Wednesday Night Sierra Club

Turning Over the Keys (the end of an era)

2007-09-07T11:27:00.001-04:00

The annual pilgrimage to the Jersey shore was about to get underway if I could only get my transportation situation taken care of. The previous night while dropping Josh off in Dupont I stepped on the brakes and found my foot dropping all the way to the floor. Thank god for up-hills and hand brakes. What better than driving around the beltway at 2 am in a car without functioning brakes?

The time had come to buy my own damn car. The next morning began the era of the Blue/Green. After working out a deal and waiting for everything to get ready it was past time to head to Jersey. So Josh met me at the dealership and we took the Blue/Green straight on it's first road trip. We hit the Jersey shore well after midnight rolling the odometer past 60K at around 11. The Blue/Green era had begun.

That little car saw (and saw me through) a lot. Backpacking trips in Shenandoah, the Jersey Shore, an insane trip to Memphis (over 900 miles each way with Josh and Pete), more than a few trips to NC for gigs and recording sessions (with drum kit), moving to CT with all my stuff (including a drum set and 2 guitars), paddling adventures throughout the northeast (picture a kayak atop the coupe in the pouring rain with several members of the Sierra delegation inside), over a dozen trips to Charlottesville (responsible for my only speeding ticket in the Blue/Green), and a hell of a lot more (accepting picture submissions from all members of the Wednesday Nite Crew).

So I hope you can understand a little hesitation in my excitement over getting a new car. Sure was hard to turn the keys over and take those plates off. But the road ahead looks good and I am sure the new vehicle is up for the challenge (I will be accepting submission to name the new vehicle). In the meantime I am psyched to announce whus will be broadcasting the CT Blues Challenge live from 2-7 pm Sept. 15. So check out the blues at www.whus.org and think of me building the memories in the new vehicle. Pardon if I am still catching my breath.

Washboard

gentrification marches on

2007-08-28T12:49:00.000-04:00

your loyal correspondant has just returned from a week home with mom in Stumptown, and is sad to report the demise of another Portland institution. When I was just a wee youth, one place to go to casue trouble was NW 23rd Street. 23rd was the place where the kookiness and offbeat weirdness that made Portland, Portland flourished, just blocks from downtown. Sandwiched between a hospital, the east face of Council Crest, Burnside and a bunch of aging Victorians, 23rd had character. There was no need for a campaign to "Keep Portland Weird", it already was. everything on the street was local, from Coffee People to Escape from New York, to drinking coffee all night and smoking cloves at Rose's Deli. And this is what passed for yuppie, in the old days of PDX. We didn't have any Starbucks (seriously, in 1980, Starbucks and Coffee People split the Northwest, in what I am sure would be an illegal gentleman's agreement, Starbucks got Washington and Coffee People got Portland)

anyway, 15 years on, Coffee People is gone (a starbucks, of course) Escape is a boutique, Rose's is a f*#$ing Subway, and now, as of August 31, the anchor of the North Side of Nob Hill (the fact it is now "Nob Hill" is bad enough) the place that provided the soundtrack to our lives, Music Millenium, is falling to yuppies. MM was an independant place, the size of a Tower Records, that had been bringing music to Portland for 30 years, if you came to Portland, and you had any credibility, you stopped in at MM, Jazz, classical, blues, hiphop, grunge, hippie jam bands, everyone made their pilgrimage. And now it is gone. along with all the stuff that made 23rd an interesting place to be. the only remaining holdover is the great desserts from Pape Hayden's. But at least there is an Urban Outfitters...

Mike Gravel is running for President

2007-06-16T09:38:00.000-04:00

but no one knows a damn thing about him. So he takes all his money, and makes a campaign ad to put on you tube. So he has 2:51 to explain why you should vote for (and more importantly now, give money to) Mike Gravel.

Here it is:

Seriously, what the fuck?

Viva Massachusetts!

2007-06-15T15:04:00.000-04:00

As you may have heard, the Massachusetts Senate and House failed to pass legislation putting a ballot measure killing gay marriage on the 2008 ballot. The bigots (sorry, opponents) needed 50 votes out of 200. Last week they had 55. But when push came to shove, on 46 managed to throw their names behind the idea that civil rights should be voted on. Even the Catholic Church, still in favor in Mass for some reason) tried to drum up support and failed. The earliest the troglodytes can now get their anti-civil rights bill on the ballot is 2012, when there will be 8 years of marriages being performed in Mass. Ten gets you a hundred that will fail to be on the ballot as well.

nice work, massholes. I take back everything I ever said about your driving skills or lack thereof.

Dude, where's my watch?

2007-06-12T13:26:00.001-04:00

watch this from 3:20 to 2:51...notice anything about el jefe's left wrist?

The New Wednesday Nite

2007-05-23T12:59:00.000-04:00

Well Washboard has finally broken through. It was a monumental task-more than should be required of any individual or inanimate object. But there I was half sleeping through Saturday night hoping my alarm would not only go off-but actually wake me up at 4 am every Sunday morning so I could be on the air by 5. Now the good news is I’ve suffered through those bad times and there is a light at the end of the tunnel. There’s a new Wednesday Nite in town because the Transfer Station has moved to prime time every Wednesday from 8-10 pm. So grab a pack of sierra, a set of nice computer speakers, a few buddies and tune your browser to www.whus.org. Tonight I will be celebrating one year of torment on/by the Transfer Station. I’ll be playing some of my favorite tracks I've uncovered over the year (and some from the radio days with Phillipe in ME). So tune in tonight (Wednesday) at 8 pm to www.whus.org. To get you in the mood here are some fun facts about this past year’s ride at the Transfer Station…

Fun fact one: The Transfer Station got its name from Old Man Jackson when I asked friends and bloggers to submit names for the show.

Fun fact two: The original time slot for the Transfer Station was Saturday 2-5 am (Friday night for some). This is where the idea for the Transfer set came into play. I believe there were two separate groups of listeners (late night partiers and extreme early bird). As such the show was divided into the late show and the early show (which was more like the late, late, late show and the early, early show). In between I did a Transfer Set that consisted of music outside of the blues genre-because there's a lot of other music I love. I did get calls from both "audiences" and yes I did the late show first and then the early show-ironic.

Fun fact three: Old Man Jackson came up from NYC to be a guest on the show. While at dinner at like 9:30 pm the diner we sat at lost power and then lost back up power-sending Washboard and Old Man scrambling to Red Robin.

Fun fact four: The first musical performance on the Transfer Station was Curt Brand (www.curtisbrand.com). Inspiring such memorable quotes as "I'm not usually up at this hour of the morning". Well said Curt!

Fun fact five: Buck Fifety/Dr. Pepe has made two guest appearances on the Transfer Station. – Question what happens when the new dollar coin comes out? I guarantee-you hit double digits you make Letterman’s stupid human tricks…

For more fun, shenanigans and of course great blues tune in every Wednesday at 8 pm on www.whus.org (91.7 fm in CT) your blues depot.

Enjoy
Washboard

Buck Fifty Rides Again

2007-05-09T12:44:00.000-04:00

since it's bocce season here, and to celebrate the 419 All Stars (behind the winning throw of one Mrs. Frangione) sit in the top five (official numbers aren't out yet for this week, but since we're 3-0, it's gotta be good) props to the Wallendas, who subbed Big John Rosans for me this week and managed to turn their fortunes around...

I now present to you a blast from the past. the Pride of Mount Vernon! the man we call "Money"...seriously, kids, don't try this at home:

sure signs of spring

2007-04-25T12:23:00.001-04:00

1: the swallows returing to San Juan Capistrano
2: sundresses
3:it's Bocce season! so strap on your training capes, your drinkin' hat and your flip flops, grab yourself some SoCo and Lime and throw dem balls around (well, except for Dr. Pepe, who is apparently onto the Miller Lite...)

And we are proud to report that despite, or perhaps due to, my being loaned out a Wallendas, the 419AllStars, featuring the debut of Mr Amanda Barton (ne Fisher), walloped some lawyers to enter a two way tie for third at the top of the table. The Wallendas, playing in the dusk, managed to eek out a win over a veteran team and sit comfortably in 15th.

Going Big with the Blues

2007-04-23T15:57:00.000-04:00

Well kids, WHUS is coming to the last 2 weeks of the current schedule. Who knows what will happen when things switch over. Could get better, could get worse. But either way Washboard will not the next two shows for granted. That’s why this week’s show will be dedicated to size. I have often thought to myself I bet you could do a set or two related to overweight folks-turns out you can do an entire show. This week every song will celebrate girth. From Big Legged Momma’s are Back in Style to 300 lbs of Joy and so much more. So find a Wafflehouse or Dunkin’ Donuts Woman (both weigh north of 300 lbs), brew a big pot of coffee, fry up a few eggs and tune into the Transfer Station this Sunday at 6 am at www.whus.org.

Pleased to welcome a new addition to the clan

2007-04-21T14:26:00.000-04:00

not the WNSC clan, but the Wallis/Stevens clan from which I spring. 23:58 saw the planetary debut of Elizabeth Hope Pollard, cousin once removed to me. Welcome aboard!

A Grand Tradition Resumes

2007-04-21T14:20:00.002-04:00

A long, long time ago, in a land far, far, away, there was this little website called Trees-Lounge.com. TL specialized in the mp3 blogging sector of our great interweb. Seeking to differentiate itself from the 32,435 (est) other mp3 blogs out there, TL started a 50 State Project, listing songs from every one of our great states.

Then, just after Washington (the one on the Pacific, no the colony on the Potomac) the site went bye bye, and the project withered on the vine so near to completion, and yet so far.

I am happy to announce that the 50 State Project (TL version) is back online, with the great state of Wyoming. Next up, Wisconsin. Seriously, it's fun and worth checking out.

there’s a limb in our boat. oh, that’s not good…

2007-04-20T15:43:00.001-04:00

As I rolled out of the back of the canoe and into the frigid waters of the Willimantic, I thought to myself, “I can’t believe this is happening. This water is cold enough to kill me. How did this happen?”

Let me go back a few steps. Washboard and I had set off earlier in the day to commemorate the annual Willimantic River Race, which wasn’t being held this year due to the untimely and unexpected death of the race organizer. Held each year in mid-April, the race covers an 8-mile stretch of the Willimantic River in Connecticut. Why on Earth would you hold a canoe/kayak race in April in New England? Well, the only time you can run the Willimantic is during the spring melt (March and April). Otherwise, you will bang the holy hell out of your boat and spend half the day trying to navigate through 3 inches of water. So put on some gloves and a few extra layers of polypro, it’s time for a late winter paddle!

