thoughts on thinking, thoughts on shanking

don't have much to write about, but I want to get that "schedule blog" out of the homepage.

yo trabajo mucho. I like that I work hard. It's nice to think that people that work with me could say, "he works his butt off." makes me proud, but I'm not really in love with what I'm doing.

I cut myself the other night... I was feeling sad. Just kidding! I cut myself at work with a corkscrew knife--trying to pull up the bar rails for to wash them, pull them up by sticking sharp and curved corkscrew knife into special hole in rail then lifting vigorously. Must be saved till the end of the night as it looks rather strenuous and questionable for the bar, not at all good for high-class patrons to have to witness that kind of thing. That's the kind of thing that could down-right ruin a $200 meal. There's a lot of things that could ruin a $200 meal. In fact, I'm wondering what could save a $200 meal.

Anyways, the rails, the knife, the night. Literally, figuratively, this was the last thing I had to do before I paid the dishwasher to take out my glass and garbage because I'm too lazy and he's too enterprising and Lo! the knife slips out of the hole and shanks me. The laceration occurred at the base of my right index finger, parallel to the crease near the palm. I knew right away that it would require medical attention if not stitches and I quickly set the corkscrew down and hustled downstairs wash and visually inspect my freely-bleeding wound. Visual inspection and the cook Joel confirmed that this gash would require stitches.

Blackbird footed the bill for the sutures and tetanus shot, as I was toiling under the auspices of bar care, my general area. Here's a nice picture of my 3 sutures:



strange event overall. I'm surprised that something like this hasn't happened earlier while bar-backing (bar back is like woody or coach on cheers). there's a lot of glass and knives and just a lot of chances to get cut.

also strange when trying to reconcile this with my deterministic view of the universe. according to my philosophy, this HAD to happen. why is that? I believe that if I rewound the clock to 12:14 saturday night, going back to that instant 100 times, all 100 times I will shank myself with a corkscrew knife. It wasn't exactly fate, but it was the thing that was going to happen at that instant, the thing that did happen. It makes sense why it happened: super busy night, late, tired, absolutely the last thing I had to do, happy to be going home, happy to be done, not really paying attention, stupid task, stupidly-designed rails, sharp-ass corkscrew knife. It all adds up. But shit I really wish I hadn't cut myself. My jobs are all hand-based and arm-based and I'm kind of out of commission until the healing takes, maybe 3-4 days, maybe 7 days. At any rate, this is much longer than I've had off in about 3 months.

How to reconcile regret and embarrassment with necessity and determinism?

Here's another funny thought: take the rail out of the equation. Without the rail, you have just me standing there behind the bar, holding a sharp corkscrew knife. Suddenly, unexpectedly, I bring the knife up abruptly and slam it in the fleshy knuckle at the base of my right index finger. That's pretty absurd. I sure am glad that rail was there--at least the rail kind of rationalized this totally absurd experience.

in other news...

listening right now to Joel Korte's Late Night Sessions Vol. 6, which I played electric for (and some keyboards) and which Joel mailed to me on 5 CDs the other day. there's some good stuff on there. it needs severe editing (5 discs!) and it's pretty jammy--but of course it was bound to be. that was a fun night.

reading... not reading much of anything. I wish I had more time to read. I read the paper and I'm reading a nice book about how learn good wines taste mmm. me learn wine good work more money rich people wine talk. basically here is the gist of the true knowledge I've gained about wine (it's all about wine at these restaurants): I can now identify boring wines. The key thing with a wine is that it should be interesting. I find that most all wines are palatable (except the most sugary garbage with too much alcohol), but the question is if a wine is worth drinking. Is it interesting? Now I'm trying to hone my knowledge about specific grapes and how to talk about wine. It's all about talk.

that's about all for now. In other news, here's what I did this morning. Whoops!

theeeeeeeese days...

"I've been out walking... I don't do too much talking."

