The Big Green House

Thursday, October 31, 2002

 

I was in the house when the house burned down

Something I forgot to mention last night: while we were waiting for the results of my various blood tests, I kept thinking of Warren Zevon songs, specifically, �My Shit�s Fucked Up� and "Life�ll Kill Ya", from Life�ll Kill Ya. It was very helpful, actually. Big scary things have to be mocked in order to be dealt with. It works for me, anyway. I wish there were some way in which I could return the favor, as Mr. Zevon is facing really big scary things these days. I don�t imagine he needs much help mocking what�s going on, of course. I�m glad I was at least able to catch the very tail end of his appearance on Letterman last night. He was playing �Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner�. It seemed to fit, in a way I couldn�t explain.

bmarkey 10/31/2002 06:54:00 PM

Wednesday, October 30, 2002

 

My Brain Hurts

So, I spent most of yesterday evening in the emergency room at Swedish Hospital in Ballard. Not as much fun as it sounds, but not as unpleasant as it might have been.

To begin our story at the beginning: I�ve been having headaches in the late afternoon for several days. Nothing real wild, and I can usually knock them down with aspirin or ibuprofen. I noticed one coming on yesterday as I was getting ready for work, so I popped a couple of aspirins & went about my business.

By the time I�d been at work for an hour or two, my head was really throbbing. (Yesterday�s post was written in this state, as a matter of fact.) Maybe I was just hungry; I usually take my dinner break around 6:30, so I thought I�d just grit my teeth & tough it out.

Which is what I was doing when things got much worse very fast. It felt as if someone had stuck an ice pick into my left temple, and then spent the next hour twisting it back and forth*. This struck me as being a bad thing to have happen. In fact, I believe I remarked upon it; if I recall correctly, I said something to the effect of, �OOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!! AGGGGGGGGGHH!!!! AGGGGGH!!� It�s hard to be sure, but I don�t think that that�s too far off.

Needless to say, it was difficult to comport myself in a businesslike manner while this was going on, so after a consultation by phone with Science Girl, who in turn called the consulting nurse service, it was decided that perhaps I�d be better off at the hospital. My friend Melissa, who lives nearby, was kind enough to give me a ride.

Science Girl arrived soon after I did, so we got to go through the examination procedure together. I�m very glad she was there, especially while they were drawing blood. Let me state now, for the record, that I am an absolute wimp when it comes to my blood being anywhere but in my body. I�m just no good that way.

Long story short(ish), they ruled out meningitis and mostly ruled out migraine; the official diagnosis was �inflammation of the temporal artery�, although they couldn�t absolutely guarantee that that�s what it was. They gave me a shot of some super-ibuprofen in my ass & said that, should I need to, I could take 800 mg of ibuprofen with food. So that�s what I�m doing & that�s where we are now. I'm still not at the top of my game, but I no longer feel as if my brain is trying to leave my head.

I�d like to thank Melissa for being a great friend and Science Girl for being a great girlfriend. They made an unpleasant few hours much more bearable.

*(Well, OK, I don�t know exactly what that feels like. If I did, I probably wouldn�t be typing this; I doubt I�d be manipulating anything more high-tech than a Crayola, if I were not in fact taking a sod siesta. I think you�ll allow me a little hyperbole here though, won�t you? No? OK, it hurt like a motherfucker. There. Satisfied?)



bmarkey 10/30/2002 05:45:00 PM

Tuesday, October 29, 2002

 

Ale Tailspin

The rollout of the Xmas ales continues. This week it�s Redhook�s Winterhook.

Redhook was my introduction to the incredibly hoppy northwest brewing style. They say they haven�t changed their recipes at all since signing the distribution deal with Budweiser. Yeah, just like the impending war with Iraq has nothing to do with Dubya�s daddy.

Well, I decided to give it a try anyway. I�ve started this little project, so I might as well see it through. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say.

My verdict: in a word, ick. There�s this weird medicinal aftertaste that just kills the party. It�s a pretty dark copper color and the body is nice, but unless you�re keen on cough syrup (and I know some folks are), give it a miss.

If you�re keeping score at home, that makes three failures and one disappointment. Either everybody is blowing it this year or my palate is shot to hell. Honestly, I could see it going either way. I burned my tongue on some soup awhile back, so maybe I killed off all my tastebuds. To be fair, I�m going to give everything another taste in a week or two; if anybody�s score improves, I�ll note it here.

bmarkey 10/29/2002 05:53:00 PM

Monday, October 28, 2002

 

Odds & Sods

There was no post on Friday because I was really, deeply, unpleasantly cranky. After a mostly good weekend, I return to you fresh & full of joie de vive. Or maybe I�m full of eau d�cologne - I don�t actually speak French, so whichever one seems appropriate is the one I meant.

