A Free Man

One of my favorite things about blogging is that I can get inspiration from fellow bloggers. Some days, the creative juices just don’t flow and a read of a great post by someone else can give me the kick start I need to get my own fingers working. Since I saw Florida Girl In Sydney’s dodgy old photo and the dodgy love story that accompanied it, I’ve been looking for an excuse to break out some of my photo archives. I found a vehicle for that desire in Arizaphale’s recent NaBlowSomethingorOther posts featuring excerpts from her diaries of the mid 90’s.

Regrettably, I’ve got some diaries from the mid-90’s as well, but while Arizaphale was cooking up a beautiful baby girl in Britain, I was wandering the streets of Seattle pretty much aimlessly. I pulled out one of my diaries from the Spring of ‘95 just to have a little trip down memory lane. Let me set the stage for you. I was 23 years old, in the previous winter my life had taken an ugly turn. My brief and unfortunate marriage (one day I’ll give y’all the goods on this) had fallen apart sending me into a spiral of self-pity, self-destruction and substance abuse. I had quit a stable, but boring, job to pursue a “career” as a freelance photographer.

Things start off inauspiciously…

27 March 1995

…I guess what I’m trying to do is come to terms with what is either the long awaited achievement of happiness and success that I’ve been striving for or the complete loss of touch with reality that I’ve expected for years…

(Spoiler: It’s the latter)

30 March 1995

I think that the last 48 hours have been some of the happiest of my life - beginning Wenesday morning - woke up early - downtown to drop of film with KK at 11 - got a little work through him. Ran into NW in Westlake Park and sat in the sun with him for a while - watched women and talked shit… 

(I’ll spare you the details - booze, drugs, work, women, delusions of grandeur. And then, two days later…)

1 April - Bauhaus*

Trying to stay up while things are falling apart around me. Money - there is none - work - there is little. I’ve got to stay on it somehow - I’m not sure how to stay sane?

And then…

2 April -Bauhaus

Seattle is gray and drizzly - still short(er) of money - survival in question I’m not unhappy - frightened, unhappy and somehow depressed - a general disdain for people again - the unadulterated adoration for life has, not surprisingly, disappeared. God is dead and noone cares. 

So, we’ve learned that I was an unstable, self-important yet self-loathing, misanthropic dickhead. Let’s see what else we can glean from the lost diaries of A Free Man*. What was a typical day like in the Spring of ‘95?

4 June 1995

Another fucking hangover - smoke to cure it - went out last night with P and M - drank shitloads of beer at Linda’ - talked shit about philosophy and literature - Henry Miller, suicide, bullshit. We drank way to much at Linda’s and then more at Beatnix later on. Blew a shitload of money. Ate ecstasy, which did not work - went to the Re-bar for a while - took half a tab of acid which did work. I spotted a waitress who was just a dream, slicked back hair, collar, translucent clothes - so I tore my ad out of The Stranger and said “Hi. My name is Chris. This is who I am. I’d like to take you out for a drink.” She, of course, didn’t jump on the Chris-wagon (cringe) but she told me her name and to come back and see her. On the way somewhere, I found half a bottle of Jim Beam which we drank in the bushes near City Market with a drunken Indian bum. We needed food and went up to Broadway - M bought Taco Bell…

The glamorous life of the American hipster. There are days and days of entries like this, recollections of nights of drinking, drugs and failing to pick up women. It should come as no surprise, then, that there are nearly an equal number of entries like this:

6 June 95 - #7 Bus

Just when I think my life might be under control, I am even further gone - more bounced checks - head in space. M wants to go to NYC, I may go with him. I think that it’s definitely time to get out of Seattle. Things are closing in around me - a noose of sorts (drama queen). Escape seems the only option. At the studio, things began to deteriorate - cancelled shoot, someone who was supposed to pick up some prints and pay didn’t. K broke my lamp. God damn. God damn. I’m plastic I’m a smokescreen. I need to be saved. I’m shaking like a speed freak. I’m at fucking Bauhaus of all goddamned places. I’m not in control of my life.

