Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Things I’ve Learned about Myself

I greatly dislike bubbling or gurgling sounds. Seriously.

I greatly dislike the sound of bells.

I think people ought to keep their darn toenails trimmed.

I have only one prejudice. I don't care if someone is white, black, gay, straight, Jewish, Catholic, skinny, round, whatever. But I don't like mechanics. Sorry.

I don't like popcorn. If I wanted sock-flavored snacks, I'd just eat my socks.

I don't like the term "get lucky" when used in reference to guys. I mean... WE'RE the ones getting LUCKY if we get to have sex? Excuse me? I happen to think it's the other way around.

I could never live where the winters are much colder than this. I'm from a place where it snowed all of twice in my first 20 years of life. Every time I see snow there's still a part of me thinking, Wow... ice falls out of the sky?

I am stronger than you might think.

Music is as essential to me as my breath.

I am deeply disappointed when those around me fail to use common courtesy.

I wish the word "anal" hadn't entered our vernacular in reference to picky people (or anything else for that matter). Seriously, do you HEAR what you're saying?

I shouldn't blog when I'm grouchy. I think I'll go work on the heavy bag for a while.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Impulsivity Survey

You Are 30% Impulsive

You're a pretty stable and serious person. You don't take things lightly.
This doesn't mean you can't have fun - you just have fun responsibly.
You definitely have a spontaneous side, but you only let loose when it's appropriate.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Speeding Up/100 Little Prayers

I can't even recall how it got started.

"100 burpees." It became some sort of mantra, if you can call it that, for Whit.

I was out of shape. Well, for me. Last semester things got too busy, period. I couldn't work out like I had for so long. The peak shape of my life, which I'd achieved last summer, was slowly slipping away. I mean, for whatever reason, I've long been a guy who can just stop and run a few miles at any given time. But that's altogether different from the type of stamina I was letting slip away because I was too busy in theories class, and in practicum too.


So he needled me to get back on it, starting with 100 burpees. Many weeks. Months probably. I dodged the issue sometimes, made promises to him and to myself. It didn't happen until tonight.


My inspiration is the same. My visualization remains the same.


The man who taught my practicum class last semester died over the weekend. It was not unexpected, yet still a shock. Five weeks ago I was talking to him, urging him to let me drive him home. He was in bad shape. The last time I saw him he was driving away. I didn't know that would be the last time I'd ever see him.


33 degrees in the garage, but that's where I do them, these 100 burpees. MOBB is doing yoga in the living room, and something just seems right about doing them on the mat between the cars, just past the heavy bag.


I am TIRED of death as a recurring theme right now. I'm tired of it taking the elderly, tired of it taking the young, the innocent, the unexpecting, the healthy, the sick.


Working out with a new guy at the Krav school Saturday. We make chit chat. I tell him I'm the senior student at the school, not that I'm the most skilled by a long shot. He asks my age, and replies, "39... slowing down, eh?"

"No. I'm actually trying to speed up."


I'm not laughing, by the way.


I've got four ugly songs on the iPod for my workout. They'll do. Rage Against the Machine, Tool, Soundgarden, and the Prodigy. I'll spare you the song titles. They wouldn't make me any friends in a couple cases.


And I start.

Each burpee is a prayer, a dedication to what I have now, to every inch of progress I make trying to stave off the inevitable.

20 burpees in, I'm breathing heavily. The cold air hurts my lungs. I take off the hoodie.

Keep going

30 burpees in, and I tell myself I'm almost a third of the way there. It's not comforting.

Each one is a reinforcement, a fist shaken at Him.

Keep away from me, from my loved ones, from everyone I know.

40 burpees in, and I'm just aching to get to 50. I'm slow, I'm ugly, and I'm gasping.

And I make it. At halfway to my goal, I'm crawling on the mat, lungs hurting. I'm on all fours, in a prayer position.

I WILL get through this, I think to myself. He's not here anymore. He can't. I'm still here. Still here.

I stay down too long before getting up. More than a minute.


"Slowing down, eh?"


I stand up and start breaking the remaining fifty into groups of 10.

At 60 I'm suffering again, back down on all fours.

Get up. Get up.


I do. I hold myself up between the cars.


Rage Against the Machine are barking in my ears. "@#$% you, I won't do what you tell me!"

And I won't. I won't roll over. I won't stop at 60. I won't settle.

10 more.


Inspiration. I was inspired then. I am inspired now. Do you hear me?


10 more. At 80, it seemed possible. I slowly knocked out the rest. Each one had a moment, an inspiration, a foothold against the ebb.

I am not here to waste this. I am here to live. Go.


At 100, after taking 20 minutes to do what Whit does in under 8, I was back on the mat, but with just a little more fire in me. I lay there on the mat, feeling the cool against my face.

It reminded me of back in '05 when, frustrated with my middling workouts, I implemented interval training. The first one was so brutal I came home and fell asleep on the living room floor.


I move forward, thankful for the blessing that this day and this opportunity to do so are.

Monday, January 21, 2008

A Multitude of Surveys

1. Name a stereotypical Goth trait that is actually true of you. Oh, my preoccupation with paintin’ my fingernails black.

2. Do you like to go to cemeteries? Sure… everyone’s dying to get in!

3. Morbid humor, yes or no. A guy walks into a bar with a tiny piano and an 8-inch pianist… whoa, can’t tell that one!

4. Name a favorite place, building, etc. that would fit well within Gothic confines. Well, that tower in front of KTVT looks like Quasimodo should be hanging out of it. Does that count?

5. Name a cartoon that you watched as a kid, that could be considered Goth.

6. Name a non-Goth song that could actually be considered Goth in some way, and why. (Music or lyrics) “It’s Raining Men” by the Weathergirls

7. What is an activity, place, etc, that is ironically Goth related? My sock drawer.

8. Amongst those celebrities who have died, who in your opinion had the most tragic life? Darth Vader

9. What enticed you to become Goth anyway? The membership dues were reasonable, and it keeps the Mormons away.

10. If you had the money to decorate your home in any way, what would you choose? I’m rather fond of the Hello Kitty theme.

11. Stereotypical Goth screen name? Yes/No & why. Oh yes, BB is a very goth screen name since it actually stands for, uh, Black Bart