I say it was a mostly good weekend because all went well except for the World Series. Can anyone explain to me just what the hell happened Saturday night? The Giants had that thing sewn up, ahead by five runs going into the bottom of the seventh. How do you blow a lead like that? And then they just got their asses handed to them yesterday. What happened to Livan Hernandez? Was it voodoo? Christ that was painful to watch. But then, there is no pain which matches that of being a Giants fan.

Other than that, though, it was a fine autumn weekend, if somewhat on the cold & dry side. We need rain & we need it now. We actually had to water some of our trees, which is just so weird to be doing in October. At least we�re getting lots of fog. Fog will always make me happy. It just won�t do much for the yard, I�m afraid.

I made a tape for myself on Saturday, while Science Girl was out. I used quite a few cuts off of a Bloodshot Records sampler I received along with a recent order I�d made with Miles of Music. I�ve yet to hear anything on Bloodshot that wasn�t at least interesting, and that�s saying something. If you�re not familiar with the label, they�re home to Neko Case, Kelly Hogan, Robbie Fulks, Split Lip Rayfield, The Meat Purveyors, The Waco Brothers� Ok, I�m not going to go through the whole roster, but there�s a hell of a lot of really good stuff here. It�s as if rock & roll and country had a booze-soaked liason in some cheap Chicago motel, a dirty weekend which neither would own up to in public but which both believed, deep in their hearts, to be the best time they�d ever had, if only they could remember it a bit more clearly. Or something like that. Similes are not my strong point. Oh, just go buy the damn CDs already. And while you're at it, order me a T-shirt. I wear a large.

bmarkey 10/28/2002 06:13:00 PM

Thursday, October 24, 2002

 

Maybe it�s me

So I picked up some Jubelale on my way home last night. And it was yummy, just� not as yummy as it has been that last few years. It�s heavy & malty, yet it still has a hint of bitterness, so you don�t think you�ve accidentally picked up one of those alco-pops so popular with the kids these days. And there�s the little bit of spice that makes it an Xmas ale. So what�s missing? Frankly, I don�t know. Maybe it�s my palate that�s off. Maybe I just need to give it another try.

bmarkey 10/24/2002 04:58:00 PM

Wednesday, October 23, 2002

 

Species Change Update

I had a meeting with the dogs today. They were very friendly, as you might imagine, and invited me to play catch with them afterwards. Sadly, however, they said they didn�t have any vacant positions at the moment & weren�t expecting any to open up soon.

The cats, of course, did not return my call.

bmarkey 10/23/2002 06:42:00 PM

Tuesday, October 22, 2002

 

I�m Clappin� and Shoutin�

Until the new species thing kicks in, I suppose I should keep writing while I�ve still got the fingers.

Cowboy Sally was kind enough to send me a jump blues tape a while back. I liked it so much I ordered the City Jump vs Country Jump CD from which most of it had been recorded. Take that, RIAA! (Note well that it took several weeks for my copy to be delivered, so don�t be in a hurry if you decide to pick one up for yourself. I think it�s a pretty small operation, so cut them some slack.)

Jump blues were sort of the transition music from the big band swing era to rock & roll as recognized and practiced around the world. It�s a post-war thing, for the most part. (That�s World War II for those of you scoring at home.) Here�s a quick history of the genre, as it pertains to the roots of R&B. And, as we all know, the roots of R&B are not far at all from the roots of R&R.

So what does the CD sound like? Well, imagine if that aborted swing revival of a couple of years ago had actually, uh, swung. It�s blues, yes, but it�s dance music. The saxophones scream, the drums pound a steady beat and the piano is treated like the percussion instrument that it is. Lyrical topics include the standard �baby left me� and �baby is cheating on me� blues models, (�Lost Baby� and �She Won�t Be True�), as well as several variations on and permutations of �let�s drink a lot of alcohol� (oddly enough, �Let�s Drink Some Whiskey�, along with �Haller�s 89 Whiskey Boogie� and �Beer Bottle Boogie�) and �let�s practice sexual intercourse� (�Let�s Get Together & Make Some Love� and �How About Rocking With Me� spring to mind, although most of these songs have some veiled & not-so-veiled references to bumpin� uglies &/or the pursuit thereof.) The whole thing drips with sin and carnality, which goes a long way toward explaining the appeal for a mild-mannered gent such as myself.