And repeat. Repeatedly. Every now and again, there are moments of surprising clarity:

3 May ‘95 - Volunteer Park

…the practical purpose of this journal is an effective surrogate memory. Something I can refer to in the future that will define this period of my life - I know that change is inevitable - I feel it all around me all the time - I don’t know, however, if the change is going to be good…I think I may have already forgotten some of the lessons I’ve learned. That is what I need to remember - what I learn. Right now I’m learning:

1.  Pot and bourbon are bad for motivation.
2. I treat women badly.
3. Money is the most destructive, consuming factor for my soul.
4. What feels good is not always what is best for you.

Not particularly groundbreaking, but surprisingly clearheaded. Of course, the following day:

…bought more pot, got drunk with rednecks in Tukwila on a Friday night, blew off the only woman I’ve had sex with in a while…

I’ll spare you the rest of the gory details. But let’s take a look at how it ends, the last entry:

23 June 95 - Bauhaus

Is new hope, renewed hope, the key to my survival, my evolution, my success? I don’t know. Three months ago: “I’m excited to see where things lead…” two days ago “no more now.”

I guess what needs to happen is salvation. But salvation tends to not come when you call it. Have to work for it. Salvation lies within oneself. I want to find it. I’m going to find it.

I’m going to go home. Listen to Jane’s Addiction. Work.

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It didn’t quite work that way. It took me another decade to find what I was looking for and it wasn’t within me.

When I write a post like I did the other day, I’m still flabbergasted that they are my words. I spent so much of my teens and twenties being erratic, depressed, manic, drunk, high and, above all, unhappy. Sometimes I wish I could go back to Seattle in 1995 and smack my 23 year old self in the head and say, “It’s not that hard, dumb ass. You put one foot in front of the other and get the hell on with it. Live in the day.”

I will take one piece of advice from a 1995 not-so-free man. I’m going to listen to Jane’s Addiction and do some work.

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*I apparently spent an incredible amount of time in this Capitol Hill coffee shop.

** With apologies to Sue Townsend.

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With the erratically enforced no major label music here, I thought that Chris Smither’s cover of the song that inspired this post’s title was a better choice. Smither is a Florida born finger pickin’ folkie and this Dylan cover is nearly as good as the original. Buy his latest, “Leaving the Light On” here.

 

 Chris Smither - "Visions of Johanna" [5:23m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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I’ve literally got students coming out the wazoo today, so I’ll keep things short and simple…

After ranting about premature Christmas decorations and my general disdain for the holiday, I’ve been tasked with coming up with a personalized message for my company’s Christmas cards. This is, by far, the most difficult three or four sentences I’ve ever had to churn out. Any suggestions?

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I’m pleased to be the host for Mendel’s Garden #26. Mendel’s Garden, the genetics blog carnival, is looking for the best genetics posts in the blogosphere. I’m hosting the December edition and am actively looking for submissions. Everything from transcription to evolution to genetic counseling and social implications of genetics research are welcome. I’m particularly interested in non-specialists, so if you’ve got something that you could tag with “genetics” send it my way. If you’d be interested in having a post featured, please e-mail me your latest and greatest to chris (at) afreeman (dot) org.

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Finally, when things have gotten harried this week, I’ve turned to this video for a dose of serenity. The internets are awash with cute kid videos, but I have the cutest kid (and possibly the most patient dog) around.

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Image Credit

I’d never heard of The Bouncing Souls until this track came my way, but I can’t stop listening to it. They’ve been around for ages and I’m thinking of checking out more of the New Jersey quartet’s music. Buy the self-titled record that featured “Serenity” and other records here.

