Kwyet Ryet seenger iz ded

A couple of irrelevant Quiet Riot memories in honor of the passing of singer Kevin DuBrow:

1. I recall the beating that 1986's Quiet Riot III got in Rolling Stone magazine when it came out and being flabbergasted because they were so popular at the time, what with two international megahits off of Metal Health. I didn't understand at the time, being only 11 or 12 or so, that Rolling Stone's opinions didn't mean shit because the magazine was for hippies.

2. When The Captain was spinning tunes once a week at the local community radio station (motto: "Please give us money"), he would invite me to sit in with him on the air about once a year for a Very Special Episode of general shenanigans and tomfoolery (sample bumper: "Playing more music in an hour ... than other stations play in an hour.").

One night, we thought it would be hilarious to play QR's "Metal Health (Bang Your Head)" because 1) it was manly and the music played on the station was, by and large, faggy, and 2) it was 12:30 in the morning. This was a fabulous idea, save for the fact that we started talking over the song a full 2 minutes before it ended, and I called it "the extended dance version" on the air.

One note about "Bang Your Head": Isn't that riff awesome, though, and isn't it stuck in your head now?

(Completely irrelevant to this irrelevant post: While searching Rolling Stone's archives to find the Quiet Riot III review to link in this post, I noted that on their current reviews, an album called V is for Vagina by something called Puscifier received two and a half stars, while Celine Dion's Taking Chances received one star. I don't know why this is funny.)

----------------
Now playing: Sloan - HFXNSHC
via FoxyTunes

I did something today that was unforeseeable as little as 3 years ago.

I took down all of the NASCAR memorabilia from my office wall and put it in upstairs storage. Not much use for it anymore, since the bulk of my collecting focused on Ricky Rudd and Dale Jarrett. Ricky's not won a race since 2002, and today is the final start of his career (allegedly). Dale hasn't ran well since my fanhood of him started, then he made an ill-advised jump to Toyota and hasn't even made the show half the time this year.

I don't have the time or the interest to detail how I've fallen out of love with NASCAR the last couple of years, but all of the arguments have been made in other blogs, fan sites, and message boards; I don't need to rehash them here.

I am grateful for one thing, though, in light of the closing of this chapter of my life: I am so very thankful that I didn't name my son Dale Ricky or Dale Richard or Ricky Dale. Believe it or not, it was considered.

----------------
Now playing: Sloan - Set in Motion
via FoxyTunes


----------------
Now playing: Sloan - Ill Placed Trust
http://foxytunes.com/artist/sloan/track/ill+placed+trust

You wouldn't think that an album whose closing song is a beautiful tune paradoxically titled "Grudge F***" would be a candidate for album of the year, yet The Pernice Brothers' Live A Little is, from where I sit, a gorgeous album that deserves all the accolades it likely hasn't gotten (I don't know; I dropped out of reading the music press some time back).

Joe Pernice isn't going to save rock and roll - if necessary, that would be a task best left to Sloan and Drive-By Truckers - but Live A Little's unexpected and sudden place in my heavy rotation is a well-deserved one, and where the hell has he been the last 10 years, anyway?

----------------
Now playing: The Pernice Brothers - Conscience Clean (I Went to Spain)
via FoxyTunes

A random observation:

"Sunny San Diego," my ass. I haven't seen the sun since Indiana.

Before I left for California, my wife said, "Honey, it's OK if you end up with a cheap floozy out there; just be sure and divorce me first."

Me: "OK."

I think she was kidding. I think I was, too.

So, I'm out here, and she sends me an e-mail today that included this info:

"So, have you found a cheap hussy yet?"

Me: "Nothing is cheap out here."

I'm still waiting on her reply.

Things I have learned the last couple of days during my sojourn to crispy SoCal, and other random thoughts:

1. A bunch of Marines got laid last night in my hotel. Good for them!

Actually, it was the annual Marines' birthday ball. I had the opportunity to talk to a few of them last night; we had some common interests, since I work for a defense contractor. One of them actually thanked me for my work.

I laughed. Heartily.

"No, no, you don't understand," I replied. "Thank *you* for your service to this country. I go to work in a small, rural setting every day and don't have to worry about snipers, IEDs or sand in my ass. Thank *you*."

On my flight from Denver to San Diego, I sat next to a kid from Missouri who was coming out to California to go to basic training. I was a bit uncomfortable in my seat, getting a cramp in my leg, my back a little sore from not finding the right position to sit in, my foot occasionally falling asleep. I figured I'd keep my complaints to myself, in light of the company I was in.

Anyway, back to last night: It was a Marine birthday ball, and while my buddies and I were closing down the hotel bar, I saw a bunch of Marines going back up to their rooms with their gussied-up companions. God bless America.

2. California is different. It's not weird, though I had envisioned San Diego being a lot more relaxed than what it is.

But one of my colleagues last night said something about how something in particular "reminded him of home." I said, "This is nothing like home. This is actually the precise opposite of home. It's bizarro home."

