Targhee New Year

Tim and I and the hounds are off to Driggs today after work. For the second year, Sarah's family has been kind enough to let us stay at their cabin out there, so in Cathy's absence, I head off for a weekend in the snow.

And I mean snow.

Tons and tons of snow.

We'll be skiing and running the mutts ragged all weekend. A little beer, some good food, lots of reading.

Happy New Year

Rummy's Number

Keith Olbermann's got it.

Sure, he comes from the SportsCenter PrettyBoy journo past, and he is prone to self-righteous rants, but once in a while he nails it.

This time, he's gunning for Rumsfeld, and it's a hell of a piece.

Check it out here.

Love Winter

When the snow's on and the sun's out, I remember why I do love winter.

Will and I headed up to Bogus mid-day on Friday, and it was fantastic. A little bit of new snow and plenty of sunshine. Definitely the nicest weather I've ever skied in.

This weekend will be a series of meals and ski trips.

Merry Christmas.

Creeping Crud

Stuck in that sluggish middle ground between being sick and being healthy.

I had one bad day, last Thursday, when I was sick enough to skip work and sleep til noon-thirty. How often do you get to do that anymore? The next day I worked at home, feeling better enough but not wanting to cough whatever this was all over the office.

Over the weekend I flipped between being better and getting worse, never really doing either. And today, Wednesday, I'm still much the same.

I'm not riding hardly at all--only to work a couple times. I'm skipping the Y, and I'm laying around a lot. But still, the same crap. And it appears this is some sort of epidemic, spreading among co-workers silently and slowly. And the bad thing is, this is one of those illnesses where you mostly feel ok enough to come to work, so everyone does, and we keep spreading it around, and it'll take forever to go away.

Blah blah blah. I hate this shit and I'm ready to be done with it. The holidays are about here and I've skiing to do.

Ah, the bachelor life...

Loud rock music in the morning.

Bread baking at odd hours.

2-sided conversations with the dogs.

Omelets full of elk sausage for dinner.

Dumb, dumb comedy DVDs.

Reading a magazine at every meal.



Things are getting a little out of hand around here...

The Best of 2006

Everyone's doing it. So I am, too.

Here's another list to dump on the pile: The Top Ten Albums of 2006.

It's been a hell of a year.

Top Ten Albums of 2006

1. Califone ~ Roots and Crowns
2. Silversun Pickups ~ Carnavas
3. TV on the Radio ~ Return to Cookie Mountain
4. Cat Power ~ The Greatest
5. Band of Horses ~ Everything All the Time
6. Cut Chemist ~ The Audience’s Listening
7. Tapes n Tapes ~ The Loon
8. Electric President ~ Electric President
9. Yo La Tengo ~ I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass
10. Gnarls Barkley ~ St. Elsewhere


Also, in pretty particular order:

Great stuff from old faves that just missed
The Flaming Lips ~ At War With the Mystics
Sonic Youth ~ Rather Ripped

Bright new big future stuff
Snowden ~ Anti Anti
The Black Angels ~ Passover
Art Brut ~ Bang Bang Rock and Roll

Big surprises--for me, anyway
Thom Yorke ~ The Eraser
Ms. John Soda ~ Notes and the Like

Women I love who should be on the list
Beth Orton ~ Comfort of Strangers
Neko Case ~ Fox Confessor Brings the Flood

How the hell did this not make it?
Built to Spill ~ You In Reverse
The Hold Steady ~ Boys and Girls in America

Also almost, but not quite, for one reason or another
The Evens ~ Get Evens
Ray LaMontagne ~ Til the Sun Turns Black
Psapp ~ The Only Thing I Ever Wanted
Yeah Yeah Yeahs ~ Show Your Bones
Brazilian Girls ~ Talk to La Bomb
Tom Waits ~ Orphans...

The Islam Dichotomy

Nicholas Kristof in today's NY Times makes a valiant attempt to address Western stereotypes of Muslims in an honest and direct manner. Kristof is one of my favorite columnists, and as he usually does, he presents a sympathetic and multifaceted argument.

But in the end, he leaves quite the white elephant sitting in the room. And it's a big one.

He makes the point that sure, many Muslim societies grab headlines with extremist political action or shocking personal retribution or reprehensible treatment of women.

But that's just the Arabs.

"Riverine or coastal" Muslims, like those in Indonesia, are a different sort. He says that while he finds stereotypes of Muslims profoundly warped, they are only so because, "Those stereotypes are largely derived from the less than 20 percent of Muslims who are Arabs, with Persians and Pashtuns thrown in as well. But the great majority of the world’s Muslims live not in the Middle East but here in Asia, where religion has mostly been milder."

So rather than debunk a stereotype, he localizes it, moving it offshore to the desert regions.

To be honest, I find it hard to fault this logic. Not that Indonesia is free of problems or extremism--think back to Bali in 05 or 02--but Kristof finds them to be more tolerant of other religions and of the women in their midst climbing the social and professional and societal ladders. And if we take a look at the direct interactions between America and Muslim societies, the problematic ones tend to follow Kristof's model.

In the end, Kristof offers us no easy way out of this dichotomy; indeed, no way out at all.

"There is a historic dichotomy between desert Islam — the austere fundamentalism of countries like Saudi Arabia — and riverine or coastal Islam, more outward-looking, flexible and tolerant. Desert Muslims grab the headlines, but my bet is that in the struggle for the soul of Islam, maritime Muslims have the edge."

I have to admit, this troubles me. Because the point of debunking a stereotype is in the end to defeat it on exactly that basis--that it is a stereotype. It's an extreme relativist pose, but it's the only one possible if we are to avoid the descent into action defined by prejudice. Not that I'm suggesting that's where Kristof takes this column, not at all. But that idea rises out of the other ideas presented here, and there's no refutation to be found.

Like most of the problems we as Westerners face in the rising clash between Islam and the West--if indeed those very terms have meaning any more, which is a topic for another day--there is no easy answer to the problem, if even an easy definition of it.

