new content alert, located on the [slightly redesigned] menu at left.

the content: a review of the most recent swearing at motorists album as well as the first installment of my all-time top fifty.

comments welcome, even if you're just making fun of me.

and I'm back.

I'll go from most recent to least recent.

this has been my busiest week of offseason work ever. eight assemblies with qca youth over the past four days, with 280 miles driven. by far the most well-behaved group of children i've witnessed attend washington elementary in muscatine, iowa --- they wouldn't even yell when prompted. stunning.
mostly for gurs' benefit, i'll also post a picture of a recent assembly, a photo taken at cardinal elementary in maquoketa, iowa. [view it here. dig the way rookie and i work the crowd.]

to sunday. watched the super bowl at the boss' house, a very pleasant experience. rather than pay tribute to his alma mater, northwestern university, during abc's [bitchin'] starting lineup segment, oakland middle linebacker napoleon harris paid tribute to his hometown of dixmoor, illinois, listing his college as "dixmoor university." uproar in evanston, to the point where the daily northwestern has written an article about it, published [egregious headline-editing error and all] here.

friday and saturday brought back-to-back guided by voices shows, always an experience. after pre-show boozing with jim, a-c, mike, gurs, the boy and a host of others, we proceeded to metro. the show was bad by gbv standards, possibly because the new songs don't have great live energy. the crowd seemed to be in hibernation, as gurs, a-c, myself and some guy stylishly dressed in a tight black shirt were the only people that seemed to be truly into it. the band neglected to play shocker in gloomtown.
the boy said he'd go to another gbv show with me. i'm hopeful that they'd be better that time.

saturday marked an appearance at nevin's live in evanston, sponsored by northwestern a&o. nemo and i managed to sell our two extras at break-even prices [i would later find out that the show was $10 for the public, $5 if purchased by students], and we proceeded inside. a better show on saturday, for sure. the band was tight until the alcohol kicked in. alcohol is of course a standard part of the gbv experience, but it got in the way on saturday. bob pollard forgot more words than usual, and between-song banter, while sometimes funny, slowed momentum tremendously.

i should note that it is amazing how much material mr. pollard has recorded. i counted at least 18 separate releases that songs were culled from on saturday. sadly, nemo was either (a) not feeling well, as he said or (b)not digging the show, so he left early, thereby missing highlights cut-out witch, don't stop now, and game of pricks. opener swearing at motorists ruled.

this site will be mostly unupdated this weekend, as i head to minneapolis to work at TwinsFest. should be fun, but i'm not looking forward to returning home from a weekend of work sunday at 11, only to go back to work monday at 9.

in chicago, and looking to experience an avant-garde film/theater/musical experience? northwestern med school's production of lube is for you.

a wonderful weekend, but, alas, i arrive hoMe to find that my intErnet connection is Down. thIs meAns, of Course, that i can't pOst about the weekend, as i had intended. that'll have to wait until thursday, when a service guy will be able to Make an appearance.

currently posting from the library. i won't implicate the deadbeat company, although you might be able to figure out said corporation with a closer look.

rundowns about dual gbv experiences [including one with the boy], the super bowl, and a record review [!] coming thursday, hopefully.

briefly. back in glenview. take friday off of work. friday night brings the gbv at metro with gurs, jimbo, chuck and, perhaps most excitingly, the boy. indeed, stevie-do shall be introduced to the rawk. how cool is that!?

tonight brought a previously planned trip to denny's with ths sis. hash browns and a real cherry coke for me. conversation was sparkling, although i'm not quite sure what it was about. spike lee and woody allen. the sighing revolution. 8 simple rules for dating my teenage daughter. the walkmen and blackalicious. juggling. eclectic and fairly quickly-paced, in all, a nice hour-plus.

and she paid. [and immediately invoiced our daddy. smart kid.]

And I shall devote this entry to old men who continue to rock. Real old men, I mean.


I last night listened to Johnny Cash's outstanding American III: Solitary Man, an excellent record of covers and a few originals released in 2000. Among the covers is U2's "One," which gets the gravelly-voice-and-a-guitar treatment, to haunting effect.


