Some random stuff to share here, and I don’t even know where to start.  In no particular order…

It appears, friends, that I spoke too soon.  You may recall a couple months back the elation I expressed at I hearing that Boudin’s butternut squash soup was to become a regular weekly event.  Well I’m here to tell ya… be careful what you wish for.  You see, in my constant proselytizing for the delicious soup, I failed to think through the possible consequences.  For the past few weeks, I’ve faithfully gone to the local Boudin for my mid-week lunch ritual only to find that they had already run out of butternut squash soup for the day.  The message about b-squash got out all right, and now it’s come back to bite me!  Once I could see as a fluke.  But several weeks in a row now?  That’s a trend.  In fact, that’s a deeply disturbing trend.  And it simply won’t do.

Missed Opportunity Of The Day:  I was thinking about that infamous and hideous bust from Lionel Richie’s “Hello” video (see below), and it occurred to me that the legions of ridiculous Mission hipsters would gladly give their most prized pair of vintage L.A. Gear for this most iconic and ironic of sculptures.  Somebody ought to market reproductions of that bust.  Hell, make it a Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia!  (Incidentally, the fate of the actual bust — which I suspect would go for a pretty penny on eBay — is recounted here.)

In other music news, you need to check this out.  Coming to you by way of Paul, it’s The Swinger.  This is some code that someone put together that takes and existing song and puts it in swing time.  It’s hard to explain, just check out the link.  Slick!

H.P. Lovecraft was a dadgum genius.  I wish there was something I could do to make him more famous than he already is.  I just finished “The Case Of Charles Dexter Ward,” one of the most entertaining stories I’ve read in ages.  And it’s just the latest of several of his short stories that are knocking my socks off.  I don’t know what it is, but this guy’s got my number.  I’ve picked up several more volumes of his stuff, waiting to be read over the summer!

Finally, I’ve found myself on another kick of trying to organize my massive “to do” list.  There are a lot of reasons for why that might be.  For one, I actually have made good progress on it, and I dare say I can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel (in terms of organizing the list not completing it).  I’ve been giving more thought to why I even have this list.  Do I really have any serious hope of somehow finishing it all before I die?  I recently read a quote that was something like, “when you die, your inbox won’t be empty.”  That’s a pretty powerful truth to accept.  And yet, I still feel somewhat powerless to let my list go.  I’m maintaining this thing, and for what?  In trying to reassess its contents, I realize that a lot of it is just clever little tidbits that I’ve saved for some unknown reason.  What would I do with all these clever little things?  Write a novel?  A screenplay?  Five albums worth of songs?  Would I somehow memorize them all and have them ready to fire off in conversation at just the right moment?  Maybe.  But I think more likely there’s just some switch in me that causes me to hoard ideas the way those people on T.V. hoard trash in their living rooms.  Something in me can’t accept that these things are just momentarily valuable and then should be let go.  How do I let them go?  🙁

The quote of the week comes from one such saved snippet from some conversation I had with a friend long ago.  I thought it was clever, so I saved it.  Now I’m going to let it go, remove it from my “to do” list, and try to accept that this blog is where it was meant to live forever.  Enjoy.

Friend:  “Nice, where’d you meet her?”
Benjamin:  “Meet her?  Dude, look at her!  Me and Anthony Michael Hall made her in my bedroom.”

So for whatever reason, I got the sudden urge to clean out my closet and get rid of all the stuff that I don’t wear anymore.  Of course I wasn’t hoping to get any money out of it — I don’t wear those kinds of clothes.  But I figured if I can prevent it from going to waste and maybe gain back some of my apartment real estate in the process, everybody wins.

Well today I had at it, and I’m left pissed at all the clothes I piled up.  Sure, there were plenty of old t-shirts and shabby clothes that aren’t much good to anyone who isn’t desperate purely to keep warm.  But there were also loads of perfectly good quality bowling shirts that I used to think were so stylish.  See, back in the early and mid 2000’s, I was all into the clothes of Daddy-O’s.  Girls love the dresses there, but I was all about the bowling shirts.  I can’t knock the quality, because they really make good stuff.  But these days, those things look less rockabilly to me and more… I don’t know… douchey Vegas?  That’s not an across the board indictment, because certainly some guys can still pull it off.  It looks more appropriate on older men, I’d say.  Anyway, my point is that those things aren’t cheap, and so I’m looking at hundreds of my old consulting dollars down the drain.

