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Happy Easter!

About a week ago I was at a barbecue. An early spring Friday night, there were beers in hand, coals kicking out heat, and a general sense of calm- another week’s labors laid to rest. It was a good crowd- friends and friends of friends. Conversation was flowing and eventually it turned to the matter of getting the grilling underway. One who was present mentioned that he’d step out to get a bite to eat as this was a barbecue and he could not eat meat as it was a Friday during Lent.

I was a little puzzled because earlier in the conversation he had discussed being Syrian and I just never thought of Catholicism being practiced in Syria. I was brought up Catholic. The nuns at my church were mostly from Ireland and we’d get visiting priests and deacons from all over the place- the Philippines, Mexico, Germany, even Boise in the distant land of Idaho! Now I consider myself an atheist, but I do enjoy reading about various religions and while I get that there are probably Catholics in every country it just seemed a little -I don’t know- improbable that I would meet a Syrian Catholic. So having a couple beers in me and enjoying the warm night air, I went ahead and asked him: Are you Catholic or is this just some kind of spiritual exercise you’re doing?

And then I was introduced to the Syriac Orthodox Church.

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The sounds of gettin’ down.

I know a guy who’s managed to land a date with a woman of legendary beauty. I haven’t even seen a picture of her and I know she is beautiful because you can see it in his eyes when he talks about her. It’s also pretty obvious because he’s fretting about what kind of tunes he should have available when he brings her into his place.

From the outside this is hilarious because if you were to meet him you’d never guess this was a concern. He’s everything a version of me would have wanted to grow up to be- funny, a good story teller, easy going, musically gifted, nonchalant, a bit of a rock gawd but not too much when he’s not on stage. Basically this guy is the sort that you see in a bar and figure the toughest decision he’s facing for the night is just how many ladies he can take home without seeming greedy. So like I said, it’s pretty funny to see him get that far away look in his eyes and ask for ideas of what the right tunes are. I figured all the music he needed was a simple snap of his fingers followed by a finger pointing to his car.

I suppose even if you’re good lookin’ it’s not always that easy.

So what follows here is the result of Miss J going through our music library and pointing out the sexy.
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Season Wrap-up

J Street is one of those shows that’s been on an untold amount of time. I don’t really know how long, but I know that whatever episodes happened before you start watching are a little tough to watch. Unfamiliar cast, different writers, set and lighting changes, all that.

In its way I guess it’s kind of like Doctor Who. There’s even been a Tardis spotting.

But no sonic.

Anyway, in relation to where I came in I wrapped up my fourth season over the weekend.

As season finales go, it could have been much more bombastic. I was really kind of expecting the compound to explode for awhile there, but I guess a huge scene like that would have been tough to fit inside the minimal budget. I don’t want to give any spoilers, but you can feel safe knowing that none of the major characters were devoured by wolves and the new members are all slotting in pretty well.

Here’s to the 2011 season. With spring’s thaw we should have some interesting times ahead.



(This might be cheating. I don’t care.)


So that something might be here.

It’s probably hard to tell what with my sporadic posting, but my internal goal here is to get something up once a week. Most of my free time comes on the weekend, so that’s when I’ve done most of the writing that I’ve put up here. Unfortunately I spent most of this weekend working on a kind of eyes only project. Read the rest of this entry »

sketch book 01

Here is a sketch of a thing. I don’t see fleshing it out into anything, but it’s helpful to me to mess with an idea and see where it goes.

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(The Ice-Cream Story)

One night (I was living in Montucky at the time) I decided I would like a root beer float. Living alone at the time, I had to arrange the thing myself. Being too lazy to drive to the store at the time, I had to procure the ingredients from the gas station a block from my apartment. To wit: ice-cream (vanilla) and root beer (pref. Barq’s Famous Old Tyme).

I found the Barq’s straight away and then headed for the frozen goods bin. Lo and behold, there were several flavors of ice-cream… but no vanilla. This presented complications. Childhood experiments had taught me that chocolate was no good for floats so I extended that result to mint chocolate chip and strawberry and whatever the hell else was in there. Neapolitan was present, but I had no interest in all the trouble involved in gutting the vanilla out. Besides, those childhood gustatory experiments had also revealed that while neapolitan can be something of a treat, its component parts- the chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla- were never best in class.  So I was kind of stuck, faced with a deep yearning for a root beer float and only having half the ingredients on hand. That’s when I spotted the fix.

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Best be postin’

Okay, I swear I have something really deep and profound to put here. But it’s only percolating.

And I don’t believe I was invited in for percolations. So let me let you all in on a little secret.

In a different life, if the cards had fallen some other weird way, I would have been a musician. But they didn’t fall that way so all I can do is oooh and ahh whenever I see interesting musical thingums.

so pritty

so pritty

That right there is an Eigenharp. I do not have the words to explain its majesty, so I’ll just let this link and its youtube clippery do the ‘splainin. Basically, it’s a full-on synth/sequencer/amazingizer that would have all and sundry clutching at their faces to keep them from melting off OR falling right down into the most peaceful and lurvely slumber as I mess around with drones and loops. That last sentence takes place in the world where I was a musician.

In this world, I have to watch the videos and be content in the knowledge that the device will cost a great deal more than I could ever justify. As it should. Because if it were affordable for me, I would bring it home, talk a great deal about how awesome it is, fiddle with it for a few evenings, and then let it rest in its case. Others would call it a waste, but I would have a smile in the corner of my heart.

When you have Excalibur, you do not use it to chop kindling or carve turkeys. You keep it safe and know that when it is time to smite evil or caress divinity, it is there.