off to oregon.

tomorrow willis will embark to oregon.

first stop is bend. he hopes to do some good hound doggin' outdoorsin', like catching a sick flip-kick ollie off a 9-er breaker rock level 15 trail bmx-style. i've advised him to wear one of those shit-eating biker bonnets to keep his ears out of the gears, but he never listens. he'll probably just end up chasing a jack-rabbit.

i mentioned to him that maybe the hostel would not be dog friendly, and he responded by taking a dump up the street on the corner during our walk when i wasn't prepared with a refuse bag. showed me.

where the f**k is willis? -- installment ii.

willis has gone to look for america.

as to his whereabouts:

installment i -- 1) the vw 2) marfa 3) apache nat'l forest 4) alpine, az [he recommends elk] 5) a corner in winslow, az.

installment ii* -- 1) grand canyon 2) death valley 3) lone pine, ca 4) yosemite 5) the golden gate.

*pictures of willis in las vegas have been omitted per his request.

where the f**k is willis? -- installment i.

where's willis?

(answers to come in installment ii).

sxsw.

sxsw--this marvelous thing that comes to austin every spring--brings joy, frustration, hope, and loathing--as the descending mass of hipsters, scenesters, travelers, and wanderers infiltrate and addend a city already steeped in back-loaded, spinning, ironic youth. part glorious, part iniquitous--it might not be more than a fleeting microcosm exposing our daily commonality--but we love it regardless. it can leave us threadbare, but is usually worth the things we discover.

e.g.

the low anthem.

she and him.

oh no ono

miike snow.

brooklyn rider.

wakey wakey.

fyfe dangerfield.

paul banks. & the carousels.

.

bookpeople.

dave eggers was at bookpeople last night. it was cool.

"this is like--dude--i'm nervous--it's like, i'm trying to think of this musically--it's like, meeting, jeff tweedy or something, you know, dude? you know what i'm saying, right? like, dude, yeah. it's like--i don't even know. i'm like, freakin' out man. i need to use the restroom, but, aggghhh, duuuude..." -- paul banks

-------------

dave read from zeitoun and talked about that story for a bit. he also talked about 826 and austin bat cave, which is a joy to hear him get passionate about. he does good.

the q&a was fantastic--right out the gate with a firecracker of a young lady asking him about being such a young author and what advice did he have for young authors trying to make it. you could almost see dave physically recoil from the perceived verbal onslaught and sort of go--whoa--easy.

he went on to talk about not being that young, how he was not that young when he got his first work published, and to not be in a hurry. "it's writing--not, pro basketball, you know. though a lot of comparisons are regularly made between the two..." he spoke to needing some life experience before you have something to say--he told the girl to join the merchant marine. he was only half kidding.

next, someone brought up the panorama and asked why they don't keep it going. for himself and his staff, it was unsustainable, but he was pointing to the importance of print media and long-form journalism in print form. he only reads the newspaper. he needs a serene reading environment and likes to know his news is coming from someone who is employed to investigate and report the news to keep things accountable, etc. "give the guy a dollar, and he gives you the news--you know, a dollar." he does not have an internet connection at home..."i tried the high speed, super-thing for like 3 months, and it's like two clicks and you're on cat porn or something...doesn't work for me."

he encouraged people to ask relationship questions, and one woman asked about her partner not supporting her in her writing endeavors, and one of the opening readers told her something about projecting her feelings of self-doubt on her partner, etc. it was a burn--great audience reaction. dave agreed to call the woman's girlfriend and find out what was going on.

when someone asked about the motivation for adapting the wild things novel, he took exception, "you mean like, what a stupid idea, why would you do something like that? no? you didn't mean that? yeah--i heard it in there--i saw it behind those doughy eyes...it's always been a goal of mine to make a furry book."

he also said he was likely done with screenwriting. "it's not as fun to eat the sausage once you've been in the sausage factory." he would leave that to toph.

it was a good night. paul and i got some books signed by him. he said earlier in the night that he had recently been drawing mammals with epic slogans written across them, so i asked him if he could do an elephant--an animal we had brainstormed earlier in the night for paul's cover art.

"i've never done an elephant."

"yeah, we were thinking because, it's called 'secrets and lies' and elephants never forget and, you know..."

"yeah, and elephants lie a lot."