 

 Podcast Video: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 The Bouncing Souls - "Serenity" [2:28m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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It’s an excited free man coming to you from the bottom of the globe today. I’ve been racking my brain since my undeserved windfall yesterday to come up with the best use of a year of sponsored free time. I’m leaning towards adding some tools to me personal toolbox. My university isn’t the best academic institution in South Australia, but it’s definitely the most vocationally oriented. They offer a wide range of one year graduate certificates that are targeted to people like me. What I’m trying to work out is what would be my best bet for enhancing my career opportunities  - a certificate in secondary education to give me more teaching opportunities? Should I learn to write properly and do some communications course work? What about a business certificate so I can put that suit to good use? Or should I consider my geography and get some environmental engineering or water management know how?

A lot of you, my readers, are clever people. If you were given a chance to retool your career, what would you focus on? What careers are  going to be in demand in the next decade or so? Any economic Nostradami out there? Australian opinions are particularly welcome.

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Speaking of paying the bills, you may have noticed some changes up at the top of my sidebar. Now, I’ve never been a big fan of advertising or sponsored posting or any of the money making ploys that some folks employ. But a self-hosted site isn’t free and while I’m not blogging to be a millionaire, I’d like to at least not lose money in this gig. So, I’m grateful to BlogHer (and Nichole for pointing me there), the community for women who blog, for taking me on despite being demonstrably not a woman. Says so on the box, in fact. Once we get the code sorted out, there will be a likely pretty garish ad dominating the top of my side bar. Beyond having to scroll a bit further down the page to get to recent comments (which Dr. O’C has already given me an earful about) nothing else will change here at A Free Man.  So don’t call me an ad whore or I’ll put my dog on you.

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Now, I typically don’t get into the whole blog award game, but having just gotten a golden egg laid on my lap I figure it’s time to start paying back some of that karmic debt. I found this present from Bluestreak this morning on her site. I don’t speak Spanish, but I’m pretty sure that this means I am now queen of butterflies that land on toilet paper rolls. My first order of business as Lepidoptera Queen is to secure some knights of the loo roll realm. So, here are eight bloggers who have written posts recently that earned them a tap with our royal scepter:

1. Bobbie at The Right Blue for her post on photosynthetic nudibranches.
2. Maggie at Okay, Fine, Dammit on her encounter with a 10 year old me.
3. Boyhowdy at Cover Lay Down for his most recent edition of kidfolk. If you’ve got kids and like music, this is for you.
4. Doug at Hey Jenny Slater for outstanding college football coverage.
5. Matthew at Pop Songs 07-08 who managed to score a series of guest posts by Michael Stipe.
6. Strange Scottish Girl at Wake Up It’s Tuesday has been on lately.
7. I’ve been stalking Breaking The Ice lately and it’s time to out myself.
8. Finally, appropriate to the karmic theme, fellow expat Ian from Letters Home posted a bit of Buddhism for bloggers.

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The Beastie Boys’ “The Sounds of Science” is available from .

Image credits:

Up is down

The Whore of Babylon

 

 The Beastie Boys - "Skills To Pay The Bills" [3:14m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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Hi y’all,

I’ve been throwing a few bombs your way lately, haven’t I? I got an e-mail from one you last night expressing disappointment with a throw-away line that I left in my “This I Believe” list. It was a joke, albeit a not very good one. One of the limitations with the written word is that it’s hard for the reader to see my wink, my tongue in my cheek. Short of using emoticons, something that I absolutely refuse to do, it’s pretty hard to get tone of voice accross. My initial reaction was to write back saying, “C’mon, it was a joke!”, but then, I realized that my tone has been pretty anti-religious of late. I’ve been gunning for you guys lately, pretty much since my Sarah Palin post (which wasn’t a Sarah Palin post). I’ve always said that I don’t have a problem with anyone’s religion as long as they keep it to themselves. Since the Palin appointment I’ve begun to realize that statement isn’t entirely true.