I am not dumping any of my Hawaiian shirts though, because I have every intention of bringing back the Hawaiian shirt this summer.  You have been warned.

In my digging, I was surprised to find my beloved and practically unused powder blue suede shoes, as well as my real saddle shoes back before you could buy them at Hot Topic.  I came across (and kept) some sweaters and sweater shirts, several PeopleSoft shirts, a few holy skater shirts from middle school.  I had forgotten I even had a t-shirt from Shotgun Willie’s strip club in Denver.  (That’s a consultant story I’ll share in redacted form someday.)  And horror of horrors, I even found some silk boxers!  I had chosen to forget I ever used to wear silk boxers.  And the last remaining proof goes in the garbage tonight.

In fairness, I did unearth some other unnamable corruptions in the back of my closet.  I don’t know if the Dragonfly shirt company is still around, but they should be charged with crimes against humanity for some of the blasphemous garments they supplied to my wardrobe.  Plus, was I like… a raver at one point?  I have all these trippy millennium-era club shirts.  Black and white swirly patterns and weird shimmery materials.  Blanket apology to any woman who had to be seen with me in them.  I almost hesitate to give them to Goodwill, as passing on these dark testaments to the lower bounds of fashion is surely no show of any “good will.”

Now you may be thinking to yourself, “where are the pics?  I want to see these unspeakable things!”  No, you don’t.  Believe me.  You think it will enrich your life, but you are mistaken.

So long black Nike swim trunks with the giant white “swoosh” across the butt.  Goodbye hideous plush polo shirts I used to wear when I started consulting.  Au revoir countless pairs of semi-worn black slacks that span my career from working in a pool store to last year.  Sayonara black satin club/bowling shirt monstrosities.  Adios polo shirts with a stripe across the chest that I used to sport every day in place of the t-shirts I wear now.  Ciao endless piles of white t-shirts that I kept for who knows what reason.  No, I didn’t have to get rid of you today, but you’ve been going to waste in my closet for the last decade.  And the momentary fond memories of 1997-2005 that you brought back to me during this exercise is your final act.

Listening to: Robert Gordon – “Are You Gonna Be The One“

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Well kiddies, I survived the trip to Chicago/Milwaukee with virtually no problems.  Despite all the little things that went wrong along the way, the overall trip was fun and well worth it.  Not to mention the added bonus of expanding my (mentally) allowable travel range a little further than before.  Another step on the path, you know.  I had a non-stop out there, a layover on the way back.  Different airlines, different jet models.  The little puddle jumper was not as stressful as I thought, and I’m a new fan of that big Boeing 777.  So big you can barely even tell you’re in the air, and I almost didn’t notice we had landed.  Plus the bathrooms are huge comparatively… ah, but I digress.  Anyway, if you’re interested in the trip, read on.  Here are some scattered impressions:

1. There’s a certain magic to travelling that I do miss sometimes.  It used to be that I travelled almost every week for work, to the point that I probably took it for granted.  In a taxi heading into downtown Chicago from the airport at dusk, I observed its skyline for the first time.  At once both familiar and foreign.  You could see that it’s a world unto itself.  And I got to thinking about how to millions of people, Chicago is “the city” the way that to me San Francisco is “the city.”  Chicago has its own neighborhoods and character, its own touristy areas and locals-only bars and restaurants, its own scenes and players and hot shots and local celebrities.  And to think that every big city around the country (and even the planet) are each their own little world the way that S.F. is its own little world.  It’s one of those things that makes you feel tiny in the grand scheme of things.  In a word: wonderment.
2. Chicago loves it some brick buildings.  I suppose if San Francisco ever had a bunch, earthquakes would have knocked them down by now.  But I don’t know if it’s an exaggeration to say that half the buildings in Chicago are brick.  Unpainted brick.  Which is to say that a lot of the city is the same color.  But I didn’t dislike it.  It had a ton of character wholly unlike any west coast city I’m aware of.  The scores of burned out factories might be considered “blight” by the locals, but I found it charming.  The library was amazingly decorated on the outside.  And though there were plenty of skyscrapers (including the epic Sears Tower which there sadly wasn’t time to visit), there’s still a lot of open space between buildings which S.F. somehow seems to lack.  Not to mention a river going through the middle of the city.  My evidence, though collected in only a couple days, is based on time walking around the city, through the outskirts, and even riding on the famous elevated subway.
3. Chicago also loves it some flowers.  Tulips to be precise.  Many buildings throughout downtown and really all over the city were landscaped beautifully with these perfect tulips.  All I could think was that in S.F. those would last about two days.  As it was, it gave a certain Disneyland quality to walking around town.  It didn’t hurt that I saw almost no litter anywhere there.
4. Oh, and Chicago also loves it some purple shoes.  Fashion in general was a little off, but it could have just been our proximity to the colleges and their awkward youths.  But whatever the reason, I saw plenty of ridiculous hipsters and more than my fair share of purple shoes.  I don’t get it.  There also seemed to be a trend that I don’t notice around here so much: many young, black women seemed to dress in a sort of traditional 60’s girl group style.  By that I mean nice plaid dresses, tasteful hairstyles, super classy all around.  I much prefer it over what I usually see in the Bay Area.  Maybe it’s a Midwest thing?  Also, I saw virtually no rockabilly folks, but there were some tatted up goth types here and there.
5. This trip reminded me some of old times.  It used to be the with band trips, we’d all pile into the same van and deal with the hassles together.  It seems to breed a certain camaraderie.  Over the years, we’ve all gotten to where we book our own trips and make our own plans with other friends or girlfriends or wives, and band trips end up just like any other trip… and the show itself just happens to be the one time we all meet up.  Well, for this trip we all shared one car and one room, and for all the occasional inconveniences that go along with that arrangement, I think it’s nice to do that every so often… get in the trenches with each other as it were.  Sure, it stretches you comfort zone a little, but the benefits far outweigh the hassle.
6. The food on the trip was decadent and delicious.  We ate at Giordano’s pizza the first night and the famous Gino’s East on the way out of town.  Gino’s deep dish actually did live up to all the hype.  It was amazing.  I had lunch at some point at a place called the Midtown which was also great.  Chicago has several 24-hour combination Baskin Robbins / Dunkin’ Donuts.  They are seriously on every other corner, including directly across the street from our hotel.  I saw at least as many of them as I did Starbucks.
7. We didn’t spend as much time in Milwaukee, but it also had a lot of character.  The last (and only time) I’d ever been there previously was near the end of 2004,  right around the time I first started bloggin’ I think.  It’s a nice town with a liberal feel.  We ate at the equivalent of S.F.’s Ferry Building, and I had a delish made-to-order salad and some juiced apple/beet/strawberry/lime concoction.  Unfortunately that was about all I had time for before it was time to fly home.
8. I guess I should say something about the shows, huh?  The Double Door in Chicago was a big place, and it reminded me of a slightly-smaller Slim’s.  The sound guys were great, and after a rough start, we played a good show.  Astonishingly, there were a few separate people from the San Jose area that happened to be in town and came to the show.  Apparently, this is a hot little place, with such acts as The New York Dolls and The Buzzcocks coming there later in the Spring/Summer.  As for Milwaukee’s Shank Hall, they fully embrace the Spinal Tap tie-in.  They also have a history of some huge acts, which of course I can’t remember now.  But the walls were adorned with autographed publicity photos of those bands.  Hundreds of them.  Smashing Pumpkins, Blue Oyster Cult, The Reverend Horton Heat, and a ton of others.  Anyway, the sound here was great too, and we played well I think.  Because of some logistical issues, we didn’t get a chance to hit the hotel before the show, so I played what I believe is my first ever TCB show where I did not shower immediately before.  I survived, but it is not my preference.  Not only do I feel clean and refreshed, but it helps to clear my head and prepare me for the show.
9. A general comment on the trip… I am again reminded how easy it would be for you and your significant other — and this goes for me too, of course — to just take a quick weekend trip to some far off city for a date/getaway weekend.  If you plan ahead, you’re talking like $200 round trip.  Fly off to Chicago or wherever, some city you don’t really know, and just explore and find new vistas and restaurants, just the two of you.  Sounds like an adventure, doesn’t it?  I don’t know why I haven’t and don’t do that more often.  Seems like such a good idea!
10. On my way out of Milwaukee, one of the TSA ladies took a look at my pedalboard case and laughed at the sticker that reads “I ♥ Hunting Accidents.”  She told me she loved it.  I explained to her that it gets me a lot of dirty looks and I wasn’t sure how wise it was to display it up north, and with a wink she said “yeah, we may be the only two people in this whole state that support it, but I do.”  It made my afternoon.  🙂

OK, I think I’ve bored you enough.  In closing, fun trip!  This weekend, TCB is off to Bakersfield and Fresno, and then the following weekend is our big Slim’s show!  Tell your friends!  Spread the word!  Goodnight all!

