ND vs. PU

ND 38
PU 21

It was nice to see the Irish score in the 30's. The first half was a score for score kind of thing, but then ND came back in the second half and Purdue let the game get away from them. ND did have a balanced game, about as much running as passing, more running than last week, that's for sure. I wish I could recap more, but I was busy half the game detonating Irish Car Bombs and stuffing my face. We had some great company over, and I got to laugh at cousin Dave (Purdue Alumni and Staff) for doing the one man wave. Next week, Stanford.

Hey Baby, que paso?

One of the German bands played this one at Oktoberfest, and they rocked out! Enjoy.

ND vs. Michigan St.

ND 7
Mich. St. 23

Ouch! I had them losing this game, but still, I wanted them to put up more of a fight. I got warm fuzzies hearing Floyd's name called out so much. I'm telling you, National Champs in two years. They're young and talented and just need time to gel. You'll see. I listened to this game on AM on the way down to Cinci and it was cool that everytime the station I was listening too would fade out, another AM station had the game on crystal clear. Oh, and word about the Irish Nation. I wore my "Shirt" from last year, I don' have the new one yet, and people, other fans, would respond with a "Go, Irish!" and give me a high five or clink my beer mug at Oktoberfest. There were many Irish fans there and it was consoling that they reached to acknowledge another fan. Go Irish indeed.

Oktoberfest

I may have blogged about this before, but I don't 'member. Glomo and I are heading down to Cincinnati later this afternoon to hang out with my cousin Marcy at Oktoberfest. Unbeknownst to me, Cincinnati hosts the largest Oktoberfest outside of Munich. I'll miss the ND vs Mich. St. game, but I'm hoping I'll be able to get someone to text me the score at the end of every quarter. Go Irish! Go Beer!

ND vs Michigan

ND 35
Michigan 17

Ok, I wanted the Irish to win this one, but I had them losing this game on my schedule. Surprise! Anyway, the quick scores in the first 3 minutes of the game gave them all of the momentum necessary to run over the hapless Wolverines. If it hadn't of been for those quick scores, hmm, a toss up. A win is a win and ND did look better than last week. The Weis replay, on HD, ugly. Michigan St. is up next and that is normally a tricky game regardless of rankings, talent, el Nino, etc. Unfortunately, we'll be on our way to Cincinnati for Oktoberfest so we won't be watching the game. Wait, did I say "unfortunately" and "Oktoberfest" in the same sentence? Quick, someone beer me!

ND vs San Diego St.

ND 21
San Diego St. 13



It was an ugly, worrisome win. ND struggled big time in the first half. Sure, some bright spots, Golden Tate and Armando Allen, and I have hope they'll improve. I'm sticking to my 7-5 prediction for the season.

He Ain't Nuthing But A Hound Dog!

"When I die, they'll say 'he couldn't play shit, but he sure made it sound good!' " -Hound Dog Taylor

I don't know what got me into a Hound Dog mood, so, well, here I am. Hound Dog didn't get as big as the other Chicago Bluesmen, as far as I can tell , he preferred rocking house parties and playing in the nastiest, dirtiest, realist, blues clubs in Chicago. He was accompanied by a drummer- Ted Harvey and a guitarist- Brewer Phillips. HD and Phillips traded the rhythm and bass line so that the other could play lead. They were a throwback band so to speak, back in the day, before the electric bass, folks played the bass/rhythm lines on a second guitar. I had the opportunity to listen first hand, from David Myers (of Little Walter fame), about how this was accomplished. But that's a story for another time.

There was nothing beautiful about Hound Dog, he played on cheap equipment, had an unpolished voice, and lived a hard life. He was tall, slim, and had a big goofy smile. He also told nearly incomprehensible jokes that only he found funny and didn't mind laughing hysterically and putting his hands up to cover his face. His music was so raw and unpretentious. This wasn't music to be dissected and studied, it was to be enjoyed. It was fun, he was having fun, the people were having fun. And that's what makes him most beautiful to me, what you see, what you hear, it's honest. There's nothing more beautiful than the truth.

I guess what I'm getting at is that the blues is about doing. You do sex, you don't perform it. You do love, you don't perform it. You do life, you don't perform it. Hound Dog did the blues and it was genuine.