Last year, Washboard and I had our inaugural run in the Willimantic River Race. Washboard was still relatively new to the New England area and I had flown up from DC, so we were forced to rent a canoe. Not an easy thing to do before the official opening of the summer paddling season. We ended up with a rickety, fossil of a canoe that proceeded to spring a MAJOR leak about two miles into the run. We struggled through the race, dumping the boat every quarter mile and eventually limping across the finish line with a time of 197 minutes. Many of the other race participants found our time uproariously funny. In fact, a few asked, “How do you even GO that slow?” Well, I can tell you how…

Things looked much better for this year’s “Commemorative Run.” We put in at about 11 AM with clear, sunny skies and temps in the 40s. The river conditions were near perfect, with just enough water for a quick run and some nice riffles, but nothing so high that we would ever be in serious danger. Our goal for the day was to keep up a good pace and better our time from last year. We were running in Washboard’s brand-new Mad River, an incredibly seaworthy and fast canoe. Everything looked great for the run. We started the stopwatch, paddled into the current and took off downstream.

We were having an easy time navigating, catching the current through the turns, avoiding big rocks, slipping through strainers, gliding through the shallows. It wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty impressive. We were making great time, and only got momentarily caught up when we encountered a downed tree blocking the river. We lurched and bumped our way over it, no big deal. But actually, it’s an important point to bring up.

You see, when the organizers prepare for the race each year, they go through the course and make sure that no downed trees or other objects are blocking the river. If there is, they remove it so the paddlers don’t have to deal with it. Not to mention, these types of obstacles can be very dangerous. Since there was no race this year, we were running down a river that hadn’t been cleared in months. So, we were kind of Lewis-and-Clarkin’ it…

Which takes me back to my earlier question (see first paragraph). At mile 6, we came upon a downed tree crossing the river, which was only 10 feet wide at this point. The trunk hovered about four feet above the surface of the water with three thick limbs jutting down. We hesitated for a second and then decided that we could squeeze between two of the limbs. The limb to the right reached down into the water, but the limb on the left didn’t quite make it to the surface, ending about six inches above it. We only had a few seconds to position the boat between the four-inch-thick limbs. I steered us into place, but as we approached the tree, the water deepened and the current swung us around. Washboard was now headed directly toward the limb on the left. He managed to dodge it, but the current kept pushing us sideways and the limb was suddenly inside the boat. I quickly realized that the limb was going to smack into the boat’s left gunnel, and with the current still pushing us downstream, the boat was going to slide right out from under us. I reached behind me for the limb on the right, but it was too late. The boat lurched left, and I rolled backward over the side like a scuba diver. I caught a glance of blue sky as I hit the water, and I thought, “Damn, this is going to be cold…”

I surfaced and immediately tried to swim back toward the boat. Amazingly, the canoe was still upright, and Washboard was scrambling to figure out what to do. With two layers on my legs, three layers up top and a pair of thick skiing gloves, swimming wasn’t easy. In fact, it was damn near impossible. I realized that my paddle was floating away from me, so I turned downstream to grab it. Washboard called out, “You OK? What do you want me to do?” I tried to call back between gasps, but nothing much came out. So I turned back upstream to make my way towards the boat and the shore.

But when I turned around, the boat was completely capsized and Washboard was nowhere to be found. My first thought was, “How nice! Washboard tipped the canoe out of sympathy for me.” That wasn’t the case though. In trying to turn the boat to pick me up, he got tied up on a submerged log and was tossed out, just like me. Now we were both floating in near-freezing water. Luckily, the upside-down canoe steered itself into an eddy and Washboard and I made our way to the bank beside it.

We managed to pull the canoe on shore and, between fits of hysterical laughter, dumped the murky brown Willimantic out of it. Actually, Washboard did most of the work because the icy cold water had SERIOUSLY affected my bladder and I had to run behind a tree to drain the lizard. We stripped off our soaked gloves and layers, squeezing out our quick-dry stuff as much as we could. We each had a fleece in the dry bag, and with our shells over top, we warmed up quickly. Ten minutes after disaster struck, we were back on the water, a little shaken but very inspired to get home in a timely manner.

Fortunately for us, the elements were on our side. The sun was shining and the wind was at a minimum. After a quarter mile of paddling, my teeth had stopped chattering and my hands had feeling again. In fact, I felt pretty damn good. Yes, we had dumped in the river. Yes, we had made a silly decision not portaging around the strainer. But goddamn it, other than that, it had been a fantastic run. We had made good time, and I couldn’t help smile as we crossed Eagleville Lake towards the take-out point.

I am proud to say, we finished the run in 90 minutes, shaving nearly two hours off our previous time. And to celebrate, we feasted on whole wheat fig newtons and sunned ourselves on the rocks beside Eagleville Dam, like a proud pair of river lizards.

A Painful Day...

2007-04-16T13:31:00.000-04:00

I was going to spend today’s lunch break posting an entry about my Willimantic Mishaps this weekend, but I am going to hold off for a day or two out of respect for the students killed in Blacksburg today. My sister, her boyfriend and many of their friends went to VT. I have visited a number of times. It is a cool, mountain school with beautiful “Hokie Stone”-covered buildings and views that are incredible. It is quiet, sprawling campus that brings together kids from across Virginia, not just the snotty, moneyed NoVa suburbs (yeah UVa, I’m talking about your lame ass!)

Why do these things happen? I have no idea, but I know it’s not going to end. America is the only place where this happens on a regular basis. It is our new tradition. We are a brutal, soulless bunch. We spend every waking second jockeying for better position—bigger cars, better houses, more influence, more stuff, better stuff. And those who can’t keep up and fall by the way? Well, they are not always happy about it…

Hopefully, everybody involved can find peace one day. And good luck to the rest of us.

Mean. Mean. Mean.

2007-04-05T14:20:00.000-04:00

Bananas are proof that God wants us to be monkeys

2007-03-30T00:44:00.000-04:00

no, really people, you can't make this shit up. Remember when Kirk Cameron was normal?

http://onegoodmove.org/1gm/1gmarchive/2006/04/the_atheists_ni_1.html

This may be the single greatest use of the interweb ever

2007-03-29T16:05:00.000-04:00

don't think, just click.

Bad News Potfiends:

2007-03-29T15:59:00.000-04:00

According to the Israeli Green Leaf Party, marijuana is not Kosher for Passover. And we thought US politics was getting ridiculous.

It's Marathon Day!

2007-03-24T13:02:00.000-04:00

which means, of course, that my car is stranded 8 blocks away. but anyway. after being forced to bascially abandon SueBee just south of Columbia Road, I stopped in at Crumbs 'n Coffee for a little brekkie (I really just wanted to go home and sleep, but no) I saw these two adorable kids watching the runners.

everyone say 'awww'. ok good. meanwhile, in front of the Sandanista...someone doesn't like the new parking system...

guess they'll have to raise parking fees again! that took some freaking work, you know?

Damn You, John Kerry!

2007-03-21T15:15:00.000-04:00

yep, you guessed it. anyone else like the sight of those nice green boxes on the corner? it's about time someone gave the CityPaper a run for it's free handouts.

Quick, look in the cockpit...do you see this man?

2007-03-20T14:44:00.000-04:00

if so, I suggest deplaning at your earliest convenience.

According to This is London James Yates was drunk, blowing well over the legal limit of 20 micrograms per 100/ml for a commercial airline pilot when he showed up at Manchester last February 11 to fly to the States.

This raises an interesting question: WHY THE HELL is there any legal limit at all? Isn't flying a plane something you should do, I don't know, SOBER? I mean stone cold sober? We're not talking about Joseph Hazelwood here, after all, bad shit can happen on a plane, what if there was an outbreak of snakes? then what?

Lord knows, I am all in favour of drinking, but I kinda want my pilots sober. Mark it down: Phillippe is fully in favour of pilots who are not on the sauce.

GOOOOOOOOOOAL!

2007-03-19T15:41:00.000-04:00

just sayin.

Cold, Hard

2007-03-19T14:59:00.000-04:00

cash, that is. A drug bust in Mexico City this weekend found the following pile:

Yes, my friends, that is $205,000,000 (and change) in hundred dollar bills. for those of you playing along at home, a 10,000 $100 bills weighs 10 kilos. so this pile weighs 2,050 kilos, or 4,510 pounds. two and a quarter tons of cash. that is one hell of a trip to Vegas.

did someone say Vegas?

Poor Grandma!

2007-03-16T20:15:00.000-04:00

you gotta give some mad props to McDonald's in the UK for having a question and answer site about their food. Such things are important. And they answer questions, for instance, I now know that there are no cow ears in milkshakes. Check it out and make up your own mind.

and don't worry:

Thanks to The Register (UK) for this little tidbit. Seriously, you can't make this shit up.

Support the Blues

2007-03-14T15:38:00.000-04:00

Hey it’s great to see the WNSC blog getting active once again.

But more importantly, WHUS (the radio station foolish enough to put the likes of Washboard on the air) is hosting it’s annual beg…er radiothon. Yesterday I had a great time sitting in on the bluesline the other blues show on HUS. To keep the fun going old Ramblin’ Bert agreed to come on my show this weekend so the show on Sunday promises to be a blues dj extravaganza. I will be playing my washboard for pledges-perhaps I will even give away recordings of the Skowhegan Washboard Blues (and who could resist that). I know you will all tune in to listen Sunday at whus.org 6-8 am, but as my mind drifts back the question of the day is…

Did anyone see Washboard on TV Saturday night? There I was at CPTV HQ in a bright red shirt answering calls in a most radiothon like setting. Sadly the music was not of the quality one comes to expect from the Transfer Station-instead I was taking donations to CPTV during of all things a Tony Bennett special (hence I played all blues this week). I definitely learned a thing or two that night and I have been told (including by my boss) that I was on TV a significant amount. All in all it was a fairly amusing and painless experience-but you gotta laugh-where is YouTube when you need ‘em.

I'd like to think the fine content of WHUS can garner half the support in a week that Tony Bennett got in three hours-but I need your help. Step up in my quest for the most random radiothon donation. Maybe it's a donation from some random place like North Dakota or Croatia or maybe it's a pledge for $91.70. You’d be supporting a show that has brought great blues and so many great times to CT and as far beyond as Australia. Last season alone saw...Turkeys crashing through living room windows. Fugitives swimming across the frigid Quinnebaug River in December. MBTA workers getting fired for fornicated in company cars. Live music at the Transfer Station. DJ Sleepyhead dropping by to share a few yarns. And of course a little bit of washboard.

In any event be sure to tune in Sunday from 6 – 8 a.m. (Eastern Standard Time) at whus.org (91.7 fm) and show your support.

Washboard

Lotto Update!

2007-03-08T18:35:00.000-05:00

So, as everyone knows by now, the Mohawk Carpet Company of Dalton, GA is looking for a new truck driver. Thank you, Ed Nabors, for not pretending you were going to keep working.