"right. exactly. so, would you like to sketch an elephant real quick?"

dave looks up blearily--going on 3 1/2 hours at this event--we being 4th from last in the signature line.

"no."

i laugh to myself thinking--surely i will be chastised somewhere in his forthcoming writings.

"but, if you contact me through mcsweeney's--you know how to do that right? it's easy enough--i will draw you an elephant and send it to you."

eureka.

(pictures/video to come)

24.

jack bauer is tv's brett favre.

we get it. you're still really good at evading death and catching bad guys. but shouldn't you have retired 4 seasons ago?

eggers in austin.

dave eggers is coming to austin.

book people on wednesday at 7:30. these are good things for our city.

http://bookpeople.indiebound.com/event/dave-eggers

here's eggers' talking on 826 valencia. inspired stuff.

http://www.ted.com/talks/dave_eggers_makes_his_ted_prize_wish_once_upon_a_school.html

info 210.

i pulled out my old copy of of info 210 notes from college today. mike hnatt--a hero. i thought perhaps these old notes could teach me something i missed 8 years ago, which was everything.

college is wasted on college students.

i had no idea what i was learning. what i should have been learning. what i needed to learn. this is why bill gates and steve jobs are who they are. they just did stuff. the average college student--me--learned to do just enough to get a degree. i am glad i still have this book though. i really only ever learned how to learn things--maybe now i can actually learn things.

everything that happens will happen after green bay.

here's me in five days.



after that, i will drive back to chicago in a rented car and stay until tuesday. maybe stop through madison. or milwaukee.

usually these places do not bring to mind major life change, turning point decision-making, or anything more than whether or not 'milwaukee's best' is indeed that and a marginally whimsical interest in what the dells might be like -- but true to form, this weekend will prove to be a fairly significant turning point.

i find myself at the end of my summer teaching term with no real solid full-time prospects in site and the starting day of school looming ever closer. beyond that, my only remaining roommate with whom i have grown very close with both personally and professionally, is taking an amazing job to work this gig in sonoma county and packing up to move out by the end of the month.

as such, i too will be looking for a new home. and work. easy enough to figure out in 2 1/2 weeks, right?

options are very day to day at this point, but of all things, the week i return from green bay, wisconsin will be one of the most telling of my young adult life.

i'm not even sure i know what to make of this.

i guess i could apply to a cheese factory while i'm up there.

wish me luck.

my fourth of july with explosions in the sky.

it started at a watering hole. or a swimming hole. honestly, i'm still not sure which one is which, or if there is a difference.

fourth of july is a holiday dear to my heart.

maybe it's that epic film from my youth, when i was half as old but twice as wise, independence day, where we learned about how humanity really can pull together long enough to entrust jeff goldblum to bug a hyper-sophisticated extra-terrestrial super computer and save us all from annihilation.

it's more likely though that my genuine affection for this holiday derives from the amalgam of antics that have occurred on it for so many years running now.

last year i found myself in nashville, being showered by firework ash on the bank of the cumberland river and then at a bar across from the grand ole opry.









before that, i had been dragged into a spontaneous road trip to florida where i used 1 burger king cup for the entire trip (getting refills at burger kings all along the way) and hit golf balls into the ocean, been in washington d.c. sharing a hotel room with a group of 14 practically perfect strangers, and at age 12 meeting a girl who would subsequently become my pen pal for the following 12 years, only to get married off to another, more proximate man, but not before teaching me it's ok to be a fool for blondes.

yes, the 4th and i, we have a bond. an agreement per se. i say to the 4th, do me a solid, and break this year in half in style. the 4th says, sure thing, but be prepared to suffer from two good months of meaningful weekend postpartum.

so here i now sit, the next most exciting event to look forward is a trip to green bay in august. that's not a typo -- i really wrote green bay.

this year was no exception to the traditional rule for me, as i embarked on a great day with great friends -- first at krause springs:



then to see the austin natives back playing their 10 year anniversary show at stubbs, explosions in the sky.



it was another experience to add to my 4th list that seems to lack anything too ephemeral. and i can appreciate that.

so adam beaugh bought a jet ski.

by Lorne Chan:



but that's only why this story begins.

The wreck happened about two weeks ago, and today Adam took it to a shop in New Braunfels to get it fixed.

Since he framed the blank check I wrote him instead of cashing it, I'm repaying Adam with a series of lunches. New Braunfels is about half an hour away from San Antonio, so it's not much of a distance to travel, one easily traversed by my guilt.