HD cut about 4 records before he died, towards the end he and his band started to pick up a following. His was the first album released on Alligator records because other labels didn't want to record him, so his manager started up a label just for him. Alligator is still around by the way.
oh yeah, Hound Dog didn't just cut records, he also cut an extra digit off of one of his hands. You see, Hound Dog had six digits on each hand, and as the story goes, he got drunk one night and amputated one of them himself with a broken bottle.

This is a guy I really would have liked to see play, he died in the 70's though, but not before he was recorded on film or tape. Thanks to Youtube, some of his live performances live on.

So I've got some Dog for you, sit back, turn it way up, and let those PC speakers distort and if you feel it, yell out "Sho nuff" one time loud enough for the Dog to hear you.

I loves/hates my internets!

What I both love and hate about the internet. Somehow, exactly how I don’t know, these phenomena have made the internet a better but shittier place.

**not quite finished- too bad soo sad!

1. elitterit kats
2. MyFaceNing
3. blogs, vlogs, wiki’s
4. OMG! TMZ WTF
5. del.icio.us, rss, digg
6. Nigerian Scams
7. Memes and Swedes
8. Craig’s Ebay list
9. Flikr, Resizr, Stupidr
10. Google it!

Guess What?

Los Lobos have just been announced as the secret guest band that will close out the festival on Sunday night, Aug. 24. Sure it's a Sunday night and we have to work the next day, and yes, it's a free festival so there will be a ton of people, but what the hell...WE ARE THERE!

oh yeah!

Cesar and Conrad playing in the background.

First Take

I started the garden late this year, but here are the first fruits of my labor!

La Pistola y el Corazon

Good Morning Aztlan

In Two Days...

The Gloworm and yours truly will be in Indy jamming out to two great bands. Of course, I'm mostly going for the Lobos, but I've read some concert reviews and I'm excited to see the two bands interact and perform on each other's songs. Rock On!

Random thoughts at 8:20 pm on a Wednesday

-I think that, after some discussion with a coworker we'll refer to as "Naire", I'll begin writing urban vampire romance novels under the pen name January August.

-When parents are hotter than their kids, do the kids grow up with more self esteem issues or less?

-Babies are way funny when they're just learning to walk and they wave their little arms over their gigantic heads trying not to fall down and then they fall anyway.

-In Spanish, handcuffs are "esposas" which can also mean wives. And hunt is "cazar" which if just said and not read means to wed.

-Sometimes, during a storm, I think it'd be great to be hit by lighting and become a superhero.

-A couple in a parking lot the other day were discussing this and suddenly Jerry Springer made sense : "you've hit me in the face before, yes you have, yes you have, you've hit me in the face before, don't lie, yes you have, yes you have" she said with a smile on her face as she gets in the truck with her man.

-I'd like to "appear" on NPRs this I believe and say "This I believe" and just sit there in silence, my breathing being the only audible sound

-And Twins!!!

Check out this site

So little brother decided to join the online world, check out his site here. What you'll see here is his exploration of digital art. Some of you who were at my Dia de los Muertos party last year saw some of is traditional work on my walls, work that I'm "storing" for him (I hope he forgets it's here!). If he's smart, he'll have his slides tranferred and post those images on his site also. Also, if you've ever driven past Alonzo Watson park on Western Ave and Chapin, that colorful shelter is his doing. Enjoy!

9 Years!!

Gloria and I have been married 9 years as of today, it's gone by faster than I thought it would. Time flies and all that...

Bad Google, Bad Google, go to your crate!

That damned Google, it has become an enemy of intellect! We must combat this evil, fellow readers arm yourselves.

Too big baby jesus?

Walking around Farmer's Market this morning, I noticed I was bumping into more people than normal. Sure, the place was packed, but I'm usually aware of my "space" and I'm pretty good at navigating my way through a crowd without so much as bumping elbows or stepping on feet. But today, every move I made seemed to be the wrong move. After a while, I got so frustrated that I purposely avoided all collisions- I felt like a bumper in a pinball machine. It's funny though, I started wondering why it was that everyone else I bumped into wasn't making an effort to avoid me. I wonder if our increasing social isolation is having an effect on our subconscious- remember Crash?

The events of this morning got me thinking about a goal I wanted to accomplish this summer: to lose some weight, about 20lbs to get me started, and take some pressure of my bad back, bad knees, bad knees, balding head- wait! I've lost large amounts of weight before and my body responds extremely well to exercise, however, this time around, it's really really hard. I've been walking my dogs on a daily basis for 20-30 minutes a day and it's painful!! I feel like an ass for having let myself go like this. Not that I was ever "in shape", but looking at that senior picture (posted a few posts back) reminded me of how active I was back then.