And no, Dr. Pepe, the other wasn't West Virginia, it was the completely unfair Woodbine, NJ. Sure, you get to live like 15 miles from the Jersey Shore, and now you also get 123 million? I sure hope someone in Woodbine is consulting a very good tax attorney right now.

It's March, and you know what that means!

2007-03-08T18:03:00.000-05:00

Is this a great country, or what?

2007-03-06T14:54:00.000-05:00

Mom Pleads Guilty To Using Baby As Weapon In Fight

(AP) ERIE, Pa. A woman pleaded guilty Tuesday to swinging her 4-week-old son like a bat to hit her boyfriend during a fight, fracturing the infant's skull in the process.

Chytoria Graham, 27, pleaded guilty to aggravated assault and endangering the welfare of a child under a plea agreement with prosecutors.

By pleading guilty, Graham acknowledged that on Oct. 8 she grabbed her son Jarron by his feet and swung him, hitting her boyfriend and seriously injuring the child.

At Graham's preliminary hearing in December, paramedic Betty Schau, who treated the baby, recalled that Graham was crying and disheveled when medical crews arrived. She testified that Graham told her, "I swung him. I swung him like a bat."

The judge ordered a psychological examination for Graham before her sentencing, set for May 8. The charges carry a minimum of five years in prison because the child was under age 12. Two lesser charges were dropped.

Graham's previous attorney had said Graham did not use her child as a weapon, that the boy was hurt during a fight between the two adults and that Graham lied to authorities about how the injury occurred to protect her boyfriend.

Her current attorney, public defender Julia Dudics, however, said Tuesday that the choice to plead guilty was Graham's. Dudics declined further comment except to say that Graham had told her she was depressed.

Jarron, who made a full recovery, and Graham's four other children are currently in the custody of her parents.

(© 2007 The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed. )

In other news, the MegaMillions Jackpot is $370,000,000. Can anyone guess from which state a group of co-workers will win it from, only to protest that they will 'keep their jobs, this doesn't change anything'?

unreal. simply unreal.

2007-03-06T14:23:00.000-05:00

Broken noses aside, a proud week for Duke Sports

2007-03-06T11:16:00.000-05:00

Report: Almost Nobody Raped During Duke's First Lacrosse Match

DURHAM, NC—The Duke Blue Devils lacrosse team celebrated a triumphant return to the field last Saturday, defeating the Dartmouth Big Green...

Well thank god for this, huh? I don't think the Dookies could survive another scandal, what with beating up Psycho T, losing to anyone and everyone else from the state of Carolina and then whining about it non-stop...

Vocational Training

2007-03-01T16:00:00.000-05:00

you will be happy to learn that we are compassionate here at the Sierra Club (not affiliated with The Sierra Club of John Muir fame)

We believe in second chances.

We believe in rehabilitation.

We believe in helping a brother get back on his feet.

All of this is why we are especially proud of our bothers and sisters down in Mississippi who have generously offered to help our beleagured President get a head start on his next career. How bout it folks, let's hear it for the ol' M-eye-crooked letter-crooked letter-eye-crooked letter-crooked letter-eye-Peepee-eye!

In completely unrelated news: Shrek found in Ireland

2007-03-01T15:30:00.000-05:00

LINK

Lonely man brought donkey to hotel room, court told

Monday, 26 February 2007

A man who was found dressed in latex and handcuffs brought a donkey to his room in a Galway city centre hotel, because he was advised “to get out and meet people,” the local court heard last week.
Thomas Aloysius McCarney with an address in south Galway was charged with cruelty to animals, lewd and obscene behaviour, and with being a danger to himself when he appeared before the court on Friday. He was also charged with damage to a mini-bar in the room, but this charge was later dropped when the defendant said that it was the donkey who caused that damage.
Solicitor for the accused Ms Sharon Fitzhenry said that her client had been through a difficult time lately and that his wife had left him and that his life had become increasingly lonely.
“Mr McCarney has been attending counselling at which he was told that he would be advised to get out and meet people and do interesting things. It was this advice that saw him book into the city centre hotel with a donkey,” she said. She added that Mr McCarney also suffered from a fixation with the Shrek movies and could constantly be heard at work talking to himself saying things like “Isn’t that right, Donkey?”
Supt John McBrearty told the court that Mr McCarney who had signed in as “ Mr Shrek” had told hotel staff that the donkey was a family pet and that this was believed by the hotel receptionist who the supt said was “young and hadn’t great English.”
Receptionist Irina Legova said that Mr McCarney had told her that the donkey was a breed of “super rabbit” which he was bringing to a pet fair in the city. The court was told that the donkey went berserk in the middle of the night and ran amok in the hotel corridor, forcing hotel staff to call the gardai.
McCarney was found in the room wearing a latex suit and handcuffs, the key to which the donkey is believed to have swallowed. He was removed to Mill St station after which it is said he was the subject of much mirth among the lads next door in The Galway Arms.
He was fined €2,000 for bringing the donkey to the room under the Unlawful Accommodation of Donkeys Act 1837. Other charges were dropped due to lack of evidence.

/END

Really. I am rarely truely speechless, but I got nothing. nothing. Ireland has a law concerning the Unlawful Accomodation of Donkeys? how bad must have things been for donkeys in 1837? Come on, are we to believe that in 1836, this was perfectly legal?

That Damn Liberal Media

2007-02-28T11:48:00.000-05:00

m'dawg = m'bad

2007-02-21T13:10:00.000-05:00

(Editor's note: Below is my review of M'Dawg Haute Dog, the new carry-out hot dog place that opened in Adams-Morgan last week. It has been the subject of much anticipation.)

so, i had m'dawg last night, and it was pretty terrible...

for 6 bucks, you get a shriveled, skinny flavorless "dawg" in a stale bun. the "uptown" toppings bar ($1 extra!!) contains a bunch of borderline-spoiled crap that does little to enhance the taste of your overpriced "haute" dog. oh, and the fries! they are soggy and look like they were purchased at the safeway up the street. BUT for an extra buck, you can pump a mildly spicy velveeta on top of them, and for an extra two bucks, you can throw some day-old cafeteria-style chili on top. at least 7-11 has the decency not to charge you an arm and a leg for this sh*tfood!!

the layout of the place is idiotic, with the toppings bar just inches away from the bathroom. there are few places to sit or lean, as the owners have stolen the interior design from the jumbo slice school of architecture. and, in true jumbo slice fashion, the employees are grumpy and unhelpful.

i guess the thing that p*sses me off the most is the cost. if i am going to pay 8 bucks for a hot dog and fries, it better make me sh*t my pants with delight. or if i am going to eat a crappy dog and nasty fries, i better pay next to nothing. but NO, i just got rooked like a popped-collar rube from clarendon, and that really bites my a$$!

f' m'dawg! save your money and go to old city or tacos pepitos!"

Thank you, Joe Mathlete!

2007-01-22T17:39:00.000-05:00

So, I like to think of myself as well, not all that dumb, most of the time. But you know, sometimes I just don't get things. Like this Marmaduke, for instance:

I just don't get it, I know, it's understandable, I mean without my Warner edition, I am useless on Thucydides. it might as well be in Greek. But still I should be able to get the odd Marmaduke, right?

Thank god that Joe Mathlete is doing for Marmaduke what Pansikar did for Yogavasistha. Amen. Joe Mathlete, you are my hero. Finally, I can read the morning paper and not be lost in the woods.

Go check it out, good times. For instance, the above strip is apparently a riff on eating too much over the holidays! I totally missed that.

Yeehah, I got me a window!

2007-01-03T14:13:00.000-05:00

After a year in cubicle hell, I gots me a 12th floor window!

Is it halloween already?

2006-11-20T14:23:00.000-05:00

your president, ladies and gentlemen.

RIP Bo-

2006-11-17T14:25:00.000-05:00

Woody has Hell's Minions lined up in a 4-3 waiting for you, time to organize the good guys again-

Heaven? Blue sky. Hell? Red flames. Coincidence? I think not.

No Woody, Baby Jesus hasn't forgotten the "I would have gone for three if I could" line either.

This Just In...

2006-11-17T09:09:00.000-05:00

Ohio State Sucks.

This is still the best ad ever.

Introducing the newest inductee-

2006-11-02T09:23:00.000-05:00

to the Wednesday Night Sierra Club-

Drew, Mother and apparently Washboard as reported to be doing fine.

And don't worry, DD- in 1092 weeks, the Sierra is on us.

There is no escape.

2006-09-25T14:30:00.000-04:00

So our little Chris went off on his honeymoon to lovely Mexico, and what did he find? There is no escaping the 419. resistance is futile.

Broken Heat Wave...

2006-08-07T20:07:00.000-04:00

Thank god. Your corresponsdents were all at the Jersey Shore this weekend, looking to vainly escape this:

still, it was hot as hell in Jersey for two days as well, so we engaged in some important activities, namely:

a few catchphrases from the weekend:

"There are too many motherfucking flies on this motherfucking beach!"
"Jumanji!"
"Focus on the wedding, eyes on the prize"
"Oh, I'm just applying aloe."
"Thanks for dinner, I gotta go skate before it gets dark."

UPDATE: also forgotten:

"Just give me a second to change." (credit, Dr. Pepe)
"Hi, Kettle? This is Pot. You are black."

anyone remember any others?

Hey, I got a great idea!

2006-08-02T09:59:00.000-04:00

Let's go to the Beach. Anyone?

no good reason

2006-08-02T09:57:00.000-04:00

but for those of us complaining about the local air quality...check out this image stolen mercilessly from the front page of the Washington Post:
Ah do believe that's a paddlin! I can name that city in two notes, Bob, how's about you? A free beverage of my choosing for the first correct response...

...That's a Paddlin'

2006-07-25T13:48:00.000-04:00

Silently laying the rankest air biscuit in human history at 5:45 AM in a packed car...That’s a paddlin’

Talkin’ big game with the outfitter and then sliding down a muddy bank with a cooler between your legs…That’s a paddlin’

Carrying your canoe through a quarter-mile portage fully loaded…That’s a paddlin’

Panicking while trying to paddle upstream behind a large rock in rapids…That’s a paddlin’

Passing out in the canoe in the middle of the river…That’s a paddlin’

Covering 18 miles of a 22-mile, two-day canoe trip in three hours…That’s a paddlin’

Making camp at 2:45 PM, 100 yards from a brewery…That’s a paddlin’

Sitting on the privy buck-naked in a rain storm…That’s a paddlin’

Urinating in the “Rebirth” section of the Path of Life…That’s a paddlin’

Spilling your raspberry hefeweizen while lounging in two feet of ice cold river water…That’s a paddlin’

Visiting the privy twice in less than 20 hours…That’s a paddlin’

Using flatulence as a source of both entertainment and competition…That’s a paddlin’

Getting hit on by the waitress at the brewery and opting for more time with the boys…That’s a paddlin’

Burning enough firewood for five Boy Scout troops in one night…That’s a paddlin’

Snoring so loud that you drown out the trains passing 10 yards away…That’s a paddlin’

Sitting in a canoe and peeing over the side, with both feet dangling in the water…That’s a paddlin’

Having an adolescent splash fight and yelling “F*ckers!!!” while a family with kids drifts by…That’s a paddlin’

Returning to said brewery, sunburned and dirty, for more raspberry hefeweizen, sandwiches and face time with the waitress…You better believe that’s a paddlin’!!