Just as a point of reference, I haven't had a beer that was less expensive than $4.50, gas is $3.40 a gallon along the freeway, and people drive 90 miles an hour here all the time, even in the drive-thru. We have had several near-accidents as "taking our lives in our own hands" takes on a whole new meaning. I wonder what the rush is, or where the fire is (hee).

3. The gougery is ongoing at our hotel. High-speed internet is $10 a day, the 1-liter bottles of Evian that they put in your room are $4.50 apiece, and if you smoke in your room or the balcony, they will supposedly charge you a $250 "room recovery fee". As I smoked on my balcony before noticing this vital piece of information yesterday morning, I put my hand on the exterior of the building, pulled it back and had a fine dusting of ash covering my fingers. Regular building dust or wildfire remnants? I vote for the latter.

Everything here is stucco, by the way.

4. On our way from the airport to the hotel, we tried desperately to find an English-speaking radio station. We thought we had finally found one when we scanned to a Neil Young song. But then the DJ came on speaking Spanish. "(spanish spanish spanish spanish) Neil Young y 'Cortez de Keeler.'"

5. I am ready to come home.

"We're not going to beat them with field goals," I told Mrs. Tamble as the Colts' Adam Vinatieri knocked through another chip-shot to cut the New England lead to 7-6 in the first half.

And we didn't. Rats.

Sad how the Colts dominated the best team in football, the unstoppable New England juggernaut, for the better part of three quarters before petering out in the 4th. A 10-point lead with 9 minutes left in the game? How many times have we seen Manning and company chew up the clock in this situation?

Yet last night, with so much on the line (homefield advantage when these two teams surely meet again in the playoffs, continued dominance over their main nemesis, restaking their claim as the best in football after so much attention had been given to the Patriots through the first half of the season), the Colts withered. And now they'll probably have to make plans to go to that shithole New England in January.

Oh well. It was a great game, for sure - the outcome just wasn't the preferred one for this Colts fan.

----------------
Now playing: Sloan - On the Horizon
via FoxyTunes

A handful of random thoughts on a beer-sodden Saturday night:

* Question for the Bramble Tamble audience: on a scale of 1-10, 1 being least and 10 being most, how tacky is it to make a birthday card on your computer for someone?

* My last vestige of interest in the Indiana high school football playoffs fell by the wayside last night, as Indiana School for the Deaf's dream season came to an end in the sectional final against small-school powerhouse Indianapolis Ritter. If you're interested in what I had started to write last week about the Deaf School's 9-win season before its loss last night, here's a draft.

It's time for basketball now. My alma mater has a new coach with a vanilla name, and have replaced Linton with Trinity Lutheran on its schedule, adding a likely win to its ledger. Plus, with powerhouse Forest Park out of the conference, Bramble Tamble guarantees at least a 9th-place finish in the Blue Chip for his alma mater!

Without knowing the personnel on my old high school's team, I still like them to beat Trinity Lutheran, Medora, Dugger, Cannelton, and New Harmony, plus maybe a conference win against Washington Catholic. (And this is for no other reason other than the fact that they are Trinity Lutheran, Medora, Dugger, Cannelton, New Harmony and Washington Catholic. Who knows - one of them could have a Dugger-in-1999 type of season where they win 24 games.) You read it here first.

* Speaking of Indiana high school basketball, I was a little lax in keeping up with Winless Watch last year. I vow to you that I will at least consider updating it regularly, after the first of the year. I am also considering putting the whole Winless Watch concept on a different blog, and have reserved a site just in case.

* Tomorrow is Colts-Patriots. I don't really share the world's righteous indignation at Belichick's SpyGate scandal, though I do have at least a tiny issue with the fact that they are running up the score against their opponents. A lot of pundits are framing tomorrow's AFC Championship preview as "good versus evil," and I think that's a bit over the top, even as a Colts fan. Really, I think it's great for both teams to have a foil to play off of, and I think it's fantastic that the Patriots have retooled their team specifically with the Colts in mind.

My biggest fear is that tomorrow's game is just going to be a turkey, that one of them won't show up and that it will end up being a 49-14 blowout. With all of the attention focused on this game, that would be truly sad. I don't even care if the Colts lose by a field goal at the end (at least, it wouldn't be the end of my world, though I would be temporarily saddened by it) - as long as the game is near-classic, that's fine by me.

* Replica jerseys are expensive, and as such, I only have one Colts jersey in my wardrobe. And it's for someone who is no longer with the team.

So, my question to you is - is it tacky to continue wearing said jersey?

(The player in question is the tastefully named Brandon Stokley.)

* I've changed the front wallpaper on my cell phone from the clock to where it reads "fuck off." I think this is the funniest thing in the world. I look to see if anyone has called, and it says, "fuck off." God, I love this.

* Even though it says that Grant Lee's version of "Burning Love" is playing right now, it was only playing at the start of my writing this post. The Faces' version of "Maggie May" is playing now, and it reminds me of a particularly wine-soaked night in IU's Teter Quad where the Captain and myself tried to cover it.

