To Do Redux

• Exercise
• Write poetry
• Cook more stews

Scorecard

Since moving to the east coast we've endured

• 1 earthquake
• 2 hurricanes
• 1 terrorist attack
• 1 serial killing sniper
• 2 presidential elections

Ironically, the biggest thing I miss about the Chicagoland area is pizza, and the food in general. Oh, yeah, and friends and family. They're important, too. (Wink.)

Fortune

The hurricane is coming!  I don't know how much time I have left before the power goes out.  But in case I don't make it through the storm I wanted to tell you where I've hidden the secret treasure. I put it underneath the

For a good time call Irene

You know what, this whole internet thing is really starting to mess with me.  Due to flooding in Puerto Rico someone captured on video a freaking SHARK swimming down the STREET.  

Shark. Street.

Goodbye. I'll be holed up in my second floor condo for the next few days.  Of course I'll be safe from sharks, but EARTHQUAKES, not so much.  Come on! If a fucking snake slithers out of my toilet I'm gonna lose it, man. Or if a single frog falls from the sky, it's over man. Game over. 

I'm not done reliving the experience of an earthquake yet.  And now there's a HURRICANE on its way.  Where the hell do I live?!  I'm still trying to figure out how to pick up my son from daycare in a timely manner every night... and now I have to worry about sharks in the street?  

Shaky Weather

On Sunday, Leia acted peculiar. Panting and trembling like she does during a thunderstorm. Except on this day the skies were blue and the Sun was shining like it does on any typical beautiful day. I figured she heard some heavy truck rumble past the house or had a nightmare and dismissed it.

Then on Monday, she did it again. Panting, breathing hard, tail between her legs, fearful. I got worried. She's eight years old and I got worried that she was having heart problems or worse. We contemplated making an appointment with the vet.

Yesterday, at about 10:30 AM she was lying on the floor shaking.  This time I knew something was definitely amiss with my dog. I readied my mind for the harsh realities of life and began to assume she was having some serious health issues.

Then at about ten minutes to 2:00 PM, the house started shaking. The walls made a series of booming, banging noises like one hundred children were running in the halls above.  Then the floor shimmied like the rug was literally being pulled out from under my feet.  I noticed the water in our aquariums sploshing out from side to side. A picture fell from our wall and crashed to the floor. The best description I can come up with is bouncing.  Our building was bouncing.

Thirty seconds later it stopped.  Immediately I got a text from Lynette: "Earthquake!"

After my adrenaline settled and I got my bearings I looked down at Leia and realized she knew it was coming.  I said to her, "You knew."  And she wagged her tail.

Morale of the story: Listen to your dog, man. She knows a hell of a lot more than you do.

James and His Pop

King of Pain

Photo by Chris Buck, Life Magazine

Tommy Boy was on TV over the weekend. I can't watch it without getting angry at how many Farley/Spade movies we've been robbed of.  Sometimes death really sucks, man.

Sometimes it finds you

While adding more items to the remote storage unit to make more room for James a copy of The Beat Reader fell out of my trunk and opened to this page. (I see what you did there, Universe.)

Food Fight!

In the war (war?) between Anthony Bourdain and Paula Deen (There's a war between Anthony Bourdain and Paula Deen?) I wholeheartedly side with Tony.

My hatred (hatred?) of Paula goes back a ways. One only has to be in my home when her show comes on. I can't turn the channel fast enough. Yes, her food is dangerously unhealthy, but that's not my problem. It's her "personality." Acting like a drunk Southerner ain't funny and it ain't cool. (You know she lives in upstate New York, right?)

Anyway, Bourdain is a bit of a douche, but he at least acknowledges the ridiculousness of the recent crop of food celebrities that the Wal-mart crowd has exalted. Are there any shows left on Food Network that's actually only really about the food?  Alton Brown's contribution maybe. But his show has ended. (Not enough butter, I guess.)  Sure Rachel Ray is nice and cute and all, but do we really have to call sandwiches "sammies"?  Did that word need to be shortened?  Really?  If I hear one person in real life call it a "sammie" they're going to get one heck of a stink eye from me.

I like food and cooking shows. I have an interest in learning how to cook better food the right way. Dear Food Network: I do not own a deep fryer. And I can give two shits about motherlovin' "cupcake wars."  Just cook some freakin' food and end these lame "cake challenges" and competitions where a couple of poor fools have to impress some snooty judges that they were able to make a dessert out of eggplant and peanut shells.

Yes, I am an English Major!

Peaceful Tunneling

I got to the train early this morning. Predawn.  It was beautiful. I got to see the sunrise over National Airport. And the people on the train at 6:00 AM are different... Lovely maybe. Content. Happy. Grateful to be alive and carried to their job in a big metal tube while no one tries to smoosh them up against the window like those 7:00 AM heathens like to do.

Found this in my lunch

Hipster Ipsum

Squid salvia master cleanse brooklyn, raw denim aesthetic blog iphone fixie. Farm-to-table scenester VHS next level, biodiesel vice twee stumptown hoodie helvetica cosby sweater trust fund. Cosby sweater artisan sartorial etsy single-origin coffee art party, pitchfork cred stumptown skateboard readymade mlkshk ethical terry richardson. Vegan VHS skateboard raw denim cred. American apparel tofu iphone homo. Brooklyn 3 wolf moon keytar skateboard leggings. Sustainable scenester gluten-free, thundercats gentrify put a bird on it mlkshk 8-bit stumptown viral wayfarers cosby sweater wolf mcsweeney's food truck.

