Sunday, March 22, 2015


Yesterday was a lazy day.  I took a trip to Half Price Books, took a walk, took a nap, ate a bowl of soup.  I was just flat out tired from last weekend's Rock and Roll Lottery gig and preparation; Friday night's gig; work--and everything else.  I just had no gas in the tank and it was pleasant to do nothing all day to prepare for a night out at The Ship and Voltaire with good friends for a late birthday dinner.  I found a Dan Simmons book and a novel called Kraken that I have seen a few times before, and a couple of graphic novels, at Half Price.  I got a birthday reading pile for $30, not bad.  However, I jumped into The Twelve, from the Plaza Library, the followup to The Passage.  High tech vampire apocalypse Saturday.

The Ship was a magical little place, wow.  And dinner at Voltaire was one of the best meals I have had in a long time, with good pals.  Excellent birthday.

I am blogging this morning but may in fact still be tired.  I may in fact pursue indolence today, as well.  I may need even less activity today.  Situps--no.  Jogging--no.  Home repair--no.  Almost anything but indolence and dawdling will not do.  Syntax will not be edited for sense.  I send this report from a large pile of pillows, in the dark, with a Roku controller and a mug of coffee in my hand. 

My birthday was fun, though my fantasy of leaving work after 8 hours was interrupted by work--what else?  We had penne with roasted peppers and sausage from Broadway Butcher--so good.  And coconut cream pie prepared by one of Tracy's co-workers.  It was great.  At 46, I am launching into the second third of my life, and think all birthdays from here on out will feature pie, not cake.  Coconut cream, banana cream, apple, blueberry, strawberry rhubard--any of these.  Another birthday commitment I made was to keep wearing loud shoes.

Friday night's show was really fun.  It is a special thing to be rolling out the Squids in KC with old friends.  We debuted a new song, again, and even better.  It was the second time I've seen Knife Crime--rock solid rhythm section, cool contrapuntal guitars ("angular" but not arty UK postpunk angular), fun songs, and a nifty Redd Kross cover to end it.  The Heavy Figs were a blast of fresh air from 1971, sort of loose proto garage metal and rock and roll.  It reminded me of Dead Moon and a few other things.

Whatever the state of the war on drugs, I have been naive about grass.  I went to The Grass Pad and bought a 25 pound bag of seed, fertilizer, peat moss, and straw from True Value.  Watching it not grow is agonizing.  Watching birds use the islands of straw as a feeder is agonizing.  Yet, I am seeing a few shoots come up.  If you re-focus, and don't look to closely, you see a slight haze of green shoots that MAY be grass growing.  Or this is your hopeful imagination.  Whatever the case, unless I choose to sod the yard, I believe I have embarked on a 5-year project to get even a little bit of grass growing where the stone mason thrashed the back yard with a bobcat, moving and leveling.  All very necessary.

Here is a cool photo of me and Britt, from the Rock and Roll Lottery, by Rachel Sky.  I met so many cool people doing that show, after getting so stressed out!  There is stress that indicates something excellent is happening, and other kinds of stress that, if chronic, need to be zapped.


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