It has been an interesting couple of days on the housing front. I went to an agency the other day and that was kind of an Elmore Leonard-type situation. There was a client there who looked like Apocalypse-now era Brando, had a soft indeterminate accent that made me think he was a hit man on the lam or perhaps a Rhodesian Liberation Army wanna-be. Of course he was just a guy in the same boat I'm in but it is fun to make up stories.
Today was good, there's a cool joint next to Brian's house in the Whitaker and a cozy place for sale right near work, on Pioneer Park hill. I thought about checking out a 2BR w/ fence out near Echo Hollow School, off Barger, until I realized my gas bill would be about 160 bucks a month just driving back and forth to work in Springfield. I figure that would be kind of like living in Coralville, Iowa, without Donutland.
For some reason, the best cd for this week's transition-o-rama has been Nikki Sudden's last album, The Truth Doesn't Matter. He had this inimitable kind of natural phrasing, like Joe Strummer, and a totally comfortable vibe, like great Westerberg songs, or classic Stones. I also like that he came from a totally zany art punk beginning w/ Swell Maps and just kept growing and changing out of that until finding himself back w/ the stuff he grew up with--T Rex, Stones, Johnny Thunders, and even classic oldies.
Far more positive was meeting with a mortgage consultant and learning where I stand with that. Basically borrowing power is good and will be even better once I pay off all the Pete Townshend bobble-head dolls I charged at Spencer's and the e-bay double-necked bass-mandolins. Bass-olins were popular in Ukrainian garage rock back in the early 80's but haven't been part of my schtick for some time. My 50 gallon tank full of South American electric carp was also somewhat of an indulgence.
At any rate, here is Dozer's Craigslist ad for housing.