I’ve got a problem with the Catholic Church. This stems from their refusal to change their stance on birth control, the cover-up and protection of priests that abuse children and their sexist structure. This problem is so big that Z remains unchristened. Dr. O’C comes from an Irish Catholic family with all the baggage that goes along with that and even though she hasn’t set foot in mass in decades, refuses to let Z be christened in a Protestant church. I, because of my social-political problems with Rome refuse to let the boy be christened in a Catholic Church. We’re currently sitting at an impasse.

Most of all, I have a problem with Fundamentalist churches. I blame George Bush and the last 8 years of clusterfuck on the Fundamentalists. The Religious Right undeniably put Bush over the top in 2000 (well, actually it was the Supreme Court, but let’s leave that aside) and 2004. The G.O.P and its fundamentalist Christian allies made the political agenda about social issues in the last two presidential election and it worked to their benefit. The “Culture War” is a creation of some clever marketers and all that it’s doing is distracting from real problems - like an American economy that’s falling to bits and the two wars that people are dying in on a daily basis and the fact that Americans are spending far too much of their dwindling savings on health care. And they’re doing it again with this damned Palin thing. Sarah Palin is a creation of the Religious Right and it’s designed to get those “values voters” involved again and while the Left is fixated on her tanning bed, the banking system is collapsing. When I said that your God is a bit of a dick, I was talking to these marketing people, these leaders who are willing to watch the country fall apart if they can just keep gay people from getting married. Phew.

BUT, and this is the critical bit, I do not have a problem with individual people of faith. I have the great respect for people of faith. I am a person of faith, that was the whole point of the “This I Believe” exercise. One of the things that is great about blogging and one of the reasons that I’m slightly addicted to it is that you get to “meet” people that you wouldn’t under normal circumstances. Most of you are now not people that I know in real life and I doubt that I would have met most of you even disregarding the geographical challenges. We wouldn’t run in the same circles our paths wouldn’t cross. But having “met” and “talked to” a number of you over the past year or soI’ve come to realize that one’s religious affiliations don’t necessarily make them who they are. Just because you are a Catholic, or an Evangelical, or a Fundamentalist doesn’t make you the enemy. Just because we have massively different political agendas doesn’t make you wrong. Just because we disagree about evolution or vaccines or Barack Obama. In fact one of the things I find most gratifying about this blog is when there is an active, yet civilized, debate in the comment stream. At the bottom of everything we’ve got the same goals - a good life for ourselves and those we love - and the differences in the paths we choose are what make life interesting.

I’m going to scale back the religious rhetoric here on A Free Man. I respect you guys too much to keep breathing vitriol, in jest or not. Here’s a gratuitous baby photo as a peace offering.

Your friend,

Chris

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* The offending remark is gone because I didn’t like it that much to begin with. The e-mailer will remain anonymous. It’s not who you think. You won’t guess and I wouldn’t tell you if you did. Move on, nothing to see here.

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The seminal Arrested Development album “3 Years, 5 Months and 2 Days In The Life Of…” is available from .

 

 Arrested Development - "Fishin' 4 Religion" [4:11m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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Annie Savoy: What do you believe in, then?
Crash Davis: Well, I believe in the soul, the cock, the pussy, the small of a woman’s back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days. Goodnight.

I had intended to start yesterday’s post with a  kind of statement of things I believe strongly in, the point being that I did not want to argue about the merits of evolution again. A sort of personal manifesto. The post was getting fairly unwieldy, though, so I killed it.

But I’ve been coming back to the list since then and I actually like it a lot. NPR listeners may be familiar with one of my favorite of their programs, “This I Believe”, on which average people read an essay about their core beliefs. One of these days I’m going to write a proper “This I Believe” essay. But until then and with apologies to Edward R Murrow, Michael Stipe and Crash Davis, here is what I believe.

