another potential blog reader!

My friend Meredith has a blog called "I Want a Pony"...the link's to
the right. Well, she didn't get a pony, but she did get a healthy
daughter at 5:30 today. A hearty cheer and toast to Sydney
Katherine...welcome to the game.

top ten albums...the penultimate entry

2. The Hold Steady - Boys and Girls in America

It's always nice to find out that there is still someone putting out music who, rather than looking for polish and maximum sales ability, would rather put out a great, steaming slab of rawk...and that's why I've fallen in love with The Hold Steady.

(for those not in the know, rawk (as opposed to rock) is distinguished by its utter need for the edge, for the necessity of straddling the line between control and collapse...if you are talking about music where the thrill for the listener is determining not if but when the band will implode, you are verging on rawk territory)

The Hold Steady's music is, quite simply, fun. Every riff makes me want to sell all my posessions save my Telecaster, Les Paul, and Marshall; move to Detroit; and start a band. Every lyric makes me want to flee all responsibility and fall into a life of debauchery, excess, and decline...if, for no other reason, so I can get stories that are half as good as these. Every time I play this disk, I want to follow the band around like some ersatz contemporary version of a deadhead, but since these guys are so obviously a bar band (nay, a magnificent bar band), I'm not sure my liver would hold up.

At first, I had a little difficulty getting past the vocal delivery on this disk. The singer's voice reminds me in timbre of Bruce Springsteen, and that's not really a good thing. But there is an undeniable energy, and part of me will always love albums where all the songs are about getting drunk or high. And this album is clearly not subtle; "Chips Ahoy!," for instance, is about the singer hooking up with a girl who can pick winning race horses...and their response to a win? "He came in six lengths ahead, we spent the whole next week getting high." Again, from "Stuck Between Stations," about a dream girl: "she was a really cool kisser and she wasn't all that strict of a Christian." Again, from "Chill-Out Tent," about two people who meet after OD'ing at a concert: "they started kissing when the nurses took off their IVs; it was kind of sexy but it was kind of creepy."

As I said, good, simple, obscene rawk. Me and the spousal unit were listening to this on the way to a wedding, and I made a crack about how this band was awesome, but they would be dangerous if they ever outgrew the "party/stoner" schtick. Then the song "You can make him like you" came on, and I started really listening to the lyrics...and I came across this one:

You don't have to go to the right kind of schools

let your boyfriend come to the right kind of schools

you can wear his old sweatshirt

you can cover yourself like a bruise

...and that's where it hit me...The Hold Steady had been playing me all along. They have all this rock...excuse me, rawk...ability AND they can do deep, subtle lyrics? I thought, in the words of Agent K, that I had "a pretty good bead on things," but this one lyric is making me do a re-think. Once again, I need to reevaluate everything I think about music, art, and life.

But isn't that what great art is supposed to do?

top ten albums...part cuatro

3. Drive-By Truckers - A Blessing and a Curse

Since Decoration Day, the Drive-By Truckers have been in my list of bands that could be the best rock band in America. Their last album, The Dirty South, featured crushing rockers by guitarist Mike Cooley and a selection of wide-ranging masterpieces from newer guitarist Jason Isabell. The contributions from Patterson Hood, the main singer, were, however, slightly uneven. For each epic rocker like "Lookout Mountain," there were weaker tracks which sounded forced, like "The Boys from Alabama." Overall, however, there were enough brilliant moments on the disk to still make it a top rock album. one had to wonder, however, if Patterson's talent was beginning to fade.

Then came A Blessing and a Curse...and if this album makes nothing else clear, it is obvious that Patterson Hood is hitting on all cylinders. "Aftermath USA" is just as raucous as ever, while "Goodbye" is as bittersweet as possible. Mike Cooley's songs have also hit a new level of depth, especially the shimmering "Space City." Isabell's songs don't stand out as much, but that might just be because everything else on here is so damn strong.

Overall, the album has the feel of The Replacements slammed together with The Faces. Less political than their previous work, but that might help them better get that mass audience that they so deserve. If you've never heard DBT, they've got a great catalog, and you should dive in immediately. Also, look for solo albums from both Isabell and Hood.

