The most exciting thing that's happened in my life is the arrival of my own 4-port USB hub shaped like the TARDIS from England (part of that questioned order I mentioned a while back; with luck the rest will trickle in eventually, too). Now, while any ol' hub would be fine, this one has a glowing light on top and makes the TARDIS engine noises when you plug things in. What's not to love?

And so goes my exciting life. I has a TARDIS, and I've been keeping up with most of my friends' journals. This is an accomplishment!

I went (or am going through) another crisis of "why the hell do I even bother?" in regard to my writing, but I dutifully have hunkered down and critiqued the others in my writers' groups (or at least, I got many of them done, I have a few more to go) and will post more. At least beta readers are readers! One of them helpfully informed me that he worked with a friend on a self-published release, and even with all their friends spreading the word they still only managed to sell 500 copies. And I thought, "Well, that's 500 more people reading than I have currently." I really don't want (or expect, really) to make money as an author. I know I'd have to be John Grisham or Stephen King to do that. I just would like people to read my work and say, "I enjoyed that." (Without the added "you need to fix X, X, and Y." I like criticism, I do, but...) I think that's why I hung around RSI as long as I did, despite the lack of real money and the real lack of any respect (or gratitude) from my employers.

Dang, Bo Diddley passed away. :'( Now, I understand why he (and other great black artists of the 50's) get a little uptight about Elvis being mistakenly credited with the "invention" of rock-n-roll. But Elvis himself never said that, and I believe never would have; what Elvis DID was allow black music to be played in white households, which was absolutely unheard of in those days, and he broke the black/white barrier in music. It's a shame Elvis gets painted with a negative brush that wide when all he wanted to do was bring music he loved to everyone... There isn't anyone who wouldn't admit that Bo Diddley's beat was/is the backbone of rock music.

My arm is really hurting again (or still); I was doing a lot of reading about rotator cuff injuries and it doesn't seem like it's severe, despite my pain, because I have full range of motion and it doesn't hurt when I stretch it up (in fact, that feels really good). What DOES hurt is lifting, pushing, pulling, and twisting. So anyway, I downloaded some exercises, and I've gone back to low weights, etc.

A brief moment to meme, snicked from canarynoir:

( Here )

Non-PC thought of the day: Obama is winning because, even these days, America is still more likely to vote for a guy than a gal, even a black guy.

Best thing about the TV season ending: I'm finally watching some of the DVDs I bought.

I cannot, cannot believe I actually seriously considered missing this show for even one second.

I didn't go to the show to review it, I just went as a fan. Which meant I didn't bring anything - no journal to note things in, and no camera... (although, silly fan here, I didn't bring anything new for him to sign); and oh, didn't Dale look amazing! I was regretting the lack of a camera right from the start. Last time he was here, he had the plain vest showing off his tattoo "sleeves." This time, he was decked out as a Texas gentleman. And how could I not review, just a little, one of the best shows I've seen in an age?

Or maybe the best - it's been a while since one of the good ol' honky-tonkers has been around these parts. Since Dave Insley left the valley, the pickings have been slim. (Now, that's not entirely fair or true, but I'm old and picky and work early mornings... and so many places around here only showcase Americana artists on Tuesdays and Wednesdays... excuses, excuses...)

Dale showed up pretty much spot on at 8:30, looking slick in his ruffled shirt and fine black coat (much like the cover of From the Cradle to the Grave), and laid down some fine tunes (he started with "Whiskey or God"), taking requests from the audience immediately ("What'd'ya wanna hear?") and playing for a full hour and a half, interspersing songs with fun chat and stories (he's funny - lifting each shot of tequila with a very sincere, "Now, I don't drink normally, but...") before he took a little break. He signed autographs and posed for pictures (argh! I should have remembered the camera! I could have added another portrait to my collection!), talking with folks for about twenty minutes or so before he took to the stage again, and played ANOTHER hour -

And like all great performers, he still left us wanting more. He wasn't even able to get to his two new singles, "Hollywood Hillbilly" or "And Justice For All" - although he tried to perform the latter, a couple of times, but he was always willing to do whatever song someone called out instead, and before you knew it, the show was over. He was fun, he was personable, and most of all, he was COUNTRY.

Now I know Dale doesn't call his music country anymore to avoid being associated with what they're calling "country" these days, and really, who can blame him? (As he said, he can't tell the difference between Britney Spears and Carrie Underwood or Faith Hill and Celine Dion - boy, ain't that the truth? But to me, country music will always be what Dale does - like a few of the boys out there singing real country music (all his fellow Austinites, like Roger Wallace, and my relocated boy Dave Insley, or Houston shitkicker Jesse Dayton), and I will call it country. They can't take THAT away from me!

I want, need, MUST get to Austin. I want to go to Ginny's Little Longhorn and the Broken Spoke. I want to go where "country music is alive and kickin' every night." I'm so glad the Rhythm Room had a great crowd last night - lots of folks whoopin' and hollerin' (and even some folks who followed him in from Austin).

Dale was a true gentleman and remembered me, even though we've only met twice; but the first time I saw him (at the Cajun House, in Scottsdale), there was no crowd and it seemed like coming to Phoenix was a waste for him. Thank goodness for the Rhythm Room! (I have to note that if it weren't for Dale, I wouldn't even know Dave Insley - opening for Dale that night back in 2002 was a group called Trophy Husbands, who, despite only releasing two albums, remain one of my favorites of all time. One of their number was Dave. I found him just before the release of his first solo album because I was looking to see what they'd been up to.)