1. I believe in Karma, The Golden Rule, reaping what you sow, however you label it. You get back what you give out.
2. I believe that a civilized society has an obligation to look after its poor, its weak, its sick. I believe that, unfortunately, government is the only entity that is imparial enough to be capable of doing so.
3. I believe that through some bizarre twist of fate I’ve ended up with the most wonderful woman on the planet as a life partner and the mother of my child.
4. I believe that we can explain the incredible diversity of life on this planet without invoking the supernatural. I believe in Muller’s Ratchet, Mendel’s Laws, Occam’s Razor and Darwinian Evolution.
5. I believe that I am as happy as I make up my mind to be.
6. I believe that my son is as close to a perfect expression of humanity as you’re likely to find.
7. I believe that a world without music would be a world in which I would rather not live.
8. I believe in a personal god of my own understanding.
9. I believe that every person has a fundamental right to choose their own path in life. To make their own choices about their bodies, about where, how and if they worship, about what they read and say, about what they do behind the four walls of their home. I believe that their right to choose their own destiny stops when their fist hits my face.
10. I believe that it’s getting better all the time. A little better all the time.

And…

I believe in coyotes and time as an abstract
Explain the change, the difference between
What you want and what you need, there’s the key…

I believe my humor’s wearing thin
And change is what I believe in
I believe my shirt is wearing thin
And change is what I believe in…

I believe in example
I believe my throat hurts…

What do you believe?

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R.E.M.’s “Life’s Rich Pageant” is available from .

 

 R.E.M. - "I Believe" [3:50m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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If this image triggers a sense of forboding in you, then you are more perceptive than me.

A number of you predicted that The Battle of Fountain Valley Pond wasn’t going to be the end of my goose troubles - lack of faith that I dismissed with, in hindsight, hubris. I mean, I know that birds are smarter and more organized than we give them credit. But I really thought our glorious rout of the geese of Happy Valley would put an end to it - what kind of response would a flock of geese bullies really be able to put together.

Well, I know that animal behaviorists (and presumably birds) bristle at the term “bird brain”. I know that these animal behaviorists have been looking at the “social intelligence” of groups of birds. But I had no idea of their capacity to organize and communicate. It seems that the birds of South Australia have declared a fatwa on A Free Man and his family.

And they’ve gotten nasty. As you’ll no doubt recall, Baby Z was left as a reserve force in our glorious victory last week. He was a virtual innocent, merely observing from a distance. Apparently these  avianofascists have no chance in a pitched battle, so they’ve opted for back biting and cowardly terrorist attacks.

We spent Saturday at the Adelaide Zoo, our first visit to Australia’s Second Oldest Zoo (This is really one of their selling points. Maybe time for a marketing shake up.) Z had mixed feelings about the animals. Most of them he found pretty dull, particularly the ones that just laid about. But he was enchanted by some - the gibbons, the yellow footed rock wallabies, the goats and the bird that you see at the top of this post.

I should have seen it coming. This bird clearly has the crazed glint of an extremist in his eye. I keep playing it all back in my head, in slow motion - Z’s fingers reaching through the mesh, the muscles in that bastard bird’s neck tensing for the strike, the horrible sound of beak on flesh followed by Dr. O’C’s screams. It will haunt me for the rest of my days.

The battle is well and truly joined now, you feathered fiends. No more Mr. Nice Guy, no more casualty free confrontations. You have uncorked the wrath of A Free Man. If I can borrow the words of another great American warrior - “Bring it on.”

And I’ve got to give Z credit. He’s battle tested now  and rather than retreating meekly to the rear as some babies might, Z was back on the front lines the very next day. Here is is staring down some of the enemy on Henley Beach.

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Terror Bird is a Vancouver, BC trio that I’m sure is going to be thrilled to be tangentially associated with the quixotic ravings of a man embroiled in his own personal war with birds. But I couldn’t resist posting their Siouxsie-esque track along with this post. Their debut 7″ is out on Summer Lovers.

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* A bush thick-knee apparently. Endangered my butt. I’m fixin’ to show it endangered.