Getting Back to Normal

2006-06-29T12:12:00.000-04:00

Today I treated myself to two things. A latte and a walk in the park. To some that my just seem like a $4 cup of coffee and a chance to let the 90% humidity dampen their work duds. But let me tell you these are the little things I have been missing over the past three weeks of insano work. The events in was in charge of are finally over. I couldn’t be more pleased. Life should return to normal soon, in fact I resume life on the bus tomorrow. Today in nostalgic preparation I walked from the office (I drove in) to the bus stop and back to work. It was a lovely walk through Bushnell Park that ended at my bank’s ATM and Starbucks. Upon returning to work I felt things were a bit more normal. Still plenty to do, but only enough to make the day go by quickly. I seems good times lay in wait. The weekends are filling up with visits from family and friends so look forward to a few cameos on Transfer Station-including one by my little brother-who is extraordinarily entertaining- this week. It’s going to be a great show so tune in at whus.org.

Don't forget to check out the Transfer Station on-line at www.myspace.com/washboardpat.
Washboard

Too Much Rain-CT Dispatch

2006-06-08T09:21:00.000-04:00

Well I am finally getting fed up with all this rain out here. As I sit in my office lamenting the drudgeries and stresses of another day I am literally soaking wet due to the short walk to the office from the bus stop. Looks like a mixed bag for the next few days of rain on and off including Saturday, not only the official day of Transfer Station but a day I have invited a bunch of people over for a barbeque. Well, I'm looking forward to things looking up for everybody, but the blues seem to be all around. I hope you'll tune in late Friday night/early Saturday to catch it. You can tune in 2-5 am Saturday (really late friday) at whus.org. Here's the set list from the late show last week to wet your whistle. It was a fine show featuring a number of call ins (including one by Phillipe) and a news story about putting a mouse in a Taco-anyone ever see Strange Brew...

I Cant Speak No Spanish-Little Charlie and the Nightcats/Dont Start me Talkin-Willie Big Eyes Smith/Let the Good Times Roll-BB King/Taking It All to Vegas-Debbie Davies/Dirty Shame-Carey Bell/Better Be Getting On-Smokin Joe Kubeck/The Life of the Party-Harmonica Shah/Got My Mojo Working-Pinetop Perkins/My Babe-Little Walter/Check Writing Woman-Watermelon Slim and the Workers/Evil Hearted Woman-Lightning Hopkins/Down South Woman Blues-Washboard Sam/Mean Old Lady-Michael Burks/Why Are People Like That-Tab Benoit/Ill Do Anything But Work-Duke Robbillard/Midnight Special-Ledbelly/Mean Old World-Otis Rush & Prof. Longhair/On the Road Again-Sonny Terry & Brownie McGee/TNT-Ladell McLin

Washboard

A windy, chilly Saturday in the district...

2006-06-03T15:41:00.000-04:00

And, once again, I haven't slept much. Yes, I promise, I'll try to find something cheerier to write about next time. But if you head over to My Old Kentucky Blog you can find the definitive collection of covers of perhaps the most beautiful, heartbreaking song ever...very apropos of my mood today...

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you
It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

You say I took the Name in vain
I don't even know the Name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light in every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Maybe I've been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

There was a time you let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you
I remember when I moved in you
The holy ghost was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Yessir, Mr. Cohen knew of what he spake. I can't decide today, if I prefer Rufus' version, Jeff Buckley's version, or Allison Crowe, today, although the Late Tuesday one (if you don't know them, check them out, they're fabulous) is perhaps the most unsettling today to me.

Bring on June!

2006-06-01T12:43:00.000-04:00

So, it's hot as hell and muggy to boot here in our nation's capital. Welcome to June.

But, hey, it's gotta beat May, right? Let's see how May went:

Bocce team eliminated from playoffs in first round.
Lost my appeal of a littering ticket I had nothing to do with.
Bike got stolen.
Tore a hole in the pants of my favourite suit.
Had the most important person in the world break my heart and shatter my hopes and dreams for the future.

It may have been the most beautiful weather month in a long time, and we'll regret not enjoying it enough in a couple of weeks, but fuck it, I think I'll skip May next year.

As for June, well, World Cup. 'nuff said. GO TOGO!

The World's Snappiest Comebacks

2006-05-25T12:44:00.000-04:00

As one who thinks of witty repartee just a few seconds too late, and then sometimes is afraid to use the ones I anticipate, I can respect this. I still regret one from Tuesday night, absolutely perfect response, a half second too late. ahh well. In homage to Senator Lloyd Bentsen, best known for his "You're no Jack Kennedy" line... the Post lists a couple of other great ones... a sampling...

Woman: If I was your wife, I would poison your coffee.
Winston Churchill: if I was your husband I would drink it.

ahh, the lost art of repartee- if you had but one line to say to someone, one line to seal everything up in a nice package. it's like hitting a walk off homer, or putting the golden goal in the back of the net- you win, and walk away leaving the respondant gasping for words like a goldfish on the kitchen floor. Course, it never works that way, you feel bad, or don't pull the trigger, or only come up with them when the stakes aren't at their highest. but that one time, the one line that will be remembered, by everyone lucky enough to hear it, that's simply brilliant.

Adios, Trojan

2006-05-24T15:55:00.000-04:00

So I once wrote a detailed term paper on this little baby. And now, it is gone with the (several tons of high explosive)

"What the Hell is an Aluminum Falcon?'

2006-05-24T15:48:00.000-04:00

I do love the YouTube.

Charcuterie

2006-05-24T12:19:00.000-04:00

So, I was thinking about pork the other day. It might have had something to do with the large pit slowly rotating on a spit ten feet behind me, but that seems somewhat unlikely, I think it's a coincidence. and I'm sure it has nothing to do with the Bloody Marys that Tonic serves, garnished with, you guessed it Bacon. mmm. bacon.

ok, back to meat. I happened to be reminded of this when I saw a story on Slate today about the only typical American Chartucerie. The Italians get proscuitto, the Spaniards jambon d'Iberico, the French get dried horsemeat, and what do we, the "Greatest Country in the World" (TM) get? Jerky.

You gots your beef jerky, your venison jerky, your mystery meat Slim-Jim jerky, it all seems so straightforward, doesn't it? You slice the meat, you dry the meat. And it's really, as Sarah Dickerman points out, the quintessential American food. It's very independant, you don't need anything else (save a nice cold beer) to accompany it, jerky is, well, lonely. You're out there on the range, riding shotgun on your herd, and you need a nice, portable, tasty snack. Eating it requires no skill or really attention, you just kinda chew. Preparing it doesn't require the skill level, or time, that proscuitto does. It's just kinda there, doing it's thing, waiting for you to do your thing. No advance planning is really required, one way or the other, got some unexptected surplus meat? make you some jerky for a rainy day. And then you start eating it. Jerky requires moderation, but invites excess. Another perfect metaphor. We like to think it's endless, and that we can handle everything, but eventually, when you try to process it, you pay. The American Experience: no planning, no long term though, pure indulgence, wicked hangover in the morning.

But it's not so simple, out of the controlled environs of the kitchen (Christopher McCandless sadly failed, for instance) (PETE, this is a warning: that link is provided so you don't have to wikipedia him, but don't let your boss walk by this time, huh?) Like so much else, it seems so simple, and yet the slightest mistake can be costly. How hard can it be? we aren't cutting up Fugu here, the slip of a knife shouldn't be fatal.- So I should practice, less I need it for survival after the coming rapture. Anyone know where I can find a fattened calf?

It's Amateur Night...

2006-05-23T12:52:00.000-04:00

Via Senor Jackson, we find the Times covering a nice little drinking club called '12 darks'. They meet every Friday night at McSorley's Old Ale House. They have a streak of 147 straight nights. There are two reasons why this troubles me.

1: they take attendance and keep a spreadsheet. That's just wrong. there is no attendance at the Wednesday Night, it happens whether or not any particular person attends, even if no one attends, the tradition continues. Heck, we lost Washboard to the Nutmeg State and Carlson to the Windy City, and the tradition goes on apace. You can come once a year, or once a week, it don't matter none.

2: it's on a Friday. How depressing does your life have to be if you can meet every Friday late night for beers in the same place? This is confirmed by the fact that two of them want to stay anonymous. That's pathetic.

3: our bar is better.

4: no Robert F. Haines.

on the plus side, they do have a nice website, and they got covered in the Times. We have this blog, and can't get covered in the Toledo Lounge Newsletter.

Welcome Back

2006-05-22T14:10:00.000-04:00

Well this Saturday (very early) morning saw my triumphant return to the air waves. All in all it was a good showing and felt great to be back in the saddle. Lamentably I am not joined by Phillipe, but I am glad to see his glorious return to profuse postings. Together this helps me think things are once again right in the world (or at least among the Wednesday Night version of it). I had grand visions of posting my set list and even doing a podcast. All these things may still be in development, but not this week. Unfortunately at 4 am the station office is not open which means no Xerox machine. No way was I hand copying my 2 page set list after doing the 2-5 am slot. As for a recording, the “Noise” dj did the show before mine (he was filling in)-think metal only more distortion, mixed up, and angrier. This is the guy who does not want anybody in the studio when he is doing his show. As a result instead of having say 15 minutes to queue up the top of my show, I had literally 10 seconds. Not a real problem, but enough to prevent getting a CD into the recorder before the intro and first song was done.

Once I miss the first few songs I really don’t see the point, the flow is gone. Ahh but lessons have been learned. Look forward to a real keeper this week and hopefully I’ll get to record it. Some highlights from last week included a song from Jason Spooner, PSAs for events that have already happened, the Transfer Station’s first request, and a splicing together of Elvin Bishop’s Fishing with Taj Mahal’s Fishing. Now folks that’s just good radio. So next time tune in and remember to phone those requests in to 860-429-WHUS.

Washboard

For our 100th post...

2006-05-22T11:42:00.000-04:00

a shout out to my old roommate Greer, who has passed the California Bar, and can now commence making rich people richer in San Diego (as well as Boston and New York).