Anyway, I really can't run off to these shows without a camera. Man, Dale looked good. And he sounded better. This picture was snagged from Dale's MySpace page - it's pretty much taken exactly from where I was sitting (although not at the same gig); this is the basic view I had:



I really am sorry I didn't bring the camera. Mostly I didn't because we haven't gotten around to getting a new battery (theoretically, it can take plain AA, but that wouldn't be rechargeable), and it doesn't really hold a charge very long anymore.

ANYWAY, if anyone out there really enjoys good music, check Dale out. And if he comes by your place, do yourself a favor and go!!! He's FUN. And good.

Because I'm kinda tired of posting when I'm feeling all melancholy, but for some reason, the PMS is not fading. I'm sitting here feeling misty reading perfectly wonderful posts from friends. Grrr. If only there were some REASON for feeling blue!!!

It was a great weekend, too. We puttered around a little on Saturday, got some stuff at Costco, roamed around Tuesday Morning a little (didn't find what I went looking for), then had a fun movie night in with framefolly and sillymagpie; the former had never before seen Throw Mama From The Train, which is really a necessity for any writer, and it'd been years since I'd seen it, so we dug out the ol' VHS and had a laugh fest. Sunday we drove out to a closeout store in Mesa, where I found out that Denny's will still cook eggs sunny-side-up (although their breakfast menu has REALLY shrunk, despite their new spate of commercials), and the store itself was not too bad, although since it's new, there wasn't a vast selection yet. I did buy a couple of shirts... now realizing I should NOT have spent any money, because now I HAVE NONE, and it's still five days until payday, and I'm trying to figure out where I'm going to get the $12 to go see Dale Watson tomorrow night at the Rhythm Room. Yes, 12 measly dollars, which would be no problem had I not spent $20 on clothes I didn't need.

ARGH. (It's the little things.)

I do have a jar full of change on my bureau, though.

Not that I'll have anything on Friday, either - I have doctor's bills still from the surgery AND I need new glasses. (I'm not even going to go into what the truck needs done. Hopefully she'll hang on for a while longer.)

Last week while working, a very familiar name crossed my desk, and I learned that the son of some old friends (I guess former friends is the correct term) had been run over and rather seriously hurt. Now, I haven't seen this kid since he WAS a kid, around 6 - he's 22, now, and he was riding a bicycle when he was hit. It gave me a weird feeling. I know these people, yet haven't spoken to them in more than a decade, so what does one do besides feel sorry in the same way one does for any stranger in similar circumstances? It was weird.

I'm tired, I didn't go to the gym today (I hurt my hip stretching yesterday; not really sure how, but it really freakin' hurts), the scale says I put BACK on three pounds (I was not careful this weekend), and I have not so much P-MS as plain MS, since there's no longer anything pre about it (finally - in the realm of TMI, it took FOUR DAYS for the damned thing to actually start). Gad. Grumptastic.

I never seem to post good news. I'm always feeling melancholy when I have a chance to post anything. It's not like I expected anything to come of the Amazon novel contest, but still, getting the "sorry, you're not a semi-finalist" has made me all "kick the can, what's the point, why am I kidding myself with this writing thing anyway?" *sigh*

It's not like I don't have good things happening, after all. Things are going well at work (I'm expecting a nice raise), we're all nicely in the black when it comes to money (or will be, when I pay off the Christmas stuff, not counting the new mortgage, which is counted as "good debt"), we has great kitchen, I have the best partner in the world, I just installed my brand-new surround-sound DVD/CD theatre system (my tenth anniversary giftee from my office), it should all be good.

Yet I'm all weepy. No wonder Vulcans eschewed emotions.

It may also be the whole writer's strike thing. I want my shows back. All I'm watching are talk shows (Craig Ferguson and Ellen). Of course, there were new shows last night, but I TIVO'd them since sillymagpie couldn't be here, so I'll probably watch 'em on Friday.

And one of my favorite independent singers, quite possibly the greatest country singer alive today (because I have no problems at all with putting him in the same category with Hank Sr., Johnny Cash, and Lefty Frizzell), is FINALLY getting some mainstream acknowledgement, with his newest video going into rotation on CMT (and believe me, he puts the country back in that station identification): Dale Watson's Hollywood Hillbilly. I don't know if it's worth sitting through any CMT for, but the video is at YouTube. (I've been able to embed a You Tube video once successfully, but I'm too tired to figure it out again right now...)

And speaking of indie singers, Dave Insley's new album will be coming out in March, featuring some of his best stuff from his live shows.

So I should be happy. I will be. Dang it. I have a Torchwood to watch, after all (probably tomorrow).

Someone on rahirah's F-list sent us some Mighty Fine cookies. I'm not sure of your LJ name, but if you read my journal, as well, then thanks! They're YUMMY!


ETA:
( I meant to save these articles... )

Oy, I skip LJ for just one night and everyone I read posts at least once, if not twice or multiple times! I didn't log on anything last night because I made beef stew for dinner (which came out well), then baked a cake for today's B-day party at work (French vanilla cake with coconut-cream ganache filling) - there are TWO, count them, TWO females in my unit who don't like chocolate!!! Are they mutants? What is wrong with this world?

