It's all about meat today...

I don't know if it's the dreariness as winter drags on or what, but it seems like nobody is really updating right now, myself included. I've been going on with business as usual lately, but I haven't felt like saying too much about it lately. But it looks like nobody has.

For example, last time I posted I mentioned my new wet/dry vac, and plans for renovating my basement. The Blogger Me of just a few months ago could have rattled on ad nauseum about it, but instead I simply threw it out there and let it go.

I tried to write a longer post about the county treaurer from Alcona County who spent all of the county's money on a Nigerian email scam (link), but it fizzled out before it went anywhere.

It has to be the weather, but nothing has really made me feel like posting all that much. It's like it's gonna take another giant squid story to knock me out of this rut.

Fortunately, there was one today. In New Zealand, they caught a 33-footer, the first intact adult colossal squid (which is like the giant squid, but fatter) ever hauled in. As is the case with all giant (or colossal) squid stories, I was able to find the one important detail in the story for you: what it would be like to eat him.

Here's the "meat" of the story:

One expert said calamari rings made from it would be like tractor tyres.

Can you imagine a platter of calamari rings the size of tractor "tyres"? That would be awesome! That's British spelling, by the way. It's a BBC story (link).

When I was a kid, I read books about Bigfoot, Nessie and giant squid, hoping that we'd have serious proof of all of them. It still interests me. My mom still cuts out newspaper articles and mails them to me.

Over the years, the squid has become verifiable, though. So have I lost my sense of wonder? Has the squid lost some of its mystique?

Nope. I'll never lose my childlike sense of wonder for these guys.

Not until I get to eat one, anyway.

That goes for you too, Bigfoot.

So I hear things are big in Texas... even the music festivals

Dirty is done, and it was a definitely raunchy good time. We had a lot of fun, but I actually only took one photo (bad blogger! ).

It's a good one, though.

It's the fabulous Nicole, with Queen Bee (a good friend and one of Detroit's resident rockstars) and Julie (the isntructor/originator of Punk Fitness Detroit).

My big news now is that, next month, I'll be heading out to Austin for SXSW. SXSW music is five days, and literally hundreds of bands. Literally. Check out this list if you don't believe me.

I'm really excited about this, so much so that I turned down an invitation to a party at the British Embassy in New York. (No, that's not a lie. I have an invitation from the consulate and everything!)

Plus, I bought my very first wet/dry vacuum yesterday. That's some exciting grown up stuff, no? Look for some photos of my refinished basement, hopefully soon, but I have to refinish it first.

Living the Dirty Life

Once again, lax at posting. I don't really feel apologetic this time, though, and I'm not 100% sure why.

I've been living life a lot lately. This is surprising, due to the fact that we're also in the grips of an arctic blast right now that makes me not want to do much more than hibernate.

Somehow, as of late, I have managed to combine hibernation with some other stuff. There were some monster trucks.

And there was a "dinner" at Luna's house. I use dinner loosely, because while there was food (her husband, who I don't have a cutesy nickname for right now, is an excellent chef who had a spread of Spanish Tapas out for us), the festivities lasted until 8:30 the next morning.

Luna is a good friend that we lost touch with for a few years due to us all being young and dumb. I am really glad we're all friends again. She and Nicole are fabulaous together.

My one disappointment is that there were six of us, yet only 10 bottles of wine were consumed. We chould have done 12 easily, so some people weren't pulling their weight. I can honestly say it wasn't me, because I felt like a train had hit me the next day.

Speaking of The Fabulous Nicole , she is in the Dirty Show again this year (that link is NSFW). It opens again tonight, and is always a wicked raunchy good time. Pictures from last year (also somewhat NSFW) can be found here.

So we'll be spending much of the weekend getting dirty. Wish me luck.

Just some random junk…

The benefits of the iPod

I was just musing to myself on how much the iPod has really changed the way we use music. I think years from now, cultural history texts are really going to make note of that.

I used to go back and forth from home and the office with about 10-20 CDs with me, and never had something that matched my mood. Now, I have hundreds, and I can usually match my mood.

I blame it on a severe case of being a Gemini. I’m not moody, but I am fickle. I just pulled out my iPod, and I am currently flipping back and forth between Sonic Youth and I Object! That’s a wide range, and not albums I would have thought I’d be in the mood for this morning.

As far as new music goes, at Nicole’s insistence we bought Nirvana’s Nevermind this weekend. I never owned a CD copy of that record, just a cassette I played to death a long time ago. Goddamn that was (is) a great album! I miss them… and I unfortunately haven’t added that one to my Ipod yet, although I do have In Utero, and With The Lights Out, so I can get a fix.

Do you remember when they played on the MTV awards and Krist Novoselic knocked himself out with his bass? If you’ve not seen it, you must check it out. For those with short attention spans, it’s right near the end.