We decided to meet at Gristmill, a Gruene favorite. That would have been all if not for the fact that Allen Rogers realized he had a court date for a traffic ticket in San Marcos today, giving him the ability to join us for lunch.

Allen Rogers, who's become a bit of a quitter - I think Alicia Rainwater's quitacity is contagious to other WDEers -- decided midway through the drive that he wasn't going to be able to make it to both Gristmill and San Marcos. Quitting on Gristmill, we audibled to a BBQ joint in San Marcos.

Turns out Allen Rogers isn't a true quitter. While the kid's thing is his apathetic swagger, it veils his gumption.

Upon arrival, Rogers said, "let's still go to gristmill. for dinner. after we go to schlitterbahn."

Now Adam and I have full-time jobs, although nobody really considers mine to be a real job. Adam's thing is that he does a really goode job at stuff, and going to Schlitterbahn meant standing up a prominent but short-lived former member of the WDE. It took Adam Beaugh a moment to decide he was standing up said member, although he can get periodic updates. I let my boss know I wasn't coming back to the office after lunch in a 32 second conversation.

After Allen paid a fine and I served as his character witness, we went to Target and Old Navy outlet to get some board shorts and flip flops. While I unsuccesfully tried to play catch with a 3-year old at Target (my thing is childlike joy sometimes misconstrued as alcoholism), it led to this exchange.

Adam: "He doesn't want to play catch with a communist"
me: "Yeah, I would cut the ball up into a bunch of pieces."
Adam: "And it wouldn't work anymore."
Allen: "A big red ball was just the perfect analogy for communism."

***

Walking up to buy a ticket for Schlitterbahn is the second biggest racket in New Braunfels. There's always a way to get a discount, often on the side of a Dr. Pepper can. Walking up was going to cost us 43 dollars a person.

On the drive in, we noticed that everybody had the same idea to go to Schlitterbahn today. Apparently, it's hard to find a job this summer after three and a half semesters at Texas State. So you go to Schlitterbahn.

We decided on a much cheaper and just as enjoyable alternative of floating the Comal, although it meant encountering a few people with these. Ridiculously underprepared with our tallboys in plastic bags, whatever, we weren't going to turn back after coming this far. We weren't going to Alicia Rainwater it. Besides, it was 3:15 and Adam and I had already quit work for the day.

"Feeeeeeeeeeck," Allen said. "I forgot I have a conference call at four." Conference calls, like uncoordinated asians, are not waterproof.

Rogers got in the water anyway, hopping out after 20 minutes while Adam and I waited in the water and our beer quickly warmed. Not that our been was making it alive out of the first tube shoot anyway.

Luckily, since he was grossly unprepared and substantially unprofessional - he makes up for it with an apathetic swagger - Allen's conference call only lasted two minutes.

***

We lost four of 12 beers waiting for Allen and left behind five beers going through the first shoot. On the second shoot, I left behind a portion of my scalp.

On the second shoot of the Comal, there's a fun little course on the left where you go through a mini waterslide. Us oblivious professionals went to the right, where there's a waterfall that collects lost flip flops and souls.

Adam went first and flipped, Allen went second and flipped.

I will now place a disclaimer that while I have met most of you and hang out with Josh Rives, like, every day, for those of you who have not met me, I am a cartoon character.

I am an wispy, 5-foot-nothing 100-and nothing Canasian who attempts to overcompensate for his lack of any physical ability (except in the bedroom! hiyo! not really, i'm a virgin! but because I love Jesus and am waiting for marriage! or so he says! no seriously, that's why!) with witty writing that lacks subtlety.

As I went over this ridge, the current tossed me over like I was less human being and more a piece of debris. This also meant that the current sucked me back in.
I tumbled backward, my head nailing the rock while I did the slowest, least graceful underwater somesault possible. I'm no merman.

Emerging five seconds later, the first thing I heard was a stranger saying to me "dude, your head's bleeding."

I touched my head with my hand but couldn't see a thing other than a red hand. It was all blurry.

Oh right, my glasses were now somewhere by Atlantis at this point.

***

"What'd you lose?" asked a precocious 11-year old in snorkeling gear.

"My glasses. Prescription."