1. Next person you'll kiss: THEGIRL

2. Next movie you want to see: I dunno. I don't watch movies much

3. Next person you want to go out with: My sister

5. Next time you're going out: This weekend I may be in Angleton for my father’s birthday. Does that count?

6. Next place you'll take vacation: Phoenix

7. Next thing you are going to do after filling this survey out: Go to bed

8. Next thing you are going to eat: For breakfast I’ll probably have a protein shake and a banana.

9. Next time you plan to be drunk: Never! I have had my last drink in this lifetime.

10. Next thing you are going to do outside: Take out the trash

11. Next person you'd like to see fill this out: Amanda


1. Last kiss: THEGIRL

2. Last person you hugged: Wolfboy

3. Last person you spoke to: MOBB

4. Last alcoholic beverage: beer

6. Last movie: X-Men

7. Last person you thought of: THEGIRL

8. Last school you went to: Still attending Texas Wesleyan

9. Last person you said I love you to: Wolfboy

10. Last run in with the Law: Run in? Not sure. Pulled over and given a warning a few years ago.

11. Last fight you were in: Hmm… came very, very close to being in one in March of ’06. Before that, probably 1983…?

12. Last bar/club/concert/party you went to: Helmet I suppose

13. Last person you IMed: I don’t do that much. Dunno. Nadine maybe.

14. Last thing you ate: Yogurt

15. Last thing you saved up money for: A brain transplant


1. First kiss: Angela, freshman year

2. First true Love: LLB

3. First heartbreak: Lisa

4. First car: ’71 Chevy pickup. Blue.

5. First pet: A Scotty/Dachsund mix named Dooley

6. First computer: A Mac with four (4) whopping megs of RAM

7. First concert: The Firm!

8. First alcoholic beverage: Probably beer.

9. First time you stayed out all night: High school, fishing with my father and stepbrother

10. First best friend: Steve Meier!

11. First job: Burgersmith for one weekend. Or was it one day? Maybe Jack in the Box when I was 16 is a better answer.

12. First school: Southside Elementary. Not gonna count kindergarten.

13. First movie you watched in a theater: Who remembers this? Perhaps it was some early 70s Ray Harryhausen flick.

14. First thing you really saved up money for: Uh… comics?

B - BEST FRIEND: I’ve got a fistful.
C - CRUSH: I think I’m finally too old for this
F - FAVORITE BAND? The Weathergirls
G - GUMMY BEARS OR WORMS: How about I just jam this fork in my eye?
K - KIDS: Two.
L- LONGEST CAR JOURNEY: Probably from Austin to Nashville.
M - MILK FLAVOR? Coffee.
O - ONE WISH: Peace
P - PHOBIAS: Tornadoes
Q- FAVOURITE QUOTE: " I just need an overwhelming amount of love. And a nap. Mostly a nap.” –Townes Van Zandt
S - SONG YOU LAST HEARD: “Strawberry Letter 23” by the Brothers Johnson
T - TIME YOU WOKE UP: 7:30 maybe?
U - UNKNOWN FACT ABOUT ME: I once shoved a sub sandwich in Paul Simon’s face.
W- WORST HABITS: Wasting time online
X - X-RAYS YOU'VE HAD: Plenty, all over. Turns out my skeleton isn’t made of adamantium after all
Y - YUMMY FOOD: Pho, baby!
Z - ZODIAC SIGN: The Western one is Virgo, though according to all your finer Chinese restaurant placemats I was born in the year of the monkey.

L - A - S - T:
01. Last Rule Breaker: All day, every day. When you roll with the Briscoe Kid, you live life on the edge
02. Last Kiss: THEGIRL.
03. Last Cry: Last week
04. Last Library Book Checked Out: A Miracle of Catfish by Larry Brown
05. Last Movie Seen In a Theater: Crikey… That Mr. Bean movie maybe?
06. Last Book Read: Some school textbook
07. Last Cuss Word Uttered: Damn
08. Last Beverage Drank: Water
11. Last TV Show Watched: The end of that CSI show with that little redheaded guy who has built a career on slowly removing his sunglasses and saying tough-guy lines.
12. Last Time Showered: 9:30pm
13. Last Shoes Worn: Sneakers
14. Last CD played: Love by the Beatles
15. Last Soda Drank: Vanilla coke zero
16. Last Thing Written: Endless emails
17. Last Words Spoken: Does singing to the Brothers Johnson count?
18. Last Annoyance: Pleading the fifth
19. Last Web Site Visit: Yahoo mail

B - O - D - Y:
01. Piercings: 1 (an ear which may or may not have closed up by now)
02. Tattoos: Not for me
03. Height: 5'11"
04. Shoe size: 10.5
05. Hair color: Black and grey

L A S T . . .
01. Movie you rented: Terminator 3 perhaps
02. Movie you bought: ha! Superbad!
03. Song you listened to: Crikey, repetitive nonsense…
04. Song that was stuck in your head: “Friend of the Devil”
06. Person that's called you: My father

01. You have a crush on someone: No
02. You wish you could live somewhere else: No
03. You think about suicide: Yep. And I think, “Suicide’s terrible! I won’t be doing THAT!”
04. You believe in online dating: Hey, I don’t have the answers for this stuff, so how can I knock it?
05. You want more Piercings: Sure. I’m going to just drive a full-blown railroad spike right through my skull.
06. You drink: No
07. You do drugs: No
08. You smoke: No
09. You like cleaning: No
10. You like roller coasters: Not really
11. You write in cursive or print: Print

F O R O R A G A I N S T...
01. Teenage smoking: Against
02. Doing drugs: Against
03. Driving drunk: Against
04. Soap operas: Eh?

H A V E Y O U . . .
01. Ever cried over a female/male: Sure
02. Ever lied to someone: who hasnt?
03. Ever been in a fist fight: Some
04. Ever been arrested: no

W H A T...
01. Favorite alcoholic drink: None. I liked beer quite a bit back in the day
02. Shoes do you wear: I wore boots all day
03. Are you scared of: Tornadoes, and plastic boobs
04. What’s your favorite flower: I kinda like snapdragons

N U M B E R . . .
01. Of times you have been in love? I refuse to count.
02. Of times you have had your heart broken? Plenty
03. Of drugs taken? Can we change the subject?
04. Of people you consider your enemies? None
05. Of scars on your body? Lots


Fill this out IN YOUR OWN WORDS and repost as, "My autobiography" ... And use your own answers, not anyone else's, thank YOU.

1.Where did you take your default pic?
At Jade Mountain Martial Arts in Katy, Texas. If I look a little loopy it’s because I’d been tossed on my head a few times.

2.What exactly are you wearing right now?
Pajama pants, a blood donor t-shirt, under-stuff, and no shoes or socks.

3.What is your current problem?
My mind

4.What makes you most happy?
My kids

5.What's the name of the song that you're listening now?
“Unmeaningless” by Doug Powell

6.Any celeb you would marry?
Debbie Gibson

7.Name someone with the same birthday as you?
Elliot Gould

8.Ever sang in front of a large audience?
Yes. Hopped onstage with Dash Rip Rock to sing “Gimme Three Steps” once. I wasn’t well-received, and then-girlfriend MOBB told me I’d made a fool of myself.

9. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
I get the occasional comparison to John Cusack. Very, very flattering, though based more on behavior than looks I’d say.

10.Do you still watch kiddy movies or kiddie TV shows?
Yep. I have kids. I sat through three hours of Batman cartoons today, for example.

11.Do you speak any other languages?
I speak Spanish too

12.Has anyone you've been really close with passed away?

13.Do you ever watch MTV?
No. I don’t even have basic cable.

14.What's something that really annoys you?
Those “ring for service” bells. They hurt my ears quite a bit.

Chapter 1:

1.Middle name: Douglas

2.Nickname(s): BB

3.Current location: Hurst, Texas

4.Eye color: Hazel

Chapter 2:

1.Do you live with your parents: No. I’m almost 40.

2.Do you get along with your parent(s): Yes

3.Are your parents married/separated/divorced: The people I consider to be my parents are quite happily married

4.Do you have any Siblings?: Sister

Chapter 3: Favorites

1. IceCream: Mint chocolate chip

2.Season: Despite the allergy problems, I’m sticking with spring

3.Shampoo/conditioner: Head/shoulders. The curse of dry skin.

Chapter 4: Do You:

1.Dance in the shower: Noooo

2.Write on your hand: Not anymore. But maybe I’ll go hardcore on you and tattoo KRAV MAGA on my knuckles.

3.Call people back: I try to. Whit can tell you I’m not so great about it.

4.Believe in love: Yes. Period.