Here is my schedule for a bit starting with last Wednesday:

Wed:
Terra 10:30am-4:00pm
Avec 5:00pm-1:30am

Thur:
Terra 9:00 (Elem. school fieldtrip
Hatch Elementary (after-school gig) 3:00-5:00
Blackbird 6:30--12:00am

Fri:
Blackbird !0:00am-3:00pm
Double Shift 3:30--12:30am

Sat:
Sleep late
Blackbird 3:45-12:00am

Sun:
Sleep late
Avec 5:00pm-12:30am

Mon:
Terra 10am-7:00
Terra Monday Night Adult Wheel Class! 7-10pm

Tues:
Terra 10-3pm
Blackbird 4-12am

Wed:
Terra 10-4pm
Avec 5-1:30am

Thur:
Terra 10-2:30pm
Hatch Elem. 3-5pm
Broken Social Scene!

Molly surprised me with tickets one night when I got home from work. I'm pretty excited about this concert 1) because these guys have rocked my world for a couple years now and 2) I won't work that night.

Thrashings

birding continues in new mexico for molly and joe.

shortly before we got back to work, in the third week of break, after mexico and patti, I first heard the thrasher. it snapped me out of the yard-induced stupor that had me slumped in chair. I was hearing it for a bit, but didn't really listen to it until after about a minute of it blowing real good. the thrasher, what I heard, is some kind of hep jazz cat. in fact, most characterizations of its "song" note a "phrase"-type structure. I was able to determine strains of a b-flat mixolodyian phrygian modal, but I would need my tuner to be certain.

(Hear for yourself--sort of [thrasher song]. The version I heard was much fuller with trills and tremolos, bouncing wildly up and down the scale. It has so far been the best part of the thrasher happening, and it has been quite a happening.)

well lucky me I had the audubon field guide and high-powered binoculaurs close by, and was able to identify the curve-billed thrasher, toxostoma curvirostre (this entire posting will rely heavily on the National Audubon Society Field Guide to NOrth American Birds, Western Region). I was able to distinguish this thrasher from other common thrashers because of its song, in addition to the prominent yellow eyes and patterned chest. Nice nuggets to put in the back of mind, unawares of just how close I would get to this thrasher and its mate.

Not one week later I took an unplanned, slightly alternate path to work. Allow me to explain with a simple diagram:



the green arrow indicates my normal daily commute, two blocks to alma. upon exiting the hidden door-gate I hem tightly to the wall, heading towards the sidewalk and south to court ave. because, really, why not go directly for the sidewalk? I don't remember what was happening the morning that I meandered around the cactus (the route indicated in blue), but upon my arrival in front of the fortress of thorns that guards our lot I was surprised by a rapid beating of wings, a thrashing perhaps, as the thrasher--those yellow eyes!--exited in haste, a nice jolt to both our mornings, hopefully.

[this shot was taken from the lot side, the author's view as he leaves his yard in the morning. it was taken days after the initial encounter. the red square is therefore an approximation of where the thrasher (blue square) flew out of on the street side. ed.]

I continued on to alma, where I sweep floors and change bedpans for a pittance, thinking nothing of that morning's episode, until, upon arriving home, I once again found myself standing in front of camp prickly pear. I thought perhaps to check for a nest of some sort. As you can see my mind and my day move incredibly fast. Leaning in, I spied not only the thrasher's (thrashers', I would soon find out) nest, but also two perfectly simple and tiny blue eggs. I now had to start the search for the other thrasher, the first thrashers mate, a game that would bring me not only deep into the world of thrashers, but also tenderly into the lives of this particular family.




One of the adults is slightly larger. They like to stay close by in the upper branches of the only two adjacent trees. I often see them with bits and choss hanging from their beaks. Though I haven't seen any feedings, it is quite fun to watch the adults swoop down into their thorny abode.

