The Hunting Hat

There it is. Darlene.

2007-08-12T17:25:00.000-07:00

Taking Back America
Christmas
Thanksgiving
Mother's Day

Mom Jeans

2007-08-12T07:11:00.000-07:00

St. Nicholas

2007-08-08T09:32:00.000-07:00

"And I think we took comfort in being in those places.

"Where at one time, genius was at work. Or play or ... Kavanagh, O'Nolan, and what have you.

"You know, that it was still possible to produce enduring works even though you were hungover or drunk, even. And then you began to think that it was the only way to produce enduring works."

- from Conor McPherson's "St. Nicholas"

Common sense

2006-04-23T23:58:00.000-07:00

"Writing about music is like dancing about architecture - it's a really stupid thing to want to do."

--Elvis Costello

I feel the same way about poetry, too. And that's exactly why I don't want to write a 12-page analytical paper on Louise Gluck.

I'm building a recording studio in my new apartment. This is where my time/money/brain has been recently.

One of these days I'll start blogging again.

Molly Molly

2006-03-22T11:16:00.000-08:00

When I was a child - a small child - my grandparents had a horse named "Tamale." Blake called him "Molly Molly."

After Tamale died, we used to play on his grave, out in the pasture.

2006-03-20T11:31:00.000-08:00

Just decided I love walnuts.

Spectacular Ozarks photos coming soon.

Afternoon delight

2006-03-08T15:33:00.000-08:00

Today, I went to class, wrote some poetry, worked out, called my grandmother, and ate peanut butter straight out the eff'n jar. It's been rad.

But for serious ... I think it's going to rain tonight, and I don't know how I feel about that. I like rainy days, kind of, but they certainly can be a nussiace. I'm supposed to go running tonight, for example, and I fear the rain will hinder my plans. But rain means more water in Arkansas (maybe), so I'll stop complaining.

Speaking of rain - I'm sure I've spoken about the garden before ... I haven't? Well, let me fill you in. Stephen, John and myself have created a vegetable garden complete with fence, gate and compost heap. What we lack is vegetables. We've been waiting for Spring! to arrive. And, well, it has. So planting and cultivating shall begin promptly upon our return from spring break. Mmmmm.

Stacks

2006-03-07T23:38:00.000-08:00

I have a stack of DVDs sitting in my living room. Well, I actually have two - I have one stack of DVDs that I'm planning on selling to Hastings, and I have another stack of DVDs that I plan to watch again before selling them to Hastings.

Today, I watched "Reservoir Dogs," which is still as shockingly violent as ever. One of the most humorous and intense movies in my collection (there aren't many movies in my collection, by the way).

Anyway, I'll be selling it to Hastings soon. I'm selling a bunch of crap ... a keyboard, a mic, a reel-to-reel machine, an iTrip ... the list goes on. I'm getting rid of stuff I don't use often enough to justify keeping.

I'll be on my way to the Ozarks in less than three days ...

Ticking

2006-03-06T08:23:00.000-08:00

Reading these poets who began writing significant, anthologized poetry at a young age, I've realized that I have a lot of work to do.

North Haven

2006-02-12T14:41:00.000-08:00

I read this Elizabeth Bishop poem this afternoon, and I felt like someone had dropped a sandbag on my chest.

Some background: This was written in memory of Bishop's dear friend and fellow poet, Robert Lowell, who died in 1977.

- - - - - - - - - - -

I can make out the rigging of a schooner
a mile off; I can count
the new cones on the spruce. It is so still
the pale bay wears a milky skin; the sky
no clouds except for one long, carded horse¹s tail.

The islands haven't shifted since last summer,
even if I like to pretend they have
--drifting, in a dreamy sort of way,
a little north, a little south, or sidewise,
and that they're free within the blue frontiers of bay.

This month, our favorite one is full of flowers:
Buttercups, Red Clover, Purple Vetch,
Hackweed still burning, Daisies pied, Eyebright,
the Fragrant Bedstraw's incandescent stars,
and more, returned, to paint the meadows with delight.

The Goldfinches are back, or others like them,
and the White-throated Sparrow's five-note song,
pleading and pleading, brings tears to the eyes.
Nature repeats herself, or almost does:
repeat, repeat, repeat; revise, revise, revise.

Years ago, you told me it was here
(in 1932?) you first "discovered girls"
and learned to sail, and learned to kiss.
You had "such fun," you said, that classic summer.
("Fun"--it always seemed to leave you at a loss...)

You left North Haven, anchored in its rock,
afloat in mystic blue...And now--you've left
for good. You can't derange, or re-arrange,
your poems again. (But the Sparrows can their song.)
The words won't change again. Sad friend, you cannot change.

Time's the revelator

2006-02-06T21:52:00.000-08:00

Step into the light, poor Lazarus
Don't lie alone behind the window shade
Let me see the mark death made
I dream a highway back to you.
I dream a highway back to you.

Gillian Welch thrives in an aesthetic of antiquity ... and that's where my heart is at the moment.

Bush and I will be taking a backpacking trip in the Ozarks in March. There's a ghost town there I'm determined to hit, called Rush. From what I've read, the spirits and haunts run wild there. Breathtaking. Once inhabited by over five thousand people, Rush came and went as the result of zinc mining. Now all that's left are abandoned saloons, hotels, barns and homes.

This fills me with joy.

The Worms at Heaven's Gate

2006-01-29T22:43:00.000-08:00

Out of the tomb, we bring Badroulbadour,
Within our bellies, we her chariot.
Here is an eye. And here, one by one,
The lashes of that eye an its white lid.
Here is the cheek on which that lid declined,
And, finger after finger, here the hand,
The genius of that cheek. Here are the lips,
The bundle of the body and the feet.
. . . . . . . . . . .
Out of the tomb we bring Badroulbadour.

I've never been crazy about Wallace Stevens' poetry before ... but last night, I began to love it. The poem printed above is just a glance at the depth and wit of his work ... I'd encourage you to read more.

I did worship for a D-Now in Italy, TX this weekend. The little things went well ... no technical problems, no broken strings, no stuttering speakers ... but the kids in that group could care less about anything. Forget spirituality. They don't care if they're failing at school, if they get arrested ... nothing. Probably the worst group of kids ever. The only light was the junior-high boys group ... they were a delight ... refreshing, really ... the leaders of the group. Brent, my friend who serves as youth pastor out there, needs prayer. Big time. He has quite a task ahead of him ... stirring this group from complacency. Keep him in your thoughts.

After a few weeks of searching, I think I've found a place to live for the next year or so. It's a small one-bedroom, but it's all I need. Either today or tomorrow, I'll be signing a lease. Get excited.

I'm doing a show in McGregor on Friday night at 8pm, if anyone's interested. I'll serve up some new songs I've been cooking for a while. And on Saturday, I'm joining m'boy Jared Crump for a show at Common Grounds ... sure to thrill your soul.

Keep it real. love, brian.

Trouble

2006-01-26T20:10:00.000-08:00

Communication's one thing
We never seem to find
O Lord, I'm sorry
But there's trouble on the line

I love country music. Now on to more serious things.

Sometimes I find myself teetering back and forth between passion and hopelessness. It's almost like my highest points are immediately followed or preceded by my lowest. This is what I've been feeling lately.

I'm in the middle of the most fruitful period of my life, as far as writing goes. I really believe that. But when I fail to bear fruit, I feel like I'm being choked by hopelessness. I spent hours of my evening in a chair, numb and dead. I stared at things, I entertained myself with mindless comedy - I went into a coma. I began to hate my surroundings, to scorn the people I love and yearn for a more interesting life. But as soon as I got a creative idea, I was back on top again.

It's almost like life's not worth the effort if I can't or don't create.