“It takes 20 years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it.  If you think about that, you’ll do things differently.”

— Warren Buffett

Not to start things out on a negative or unnecessarily shocking note but…

I fucking knew it!  Those rat bastards!  I’ve written before about my hate hate hate of scalpers (like here and here), but I think this news takes the proverbial cake.  Turns out that all that time we’ve been grumbling because scalpers always end up with the best tickets to sell… all that time we’ve been gnashing our teeth and cursing that the whole thing must be rigged… well it turns out it was!  I’m sure this isn’t the whole story, but these guys were certainly contributing to the systematic fleecing of fans that’s been such a black mark on the concert-going experience lo these many years.  To the gallows with you fucking snakes!  A pox on all your houses!

OK, I need some good cheer to mellow me out.  This Stephen Lynch video cracks me up.  I think you need to watch it too.  Go on, do it.  I’ll wait.

Did I mention a couple weeks ago that I caught Deadbolt in Oakland again?  The show — for whatever reason — was much better this time around.  There was still police tape lining the stage.  Still sparks flying.  Went home hoarse from all the smoke.  Saw the usual suspects there too of course, and as an added bonus, I was among the first to snag their brand new album “Voodoo Moonshiner” (which features the return of The Mocker).  And when I say I was among the first, I mean the band had literally picked up the first discs on the way to that very gig.  Hot off the presses!

And actually, on the topic of CDs, I’ve been hearing a lot of good music lately.  Notably, The Legendary Shack Shakers have a new album out which is great as usual.  I also finally gave in and picked up that Passion Pit album everyone is so nuts over.  It was alright.  My assessment?  Two parts Daft Punk’s second album, one part The Postal Service, and (unexpectedly) a hint of what I think is Peter Gabriel’s influence.  Strange!

Listening to: Passion Pit – “Manners“

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Well it was a long drive to and from SoCal this last weekend, but a worthwhile trip all in all.  In lieu of a full narrative, here are 10 fun facts about the trip, in no particular order:

1. Both shows were great, particularly the Juke Joint in Anaheim.  The 454’s “Secret Agent Man” helped us out on a couple songs.  I felt like we were all pretty solid, and I really felt like I was “on.”  I attribute some of that to a new guitar, which made its debut this weekend.  More on that in a future post, but you can see that it’s featured on the Couch Guitar Strap site, along with me, my strap, and Meg’s photography!  How cool is that?
2. Nick was kind enough to play tour-guide for me while in Hollywood, and one of our stops was the famous Griffith Observatory, which I’d never seen.  The drive up to the top of the mountain included some close encounters with coyotes, closer than I usually get to them near my house anyway.  The building is amazing, and the view you can imagine.  We posed for obligatory pictures next to the bust of James Dean.  I narrowly resisted the urge to pose with Griffith Park’s dancing bear statue, a decision for which I am sure to receive flack from some of you.
3. I got to see Jessica and Paulo!  We dined at the hip “Kitchen 24,” and they even made a rare appearance at our show!
4. I got to see Colin!  We spent some time in Amoeba, and just before parting ways, we saw Brigitte Bardot herself pull up, put her two puppies in a stroller, and step into the store.  She smiled at us!  And I snapped a quick pic of her Jaguar (the plate read “BBARDOT”) as proof.
5. Hollywood is just drowning in famous hotels, offices, high schools, avenues, and other landmarks.  Big pink Greek houses that could only belong to celebrities.  Thanks again to Nick who pointed them all out.  In San Francisco, we have the occasional small claims to fame.  This or that restaurant appeared in this or that movie.  But what a trip it must be to live in Hollywood and be just surrounded with that stuff daily.
6. I made it to a Claim Jumper after all.  That’s right, bitches.
7. The Castro is pretty gay, no question.  But I’d argue it’s got nothing on WeHo.  My favorite sight?  The giant billboard for Pink Moving.  Phone number is 877-OMG-PINK.  I love it!
8. While we’re at it, Hollywood Blvd. beats the Haight or just about anywhere else in the Bay Area in terms of quantity of stores to shop at.  So much to do and see there, I think Shel and I would never get bored.
9. Before you go thinking I have some love affair going on with L.A., let’s be clear about the cons, because they are major.  Deal breakers even.  The traffic is horrific.  There are 4 million people there, so I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise.  But the consequence is then terrible air quality.  I was hoarse and coughing the whole time I was down there, and it was so refreshing to breathe in the cool and moist air of home as I crossed the Bay Bridge last night.  Sorry SoCal.
10. The most unexpected aspect of the trip was that I started to realize that as part of getting over some of my travel anxieties of the past couple of years, I’m starting to actually rediscover the excitement of travelling!  As much as the long drive down I-5 sucks, the freedom of open road, no schedule, and anything goes reminded me a bit of when I first got my license as a teen.  I’m only scratching the surface of it now… barely a formed thought… but more to come as I get my head around it.

