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One Year In


This time last year Deanna and I were driving back from Washington, DC exhausted and elated.  Listening to news and liberal talk radio on the XM radio, enjoying updates about Barack’s first days in office, listening to the gears turn as he sharpened his approach to governing as President.  We’re not overly idealistic or naive, mind you, but hope was at a high those first few days as we breathed sighs of relief over his statements about closing Guantanamo, new anti-lobbying rules for his White House, pay freezes for his staff, and turning his attention to the economy and the Middle East.  A year later, where has all that hope gone?

Right here, that’s where it’s gone.   Read more…

You Can Dance If You Want To


So it turns out this geyser, while unending, may in fact be intermittent.  Not unlike Old Faithful or governmental competence.  Fair enough.

Truth is I kind of forgot I had a blog for a minute there, what with canvassing, holiday shopping, looking for work, enjoying time with friends and family, getting sick twice consecutively, and generally freaking out about my state of tremendous underemployment.

But one good thing that happened, musically speaking, is that I received a box set of all of Paul Simon’s CDs for Christmas.  Stoked!  I cut my teeth on this stuff (not literally– it’s an expression, and kind of a strange one at that.  I mean, teeth are used for cutting.  It’s like saying “I cut my knife,” it makes no sense.  I presume it’s some sort of animal-related tooth-sharpening reference, but really I don’t know.  I’ve decided to use the expression anyway, so if you have a problem please take it up with management), but I’ve never had it on disc before. Read more…

The Maelstrom


The Crow (Pop-Up Version)

So I haven’t been blogging much.  Not sure why that is– probably because I’ve been working late hours.  It’s okay, though.  I figure that since there’s not really a following here, I could write whenever the mood strikes, and my writing jones tends to come in spurts.  And frankly, I could write whatever offensive, thoughtless drivel I wanted and nobody would see it anyway.  This is a remarkably freeing arrangement.

Since my last post I’ve continued canvassing four days a week, I turned 34, went to two Halloween parties (I was a teabagger, Deanna a health insurance vampire), celebrated the year anniversary of the election of President Barack Obama, went to a premier screening of “By The People” at the Carter Center, and imported a deluge of new music into iTunes.  I’m fortunate to own a lot of music, and have begun the slow process of absorbing it.  I had a lot of box sets just sitting there, and I figure listening to them on my hard drive will get them more, um, spins.  If you will.

I guess that brings me to a point Read more…

Obscure Monday Radness


This here’s Ray Bonneville.  I only know about him because once, in 1998, as I was falling half-asleep at about one in the morning in my first apartment in Atlanta, PBS had displayed the usual penchant for top-notch musical programming.  Ray was playing a set, and did a song that, in my twilight delirium, just seemed like the most perfect song I’d ever heard at the time by the name of “The Good Times.”  I struggled to move my body enough to write the guy’s name down so I could check him out after I slept, and I’m glad I did!  Ray is the real deal, a good writer and musician who’ll probably never be super-famous but keeps on trucking with good tunes.  “The Good Times” isn’t available on youtube or iTunes, so I thought I’d give you a nice version of probably his most popular song.

People Who Aren’t Crazy


So I’ve now been a part-time field canvasser for the Democratic Party of Georgia for just over a week.  I wish it paid enough to live on, but I’m happy to be doing something that I believe is for the greater good until I can find something better.  And to this point, just about every time I’ve gone out I’ve met at least one borderline crazy person.  It’s comforting to know that the crazed aren’t few and far between; they’re contained in a random daily sampling of the citizenry.

There was one guy, for example, who was sitting on a lawn chair in the carport of his somewhat unkempt house.  He was smoking.  His skin was like leather, he had a raspy voice and a buzzcut, and although he was cordial he was also three-quarters off the curb, so to speak.  He told me he was a “goddamned radical” when he was my age, and had volunteered for the Barry Goldwater campaign.  I was instantly caught in a swirling vortex of his incoherent rhetoric, and incoherent is a kind term.  I knew I was wasting my time, and had both feet pointed back toward the street as I tried to inch my way back towards reality.  Nice guy, though.  I liked the way his eyes periodically rolled back into his head while he was talking.

And then yesterday I had the pleasure of speaking to (not with) two older guys, sitting in front of a much nicer house, having an adult-style beverage. Read more…

Don’t Know How I Missed It…


Slightly opinionated piece from Evan Handler from a couple of weeks ago:

Poll: Ugly Stupid Uniforms of the AFC


If you know me, you know I love history in general and sports history in specific and sports uniform history in extra-specific.  When you’re a designer who’s a sports fan it’s kind a natural result.

Also, if you know me, you know that while I’m not super-traditional about uniform design, I think roughly half the uniforms in the NFL are stupid and, in many cases, inferior to their predecessors.  So in an effort to gauge the opinion of  this blog’s enormous readership, I thought we’d start with the first in a series of polls.  Even the ladies and non sports fans are welcome to participate, as it’s purely a question of aesthetics.  Shall we review the candidates? Read more…