4. Raconteurs - Broken Soldier Boy

I've been a big White Stripes fan for a while, and I'm proud to say that I got into them before the bandwagon really started rolling (right after White Blood Cells, actually). When I found out that White Stripes singer Jack White was putting out a side project, I was filled with a little bit of trepidation. Could he collaborate, or would be be
a control freak? Could he find collaborators who could match up to him? Since he's pretty much the brains behind The White Stripes, what's the point? If the side project was in fact substantially different, would it tame White's rebellious, non-mainstream side (which, after all, is the point of his full-time band)?

Luckily, White found a brilliant collaborator in Brendan Benson, a polished indy pop-rock guru also out of Detroit, and the two of them work together very well. The result, when it works the best (such as in the Benson tune "Together," which has some brilliant, gorgeous Jack White background vocals; ditto with the bluesy "Level"), is a nuanced blend of raw power and experimental polish. This is rocky, loose blues rock with an experimental, non-cliched pop feel that doesn't really sound like anything else out there.

Now I have to really start a Brendan Benson obsession to balance out my White Stripes fandom.

Can I also say that The Raconteurs have the coolest band web site ever?

best line heard during Christmas visitation

from a relative: "For some reason, I've always had an affinity for all things Swedish...I guess that's why I like Abba."

top ten albums...part III

5. Beatles - Love

Yes, a new Beatles release. These tracks have been remixed, messed with. This is actually the soundtrack to the new Vegas Cirque du Soleil show. So far, everything I've mentioned should work against this, and I should look upon this album as an abomination.

The album is, however, fantastic. There is extensive work on this, but it's done by Beatles producer George Martin, approved by the Harrison & Lennon estates and by McCartney and Starr. All added tracks are from original Beatles sessions. And boy, does this sound good...picture Beatles songwriting brilliance with the sonic adventureness of Wilco and Pink Floyd. The arrangement of "Eleanor Rigby" will make you weep.

If you've ever wondered how this band would hold up if they came out now, listen to this. If you're one of those that never really "got" this band, then buy this, as it will most likely make you reevaluate music in the last decade.

6. Incubus - Light Grenades

I am admittedly late to the Incubus bandwagon. When I heard the band name, I thought they must be another noise/rap metal band. I ran across "Megalomania" last year on Fuse, and I liked it, but it took me a while to hunt down the album A Crow Left of the Murder. When I did, I found several really great tracks and several more that did little for me. It was clear the band had potential, but the album was uneven.

I bought Light Grenades when it came out, mostly because one of the big chains had it for only $9.99. The cd remained in my car player for at least a week. I listened to it straight through several times, litened to "Dig" over and over, listened to "Anna Molly" over and over, listened to "Oil and Water" and then "Diamonds and Coal" over and over. This album is very solid, and it has strong songwriting throughout. The mix of heavy and soulful is about perfect.

A friend of mine tells me that while this album is good, Morning View is much better. I can't wait until I can get into that one.

top ten albums...part 2

7. My Chemical Romance - The Black Parade

My Chemical Romance, for me, was a bit of a revelation when I discovered them last year. With their name, I was expecting generic Cookie-Monster rap metal. Instead, I got intelligent lyrics, well-constructed songs, tight musicianship. This is modern metal with songwriting ability and a wicked sense of humor...after all, how else could you explain song titles like "It's Not A Fashion Statement, It's A Deathwish"?

With The Black Parade, the band must've been listening to either Broadway musicals or to Queen's Night at the Opera while on mushrooms. There's definitely increased theatrics here, but while they do take some getting used to, they don't come off as cheesy. The songs are still solid (highlights are the brutal "Dead!," "Teenagers," and "Mama," which, strangely enough, includes guest vocals from one Liza Minelli...seriously!). The only really weak periods are when they try to get overly commercial, which they do in the semi-cheddar "I Don't Love You"...but these are in the minority. I really hope they don't keep going for the commercial, because it's not their strong point, and they are getting a fan base with their regular stuff...and they do rock.

8. Loose Fur - Born Again in the USA

While the self-titled Loose Fur debut was a noisefest (which unfortunately killed some great songs, such as the Wilco outtake "Not for the Seasons," which became a very strange "Laminated Cat"), this one is much more coherent, much more controlled. And the benefit of this is that the songs, as a result, really stand out. The sound is still experimental, but rather than employing the "let's hit something" strategy of its predecessor, Born Again in the USA employs a Zappa-esque creativity with arrangements...albeit from a 3 piece.

