BB am I

Goodbye.

2011-09-19T17:54:00.000-05:00

I am looking forward to the next chapter in my life. My past is behind me, and man, the future looks amazing.

Strange BB and Magic Numbers

2010-09-19T08:54:00.003-05:00

Yesterday a client told me I look like Dr. Strange. What do you think?

***

***

Big things going on here. Good things. You'll see.

***

Happy Sunday

Scattered shots

2010-09-18T07:35:00.000-05:00

Maestro Jeff Beck

2010-09-14T11:11:00.000-05:00

A gorgeous song from a true electric guitar master.

BB b 42

2010-09-02T13:20:00.005-05:00

I turned 42 on Sunday.

Renee' and the kids and I had a really nice lunch at Red Robin to celebrate. A BIG thank you to Amanda for the gift certificate!

***

Did you know that Patsy Cline wore genuine chupacabra fur? Yep. She sang to them to lull them into cooperation as she shaved them. It's true. You could look it up.

***

Renee' treated me like an absolute king on my birthday. She hosted a small birthday dinner and invited a few friends. We had surf and turf, apple pie... wow. And she gave me nice cookware, as well as a subscription to Guitar Player. I'm excited! It was one terrific day. I really appreciate all that everyone has done for me, both for my birthday and otherwise.

Austin, 2010

2010-08-25T17:43:00.001-05:00

First Day of School 2010

2010-08-23T10:31:00.003-05:00

This is the "yeah Dad, uh, it's really time for you to leave now" look.

Sunday Night Jibber Jabber

2010-08-22T22:17:00.005-05:00

Church every Sunday, introspection, prayer, meditation, study, counseling (as therapist and client), grad school, and a lifetime of conversations with the gaggle of brilliant folks whom I am privileged to know... and the more answers I get, the more questions I have.

***

We've been decorating in the kids' room. We put up some cork boards, and we painted this evening. Like the color?

***

Tonight I was singing "After the Gold Rush" by Neil Young, and THEGIRL kept interrupting me to improvise her own lyrics. It was quite cute.

***

I believe in love.

I had lunch with a friend who is 80+ years a couple months back. He was giddy over the fact that he was about to have a lunch date. At his age, the prospect of love still lights him up.

***

Sometimes I do have to swat the memories away like flies.

***

Tomorrow is the first day of school for my children. Their lunches are packed, their clothes are picked out... I hope it's a terrific year for them.

***

Black cherry... nice.

***

Good night.

Racing Thoughts

2010-08-21T20:03:00.002-05:00

I'm really not sure what to make of this, but something has become abundantly clear to me lately: If you're lowest socio-economic status (aka desperately poor), socialism is your way of life. I know that the term socialism refers to more than just allocation of resources, but I can't help but think of that life as a socialist existence. Charities, non-profits and the like exist to ensure that resources are available for those who cannot otherwise provide for themselves. And of course, the community in that SES tends to band together and help one another.

***

Watching Spider-Man with the kids. It's about time we had a superhero movie marathon here. Though we're only going to have time for a couple.

***

Been on a Joe Ely kick today. First time in years. I learned "Me and Billy the Kid" and "If You Were a Bluebird."

***

I know lots of folks who could really stand a break right now. Well, more than a break. A ... victory. A win. Something in the "win" column. I'm one of them.

***

John Legend... Tuesday... Austin... can't wait!

If you haven't heard him, click that link and check him out. Really.

***

Making brownies with THEGIRL at the moment. That is, I mixed up all the stuff, and she's licking the bowl.

***

Good night. Be excellent to each other.

Ramblings of a Dude in a Recliner

2010-08-19T19:21:00.006-05:00

Avocados taste great with soy sauce. This is proof that God:

A. Has a sense of humor
B. Intends for us to eat fusion cuisine
C. Forgot to put avocado trees in Asia
D. Expected the Mayans to invent soy sauce

***

Print hanging in the men's room in a local office building.

"The Bordello."

I mean... really? Really?

***

Yeah, so I took a big box of stuff to Goodwill to donate yesterday. And that was fine until this morning when I realized that the bag with the kids' new school clothes was actually in that box too.

Four trips to Goodwill and lots of schmoozing this morning resulted in most of the clothes being found and returned. Yahoo!

***

Giant grasshoppers invade Hurst!

Run for your lives!

***

Heading to Austin with Renee' next week to catch John Legend on Austin City Limits. I'm really looking forward to it!

***

I love sushi, and decided to make my own recently.

It turned out pretty well. Rolling it is a bit tricky. And I learned one quick lesson: Get the nori at a genuine Asian Market (20 sheets/$2.99) instead of someplace like Market Street (7 sheets/$5.99).

***

So we realized today that the baseball the kids and I were playing with has something written on it: "Luis Tiant, July 19, 1974."

With a little research, we learned that on that date, Tiant pitched a game for the visiting Red Sox against the Texas Rangers. He pitched a complete game, giving up 8 hits and one earned run. The Rangers lost 3-1. If I recall, Wolfboy's grandfather caught that ball as a foul that day in old Arlington Stadium.

Cool!

***

The kids are watching Furry Vengeance and howling and squealing with laughter.

***

Juke refuses to die.

***

Y'all take care.

Recent photos...

2010-08-14T12:10:00.003-05:00

2010-08-13T19:02:00.001-05:00

Test

Pedazos

2010-08-08T22:19:00.002-05:00

Last weekend after Renee' and I picked the kids up from their grandparents' in Corsicana, we stopped at a Waffle House. Wolfboy leaned over the jukebox and asked if we could hear "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye.

No idea where that came from.

***

Apparently God is angry at me, as a biblical plague of crickets has descended upon my apartment. I've probably killed a couple hundred in the last couple weeks. It's maddening. The apartment complex says they'll spray.

***

There's another plague around here: Shirtless, hotrod truck driving young men who peel out in the parking lot. They're @#$%ing me off. The 6:25 squeal this morning was probably the worst yet.

***

Going to Texarkana with Renee' to see her mom for a few days this week. Never been, but I'm looking forward to it.

***

So Anderson Silva had to put up a real fight last night. A little back story for those who might not be familiar with him:

He's often hailed as "pound for pound the best fighter in the world." Given his amazing record (27-4 I think), perhaps that's the case. And he's certainly gone through some really tough guys like a hot knife through butter.

Yet for several fights now he's stopped acting like a fighter, instead choosing to... well, dance. Yeah. And clown. He evades the other fighters, engaging only here and there. He's frustrated a lot of people besides myself, including UFC president Dana White.

So trash-talking Chael Sonnen swore he'd take the fight to Silva. And lo and behold, he DID. Silva got seriously whupped for just about five rounds. Unfortunately, Sonnen got caught in a triangle choke just seconds before the final bell, when he would have won a clear decision.

I'm just glad that Silva was forced to behave like an actual fighter.

***

Made some chicken tortilla soup tonight. It was quite tasty.

***

Y'all take care.

Sonnet I

2010-07-28T14:21:00.002-05:00

The sun runs through my veins, and your arms cradle me;
Your fingertips caress my skin, gently tracing works of art;
Our eyes are mirror images, reflecting the world endlessly;
I breathe in the scent of you, and it lights a fire in my heart.
Just as nature intended, and like millions gone before,
We've fallen in the deep end; body, mind and soul.
Unlike those millions however, it's you alone I adore;
We're two halves that make a complete whole.
You ruffle my hair, and I scrunch my face tight;
A grin breaches my front, and we collapse in laughter,
A giggling pair, two of a kind, and a sweet sight;
We toast with a kiss, hopeful for happy ever after.
Ups and downs will always come our way,
But how could I do anything but stay?

(by Megan Dwinell, Renee's daughter)

Say... does this guy look familiar?

2010-07-14T11:31:00.000-05:00

(A picture found in my church)

Before.

2010-07-01T22:15:00.002-05:00

Long ago I used to hear people say that they wouldn't change a thing about the past, because it made them who they are.

I used to take a rather contrary stance on that. I believed that there are many routes to get to where one is, and that through the minefield isn't a route to appreciate.

I think I get it now though.

I think that we are the sum of our experiences. I am what I am today--and I say this believing that I'm in my best emotional state ever--specifically because of some of what I experienced. I could not have this perspective, this openness, this capacity to understand, this willingness to forgive myself and to let love in, without all that came before.

Wow

2010-06-03T23:21:00.003-05:00

The kids are asleep in their beds upstairs, and I'm enjoying the quiet. Well, I've got some live Earth, Wind, & Fire going.

***

Things are really looking up at the moment. The job situation just took a turn for the better, let me tell you. I'm technically working at four places. The rundown:

The Brain Institute has hired me to work Mon/Tues/Wed. It's a beautiful office with a terrific staff.

Mindful Directions is my other primary gig. I've been slowly building a client base there, and look forward growing with them.

Hurst Christian Church, where I have been staff counselor since 2008. They've been terrific to me. I just started accepting Medicaid there.

The Depression Connection Team, for whom I run two weekly depression/bipolar support groups. They've been just terrific to me.

It keeps a boy busy!

***

Tonight the kids and I sat out on the balcony and ate our treats in the cool evening air. THEGIRL and I had mint chocolate chip ice cream, and Wolfboy had marshmallows.

***

This weekend I'm going to take a crack at making tortilla soup.

***

I have the world's greatest girlfriend. Wow. Seriously. Wow.

***

Been digging John Legend lately. The guy could really become this era's Marvin Gaye.

***

Turning in soon. Good night.

At 2:09 a.m.

2010-05-29T02:08:00.001-05:00

Yeah, it's late.

It's been one terrific day. So many good things happened today.

What's a boy supposed to do when his dreams come true?

Hi

2010-05-26T22:38:00.001-05:00

I'm here, I'm alive. Lots going on.

I don't feel like getting into it right now.

Expect good things. Will update soon. Maybe.

Peace.

The little black box has opened

2010-05-16T23:48:00.003-05:00

This is to be touched by the divine.

This is the place of silence, the place where words fail.

This is where doubts go to die.

This is how the dream becomes the inevitable.

This is the Bodhi tree.

This is victorious surrender.

This is ...

This is yes.

Mr. Sleepy Checks In

2010-05-16T00:07:00.003-05:00

I spent a little time today going over old posts, and you know, I really put a lot of time and thought into some of them.

I don't know if those days will come back. I don't know if I'll feel that old compulsion, that need to put thoughts into words. Not to that extent at least.

But I hope I never lose it altogether.

***

Been listening to John Legend today. This guy is really flippin' good. I got his Evolver yesterday (thanks Ken). He's got a real talent for R&B, and though he's clearly well-versed in the old school approach, he updates the sound nicely with modern rhythms and production.

***

The spiritual quest never ends. It just never does. I suppose I'll never stop seeking answers.

***

Kelli, my ex-wife, graduated with her Master's degree from SMU today. I need to ask her specifically, but I believe it's in ancient history. She worked hard for years on her studies and her thesis, and I have all confidence that she is truly an expert in her field now. Congratulations, Kelli Dee.

***

The Rangers have lost a couple of ugly games to the Jays. But hey, bad baseball beats no baseball.

***

I was lost in a moment tonight.

And then it happened again.

And again.

Don't dare pinch me.

For Sale: Field of Dreams

2010-05-14T09:24:00.001-05:00

Is this Heaven?

Lines

2010-05-11T09:05:00.005-05:00

I was born on August 29, 1968. To some people, that would seem like a long time ago. To others, not so much. I feel different ways on different days.

I wish I could see some sort of a graphic of my life. Maybe a map or a globe. Something showing a line of where I've gone in my almost 42 years. Zipping around Texas, occasionally across the nation or even the globe.

***

THEGIRL found a packet of herb seeds a couple weeks ago. We made a little row in the dirt outside my apartment and planted them. We're slowly starting to see little plants emerge. I hope they're herbs, but they could turn out to be weeds.

So the lovely Miss Renee' gave her a few more seed packets: cucumbers, and three types of squash.

We borrowed ex-wife's hoe, raked out as many rocks as we could, and made a stab at creating a little garden. I mixed in a little potting soil, but I really don't know if we'll end up with any veggies out of this. It'll be fun trying though.

***

I had a whim to watch the trains go by yesterday. I dropped off the kids and headed over to the Hurst Bell train stop, where I spent so many mornings awaiting my ride to my job for Belo. Five years after I left that place, the line takes me back to that train stop.

I really didn't know what led me there. Still don't. But I figured I'd sit on a bench and watch one or two trains come and go.

I arrived between trains, with none due any time soon as far as I could tell. It was a cool, comfortable morning though, so I didn't mind sitting there, doing a bunch of nothing.

Suddenly I caught a glimpse of that telltale light. A train was coming. That stop is right next to a railroad crossing, and soon the arms came down and the bells rang.

And--ZOOM! The train blew through there at maybe 60 miles per hour, not even slowing down. The wind gust nearly blew my ball cap off, and I just had to laugh.

I left.

***

I watched the movie High Fidelity again for the first time in quite a while. Many people who saw that back in the day commented on how much Rob, the main character, is like me. I believed it.

Watching it again, though, I was struck differently. I was once like that, but I'm not anymore. There's an undercurrent of anger and doubt in that character which I no longer have.

It still made me howl with laughter here and there.

***

Racing thoughts plague some people while they're trying to sleep. I've certainly dealt with them myself. I used to try to draw an infinity sign in my head over and over to combat this, and it helped.

Racing thoughts seem to be sort of scattershot to me, even if they're connected. It's like trying to sleep during a fireworks show. I think too many parts of the brain are being lit up to relax and ease into slumber. I decided to create an exercise that is focused and linear.

The infinity sign seemed too simple, frankly. People come to a counselor with pretty lofty expectations, and a short answer to a nagging problem isn't received so well.

("Stop it! That'll be five dollars...")

So, I tell them to imagine that the pharaoh has died, and that they've been tasked to wrap the mummy. Using one piece of gauze, they are to imagine how they'd wrap the mummy, head to toe. And once they're done, they realized they've omitted something, so they have to unwrap him, following the same route. And so on.

Some come back to me saying this was a big help, and some politely tell me I'm nuts.

***

I draw fewer lines in the sand these days, but they're deeper.

***

Y'all take care.

Daily Meditation for May 4

2010-05-04T18:23:00.001-05:00

Validity

A river new--
Ancient words unneeded.
See, touch, rushing beauty,
Drink crystal flow.

When we stand on the banks of a river, we must realize that it is constantly new. Although we might say that it was running long before we were born, its exact configuration--the particular currents, the way it flows around rocks, the shape of its banks, the paths of fish in its depths--is subtly unique at any given moment. To know the river, we only need to experience it directly: to touch it, to swim it, to contemplate it, to drink it. The same is true of Tao.

Tao is ever flowing. Although it was present since the beginning of time and though many have experienced it, it is here for us to explore today. Touch it. Swim it. Contemplate it. Drink it. If you have touched Tao, you should harbor no doubt about it, nor should you wonder that you need scripture to confirm it.

[From 365 Tao Daily Meditations by Deng Ming-Dao]

Scattered Moments

2010-04-30T21:03:00.003-05:00

A young man in Hurst held a cardboard sign at 8am today as I headed out for supervision.

It read:

"Ninjas killed my family. Need money for vengeance."

***

My daughter was my little shadow this evening. She played on the front steps as I strummed my guitar. We played little games too, and she lectured me frequently.

She started going on about Ghostbusters, explaining that it's sort of scary, but sort of funny.

"It kind of freaks me out," she said sternly.

***

Later on, she started writing out random musical notes on blank pieces of paper. Eighth notes and sixteenth notes.

She asked me to play them so she'd know what they sounded like.

I busted out "Stairway to Heaven," and let me tell you, she was mighty pleased with her composition.

***

You know, I am one very happy man these days.

Y'all have a good weekend.

The Office Redux

2010-04-30T18:20:00.005-05:00

Take a look and see what all the rearranging and decorating have produced.

I like this place better than I like my apartment!

Nude Dragons

2010-04-29T22:10:00.002-05:00

I recommend that you Soundgarden fans roll this while reading. The band sounds good! I'm pretty excited about their return.

Rock rock rock!

***

Terrific day here. I worked all day on getting the counseling office at the church rearranged and decorated. Much of the day was spent moving furniture around. I'm kind of hardheaded (don't gasp) in that I pretty much feel that I can move furniture of any size unassisted.

Lo and behold, I was right.

So after the furniture was arranged more suitably, the lovely Renee joined me to decorate the place and make it more comfortable in general. Pillows, art, candles and tweaks to the setup really made an immeasurable difference in the appearance of that office. I must say that I'm quite pleased and excited about that office now. I still need at least one more lamp.

***

My work at Mindful Directions in Grapevine continues to go well. I run a social anxiety group there on Wednesday evenings. It looks like one or two individual clients are also about to materialize for me.

