Today is the kind of day that days were made for.

Well, it's been long enough, July has begun and all of the entries I tried to start in June or late May were aborted for one reason or another. Here were their topics:

A Weekend in HammondsportHere I had begun a nice chronicle of my Memorial Day weekend in lovely Hammondsport, NY with my incredible girlfriend, Amy, and close friends, Tim and ( Read more... )

It was with a great deal of heretofore unavailable respect that croquet and I coexisted. No doubt the game never thought much of me before this weekend either, but after the exciting bloodletting on Saturday, I feel as though I've earned a small place near the heart of the game and, as a result, find myself thinking about it regularly. I cannot ( Read more... )

I'll never pretend to understand why certain things just aren't so. For instance, why is it that the Court & Spark are not recognized as one of the elite of the current musical generation? This is a band that is making truly timeless recordings, but who is buried underneath the waves and waves of mediocre pap that coast on image, false emotion, ( Read more... )

It is rare that I get to play the banjo in public, mostly because the band I play in is too loud in a live setting to bring the thing out and adequately amplify it, but this week, beginning with the show last night, is filled with three chances. It's a nice instrument, one that is not hard to play (save the right hand, only because I've never been ( Read more... )

Spring wore its best colors to celebrate the beginning of Detroit's baseball season today and the Tigers showed their appreciation, Dimitri Young especially. It's nice to see him come out of the gate and hit three home runs, alongside a single and a walk, to lead off an incredible 11-2 win ( Read more... )

I've been barreling along lately with not much to show for my soul; empty from the fruit of un-harvested art left to rot, though I've craved it deeply, due to the need to fulfill the business side necessary to make the journey of the art already made coast past the mud at my doorstep. The problem with this is that I'm not particularly proficient ( Read more... )

It's been 2 weeks without a car, and I've made it without incident until this morning when, as Doug dropped me off in the parking lot, I took a hard spill on the ice. The way I landed this morning was awkward and I ended up with a bruised left hand and a ever-so-slightly strained tendon in the same hand, but under normal conditions, I'd tough ( Read more... )

This morning, as I chuckled out a laugh, I jogged my own memory towards the possible source of the undulation. Yup, I realized that this certain closed-mouth hiccup to which I am prone seems to be a cross between the way my grandmother laughed and the way Marge Simpson laughs. Surprisingly, considering I am neither an old woman nor a blue-haired ( Read more... )

I just stumbled across a livejournal named after a lyric from one of my band's CDs. At first I thought nothing of the name "motel_bible," but when I checked the writer's "user info" page and noticed her tag, "As cold as a motel bible," I thought the line must be more than a coincidence. Sure enough, in her interests she lists us. What's great ( Read more... )