Half the songs are from Wilco singer Jeff Tweedy, and those are dandies. "Hey Chicken" rocks, while "The Ruling Class" (as played on Tweedy's last midwest solo tour) is a soothing, funny acoustic singalong opportunity waiting to happen...and then there's "Pretty Sparks," which has Tweedy turning in his most soulful singing performance yet. Jim O'Rourke's material can be a bit more introspective (see the moody, somber "Answers to your Questions"), but the man can rock and rollick, as in "An Ecumenical Matter," his lively take on the ten commandments.

I suck less than I thought!

I am online at my house, where, instead of the spiffy high-speed campus connection I have at work, I instead have dial-up. It is pretty good dial-up...dirt cheap, from a cool local non-profit, and pretty fast for a phone line...but from my work computer, this is still dreadfully slow. So, when I'm online, I tend to be here for ages.

I'm in front of the computer now to do my standard daily web stuff and to work on syllabi (I have my boss coming to observe me teach in week 3, so I need to have everything really buttoned up), and I have the MP3s going. A little while ago, I was listening to My Chemical Romance, and I thought I might've heard some new sonic layers I've missed in the past. Then I realized I might want to check my cell phone, because the sound could've been my crappy little ringtone.

Long story short? I got my first interview of the job hunt year. I am, of course, tremendously excited that someone knows I exist and still wants to talk to me. Of course, it's only a phone interview, so I don't want to get my hopes up at this point, but it's a positive sign...and I went so long between positives in my early job search years, so this is nice.

Anyway, back to work. I have two courses to design, a book to review, and an article to write, and I have to get these done by the end of the break...so sorry if I'm not more in-touch.

top ten albums...part one

Welcome to my top ten cds of the year. This is the first of five installments, and the rest should hit by New Year's. I am including links to the artists' web sites, and most of them have samples available...so give them a listen!

9. Aimee Mann - One More Drifter in the Snow

Y'know, I just knew this was going to be a joke or something. When I found out that this was an honestly real release, I figured it would be the most depressign thing in the face of the world. Whenever I hear of artists releasing Christmas albums, I generally make the crack that either they've decided to become purile teeny-boppers, or their career must be over and they're desperate.

This is neither. Aimee Mann is, of course, insanely talented. Mann harkens back to the 50s for feel and inevitably leaves her own quirks...but in a melancholy, not depressive way. I really like this album, and I would've rated it higher...but it is, after all, a Christmas record, and how often are you actually gonna play it in June?

10. Golden Smog - Another Fine Day

Golden Smog is that weird breed...a supergroup of musicians that 90% of the population have never heard of. Out of all their releases, this one is the closest to a pastiche of each member's personalities...and as such, is less a band release, and not tremendously cohesive.

There are some very great things going on here. Ex-Jayhawk Gary Louris' "Listen Joe" and "Think About Yourself" are both gorgeous. Wilco singer Jeff Tweedy only has one track, but "Long Time Ago" (co-sung with Louris) is a doozy, emotional without being sappy. Soul Asylum's Dan Murphy pens some great rockers ("Corvette" and "Hurricane") that will get your heart pumping...but they don't really fit in with Louris' work.

There are a few clunkers. "You Make It Easy" goes on entirely too long, and "Beautiful Mind" is just annoying. This is still, however, better than most other albums released this year...and what would you expect from anything with Gary Louris?

John McCain Wants To Regulate Blogs

from MetaFilter at http://www.metafilter.com/mefi/57002

Senator John McCain (R. - AZ) has introduced legislation that would hold blogs responsible for all activity in their comments sections and user profiles. Provisions of the proposed bill include: (1) commercial websites and personal blogs "would be required to report illegal images or videos posted by their users or pay fines of up to $300,000," (2) bloggers with comment sections may face "even stiffer penalties" than ISPs, and (3) any social-networking site must take "effective measures" to remove any Web page that's "associated" with a sex offender. "Because 'social-networking site' isn't defined, it could encompass far more than just MySpace.com, Friendster and similar sites." The list could include any site that allows comments, authot and personal profiles. Kevin Bankston of the Electronic Frontier Foundation notes that this proposal may be based more "on fear or political considerations rather than on the facts." "McCain’s legislation could deal a serious blow to the blogosphere. Lacking resources to police their sites, many individual blogs may have to shut down open discussion."*

My take: I think it's interesting that McCain is justifying limiting freedom of speech in the name of "saving the children." This man is becoming more and more conservative by the day.

a going away gift from me...

