Molly Ivins: An appreciation

Political columnist Molly Ivins died in 2007. So as a little tribute, I cut up a speech she gave at Tulane U in 2004 and made some video snippets. Each clip is two to three minutes - very short.

Personally, I'll miss Ivins because she had a knack for espousing very populist, progressive views without clobbering people over the head with it.

The first clip is classic Ivins as she talks about defending the First Amendment against the machinations of an anti-pornography minister in Austin, TX.

She followed politics for the Texas Observer and could spin hilarious yarns about some of the odd elected officials that lived on planet Texas.

Ivins was critical of politicians and the political machine. But she never became cynical. That is, perhaps one of the things I admire about her most.

Merry X-box or xmas or something

Here are some things I love about this time of year.

Lights everywhere. It makes sense that during the darkest time of year, that people celebrate light. Whether you follow the traditional pagan recognition of the solstice or you believe Jebus is the light of the world.

And by the way, isn't it funny to hear the Christians complain about the 'war on xmas?' Or complain that Santa - a make believe character - is replacing Jebus as the symbol of the season? I find it just as plausible that a dude in a sleigh drawn by eight flying reindeer can deliver toys to children all around the world in one night - as I do that god decided to impregnate a virgin and that his son would perform magic tricks, get nailed to a cross and then rise from the dead.

Well, maybe that's all I like about this time of year. Nice having a day off work too I suppose.

Hey, my buddy Bill just started a blog. Check out his photos, he's a smashing photog.

Merry New Year y'all.

Here's what you get when...

...you put a guitar geek in front of a computer with a video camera.

Five days in Playa del Carmen

Highlights:

My Mrs, already beautifully sun-browned and delicious from over a week in Playa met me at the bus station. In the first half hour she got me a chicken tamale from a street vendor, gave me a few shots of tequilla and then 'put it on me' back at the hotel.

That pretty much set up how the next five days went.

Me, the Mrs and her sister - the kid Dominique - kept the following schedule:

a.m. - breakfast, beach
p.m. - beach, nap, 1st dinner and drinks
late a.m. - more drinks and 2nd and third dinner (usually found at a taco stand or pizza joint).

Other highlights:

Drinking all of the tequilla in Playa (or at least trying)
smoking a real Cuban cigar
food and drink everywhere you go
lots of friendly dogs hanging out at the bars.
warm sunshine, blue waters and tropical breezes
taste of the ocean and Resposado Tequilla on wife's lips
sitting on the beach at night in Tulum, watching the waves crash onto reefs and sand and spending the night in a cabana with the Mrs which was reminiscent of our honeymoon seven years ago.

(And just for the record, my wife is already more beautiful than 99.9% of the mortal females. But she got even more gorgeous with a few extra layers of sun darkened skin contrasting against her white bikini.)

In short, my five days in Playa was all about love, sunshine, tequilla, ocean, sky, good eats, family, friendship, sex, dreams and art.

My friends, I ask you, 'what more do you need?'

(More pics of the trip and posted here.)

Feline delinquent attempts arson

Does this look like the face of a criminal?

Yep.

My cat Baci nearly burned down the friggin' building this week.

I went out for a few hours to a friends house and when I got home and opened the door to the building, I immediately smelled gas. When I walked into the apartment and entered the kitchen, I found a pan full of tomato sauce on the floor next to the stove and the right front burner nob turned all the way up, filling the kitchen with natural gas.

I launched into a tirade of profanity as I began to open windows and break out the fans to get the dangerous fumes out of the building. I knew it was Baci, because he'd lately taken to jumping on the stove on his way up to the top of the refrigerator. I wanted to choke that little cat, but first I had to alleviate the threat of an explosion. I had to move fast because at any moment a spark could have blown us all to kingdom come (and I half expected Baci to try and finish the job by lighting a cigarette or something).

Not only did he nearly kill us all, he spoiled the rest of the very lovely tomato sauce I'd made the day before. I was hungry and looking forward to eating it over some linguini.

That little fucker might have 9 lives, but I've only got one. So every morning I tape up the nobs on the stove before I leave the house.

Dude, look at the chicken

Reason #45 why taking a week off of work and putzing around the apartment is a good idea:

Grilling chicken.

What can I say? It was sunny and 70 degrees. I had a grill. I had charcoal. I had chicken. I had rum.

I took some time off from enjoying the new iMac and ventured outside to fix some vittles and the gods smiled on my face. And they blessed my chicken with crispy skin and wonderfully smokey flavor.

mmmmmmmmmmmm...