One fellow who claims he "doesn't care for sweets" usually brings bagels which amount to all sweet ones (cinnamon, blueberry, etc.) with all sweet blend cream cheeses (honey almond, maple sugar, etc.). So I, who like savory bagels, arrived this morning with a nice combination of sweet & savory, with at least one savory cream cheese. Unfortunately, he'd gotten there earlier with the sweet stuff again, so most people had already had their bagels. At least I got my seeded bagel with chive-and-herb cheese on it... (Plus, he usually brings Einstein Bros. round bread, while I trucked out to Bruegger's for the Real Thing - and got an extra dozen for us at home, too.)

Until today, I hadn't heard they cancelled Drive. Dang it. Tim Minnear is cursed, I suppose. Why can't quirky little shows gain an audience fast enough to please TV execs? Oh, well.

And in keeping with the current trends, I present my Daemon:



I need to read the books, now. I keep MEANING to...

Currently I'm reading The Laughing Jesus, which, while a little over-the-top ranty in some places (which I can acknowledge even if I agree with the authors), is, so far, a fairly interesting tear-down of the historical inaccuracies in the Old Testament, working up to the New.

Has been a quick week. Once again I'm wasting time on LJ when I should be finishing up a review - fortunately, it's mostly written, just needs a little extra, some polish, and spellcheck, then it will be off. Dale Watson is one of my personal favorites, so reviewing his new work is quite easy. I have been having the feeling that the person who runs the About.com page for country music (or the country music page for About.com, is more accurate) is also starting to lose interest - she's not been riding roughshod on us like usual lately, and she's been forgetting assignments (which has been fine with me, really, although one of them I promised the artist I'd do - and it's pretty good, just... you know, meh). Anyway, work has been decent, things are moving along swimmingly.

I lost another few pounds! I was 155 at the doctor's office this morning (just getting a renewal of my allergy prescription). Dance the dance of joy! Then I ate bagels for breakfast and pizza and cake for lunch, but what the hey.

rahirah and I entered the last half of the 20th Century at last - we caved and got cell phones. Now I have to figure out all its nifty little functions, like how in the world do you put real songs on there for ringtones? (Not that anyone ever calls me, but hey, the girl who sits in the cubicle across from me has "White and Nerdy" playing on hers, and our Team Leader's phone plays "It's a Small World.")

Tomorrow I hit the spa first thing and then yoga. What a relaxed, somewhat enlightened soul I'm turning into!

Oh, today the nurse practitioner who checked me in said, "Age?" and I replied, "42," and she said, "32?" Cool, huh?

I have to get a root canal tomorrow. Don' wanna. (kicks at the dirt)

Am I getting too old, when I really don't want to go to a free concert? I'm being given a media pass and a photo pass, but it's a long drive for groups I really ain't too interested in (other than Cross Canadian Ragweed, who are the only ones I AGREED to see) - and the publicity folks coordinating the whole thing apparently didn't listen to me at all and is trying to set me up to interview Chris Young (ugh) and/or Trace Adkins (okay, I guess, but... meh) - rather than CCR. But all I know for sure about Country Thunder is it's going to be nearly 90 degrees on Saturday, it's almost all the way to Florence, it's dusty, crowded, expensive (media passes notwithstanding), and, at a guess, the crowd is going to skew to about an average age of 22. They want me to review Gretchen Wilson, too.

Oy. I suppose she can sing all right.

At least today I fit into one pair of "these are a little too tight" pants. At least something's going right. Not yet the rest of them (I may have been a little overzealous in my "I will fit into these!" shopping).

I haven't been to the gym all week. I've been struggling to just write down SOMETHING in an effort to get to the next thing - it's mostly crap, but at least it's written down. I need to jump forward a few months in the narrative and I'm really bad at just saying "nothing else much happened until X." I need to actually sit down and break my book(s) into chapters, I think, rather than leaving it as is, in POV segments. I haven't sent out my next query package because I haven't had the money to get postage - I hope to get back in gear next week, once I have some cash again. Otherwise, I have rather thorough "block" (whatever you want to call it), so I spent a good part of Sunday watching Planet of the Spiders (so now I've seen the Regeneration of 3 to 4, 4 to 5, 5 to 6, and 9 to 10), and very little else. The house is a mess and I haven't vacuumed in weeks. Lazy, lazy, lazy bones.

Now watching Jericho. Very tired.

There is a cat on my lap and somewhere, somehow, I have gotten a massive bruise on my arm, right where he normally likes to lay his front paws. It hurts, so I turned him around. I have no idea where I got this bruise - I noticed it this afternoon while washing my hands; I hadn't noticed it before (it's not badly discolored; you have to see it in bright light), but now I see it and, worse, FEEL it.

I got this Scattergories meme from nutmeg3:

LIVEJOURNAL SCATTEGORIES
Use the 1st letter of your name to answer each of the following...They MUST be real places, names, things...NOTHING made up! If you can't think of anything, skip it. Try to use different answers if the person in front of you had the same 1st initial. You CAN'T use your name for the boy/girl name question.