***

The plan, then, looks something like this:

I'll work some at Mindful Directions and some at the church. I've applied to be a Medicaid provider, and if I get that, I am hopeful that this will mean a steady source of referrals.

***

I should write about the whole Louisiana experience perhaps, though I must admit that it kind of gets stuck when I try to.

I think my favorite moment from the whole thing was my great aunt Beverly's rendition of "Amazing Grace" at the funeral. She sang the first verse in that beautiful voice of hers, and then announced, "Well, that's all I know. I hope that's good enough."

And she had a seat.

***

My second favorite moment, though, was probably at the car rental place. There'd been some sort of computer hiccup regarding my reservation, and it took forever for them to straighten it out.

I chose my car, put my suitcase in it, and climbed into Amanda and Eddie's car with them to call Shirley and straighten out our plans.

When we were done, I headed to my car only to find a big strappin' dude in sunglasses and his female companion putting bags in my car.

"Hey, my bag was in that car," I said.

"It don't matter," he said to me as he continued to load his bags.

With mixture of bemusement, astonishment, and a pinch of "what the French, toast?!?" I asked him, "Whoa... you're going to TAKE my CAR??"

That stopped him in his tracks. He explained that he thought I'd already returned the car, and that I'd mistakenly left my bag in it.

We got it straightened out and headed to Pontchatoula.

***

Our meal at Middendorf's was mighty good, I must say. I love those meals where you feel like they just dumped everything in the cast net into the Fry Daddy.

***

Did I mention that I'm pretty pumped about how the office looks?

***

Some songs I've been playing on my guitar lately:

"Me and Billy the Kid," by Joe Ely. Man, it's hard to strum that one correctly while singing it. I have to resist the urge to turn it into a polka.

"If You Were a Bluebird," also by Joe Ely. Gorgeous little song, and I figure I don't sing it any worse than Butch Hancock.

"Hey There Delilah," by the Plain White Ts. The kids asked me to learn this one tonight. It's easy, and they sing along. I've always liked this little song, though again, I have to resist the urge to make it a polka.

***

So can anyone tell me what guitar Kim Thayil is playing in that video? Looks like a Gibson SG, but I could swear the headstock reads "Guild."

***

I may sell my Jimmie Vaughan Strat soon. If you know anyone's who's interested give me a holler. It's got great action, and it has always intonated very well.

***

The kids and I had a terrific meal with Miss Renee tonight at Miguelito's in Hurst. Thank you, Renee!

***

I've been messing around with mole (the Mexican sauce) lately. I made some really good chicken mole a few days ago. Yesterday I made perhaps the world's first boca mole sandwich. I'm fond of those meatless "Boca" brand patties. It tasted pretty good.

"Boca" happens to be Spanish for "mouth," by the way, and that's exactly where I put my boca mole sandwich.

***

BB's current therapy: "technologic" by Daft Punk.

***

I should hit the sheets. G'night.

My iPod Mix for Puttering at the Church

2010-04-28T12:09:00.002-05:00

Heading to the church to move some furniture, test some audio gear, etc. And these are the tunes that will accompany me today. Yes, I'm this much of a dork.

***

Love And Happiness 5:04 Al Green

Paradise 4:16 Alejandro Escovedo

Ballad Of The Sun & The Moon 4:32 Alejandro Escovedo

Grind 4:46 Alice In Chains

Again 4:05 Alice In Chains

I Stay Away 4:14 Alice In Chains

It's Not My Cross To Bear 4:57 The Allman Brothers Band

Dreams 7:15 The Allman Brothers Band

Do Me Right 3:18 Asie Payton

Kiss The Sun 3:55 The Atomic Bitchwax

Set It Off (Live BBC Radio 1 Session) 4:00 Audioslave

Here Comes The Sun 3:06 The Beatles

Golden Slumbers 1:32 The Beatles

Dear Prudence 3:57 The Beatles

Blackbird 2:18 The Beatles

Across the Universe 3:49 The Beatles

Love You To 3:01 The Beatles

And Your Bird Can Sing 2:02 The Beatles

It's Too Late 4:04 Bob Mould

Stop Your Crying 4:32 Bob Mould

Sacrifice/Let There Be Peace 5:34 Bob Mould

Paralyzed 3:55 Bob Mould

Don't Hold Back 3:15 The Chemical Brothers

Lágrimas Negras 7:12 Conjunto Céspedes

Crystal Method - Sidewinder 4:53

technologic 4:44 Daft Punk

Learn to Fly 3:55 Foo Fighters

Midnight Rider 4:27 Gregg Allman

Killing Floor (1964 Single Version) 2:51 Howlin' Wolf

Classic Girl 5:08 Jane's Addiction

Cause We Ve Ended As Lovers 5:17 Jeff Beck

Contrabando Y Traicion 2:41 Los Cuatitos Cantu

Sexual Healing 3:59 Marvin Gaye

I Am Ahab 2:46 Mastodon

California Blues (Blue Yodel # 4) 2:50 Merle Haggard

My Own Kind Of Hat 2:55 Merle Haggard

Beautiful 3:10 Moby

Flower 3:26 Moby

I Love To Move In Here 4:45 Moby

Porcelain 4:01 Moby

We Are All Made Of Stars 3:17 Moby

In This World 4:03 Moby

In My Heart 4:37 Moby

Bittersweet Symphony (Remix) 3:26 Moby

Moby - Go (best remix) 4:24 Moby

Natural Blues 4:13 Moby

Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad 4:25 Moby

Rainforest Mix (Techno Rave) 3:57 Moby

Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad 6:42 Moby

Moby & Enya - Sail Away (Trance Remix) 4:01

Moby & Gwen Steffani - South Side 3:50

A Change Is Gonna Come 3:41 Neville Brothers

Slit Skirts 5:02 Pete Townshend

Open Car 3:47 Porcupine Tree

Your Unpleasant Family 1:48 Porcupine Tree

Time Flies 11:41 Porcupine Tree

I Drive the Hearse 6:45 Porcupine Tree

Even Less 7:12 Porcupine Tree

Black Mattie 2:06 R.L. Burnside

The Picture 3:29 Son Volt

Searching With My Good Eye Closed

Good Morning 2:34 The Streetwalkin' Cheetas

March Of The Lor 4:41 The Sword

Ain't Leavin' Your Love 2:52 Townes Van Zandt

Woman 2:56 Wolfmother

Your Dictionary 3:15 XTC

Senses Working Overtime 4:35 XTC

The Wild Bunch

2010-04-27T15:03:00.002-05:00

(Left to right... more or less... Roger, Steven, Gwen, Eddie, Amanda, Beverly, BB, Stephanie, Shirley, Rob, and Gene. Taken Saturday before the funeral)

Well...

2010-04-27T12:32:00.003-05:00

I have a lot to say, a lot on my mind.

It seems stuck though.

It'll come. I hope.

Solar Storms Could Be Earth's Next Katrina

2010-04-25T12:38:00.001-05:00

From Louisiana

2010-04-24T11:37:00.001-05:00

I'm in Ponchatoula for my grandmother's funeral. She passed away peacefully in her sleep last week.

It's been a good trip. Headed home tonight.

Y'all take care.

...

2010-04-23T08:46:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I can barely hear it whispering, and sometimes it sings to me ever so sweetly.

Time Flies

2010-04-21T20:18:00.003-05:00

It's been a good week so far for yours truly.

If you know me at all, you probably know that I'm darn near obsessive about the British band Porcupine Tree.

I've wanted to see them for years. They came through a few years back when I was in grad school, but I think it was in October sometime, and mid-terms made it impossible for me to go.

So when they announced a Dallas date on their current tour for the brilliant The Incident, I simply had to go. I asked around, and soon a PT posse of Toland, Leigh, and Bond assembled.

We had a fine little dinner gathering here at the Ponderosa beforehand. Along with the aforementioned PT posse, Renee' came, as well as her daughter Megan and her boyfriend Josh. We whipped up some pasta, played some guitar, and generally had a loose, relaxed time.

(Thank you again, everyone, for sharing a meal and hanging out).

***

The four of us made it to the House of Blues in time to catch most of Bigelf, a thudding quartet built around Mellotron, Orange amps, and... beards. Really though, I kinda dug 'em, even if I did keep expecting them to bust out with "Highway Star."

***

Porcupine Tree took the stage shortly after a voice on the PA warned us that no photographs were allowed.

Steven Wilson et al did The Incident just about in its entirety. I personally love that CD, and the band's obvious dedication to putting on a good show made it pretty electrifying.

The second half of the show was devoted to material from the rest of their catalog. Honestly, this is a band that could probably play for four hours and still not satisfy every fan. They've been around for a lot of years, and have put out a lot of good songs, many of which are rather long. I enjoyed hearing "Way Out of Here," "Sentimental," "Lazarus," "The Sound of Muzak," and of course, "Trains." I wish they would have played "Open Car" or especially "Arriving Somewhere," but man, it's hard to complain about a show as good as that one.

And you know, the band seemed to really enjoy themselves. They've been touring for quite some time now, yet were cutting up onstage with little magic tricks. Wilson also mentioned that their short set at Coachella had left them "constipated," so they were glad to be able to have some musical release.

(Oh you knew I'd take some pics, didn't you?)

***

It was great to catch up with Michael and Leigh yesterday, swapping songs and stories. Easy, as always. Thanks again, everyone. A big thanks to Bond for doing so much of the legwork to make this happen.

Daylight is good at arriving at the right time

2010-04-18T22:02:00.003-05:00

Soundgarden Play Small Seattle Club

2010-04-17T08:21:00.000-05:00

Here is the set list.

Life is good.

Everybody Wins

2010-04-16T23:08:00.002-05:00

I dreamed last night that I had an opportunity to play live with some rock band. I lugged my amp up beside the stage and got ready to go on. For whatever reason, I decided that "Crossroads" by Cream would be a good choice to open with.

(I doubt I'd ever do that one live, btw. It requires too much hot dog soloing).

Anyway, the other guys in the band didn't know it, and kept suggesting all this popular radio fare that I'd never heard, and certainly couldn't play.

I never got to perform.

***

Wolfboy has figured out that he can stretch out bedtime by asking me to play him some songs on the guitar.

I tried out one I've re-learned, "She's Already Made Up Her Mind" by Lyle Lovett. Wolfboy wasn't in the mood. "Delia's Gone" was nixed as well.

I whipped out a quick verse/chorus from "Gimme Three Steps," and although he paid attention, he proclaimed that it wasn't rock 'n' roll.

He's grounded until he's 30.

Anyway, I played some of Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" and "Iron Man" before knocking out an abbreviated "Copperhead Road" (Steve Earle, for those of you keeping score at home) and sending him to bed. He seemed to enjoy it (the song, not the going to bed part).

Everybody wins.

***

Someday I want to post a list of songs I'd do if I were performing.

If any of you are musicians, I'd certainly like to hear your potential set list. Stuff YOU'D want to play.

***

Headed to bed soon. Maybe in tonight's dream I'll actually get to pick a little.

***

My dad has an interesting blog. As I write this, I can't recall if I've linked to it on this page. Surely I have. Anyway, if you don't see a link, look up Gulf Coast Boy. Some really good storytelling from the Briscoe patriarch.

***

Good night.

I hear music

2009-10-05T09:42:00.000-05:00

Just a quick note to march out an idea that keeps rolling around in my head.

Do y'all remember several months ago when I was asking folks how much of the time there was either music playing around them or music going through their mind? Does this ring a bell? I started taking that informal poll because it is 100% for me. Easily. And I had no idea that we're not all like that. It's just background radio for me. If I get up to use the bathroom overnight, there's a song in my head between the bed and the bathroom.

I've met a few other folks like that, so I know I'm not alone. But I've met others who say that maybe 25% of the time there's music. WOW.

I remember being a little boy, and just losing myself in the music on the radio, or maybe in the songs on the record player. At age 3 I could change the 45s on the turntable.

I remember sitting in the back of my mother's car, listening to music and wondering what I was hearing. What are those instruments? Are they playing this right now? Again? What do performers look like? For as long as I can remember I dissected the songs.

And now, when I'm in the car with my kids, they usually just talk over the music. I'm still singing along, still feeling the impact of lyrics, and they're talking away about whatever. It's so wholly different, and I don't get it. It frustrates me sometimes, I must admit. But my experience is not their experience. I figure somewhere within that difference lies a thesis, but not for me. At least not anytime soon.

Guy Clark, "Dublin Blues"

2009-07-10T22:36:00.000-05:00

All

2009-07-06T23:52:00.001-05:00

those years I spent hunched over my little Macs, plugging away on Juke so faithfully... nodding off sometimes, or aching inside from some character I'd killed off...

***

those years I blogged about... what? Why in the world did anyone read all that?

***

those years when I technically had a mother, and she never asked. Never asked how the kids were, how I was, anything. I had a moment this weekend when I wanted to send her photos of her grandchildren, to let her see them. It passed.

***

those love songs with those lyrics that mean so much to me. Like this one from Imperial Drag's "Illuminate"

"But no matter what I believe in love. So there--I said it."

***

those years when I wish I'd seen things more clearly. Why did I wait so long?

***

of almost 88 years my grandmother has lived. I spoke to her on the phone today, and she has outlived her body and her mind. She really is all but gone.

***

of the years I lost when not speaking to my aunt, just gone. It's good to reconnect now, but I wish it hadn't been the way it was.

***

the vivid dreams I had, like the one in which I begged my grandmother not to marry my grandfather.

***

this time spent on school and licensure and chasing hours and whatnot sometimes causes me to briefly lose sight of what I wanted when I started: Private practice. The wheels are spinning again.

***

the things I wish I could say to you.

Saturday Night's All Right for Loafin'

2009-06-27T22:21:00.000-05:00

“Wanderlust” is a great word. Just great.

***

You know, has anyone put out a great baseball song since Fogerty’s “Centerfield” in the mid-80s? I can’t think of one. Aren’t we due?

***

I got a used $3.99 MVP Baseball game for the PS2 I got Wolfboy. I’m not very good at it. Tonight I think my performance got about as good as it’s gonna get; I lost to the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, 10-9.

***

I still think someone should write an epic poem about the marriage of salsa and cheese.

***

Work is good, but not easy. Is there a more challenging population to counsel? Prison inmates maybe? Iraqi veterans?

After dealing with the size and scope of the presenting issues I see on East Lancaster, man, I’d be happy to talk to some student who needs help with test anxiety, let me tell you.

***

Tomorrow is my friend Sammie’s farewell wingding at the church. Follow your bliss, sister, but please don’t disappear from my life.

***

I want to train again. I’m looking into it.

***

Life goes pretty well in general I’d say. I’m not here at my apartment much, yet they still expect me to pay the rent. Odd.

***

We’re social creatures. I mean… look at us. Separated by physical distance, yet clamoring to socialize online. It’s like being in a giant room with LOTS of people you know. You can tell them what’s up, ask them what’s up, play songs for them, play games with them, be available to chat… interesting.

***

You should see the movie Big Bad Love,, but not if you’re kinda down.

***

I’m tired. Man, I may be in bed by 11pm on a Saturday night.

Y’all take care.

A grad school paper I found

2009-06-18T16:42:00.001-05:00

Two days after a man at a health fair ranted at me about Italian coffee and the Book of Revelations, I had the good fortune to attend a lecture by Michael Nye, photographer for Fine Line: Mental Health/Mental Illness.

I'd seen the exhibit some weeks before. It's a collection of several dozen photographs of people with varying types of mental illnesses: bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, depression, etc. And addiction. Addiction is almost always mentioned (a point Nye underscored in his lecture).

Each photograph is accompanied by a four or five minute audio narrative. For me, the audio was the element that lent real power to this exhibit. We're often dismissive of the mentally ill when we encounter them. On the streets we feel endangered, or in our homes or businesses they are an embarrassment or a distraction.

In each narrative emerged a voice that often gets dismissed. Young, old, either gender, any ethnicity. And so many of them sound quite normal, for lack of a better word. We could really use a better word.

Jerry self-medicates with alcohol to calm the voices he hears. His parents put him in "a mental hospital" when he was six. He fights and goes to jail a lot. If he has a fight, he's pleased even if he loses. "At least someone took the effort and the time to whoop me," he says.

Richard has a dramatic lilt in his voice yet speaks of chromosomes and neurotransmitters as the origin of his problem. I find myself wishing I could converse with him.

Joe wishes he'd been a truck driver. Would I want him on the road? He's now homeless and hears voices.

Anna has some sort of phobia regarding the end of the world. How did 9/11 and Katrina affect her?

Carolyn says, "I render myself unconscious as a way of treading water." She looks like a relative of mine.

Molly wears a leopard-print coat just like my grandmother's.

Many of them don't remember pivotal episodes that got them sent away in police cars or registered as inpatients.

Nye was funny and candid as he addressed the audience in the small auditorium at the science center. He spoke about the difficulty he had getting the project underway, getting past confidentiality. When he first began to present his material, he "could barely say 'mental health or schizophrenia'," he said. "I've come a long way."