Over the next week and a half I watched anxiously as the eggs did nothing. Then, lo!, they hatched. They hatched into a pile of mush and feathers with two beaks, hardly a tweet among them much less a blistering flute solo. For 3 days they remained basically an undefined clump of bird matter, generally unmoving.
About 10 days ago, the babies switched into growth mode, quickly excelling through toddlerhood, childhood, and adolescence. Here they are in their brief childhood.

Skip ahead to the present. I spend at least 15 minutes any day I can watching the thrashers. Some days I have spent 30 minutes, watching, reading, cataloguing, and photographing the thrashers. I can't say they appreciate my presence, but I have also been careful to not seriously disturb them. Just today I may have rescued one of the adults from our tiger-beast, olive (any doubts about that banshee's ferociousness should be addressed to the pile of feathers I found in my dining room the other day). The young pups are now entering their young adult years, which, in bird time, equals roughly 18 human hours.


I believe my time with the thrashers is drawing to a close, so short and tender. The adults have certainly become more aggressive since juniors started leaving the nest. One or both of the adults will swoop down to within 2 feet of my face if I approach the nest, as this one did today.
In less than two weeks, the young babes look poised for flight, lacking only the large and downward-curving bill and those prominent yellow eyes. As they gain independence and eventually fly away, I hope they won't forget the blonde stranger who did fertility dances for them and fed them a slurry of earthworms and granola that had been prepared with his own teeth. I know I won't soon forget them.

Life, Work

I'm coming off a nasty bug just now. Last wednesday I woke up with that bad feeling. by 4:00 pm I had the full on achey-shakeys with a fever, and I had to skip the staff meeting (shed tear) and pass out with my clothes on. Thursday I woke at 7:30 to check my condition. Upon confirming that I was indeed shitty, I called the school and told them to spend their money on somebody else for the day (I only make bread when I go to the bakery). I then slept from 7:35 to 5pm, without moving once. I also didn't feel the need to move once. It wasn't as if I was telling myself to lay in bed and rest. I just wasn't telling myself anything.

The next 6 days up until the present have been a completely annoying mix of recovery and resickery. Today is the first day that I truly feel normal energy-wise, though still I hack up material from deep in the lungs. so... wednesday to wednesday! 7 days of sick! I haven't been sick for years, and now 7 days straight!

Which brings me to the point of my blog: work, life, motivation, etc. You see, when I was sick, just yesterday in fact, I really couldn't do anything. I was too fucking sick. I just had no energy and no will to make anything happen. Creatively, I also wasn't getting any ideas, no good jams coming out, no desire to make any good jams, nothing. Here is the tricky thing: yesterday I was no longer physically feeling bad. Yesterday the sickness had yet to leave my brain. I was still locked in to "can't do shit" mode. But my body was telling me that it was time to start doing shit again. And so I went insane. Just ask molly.

more to the point: I love not doing shit! But I have to be more specific here: when I don't feel like doing anything, my favorite thing to do is do NOTHING! I realized when I was sick what my true destiny is: to be the son of rich parents. Then, I could loaf my ENTIRE life away! So, thanks mom and dad, for not allowing me to fulfill my destiny. All these years of carefully raising me, teaching me right from wrong... what you really should've been doing is making yourselves rich, so you could allow me to leech off of you (much much more than I already do).

I told molly that this is what I want to do with my life: nothing. I want to simply fuck around, fuck off, piddle paddle, this and that, all day every day for the rest of my life. she brought up a good point: that's what everyone wants. nobody wants to go to work. nobody wants to wake up. you're not unique.

but then something interesting happened today; I got my groove back. today I found that I had the ideas, energy, and drive to do a bunch of shit. and that's what I did, a shitload of stuff. and I realized that what I really want to do is work my ass off everyday for the rest of my life, and the best thing would be to work at something that I love, so everyday of work would be a "blessed" opportunity to bust my ass doing what I love.

what better feeling is there than getting a bunch of shit done? when you're in the mode and you're multi-tasking, checking off the boxes, knocking down the list. that's where it's at.