5.Sleep on a certain side of the bed: Yes. If you’re standing at the foot of the bed, I sleep on the right side.

6. Any bad habits: Heh heh… know me at all?

7. Any mental health issues?: I believe everyone does. I get by. Except when I gets this overwhelmin’ urge to steal Jolly Ranchers

Chapter 5: Have You...

1.Broken a bone: Several fingers. Nothing more

2.Sprained stuff: Lots of strains, back injuries, muscle aches, neck stuff… but never an actual sprain that I recall.

3.Had physical therapy?: A few times. Back problems, hip flexor problems, and a recurring calf problem.

4.Gotten stitches: Yeah. I forget how many. I’ve got a horseshoe-shaped scar above my left ear, and under my left eyebrow is a gnarly scar from a bad bike accident.

5.Taken painkillers: I take nothing stronger than anti-inflammatories for pain

6.Gone SCUBA diving or snorkeling: A little snorkeling

7.Been stung by a bee: Yeah, couple times

8.Thrown up at the dentist: What? No. Is this a gagging thing?

9.Sworn in front of your parents: yes

10.Had detention: Never did. I behaved fairly well at school.

11.Been sent to the principal's office: I guess not

12.Been called a hoe: Uh… no, but I’ve been told I’m dumb as a bag of hammers.

Chaper 6: Who/What was the last

1.Movie(s): Most of X-Men with my son today

2.Person to text you?: Whit

3.Person you called: Whit

4.Person who hugged: THEGIRL

5.Person you tackled? Tackled? Er… probably Whit

6.Thing you touched: My knee

7.Thing you ate: Coconut yogurt

8.Thing you drank: Water

9.Thing you said: “I’ll be in there in a minute”

10.Friends you miss the most that have moved: Uh… I don’t have anyone who technically falls into this category. But I miss my Houston area friends a lot.

Sunday, January 20, 2008


It's late, and I've had my Pop Tarts. The actual name brand Pop Tarts are better than the Target knockoffs. I'm kind of surprised.


I've got not much of anything to share. Still, this compulsion nags at me.


Total money spent on car repairs this week: $1100


Wolfboy won't be in school tomorrow, so we'll spend some quality time together. Well, after I work on the leaves, and maybe on the van a bit too.


Good info from Toland on the 100 songs list. I love "30 Days" by Chuck Berry.

And somehow I've not yet heard Opeth. I need to rectify that.


From Larry Brown’s novel, A Miracle of Catfish:

He stood there and felt the wind stirring in his thick hair. The leaves on the big pecans were starting to waft up and show their paler undersides, and he saw a bolt of pure white light up the inside of a gray cloud far off. Deep thunder rolled booming out of the sky echoing again and again and the wind picked up as the ceiling blackened and moved his way. Birds fled before it, scattering in the wind, wavering, dodging in its path. The sky rumbled and Cortez saw the beauty of the world God made.


THEGIRL turns four next month! She only tells us every single day that her birthday is TOMORROW. She's more than once announced this to, say, a daycare teacher as we walked out. And the teacher would always say something nice, even as we parents shook our heads like our child was some tiny escapee from an asylum.


Got the heavy bag mounted in the garage, again. I got a genuine mount for it this time, so hopefully it won't come crashing down, again.

As soon as THEGIRL saw it back up, she smacked it with both fists and yelled, "Krav maga!"


Some things get said, some don't. Sometimes the things that don't mean just as much as the things that do.


Anyone have any idea how the latest High On Fire is?


Forgive the long quote, but I find this passage from a recent Rolling Stone article about Dr. Drew Pinsky to be fascinating:

His own fame rising, he decided to study the idea of celebrity itself as a kind of personality disorder. Along with Dr. Mark Young, a colleague of his at USC, Pinsky spent a few years surveying famous people with a respected test called the Narcissistic Personality Inventory. They interviewed 200 stars -- LOVELINE guests were grilled during commercials -- and the result was the first empirical, academic treatise proving that celebrities are in fact substantially more narcissistic than the rest of us.

Of course, this seems an obvious conclusion -- until Pinsky gets talking about it, at which point he launches into his theory about the Way We Live Now. "I believe something has shifted," Pinsky says. "Frankly, something substantial happened when we devleoped antibiotics and hormonal contraceptives. Before 1950, almost half of American families could expect a child to die. Way more women could expect to die during childbirth. Living past fifty was sort of extraordinary. Now death and dying don't really exist for us. We don't need to deal with it. And then with birth control, sexuality became unhinged from a biological reality. Throughout human history, sex carried with it heavy consequences. It could kill you. Suddenly we were unhinged from that, and I think our culture has been rattling ever since. In 500 years, people will say the biological circumstances of human life changed profoundly, and it took them 150 years to figure it out. They'll say everyone became narcissistic, obsessed with instant pleasure, they stopped taking care of their children, and all hell broke loose." A meditative pause. "Listen, in the days of Freud, narcissism was a footnote in psychological journals. Now it's the standard personality of our culture. Nothing but grandiose narcissistic thinking everywhere!"


Add Pinsky to my Man Crush list.


The dots don't always connect like we wish they would. Turns out, sometimes a curved line is appropriate.


BB's current therapy: "Set It Off" by Audioslave


From Barry Hannah’s introduction to A Miracle of Catfish:

He told me he had introduced bigger, faster-growing Florida bass minnows into the pond where he let me fish. I fished like God’s expert in the following years and caught exactly one Florida bass one happy afternoon alone. (Rubber bream minnow with spinner.) For that fish I at last say thanks to my gone pal. He is buried beside his infant daughter at this pond on family land.

It’s that last line that rattles me. Here's why.


Good night.

100 Songs To Hear Before You Die

Okay, I finally had to nick this idea from Bruiser. I had to comment here and there though.