Your Name: wildrider
Famous Music artist/group: Willie Nelson
3 letter word: Who (which, I suppose, could work for Question #1, too.)
Color: White
Gifts/present: Watch
Vehicle: Wagoneer
TV Show: Wagon Train
Country: Wales
Boy Name: William
Girl Name: Wynonna
Alcoholic drink: Whiskey sour
Occupation: Waiter
Flower: Water lily
Celebrity: Whoopi Goldberg
Food: Waffles
Something found in a kitchen: Worcestershire sauce
Reason for Being Late: Wreck
Something You Shout: Whoa!

I just got the new Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers CD to review, and have that due with the new Ricky Skaggs/Bruce Hornsby disc. I guess I'd better get to work... Ho.

We have a new mattress! We paid cash, which is a wonderous new thing for us - especially for these big ticket items. So we have some lovely new furniture and still no debt. I like that feeling. I hope sincerely I can keep it up (although we do hope for a new mortgage here sooner than later, to do home improvements and replace the living room furniture - God, we'll be real grownups!).

( Somehow, I knew this would be the result )

Another boring day at work. I have to write a review for Chip Taylor's new disc - it's good, but I can't think of anything to say. I wonder if anyone would even notice if I re-used an old review... (okay, maybe not).

Last night we had Filet Mignon at Black Angus and it was most delicious. Now we're having our leftover chocolate cake (Big Thunder Mountain Cake, that is - the one problem with taking it home is it doesn't come with ice cream and hot fudge).

Having listened to John Mellencamp's newest album (released January 23, so it's out already), I have determined that I want to mate with this music and have its babies. For the first time in many years, I feel good about being an American again. Thank you, Mr. Mellencamp! It's as timely as Young's Living With War from last year, but a lot more timeless - and he pinpoints a number of things spot-on, such as with the song Jim Crow, where he attempts to remind everyone that changing the WORD doesn't change the attitude behind it (sung with Joan Baez, too).

Of course, instead of writing the review, I'm playing around with LJ. Figures.

I worked out this morning. My subconscious is trying to talk me out of doing so again tomorrow. Not sure way. Must beat down subconscious.

My W-2s have not arrived yet. Ergh. I can't make an appointment with either tax man until I have those in hand (the company I went to last year and the man who actually handled my account went their separate ways this last year - I'm now trapped between which to stick with. On the one hand, UFS is still close by; on the other hand, Frank knew my financial situation and I wouldn't have to explain again to a new person... but he moved his office to outer Mongolia (otherwise known as north Scottsdale... although now that I look at the map again, he's really not that far from where tiirz and edge_dancer moved to)).

I made The Glorious Pound Cake for work tomorrow - the recipe makes two full Bundt cakes, though, so there's one for home.

And now...


Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.

Oh, and very important:
Tomorrow is GROUNDHOG DAY!!!

Because I'm a follower:

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Countess-Palatine Kathleen the Erudite of Herring-le-hole Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

I went out last night to see Dave Insley's final show of the year - and his first in town in several months - and although it was a weeknight show, it was wonderful as usual. The Vaquetones, out of Southern California, opened; I SO go for their wonderfully hot lead guitar player, Gene Cornwell (although it could be his gorgeous Gretsch guitar!). They're a great Southwestern-fried Americana group (the "Baja-Western" sound), a lot of awesome Hispanic-country sounds, and, as noted, terrific guitar pickin'. Their bass player is, I kid you not, Harold Hill. I was pretty certain I'd bought their CD the last time they played here, but I can't find it now, drat it.

Of course, as a result, I was wiped out all day.

I'm tired now, but I don't want to go to bed TOO early - but I'll definitely hit the hay soon. Since I wasn't home last night, everyone on my Flist posted about forty posts each. Took an hour to get caught up, and I did sort of skim a few entries - my apologies! I'll see if I can get into more detail later.

It's been unofficial treats week at the office - everyone's been bringing SOMETHING every day, and we actually made a half-hearted attempt to make a real potluck for tomorrow. I'm too tired for much, but there is a batch of truffles setting up in the fridge. Hopefully I can get up and roll them in the morning. If not... maybe next week.

Ah! Found it! What a shocker, I'd actually filed it in the "V" section!

I'm ripping many Christmas CDs this evening, finally getting them into my library so I can properly fill the iPod with holiday music.

Holiday shopping is mostly completed. There are a few minor things left to get, but on the whole, pretty much done. Then there's the baking and packing of the goody boxes for out-of-state friends, and viola! I have, though, bought more for individuals - I think I've lost track of how much I've gotten for rahirah and sillymagpie, just 'cause.

I once again, however, spent myself into a hole (one of those ones where everything is paid off, but I only have about $5 to last until next Friday, and hope nothing comes up). I have a problem buying things for myself while shopping for others, but I DID get a pair of boots I've wanted for ages for about $100 less than they retail for at the Last Chance store.

Last night we went to my Company holiday party, which was semi-formal and actually quite fun. The food was amazingly good, I danced a little, and I looked quite spiffy in my crushed velvet teal sheath dress. They took a formal portrait, so I'll post it when I get it. took a picture of me before we left, though.