The benefits of wealth

My supply of Christmas socks is dwindling. I love new socks. If I were a millionaire, that would be my one rich man extravagence; I would put on a brand new pair of socks every day, and throw out the old ones. That would be my only eccentricity. The other things, like the vineyard, petting zoo, and monkeys trained to ride bicycles wouldn’t be eccentricities, they’d be necessities. There’s a difference, and once you figure it out, you’re free to come over to my house and pet the goats. Bring socks.

The benefits of super powers

As I was getting on the elevator at work the other day, I was watching the guy fill the ATM. There was a giant pile of money there, and it occurred to me that if I had super powers like Plasticman, I could shoot my hand across the hall and grab the money and yank it back in just as the door closed.

Then it occurred to me that if I did that, I’d become a supervillain, not a superhero. I didn’t like that.

You see, my powers can only be used for good.

Let’s consider the Wunderkammer.

The Wunderkammer, or Cabinet of Curiosities, was big in the Renaissance. It was, in essence, a cabinet containing a collection of things that people would be interested in. They weren’t always cabinets - sometimes they were whole rooms.

For the most part, they were the personal collections of the nobility, the academics, or the very wealthy. The average person had neither the space, nor the connections, nor the disposable income to acquire enough of a collection.

So what was in a Cabinet of Curiosities? Anything, really - anything that attempted to capture the wonder of the natural world, or of historical or religious significance. It also included personal art collections – paintings, sculptures and the like.

The biggest ones were primarily a collection of preserved animals and skeletons, fossils and other preserved things. At this early era of scientific exploration, the supernatural and mythological boundaries of science were vague, and many cabinets contained items such as “unicorn horns” and evidence of other supernatural beasties.

The cabinets as they once were don’t really exist; they’ve become museums. The nature of the collections have changed as well; they’ve been broken up, divided and sent to their respective “places”. The animals are now at the museums of natural history, the art is at the art museums and so it goes.

In general, it’s better for the common good. These collections are laid out, clearly labeled, and placed for the whole world to see. Still, I can’t help but think that some of the wonder has gone away. Is it time for the personal wunderkammer to make a comeback?


Your Assignment

Consider this: you are setting out to create your own cabinet of curiosities. It can be a cabinet, or a room in your house. It’s a place to assemble all the items of wonder that you’d like to show off to a visitor. This includes your personal collections, things you take pride in and things you think people should know about.

What would be in there?

Something Old, Something New

Friday night was an awesome visit out to A-squared to connect with a few very special people, known in this forum as Zilla and Writer Mom. We had a few drinks, and caught up a bit. (More on this meeting is here).

Saturday was on of those days that made me feel like I was in college again. We met up with a bunch of fellow Broncos at a local sports bar (the one a few doors down from the previously mentioned transvestite boutique) to have some beer and chicken wings, and to watch the Broncos play in their first bowl game for the first since the mid-1600s.

We watched the Broncos get beat down and have their asses handed to them, then watched them rally to bring it back to three-point game, only to blow it in the final seconds by missing the field goal that would have taken it to overtime.

After the game, several of us went back to our house for one of those lost Saturdays that were the norm in college. At that point, 9 hours of beer, pizza, video games and bonfires ensued. The day was thoroughly wasted; I can't think of a better way to do it.

Sunday was date day. The DIA was packed; it was the last day of the Annie Leibowitz exhibit, and tickets quickly sold out.


It was a beautiful exhibit of her photos of American musicians, including blues masters, country musicians, rappers, rockers, gospel singers and a few others thrown in.

Leibowitz has a knack for knowing the perfect picture; so many of her photos were taken before or after the actual shoot, when the moment was perfect. It was beautiful.

There was a room of Detroit musicians as well. There were unbelievably powerful pictures of Patti Smith, Iggy Pop, John Lee Hooker and a few more musicians with Detroit connections.


Then the show closed with the White Stripes. The photo didn't belong in the show at all. It was a goofy promotional photo from a Rolling Stone shoot I think. Whereas all her other images seemed to capture her subjects in private moments, when they were being themselves, this photo broke up the flow of the show. I can't help but think the folks at the DIA said, "Oh no, if you're doing this show, you simply must have a picture of the White Stripes!" It didn't fit, and it didn't belong.

After this thoroughly perfect weekend that made me feel all young and stuff, I had to wreck it by a.) smacking my hand of the dresser in the bedroom, messing up my wrist enough to wear an ace bandage for a few days, and b.) going to the dentist and finding out that an old filling has cracked and needs to be replaced with a crown.

I'm falling apart, and I don't feel as young today as I did this weekend.

The Accademia Treatment

(This was supposed to post Saturday... rather than work to update. I'm shooting it up now to buy time...)

In Florence, there are two primary galleries. The Uffizi, which I mentioned here, and the Accademia di Belle Arti Firenze. Both are known for lines that can stretch for hours, so we were encouraged to book our tickets in advance.