And as Dana so rightly pointed out to me, the names of the bands are worth the price of admission in and of themselves: Piney �Kokomo� Brown & His Blue Flashes, Bumps Myers & His Frantic Five, Vernon Dilworth�s Top Cats, etc. But the real fun is all right there in the grooves, or at least it would be if they made CDs with grooves. Put it on the box & cut a rug with your favorite cat or kitten. It will surely keep those �humans are a drag� blues at bay for awhile.


bmarkey 10/22/2002 09:21:00 PM

 

Big Changes

I�ve been giving it a lot of thought lately, and I�ve come to the conclusion that I don�t want to belong to a species that thinks it�s a good idea, for whatever reason, to blow people up at random. Car bombs, cruise missiles, or rifle slugs, it really doesn�t make much difference. It�s truly bringing me down.

So, I�ve decided to resign my humanity. The paperwork is a pain in the ass, but it�s worth it.

I wonder if the dogs are hiring?

bmarkey 10/22/2002 06:58:00 PM

Monday, October 21, 2002

 
Well, I had most of a review of the new Soft Boys album all worked up, but my computer at home ate it and I am far too tired to try to re-create it now. I�ll take another stab at it tomorrow. In the meantime, could somebody throw me in front of a bus? Please?
bmarkey 10/21/2002 05:28:00 PM

Thursday, October 17, 2002

 

Good Deed: Done

I�ve noticed, since school has really gotten underway, that I�m getting a lot of hits from various search engines, all looking for information on the �greenhouse effect�. I feel kinda bad, in a way, since people seem to be coming here expecting info on a very important topic & all I�ve got is a bunch of shit about pop music & beer. (More of which later on.) Granted, if they�ve read the excerpt that most search engines provide, they know that my scientific knowledge is deficient at best. Still, I feel as if I�m presenting what I�ve heard referred to as an attractive nuisance; I�m distracting people from the important stuff with my jolly japes & jests. In a lame attempt to salve my conscience, then, here are some actual links regarding the greenhouse effect: 1, 2, 3, and 4. That�s it, though. I�m not going to do your homework for you.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled inanity: The early release of Xmas ales continues. The latest to cross my palate was the Pyramid Snowcap Ale. How was it? Malty. Malt, malt, malt, malt. A smidge of some sort of spice, in an infinitesimal amount, and more malt. If there are any hops present, they are disguised as malt. Seriously, this is the most syrupy beverage I�ve ever tasted, outside that one time I thought it would be a good idea to cut out the middleman & drink some straight Coke syrup, thus inducing a three-day-long sugar coma. If you like your ales on the impossibly sweet side, this is the pint for you. Otherwise, do like I�m doing & wait for the Jubelale to hit the shelves. Deschutes usually gets it right.

bmarkey 10/17/2002 06:07:00 PM

Wednesday, October 16, 2002

 
Hi-

Bet you�re wondering where I�ve been. (Even if you�re not, just play along with me.) Well, I�ll tell you some of it; the rest of it is not fit for family viewing.

It�s really pretty simple: some of the folks who work for this company are absolutely, 100% free of any knowledge of the concept of �deadline�. Haven�t heard of it, wouldn�t recognize it if it rode past them backwards on a bicycle. Sadly for me, these same folks are a little higher up the food chain than I am, so their screw-up means I have to go into overdrive to keep things on an even keel. That started Friday & carried over into this week; I think we�re back on track now, but I�m not holding my breath.

Then yesterday, Blogger decided that I really didn�t need to post anything. Perhaps they didn�t think I could top what I�d already put up; while I can understand why they might think that, I wish they�d let me decide when I�m done.

And then there were various and sundry things here & there which, frankly, are not any of your business.

Now, a lesser man than I might have been put out by all this. A lesser man might have bewailed his fate, cursing the gods and rending his garments. Possibly even gnashing his teeth. My friends, I am here to tell you that all men are lesser in comparison to my august self. I laugh at these so-called �setbacks�, I scoff at these pathetic �roadblocks�. See me scoffing? Have you ever seen such grade-A scoffing in your life? No, you haven�t. Don�t lie.