Party in my tummy indeed

This video sums up the last four days I spent with the mrs and some close friends down in Houston. All we did was eat, drink, eat, drink, hang by the swimming pool and sleep.

On the first night, my man Nate grilled some fillet Mignon. The next night, the Mrs made a shrimp scampi with fresh, wild caught gulf shrimp. Then there was grilled pork tenderloin with what I call 'magic potatoes.' And the final night, grilled beef tenderloin sandwiches w/ Mexican style corn on the cob. The sandwiches were made with croissants, cheddar cheese AND horseradish mayo.

Creamy, fatty, goodness.



Did I mention, that every morning we fought back hangovers with waffles, bacon, Keri's special French Toast (right) and hash browns?

Geek Week

I've declared the week of Oct. 1 through Oct. 5 to be "Geek Week." And to celebrate, I bought myself my dream computer and have taken the week off of work. Throughout the week I'll be nerding-out in style exploring the vast features and bells and whistles of the new 24" iMac. If you are also a geek, then I'll tell you it also contains a 2.4 ghz duo-core processor, 320 gb hard drive and 2 gbs of RAM. It'll burn DVDs and CDs faster than a, er, well it's pretty darn fast. Plus, it's a bajillion times more powerful than my old iMac which I got seven years ago.

A few things I’ve learned in 40 years of living

Tomorrow, I’ll be 40 years old. That’s as close to 50 as I’ve ever been in my life. So it’s got me thinking about a few nuggets of wisdom I’ve accumulated. Allow me to share a few:

Try something new --- If you dread doing things that take you out of your comfort zone, ie: traveling, eating new food, exercising, meeting new people – that’s a signal that you must do them. I have found that more often than not, the activities or experiences that I think will make me uncomfortable turn out to be just fine – even enjoyable.


Meet your demons --- Like most people, I have personal demons who inhabit my subconscious mind. Over the years, I’ve gotten to know them on a first name basis.
First there’s Argok – the Lazy. He’s a smug, fat, slovenly demon who tells me to stay in my comfort zone and not try anything new. Argok constantly reminds me that I’m pretty cool the way I am and don’t have to worry about improving myself.

Then there’s Grakeziel – the Seductress. She’s the demon who compels me to seek instant gratification and generally messes with my self-discipline. She whispers to me when I’m hungry, “One little New York slice of pepperoni pizza isn’t going kill ya.”

And there’s Sharshamel the Timid. He’s a cowardly demon that pushes me away from conflict. His mantra is: “If you make people mad at you, they won’t like you anymore.”

Do you have demons like these?

Accept the randomness of the universe --- Shit really does ‘just happen.’ And any attempts to explain or rationalize why that’s the case are futile. Holding a lucky rabbit’s foot, or four-leaf clover is just as good of protection against calamity as is a cross. Bad things happen to people to who pray several times a day; who abstain from liquor; sex and all manner of vices; who volunteer their time to feed the hungry and clothe the naked.

So do all that if you want to, but don’t expect that’s going to keep you from getting eyeball cancer, or stop an anvil from falling on your sister or from your house from being destroyed by a rabid beaver infestation or some other awful act of nature.

The universe is random and mysterious and scary and wonderful.

Maybe in another 40 years, I’ll figure it out.

Found: One pair of blue, thong underwear on the street outside the post office in downtown Hastings

(a la Garrison Keillor)

"Questions about the origins of the displaced undergarments briefly replaced chit chat about the weather among Post Office customers and clerks for an entire day. That's saying something, since folks in Hastings take their weather talk very seriously.

"Molly Gustafson, who owns the sewing shop on the other side of Main street from the Post Office, was the first to see the crumpled underpants as she arrived just as the office opened. It was Monday, and Molly was mailing a stack of coupons announcing 15 percent off black thread spools to her repeat customers.

"She told postal clerk Marjorie Olsen about the dainty and now dirty unmentionables lying next to the lone handicapped parking space. Molly asked Marjorie if she'd ever consider wearing 'such a thing.'

"Marjorie was not a small woman. She grew up on a farm where she was brought up on whole milk, butter and healthy portions of Midwestern modesty. She snorted jocularly as she considered the sadistic design characteristics of the g-string. 'Oh Heavens,' she laughed. 'I don't even floss my teeth.'"

"It was a line she repeated several times that day."

A broad sweeping generalization about women that is based purely on anecdotal experience

If I’m in a hurry to get through a line at a grocery store or one of my favorite downtown lunch spots I make an effort not to stand in a line that contains more women than men.