The guidebook gave me a number for a touchtone ticket reservation service in Italy. Due to the time difference, I got up at 7 in the A.M. and called the service first thing. After I made my way through the menus, I was transferred to an Italian customer service rep. The guide had assured me that the service was automated and in English. I hadn't spoken a single word to anyone yet that day, in any language, so the rep was greeted by my clearing my throat, and sleepily saying something that translates as "I would like... tickets... two tickets... museums... please thank you." She said something unintelligible, then there was hold music, and I was greeted by the voice of a cheerful British woman who took me through the process.

We were planning on a day of galleries, so the Accademia was booked for 8:30 AM, when it opened, and the Uffizi for noon.

We got to the Accademia at 8:15, and there was nobody there. We stood in front of the door until they opened it, and walked in.

We were treated to this:

Words can't describe how this statue is so massive and lifelike. The veins on the back of the hand, the muscles in the legs. Michelangelo was truly a master.

And we had it all to ourselves. Breakfast with David. We stood there for quite some time. Within a half hour, the place was packed, but for a few minutes, it belonged to just us.

We've taken to calling that the Accademia Treatment. On Sunday, we're going to the DIA for the Annie Leibowitz exhibit. I booked our tickets for right when the museum opens, hoping we'll get the Accademia Treatment again. Then, as we do on our museum date days, we'll go to a restaurant, get some food and a bottle of wine, and talk about art. Somewhere along the way, we'll solve the world's problems too. That's our system, and it seems to work.

Florence, As seen from Il Duomo

Florence, As seen from Il Duomo
Originally uploaded by alpharat.

Far away
This ship is taking me far away
Far away from the memories
Of the people who care if I live or die.
-Muse "Starlight"

That's one of my favorite songs right now (You can here it here), and while we were in Italy, that verse was absolutely perfect. Couple that with the fact that it was a song that popped up all over the place while we were there, and it becomes the theme for the trip.

Music bridges a lot of barriers. One day in Florence, we were wandering the streets (as we are prone to do whether or not we're on vacation; it's the Gypsy in me, I guess). It was a cool morning, and the Florence marathon was going on. We had just cheered on the leading hand cyclists as they roared by on the cobblestones, and ducked into a cafe for an espresso and a panini.

I stumbed my way through the order, starting with my traditional opening phrase, "Mi dispiace, parlo pochissimo di italiano." This is a very rough, grammatically incorrect way of saying, "I'm sorry, I only speak a little Italian." It always got the point across, though, and bought me patience from shopkeepers, concierges, deli workers and the like.

After we sat at the table (which costs more than standing at the bar, but is worth it when you're walking all day), "Starlight" came on the radio. I was absentmindedly singing along, relishing that verse, when I looked up and made eye contact with the barista. She was singing along as well. We smiled at one another, we were both Muse fans and music fans.

It takes all kinds...

It's even better than when I saw Jackass 2 on opening night... tonight I'm seeing it at the Brew and View!

I am more than slightly stoked about that one.

I am a big Johnny Knoxville fan, so much so I caught the Dukes of Hazard last night, and I am embarrassed to admit that I enjoyed it thoroughly - at least the car chases and crashes, which was a decent portion of the film. (Although, in my defense, I was running a fever and massively doped up on cold medicine. That may have played a major role.) There was a definite Blues Brother homage going on. If you happen to catch it, make sure to miss about the first hour, though. It's better that way.

I still haven't shaken the disease that wages war on my frail frame, but that won't stop me from attending the Brew and View tonight. No sir. It may limit my consumption of the brew portion, though. We'll see.

There's some weirdness going on in my town. I'm not referring to the car horn that mysteriously went off on my street for about 10 minutes last night, although that was rather annoying. No, I'm talking about the guy who may be going to prison for life because he likes to have sex with mannequins.

Ferndale is a very liberal town; we have a thriving art community, a large gay population (and a recently passed human rights ordinance preventing discrimination against said population), we even have a boutique for transvestites, right by the local sports bar. So, a guy with a thing for mannequins wouldn't normally cause too much of a stir.

This guy is looking at life imprisonment because he's too cheap to buy his own mannequins. He has a history of stealing other people's from their stores:

Dotson was arrested Oct. 9 after police say he smashed a window at a cleaning-supply company to get at a female mannequin dressed in a black and white French maid's uniform. He had been out of prison for less than a week.

Dotson was arrested in Ferndale in July 2000 and later convicted for breaking and entering at a women's clothing shop to get at a mannequin in a pink dress with bobbed hair.

Ferndale police also arrested Dotson in 1993 after finding him in an alley behind a woman's store with three lingerie-clad mannequins. He also has similar convictions in Detroit and suburban Oak Park. Story

It's too bad really. If the guy could have kept it on the down low, and purchased and partied with his own dummies, nobody would have known or cared. Instead he had to do this, and make a bad name for the many dummy-lovers who are probably out there, not hurting anyone, doing it quietly in the privacy of their own homes.