funny thing, huh? when you don't feel the drive, the only thing you want to do is nothing. when you feel the drive, the only thing you want to do is everything. at these two extremes, you become convinced of your life pursuit, your big goal. how can we possibly contain both of these worlds inside of us? and what's in the middle? It seems like the middle sucks. what are you gonna do--"some" stuff? fuck around "a little bit"? yeah right, that never works. these feeling are all or nothing. sometimes we do both at once, or we do one to get to the other. for example, I will take care of a bunch of shit on a given saturday night, wake up super early on sunday morning, bust my ass to get the hell out of las cruces, drive a long ways, lace up the hiking boots, then walk a super long, difficult trail so I can sit and stare at a rock, or a tree, or a "view" and DO FUCKING NOTHING. how weird is that? what the hell am I doing?

college was the same thing. this is supposed to be the place where we learn to manage our time. yeah right! I learned how to, 1. fuck off completely! and do nothing! and 2. get a shit load of stuff done. I would spend sun-wed getting high and watching my arm hair grow, playing radiohead chords, and surfing the internet, then thur-sat I would read 2 books, glaze-load-and-fire a huge kiln full of work, write 2 papers, go on a climbing trip, and clean the entire house... yeah, great time management. there's no balance. talk to ari about balance. that kid had a schedule. he knew when to get his shit done. he was running programs. he would write himself notes and ACTUALLY FOLLOW THEM! I write myself lists with one hand and pick my nose with the other.

this is life, work. there's some truth here. I can't really codify it, but I know it's in there somewhere.

exciting news

just kidding, there's no exciting news. hence, no blog. the blog started off when we first moved here, with enthusiasm and curiosity. it's easy to write stuff when you look around and see all these interesting things around you. that time has passed. I'm not sure what it is exactly, but things are different now. it seems that we have gone into survival mode. it's not that the jobs are terrible; we're not just punching the clock yet. and it's not that our friends suck; we have many good nights together with nice folks.

not sure what it is exactly. I think the desert has something to do with it. this is a barren landscape, uniform and delicate. for example, this weekend we drove from cruces to cloudcroft. this drive takes you northwest on hwy 70, the old main road before the freeway system came through to connect florida to california. the drive to cloudcroft is as dramatic as they come around here. you climb first up to the pass through the organs, a gentle slope between immense rock spires. achieving the pass, you are rewarded with a sweeping view of the tularosa basin, sight of the world's first atomic explosion (I can never not think of this fact everytime I come to the basin. put yourself in the same spot, rewind the clock 60 years, early morning. I'm not sure what type of warning they gave the local people, but I imagine it was minimal. so more than likely, if you found yourself anywhere near there around that time, you would've seen something inexplicable, monumental.)

so then you burn rubber through the basin, past white sands to alamogordo, where the next mountain range starts, the sacramentos. to get to cloudcroft you go through alamogordo (sprawling wasteland) and begin climbing into the sacramentos for about 30 miles upward. You are now entering your 3rd distinct ecosystem--alpine range--since you left cruces 90 minutes ago. really that is about as dramatic as it gets in southern new mexico. there are some more hairpin adventures to be had in the gila, but that place feels unique and separate. the drive to cloudcroft is more typical--sweep up and down a massive mountain range, speed accross a perfectly flat, perfectly straight desert expanse, and sweep up into the next mountain range.

in minnesota, this 90 minute journey would be peppered with small towns and farms, maybe a DQ here and there. in new mexico, there are no satellite towns. once you get to the top of the organ pass, you can see all the way to alamogordo, some 70 miles away. And there is nothing between here and there save for an isolated military installment (white sands) and an equally isolated national monument (also white sands). this is not a landscape that man can mold to his liking. the opposite in fact occurs. and I think the desert is starting to get inside me in strange ways. Joe Chavez recently moved out of our house to brooklyn. he writes and tells me that he can't stop thinking about the landscape around here--the desert.