And in her honor, let's watch some British Soldiers being dosed with LSD for research purposes:

Pat Roberts (R-Nebraska) is a COWARD

2006-05-19T15:07:00.000-04:00

"I am a strong supporter of the First Amendment, the Fourth Amendment and civil liberties. But you have no civil liberties if you are dead,’ Roberts said."

Is that so, you spineless hack? Our civil liberties withstood the might of Imperal Japan, Nazi Germany, Soviet Russia, and a tearing apart of the very fabric of our nation, but a couple of guys hiding in a cave? that's too fucking much, I suppose.

When Kruschev used his shoe as a gavel, backed by a thousand nuclear ICBMs, we spat in his eye. But Ahmed Zarquari issues a press release, backed by a couple of AK-47s, and all of a sudden we're on our knees begging? what the hell is up with that?

Pat Roberts (Chickenshit - Nebraska)

977

2006-05-19T13:12:00.000-04:00

As of 12:01 PM, EST today, there are 977 days left in the long global nightmare we call the Bush Administration.

977.

Everyday, it's a'gettin closer,
going slower than a unionized toaster...

awkward

2006-05-19T12:42:00.000-04:00

look at the guy's face when she misspeaks...

Thirty sports things to do before turning 30

2006-05-18T17:23:00.000-04:00

ok, so we're all (mostly) past the cut-off, so it's a historical list. mine in bold. yours?

30 Sports Things To Do Before You Turn 30
1. See the Kentucky Derby.
2. Catch a foul ball.
3. Hole a shot from the fairway.
4. Attend a NASCAR event - You just need to, trust me.
5. Attend a draft - Preferably the NBA or NFL (the other two major sports aren't nearly as entertaining, and if you attend the WNBA draft, don't tell anyone. Ever).
6. Hit the trifecta.
7. Win a title. In anything. It doesn't matter what.
8-10. Witness three championships in person. However you want to break that down.
11. Bowl above a 200 (in one game).
12. Compete in a triathlon. Marathons take way too much training, and 5K's are too easy. But entering one of the many mini-triathlons that take place over the course of a year is the perfect combination of achievement-without-having-to-completely-alter-your-lifestyle. A reasonably healthy person can, with some basic training, finish a quarter-mile swim, 10-mile bike ride, and 5k run without collapsing at the end like the guy in the Gatorade commercial.
13-15. Witness late game heroics. These are impossible to plan for, so you just have to see enough games to cover your bases here (no pun intended). Put a buzzer-beater in basketball, last-second FG or touchdown in football, and a walk-off home run at the top of your list. A sudden-death goal in hockey is also acceptable.
16. Other baseball abnormalities. Again, nothing you can prepare for, but catching a no-hitter, an unassisted triple play, or a player hitting for the cycle are all worthy feats to aspire to see with your own two eyes.
17. Beat Mike Tyson. Not literally, but in video game form.
18. Shoot par at Frisbee golf.
19. Win an NCAA Tournament pool.
20. Correctly predict the Final Four.
21. Win a fantasy league.
22. Win a Texas Hold 'Em Tournament.
23. Become the best of everyone you know at something.
24. Score a hat trick.
25. See one of the great rivalries in person. Eagles-Cowboys in the NFL, Montreal-Boston in the NHL, Cardinals-Cubs in baseball (trust me, it's more interesting than Yankees-Red Sox), or Duke-UNC in college hoops are some of your standard fare.
26. Gamble on sports in Vegas.
27. See a World Cup, or World Cup Qualifier.
28. Visit the various Halls of Fame. If you make it to the Baseball HOF in Cooperstown, NY, I recommend checking out the Broadcaster's Wing. Everyone inducted has a nice picture of themselves in coat and tie, looking professional, except for Harry Caray, who is pictured shirtless and in mid-yell. I kid you not.
29. Spend a weekend celebrating the holiday of college football.
30. See a fight. Take this to mean anything you want. Boxing is probably the easiest to plan for, but if your luck is good, try to catch a bench-clearing brawl in baseball or basketball. Hockey fights can be great too, but they happen too frequently to qualify here. Bonus points if the fight takes place in a rec league or (even better) charity softball game.

anyone else?

The Triumphant Return of Insomniac

2006-05-16T10:07:00.000-04:00

Last night WHUS held their monthly staff meeting and announced the summer schedule. As is always the case with this kind of radio the night promised lots of intrigue. For the record Mr. Jackson of NYC fame was the major catalyst to name the show: Transfer Station. But Washboard will be getting back to his Insomniacs roots as the show will air late Friday Night (which is technically Saturday Morning) at 2 am Washboard will be spinning the Blues (and anything else I feel like) from 2-5 am. You can listen at www.whus.org. Not only can you listen on-line, but you can IM the dj requests and strange comments (to avoid the need for a long distance call. So leave an extra 6 pack in the fridge and when the bars kick out the sierra club head to Dr.Pepe’s or Phillipe’s pad and end the night at the Transfer Station.

So listen and enjoy boys and girls and if we all stick with the blues and do our part, better times should lay ahead.

Washboard

Best WIshes...

2006-05-15T12:20:00.000-04:00

Greg over at Rogue Traveler's grandfather is having bypass surgery today - I think I speak for everyone when I wish him, and his family, all the best. If he's anything like Greg, he'll be at happy hour tomorrow night!

Hide your Daughters...

2006-05-11T11:53:00.000-04:00

Buck Fiddy is in the House!

Name My Show

2006-05-01T10:31:00.000-04:00

Well folks I have been meticulously jumping through all the requisite hoops out in Eastern CT to be awarded a radio show on WHUS. Now, through no fault of my own, I have completed all the various stages in time for the summer schedule. So Washboard will be hosting another Blues show soon! Now here’s where you come in. Spending so much time on demos, labs, and tests can really take up a lot of one’s brain space. So I am taking suggestions right here on what to name my show. So leave a comment with your best idea or two for what to name the show.

I also want to hit up the files of Thank You Mr. T-Bone. Last night while I was at the station there was an announcement that the Jason Spooner Trio would be playing ‘round town soon. I did some research and yes it is the Jason Spooner that performed live on Thank you Mr. T-Bone. While I know how everyone feels about the burbs I encourage you to experience the odyssey of a living room concert in Rockville. Jason is playing in Rockville, MD on Friday May 12. Check out his website http://www.jasonspooner.com/ and go see him.

Washboard

Walking a Fine Line

2006-04-25T11:08:00.000-04:00

I am slowly beginning to think I have control of the weather. It seems any time I consider jumping in a boat the temperature drops 20 degrees and it begins to rain. This past Saturday was no different when I went to look at a custom made Kevlar canoe that I had considered purchasing. I was told that a bunch of people were meeting at the Farmington river to go “poling” and I could take the boat out for a quick spin to see how I liked it.

Indeed a bunch of people showed up to go “poling” and there I was among them waiting in the rain for Chris to arrive. Now I must take a stab at describing this activity… Basically one person stands in the middle (but towards the back) of a canoe with a large say 15-20 foot aluminum pole instead of a paddle. Then instead of paddling you push off of the bottom with the pole to run the canoe up and down river. Having showed up for a poling demonstration I basically had to oblige the group by giving it the old college try. It was interesting and I could see how with time one could get a greater sense of control and speed out of a boat, but it was also clear that one small mistake would also mean a guaranteed soaking. Having appeased the poling gods with some basic skills I turned my attention to the boat for purchase.

After I met Chris and saw his boats I immediately realized there is a fine line between custom-made and homemade. I would say this boat would be categorized as the latter. Also Kevlar can became a Kevlar fiberglass mix-which begs the question how much fiberglass and how much Kevlar exactly is in this old beat up boat? The canoe tracked like a sailor who just got kicked out of the bar on his first night back in port. So I carefully extracted myself from the situation with a very transparent “I have to think it over, I’ll send you an e-mail soon.” And got out of there quick. So the search continues-it looks like a trip to Old Town, ME may be in the future.

Washboard

Part Two: The Aftermath

2006-04-13T16:03:00.000-04:00

(See "View From the Front" before reading)
At that point we pulled out and had to tie the canoe to the roof of the car. This was by far the hardest part of the day. As soon as we stopped paddling the cold caught up. My hands were numb. My arms were spaghetti. But there I was trying to lift the canoe onto the roof and tie all those knots I didn’t learn in Boy Scouts.

Of course it could be worse and it was-we ended up putting a paddle in dog doodie before throwing them into the car. Now we were cold, wet, and numb; rolling down the road in a car with a canoe on top that could fall off at any moment that smelled of animal feces.

Let me tell you in my entire life, I have never had a better shower. Now you can imagine our surprise to learn at the awards ceremony that we came in first place - as the only boat entered in our class. It’s amazing what people will do for a free T-shirt.

Washboard
(p.s. already Thursday and no word yet about any outstanding canoe charges)

The View From the Front

2006-04-12T13:36:00.000-04:00

We headed out in a dreary drizzle. Temps in the low 40s but Dr. Pepe and I knew it would get warmer as the day wore on. Maybe the clouds would lift. We joined other paddlers in a pre-race ritual (finding a tree in the woods) and we are ready to roll. In their infinite wisdom the organizers had us launch 3rd, with all the serious big time paddlers chasing us from behind (I guess they must have had dinner plans or something). We got off to a good start. Rolling along we even caught one guy before the kayakers began passing us by. I was up front and working hard. The rain didn’t bother me I was pushing forward. Soon I settled into my rhythm and the only pain was from the strain of kneeling for an extended period of time.

We passed Amanda and her folks on the shore and my excitement built. It was just the burst of energy my tired arms needed to push on-the race was longer and the current slower than I initially thought. I quickly spent this reserve of good tidings as the rain picked up and then turned to sleet. It wouldn’t have been a total loss except I noticed quite a bit of water in back of the canoe. “What’s going on back there?” I inquired. “We got a lot of rain water in her” replied Dr. Pepe. Now I’m looking at our gloves and Nalgene bottles floating around his feet and I know there is no way that’s all rain water. When I voiced my concern and that perhaps we should check things out I got put off.
“No we’re ok I think I just figured out what happened; we’re ok.” But I was really getting that sinking feeling.

I was skeptical. I knew that was not rain water or splashes from our paddles in our boat. We were filling up. As we approached bridges I had some serious doubts if our vessel would finish the race. I passed my concerns on to Dr. Pepe wondering aloud if we could continue. Dr. Pepe fought the good fight (feet fully submerged in water) to press on. In the front it was hard to tell how dire our situation was. My strategy was to remind Dr. Pepe we could always pull out and to trust his decision on whether to press on. Once he gave a go ahead I paddled with what my body tells me now is more than all my might.