It is a decision based less on gender and more on the fact that a certain part of the population carry purses that contain separate pockets for change, bills and cards. For example, the woman in front of me at Taco John’s orders a Number 5 burrito combo (with the free Churros) which comes to $5.78.

First, she reaches into the bill compartment and pulls out five singles and THEN opens the little change compartment to collect the 78 cents.

Then of course, after the transaction is done, instead of stepping aside and letting me order my taco salad with chicken, she has to reassemble the purse through a series of snaps and zips. Apparently most purses come with extra-secret compartments in which to hide change or cyanide tablets – just in case the owner of the purse is captured by the Nazis.

Indeed, some guys carry a wallet which does require an extra step. (Personally, I don’t carry a wallet. Wallets encourage pickpockets. Plus, they create an unsightly bulge on my otherwise shapely butt.) But I’ve never seen a dude subsequently pull out a change purse after laying down a couple bills.

I ask you, what is wrong with getting some spare change? Give it to panhandlers or take it home and put it in a jar. If you have free laundry, set it aside and take it to the bank after a few months. I used to get anywhere from $65 to $100 each time I took a bag of change to the bank.

Caffeine is a helluva drug

"I've got wild, staring eyes/And I've got a strong urge to fly/But I got nowhere to fly to..."

--Roger Waters

Bad Wims

Heh. I don't know what this little animal is, but I'm adopting it as my avatar. He is Bad Wims.

Fall approaches downtown Minneapolis

Fall is nearing here in DT Minneapolis. And the cooler temps mean more business-suited individuals are returning to the Skyways to get around. The homeless and other displaced wanderers are also more prevalent inside the human habitrails.

Personally, I'm a fan of fall. The weight of humidity is gone from the air and I feel like I can stand up straighter when I walk outside. Plus it's becoming soup and stew weather. Once again, I can hunker down in my flourescently lit workcube and enjoy a warm bowl of goodness and a chunk of bread.

Fall is also the beginning of pro football season. It's a time of year when we lifelong Vikings fans can enjoy at least a few weeks of optimism, until the crushing reality of the Purple's consistent mediocrity compels us to downgrade our playoff hopes, to 'well it'd be nice if they came out 9 and 7.'

Ah, fall....

Flashing before my eyes...

While going through a box of mementos I happened upon an envelope full of ticket stubs of some shows I went to years ago. I was flooded with memories of my youth and here are some highlights:

The Replacements and Soul Asylum @ the Entry Oct. 15, 1985. Soul Asylum bass player breaks bass string and the Mats open with "Color Me Impressed."

The Red Hot Chili Peppers @ First Ave Mainroom Oct. 9, 1989 -- Flat out one of the best shows ever. The ticket was a birthday present and my roomies also bought me beers all night. I got seriously altered.

Fishbone and Primus @ First Ave. Mainroom - Nov. 2, 1991
The show came right after the huge Halloween Blizzard of '91. I was so afraid the show would be cancelled because the roads were in horrible shape. But it wasn't. Bass guitar god Les Claypool was dressed in a dark blue hoodie for the whole show and he just rocked it.

Public Enemy and Stetsasonic @ First Ave. Mainroom - Dec. 12, 1988
The stage in the mainroom kept vibrating and making Terminator X's records skip, so Chuck D and Flavor Flav had to tone down the stageshow. But they still killed me. It was my first big hip hop show and I knew every rhyme to every song they did.

Monsters of Rock @ the Metrodome - July 13, 1988
My first time and only chance to see Eddie Van Halen play guitar. It was worth it, even though Sammy Hagar was fronting the band. Metallica blew my head off. Scorpions were boring. Dokken lackluster. But here's the worst part of the show: I was living in a house across the street from the dome and invited some of my old high school buddies to park next to my house during the concert. Unfortunately, my landlord wasn't amused and had all their cars towed. My friends were pissed at me.

Stevie Ray Vaughan and Jeff Beck @ the Northrop Auditorium - Oct. 25, 1989
My third and last time seeing the great SRV. Beck did a set. Stevie did a set. And then they jammed together. Oh god was that amazing. Weirdest memory from the show was there was some jarhead douchebag sitting behind us and he kept getting pissed everytime one of us stood up. So we sat. And then Stevie did "Voodoo Chile," so we said F-it and stood up. The guy got up came around in front of us and tried to pull one of my buddies down to the floor. He was then ejected from the building.