For the record, I am being proactive in case this incriminating photo shows up after I report on this story (and because ST hates it so much), this photo of ST and I with a mannequin is unrelated. She remains unmolested to the best of our knowledge...

Also, did you hear about the UFO that buzzed O'Hare? The FAA is dismissing that one, but I'm not so sure. Something was there, a bunch of people saw it. I don't know, what do you think? Could this explain lost luggage? Or the reasoning behind the fact that Delta Airlines charges you for drinks on their international flights!?!?! Take that, Delta, you cheap-asses!

Sorry, that's the cold medicine talking...

And because I'm feeling silly today, here are some silly signs from Italy...

Ummm... this guy is walking, not climbing...

Falling down the stairs area...

Run to the exit!

NO!

This one is... well you get it.

Heh heh, this one is just funny...

And, in case you're not sure what to do when you get in there...

Out with the cold, in with the flu...

How does that work? The way you start the New Year is the way you'll finish it?

I hope not.

Don't get me wrong, my New Year's celebration was very pleasant and very laid back. It took place at a cottage up north. There were loved ones around, a bit of bowling at a local dive down the street, followed by beer and champagne and hugs and kisses at midnight.

But it was also marred by illness. (Isn't "marred" a great word?)

Nicole was laid pretty low by a wicked cold, and I was just starting in that direction. It's really hitting me today.

So, here's to hoping that the rest of my year will be happy and healthy.

And I hope yours is, too…

And now, as I wax nostalgic for the joys of last year, a bit more Italy:

Trattoria ZaZa

As a rule, Nicole and I do not eat at the same place twice while on vacation. Trattoria ZaZa is the one exception we've made. Pasta with wild boar sauce, steak in truffle sauce, hearty peasant-style soups. It just had to be done twice.

And to eat outside in an ancient square, in November! Truly perfect.


Plus you couldn't beat our dining companions. Very friendly.

This guy was playing "Somewhere Over The Rainbow"…

Another wonderful experience in Florence was The Café' Perseo. It sat in the Piazza della Signoria.

This statue of Perseo (Perseus) beheading the Medusa sat across the way. Perseus is one of Nicole's all-time favorite classic heroes. Hence, "Clash of the Titans" is one of her all-time favorite moves.

Anyway, this square has so much history. It's where the original David stood (there's now a "fake David" there, the original is in the Academia). And this sculpture garden still stands there, with beautiful statues, like Perseus, and this one.


The musculature and the curves… it just amazes me.

This square is also where Savonarola was burned at the stake.

Savonarola was one of the worst villains in Italian history, in my opinion. He basically attempted to destroy the Renaissance, and was the primary force behind the Bonfire of the Vanities, which lead to the destruction of countless beautiful pieces of art.

Botticelli himself burned many of his own pieces. I don't know whether he was brainwashed by Savonarola's movement or simply wanted to ensure he had a future career painting "properly respectful" religious imagery, but it was emblematic of this dark period in Italian history.

And as we sat in the Café Perseo, drinking a bottle of wine, taking all of this in, we occasionally would look over to where a simple plaque in the cobblestones shows where he was publicly executed, and say "Take that, Savonarola."

It's interesting, to know that there always have been, and always will be, religious zealots who want to inflict their own personal crusade upon everyone else's lives, whether it be bans on art or finding other ways to subject people to their own personal moralities, no matter how distorted, displaced or downright sick they may be.

And yes, if I was a bit vague, I was referring to our present government there. I do believe that, allowed to run unchecked, Dubya and his Evangelical buddies would have no qualms about a modern day bonfire of the vanities. Although in addition to your personal secular works of art, you'd also see your rights to privacy and reproductive freedoms burnt in the piazza, as well as many other things you consider inalienable rights.

But I digress. I'm good at that.

On another digression, Nicole and I signed up for Iceman again this year. Registration only opened yesterday, and yesterday afternoon, when I went to sign up, there were already 1,000 people registered. As of 6:30 pm today, 1,990 are registered; it will be full in moments now.

The first year I did Iceman, it didn't fill up until May. So, suffice it to say it's popularity is increasing.

Sorry I'm late - I was finding religion

It's hard, taking a month off from the blog and then trying to slip back in without saying anything. I could try, but it's like taking a 2-hour lunch from work and then attempting to slide back into your chair without saying anything. People notice, even if they don't say anything.

Part of me wants to declare anecdotal bankruptcy; simply avoiding mentioning any of the events that have transpired in my absence, and just starting fresh.

But so much has happened.

I went to Italy, my brother got married, James Brown died, Christmas happened. So much…

Italy was beautiful, and I owe some anecdotal information to everyone on that trip.
Do I just try to slip it in as I go?

If so, I'll start with this.

In Florence, at the Uffizi, I stood, transfixed for 20 minutes, just staring at a painting. It was the most beautiful painting I believe I've ever seen. It was this:

This is the most beautiful Madonna I've ever seen, and the painting just sings of perfection to me. It gets even better when you know the story behind it.