So in avoiding the predictable end to his column, Kristof maintains the dichotomy, leaving us to wonder whether he does believe that desert Islam is the problem, but that in the end they will lose their edge, and coastal Islam will become dominant.

It's an interesting proposition. It's something to think about both in watching the relationship unfold to see if he's right, and in examining our own thoughts and beliefs about the intrinsic value of Islam--even of religion itself--in its many forms.

Impending Departure

This Saturday, Cathy leaves for Myanmar.

She'll be there, traveling with our friend Christina, for about a month. Christmas and New Year's will both slide by before she returns.

Some are baffled by the fact that we often travel separately. Others are totally mystified as to why anyone in their right mind would want to go to Myanmar. I mean, Burma? WTF?

The answers are simple. We travel separately because we are adults who love to travel and our schedules, plans, and desired destinations don't always match up. We both traveled before, and we both continue now. We feel it makes our bond stronger.

And why Burma? Because. We were both captivated by SE Asia on our honeymoon, and it just happens that I couldn't swing a trip of this magnitude right now, while Cathy could, and this trip fit the bill that Cathy and Christina have been trying to fill--a good trip to take together--since they met in Zimbabwe many years ago.

I'm jealous, plain and simple.

This spring Cathy and I will travel together to Jamaica and NYC. Possibly to Amsterdam in the fall. And next year, I'm looking for a big extended outing to New Zealand. Hopefully. If I don't travel to Spain for a trip around the Vuelta.

It's nice to make plans.

But, back to the point of this post: I'm about to be without my wife for a month, including during the holidays.

It's a total drag, but I know she'll have a blast and I know how happy we'll be to see each other when she gets back. And a trip to Driggs over New Year's will soften the blow a good bit.

Happy, safe travels to her.

Weekends of Winter

These are the days of bread baking and late morning lingering over coffee. When getting through an entire New Yorker is justification enough for a Sunday well spent.

I've adjusted. I've accepted the loss of the frantically productive and recreative summer weekends, when not a minute can be wasted, and am enjoying the slower, calmer, more cerebral days of this season.

Last night the BCRP had a practice new year's eve party that was a great success. We had a great crowd, a solid lineup of live music and DJs, and a most decent haul at the door. And it's paved the way for more and more successful fundraising efforts, as we get our name connected in the community's mind to events like these.

And if we're out hobnobbing and fundraising all night long all weeekend, taking in tapas at 11pm on Friday night after the IRC event or downing a good share of Newcastles at the Bouquet all night Saturday, the days are slow and wonderful, long walks with the dogs in the Military Reserve, and copious amounts of coffee throughout the day.

Practice New Year's Eve

Tonight at the Bouquet in chilly downtown Boise, the Boise Community Radio Project will host a Practice New Year's Eve Party. We'll have a bunch of live bands including the wonderful Kris Doty as well as The Universal, who I've been meaning to catch for a while now.

Between sets we'll have RadioBoise DJs, and some special guests, spinning tracks from progressive decades as we count our way down to the current year.

This promises to be a hell of a fun night. If you're in town, come check it out.

Snow on That Thar Hill

Winter is officially here.

Bogus has a couple feet sitting on it by now. They opened for business on Wednesday.

I haven't been up yet. Wanted to go today, but work won. I'm hoping to get up there during the week next week, as I've sworn off weekend skiing up there after last year's experiences.

I'm looking forward to my first turns of the year. See what I forgot, and see if I can turn into a decently sub-par skier by the end of the year.

Wahoo.

Thanks Gave, and On with the Month

Seems we've hit a brief downhill slide.

That's always a weird turn of phrase. In one sense, all being downhill from here seems like a bad thing. As if things can only get worse.

But then again, when it's all downhill, it's all easy going, coasting, no work left, just enjoy the fruits of what you went through to get to the top of the hill. So let's take that meaning here.

Ma Hess is out of the hospital and recovering in the comfort of her own home.

Grandma K got out of the rehab center not only to eat Thanksgiving dinner with the family, but the next day for leftovers as well. "That's the best part," she said, so they sprung her and brought her home for a sandwich.

And AP is also home recovering quickly. He's still got a short ways to go to get out of these particular woods, but hopefully the end is in sight.

Me, I ate a lot, rode a bit, and laid around more than I can remember doing in quite some time. It was nice, but it's nice to get back to it as well.

Aaawwwwwwwww...

Isn't it cute?

I've got to send my iPod in to Apple for service. After I get an estimate, I have to send it on to Visa for some action. The Pod is out of Apple warranty, but still covered by the credit card I used to buy it.

Anyway.

All of this goes to tell why I bought this ridiculous little thing. I can use it in the meantime, while the big unit is off getting repaired (or, hopefully, replaced). I can use it in the gym or on rides instead of carrying the big'n and risking it getting messed up. And I needed new earbuds anyway, which cost $50 on their own. This thing, refurbished, was $59. Seems like a no-brainer.

Surgery Every Day

And today the matriarch, Ma Hess, heads to hospital for her own procedure.

Scaring the crap out of her entire family, the docs not too long ago found a tumor in the Moms. Nothing too serious, they assure, not the C word. We just gotta go in and take it out.

So today, they go in and take it out. From all accounts the procedure will not be nearly as hard as the few days of prep and fasting she's endured leading up to it, but still. There'll be 2 to 4 days of hospital time afterward to make sure the whole GI tract is intact and working again.

But that's all just precautionary. No worries.

So good luck, Ma, hope it all goes quick and smooth.

And then can we all just be done with hospitals for a while? Please?

Update:
Flying colors. That's how the Moms came through this surgery. The report from Dad is in, and all is well as expected. Excellent.

One More Time

This morning, one last time, AP goes under the knife.

Dr. Little will re-enter at the site of the very first brain surgery, from way back this time last year, to remove the tumor on the third cranial nerve.

This time, the whole nerve will come out. That means eyelid function, eye rotation, and pupil dilation are all lost. So the eye is shut.

But, neither will there be a chance of the tumor returning. So, no more surgery.

