What I Learned from Blitzen Trapper

First off, that I miss ALBUMS. You know, those things that you used to rush to the record store to buy all big and flat and shiny and smelling of shrink-wrapped awesomeness? And you'd drop the needle down on track one, side one, and it would be like a microcosm of the rest of the universe you were about to be opened to ... one beautiful thing leading into another, interrupted maybe occasionally by something not so great, but not worth getting up off the sofa to move the needle to the next track enough times that it eventually grew on you.

So I'd heard of this band with the quirky name. (Folk rock. Eh.) And I gave them a shot when NPR posted their newest thing live online (which treat, unfortunately ends today when the album is released tomorrow). Then from the moment that it started streaming into my head, I was in smooth in love.

They are truly their own beast; but I have to say that if you have ever been head over heels with a Beatles ballad or an ELO or Wings anthem or a Tom Petty ode, or a Gram Parsons ditty, this heaven-to-hell-and-all-points-in-between Destroyer Of The Void might be the soundtrack to your coming summer, too.

It is already mine: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=127035190

Beset by Demons

I got hit by a nasty little piece of malware yesterday and spent most of last night trying to get rid of it and am back at it this morning; and am pretty sure that Reverend King's dream didn't include some white chick celebrating his birth by spending all day trying desperately to find a fix for some rogue app that kills you with pop-ups and randomly installs shortcuts to porn.

But hey, the next time you want to have a Nerd Nervous Breakdown, Spyware Doctor with Anti Virus is there to help because every time it finds a problem, it will make that same alarm sound that the spaceships make before an airlock jams and everybody, including that one lead character that you were so sure would make it back home for the heartwarming reunion, dies a horrible death. Because loud grating alarm sounds are exactly what you need while your computer is raining pop-ups, oh and did I forget occasionally launching audio that extols the virtues of the new Neon or NBC's Friday night lineup? And also inviting you to surf porn.

As you were.

Meanwhile, Rick James

There’s not really much I can do to explain the many months of nonprolificness going on around here except to say for the umpteenth time that there really has been a lot of work going on and I’ve been sort of powerless to find the “free” time to do this thing I (used to) do. The worst result of not writing purely for fun is that I’ve gotten out of the habit; and if you know me in any sense, you know that’s sort of like saying I’ve lost a valuable involuntary reflex like that my lids no longer close when I sneeze to stop my eyeballs from prolapsing out of my skull.

So here’s the deal. There’s still a lot of work going on, but I’ve decided to make the time to write anyway. Now, it might be at the expense of other annoyingly time-consuming stuff including but by no means limited to showering regularly or actually chewing my food or whatever; but indigestion is a small price to pay for reclaiming my personal self-expression. And it’s not like you can smell me over the Internet. Yet.

So let’s get down to the biznitch: Hi, I’m Mo. Yeah, we met a while back and I don’t expect you to remember … just bear with and it’ll come back to you. Possibly in disturbing waves.

Buckle Up.

So the most major thing that that has happened around here lately is that my son, who was only the day before yesterday drooling into a bib and stuffing Cheerios cheerfully up his nose, is now this tall, long-haired, fashionable, and mostly nice-smelling male person in fedora hats and Levi’s flares with a very deep voice and intelligent gray-eyed gaze, all of which artfully combine to make grown women in Target who should absolutely know better fluff their hair and turn around to get another look.

But then when you’re fairly convinced that you’re conversing with an actual and apparent grown-up about things like the emerging ecosciences and the turning tide against epidemic consumerist greed; he very seriously adds that it’s about time somebody invents a machine that harnesses the power of farts and is it 8:00 yet because there’s a new Ben 10.

And while I’m ready for the ManBoy stage, I’m not ready for him to be rushed through it by grown-looking outsides that are already rampantly writing checks that his 13-year-old insides aren’t equipped to cash as he becomes increasingly appealing to a certain demographic that includes a disproportionate number of teachers in Florida, and this parenting business that I’ve been repeatedly certain could get none more odd has just taken on a whole new dimension of what the holy hell?

So that's me today. You?

Parenting Short Cuts

Tip #7: Never underestimate the suggestive power of sheer genetics.

Me: "Now that my stuff is out of the way, I'll make it up to you by doing something that's fun only for you."
Sam: "Let's go get Slurpees and crank some Tesla to eleven on the way."
Me: "Well, if that's your idea of a good time, I guess I'll just deal."

Next Stop, Union Station - DC

GIRL TRIP!!!

Orchids

Today started with coffee and art books and progressed to sketching, and then the happy realization that our new, friendly neighborhood fabric store (while there for "bum roll" supplies, but more on that later) also carries canvasses.

Perhaps a few too many of those art books were about Van Gogh.

V-1

The dream about being chased by two Rastafarians in an orange Gremlin and the cartoon spider that turned into a real one.

V-2

We rediscover that Nick Drake is *almost* as good as Xanax.

Giant Cheesy Balls

No, this is not going to be a post about the IRS, though I know the subject line may have confused you on that point.

Thing is, I know you guys rely on me for the more importantly retarded bits of information that you need to stay alive; and on that count, I am sorry that I have not recently been there for you. I hope that this will, in some small measure, make up for that. Besides being sort of like somebody made a YouTube video of my actual Sense of Humor, the following product endorsement showcases a new item about which I am very excited. And by very excited, I mean MARRY ME, FRITO-LAY.



If that does not make your Friday Happy, I do not know what could.