Mcsweeney's hoodie raw denim wes anderson, biodiesel readymade scenester you probably haven't heard of them lomo carles skateboard mustache leggings ethical. Retro carles wolf, dreamcatcher marfa butcher skateboard. Brooklyn seitan american apparel twee leggings. Chambray you probably haven't heard of them PBR, biodiesel tumblr gentrify next level sartorial whatever. Thundercats keytar put a bird on it ethical sartorial, jean shorts chambray high life synth stumptown food truck 3 wolf moon quinoa. Food truck readymade wayfarers, art party banh mi blog cardigan letterpress scenester shoreditch squid four loko quinoa brunch helvetica. You probably haven't heard of them vinyl irony brooklyn hoodie, +1 carles cred bicycle rights wes anderson viral high life shoreditch mustache.

Create your own HERE

SW on BR

There's only one way you can prove your love to me...

(Cine)

The Dreamers directed by Bernardo Burtolucci with Eva Green and Michael Pitt. Trailer:



This came on IFC very late last night and I instantly fell into it.  I remember the controversial NC-17 rating is received in 2003, but never realized how great this film is.

Might want to bookmark this one

Having a bad day?  Feeling sad?  Down in the dumps?

Then CLICK HERE

You're welcome.

Music Appreciation: Bon Iver

What my coffee barista drew on my coffee this morning...

LINK

38 Special

"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Today is my 38th birthday.  Though I will not be giving any speeches or attending any parties in my honor.  Just once I'd like someone dressed in a wizard outfit to light off fireworks on my birthday! 

Kristin Teaches

My sister in law Kristin teaching me some stuff.

The Ladies

The gal on the left is mine. Won her in game of poker in Cody, Wyoming, 1996. If you look close you can still see the blood stains from that night and harrowing escape I made with this beauty under my arm. No, wait. I bought it from my pal Marx for $25.

Five A M looks like

That stingy sensation in your eyes when you've only gotten three and a half hours sleep because you had to wake up to drive your mother and sister to the airport so they can finally go home after having their flight cancelled yesterday due to mechanical problems.

Upside: I dug out an old guitar from storage last night and Kristin restrung it and we discovered it sounds great. (Marx, if you're reading this I bought this guitar from you for $25 back in 1996 and you said you'd give me my money back if I ever 1. wrote a song, and 2. performed it in front of an audience.  Start saving your money, Marcus, because JC's coming for you (with a six string on his back).)

Upside #2: While driving to pick up last night's dinner, Lynette and I decided to make Kristin (aka: Auntie K) James' Godmother.  It was a no brainer after witnessing how those two connected this week. The announcement was made over lo mein and rice noodles.  Tears were shed.

None of this would have happened if Friday's plane hadn't malfunctioned. Just sayin.

Headless Fridays

Shirt's too big.  Hopefully, that'll be my biggest problem today.  And honestly, it's not really a problem. Because anyone who's ever worn a big shirt will tell you, it's pretty gosh darn comfortable.  Right now I'd settle for, "Wow, that guy looks comfortable," versus, "Wow, that fat guy's shirt is too small!"  It's my current shape so I've got to make it work somehow.  If it were one of the colder seasons I'd go with a closet full of hockey jerseys. 

Remember when I told you my boss quit about a month ago. Well, now my boss's boss quit yesterday.  I'm this close to standing on my cubicle desk and declaring myself emperor.  Gonna usurp this bitch up in here.

Music Appreciation: Richard Buckner

Richard Buckner holds a dear place in my heart for reasons I don't have time to explain. His new album "Our Blood" came out this week and as expected it's hauntingly beautiful.  Have I ever told you about the time I saw him play at Iota (Arlington, VA) and was transported to a different plane of existence? Or when I got to see him open for one of my favorite bands (Son Volt) in St. Louis?  Here's a video of him covering an eternal Joy Division song: 

Carnal Apple, Woman Filled, Burning Moon

By Pablo Neruda Carnal apple Woman filled, burning moon, dark smell of seaweed, crush of mud and light, what secret knowledge is clasped between your pillars? What primal night does Man touch with his senses? Ay, Love is a journey through waters and stars, through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain: Love is a war of lightning, and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness. Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity, your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages, and a genital fire, transformed by delight, slips through the narrow channels of blood to precipitate a nocturnal carnation, to be, and be nothing but light in the dark.

Topography

By Sharon Olds

After we flew across the country we
got in bed, laid our bodies
delicately together, like maps laid
face to face, East to West, my
San Francisco against your New York, your
Fire Island against my Sonoma, my
New Orleans deep in your Texas, your Idaho
bright on my Great Lakes, my Kansas
burning against your Kansas your Kansas
burning against my Kansas, your Eastern
Standard Time pressing into my
Pacific Time, my Mountain Time
beating against your Central Time, your
sun rising swiftly from the right my
sun rising swiftly from the left your
moon rising slowly form the left my
moon rising slowly form the right until
all four bodies of the sky
burn above us, sealing us together,
all our cities twin cities,
all our states united, one
nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

Beer Bottle

By Charles Bukowski

A very miraculous thing just happened
My beer bottle flipped over backwards
And landed on its bottom on the floor
And I have set it upon the table to foam down
But the photos were not so lucky today
And there is a small slit on the leather of my left shoe
But it’s all very simple
We can not acquire too much
There are laws we no nothing of
All manners of nudges set us to burning or freezing

What sets the blackbird in the cats’ mouth is not for us to say
Or why some men are jailed like pet squirrels
While others nuzzle enormous breasts through endless nights
This is the task and the terror and we are not taught why

Still, yes still, it’s lucky the bottle landed straight side up
And although I have one of wine and one of whiskey
This foresooth somehow a good night
And perhaps tomorrow my nose will be longer
New shoes
Less rain
More poems