//oakland, calif.
//age 33
//permanent mp3s

//tour photos
//the daily photos

(!)ad sandwich chronicles
(!)road noms
(!)listen missy
(!)daily irkutsk

Blogger: The One-Man-Company

© 2000-2010

:: 12.11.2003 ::

(listening to: Bright Eyes: Singles & EPs)

I live in a beautiful city. Well, that is, a beautiful and run-down kind of place. I rode my bike to the recording studio yesterday, 61 blocks all the way through downtown to the water, and seeing all the old houses and the gangs of random men hanging out on the corners reminded me of Springsteen's "Streets Of Philadelphia" video, strangely compelling, yet undesirable. I'm making the same ride today, although this time I'm bringing gloves.

I wish I had some sort of digital video camera so I could record the ride and then set it to music. Someday, perhaps.

(10:34 AM) :: (link)

:: 12.09.2003 ::

(listening to: Grandaddy: Sumday)

Frankie drew back her kimono;
She took out a little forty-four;
Root-a-toot-toot, three times she shot
Right through that hardwood door,
She shot her man, he was doin' her wrong.

Bring out the rubber tired buggy
Bring out the rubber tired hack,
I'm taking my man to the graveyard, but I aint' gonna bring him back.
Lord he was my man, and he done me wrong.

Bring out a thousand policemen
bring 'em around today
lock me down in the dungeon cell and throw that key away
I shot my man, he was doin' me wrong.

Frankie said to the warden
"What are they going to do?"
The warden he said to Frankie "It's electric chair for you,
'cause you shot your man, he was doing you wrong."

This story has no moral
This story has no end
This story just goes to show
That there ain't no good in men
He was her man and he done her wrong.

- "Frankie And Johnny" by Jimmie Rodgers

So far, being unemployed has been pretty A-OK. Today I took MRA to work, got some coffee, came home and packed a couple of boxes, got some lunch, ran some errands, got my bicycle fixed, and made vegetarian black bean chili for dinner. And I still have energy! It's amazing how un-tired all the time I am since I'm not trudging around the warehouse all day trying to look busy.

So, why am I packing boxes. 'CAUSE WE'RE FINALLY MOVING, HALLELUJAH! We've been thinking about getting our own place for awhile, and now that I'm in that 7.9% of unemployed Californians, it's as good a time as any. We found a cute flat exactly 22 blocks south of our current house, and the kitties should be OK in the neighborhood, and it has laundry, and an extra room for an office. Oh, and it's within walking distance of 4 different sets of friends, so no more 5:00 AM cab rides home from their houses after late night beer-induced charades games. This is good news.

It's been raining, a lot. Saturday we drove north through the backroads of Sonoma and Mendocino counties in the rain, taking in all the greenery and wet roadways. We drove 250 miles for two pieces of pie in Hopland, and then drove back full of probably the best desert I've ever had in my life. So worth it.

The narrative that goes along with the photos of Charles Cushman over at Brokentype is pretty good. The photos are even better. Some day when I have a big monitor and a decent internet connection, I'm going to lose myself in them for hours, I'm sure of it.

(PS: Download the new MP3 of the week. It's from 1929.)

(7:43 PM) :: (link)