It doesn't have to be anything I'm in love with, either. Two days ago, I wrote a horrible pop/country song that I hated ... but I was driven to do it. I thrived on the act of creation - heartless, tearless creation. I didn't pour myself into the lyrics, but I poured myself into the creation of the lyrics. It's like an addiction ... and I get withdrawals.

A bit of honesty for you ... I suppose you know me a little better now.

Loretta

2006-01-23T19:45:00.000-08:00

This old gal's alright.

I picked up "Van Lear Rose" tonight, and I'll go ahead and say it's one of the best records I've heard in a few years.

Fresh Ideas

2006-01-18T18:39:00.000-08:00

I'm in the early stages of developing a theme for a new record. It's rather exciting (not to mention different) this time. Mmm hmm.

Tagged?

2006-01-12T07:22:00.000-08:00

I've been tagged by Mr. Wagner, though he didn't tell me in person and I had to figure it out on my own.

Ground Rules: The first player of this "game" starts with the topic "5 weird habits of yourself", and people who get tagged need to write a blog entry about their 5 weird habits as well as state this rule clearly. In the end you need to choose the next person to be tagged and list his/her name. Don't forget to leave a comment that says "you are tagged" on his/her blog and tell them to read yours.

1. I always wear shoes in the kitchen. Always. Even when it's clean, I don't like the sticky-Windex clean feeling on my feet.

2. I always set my alarm to abnormal times. Like, I'll wake up at 7:03 a.m., never 7:00. Or perhaps 8:44. Never a standard, round-to time.

3. I shave my feet. This one may not be very original, since most of you know about it. But it's true. I shave 'em. I have more hair than anyone I know on my head/face, but the feet are squeaky-clean.

4. I wear socks turned inside-out (when I wear socks at all). I like the way it feels, and it helps keep the seams from rubbing blisters on my toes when I wear boots.

5. I eat one thing at a time. Sandwich and chips? All the chips will be gone before I eat the sandwich. Usually, the things I like the least are eaten first. The only real exception is at Thanksgiving, when I mix all the food together.

That took a lot of thought, and I don't think mine was a good as Wagner's. Ummmm... Jen Russell. Go.

Overkill

2006-01-03T21:49:00.000-08:00

After months of work and gallons of scientific chemicals, I think it's safe to say the debut (and probably last) record from "The Decadent Obsession" is nearly complete. Just a bit of mastering, and we should be ready for a listening party. Prepare yourselves for a monstrous event -- fireworks, dragons, dancers, bobbing for apples, and clowns for the kids.

Seriously, though. I'm going to have a listening party in a few weeks, and I want you to be there.

I've started reading The Bell Jar, and I think I like it. Sylvia Plath writes prose a lot like Salinger, and you know I'm all over that. Though much of the imagery thus far is related to caskets, which is a bit morbid, she seems very normal and approachable as a writer. Honest, I suppose. I can relate to her. I hope to finish this book and read A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man before class begins next week. Hold me to that, please.

Bush is going to Portland tomorrow morning. I'm a tad jealous. I'll just sit at home and breathe music and literature instead.

Read 'em and weep

2005-12-16T11:11:00.000-08:00

A few Christmoustache photos for you ...

Final Thoughts

2005-12-15T14:22:00.000-08:00

Making pies and making records are the two best ways to usher in the Christmas season.

(Oh and Christmoustache begins tonight ... by the way. Pictures to come soon.)

I wouldn't want them back

2005-12-05T10:23:00.000-08:00

The Beckett play Krapp's Last Tape makes my heart tremble. Good Lord.

Inhibition

2005-12-03T18:32:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wish I had the courage to live without thinking, to act mindlessly and move on. But there's a shadow, a daunting consciousness, behind every impulse.

Life without reservation is an empty dream.

The Sweetest Things

2005-11-28T14:55:00.000-08:00

God damn the movement; damn the passing days
And all that rush existence toward its end;
Subdue the sun and slow its aging rays;
Shake up the pattern, twist Time’s twisted end.
For life grows rich with age, but falls to rot,
Like ripening fruit, so soon to go to waste,
Like final tongues of fire, crazed and hot,
Destruction hides beyond the brightest taste.
The ruin came that day, when I awoke
To find her lifeless, lying by my side,
Her lips gone cold, her hair as gray as smoke,
Her feeble fingers grafted into mine.
God damn you, Time. You give, and give, then take
The sweetest things, so full before they break.

Sinfulness

2005-11-16T14:49:00.000-08:00

I've written about this before, but I don't think I've changed my position at all since the spring.

We are going to hell. There's just no way around it. I realized this today as I drove past a homeless man on my way to rent a shirt, vest and tie for $55. I need these items for a single evening, and I honestly hate wearing them, yet I threw away $55 - enough to buy eleven good meals.

This represents excess. This Saturday, I'll be wearing expensive clothes, eating a gormet meal, and dancing the night away (insert vomit) while Travis, the seventh-grader I mentor, whose father is dead and mother is in prison, will probably hang out alone and/or get bitched out by a random relative. Something's not right in the ballance here, friends.

It's a culture problem. I and the rest of my culture believe we are entitled to little "treats" once in a while, qualifying that belief by claiming we're not "rich" by American standards. But in truth, we are ... just look around.

"But it's nice to dress up and go out to a fancy place sometime ..." Well, it's also nice to eat a meal once in a while, or to sleep on a real bed; lots of folks don't have those luxuries. While I don't think it's a sin to live comfortably, I'm convinced it is a sin to indulge in things we don't need. I will go to hell because I own: an iPod, too many shoes, books I have never read and never will read, two record playes, "collections" of a number of items, "toys," a tobacco pipe, an assortment of random instruments ... you get the idea.

These are the things we don't want to give up. Sure, God has "blessed" us with money, by which we can enjoy these things, but I'm pretty sure he didn't intend for us to waste it like this. By living this lifesyle, the lifestyle of excess, we are damning ourselves to hell. "But I can't give up my (fill in the blank)!" I know ... neither can I. However, we'll have to do it to save our own souls. Remember that one thing Jesus said that one time, that it's easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven? I think this is what he's talking about.

And it's not so much that we don't give enough as it is that we waste what we have. I'll bet God smiles upon someone who saves money and doesn't splurge - that person isn't throwing cash away ... he's being smart. When the time comes to give, he'll have the resources to do so. Most of us, on the other hand, convince ourselves that we need things, then blow our money on them. Then, we make up excuses for not donating, saying, "Oh, this isn't a good time for me right now." Bullshit ... You just went skiing for a week - you're telling me you can't "adopt an angel" for Christmas? There's no excuse. We can't stand before God and tell him that we've been good stewards of our resources, because we haven't.

With Christmas fast-approaching, it's hard not to mention gifts and presents and all. Get things going on the right track ... instead of buying your friends a bunch of shit they don't need and are likely to trash pretty soon, give something useful to someone who needs it. Don't buy toys for some impoverished little kid ... do kids really need more dolls and cars? Let 'em play with a damn piece of cardboard. They'll have more fun anyway. Get them warm coats, socks, shirts ... or how about some food? Maybe a gift certificate? You can even donate money in honor of your friends and family ... that way, everyone wins.

I'm really feeling terrible about all this. All on account of those retarded tuxedo accessories. The sad part is, I could have declined the invitiation to go, were I not so afraid of sounding like a bitch or being misunderstood. Oh well. Live and learn. At least it brought this issue back to the front of my mind. Really, though - we have no excuses. I challenge you, my friends, to join me in purging our lives of excess.

Mmmm

2005-11-15T19:56:00.000-08:00

I love vinyl. Love it. I am currently listening to ALL my Elvis 45s.

I found a tux today at Goodwill. Sweet. (You know I hate tuxedos, but a cheap tux is worth its weight in gold) ...