I'm gonna avoid this blog and most of my e-mail for a week or so, because my students' writing portfolios are coming in today...which means grading hell will soon commence. As a going-away gift, a memento from my days writing poetry, previously published in the long-defunct Conspire:

an apple: 6 reflections

Wel bet is roten appul out of hoord
Than that it rotie al the remenaunt'
---G. Chauser

1.
you say
"let us observe an apple"

I look closely at the apple
study its imperfect roundness
marvel at its almost luminescent yellow-green hue
contemplate its slowly advancing brown patches

I pronounce it a Golden Delicious

2.
you say
"maybe its very greeness is a slap in the face

I always think of red apples
our apple is green, not red
our apple is not happy just being
fresh and juicy
crisp to the bite
an instrument of good health
our green apple is a rebel

but what's wrong with red?
what is wrong with being typical, expected, traditional?
does the apple see something we have missed?
what does he know?
he must be rebelling
only for rebellion's sake"

3.
another might say
"maybe the brown patch is the key
maybe the apple has seen the error of empty rebellion
and is trying to become normal, red, typical
trying too late, perhaps
but still making the effort to change"

he might say
"maybe the apple knew
he was flawed from the start
full of rot, decay, disease
knew he was dying
but was having too much fun
being different
to change"

another might say this
I just say
"I only see a Golden Delicious"

4.
I now take our apple and slice it open
look at the two halves
study the bruised flesh hiding just beneath the skin
marvel at the sweet, dripping juices
contemplate the seeds imersed in the fruit's heart

you pronounce it butchered

5.
you say
"I think the decay inside the apple is your fault

maybe the apple is hurting
(the bruise, her wound)
because she will be manhandled, squeezed
as you check for freshness

maybe the apple is crying
(the juice, her tears)
because she can now only turn brown and rot
since you have dissected her

maybe the apple is despairing
(the seeds, her offspring)
because you will throw her children away
like debris

6.
again you say
"now let us observe the apple"

I look closely at the apple
study its severed proportions
marvel at the dried, sticky juices
contemplate the torn out stem

yet I can only pronounce it a Golden Delicious

required reading...

An article on my favorite bar ever, Howards Club H.

bloglines

I had a headache yesterday, so I needed to kill time while the medicine took effect. I did this by falling in love with Bloglines, an online service which will deliver feeds from any blog to one webpage. If you're curious, you can now view my blog reading list. If you spend any real time online, this service rocks.

it's more important to look good than to feel good

An in-law is getting married. I was asked (through relatives...not directly, mind you) to be a groomsman. Okay, sure. But instead of renting a tux like at most weddings, I was told to wear a dark suit.

Now, those of you who know me realize that I'm not really a suit kind of guy, so it's not like I have one laying around...well, actually I do, but it's a thift store find, and while the jacket fits well, the pants are designed for someone with a 52" waist. Whomever owned this suit before me must've been one ugly freak of nature...I do not want to know what his build was like.

Anyway, other than that, no suit. This meant that instead of renting a tux for $80 or so, I had to instead go buy a $400 suit. I have spent less money buying a car. Yes, I now have a piece of clothing which cost a little under a week's salary, and I might wear it five times in my life...more if relatives start dropping like flies, but I'm not a freshman, and no one's going to give me a relative-killing exam or essay.

And it's not like I can wear the damn thing for work. I'm a 6'5" guy, a big guy, and I tend to intimidate my students anyway. If I came to work wearing a suit, it would either scare them or make them think I must be getting sued. No, if I want any hope of connecting with my students, I ihave/i to dress down...me dressing down for teaching is a stategic move, a carefully thought-out pedagogical strategy (and it has nothing at all to do with my utter loathing of ties, honestly).

So I'm down to wearing the cursed suit for the occasional conference and (hopeful) eventual job interview. Since a suit is a big investment, however, I need to find more places to wear it...maybe on the occasional jaunt to a martini bar or while shopping for comics. Suggestions are, of course, welcome.