At the end of the discussion the hands shot up. Some from this roomful of advocates and mental health professionals merely wanted to thank him. Others wanted to know how to help him get information, this information, out there to malls, Washington DC, state government, wherever. These people understood the intrinsic value of making this exhibit more widely available. Nye graciously invited some of them to come see him after the lecture.

I didn't dismiss the man who ranted at me at the health fair. I paid attention to him, and I remember a nurse in another booth telling me he lives in a shack on some neighborhood property. He's a Vietnam veteran, proudly claims that he doesn't drink, yet is belligerent, and given a wide berth wherever he goes. And as he spoke, I just found myself thinking, you're important. You count too.

[Advanced Abnormal Psychology, Fall, 2006]

Some Gris Gris for Ya

2009-05-28T15:41:00.001-05:00

I'm the fool who scaled a six-foot iron fence on Memorial Day, only realizing at the very top that (A) I'm 40 and probably too old for this crap, and (B) those sharp iron spikes could cause some real damage.

Luckily I landed safely on the other side. I was determined to work out. I'm trying (oh yes I am, Whit) to get back in gear. I've lost a chunk of stamina that I'd like to have back.

***

My aunt Shirley is doing well in her recovery from surgery Tuesday, I'm told.

***

This has been my busiest counseling month so far. This morning in supervision, as I review the cases from my 7 individual clients, my two (thus far) at my day job, and my three (and possibly soon four) groups that I run or co-facilitate, my supervisor asked me, "When are you not working?"

Oh.

Good point. She suggests that I'm a candidate for burnout, and she's probably right. I'm going to take a hard look at my schedule and set aside some free time each week for me.

***

The new day job is a real adventure, and I'm enjoying it so far. I'm learning a lot, and I'm making mistakes here and there. I can't talk about clients, of course, but you know, I'm getting the kind of stories that will stick with me for years, believe me.

***

Tomorrow would have been my 16th wedding anniversary. Technically we'll make it, though we're living apart, of course.

***

And as of Monday I'll have a new extraordinary chicken to admire on my calendar.

***

Yesterday THEGIRL won the only "art achievement" certificate handed out at the awards ceremony. Wolfboy had the highest number of points for reading in his grade. There were many good, accomplished readers present whose scores he had doubled or more.

My kids!

***

Gotta scoot. Y'all take care.

Lookin' Out My Back Door

2009-05-07T13:12:00.001-05:00

"For a manfromTexas! Create a happy family! With a Russian bride!" That's what the advertisement on the side of this page reads as I type this.

***

Things are moving along okay here. Things are peaceful, amicable. That's about all I'll say regarding my impending divorce at this moment.

***

Having the kids over to my place is enjoyable, yet still a challenge in many ways. Sunday night I had us all sleep in my king-size bed.

See, technically there IS space enough for the three of us in that bed. You know, if we all stay in our places and share nicely.

But what happens is that THEGIRL, when she's not beating the bejeebers out of me with her knees and elbows, gravitates towards me. I put off heat, and maybe she just gravitates that way to keep warm. So all night long I have this munchkin right up against my back.

Last night I tried a new approach. I put them in the big bed, and I "slept" on the air mattress.

Sigh.

Ruffles potato chips don't have as many ridges as this stupid thing. And it's got a "built-in pillow." That means it's got this distended bit at the end where your head goes. But it's just wrong. Wrong size, wrong angle... I woke up with such a pain in my neck. Oy.

***

But I'm holding up okay.

***

God bless Creedence Clearwater Revival.

***

I'm a busy boy, and frustrated by the fact that my place is a wreck and that stuff I need is inevitably packed away in some box somewhere.

Everyone has been terrific and kind though. I have been given terrific stuff like furniture and kids' toys, and folks have lent their time and energy to help me get into my new place. And the moral support has been beyond belief. One of the greatest lessons I'm taking from this transition is what it really means when someone has your back.

***

My friend Angie has this posted on eBay: http://cgi.ebay.com/RAREST-JIMI-HENDRIX-AUTOGRAPH-on-WOODSTOCK-PROGRAM-1969_W0QQitemZ130303822552QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item1e56b68ad8&_trksid=p3286..m20.l1116

If you buy it, I want to look at it.

***

In case you hadn't heard, I'm changing jobs within my agency. After 2.5 years working to help clients enroll in state benefits such as CHIP, Medicaid, Food Stamps and more, I'm moving to a new program that will help the homeless. I'll get to do a lot of drug and alcohol counseling, which is why I got into counseling in the first place. It'll get me my internship hours quickly, and it'll be a real challenge. I start May 18.

***

On the way to work this morning I was listening to a bootleg of the Who in Dallas, August of 2000. Kelli was pregnant with Wolfboy. I remember what a great show that was, and how I had this immediate sense that they were NOT just jerking around; they came to prove something. Great show, and a solid bootleg.

I worked for Yahoo at that time. So much has changed. Two kids now, a divorce... after Yahoo I went into commercial TV, then changed career paths altogether. I wish I knew then what I know now.

Y'all take care.

Humility

2009-05-01T22:07:00.000-05:00

I'm strong. I'm determined. I will succeed in this new chapter in my life.

Kelli and the kids are gone to Corsicana, leaving me time and space to pack my stuff and get out.

It's just Ringo and the radio and me. Lots of work to do, but nothing to worry about.

Until I found a bottle of Ativan in the cabinet.

Just typing that gives me chills. If you're not familiar with it, it's an anxiolytic, a benzodiazepine, and above all, highly addictive.

And fun.

Shaking my head.

I didn't expect this. Me, all alone, no one to know what in the world I'm up to, no one to answer to...

It sang to me so beautifully.

I put my head against the door frame there in the bathroom and listened to it.

I thought of three or four people I should maybe call.

After about two minutes, I walked into the yard, opened the bottle, and pitched all of those tiny pills into the grass.

I am before you now, giving thanks to my maker for giving me strength right now, in my hour of need. I passed the test.

Onward.

Hell in a handbasket

2009-04-24T21:33:00.002-05:00

My kids won't eat biscuits if they are buttered. They want jelly only.

Yet they will eat butter straight out of those tiny tubs you get in restaurants.

***

I met a young man recently who talked to me about a Guns 'n' Roses song. I asked him what album it's on. "Album? It's just a G 'n' R track. I don't know."

Ah... this is life in the MP3 era.

***

He also called me "sir" repeatedly, which was equal parts disturbing and... appropriate. Dang.

***

Most of the young men I see today would be met by yours truly with a loaded firearm if they came to my house to pick up my daughter for a date.

"I have no problem going BACK to prison."

Heh heh.

***

Paramore? Is this really the name of a "punk" band??

***

I watched a young man in the parking lot by my office berating a young woman who clearly aimed to get in her car and drive off without him.

"Fine, I'ma just get anothuh one o' my hoes to come get me!" He yelled at her.

Let me just say that if you're really such a pimp, sir, you probably own your own car.

***

Another young man told me he has a hard time sitting through two Who songs in a row.

What?? Ack! Blasphemy.

***

But I actually don't mind Kanye West.

***

Good night.

Couple Notes About My Kids

2009-04-14T22:03:00.001-05:00

Couple days ago THEGIRL invited me into her room for a private picnic.

I sat down and saw a pink plate covered with little girl stuff (hair ties, tiny toys, etc). A princess doll stood on either side of the plate.

I picked one up: "Who is this princess?"

"That's not a princess. That's your drink."

Ooooooh. The little things were all supposed to be food. Got it.

So she'd point out something and instruct me to "eat" it. The little pieces of styrofoam were celery.

"Yuck! I don't like celery!" I said.

I picked up one of the plastic bugs on the plate. "What's this?"

"That's a sandwich," she said.

"Oh, okay," I said, pretending to nibble. "What kind of sandwich is this?"

"A bug sandwich."

***

I picked up Wolfboy today, and he asked me what I know about French. Not much, I explained, though my great grandfather, Pierre Poursine, was a Frenchman.

I asked Wolfboy why.

He explained that there's a new kid in class who speaks only French. I asked if he's from France, or maybe an African country.

Wolfboy said he's African. He then told me that he wanted an English/French dictionary so he can talk to the new boy.

We went to the library tonight and checked one out.

I explained to him that this new boy, a second grader from across the globe, is about as far from home as anyone can imagine. He may come from a place where there's war, or where the government doesn't like him because of something like religion or tribal affiliation. I asked Wolfboy if he can imagine how strange this new place where no one really looks like him and no one speaks his language must seem to him.

I have never been prouder of my little boy, and I told him so.

Just a dash of this and a pinch of that

2009-04-07T08:40:00.001-05:00

Good morning.

Rangers won 9-1 in their opener yesterday (which thankfully wasn't on the road for once). They lit up Cliff Lee pretty badly. I gather Lee looked awful in spring training as well. I imagine the Indians should be concerned about their Cy Young winner. Do I recall that he was 22-3 last season?

***

BB's current therapy: Death is this Communion by High on Fire.

***

I started my new group last night. I was supposed to start next week, but that got changed. That is, everyone was informed that it'd be changing except yours truly, who got the call only a few hours prior. But that's okay. This ain't my first rodeo.

It went well. I'm excited.

***

Work tends to be extremely busy lately. Our Refugee Services department makes steady referrals to us, so I'm often in the middle of some Food Stamps and/or Medicaid stuff with clients.

***

My work computer has died, so I've got my trusty, road-worn iBook here to get me by.

***

And... I wanted to say thank you. You know who you are.

***

Happy Tuesday.

Car Stuff Mostly

2009-03-27T23:54:00.000-05:00

I slept with Wolfboy again last night. He elbowed me in the eye as he turned over, but he's not that big. It didn't hurt much.

***

We bought a car. I take some pride in being able to negotiate, given proper time and circumstances. Several things worked in our favor this time. For starters, we managed to turn our '98 Buick LeSabre into a $3000 down payment, and that helped. That thing was worth $500 maybe, and every time it went 100 yards I was thankful.

I'll spare you the whole story. We got an '07 Nissan Versa.

I don't have buyer's remorse, though I'm not particularly excited either. It's MOBB's car anyway. I'm happy for her.

***

Reading Whit's blog, I'm mighty doggone thankful, again, that the wreck wasn't worse. The suddenness of it all is what's really frightening. No time to react, no choice, nothing to do but stomp the brakes and hold on.

***

Ringo is currently chewing on a plastic hanger.

At least he's cute.

***

It's been another busy crazy, crazy busy week. I think about half of my friends are convinced I'm ignoring them, and the other half are just convinced I'm a jackass. I email them and get responses like "THERE you are!"

Driving to pick up THEGIRL last night, ostensibly to head up to Corinthe to buy a car, I got about a dozen texts from MOBB about the awful better biz bureau ranking the dealer we were about to see had. That was when texts from Whit about the wreck came in. Mix in a handful of random "What's up" stuff from friends and man, I just got overwhelmed.

We had a deal worked out to buy a used Civic for a great price from a Porsche dealership, but it fell through over a $500 fee.

***

Grubbs Nissan here in Bedford did right by us.

***

Baseball season starts a week from Monday.

***

Time to crash. Good night.

Here's What I Can Tell You

2009-03-26T22:10:00.001-05:00

We thought, THOUGHT we knew where to look for a car, but discovered at the last minute that this place had an F rating with the Better Biz Bureau.

So we came home and had tilapia.

***

I worked the dealers against each other tonight, finally getting a deal from a place in Plano that made the place one city over shake their heads and surrender.

***

The place in Plano has no grade at all, but at least no F.

***

"Can I ask you a personal question?" asked my aunt.

Of course...

***

Friends ask me to counsel them, and I have to tell them no. "But I trust you!" they say.

I refer them out.

I refer out couples too.

***

I want to see a counselor. I want to talk about a few things.

I may just be the very worst type of client.

***

Being a counselor, by the way, is like having to be sober twice.

***

I'm in my comfortable pajama pants.

***

Wolfboy begs me to sleep with him, night after night. I often do. Tonight I will.

***

We have this big bag of oranges. Oranges? Tangerines? Clementines? Something. Small little orange fruits. Two of every three are sour, but that third one... wow.

***

I remember Brendon in the elevator, eating oranges out of a grocery bag before he even got back to his desk, big grin on his face: "Try one! They're SO sweet!"

He's in Uganda now.

***

"I am everywhere."

***

I genuinely like having Ringo around. We play. He gives me big belly laughs every day.

***

Whit wrecked his car. No... I gather some schmo darted out in front of him and wrecked it FOR him.

I'm glad the family is okay.

***

Peace.

High

2009-03-17T22:33:00.001-05:00

Decades ago I worked with this guy named Stephen. Tall, decent looking, ponytail, guitarist... He once told me that he thinks he feels the same way sober that most people feel while high.

I tried to get him to sell me some mushrooms, but we never got around to it.

***

I've got a whole lot of "friends" on here, though some aren't friends at all. Some are gyms or fighters or musicians or whomever.

One of those folks is a bigtime marijuana proponent, in spite of his accomplishments. Drives me nuts when he says stuff in his status like "I'm gonna smoke a bowl." I think I'm going to un-friend him.

***

Not that I never smoked grass. Last time: New Year's Eve, 1986.

***

But I've got a few "last" dates in my sordid history.

My last "last" date was in February of '04.

That's when THEGIRL was born. She's my little sobriety baby.

***

One of my friends has photos up right now, new ones, where she looks like she's doing shots.

Other friends have all of these drinking pictures.

I envy normal folks.

***

Your job, if you know someone in recovery, is to always keep a little disbelief in you. It's the best thing you can do for yourself and the addict you love.

Always, ALWAYS leave room for the possibility that they are not clean. Addicts are terrific liars. It's just part of it. It's self-disclosure. No I couldn't have told you the truth, and I'm hesitant to now even though you caught me red-handed... I couldn't admit how awful this is even to myself, so how could you expect me to admit it to you?

I've begun to realize lately that the longer I'm clean, the harder it is for me to lie. I guess I should be proud of that.

***

Once in a great while I get the question. A sleepy BB bears some resemblance to a stoned BB. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were on something."

Good. I mean... BAD. Bad to be the person who by all rights deserves this. But it's good to be questioned, because it means you care. And it's good that I'm telling the truth. Clean time becomes this precious thing after a while. The idea of blowing it becomes overwhelming.

***

My last drink was August 17, 1995. I stuck to the medicine cabinet for almost 9 years after that to get my thrills.

No one told me that I'd have drinking dreams after I gave up alcohol. No one told me about the dreams in which you casually toss a few back, then wake up with this horrible feeling: Dear God--I've wrecked it all, I've... wait... it was only a dream.

Ever had a dream in which you have some overpowering emotion, and it sticks with you the whole next day? This is also that type of dream.

***

I had that dream Saturday night. In the dream, I had a beer. It was no big deal.

I didn't wake up feeling bad about it. This is not foreshadowing, this is not drama. I just... knew it was a dream. I consider this to be an improvement.

No one can ever say they have this thing licked, okay, but I think I'm about as close as one can get. I just really don't think I could ever do it again.

***

At a Lutheran church many years ago, during communion I grabbed the wine instead of the juice. It was like having a siren go off in my head as soon as I tasted it. I calmly walked straight to the restroom, spat it in the sink, and washed out my mouth.

***

I'm going to be okay.

Happy Good Day

2009-03-17T10:40:00.001-05:00

Okay, my dates were off... not sure what I called that last post "BELATED..."

Anyway...

***

Had a fine breakfast taco from the Fiesta this morning. Have I mentioned that I love it when Mexicans speak to me in Spanish first? It’s one of the perks of being just a little bit dark I guess. The server and I were on about equal footing language-wise. As I left, she said with a smile, “Happy good day!”

***

Ever watch batters getting ready to step into the batter’s box, as they take some practice swings? They often have this little weight called a “donut” on their bat. It gives resistance, prepares them for swinging hard. I guess the idea is that once the weight is off, the bat will feel lighter when they’re facing live pitching.

That’s what playing the Les Paul is like. It fights me. It resists me. I have to muscle it into sounding good, into giving me something. And if I go straight from the Les Paul to the Strat, the notes just fly out of my fingers.

I still want to put new pickups in the LP though.

***

We’re car shopping. From the back seat during a test drive the other day, Wolfboy asked, “Dad, what are these levers on the doors?”

“Son, this car doesn’t have power windows. Those are for rolling the windows up and down.”

***

My shoulder is very slowly getting better. But I walked out of session the other day and suddenly had bad pain in my knee. It lasted a few hours. As of yesterday afternoon, it felt great, like it had been miraculously cured.

***

Speaking of sessions, let me tell you that it’s absolutely great when clients start to get better. Do you realize that one of the main goals of counseling is to get fired? It’s a funny way of saying it I suppose, but yeah, we want clients to come in at some point and tell us that they’re done, because they don’t need us anymore.