It's been a long road to this point, and we're all hoping this is where it stops. Return to health and life and work and certainty. No returns to the hospital.

Cross all yer fingers. Good luck Tony.

Update:

The surgery went well and AP is recovering nicely. According to the doc, this stubborn bastard of a tumor has spread and grown more than they thought, attaching itself to the brain stem. That is what they call "inoperable," as they won't operate on it due to the sensitive nature of its location. The answer? Radiation, a one-shot heavy-duty blast during surgery, to come in 6 to 8 weeks. We hope this will neutralize or kill it. For now, let's be content with a speedy recovery from the surgery. First things first.

The Morning Commute

I returned from Alabama to snow-capped foothills and chilly morning rides. There's a bit over a foot of snow on the ground up at Bogus already, and the mountains of Central Idaho have a good bit more than that.

Early yesterday morning was my first glimpse of it, and it's always a shock and a wake-up call to see it for the first time.

This morning, though, it was glorious, the whole sky painted pink and orange and the white snow reflecting all of it.

Seems winter's here.

Anyone wanna plan a ski visit?

Sweet Home Idaho

Back last night from the Dirty South, as it were, after having a very nice visit with the parents and extended family. Nice to be there, as we got to spend some good time with the Brow clan as well as Grandma Kleaver.

I must admit I was a bit nervous rolling into the rehab facility where the OG was staying, and our first foray into her room did nothing to dispel that nervousness. In fact, I was a bit shocked at seeing her. We often hold in our minds images of friends and family at their best, or at least at their most familiar, and this was a conflicting image: small, frail, on oxygen and a bit confused.

But, it seems we woke her from a deep sleep, and after having a few minutes to gather herself and get into a wheelchair and out into the common room, she was practically as I'd remembered. Hell, who IS at their best when woken from a deep sleep?

Turns out she's just as sharp, funny, and cantankerous as ever, it just takes a little longer for the exchanges to happen. She's doing better and all hope to get her back to her normal assisted living soon.

It was great to hang with the parents, too. They seem happy and healthy and are firmly entrenched in a growing community of family and friends. That's good to see.

More than one conversation turned to the fact that we are all so far flung, that wouldn't it be nice to live in the same place, especially with realistic grandkid conversations now in the realm of the happening. And it would. It'd be great. But it just doesn't seem possible at this time. Whatever my opinion, they're settled there in Montgomery, and I honestly can't imagine a single scenario that would get me to move there. If they love it, fine, great even, but there's just nothing there for me and the wifey.

But at least it was a nice visit. We'll cross the rest of these bridges as we come to them.

Hardcore Montgomery

I'm in Montgomery, AL, visiting the 'rents this weekend. Eric, John, and Tamara have come here for the weekend as well, so it's nice having the big family gathering before all the holiday insanity.

Last night, after yet another amazing meal, and after sitting through the end of the Spongebob movie (hilarious), Eric and I headed out to sample the city's nightlife. We often end up at a joint called Head on the Door, a dark little pseudo-punky craphole off the Eastern Bypass.

After sitting in the smoke-loaded room for a beer we were on the verge of breaking out, the air just too thick to manage, a couple of the kids shoved the pool table into the corner and started carting in gear.

A band? In this tiny room?

Yup.

They were called The Death Defying Die'ers, and they turned out to be a totally passable hardcore band. Who'd a thunk it? They did 2 sets and it wasn't horrible--at a couple points, it even sounded ok. Sure, they were often off, beats dropped and guitar lines flubbed in a way even obvious in that sort of music, but they pulled it off and provided a totally unexpected diversion for us. They pulled out a cover of the classic rock staple "She's Not There," which was very cool--until they did it the second time, when it became a bit stupid.

Still and all, a nice night out.

Think Nationally

As the day wears on, I'm losing the edge of my gloom about last night and thinking more of what can be accomplished on the national level.

We've got the House, and we damn well may get the Senate. That's fantastic, and it's a lot of responsibility.

To change the course of the nation and get right what's been got so wrong is the ultimate goal. And it's possible. Raising minimum wage, re-addressing our strategy in Iraq, putting the country's resources full-tilt toward developing green energy--this is where we should start. Let's hope.

So, in the dark of the fall's early evening, I can feel a bit more content about the state of things. And finally we can look forward to working to make things better.

All But the Shouting

This morning brought that tired, slightly down feeling that usually comes after something so long anticipated has past.

The elections are over--most of them, anyway--and now it's time to look past the horribly depressing local results to the national results for consolation. The good guys took the house, and there's still a chance they'll take the Senate. That's good.

But still. Butch Otter is our new governor, and Idahodians should fear him even more than ineffectual dipshit Dirk the Jerk. Otter's dangerous. Likewise Bill Sali. Too close to call? He's a nutbag who even members of his own friggin party can't stand, but we in Idaho would be proud to call him congressman. Sure, the election's not truly counted and done, but just the closeness is disgusting.

Far as I know, the Ada comissioner spot is still too close to call, so we don't know if Paul Woods pulled that one out or not. Risch won, as did Simpson. Neither of those is a surprise, but they're still terrible results.

The people have spoken. And if this is what the Republicans get as payback for their fuckups of the last 6 years, then we should truly be worried about becoming a single-party government.

This is no revolution. It's not even a sweeping up. It's the minumum possible change for a country so mired in partisan politics that we can't even see what's good for us. And it all boils down to what people do in the voting booth when confronted with the little D's and R's. They choke. They don't follow through with any sort of bold move or decision based on conscience. They tow the line.

We get what we deserve, right?

What it's all about

Bush isn't on the ballot this year, but really, he's what this election is all about.

Let's hope we and our fellow citizens are this smart.

Vote, for Piss' Sakes

Tomorrow's the big day. We could see big change. I doubt it, but we could.

More likely we'll see smaller change, fueled by discontent and the first tentative toe-reaches into independent thought, restrained by fear of breaking with the talk radio and church group crowds. "But, the Republicans are strong on defense... Um, moral values... Um, well, I've just always voted Republican and those Democrats like gays too much..."