Finally, we had to pull to the river bank and empty the canoe. Here we confirmed our worst fears. There was a long gash in the bottom of the canoe-we had a leaky boat (you can squirm and you can dance…). The best improvisation we could manage was throwing a towel over the hole and putting as much weight as we could on it. At best I considered it very sketchy.

We paddled on with our boat was filling up. For the record it becomes quite a bit more difficult to paddle and maneuver a canoe once it pulls in 10-30 gallons of water. I was working hard as hell. I was not only paddling, but leaning forward as far as I could to distribute as much weight to the front of the canoe as possible (as Dr. Pepe was slowly sinking in the back). Another dump and our load lightened once again. Then we rounded the corner and hit Eagleville dam and the wind was right in our face.

Now we were in brutal open water, face to the wind, no current, with a boat filling up as we went. We had to power through to get to a bank where we could dump before Dr. Pepe’s (rear) end went completely underwater. We didn’t make it by much but we made a quick landing (emptying out within site of the finish) at the last possible second. Then it was the sprint for the finish. For pride-no that was long gone-we saw land we saw the end and it was a great sight for two people who are too stubborn and/or stupid to know when to quite. Despite all of this and we were known as the only guys who were grinning the entire way. We enjoyed ourselves so well we were accused on having Sierras in the boat. But it didn’t matter; we had made it. Next up; the Aftermath...

Washboard

The Big bird Has Landed...

2006-04-11T17:01:00.000-04:00

went to go pick up the nuevo truck with Mr. Pony just now...some images...

What is that bright yellow thing over there?

It appears to be some sort of insect. really, how cool is this?

Sign here, or I shall smite you with mine tobacco spit! Now let me show you useless yuppies how to drive this thing, before you both ruin it.

My view, first out the front window...

Anyone have a freaking clue what all these buttons do? really?

Drag - Racing shifter, I can do this. I have two graduate degrees...damn, these brakes are awful...(overhead: Baby, what the hell did I just do?)

TWO gastanks, and we can't figure out which is which, or even how to put gas in the thing. Again, we're both not that dumb.

WE PASSED SOMEBODY! WE PASSED SOMEBODY!!!

more to come...more to come...

Before All of That

2006-04-11T10:16:00.000-04:00

Our Adventure in the Willimantic River Race was too big with too many competing parts to be contained within one post. So I am starting things off with the story of our boat-aka the hoopty canoe and will post the view from the front soon enough.

After all the trouble I had reserving a boat to rent for the race, I wasn’t going to give it up because of a little rain. So when Bill at Center Marine told me he figured I didn’t want the canoe I had reserved because of the rain, I told him I’d be there in 45 minutes.

Upon my arrival at Center Marine Bill gave me a thorough once over before asking where I would take his boat. Now like George Washington I can’t lie so I answer “probably the Willimantic.” I believe in that moment our fate was sealed. The worst boat on the premise was quickly found for our rental and as the rain picked up from a drizzle to a steady downpour we tied it to the car.

Upon arriving home I encountered the one thing to go right all weekend. The car fits (barely) in the garage with the canoe on top. So Amanda and I leave it and head to the airport to pick up Dr. Pepe.

Enjoy Dr. Pepe's Dispatch!
Washboard

The Rain, The Sleet, The Cold and The Hole – The View from the Back

2006-04-11T09:41:00.000-04:00

When we arrived at the registration tent for the 2006 Willimantic River Race, the temperature was hovering around 40 degrees and there was a steady drizzle. Not too bad for a nine-mile canoe race in Connecticut in early April. Could be worse…

Washboard was in the bow and I was in the stern. We registered in the “Canoe-Local” division, which meant that we were one of the first boats to start. The race officially began at 11:00 am, and by 11:03, we were paddling.

The rain let up a little, and we made good time for the first few miles. The Willimantic is a narrow, shallow river that moves quickly. A couple of times we bumped through some shallows, but for the most part, we were reading the river well and staying in the current. A couple of one-man canoes caught up and passed us. After a while, we were sweating and taking off our thick ski gloves. The scenery was great and we were totally enjoying ourselves, smiling and waving to spectators on the bridges.

As we were nearing the halfway point, the rain picked up considerably. The kayaks had caught up to us and we fell in behind them, running their lines. Once or twice, we bottomed out, brushing against a hidden rock in a section where the kayak had breezed through. Despite the cold and the rain, our spirits were still high.

It was around this time that I started to notice a fair amount of water in the back of the boat. I thought back to the last bridge we had gone under, where a woman had observed, “You sure got a lot of water in the back of that boat.” I had shrugged off the comment, a little embarrassed that our tie-ups in the shallow water had caused enough splashing to collect a puddle large enough to be spotted from 20 feet away. I mentioned the puddle to Washboard and suggested that the rain might be contributing to the problem. He paused mid-stroke, turned to look and the water, and said “Naw, probably not.” I agreed, a bit perturbed that my sloppy paddling and inexperienced navigation were slowing us down.

As the first of the two-man canoes came into sight behind us, the weather turned nasty. The rain had changed to sleet, and the temperature continued to drop. Washboard yelled out, “Holy shit, man, this ain’t rain, this is sleet. It’s friggin’ sleeting out here.” Sure enough, little white pellets were collecting in the folds of my North Face shell. I realized that I was definitely colder than I had been at the start of the race. The temperature had dropped significantly.

By now, it was getting hard to paddle. The canoe was no longer steady. If I reached out too far to my left, the boat would tip and lurch. I glanced down at the water at my feet. Minutes before, the water had been lapping at the heels of my shoes. Now, it was above the soles. I was struggling to get the boat through turns. Washboard and I debated whether to pull over and dump the canoe, and then agreed that it was inevitable.

After the first dump, I still harbored the illusion that it was just a combination of sloppy paddling and steady rain/sleet that was causing the boat to fill up. Washboard was dubious. Every time he looked back, more and more water was swilling around my feet. The ski gloves and Nalgenes in the bottom of the canoe began to float. The gunnels were about five inches from the surface of the water, and the slightest lean brought us perilously close to swamping. We had to dump again. We pulled to the shore flipped the boat, and I saw it. A one inch gash running along the spine of the boat. I put my arm inside the boat and pressed a finger against where I thought the crack might be. Pink flesh pushed up through the blue fiberglass hull. We were leaking…fast.

We estimated that we had about two or three miles left. We wedged an extra towel into the crack and laid our full Nalgenes on top of it. Nearly, the entire field had passed us at this point, so there was no need to rush. Our goal was to make it to the finish, a task that even Washboard was doubting. Luckily, the towel slowed the leak, and I realized that with a little determination and a few more dumps along the shore, we could make it. We weren’t going to win anything (other than the “Spirit” award), but we would finish.

After a quarter mile or so, we dumped again, tucked the soaking towel, and started back on the water. The rain, the sleet, the cold, the hole—all these were secondary. All we wanted to do was finish. As we passed under a bridge we asked, “How much further?”

“About a quarter mile,” a young girl called back. Washboard asked if I thought we should bail out of the race here and let them shuttle us back to the finish. I said I thought we could make it. So, we limped our way under the bridge and powered toward the finish.

The end of the race was Eaglesville Dam, which temporarily turned the shallow, quickwater of the Willimantic into a quarter-mile long, deep-water lake. The hills and bluffs that had enclosed us for the first eight-and-a-half miles of the trip had flattened into nubby, winter-yellow fields and wind-swept marshes. We entered the slow, flat water of the home stretch equidistant from either shore. The boat was full, and a headwind met us out of the south. We dug in as much as we could. One last team motored by us, both paddlers in perfect sync, alternating sides each time the stern man yelled “Hup!” Both paddlers wore tight-fitting polypro shorts and shirts, sweating profusely despite the cold. They were unaware of our situation, but still offered some encouragement, “Almost there, guys!”

Unfortunately, we weren’t almost there. We badly needed to pull over to the shore for one last dump. Washboard was panicked. The gunnels were less than three inches from the surface, and we were still 200 yards from shore. We both knew that if my end of the canoe swamped, our boat would be resting at the bottom of the lake in a matter of minutes. We struggled for the shore, hitting sand just as the water in the bottom of the canoe crested above my ankles. We could see the finish line less than 500 yards away. We dumped, wedged the towel and braced into the wind and rain for the final sprint home.

As we pulled up to Eaglesville Dam, no one could tell what we had been through. The canoe looked fairly sturdy and dry. Washboard’s wife Amanda and her dad stood under umbrellas waiting for us, relieved. The EMTs greeted us with a few snickers and a “Ya missed the burgers and beers, boys.” The first place boat had finished with a time of 140 minutes. We had pulled in at 197 minutes. But our pride was intact. We had brought her home – despite the rain, the sleet, the cold and the hole.

Well this throws a spanner in the works, don't it?

2006-04-06T12:25:00.000-04:00

Recently a new gospel was translated (I'm not so religious myself, my family couldn't hack the rigorous demands of Unitarianism, after all, but still) the long awaited Gospel of Judas. Apparently it was cited in a work by Irenaeus, the Bishop of Lyons in 180, so people had been looking out for it. (sidebar: I thought reviewing modern citations for my term paper sucked, imagine trying to find references from 1815 years ago! think that's covered by Google Scholar?)

The Times has a nice review today. And it's something I thought about for a while, as a kid, when, in order to fit in to the cub scout troop, I got sent to Sunday School for a few months. Basically, Judas, and by extension, Jews, have been reviled by 'good Christians' for a couple of millenia because "Jews killed Jesus" (ok, fine, there were a lot of other bad reasons having to do with money lending, the need for scapegoats and the like, but this is the front that was put up for the masses) and this doesn't make any sense to me. Sure, the killing of Jesus was a bad thing (if you buy it, that is) but honestly, without the betrayal and execution (and subsequent rising) of Jesus, doesn't the whole Christian Faith as commonly practiced simply fall to pieces? That guy standing at the Superbowl with the John 3:16 sign should be thanking Judas, not berating him. Judas, alone among the Disciples, put the needs of the faith, and of his God, first, without the betrayal, there is no crucifixtion, no Easter. Jesus becomes a prophet, and the early Christians remain Jews. Instead of going out to buy my Easter Lamb this weekend, I'd be out looking for Gefilte Fish. (hey, just cause I'm not religious doesn't mean I don't take advantage of an excuse to eat lamb and mint jelly)

So who is the person most responsible for the Christian Myths, the entire backbone of the religion? Judas Iscariot. And what does he get for it? two millenia of revulsion. Gee, Thanks, God! You let Peter, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John get all the props, heck, kids are still being named after them, but Judas? the guy who did the heavy lifting? two thousand years of persecution of a religion that happens to share his name. What if his name was Christopher, would that justify 2000 years of going apeshit on Christians?

gosh, I hate it when the facts seem to get in the way of a good group hate.