Recently, I've even had to stop walking my dogs with the same frequency, because I hurt myself. Walking. How pathetic. But, it's not that I have unhealthy diet habits- beer and bbq aside, I eat plenty of whole grains, veggies, lean meats. I think though, my problem is the "plenty" part. I eat too much of the good stuff. Too much. I recently read an article naming the "best food for men" and I eat most of it.

I just need to get moving- no excuse. Time to fix the bike or go for a swim if the joints hurt, also that's what Aleve is for anyway right?

All Golden

But they didn’t stand a chance and somehow it didn’t matter. To her or to him, nobody. They drove through the early morning dawn, that dirty green pick-up bounced along the dirt road in a never ending death rattle. Yeah, somehow it didn’t matter, but that couldn’t be right could it, she wondered?
I know, I know. I’m sorry, he said. I’ll try harder next time.
She didn’t need to look at him as he spoke to know that he had a sad puppy dog look on his face, she knew, she knew. She looked out into fields, she wanted to be a corn stalk, lost among the others, all golden inside.
He reached across the seat and made for his spit cup. That Big Gulp had paid itself off a hundred times over, this was the best spitter he’d ever had.
Look at this thing wouldja, it’s unbeatable, I’ve had it for like a month now. Damn! Christ, don’t look so sad he said.
I aint sad, just tired, she said.
Aww, c’mon, it’ll be good again, you’ll see. We’ll get home and we’ll turn on the tube and some animal show’ll be on and I’ll say damn, what do you think that platypus taste like and you’ll be all...
She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She could taste the beer coming up. This part made her sick. This is the part that she knew better, she knew better, but did nothing about. That tone of voice, those words, like so much hot mud being poured all in her. She’d let his stupid reasons numb her good until next time he betrayed her.
I can’t never do no good by you, you know that he said. I always seem to get things wrong, I can’t never do no right, he said.
She sure looked happy, you musta been doin something right. You had a big grin on that big fat farmer face of yours too. You made a fool of us. I hate you, asshole. I’m glad I lost that baby, he would be been just as dumb as me and an asshole like you. I lost him cuz a you, you know.
Damn, we both know that! What was I supposed to do. You know I can’t help myself,you know that doctor at the prison said I was compulsive or impulsive, some kind of sive.
Sieve is right!
Jasmine was just there, looking real good, and I just couldn’t help it, you know, I just had to reach up under that little dress she had on and she let me do it too. She didn’t get mad or nothin, she just started grindin on my hand, gettin all wet, it ain’t my fault she did it...
She puked all over the inside of the truck, the windshield coated in a dark muck. The smell of all that throw up made her throw up more. It happened faster than she knew what was happening. For a moment she wasn’t there.
Aw shit, goddamn it, what the fuck! He threw his spit cup at her, coating her face in a juicy, brown film.
She didn’t have time to react, the truck, the road, the pole all reacted for her. The crash was instant and loud. She flew, no sailed, no floated through the windshield, and again, for a moment, she wasn’t there. Somehow, she had a mouth full of gravel, and her hands were full of corn stalk. From somewhere far away, a child was moaning, it made her feel so sad.
Hey! Hey! You alright? What’d you do that for, why didn’t you have on your seat belt. Aw, what the hell. Your face is all tore up. Why’d you do that, why’d you puke like that. You’re a god damned drunk, just like your pa and your brothers. God damned woman, what is your problem. Hey! Hey! Can you hear me? Wake up. You need help? Get up. Shit, I’m gonna go to the hospital and get the ambulance.
She heard his boots crunch in the gravel as he made his way toward the running motor she assumed belonged to the truck. She managed to turn her self belly up. Through the corn, the sky was pink and blue and the clouds wispy. She wiped her face as best she could and started laughing. It wasn’t really laughing though, more like grunting. She imagined that’s what early people must of sounded like before they could talk. She grunted more at that thought and wished she could be back there, way back there when the world was young.
The corn began leaning in, taking turns, rustling, speaking. Laughing, too. Were they laughing because they’d notice that he had puke on his favorite shirt, or because, like her, they’d notice that when he drove away, he wasn’t driving toward the hospital. They leaned in even more, covering her in sharp green leaves.