If I die in such a strange and drug-related way that Rolling Stone is interested in reporting it, I hereby state that they are not allowed to do so unless they work in the phrase “seamy underground world of webcomics.”
Month: August 2002
Tomorrow I am finally moving back to Centre. TOMORROW I am FINALLY moving BACK.
You can tell it’s serious because my computer is unplugged.
I’ve been wanting to go back for what seems like forever, and not just for broadband. Not much has happened, really, but this still feels like it’s been a summer of Homeric proportions. I don’t know, maybe we’re starting later than usual this year. I guess I wouldn’t want it any other way. Tomorrow I’m really a senior.
P.S. Today’s IdiotCam© has been one of myfavorite jokes since fourth grade. I’m almost glad Mom bought one of the stupid things, since I cannow finally capture it in low-quality digital form.
Today is my sister’s birthday! Caitlan is eighteen! Happy birthday, Caitlan!
In other news, Sumana has frequently plugged Bookfinder, a kickin’ service that, well, finds books. It’s kind of like the “network of bookstores” that Amazon uses to find out-of-print books, only much, much better. I was reading some of her comments on the service and how cool it was, and I kept thinking “gee, I wish I had a rare or used book that I was looking for.”
A couple days later, I was surprised to remember that I WAS looking for such a book, and had been for three years–Orson Scott Card’s short story omnibus, Maps In A Mirror. Bookfinder turned up several copies, all of which were too expensive at the moment, of course, but most of which were still cheaper than the few an Amazon search turned up two years ago.
So I went away satisfied, but came back tonight when I remembered a book that this amazing girl had showed me at a convention. The book is Anthropology, and it’s one of those forced-restriction masterpieces: 101 stories, each 101 words long. What I got to read of it was fantastic, and I wanted my own copy, but I remembered she’d said it was out of print.
Which it is–but tonight I found it for just ten bucks with shipping, and bought it. Thanks to Bookfinder! Hooray, Bookfinder!
Someday I will invent a tiny device that consists entirely of a wound radio antenna, a one-tone speaker, a battery, and some adhesive. I will then attach these devices to every single thing I own. When I’m done with that, I will assign each device a unique low-watt radio band all for itself, and put together a remote control that can broadcast on any of those bands. The remote will be voice-operated, and keyed to my voice, so that all I have to say is “where is my {stupid, fucking, blue} CD case?” and the device attached to that CD case sets off a furious beeping. Maybe THEN I won’t LOSE THINGS SO OFTEN.
(Hypothetical problem #1: What happens when I lose the remote? I guess I could create a secondary backup remote to find the first, but that way madness lies.)
The Gin Blossoms were here. Here. Last night. I saw the Gin Blossoms last night. Here.
I put up a brave front, but the fact is I know almost nothing about music. This is a vast improvement over, say, 1998, when I knew literally nothing about music (embarrassing anecdote: I once asked Erika “So, what other songs has U2 put out besides ‘With or Without You?'”).
So 98-99 was my Big Into Gin Blossoms period. I actually own their greatest hits (only they could make their third album a greatest hits album [for the record, a couple of non-hits on there aren’t bad]). I knew nothing about pop or instrumentation or songs that had more than three chords, and they were a lot of fun to listen to. This was right after they broke up, I believe, and “Hey Jealousy” was still likely to get a cheer if it came on the radio.
It is frankly bizarre to think that I saw them live in concert last night. Granted, EKU is a large school, and it’s kind of surprising they don’t get more bands, really. I think Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds were here once.
Anyway, my friend Erin (Michalik), an RA comrade for two years running, called me at 6 and asked if I’d be willing to go see the Gin Blossoms for free. We got there as they were finishing their first song (“Follow You Down,” naturally) and there were like a hundred people there.
A hundred people. At a Gin Blossoms concert.
Maybe another twenty people arrived during the whole show. The Coliseum can hold something like two thousand. This is not the saddest part. No, that would be the lead singer actually asking people to try stage-diving. Or trying to run out into the crowd with a corded mike. Or getting said mike tangled around the chair he stood on (making him roughly my height). Or the fact that he dressed like he really wanted to be in The Strokes.
I felt bad for them, really. What’s it like to play to audiences of thousands, then break up, then get back together and find yourself playing for a hundred dispassionate kids at Eastern Kentucky University? Granted, this is probably just karma catching up to them for selling the same song so many times, but still.
I did have a lot of fun, in a surreal kind of way, and it was nice to hear the songs–exactly the way they sound on the albums, but much louder–again. It was good to see Erin again too.
I feel better for Angie. The man’s playing to crowds nearly as big as the Gin Blossoms, for Pete’s sake. Also, they both do Rocket Man, and Angie does it a lot better.
Right now it’s showering sideways, and the wind is blowing so hard the water is going up the hill. Yesterday it was a lot harder. The picnic table almost flipped off the deck, and the first tree we planted when we moved here split. It’s not exactly down the middle, because the trunk is mostly intact, but about half the branches are sheared off in one big clump.
The tree looks lopsided now, of course. The other half is still lying on the ground on the lawn,and I keep looking at it like it’s an open wound. Which it is, I guess. I want to cut the dying part off and drag it behind the house, to patch up the torn part with tar, but it’s raining now and Mom says it’s going to die anyway.
I just finished The Bean Trees. I don’t go back to school until the 25th.