I took some friends with me on the suit purchasing run, because I wanted to make sure I didn't end up with a 70's suit with ruffles, and because I'm always horrifically indecisive. They were both excited at the prospect of critiquing my choices. They were also excited to be going to a Men's Wearhouse to see what types of men were currently on the market, and to find out how much a man currently runs.

What did I learn from the experience?

• When we got to the store, my two friends went to the pet store next door to look at kittens, and I had to call their cell phone to get them to come over and give their opinions. This is when I learned I am not cute enough to compete with kittens.
  
• Men's Wearhouse provides surprisingly nice, personalized service. I guess I was expecting a Best Buy-esque anti-customer service, but they were very professional.
  
• Apparently, not everyone can wear a three button suit jacket, and sadly enough, I am in that category. One friend speculated that it was becuase I was "too buff," but this is doubtful. It's a shame, because I had to move into a higher price range to get a good 2-button (which, admittedly, did fit better).
  
• There is a genderized hierarchy inside the male garment industry. The person who helped me with my selection was a male. When they had to get my alterations marked, they pulled out a female. I guess real men can know fashion but cannot know how to sew.
  
• Standing in the bay of multiple mirrors is weird. I never want to look at myself that clearly again. The only thing I could think of doing was the removable thumb magic trick...and that seemed inappropriate.
  
• Apparently, one of my shoulders (my right) is lower than the other. After the shopping extravaganza, we all went to a bar, and a friend speculated that it was because of too many years hauling around bookbags.
  
• Suits are much like cars in that there's a tremendous amount of unavoidable add-ons. Alterations cost extra. Cedar hanger? Extra. Garment bag? Extra. The one that really got me was the silicone treatment to keep the creases crisp...which is admittedly a good idea, but when the salesman told me about it, I was waiting for him to also try to sell me the undercarriage anti-rust treatment.
  
• My wife and my two friends all told me that, in my new suit, I looked good. It's nice having the lust and adulation of those around you.
  

Maybe I'll have to adopt a whole "upper class" image to go with this suit thing...fine wines, a good car, a real hairstyle, opera, art films...

art photo sale

One of my favorite artists, the incomparable Katie West, is having a Christmas sale. I have two of Katie's prints in my office, three at home...and I will get more. Katie has a real eye for composition...it's great stuff.

If you like good photography, this is a great chance to own some prints from a good artist for very little money.

nighttime conversations

My darling, wonderful wife has a tendency, from time to time, to wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me something, even though she's fast asleep. I'm a fairly light sleeper, and it does usually take me a little while to get back to sleep from these interruptions...but I don't mind, because when she wakes me, it's usually fairly cute or funny.

The first time this happened, she called my name a few times in a panicy voice. When I asked her what the problem was, she said, "I changed the sheets!" before rolling over and going back to sleep. I, meanwhile, was fairly puzzled. I spent the next hour or so trying to figure out what was wrong with the sheets. Of course, the next morning, she remembered none of this.

Saturday night, I was fast asleep and dreaming that me and my buddy Davin were picking up writer Joss Whedon from the fast food place at which he worked, and, to pass the time, Davin was teaching me a new system for abbreviating dirty words. Lori then poked me in the back a few times, waking me from this (albeit nonsensical) slumber. Groggy, I asked her what was up, and she asked me, "Are you liquid?" She didn't wait for an answer, though. I hit the restroom, and by the time I got back, my wife was once again snoring like a wildebeast.

The cutest one, however, happened a while ago. She came close to me, hugged me, and let out a satisfied "hmmmm." Then she rubbed my bootie, let out an even more satisfied "hmmmmmmmmm" before rolling over and going back to sleep.

She didn't remember that one, either, but I'll never forget it. I look at it as proof that my animal magnetism is so severe, I can woo 'em even when unconscious.

and they start...

I just got my first rejection from a Canadian university, so the job
market search is progressing much as expected...

In grading/end of semester hell. Updates coming, including on the
student who wanted to write about why we fight wars...in 6 pages.

you have a talent for causing things pain

I remember it as if it were last week...

I had a dentist appointment last week, and, even worse, it was my first time at this particular practice. I was happy with our last dentist, but, after hearing the rumors of malpractice, unnecessary work, virgin sacrifice, and general ineptitude, my wife insisted we change dentists. And who am I to disagree?