So, I think we'll see change, but not nearly enough. And that will mean that Democrat victors in both the local races and the national ones will need to do some serious work to bring the gains they make this year to 2008.

Here in Idaho, it's reasonable to think that the Democrat Larry Grant will gain Otter's vacated house seat from Republican lunatic Bill Sali. Shocking, but reasonable. The governor's race is a close one, too, with long-shot perennial Dem candidate Jerry Brady actually pulling ahead of Butch Otter in some polls.

Me, I believe that once most Republican voters get in the booth and have their grubby little hands on the lever, as it were, it will be too much of a leap to punch the D hole. So the actual change will not reflect the true level of discontent, because we are cowardly.

I hope I'm wrong.

Regardless, vote. And tell your friends to vote. It's all about turnout.

Live Tonight

Tonight, Monday night, October 30, from 8 until 11 mountain time, I'm doing a test-run of Range Life live on the air at www.radioboise.org.

Big deal you say?

Fair enough. Big deal. Thousands of people do this kind of thing every day. Many of them are not so bright. So big deal.

But it's a big deal for me. The first in what I hope is a long line of live broadcasts, somday soon hopefully moving to the actual airwaves. For now, we'll take the netwaves. The ether. Whatever.

Check it out. Gimme a call at 208.424.8166. Or e-mail me at crhess@gmail.com. Make a request. Tell me how it sounds. Dictate a PSA. Or, just listen.

RrrrrrrrOCKtober

Great turnout last night at the Neurolux for Viva Voce and Silversun Pickups. And the thick and excitable crowd was rewarded with a kickass rock show.

Openers The Kingdom were good enough, though I admit I didn't pay such close attention. The sound was spare and the songs seemed catchy enough. Sorry, that's all I've got.

But the middle band, Silversun Pickups, just pulled out the stops and shredded the joint. They were fantastic. High energy, impeccable sound, and no cutting of any corners. The singer's a weird dude with a slightly girly voice, but as he fluctuates in intensity and moves from a sibilant whispery voice to a growling scream, his songs are brought to life.

They made believers out of lots of people last night.

And while I was worried that folks would clear out after their set, being a school night in Boise and all, I was pleasantly surprised to see the front-of-house crowd swell when Viva Voce hit the stage. They too put on a hell of a show, playing it loud and hard as often as possible, and fleshing out the quiet bits nicely. They make a lot of noise for 2 people, that's for sure.

Great show.

Live Music

Califone's show at the Neurolux was good. It wasn't great, but it was good.

Part of it was that the band was a trio--by far the fewest people I've seen on stage for a Califone show. The band has shapeshifted since its inception, but this new stripped down format was a bit too stripped. And this coming from me--I love minimalism in music and all other things, but this lineup depended too much on nuance, leaned too heavily on the quieter stuff, to come across right.

Another part was that Neurolux crowds are among the loudest and least-engaged of any venue I've been in. And this is consistent. It's almost a shame the main bar isn't in another room altogether.

This week holds another type of rock show. On Thursday, Silversun Pickups and Viva Voce will play the Lux, and from what I've seen of both these bands, it should be a good one.

Silversun Pickups impressed at SXSW this year, even though I'd come to them blind and only saw them accidentally as I waited for the band that followed them. They put on a hell of a show, though, high energy and sufficient charm to bring their songs to life. Viva Voce pull off the chill groove well in the live setting, so they should be good complement to each other.

Califone - Roots & Crowns

Califone's new CD, Roots & Crowns, hit today, and I expect it will further their legacy as one of the most criminally underrated and underappreciated bands in all of indie rock.

This is amazing music, plain and simple. Tim Rutili bends tunes and strings together images and suggestions like no one else. His is a twisted and heartbreaking sort of American music, full of narrow eyed confusion, lumpthroated wanderings, maniacally genius guitarwork, and some of the coolest noise outside of Noise.

This is the blues, but (forgive me) so much better. It's a remaking of American music, drawing on Delta and Chicago blues as well as the finest traditions of punk and noise rock to piece togehter collages that get more beautiful the closer they come to disintegration.

Pink and Sour kicks things off with an appropriate stomp, and the line runs hilly from there. Slow and spooky to raw and rocking, things open up with A Chinese Actor and blow apart again and again. The Orchids is gorgeous and Black Metal Valentine is a masterpiece of restraint.

But what's a track by track account to you? Listen to it.

There's a couple new tracks and a couple great oldies on their MySpace page. For the rest, check emusic, or hit the Record Exchange (or your local independent record store).

Austin

So, Austin.

Every time I do this I swear I won't again, but here I've done it again. When I wait til the glow's off the visit, I find that the more astute and profound observations elude me. I had a great time in Austin. It was great to hang out with Eric, as always, and Harlan too.

Rode the shit out of Rocky Hill with my man Oko, and Flat Rock kicked my butt (with a little help from Eric, Jason, and a raging PBR hangover). I rode Eric's new custom ti IF 29er as well as his new all carbon Solis road rig, and I rode his Fireman's Cruiser all around the city, s I came home hating all my bikes.

Spoon was good, though not great.

Serena Maneesh blew.

Polvo's was wonderful, both nights. I had breakfast tacos every day. I missed the barbecue entirely. Hai Ky remains one of my favorite restaurants in town. And the posole at El Sol y La Luna was as wonderful and comforting as I remember.

It was sad to leave. I wish Eric lived here in Boise. Sometimes I wish we lived there in Austin. Harlan bought a new house I can't wait to see. Saw Harold and Sandra, missed Raoul.

No more than a tally, really, but then I guess I should be happy that it's not awful to come back here to Boise. Fall weather's hit in all its glory, and the mountain biking is fantastic right now. This coming weekend is Cathy and I's 5th Anniversary, and though we can't do a big out of town trip, I've got some plans in store.

It's good to be here.

Austin Good

Brain and body hurt.

More later.