Let this serve as notice to those who would thwart my will: I have the strength of ten men, the intelligence of fifteen, and the stench of twenty � yet my breath remains minty fresh! Fear me, for I am the alpha and the omega, the ruby and the cubic zirconium, the floor wax and the dessert topping. I am Optimus Prime, Yoda, and Superman, all in one irresistibly gorgeous package! The mighty wet themselves in terror at the mention of my name; the powerful line up, in alphabetical order, for the privilege of kissing my rosy pink ass.

When I enter a room full of men, their testicles re-ascend so fast that there is a palpable breeze; when I enter a room full of women, there�s nary a dry seat in the house; when I enter a room full of children, they come running to me as if I were made of creamy nougat covered in a rich chocolate shell. And I am!

I am your worst nightmare and your first wet dream. A day without me is like a day without sunshine, deep in a dank cave, being menaced by large rabid bats. Dread and panic are to me as a light between-meal snack.

Those who oppose me do so at great peril. Tremble at the majesty of my wrath, puny humans! But know, as you quake with fear & soil your underthings, that it will take more than a few minor stumbling blocks to deter me from my manifest destiny. You�ll have to do much better than that.

At least, that�s what I tell myself.

bmarkey 10/16/2002 05:53:00 PM

Thursday, October 10, 2002

 

He sings?

When I was a kid, every Saturday evening we watched The Porter Wagoner Show. It was a syndicated variety featuring the Country & Western star. If you�re unfamiliar with Mr. Wagoner, I�m afraid I can�t help you much beyond this bio. I wouldn�t recognize a note of his music if I heard it. Two things from those shows stand out for me: Porter�s sartorial savoir-faire and his weekly duet with Dolly Parton. Dolly was a little bit more reserved back in the day, as you can tell from the picture with Porter & friends, but she was still, uh� impressive. And Porter�s suits were just as impressive.

I think this was the first place I ever saw the handiwork of Nudie. I�ve wanted a Nudie suit ever since. I don�t know where I�d wear it to, but I�d find somewhere. I generally dress in a fairly subdued manner, but who could say no to this? Not me. I mean, come on.

None of this is likely to happen, since Nudie passed on in 1984. I can still dream, though. And Science Girl does own a sewing machine� think I could talk her into whipping up something like this?

Me neither.

bmarkey 10/10/2002 07:42:00 PM

Wednesday, October 09, 2002

 

Truth

Y'know, I find myself as boring as you do. But at least you get to click somewhere else.
bmarkey 10/09/2002 09:55:00 PM

 

That�s just not right

Last night, as I was doing a little grocery shopping on my way home from work, I saw something which surprised me, and saddened me a bit, too. In the beer case, on sale, was Full Sail�s Wassail, their Xmas beer. (Scroll down almost to the bottom.) It used to be that everybody released their �winter warmer� just before Thanksgiving, but I�ve noticed the releases moving back earlier & earlier each year. This is the first time I recall seeing one available before Halloween, though. I look forward to the Xmas beers each year, but that�s just not playing fair. At least wait until November.

Pathetic beer geek that I am, I went ahead & bought some. It�s good & heavy, very dark, but not spiced at all (that I could tell, anyway). Nothing to write home about, certainly not deserving of an early release, but not at all bad. I�m just disappointed in the brewery for �cheating�, I guess.

Edit: Upon further review, the beer does actually have a little spice to it, although I'd be very hard pressed to tell you what it was. Also, it appears that Full Sail released the Wassail about the same time last year. I guess I just wasn't paying attention. That doesn't make Xmas ale in October a good idea, though.

bmarkey 10/09/2002 05:24:00 PM

Monday, October 07, 2002

 

Known Pleasures

I heard Interpol for the first time today. Granted, I only heard one cut, but still� wasn�t one real Joy Division enough? Why settle for an imitation? I mean, it�s not like the real thing is difficult to track down.

If I seem rash, it�s because I�m just a little un-nerved by the idea of 80�s nostalgia. I realize that I�ve written about a lot of older music here, but please don�t read that as my pining for the days of yore. �Cause, y�know, the days of yore sucked, by and large. It�s very easy to sit here and cherry-pick good music from any era; anyone with a decent set of ears can do that. What needs to be remembered is that shitty bands have always outnumbered the good ones. For every Husker Du there were two Duran Durans. This would also hold true of nostalgia bands. In fact, you�re much more likely to see someone attempting to recreate Duran Duran (poorly) than Husker Du (poorly), because A) it would be easier (lipstick + synths), and B) Duran Duran made a buttload more money than Husker Du.

But that�s not really the point. Well� OK, it�s a point, but not the point. The point is that it�s a mistake to try to recreate either one. Influences should not be templates. They do make great launching pads, though. Make something new; that's what your influences did, or they probably wouldn't be all that influential, would they?