Immediately, he and three others dressed like him dove for the waterfall. These were no normal children. These were the princes of the ruthless lazy river.
The one who asked me what I lost turned out to be a modern-day Jules Verne. But he was still coming up empty. Each time he did, he returned above sea level with a deeper resolve.

His incredible ambition was only outmatched by ridiculous failure of buoyancy.
He came up for air and asked me a more specific question.
"What color?" "What brand?" "What shape?" this child was no Rainwater.

The breakthrough came when another kid came up with a pair of sunglasses. "show me where you found those," he questioned the kid, as if somewhere in the Comal river is a Lens Lagoon.

"explain how you fell," he said to me. "

As I went into elaborate detail, weaving a story that likely would have bored the WDE by now, I could feel his mind at work, eliminating possible quadrants. For Cody, this was no tube shoot. This was a high-pressure sudoku puzzle.

"I know where it is," he said.

45 seconds later, he had them in his left hand.
I gave him a hug and pulled out a wet five-dollar bill I had on me.
In my fit of nervousness and blunt force trauma, I offered the kid a much larger reward than five dollars.

"I'm an honest man," I said. "Give me some information and I'll get you more money."

"Don't worry about it," said a man standing behind me. You don't need to do that.
"I run these boys."

***

We happened to stumble upon the biggest racket in New Braunfels, a pimp named Andrew.
He and his cousin Jose send out these four boys to retrieve lost items while they collect the cash.

Child trafficking is a very serious thing. In no way do I endorse it.
But you have to admit, Andrew is a visionary in watersocks. He called his star child and the finder of my glasses Cody Banks because he "makes 100 bucks a day."

My sending more money, while he appreciated the gesture, was unnecessary.

a) it would be frowned upon for a grown man to mail money to an 11-year old boy as gratitude for his profession. his parents would ask a few questions.
b) pimps hate it when you cut out the middle man.
c) not tax-deductible.

I talked to them for another minute. Turns out he runs that spot and the boys are there every day. In the 10-15 minutes we were there, they collected a bunch of hats, sunglasses and flip flops. They did not find our beers or my dignity though.

***

We went back on our merry way, finishing up our river float.
We ate at Gristmill six hours later than scheduled, where Adam ate the two best entrees they had to offer and two waiters said to him in the same stunned tone,
"that's a lot of food." One of them also dropped an f-bomb and refused to racially profile me.

I'm going to go wash the blood out of my hair.

vinyl & wine -- installment I.

It’s a shame we make the same mistakes over and over again.

A few days after I completed my first sitting of Vinyl & Wine, a friend and I had a conversation in which we talked about how it is often difficult to broach a subject when we know the conversation could be tumultuous; though we are quite confident the end result will be positive. Yet each time the situation arises, we find ourselves backed against the same wall, sweating profusely, flustered by all the permutations of possibly negative outcomes.

We make other mistakes too. We create agendas when none are required. We use thirty words when ten will do. We say things we do not mean. We mean to say things we forget or cannot find the words for. We all too often find ourselves to be all too human.

Then we hear a song. We drink a glass of wine. We laugh with friends. We write letters to relatives. We run into old flames. We kindle fires with new ones. We hold hands with our spouses. We find ourselves a collective of unstoppable forces united in the enjoyment of the beauty of the things we are beholden to. We are simple in our complexities. We are flawless in our recurring error.

This is the beauty of Kris Kristofferson. A man whose words are so simple, yet capture so much depth of meaning. A classic, and yet sometimes forgotten songwriter; amongst the greatest of a generation.

In the Austin Sessions, Kristofferson even further explores the rapt emotion and what feels like effortless depth of the origins of some of his greatest works, and does so by creating more raw, stripped down versions while adding delicate harmonies to create fullness and balance.

It was only fitting then that I happened upon the selection of a rugged yet flavorful Spanish Rioja red named Ergo, from Martín Codax, to match up with this album, creating a blend as natural and raw as the components themselves.

The Rioja is named for its region in Spain and is made primarily from Tempranillo, a rich, black grape used to create full-bodied reds. Tempranillos are traditionally rich with berry and plum flavors with touches of tobacco, herb, leather, and vanilla. The tannins are evident, but not overwhelming.

Truly it seemed unspectacular at first; by no means a shock to the pallet. Yet as both the wine and the words set in, both began to absorb my mind in a specific way. The richness was subtle and had to be earned. It seemed such an appropriate parallel for Kristofferson; especially an older, stripped-down, humbler, and wiser version.