Weekend in ATX

This weekend I'm flying down to Austin for a few days. No big event, no holiday or music festival or anything, just a weekend visit.

Spoon is playing at Emo's, and there are enough other shows over the course of these 4 days to fill a year's calendar here in Boise. So I'm really looking forward to it.

But the question remains: Must I wax nostalgic every time I go back to Austin for a visit?

There must be a reason I do this. There's the history I have there, sure, but it's more than that. Austin the city seems rooted to cultural traditions, histories, characters, styles, and legends more so than many other places I've been--bigger places and smaller places alike.

That, in a sense, is what I miss here. And it's not just my own lack of history here, it's the lack of a sense of something larger. We're all traveling in our own temporary sports-fueled bubbles, unconnected to anything larger than ourselves or our activities. It seems thin and temporary.

I must remember: These are rose-colored glasses I'm wearing, looking at the present through this idealized vision of the past. I moved for reasons. I'm not still there. Thing is, for the life of me, those reasons don't seem so significant right now.

Snowden

Snowden kicked the Neurolux's ass on Friday night.

We showed up a bit late, around 10pm. That's only late because on weekends rock shows there go from 8 to 11, with the DJ set after. Seems sort of stupid, but really it works out pretty well. And sometimes the DJ is actually pretty good.

Anyway, we got there, and the joint was damn near empty. A few folks at scattered tables, a few more out front, and a couple more at the bar. I figured we missed the show for sure, but the doorman said they hadn't started yet. No opener.

It seemed weird that there were even a few people playing ping pong right in front of the stage. "Maybe that's the band," I said to Cathy. And it was.

Snowden finally took the stage just after 10, and I was once again embarrassed for Boise. Cool new band, great new album, and an honest-to-god Friday night booking, and this is the best we could muster? Pathetic.

Snowden rocked. From note one, they were big sounding and hard working. The lead singer was all intensity, and the bass girl was just perpetual rock motion. And hot as hell, too.

Over the course of their 45-minute-or-so set, they brought the kids in off the street and made everyone in that bar pay attention and then some. It went from me and about 6 others getting into it to a full stagefront area and a decent crowd yelling loudly for more. The band was as surprised as I was pleased, and by the end my shame turned to a hint of pride. If Boise didn't know ahead of time that they should see this show, at least, by the end, they knew they'd watch for the band next time around.

TVOTR Return to Cookie Mountain

With their second full-length release, TV On the Radio have put themselves into a small class: They've met and surpassed extremely high expectations. And this even after a label change.

Their new one, Return to Cookie Mountain, is just amazing. The essentials are still there: fantastic beats lay under intricate guitar and electronic sound collages all of which serve and enhance the vocal interplay, which itself grows more complex but natural with each outing.

But there's more.

There's an urgency to the music that is not simply loudness or politics or overstatement. It's in the fundamentals of the compositions themselves, in the interplay between lyrics and sounds, all driven home by the beats. Always the beats.

This record leaves no doubt that this band is most definitely due the hype they get. They're doing something special, creating a kind of music that speaks to rock and dance but exists as something all its own.

Get it.

Hells Yeah

Mr. Tom Danielson comes up good at the Vuelta.

He went in with big expectations, and had some trouble in the opening weeks. The early mountain stages didn't go as well as they'd hoped, and youngster Brajkovic looked like the strongest on the team. And Triki Beltran's been doing a hell of a job as well.

But Danielson has ridden himself into form, it appears, and he took a big mountain stage win ahead of Vino. No small shakes, that.

Things are looking up for Disco Boys, 2007.

(photo from VeloNews)

5 Years Later

It still grabs at you, infuriates, saddens.

Politics aside, are we safer? Better off?

We have much more work to do.

The West is Burning

There are 25 fires burning in Idaho right now.

25.














Here in Boise, it's like winter's hit early. It's not cold, but an inversion has trapped fire smoke in the valley, and we live under and in a cloud of it. Outside, it smells like campfire all day.

The Rattlesnake fire is perhaps the closest, burning in the Payette up near Garden Valley and Crouch. It's still some miles from inhabitants and not posing immediate danger, but it sure is smoky.

The heroes of summer are out there knocking themselves out to squash these blazes. The rest of us stay in town and bitch about our throats hurting when we ride our bikes.

What we need is a big nasty downpour, Texas-style.

Orchard Gulch

It's been a nice quiet Labor Day weekend here in Boise.

Left to my own devices due to an unplanned family gathering in DesMoines, I spent the weekend prowling the roads and trails and waterways in and near our town. No big road trip to Wyoming or Coloradio this, but it turns out nice nonetheless.

I got the long road climb in, I got a long dog run in, and I got an afternoon's worth of fishing in, so the only thing left was to hit the trails.

This morning I headed up Rocky Canyon Road for my new favorite 2-hour loop. Up to a mile from the summit and break off at Trail 7, Orchard Gulch. This is newly connected to the new path up 5-Mile Gulch, and it's a really nice ride. A steady climb leads to a few tough pulls before more false flat meandering along the contour, and then you're connected to 5-mile.

The top of this descent (or the middle, excluding the way up to the Ridge Road) is fairly steep and narrow, a blast in good shape and a nerve-wracker in bad. Today it was powdery; I went slowly.

When you hit the old trail, down in the true gulch, the going gets fast. A gentler grade and a solid skinny trail, this thing just invites speed and air.

Out to the road and down a short ways to the 3 Bears entrance. Then up and ouch. That climb after the descent always waked the thighs up quick, and the middle bear always gets me worst. But I stayed upright and clipped in and grunted and squatted my way to the top.

The view from the top of 3 Bears is always worth it.

Even when the air you're descending into is smog-filled. Fires ringing Boise have kept our air thick. I'm wheezy.

Another half hour downward bomb and it's back to the homestead.

Best One Yet

Excuse me for a moment while I brag about our garden.

The pics don't do it justice, but you'll get the idea. This is by far the best garden we've had since moving to Boise. The raspberry crop was staggering, and the strawberries gave us the best yield yet. Now we just have to figure out a way to keep the damned roly-polys out of them. (Who knew those cute little buggers could be so terrible?)