Then I dreamed I was the Doctor (ten) and was with Rose in this large facility that was near a coast, and I knew that there was going to be a major disaster coming up shortly, but this was one structure that was safe. I remember clearly the sight of the landscape around the place being destroyed (a sort of pseudo-nuclear blast), and then the windows cracked and the sea started coming in. I said to myself, "Curious. That didn't happen last time," because of course I'd been there before and knew what was supposed to occur, and I started shouting orders to get people out quickly, figuring I'd just try and get to the top of the area by floating, but then I remembered that Rose couldn't swim and I sort of panicked as I tried to get her out ahead of the crowd. Oh, and I think there was sex. I do wish I could remember more of this dream...

It's that time of year again, and I just turned in my Top Ten (20) picks for the year - although there was really only space for 12, so I got cut slightly, so I'll post ( the entire article here )

Tags: music, shopping

But I'll put them ( behind a cut )

I love a Monday that's practically a Wednesday. The house is filled with the lovely, spicy smell of Barb cooking yams & apples. I slept pretty well last night, but decided against going to the gym this morning because my arm is hurting again, so I rested it. Still hurts, though. I don't know whether to go back to the doctor or not; I certainly can't afford to get an MRI (I'm aware insurance would pay for MOST of it). Maybe I'll pony up for a massage this week and see if that helps.

It's that time of year again, when I must select my Top Ten new CDs of the year - and another tough, tough year it was. I'm still dithering between Rosanne Cash or Kris Kristofferson as #1. On the one hand, Rosanne's Black Cadillac had to be one of the most beautiful albums I've heard in years, and surely one of her best - a masterpiece. On the other, Kristofferson's is absolutely some of his finest poetry in, well, ever. Cash is steeped in personal sorrow; Kristofferson is steeped in personal joy. They're just both so danged good I can't decide whether the sad should be on top, or the happy.

The group who SHOULD be winning "Best Of" awards (country AND rock, really): Cross Canadian Ragweed. Seriously. Go. Listen. Admire. Buy their CDs. Radio isn't playing them, and they should be the Lynard Skynard of their generation.

My brain started composing a Doctor 6 story. I don't know where these things come from. Generally speaking, I don't write much fan fic; I have too many of my own characters cluttering my brain to mess with other people's characters. I don't think anything will come of it, but it happened...

( Behind the cut lies the meme, which I have gakked from others )

This evening I am a little tired, a little busy (I have SO much to do, I'm not sure how I managed to get to this point!), a little procrastinating (why am I playing online when I should be writing reviews?), a little creative (I made cashew/almond brittle), and generally cheerful. It was a VERY busy day at work - I swear I got there and suddenly, WHAM, it was time to go home. I suppose that makes for good days at work, eh?

I'm trying to figure out how to write a short story. I have an idea but I have no clue if it's got, you know, a plot or anything. Right now it's a collected series of scenes with characters.

I have a glass of pretty fine Pinot Noir, am listening to the news, and am writing a little bit.

My arm still hurts - I'm avoiding any kind of lifting at all, but just normal activities will make it hurt, like picking up a 12-pack (note to try to lift those with left arm) or putting down a piece of paper (it's the twisting) or writing with a pen (stop that) or using the mouse (damn it) and so on and so forth. I went and got some Ben Gay patches which are nice and soothing and one of those little hand-held vibrating massage-y things. I suppose I have to go back to the doctor at some point.

I am still cranky at my webmistress at About, but when she sent a long lecture about things and what I need to do to make HER (paying) job easier, and how I need to stop "writing reviews" for my Call It Americana article (she told me when she asked me to do the bi-weekly article that I could choose my own topics, mind you), I just responded "Okay" and determined I wouldn't pick up anything new beyond what I already have in my queue and go from there; if media outlets send me un-requested discs I like, I'll review them at Epinions, where I have an account I don't use often enough. Bitch, gripe, moan, complain. I need to branch out more from About, anyway. However, next week I have due the Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash, Sunny Sweeney (who is REALLY good - and I am TOUGH on girl singers), and, if it arrives, a new Roy Orbison DVD; I also have a couple of kid's discs from "Farmer Jason," who is really the hardcore Americana lead singer of Jason & The Scorchers - they're both cute and really good. Then Bruce Robison & Kelly Willis's Christmas CD, Waylon Jennings' DVD, and a few others I haven't received yet.

Perhaps my next article will discuss FREEDOM of choice... it fits into the Americana theme... corporate radio making demands on artists... yeah... (The main reason I don't just tell her to kiss off is because I enjoy doing the reviews, and I REALLY like being able to hear some stuff I wouldn't get a chance to otherwise, since Phoenix is a backward crap town when it comes to hearing Americana music anywhere... bear in mind this "Guide to country music on the About.com network" once asked me "did Merle Haggard sing some song about swinging doors?" {if you know anything at all about country music, I'm sure that hurt you as much as it did me} - I figure I NEED to be there. Someone with some actual knowledge about the genre's history ought to be working there...)

I ate badly today; mostly potato chips and cookies. Did make a nice burger and snap peas for dinner, though. I have lost two pounds this month, though (as of last Thursday).

I am up to almost 1500 points in the "My Coke Rewards." I'm now aiming for only 2560 points (a lovely evening gown), because somehow, some way, they're already sold out of the 11,000-point laptops. I can't figure out how anyone could get to 11,000 points. It's taken me months to get to 1500 points. I obviously need to drink even more Diet Coke...

I want more weekend.