And the client I saw last night is improving. This is an especially difficult case. There’s a lot of work to do yet, but it means the world to me that what we’ve been doing is helping.

***

The kids are in Corsicana this week, hanging with their grandparents. Do grandparents “hang”? I’ll pick them up Friday morning, and we’ll head to Willis, TX for our pseudo-camping trip. That is, we’ll be in a rent house by a lake. They consider this camping. Eh, who am I to burst their bubble?

***

So the house is mighty doggone quiet these days

***

The beard is coming back.

***

BB’s current therapy: “Poles Together” by Pugwash

***

My job requires a lot of travel, and I like that just fine. I’m headed to Glen Rose, Texas in a little while.

***

Happy good day, y’all.

Belated St. Patrick's Day Wishes

2009-03-16T15:06:00.000-05:00

Living, Dying, Surviving

2009-03-05T21:54:00.000-06:00

Some concerned folks called my father today to ask him to check on his neighbor. The fact that the neighbor hadn’t put out his trash or let the dogs out was unusual.

Dad looked through the window and saw that the neighbor had died.

His passing was not unexpected, though Dad is sad nevertheless.

He was clear that this was not like the passing of his friend Mike a few years ago. That one devastated Dad. But Dad had always enjoyed his time with the neighbor, and will miss him.

***

Wolfboy was looking at a CD of mine tonight as we drove to the daycare to pick up THEGIRL. It’s the new Roger Joseph Manning, Jr.

He told me he wanted to hear the song “Survival Machine.”

I cued it up, then took a moment to explain to him that the song, as far as I can tell, is about forgiving Robert Oppenheimer. I went on to tell him what I could about the atomic bomb, and its terrible toll in Japan.

I explained that it’s the most powerful weapon ever used, and that the events of August, 1945 were so catastrophic that even though we have more powerful weapons today, we don’t use them.

The tears streamed down his face as he asked if the bombs had only killed soldiers, or if they’d killed families. He kept asking why we’d do something like that. I said that the USA felt like Japan did not intend to surrender, and that a demonstration of this nation’s ability to devastate them was the only way to force them to do so. He asked me why Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, and I told him what I could.

I also explained that, just like when he and his sister fight, there are two sides to every story, and that the Japanese certainly have their perspective on these events. I told him that one of my favorite people in the world is half-Japanese, and that those events had affected her family profoundly.

And as my boy sat there in the car, not caring in the least about the quarrels between nations, we hugged and cried about the people caught in the middle.

***

The lyrics:

“Survival Machine”

Oppenheimer’s refugees
The greatest minds that science could convene
Welcome home, hail to the chief
He swears his ends will justify your means

Now all you men of great renown
I need your smarts so gather ‘round
Right or wrong it’s our destiny

All I ask is that you try
You’d be saving so many lives
Go forth now invent our vaccine

Survival machine

Trinity in ‘45
The sum of all our fears now quite alive
So in the east a fireworks show
Just to prove at last that God does in fact take sides

A voice cheers through the telephone,
“Now I can bring our boys back home”
You just might have stopped World War Three

But this intellect can’t reconcile
How could our gifts become so vile
Come home lads you’ve set us all free

Bless survival machine

Late one lonely night my soul was given up to flight
A chance to see what happens when love gives way to self defense

Now don’t you worry
You are forgiven now

Come child take my hand
I’ll walk you through our ravaged land
You’ll breathe that fire into your lungs
And feel the heat of a thousand suns

Now don’t be sorry
You are forgiven now

Brothers, sisters pity me
I lost all sense of family
Was blinded by the victory signs
A hero’s welcome in my mind

We know you’re sorry
You are forgiven now

Sunday Morning Weirdness and the BB Tour of Texas '09

2009-02-25T21:48:00.000-06:00

Last Sunday morning, I found myself running TOWARDS a man with a gun, and not away.

Sigh.

Just... line up to call me an idiot. Fine.

We'd left church, and an armed man was running across the parking lot behind the next building. I hustled MOBB and the kids into her car, and they left.

Things got serious in a hurry.

But when everyone else was going elsewhere, I was going towards him. I was... primarily trying to confirm that I'd really seen that.

Anyway, the pastor and some other staffers finally got my attention, and I snapped to. I joined them in the church.

Within minutes Hurst cops showed up with assault rifles. It didn't take long to ascertain that this numbskull was holding a paintball gun, and not a real firearm.

***

Friday morning I went to see Whit in Katy, Texas. I hadn't eaten since breakfast, so I all but inhaled the Tex Mex plate at the joint where we met. Shortly thereafter we attended one of his SWAT meetings. It was good to see his staff and students, as always.

We spent the evening hanging out with his wife and son, who were preparing to leave for a cruise the next morning. Larry was out of town, doing some Krav stuff up in my neck of the woods, coincidentally. Sorry I missed you, amigo.

Saturday morning Whit taught Tai Chi, and I bumbled my way through. Right after that he taught Kung Fu. I REALLY bumbled my way through that. But then it was open mat time, so I pummeled a bag for a while.

We grabbed some Schlotzky's and headed over to the BJJ tournament. Whit's students Mike and Mark were competing. Neither won, though as I explained to Mark, he'd lasted three minutes down there. I'd have lasted about 10 seconds, so my hat is off to him.

Mike lasted the whole five minutes.

That evening we just took it easy. Homeboy actually fell asleep on the couch. He has a reputation for waking up like the ninjas are attacking, so this ninja decided NOT to put his hand in a bowl of warm water.

We watched UFC 95 on Spike, then called it an evening.

***

The next morning we went on a quest for breakfast, ending up with some fine breakfast tacos from the carniceria down the street. We said our goodbyes, and I hit the road for Austin.

***

The Doug was there to greet me as I arrived. We didn't light in the room for long; we were hankerin' for a good meal, so we hit Threadgills. I had some terrific fried oysters. Dad has always loved that place. It's where we had our graduation celebration back when I got my BS in '94.

***

We talked a lot, opening up about all manner of things. That was the whole purpose of this trip. I had questions, he had answers.

The next morning we went guitar shopping. I'm putting together a plan to buy an heirloom-quality instrument in the future. We started at Ray Hennig's Heart of Texas Music. I explained to Dad that this place is an Austin landmark, and that Ray knew Stevie Ray Vaughan.

Honestly, he had nothing that impressed me. Oh, the PRS CE 24 was easy on the hands, but the tone wasn't there. And that Peavey Tele-style was nicer than I expected, but... Dad was quick to point out that it's not my "Maserati."

See, I'd explained to him that all of my instruments are basically the equivalent of a Toyota Camry. Now, I'm making plans to eventually get a Maserati (Ferrari, whatever).

***

We ended up going to several places. I was a little disappointed in Strait Music, though the Billy Corgan Strat I played there was a pretty neat instrument. Still... it isn't the one.

***

At Musicmakers, a place that I really disliked back when I lived in Austin, I played a Gibson custom shop ES-336.

Our ears immediately perked up. It had a very musical, chiming, bell-like tone. Dad was quick to point out that it sounded far better than anything else I'd played all day.

He was right.

I went on to try a pretty Cherry red ES-335, and it was nice, but... no Maserati.

***

That evening we had two of the hottest tickets in town: Willie Nelson and Asleep at the Wheel opening the 35th season of Austin City Limits.

The studio holds fewer people than it did back when I worked on the show. Capacity is 320 now, I believe. That's a rather exclusive audience.

I heard the Wheel many times back in the day, and they've never sounded sharper than this night.

And when Willie joined them, I have to say that it was pretty darned exciting. Together they did lots of hits, as well as a bunch of songs from their collaboration (the title of which I don’t currently know).

The band played for over two hours. We had a good time there listening to the music and visiting with Michael, Maria, and their father Bill. I saw several folks I knew from back in the day. On the way out I bought a nice ACL ballcap and a limited edition print to commemorate the show.

We didn’t hurry to get out of town the next day. We ate a bit, ran a couple errands, and finally said our goodbyes.

I hope we get to do it again someday. The trip went pretty perfectly.

Fading...

2009-02-24T22:49:00.001-06:00

It's pushing bedtime.

I'm home, after a good trip. I'm about half crazy from fatigue.

I should write about my travels in detail, I suppose, but for now, just know that I have terrific friends in Whit and Michael, and a terrific father in Doug.

Whit and I did martial arts stuff together, watched TV, and had some laughs. Some things never change.

Michael got Dad and me two of the hottest tickets in town.

Dad and I talked about everything under the sun. A lot of it was boy talk, and... some of it was magic.

We shopped for guitars, and also had the privilege of being two out of 320 people to watch a two hour and twenty minute Willie Nelson/Asleep at the Wheel concert at Austin City Limits.

I'm glad to be back. The trip was great.

I'm listening to the new Steven Wilson solo album, Insurgentes. It is... epic and sublime. It's what I wanted Radiohead to sound like.

If I fell asleep right NOW, I could get eight hours of rest.

Soon, but not quite yet. I just can't let go of this CD yet.

Y'all get some rest.

Just a quick note

2009-02-21T19:06:00.001-06:00

I'm in Katy, at Whit's house.

He's asleep on the couch. We've had a busy day!

We got up and went to his school, where I fumbled through a couple classes.

Then we hit the BJJ tournament, where two of his students performed admirably. I enjoyed being there.

And we're both kind of tuckered out. UFC 95 is on Spike tonight, and I think we'll just hang out and watch that. If he wakes up anytime soon.

Tomorrow I leave for Austin to hang out with the Doug (aka Dad).

Y'all take care.

Wednesday Mish Mash

2009-02-11T09:48:00.000-06:00

MOBB is at a job interview right now.

She was laid off in August. She has searched diligently for a job ever since. I don't make just a ton of money, and her unemployment is about to run out.

It's time.

Please keep her in your thoughts.

***

Mornings... ugh. Just... kill me. This is my curse.

***

They taught us in grad school that among the possible hallucinations, the olfactory variety are typical of the most severe pathology.

As I brushed my teeth this morning, this overwhelming scent hit me.

Noodles?

That can't be right. It seemed to start right there. Being a guy, of course, I wondered what in the name of Ronald McDonald could be song wrong with the (heater, water heater, attic insulation, wiring...) that it would smell like THAT, and what potential disaster did this hint at?

I tried to ignore it.

***

A-Rod... you know, the guy never seemed sincere. Ever. And no, I don't believe that simply because he threw his Rangers teammates under the bus that he ONLY did steroids here. I mean, the pressure doesn't exactly relent when one joins the Yankees, you know?

Wolfboy, who is a rule follower, took the news well. "He's a YANKEE anyway."

Good kid.

***

Sitting on the couch this morning about a half hour ago, I smelled it again.

It's... Asian food?

The heater had just cycled. I tried to remember: Did the smell start when it ran? What dead critter smells like... sesame?

MOBB was dressing for her interview. I asked her, "What the @#$% is that SMELL?"

"It's ME."

Eh?

Seems that during last week's massage (a gift from her dear friend Heather), the masseuse suggested rubbing sesame oil on the skin to soften it. And MOBB did exactly that this morning.

And she stores it under the bathroom sink.

"If you need to cook with it, there it is," she said.

Well, okay.

***

Former Rangers whose names have been associated with steroids: Jose Canseco, Ivan Rodriguez, Juan Gonzalez, Ruben Sierra, Randy Velarde, Sammy Sosa, Eric Gagne, Alex Rodriguez... I'm sure I'm forgetting some.

***

I must admit that I'm concerned that this morning's interviewer might wonder why my spouse smells like Pad Thai.

(She assures me she wiped it all off)

***

One can't make this stuff up, folks.

***

I'm pretty concerned about this balky shoulder of mine. I see the doc next week.

***

Y'all have a good one.

Normal

2009-02-06T21:57:00.003-06:00

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: [to Igor] Now that brain that you gave me. Was it Hans Delbruck's?
Igor: [pause, then] No.
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: Ah! Very good. Would you mind telling me whose brain I DID put in?
Igor: Then you won't be angry?
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: I will NOT be angry.
Igor: Abby Someone.
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: [pause, then] Abby Someone. Abby who?
Igor: Abby Normal.
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: [pause, then] Abby Normal?
Igor: I'm almost sure that was the name.
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: [chuckles, then] Are you saying that I put an abnormal brain into a seven and a half foot long, fifty-four inch wide GORILLA?
[grabs Igor and starts throttling him]
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: Is that what you're telling me?

From the movie Young Frankenstein.Source: IMDB

***

What's normal?

Sorry. Is that word offensive? Not PC?

I just mean "typical." But really, the word that comes out of our lips more often than not is "normal."

Normal.

What is it?

There's this thing that happens to counseling students as they read the DSM-IV (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual, aka the psych industry bible): They diagnose themselves.

They see that yes, they need to turn a light switch off three times just to be sure that the light is off. Or they rock in their seats. Or they have racing thoughts. And so on and so forth.

These students see something familiar there in the diagnostic criteria, and as soon as they clearly recognize one, well, one or more of the others might be there too.

Do I have delusions of grandeur? Well, I AM pretty bitchin'...My gosh, I have schizoaffective disorder!

[Note: I do not even remember if that's really a symptom of schizoaffective disorder. Heck, I'm not even sure I'm spelling that correctly. But just roll with me, will you?]

***

So what's the deal?

Let's look at it like this:

Behavior occurs along a continuum. It's a progression, if you will. At one far end is symptom-free, "normal" behavior. Ground zero.

At the other end is full-blown pathology, the type that's debilitating and extreme to the point that hospitalization is necessary.

Statistically speaking, not very many people are at that far-most, troublesome end of the continuum. That's a good thing.

But I'd venture to guess that there are far fewer at the symptom-free end. In fact, I'm about convinced that there are none.

***

The diagnostic criteria in the DSM-IV are lists of behaviors.

Are you easily distracted?

Are you anxious for no reason?

Are you hypervigilant?

Do you struggle to get out of bed every morning?

These are all criteria used to establish diagnoses. I think that even the most normal among us have behaviors that are a step or two up the continuum. Does the fact that you hyperventilate when you fly in an airplane mean you need medicine? Yes? No? How about if you hyperventilate when your child plays with an airplane toy?

***

And thus far in my new counseling career, I've been something of a "normalizer." Ten years after the passing of your parent you still have crying spells at the holiday? I don't see this a pathological. Your husband or wife left with the kids and cleaned out the bank account? I'm not surprised that you can't sleep at night. I often point out my clients' normal behaviors.

But there can be a point at which the client's "normal" isn't normal at all. For example, someone with panic disorder is effectively reverting to fight/flight mode all the time. Primitive brain functions take over; the brain is hardwired to repeatedly put aside higher workings (logic, reason, abstract thought) and send out a distress call.

How does one complete their grocery trip if standing in the produce section triggers the very same reaction he or she would have if the building had caught fire?

Do you think that telling this person to calm down will be particularly helpful?

Yet a person with such a disorder goes through life like this. "Distress" is a key word that appears in many diagnoses. Behaviors are often quirky or even charming... until they cause distress.

***

We are all at least a little bit crazy.

Relax

2009-02-06T11:27:00.000-06:00

I'll be back soon.

Got them insomniac blues

2009-02-02T06:06:00.001-06:00

I've been up since around 4am. Racing thoughts. I had to just give up and get up.

***

So I made myself a pot of coffee. When MOBB came out to check on me, I was startled and brandished a tablespoon at her.

***

Spork is one very funny word.

***

Something parenting has taught me: A princess does NOT eat bread crusts. However, if big brother is being a pain in the rumpus, a princess WILL kick him in the jewels.

***

I'm in the process of declaring a truce with my Les Paul. I still put it down shaking my head a lot, but I've discovered that playing it loudly does give it some character.

***

I watched the Superbowl. I'm not sure why.

Bruce was good though.

***

I'm deeply disappointed in Michael Phelps.

***

I've been clean and sober for years.

Substances I have used to cop a buzz:

Alcohol
Marijuana
Sleeping pills
Amyl nitrite
Primatene tablets
Cough syrup
Nyquil
Dramamine
Antihistamines
Hydrocodone
Skelaxin and other muscle relaxants
Darvocet

...and more. I was slipped things here and there for which I never had names. I once drank a bottle of cooking sherry. I'm amazed the salt content didn't kill me.

***

Compared to some clients I've seen, I was extremely lightweight.

***

We do not own cats. Cats own us. Ringo is in bed with THEGIRL right now, just like he is every night. I've given up on opening the door to see if he wants out. He just stares at me like I'm a fool.

***

These days I feel as plain as unbuttered toast.

***

We don't have anything I really want for breakfast. I think I'll stop into the Fiesta store by the office and get a breakfast taco.

(BB's blog: where readers get the hard-hitting facts)

***

Bailing out. Happy Monday.