We had fresh greens for months, through two early crops.

The herbs grew like weeds, and we've still got more basil than we know what to do with.



And now, for the prime gardening time: Chiles and tomatoes and tomatillos. I picked 5 of the biggest, most fragrant and tasty poblano peppers off a single plant the other day. I made some enchiladas with poblanos and mushrooms and cotija cheese, topped with a pureed poblano and tomatillo salsa, and it was out of this world. The flavor those things kick out is amazing.

The jalapenos are coming along, as are the serranos, though more slowly.

We're getting the initial trickle of tomatoes, and we expect to be drowning in them soon.

And maybe most exciting of all, our 3 tomatillo plants are absolutely covered with the little paper lanterns that turn into fruit. I'd say inside a week we'll be pulling about a half pound a day off the plants. And they're GOOD.

A Lazarus Taxon

The new box set from Chicago post-rock killers Tortoise does what I've not been able to do on my own: It collects all the singles and rarities and remixes that have scattered like pearls off a broken string through the path of their career.

Some of this band's best stuff has come out on imports or limited pressings, and a few pieces of the puzzle have become near impossible to come by.

Lucky for us, then, that they've done the work and delivered the goods in a gorgeous and shockingly affordable package. For less than $20, you get 3 CDs full of music plus a DVD of videos and live performances.

Better yet, order it from e-music.

While I haven't got to the DVD yet, I can say that the music is as fantastic as I knew it'd be. I mean, there's nothing terribly new here, but what is here reaches back a ways into the 90s and yet is as forward-thinking and remarkably played as anything else out there.

Gamera is a classic Tortoise track, going from minimal meditation to surging, gliding instrumental anthem, grand and beautiful.

Mike Watt adds a loose and jangly bass line to Cornpone Brunch on the final CD, for a moment if not of musical genius than of pure fun and joy.

Nobukazu Takemura's take on TNT is another highlight of the set, as are Tin Cans (Puerto Rican remix) and Your New Rod. But picking highlights is tough business here, as the pieces are so disparate, the sounds so unique and varied, that by the time you hit the remix heavy 3rd CD it's like the world's exploded.

Of course, if you're already familiar with their work, none of this will be too shocking to you. If that's the case, don't hesitate to grab this set. There's enough great stuff on here to satisfy you even if you have all the studio releases. And that's rare.

US Open Cup

It's awfully easy to not know this, but there's a very cool little tournament going on right here in the States called the US Open Cup. And as of last night, the field is down to 4 teams. One to survive is the Chicago Fire, a great team with a rabid fanbase who will meet up with DC United in the semifinals. The other matchup is the LA Galaxy and the Houston Dynamo.

If this interests you, check out this blog, Eleven Devils, a great site my buddy Dan Oko connected me to. Great information, solid editorializing.

The Fire match is on 9/6, and were I there in the windy city, I'd be going. Unfortunately my only option is to watch it online, which I will likely do.

I'm Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass

While I'm getting googly-eyed about new music that's not out yet, let me also mention Yo La Tengo's upcoming release. It's called I'm Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass, and early reports are promising--the perfect balance of their more recent soft balladry and their former long-form guitar freakouts with the middle range of perfect pop songs holding it all together.

If these reports are accurate and not just the work of some hysterical fanboys like myself, this could be the release of the year.

I've pre-ordered, and I'm supposed to be getting some super secret access to a player that streams the record, but I can't get the goddam thing to work and it's really pissing me off. So I might, actually, beat your ass.

Box Tortoise

Tortoise has released a box set. It's called A Lazarus Taxon, and really I can't think of many things more exciting than this. Remixes and singles and all the hard to find shit is here.

It comes out tomorrow. I pre-ordered weeks ago.

It's like Christmas in August.

Photoblog

Oh yeah, I bought a cool little digital camera. It's the Panasonic® Lumix® DMC-FX7 5MP. Very nice camera, about the size of a cassette tape case. So I'll be able to post more pics. Like this one, of Henry in his new favorite spot.



King of all he surveys.

Summer Creeps

And just like that, it's the middle of August. Since I've been so remiss in keeping this thing current, I'll take this opportunity to file an all-purpose update.

First, and most importantly, our man Tony has successfully come through what we are certain will be the final installment of his Brain Surgery Odyssey. It's been a long road and, much like the hero of this namesake adventure, he's come through it alive, strong, and a bit wiser, though not at all unscathed. It's obvious that his spirits are up, and that he's chomping at the bit to get back to active life, and I think that attitude will go a long way. I predict a remarkable recovery and metamorphosis from surgical patient Tony to bike-riding music-loving complete-cranium Tony.

As for the BCRP, the show version of Range Life is moving along quite nicely. I've not had a chance to set up my playlist blog yet, but I hope to get to that this weekend and get it up and running soon. Meantime, keep your ears on the webcast, as I'm putting new stuff in every single week. Recent arrivals include Erase Errata, Sonic Youth, some old Four Tet and Underworld I've just discovered, and some Austin goodies like Octopus Project and Voxtrot. Coming soon, and I'm so excited I may crap 'em, the new Tortoise box set, and the new release from Yo La Tengo. Wa-hoo.

The bikes are getting some miles put on them, but not as many as I'd hoped by this point in the year. Part of that is just because work and life have kept me from it, but part of it is my recent foray into flyfishing. A wonderful sport that I fully intend to pursue for the rest of my life. I'll get up to Stack Rock this weekend, and am planning a trip for Labor Day, so this will improve. Plus, I'm committed to doing the Leadville Trail 100 race, or the weeklong Crested Butte trip with brother Eric, or both, next year. So training will start in November.

What else?

The house is good, the garden exploding, and we're enjoying the fact that it's not above 100F here every day any more.

We're still distraught about Floyd, though not yet ready to pronounce him guilty.