The show went pretty well on Saturday. Tons of technical problems and scheduling confusion, but everything seemed well-received. The electric stuff was fun ... I need to do that every once in a while - it has a special place in my heart.

I have this reel of 8mm film I shot close to a year ago ... I've decided to send it in for processing just to see what comes out. I just experimented with it, so it may look awful. Fun, nonetheless.

Speaking of experiments, I'm really, really excited about the new "The Decadent Obsession" record. I hope to have it finished by the end of the year. I haven't gotten very good feedback about it yet, but I think it will make more sense when it's all together as a whole. I just love some of the sounds on there. I'm trying to A) express artistic decadence - push music, words, sonics, all to the breaking point; and B) to put songs in a new context. More on that later.

I'm also pumped about Thanksgiving. Just - what? - 9 days away? Maybe 8? It finally got cold today. When I left the house at 9:15 this morning, I was sweating. Around noon or so, however, the weather became rather delightful. That's pumpkin pie weather, right there. I'm awaiting that canned, jello-like cranberry sauce ... that's the good stuff.

I'm off. Have a great night.

Books on the shelf

2005-11-11T03:29:00.000-08:00

New Arkansas photos at ThePhotoHat ...

Also, let me take this time to inform you of Saturday's show. Common Grounds, 10:00 p.m. ... Full band this time, suckas. And Marshall's going to open up the show at 9:30 or so. Come out and join the fun.

It's 5:30 a.m. ... There is NO good reason to be blogging at this hour. Humans really are creatures of habit, hmmm? Wait ... what does that mean?

In other news, my beard has officially hit the status of "nappy" ... I've waited for this my whole life. Sweet.

Dream

2005-11-09T10:53:00.000-08:00

I had a strange dream last night. All I remember is that I was playing around with a digital camera ... which, as you know, is very out-of-character for me. I also remember cutting the bones out of my lower legs and replacing them with PVC pipe ... just for fun. And I remember telling someone about it, and having them advise me "not to run" on those legs.

A tale of soup and love gone wrong

2005-11-07T22:34:00.000-08:00

I finally pissed off the people at Schlotzky's.

This being potato with bacon day, I went in with Kelly to grab my usual ... soup and water. As I returned to the cauldron for my third cup of soup, the following conversation transpired:

WORKER: Hey, do you know how many refills you get on that?
BRIAN: Nope.
WORKER: Two. I mean, one. One refill. You get two bowls. And that's like number three for you.
BRIAN: So, do you want me to pour this back in there?
WORKER: No. I guess it's cool this time, but just so you'll know ...
BRIAN: I've been getting soup refills for months and nobody's said anything to me.
WORKER: Yeah, well there's no sign or anything, but we're actually about to move the soup behind the counter so people won't do that anymore.

You may or may not know this, but I like to hold grudges. I stopped filling up at the Exxon on 5th street, because they charged me $4 for some slurpee-type drink. I stoped eating red meat because I didn't have anything better to do. And now, my friends, I will stop eating at Schlotzky's. Why? Because they have become less than ideal.

Really, though. I come in multiple times a week, with people, and consistantly provide them money and business. Not just from myself, but from my friends, as well. And who eats the damn soup anyway? I've gone in there 30 minutes before closing time and there was plenty of soup left. They're not hurting in the soup department.

Thus, today ends a delightful year of warm soup and good conversation. 2005 has been the year of Schlotzky's, but that year has drawn to a close. Like a sweet relationship turned sour, I'm left only with hurt and bitterness.

Scholtzky's, you just made yourself an enemy.

2005-11-01T14:31:00.000-08:00

Tears and anecdotes
Are too feeble to carry
The weight of a man

Mercy, Lord

2005-10-30T20:59:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the best answers don't hold water ... today, they fell to pieces.

Dear God,
Did you take a Sunday off? Sleep in for a change? Party too hard last night? Or did you do it on purpose? Did you want the world to see it? Did you think it'd be funny? Did you think about the kids, the family? Or did you stand and watch, with your hands behind your back? Did you let the merciless hand of fate do its worst, just for the sake of principle? Did you refuse to step in and take control? Do you even have the power to do so? Are you even around?

The Lord said to Job:
"Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct him?
Let him who accuses God answer him!"

Then Job answered the Lord:
"I am unworthy -- how can I reply to you?
I put my hand over my mouth."

Art

2005-10-30T00:23:00.000-07:00

Is there a point? Is it worth the effort? Does it cease to be art if there is no audience?

Or does it breathe on its own, apart from appreciation?

Sometimes I second-guess myself.

2005-10-26T07:40:00.000-07:00

Who ordered a Big Mac?

The Flat Line

2005-10-24T16:15:00.000-07:00

The title of Quiet Riot's 1984 release, "Condition Critical," was a sort of self-fulfilling prophesy. I can now attest to this fact, having purchased said record at Goodwill today.

Next time you come over, ask me to play "Stomp Your Hands, Clap Your Feet" for you. A stadium rock tragedy.

The fire in me

2005-10-17T19:17:00.000-07:00

"Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wouldn't want them back. Not with the fire in me now. No, I wouldn't want them back."

- from "Krapp's Last Tape" by Samuel Beckett

Retreat

2005-10-05T00:29:00.000-07:00

"Oh, my childhood, my pure and happy childhood! I used to sleep in this nursery. I used to look out from here into the garden. Happiness awoke with me every morning! and the orchard was just the same then as it is now; nothing is altered. It is all white, all white! Oh, my cherry orchard! After the dark and stormy autumn and the frosts of winter you are young again and full of happiness; the angels of heaven have not abandoned you."

Nostalgia

2005-10-04T09:54:00.000-07:00

Went to Lubbock and Abilene last weekend ... I must say ... Abilene is probably the ugliest city ever. Fun show, ugly city. This weekend, I'm playing in College Station and Houston, so tell yo' homies.

I realized this morning that my brain revolves around my childhood. Everything I think, everything I do, all gets contrasted with distant childhood memories. Why am I so facinated with the past? I think I'm stuck there because life had no purpose then, and it didn't have to. At present, my life has no aim, but it needs one desperately. I go to school, I write music, I drive all over and play shows ... Where's it all going? What's the point? I have to find a way to crawl up into my imagination and make some cash. I'd be happy there, away from reality. Yeats may have questioned escapism, but it sounds great to me at the moment.

I need cold air, bright lights and a box of LEGOs.

People who suck

2005-09-28T13:32:00.000-07:00

So about five minutes ago, I was walking down 5th Street on campus. I was about 15 feet behind a girl when she met a dopey-looking man coming the opposite direction. As they passed one another, that fat bastard turned his head slowly and gave her a good looking-over. As he stared at her, he said, "Not bad."

I wanted to beat the hell out of him, but I thought, "Maybe he's retarded." If I ever decided to start a fight with some jackass, of course he'd be retarded. Then I'd get arrested for fighting a retarded guy. But what is that? Really? You can't say that stuff to people. That poor girl looked as sweet as she could be, and she had to put up with that bitch talking to her like that.

People suck.

Strange-ness

2005-09-19T20:38:00.000-07:00

I've been experimenting with some junk recently ... mostly my 4-track analog recorder. That thing puts out some pretty freaky sounds. Here are two tracks I've done since Saturday ... you may enjoy them, and you may not. I just thought the sounds were interesting.

September 19, 2005
September 17, 2005

Really huge babies

2005-09-08T18:23:00.000-07:00

So I played piano and sang at FBC's "Agape Meal" for the homeless tonight. Quite enjoyable. I was sitting down at a table, chatting with some of the folks there, and a lady named Mary told a story about her nephew. She claims ... her sister was at the grocery store, and she put her baby in the basket with a fully-cooked ham. When she got to the cash register, she looked down to find the baby covered in grease ... and the ham was gone. Devoured by a baby? You make the call.

