The stars at night, are big and bright...

17.07.08 6ish a.m. en route to Milwaukee Int'l Airport en route to Dallas, TX

The flight was kind of surreal because there were only six people on board…I counted. I felt uneasy because there was a creepy middle-aged woman who was ticketed in the back of the plane, but moved up to the seat in the row directly next to mine and I kept seeing her stare out of my periphery. Haven’t you seen anyone read a book lady?

This is a completely random observation, but U2’s first album, “Boy,” is freaking superb. It is such a shame that this band, who were as punk and edgy (no pun intended) as anyone turned into this caricature of their former selves. On the other hand, that may just be Bone-O, (sorry, Bono) since everyone else in the band is at his mercy. But this record, “War,” and “Joshua Tree” were such great records that the rest of their horrid career doesn’t even matter.

Ireland in the 1980s was a volatile time, and U2 were the musical nonconformists who gave the Irish people hope in a time of hopelessness. It was practically a pariah state, regarded as the most underdeveloped nation in Western Europe. It is a miracle how in 2008, Ireland is one of the most prosperous nations on Earth. It’s about time after 800 plus years of English oppression and civil war. To say that this was all heavy shit is an understatement, but at least we have “Boy.”

To all of the naysayers---pick up a copy of “Boy.” The Edge’s guitar work is truly gorgeous and his tone is near perfect. Bono sounded like a punk rock siren in those days, belting out every line as if his life depended on it. Larry Mullen’s drumming is superb and thick and Adam Clayton’s sparse bass work sets a darker tone than on any other record that they have made, save “War.”

I never thought that these guys would give me the chills, but after listening to the epic centerpiece “An Cat Dubh,” I am trembling.

21.07.08 9:53 a.m. Milwaukee Int’l Airport

I am still reading The Fish Can Sing, another Halldor Laxness novel. It is a mix of Kurt Vonnegut’s wry wit with Gabriel Garcia-Marquez’s poetics.

On Friday, Jamie and I left for Austin. I had wanted to go there for years. Ever since I got into music and heard about SXSW it was always somewhere that I had to see. The three hour drive from Dallas was more impressive than I thought it would be. After the hour-long trek out of Dallas city limits (it sprawls forever…and ever) the bigger sky leads way to vast open spaces with nothing more than a few barns on the horizon. The Texan countryside is mainly grassland, unlike other rural areas that I am familiar with. Any crops would probably be scorched from the blistering summer sun. Humongous Cumulus clouds are layered like cakes and stand frozen in time. It is a nice snapshot of what Texas probably was in the days of the cattle outposts.

The landscape is barren, but not as arid as images of Texas may conjure. The true desert does not begin until west Texas, which is easily a good 10 hour drive in light traffic. It is also not like the pancake flat plains of Dallas, which more closely resembles the Midwest but with more buildings. These grasslands are semi-arid and look like deserts with short, bristly grass and those squat, nubby trees that would not be out-of-place on the Serengeti or other savannahs.

At dusk with our tune blasting, nothing else mattered. The golden and red colors at the horizon made the 105F (40.5 C) day bearable. Austin was smaller than I expected, but was excellent nevertheless. Almost all of the quirky shops, bars, and venues were on 6^th street, which also leads up to the Texas State Capitol building. Again at dusk, the view of the Capitol, which is on a slight incline, is breathtaking.

Jamie and I had dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant on 6^th street and we both ordered their Pho to see how it compared to other places. The décor was pretty trendy and pretentious. The wall was covered in huge blow-up 16 X 24 NYC photos. The Pho was great, but not as good as my Pho place in Cleveland! Note to everyone- Pho Hoa (or Superior Pho) is the best Vietnamese place ever.

We must have walked up and down the main drag a dozen times, people watching and looking for somewhere without shitty music to get a drink. Naturally, the weekend that I go there are no good gigs coming to Austin. I guess I will just have to go back in the fall when everyone and their mom will be playing! So we opted for hanging out in a green space near the Capitol and watched an insane homeless man who looked like he escaped from a psych ward minutes before (still wearing his hospital scrubs) got on a city bus. After that, we finally settled on a bar, but left within five minutes because there was no AC and the temp was still ridiculous. So we hopped to another bar but it was creepy and empty. Finally there was a cozy spot with a middle-of-the-road alt rock cover band playing and we had a couple of beers and talked about random things. It is crappy to be in a long-distance relationship, but it is so true that the time you do spend together is so much more valuable!

Drained from the day, we drove back to our campsite after that one bar. Yes, we went camping in Texas in July…why?! Because we are warriors! No, but seriously, it was unforgiving and I will never do that again in such punishing heat.

The tent was easily 20 degrees hotter because there was no breeze at night and we had to keep it zipped so critters wouldn’t come in. It was one of the worst nights of sleep in my life, no question. I couldn’t get cool and the sweat wasn’t evaporating off of my skin and all I could think of was that this must be what Malaria is like.

For a first proper camping experience (you heard that correctly) I had a great time. There is no one better to go with than Jamie, who has been doing it since she was in the womb practically. I learned from the master! I eventually drifted into a light sleep and woke up the next morning to those perfect skies that described on the trip down here. I also couldn’t stop taking photos of the wild cacti that grew like weeds around the perimeter of the state park. We packed up shop and headed south to San Antonio.

…………………………………………………..

It took about an hour and-a-half to get to San Antonio from Austin. It is decidedly different because it looks more like a colonial Mexican city. It is also surprisingly compact and the Alamo sits in the center of town, unlike in a vast field of nothing as Hollywood would like you to believe. It was crawling with tourists, surprise, surprise.

