Dave Eggers once wrote that it's helpful to imagine the band as made entirely of candy. Listen to 2 songs and read more and then buy here.

2. The Microphones "The Glow Pt. 2" Speaking of growers, I've been listening to the microphones since 2000's It was hot, we stayed in the water, but despite my best efforts could never fully appreciate them. This album I've had on my iPod for months, and it took a few listens on headphones before I got it. Got the CD a few weeks ago, finally, and it's even better, good for nights you can't sleep or days when it's too cold to go outside. Acousticky strums, sudden walls of noise, faint tugboat recordings, murmured offkey vocals, sound that creeps into your head and never leaves. In a good way. All analog recording style, feels warm and comforting, somehow, improves upon each listen. See more and purchase at the K records site here.

3. SportsNight Aaron Sorkin's first series was something I barely noticed when it was on, but was one of my first DVD discoveries, and remains one of my favorite TV programs ever, and possibly best half-hour show. I rushed through the box set in a couple weeks, me and my roommate at the time pretended that all our conversations were written by A.S. for weeks afterwards. Such as:
N: Did you do the dishes?
K: The dishes?
N: Yes, the dishes. Did you do them?
K: Yes, I did the dishes.
N: Are you sure?
K: Yes, I did the dishes.
N: Seriously?
K: Yes, washed and dried.
N: OK, because usually you don't do the dishes.
K: I did the dishes. Except there's just one thing...
N: What's that?
K: I didn't do the the dishes.
As you can tell, it was HILARIOUS! I've probably cruised through the 45 episodes about 4 times since then, each no less rewarding. Buy it on DVD here. Sorkin has a brand new series on NBC this fall, called Studio 60 . Sure to be best evah!

4. Energy drinks + Alcohol. Please treat this one responsibly, aka when you can afford to stay awake until 4 a.m. I'm a pretty quiet person, and shy around new people. Therefore, I tend to appreciate the times when I am neither of these things. For some reason, other people tend to feel the same way. When I was single and looking: 50% of the time it worked 100% of the time.

5. Are You the Favorite Person of Anybody? This is a short film directed by Miguel Arteta (The Good Girl and Chuck and Buck) and written by Miranda July (Me and You and Everyone We Know), starring John C. Reilly, MJ, and others. As far as I know, the only place you can see it is on No. 1 of McSweeney's new DVD quarterly called Wholphin, which you can find for free in the latest issue of McSwy's or the Dec/Jan issue of their magazine The Believer. (The DVD also contains a Spike Jonze documentary on Al Gore circa 2000, and part of the David O. Russell doc on the latest mess in Iraq.) Check your nearby independent bookstore or go to their website. Anyway, this film is short, sweet, and is nearly exactly what you'd expect upon hearing the title. It prompted much daydreaming for me. Though I like to complain, I can gladly say the answer is "Yes". There haven't been many times in my life when that was the case.