I love it when things make no sense. I'm at my parents house in Maine and my little nephews are here as well, with my sister and her husband. Their 8 year old boy has a pretty heavy duty looking little scooter. The name of the scooter is the "Kent Street Ready!!" It's emblazoned on the side of the scooter in jagged dramatic lettering. I was looking at it the other day and realized that almost directly above the words KENT STREET READY SCOOTER was a small sticker that said "Warning! Do Not Ride In Street!!"

????WTF?????

It was homecoming this weekend in Dover-Foxcroft Maine, so on Saturday morning there was a big small town parade. One of the floats featured the "Heartwise Team" which I believe was sponsored by the local hospital. Their mission, I assume, is promoting healthy, "heart-safe" living. So I had to chuckle to myself a bit when I saw a couple of them later on in the day at the street fair downtown, loading up at the Mary's Italian Sausages stand and then topping it all off with a couple of deep-fried sweet "doughboys", all while still obliviously wearing their "Heartwise" t-shirts.
Classic

 

OMG...can't stop.....laughing...wheeeeze...
The Onion does it again

Sooo...I'm in Maine with the wife and kids. Getting here was accomplished by flying from Sacramento(departure at 6:50 am-yay!!) to Portland, Maine with one layover in D.C. My daughter turned 3 in May, and my son will be one in August. Let me say this about flying cross country with two kids in tow. Somewhere over the midwest I stopped praying for a safe flight and started praying that the plane would plunge into whatever mountain range or cornfield was the closest. Then, of course, being the selfless person I am, I realized that this wasn't exactly fair to the other passengers , although I'm sure the people in our immediate area shared my dream. Instead I began to fantasize about what I could do to cause enough ruckus to: 
A) get myself arrested upon landing 
B)get my own cell
C)be released after a couple days of peace and solitude, to enjoy the rest of the week with family.
None of that stuff happened, but United did manage to completely lose our luggage so Joni and I could enjoy the sweaty, drool covered clothing we flew in all day for yet another day. Actually, upon arriving we scooted over to a nearby Target (since the entire United States are now  all one homogenized shopping center) and mananged to scoop up some shorts, polos, a Barbie, jeans and pajamas, etc. for about $25.00 since they were all made for a quarter by some 10 year old kid in China or Bangladesh. Hey, I'm not complaining, really. It's kind of like something one of the comedians who auditioned for Last Comic Standing said. In his case, he said, "I look at global warming like I look at my weight. I know it's a problem, but really, what can I do about it?" Just substitute "our enormous trade defecits with countries who are infamous for horrific human rights violations" for "global warming". You and I know, we're all kind of stuck with out any other choice being offered to us. And really, it's not like any American kids want to work. They just want to be magically rich and famous these days, or perhaps become the top sniper in online battle stats for Gears of War. 
In our case anyway, it's not like we would have wanted to seek out the local craftsman to fashion us hand made clothing from deer pelts at 9pm after flying for 8 or 9 hours. But I digress.
The real victims here are the kids. My nephews to be exact, who now have to wait an extra couple of days for my Guitar Hero controllers to show up from Fed Ex, who is apparently responsible for shipping our luggage to us, hopefully before we leave next Tuesday. I must say though, that in all my years of flying I think my luggage has only not met me at the destination twice. However, both times, it was United and it was in Maine. BOOO!
More to come. It's time for a late lunch

Hey all, I'm in Maine this week, back in the house that I grew up in. There's going to be a lot to tell.This is where it all began for me, and let me tell you, it's an entirely different planet than California. Well, not completely different now, since there's a Starbucks in every Lobster shack. More to come....

Okay. I told myself that this blog would stick to quirky and fairly benign observations and goings on in my life, but I ran across this article in the most recent issue of the Sacramento News and Review (for the week of 7/19/07-7/26/07) while drinking my favorite IPA at the Rubicon Brewery here in Sacramento. When I got to the end of it and tears were literally stinging my eyes behind my sunglasses, I decided that this absolutely needed to be passed on. Let me preface this by saying that I have ne real political affiliation. I am an issue by issue person. There are two issues right now that are absolutely imperitave for all of us to address purely as HUMAN BEINGS and not in the context of political parties. They are THE ENVIRONMENT and the WAR IN IRAQ. This article deals with the latter.
 Normally I have to take the SN&R with a grain of salt. They are every bit as sensationalistic as the more mainstream media outlets. They often let  a snarky tone of sarcasm invade their writing and, from time to time rely on "edgy" coolness to compensate for  obviously spotty  research . They absolutely contribute to the poo-flinging between perceived "liberals" and "conservatives".  This article did none of those things. It simply illustrated real HUMAN loss in terms that were poetic without being obtuse. Read it and weep, and then ask yourself what is worth dying for. Ask yourself what your son or daughter is worth to you. Then ask yourself why the current administration doesn't even consider your children worth counting as the numbers of the dead continue to grow.