Anyway, a roommate at the time, Neil, was also a big U2 fan. On this particular night, I was doing some reading and listening to Johnny, and Neil cautiously entered the room, perplexed. Like he knew the song, but just couldn't handle the difference. "Who is this?" "Johnny Cash." Pause. "Why do people like this guy? His voice or something?"

And then he exited.

And I was incredulous. His voice or something? Um, yeah. What pipes! And Johhny was 66 when this was done. Wow.


Also, I saw Solomon Burke perform on The Tonight Show a few days ago. That 400-pound man can sing. If I were still living on mommy and daddy's money, his Don't Give Up On Me would be my next purchase. Instead, I'll just get nothing.

I gots to say, these network programmers have done us a great thing. monday? joe millionaire. tuesday? american idol. thursday? survivor [just weeks away.]. 'what about wednesday?' you ask. Big Ten Hoops.

woofalicious.

watched american idol today, and I didn't enjoy a moment of it. [except for the twins singing that alicia keys mega-hit...yum. vocally, i mean.] didn't even like, or even kind of enjoy, simon. his shtick was the same the whole time. but i kept watching it. all 90 minutes. couldn't turn it off. as the inimitable nick hexum once opined, quite a 'beautiful disaster.'

[sometimes I amaze myself. I just made a 311 allusion...ridiculous.]

in other news, one of the great joys of baseball season is working with the media members of the QCA. hadn't seen 'em in ages. tonight i got the chance to visit with my friends bats and j-dub, jay, jeremy and doug, and i met new-john. this means nothing to you, but it added up to an enjoyable early evening for me. then i watched american idol.

I've just added a 'comments' link, although it says 'Shout Out,' which I sort of feel lame about. The phrase 'Shout Out' is so not me, but I can't figure out how to change it. Perhaps I couldn't change it even if i remotely knew what I was doing.

If you're so inclined, perhaps you can leave comments for me, most likely featuring such witticisms as "Shout Out? More like 'Shut Up.' " Real witty. Real freakin' witty.

It is also possible to post retro-active 'Shout Outs.' I welcome them.

what a wild turn of events tonight has brought. i expect it to be a quiet night - - download a few albums, watch raymond, watch the second half of joe millionaire - - and then the phone starts ringing off the hook. apparently northwestern's a&o has booked guided by voices, the greatest rock band in the world, to play nevin's live in evanston. (See my rankings of the best of guided by voices here.) As a love of GbV is clearly the most indelible impression I've left on people, three calls - - boom, boom, boom! And I'll be able to go, it appears.

I'm looking forward to it...it'll be my first back-to-back GbV shows since Cleveland and Detroit in 1998, mere months after my love affair began.

My greatest GbV moment (other than the closing chorus to "Cut-Out Witch" in July 1998 - - - 3 minutes and I was hooked) came in May of 2002 in Iowa City. Relive the memories here ('Bob' is Bob Pollard, singer and songwriter. 'Doug' is Doug Gillard, guitarist. And anything in capital letters is probably a song title. And so it goes...):

So then, after the first encore, which closed with Baba, the music comes up, and the place starts to clear out. I start to leave and, as I'm at the back of the room, I hear some applause and general screaming, and I see the band come back onstage, so I return back to the front.

I think this encore is just Lethargy then Pop Zeus then Smothered In Hugs. For the final chorus of Smothered, Bob passes the mic to the crowd. Never one to really like the whole "crowd singing" thing, I find the mic in my hand. And I sing the "No need for further..." all the way through , "...I really don't know."

at some point during the shenanigans, Bob grabs Doug's mic and finishes the song as well, with me singing the "out-of-key" harmony. Song over. I drop the mic. Band leaves the stage.

General applause. Possibly some G-B-V chants.

And I notice the mic's just sitting there, and I'm all like, 'I haven't heard my favorite live song in ages, why don't I just sing it myself?'

So I pick up the mic, and I yell "DISARM THE SETLIST...THE NEW DRUNK DRIVERS..." and nobody stops me, and some people are joining in, so I keep going. And I finish the final "Come on come on, the Club is OOOOOOOOOO-PEN."

And then there is general applause. And I'm happy cause I wasn't arrested.

