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Whinge
Recently Enjoyed
posted: 03/27/07
- Lovers of the Arctic Circle (Los Amantes del Círculo Polar).
- Dropping off my main guitar at David Berkowitz' new shop in D.C. to have some stuff done to it. Good stuff. Talking twang.
- Realizing I need a more reliable backup guitar, though my ancient $42 Harmony sounds remarkably nice. Too bad it's set up like a cobblestone street. Looking at what's out there. Finding things. Many things. Wondrous things, in a sea of crap.
- Quarlo.com.
- Finding a fabulous new, very orange alpine pack.
- Cait O'Riordan singing "I'm a Man You Don't Meet Every Day."
- That scene, a line, really, in About Last Night, where Bernie and Danny are drinking outside, and they're blotto, and Danny says he loves the woman he's lost (which he exclaims after relating the previous night's aborted romantic mingling with a different woman who is not the above on account of he "had his eyes closed and was thinking of someone else" [Woman The First]), and Bernie, after a grand pause, says: "YEEEEEaaaaaaaah." I just love the way Belushi (Jim) plays that line. I use it a lot, inflection included, even when sober. So now you know.
- Developing a very quick, very dirty failcase for reproducing "Action Cancelled." Phenomenally simple.
- Home Movies, the animated late-night show (to which I am addicted) making it very difficult for me to have an early morning.
- Remembering "Cartoon Sunday Nights," in which I would, every Sunday night for about a year running, watch, in rapid fire, "King of the Hill," "The Simpsons," some flipping due to scheduling, "Dr. Katz." All the while I would drink a particularly noxious concoction I hold that I invented, which basically consisted of one part reasonably fresh orange juice and one part Hornsby's Cider (with a rhino head logo, as I recall). I tell you, just about anything is funny after that. Until it's morning. My life in those days (about five to six years ago) was pretty much like a John Cheever novel, with less expensive drinks. I'm better now. I think.
- ID'ing many of the same folks involved in "Dr. Katz" on "Home Movies."
- Casting aspersions.
- Six Feet Under, though it's making me feel even creepier than usual.
- John Coltrane: A Love Supreme
- A beautiful red whose vintner and vintage I forget.
- Steve Andersen's work.
- Higher relative humidity.
- Mary's stuff.
- This march I've been trying to wring into submission since I came up with its opening section while watching The Grammys, whenever that was.
- Just going freakin' nuts, man.
- Kevin's stuff.
- Peter Gabriel's "Washing of the Water."
- Say Anything. For the seven thousandth time.
- Trying to decide, in light of several trashy magazine articles lately, whether I'm a "Good Boy" or a "Bad Boy."
- Dating this file "3_11," then realizing that in addition to marking a date, it's also a band name. Wondering if every March 11th the boys in the group have a little party in Jersey as the date comes around, as such. Or if they just go, "Whoa. Freaky."
- Later, in the car, tuning into a local station and hearing them being interviewed on the radio, and being wished "A Happy 3/11 Day."
- Making fun of France. Relaying stories of fun having been made of France.
- The promise of reflexology.
- The Power of Positive Thinking.
- Pork loin. Or was it beef loin? I think the latter. Loin was involved, at any rate.
- Hearing that Adam Brodsky refers to children as "loin fruit."
- While eating loin of some kind.
- Happy Mondays.
- Unmentionables.
- Being stuck in the '80s.
- Reliable mail delivery.
- Not finding anything worth buying at the guitar shop.
- Playing Irish tunes, most of them sounding very bright and cheery, but having the saddest names. Like this one: Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded?, played on my newly acquired Taylor 512, internal pickup direct to USB (so the sound isn't as nice as me mic'd stuff), 1:49, 1.67MB.
- Being 95% analgesic-free.
- Driving the speed limit.
- Hearing from Mom.
- That one email that you sent. Hoo lawdy. That sure was funny. Have you considered a career in stand up? Yeah, I've gotten that too.
- Getting my Irish up.
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