Once I Lived ...

2005-09-04T20:12:00.000-07:00

I've posted a recording of Jen, Blake and myself singing "I Threw Away The Rose" by Merle Haggard. Quite fun. Listen to it at PureVolume.com.

Up and away

2005-09-02T06:41:00.000-07:00

Doing lots of stuff this weekend. I'm somehow going to hitchhike from Waco to Dallas, from Dallas to McKinney, from McKinney to Italy, and from Italy to Waco. That sounds like fun. Gas is so high, I don't really have a choice.

Right now, however, I must shower, do laundry, and make it to class for a delightful discussion of Beowulf. Peace.

Ooops.

2005-09-01T16:16:00.000-07:00

Apparently, my music's been on iTunes since June. Kinda cool.

2005-09-01T09:25:00.000-07:00

Brand spankin' new TheBrianShow.com ... Stephen Bush knows his computer language. That's all I have to say. Check it out.

Questions

2005-08-30T13:51:00.000-07:00

DISCLAIMER: If you cannot openly and honestly discuss the subject of religion, and you are given to leaving comments containing verses from the "Roman Road," please read no further. Just be satisfied that you will not see me in heaven.

In class today, I made a long list of faith-related issues that bring me misery ... these are problems that I cannot resolve, questions that seem to have no answer. These are the things that pull me away from Christianity. Allow me to share these with you ... I want to hear your thoughts.

I'm only going to pose one question at a time. After a couple of days, I'll create another post containing a different question ... and so on ...

Question 1

Is thoughtless faith more legitimate than thoughtful disbelief? I have trouble believing that an unquestioning, childlike faith is the key to salvation ... that allows one to live a life of complacent ignorance and denial.

Perhaps salvation is found in my willingness to struggle and plague myself with hard questions. One who wrestles with the identity and truth of God is one who lives in the trenches of faith. If I don't doubt Christ, I don't think about Christ. But even in my doubt, my thoughts about faith are much more serious than the thoughts of those who never question their beliefs.

Everyone doubts, whether or not they choose to admit it. Maybe salvation exists only for those who don't deny their doubt, but, rather, choose to live with it. Perhaps "the saved" are those who willingly sacrifice confidence in their own salvation.

Life is beautiful

2005-08-28T19:39:00.000-07:00

You, too, can have my crazy face in your wedding. All it takes is a ring, folks. Get that ball rolling.

2005-08-22T23:35:00.000-07:00

I figured it was high time I shared this with someone: When I write song lyrics, my nose runs like crazy. I seriously blow my nose every 4-5 minutes. It's ridiculous.

Eye Candy

2005-08-22T17:25:00.000-07:00

For those of you who have sold your soul to the digital camera ... take a look at these bad boys ... behold the power of film.

For the rest of you, who would just like to see some photos from the Arkansas trip ... check 'em out right here ... complete with commentary.

Tales from the ____

2005-08-21T10:42:00.000-07:00

We're heading up to Dallas in an hour or so to start work on Marshall's record. Verge Music Works (pictured above) is owned by Martin Baird, who I met at Marshall's show on Friday. Seems to know what he's doing -- so I'm excited about that. I'm a studio junkie, so I'll enjoy it, regardless.

The camping trip to Arkansas was a blast. Wags and I did a lot of hiking, climbing, caving and running from thunderstorms. I've developed most of the photos, but I still need to scan them. When they're up, I'll let you know.

Probably the most exciting part of the trip (for me) was seeing the remains of Dogpatch USA, a theme park I visited when I was around 5 years old. It was spooky to see things I vaguely remember, and even spookier to see them rotted and overgrown. I went on that trip looking for ghosts, and I found them at Dogpatch.

Stephen and I also hiked out to Hawksbill Crag (above) for the most spectacular view in the Ozarks. It made me feel tiny and insignificant, and I dig that. That and ghosts -- that's why I had to go to the mountains. I need to feel small, and I need to be haunted.

I'm off to Dallas and sweet rock music. Class begins tomorrow, and I'm less than excited about it. Yeah. Peace.

Long, long gone

2005-08-13T16:02:00.000-07:00

I'm heading out early in the morning for the delicious Ozark mountains in northern Arkansas. Rivers, trails, and adventure await. I'll see you Wednesday.

FreakOut

2005-08-10T15:38:00.000-07:00

I just had the strangest dream. Yes, I know it's late in the afternoon, but I laid down for a little nap about, oh, 4 o'clock.

In my dream, my aunt Kima had asked me to write a few short children's stories for a collection she was putting together for her daughter. I agreed. I also agreed to watch said daughter, who was just recently potty-trained. I spent most of the dream chasing the little girl around ... she was crying and couldn't be convinced to go to the bathroom. Kisses, sweet-talk and encouragement didn't work.

Amidst the frenzy of the crying child, I somehow ended up in a dark water tank. I had lights attached to the sides of the tank so I could see. I wrestled around frantically, trying to escape. But then another man was in the tank with me. He began to narrate the whole scene in a terriffic storytelling voice. Once we got out of the water, I asked him how he managed to breathe underwater and talk in such a great voice. Turns out, he was another (famous) author writing stories for the little girl's collection, and a "truly remarkable man" (so said my aunt). I'll admit, he was a pretty swell guy ... who looked like Bob Barker sans the orange tan. But he told me he could talk and breathe underwater just by rolling his tongue and sticking it slightly outside of his mounth.

Here the dream takes a turn. My aunt lived in a giant apartment complex, filled with huge, luxuray apartments. Condominuims, perhaps. Like something from "Diff'rent Strokes." I found myself in the hallway of said apartment complex, and I couldn't find my way around. It was like the maze from hell. Suddenly, I had the biggest craving for "cat milk," which I had never tried. So ... I found another condo with a stage inside it. I ran accross the stage, and exited through a backstage door into a warehouse-sized freezer (that looked strangely like Sam's). Once inside, I looked around like mad for a carton of "cat milk," and finally found it. I paid (far too much) for it, then took off the cap and gave it a try. Terrible. It tasted a bit like orange juice.

That's the whole dream. The craziest part is ... I haven't slept so hard in months. When I woke up, I felt heavier than I ever have before. It was miserable. Just a little afternoon nap ... or a trip into another dimension?!? You make the call.

The calm

2005-08-07T21:54:00.000-07:00

Crisp air. A ghost town. A glowing horizon.

I'm at home there.

Rock Lobster

2005-08-06T18:41:00.000-07:00

I went to a wedding this weekend. I arrived in McKinney yesterday just in time for the rehersal, which was followed by a delicious, yet chaotic dinner at Buca de Bepo.

This morning, a bunch of guys got together for a "tool shower," to stock the groom up with all the tools he'll ever need. Wedding photos were at 11:30, and the ceremony itself was at 2:00. I was a groomsman, so I had the joy of wearing a delightful little tuxedo. You know I'm all into that.

I had a good time ... it was great to see all the people I ran around with in high school. But this wedding made me especially nervous. The bride was two years younger than myself and the groom, so she's my brother's age. That puts me on edge, for some reason. She's ridiculously mature, but it's just strange to see a girl who's always seemed so young to me ... getting married.

Granted, I've had plently of friends who were married at younger ages, but they weren't younger than me. It just freaks me out a bit. But all in all, a fun weekend. Those two are perfect.

Well I had the most remarkable idea last night. Most of you will think I'm kidding, but I'm not so sure that's true this time ...