http://www.newsreview.com/sacramento/Content?oid=352837

My daughter has turned into Triumph the Insult Comic Dog. She turned 3 in May and the last few months have been all about potty training which means that everything is about Poop. She is going to "poop on Eli" (her little brother). She is going to poop on me. She is going to poop on her mommy. Everything is now there for her to poop on. She is constantly singing "Who..who...who...who let the POOPY OUT??!!" 

MY GOD, WILL THAT "SONG" EVER GO AWAY??!!

Newsflash!!

All the novelty one -hit -wonder songs that you hated when they were popular because they were engineered to be precisely irritating enough to STAY IN YOUR HEAD no matter how much you hated them will be immediately appropriated by your child if they should happen to hear them in passing. The song will then be twisted to suit your childs own personal interests at that moment.  Which, in this case means that every song will be about....you guessed it...poop. The newly revised song will then be repeated indefinately. louder - and - LOUDER- each - and - EVERY - TIME.
What kind of twisted mindwarp is this parenthood thing anyway? Have you ever imagined a scenario outside of some West Hollywood sex dungeon where you would be standing over someones poop, praising them for it. Have you ever thought you would "name" a poop and then wave cheerfully to the glistening dark lump as it launched into it's swirling voyage into oblivion?

Welcome to parenthood.

can't....move...or speak....without extreme effort. I decided that Monday, of all days, would be a good candidate for a near all-nighter, because it makes my next day at work so deliciously unbearable. The Eric McFadden Trio ( www.ericmcfadden.com ) was flogging away at Marylin's on K street last night and my friend Matthea got me out to witness it, a rare occassion these days as I continue my indefinite hermitage in the land of the unfinished "record".(yeah, I still call 'em records, so there!).
I had a decent time, but mostly because I got to hang out with friends I had not seen in quite some time, namely Anndrija(and I know I am probably butchering the spelling of your beautiful name, my dear, so forgive me). She showed me her newest tattoo, a fantastically rendered portrait of her grandmother from her 1920's era yearbook photo. The subtlety of the shading and the fine detail of the linework was breathtaking.
I've had a couple of opportunities to get tatt'd up, but was never compelled to wear something permanently. After seeing the portrait of Anndrija's grammy, I realized I could very much see myself covering the upper portion of my back with a "family tree" of sorts. Maybe, in the future when I have a couple grand to drop that hasn't been earmarked for my studio or a home project or some sort of travel experience, I'll consider it. I'll try to track down some info on the woman who did the tattoo and link it here.

So, as always happens when I go out, I didn't stick to the plan, which was to not drink anything and be home by midnight so I wouldn't be dead on my feet today. To try to ensure that I stuck to plan, I brought a bare minimum of cash with me. yeahhhhh....that didn't work. The devil knows how his bread gets buttered. As soon as I walked in, Matthea had a some kind of combo tequila shot going on, and I was included. Strike one. I had a cigarette and contemplated why in the world I was smoking a cigarette. That was followed by shot number 2, because the first one was lonely and languishing about without any company. Unfortunately, shot number 2 had a stowaway. As he was making the run downtown, Matthea came up with shot number 3. She was so glowing with old school summer tan power (none of this spray-on b*lls**t-we're talking serious hours logged at Folsom Lake) that the chilled drink seemed to take on magical properties that wooed me with its promises of golden light and charm. YUM!
So, it was about 11:00pm and I was a few shots in, which meant that it was that point in the night when I just disappear with out a word. Yup. I just walk out and leave. Don't ask me why. I could be right in the middle of a conversation, but I will excuse myself and go. Because it is time.

10 minutes and many hushed prayers later, I was at the Golden Bear meeting my friend Pete, another musician. Guess who works at the Golden Bear. My friend Tyler-yet another musician. Guess what he gave me. Yes, another drink. Yes, free.
It was time to go.
I made it home and it was only 12:30 am. So I went straight to my studio and got to work on a song called "Bad Self". Until 2:00.
And here I am. At work. Moaning...

this is a test...this is only a test
woweeee!