25 More Random Things About BB

2009-01-31T08:55:00.001-06:00

(Because admit it: You can never get enough BB)

1. If I started a band today, I'd name it "Diabolical."

2. Whit's mother, Mary, will always be "Mother Mary" in "Let It Be" to me.

3. I saw a brutal fist fight at a Rush concert once. The first punch went right past my face.

4. I think Myspace is really boring in comparison to Facebook.

5. I like bananas just a bit on the brown and spotty side.

6. I used to have a million concert shirts, but not anymore. Now I just have a Mance Lipscomb/Navasota Blues Fest shirt. MOBB's old Replacements/All Shook Down shirt is in my closet too.

7. Someday I'd like to have some custom cowboy boots made.

8. My right leg is a bit shorter than my left. I wear a shoe insert to correct this, but I'm starting to wonder why it matters.

9. I didn't touch a guitar for two years after my daughter was born.

10. One time while working at a recording studio, I walked in on an engineer and a client in the middle of a "side project." She screamed when she saw me. I just said, "Good night!" and left. No one ever said a thing about it to me.

11. In November of 1990, I watched an orange fireball blaze across the Austin sky.

12. I have seen a UFO, God help me.

13. If I could make a detailed list of reasons I'd never commit suicide, I promise you that somewhere on that list would be "because I want to be around to hear new music."

14. One time I thought Gary Busey was going to take a swing at me.

15. The first CD I ever bought was Led Zeppelin IV. I wanted Rush's Moving Pictures, but Wal Mart didn't have it.

16. My first concert, technically, was Kenny Rogers. He played at a rodeo I attended as a kid.

17. I was at a solo Britt Daniel (Spoon) show one night when someone yelled something like "you suck!" He rushed out into the crowd, wanting to fight whoever had said it. We all just laughed. He DID suck.

18. I once worked security for Jesus Jones.

19. Lou Ann Barton gave me the "heeeeeeey!" sultry greeting in a video store one morning. It made me need a really hot shower. Blech.

20. Some hands I've shaken: Jackie Chan, Willie Nelson, Robert Cray, Buddy Guy, Albert Collins. Chan only offered me his left.

21. My kids must have a couple hundred movies. Maybe more. Therefore, I don't feel bad about secretly throwing away "The Teddy Ruxpin Movie." It was just about the worst thing I've ever seen, and folks, I'm a Mystery Science Theater 3000 fan.

22. I think that when playing a solo, any note on the neck is potentially useful in any key.

23. A big piece of my heart is in New Orleans.

24. On the one hand, I don't much care for it when metal players do finger tapping stuff. One the other hand (are you snickering by now?), Stanley Jordan is absolutely incredible.

25. Jackie Chan's security kicked me out of the store where I met him for trying to snap a photo of him.

On the PRS

2009-01-29T23:24:00.000-06:00

[From an email I sent to Toland]

I put my first toe in the water today, finally putting my hands on a pricey guitar. I was in Weatherford on business, and they have a shop there called Craig's. It's where I bought my acoustic. They're PRS dealers too.

I only had a few minutes, as a coworker had driven, and our shift was over. Didn't want to keep her waiting. I put my hands on a Chris Henderson model. It's a single cutaway Les Paul type.

The good: Big crunch. They have an amp just like mine there. I dialed in a familiar setting, and it drove the amp better than mine. The tone was kind of generic, but maybe I could have tweaked that out with EQ.

The bird inlays on the fretboard really are quite beautiful. The workmanship looked very good, and I liked the color.

The bad: One tone knob seemed messed up; it turned like it had no... resistance at all. The other knobs all acted normal, whereas this one felt... broken. And I'm sorry, but I don't like recessed knobs. I felt like I had to work harder to access them.

Their famous "wide fat" neck felt kind of unwieldy in my hands. Maybe a guy with big hands like yours would like it, but it was a wee bit cumbersome to navigate. And for whatever reason, I didn't feel like my bends sang the way they should. I'd bend up, and the note would just die.

AND the A string vibrated in this strange, very wide, buzzy arc. Now, this instrument has 3 humbuckers, and a big magnetic field like that will jack with strings' vibration. Still... this is a $2600 (street price) instrument. You'd think that if they're bothering to make such an instrument, they'd have a common problem like this one licked, you know?

So the verdict thus far on PRS is a big fat "overrated." Granted, I only spent five minutes with it, but I now wish I'd spent my five minutes with the black Gibson ES-335 up on the wall...

Ice Ice, BB

2009-01-28T11:17:00.002-06:00

Well, we're iced in here. That includes the kids. Suddenly I'd like to go back to work so I can rest up.

***

I've pre-ordered my copy of Roger Joseph Manning's Catnip Dynamite CD, which was available in Japan for so long.

You should do the same.

AND, Manning should tell his buddy Jason Falkner to release the Japan-only I'm OK You're OK here too.

***

Yeah, so last night I got around to changing the burned-out bulb in the oven. As with most of my little projects, I made it harder than it needed to be. I took out the whole fixture instead of just taking off the cover. Hey, it was hard to see in there.

Wolfboy was holding the flashlight for me. As I struggled to replace the wire that holds the cover, I jerked the fixture by accident.

The result: sparks, and a puff of smoke.

Wolfboy took a deep breath before yelling to the whole house:

"THAT... WAS... AWESOME!!! Blue sparks and smoke!"

Glad I could amuse you, kid.

***

I have also pre-ordered my copy of the new Steven Wilson (Porcupine Tree) solo album, Insurgentes.

It comes with a CD, a DVDA (which I assume is a 5.1 mix of the CD--THAT would be cool), and an autographed jewel case booklet.

Get yours.

I love you, Newbury Comics. Will you marry me?

***

Repeat after me: Texas wants Ben Sheets.

***

Speaking of 5.1 mixes, my friend Ken Baum has been ripping me some lately. Beatles, Chicago, REM... he got me the two-CD Fragile (Nine Inch Nails), and you know, I have no idea when I'll get to hear it, as it'll only play in my DVD player. MOBB won't sit through that. I guess I can't blame her.

***

I have just been going non-stop lately. I've been in several trainings for work. When I'm home, I'm doing counseling stuff. I'm up to five clients now. It makes BB a busy boy.

***

The new Krav Maga school opens here in Hurst on February 3. Cool.

***

My February "boys only" tour of Texas is shaping up nicely. First, on February 20 I'll head to Katy, Texas to hang out with Whit and his JMMA crew. I expect to show off my mad new Krav skillz.

On Sunday the 22nd I'll head to Austin to hang out with the Doug for a few days. And I'm keeping my fingers crossed: There's a decent chance we'll get to attend a Willie Nelson/Asleep at the Wheel taping of Austin City Limits.

***

Well, I've got some important sitting around to do. Y'all take care.

The BB Protein Shake

2009-01-25T17:21:00.002-06:00

In summer of '07, I was in good shape. I almost had pecs, almost had biceps. I was almost comfortable shirtless.

Life intervened. The shirt went back on.

I haven't ever descended into total sloth, at least. Any given time I've needed to work out or exert myself I've gotten by.

Now, I want it back. As my busy schedule allows, I am getting back into Krav. I joined the new school. I'm doing my pushups too. I want it back.

It's hard for me to get enough protein. I'm not a big meat eater, so it's a struggle.

Here's the protein shake I've been enjoying lately. THEGIRL helped me make one a few minutes ago:

3 scoops of Genisoy protein powder
12 ounces of 2% organic milk
4 tablespoons of peanut butter
About a teaspoon of honey

Blend. That's slightly more than 50 grams of protein, and it tastes great. Genisoy doesn't sweeten their powder as far as I can tell. I don't recognize all of the ingredients, but I don't think any of them are sweeteners. That works well, as it lacks that odd zing with which so many other powders make you deal.

Sometimes I'll drop in a banana for a few more calories, maybe as a breakfast drink. Then the honey isn't necessary.

THEGIRL loves it. Wolfboy doesn't care for it.

Martin Luther King, Jr. Day Wrapup

2009-01-19T22:38:00.001-06:00

Did you know that the U2 song "Pride (In the Name of Love)" contains a historical inaccuracy? The lyric is, "Early morning, April 4... shot rings out in the Memphis sky" (as we all know).

But Dr. King was assassinated in the evening. That was about four months before I was born.

***

I try to stay out of political discussions. I have my own opinions, but I don't enjoy the sort of heated debate that comes with politics.

I'm going to throw this out there, considering the importance of this particular time.

I voted for Obama.

I respect the office of the president. When Clinton was in office, I was appalled at the name-calling.

I happen to think that George W. Bush was an absolutely terrible president. I won't stoop to calling him names, or joining the "chuck a shoe at the president" group (or whatever that little online group is called).

He may have done us one of our greatest favors though. I mean this with all seriousness.

He set the bar so unbelievably low that there simply was no way another conservative was going to be elected. He made possible the election of an African-American president. Mr. Bush fumbled so badly that even this nation so prejudiced managed to elect a Black man.

I like Obama. I think he's smart and charismatic. I hope he's not one who is big on ideas and talk without delivering though.

I am cautiously optimistic.

***

So yeah, I've hauled my antiquated fanny back to Krav. Well, to a different Krav school. I am just starting over, effectively, and that's fine. I trained so infrequently in the last year that I need to do this. On some stuff I get by just fine, and on other stuff the rust shows.

I work out in these great KM BDU pants that Whit got me. They're sturdy, roomy, and they look good. Oh, and they're comfortable.

But I learned that all the physical activity loosens them up just a bit in the waist. I hit the Army/Navy store to get a little cloth belt for them.

On a rack in the back were some boys' pants. Lo and behold, I found a pair of olive drab BDUs in Wolfboy's size. They're identical in construction to my KM pants. They're even the same brand. They FIT him nicely, and they were only $4.99.

Score one for BB.

***

We did a lot of cleaning today. I moved the surround speakers like I've wanted to for so long. They'd been positioned right behind the couch since the days when we had a woefully underpowered amplifier. Once we upgraded, though, they needed to be positioned properly.

You know, they sound a lot better than I expected in the new positions. I came home from KM and MOBB was watching some Spanish-language movie, and running the sound through the stereo because she liked it.

***

And now a nice Spock's Beard song for you.

Have a great week.

I Don't Mind

2009-01-18T00:20:00.001-06:00

The amazing Jason Falkner, doing "I Don't Mind" from his Japanese-only release I'm OK You're OK.

I Am Iron Dad

2009-01-16T23:16:00.001-06:00

It's Friday night, and MOBB is watching Iron Man.

This movie is so flippin' great.

And I'm ready for an Avengers movie. I mean, we've already seen Iron Man, Spider-Man, the Hulk, Storm, and Wolverine on the big screen. How hard would it be to write Captain America into an Avengers script?

And you know... why hasn't Cap's costume ever changed?

***

I bought some wrestling shoes tonight.

***

The head of the school of social work at Tarleton asked me to give a lecture this semester.

Do you have any idea how pumped I am to do this?

***

I have no particular plans this weekend.

***

I've been listening to a lot of Spock's Beard lately. Snow is one terrific CD.

***

I've been thinking about our home state lately.

The machine at the hotel made Texas-shaped waffles. Tell me: If you're from, say, some rectangular-shaped state like Kansas or North Dakota, do the hotel waffle irons there make rectangular waffles?

I think I'll cogitate on this one a while, see if there's a real post to be had.

***

An excellent point made at the conference yesterday:

Immigration from Mexico is a concern. Whether you want open borders, fewer immigrants, more immigrants, tougher laws, more flexible laws... everyone has an opinion about it.

What happens when and if Mexico genuinely becomes a failed state, and suddenly those immigrants are refugees, fleeing north with only what they can carry? How do we respond when they are gathered at the border?

***

Y'all have a great weekend.

Random Facts About BB

2009-01-13T11:52:00.000-06:00

I had a nightmare about a hedgehog this week.

I also had a nightmare that terrorists stole my French fries.

I fell into our big, curbside trash can. Really.

I think I have a texting-related injury. Again, really.

I’m going to Stephenville tomorrow.

There’s a nice-smelling candle in my study now. I want it to always smell like that in there.

I received a form letter from director Robert Rodriguez last week.

My pinky hurts.

I’ve started listening to Dock Boggs again.

I play some sort of video game called Super Mario Brothers Smash Melee (or something like that) with Wolfboy. I almost never beat him. He encourages me nevertheless.

I heard a Motorhead song from the Spongebob Movie soundtrack today. Jeez, is NO ONE unavailable for the right price?

BB Goes IKMF

2009-01-12T22:06:00.000-06:00

I have enrolled at a new Krav Maga school. It's based in Saginaw, though they've begun to teach in a karate school very close to my house. I had terrific times at the old school, and I'm sad to see it go.

This is an IKMF (International Krav Maga Federation) school, whereas the other was a KMWW (Krav Maga Worldwide) school. Pretty much the same stuff, just taught out of two different organizations.

I'm excited. The instructors are well-qualified, the location is good, and the tuition is reasonable. If you live near the mid-cities or Saginaw and are interested, I'd certainly recommend checking it out.

Let My Love Open the Door

2009-01-09T22:20:00.001-06:00

Galveston Struggles on in Hurricane Ike's Aftermath

2009-01-07T19:47:00.001-06:00

Thanks to Bruiser for pointing me to this terrific video, set to "Blackbird Fields" by one of my favorite bands, Varnaline.

The Disease Model of Addiction: A Polemic

2009-01-05T21:39:00.011-06:00

I'm going to take this opportunity to express an opinion that, while not inappropriate, really can't be expressed in a professional context.

See, the most popular approach to conceptualizing addiction is the disease model. And I start off by saying that I respect this concept. It is a good thing.

Why? Because it lends the proper perspective to it all. It's a viewfinder through which one can properly see the scope of what lies before them.

If a family system is no longer able to function, the fact that they rail against the "disease" that's doing this to them is useful. They understand it, and it doesn't presuppose that addiction is wholly a moral failure. It nods to the biology at work.

It's the model supposedly embraced by AA, a widely-respected organization. Substance Abuse Counseling (Lewis, Dana, & Blevins) writes, "The disease model was first conceptualized by Jellinek (1960)."

But the "Doctor's Opinion" portion of the preface to the first edition of the AA "Big Book," published in 1939, states:

It did not satisfy us to be told that we could not control our drinking just because we were maladjusted to life, that we were in full flight from reality, or were outright mental defectives. These things were true to some extent, in fact, to a considerable extent with some of us. But we are sure that our bodies were sickened as well. In our belief, any picture of the alcoholic which leaves out this physical factor is incomplete."

It seems that AA, by soliciting the opinion of medical experts who espoused a disease model, chose to abandon the facets of addiction that they had originally accepted. They appeared to be pushing for a disease model decades prior to Jellinek.

***

Some of the tenets of the disease model:

*Alcohol- and drug-dependent people have physical cravings that can be irresistible.

*They lose control over drinking and drug use.

*The condition is progressive and irreversible.

"Many adherents of the disease concept view all slips as relapses, and a client's slip is thought to obviate prior success." (Lewis, et al). That is, a person who has been sober for a period of time has to "start over" if he or she ever drinks or uses again. The prior clean time has, in accordance with the model's "all or nothing" assumptions, been in vain.

The disease model also does not account for the phenomenon of spontaneous recovery. Sometimes addicts quit successfully, with no particular intervention or medical assistance. I would venture to say that there is little in a progressive disease that is analogous to this behavior.

And sometimes addiction does not progress like a disease. Substance use/abuse occurs on a continuum, with non-problematic users at one far end and problematic, physically dependent users at the other. Many people who abuse alcohol do not worsen to the point of their demise.

(Nor do they improve to the point of complete sobriety)

***

I am a proponent of the biopsychosocial model. Let's break this down:

BIO, as in biological, refers to elements of addiction found in the disease model. It can be a deep physical need. Withdrawal from alcohol, for example, is potentially lethal, as it can cause grand mal seizures.

There is a genetic component. A child with an addict parent has a 50% chance of becoming an addict herself.

[Question: How would you, as a parent, react if a genetic test could tell you that the child you have conceived carries an addictive gene?]

The need for drugs or alcohol can become hard-wired into the brain. We all share some basic brain parts with other, simpler creatures. Our primitive or "lizard" brain structures are the ones that control basic things like regulation of heartbeat and respiration, fight or flight (and other) instincts, all that. So if a person has spent years dealing with anger, which is considered to be an offshoot of the basic emotion fear, by drinking, the need for this chemical becomes imperative. Those old brain areas, which typically would be flooded with endogenous (neuro)chemicals during such times of stress, become trained to expect the foreign chemical as well.

The brain is essentially screaming for alcohol.

*

PSYCHO is psychological. There is no magic here. This is when the substance is used as a response to some emotional stimulus. Use is a coping mechanism. The person who dealt with anger by drinking was initially drinking for psychological reasons. Only by pounding the brain with this chemical repeatedly does the biological need develop.