And then the band returns, and THEY start playing A Salty Salute, and it's one of the greatest rock moments ever. And then they say "we've got one more," and they close with Liar's Tale. And it was wonderful.

rough week for indie rock. d-plan says they're done, and so has beulah.

However, beulah has somewhat cryptically updated their website, with the words "We just read an online article that said we're gonna be breaking up after the release of our next record. This news made all of us so sad that we've decided to stay together until each of us dies." I take the sarcastic-sounding second sentence to mean that they're actually breaking up, despite a host of people emailing to tell them how much they love them.

It seems like the wrong response to the onslaught of email they've probably received. People like them, and are sad they're splitting. That should make them happy, not angry.

This Lakers-Rockets game is riveting---(possibly) the first time I've used that term to describe the NBA since the Blazers-Lakers 7-game Western Conference Finals in 2000. Or possibly last year's Western Conference Finals.

Mike Tirico is doubtlessly the most talented broadcaster in the business. Very smooth, very eloquent, I don't think he's ever stumbled over his words. Or gotten a fact wrong. Most importantly, he gives his color guys--Bill Walton and Tom Tolbert--the space they need. This game is entertaining not just because of the players, but because of the broadcasters.

Why I love Bill Walton: He just said "Tonight I've seen two of the worst instances of shot selection in the entire history of the Houston Rockets organization." Hyperbole-riffic!

And to think...come June, we'll be subjected to Brent Freakin' Musburger (go Cats! go NUR!), who is simply not suited for basketball. Talks too much. Overemphasizes the importance of a 2nd-quarter three-pointer. He's just annoying.

My favorite ex-WNUR broadcaster? Mike Lowe.

[PS - If they sell Yao Ming jersey tee's, count me in! woof.]

good: because monday was off, this is a four-day week.

good: this week has been busy, which means quick.

good: that means tomorrow is friday, not thursday.

bad: tomorrow brings a 5:30 wake-up call. a shock to the system, as billy idol once said.

Quick and uninteresting, but here goes...

the Cats weren't on cable, but they were on satellite, so, having not much to do, I went to the local watering hole to take in the action. I was a bit disgusted...when you're the less-talented team, you have to want it more. I mean, really want it more. That was not the case tonight, as the Cats went down 11-0 in the first six minutes.

Remember how I said that winston blake should just keep shooting? I was wrong. his ankle is just so bad at this point---he can't shoot and, when that part of his game is off, the rest is gone too. time for him to take a few more games off. [i've loved winston since his sophomore year. i had a dream about shooting him after an early-season game his freshman year.]

the cats have a bunch of players that, at this point, can't shoot...but that's what the offense is designed for---open shots. therefore, their starting lineup should look like this:

PG: Tony Parker - a sparkplug and an athlete...he's the best they've got in the backcourt

SG: Evan Seacat - he's got to lead the nation in three-pointers/minute played. a pure shooter, which is what they need more than anything

SF: Jitim Young - obviously, the offense doesn't revolve around traditional offensive positions, so this isn't a reach. the question is whether he can bang with the big guys defensively...he can.

PF: Jason Burke - like Young, out-of-position but not a reach. He's been perhaps their most consistent player. A solid athlete.

C: Aaron Jennings - It's become apparent that he'll never make The Leap, but he is a better-than-competent Big Ten center. Also the Cats most consistent three-point shooter.

I think the most frustrating thing is the Cats' lack of heart, perhaps best demonstrated by Jitim Young. The guy's not a pest like he was last year...he's not aggressive defensively and he doesn't get to the offensive glass. He's not improved in one facet of his game since his freshman year.

But I still love these guys. Go Cats, beat Michigan. Woof.

Project complete. I'm seeing Guided by Voices next Friday, and I've finally completed my GbV full-length rankings. (To the three of you interested), view them here.

