Now's As Good A Time As Any

Warning: lo-fi and lo-talent.

I thought James Brown would live forever. And why the $%# didn’t I go see him in Chicago when I had the chance???

I was in a hurry to get to class today, so I ate my Sonic Burgers in the car. (If you’re passing through Nelsonville, and it’s Wednesday night, you gotta get some Sonic Burgers. On Wednesday they’re only a dollar!!!) And I was pretty careful with them…I wanted to look professional, or at least passingly so. But I got one stray mustardy onion on my shirt, and there it was…a small, but very bright, yellow spot. I’m not going to turn down free clothing from my mama, but this is why I don’t care for white clothing. The students and I had a good larf, I think, I hope, but maybe they think I’m ridiculous. As if they didn’t already.

All-Music Guide says the Paris Hilton CD is very good! I’m willing to give it a chance. I would be pleased to upgrade my evaluation of Paris Hilton above the level of “worthless human being”^* if such a move is warranted.

^* Not that she’s necessarily at that level now…she just stands the chance to go so much higher than that level that she’s not at: the status or level of worth that I like to call “worthless human being”. As I’ve said before, anyone who claims based on my statements that “Mike Shecket thinks Paris Hilton is a worthless human being” is obviously completely misinformed. I would scarely even think to write the phrase “worthless human being” and the name “Paris Hilton” in the same sentence.

When will we reach the point where there has been so much music recorded in the history of the world that there too much for a person to listen to in an entire lifetime? Or, let’s say, more popular music than can ever be heard? Or could it be that we’ve already reached that point?

85 years is about 45 million minutes. Enough time for 15 million three-minute songs. iTunes has over 3 million songs, but that includes audiobooks.

I don’t think I’ve heard anywhere close to a million songs in my lifetime. Certainly very easily more than a thousand. Probably more than ten thousand. Maybe somewhere in five figures, maybe even pushing 100K.

I totally met that dude from OK Go, and now, he’s on Colbert! Awesome!

I realized the other day that sometimes I get mad at contemporary songs just for trying to have a hook. I’m all like, “Oh, so you’re trying to write a good song, huh? Your song sucks!” I should really give them a break. Hooks are good. Hooks make people happy. If you’re going to write a bad song, at least make it hooky.

P.S. Oh! I’m ready for it! C’mon bring it!

They showed him on this special about the Love show in Las Vegas, and I realized that he’s now older than his father ever was. It’s kind of creepy to look at him and wonder if that’s what his dad would have looked like in the 1980s.

I think I had a dream that I wrote to Madonna and she wrote me back. I think my e-mail said that some of the singles on her last few albums have been really good, and I’m impressed with the way she’s managed her career. I think in the dream I forgot about all the Kaballah crap and cultivating a British accent.

In the dream, I figured she must spend as much time each day replying to e-mails as she does working out.

It must have stemmed from what I was thinking the other day: that there are probably some people who are famous to me who aren’t actually famous enough that they get as many nice e-mails as they’d like. For example: the Dispatch film critic, Frank Gabrenya. He’s been doing solid work as long as I’ve lived in this town. I can’t say whether he’s one of the top critics in the country or anything, but I highly value his opinion because I have a comfort level with him that comes from familiarity. He might be the sort of guy who would appreciate a nice e-mail from a reader. Maybe he’s not too swamped already.

Some kind of documentary showing Prince in the studio. He made those records where he played all the instruments…I wanna see how he did that! Same with Todd Rundgren, although I suspect there’s some footage somewhere.

I got the last bits out of the old apartment about an hour ago, and I sang to myself, “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, where the dogs of society howl; you can’t plant me in your penthouse, I’m going back to my plough.” Whatever that means. Seemed appropriate.

Good:

1. Got three checks in the mail, two of at least $100. Payday’s tomorrow, too.
2. Got tacos at Taco Ninja!
3. Got free food at work.
4. The Country Teasers played at Cafe Bourbon St. Even though I didn’t go, somehow this makes me happy. I, like, know those guys!

Bad:

1. The death of American soccer. Maybe. Real bad.
2. Got free food after I already paid for food. But it was from Taco Ninja, darn it!

Why do the Brits like Oasis and the Stone Roses so much? Maybe I’ll figure it out by the end of this album, but probably not…ugh…BOOOOORING.

This is the third time I’ve listened to this R. Stevie Moore album, and each other time someone called me in the middle of it. Don’t call me! Let me listen to this album! Thanks.

WHAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY? CAN’T HEAR YOU! LISTENING TO “METAL MACHINE MUSIC“!

P.S. I think “Loud Reed” would be a good band name.

I LOVE this song!!!