1. Alejandro Escovedo – “Ballad of the Sun & the Moon” I swear this is about the Conquistadors or something.
2. Alice in Chains – “Don’t Follow” How many times and ways did Layne Staley sing about his impending death? This one strikes me as being particularly gripping though.
3. Allman Brothers – “Don’t Want You No More/It’s Not My Cross to Bear” The first lyric from the first Allman Bros album was, "I have not come to testify about our bad, bad misfortune." And Duane wasn't even dead yet.
4. Atomic Bitchwax – “Kiss the Sun”
5. Bad Brains – “Sheba” Only HR could sing about, what, some sort of ancient ruler of the Copts? Is that who Sheba was? And do it in the context of a Rastafarian hardcore song.
6. Bevis Frond – “Stain on the Sun” Gorgeous, just gorgeous
7. Buick Mackane – “Loose” Yeah yeah, I know this is an Iggy/Stooges cover. There’s just something so damn great about hearing Escovedo wail, “I’m feeling fine… going down on you…” It just feels so GUY.
8. Chris Whitley – “Poison Girl” from Chris Whitley at Martyrs. He sounds like she’s waiting for him in the dressing room…
9. Conjunto Cespedes – “Flores Para Tu Altar” has one of the catchiest horn riffs ever
10. DeVotchKa – “We’re Leaving” If Roy Orbison had provided vocals for all the old Clint Eastwood spaghetti Westerns, perhaps it would have sounded like this.
11. Femi Kuti – “Beng Beng Beng” Sultry Afro-funk from one of the most charismatic performers you’ll ever experience
12. Helmet – “In the Meantime”
13. Jason Falkner – “Eloquence”
14. Jeff Beck – “Where Were You?” Heartbreaking, and there’s not a single lyric
15. Jellyfish – “The Glutton of Sympathy”
16. Junior Kimbrough – “You Better Run”
17. King’s X – “Lover” Very few lyrics in this one, but they make their point: “You wanna be my friend, but I wanna be your lover.”
18. Living Colour – “Nothingness”
19. Lyle Lovett – “She’s Already Made Up Her Mind”
20. Merle Haggard – “Holding Things Together”
21. Metallica – “Stone Cold Crazy” Their cover of the Queen song is their greatest moment if you ask me
22. Motorhead – “Ace of Spades” Seriously, everyone on the planet should hear this.
23. Otis Taylor – “Few Feet Away” I had a 20 minute crying fit the other day that started with hearing this song.
24. Peter Gabriel – “Biko” Shakes me up every single time I hear it
25. Pugwash – “I Want You Back in My Life”
26. RL Burnside – “Come On In”
27. Randy Newman – “Louisiana 1927”
28. Rory Block – “Titanic (When That Great Ship Went Down)”
29. Smashing Pumpkins – “Drown” Nothing like an 8-minute feedback solo to clean out the ol’ synapses
30. Soundgarden – “Boot Camp” What a longing, melancholy, overlooked classic from a great band
31. Streetwalkin’ Cheetahs – “Good Morning”
32. Townes Van Zandt – “Waiting Around to Die”
33. Varnaline – “Sweet Life” Who needs morphine when this song’s readily available?
34. Wayne Kramer – “Poison”
35. The Bellrays – “Black Honey”
36. The Beatles – “Tomorrow Never Knows”
37. Primus – “As the Toys Go Winding Down”
38. The Jackson 5 – “Dancing Machine” Seriously, do you realize how funky this song is?
39. BB King – “Chains and Things”
40. Billie Holiday – “Don’t Explain”
41. Charles Brown – “I Cried Last Night”
42. Dr. John (with Double Trouble) – “Baby, There’s No One Like You”
43. Hound Dog Taylor – “Crossroads” Want to hear an amp cry out in pain?
44. Johnny Cash – “Hurt” Okay, so you’ve probably heard this. Seriously though, how remarkable was it for him to take THAT song by THAT artist (Nine Inch Nails) and make it his own at THAT age?
45. Muddy Waters – “Mannish Boy” from the Hard Again CD. Yeah, I could go the purist’s route and go with his original recording of this from the 50s, okay, but really, THIS is the one that’ll grab you by the lapels
46. Nick Drake – “Black Eyed Dog”
47. Otis Redding – “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long (To Stop Now)”
48. Patsy Cline – “Sweet Dreams”
49. Porcupine Tree – “Arriving Somewhere”
50. Ramones – “Teenage Lobotomy”
51. Stevie Wonder – “I Wish”
52. Replacements – “Can’t Hardly Wait” Going with Bruiser’s pick here. I know this isn’t the purist’s choice for best song or even best album from the ‘Mats, but I’m sorry—this is one flawless piece of music
53. Roger Joseph Manning, Jr. – “The Land of Pure Imagination”
54. Van Morrison – “Have I Told You Lately That I Love You”
55. XTC – “Your Dictionary” A great kiss-off to an ex
56. MC5 – “Kick Out the Jams”
57. Dash Rip Rock – “I Saw the Light”
58. The Reivers – “Lazy Afternoon”
59. Bruce Daigrepont – “Le Diable Est Lache (The Devil is Loose)”
60. Mary Coughlan – “Woman Undone” Please do not listen to this within reach of razor blades or a bottle of sedatives. Or near a cliff.
61. Boozoo Chavis – “Dog Hill”
62. Jeff Buckley – “So Real” Love it, just love it
63. Robert Bradley’s Blackwater Surprise – “Higher”
64. Drivin’ ‘n’ Cryin’ – “Honeysuckle Blue”
65. Imperial Drag – “Illuminate” Can the human voice really do this??
66. Howlin’ Wolf – “Evil” Still gives me chills
67. Lightnin’ Hopkins – “My Starter Won’t Start This Morning”
68. Buddy Guy – “I Smell a Rat”
69. Courtney Granger – “Depuis l’age de Quinze Ans (Since the Age of Fifteen)” A nephew of the great Dewey Balfa realizes his prodigious talent
70. Jimmy Dale Gilmore – “Tonight I Think I’m Gonna Go Downtown”
71. Blind Willie Johnson – “Dark Was the Night, Cold Was the Ground” Why this was even recorded I don’t know. Chilling slide guitar.
72. Dock Boggs – “Pretty Polly” One of the darkest songs ever, and it’s set to a banjo.
73. Eric Johnson – “Trail of Tears”
74. Minor Threat – “Out of Step”
75. Los Lobos – “Will the Wolf Survive?”
76. Lazy Lester – “Nothing But the Devil”
77. Los Natas – "Patas de Elefante"
78. Michelle Shocked – “Making the Run to Gladewater”
79. Social Distortion – “Under My Thumb”
80. Stevie Ray Vaughan – “Life by the Drop”
81. Asie Payton – “I Love You”
82. Robert Belfour – “My Baby’s Gone”
83. Material Issue – “Valerie Loves Me”
84. L.E.O. – “Goodbye Innocence” Andy Sturmer finally opens his mouth again.
85. Chris Lee – “Sail On” I’d listen to this man sing his grocery list
86. Kyuss – “50 Million Year Trip”
87. Albert King – “I’ll Play the Blues for You”
88. Freddie King – “Have You Ever Loved a Woman?” This isn’t blues; it’s pathos
89. Joe Ely – “Me and Billy the Kid”
90. Archie Edwards – “I Had a Little Girl”
91. Concrete Blonde – “Tomorrow, Wendy”
92. Brendan Benson – “Sittin’ Pretty”
93. Beausoleil – “Hey Baby Qua Ca Dit?”
94. Badfinger – “No Matter What”
95. Chet Baker – “My Funny Valentine”
96. Robert Johnson – “Hellhound on My Trail”
97. Son House – “Death Letter”
98. Hermano – “The Bottle”
99. Fishbone – “Sunless Saturday”
100. Sugar – “If I Can’t Change Your Mind”


That was fun!

If I had half a brain I could make some Bruiser/bruise joke about the photo below, but I believe too much Black Sabbath rendered me incapable.
That's the kind of cool bruise one gets in Krav Maga. Specifically, today we worked on "360 defenses" (among many other things).

This is the result of going forearm to forearm with an "assailant" over and over and over. Bone to bone. Yes, it hurts. Fun though!


MOBB and I sat down and listend to the Beatles' LoveCD tonight. I finally bought the doggone cable necessary to get 5.1 audio here on my Hi Fidelity Briscoe-matic sound system.

It's a brilliant re-interpretation of the Beatles stuff, I must say. And it sounds great.


Guess I'd better sign off before I go on some tangent about square waves or the infield fly rule. Night night.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Fire, Pliers, Tired, etc

BB's current therapy: "Fire" by the Ohio Players


I almost wrote "the Ohio Plyers," which strikes me as mighty funny. Plyers. Pliers.


I've had some good input regarding Wolfboy's fears. I think I will make a point to implement some structure. The tornado anxiety, at least, is addressable. We'll review our safety plans in the house. I believe he and MOBB did some for Cub Scouts not long ago, though I don't know if tornadoes were covered. I'll do it up right too, putting us in the tub, actually putting a mattress over the top. Yeah.

The gun fear still leaves me a bit concerned and without direction.