And if that�s not incentive enough to stave off the 80�s revival, I�ll leave you with two words: �hair� and �fashion�.

bmarkey 10/07/2002 09:17:00 PM

Sunday, October 06, 2002

 

Mr. Skin knows where you�ve been

I was an utter failure as an acidhead. I only ever took LSD once, and that was at the insistence of my then-girlfriend (most definitely not Science Girl). I guess it was supposed to be a bonding thing. If so, it didn�t work; we ended up splitting up within a week or two. Perhaps I didn�t pass the acid test? (Tee-hee - I live for lame shit like that. Don�t deny me the simple pleasures.)

All I know is that I was very nervous beforehand, so I talked her into giving me a fairly tiny dose � something like a quarter of a hit. (I believe one �drops acid� by the �hit�. I picked up all my drug lingo from Jack Webb on Dragnet, so I can�t be sure.) We spent the afternoon in Golden Gate Park (and how appropriate is that?) waiting for something to happen. I�m sorry to say that the only effect the drug had on me was to make me talk virtually non-stop. Now, if you�ve ever had a conversation with me (doubtful, but possible), you know just how out-of-character that would be. However, I�ve experienced a similar effect from drinking too much tea in one sitting, with much less stress.

So this was all something of a disappointment, as you might guess. No groovy hallucinations, no enlightenment, no tapping into the group mind, just a supreme case of motor-mouth. Really, though, I �d have to say my biggest regret was not gaining any insight into psychedelic music.

Psychedelia doesn�t generally get a lot of respect, often with very good reason. Self-indulgent tail-chasing guitar solos, unfocused 45 minute jams, and bargain-basement surrealistic &/or drippy-hippy lyrics are the hallmarks of the genre. All those bumper stickers were right - there really wasn�t anything like a Grateful Dead concert, with the possible exception of, say, the thrills & chills of drying paint.

But what if someone found a way to hold on to the reins whilst ripped out of their skull, so to speak? Is cohesive psychedelia an oxymoron? Wonder no more, my friends, for as it turns out, Spirit answered those questions way back in 1970, when it was still kinda relevant. ( Here�s a quick history of the band for those of you who may not know them beyond �I Got A Line On You�.)

The Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus is the most focused unit of lysergic tunefulness I�ve ever come across in all my years of listening to this crap - twelve songs, most of which clock in around the magic three-minute mark. OK, there is �When I Touch You� (5:37), but it stays on topic, as it were, for the entire time. I wouldn�t have known that it was that long if I hadn�t looked at the cover, and I�ve been listening to this album on a fairly regular basis since I was first turned on to it in 1979.

All the usual elements of psychedelia are present and accounted for: backwards tracks (the percussion on �Love Has Found A Way�), sound effects (�Animal Zoo�), guitars ping-ponging between channels (�Prelude/Nothin� To Hide�, �Street Worm�) � they�re all here. What makes this album different is that the effects don�t run amok over the music; the songs don�t get bogged down in out-of-control wankery, as is the wont of so many of their psychedelic brethren. The only real exception is �Space Child� (the title�s a bit of a give-away, isn�t it?), an instrumental excursion by the otherwise excellent keyboardist John Locke on a vintage 1970 synthesizer. It doesn�t really go anywhere, just sorta noodles & farts to an end.

Which is more what you�d expect from a �guitar virtuoso� of that era, anointed by Hendrix himself. I�m happy to report that Randy California�s playing is actually quite restrained. The only real six-string freak-out is at the end of �Street Worm�, and he keeps that nicely in check. Economical leads that actually serve the song, rather than the guitarist�s ego - who�da thunk it possible? If only Grand Funk had been taking notes.

What keeps the whole affair moving forward like a healthy shark is the rhythm section. Ed Cassidy�s drumming is just as nimble as you�d expect from somebody who�s played with Dexter Gordon and Cannonball Adderly, always inventive but never overplayed. The real secret weapon though, the Han Solo flying out of the sun to save that wimpy Luke Skywalker at the last second, is the muscular bass of Mark Andes. How he ended up in Firefall later is beyond me, but he more than makes up for future transgressions on this disc.

Jay Ferguson provides unremarkable lead vocals on most tracks. They�re fine, just nothing to write home about. His real purpose in the band, to my mind, was to ground the more, um, far-out elements of the group in good old American pop music. The original version of Spirit, which would split up after this album, was much more a musician�s band than the back-up ensemble for the singer. Which, if I understand correctly, played directly into Ferguson�s leaving in the first place.