Also, I wish my pal gurs would finish up his album of the year rankings. I'm getting antsy.

i don't know what to make of this, but i just thought of it, and i'll mention it here.

i work in an office of six (five at the time of the story). it's a nice, happy office. i genuinely like the people i work with, and i think everyone is on pretty good terms with everyone else.

as such, around holiday season, gifts were in order. myself and my fellow underlings chipped in to purchase restaurant gift certificates for the non-underlings. i purchased no gifts for my fellow underlings, although i received cards from both of them (made me sort of feel like a turd, but that happens...)

anyway, at the staff meeting the friday before christmas, my fellow underlings and i presented the gift to the non-underlings (they seemed pleased) and non-underling b. presented gifts to his non-underling counterpart as well as to myself and fellow underlings. as this was happening, underling a. said something to the effect of "oh man! your gifts haven't arrived yet..."

of course, three-plus weeks later, the gifts still haven't arrived [i'm only assuming---this hasn't been stated.] of course, this would lead me to believe that the gifts were never purchased or ordered, which is sort of lame coming from the most well-off member of the office. i mean, i spent 3 percent of my bi-weekly pay check on this man, and he comes up with nothing?

it's not a big deal, but it is a bit lame.

[i once purchased a gift for my brother, the mighty mighty bosstones' ska, core, the devil and more, but ordered it as C.O.D. whether the delivery man ever came, i'll never know. i do know that, if he did come, nobody was there to give him his C.O.D., so he went home. it's still a topic of jokes. then again, i was pretty young, and making an effort to purchase a gift for my brother was a nice move. a for effort.]

Happened to see Interpol on Sunday night at Metro. 'Twas a tight, tight show...not many deviations from the excellent Turn on the Bright Lights, but I think that the greatness of that album became more apparent in a live setting. Paul Banks' voice soars live as much as on the album, and the songs were considerably more rocking in a live setting, or at least I noticed the rocking a bit more.

At the conclusion of a song early in the set, I turned to Mike W. and made a joke about "doing the Arsenio Hall thing" and woofing. The girl in front of me heard, and was all "I dare you to..." like it would be embarrassing or something. So I woofed. Later in the set, during a silent moment between songs, I emitted an extended "AAAOOWWWW" which for some reason prompted laughter from the same girl. I think she thought I was a dork. I also think she should be less image-conscious at a rock concert. Just rock, yknow?

[Note: If you are not named Eric, you should probably skip the following paragraph. If you are named Eric, this is being included to give you, well, more material.]

There was one minor mishap at the outset of the evening. I arrived in near the gurs pad about 745, and spent the requisite 15 minutes or so parking [showtime slated for 9]. Parked, then began the process of determining what to bring with me. ID? Check. Cash? Check. Left the car, noticed the climate was a bit warmer than I thought, went back to the car to deposit my coat [and avoid the smoky smell]. Keys? Not check. Front seat. Car locked. Uf. Went to the gurs pad, called AAA, told "an hour or less." went back to the car to wait about 15 minutes later [now about 830]. Gurs left to meet mike about 840. I call AAA, am told 918 would be the scheduled arrival. Took a walk around the block. Visited the restroom at a local watering hole. Pointed some German guy to clark street [someone had pointed him the wrong way], presumably for him to experience the rock. Sang side two of Bee Thousand to myself, although not in sequential order. Guy showed up about 925. I was in the club by 945, in time for Calla, but not for opener The Race. Apparently The Race was not good, but I enjoyed Calla a bit.

I also beat the Boy in Trivial Pursuit TWICE this weekend. I've regained my "Smartest Guy Alive" title again. Woof.

Three things, including a three-part thing.

First, the three-part thing. There's this 'refs blew the game' sentiment that's been particularly prevalent over the last 8 days in football. It doesn't anger me, but it frustrates me. And so... To Rick Reilly [he of the gigantic ego, who devoted an entire column in Sports Illustrated to slagging the official who called pass interference against Miami in overtime of the national championship game]: The Refs did not allow Craig Krenzel, a terrible quarterback in his own right, to complete a fourth-and-fourteen just a few plays earlier. To seemingly EVERYONE [for bashing the Giants-49ers refs for the botched call on the potential game-winning field goal]: The Giants blew a 24-point lead...they've got no gripe. To Bill Cowher [who blamed his loss on an (accurate) running-into-the-kicker call]: your boy missed a tackle that resulted in the 30 extra yards that resulted in the game-winning field goal. Shut up.