I've yet to float the Main Payette this year, but I've spent good hours on the SF Boise, along with the MF Boise and the Snake. Nothing big, but to be honest that's ok with me. Last year's SF Boise debacle left more a mental scar on me than I'd suspected, so slow re-entry is appropriate.

The dogs are doing well.

Things are good.

Thanks for checking in. I'll bring this baby back to life very soon.

No News Is Proper News

Unlike every other shmohawk with a keyboard and a connection, I'm not revealing or discussing ongoing allegations into possible use of preformance enhancing substances until something is confirmed.

I can think of a few organizations who would do well to follow my lead.

The Return of the Floyd

Amazing. Just unbelieveable. There is no other way to describe what Floyd Landis did in the 17th stage of the Tour de France, coming back from what certainly looked like death to shatter the field and gain back most of an 8+ minute deficit.

He went from broken and done to the likely victor in Paris.

Amazing.

Metal So Hard

Rock fans, rejoice. The Sword is coming to Idaho.

I admit to a musical past filled with vicious guitar licks, at least one major time change per track, and images of Nordic mythology. I thought it was all behind me. The Sword, a band from Austin, TX, has thankfully proven me quite wrong. The metal resurgence in the last few years has not entirely missed me, but it took Age of Winters, this band's debut record, to make it mean anything.

Check out this short piece on them from The Austin Chronicle. Or their MySpace page, with music.

Sunday, July 16th, The Sword will play at the Bouquet here in Boise, ID. I'm not sure how they landed this show, but good-goddam for them, and for us. If you've got any traces of love for hard hard music left in your soul, don't miss this. "Metal so hard that it holds a razor sharpness even after repeated use in battle," indeed.

Butt Head

What an ending. Strange and disconcerting. Unfortunate, to say the least.

Zizou left the championship match under a cloud of confusion, anger, and sadness. We still don't know what Materazzi did or said to provoke the likely Man of the Match (and eventual and odd winner of the Golden Ball award) to drive his head into the Italian's chest, knocking him off his feet and to the turf. But it must have been something terrible.

Regarldess, the Cup has come to an end, with the Italians the victors. That in itself is enough to make this a sad ending, but to see Zidane go off the field as he did, not able to return for the medals, not able to wave goodbye to his legions of fans, is a crying shame. It was stupid for him to do what he did. Hopefully we'll find out what Materazzi said, because my hunch is that he acted shamefully. But still. Zidane should have risen above it and ended his career with the nobility it deserved.

Hey, isn't there a bike race going on?

Montany

It's tough to describe how wonderful our 4th of July weekend was. We spent it in the mountains around Livingston, Montana, at the cabin of John Works, boyfriend of our Austin friend Kimberly. The entire weekend--the fishing, the eating, the drinking, the boating, the hours of sitting and reading and staring at a view up the valley that warranted charging by the hour--was beyond any of our wildest expectations.

It was great to see Kimberly and John and to be able to hang out with them in such a relaxing, striking setting. We were up in the area of the West Boulder River, or one of the West Boulder forks or drainages, in the Absaroka Mountains just north of Yellowstone. We spent our days on or by or in the river, whether the West Boulder across the road from the cabin, or the same waterway further down where it widened out and rushed white over the rocks, or way further up, above a beautiful meadow and a set of waterfalls, in a stretch of pools that seem out of a fisherman's dream.

And we fished, too. I can see why people get into this flyfishing thing. I was lucky enough for my first experience to be in this setting with a guide and tutor as capable as John. He was insanely patient, giving up the good spots to both Kimberly and I, walking the banks and the water with me to point out the good spots, to teach me to read the water and to know where the fish tend to be, to know how to work my way through a stretch of water to catch fish.



The movements of casting, the silent flow of it all, combined with spending the day hip deep in a gorgeous river focusing insistently on the water and this looping line proved too much for my defenses. I fear I have yet another addiction. Time will tell, but John has seeded the cloud, as it were, handing over a gorgeous deep green fly rod, handmade in Fort Worth, TX, along with a very nice reel and a silver metal rod case. A business proposition, he called it, giving me the gear in exchange for my showing him the good spots when he comes to Idaho.



There was no refusing. A magnificent gesture.

So, besides the fishing and the hiking to fish and the constant play of the dogs in the water and the fields and the great meals full of wine and talk and relaxing...


...we attended a 4th of July picnic among other residents of the valley that made it truly feel like the 4th. I had a hot dog and a hamburger, plenty of beer, and then sat and listened to a couple of the folks pick out traditional tunes on guitars and sing. We joined in when we could. It was so America, so nice an experience.



All in all a wonderful trip. Relaxing and energizing. Sad to leave, excited to fish. On with the summer!

4th of July Weekend in Montana

This holiday weekend, Cathy and I are headed to Montana. We'll be staying with our friends Kimberly and John, the latter of whom has a cabin outside of Livingston. Livingston is a small town on the edge of the Absaroka range, on the northern border of Yellowstone NP.

We're excited for many reasons.

Obviously, it's beautiful there. They're situated right on the Yellowstone River, and both are avid fly fishermen. Fisherpersons. So this weekend I get to learn to flyfish in one of the most beautiful flyfishing settings this country affords.

Lucky as hell.

We'll also do some floating and paddling of the river in raft and ducky. The dogs get to come along, so we'll see if they're river worthy or not. (Likely not.)

La Copa

Also, as the quarterfinals and semifinals of the World Cup take place while we're en route, we've planned well. We'll get to follow the Germany/Argentina in the morning, and we're not sure if we'll stay here in town long enough to catch Italy/Ukraine. Probably. We've got a 9+ hour drive ahead of us, but we've decided to stop for Friday night in Bozeman. That way, we can catch England/Portugal in the morning on hotel ESPN before we take off for the final leg into Livingston. There's a small chance we can coerce our hosts into town for that afternoon's Brazil/France matchup, but that remains to be seen. So, we'll get there a little late, but it'll be worth it.

Done and Gone

We out.