Fra Fillipo Lippi was a monk. He fell in love with a nun. They eventually left the order to get married.

She was the model for this painting. His love for her and for the Virgin Mother meld so beautifully. And the cherub who's looking at you just draws you into the moment. He invites you to share it, to adore the Virgin and child. It's not a private moment, you've been beckoned.

It's enough to make one religious.

Speaking of religious experiences, I had another in Venice. Venice is a beautiful city, but it thrives on decadence. So much so that the decadence isn't seedy, it just is part of the Venetian experience.

It's the perfect place to party with the green fairy.

Absinthe is illegal in the states, and for good reason. Apparently, regular consumption leads one into mental illness. I can believe it, just drinking it...

In reality that's superstition; it's simply a very potent, very smooth liqueur. It's too strong to go down as easy as it does, and it can get you in trouble very quickly.

And this is what the bottle of absinthe looked like after we'd finished it.

It makes your body feel like it's been wrapped in cotton, and like your fingers are big fat sausages. While it's nice at the time, it also makes you very groggy the next day...

There we go, it's a beginning anyway. It's getting back into thew swing of things.

Buon Giorno!

italy 082
Originally uploaded by alpharat.

I'm back safe. There's much to attend to, but I hope to let you know all about the trip very soon...

Time to start packing...

New luggage is never broken in until a cat has slept in it.

That's not trick photography, by the way. She is that evil.

Tuesday morning, we leave for Rome... so much to do, so much to do!

I will try and put together some sort of pre-trip post, but I am way to excited and busy right now, so this may be it for now kids.

Ciao!

The State Of Things In Ferndale

I voted.

Did you?

If not, it's too late, so never mind.

Most everything I wanted went my way on the ballot this time, so it was a nice change from previous elections. While I don't want to delve too much into the political realm, I wanted to babble on about a couple things.

Where I vote, there are two precincts that have their polls in the same room. They each have their separate tables to sign in and voting booths. This is fine, or it would be, except that nobody in one precinct appears to vote, and everybody in the other one does. Unfortunately, mine is the one where everyone is more politically active. This is a good thing for the democratic process, but in my personal realm, it translates into me standing in a long line waiting to vote, while on the other side of the room are a half-dozen empty booths that are reserved for the other precinct.

Also, isn't it somewhat important to know what you're voting on before you get to the polls? By this, I am referring to the people that sat in the voting booth for 20-30 minutes while I waited. Was it the first time they had seen a ballot? Had they never heard the issues before? Were they teaching themselves to read? I don't know, but I do know it took me like 60-90 seconds to vote.

Here in Ferndale, where I live, we had a local ordinance on the ballot that passed. I am very happy about this. It's a human rights ordinance that basically makes it illegal to harass people in the city based on their sexual orientation.

I don't know that I've said much about Ferndale here, but if you don't know where Ferndale is, we're a smaller city on the other side of Eight Mile from Detroit. And we're a city with a large gay population. It's surprising that this act took three times to pass here, but now that it has passed, it's a good sign that Ferndale will continue to be the open, diverse community we saw when we moved here. Plus, maybe my inbred, white-trash neighbors will finally move (Segue, my neighbors could give yours a run for their money)!

The nice thing about living it that city that's known for having a large gay population is that it means interesting people move into your neighborhood. Ferndale attracts musicians, artists and cool independent businesses and restaurants. It's a great place to be... again, aside from my neighbors, but that's neither here nor there.

Yarr... More Rum...

I think last year I had mentioned that I didn't want Halloween to end. I have an idea that could help. At least once a month, I propose going to a bar dressed as a pirate. You don't see enough pirates in bars these days...

Ice Man and work, work, work...

I'm still dealing with the newness of the new job, but I'm loving it! It does bite into my blogging, though, and forces me to post less frequently, with multiple posts at a time...

Another Ice Man has come and gone...

It was the coldest one I've ridden yet, but once again, we all finished. Barely. Nicole limped (can you limp on a bike?) across the finish line with a sprained knee, cracked rib, dented helmet, minorly concussed melon, a leg that had been transformed into one giant bruise and a pair of racing tights that were stiff with dried blood.

She hit some sand and endoed straight into a faceplant five miles into the trail. For those of you playing along at home, that means that once she climbed back on, she had a 23-mile death march to endure in order to finish. Finish she did. That is (and pardon my Italian, but I am practicing for my trip) fucking hardcore.


We sucked down a couple beers at the finish line, then went back to the hotel for a soak in the hot tub, where we were greeted by a twelver of Bell's Oberon, the official beer of summer for the whole world (and if you live in a part of the world without Oberon, that means you live in a part of the world without summer and it really sucks to be you), courtesy of Writer Mom and Zilla. They weren't there, and thus missed out, because had they been there when I found that cold happiness waiting, they would have both gotten a kiss - full on the lips. As it was, they only got hugs when I met them the next day.