Typically, the brain will have some means for responding to anxiety or fear or other emotions. The unpleasant nature of the response, such as tremors, is sometimes coped with through substance use. How many of our heroes of old war films dealt with a troubled conscience with marijuana or bourbon?

*

SOCIAL is the point at which others' behaviors can affect what happens to the addict.

If someone has cancer that is in remission, their health is not jeopardized by socializing with someone who has active cancer. The same cannot be said to be true for addicts. An addict in recovery can relapse simply as a result of socializing with people who use.

***

For years, addicts were thought to be morally deficient people who could be saved if they would simply acknowledge and change their sinful ways. Well, in reality no matter what they acknowledge, addicts can't just stop. That is addiction--the inability to stop, no matter what. Addicts know every consequence of their addiction: lost jobs, screwed-up relationships, squandered money, betrayed relatives, and so on. But they can't help their behavior. Dr. Drew Pinsky, Cracked.

***

In substance abuse treatment centers, patients are currently given dual diagnoses. The idea is that addiction does not occur in a vacuum; it is comorbid with emotional disorders. The patient is perhaps disagnosed with opioid dependence and depression, for example.

There are over 100 pages devoted to substance abuse disorders in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual IV. Surely in the coming years and decades we will look back on even this time as somehow missing the mark regarding addiction. I do believe, however, that whatever we uncover in our quest, we will be better served if we can find some way to more accurately conceptualize addiction.

I Went to Entmoot and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt

2009-01-03T23:21:00.002-06:00

It's Saturday night, and I'm here, enjoying the quiet.

***

New Year's Eve was wholly uneventful.

New Year's Day went as planned, pretty much. I hunkered down and spent about 10 hours watching the Lord of the Rings DVDs.

A few thoughts:

I love how it plays almost like an alternate British history. It just has that "this could be true" feel to it (dorky, I know). And watching this reminded me that if I am going to invest myself in a fantasy movie, for whatever reason I enjoy one that doesn't rush to create this "other" world. It might explain my fondness for Legend as well.

The lighting was terrific.

The music was too. Did this win anything for music? Wow.

Entmoot sounds like it should be a music festival.

And the shots all LOOKED good. Nothing that looked low-budget. I watch a lot of bad movies, and in those you can see just how a limited budget can hinder things.

Great casting.

*

True, by the third DVD my attention was waning a bit.

***

Lately I've been enjoying listening to old Stax/Volt stuff.

***

I got a haircut today, and did the leaves in the front yard.

***

Things are shakin' on the martial arts front. More info as I get it, but it looks like I'll be getting back to regular training soon. I can't wait!

***

Been listening to a ton of Guy Clark too (thank you again, Toland). I should just up and learn about everything the man has ever written, I do believe.

***

My father and I are tossing around the idea of taking a trip together, but we can't seem to figure out WHERE exactly.

We have ruled out Mexico.

***

This is meandering, and I thought more would occur to me. Y'all take care, and I'll take another stab at this soon enough.

December 30 Meanderings

2008-12-30T12:10:00.004-06:00

Reunion.com and Classmates.com are a real crock. I’m convinced they’re nothing but thinly veiled dating sites. “Brian Briscoe, see who was searching for you!”

Why? Why would I care? I’m not going to claim to be so introverted that there aren’t folks I’d like to hear from, but seriously, there are easier (and FREE) ways to find me online. I’m all over the bloody internet. One little Google search and I pop right up.

***

I was there as the internet bubble burst. I got hired by Yahoo! in 2000. They actively recruited me away from the job I had working for a PBS station. Yahoo was good while it lasted. No dress code, great benefits, decent pay, purple furniture…

I can still recall the HR person telling us in orientation: “See all those Porsche Boxters in the parking lot? That will be you soon enough.”

I’m still waiting.

***

I’ve been at Krav a couple times in the last week. Last night was pretty rough and tumble. Even my bruises have bruises.

***

BB’s current therapy: Death is this Communion by High on Fire.

***

Guitar lust has a grip on Toland and me. I’m still socking away some cash to replace the p’ups in my Les Paul.

Funny, I had to take a step back and look objectively at my study over the weekend. I have five guitars, and I have enough wall hangers to display four of them. But you know, I decided it might not be wise to have them all there in one place, easily visible through the windows. It’d be very easy for some prowler to get hold of them.

So I’ve got two in there at any given time. The others are in closets.

***

The kids are going to Corsicana for a few days. I figure this will give me more chances to nap over the NY holiday.

But come January 1, it’s me and 3 Lord of the Rings DVDs.

***

My guitars:
*
My #1 is the Jimmie Vaughan Tex Mex Stratocaster I bought a few years back. I love the pure tone, and the action is great. This instrument has taught me a lot about my preferences. I’m a little disappointed at the cheap one-ply pickguard, but otherwise this instrument is really “me.”

(A red one like mine, ganked from the Elderly Instruments site)

*

A Guild dreadnought. It’s slightly unusual looking I’d say, but the mahogany, including the solid top, makes for a very smooth, full tone.

I lowered the action a few days ago. I have to learn not to beat the bejeebers out of it now, because I can make it buzz. I’m really pleased with this one. For less than $500 I feel like I got a legacy-quality instrument.

*

My Epiphone Les Paul. I’ve mentioned it plenty lately. I love the color and the playability, but the stock pickups leave plenty to be desired. It’ll do big, round tones, and that’s about it. I simply must have more versatility in an instrument than this. I’ll put in the new pickups as soon as I can.

*

An ESP bass with a J/P-bass pickup configuration. It’s technically MOBB’s, but I mess with it more than she does. It’s a decent, workman-like instrument. The neck’s got more bow than I’d like at the moment, so I need to get in there and tweak the truss rod. Maybe a good holiday project for me.

*

A white off-brand acoustic. Larry sold it to MOBB back when I was working for him. The action is high, but I don’t mind that, as I use it for more experimental stuff, like open tunings and slide. It’s got a good, trashy tone. One day I’d like to “Nashville” string it and learn to play the Replacements’ “Skyway.”

***

My beloved Krav Maga school is closing at the end of January, darn it. They really made a go of that place. My hat is off to David Wilson, Jack Bolowskie, Kevin Link, Micah Tapp, and all the other instructors and students with whom I trained over the years.

I’m motivated to train again though, and a plan is in motion for that very thing. I will update with details as I get them.

***

BB’s current therapy: “I Hope There’s Someone” by Antony and the Johnsons.

***

Have a great holiday, y’all.

THEGIRL, 2004

2008-12-27T23:46:00.007-06:00

In the summer of 2004, I was an at-home Dad for my infant daughter, who'd been born in February.

Over the course of six weeks I took photos of her on the changing table. I tried to set the camera the same way every day, but sometimes I was a little off.

I skipped some days and doubled up on others.

I ended up with the 25 photos in this album. I hope you enjoy them.

The Morning After

2008-12-26T07:44:00.002-06:00

This cold is a real pain in the nalgas. I SHOULD be asleep, but no, the tickle in my throat woke me up at about 6:45.

***

Christmas was good. THEGIRL got her kitchen set, and Wolfboy got his Gamecube. He played one (1) game for about 10 hours straight. I'm not kidding.

I received some nice gifts. I watched the Iron Man DVD last night, and that's appropriate since Wolfboy and I received matching "arc reactor" t-shirts yesterday. I was like a little kid, wanting to wear it, but he was into this new baseball shirt of his and said no. Maybe today.

I also got some fine Kona coffee from my aunt, some great music from Toland (do get yourself some Guy Clark, folks), and of course, my new Krav Maga pants.

***

Guy Clark and Emmylou Harris doing "I Don't Love You Much Do I?" with Los Lobos.

***

We went to the Baums' place for dinner, and ate like royalty.

***

Today I need to go to Fort Worth for a bit. I'm going to stop into Barnes and Noble, as I have a gift card, and I read that they're having a big sale.

***

I'm cleaning out the study, trying to make it more useful and create more space.

***

Mark Teixeira signed with the Yankees. I was thinking about the Yankees yesterday. Bruiser hates the Cubs like I hate the Yankees. I don't get it. I mean, have they played spoiler for the Astros a few too many times? They are wholly different organizations.

From the Newberg Report:

Peter Gammons points out that the Yankees now “have the highest-paid first baseman, the highest-paid third baseman, the highest-paid shortstop, the highest-paid catcher, the highest-paid starting pitcher and the highest-paid reliever in the history of the game.” The praise they’ll get for being World Series champions should pale in intensity to the embarrassment of being anything else.

Exactly. Whatever free agent they want, they can pretty much get, because they'll throw (almost literally) the biggest pile of money at him. Heck, they even got Randy Johnson, who had so famously mowed down the Bombers in the '01 World Series.

Curt Schilling, however, declined.

***

And some schmo just rang my @#$% doorbell at 8:21am the day after Christmas, wanting to clean up our leaves.

Uh, no.

***

Time to wrap it up. Coming soon: Quite Possibly the Cutest Post in the History of the Universe.

Happy Holidays

2008-12-25T00:10:00.001-06:00

[Suegra, aka Nell Thomerson, aka the mother-in-law]
Here's hoping that you too receive the perfect gift this Christmas.

I am

2008-12-20T20:12:00.003-06:00

a little bit croaky. I may be catching something.

***

going to have some ice cream very soon.

***

narrating the Christmas cantata at church tomorrow.

***

wishing my little girl would stop jacking with the cat, especially when it involves putting the little bugger on ME or MOBB.

***

glad I watched Meet Dave with Wolfboy last night. It's no masterpiece, but it's a fine movie to watch with a guffawing eight-year-old.

Lo and behold, it was co-written by the one and only Bill Corbett, who spent years as a writer for one of my favorite shows ever, Mystery Science Theater 3000.

***

finding it an odd coincidence that I have played two MST3K episodes this weekend, in fact: Santa Claus and Santa Claus Conquers the Martians.

The former gave me nightmares when I was five. Hey, it's kinda messed up to make a movie in which Santa is battling SATAN, okay? And the latter is so bad that even kids said so.

***

glad to report that I have done well over 1000 pushups this week.

***

waiting for the kids to go to bed so MOBB and I can watch The Dark Knight.

The movie itself is a bit overrated if you ask me. Heath Ledger's performance, however, is not.

***

thinking of putting a pair of Lace Alumitone pickups in the Les Paul.

***

the proud owner of some mighty cool new Krav Maga training pants. I'm like a little kid; I just want to wear them all the time.

***

very pleased with how my new brochures came out.

***

happy to be getting new clients.

***

off for most of next week.

***

going to spend all of one of those days having a personal Lord of the Rings Wing Ding. That is, I'ma sit down on this couch with a blanket, a remote control, and about a week's worth of snack food while I watch all three DVDs from the series.

***

looking forward to the gun seminar at the Krav Maga school on the 27th.

***

not happy to chew on the kids, but doggone it, their mother and I are sitting here in total silence by choice. Still they keep bopping out of their rooms to lean all over us, tell us things repeatedly, have random requests for us to get up and do things...

***

going to get that ice cream now. Y'all take care.

Tales of William

2008-12-16T19:42:00.001-06:00

Whit has begun a blog dedicated to his father. I recommend you take a look. I love this idea.

Too Much Coffee, Man!

2008-12-12T23:06:00.004-06:00

MOBB used to work with Shannon Wheeler, the creator of the indie comic Too Much Coffee Man.

This was back in Austin, when she worked for the Statesman. I never met him, but she said he was a nice guy. I ended up with some TMCM stuff, including a couple mugs (which are different from the two shown on the site) and one autographed and doodle-upon-by-Shannon comic.

I certainly found the comic to be funny, but I didn't become a rabid TMCM enthusiast by any stretch.

Still, on evenings when Wolfboy is desperate for bedtime material, occasionally TMCM will end up in his hands. He particularly loves the panels about the death of TMCM.

(Posted without permission, admittedly. But I do heartily encourage you to buy some of Wheeler's fine work).

***

In 2003 we'd been gone from Austin for several years. I was no longer working for PBS TV stations, and in fact had made the move to commercial TV via the very Belly of the Beast, aka Belo Corporation.

My carefree Austin days were long behind me. Yes, there is a fine local music scene in DFW, and there are certainly any number of free spirits and artists and writers and the like. But the presence of these souls in no way creates an atmosphere like being in Austin.

I started blogging while working for Belo, as some of you probably know. It was miserable. Watching The Office was very much like being at work.

I had my TMCM mug with me, though. I liked having my little slice of individuality right there, my... reminder of Austin I suppose.

***

Our room at BACS (Belo Advertising Customer Services, a little division of the Belo brand, which is housed almost in the shadow of the Death Star, which is what they REALLY did call the corporate office tower) had 30-odd cubes, a few glass offices for management, and no windows.

Oh, you could go down the hall and look out the window, but this being Belo and all, that could prove to be a risky venture. On a snow day a bunch of folks went to check it out for a couple minutes. I'm no fan of snow, so I stayed where I was. I was stunned that by the time my coworkers returned about 120 seconds later, an email from upper management was awaiting them, telling them they had better things to do than look out the window at snow.

Really.

***

On the other end of the room was a little TV studio. It wasn't used for everyday broadcasts, but for "breaking news" sort of stuff. I can't recall specifically, but I suppose it was WFAA folks coming over to use it when they had "live from Dallas" stuff to broadcast nationwide.

I was in the men's room once, and between broadcasts their news guy rushed in and shoved open my stall door. I was not pleased to see him there, and I told him so.

In a place like Belo, a little time in the men's room could be the highlight of one's day.

***

Some big news came out of Waco in '03. A basketball player was missing. They had a suspect, who was also a basketball player, but no body or anything. Just a lot of suspicious circumstances.

Our little studio was being used rather frequently. News isn't nearly so impressive when it's being broadcast around you every day.

***

My dang TMCM disappeared one morning, and I was not happy about it. Yeah, any number of "World's Greatest Mom" mugs were there in the kitchen for my coffee, okay, but the idea that someone would run off with my mug just sort of added insult to injury.

I poured my coffee into one of those other mugs and stood there in a daze, just sort of cursing my fate in general.

Soon my eyes wandered up to the TV monitor, which showed the broadcast currently originating from our little studio.

They were interviewing a young woman whom the graphics identified as the girlfriend of the murder suspect.

I was only halfway watching when something caught my eye.

There, on national TV, the suspect's girlfriend was drinking out of my missing Too Much Coffee Man mug.

***

I was not amused.

***

The little set was sort of off limits to us, of course, but as soon as they were off the air I marched in without a word, grabbed my mug, and vowed never to just leave it lying around again.

It's currently on my desk at my current job.

***

The moral: Don't leave your favorite mug in the office kitchen.

***

Have a good weekend, y'all.

Intriguing

2008-12-11T22:30:00.003-06:00

Alone in the Wilderness, a documentary about the decades a man named Dick Proenneke spent living in Alaska. I saw some of this on PBS the other night, and it was really engrossing.

***

The Briscoe Theory of Counseling. My counseling supervisor is aware of the tenets of theories I find useful, like Solution-Focused Brief Therapy and Narrative Therapy.

She has challenged me to take those tenets and put together my own meta-theory.

Is it too late for me to pursue a career in ditch digging?

***

The Fender VG Stratocaster, a modeling electric guitar developed in a Fender/Roland partnership. It has modeling capabilities for a Strat, Tele, a humbucker-loaded guitar, a 12-string, and more. Oh, and you can change "tunings" with a knob.

Skip the cute stuff and just hear the sounds starting at about the four minute mark.

This is the kind of thing that may be a year or two from being truly great, though, as the reports I've read about its voracious battery consumption are a real deterrent for me. Oh, that and the $1700 price tag.

***

Being in a promotional video that Texas Wesleyan is putting together to promote its counseling department. Far as I know, I'm the only alumnus. It'll be online at some point. I will certainly holler.

***

The fact that my counseling service is going to be listed with 2-1-1 soon. If you're not familiar with 2-1-1, it's an information service provided by the United Way. It's what you can dial if you need social service agency assistance and the like. By being listed there, I will get referrals from UW. This could be terrific.

***

The fact that the Rangers are talking to Randy Johnson and Ben Sheets.

Johnson is 45, and not the pitcher he once was. I'm not saying it would be a dreadful mistake, but anyone thinking we'd be getting the same guy who helped Curt Schilling send the Yankees packing in '01 is mistaken.

Sheets is a long shot at best, and that's too bad, as he has much more upside at this point. He's injury-prone, sure. He's also an innings-eater with good stuff.

***

Being halfway through the baseball off-season.

***

And now the bed is calling me. Good night.

The song stuck in my head today

2008-12-07T21:12:00.001-06:00

Updates from the Padded Room

2008-12-05T21:08:00.002-06:00

I dreamed I was standing beside the late Layne Staley in some suburban house. He was looking in the bathroom mirror, and I said to him, "I struggle with this thing too."