Well then, that’s the weekend in a nutshell.  It was not what I expected, but in some ways even better, and a welcome diversion to be sure.  I’m looking forward now to some of the upcoming trips… I think.

“Shyness is nice, and
Shyness can stop you
From doing all the things in life you’d like to.”

As in Victory Day, friends.

I made a startling discovery this week when I inquired how much longer a certain soup was going to be on the seasonal menu.  Final confirmation is still pending, but my sources (Boudin staff) today assured me that during a recent menu revamp and due to overwhelming popularity, the Butternut Squash is “here to stay.”  Which I interpret to mean that the seasonal component of our collective menu strife is over.  No longer will the b-squash be subject only to the Fall and Winter months.  (Of course, this also effectively ends my ongoing struggles with Reverse Seasonal Affective Disorder.)

So like I said, absolute confirmation still awaits, but at this point it appears, ladies and gentlemen, we have won.  Rejoice!

If all that weren’t enough, there is other food-related news.  Now I’ve made no secret of my love for a daily glass of delicious Ovaltine, but unlike the aforementioned soup, my proselytizing has been far less successful.  In fact, most people are terrified of its deliciousness, but I allow them that.  I myself have been on the ‘tine train at least since middle school, maybe longer.  And in that time, I’ve stuck pretty much to the main chocolate malt flavor.  Returning from her recent trip to London, Deanna was able to smuggle back a couple canisters of Ovaltine as it exists over the pond.  You may be aware that in the U.K., as virtually everywhere else in the world, food formulae are often altered to fit the tastes of the locals.  So I was prepared for this alien Ovaltine to be somewhat different, and I was not disappointed.  Overall, I’d say it’s milder.  Sort of halfway between pure malt powder and the good ol’ American staple.  Not bad at all, and certainly a welcome change of pace for my nightly ritual.  Like my own little European vacation.  Thanks Deanna!

Listening to: The Drums – “Summertime!“

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My ever-growing “to do” list is my neurotic burden to bear.  As I work through ways of letting it go and learning to live more in the moment, I am struck by some patterns I see.  Someday I may really cut the cord and delete my list altogether, but unless and until that happens, I’m looking for new ways to shorten the list… or at least combat it somehow… as it grows by like 10 lines a day.  So anyway, one of these patterns is that several items on this 3,500-line list are snippets of ideas that I know now I will never, ever get around to doing.  My options are to do something with them (which as I just said, I will probably never find time to), delete them and forget them (not a tragedy in most cases, but there would be the occasional lost bit of genius), or share them with the world (and thus let me delete them off my list).  So I’m starting a new category here of “Ideas I’ll Never Get Around To.”  Not because you will always find them interesting to read about, but because I think it will allow me to let them go and move on with my life.  Some will be big ideas, some tiny.  Some genius, some not so much.  So without further ado…

Who among us isn’t familiar with The Who’s “Tommy?”  And I know you’ve all seen “Moulin Rouge.”  A couple years ago, I myself watched “Across The Universe,” and though at the time I hadn’t yet immersed myself in The Beatles, I was moved by the overall presentation and the way those songs were woven together into a relatively coherent plot.