All the Angry Monkeys were pretty beat down that night, especially our cheering crew, who'd been enduring the grueling challenge of standing and cheering us on while nursing hangovers. It kept the revelry to a dull chaos, and there were no needs to call Zilla for bail money as she had offered. We barely made it away from the hotel, although we did wander far enough out for a certain member of the Angry Monkeys to kick a stray pumpkin in a rather aggressive manner. You know who you are...

We didn't even manage to get thrown out of a restaurant or bar, although it was touch and go at our pre-race carbload the night before. Apparently not everyone who goes to nice restaurants considers graphic descriptions of various items that will not be repeated here to be appropriate dinner conversation, especially when it's being done loudly by a large boisterous group of people already gaining the effects of pre-race adrenaline. Oh well, I just don't get people sometimes.

The morning after the race consisted of breakfast with Zilla and brief meeting with Writer Mom, Dr. Tom (Dental Dad, but Dr. Tom is so official-sounding!), and the legendary Jack and Pickles. Forget what you read, everyone is better in person than their respective sites would have you believe, and we are making plans for a more extended meeting. Zilla has even offered up a place for couch surfing.

As this season draws to a close, I want to congratulate all of the Angry Monkeys who put in the miles this year, and thank out support team for cheering us on, and making sure that the beer and warm dry clothes were there for us. There was no better feeling than dropping over the hill that leads to the 17-mile checkpoint and seeing your screaming faces holding the Angry Monkey banner, and seeing your grinning mugs at the finish line as you simultaneously peeled me off my bike and handed me a beer.


You guys rock.

GO GO ANGRY MONKEY!

Next year, I'm thinking about riding Iceman on one of these.

Seven Is Magic.

Seven is magic.

There are seven ages of man.

There are seven seas.

There are seven deadly sins.

There are seven wonders of the world.

If you look here, there is an essay that calls out many more significant sevens, including the superstitious idea "In Iranian folklore the cat has seven, not nine, lives."

No matter what you believe, seven shows up in too many ways and forms to not be significant.

Seven is also the age of my marriage today. It's apparently the "wool anniversary", but we are treating it instead as the "pasta anniversary". We have reservations at Mario's tonight. It's easy to get last-minute reservations in Detroit on my anniversary, due to the whole "Devil's Night" paranoia that grips the suburban dwellers on this night. It's unfounded anymore; Devil's Night is more or less nonexistent in the city. That arsonists seem to have moved to Highland Park, a small suburb that has all of the blight of Detroit in a smaller area.

Reservations will probably be easier to get in the light of recent events in the news. Today, Detroit was named the second-most dangerous city in the U.S. We came in second to St. Louis. That's two second place finishes to St. Louis in one week! Always the bridesmaid...

Yarrrr! It was mutiny!
Originally uploaded by alpharat.

So Happy Anniversary to me! And thanks to Nicole for putting up with me all this time... here she is at our pirate-themed Halloween party this weekend, suffering the effects of a recent mutiny...

World Series and Herds Of Ponies

I have tried to get this post up for a while, but every time I try, it gets delayed to where it's out of date, so I am just going to stream-of-consciousness it up here and go with it:

I was going to begin this post by apologizing again for not posting in a while, but:

A. I think you're all a bit used to that by now, and…

2. I just read this post where they compiled a bunch of posts of people doing the same thing, apologizing. (That 2 may or may not have been intentional, but I'm not apologizing if it was. I won't apologize for anything today.)

Things are whirlwinding right now. Two weeks ago, I was in Chicago. It was a blur of a weekend, and rather eventful and non- at the same time. I saw a lot of great old friends, drank a lot of wine, and even sat on the banks of a river, drinking Jager Bombs and watching beavers swim by at 4 AM (which prompted a phone call to ST, a phone call that I am not apologizing for today).

I like my new job a lot, as much as anyone can like a job. It may simply be the honeymoon phase, but I feel valued here, and while I may not be curing cancer, I am doing some things that are mildly important.

The World Series is off and running. How 'bout them Tigers? They may be down a game, but I think this is a series that will go back and forth.

It's exciting when we can get something like this in Detroit, just to get the city going and to pump some cash down there, but I'm done hoping this will be Detroit's big break. It seems like however many big breaks we give this city, they go nowhere. Casinos, new ballpark, new football stadium, All-star game, Superbowl, countless hockey and basketball championships, now a World Series… and then things will go back to normal, back to Detroit's quiet decay.

I just read this stat: in 1984, the last time the Tigers were in the series, Detroit's population was 1.1 million and climbing. Today? 868,000 and falling.

Why is that? Well there are a million reasons, but here's another then vs. now stat: in 1984, GM had 44% of the US market share, and today it's 24.7%. That's one big reason there.

I work downtown now. I work in a big building that was designed by Albert Kahn. His work is a decent example of what's going on in Detroit.