***

Houses are designed incorrectly. At least the ones that child-rearin' families live in. There's a LIVING room, sure. Currently, that's where all the craziness ensues. The kids ride each other like livestock, fight, make noise, make smells, and generally go bananas.

Why is there just one room? The parents need a smaller, private (and possibly padded) room elsewhere in the house, accessible by the kids only if they are on fire or bleeding out of the eyeballs.

***

I am officially counseling now. I need to get more clients, of course, but it feels great, absolutely great.

***

Anyone want to buy my Epiphone Les Paul Studio? It's beautiful.

***

I sold my gun this week.

***

Wolfboy and THEGIRL are for sale too, by the way. 50 cents a pound and they're all yours.

***

They make me so doggone mad sometimes. Is there some larger, evolutionary thing at work here? Some urge to kill each other? If they were baby birds, would they be trying to push each other out of the nest? I mean, from a biological standpoint, is there some advantage to trying to murder one's sibling?

They make me nuts.

***

Anyone know a good, reasonably-priced printer for my brochures?

***

I've agreed to be in a video promoting the counseling program at Texas Wesleyan. I'm glad to do it.

***

I have this bad habit of parking where I'm not supposed to. I dodge speeding tickets all the time, but I'm not usually so lucky with parking tickets. Today I parked illegally in Ft. Worth, but the cop who left that ugly orange sticker on my window was good enough to not ticket me.

The sticker was a real bear to get off though.

***

Stopped into a funky record shop on the TCU campus today. There was a lot of cool, collectible stuff, including boatloads of Texas music. I'd noticed a lot of Stephen Bruton's stuff.

Got to talking with the owner about a Jimmie Dale Gilmore album. Turns out the owner is Stephen's brother, Sumter. Oooooooh. Cool.

***

I'm rambling on and on about nothing. Y'all take care. Stay warm, and have a good weekend.

The Fightin' Side of Me

2008-12-02T21:39:00.002-06:00

I'm not a fighter. I'm not a tough guy. Many days I see other guys and think, Man I wouldn't want to tangle with the likes of HIM.

But back in '05, I started training to fight.

For those of you who have read my blogs and known me a while, this will be old news.

I still never know how to answer the questions though. I make no secret of the fact that I train, but I feel positively embarrassed to admit it sometimes. After a confrontation with an unbalanced man a while back, a coworker said, "You know you could have taken him down." This person was serious. At that point, I usually joke about how I'm qualified to shriek and run, or how I can defend myself with a JUDO CHOP!

(That's Whit's phrase, and if you know anything about Judo it's awfully funny).

***

It started with Judo, in fact. Starting in January of 2005, I took a few weeks of Judo at the local rec center. It's run by a fifth degree black belt, it's cheap, it's close... and it didn't work out. All the breakfall drills and tumbling gave me bad equilibrium problems. And honestly, the class was often run by scowling black belts who had no interest in or use for the newbies, except for the purposes of throwing us around. I lasted all of five weeks. I retain no useful skills from it.

***

In March of 2006 I started training in Krav Maga.

This was a much better fit for me.

Krav Maga is a fighting system that originated in the Israeli military. It was created by Imi Lichtenfeld.

It is primarily a standup fighting style. If I had to use one word to describe it, I'd just call it kickboxing.

That's really a terrible oversimplification though, as it includes gun, knife, and blunt weapon disarms, escapes from holds (chokes, joint locks, etc), and a fistful of ground work. The addition of ground work is a necessary evolution of the style, as the popularity of MMA (mixed martial arts) means lots of people--good and bad--now have some idea how to fight on the ground. Still, the aim of KM is to get back UP, as there is often more than one attacker, and the ground is a poor vantage point from which to defend.

And there's more. KM teaches eye gouges, head butts, scratching and more. It's dirty.

I think that's fine. I've been the victim of enough random violence in my day to know that there's no honor code at work when someone is trying to injure you. If I am attacked by someone with no weapon, the chances of me standing there and trying to trade punches are pretty slim. I'm not the biggest, strongest guy out there, and though I punch and kick just fine, my training philosophy dictates that the shorter the fight is, the better. I will do something nasty in a hurry and be done. Some bad guy might get to think about me with every limping step he takes for the rest of his life (and I'm not joking).

I'm a guy. We talk like that sometimes.

***

Thing is, that's not really who I am. I have a couple years of good, hard training in a useful self defense system. This means I can take a hit, I can defend myself, I can counter, and I can do so without panicking. I'm not awfully versatile, but I've got some really good techniques. I also have a bit of Muay Thai training. KM basically nicks its standup from MT, though I like the mechanics of the MT kicks better. KM nicks techniques from lots of styles, in fact, including Judo. While training in my garage some months back, I slipped in some grease. I caught myself in a perfect KM/Judo front breakfall without thought or injury. Heck, I wish I'd done the technique that well on belt tests. So some of this stuff certainly does get hardwired into us.

(Nothing takes the place of training though. Period.)

***

I struggle to talk about this when asked though. Like today, when my coworker asked if I'm a black belt. I can usually mutter some bad joke and hope it goes away. I mean... look at me. I don't look tough. I don't FEEL tough. I think if I were of a mind to take a deep breath and speak like I'm the baddest thing since the "Thriller" video everyone would laugh. Heck, I would too. It's simply not my character to do that. I'm not a tough guy.

But I'm glad to have some tools. For whatever reason, sometimes the dust settles and I end up being the man to have to confront some random aggressor. That's fine. People who pick on innocents really @#$% me off. I've been the victim plenty. Now I'm glad to be able to be the guy to stand up, and to back it up. I just can't make myself talk about it.

Lee Van Arsdale vs. Buck Chambers

2008-11-29T20:56:00.007-06:00

These are photos of my great grandfather, Lee Van Arsdale, taken before an exhibition fight with a man believed to be named Buck Chambers. My father gave me these photos. He believes these were taken in Freeport, Texas sometime in the 1920s. We don't know much about them. They were found among my great grandmother's belongings after she passed.

My great grandfather, Lee Van Arsdale.

***

Buck Chambers

***

***

***

***

Thanksgiving Jumble

2008-11-26T19:58:00.002-06:00

Been a while since I had one of these jumbled up posts I suppose.

***

I think that MOBB has finally figured out that I want to be cremated instead of buried. I guess it's all the times I told her, "I wanna be cremated instead of buried!"

She asked me if there's someplace I want my ashes spread. I tried to think.

"What's your favorite place?" she asked.

SO, I'm going to have my ashes spread on the internet.

***

We leave tomorrow morning for Willis, Texas. It's somewhere in the Huntsville/Conroe area.

We'll be having Thanksgiving dinner with my Aunt Shirley, whom I haven't seen since I was 15.

I'm really looking forward to it.

***

I've found a buyer for my gun. I think we're both getting a fair deal out of this.

***

I'm going to sell my Les Paul too. I'm going to take whatever cash I can get from it and apply it towards a Carvin Bolt-T kit.

Turns out I'm not much of a humbucker guy. I'll get the humbucker bridge option from Carvin, but it'll come with a coil splitter. In my limited experience with such a rig, I do like the sound of a split humbucker, and when I want to turbo-thrust my sound, I can use both coils. My only real complaint about a Strat is that it's hard to get a really beefy sound without lots of 60-cycle hum.

***

We watched Hellboy II this week. I actually like it a little better than the first one, though MOBB and Toland prefer the first one. I just love them both, but II's anachronistic gizmos and stunning sets really make that one for me. I'll watch me a whole bunch of Hellboy movies. Ron Perlman's great, though he's no spring chicken, so I don't know how long he can keep reprising his role.

***

I'm seeing clients now. I need to make a promotional push to get the word out, but I have now oh-fish-ully been paid for my counseling work.

***

So last night THEGIRL and I had some time alone while MOBB dropped Wolfboy off at a sleepover.

We shared some noodles and watched Qubo.

She asked for a snack, and came back with a cheese stick. Soon she presented me with a tiny little plastic plate with little cheese pieces on it.

I ate a few, and thanked her.

But I pointed out that the cheese was in tiny pieces, and asked her how she cut them.

"With my teeth!" she said.

Oh... well... thanks!

***

And THEGIRL just broke a lamp. Wolfboy broke one when he was her age as well.

Kids are so hard on the little things. I swear, THEGIRL is going to give Ringo PTSD.

***

I'll sign off now. Y'all have a great holiday. Be safe, be careful, and ... Hook 'em!

November 24, 2008

2008-11-24T19:56:00.002-06:00

One of my favorite authors, Larry Brown, died four years ago today. He was 53.

His writing amazed me, because the words on the page were like the words in my mind. He wrote the way I think. It was uncanny.

I have not often insisted that my friends read books I like. Brown was an exception.

(Thank God for Sherman Alexie, who continues to live and write, and occasionally get foisted upon my friends).

This is the prologue to Billy Ray's Farm. I heartily recommend that if you enjoy Southern literature at all, you buy some Larry Brown.

***

Prologue

A long time ago when I was a boy, there was one slab of concrete that stretched from Oxford to Toccopola, a distance of about sixteen miles, and that was the road everybody used to get to town. It was kind of like half of a road, with one side concrete, the other side dirt and gravel. If you were heading to town, you could stay on the concrete all the way and never have to get off on the gravel side. And if you were coming from town, you could get on the concrete part and drive on the wrong side of the road until you met somebody, and then you had to jump back onto the gravel.

That road has been gone for a long time, but I still remember the swaying of the car as my father went from one side of the road to the other. Everybody did it and nobody ever thought anything about it.

A trip to town on Saturday was a big event. The Square in Oxford has changed some, true, but by and large it still retains the image I have of it from thirty years ago. It is still lined with stores and parked cars, and the big oaks still stand on the courthouse lawn, and the Confederate soldier is still standing there high above everything so that you can see him first when you come up the long drive of South Lamar. What has changed is the nature of the town. A long time ago you could find people selling vegetables from the backs of their trucks, and you could go in Winter's Cafe and get a hamburger and a short-bottled Coke for sixty-five cents. You can't even buy an Egg McMuffin on University Avenue for that.

Faulkner would probably be flabbergasted to know that there are several bars on the Square now, and that blues music can often be heard wailing out of the open doors on hot summer nights, floating around the air on the Square, lifting up to the balconies of the apartments that line the south side, where people are having drinks and conversing. It's not like it was when he was around. Life was hard for some. Blacks were oppressed. The drinking fountains on the Square were labeled Colored and White. That world doesn't exist anymore.

What does exist is the memory of it, a faded remnant of the way things were. Write about what you know, yes, even if it doesn't exist anymore.

When I wrote my novel Father and Son, people wondered why I set it back in the sixties. The answer to that is very simple. When I wrote the first scene, where Glen Davis and his brother Puppy are driving back into town, I didn't see the Square I see now, with Square Books on the left side of South Lamar and Proud Larrys' on the right. I saw that old Oxford, the one where Grace Crockett's shoe store stood in the place now occupied by a restaurant and bar called City Grocery, and I saw the old trucks with wooden roofs built over the back ends to shield the watermelons and roasting ears and purple hull peas from the heat of the sun, and I saw a battered old dusty car that my two characters were riding in, and I knew that it had a shift on the column, and an AM radio with push buttons, and musty upholstery that had once been velvet. I saw all that and I knew that they had driven in one hot Saturday afternoon back during my childhood, and I remember the way things were.

What is it about Oxford that produces writers? I get asked that question a lot, and so does Barry Hannah, and so does John Grisham, and I have to confess that I'm just as bewildered by that question as the people who continue to ask it. Maybe even more so. They always want to ask about Faulkner and what it all means, being a writer in Oxford, and where all the stories come from, and why that environment seems to nurture writers. No matter where I go, I always get hit with that question or a variation of it.

I don't know what the answer is for anybody else, and I don't know what caused Faulkner to write. Most times, for any writer, I think it springs from some sort of yearning in the breast to let things out, to say something about the human condition, maybe just to simply tell a story. When pressed really hard, I say something generic like, "Well, for me the land sort of creates the characters, you know? I mean I look at the people around me and wonder what their stories are, or I think of some character and put him in a situation and then follow him around for a while, see what happens next."

It's hard sometimes while being pressed into a corner of the wallpaper to come up with a satisfying answer about your own land and the influences it has on you. Most of this stuff is private. You could say that you like the way the sky looks just before a big thunderstorm moves across a river bottom, or that you like to see the thousands of tiny frogs that emerge on the roads on a balmy spring night just after a good shower. You could ruminate expansively about the beauty of a hardwood forest on a cold morning, or the way the distant trees stand shimmering against the horizon on a blistering summer day. But none of that would satisfy the question. What is it they really want to know? Probably nothing more than that old and tired favorite: Where do you get your ideas?

I believe that writers have to write what they know about. I don't think there's much choice in that. The world Faulkner wrote about was vastly different from the one that exists now. If Faulkner were alive today, he would see that. The mansion down the street has been replaced by a BP gas station now, and the hardwood forest the dogs once yammered through has been clear-cut and turned into a pine plantation. Black folks don't say "yassuh" any more, and at this moment I would have no idea where in all of Lafayette County I could find a good mule. I think the past influenced Faulkner a lot. It must have, since so many of his stories and novels are about segments of history that had already passed when he wrote of them. All he was doing was what every other writer does, and that is drawing upon the well of memory and experience and imagination that every writer pulls his or her material from. The things you know, the things you have seen or heard of, the things you can imagine. A writer rolls all that stuff together kind of like a taco and comes up with fiction. And I think whatever you write about, you have to know it. Concretely. Absolutely. Realistically.

Oxford produces writers for the same reason that New York does, or Knoxville, or Milledgeville, or Bangor. You can't pick where you're born or raised. You take what you're given, whether it's the cornfields of the Midwest or the coal mines of West Virginia, and you make your fiction out of it. It's all you have. And somehow, wherever you are, it always seems to be enough.

Copyright © 2001 by Larry Brown

THEGIRL Makes the Cake

2008-11-23T19:57:00.006-06:00

I don't post many photos of my kids. I worry just a wee bit too much about exposing them online.

But since this is a private site and only friends of mine are allowed to log in, I'm going to post this series of photos from October 13. They're just too great to keep to myself.

Some are from my cellphone. The ones in which she has the greatest expressions were taken by the one and only Ken Baum.

Enjoy.

Conviction in the Murder of George Smith

2008-11-21T21:16:00.000-06:00

A man has been convicted for the murder of family friend George Smith, who was briefly my boss in 1982. Dylan James Laughrey is 25, which means he was not yet born when I worked at Burger Smith.

Smith's former wife Margaret, who is believed to have paid Laughrey to kill George, goes on trial in February.

BB's Most Expensive Wish List Ever

2008-11-20T20:31:00.006-06:00

Here is the wish list that can’t be filled. My entire life I have been blessed with endless riches, it seems, for birthdays and Christmases. Even in the years when I had few ideas, it seems like the people who are special to me had them.

I’m just going to have some fun here. I struggle with the notion of materialism, sure. The cause of suffering is desire, right? End desire, you end suffering.

Well, I’m not the bodhisattva-in-training today. I’m the guy who wishes he had a buncha money, so he could buy:

A Paul Reed Smith McCarty II model. I’ve never even laid hands on one, but as long as I’m wishin’ for just whatever, why not get a hand-crafted guitar that costs two grand or so? And in this hard-tail model only please.

***

Barring that, I’ll take a Carvin Bolt-T kit. I have a fine little Epiphone Les Paul, but for a variety of reasons I have learned that I prefer a Strat-style guitar. I’d like to build the one with the black hardware upgrade and the bridge humbucker with the coil splitter. And again, hard-tail only.

***

I’d also like an Ebow.

It’s a little hand-held gizmo that looks kind of like a travel-size stapler. It creates some sort of magnetic field that vibrates the string for as long as you hold it there. The result? Endless sustain, and violin-like tones. I think the Edge has used this to good effect here and there. It’s pretty nifty, but it’s not $100 nifty.

***

Okay, let’s get just a little crazy here. I’ve told a few of you that if I won the lottery, I’d sure as heck get me a lowrider.

Go ahead and laugh. Many of you (okay, ALL of you) reacted by saying, “I won’t be riding in that thing with you!”

But man, they’re just so cool and ingenious. I’d have to hire someone who knows how to take care of it too though.

***

Or heck, just give me a 1966 Ford Thunderbird.

(Great color!)

***

I’d like to have a lap steel as well.

This is an instrument that makes sense to me, unlike pedal steel, which was apparently designed for only Stephen Hawking to understand.

***

And I’m tired of wires. I want to go wireless in my house so I can just walk around and play my McCarty II. I mean, why shouldn’t I be able to, say, see how my kids’ bath is coming along while playing “Limelight” by Rush?

***

I’d also like the newest generation of multi-track recorder and a good mic and some monitors.

And…

And…

A whole tub of Slim Jims.

(Okay, just kidding).

***

Okay, what crazy/frivolous/expensive/unnecessary thing would you like to have for Christmas? The kind of thing that you might only get if you had a sugar daddy named Bill Gates, you know?