it's hard to articulate what I'm trying to get at. it feels that my relationship to the desert is beyond language, something subconscious. here, in the real desert, not in the town, there are no trees, no water, and no seasons, just a slow burn and then a slow cool. life hangs on delicately, literally. you walk over to a mesquite bush that might be 25 years old and if you try to yank it out of the ground it will come easily. things can't put down deep roots here. that's how tumbleweeds are born. sure, the mesilla valley that runs along the river, north of cruces to el paso, can be quite lush with pecan trees, cotton fields and neat rows of chile plants. but this is lush in a relative sense.

when you walk around the woods in minnesota, it might often occur to you, 'this would be a nice spot to build a cabin. I could put a shed over there, a fire pit here, etc.' those thoughts don't occur here. we're guests in the desert; there's nothing here to sustain us. at the same time, this desolation has an undeniable magnetism.

... sorry there's not really an argument or thesis to any of this. just some ramblings on desert life from the view of a guero.

like I said, in the town, life continues normally. school is going well but I'm becoming increasingly disillusioned with the whole set up. for example my total student load for a day (I'm a full time teacher) is 22 students. right now I think teaching is pretty cool, but then I wonder if I had 35 students in each of 6 classes, what would be so cool about that? Even the small classes get kind of weird. I like to walk around and talk with the students about what they're working on. it gets kind of awkward when you're on your 4th lap around the classroom, half the kids just want to be sleeping or playing guitar hero, and the other half are quietly working on the same thing they were 10 minutes ago.

I'm gravitating towards an intensive year of ceramics production. there are several residencies offered throughout the country to people in exactly my position. I think if I continue with ceramics I could make some real breakthroughs. at the same time, I can't stop thinking about a life of foreign service. it's becoming increasingly obvious that america is in desperate need of intelligent people who have international experience and can speak chinese or arabic. I have none of those things, but it couldn't be more than 5 years away if I work at it.

lately we've been knitting. since joe moved out I've also renewed my interest in audio circuitry. I also commit about 1 jam every two days to the jam man (guitar work). of these, about 1 in 5 is decent. we've been watching twin peaks at night. excellent series, very strange and fun. kyle mclaughlin is simply a wizard. saw lars and the real girl last week, very funny/touching movie about a shy boy and a sex doll. listening to... grizzly bear, panda bear, animal collective, new radiohead, and sludge metal (boris, sunn o)))...).

you must check out this article by mark bittman, who is not a vegetarian. he has a video column in the times called, 'the minimalist,' where he prepares simple and quick recipes. in this article though, he makes a great case for reducing meat consumption. there are some startling figures in there, for example, if everyone in american cut their. meat consumption by 20% (seems simple) it would have the same effect on the environment as if everyone who drives switched from a camry to a prius. check it out.

or ivwar

happenings

this last weekend I ran in a foot race in the organs. it was called, and was at, the Baylor Pass Mountain Trail in the organs. I'd been training for 3 weeks with two friends--Joe Chavez, roomate, and Chris, americorps. we'd run the canal trails (read: sewage troughs) twice a week, getting to the point where we weren't dying too much. we also ran the actual baylor trail the week before the race. that was the second time I'd run it, the race being the third, and the trail is pretty brutal. it's not badwater or anything, meaning you can finish it pretty easily, but still a very difficult trail to sustain anything effort laden. the terrain is rocky, alternating between chossy up-stepping and slightly-upward to level switchbacking. from the cruces side (west side) it's 4 miles to the saddle, upon which the entire tularosa basin opens with views of the sweeping bowl of the east side organs and aguirre springs. truly spectacular and towering heights that well distract you from the descent which is equally perilous.

going up is all lungs and will; you have to find something managable and stick with it, trusting your lungs and heart to get you up. I've never yet truly run all the way to the top. race day is the closest I got to that but some parts are literally stepping up the equivalent of two stairs at a time on rocks and dust. going down after the saddle is almost no lungs at all, instead switching to legs and arms. all you really have to do on the down is keep your legs under you and strong, lest ye tumble. it's really fun bounding and leaping like a... human?