A wedding musical (or opera, or rock opera, for that matter). The idea is to set the entire wedding -- the vows and all -- to epic orchestral music. The bride and groom would have to sing, of course, and there would be a choir involved. I can picture lighting effects, dancers ... the whole bit. A wedding performed by the bridal party (plus others) in a flashy Broadway style. I think if people have to sit through a wedding, they'd better be entertained. And what better way to entertain them than to turn the wedding into a well-rehersed stage show? It's bulletproof. It doesn't have to be corny, either ... the songs must be sincere, well-written, and beautiful ... it's possible.

I started writing it in the car on the way back to Waco. That's how pumped I am about this idea. Maybe when I get married in ten years or so, my opus will be complete, and I'll talk my really hip and tolerant fiancée into letting me perform it. We could take the wedding on the road, if it gets good reviews.

Over the mountains we go

2005-07-28T15:22:00.000-07:00

A thousand apologies for my lack of updates. I'll go ahead and say that there's "a lot" going on right now. Nothing too immediate, but lots of long-range plans are taking shape.

The tour for this fall is slowly coming together. I finally booked a couple of shows in Austin, so that's kind of a big deal. I'm working hard right now to generate press in the cities I play ... plant reviews, blurbs, etc. So if anyone knows any entertainment editors, holla back.

I met with Steve The Producer the other day, and he helped me brainstorm and design a post-graduation career strategy. So now I'm negotiating with Borders to sponsor a national tour for next summer, and I'm going to attempt to tour as a supporting act next fall. So we'll see what happens there.

As for the immediate stuff, Patrick and I are taking some of the high school guys camping at Enchanted Rock this weekend. I bought a sweet head lamp to wear when we crawl through the caves. I also decided to purchase a big-ass MAG-LITE ... I am now a real man. All real men need a good MAG-LITE.

Let's talk about Ray LaMontagne for a second. He played at La Zona Rosa in Austin on Friday night, so I went to check it out. Let's just say that Mr. LaMontagne is more of a spirit than a real human. Sometimes, he would belt the music at the top of his lungs, and sometimes he was inaudible. A dynamic performer. The three or four words he said between songs were mumbled so low that no one heard them. Ray is the most detached and inaccessible artist around ... but that just adds to the mystery. Overall, a great show.

Blake and Greg Scott The Insomniac joined me on my little excursion. Of course, they didn't get tickets beforehand, and the show was sold out. So they ended up paying scalpers far too much ... but ... they got in, and that's all that matters.

That's really all that's happening in my life at the moment. Just comsumed by music and all. I figured I'd update, anyhow. Peace.

Meet "Cedrick"

2005-07-20T15:30:00.000-07:00

Here it is, friends. The dinosaur chair. We've decided to name him "Cedrick." Bush and I picked this dude up at Barkin' Basement yesterday for $10. Sweet, I know.

2005-07-20T15:28:00.000-07:00

Myself in the dinosaur chair.

Outcasts of Poker Flat

2005-07-18T08:29:00.000-07:00

I have a burning desire to go hiking in the mountains.

Last night, around 10 p.m., I made my final trip back to Waco from the Cessna's farm in West. I enjoyed the quiet and solitude, and I even enjoyed messing with the demonic cat. I came home with a 10-pound bag of rice ... I told Roger I like rice, and he bought me enough to feed all the orphans in China.

I really don't have much else going on. Blake's coming in this weekend, and we're going to see Ray LaMontagne in Austin. That'll be pretty fly.

Hiking. Colorado. Sounds way too good right now. That's all I want.

Down on the farm

2005-07-11T22:23:00.000-07:00

I'll be spending the remainder of this week house-sitting for a family from church. They live 15 miles out of Waco, on a farm in West. It's been a while since I've partied with a horse, but when I met the colt yesterday, it bit my shoulder. I think it likes me.

In addition, I'll be watching the dogs, cat, fish and rabbits. And if one of Tex Black's cattle gets loose on the property, it's my job to call him up and let him know.

I finished reading "Huck Finn" tonight for my lit class. It's an excellent book ... that is, until the third section, when Tom Sawyer jumps back into the plot. I really hate that Tom Sawyer. Honest Injun, I do. He turns the most simple tasks into huge productions, and risks the well-being of others for the sake of fun. The only thing admirable about Tom is that he enjoys getting shot in the leg. I'm down with that.

I can't decide who the "father figure" is in this novel, though. Does Jim serve as a father for Huck, or does Huck serve as a father for Jim? Jim helps to develop Huck's understandings of morality and loyalty, but Jim can't function without Huck's knowledge and - dare I say? - wisdom. Perhaps there's no correct answer to that question ... And perhaps that's why "Huck Finn" is such a great work.

I played two shows and a wedding this weekend. Blake joined me at the Coffee Haus on Friday night, and we let the chemistry flow. Some of it sucked, and some of it was really beautiful ... but that's what made it so great - it was organic, unpredictable and inconsistent. It was like jamming around, except with a big crowd watching. I busted out piano stuff for the first time. Some of that sucked, too, which is why I enjoyed it. It was a "real" performance, and I dig that.

To all my friends in more pleasant regions of the world ... Waco is nasty hot. So be thankful for good weather, if, indeed, that's what you're experiencing.

I think I'm looking forward to this house-sitting deal. It's really peaceful out in West. There's a pond on the property, with cattle and ducks and a horse ... it's splendid. I'm aiming to write a lot, and to finish some of the books on my summer reading list. I'll catch up with all you catts in a week or so. Peace.

Your name is Gay Fokker?

2005-07-02T09:44:00.000-07:00

I went to the Gaylord Texan hotel last night. I can honestly say that I've never seen anything like it in my life. There are three large "atrium" areas (as pictured above), which I would compare to something from the movies "BioDome" or "The Truman Show."

Get this -- the atrium we passed through simulated Texas landscape. Wait ... what? Isn't there something wrong with that? We're in Texas. Why the hell would I stay in a hotel that simulates the Texas outdoors? I suppose the Gaylord is the only place you can experience both "the great outdoors" and high-class living all at once.

All that just kind of freaked me out. And let's add to that the fact that it covers more land area than any structure I've ever seen. There is NO reason for a structure that big to exist. It's not even close to anything, geographically ... maybe Bass Pro Shops. I suppose you stay at the Gaylord for the sake of staying there. Instead of saying, "Let's go to the mountains for vacation," I guess people say, "Let's go spend money at the Gaylord."

This, friends, along with my obnoxiously cynical attitude, is why God will soon destroy the earth.

9:30 p.m. - Common Grounds

2005-06-29T22:07:00.000-07:00

So I'm playing tonight (Thursday) with Marshall, 9:30 p.m. at Common Grounds. All you Waco catts ought to come and check it out. I'm playing the drums. Yeah, that's right. And it's pretty entertaining.

Holy crap

2005-06-28T12:39:00.000-07:00

There's another Zorro movie coming out. I'm a big fan.

Bring in da noise, bring in da funk

2005-06-25T20:42:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the most retarded day ever. I'll call it "rip-off" day. I was ripped off twice.

1. I received an item in the mail I'd ordered off ebay.com. It was a joke ... a load of crap. What would have been a cool gift turned out to be an embarrassment. So, I left "negative feedback" on the ebay seller's profile and sent him a harsh e-mail. What a crook. Then today, he left negative feedback on mine, JUST because I had done it to him. But I was fair with mine ... he was retarded. So I'm kind of pissed off about that at the moment.

2. My beloved Exxon Coffee Haus, believe it or not, is on my blacklist. I'm calling all lovers of justice to boycott this establishment. After running with Kristen, we went to Subway. Because I wasn't in the mood for Subway, I got a normal-sized Eskimocha (basically a coffee slurpee). It couldn't be more than, what, $1.25? That makes sense, right? There were no prices posted, so I just assumed. Well, I saunter up to the counter, and the girl tells me "That'll be $3.78" ... Are you kidding? It's like ice and air! So I'm quite pissed at the Exxon station right now ... Let's put 'em out of business.