Undone

2008-11-19T10:36:00.001-06:00

Undone
Written by: Robert Earl Keen
CD: Robert Earl Keen - Picnic
From: Andrew@lyonap.force9.co.uk

Intro: C D G C D
D
Fire one up and you toss one down
C
Everybody knows you been downtown
D
Been downtown late last night
C
Busted your head in a barroom fight
D
Fightin' with your brother, fightin' with your wife
C
Seems you've been fighting every day of your life
D
Can't stand still, still can't run
C D G C D C D
You put it all together but it come undone

D
Your soul is junk, your brain is dust
C
All of your memories are eaten up with rust
D
Your nightmare's real, dreams too stark
C
You love the night but you hate the dark
D
Your momma, your daddy, little sister too
C
Told you a secret they were countin' on you
D
You were dying to tell but your dad said son
C D G C D C D
Button your lip but it come undone, undone, undone

D
So they turned you out when you turned them in
C
They told you don't come back again
D
Now the years stack up like old beer cans
C
Dead end jobs, payment plans
D
Broke down trucks, welfare checks
C
Child support, back-seat sex
D
You'd kill yourself but you hocked your gun
C D G C D C D
You built a noose but it come undone, undone, undone, undone

D
So you're livin' in a shack but you wanna be rich
C
And you would if it wasn't for that sonovabitch
D
The sonovabitch, the dirty old whore
C
The butcher, the baker, the grocery store
D
You hate them, they hate you
C
What in the world are you gonna do?
D
It ain't your fault but they need someone
C D G C D C D
To blame it on when they come undone, undone, undone, undone

D
Now the storm's comin' in, the sky's turned black
C
It's too late now, you can't turn back
D
Lightnin' strikes on the telephone wire
C
You're drunk as a skunk, your shack's on fire
D
The wife took the baby and the other two kids
C
The dogs are a-howlin' and the chickens are dead
D
It's your last night out and you're gonna have fun
C (play then mute)
They'll read it in the papers when you come
D G C D C D
undone, undone, undone, undone
C D C D C D G C D
Undone, undone

***

Coming soon: BB's most expensive wish list ever.

More Austin, and BB King Speaks to BB

2008-11-16T22:04:00.004-06:00

A few days ago I was flipping through the terrific book my father gave me last summer, The BB King Treasures. Oddly, on the same day Dad gave me this book out of the blue, I'd brought him a new King CD, a greatest hits compilation.

Anyway, in the book King talks about how he ran away from his father's home at age 14. The bicycle ride back to Kilmichael, Mississippi was about fifty miles. "But on my way there, I got so hungry. I was so hungry I didn't know what to do, because all my money was gone."

He describes getting about 10 miles from his destination and seeing an elderly lady on a porch. With his hat in his hand, he asked her if she could give him something to eat. She smiled and brought him some fresh biscuits.

He never forgot it, and made it a personal policy to always help the hungry.

***

Austin was a pretty doggone good trip. I left work Friday afternoon at about 3:45pm. I needed to make this trip on the cheap, so I had made plans to crash at Toland's place. I packed a cooler full of food since the conference wasn't going to feed the volunteers. I brought my guitar and my suitcase too, and was ready to roll.

I made good time getting down there, though hitting Austin traffic at 6:30pm wasn't fun.

I finally made it to his apartment, and Michael, Liegh, and Maria took me to my old haunt, El Jacalito.

The company was good. We had some laughs, talked about whatever, and ate. I must say, it seemed like El Jacalito had lost a step or three though.

***

That night we visited until late. Maria eventually headed back to Kyle, and he and I dragged out the guitars. That Yamaha 12-string of his always did sound nice. We had a fine time swapping songs. I know we did stuff by Merle Haggard, Porcupine Tree, Anders Parker, and one Michael Toland. Good stuff all. Must've been pushing 1am by the time we shut it down.

I didn't sleep well, but that's been the case rather often lately. I did manage to get up not feeling like I'd been hit by a truck for once. I headed for campus.

***

The conference building stands on what, I believe, used to be the south mall. I think a squirrel once clawed my leg long about there.

Anyway, I found the volunteer coordinator, got a briefing on my duties, and headed for the first presentation.

I knew the presenters, and said a quick hello to them. They discussed a book they're publishing this coming spring. It looks like a good project.

The second session was about substance abuse treatment from the perspective of solution-focused brief therapy. At the time I thought it was a bit more esoteric than necessary, but I actually took the most notes at that session.

On my break, I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the parking lot. The weather was beautiful. Life as good.

The afternoon plenary sessions were pretty interactive, though I kept getting partnered with social workers who weren't familiar enough with SFBT to move along at the clip I would have preferred. It was somewhat useful, but not incredible.

I WAS thrilled that the presenters had video of SFBT guru Steve DeShazer's final session, done in London. It was amusing and brilliant and poignant all at the same time.

***

After the sessions ended, I headed out for a long walk around campus. I walked through the student union, up and down Guadalupe, around the tower, and almost to the school of communications. I felt most drawn to the library, actually. It still smells the same. One semester I had this great break between classes, and I'd often hole up in that library with a book and just lose myself. I loved that.

I really love having no sense of urgency and a bit of freedom.

It was getting cold. I walked across campus back to my car, got in, and headed north, where I promptly got lost.

(Try to contain your surprise).

But I found a bite to eat up on Burnet Road, then stopped in a comic book shop and some deserted coffee shop for a while.

I hit the road later than I meant to, but I'd gotten hung up texting buddies about the UFC fights going on. Gonzaga won, fine. Kenny Florian too, fine. More on that later.

***

At the intersection of 183 and 35, as I waited for the light, I saw a woman holding a sign that read, "Humbly asking for help with a meal."

The light turned green, and as I sped past her I realized that I hadn't eaten even half of the food I packed. It was still in my cooler.

I couldn't exactly turn right around. I exited at Braker, put all my neat little baggies in a big bag, and turned around.

Even as someone who works in a social service agency, I struggle on how to deal with the homeless. While living there in Austin I'd certainly had bad experiences, like getting cursed out by homeless teens on the Drag. I've probably given money to folks who got high or drunk with it, and I've probably ignored people who just wanted a meal, I'm sorry to say.

But her sign touched me, and the BB King anecdote was going through my head.

The light was green when I passed her, but I slowed down almost to a stop and got her attention. I told her, "Ma'am, I packed this lunch for today and didn't need it."

She sounded relieved as she thanked me and blessed me.

***

It was time to hit the road.

***

Funny thing about coffee... one cup coffee = three trips to men's room. I'd gone the whole day on a sleep deficit, and I needed to find said men's room. I figured I'd look for a Starbucks at some freeway exit and find relief of a couple different varieties.

I was all the way to Bellmead when I found one. Ever find yourself trying to stroll casually into the restroom when you really want to RUN LIKE HECK??

Anyway, God bless the USA and Starbucks.

I had my coffee, tried to shake the cobwebs out of my head, and hit the road again.

***

At some point the texts started coming in: Brock Lesnar had defeated Randy Couture. Heartbreaking. I think this is bad in a few ways, but I won't go on about that now.

***

I sang. Sang and sang and sang. Yeah, God bless my iPod too. My voice was hoarse by the time I hit Tarrant County.

***

I was exhausted and wired when I got home. I blogged a bit before crashing. Thank you to everyone who made my trip the success it was.

sights, smells, and sounds

2008-11-16T01:49:00.003-06:00

I am back from a good trip to Austin. Perhaps I'll write a detailed update about it soon, but the highlights included:

An evening with Michael, Maria, and Liegh. He and I played guitar and sang, and no one threatened to shoot us.

The SFBT conference. It worked out so well! And I got to see video of SFBT guru Steve DeShazer's last ever session. It was great in ways I didn't expect.

Walking around the UT campus and taking in the sights, smells, and sounds of my undergrad years. (Well, not all 8 of them... just the 2.5 spent at UT).

A subliminal message from BB King (really)

Bumping into former classmates like Chris and Elliott (okay, I knew Elliott would be there since he was speaking and all)

Peanut butter and jelly in the parking lot

One attention-loving turtle

The new limited edition Alejandro Escovedo live CD/EP. It rocks!

A humble homeless woman

Almost running out of gas half a mile from my house

And finally, the news that Randy Couture LOST to newcomer Brock Lesnar. Dang dang dang.

Get some sleep. Hook 'em.

I want this to rock like thunder!

2008-11-13T22:29:00.004-06:00

Some dumb quotes from Guitar Player magazine.

From a spread on Billy Gibbons' (ZZ Top) guitar rig:

During ZZ Top's 1996 Rhythmeen tour, Billy Gibbons slung a herd of custom "Knife Primativo" guitars built by John Bolin and plugged into the "Lap Dog" (a gutted Alamo amp connect to six Bixonic Expandoras, lower left).

Okay, just the sheer amount of Gibbons-created jibberish kinda busts me up there. Maybe you don't find it as funny as I do.

***

Nick Perri from Shinedown, about guitarist Nick Maybury of Mink:

"We toured together when I was with Perry (Farrell), and he would make me sick to my stomach each night because he is that good."

***

"I'm into textures, dissonance, and anything that's hurtful to the ear." Omar Rodriguez-Lopez of the Mars Volta

***

"I never practice in the traditional sense. When I pick up the guitar, I always want to perform." Yngwie Malmsteen (of course)

***

They reviewed the "new" Fender Champion 600 (it's a reissue), and after saying that the speaker "succumbed to a papery rasp" and that the "(s)tock speaker can sound thin on overdrive tones," they go on to rave that it's "a no-brainer to add to your collection." Honest to God, they mean this because it's only $199, it LOOKS cool, and it sounds decent if you have another amp to plug it into.

Seriously... Fender must have a staff knee-breaker they send out when negative reviews hit print.

***

But for your genuine Spinal Tap moment, check out this quote from Angus Young on recording with his brother, Malcolm:

"Malcolm does inspire me. He has very high standards in his way of playing and everything. He is very musically minded, but he can go to the extremes. Like, if we are in a studio and I'm doing some solos, he'll say, 'I want this to rock like thunder,' and you've got to make it rock. He just says something like that, and you know exactly what it means."

***

Headed to Austin for the conference. Y'all have a great weekend.

BB and the Bag

2008-11-12T22:22:00.002-06:00

BB's current therapy: "Breakfast in Bed" by Dusty Springfield.

***

I'm working out again. I've done it here and there, starting and stopping. I keep walking past the bag in the garage, and I've finally decided to spend some quality time with it. I do five rounds, three minutes each.

***

Round 1: Mixed stuff. Punch combinations, kicks from different angles. Funny how on any given night a different strike seems to be working better than others. Sunday night it was this nasty upward rib kick they teach in Krav Maga. Tonight my punches felt good and strong.

***

Do you feel attractive? Alluring? Desirable? On any given day, does someone special in your life give you any indication that you are in some way special in their eyes?

***

I'm headed to Austin this weekend for a solution-focused brief therapy conference. I'm too poor to pay the hefty registration, so I volunteered to work it instead. All I really have to do is hand out some papers, stamp some CEUs, and I can attend whatever I want. Very cool.

***

Round 2: Mostly kicks. I nail that bag too. I work on turning my hips over like I should, hitting with the shin. I also work a bit on kicks from the side and kicks from the rear (with advance). I have started throwing in some kicks to the head. KM doesn't teach that one, as it's a high-investment maneuver that doesn't often pay off.

***

The Startlegram reports that a local pastor is urging the married folks to have sex every day for a week, starting Sunday.

I gather the full sermon will be posted at some point.

***

Round three. For a minute, I do mixed combos. I like this cross/jab/kick combo. Needs work to make it smooth, but it'll come. Then for the last two minutes I do non-stop jab/cross combos. It's a bear!

***

I need to get back to Krav. It's the place I've felt most comfortable. Yeah, I had some issues with the place, but honestly, I just keep looking for a place just like it when I visit new schools. That, or a place like JMMA.

But Krav Maga Bedford was always good to me. When I was broke, they worked with me. When my son was the only kid who enrolled in the children's program, he basically got a couple months of private lessons for ridiculously cheap. And when his buddy tagged along, they let me teach them. Heck, I had a key to the school for over a year. I never should have given it back!

***

Round 4: Kicks. What else? My arms are pretty useless by that point. David at the KM school always had the most mechanically sound kicks. He'd pivot so well, and WHAM! I always picture that when I kick. I have my moments, but I can't do it like him.

***

I dreamed I was working the SFBT conference, in fact. It was going well, though lunch time came, and they gave me a big jar full of chopped and ground octopus parts to eat.

As a courtesy, I tried one. Wasn't bad! Tasted like ground beef. Still... they looked gross.

***

Speaking of KM, go over to Larry Escher's blog and congratulate him on being one of the very few IKMF-certified civilian instructors in the country.

***

Round 5: Other stuff. Knees (which aren't easy to do on my hanging bag), elbows, and a little bit of shadow boxing to work in some defensive stuff. At that point I've done abs between all the rounds, and I'm spent.

***

Note to self: Nachos do not make good workout fuel.

***

If I don't update again before the conference, ya'll take care, and have a good weekend.

Mindfulness

2008-11-12T14:14:00.001-06:00

Mindfulness is the aware, balanced acceptance of the present experience.

It isn't more complicated that that.

It is opening to or receiving the present moment, pleasant or unpleasant, just as it is, without either clinging to it or rejecting it. --Sylvia Boorstein

Here they are

2008-11-10T22:25:00.004-06:00

My diploma and license came back from the framer today. They look great!

Naturally, my daughter smashed one with a pencil. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth ensued.

Oh, and she was a bit upset as well.

(She didn't do any damage)

Anyway, it occurred to me that once they're hanging up in the church office, I won't see them much.

Gosh.

So I took a photo.

Y'all take care.

Let the Good Times Roll

2008-11-08T23:34:00.006-06:00

I caught Brad Paisley on Letterman last night.

I don't know much about him, but I do know that I have read several letters from metalheads to guitar magazines raving about his guitar playing.

So here was Paisley, and what was he doing? "Let the Good Times Roll," which I know as a BB King song (originally done by Louis Jordan, though probably written by someone else).

I couldn't find a clip from Letterman, but this one's just as good:

Okay, I love his tone, for starters. He solos twice, and the steel player and fiddler both get solos too. He sings one verse twice; not sure why, as he left out the whole "I've got 50 cents more than I'm gonna keep" verse. Still the whole song barely clears three minutes.

I like it!

***

I've heard a lot of versions of the song over the years. It's hard to mess up, but I've seen it done. It's probably blasphemy to say that I'm not a huge Etta James fan, but her brand of blues belting doesn't do much for me ("At Last" aside). I have a video somewhere of her basically bludgeoning the song, and she muffs the very verse I mentioned above, saying, "I've got a a quarter and a nickel, but don't let nobody play me cheap--I've got fifty cents more..." blah blah blah. Do the math.

I guess I fell in love with the song in the mid-80s sometime when I was listening to Together Again...Live by BB King and Bobby "Blue" Bland.

It opens the LP, and goes on for six minutes as everyone vamps. I swear at one point it sounds like King is yelling, "Watch it, Bob, watch it!" and Bland is yelling, "Oh shit!" I mean, was a riot breaking out or something?

Great version

***

Little-known fact.

On the cruise, after I almost sang "Rocket Man," I noticed that the song list also had "Let the Good Times Roll."

I seriously considered going back at some point to sing it. Why not? But then I realized that my travel mates probably didn't know the song, and singing it just for myself was a bit more self-indulgent than I felt up to.

***

Funny, if you look up that song on Youtube, you find lots of covers by little-known blues bands. It's one of the staples of the genre for sure.

***

Gonna wrap it up. Maybe tomorrow I'll blog about our evening at the Greek Festival.

Y'all have a good weekend.

Meet Me on the Ledge

2008-11-08T12:16:00.003-06:00

BB's current therapy: "Meet Me on the Ledge" by Varnaline.

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Early Saturday afternoon. I dreamed about Sherpas last night.

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I am in my pajama pants. Thank God for polar fleece. It must be 55 degrees out there...

***

My hair is a mess. I've had two cups of fine Columbian coffee.

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Heaven help me, I've started listening to Tool again.

***

THEGIRL makes things. Paper things. Her artistic output leaves our living room a mess of scraps. On my lap now is a creature she just made, something she called "an owie wowie."

Last night she made some sort of bus. We both stepped into it and drove laps around the living room.

***

A possible third Robert Johnson photo has been discovered. I may blog about it at some point.

***

And the cat is licking his butt.

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I'm in my flannel Dickies jacket/shirt thingy. My mother always did give terrific gifts.

***

We may go to the Fort Worth Greek Festival today. Looks like a nice day for it.

***

I'm ready to see clients.

Can I really talk for a living?

***

I light all the candles I can find. My home is an altar.