A monkey can successfully be taught how to ride a Segway in Japan, yet in wonderful America one out of five licensed drivers would not get a passing score if retested today, sixty percent change lanes on highways without using turn signals and, get this: one out of five did notknow that highways become slippery after it begins to rain. All this according a 2008 GMAC study.
It is worth it, I guess, when this is the result. And it’s one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.
So Mooo has supposed to get his balls removed last month. But the day of his surgery one of his eyes looked funky. The surgeon didn’t want to risk it with his prediognosed condition (he’s a sick kitten). So we got an ointment. Then we got another when the first and it’s evil steroid didn’t work. The next ointment didn’t work and now both eyes are gross, purple and one seems to be secreting some dark red fluid. He’s going back in again but geez, man. GROSS.
Ryan Plattsmeir, aka Ground Round, was a friend and a bandmate and someone you could always rely on. He and Lou were inseparable and if one was invited the other usually came. It’s hard to only invite a dog to an event, but we tried and Ryan would be in tow. Unfortunately Ryan left this world just a few days before Halloween.
Once, after returning from gigs in Texas, I found Ryan on the balcony of my French Quarter apartment repairing our Central AC. He looked up smiling, waved and stated to me that, “Your house is fucking HOT,” as if my wife hadn’t made that perfectly clear at midnight the night before when it broke.
Another time we spent the afternoon each with a 64oz frozen Daiquiris (each with the obligitory two extra shots of 151) and made Jambalya. After the all-you-can-eat sausage and rice fest we picked up two more Daiquiris and proceded to attempt a rehearsal with drummer Bryan Besse. Bryan had a lot of patience with us that night. And I think that that night brought a friend to actually hear us rehearse. He bought fresh Wisconsin cheese curd and is now a district attorney for a major southern city.
I remember us driving around playing music for each other. Just before Katrina he had started getting into the bass playing of Graham Moby (who had a pretty cool trio with piano/pop hero Joe Jackson) and thought the song Airships by VNV Nation was cool enough to purchase the entire album. The best thing about listening to music in Ryan’s car was that when his cell phone rang his car stereo would squelch our this horrid loud Satanic-like Static Yelp.
Kristen and I have always had plans to return to NOLA and Ryan was always involved in my musical future. Ryan, along with Bryan Besse (Bryan/Ryan is were the Ground/Round thing came about) and I had this rock power-trio called REEBATIBA that recorded a lot, but only played a few times live. All three of us were busy with so many other bands that it just never hooked up right. But I always wanted to return to that group. Ryan and I co-wrote most of the music and I still have alot of it. Kristen asked that we listen to it a few days after getting the news about Ryan.
It’s good. Then again, most things about Ryan were.
My first experience with Ed Feldman was seeing him on TV during my impressionable youth.I had stumbled upon “The Furniture Guys” on PBS and was enamored with the use of Dick Van Dyke Brown.That coupled with my recent discovery of Groucho Marx, his transition from local public television to the epitome of a cult icon went unnoticed. His intelligent, however wild, antics should not be overlooked or down-played, but acknowledged for what he stood for and accomplished.
Ed was a man who was easily loved and hated, as stated in the article in the Inquirer, and he joins the ranks of most people I’ve known in my life.What makes him someone to hate?He voices a view differently?
“I don’t know what they have to say,It makes no difference anyway,Whatever it is, I’m against it!,No matter what it is or who commenced it,
I’m against it.I’m opposed to it, by general principal I’m opposed to it.Your proposition may be good,But let’s have one thing understood,Whatever it is, I’m against it!,And even when you’ve changed it or condensed it,I’m against it.,” as Groucho stated in “Horse Feathers,”
Groucho, having been declared Dean of a major University aptly states my interpretation of the mantra of Ed Feldman.Having a title does not entitle one to be trusted.
Like Groucho, Ed is a performer whose true passion is an erotic obsession with the English word.George Carlin pointed out peoples’ common misuses of basic English language, while the Marx/Feldman camp abused it purposefully as if everyone were in on the joke with them and enjoyed their misuse.We were in on the joke because we had the ability to appreciate the joke.
