October 30, 2009

Friday's quick thoughts

Who doesn't want to read about typography? Oh...most of you? Oh. Go here anyway. It's McSweeney's. You'll feel cultured.

When the police officer was inspecting the apartment after the felonius punk stole our stuff (I have to admit, I like the moniker), he swabbed Greg's and my cheek to get a DNA sample. Then he took samples from palm prints on our sliding glass doors...this all happened at 4ish in the morning, of course. The lesson here? Now I'm on the books, and can't commit all of these crimes. Also I don't have a piano anymore.

Best time to be born? Well, without getting too specific, 5:30ish AM, late January in the mid 1980s. Wait, what? A bleaker life outlook? Oh man...

October 29, 2009

I'm...loving it?

I don't go to McDonald's often, if at all. Sometimes being on the road for the job reduces one's options so drastically that it is hard to avoid...but even if I don't particularly care for Big Macs (or Big Mac), I do enjoy this map of the nation's McDonald's franchises.

Just to be clear, my dislike/hatred of Mark McGwire stems almost entirely from his association with the St. Louis Cardinals. I do not care at all about any of his methods for enhancing his baseball production - everybody involved profited from the home run race...except Steve Trachsel. No, Mark McGwire is terrible purely because he 1. was a Cardinal. 2. is a ginger. and 3. obnoxiously threw his bat after all of his stupid homeruns.






October 28, 2009

To A Rich Benefactor

Returning from a Common Swift gig in Kenosha on the night of September 26th, I discovered my apartment had been entered and burgled. At first, I thought that Greg's dog Lucy had just gotten rambunctious and overturned the couch cushions, but it quickly became clear that she couldn't have done the same to my clothes dresser...and with her amusingly large paws, I can't imagine that she'd find a lot of value in taking two of Greg's laptops and my keyboard. That's right - for the first time since birth, there is no piano in my house.

(On a side note, my old roommate Mike Schroeder has described the burglar as "Felonious Punk" - I had asked who steals a piano. He is a sick man.)

It's become clear over the last month that I can't go too much longer without some form of piano - I've been on the road doing archaeology the last three weeks, which minimizes the loss somewhat, but more and more often I've been getting a quick urge to play something. It usually takes 2-3 seconds before I remember that all I have is a piano bench and a music stand.

If anybody found $30,000 on the sidewalk and wants to help me out, go read this article. Then give that money to a responsible charity or something.

But seriously - that piano sounds amazing. Dear Santa...