I'm tired. I'm tired of being milquetoast. I'm tired of killing the world with politeness. I'm tired of all of that. I went to a coffee shop in a bookstore tonight, and asked for something simple: iced coffee. And as some of those non-Starbucks places will do, they offered to simply pour HOT coffee over ice. You end up with a lukewarm mess.

And they also offered me many types of artsy-fartsy coffee drinks, many of which they were quite happy to point out actually contained no coffee whatsoever.


There was a day when I'd have just taken something they had since I'd already approached them and expressed interest.

What the hell? I told the guy I'd changed my mind, and thanks anyway. Was that so hard?

And see, this is supposed to be somehow emblematic of a different stance for me, but heck, that's a pretty unremarkable shift, right?


I'm seriously tempted to tackle the 100 Songs You've Gotta Hear Before You Die like Bruiser did. He got the wheels turning, and really did a good job of not going with the obvious.


It's been a good evening here. MOBB is somewhere in Dallas, with a new haircut and some sort of highfalutin meal in front of her. She's got her trusty Heather by her side. I hope they're flirting with every boy within sight.


I've gone a little bit crazy. That's what I've done.

And I like it. I like it here. The people are nice and they have peach cobbler.


Just had my strawberry Pop Tarts.


I looked good today. Okay, so I actually do need some sort of haircut.


My poor sister's been down with the sinus crud for a while now, even visited by her old nemesis, the ear infection. She went through so much misery with that stuff as a child, having her adenoids (how IS that spelled?) removed, tubes put in her ears, all that. She screamed as they brought her home.


BB's current therapy: "Give Thanks and Praises" by Bad Brains


The semester started for me last night, and the Advanced Human Sexuality class certainly looks to be every bit as interesting as it ought to be.

And I actually had to take aside one of the few guys in there and explain to him what a couple things were. Dude, it's in the Guy Handbook!


Okay, so for one of the projects in that class, in fact, we're supposed to write a paper about exploring something outside of our comfort zone. They even provided a list of suggestions: Visit a porn shop, buy condoms, visit a strip joint, ask your family members about how they learned about sex, all that.


[crickets chirp]

I'm a guy.

That is... well, I've lived a life. I haven't done any of those things in years at this point, but heck, none of that makes me squirm.

I suppose I could go to a gay bar or something, but more than anything it's the BAR part of that I'm uncomfortable with.

I'm open to suggestions, dear readers.


Hope for the blues comes from Otis Taylor. He's all the way removed from the current paradigm, the one in which the same old blues progressions are laid out for some fleet-fingered white boy to play endless guitar solos.

The blues has to evolve. All other genres grow and change (well, classical is arguably the exception). The blues needs to be more than basically the narcissistic guitarist's personal karaoke.

And Mr. Otis Taylor is just the man to do it.


Difficulty does not intimidate me.


Maybe we ARE reincarnated. Maybe the Buddhists got it right. Maybe I've misbehaved to the point that I'm going to come back as a banana slug or something. As long as banana slugs don't get hired by TV stations I'm cool.


Wolfboy asked me tonight how old OLD is. Wanted to know the number at which one is OLD.

I explained that it's a matter of perspective. I explained that I am 39, and have a lot of grey hair. Many people would look at me and say that I'm old.

"But to my father, who is nearly 60, I'm not old at all."

Then I asked him how old HE thinks OLD is.

"18," he said.


"Because that's when you have to work, start doing the hard, important work."

I smiled. "At 18 you will have a lot of freedom. And there will be girls. Being 18 is good, my friend."


In his daycare, Wolfboy is known as Governor Briscoe. He's just got this reputation as a mover and a shaker, a kid who can find an angle on what he wants or believes and make it reality.

This morning, through a careful blend of taking painfully long with his breakfast selection and incisive questions, he managed to get a COOKIE for breakfast at Starbucks.

Yes, call CPS right now, as I'm clearly the worst Dad in the county.

He kept the folks behind him in line waiting just long enough that I started to growl: "JUST. PICK. SOMETHING."

The barista asked if he likes Rice Crispy (sp?) treats. "Ix-nay on the eat-tray," I said.

As he walked away with the cookie and I grumbled aloud, barista said, "Well, at least it's got no trans fats."

Lovely, thank you.


BB's current therapy: "Mama's Got a Friend" by Otis Taylor


Well, I guess this is far enough down the worm hole. Good night, have a good weekend.

Pa, Pa, Pants man!

This made me laugh until I cried!

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Tenemos Miedo

What do you do when your fear manifests itself in your children?


Last night at bedtime, Wolfboy was worried. He was a very serious, worried little boy.

He was worried about tornadoes, for starters. Damn. I am too. I mean, I perhaps have an unreasonable fear of tornadoes. Every spring when the storm sirens sound, it scares me to death. We've had too many episodes where we had to hide in closets or bathrooms. I must admit that they kind of shake me up. No, they shake me up quite a bit.

Where I come from, we got hurricanes. Hurricanes give you plenty of warning. Tornadoes do not. One second you're fine, the next you're wondering if the building you're in happens to be in the path of destruction.

How do I tell my son not to have the same unreasonable fear I do?


He also said he wished there were no mean animals, and that animals like lions and tigers wouldn't ever try to kill us. Ah, this one is easier to handle. Son, those particular critters don't live on this continent.


And then he spun this chilling idea about perhaps being at laser tag and a man with a REAL gun sneaking in unnoticed and picking people off at will.

Did your heart drop like mine did? I asked him who told him about such a terrible scenario, but he swore he thought of it himself.

I tried lots of stuff, like how those things almost never happen, and how in those very rare instances when they do, it would be almost inconceivable that WE would happen to be THERE during it.

I do believe I was smart enough NOT to tell him he'd have a greater chance of being struck by lightning, by the way.


He wasn't acting reassured, and granted, taking the statistical angle wasn't exactly seven-year-old friendly.

I told him that I'd never, ever been anywhere with an armed madman who wanted to shoot people. Then I realized I'd inadvertently lied. That one had to stand though; I simply couldn't tell this little boy that his father had nearly been shot in the back of the skull at 15.


I briefly tried to play the Krav Maga angle, but you know, it just wasn't flying.


Then I told him that keeping him safe is my job, and that I'd done it quite well for his first seven years. I said that his parents love him, and that God loves little kids too.

None of it even sounded reassuring coming out of my mouth. He mentioned knowing about a convicted sex offender who lives in our neighborhood (though he didn't use that phrase; he just called him a bad guy).


It's fear. It's real. And the question is, how much is appropriate? Michael Moore addressed this well in Bowling for Columbine. Is our culture too saturated with fear?

Is this my doing? Did I raise him this way? Is this genetics? Memetics?

He will have to know, at some point, that evil is quite real, and that part of keeping him safe is teaching him to be aware, to avoid danger.

I know plenty about danger and trouble. I just need to be able to teach him to avoid it when possible, to protect or defend himself and others when left with no choice, and how to live a life not strangled by fear.

Yeah, it feels just as daunting as it sounds.


Gotta crash. Ya'll have a happy weekend. Do something profound. Then take a nap and do nothing at all.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

What Comes to Pass

Long ago, I attended a funeral.

I have to think for a moment about what to say about it.


It was... not without problems. Despite everyone's love and respect and admiration for the person who passed, hurtful things were said.