race day I placed 23rd in a field of 150-200, and 5th in my age bracket (100+). my time was 1hr.3min. hope to break the hour mark next year, but didn't really see anywhere to shave 3 minutes this year. I felt pretty light-headed and hot/cold upon finishing. deep breaths and gatorade helped me regain my composure. anyways running has been fun lately and simple to just run out the door.

also doing yoga for this month (paid $40 to go unlimited this month). the studio is within walking distance and it's nice to get out and stretch. I just think they lay on a lot of extra bullshit. it's like, "ok, now gently pull on your big toe and touch your nose to your knees. hold the stretch and find your razor's edge. also, feel free to invite the four elements into yourself, or just select elements to battle other select elements within you, for example fire could battle water, or puppy could battle robot. and release."

at the end you do shivasana or 'corpse pose,' which is literally laying on your back, palms up, for 15 minutes. not sure what I'm paying for there. teach is all like, "breath out, releasing mind body and spirit.' I's exhales... soul is gone. or is it? I can't stop thinking about world war hulk and if hulk is really gonna let mr. fantastic kill tony starks. yoga seems to be good for other things though, like when I bend over and it doesn't feel like my hamstrings are going to break.

everybody at school is looking forward to thanksgiving break and, then, end of semester. we all can't wait for it. wonder what that means? more about school later.

for thanksgiving it looks like we'll be joining joe chavez's family in belen, nm, which is about 25 min. south of albq. from there I hope we strike northward to chaco canyon, bisti and de-na-zin wilderness areas, and jemez springs.

then it's back to school for 3 weeks. we come to mn 15th--3rd. see you soon!


coming soon:

"legba tunes the strings"

music

I have been lucky enough lately to come accross some great music and 3 wonderful "rock" "concerts."

concerts (in chrono. order)

animal collective--

these guys played in el paso of all places, at a club called 101. it was a friday night and the club is a strip joint? by day. well, there were human cages and poles all over the place so I figure it maybe was something. animal collective is a band that I had not heard much of at all before the show. the only thing I was going off of was numerous mentions in pitchfork and my friend faith gave them wide acclaim. faith is good with that sort of stuff. really though there's not many shows that come through this part of the country. some go to pheenicks and denver and austin, but in between those points is a cultural wasteland (if you don't count dia de los muertos). so when a band comes through that I've heard of, however vaguely, I'll most likely go because I don't go to as many shows as I'd prefer or that I'm used to.

the set up at club 101 was pretty interesting. first off it was funny and interesting to see so many 20-something hipsters gathered in one place. they seem to be mostly few and far between round these parts. so the concert folk were good. the second thing is that they had a lineup of multiple opening acts rotating on the indoor main stage and an auxilary outdoor stage, so we got to shuffle back and forth and get a variety of acts as we let our first couple drinks settle.

animal collective came on at about 10:30. the group is composed of 3 males, with one on mainly vocals and few synths and a cymbal/bass drum, one guy on what seemed to be multiple drum samplers, and one guy on a crazy electronic sampler/synth/mixer. about half way through the first song, I was thinking 'this is pretty good, it's really loud and the sound is good so that's nice.' at that point a series of LED banks lit up super bright and the sound increased twofold and the bass kicked in and nearly knocked me on my ass. they maintained this new level of intensity throughout the show.

we migrated closer and closer to the front as the set went on and I have to say these guys definitely earned their $11 they got from me. each band member was freaking out for the entire show, with no lags in sound or movement. the drum guy had a headlamp on and that headlamp was looking like a firefly with restless leg syndrome. the lead singer was sweating and dancing and moving all about and the sampler man (panda) was with his eyes closed most of the show swaying back and forth. I realized that the only choice I had was to completely surrender to the loudness and rhythm or get out of the club. so I surrendered and was made whole by their funk. I don't recommend them for everyone, but I would recommend seeing them in concert.