In other news, I've lost the will to function like a normal human. I spend my days inside musical notes, lying on the floor of my dark apartment.

Have a great week!

Wicked cool.

2005-06-24T11:14:00.000-07:00

Marshall and I shot a couple rolls of film for a promotional poster. HERE are my picks.

Somewhere only we know

2005-06-22T11:38:00.000-07:00

I've spent the past three afternoons on the telephone, trying to book a tour for the fall. Rather frustrating. I really should pay myself for these services.

2005-06-20T16:04:00.000-07:00

I was running on the BearTrail an hour or so ago, and a car drives past on my left. A lad leaned out the passenger window and yelled at me, "Go watch the baseball game, you faggot."

2005-06-20T10:22:00.000-07:00

-Two slices of toast
-Miracle Whip
-Sliced avocado
-Sliced tomato
-Salt
-Pepper

= lunch

2005-06-13T10:36:00.000-07:00

My dad. Thought I'd share this with you. I love it.

Hello there, Friends.

2005-06-11T07:46:00.000-07:00

Well, since we last spoke, I've settled into a new apartment (Fairmont #109, at 5th and James). There's strange artwork, blue lights and Catholic iconography all over the place. My kind of town. The Bush and I have begun a coffee table book ... kinda ... It's a photo album of random visitors sitting on our couch. Makes a good coffee table book, I'd say. So all yall's needs to stop by and get your picture taken.

I've opted to free myself from the clutches of the internet, and thus I have installed no such services in my new apartment. This way, I'm forced to go to the library to check e-mail and all that ... so I'll be wasting much less of my time. Unfortunately for you, dear reader, this also means that I'll be blogging considerably less often. But it's cool. I'm clensing myself.

Speaking of clensing ... Bush and I went for about 5 days with no electricity. I must say, it was much more exciting that I had anticipated. And, luckily, our apartment stayed relatively cool.

I have so far spent this, the Summer of 2005, reading, going to class, playing piano, moving furniture, running, drinking protein shakes, and spending time with friends. End of paragraph.

This Thursday, I'm going to see Ryan Adams and the Cardinals at Stubb's in Austin. I don't think I could be any more excited. I promise I'll post my concert review/response shortly thereafter.

I'll be attending a wedding tonight ... Don't think I'll post a response to that. But maybe I will. You never know.

Two days ago, thinking I would purchase a banjo, myself and the Bush headed to Laverty's. I did not, in fact, leave with a banjo. Rather, I left with a strange instrument I'll define as a hybrid two-octave piano and lap steel. I'll have to post some pictures of that little guy. I think it's homemade ... There were two at Laverty's, along with an old concert poster. The artist billed on the poster was the owner (and perhaps the designer/builder) of these wacky music machines.

I'm all out. See you kids later.

They're back.

2005-05-26T13:30:00.000-07:00

Guess who fell off the wagon again? Yeah, I'm re-addicted to "Friends." It's all I can think about. I'm trying real hard to hold myself back from buying Season 5 on DVD.

To prove that I'm not totally pathetic, here are a few recent pictures ...

Summer lovin'

2005-05-25T12:02:00.000-07:00

You thought I gave that up ... nope. I got the cliff-jumping itch on Saturday, so I threw Stephen in the car and hauled it up to Lake Whitney. The cliffs were crowded with high school kids, but it was still worth the trip. We made a few jumps, waved at park rangers, and ate some catfish. Goodtimes on Saturday. Good, good times.

And because you know I can't help myself, I went to El Tapatio Taqueria today for a Torta Al Pastor. Delicious. Much-needed summer fun.

If I had anything else interesting to say, I would say it.

The Cycle

2005-05-19T14:40:00.000-07:00

I work with at-risk 7th graders at Brazos Middle School, and today was the first day I wanted to punch one of them in the face.

Carlos is an absurdly effiminate hispanic student who could, indeed, be repeating the 7th grade for the third time if he doesn't get his act together. Carlos is smart enough to do his work, but he refuses to focus. Instead of working on his Texas history assignments today, he complained of thirst (in an annoyingly gay voice), took his shoes off, and sang a song about fairies. He wasted 10 minutes running around the school, myself close on his heels, and asking random teachers for paper. When one teacher refused his request and scolded him for interrupting her class, Carlos kicked and beat on the door.

He's a nice kid. Annoying as hell, but nice. Today, however, I couldn't stand him, and I'm sure the look on my face reflected my irritation with him.

How do you make a difference with people who refuse to cooperate? Do you ignore his cries for attention, hoping he'll resolve to do his work himself? Is it better to be stern, so he'll move ahead in life, or to be his friend, since he doesn't seem to have too many?

Kids like Carlos make my volunteering efforts seem fruitless and desolate.

But Carlos isn't the only one. That school has no hope. Students run down the hallways, hit one another with shoes, scream, fight, backtalk teachers ... it's unreal. Should I have any faith in what I'm doing? Will even one kid be less of a hoodlum because of the time I've spent with them?

Travis, with whom I've worked for a year, has been in alternative school for weeks. He got in a fight with the campus police officer. There's no control, no order. Brazos Middle School is a place to temporarily hold back terror from the surrounding neighborhoods. In a few years, these kids will run wild in the streets, carrying guns, killing one another, having babies, and draining the good from society. There is no hope. Our efforts are futile.

Eccentric, 21-year-old white guys can't be role models for black middle-schoolers in the heart of the Waco ghetto.

Down by the sea

2005-05-11T15:48:00.000-07:00

So I got an e-mail from Ezra O'Leary (of New Zealand), who has purchased both my records on CDBaby.com. Her message outlined a number of reasons I should pursue a fanbase in New Zealand, and contained the following line:

"Oh, and if it's any more incentive, I think the groupie action you could get down here would be amazing."

That really tickled my funny bone. I had to share it with you.

Hope finals went well for you. Mine ended yesterday, so now the fun (moving) can begin. So wherever you are ... have a delightful week.

2005-05-08T22:22:00.000-07:00

Oooh yeah, that's tasty.

You're kidding me

2005-05-05T00:09:00.000-07:00

New photos - from the Lubbock road trip and other fantastic events. Click here.

In other news: I have my first final exam tomorrow at 2. Yikes. Chemistry in Society. Then I'm heading to Dallas for a bit. I'm playing three shows this weekend ... two in North Dallas, one in Waco. Here's the rundown:

Friday, April 6th
Plano, TX
8 p.m.
The Coffee Haus
(15th and Ave. K)

Saturday, April 7th
McKinney, TX
Noon
Backstage Coffee
(downtown)

and

Saturday, April 7th
Waco, TX
9:30 p.m.
Common Grounds

See ya on the flipside.

2005-05-03T21:46:00.000-07:00

Beautiful album. I picked this little puppy up today, and I love it.

I also began packing up my apartment. There are boxes all over the place, and books stacked to the sky. Mmm hmmm.

2005-05-03T05:12:00.000-07:00

Crawl in to eat,
crawl away to die.

Thank you, Raid, for killing the ants in my room.

Boo yeah

2005-05-02T09:24:00.000-07:00

And where did all the ants come from? There's no telling. Going to buy some ant traps today.

On the way back from Lubbock, we stopped and picked up fossils on the side of a plateau. Some pretty delightful little critters. Pictures will come shortly.

The last day of class is soon to begin. More on that later.

2005-04-27T09:11:00.000-07:00

"I'm gonna learn to play the pennywhistle. I don't care what you say."

-Michael Doss, my roommate, about 10 minutes ago.

For some reason, that struck me as being insanely humorous.