I decided long about then that, in the event of someone's passing, people sometimes just do not know what to do or say to comfort you. Period. They may mean well, they may offer to help, but in the moment, when face to face with someone who is reeling from this loss, people often do not know how to conduct themselves, despite their best intentions.

I marveled then at the extra burden placed on the grieving person. Not only is this person in the throes of the loss, but they are expected to somehow nod and smile and see beyond the oafish, mis-spoken, awkward, poorly-expressed offers of condolences from those around them. It's... expecting too much. It shouldn't be this way. It's unfair to them.


And on that particular occasion, some of what was said and done was actually quite malicious.

The grieving person should not be expected to look beyond that, surely.


Last week, this particular funeral was on my mind a couple times.

I discovered that despite this observation I'd made all those years prior, and despite my determination to never stray far from the reality that people pass (in order to prepare myself, somehow--as if that's ever really possible), I discovered that I can be one of those oafs. When the moment came, when a grieving person needed an ear, a hug, a clear expression of empathy and sympathy, I blew it. My sincere-yet-meager gestures were not sufficient. Not for that passing, not for that grieving friend.

And... I'm sorry.

One lesson I need to take forward is to not think myself so high and mighty and above some behaviors, that's for sure.

I do get tired of learning things the hard way, I must say.


Furthermore, I had the uncomfortable duty of telling a high school classmate about the passing of the person from that funeral I first mentioned. She was a mutual friend of ours, and my classmate had no idea she'd passed. It was a very sad exchange.


There's more on my mind, as is often the case, but I don't want to venture into that tonight.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

The Road Hits Back

Lots and lots rolling through my head at this point. Go ahead and make a joke.

But I'm going to stay on task for now, just stick to a trip recap. If I let loose with everything on my mind at the moment this entry would be startlingly disjointed.


Friday night I headed down to Katy after work. My mission: Provide moral, physical, emotional, and occasional food-based support to Whit as he ran... jeez, I think it's called the Chevron Aramco Houston Marathon. Maybe. Anyway, he was to run the half marathon. We ran it together some years back. I'm well enough to do it again, but registration filled up in a hurry.


I had some van trouble going down. It was an inauspicious start, and considering how badly last year's trip ended, I was worried. Turns out that a tank of cheap gas made the check engine light come on. It lasted about a day.

Still... it felt like an omen.

Read on.


I ran late, naturally, but still got there in time to see the McClendon family, who are some of my favorite folks in the world, and Larry Escher, a man with whom I've long meant to catch up.


Got up the next day and headed over to Whit's school.

First: Taiji class. We were making circles, and spirals, and alternating forms and applications. I want more.
Second: Kung Fu. It was open mat, and I hooked up with a local cop to train. It's amusing to see just how much stuff Krav Maga has nicked from traditional martial arts.
Third: Grappling/Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. Now, my workouts these last few months have tailed off a bit, and I was certainly concerned about my stamina going into this. But I made it through about half of this class too before pulling back a bit, opting to watch more than to participate.

And see, sparring was still ahead of us.

I was concerned about this too, seeing as how I'd done nothing resembling sparring for months.

So we beat on each other for a couple rounds.

The good news: I breathed better, landed combinations, switched from righty to southpaw here and there, and used the Thai clinch well.

The bad news: I got my butt kicked. Okay okay... of course Whit punched and kicked better. And yeah, my clinch was good, though when you're only pretending to knee your opponent like I was (hey, I kinda like the guy, okay), he eventually WILL work out a way to escape the hold. In his case, he found it effective to pick me up and dump me on my head. What, two times? Three? All that landin' on my head made me forget. (By the way, I'm Batman.)

Still, good fun, and all things considered, I think I've made some progress.


After a fine dinner at Hasta la Pasta, the four of us went back to his house, where Whit prepared race gear while I mostly noodled with his guitars. It was a fine and mellow way to spend an evening.


The next morning we were up at one of those crazy hours you never really want to see. We hit the road, and...

The road hit back.

Yeah, the car blew a tire. @#$%

Okay okay, we'd left plenty early. We changed the tired, got in, and... that little puff of air in the donut we'd hoped would get us to a service station was insufficient. @#$%!

So we called the lovely Christina, who came and picked us up by the side of the freeway and hauled us into town. There, she dropped Whit off with a few minutes to spare (wow, just writing the word "spare" makes me cringe for some reason) and hauled me back to Katy with her so I could get the van.

It had been a bit dicey early that morning as the starting gun approached and we had no good plan for taking care of the car AND getting Whit to the race.

Whit made such good time (2:19:00 or so) that I actually got to the finish line after he'd finished. But we found each other in the convention center and headed out.

I've got to run next year.

I want to experience that excitement again. I'm in no way competitive, but I still enjoy the sounds of the crowd and the sense of personal achievement.


I headed home, singing out loud much of the way to Merle Haggard and Pugwash. It was a good drive, far better than last year's flirtation with Death.


We shot some good video the morning of the race, and I've got a rough edit made. As soon as it's done I'll send it to Whit. Perhaps he'll put it on Youtube or something.


Good night.

Monday, January 14, 2008

Home from Katy

I'm back from seeing the one and only (really... I dare ya to find another... even anyone close) Sifu Whit McClendon down in Katy, Texas.

I was down there, again, to lend my physical, verbal, vocal, and emotional support to this young man as he ran another half marathon. He made good time too!

I'll blog at length about it at some point. It ended up being quite a story, let me tell you.

I think he's written about it on his Myspace page if you want to take a look. I will presently.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Geode Update

Wolfboy got the geode! That other kid, even when looking right at it, would only say "duh" to the office lady for some reason. She said she gave him every chance to claim it, but he did not. She handed it over to my son and told him to take it.

Wolfboy was elated! I'm so happy for him. As I put it in his backpack, I suggested he leave it in there and not show it off, just to avoid any awkwardness. Chase is in his daycare.

As I walked him to class, he counted the days he'd been patient over this, even throwing in today. I'm proud of the little guy. My Lobito!

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

Wolfboy's After School Special Life

Friday as we left the in-school daycare, Wolfboy found a geode. It was on the steps in the cafeteria. It's a beauty too, tennis-ball sized, and full of purple-black crystals.

Other kids started telling him "finders keepers," but he insisted on showing the daycare lady. She didn't care one way or the other. I'd sat back 'til then, not saying much.

I suggested he take it home for the weekend, then on Monday he could turn it in at the school, see if anyone reported it missing. I figured he'd take it home and forget about it, but no. He dutifully turned it in yesterday morning.


Last night, I had this conversation with him:

Me: "You know, son, I love you every day. Whether you've had a good day or a bad day. Whether your mother and I have been upset or whether we've been happy, I love you more than anyone else in the world. You and your sister. Nothing can change that, ever. Whether I'm sitting right here next to you, or I'm out of state on a business trip. It never changes. Never will."

Wolfboy: "Okay. Did you know that the Hulk married a harpy?"


So this morning, a rare morning that found me oversleeping, we still found time to go by the school office and check on the geode.

Before I could say any of the things I'd been rolling around in my head, he blurted out something about wanting to see if the rock was still there.

The office lady was confused, asked him if it's his. I clarified that he'd turned it in.

She picked it up and told him no, but to give them a couple more days.

And then an older kid walked by and saw it. "That belongs to Chase. Sixth grade. I'll tell him it's here."

I could see Wolfboy deflating a bit.

The office lady told him she'd be sure and ask Chase to describe it before giving it to him, but that it was probably his. She told Wolfboy that nevertheless, he'd done the right thing by turning it in.