I got to the waiting room and suffered through the normal 378 page bundle of paperwork...although I'm still not completely sure why they need my power of attorney or the dna swab. From that point on, I just had to brave the 37.9 degree waiting room until the albino nurse with the raspy voice called my name. While waiting, I got into a minor scuffle with one other patron, the homeless man wrapped up intermittently in toilet paper who kept muttering under his breath, but other than that, the time passed as well as could be expected.

When the nurse called my name, I went to the back, stripped down to my socks, and tied on the pink leather apron as they requested. They took me to what they called "waiting room aleph cerebro" and had me gargle with mouthwash...I had my choice between spearmint or hero's bile flavors. Then, after the nurse removed the ice packs from the dentist's chair, I sat down, they stuck an IV of some luminescent green fluid into my arm, and the nurse told me that someone would be with me shortly.

The dental hygenist came in after an hour or so...she's one of those super perky types (as hygenists seem to be), and she seemed to know her stuff, but I could've really done without the random bouts of maniacal laughter. She tried to make small talk, but I've always found it difficult to respond when I have a few dozen tools lodged in my mouth. She then propositioned me, and after I told her that I was married, she instead tried to sell me some tooth-whitening product...she said that her bosses make her suggestively sell a variety of products. The hygenist then started the cleaning.

After she finished her scraping and chiseling, the dentist himself came in. Like most dentists, he looked like a cross between Don Knotts and Josef Mengele. After taking about five minutes to stroke my hair, he poked around my teeth for a while before saying the words that every person over 5'7" dreads: "We need to schedule you for a filling."

Even as I sit here in my office and try to find ways to avoid work, the very thought fills me with a slight panic. I start to go over my list of sins to try and figure out what I did to deserve this, but alas, I continue to draw a blank. How could this happen to me?

I've never had a cavity before. Even as a kid, my teeth were very strong, strong enough that my father would use them to loosen tight bolts whenever he worked on the 1976 Plymouth Scamp. And I never really took care of them, much to the chagrin of my siblings, both of whom had so many cavities that they were fitted with dentures in fourth grade...all this in spite of them brushing eleven times a day to my monthly brushings. Yes, I had always been blessed with wonderful teeth.

No longer. I finally have a cavity. And while I realize that most of my friends have had cavities, and that they seem to deal with the stigma and shame, I had always pictured a better life for myself.

I think of the things which, now that I have a cavity, I can no longer do. I will now never be chief justice of the Nebraska supreme court. I will never have my own Playboy column. I will never be allowed to shake hands with the President. I will never be the star of my own video game. And I will never be an astronaut.

This must be how the rest of you feel.

I have the filling scheduled for this Friday. I don't know what I'm going to do during this, my last week of freedom. I might write a play. I might smoke a cigar. I might try to break my own record for jars of honey eaten at one sitting.

I know I should try to enjoy myself, but it's hard, when everything reminds you of the fact that fillings are imminent. I hear the construction workers drilling outside my office, and I think of the drilling which I'll soon have to undergo. I see my department secretaries in their scrubs and masks, and I think of the hygenists. I see my students, and I think of the dentist, living only to inflict pain on others.

If you see me on the streets and I'm crying, please try to understand that I'm going through a rough time in my life.

connections, or, hey man, I'm with the band...

I was driving into work today, listening to a cd of mp3s on random play. It started out with Black Sabbath, a band that's very important to me. If anyone ever asks me how I learned how to play guitar, I could just hand them a copy of Paraniod...it's as good of an answer as any.

After I stopped to vote and get gas, The Daileys' "Toast the Town" came on (at least I think that's the title). The Daileys were friends of mine who played around Jacksonville. They never released anything, but as the singer was one of my best friends, I got a number of demos and live tracks...and I love them almost as much as Black Sabbath, although in a very different way. You see, with The Daileys, I experienced the band much differently. I got to hang out with them, ride to shows with them, drink with them, help them set up and tear down...and these are experiences I could never have with bands like Black Sabbath.

I've often thought about my move away from being a heavy metal guy. If anyone knew me in high school, they'd know I had the heavy metal hair (including a brief stint with the Bon Jovi perm), listened to metal pretty much exclusively, dressed in the metal uniform of jeans and concert shirt, and I even owned some spiked wristbands.