Wish you were here

2005-04-26T22:21:00.000-07:00

These Asians look like they're having fun. I had a wild craving to go to Disneyland today. It was crazy.

iTunes Music Store card

2005-04-25T16:07:00.000-07:00

You catts remember this gal? Yeah, well, she's back. And she's bringin' hell with her.

Dreams

2005-04-21T09:33:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here at my desk before Brit Lit, and I decided to fill you in on life. Thankful? You should be.

Anyway, I had a series of really crazy dreams last night. In one dream, I was on my way to A&M to play at a party for a black fraternity. Which is random. But on the way, my car broke down in Oklahoma(?) and I stopped at a little church to get help. Turns out they all knew me, and assumed I was doing a show for them that night. To make things even stranger, Blake and Steve Collins were both there. We spent a lot of time setting up sound equipment, and then I ended up not having time to play. It was a terribly frustrating dream.

And two nights ago, I dreamed that it was my birthday, and this girl I hardly know took me to Popeye's Chicken. Weird. Later the same night, I was somehow on a road trip to Las Vegas with my family.

Well, I've done a lot of reading and stuff this week ... Read Walt Whitman for American Lit. He's great. I wasn't crazy about his stuff before, but I really enjoyed Leaves of Grass.

In the next week, I've got two giant research-type papers due. Suuucks. So that's my agenda for the next seven days.

Friday night, I'm playing in College Station, at The Coffee Station on Harvey Road. 9 p.m. Tell your friends.

I'll leave you with some words from Whitman ...

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
but I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre yuor blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.

2005-04-17T15:02:00.000-07:00

I've been really intrigued lately by the stories of depression-era laborers - and especially by the story of Ragtown.

When workers came to build the Hoover Dam (as pictued above), they set up a city a few miles from the site. Ragtown was lost, however, when the dam gates closed and the reservior was flooded. The city, along with all it's memories and ghost stories, sits at the bottom of a deep lake. That's spooky to me, and I like it. I like the idea that all those secrets are covered with water.

For a good time call

2005-04-13T09:04:00.000-07:00

THURSDAY NIGHT! (Diadeloso)

Seasons 3:1 Cafe - at 9 p.m.
in Baylor's North Village

Me and my guitar will be all up in ya face. Come out and bring your friends. You know you wannna.

More information ...

(Photo by Ryan Mock)

I'm gonna get you, sucka.

2005-04-10T14:23:00.000-07:00

A big ol' mess of pictures at ThePhotoHat. Check 'em out.

The weekend

2005-04-07T09:12:00.000-07:00

Here are my plans for the next few days. Tell your friends. For real.

Thursday, April 7th - 9 p.m.
Ridglea and Vine Wineroom
(on Camp Bowie, above LaMadeline)
Ft. Worth, TX
with Mark Philpot

Friday, April 8th - 8 p.m.
Borders Books & Coffee
(in Norman Center Court)
Norman, OK
with my bad self

and of course ...

Saturday, April 9th - 8 p.m.
Borders Books & Coffee
(HWY 30 and Hulen)
Ft. Worth, TX
with Marshall Hooper

And some other interesting news ... I have an appointment this afternoon to get a haircut. Yikes. It'll be maybe my second or third professional haircut ever. Let it be known - I am nervous.

2005-04-05T15:07:00.000-07:00

"The fiend in his own shape is less hideous than when he rages in the breast of man."

-Nathaniel Hawthorne, Young Goodman Brown

Memories

2005-04-04T22:37:00.000-07:00

Arley drew this picture about one year ago. Thanks, Arley.

Chillin'

2005-03-30T19:42:00.000-08:00

Here's another tasty little dish for ya. I'll give a nickel to the first person to name all the folks in this picture. Three go to Baylor, one is soon to be married, and one is a compulsive liar.

Yeah, that's a lot of fun. I swear I'll stop with the nostalgia thing soon enough. But I found this last weekend, and I just couldn't pass it up. Too good.

A little treat

2005-03-29T12:32:00.000-08:00

Over the weekend, I stumbled upon this exquisite collection of old ID cards. Thus, I have decided to share them with you, my friends. Enjoy.

Wasn't that marvelous? I think I'm high in that last picture. Seventh grade, baby. And I'm just crazee thugged out in that Six Flags photo. Memories.

Don't forget to check out the new photos at ThePhotoHat.

In ya face

2005-03-28T22:53:00.000-08:00

Exciting photographs are here. Check 'em out.

Easter was delightful ... filled with good conversations and much-needed time with friends and family. I brought some pretty sweet little artifacts back with me ... "tokens from the past," if you will. I'll try to post those ASAP.

Until then, I've got all kinds of tests and stuff this week. Take care.

Quiz party

2005-03-23T20:57:00.000-08:00

Thanks to all who participated in the discussion on that last post. I really wanted to hear some other thoughts.

Since you're all so amazing, here are two quizzes you can take to see how well you know me.

Here's one.

And here's another.

Have a delightful Easter holiday.

We slept right through it

2005-03-20T09:52:00.000-08:00

In Luke, chapter 16, Jesus tells the story of a rich man who lives an oppulent lifestyle and neglects to help the poor beggar, Lazarus. The rich man burns in hell for eternity.

This was the topic of discussion in our service this morning. The last time I felt overwhelmed by the subject of moral obligation, my brain stopped working. It was in my Christian Ethics class ... All of the sudden, I felt that life had too many complications ... so I just checked out for a couple of days.

But this time, I feel sane enough to face the issue head on. The parable in Luke 16 poses a serious question for affluent Americans like myself. Will I indeed burn in hell if I don't sell all I have and give to the poor? This question cannot be pushed aside as a little Sunday School hypothetical exercise in ethics - It requires a complete about-face in lifestyle.

I began to ponder how much money I spent in the past week ... on meals I didn't enjoy, luxuries I didn't appreciate, and plain crap I didn't need. We went on a ski trip as a church ... a ski trip. If that isn't a luxury, I don't know what is. Forty people, multiplied by, oh, $400 per person. That's $16,000 worth of Spring Break vacation. Did it change my life? No. It's a good memory (since I don't have enough of those). But that money could have made a world of difference to someone who really needed it.

Was our church ski trip a sin? We can write it off as "a good time of fellowship" or "growing as a community" ... but is that all just a load of crap? Are we just giving ourselves excuses to waste money and not feel guilty about it?

This message hit me hard, as you can tell. It can't be written off by the "well, I don't believe in God so this doesn't apply to me" excuse. It has to do with being a human, not just being a Christian. Those of us who live in affluence have our physiological needs met. When those are met, we desire love, acceptance, community ... we desire to adventure and create. But we use our resources to meet those higher needs, and we forget that much of the world lives (and dies) in poverty and starvation.

Waco is a perfect little dichotomy. One culture is made up of those who live on the street in starvation. The other culture has far too much, and wastes it on pure shit. Why do we need DVD players and 8mm cameras and records and iPods and picture frames and Sunday lunches at McAlister's and Instant Messenger and baseball games and books about the history of art. Even this damn computer ...

Our needs are met. We're bored. So instead of using our blessings to feed the hungry, we spend thousands to entertain ourselves for a week.

"But I give to the church." Yes, so we can listen to pretty music and eat doughnuts in an ornate, air-conditioned building and show off our fancy Sunday clothes. If we truly were wise stewards of our resources, things would look different around our churches. I can't imagine that God cares one bit for worship from a self-absorbed congregation with twisted values.

This issue doesn't just apply to Christians. If it did, I wouldn't pay so much attention to it. You know that. But this is a part of being a human, and living in community with six billion other people, many of whom don't have food to feed their children. Christians should be the first to willingly sacrifice for the poor. Otherwise, our faith is worthless to the outside world.