We went to see The Prestige yesterday - I truly enjoyed it. I spent about half the movie CERTAIN that David Bowie was playing Tesla, but the makeup was so good I wasn't sure - and I thought perhaps I would have HEARD if Bowie was in this film, but it turned out I was right. It was the eyes that did it. I looked at those eyes thought, "That HAS to be Bowie!" I think The Illusionist was a better film, although despite superficial similarities, they really aren't anything alike; but the acting was fine (especially impressed with Jackman's flexibility) and the makeup was AMAZING. I was amused that one of the few people actually using their own accent in the movie (at least of the leads) was Michael Caine, who almost never plays a character who uses his own "working-class" accent (not sure what part of England it actually belongs to, but it's not the BBC-standard he usually affects for most roles). The Australian was playing an American, the American was playing an Englishman (the same part of London the character of Rose and her family come from - I at least recognized THAT accent), etc. But a very enjoyable film. Lots of nice little twists (some predictable, but still good). I have to read the book now.

I did indeed watch Curse of the Fatal Death today. Bwah hah hah! It was particularly amusing in retrospect that the parody had a "Tenth Doctor" who was, in his own words, "young... sexy... lick-the-mirror handsome!" Jonathan Price plays a world-class, scenery-chewing Master. I wish I knew how to get screencaps off .avi files, 'cause some scenes were just begging to be made into icons.

I'm about three days behind on my flist, and while I saw there were some interesting posts from people, it's hard to read on the screen because I've been fighting a low-grade headache for the last three days which I am not sure whether it is a) sinuses, caused by weather-change air pressure; or b) caused by the bump on my head I got last week when I slammed my forehead into the hatchback (one of the most evil inventions of mankind). I don't think it's the latter, but it's on my list just because it still hurts, although the bruising has turned that healing brown color, and when I rub my forehead because of the headache, well, ouch.

I'm also behind because I had two reviews and an article due this week - Chris Jones, awesome; The Duhks, very good; article about the amazing Roger Wallace. I wrote the reviews on Thursday, the article this morning. I've had the headache since sometime Thursday, I think. I worked overtime every day this week, which I will enjoy when the paycheck comes, but I think that, too may have added to the headache - not enough sleep and Word Processing... I honestly don't know how I managed to work in Word Processing for eight hours a day for nearly five years. I could barely stand two hours a day of it. Returning to my bustling mailroom/imaging job was a blessing after listening to the bloody dictaphone for two hours.

Of course, listening to the field inspectors talk about the problems caused by the summer storms in this area makes me look around the house and see all the problems WE have - if we had an actual disaster and had to have an inspection, we'd be in trouble with underwriting. The damage that Sam has caused alone would warrant an underwriting review (yes, I'm insured with the Company I work for, so it gives me a unique perspective into what would get me canceled; no, there are no perks - employees pay the same as everyone else and are subject to the same scrutiny). Pigeons have pecked all the paint off our vent caps (this I can see from the back yard - I can't imagine how bad it must look if one is actually on the roof), the house interior has NEVER been painted in all the time we've lived here, there's a big hole in the drywall in the back bathroom where the plumbers cut through to replace the fixtures in the front bathroom, the back bathroom shower is totally clogged with cat litter and doesn't turn on anymore, and the CONTENTS (read: clutter) we have... well, I can only say I'm glad our roof is sound, pigeons notwithstanding, and we're on a high area that never floods. Of course, who knows what might happen to our million-year-old galvanized pipes? Should one of them burst...

I'm inviting trouble. Can't help it, reading those inspection reports just makes me start worrying. Of course, with luck maybe it won't be more than another year before we can actually start getting some serious work done around this house. *knock wood*

I should clean my desk here. I'm practically buried in piles of CDs and press releases, many of which I'm done with and should throw away (the media crap, not the CDs - those ones I don't keep I usually drop in the boxes for Goodwill if I don't give 'em away to people I think would like 'em). I have a pile of pictures I have to mail to mom, tapes I need to digitize, and I don't know WHY some of this other stuff is here (I'm a big one for taking something out of somewhere, using it, and leaving it by my side to get buried instead of putting it back where it came from). We had to get a new cable modem this week and since it was buried behind a bunch of crap on my CPU, and Barb had to get behind everything to move cables around, I was once again shown just how much crap I have on this desk. (And of course, it's all necessary, like these toys, for example... where did the Doctor get off to?) I keep telling myself to bite down hard and really throw away crap I haven't touched/played with/looked at for the last four years, but once I see it again, it's hard to do that. One of those things is all the vinyl records, which take up oodles of space, but I know there's no real market for them as collector's items - just plain vinyl isn't nearly as valuable as people thought it was going to be - and I cannot, absolutely cannot simply throw them away.

It's another windy/rainy day. Been nice, actually getting rain this year. Almost like a real monsoon season, even if it's running later than usual.

Been maintaining weight-wise. Good enough for now. At least I'm not gaining. I haven't been able to get to the gym in over a week due to overtime. Hopefully can get my motivation back next week.

( Vegas Vacation )

( And then Saturday night honky-tonking )

And now a lazy Sunday afternoon meme, gakked from a few places...

So, the instructions:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that cool or intellectual book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag three people

( Behind the cut )

And now it's back to the mundane everyday (and sometimes good stuff); a trip to Costco for pet food (and some other stuff, natch), laundry, garbage, cat box, and work tomorrow.