And a positive note, to accompany the negative

2006-04-03T13:14:00.000-04:00

The next random blog? How the West was... And it's in Dutch, so I can't read it, but it does have this absolutely fabulous picture on it. Not sure what's going on here, but it's good for a laugh, at least.

http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1054/2622/1600/gonny%20019.jpg

If You Hate...

2006-04-03T13:05:00.000-04:00

So, whilst wandering the random blog-o-button (it's up there in the top right, if you really want to waste time) I stumbled on Oh...For the Life of Reilly who seems to be from New Jersey. And I noticed this top post, titled If you hate...your probably a liberal (sic).

This is what I learned.

I learned that I apparently hate a lot of things. Better that, methinks than the alternative, which is, roughly, if you hate spell-check, homonyms and the correct use of the possessive and conjunctive apostrophe, you probably hate liberals. One question comes to mind, I must say...it seems to me from my readings of the Federalist Papers, the Bible and a Constitution, they all seem to love good spelling and decent grammatical structure. Does that mean God, Alexander Hamilton and good ol' TJ were, in fact, liberals? hmm, interesting thought.

words matter.

Musings on advertising

2006-04-03T12:48:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking, this weekend, about the effects of advertising, especially on me. After all the comments about the Tahoe commericals that flew around the old internet this past week, and the idea that really, I'm never going to buy one, and I don't think anyone on this blog will buy one (we like our trucks old and yellow, apparently) but still, I now know that there is a new Chevy Tahoe, for a lot less per person than a couple of ads in the Final Four would do (especially if they featured Coach K, corrallary one: if your team is eliminated from the tournament, your ads should be as well, are you riding a winner if they're sitting home in Durham getting ready for the 2006 Bulls' Season?). I dunno.

But still, all this must work. Do the sometimes brilliant Mastercard ads? (you can make your own of those as well, you know, but you can't publish them like Tahoe did, not as smart, guys) make me want to pull out my Mastercard? well no, since I don't have one. I find that I respond much more to targeted internet advertising, one click and I can find a new place to buy something, than TV stuff. Occasionally, of course, we all learn something new from TV ads, a new product that seems entertaining, or the like. and we've all sent around various funny commericals to watch. (Pony is especially obsessed with the Bud Light couples ads during March Madness. I missed the followup during the Mason game on Saturday) So what's the point? We still don't drink Bud Light, at least by choice. And does anyone really not know that Bud Light exists? Surely, there's a point here.

So, a question. Anyone ever knowingly been influenced by a clever ad on TV? gone to a website, bought a sample? Everyone must have, I'll try to think of a time that I was and follow up with it.

enough commercialism.

More Tahoe Commericals

2006-04-02T14:26:00.000-04:00

Anne over at Incendiary Advice was kind enough to post more links to the infamous Tahoe Commercial, including the original one. Seems that the good people at YouTube were able to snag a couple before Chevy pulled them down.

I hear a lot, really, from people saying what a stupid idea this whole thing was for chevy, how they left themselves wide open for bad PR and getting laughed at. Well sure, but how else was Chevy's Tahoe division going to get themselves talked about in the blogosphere? not too shabby, a couple of million bucks in PR, and some much needed buzz, all for a website.

Have you seen my new Chevy Tahoe Commercial?

2006-03-30T12:45:00.000-05:00

no? of course you haven't. But you should. watch it here

Canary Yellow? you be the judge:

2006-03-23T12:30:00.000-05:00

apparently, it's some fancy name, '1992 cobra yellow' or something like that. Still, if it looks like a canary...Tweet!

Shoot First

2006-02-16T17:35:00.000-05:00

I can’t believe we are still absent a post on the most recent developments of our “2nd in command”, so I will go ahead and jump in. Good ole Dick finally found a way to top dropping an F bomb on the senate floor by shooting his hunting partner. Here’s my favorite quote, “I’m the guy who pulled the trigger and shot my friend”. Well I guess what they say is true with friends like this…And it took Dick until Wednesday to come up with that zinger! Still it could make a good country song. If only Johnny Cash were around to record that one we could kick back and hear it on the HT jukebox.

Now let’s also discuss the topic of sportsmanship. I would like to note that the wounds managed to range from the victims chest to face. I know I am not a hunting expert but that is quite a significant dispersal of ammunition. It hardly seems sporting to me to hunt a bird with what amounts to at least a three foot dispersal of ammo. Additionally, it turns out our “pal” was also hunting out of a truck. I mean why stop there he has the whole secret service at his disposal-why not just have a few agents flush some birds into the Chopper blades?

Still I can’t help but think this whole incident does clear some things up-at least in my mind. Now that I see how Cheney treats his friends; I am beginning to understand some of his decisions about how to run our country.

Washboard

Occasionally a forward is worth forwarding.

2006-02-03T10:01:00.000-05:00

This year, both Groundhog Day and the State of the Union address occur on the same day.

It is an ironic juxtaposition of events: one involves a meaningless ritual in which we look to a creature of little intelligence for prognostication while the other involves a groundhog.

* received. yes. as a forward. thanks to those that are so witty.

Not the Next American Idol

2006-02-02T16:35:00.000-05:00

NO this has nothing to do with Simon, Paula, or Randy. I recently found out that Chris Titchner has been nominated for two local music awards and in addition to providing the drum tracks I am serving as self appointed grassroots coordinator. Everyone should go to www.indyweek.com by Feb 18 and vote for Chris Titchner (Best Folk Artist) and Chris’ CD, Moving Day (Best Folk Album). The link to voting is in the upper left hand corner. You can check out tracks at www.christitchner.com and I believe there is a picture in the June achieves of this blog of Dr. Pepe and Washboard playing with Chris. Happy voting I know Chris appreciates it. Feel free to vote like a Republican (early and often).

Washboard

Sometimes You Fall - Sometime You Fight - It's Just Life - Enjoy the Ride

2006-02-01T14:48:00.000-05:00

Music is an amazing thing. There always seems to be a song to denote an occassion, whether it's the memory of an amazing trip, that special kiss, a place you learned something about yourself, a loss, a sense of freedom, or maybe just perfect timing. But now, if for every full day (or week or month) of music we listen to, only one song strikes us that we don't just agree with, but that sticks with that memory, then what does that say about our personality? I mean, the song we choose to listen to reflects what kind of person we are, no?

Well maybe it just makes us feel less alone in life, knowing someone else out there feels the same. Or maybe it's just reflective of our emotions at that moment. But I think a song can change our perseption on life... if we're willing to listen to the words.

My Truck

2006-01-30T11:24:00.000-05:00

So I have a truck. And yes, it's a big truck. It'a Super Duty F250 Crew Cab V10....

I'm not sure what a truck does for girls, whether it's a turn-off or a turn on. Good friends always told me that a good man would love it. I practically had a Ford saleswoman jump on my yesterday at the auto show when I told her I actually owned one, a big one. She'd said it was so great to see a woman in there. I hadn't thought much about it until I remembered how it used to be...

Whenever I pulled up to gas stations with a guy, inevitably this is how the conversation would go:

stranger: "Nice Truck"
guy: "thanks"
stranger: "what do you have in that thing"
guy: "uh (looking at the side of the truck) V10 (hoping that was the right answer)"
stranger: "off road package, pretty cool"
guy: "thanks"
stranger: "how does it drive"
guy: "um, great, powerful"
stranger: "been looking in to getting one. what's the (insert here - horsepower, gas mileage, transmission like)?"
guy: "uh....."

If the guy knew me well, sometimes he'd play it up pretty good. I didn't care, hey if he felt like he was getting some glory, all the better for 'em. But usually by the time I came back out from paying for the gas-gussler, he would admit to the man that it was in fact my truck, often because he was at a loss (or couldn't lie in front of me). But it was sure funny watching him scramble. And even though I always drove, they never assumed it was mine. Especially when I was dressed in a skirt and heels :)

Funny though, I still inevitably got surprised at seeing other women have big trucks (at least in areas that aren't completely horsey). I'd think, man, that's a powerful women. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. Then suddenly remember I was driving one too. So now I'm deciding on whether to sell it. It's such a cool truck, and so much fun to drive. But not very practical in the city. If I do though, god I'll miss it (and all the funny looks!)

Chronicles of the Open Mic (First Dispatch)

2006-01-27T11:15:00.000-05:00

I decided to start off low risk-someplace close to home (or as “I like to say I’m not going to pay a lot for this muffler”). That took me to the Heart & Soul Café. The first fear with a name like Heart & Soul is if I am walking into a Christian Open Mic. The second is if it might be a spiritual healing sort of scene.

I am happy to report that neither was the case and in fact there was an eerie absence of total freaks and not a sub par musician in the house. In fact the first good sign when I walked in was the presence of both a mic and an amplifier. You can never be too sure, especially considering this place was about the size of my living room and there were about 8 people there. It was truly the type of open mic where everyone performs and everyone stays for the duration. Next time I’ll do like Lana and bring a flask to extend the enjoyment. Had an enjoyable evening and even enjoyed an essay that picked up some major themes from The Progress Paradox by TMQ maestro Craig Easterbrook.

All in all it was an interesting cast of characters. Here’s my run down of the folks; the recent college grads (I suspect some living at home), one or two that may have even been in college, the 40 year old African American woman (who wore a black beret and kept talking about all her friends that died of AIDES), and the best of all a 60 year old folk singer that kind of looks like a Muppet with that mustache. He talked about war, frozen blueberries, and seemed somehow fixated on the derrière as a poetic device in his songs. Well, sometimes I guess you have to be there to really understand. Good people all good people. If they could somehow be combined that would be one hell of a protagonist-but I digress. I did enjoy myself. Who knows I may even go back; but as for people to really start jamming with there was nothing there.

So the search continues and I guess that really is the progress paradox. Now that I have a basement/drum room I can’t find people to jam with (at least for now). Stay tuned for the next Dispatch from more perilous venues of free speech.

Washboard

Chronicles of the Open Mic (Taking the Plunge)

2006-01-27T11:01:00.000-05:00

Well no one can question my desire to find people to jam with at this stage. Having burned through craigslist and plenty of other listserves/blogs and the like; I now find myself doing what I had hoped to avoid all along. That’s right its time to hit the open mic circuit. Recently, I have been thinking that it some ways the open mic is the musical equivalent of the Wednesday Nite. All are welcome and usually those who show up (for better or worse) represent views far out of the mainstream.

But as many of us know there can be a downside to allowing anyone to get up and perform. So now I will brave the perils of free expression and speech. Join me on my odyssey and see what can happen where everyone is welcome.

