Snow. Please. People down here don’t know what snow is.
I can’t believe school was closed yesterday. The insanity continues.
GET OUT AND BUY YOUR 37 ROLLS OF TOILET PAPER CAUSE THE WORLD IS GOING TO END IN A REIGN OF WHITE FLUFFY STUFF.
Ugh.
I guess paranoia, too, is relative.
I have been rambling around reading lots of blogs. So many blogs.
I have one continuous thought.
Where in the hell do these people get the time to do all this blogging?
I haven’t updated this thing in at least a month, and it’s not beacuse I haven’t had anything to say – I simply haven’t had a free minute. I think these people must revolve completely around their blog and/or their online community.
Can this be good? Forsaking the actual human interaction of the day to day outside world for the virtual (albiet at times, much more stimulating) interaction of the online community?
Will we a some point become communities where our ‘neighbours’ are 1,000 miles away and that guy that lives across the street is a stranger? Or a weirdo. Maybe he’s a weirdo just because I don’t know him. Or because he leaves his house.
Weirdo.
Few people would ever label me a ‘people person’. If they did, they’d have mistaken me for someone else. If I had my way I’d probably be living in a cave somewheres and I’d only talk to you when I wanted to.
I just wonder where all this is going. And where all these people get all this time. And energy. Perhaps it’s caffiene or some other illicit drugs. Perhaps it’s Mountain Dew Code Red.
I feel bad neglecting my blog when apparently everyone else has tons of time to customize and post to theirs. Maybe I should work on it. Perhaps I am breeching ‘blog ettiquette’ by letting my blog fall by the wayside. Perhaps I should be ‘virtually cast out and stoned’ by the blogging community.
Flame me if you must.
Maybe I don’t have much interesting to write about.
I rode my bike to work today. It was cold. 31 degrees F. Not cold by my former climates’ standards but cold nonetheless. Cold enough to garner strange looks from the people trapped in their cars as I passed. Funny thing about riding your bike when it’s this cold, I have a bike with a whole bunch of gears, but you pretty much have to find the one you like within the first 5 minutes of leaving you house, because after that the drivetrain ceases to function and you’re stuck with the gear you’ve got. To say I am eagerly anticipating warm weather would be an understatement.
That’s about all for now. I hope to try and start getting pictures up here to accompany my blog, as soon as I figure out where to host them from. Anyone out there host their photos from their iDisk? Does it work?
I’ll try to update more often, really I will, but I don’t think it will matter soon, as the way things are looking we will soon be discussing the U.S. occupation of Iran. Some folks never learn.
Way back when – I don’t remember exactly when – I was in the greatest band you’ve never heard of. It was myself on drums and my friend Andy on guitar/vocals. We were tight. We never really played anywhere though. We had a real problem with bass players. They never worked out. I think we tried out 4 or 5, then just decided it was pointless. We were destined for greatness anyway, what did we need a bass player for? We figured once we hit the big time, session players would be drooling for the gig. Due to disagreements with our label (the one we didn’t have) unfortunately, most of our recordings never saw the light of day. There may still be a cassette of stuff on the floor of Andy’s car though. And I think Lappo has about 15 minutes of video from a practice session – sure to soon fetch a hefty sum on ebay. Watch for it on exclusive download soon via Pitchfork. We had the suits clamoring to sign us. They were calling us the ‘new grunge’, only without the flannel, angst ridden lyrics, and drug addictions. Oh yeah – and they’re not from the Pacific Northwest.
Anyhow. I’m not bitter. We had our shot [though I’m not sure when or where that was] and we planned our strategies for world domination while drinking Heinikens in a parking garage next to the Bayou before going to see the Spin Doctors for the 7th time. I know what you are thinking – but the Spin Doctors were quite possibly one of the greatest jam bands that there ever was. To see them live was awesome, it was only once they tried to make records that things got watered down and lame. If you ever crammed in with a bunch of sweaty folk to groove and watch Chris Baron pull some funky shoes out of the prop chest he kept on stage and then put them on and dance around wielding a pirate’s sabre, while the rest of the band went off, you’d give me an ‘amen’.
Alas, these times are in the past. As is the Arrosox. That was the name of our ground-breaking band. Andy thought of it. To this day, I have no idea where it came from, but after he came to me with the music and lyrics to ‘Titty-Bar’, I learned never to question his musical genius.
Now we are humdrum dads. He and me. We exchange drywalling and home improvement tips via the phone and haven’t played together in years. As I write this I don’t even own a drumkit [something I’d like to remedy, email me to donate to the fund].
So he’s got a blog now too, ’cause that’s what us kids do now, we blog. In his usual self-depreciating style, he opened it by stating that he firmly believes that no one will ever read it. The irony is that if he really thought that, there’s no need to state it. Uh, I think I’ve confused myself. He mentioned putting me on as a ‘guest columnist’ to contribute – something I look forward to – but having read his most recent post, I think that he will do just fine with or without me. Kudos to Andy for writing an informative and well thought out piece and bringing something to my attention that I had no idea about – and that’s not easy to do in the world of 24 hour news feeds these days. I highly suggest you check it out.
Later y’all.