The Walkmen's "We've Been Had," called the second-best song of 2002 here, is currently on a Saturn commercial. It's jarring, but, damn, the song goes with the commercial quite well. This factoid brought to you by the incredible Unstadt.

Finally, I was reminded today of a high school / junior high clique [probably the wrong word] that I had long since forgotten. I was working this event called "Bald Eagle Days," a weekend festival of sorts which features a series of wildlife presentations [and booths of unrelated companies]. The clique that I had forgotten about resides above 'nerd,' perhaps. They're certainly not cool; in fact, they're not even of average coolness. In general, they're not interested in sports, and they spend much of their time at a nature preserve, such as, perhaps, The Grove in Glenview. Often they're misshapen in some way, although I can't think of any specific examples. An oversized booty on an otherwise normal-sized person? Perhaps. "Wild about wildlife," shall we say? I'm not sure they had a name, but I'll use an old word in a new way and call them Animaniacs. In fact, there probably weren't enough of them to even consider them a clique, but I'm sure you can think of some names. Anyway, remember them? Animaniacs are present in full force at "Bald Eagle Days," as one would suspect.

i'm wondering if i'm the first person to receive both of the cd's that i received today on the same day. the cd's are: the pixies' doolittle and blackalicious' blazing arrow. I think I might be the first, although some other indie-rock faux-hipster out there may have also bought the blackalicious record due to its hipster cred and the pixies record because it's something they should have but don't. i've just started listening to the pixies album. blackalicious is neat - "make you feel that way" sure is a sweet cut [is it cool to use the word 'cut?']. Also, '4000 miles,' with the good kids of jurassic five, is a neat one. [for the record, i own two hip-hop records, this here blackalicious one and michael franti/spearhead's stay human. i'm learning]

for the second straight night, i find myself tired. this is odd because i've done nothing. of course, the fact that i've done nothing could also be why i'm tired. i set new lows for doing nothing tonight, not even cooking myself a decent dinner. i ate oatmeal instead. i've taken to putting ovaltine in coffee, and i tried it---along with brown sugar---in my oatmeal tonight. no impact.

and the week doesn't end tomorrow - - - i'm working saturday from 10-7 manning a bandits booth at some event or something. but sunday brings interpol with the gursinator. and monday's off. hopefully the boy will still be in glenview. i'd love to whoop his ass at trivial pursuit.

[note: that was the first instance of objectionable language on this site. i'm not sure how i feel about it. i didn't get much of a charge out of it. stay tuned.]

it was sunny and beautiful today. i walked to work, with the new beck album on the headphones. a nice, peaceful walk.

elsewhere, it's real tough being a northwestern fan actually cares a bit. tonight's 5-point loss to Iowa was a game they actually should have won. their second-half opening drought is inexcusable, especially with three seniors playing key roles on the roster. just shouldn't happen.

strange as it may seem, every time winston blake has an opening, i want him to take the shot. he was 0-for-6 from outside tonight (I think it's 4-for-31 over his last five games), but that's his game. the team functions better when he's aggressive, regardless of whether he's hitting or not. (in their biggest win last season, against Wisconsin, he was just 6-of-14 from the field but got to the line 11 times and scored a career-high 23.)

if they had to lose, I'm happy it was by 4 or more. my [far richer] boss, an iowa alum and former herky the hawk[!], and i placed a friendly wager on the contest, including the 3.5 points that the cats were due to get. if nu lost by three, or even one, i was going to call it a push. i don't do point spreads.

in other news, my pal eric must have been torn tonight when his boys georgetown took on his boys duke. if i were him, i'd've been cheering for georgetown, only to improve their tourney standing. wins at cameron mean mucho. oh well.

i'll try to come up with something interesting for tomorrow. there's just nothing there. i'll sleep instead.

I've just found out about an artist named cody chestnuTT [he thinks the TT thing is cool] who is apparently on the verge of taking over the world. I dig him. I dig anyone who can sing "I can do anything I want / because I look good in leather" with a straight face. The album was self-released and not so widely available at the moment, but apparently there's a major label deal on the way. Spin already placed the record,Headphone Masterpiece. in its top 40 of 2002...MTV says that April 30 is the date for major label release.