The wine in question was Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill. I believe that the night in question was the night that Mike Tyson was released from jail. I remember this only because the Captain passed out on my bed and I ended up sleeping on the floor. Later, I learned that he only pretended to be asleep.

Fascinatingly, I'm finally not pissed about this particular point anymore.

Although I do wonder if he's still pissed about waking every 50 minutes and hearing Nirvana's cover of "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?" playing on my stereo.

----------------
Now playing: Grant Lee Buffalo - Burning Love
via FoxyTunes

Naturally, I'm overthinking this flying thing. Cause hundreds of flights take off every day and land safely without incident, and it's safer than driving a car, so they say. Which, I still don't buy, only because I have to have that modicum of control, and putting your life into a pilot's hands takes a small leap of faith.

Of course, my brother-in-law, upon learning about my upcoming trip to San Diego (or, as Son says, "Sandy"), just has to tell me about this thing he saw on YouTube, this video collage of crosswinds blowing planes everywhere upon landing.

And, of course, Wife still regales me with the story about the time she was in a plane and they hit an air pocket.

And, of course, somewhere, "Snakes on a Plane" is playing. Which, right now, would combine my two worst fears.

I only have a window seat for one leg of the trip - the overnight portion from "Sandy" to Chicago on my return trip. I had a bit of a panic attack earlier this week, thinking of being 30,000 feet up in a steel tube with it being pitch black outside. I do not give a shit that I will likely be sleeping. It's just the thought of it, and I felt really claustrophobic for a moment. I can't imagine that that thought process won't re-rear its ugly head sometime between now and then.

Really, I don't know that it would be better or worse than seeing the ground from that height. I don't have a problem with heights once I get up there ... again, I think it's just the "giving up control" thing. Even if it is to a trained professional.

So, ummmmm .... please, no horror stories about planes, and it'd be good if you didn't remind me of 9/11 until after the fact as well.

****

Broke the news to Son tonight that Daddy was going away for about 4 days next week. I tried and failed to explain California to him; here's the best I could do:

"Ummmmm .... OK. You know where Lightning McQueen and The King and Chick Hicks had their race at?"

"You're going to Sandy to watch race cars?"

"Son, say 'San Diego.'"

So, that was a fiasco.

----------------
Now playing: Robbie Fulks - I Never Did Like Planes
via FoxyTunes

"Hey buddy, you need a ride? I was just on my way to the big doofus convention!"

On the front page of MSN.com yesterday was a subhead that read "8 hot new Canadian pop acts."

And, lo and behold, one of the "hot new ... pop acts" from Canada was Bramble Tamble's favorite active band, Sloan.

I don't have to tell you that that entire subhead, save for the "Canadian act" part, was wrong.

Funny nonetheless. (Another note about the article: isn't Ron Sexsmith, like, 70? Seems like he's been around forever too.)

Here's the article. Of course, it doesn't have the headline that I referenced above, making me look delusional. But I swear that MSN.com had that subhead on its front page.

****

Hair.

I used to have it down to my ass till I started losing it on top, and there's nothing tackier, save for wet paint. So I got it cut, short. (It didn't help that people who saw me from back in a store kept calling me "ma'am," and the security sweeps in stores when I'd come through were also a blow to my fragile self-esteem.) Now I try to keep it shaved clean, a dodgy proposition at times thanks to my laziness; when it grows back in, I have what I like to call "pedophile hair."

Mrs. Tamble had long stringy sloppy dark brown hair when I met her. After we had Son, she decided that long hair was for pain junkies, since Son treated her hair as a handle for pulling himself up. So she got "mom hair" – short, off the shoulders. Not bad.

She's taken the next step in her hair evolution, getting it colored a deep red/burgundy. I believe the proper term is "cinnamon." I dig it.

I still have pedophile hair because I haven't shaved my head in a month or so.

****

Speaking of my favorite Canadian popsters (ha), Ruby Tuesday's has got to be the coolest restaurant chain in the world because I was there the other night and – what the hell? – heard a Sloan song there. I checked outside to see if I saw pigs flying or other signs of the world ending.

The song in question was "False Alarm," from their sadly lackluster Action Pact album. Well, "sadly lackluster" was my initial and ongoing reaction to it. I revisited the album after hearing "False Alarm" at Ruby Tuesday's, and I have to say: It strikes a different vibe from other Sloan albums; the songcraft is still a little weaker, but the vibe it strikes is what I like to call a "homemade highballs/Very Best of Foghat/getting drunk at a party and giving blowjobs to complete strangers on a burgundy vinyl couch" vibe.

(Funny how my spellchecker didn't alert me about "blowjobs" there, but it complained about "handjobs" in my original edit of this piece.)

But you know exactly what I mean. Don't pretend that you don't.

(Editor's note: Isn't it funny how I've abandoned every pretense of this being a family-friendly blog?)

----------------
Now playing: Sloan - False Alarm
via FoxyTunes