What I’m getting at is that I think the Smiths/Morrissey catalog is ripe for a similar musical film or rock opera.  I realize that compared to The Beatles, our beloved Smiths have a tiny — if devoted — following.  But I’m confident the mainstream could learn to love the music too if they were exposed to it in the right way.  The Smiths had what, 72 songs in their short five-year career?  And Morrissey’s been solo for over 20 years now, amassing another must be around 200 songs, right?  Now, I imagine most of you reading this are devout Smiths fans like I am.  And I’m sure if you’re on my wavelength right now, you can imagine vigintillions of possibilities.  So many songs about longing.  So many British and Italian landmarks referenced.  Every song is a story in itself, but also broad enough to be applied to nearly anyone.  I think this music lends itself extremely well to be meshed into a film.  Of plot, I’ve given almost no consideration.  And I lost my personal interest in screenwriting long ago.  I’ve envisioned much more the production and the presentation than the substance.  But someday, I hope someone with the interest and the talent will do a project like this.  At the very least, there would be a small army of Smiths cultists rallying for it.  And if it were ever performed live, I can think of a few musicians who might volunteer their services.

“Well they’re all playing lead aren’t they, all of them.  John Entwistle’s playing lead bass, Keith’s playing lead drums, Townshend’s playing lead guitar, and Roger’s fuckin’ the lead vocalist.  It’s insane.”

— Noel Gallagher on The Who

If you can believe it, I’m still sick as hell… but only a sore throat.  No other symptoms really.  And I’ve tried everything.  Every medicine and pain killer, lozenges, sprays, cold water, warm water, salt water, Listerine.  Nothing helps, and I’ve had no respite save for sleep.  I’ve been to the hospital and been tested.  They assure me it’s just a virus and there’s nothing to do but wait it out.  But this has to be the worst sore throat I’ve ever had, both in severity and duration.  And I’ve had many in my life.  The past couple of days it’s been excruciating just to eat.  Anything.  Even drinking water hurts.  Sucks big time.  So that’s been my focus the last couple of weeks.  It’s turned the volume down on everything else in my life, so you’ll have to pardon the lack of exciting content tonight.

Two interesting things I’ve learned from this experience though.  First, I’ve been told by two doctors in the last week that they’re surprised to see I have virtually no gag reflex.  That’s what you call “wasted talent.”  (Ha ha!)  More likely though, that’s just my faith in medicine and authority coming through.  Second thing, I’ve swished Listerine plenty in my life, and it’s unpleasant enough.  But have you ever tried to actually gargle Listerine?  Really let it get down in there?  Well I didn’t gag, but it almost brought me to tears.  Seriously, it’s awful.  Made me all emotional.

So while my sick days are being used up due to actual sickness, many of my good friends are travelling abroad at this very moment.  Big ups to my friends in Hawaii, Mexico, and the U.K.  Be safe!  Have fun!  Buy me stuff!

As I mentioned before, the next few months are going to be extremely busy for TCB.  Nick has been working overtime to book us a ton of new shows, and there are currently eight on the books for the next three months!  Check out the calendar… we’ve got Anaheim and L.A., Chicago and Milwaukee, Bakersfield and Fresno, Slim’s in S.F. and a return to Seattle.  We’re going to be up to our pompadours in flyers pretty soon, but that’s a luxury problem.  Looking forward to hitting some new places, playing a bunch of shows, and working up to the four-hour flight to Chicago!

“First there is a mountain,
then there is no mountain,
then there is.”

— Donovan

As I drove home from the hospital today (yes, my froat still hurts), I was listening to a Bobby Vinton CD.  Stuck on the unusually congested Great Highway, I was chillaxin’ to hits like “Blue Velvet” and “Mr. Lonely,” just trying to get my weekend started right.  It was the last CD my car stereo would ever play.

You see, when I went to switch out CDs to put in The Pixies (yes, I finally bought a Pixies disc), it wouldn’t read.  And in fact I found that no CD would read.  I don’t know what Bobby did to my stereo, but apparently he rocked it so hard that now it’s ruined for all other discs.  Now, I listen to CDs almost exclusively in my car.  That’s the time when I am able to really pay attention to it.  I don’t have to tell you what an inconvenience it is to suddenly have no working CD player in my car, or how frustrating it is that my Saturday afternoon is now spoken for because I now have to go pick out and install a new stereo.  But it’s deeper than that.  This wasn’t just any car stereo.  This was the JVC KD-LH3100.

