This is not a man with a blog.
411: Virginia, almost to North Carolina along state highway 17. Listening to: The imaginary sound of hobos trying to hop the train. Note: this is an entry from earlier this fall. My friends are getting remarried. They foolishly asked me to record the video for the ceremony. No problem. I spent the morning learning how to…
I can’t adequately express it, though I’m sure I’m showing symptoms of grief over Todd’s suicide. The moments of intense sadness, the inexorable hunt for details in the hopes of finding an explanation, the repeated listening to Satie’s sad piano compositions, and the morbid fascination with the bureaucratic wake that an unexplained death leaves: I’m…
If you live in San Francisco, you need to read my friend’s slate card for the upcoming runoff election at her blog. Also, I’ve decided not to be the old, grumpy uncle that bitches about politicians like Rep. Bill Janklow over Thanksgiving dinner. I’ve done something about it and you can too. There is no…
Rep. Bill Janklow’s (R-SD) trial started today. On August 16, 2003 about 4:30pm, Rep. Bill Janklow was speeding down a country road on his way home on a road he’d driven dozens, if not hundreds of times before. He ran a stop sign. He exceeds the speed limit often enough to have gotten 12 tickets…
411: In my living room before dawn Listening to: The crisp sound of a camera click I’m awake. I’m wide awake. It’s 4am and I can’t sleep. This doesn’t make a lot of sense, to me. In Seattle it’s 1am, I wouldn’t be up there. It’s 4am here, and I shouldn’t be up here either. I’m…
411: See that snowy, mountainous area we’re flying over? I’m contemplating which of my passengers to claims dibs on (for eating) when we crash land in those mountains. Music: “Hey ya”, Outkast “C’mon ladies, shake it, shake it, shake it like a Polaroid picture” Another plane ride, another cab driver. Getting into the cab had…
That photo was taken a little later than 4am, but it has my godson in it, so you can afford me a little license. 4:31am: Jetlag is hell but it’s getting better. Like a clock that’s a little fast, I wake up a few minutes later every day. If I stay here long enough I’ll wake…
411: Somewhere over Iowa, on my way to my godson Ewan’s second birthday Soundtrack: “To Zion”, Lauryn Hill Checking in to my flight at Dulles, I’ve achieved the Zen calm that comes with traveling extensively alone. Without hurry, without concern for what time the plane departs, and with almost no luggage. The world opens up…
411: In the basement with Mosi, pushing weight. Listening to: The sound of the dehumidifier cleaning the air of my perspiration. I have to puke. No really, I’m gonna hurl right here in my basement. I’m not kidding. And I don’t think I could lift my arms to save my life. Like if a burning…
411: Ground Zero of the biggest disappointment of the year, the Red Sox’s home, Boston MA. Listening to: The quiet whirr of a brushless 80mm computer fan. Ok, listen up. This is why I love Sarah. I’ve been meaning to build Sarah an art PC for a while now. A few weeks ago in a…