Ah! Corn milk is the white, milky stuff and the kernelly bits you get when you scrape the ears. Seasonal dish, it appears.

Of what sort of cake sillymagpie wants for her birthday. Of course, we're taking her out to dinner, where no doubt we will be ordering the deep dish cherry or apple pie, so maybe there will be no cake. However, it doesn't seem quite birthday-ish without a cake of some kind. Birthday pie is lovely, but it's just not the same.

Today was lovely. I slept in, although the cats really didn't seem to want me to sleep at all. We had to allow Sam access to the house again due to yet another thunderstorm - and the heaviest rain we've seen in this part of the valley in some while. Wow, three days in a row. That hasn't happened here since... the eighties? (Okay, it hasn't been that long, it just feels like it.)

I finished all three of the reviews I knew I had to do, and discovered there's one other I should also do, since the release date is August 1 (since I'm going to be gone all next week I'm basically doing two weeks' worth of reviews this week). Of course, if I had remembered the Johnny Cash DVD back when it was actually released, I would have only had Dave Insley and Reckless Kelly to do for next week - and, oh yeah, Kasey Jones, too. Why must all Americana artists release their albums at the same time? Fortunately, Wayne Hancock isn't up until October. I also should have done an article this week, but man! So that'll wait until I get back, since the topic I had been thinking of was reviewing Dave's CD release party at the Yucca Tap Room on August 5. (Which is the day I get home - I think I'll get in from the airport and take a nap before heading over to the Tap Room.) At least it told me I could get three reviews done in one day, provided I had the day off (because writing the reviews themselves doesn't take that much time themselves, it's all the puttering around I do while writing reviews... listening to the song one more time, finding bio information on the web, blah blah blah).

Buy Dave Insley's new CD, Here With You Tonight, on sale August 8! [/subliminal message]

I'm downloading a bunch of Doctor Three episodes. We need to figure out how to use the DVD burner on rahirah's machine. I haven't a clue of how to convert .avi files for burning. Of course, I have realized lately my computer is in DESPERATE need of a RAM upgrade, since I run out of virtual memory whenever I use Photoshop anymore. Maybe with my own birthday coming up I can ask for RAM and my own DVD burner... (of course, I've already asked for a new crock pot - and I've specified the expensive ones, I'm so picky - and TIVO, so...).

Well, rahirah headed off yesterday morning. I dropped her at the airport and I hope she's reached her destination, since I haven't heard. I guess they're all having fun at WriterCon... at least, those who aren't having fun at ComicCon!!!

So anyway, I planned on posting last night, but as often happens, my friend Shelley in California called and we talked and shopped together (online, of course) for almost two hours, sharing cool shoe sites and being very girly. "Oh, those are SO cute!" "Wah! These don't fit!" (She's going to return those ones, obviously.) Then I had to watch Fallen Angel, the documentary about Gram Parsons - I find it very interesting that a documentary about the quintessential American roots singer/songwriter was apparently made by a Scandinavian filming company for the BBC. Why doesn't America pay any attention to its important figures? Americana is always more popular in Europe. Anyway, it's a fascinating work, so I got my review of the collection done and I have to get that off in the email, and then watch the Johnny Cash DVD this week. Have to share that one with sillymagpie.

Things that have happened to me this week: I was driving to work the other morning. The street was pretty crowded, and next to me was a shiny new Dodge pickup, maybe a little ahead of me - the bed was in the same general area as my hood. That's when I noticed he was moving over. Toward me. I couldn't see if he had a signal on, since he wasn't far enough ahead of me for it to show. So he's trying to occupy the same space as me, so I jerk to the left and honk my horn. He proceeds with cutting me off, then reached out his window to flip me off.

*WTF*??? I was flabbergasted, since I was pretty sure I was in the right - and as I paced him pretty much all the way across town (he went the same route as me, the 202 to the 143, turned left on Broadway into Tempe), I thought to myself, "What if I'd had a GUN, you stupid fuck?!?"

Speaking of the sniper, a man was shot this morning at 19th Avenue and Northern. It looks like the apartments where Daystar people used to live and we hung out a lot; of course, a lot of those complexes look alike, but still. Of course, said sniper hit someone here two blocks from my house. I worry a lot more about a random sniper than I do the serial rapist. It's SUCH fun when Phoenix makes national news. It's never good news, when that happens.

But in good news, going back to Americana, just recently Dale Watson has announced that since his kids are settling just fine in Baltimore, he's moving back to Austin and returning to his old regular gigs. Yay! It's not like I can get to Austin any time soon, but it's sure nice to know he's there.

Thinking about it, I haven't gotten an Americana Newsletter update in a while; I wonder what's happened to Bill Groll. I wonder if I can find his site (he changed the name "Americana" to "real country" or similar a while back, because the genre name "Americana" was of course being taken over by the man... he was a pretty stalwart independent dude. But it was the best place to check who was playing in Austin).

Few things made the cats happier than flatscreen monitors they can walk behind...

No other news. I guess that's good news.

ETA: Why is it that once you hit "spell check" on this thing, you can no longer choose a user pic? Nothing ELSE goes away after a spell check... and you can change the user pic in "edit," so that makes NO SENSE...