When I first got my car back in 2003, I was excited for the first time to have a nice enough car for it to be worth investing in.  I kept it clean.  I bought it nice things.  I upgraded it.  And I picked out the perfect stereo.  I first saw this model at some hole-in-the-wall audio place while on a project in Boulder, CO.  I did the research.  I put real thought into this.  And I knew this was my guy.  “The KD-LH3100 features a full-motion 3D graphics display with variable color backlight for easy operation and visual confirmation of status and completed operations.  PICT lets you create customized displays on your PC, and then transfer them to the head unit’s LCD display.  PICT allows you to upload 90 still images and 15 seconds of full-motion video.  It can all be captured, created, and personalized by you.”  This thing can display and even cycle through a whole range of colors.  You can upload your own pictures, album covers, videos, etc. to be displayed, even when certain songs or albums are playing.  It lets you play a disc of mp3s; a common feature now, but virtually unheard of at the time.  To top it all off, check out the Tron-like blue trim plate lighting.  Ladies and gentlemen, seven years later this stereo still turns heads.  It is truly unique among its peers.

But now it won’t play CDs.  And as much as it pains me to replace it with an inferior model, I don’t see what choice I have.  And believe me, any replacement will be inferior.  I’ve looked, and even the heinously expensive models out there today don’t have the swagger of the KD-LH3100’s 1728-color 3D dot-matrix.  It seems my choices are ugly digital clock type displays or full DVD type LCD displays that have no place in an automobile.  So whatever I end up with tomorrow, my days of impressing with my JVC are over.  To those of you fortunate enough to see it in its heyday, hold tight to those memories.

Listening to: Bobby Vinton – “The Best Of Bobby Vinton“

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Three consecutive weekends of shows and long nights finally caught up with me this week.  I’m down with a killer sore throat.  I guess I should count myself lucky that that’s all it is?  So far anyway.  Hope it’s better tomorrow so I can get back to work.  You’d think a few days at home would be nice, but sadly I’ve been too fatigued to do anything but grow a beard.

Those three shows were great though.  Santa Rosa’s Chrome Lotus was a nice new club that has a lot of potential for becoming a regular stop for us.  Fresno was massive as always… a sell out well before Dead Souls even took the stage.  It continues to be among my absolute favorite places to play.  (And it doesn’t hurt that I get to hit a Claim Jumper on the way out of town!)  It’s even fun to drive out there, as long as it’s only once in a while.  The farmland is a nice change of scenery, and it gives me a great chance to zone out and catch up on music.  And then Sacramento was great too.  After two recent shows, we were a well-oiled machine for that show, and ended up with time to play what felt like a dozen encore songs.  It’s great that after hitting some of these venues and towns so many times, there are still hundreds of people that enjoy themselves enough to keep coming out.  We’ve got a ton of shows coming up in the next few months including trips to SoCal, the Pacific Northwest, the Midwest (yikes!), and another massive Moz birthday show at Slim’s!  And do you know we’re only a few songs away from having performed every song the Smiths released?  I’ve only got three or four left to learn!  Then what will I do?

Recently, Sus sent me this picture from Disneyland, and amazingly Joyce sent me nearly the same picture a few weeks later.  I don’t know where exactly this place is, but I love everything about this picture.  I want to live inside of it.  Do they sell t-shirts?

If I can make a sartorial digression here, I wanted to point something out to all the girls I know.  I’m no fashionista, but I know picante when I see it.  There’s a store I pass on Sutter here in SF about once a week, and though the shirts and blouses in the window are different every time, they are — almost without exception — amazing!  It’s called Nara Camacie, and I gather it’s a chain?  I’ve never seen another one personally, but I recommend you check it out.  The guys clothes look alright too, but the girls shirts specifically are lovely.  But then, what do I know?

And while we’re on the subject of clothes, you may have noticed some of the gems I’ve been sporting on the runway this season (read: the t-shirts I’ve worn to shows lately).  I’ve received a lot of compliments on a couple of Day Of The Dead / country western themed tees I have, and while I’d love to keep my source a secret, the artist deserves the exposure.  These shirts were adorned with the artwork of none other than Mekons drummer Jon Langford.  You can see his art many places, but here’s a sample of some for sale.  Yet more beautiful things I would love to decorate my place with some day.  If only I weren’t so lazy.

Tonight, however, I can blame my laziness on this blasted cold.  *cough*cough*  Goodnight!

Listening to: Various Artists – “The Smiths Is Dead“

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