I'll probably buy it beforehand...those bastards at amazon are offering it in a package deal with The Streets' album, another acclaimed genre-hopping release. I might be a sucker, we'll see.

In other news, you've got a chance to get between 5 and 20 bucks if you purchased a CD, LP or cassette between 1995 and 2000, during which time the major labels were colluding to keep prices up (list prices up to 18.99? I'd say they're still doing it). Anyway, click here to get your piece of the pie.

Cats and Iowa tomorrow, Big Ten opener. Also a purple shirt and wildcats tie day. A good matchup to open the big ten season--home, against an okay team. I'm looking forward to a 1-0 big ten start.

I wrote an actual letter today. How cool is that?

My hand hurts.

More tomorrow.

PS - It wasn't long snapper Trey Junkin's fault or holder Matt Allen's fault or kicker Matt Bryant's or the referees' fault. When a team blows a 24-point second-half lead, one play is not the difference. 20 minutes are. Shockey drools, T.O. Rules.

two stupid things said by cris collinsworth, in a span of 45 seconds:

with San Francisco, trailing 28-14 with 12 minutes left in the third quarter, facing fourth and inches...

"steve mariucci has to go for it here...he needs to get his team back in the game." (me: did you see any of the Pittsburgh-Cleveland game?)

after fred beasley is stuffed on fourth and inches...

"that's something nobody's been able to do all year. beasley's 15 for 17 in short yardage situations." (me: sounds like two teams did it this year, dummy).

your favorite bastard, andrew

came to a sad realization while watching 3 a.m. episodes of MTV's Taildaters (yes - it was great. I will not argue about this.) last night: at this point, I am at the tail end of MTV's target market. They're searching for 18 to 24 year olds in the Southern California area (I thought that my friend Dan would be interested) to be on the show...and I realized that, at 22, I'm in the upper half of that group.
In fact, nobody I saw was older than 20. Scary.

...out of the MTV loop. sort of like the time you find your first gray hair. Wow.

just saw a commercial touting the vin diesel action movie XXX as "the most anticipated special edition dvd of the year." i, of course, have no qualms with this statement. it's not unlike the saturday night live Weekend Update segment when jan brady declared leprechaun the best movie of the year. it was, of course, the first week of january.

in other news, mike sherman, with 5 minutes left in the second quarter and down 21-0 [three TDs + 3 extra points], elected to go for fourth and goal from the two yard line instead of kicking a gimme extra point. the packers, having no red zone running game, failed. later, with 5 minutes left in the third quarter and now down 24-0 [three TDs + three two-point conversions], the packers scored a TD. in this situation, sherman decided to kick the extra point, making it 24-7 [still three scores]. doesn't really make sense to me. somehow he must have felt there was more urgency with 35 minutes left in the game than with 25 minutes left. moral of the story: take the points, especially early. dummy.

in other news, why buy chicken fajita seasoning, when you can do it yourself!? a recipe i tried, with great results:
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
2 teaspoons soy sauce
2 teaspoons vinegar (any kind)
1 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
dash cayenne pepper
about 10 oz. chicken, in 2" x 1/4" slices
1 large onion, thinly sliced
1/2 green pepper, thinly sliced
1/2 red pepper, thinly sliced


mix spices and sauces together. marinade meat and vegetables for 30 minutes. cook. add other fajita-ish things [lettuce, guacamole, salsa, jalepenos etc.] and throw it all in a warm tortilla. yum.

now we've got the best damn team in the land"

wow. super game. that's all.

coffee after 10 p.m. is a bad idea.

this should have been apparent after the "Goooooooood Niiiiiiiight" debacle of 2000 but, alas, I shall never learn.

anyway, i was a bit drowsy watching college football last night (perhaps the stinker of a game had a part of it---as of now, 5 of 7 new year's and beyond bowl games have been booooring), and around 10 i decided a cup of coffee might perk me up. it didn't do the trick, so i figured another wasn't a bad idea.

eventually, about 1215 or so, it was sleep time. or wiggle time. long time wiggling. got up about 230 to read some. still not drowsy in the least. about 3, i began work on a potential addition to this here site. (it'll be interesting to about none of you.) about 345 i finally crawled back in bed. eyes closed by 415 or so, to the strains of beck's sea change.