Ed is what Ed is.It could be turning left on Monday, then by Friday vocally proclaiming that turning right brings one less asshole, the currently suitable path to take.At least he always knows where he’s going.I can only hope that it is somewhere close to where I end up.Ed is at his best when you choose to disagree, which, for me, is rare.
We began looking for a new apartment a month or so ago. Unfortunately, I had two pretty crazy weeks. One with Drake’s and the other with gigs. After clocking in over 122 hours between the two over 10 days Kris and I sat down to actually look at places.
Today we finally found a place worth seeing. Two, actually. I had an abortion of an appointment yesterday. Replace carpets, people. The afterbirth of New Years Eve 1998 is not something I want to see when I wake up on my living room floor after barely making it home when Mike Dulle comes to town.
The first place was cute, but we were stood up. The drive thru the neighborhood of the second place was so wonderful we turned around and stood them up.
The evening unfolded with Kristen and I discussing money issues. We were going to try and go out and meet up with my boss, and friend, Carl and his wife after they went out to dinner. After we realized we were broke it was decided that going out was not in the near future. Then Pres. Bush came on every channel we have (we are on one of those fancy antennas) to discuss the economic crisis. (This post is not anti-Bush or anything political so let’s not make it that.) After the speech sends us on a deep depression Kristen takes the ball and decides it’s time to leave.
A block from our apartment we see Carl on the street, waiting for Claire to join him outside. We move on to the Tavern on the Hill for a cocktail. Once there we are greeted with a half-full bar, most people we know. The patrons trickle out over the next half hour and we are left, almost alone, with a strange man. Kristen went outside and came back disturbed that this strange man came up to her and rubbed her shoulder and arm in a way that is somewhat inappropriate. Ten minutes later, while Carl is outside on the phone, Claire scoots a stool closer to me (taking Carl’s seat) pretending to read a sign and whispers that the strange man came up and rubbed her back in a way that wasn’t kosher.
I speak to the owner who informs me that this character (lets refer to him as A-hole from now on) has been in there all evening buying drinks for females that don’t know him. The group makes the decision that A-hole is ruining the evening and it’s time to move on. We pay our tab, at which point I notice that A-hole is getting his tab as well.
Half a block away from the bar it is realized that Carl and Claire’s car should be moved. Claire volenteers to do it alone. She crosses the street and I see A-hole exit the bar. Carl, Kristen and myself stop walking to watch and A-hole looks at us and looks at Claire (across the street from him at this point) and he goes to follow her. We promptly cross the street where we are to keep an eye. Kristen then runs towards Claire (now a block away) and yells for that she wants to ride with her. She meets up with Claire and they go down the alley of closed stores toward the parking lot. Once they get out of our sight A-hole breaks into running and chases after them.
Without missing a beat both Carl and I kick it up and run after him, Carl yelling a prominent, “HEY!”. At this point (and afterwards Carl thought the same thing) I realize that I will keep running towards this guy but have no clue what I will do when I get there. I then turn to my right and realize that Carl still has a lit cigarette. That’s all we need to get some answers. I am still on the sidewalk and Carl has made a shortcut through Border’s parking lot. I then witness the man leap (in full original Super Mario Bros.-style pose) over the four foot wall at the edge of the lot.
Turning the corner we are greeted with the pleasent image of Claire and Kristen already in Claire’s car backing out of a space. When Carl and I reach the parking lot A-hole is off to the side in the shadows, realizing that the “boys” had chased after the “girls”. He stood in the shadows and didn’t even have the decency to pretend he was urinating.
Good news is that the douchebag paid with a credit card and we have his name. We went down to Campbell’s and Roger hooked us up. All in all the evening was cool for all the wrong reasons. On a side note, while driving away A-hole came out of the shadows on a sidestreet and Kristen gave him the finger and he returned the gesture.