 

 Terror Bird - "Shame Is On Your Side" [2:42m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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After the third attack by terrorist water fowl in a week, I decided to do something about these Anatid insurgents. I made the decision to retaliate. On Friday evening I sat down with my eager forces and designed a strategy. As Saturday morning dawned cool and cloudy and I prepared my forces for a counter attack.

Now before you call out the animal protection thugs on me, I made a decision before this post-dawn raid that no geese would be physically hurt. I was after nothing more than a proportional response. I said to myself, “Self, these bastard geese have been terrorizing me, I’ll return the favor.”

So, my hearty forces - myself, Timmins, Z and a reluctant and bemused Dr. O’C -  headed toward the very nexus of geese-dom, deep into enemy territory - the drainage repository known as Fountain Valley Pond. We marched through the streets of Happy Valley banners flying proudly, heads held high in defiance we crested a small hill giving us a view of the pond below.

It quickly became apparent that the enemy had anticipated our action. Our resolve nearly wavered when we realized that the geese that had been harassing your underwhelming narrator were merely an advance force. Because before us lay a veritable geese army. Dozens of geese, scores even, standing defiantly on the muddy pond bank. A few of them even brazenly gave us the avian version of the single fingered salute as our underwhelming force paused.

But we were not cowed by their numbers for we had “Justice” and “Freedom” on our side. Regrettably, Justice and Freedom weren’t with us in a physical form and we felt it best to leave Dr. O’C and Z as a reserve force in case we needed an ambulance or emergency veterenarian. Thus it was just Timmins and I that stood ready to take on the goose hoardes. As we prepared for the greatest direct charge into an overwhelming force since Pickett at Gettysburg or Cardigan at Balaklava.

I’ll let the video tell the bulk of the story, but just to clarify one point: Timmins may have not fully understood the brief or in the heat of the battle may have gotten a bit overzealous, but there’s a point in our charge in which he nearly grabs an enemy combatant who got bogge down in a trench while fleeing under our withering charge. In my role as supreme generallissimo of free forces, I felt it better for all concerned to rein him in a bit, resulting in the canine acrobatics that you see in the video.

It was a quick strike and successful in that no one - goose, dog or human - was injured. But more importantly, I think that the geese bastards now clearly undertsand who runs Happy Valley. We’ve made the streets safe again. This is borne out by two days of harassment free commuting. The geese terrorists, clearly cowed, float sullenly on the far side of the pond as I walk proudly past. Mission accomplished.

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Joanna Smith’s sublime version of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”** was featured on a compilation called “Song of America” available from eMusic. Check out more of Smith’s music at her MySpace page.

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* I had to memorize the Tennyson poem in 6th grade and I could still do the first three stanzas from memory.

** I know that I’m mixing historical and musical metaphors here with The Crimean War and U.S. Civil War, but try and find an appropriate song about the Crimean War.

 

 Podcast Video: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Joanna Smith - "Battle Hymn of the Republic" [5:15m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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There is a gang of thugs that are wreaking havoc on the streets of my quiet South Australian suburb. For the third time this week, I’ve been accosted on my way to the bus stop by these hooligans for doing nothing more than walking down the sidewalk with a spring in my step. They’ve come charging across the street, hissing verbal threats, limbs raised aggressively with a glint of madness in their eyes. A couple of times I’ve had to sprint away lest I come to some physical harm by these ruffians.

Well, this morning was the last straw. Next time I’m going bring the boy’s baseball bat and batter those f*cking birds. We’ll have roast goose for dinner in the Free Man household.

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What? Sorry, did I not mention we were talking about geese? Geese can be very dangerous, you know. A goose can break a man’s arm with his beak. Or is that a swan?

The thing is, I’m a bird lover. Within the first month of living in Oz, before I even had a job, I bought a bird feeder to feed all the beautiful avian wildlife we’ve got around these parts. I love the bird songs in the morning, I even walk to the bus stop without my iPod plugged in to my ears so I can hear the birds. But these geese! It must look ridiculous to see a grown man running away from water chickens, but when they’re coming at you… You’d run too.   