The real beauty of Kris Kristofferson is that he cannot be taken on contrivance. I think this is why it was so important that this blend of the Austin Sessions and Ergo was my first venture with Vinyl & Wine.

Vinyl & Wine is a daunting task. Both music and wine are so organic in their nature, but more than that, are capable of being so dynamic, beautiful, and haunting. Who am I to manufacture a scenario where I pontificate on how to match these together?

Yes, the concept seems great, and I am fairly certain what will come of it could create a positive experience for those partaking, but what about all those negative outcomes?

I suppose making wine or music either one is a microcosm of life in that way. So many things could go wrong in the process to make the outcome not quite as beautiful as you might hope. But then there is also that chance, just that slight chance, in which it could all go right.

As far as the review goes, this album is so full of masterful work, it is nearly impossible to break down all the poignant statements and evident parallels between Kristofferson’s song writing, vocals, accompaniments, and melodies to the rugged and steady flavors of this choice Rioja.

One moment of clarity did strike however, as I listened intently the album through. During Kristofferson’s duet with singer/songwriter Marc Cohn on Lovin’ Her Was Easier (Than Anything I’ll Ever Do Again), he sings of loving a woman in such a way that it was as effortless a thing as any man could do in life. In one line he sings, “dreamin’ was as easy as believin’ it was never gonna end”, and in that line, in that moment, I saw clearly the fusion of our love of life and imbibing and romanticism. It brought to mind Lady Brett Ashley, and Tracy Lord, or a young lady who to refuses to call you back during the day but only at night, after a flight of Spanish reds, to help her get her dress unbuttoned.

We fall for it every time – the same mistakes. But it keeps life interesting.



Kristofferson playing Austin City Limits.

marry me.

i missed st. vincent during sxsw. i did not make the same mistake again when she came to austin this weekend.

here is a little video i took of her set at waterloo.



she also played an amazing show at mohawk.

annie clark is her name. it might be a good idea to pay attention from now on.

a bonnaroo.

this past weekend was this summer's installment of the newly epic music festival bonnaroo. a lemony snickets left me unable to attend this festival which i otherwise had every intention of attending this year. well, i felt it was unfortunate at first.



the etymology, or at least the popularization, of the word bonnaroo is attributed to a new orleans blues/boogie woogie musician named dr. john, and is a sort of cajun slang for really good time.

so instead of trekking out to the middle of field, tennessee to see one of the greatest festival line-ups assembled in my youthful era, i was teaching reading in a sweltering classroom to the youth of central texas.

i have no regrets. here's why:

i was leading a discussion on the text we were reading, and though my students (high school age) were at first apprehensive to participate, possibly exposing their lack of utter coolness, the discussion really started to come alive, take shape, and open up deep lines of communication in the classroom. at one point, i called on a girl (who we will call nena), to participate in the discussion. nena has shown signs of dismay toward her obligation to be in the classroom since the minute she walked in, so naturally i am determined to get her to love being there.

after she responded disdainfully that she did not have an opinion, i moved on to another student. during the break, i asked to speak to her, and told her that i called on her because i was interested in what she had to say and that it did not matter if what she said was right or wrong, but that she was an interesting person and others would benefit from having heard her. amazingly, her facade of anger crumbled, and she became despondent. she confessed she was struggling with the material greatly and felt that she could not enjoy reading because it was too difficult for her.

having your mother enroll you in a class because she knows you need help is one thing. admitting out loud that you are insecure about your own lack of ability and are fearful of overcoming it is another. i feel like real progress was made in that moment.

i do not know whether nena will become a better reader after my class; if she will try harder or read more books or if school will become less of a citadel for her to conquer. i do not know if i will ever see her or hear from her again after she finishes my class on july 12th. i also do not know if i will ever forget that conversation. it was the moment i knew i was a teacher.

it would have been nice to camp out for four days amongst hippies and hipsters, use unsanitary personal refuse facilities, drink a case of dale's, see wilco play the lead-in twilight set for the boss, see mgmt and passion pit rock raucous crowds, or hear snoop dogg introduce phish; but i am sure i can hear about those things, read them on a blog or in a magazine, and think they are cool.

i am not sure, however, there would have ever been another moment in my life like the one nena and i shared. and i know that is cool.

the unpredictability of being edgar.