Kahn was a prolific builder, designing well over 1,000 buildings in his lifetime, many in Detroit. He designed buildings and factories, including the Packard Plant, the Donovan building (which housed Motown Records) and the amazing Belle Isle Aquarium. He's famous in architectural circles, has around 60 buildings listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and people travel far and wide to see his work.
In Detroit, many of his buildings have been allowed to fall into disrepair, until they can't be fixed. The lucky ones are then condemned and demolished. The unlucky ones are just condemned and allowed to become silent hulks. Detroit - home of the vacant skyscrapers.

That being said, I do love this city, and I love working downtown. It has vitality still, but it's sick, and getting sicker. Hopefully somebody can find a cure before it dies.

Now that I've become thoroughly depressing, I do have some good news. Monday at St. Andrew's was the BoDog Music Million Dollar Battle Of The Bands, and although I had no idea who was playing Iwent, because I was asked to be a guest judge. It was pretty cool, plus I got some free drinks out of it. There are A LOT of awful bands out there, but I do think just about all of the bands that deserved it made it to the next round, especially In Erupt, a heavy group from Kentucky, who drove eight hours to do the show, and witnessed a knife fight when they got here. Welcome to Detroit. They were very talented and very friendly. I wish them luck.

Also, why does blogger seem to be getting less and less reliable about uploading photos?

Plus, once I again, I am getting so excited about the impending trip to Italy. Wow, Nicole's birthday in Italia? Last year was Paris, are we entering a dangerous upward spiral of birthday expectations? In a few years, I'll have to buy her an island with its own herd of ponies. Either that, or renting a roller rink for the afternoon. Either way, once I hit those two, I'll be tapped out of ideas.

And Now The News...

Blah Blah Blah... The Tigers are on a roll... World Series might be coming to Detroit... Some stuff happened... It snowed yesterday and it's frickin' cold out... Then some other stuff happened...

Fuck it all. I quit my job today!

Here it is, in better words than I could come up with:



I guess it doesn't matter anymore... I'm outta here, and I'm going to Chicago for the weekend.

Once More, Can We Say That Punk Cabaret Is Freedom?!?!

Currently, I'm laid up with a serious case of Short-Timer's Disease. For those of you who are unaware, it's a condition similar to LRB (Lazy Rat Bastard) Syndrome, but it's a bit rarer, as it only afflicts those who have posted their notice at their place of employment. Symptoms include lethargy, apathy and a distorted sense of perception in which time appears to travel slowly.

At any rate, while researching ways to combat they symptoms of Short-Timer's, I stumbled on this pretty little video from some of my favorite musicans and showmen, The Dresden Dolls. I love these guys, and I hope you do too.



They write the best songs and look great while they do it, no?

BTW, some of this was shot here in Detroit.

A Little One

This is Thumbelina. She's little. I like her very much.

I think many things are better when they are little versions of the big thing, don't you?

Some things aren't for sure, like drinks, burritos and monster trucks, but in this case, I definitely think she's awesome.

How Low Can You Go? The Pope Knows!

I wasn't really intending on writing another post on a heavy item. That's usually not what I'm about here. But you have to go with what strikes your mood, I guess.

What happens when you die? That's one of the heaviest questions of all. Some would have you believe you simply cease to be. Some believe that the good guys go up and the bad guys go down.

Viewing that as too simplistic, and trying to justify the existence of their bureaucracy, the Vatican like any good corporation sought to break it down even further. They added Purgatory and Limbo.

Purgatory was named in 1254. It's the place where you go if you weren't that bad, and you weren't that good. It's a halfway house and a waiting room. It's where you go to take care of the bad things you did and finish up the paperwork. If you subscribe to this view, it's where most of us will end up for a while.

Limbo is an odder place. Limbo is essentially a place where good people went who didn't get into Heaven. The reasons why they end up there are multiple, but mainly limbo is a place for babies who died without being baptized, and those who lived and died before Jesus came to wash away sin. Babies and caveman, swirling through space. It's not a bad place, they say, although I can't imagine a space predominantly filled with infants and cavemen is all that organized, either.

The new Pope is discussing abolishing Limbo. That would be nice, then the babies and cavemen can go to Heaven.

It would be nice to have the power to simply make a place like that go away. It makes me wonder what other powers he has. Could he abolish Hell, then? Should he? And what about Ohio?

Maybe I'll see if I can ask him when I'm in Rome next month.

What About The Bad Guys?

The prison system is an odd thing to me; I mean, I understand the need to take the bad guys and lock them up where they can't do bad things anymore, but then they just keep them there for a while (based on the bad thing they did) and then dump them back onto the street, where they do more bad things. Rinse and repeat as necessary.

The point of this post is not to get too deep on the nature of the prison system; I don't really know enough to get into that, but it doesn't seem like there really is any emphasis on making the person NOT do bad things any more. If anything, they seem to come out worse than they did before.