Since this time, I've broadened my tastes significantly. The first big non-metal band for me was Living Colour, who took metal and expanded the playing ground significantly with hip-hop and funk, among others. Then came my huge Frank Zappa phase, which taught me that boundaries are not at all necessary. The next big one was Son Volt, who taught me that country and rock could and should go hand in hand. The last big one was the now unfortunately defunct Slobberbone, who taught me that rock could be vital again, and it could be something with which I could still connect.

My move away from metal wasn't just a matter of being bored with the music. Metal is at times seemingly impervious to change (see this article on 80s metal acts on tour for a demonstration), but I still need the crash of guitars, so I often put up with the stagnation. The most important factor for me, though, is I quit being able to relate or even stand the "star/performer" aspect. Jeff Tweedy wrote that "every star that hides on the back of the bus is just waiting for his cover to be blown," and I started to suspect the same thing...and I think I increasingly needed a greater connection with the bands.

A good number of the bands I now listen to and go to see are those to whom I can relate. They may have day jobs. They're probably going to be loading in their own equipment. They'll be riding in a van, not a bus. You probably can approach them at the show and talk to them over a beer.

Case in point: a while back, I got an e-mail from The Drams' mailing list asking for volunteers to work merchandise for some shows on their tour with the Drive-By Truckers...and since they were playing Detroit, and since both bands are among my current favorites, I volunteered. They chose me, so on October 20th, me and a good friend made the trip.

I was told to find "Keith," who would help me get the merchandise set up...when I made it over to the table, I found out it was the bass player for the band. He was a little "rock and roll" but still a very nice guy. After their set, he came over, looked at the merchandise sales figures, and hugged me. Jess, their guitar player, came over, introduced himself, and snagged a cd for his parents. Tony (the drummer) and Chad (the keyboard player) both came over, introduced themselves, shook my hand, and thanked me for helping them out...and at the end of the night, I talked to Brent (the singer/guitar player) for a few minutes. I felt a little like a VIP, but it was cool just being able to help. I think The Drams are one of the best bands out there, and I just want them to keep playing and putting out albums...and I'll do whatever I can to help.

I was thinking about this, because I am also a very big Drive-By Truckers fan, and I was also excited to see them play. I've seen DBT play twice before in Detroit, but it was at a smaller club...this time, they were in a theater. And by watching them, it was clear that they've made some kind of hurdle, because all I kept thinking was "they sure aren't a club band anymore." Maybe it was that they had stage props and professional lighting, or maybe they'd just gotten better, but they seemed made for playing big rooms. They projected themselves well, and the set was rollicking, explosive, and, as any good rock show should be, just a little transcendent.

I did not, however, have the opportunity to meet them. They now have a full road crew, up to their own merchandise guy. They have a bus, not a van. They are, in short, professionals...and they never came out from backstage. The thing is, I love that band, and their performance was amazing. And they've worked very hard and deserve every bit of success that's in their grasp.

I don't, however, have the same connection with them that I had with The Drams. I'm a fan of DBT, but I'm rooting for The Drams...and in some small way, I feel like I'm a part of them. I truly want The Drams to be huge, but I know that if they ever do achieve fame, it will take them further away from me.

Maybe this conundrum is just another sign (like I need another...) that I'm getting old. I love my art as much as ever, but since I no longer fit into a mass of fans (back in high school, I hung around a whole lot of metal kids), I look for those connections with the artists themselves. Maybe I'm just more political and would rather give my money to a cool group of guys like Grand Champeen who actually need my money than to Foo Fighters, who could buy and sell me many times over...but maybe helping out the little guys is just another way for me to connect.

Music, like art, is often about connections...and although the show made me fear that I might be losing another band to the big time, I did, after all, get to go see the show with a good friend, and we did share some new experiences, and maybe we became a bit better friends because of it. And I guess I can let my favorite bands become bigger and maybe more distant if I can then share my love for this music with friends, thus helping strengthen that connection...after all, it's the connections that are really important.

science request?

Can anyone tell me why toilet paper seems to staunch blood flow in shaving cuts? Why don't we use it in first aid kits?

I pull my shirt off and pray...

Today is election day in the US. For all of our sakes, get out there and vote.

The number to keep handy is 1-866-OUR-VOTE, which goes to The National Campaign for Fair Elections. Please keep an eye out for any irregularities in the election proceedings. Anything out of the ordinary, call them.

You want news on the election? Check out BBC News's site...they're generally fairly unbiased on such matters.