Washboard

Stormy Monday Blues (So Much for Better Weather)

2006-01-24T10:39:00.000-05:00

Ah the trials and tribulations of the Wednesday Nite Sierra Club’s Northeast Extension. Yesterday I awoke to find out I had to go to work despite three inches of snow on my driveway and the fact that it was still snowing quite hard and would be until noon. Now these situations can cause serious quandary. You cannot just leave the snow, but when you shovel mother nature covers your work quickly. It is almost impossible to use the snow blower effectively while it is snowing.

Well finally I cleared the drive enough to leave. I jumped into my care turned the key-dead battery. So I had to get a ride to the bus stop and fight my way in on foot. When I returned home I couldn’t even jump my car. So I drove Amanda’s car to Napa Auto Parts and bought a new battery. Of course a new battery isn’t fully charged so I had to jump start my car AFTER installing the new battery.

Still I wouldn’t want to be in Florida perhaps the most pedestrian unfriendly state in the pedestrian unfriendly south. I revel in the irony of weather that is so nice and everyone driving even the shortest of distances.

Once everything settled down (and yes the Blue-Green started this morning like a dream) I realized that the battery on my car had never been replaced. The Blue-Green was born in 1994 not a bad life for a little battery (replacement cost $68)-but don’t they pick the worst times to break down…

what i learned in florida

2006-01-23T15:35:00.000-05:00

1. you can spill mustard on an orange shirt and no one will notice

2. when staying somewhere, make sure they have a blanket for you

3. do not stand in the wind with a wind blocker. no matter what the producer says, it will try its best to knock you over

4. remember moleskin. you never know when you'll get a blister

5. never voluntarily give up a weekend when you know you'll have to get up at 6:00 in the morning.

...but yes, the weather is better there.

Trucking, got my chips cashed in...

2006-01-11T17:30:00.000-05:00

He Has Risen, Hon.

2006-01-11T13:37:00.000-05:00

So, our lovely neighbors to the north, I speak, of course, of Ballmer, have changed their city slogan to 'Believe.' not sure what I'm supposed to believe, that the Orioles are good? that Brian Billick is an offensive mastermind? that the Bay is nice and clean now? Luckily, someone has found the light, and annouced their belief in Him...

All Praise the FSM- May you all be touched by His Noodly Appendage.

Tip o' the hat to Phil Plait over at Bad Astronomy for the lead to the Baltimore City Paper from whence this image first came.

So, over at Chris's place

2006-01-10T21:20:00.000-05:00

is his complaint about a Cingular commercial. Apparently, having commericals shot in your neighborhood is a pain in the ass. I'll trade that any day for having drug dealers shot in your neighborhood...

Tuesday Panda Blogging

2006-01-10T21:08:00.000-05:00

So, I get lucky enough to snag two tickets to the hottest show in town: Tai Shan. So I head on up to the National Zoo on the nicest morning you could ever hope for, sunny, crystal clear and warm (for January) to see the little guy. And he was actually doing something! Of course, I can't upload the ridiculously bad video my phone takes, but I can honestly say, if you have the chance to see a six month old panda cub get rambunctious, I heartily recommend it.

The Role of Semantics in the Rising Costs of Health Care

2006-01-09T08:12:00.000-05:00

In case anyone is wondering; razor blades are not a good way to cut holes in tennis balls. However, attempting this feat can lead to an exciting joy ride in an ambulance and several stitches. During this whole process (which began last Monday evening) I have observed that doctors use huge words where a simple one would more than suffice. For example I would describe what happened as a cut (albeit a really bad one). But in the ER (where you would think they are pressed for time) it’s a laceration. That’s at least three more syllables than necessary. I do know they are pressed for time in that ER as I had to wait hours and when things did happen they happened all at once. I was getting shots of Novocain in my right hand and a tetanus shot in my left shoulder at the same time. This caused quite the conundrum as I typically like to look the other direction when I’m getting a shot.

After popping in a few stitches I was bandaged up; then the Doctor placed a huge piece of foam on the table. They molded the foam over my hand and arm and covered it with a splint announcing it would harden in the next couple of minutes. I wanted to say, “Hey Doc it’s pretty deep, but it’s just a cut-excuse me laceration.”

Now just for fun try tucking your shirt in or going to the bathroom (#2 for greatest effect) without using your right hand. It really is amusing (but can get tiresome after say ten minutes). So I was very relieved when I went to see the hand doctor today (they call themselves Orthopedic Surgeons) and he pulled out the scissors and cut the darn thing off. He went on to pull a MacGyver; using a twisted paperclip to test for feeling in various parts of my hand. So just when I thought I found a Doc that was down to earth he told me how difficult is was to “suture” (pronounced Sue-chur) muscle. But I soon figured out that suture means the same thing as sew. Alas he then replaced my monstrous splint/cast combo deal with two band aids.

Maybe if it were just a matter of sewing a cut and popping two band aids on it the cost of health care would be a little more reasonable in this country. But then I might not get that joy ride in the ambulance.

A Festivus Miracle

2006-01-05T10:54:00.000-05:00

This past holiday season brought about a true Festivus Miracle. Amanda returned from school one day in late December and pulled three items from her bag. They were the three remote controls which have previously been reported missing on this blog since our move in June. I thought I would never see them again I was ready to call pioneer to buy a new remote for the stereo. No one has ever been so happy to see the remote for their television. Apparently they were thrown in a box of Amanda’s teaching materials which she did not open until December.

It truly has been a joyous Festivus for the rest of us. Next up the feats of strength.

Washboard

Smoke 'em if you got 'em

2006-01-04T21:24:00.000-05:00

but only for 2006. The City Council just approved a blanket smoking ban for indoor DC. Probably a good idea, but some places will never be the same. How can you play pool without smoking? It just doesn't make sense. And now walking into a bar will entail weaving through the crowd of exiled smokers.

Still, it's probably a good idea.

New Jersey: Where the boys get lucky

2005-12-24T02:28:00.000-05:00

and the girls have to settle.

Congratulations to Pony and his Firecracker.

G-dawg from Ohio's in Kathmandu...

2005-12-24T02:21:00.000-05:00

no, not eddie from Ohio, not bob seger, but our very own g-dawg is exploring the sprawling confines of Nepal and dodging Maoist 'insurgents'. read about his latest adventures on his friendster blog...

And, in his honor, a little Bob Seger....

I ain’t got nothin’ ’gainst the east coast.
You want some people where they got the most!
And new york city’s like a friendly ghost;
You seem to pass right through.
I know I’m gonna miss the usa.
I guess I’ll miss it every single day.
But no one loves me here anyway!
I know my plane is due.

The one that’s going to katmandu.
Up to the mountain’s where I’m going to.
If I ever get out of here,
That’s what I’m gonna do.

see you all New Year's Eve, when Dr. Pepe, Washboard and myself (with two of the three little ladies in accompaniment) will be checking out Last Train Home at Iota. Worth a ticket, if you can get one.

it's "what you do"

2005-12-01T18:18:00.000-05:00

I never drank in California, or only on rare occasions. Yet in DC? All the freakin time. Am I a lush? Hmmm... I don't think so. See, when I go home to California I rarely pick up a drink. What is the need here? Well, it's "what you do". I don't know if people would know what to do with themselves if they didn't have the option. I had a friend who claimed to be an "east coaster" by nature and blood, and in his statements about this infamous "east coast" he made excuses for his drinking behavior in California, stating that's "what you do". Well, years later I found out he's right. No don't get me wrong, he's still a lush and that was just an excuse (I think he drank just to see where he'd wake up!), but it is "what you do" here.

That said, I'm going to get a drink...

To The Rescue

2005-10-22T09:18:00.000-04:00

Well it seems my power is only revealed in my absence. So I am jumping back in to do a little Wednesday Nite revival. We will have Wednesday Night this week all former and new members welcome. Cameos are expected. E-mail me if you are in. We can go old school HT or Rhodeside or Nuevo someplace downtown. No excuses this week-there will be tales of the new job, Vito's bad habits (and there costs), and missing remote controls. May it be the last time that the office decides its a good investment to send me down to DC. Now onto the shenanigans!

Washboard

7th Wheel

2005-10-18T14:49:00.000-04:00

Bocce... the sport of kings, and Kickball... the sport of 5th graders, brought a turn of events to Wednesday night. I was new to the club when I joined, and still don't have too much to claim of its history. But I fear the tradition of Wednesday Night is fading. Less posting, less comradery, and less drinking has been taking place. In it's sted... some kickball and talk of 7 wheels. Blasphemy I say, and what happened to the club I joined 6 months ago? I know that all good things come in flux, so may I assume that Winter will show a brighter future? I suppose we shall see...

Why doesn't anyone come to pro-war protests?

2005-09-25T18:36:00.000-04:00

according to the Washington Post, a whopping 400 people showed for the pro-war, sorry, "defend and honor our troops" rally today on the Mall. 400. 50-75,000 showed for the anti-war protest yesterday. and yet, somehow, the wingnuts get a Senator to speak, not a prominent Dem showed Saturday. Get some backbone, folks, you're drawing 50 thousand people and don't have the cojones to speak, but Jeff Sessions will speak to 400? What do you think that makes you look like, huh?

2005-09-09T09:54:00.000-04:00

Is this why FEMA is keeping the media out of New Orleans?

Someone Finally Decides to Can It

2005-09-06T10:29:00.000-04:00

Recently on a dispatch to the Vermont Brewers Festival I had a chance to catch up with a true Wednesday Nite pioneer. Phillipe we must travel back through the history books to the WWNST. For those of you scratching your noodle; I am talking about the Williams Wednesday Night Silver Turkey. The pioneer is Ghostrider. Now for those of you outside the inner circle (and even some within) this may require a little explanation. For starters to protect the guilty we must only use beer die names. Predating the Wednesday Nite the WWNST cast scorn on the rulemaking of certain institutions of higher education, which shall remain nameless. Ghostrider moved beyond convention to provide location and libation to the masses every Wednesday Nite in the true spirit of a prohibition era speakeasy. Unlike so many less dedicated beer drinkers he did not start working for an investment banking firm, nonprofit, association or even future-based employment after graduating from college. Ghostrider is now operating a brewery in Rhode Island.

Check out the Coastal Extreme Brewery at http://www.newportstorm.com/index.asp. Now Ghostrider is not resting on his accomplishments. Ever the innovator he has finally provided an alternative for your camping and float trips. That’s right he did the unthinkable, the original; dare I say the beautiful. He put good beer in can. On the surface it seems counterintuitive but friends let me tell you when bottles are prohibited or just plain a bad idea what are your choices? We let’s be nice and just say not good. Until now. I say hats off and bottoms up to Ghostrider for his creative thinking. Newport Storm is available in Massachusetts, Rhode Island Connecticut, and “parts of Virginia”. So next time you head down the Rappahannock check it out.

Washboard