The ironic thing is that these bastard geese were in the middle of the road a couple of weeks ago as I was driving home. I did the ‘humane’ thing and stopped and waited for the to waddle insolently across the street. They even stopped in front of the car and gave me a brazen look. I should have mowed the damn birds down.

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I read a blog post this week about researchers who had claimed that some birds can recognize human faces. I believe this to be true. I’ll go further and say that I believe birds can warn each other about the humans that they recognize. I believe that these avian thugs are retaliating for crimes visited on them by a member of my family - Timmins. The dog has kind of a history with local fauna, but he’s always left birds alone. This is primarily because they’re difficult to catch - the whole flying thing. However, in our temporary Happy Valley home, we have a back patio which is currently partially closed off for the winter with rolls of plastic sheeting. The dog spends more time outdoors in Oz because we finally have a yard that he can’t escape from and so his food and water bowls are kept outside. Birds are stupid, but not that stupid and have discovered that Timmins’ food bowl is a good source for a snack when the dog’s otherwise occupied. And even if the dog notices they can always fly away.

Except when they can’t. Except when they fail to notice the difference between transparent plastic and the lack therof and get stuck in what is essentially an elaborate, and unintended, bird trap. The carcasses are starting to add up, but to date have only been pigeons - the modern dodo. Don’t get me wrong, I do feel bad, but they are only pigeons.

Problem is, the birds don’t seem to see it this way and through the grapevine the word has spread about me and my homicidal dog. I’m pretty sure that the geese are the hit men of the bird world. And they recognize me. And they’re angry.

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Jethro Tull’s “Aqualung” is available from .

 

 Jethro Tull - "Mother Goose": Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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Father’s little helper and I are grateful that the weekend’s upon us. It means a brief reprieve from ten plus hour days. Here’s hoping that this weekend’s also free from flat pack furniture. Damn Swedes.

Wanted to take the chance to point you all at a band that’s been burning up my iPod this week. The Mates of State (MySpace) are a husband and wife team that came out of Kansas in the late 1990’s. They got my attention a year or so ago as the traveling band for the This American Life live show and, separately, as a contributor  to a great kids music compilation called “For The Kids Three” . They cover James Taylor on that comp and their song is one of the most earwormy you’ll ever hear.

The Mates of State have a new album out and I’ve been listening to it non-stop since it came my way. It’s the best that I’ve heard so far this year. “Re-arrange Us” is effervescent, piano laden pop that just forces a smile out of you. A must. It’s my soundtrack for the weekend.

The Mates of State’s “Re-arrange Us” is available from .

MP3: The Mates of State - “Help, Help” (from “Re-arrange Us”)
MP3: The Mates of State - “Jellyman Kelly”

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You know how sometimes you can get a completely inappropriate song stuck in your head? Well, I keep humming Devendra Banhart’s “Chinese Children as we watch the opening ceremonies in Beijing and there’s probably something vaguely racist about that song in this particular context.

Oh, good some Chinese opera, that’ll get rid of Devendra.

My impression of the opening ceremonies so far - very red, far too much singing but technologically fantastic.

One other tip for the Chinese Olympic Committee, if you want don’t want to be thought of as authoritarian, probably best to keep the goose stepping soldiers to a minimum. Dr. O’C and I are having an argument as to whether or not China’s government is Communist, Fascist, or something else entirely. She argues for fascism, but I stand by the assertion that fascism died with World War II and thus at most, China would be neo-fascist. Which they aren’t.

Don’t you wish you could hang out with us?

“Now if I lived in Russia, I’d have some Chinese children
If I lived in Prussia, I’d have some Chinese children
Well if I lived in India, they’d still be Chinese children uh huh
And out my toes my little blue baby grows
And that’s another fact…”

I’m warning you, don’t push play…

 

 Devendra Banhart - "Chinese Children": Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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