He didn't say anything.

So we left the office, and I walked him to class. Before going in, I stopped, hunkered down to talk to him, and told him how proud I was that he'd handled that so well, start to finish.

He nodded when I asked if he was disappointed that the rock probably isn't going home with him.

But then he said, "I got two compliments though. One from you and one from the office."


I've raised a pretty good kid there.


So, you bright folks who come by here... I'll take some input. Should I leave it at that? Case closed? Take him to McDonald's to reward him? Buy him a geode?

Sunday, January 06, 2008

Do You?

Everyone’s asleep. MOBB took Wolfboy on a Cub Scout trip today, something where they did a bunch of hiking and orienteering (perhaps that’s redundant). They came back just plumb worn out, but they had a good time. Wolfboy, I’m told, maintained one of the better attitudes, even after everyone was exhausted and frustrated.

So I had a terrific, fairly directionless day alone with THEGIRL. This morning we hit the library, where I got a few things of interest. Well, the things that interest me most are A Miracle of Catfish by the late Larry Brown (it still hurts to say that) and a CD by Linda Ronstadt and Ann Savoy.

The Brown book is something I should have read long ago. I’d had terrific recommendations lately from some good folks. I looked for The Kite Runner, The Book of Lost Things, The Terror, and the latest John Grisham book, all of which came highly recommended. My library didn’t have a single one.

And the CD only caught my eye because of Ann Savoy, she of the heralded musical clan over in Louisiana. I’m curious to know how those two sound together.

This afternoon we hit the playground at the mall so THEGIRL could blow off some steam and I could unwind a bit. It was a good trip.


BB’s current list of therapies for a fine, bloggin’ Saturday night:

“Strawberry Letter 23” by the Brothers Johnson
“Boogie Night” by Heatwave
“Fire” by the Ohio Players
“I Feel Love” by Donna Summer
“Set It Off” by Audioslave
“Give Thanks and Praises” by Bad Brains
“Yellow” by Coldplay
“Tomorrow, Wendy” by Concrete Blonde
“Baker Street” by the Foo Fighters
“Feel Good Inc” by Gorillaz
“Junior’s Place” by Junior Kimbrough
“Misery and Gin” by Merle Haggard
“Breadfan” by Metallica
“Hurt” by Nine Inch Nails
“Mama’s Got a Friend” by Otis Taylor
“Few Feet Away” by Otis Taylor
“Connected” by Stereo MCs
“Hooker With a Penis” by Tool
“Green Eyed Stars” by Varnaline
“Sweet Life” by Varnaline


I need to learn “The Needle and the Damage Done” by Neil Young. Of course I do.


If you’re up to it, I’d like to know. This isn’t a survey. This is me, indulging myself yet again. But I’d like for you to indulge yourself too. These are yes/no questions, sure, but I’d like details when possible. Add or omit as you feel inclined.


1. Believe? I do. I believe in myself, period. I know myself well enough by this point to know that I should. And I believe in a Maker, and I believe in love and goodness. And there’s some line from Bull Durham about passionate kisses I should be able to quote but can’t. Regardless, I believe in those too.

2. Want the truth? Sometimes. Not to say that I want to be lied to, but the truth is sometimes too painful.

3. Care what others think? Yes and no. I’m a man with a conscience, and I really don’t ever want to tick someone else off. I want to be considerate, want to keep the peace. On the flipside, I think I handle my own business well enough that I don’t give a flip what anyone else thinks about that.

4. Make wishes? Yes. I think we all do. I hope so at least.

5. Experience emotions for which you have no words? Yep. Have I mentioned that I’m apparently part girl?

6. Feel how you’ve changed? Yes. Physically and mentally. Absolutely.

7. Find that the years just fly by? Yes. They told me this would happen. A year is now nothing. Nothing. Remember when we were kids and it seemed like forever?

8. Feel that you’ve made good decisions? Sometimes. Looking back, there are certainly forks in the road where I wish I’d gone the other direction.

9. Find yourself facing your fears? Yes, and often. There are some that I hope never come around though.

10. Feel a sense of purpose? Yes, and for that I am grateful. I knew something was missing when I worked in TV.


And now for something disturbing… the video for Bad Brains’ “Give Thanks and Praises/Jah Love.”

Something about singer HR is just… eery. The man does look like he lost his grip on reality quite some time ago.


Good night. Thanks for stopping by.

Friday, January 04, 2008

To Market, To Market

How many posts after trips have I titled something along the lines of "Home Again Home Again, Jiggety Jig"?

I didn't know it was from a nursery rhyme until I had kids.

No, I only knew it from the very scene in Blade Runner that I just watched. JF Sebastian returns home with Pris, and he's greeted by two little android guys who say that to him. That's where I got it.


It's Friday night, and I'm tired.


BB's current therapy, in case you hadn't guessed: Blade Runner

What an odd movie in so many ways. I mean, here's Harrison Ford appearing in a science fiction movie in 1982, and it's NOT from the Star Wars franchise. In fact, it's altogether different in mood, tone, pacing, content... this is a Ridley Scott film after all. It's dark and somber, brutal in places.

And here's Ford's character, Deckard, dreaming of a unicorn. That's an image featured prominently in another Scott film of which I'm quite fond: Legend.


I didn't get this movie at first. I guess I was 14 when I saw it in the theater. Granted, I wasn't exactly a Star Wars fan, but I must have expected something more along those lines. I wasn't prepared for how gritty and... polluted this all seemed.

It's set in 2019, by the way.


A year or two later when it came out on video, I watched it again. I was home from school, sick with the flu. I was full of medicine, back in the day when those meds really tripped out the patient.

And I got it.

I did. Gloomy, ruined, beautiful, tragic. I got this movie.

So here I am again, watching it on a Friday night (and NOT loaded on a darn thing, thank you). And I still get it. And I still think it's pretty damn good.


Ladies and gentlemen (okay, mostly ladies), we have a shirtless Harrison Ford at 1:06:09 of this DVD. I'm just putting that out there as a public service announcement.


Another PSA: Get yourself some snickerdoodle cookies and dip them in some Yoplait "Thick & Creamy" Creme Caramel flavored yogurt. It's a damn fine snack.


At 1:11:37, Deckard is basically forcing himself on Rachael. He corners her, even shoves her (okay, now THAT was uncalled for). As he reaches to kiss her, he almost looks like he's going to get a firm handful of hair and pull her to him, but doesn't.

Deckard plays rough.


And here's Roy, played by Rutger Hauer. Forgive me if I'm butchering the spelling.

He really, really should have been Lestat in Interview With the Vampire.



You know, sometimes a great lyric appears in a not-so-great context. I love the line "I don't mind the sun sometimes the images it shows/I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes" from "Pepper" by the Butthole Surfers. But it's really just one semi-sweet, semi-sexy, semi-trippy lyric from a song about a lot of random hoo-ha.

A similar lyric that I love is "Breathe out so I can breathe you in" from "Everlong" by the Foo Fighters. I'd say it's generally a more pleasing, more meaningful song anyway.

"Because the sky is blue, it makes me cry" from "Because" by the Beatles is a good one, but like lots of Beatles lyrics, it's in the middle of their typical brand of stream-of-consciousness verbiage.


Man, I think some of the set pieces in this were also used in Legend, which came out three years later according to IMDB. Interesting.


I believe I'll sign off. Sleep well, have a good weekend.


BB’s current therapy: “Strawberry Letter 23” by the Brothers Johnson.