We can create excuses. I do it all the time. I reason away my inclination to give to the ten million homeless people in Waco. "They'll waste it on booze." Wouldn't you? They have no hope of climbing out of poverty ... they might as well forget their problems. Sometimes a good work ethic and minimum wage just doesn't cut it. They know it, and they've resigned themselves to it as "inevitable."

In the same way, we resign ourselves to burn in hell. We know we can't change our lifestyles. Following Christ's commands takes more than dropping a dime in the Salvation Army bucket or writing a check each month to World Vision. In our hearts, we know we can't change. We know we're going to hell. The little donations to Goodwill just make us feel better.

Jesus wasn't kidding.

"Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God."

Hit me with your best shot

2005-03-19T18:59:00.000-08:00

Get your own "Jesus Lollipop" here.

Days on the road

At 3 a.m. this morning, a busload of weary Baptists arrived at the FBC Waco parking lot. I don't remember much about the last leg of the journey, because the miracle drug "Dramamine" knocked me out for the final four hours. It was glorious. For those of you who fall asleep easily in a moving vehicle, you'll never know how satisfying that feeling is ... when you wake up and realize that yes, you did indeed fall asleep on a bus.

The trip home was a tad rough. Despite clear skies and good roads, we managed to get our charter bus stuck in a mudhole between a ranch gate and a cattleguard, a few miles out of Raton, New Mexico. On a dirt road, mind you. I don't even think I can explain it ... That was the most random "sticky situation" ever ... yeah ...

Double the freshness, fun

I'm reading a book called Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: an Introduction by my dear friend, Jerome David Salinger. This catt knows how to develop characters. I wasn't crazy about this double-novel when I started it, but I'm obsessed with it now. Both of the stories focus on the Glass family, about whom Salinger wrote multiple books and short stories. It's really interesting to gather aspects of these characters through all the different accounts and perspectives. The book Franny and Zooey is about the same family. So good.

I'm always amazed when I talk to people who've never read any Salinger. He's my absolute favorite. I loaned my beloved copy of Catcher in the Rye to a friend over Spring Break. If you need to read Salinger, let me know. I'll hook you up. If you'd like to discuss Salinger, let's talk.

Time for a shower. I went for a little Saturday night trek on the BearTrail, and now I smell like it.

The eye of the tiger

2005-03-13T13:13:00.000-08:00

So FBC Waco is going on a ski trip to Red River ... We leave tonight at 10 p.m. I'm not crazy about driving all night, but I have Thoreau, Salinger and Dramamine to keep me company.

I bought the latest Tom Waits album (pictured above). It's much scarier than "Mule Variations," which was pretty friggin' scary. I'll listen to this puppy on the bus tonight until I fall asleep ... and then wake up from multiple nightmares. This newest album, "Real Gone," is described as "gospel music flipped inside out -- an unholy voice, singing about the conspicuous absence of divine mercy." What I love about "Mule Variations" is that it's terrifying, yet punctuated by redeeming beauty. I can't seem to find the light in "Real Gone."

Tom Waits is an interesting guy. He's been recording music and acting since the early '70s, plus he's a great writer. His work is full of grotesque characters and darkness, which makes him a sort of contemporary musical version of Poe. But his stuff is always cutting-edge, even thirty years into his career. If you're interested in his music, go buy either "Mule Variations" (1999), "Bone Machine" (1992) or "Rain Dogs" (1985).

My family came to Waco yesterday. We ate brunch at Cracker Barrel, and the server dropped my mom's plate and broke it. Everyone stared. After passing a couple of hours at my apartment, we took a little trip to the Cameron Park Zoo. Delightful. I took a roll of pictures, most of which looked like crap.

We had an early dinner at "El Siete Mares" on Dutton Ave. It's this hole-in-the-wall Mexican seafood place, so - needless to say - it was outstanding. I had mahi-mahi and shrimp, sauteed in peppers and butter and lemon (or something like that). It was served with rice and vegetables. Awesome. $15-20 will get you the finest and most filling seafood meal this side of the Brazos. On a scale of 1-10, if Joe's Crap Shack is a "3" (and that's being generous), El Siete Mares is a "10,000" ... I swear.

This picture has nothing to do with anything. I just liked it.

I suppose I'll peace out right about now. I've a long list of things to do for this trip ... and miles to go before I sleep ... and miles to go before I sleep ...

Ate a pie?

2005-03-07T16:43:00.000-08:00

That's right. I've posted a new set of pictures at The Photo Hat. Enjoy.

And I think this is pretty interesting.

Just living life right now. Yeah ...

A Song

2005-03-06T15:29:00.000-08:00

Let it be known: Alison Krauss has revived my soul.

Oops

2005-02-28T10:46:00.000-08:00

In my last post, I mentioned a show in Lubbock this weekend. What I neglected to mention is that it's on Friday night. So here are ALL the details.

PLACE: Sugar Brown's (4818 50th Street)
Date: Friday, March 4th
TIME: 8:30 p.m.
CITY:Lubbock, TX
with THE Marshall Hooper

Tell yo' peeps.

Postcards, letters, and long-distance calls

2005-02-27T17:20:00.000-08:00

Fly music you should check out. Thanks, weekend.

Doug Burr

I'm a big fan of Doug Burr. Really swell alt-gospel stuff. I saw him play last night, and I picked up a copy of his "solo debut" (he is also the frontman for The Lonelies). But Steve Collins produced that record, and it's splendid. Just splendid.

Ray Lamontagne

Check out Ray Lamontagne. Some pretty sweet tunes. Sarah played me some of his stuff in January, and every time I see Steve Collins, he talks about him. Ethan Johns produced Ray's new record. And his real name is Raycharles. Yeah. After Ray Charles.

Other stuff ...

I played in College Station on Friday night, and it was hella-sweet. Much fun. Blake played the djembe/tamborine/shaker ... he's a stud. And let's just talk about that Diff'rent Strokes theme song ... None of those silly Aggies knew what it was. I just got a bunch of blank stares ... Anyway, I didn't have to sleep on Blake's floor this time, because all of Kyle's suitemates were out of town. We watched "Back To The Future," which is still awesome.

If anybody cares, "The Storms Inside" is up on CDBaby.com. It might say "out of stock," but I shipped more. So they should arrive. Believe it. I sold a few of those suckers in College Station this weekend, which was nice. I'm playing in Lubbock next weekend with Marshall Hooper. So if you know anyone in Lubbock, tell them to show up at Sugar Brown's (4818 50th Street) at 8:30 p.m.

I had lunch with some McKinney peeps today, and certainly enjoyed myself. Jess and I talked about the clubs and stuff we made up as kids. And also that we buried a time capsule one year at Thanksgiving, and dug it up at Christmas.

Together we'll be fine ...

2005-02-25T16:37:00.000-08:00

I'm playing in College Station tonight, and I'm doing the theme song from the above television show. Mess yeah.

Only connect ...

2005-02-22T22:16:00.001-08:00

If you possess even the slightest love for art, read this quote a few times. Chew on it. Don't be afraid ...

The poet, in utter solitude remembering his spontaneous thoughts and recording them, is found to have recorded that which men in crowded cities find true for them also. The orator distrusts at first the fitness of his frank confessions, his want of knowledge of the persons he addresses, until he finds that he is the compliment of his hearers; that they drink his words because he fulfils for them their own nature; the deeper he dives into his privatest, secretest presentiment, to his wonder he finds this is the most acceptable, most public, and universally true. The people delight in it; the better part of every man feels, This is my music; this is myself.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson, "The American Scholar"

Now read that again. It's beautiful.

It's strange

2005-02-21T18:51:00.000-08:00

What I need right now is a midnight walk in a vibrant city. I'm feeling really detached from my culture.

Christmoustache?

2005-02-19T02:57:00.000-08:00

Yep. You thought you saw the last of it. Here's more.

You can't get enough ...