Other memorable shows - The Suburbs @ the Mainroom in 1984, Violent Femmes in the Mainroom in 1985, Ice-T and Body Count @ the Mainroom Feb. 10, 1992 (the brothers weren't havin' none of the moshpit); House of Pain w/ Rage Against the Machine @ the Mainroom April 5, 1993 (Rage Against the Machine melted my face off and I hooked up with cute chick after the show); Living Colour w/ Bad Brains @ Mainroom April 26, 1993 (dude - Vernon Reid and Dr. No in one show) and Prince at Glam Slam - July 25, 1994 - The Love Experience consisted of Prince, Michael Bland on drums, Sonny T on bass and Tommy Barbarella on keyboards. Prince played guitar all night and tore the shit down.

this is where chicken comes from

Long story short -- last weekend my wife killed a chicken, plucked it, gutted it, butchered it and then cooked it. Boy, it was delicious.

I took lots of photos here.

There's a bit of narrative with the photos that explain why in the hell anyone would do such a thing. But I'll tell you it was done, not out of bloodlust, but out of a sense that one should know where their food comes from. And, that folks should know that if you eat meat, something's gotta die first.

I was inspired by a recent post from whiskeymarie with eight interesting things about her. So what the hay, here it goes:

1. I'm a grown-ass man who thinks puppets are funny. From the Muppets to Sifl and Olly - non-stop hilarity.

2. As a kid I was on the back of 'monster cereal' cereal boxes: Count Chocula, Franken Berry, Boo Berry and Fruit Brute. It was a promotion selling little dolls of the monster characters. And yes, I did get all four dolls. (fyi - the photo above is not a pic of the box. I have a framed cutout which i keep in a safe place.)

3. I'm a jack-of-all-trades, master of none. I dabble in writing, art, music - a halfway decent guitar player - but don't ask me to sit down and play you a song, because all I do is noodle.

4. I don't like cilantro. It tastes like soap.

5. I'm a night person and a morning person. But I'd rather be napping during the afternoon.

6. People think I'm smart because I can remember and recall lots of trivial information.

7. My favorite part(s) of my own body: my hands.

8. My dad is more interesting than me. He's a freelance screen/voice-over actor who's appeared in television commercials and he had a speaking role in a Disney movie which also starred Hulk Hogan and Lonnie Anderson.

An observation about downtown traffic

Recently, while standing at the corner of 7th Street and 2nd Ave. at evening rush hour, I witnessed a frustrating scenario. An ambulance, with its lights flashing and siren blaring, is trying to make its way north on 7th. There is considerable gridlock. And none of the drivers of the cars who are by now seeing the ambulance in their rear-view mirrors, feel the necessity to drive forward to get out of the way.

So the ambulance just sits there, for what must be an eternity while the drivers slowly figure out that in order for the emergency vehicle to get by them, that they'll actually have to make room.

Who knows what type of emergency it's speeding off to: a heart-attack? a stabbing? shooting?

Meanwhile, a woman standing next to me on the corner, voices the same frustration, I'm starting to feel (except her voice sounds much more Minnesotan than mine). "What if that ambulance was trying to save someone they love? Would they get out of the way then? Jeezus!"

oooooh, that smell

I was going through the security checkpoint at the Hennepin County Government Center yesterday when I caught a noseful of 'body stank.' It was a powerful odor. Best described as obese-construction-worker-making-gravy-in-the-tropical-sun smell. In front of me in line was a young man wearing a dark hoodie pulled over his head. The security guard eyed him suspiciously and asked him why he was wearing a full sweatshirt on a 90+ degree day with a 70 degree dewpoint which, in my opinion, made the temperature actually feel hotter than Satan's bunghole.

Dude, sounding like Chester of Sifl and Olly fame, says, "I'm doing that Atkins thing. Heh, heh. Trying to sweat it out, you know."

Mind you, homeboy was skinny as a beanpole. He went through the metal detector without a bleep. So luckily, the most lethal thing he was carrying today, was the stank.

Ramp rage revisited

A bloggable moment from Saturday night:

Me and my special sweet baby M went for dinner in downtown Minneapolis. By the way, the food was great - particularly the lamb chops. Anyway, I'd parked in a nearby ramp (U.S. Bankcorp) that I found out later didn't have an after hours attendant. But it had one of those machines to stick your ticket in and pay.



Unfortunately, this machine didn't have a credit card slot. Only room for cash and below it a coin return receptacle. So what happens when I stick in my 20 dollar bill to pay for my four dollar fee? Like a Vegas slot machine it spits out 64 quarters.

WTF?