it's difficult to want to attempt to explain the last 2 1/2 months of my life, mostly because i can't quite explain it to myself.

a jerry maguire-esque treatise left me jobless exactly 1 year to the day after i started at my previous employer, and off i went on a steady course toward a life in education. i made my mind up, but i feel most of the time like i'm operating on a lotus exige with the tools to fix a daewoo leganza.

there's something to be said for patience though, which allegedly is a virtue, and something i've had trouble harnessing over the years. i got a job kicking it at kerbey lane (delicious) in the interim, and was going to make a summer of it, with a mix of fall job search and hitting the open road.

two weeks ago, i was looking for someone to take over my room at shadow valley cove for the summer as i had dedicated myself to the idea of domestic travel by auto, using a mix of friends couches and employment correspondence via remote internet access to make all my wildest dreams come true. and the very day i put those wheels in motion (pun incidental), i got a call from a reading institute about teaching in austin for the summer. the next day i had the job. who am i to turn down a summer of being paid to read and teach?

i threw out an ap on a total flyer from a craigslist ad because the ap consisted of talking about books and authors that i liked. i tried to resist, but much like abraham was compelled to take isaac up on a mountain with a scimitar, i could not be swayed not to fill out the application.

turns out the job should be just fine, and while my continental sojourn will have to be postponed until another day, i think this experience could take my teacher prospect rating from supplemental day 8 draft pick to at least the trade value of a 6th rounder and an undisclosed amount of cash.

i guess this would also be a good summer to brush up on my spanish, john stuart mill, and possibly sketch in a tablet i recently bought at HEB. i was thinking about finishing that screenplay alex and i started about 6 years ago, but honestly, i don't think it's marinaded long enough. better give it another 3 years at least before i take a look at the chicken-scratch notes penned in my spongebob notebook again.

at least i have fantasy football season to look forward to.

if life is really as short as they say, then why is the night so long?

i played an escapade

twenty six; it's the new twenty four

turning twenty-six feels like being a sophomore in high school again. there is nothing energizing, interesting, or significant about the birthday. you're not a mid-twenties neophyte anymore, but you're not quite an established adult either; especially when you haven't yet chosen a clear career and don't have any long term relationship prospects (i'm going strictly off what it seems like parents and/or other responsible adult types base being grown-up off of). i don't mean that to sound condescending, because, let's be honest, i'm not grown-up. if i were, i could support something besides my unlimited text message plan, and even that is becoming a struggle.

i like to think i've amassed some good experiences in my salad days, but it's more likely that i've really just amassed a substantive amount of debt and a lack of direction. the true american dream.

based on what i witnessed at some of these tea-bagger parties today, i'd say me and all 13 forthcoming generations of my family are pretty much boned and might as well just call it a day now. or wait, we're supposed to be patriots and stand up against tyranny and despotism or something. it's weird. all i know is, republicans have not been in power for like 15 minutes, and they're all losing their minds. i mean, at least let obama do something that appears stupid, like take an extended vacation right before the largest major attack ever calculated on u.s. soil or spend an entire budget surplus on funding a war and tax cuts for multi-billion dollar corporations, before we start having protests and riots in the streets. actually, i'd be interested to see where our infallible economic system would go if the government just decided not to do anything. i would venture to guess it would do something like take a bunch of bad assets and carve them up into fake securities with over-inflated values and sell them off all over the world spreading the misery of irresponsibility to everyone. i mean, let's be honest folks - we're all the ones responsible for the shit sandwich that we're having to eat right now. i'm pretty sure this economic crisis didn't start eighty five days ago.

anyway, who knows what got me going on that. i was really here to deprecate myself and my lack of any substantive direction at age twenty-six, but i guess it probably just makes me feel better to point out the short-comings of others.

but in all seriousness, i actually feel pretty good about the direction life is going right now. i'm in the full swing of looking for a teaching job for the upcoming fall, which is something that i've really wanted to pursue since graduating, but always seemed to find an excuse not to. i believe it will be a really good fit for me and open many doors for me and most importantly for the students i will be teaching. this is also really the first time since graduating that i have felt positive about pursuing a career that i could be passionate about that will lead me down a path i think i belong on. i am looking forward to the challenges that lie ahead.