Happy Birthday, edgedancer! (A day late)

I meant to post yesterday, but somehow I got busy doing a billion things. I don't think I've recovered from my lost sleep of Tuesday night just yet. I was going to be good and go to the gym this morning, but that didn't happen, either.

The show was pretty danged awesome - I dragged along sillymagpie and rahirah, and they enjoyed what they stayed for. I kept reasonable notes and the review will appear next week in my new weekly article, Americana Archives. This week I have to review Switchback's new disc, Falling River Waters, which is folksy protest music of the good old brand. LORD, I'm glad to be seeing/hearing this kind of work at last. It's way past time. Of course, I guess it took ten years and three presidents for the horrors of Viet Nam to really sink in at home (yikes). Of course, that wasn't started by just one guy with a cowboy complex... (I truly hate it when people call Bush a cowboy. He ain't, and he gives a bad name to real ones.)

Jesse Dayton, Texan, is a flaming liberal who announced in his show that "dissent against one's government is the highest form of patriotism." He said Texans lump all them weird radicals into Austin to keep them segregated *g*, although his band comes from everywhere, and he himself is from Houston (he just lives in Austin now, I believe). Anyway, his plane came in so late (I don't think he got there until after 11), he didn't do a very long set. A shame, too, 'cause it's been a while since he was in Phoenix and he can REALLY do a kick-ass show when he's a mind to.

Still, Moot Davis & the Cool Deal - awesome enough, but add Pete Anderson and it's heavenly sublime. I could watch Pete play guitar forever. It's an experience which is either sexual or spiritual (or both), and Moot played a full 21-song set (about an hour or more). When he introduced Pete with the rest of the band toward the end, Pete played a signature lick from "Fast As You" - the first time I've heard him play anything from any of Dwight's songs since the whole thing happened, but I thought, you know, that's HIS lick. He might as well use it when he wants to. Couple of great guys, too. They both remembered me from previous shows and Pete thanked me for spreadin' the good word. I like being on Little Dog's list (Little Dog is Pete's record label).

Things like this would probably do a whole lot better in Phoenix if we just had an Americana radio station. As it is, it was pretty well packed (although not many folks left for Jesse - he complemented the hardcore troubadours who stuck with him!); the publicity company, Hillgrass Bluebilly Entertainment, did a bang-up job. In talking with Pete, I found out that the Rhythm Room isn't well-beloved by a lot of Americana acts because they don't publicize the acts very well (Dave Insley had pretty much told me he didn't like playing the Rhythm Room, either; I'm sure that's why), and was looking for another place to play in Phoenix. This city sucks for small, live venues. I offered up the dive down in Tempe (the Yucca Tap Room), which is too small for Moot Davis, and the Handlebar J in Scottsdale, which might serve all right, since they did well by Hank Jr.

But anyway, the rest of the groups, also awesome. I have to gather my thoughts and get it all down this weekend, probably.

I should be writing a review of Pure Prairie League's new CD, not updating LJ, but I've been reading articles, like ( this one. )

And earlier this week, I was talking to the gang at work about gas prices, and ran across this tidbit in a Times article: . . .consider this bit of history: In 1990, two senators - Slade Gorton, a conservative Republican, and Richard Bryan, a liberal Democrat - proposed raising fuel economy standards to 40 miles a gallon over 10 years. They actually got 57 votes for their proposal, which lost to a filibuster.

Had it passed, we would probably be consuming half the gasoline we use now and be in better shape to deal with today's price squeeze. There's still time to prepare for the next one.

But I've still been enjoying Cash's autobiography, which is not told in chronological order nor with any real structure other than meandering from one thought to the next, and yet it's deeply engrossing and highly enjoyable. He comes across as a straightforward, honest, and humorous man (much as he does in his music). I loved this quote from him: "The very idea of unconventional or even original ideas ending up on 'country' radio in the late 1990's is absurd." The copyright date on this book is 1997 - around the time I was finally waking up and starting to notice I wasn't enjoying "country" music like I used to (mostly because by that point, it wasn't being playing on the radio - it would take me two more years to find independent, alt-country and Americana). There's some awesome stories in this book.

I still haven't had the chance to read the expensive magazines I bought last week. Every time I try something interrupts me.

Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo, which I've been assured by people I've known from Mexico is much more widely celebrated in the States than it is there, since, although many Americans think it's Mexican Independence Day, it's not - that's September 16. Cinco de Mayo was the Battle of the town of Puebla, an important battle, but it would be rather like us having a big celebration on September 11, the anniversary of the Battle of Plattsburg Bay (one of the deciding battles of the War of 1812). Still, it's a great day for us gringos to go eat yummy Mexican food. We went to the old standby Manuel's, up here on the corner, and I probably had more calories in one meal than I ate all week, but since I was good this week, I allowed myself to devour many fresh-from-the-fryer chips with salsa, then had pollo especial - which is like a very fancy chicken chimi. Yum!

Today I'm going to make up some lime curd. We bought a nice long baguette yesterday and we'll probably make light bruscettas - pesto and feta cheese, probably - and I want some slices for the curd. If the pork roast has thawed enough I might try the Thai curried pork and mango recipe sillymagpie sent me. Although I don't have curry paste. May have to make a stop.

Now I really need to write that review.