Been listening to a lot of old funk, soul, and disco lately. I got an iTunes gift card and took the opportunity to at least load up on some singles like “Brick House” and “Lady Marmalade” (how DID Patti LaBelle sing that?)


Currently it’s Thursday evening, though I’ll post this in the morning. Hey, I’m just clarifying because my boss reads this, and she needs to know that I do more than just sit at my computer and blog all day.


Oh, I also got “A Change is Gonna Come” by Sam Cooke.

Do you know this song? You ought to, you really should. It ought to be our national anthem.


And, AND, I got “Boogie Nights” by Heatwave. Didn’t they have another hit? MOBB and I can’t think of it offhand.

Anyway, I’d bet dollars to doughnuts that those guys spent some time as a jazz band at some college, or maybe even gigged as one. Those airy intro and outro parts are really slick and just have that feel about them.


Turns out the mighty Bruiser Boone is blogging again. Stop by to share some of the goodness.


Two days after Christmas my sister’s dog was out back, barking his head off at something. She brought him in and explained that Slugger had been barking at Ron Paul’s dog.

Apparently Slugger is a democrat.


Now I’m listening to Earth, Wind, and Fire. Phillip Bailey’s another person with one of those voices I just don’t get—how can he sing like that? And I heard him not long ago, singing at a baseball game. What, the ALCS or the World Series maybe? He’d put on a few pounds but still sounded great.

That’s a gift I wish I had. There’s something about hearing a gifted singer that moves me beyond words.


“Rainbows and waterfalls run through my mind.” What WERE those Brothers Johnson smoking when they wrote this song?

Happy Friday. Below is a survey, ganked from Coley.


1)Where is the person you like right now?
I’m not altogether sure. Staring at her computer perhaps.

2) Last time you consumed alcohol?
August 17, 1995

3) If you were stranded on an island and could only bring one person, who would you bring?
Ricardo Montalban!

4)Have you ever kissed in the snow?
No. Shuddered, cursed, slipped, and generally acted like a dork, yes.

5) Last place you took a plane to?
Washington, DC

6) How do you feel about the person who texted you last?
I think she’s terrific

7) Have you ever been around someone who was high?

8)Do you like your life as of now?
Eh… a little from column A, a little from column B

9)Last thing you purchased?
A diet cherry vanilla Dr. Pepper. Yep.

10)Have you ever drank with your number one?
This is specific to Myspace I suppose. Can’t recall offhand who that is. Probably not though.

11)Where are you right now, and how do you feel about where you are?
Sitting on my nalgas on the couch, blissfully listening to a rare moment of silence in this crazy household.

12)What is your opinion about George Bush?
I don’t think much of the job he’s done

13)How's your heart been lately?

14) Where are you going on vacation next?
To the Yucatan Peninsula via cruise ship, apparently.

15) What are you excited for?
Winning employee of the year

16) Ever kissed someone who smokes?
No. That’s a deal breaker

17)How long have you been liking the person you currently like?

18)How old are you right now?
39, going on 139

19)Did you have a good birthday this year?
You mean last year? I can’t recall. I was on a morphine and absinthe bender.

20)Are you tired right now?

21) Do you have any regrets?
Who doesn’t?

22) Do you get along better with males or females?
Generally speaking, I have a better chance at getting along with women. I’m somewhat social these days, but I’m still a fairly atypical guy, so I don’t get on well with your typical beer-swilling, Hooters-patronizing, plastic boob-obsessin’ white boy in a backwards cap.

23)Do you have a job?
Several. I have a paying day gig, and I counsel clients, as well as being a father, husband, and grad student.

24) What are you hoping for?

25) Do you get along with your family?

26) Who is your best friend?
I have a few. That’s the great thing about being a grownup; this “best friends” business isn’t all that exclusive.

27) Who is your enemy?
Jon Bon Jovi. Seriously, why does this guy have a penny more than I do? I’ve been hearing this schmo for 20 years… “shot through the heart and YOU’RE to blame… you give love a bad name.” Is he from some alternate universe where anything that rhymes is considered to be poetry? I’ve not heard a single redeeming moment of music from the man, and offhand, I can’t think of anyone else I feel that way about.

28) Who was the last person to break your heart?

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Good Luck Chuck

from a review of this movie:

"There is a scene in this movie where a penguin bites Dane Cook in the crotch. I'd like to find that penguin and buy it a drink." (At the Movies With Ebert & Roper)


Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Crossing the Stream

Few cross over the river.
Most are stranded on this side.
On the riverbank they run up and down.

But the wise person, following the way,
Crosses over, beyond the reach of death.

Free from desire,
Free from possessions,
Free from attachment and appetite,
Following the seven lights of awakening,
And rejoicing greatly in one's freedom,
In this world the wise person
Becomes oneself a light,
Pure, shining, free.

[adopted from the Dhammapada]

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

New Year's Day Update

My little corner of the interweb's been in dry dock for a few days. I've been poking around, doing other stuff. I've noodled around on Facebook and even Classmates here and there.

And I've done a few things around the house.


But happy new year, everyone. 2008, wow. I didn't think I'd live this long.

Nah, just joking.


The holidays have been fine. We were geographically spread out all over the place due to a nefarious combination of MOBB's zero time off, Wolfboy's daycare closure, my time off, and, uh, sunspots.

So MOBB worked, Wolfboy stayed with his grandparents in Corsicana, and THEGIRL and I headed to Brazoria County to see family. And she was a little trooper, traveling for hours and hours with no complaints. She got along well with her cousins, slept in a new environment, and gave some love to her Angleton grandparents.


All that driving made my butt sore though. Really.


Random gift mention #1:

I got a couple cool Asian-themed necklaces. One has this pendant.

A definition I found somewhere of this symbol, the Buddhist eternity knot: This intriguing symbol - one of the eight auspicious symbols of Buddhism - symbolizes the intertwining of wisdom and compassion, the perfection of knowledge.

Sis asked me about it, and I paraphrased that as best I could.

Her response: "What do you want on your hot dog?"

Biggest belly laugh I've had in quite some time.

The other is the Kanji symbols that mean "yes." I've been wearing them both quite a bit.


Random gift mention #2:

THEGIRL got this princess lamp.

The view from her bed. She'll be talking about this particular gift in therapy 30 years from now, I'm sure of it...

I admit, we got it at Dave and Buster's. Hey, we won a bunch of tickets and cashed them in for toys and stuff. I'm told that getting one's kids some Christmas gifts at Dave and Buster's is sorta ghetto.



I spent yesterday working on the van, which has had a rough idle yesterday. I went to put in new spark plugs, as I figured this was the cheapest potential fix for that problem.

Tools and other implements of destruction I used to change them: 5/8" socket, socket extender, pliers, vice grips, screwdriver, shoe string, and salad tongs. I'm not kidding.

And I only got three changed, as the other three were just insanely impossible to reach. I mean, one of them is only accessible through a little hole that's about one by two inches... and it's probably ten inches below that. And the van's still idling kinda rough, so I guess the three plugs I DID change weren't enough.


We had a fine, low-key new year's celebration. On a whim at the last moment we asked some neighbors over. We watched a Harry Potter movie, had a fine conversation, at sweets, ate jalapeno artichoke dip, drank bubbly, drank coffee, and were in bed by 1am.


Anyway, it's a new day. I'm in a better mood than lately, the kids are sort of behaving, MOBB is up, and I've got some important sitting around to do. Take care.