bittersweet good-southby, pt. ii

picking up on friday morning, it's only appropriate that i dragged out this second post by so many days, as that's what getting up and going friday morning felt like. thursday was epic in a sense that though we called it a fairly early night by austin standards, it was a day that seemed like it would never end, and we never really wanted it to.



i like the above picture because it kind of captures lorne, roni, and i each in our most natural element of the weekend. it was also taken on saturday, so each of us had definitely built a healthy resume by this point of what our weekend m.o. was and we were comfortable in it.

friday morning was actually pretty unique for me, as i was asked by my friend samantha to come be in a little indie flick a couple of british guys named ed and jay were filming while in town for the week. i went and shot early in the morning around 8, which was good, because i was to be playing a skeezy prostitute solicitor coming out of a gas station bathroom who looked ragged and a bit hungover. let's just say i didn't have to go to make-up. i found out the guys were also following around a little band called viking moses! who oddly enough i had actually heard of. they told me he was playing at a monkeywrench books off north loop and 53rd st. at noon, so i went to check him out to start the day. pretty unique little sx experience, as i watched this guy wailing on an electric with a girl on keys with about 6 others in a bookstore no bigger than my kitchen.

then it was back into town where i met ronnie the bear and went to emos to catch the pains of being pure at heart. there was a healthy little buzz about these kids, and that's just what they were, and it was a nice, tight set considering listening to a band at emos inside is like being trapped inside the drum monitor. i had to find a place to sit afterward though, and the back porch seemed like as good an idea as any, where another band was playing. i didn't bother to write down who it was. besides, it was time to get to the levis/fader fort.

now, the thing about the fader fort is, well, a lot of things. see, what happens is, levis and fader magazine get together and this fort is built on east 5th street and they have all kinds of free and promotional stuff going on all day, every day, including tons of music, photo booths, merch, blogger lounge, and of course, free southern comfort and budweiser. all you can drink. of course. why not. why would you not serve free southern comfort and budweiser all day every day for four days to a bunch of crazy, young music fans from all over the world? naturally, this was the thing to do. all it took to gain access was a simple rsvp online days before the festivities and standing in an unnecessarily long line to pick up the wrist band, and you're in. this actually happens at sxsw a lot more than one might imagine is reasonable. at any rate, this location was a total success. after getting there around 4:00 to camp out for the impending free peter bjorn & john show later that evening, we caught a slew of reasonably talented musicians while enjoying friends and atmosphere. then pb&j came on, and all the world seemed right. of course they came out for the encore, and played a smashing rendition of young folks (this is from 2007 at mohawk. no 09 clips available). it was all in all another totally brilliant day.

saturday.

oh saturday. this is all i will say about the music on saturday. i saw these people in order at halcyon on a 2' tall stage standing 6' away from the artists.
the dashing suns
lou barlow
m. ward
will scheff

think about that. think about why those guys were playing a mid-saturday afternoon free showcase in a tiny coffee shop off 4th street. i know. i can't make sense of it either. but it was the perfect cap to an essentially perfect sxsw. it didn't even matter that we saw thao nguyen (who i developed an immediate crush on, let's just be honest) again and then later saw bun b, kanye west, and common. by then, it was just all icing.

really though, the main thing that made sxsw 2009 what it was, was the people. so many of our new york friends came down, put together the showcase paul played in, worked, and hung out. we had quote from nashville crashing with us for the week, where the poet matthew king taught me how to make a hookah bowl using an apple and some scotch tape. friends from houston, san diego, and dc, and made new friends with people from madison and manchester. we saw bands from portland, chicago, london, and jönköping, sweden. i unexpectedly ran into an old flame and gladly got to spend some quality time with a new one. we made new lifelong connections and played witness to art in creation. we sang and danced and drank merrily as the lord intended. it was so.



(the essence -- me, jules, & jesus)

bittersweet good-southby, pt. i

there is no way to know where to even begin to start thinking about what just happened.

i will attempt to recap a south by southwest experience in a more painless fashion than what my body experienced and still feels a solid 3 days removed from the final act.

sxsw in its fullness is a gargantuan task not to be taken on by the faint of heart. just when you think you've got time to rest and recover, you realize it's thursday morning, and it's time to get up and go stand in line again. in a way, it's like disney world for hipsters.