sonic youth--

this band played for free in marfa, tx as part of the chinati/judd foundation open house. my expectations were quite high for this show and they were met or exceeded on all fronts.

the show took place at an indoor/outdoor concert hall/construction sight on the main drag through marfa. I think this building belongs to the thunderbird hotel but it was not yet finished. Molly and I were with many friends including dwyer, dorn, and several americorps girls. we were able to bring a cooler full of beer right into the venue which was nice. the opening band was pure industrial noise and they thankfully played for literally only 10 minutes then they left awkwardly. sonic youth took the stage soon after to an eruption of screaming.

the set leaned mostly on material from their latest, rather ripped, and their masterpiece, daydream nation. I was getting kind of annoyed with the crowd at first, but molly and dwyer were rocking out and I looked over and dorn was freaking with his shirt off so I figured everything was ok. I was completely spazzing and I kept feeling an elbow in my back which is concert-speak for "the guy behind me doesn't appreciate my freak dancing." well oh fucking well last time I checked sonic youth has never been to marfa (for fucking free) and also what's that again? oh yeah their the best fucking band on the planet right now besides radiohead and you shouldn't even compare the two. so whatever elbow man, I'm not hearing your elbow.

about half way through the show the crowd started to come around and by the end of the show everyone was completely losing it and sweating and moving and screaming. it's kind of religious to be at a show like that. the crowd noise, at some points, got to levels that I would not have expected. it's fun to get caught up in that.

highlights for me include everything. thurston soloed right into the crowd at one point with people clammering at his legs and ax. kim danced amongst hands and screaming of front row fans and lee had a big grin on the whole time. they played one of their faster songs which really got the crowd freaking and they dissolved that song into a 5 minute noise cool down with squelching feed back and free-jazz drums. literally 5 whole minutes of free form electric therapy of mutating string vibrations being fed through a series of modifications to achieve absolutely transcendent levels of feedback, at which point they bring it back slowly into the beat of the originally fast thrashing song and then lead back into full force for another two verses and chorus with everyone recharged by noise and freak ready once again. that was a moment to remember.

they played two encores, the second of which I'm sure they did not plan on playing but the crowd would not allow them to skip. they ended with a new, unknown song which sort of left us hanging and of course was perfect. we stood around like fools with our mouths open laughing and gaping for about 30 minutes after that show.

wilco

these guys played in minneapolis at the northrup, and I got tickets thanks to connoy. wilco is a really great band and they have produced some my favorite albums and songs ever. however, I had just seen sonic youth in marfa. there is a small number of people that understand what that means. in layman's terms, wilco didn't really have a chance of pleasing me that much. I would say they earned a B+, which is a bit of an insult grade coming from a teacher. a B+ is a grade you give a good student that you're disappointed in.

tweedy was kind of annoyed with people for not rocking out more, but then he follows up a snarky comment with jesus, etc. sorry, I don't know how to rock to that song. I love that song, but dont' put me on the spot to freak out about it. they have a lot of great songs that are pretty pedestrian. tweedy calls them, "midtempo," a phrase I knew he would drop at least once during the show.

what to say about wilco? they put on a better show than probably 85% of the bands I'll ever see, maybe. their sound is perfect, they have a complex instrumentation, they are spot on, they mix it up. but then again, it's all kind of contained or packaged and you feel the tension from tweedy. I think he's maybe a little sick of singing these songs, but he got himself into it. this theory might be proven by a rumor I heard from connoy: after the show, wilco quickly made their way to first ave. to watch spoon play their show. we should've done the same.

well that's all for now, I'm slowly trying to fill ya'll in on what's going on and I thought I'd start with this little music review. it didn't go as well as I'd hoped. I feel like I don't quite have my voice today, but it was a pretty annoying day at school so I feel like a square. either way, stay tuned blograds.