As for the lyrics... well, they�re a product of their time. They are suffused with the somewhat relentless optimism one can only find in music of the psychedelic era. I like this album a lot (if you weren�t sure by now), but a line like �children reaching for a hand/ soldiers killing an Africa man/ though I sing this with si-o-lent tears/ some will fear this with vi-o-lent fears�, from �Love Has Found A Way�, makes me wince every time I hear it. On the other hand, �Nature�s Way� is a fairly elegant meditation on death, ie: �nature�s way of telling you something�s wrong�. (You may have even heard this lovely little tune on your local �classic rock� station. They drag it out about three or four times a year, just to show how expansive their playlist actually is.)

That said, songs like �Mr. Skin� and �Animal Zoo� are fun for the whole family, and �Morning Will Come� rocks like a mofo, mostly due to the crazy soul-revue-style horns. Wait, didn�t I mention the horn section? Oh shit yeah, psychedelia with horns! Did Jerry Garcia ever think of that? No, he didn�t, and if he had it would certainly have sucked ass like it was going out of style. (Sadly, it seems that sucking ass will never go out of style.)

I�ve probably listened to this album somewhere in the neighborhood of 200 times, and I�ve yet to grow tired of it. I don�t mean just certain tracks over and over, but the entire album. I don�t know if that says more about me than it does about Spirit, but either way I highly recommend Dr. Sardonicus. (Pun sort of intended.) Now if you�ll excuse me, I�ve gotta find my way home to the Animal Zoo.


bmarkey 10/06/2002 03:42:00 PM

Friday, October 04, 2002

 
Sorry about the lack of bloggage recently. To be honest, there ain't been a whole hell of a lot for me to write about. I'm working on a piece which is taking longer to put together than I thought it would. Many distractions at work keep me from staying focused. How dare they expect me to do what I'm being paid for! Some people just have screwy priorities.
bmarkey 10/04/2002 06:11:00 PM

Wednesday, October 02, 2002

 

I Am A Marxist

Today was Groucho�s 111th birthday, and I bet you didn�t even send him a card. This should be a gala day for him; if he were still alive, I�m sure he�d say, "Well, a gal a day is enough for me. I don't think I could handle any more." Go out and rent Duck Soup right now. Go, and never darken my towels again!

bmarkey 10/02/2002 09:03:00 PM

 

Penny's, Nordstrom�s, Maggot Brain

We live near a very dubious landmark - the very first mall ever. I am not proud of this fact; neither can I deny it. It is, it exists, and, whether I like it or not, it will likely continue to do so. It�s sort of like the career of Adam Sandler in that respect.

The movie theater in this mall recently shut down, much to Science Girl�s dismay. Fond girlhood memories, etc. We were curious as to what they were going to do with the space, but it seemed most probable that they�d just tear it down & put up another Pottery Barn or something equally as useless.

So imagine my surprise, upon opening today�s newspaper, to see this story staring back at me over my corn flakes. Could it be true? Sure enough. A 2000+ seat venue, within walking distance of my home, soon to play host to George Clinton & whatever version of P-Funk is currently in effect. I like this. We will be in attendance, provided we can get tickets without going through TicketSatan.

It will be interesting to see how this pans out. Parking will obviously not be a problem, and I�m sure the restaurants in the neighborhood are going to be happy. The folks living in the neighborhood may be less happy. The theater is down on the end of the mall near the freeway, but there are some apartments directly across the street from the mall which may be in the line of fire should there be an outburst of drunken revelry. For that matter, the mall itself will possibly be subject to extra littering, vomiting, pissing, etc. I guess a lot of it depends on which acts get booked into the venue. Seattle crowds tend to be pretty mild-mannered, but we�re far enough north from downtown that the dreaded Suburban Effect may come into play. I�ll keep you posted.


bmarkey 10/02/2002 05:52:00 PM

Tuesday, October 01, 2002

 
No, I did not suffer a terminal hangover. I took some time off of work, accomplished absolutely nothing, and now I�m back. There is a semi-largish pile of paperwork demanding my attention, saved for me by thoughtful elves or fairies or something equally mythical.

I will try to put up a proper post later tonight; I�m making no promises, though, so don�t bother suing if I can�t follow through. In the meantime, may I suggest visiting some of the folks in the �linkage� column?

bmarkey 10/01/2002 05:14:00 PM