after bearing witness to 28 live shows, walking at least a marathon, standing for no less than 10 hours a day, housing musicians from nashville, industry friends from new york, and drinking my weight in free southern comfort, white russians, and pabst blue ribbon, all in the span of 4 days, i feel like it is safe to say i am now a sxsw veteran and part of some sort of elitist hip club where i get to talk in vague generalities about musical genius and the transcendent nature of independent craftsmanship.

but all that aside, i did see/hear some really outstanding acts and there were very few moments in the 4 days of euphoria/masochism where i was left feeling any version of disappointment.

i kicked off the week on monday morning standing in line at waterloo records for a limited give-away of tickets for a private decemberists w/ gomez show. i arrived around 8:40 am. after i reached the door to the store at 10:25, i was left 5 patrons short of a ticket. while i guess i should've felt really upset, instead i ended up making great friends with a guy from wisconsin and his girlfriend while standing in line. they were down for their first sxsw and i was able to give them a few pointers and then send them my email list of rsvp events to guide them on some cool places to go. also, i randomly ended up standing in line with a guy whom i worked with at club deville last year during the event who had been growing a recession beard, which was wildly out of control and horribly unattractive. but since when i originally met him he had pink hair hanging down in his face, i'm guessing attractive wasn't what he was going for.

wednesday: i brushed off the bad luck with the decemberists ticket and got out early to see a swedish band i first saw open for andrew bird at the paramount theater called 'loney dear'. their traditional scandinavian sound blends well a mix of jens lekman and sigur ros with a folksy undertone. i would catch them again at the flamingo cantina on thursday where they played an energized afternoon set.

wednesday afternoon brought a stage-front view (which would become a common theme for the week) of elvis perkins in dearland, one of my absolute favorites, at the mohawk party (click the link to see the black cab sessions blog with photo from show). afterward was akron family, a nice little hodge-podge of sound. that's enough for wednesday.

thursday: all i can say is, there was a choice to be made thursday morning between the paste magazine party at the radio room and the npr party at the parish; we chose the latter, and we chose wisely.

kick it off with a bag of swag and a few free pbr's then:

thao nguyen and the get down stay down -- gem of the week. my favorite new act.
blind pilot -- came highly recommended and did not disappoint.
blk jks -- system of a down meets tv on the radio and the roots.
k'naan -- where did this guy come from? answer: heaven. tears in our eyes.
the dirty projectors -- music from the future. no basis for comparison.
blitzen trapper -- sub pop band makes us feel good again and again.

emerging from the parish in the middle of the day after spending 5 hours in a dark theater listening to a brilliantly cast eclectic mix of superb musicianship was slightly less than desirable, but it led to more adventures like kebabilicious, a $5 cab ride and the cold war kids at auditorium shores. we then braved the walk back downtown to fado where we showed just in time to see paul banks and the carousels play the set of their life followed up by a nice little solo set by chicago artist joe pug. it had been a full day at that point, and time to get home, rehydrate, and get some sleep.

28 days hath february, all the rest have 31

almost in month three of two-thousand & nine, anno domini -- another beautiful austin, texas day. listening to sigur rós's Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust for the second time this weekend, four days into the lenten season, four days without a beer, a cigarette, or a cup of coffee. my sister found out i smoked the day before i quit, so i figured since she was the last family holdover, i can now talk openly about it. she had her suspicions anyway. to my nephews and possible future children -- don't even bother trying it. it's everything bad everyone has ever said it was with fifteen thousand times the side effects. after having gone four days without smoking, i'm positive that i could run a marathon tomorrow and hold my breath for thirteen years or something. sans coffee and beer as well, i'm also certain i'm just weeks away from scaling everest. or at least enchanted rock.

i got a text this morning that informed me via phil's twitter that his parents were in thailand. i thought that was cool. i wish i were phil's parents. if i found a genie lamp and he granted me three wishes, it would be one of them. if he granted me only one wish, i would wish for more wishes. everyone knows you have to do that.

life is funny -- i am 25 and the only non-married, non-parent amongst my siblings, and i'm the only one that owns a station wagon.

if you have read previous posts, you might have heard something about a short-lived vw passat that came into my life, and just as quickly left; but now i have incestuously renewed my familial ties to the volkswagen and gone with a white jetta wagon. it has a temperamental keyless entry pad, of which audrey, the girl who sold me the car, friend, and previous roommate, said, "i can't think of anything more fitting for you than a volkswagen wagon with a temperamental keypad". she's right.

and...song 7 crescendo...

peace & love.