thankfully, i awoke in time for work, but was mostly drowsy.

by the way, in yesterday's entry i forgot to mention one highlight of my recent week in glenview...sunday morning, 12/29. 1110 a.m. annie and i go to see Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, annie dressed as harry. the finest gryffindor quidditch robe [jersey #9 3/4--a nice touch] you'll ever see. a great morning. and outstanding, and i mean outstanding, film. riveting. silly. superb.

a happy new year to all (three) of my faithful readers. warning: this post contains far too many links, only because college football just isn't so entertaining at the moment.

obviously, it's been a while. if one can use 'whirlwind' to describe a week in which said person showered before 3 p.m. just twice, the I shall call this past week a 'whirlwind.'

a christmas rundown:

saw mom's family the sunday before, saw dad's family the 24th, 25th and 26th. all fine folks. most interesting fact: my cousin Grace's third grade teacher is a GBS alum. Grace heads back to third grade armed with yearbook pictures.

as always, the siblings outdid themselves with christmas gifts. steve, upon hearing me complain that I've undereducated myself with regard to the beatles, provided both please please me and let it be. annie, continually proving herself to be cooler than I'll ever be, purchased the recent camper van beethoven box set, cigarettes and carrot juice: the santa cruz years. It compiles their first three records and adds a live album and a rarities release. I'm not sure what I think of it, but i'm happy its here. dave came out with some shockers: and the crowd goes wild, the sports radio book/cd released last year, a baseball-and-glove plate set (and salsa bowl!, as I learned today), and a duff beer t-shirt.

the parents, for their part, continued on the same path they've blazed for 20-something years...spoiling their most prized offspring. i came away with a television and dvd/vcr [i'm hoping they're planning to cut me off at some point...somehow i doubt it], a new coat, michael azzerad's outstanding our band could be your life indie rock history book, beck's sea change. also included: the surprisingly-helpful-in-only-my-fifth-day-of-ownership gift of the year: yes, a vacuum cleaner.

[a note about the previous paragraph: dave also received the identical tv/dvd/vcr grouping. perhaps it's not a most prized offspring award, but rather a thank-god-you-only-bother-me-during-the-holidays award.]

for my part, i did well for the sibs and parents. the boy received a cd containing the first two records by the db's, as well as a dunston bobblehead and the pertinent sections of magnet magazine's power pop issue [older brother still isn't finished with the reviews.] dave, my metalhead-punk bro, received (and seemed to be happy with) the 2002 releases of the hot snakes and mastodon. and annie, who enjoys at least one hot hot heat track (and admitted [under duress] to being a 'leftist poseur' during a heated [and painfully long] trivial pursuit contest christmas night), was given the only life without buildings full length, as well as first-hand source from the civil rights movement, stokely carmichael's black power.

older brother dave spearheaded the let's-get-mom-and-dad-stuff-that-doesn't-suck movement, resulting in a dvd/vcr for them. in the individual gifts round, i gave dad johnny cash's live at folsom prison recording, while mom received the it's a wonderful life dvd. the latter was also the only gift to drive anyone to tears of joy this year. score one for me (and not the boy...woof!).

the rest of the week was a whirlwind, as I've said. thursday brought lil wej standing in for annie in the rd family trip to the blackhawks game (monday had brought an all-too-brief meeting with big wej and sacksy), friday brought deedz, saturday involved coach and brysi, and sunday involved dad, the boy, and henry burris, as well as a late-night denny's run with chuck; in short, i hit everyone i intended to hit.

i also found the time [entirely in the 'wee hours of the morning'] to take the cats to the 2020 national championship in ea sports' college football 2003.

i returned home monday to watch low quality, well-attended hockey with workies keith and dave, and shopped for a tv/vcr stand on tuesday afternoon. assembled the stand tuesday afternoon and well into the evening...watched the festivities of the night at home. no complaints.

today, I've watched the irish lay the proverbial egg, watch mike price get was he deserves, and i recently watched the first half of the first (and only) time i'll ever cheer for florida state. something compelling about their situation. but the dawgs are good.

return to work tomorrow. this doesn't anger or sadden me. i'm recharged. season starts in three months and two days. woof!