The river walk was pleasant but looks artificial, even though it is real. We had a late lunch that this ridiculously good Mexican restaurant. It is pretty much as close to authentic as you can get in the States because San Antonio is about three and-a-half hours from the border. Fresh tortillas, tomatillo enchiladas, sweet chips and Tecate beer hit the spot times 800. Being so far south makes me want to visit Mexico more. Mexican culture permeates the city not only in the food but in the people---we saw dozens of cars with Mexican license plates. San Antonio is a winner and I will be back!

21 July 2008, en route back to Cleveland

I don’t understand business travelers. Seeing people fiddle about with Excel spreadsheets and Blackberry’s on board my early morning flight back up north got my gears grinding. Shouldn’t they have prepared for whatever they needed to do prior to their flight?

To the uptight dude sitting diagonally from me:

Honestly, is it that difficult for you to relax for TWO FREAKING HOURS? I don’t care what you do for a living, but no one is *that* busy. If you aren’t prepared for your presentation, client meeting or what have you by the time that you are mid air to your destination, don’t you think that your chances of being prepared when you land and arrive at your destination are SLIM-TO-NONE?! Read a book that you have been itching to read for a while or catch up on sleep for godsake!

Probably My Son Tune

After 10 years of recording and playing gigs, I am finally signed to a record label (albeit small!) Well, kind of...

The song "Worth Every While" will appear on the upcoming Series Two Records compilation. It is based out of Omaha, NB and the guy who puts out the records/ compilations also does booking for bands worldwide, so hopefully some doors will open. I am cautiously optimistic.

Other bands on this comp. are from Croatia, Germany, Canada, Denmark, New Zealand, Indonesia, Japan, Norway, Finland, US, Mexico, etc. It should be interesting to see where this goes!

The mornings are always young

I just finished reading Independent People by Halldor Laxness. Check it out if you dig Garcia-Marquez or Faulkner.

That jukebox in the corner blastin' out my favorite song...

...the nights are getting warmer, it won't be long
won't be long 'till summer comes...
now that the boys are here again

I just wanted to add that it is so difficult when I take walks and blast Thin Lizzy on my iPod because I really want to pump my fist in the air and do air guitar, but don't want to be taken for insane. Yep, Phil Lynott has that intense of an effect on me.

I love "Jailbreak" to pieces. In addition (but unrelated), I just heard the greatest New Order compilation ever. It has 7" and 12" alternate versions of every single that they released in their 27 year career. It is simply called "Singles" and has a leaf on the cover. Check it out!

No habitat

I was just thinking the other day about how much I miss record shops. I used to work in a grocery store and I would get tips from old ladies and suburbanites because we had a service where you could pull up to the curb and have your groceries loaded into your car (but that can be an entirely different story). Every week, I would save up all of my tips and go to the record store to peruse the aisles. Since they have been declining steadily in sales around the country, there are fewer places to visit and the joy of the mom and pop record store is rapidly becoming a faded memory.

I think that everyone has their own store. Mine was My Generation on the west side of Cleveland. It closed its doors four years ago after staying in business for two decades. A part of me died. Now I go to Borders and sometimes see other My Generation regulars, thumbing through the new releases, leaving empty handed.

We are like deer without habitat.

It has already been two years?!

A meditation from my book Smash Your T.V. and Have Adventures:

I miss the way that it rains in Reykjavík. In the morning when you wake up, you can barely hear the whispering cadence that the water makes on the window. I hate the way the rain falls elsewhere––droplets the size of my thumb print hit the Earth. Reykjavík is misty––the rain gently embraces your body. I wish that the feeling could last forever. Sometimes if you stop thinking so much, you can hear the wind whistle in time to the shower.

Ride an Effing Bike!

I was thinking about melting down all the cars in the whole world, Making brand new mountain bikes for all the boys and the girls -Jeff Ott

At last I am free. With gas prices hitting all-time highs every day of the week, I have taken a radical step forward by riding my bike at all times except for long hauls and to work because my office is nowhere near a bus line. So I am doing a Morgan Spurlock-esque experiment, tipping my hat to his work in “Supersize Me” and the TV series “30 Days.” Who knows how long it will work out, but I may as well try because gas prices will continue to rise and I love biking. It is such a great way to see your world for what it is really worth.

Today, for instance, I rode to the bank because I needed to deposit a check and some cash. I have been biking to the bank for years because it is ten minutes from where I live, but today made me more cognizant of how impractical it is to drive anywhere in my community. The town where I live is pretty hilly and going down the inclines adds great natural speed, even though the climb is a big laborious.

I am always surprised at how unkind the roads are to pedestrians and cyclists. I shouldn’t be fazed by it, but it is difficult to not be upset when the odds are stacked in favor of motorists. At one cross walk after another, the button for crossing is out of commission and whenever I do have a chance to cross, I barely make it because some moron in an SUV inches toward me like a vampire invading the crosswalk space. I don’t think that I will ever get over things like this because they lack basic levels of respect for well-being.

If more people decided to cycle, then the world would not be as tense. It improves balance and is one of the best things that you can do for yourself if weight loss is your mission. It is such a shame that it is still not taken seriously here as one of the most energy efficient modes of transport. The car has been of major focus to happiness and the fulfillment of aspirations because of conglomerations like GM who instilled the car culture mentality into American minds as early as the 1950s. In reality, they only emit carcinogens into our atmosphere, raise blood pressures, and encourage all things sedentary, leading to the “obesity epidemic” that the American media has a tizzy over.

There is an easy and cost-effective solution: RIDE AN EFFING BIKE! A bike! Two wheels and a seat! I don’t know about you, but I feel so much better, even cleansed, after biking. Whenever I drive, I feel drained and irritable. No matter what, I love my bike, even though it is 12 years old, has a slightly bent front wheel, and makes a squeaking sound that gets on my nerves.