Is this revenge or is it reform?
I don't know but it shouldn't be the norm.
-I Object, "Intra Muros"

(If you've not heard I Object, you should really check them out. Serious hardcore band with a pissed off singer and really positive lyrics about all sorts of social issues. Anyway...)

Here in Detroit, it's not uncommon to see prison work crews in the city. In the summer, they're cleaning trash along the freeway. In the winter, they shovel snow - a necessity since a previous mayor sold off many of the city's snow plows without telling anyone (it wasn't discovered until a major snowstorm during a subsequent mayor's administration that the city had no snow plows and was too broke to get more).

Prisoners in the U.S. make license plates and pick up trash until they are released for the period of time needed to commit another crime and get put back in the system. It just doesn't seem like the best model for rehabilitation, does it?

In Australia, they're training prisoners to replace Steve Irwin. The Darwin Correction Centre is teaching inmates to "deal with crocodiles, repair crocodile fences, build enclosures and write reports." Aside from the report writing thing (then again, what job doesn't have paperwork?), that sounds like a sweet deal. Good luck finding someone around here to teach you to be a croc handler on the corporate dime! It's hard enough to get a student loan.

Australia has always been ahead of the game on the care and feeding of criminals; it's how they got their start, so it's no surprise that they'd still be ahead of us. But the whole idea of teaching prisoners a skill that's actually useful when they get out isn't a bad idea, but what is there to teach the American inmate? We don't have any crocs (although if we did, I might jaywalk or spit on the sidewalk a few times just to get in that program), so what is there? Sure, I know you're thinking that clownpunching is a great idea, and while I agree wholeheartedly, how would they make a living doing that when so many people are willing to walk around punching clowns and kicking mimes for free?

I can't think of any other job that could work that isn't run by an organized labor force. What are your thoughts.

Then again, maybe Australia isn't onto such a good idea. What happens when an organized force of hardened criminals goes on a crime spree supported by a brute squad composed of trained crocodiles? They'd be nearly unstoppable.

Is it time for another Australia? A prison colony where we could send the really bad guys and force them to forge their own lives? If so, where? Granted, we could fence off Wyoming, but that's a lot of chainlink to patrol.

An island would be the best solution. In Guatemala, there was a prison that was run by the inmates for more than 10 years. They produced drugs, lived in homes with luxury goods, and had stores and restaurants. The perimeter was patrolled by guards, but the inmates ran the inside. The only problem was that prisoners lived in luxury conditions and used cell phones to control criminal empires from within. Security forces took control of that prison last week.

I don't know of any islands big enough to be the next Australia, and I doubt the Australians would like to move so we can start over. Do we send the prisoners to space? That's probably too expensive.

So what's left? Where do we put the bad guys when there's no more room?

Just Playing Catch Up...

It's been a bit of a whirlwind of ups and downs lately. I keep putting off writing about them, but if I wait too long, they pile up and I can either opt to forget about them or cram them all into one post. Which is what I'm going to do now.

Mazzola and Hank III

This is Mazzola (eating the Kitty Shoe). He is a very old friend. Nicole has known him since high school and was a part of our wedding party. He lives in Chicago now, where he;s the drummer for Piel Plastica, an excellent band that was kind enough to drive out to Detroit to play the breast cancer benefit for free.

He is also a talented sound guy who tours with bands, which lead to him calling us on Saturday. He was at the Machine Shop in Flint, an hour from us, because he was on the tour with Hank Williams III. Did we want to meet up? Definitely.

Oh my God.

Hank III rules.

Seriously.

The guy played for three hours. He started his set with country (real country, the kind his grandfather played, not the watered down music of his dad), then went into hellbilly rock, and closed the set with a hour's worth of balls-out heavy metal.

It was tremendously sweet.

New Boots And New Contracts

Simply put, I quit my day job (not the about.com gig) and got a new one. I think I'll like it much better. I don't think I can say more.

Belissimo!

It looks like Nicole and I will be spending a week around Thanksgiving vagabonding across Italy. I have not started my Italian lessons yet, so I'm just hoping to be able to competently order a bottle of vino. Anything else is details...

Speaking of Vino...

If you're a beer drinker, you might want to think about switching. About a month ago, I wrote about a malting barley shortage in Europe, and the possibility of beer shortages and/or rising prices.

The situation has gotten worse. A warehouse fire in Yakima, Washington just destroyed 4% of the nation's supply of hops. This, I believe, is a conspiracy to get rid of good beer. My favorite beers are very hoppy, but a spokesman shrugged it off:

"I'd be surprised if there were any impact, because hops are a minor component in beer, and 4 percent is not an incredible percentage of the whole hops supply," said Ray Daniels, a director for the Brewers Association, a Boulder, Colo., trade group.

Sure, if you don't mind making fewer hoppy beers, and forcing everyone to drink Coors Light.

There, you've all been brought up to speed as succinctly as possible. Ciao!