I got to practice this afternoon with the surprise that, boom, we bought a van for tour. We're now collective owners of a 1980-something heavily tinted blue with green trim, plush inside, with air conditioning and AM/FM cassette, van. To celebrate, we drove down the freeway past the airport and Candlestick point to the Sears store in the suburbs and purchased, also collectively, a bright red Truck Club to ward off would be thieves. We plan for these things in Amscray. We're all very responsible. Yes.

After horking down a barbecue cheesteak I dug back into my book and took the train home. Halfway there, one of the train doors got jammed open at the station, and they had to pull the entire thing out of service, tacking on an extra 30 minutes to my ride home. I was already not feeling very well, and coupled with the hordes of annoying tourists and suburban shoppers clutching their Abercromie & Fitch bags, I was not in the happiest of moods. I finally got home, poured a couple glasses of ice water, and have tried to salvage the rest of the evening. My head is clearing, and I think that I'm succeeding.

Note: Movie releases have been a real let down lately. I haven't seen anything new worth noting in a couple months, so I've pulled the movie log for the time being. I'm still waiting for The King Is Alive to be released somewhere around here. Besides, pictures of Bruce Springsteen make better site art. Tee-hee, tee-hee.

My work as a busy bee has finally come to an end. Tonight I have no prior engagements, except dinner with Miss Rodeo America at our favorite down-by-the-lake restaurant. It will be rather relaxing not having to rush out of the house right after work to be somewhere.

I can't say enough about how wonderful the Radiohead show was on Wednesday. Our seats were incredibly good, everyone was really into the band, and the setlist was the best I could have hoped for. They played the two songs I wanted to hear most (Knives Out and Permanent Daylight) back to back. Completely amazing. MRA bought me a pricey yet luxurious Radiohead hoodie sweathshirt that I'll sport on tour, that is, if we visit anywhere remotely cold on tour. Texas is not cold in the summer. I found that out the hard way.

I could go on and on about the horrors of large rock concerts, dwelling for paragraphs on end about the parking troubles and expensive beer, but overall the show was incredible, and any complaints I had were quickly wiped out during the opening bass riff on The National Anthem.

I saw an ad in the subway station last night which encouraged migration from the energy depleted streets of San Francisco to the luxurious, power-heavy areas of, yes, Michigan. The ad was tagged with a slogan of Great Lakes, Great Energy underneath a picture of some building (in Michigan, I guess) lit up brightly at night. I *knew* there was a reason I should move to Michigan, and I thank the nice folks from the statewide chamber of commerce for pointing it out.

I like the world Fiji.

It started raining as I left work yesterday, and all of a sudden my internal season clock was thrown out of whack, thinking that it was suddenly the beginning of fall instead of the start of summer. I drove to the subway station through the dusty wet mess and grabbed a jacket out of the back of my car, unsure about what to expect. I seem to be ultra weather-sensitive.

Our drummer came back from a long vacation, so we played every song we knew at practice last night, quite a load all hurried together. Things sounded good, good to bring some of the rock back into my life, good to get the comradery again. Tour planning is getting complicated, but we're staying optimistic in the face of adversity in the form of extremely long drives.

I'm going to the Giants v. Dodgers game with Byrd tonight, should be a nice relaxing evening, and I've never been to a night game at Pac Bell Park. It's going to be cold and wet again tonight, I'll have my little green rain slicker with me.

Radiohead tomorrow night by the bay. I keep having dreams of seeing them play live, but it's always in a small venue and nobody shows up. Of course, that won't be the case tomorrow, as they're playing in the big outdoor stadium type place around here. I've never been to, I've never had a reason (I don't like Phish, or Enya...) until now. I am rather excited, but as with anyplace I've never been, I'm already stressed about getting there in time for the show. Thursday we practice again, Friday is laundry, Saturday is the day to relax, Sunday is practice again, and Monday is our big show. When did I become so busy?

So we went to a show in the city last night as a last-minute-get-out-of-the-house measure. We headed out to see John Vanderslice and the Mountain Goats play their respective sets in a very packed club, full of dorks and scenesters alike milling about gently. John Vanderslice is a big cheese in San Francisco, he runs the new "hip" studio Tiny Telephone (which, rumor has it, Third Eye Blind has booked up for 6 months of practices/demos), and was in the defunct MK Ultra. They were alright, the songs are fashioned well and played with a level of professionalism missing from most "indie" bands, but in the end it was just another set. The bass was a little too busy, floating in and out of the mix at odd times.

The Mountain Goats, one of my favorite live acts ever, were in top form. There was quite a large crowd there to see him, and he got some excellent feedback in the form of hooting and hollering all night. Unfortunately, the ride had to leave quite early and we missed most of his set. However, since the show was an unexpected plan addition the whole experience was quite nice.

We went grocery shopping tonight, and I proudly bought a nine dollar ribeye steak to eat for dinner. I had planned on barbecuing it, but opted instead for the PJ O'Rourke method of steak cooking. Take a shot glass full of any oil, as long as it is not motor or olive, dump it in a pan, heat it until it smokes, pour a shitload of salt & pepper on the meat, throw it in the pan, flip it over a couple times, and when you think it needs a couple more minutes to cook, it's done. I added some french fries for that true Steak Frites feel, along with some green salad, throw in a cold Olympia, and voila! One fucking great dinner. I can't remember the last time I ate so well.

MP3 of the week:

Ahem.

While sitting at the fish earlier tonight, having a couple Rolling Rocks and listening to some Van Morrison on the juke, I had the following conversation:

Me: What should the MP3 of the week be this time around?
Miss Rodeo America: Islands in the Stream.
Me: No, really. I'd like something not alot of people know, something that is a tad more "underground."
Miss Rodeo Ameria: Islands in the Stream.
Me: Huh, I wonder if anyone will remember it. Maybe I should pick some obscure indie song.
Miss Rodeo Ameria: Islands in the Stream.

Presenting, a star duet if there ever was one, Dolly Parton & Kenny Rogers singing Islands in the Stream. We put this song on every time we're at The Argus, our Saturday afternoon local. We sing loudly there, all alone at our end of the bar, and then I get tempted to put the song on again to drive the other two people out of the bar. You may be laughing, but, seriously, it's a great song. Bob your head a little, let your coolness go for once, Jesus.