There's lots of chatter and criticism about the US performance in the World Cup, some of it justified, some of it not. Everyone's an expert, as a quick perusal of the 'Fan Chat' function of the FIFA website will tell you. But, as ever, the chatter don't mean squat.

At times, the US side played well. At times, dismally. At the bottom of it all, we had a solid team, a mostly solid coach, and a pretty questionable strategy. In the end, it was this overall solidity, or adequateness, if you like, that did it. Solid is good, but without something extra tacked on (see MJ and any Bulls team he played on, or the Ghana side in their match against the Czechs in this tournament), solid doesn't get you far against the best in the world.

The team that wins La Copa will not only have this solidity, they will have greatness as well. The US lacks greatness, so it makes sense that we are going home when we are.

Really, the unfortunate thing for my own experience of this World Cup is the change in the way Ghana played. They seem to have adapted to the Euro tactics all too well, as evidenced by the number of casualties littering the pitch at any point in the second half yesterday. Dudes were flopping so often and for so long that I'd bet even the Italian squad would have been a bit perturbed at it. You'd have thought the US were playing with brass knuckles and spikey shoes. It was ridiculous, and an aspect of this team that hadn't yet reared its ugly head.

At the start of the match, I had it in my head that if we lost, Ghana would be my team, the one I'd hope to cheer through the championship. So much for that.

Though the US-Ghana match leaves many question marks, as the penalty Ghana scored the go-ahead on was most definitely not a penalty, none of them would have likely changed anything going forward for the US. We needed more than just a single goal, as a win was all to keep us alive. And frankly, penalty or not, I don't think we had them in us.

What this match does change is the perception of the Ghana side. They are not beyond the European ritual of histrionic displays of false agony. They do it, and they do it well, and that's most unfortunate. Welcome to the world stage.

So, what? C'mon Brazil? Let's go Argentina? Where's the fun in that?

Perhaps Portugal, though the whispers of primadonnatude are worrisome.

I guess I'll have to hold my allegiance until further notice and until then just hope for quality matches. And whoever foregoes the flops will get my vote.

Still Alive

Bloodied and exhausted, the US team put on a stellar performance to tie Italy and keep hope of advancing alive. The odds are against us, but then, in soccer, aren't they always?

As if playing the Azzuri weren't enough to handle, the US men had to fend off a card-happy fleet of officials in Saturday's match. Shortly after half, the US found themselves playing Italy 9 against 10, a sure mismatch.

But they rose to the occasion. McBride returned from a disgustingly flagrant elbow to the face by Italian shithead DeRossi to play a strong second half. Grit, plain and simple, kept us in this game.

This was a US team that did not show up to play the Czechs last week. They passed beautifully, they were aggressive, and they took no shit. The Italians didn't know what to do, as evinced by their inability to put the game away.

Keeper Keller had a big day too, stopping a couple very tough shots as time wound down. He showed us why he's one of the best in the world.

Thursday we've got Ghana, which to my mind could be tougher than either match we've yet played. If we win and Italy loses, we're in. A couple other scenarios can keep us alive as well.

GO USA.

In the Spirit, but Stomped

It's a coincidence that the World Cup has come at the exact same time as my foray back into the world of soccer, but it sure does make it more enjoyable.

Last night I played in my first matches since a short-lived intramural stint at EIU back in 1990. Needless to say, the body feels it. My knees, my ankles, my right hip, and every single tiny bone in both my feet ache. And it's wonderful.

I grew up playing this game, from when I was about 5 until I graduated from high school. I loved it, and then I just stopped playing and paying attention. Now, of course, I wish I'd have stuck with it.

But better late than never. So, I'm back to it. I'm playing with a team made up largely of co-workers, but we've recruited some friends to play with us as well. We're not so good, but just by the end of the second match yesterday (yes, I returned from about 15 years off to start with a double header!) we were definitely doing better. If only we could practice.

So, yesterday we lost both matches. But really, we did fairly well. We were starting to pass more, to maintain possession, and to put shots on goal. Our lack of subs hurts us, but hopefully the ranks will swell.

More to come on this for sure.

US Side Gets Gut-Czech

Czech Republic: 3
USA: 0

Well, we knew this would be a tough match, but who knew we just wouldn't show up? There were no bright spots that I could see, nothing to take to the Italy matchup this weekend. Except for this: We've burned our loss, now we need a tie and a win to stay alive. Play well or go home from here on out.

Levi Takes Dauphine!

Our man Levi Leipheimer has taken the Dauphine-Libere race! This is a week-long stage race in France that is a traditional lead-up to the Tour de France. It's a proving ground, a testing race that tells riders how their form is going into the Tour. Levi's form seems to indicate he's right on.

He performed well in the time trials and tore everyone's legs off in the mountains--everyone except for Iban Mayo, that is, who got a win of his own to signal a possible return to form for the Basque.

Leipheimer, who hails from Montana, has been working his ass off for this year's tour and I'm hopeful that he's got himself into position for good things there.

WORLD CUP

The US team has its first match today, against 2nd seeded Czech Republic. Should be a great start.

We'll be watching at Parill Grill, 10am to noon on Monday.

Trail Work

Saturday was the first day of trail work for the year. National Trails Day. The good news is I put the IF on the Stack Rock trail system for the first time. Man it felt good to get up there--pine tree canopy, skinny trail littered with the refuse of the winter, flowers pushing through the floor to grab at the sun. It was beautiful as I'd expected it to be, and it felt great to be up there.

The bad news is that the actual trail work felt like a total waste. Not total--me and Will and Leo Hennessey did some good work on water diversion on a nice fast downhill that was seeing some serious erosion. And we cleared some brush that needed clearing.

But then we started in on Chris Cook's projects. We rerouted a trail that did not need rerouting. And we built a new trail that, while fun for about a dozen people who will ride it, is nothing but a circus attraction when it comes down to it. A big long stunt trail with nasty rock drops and a long long log ride. Cool stuff, nice freeride options, and a total waste of the time and energy of the people who showed up for legitimate trail work. I feel we were taken advantage of.

When I left this work site, at long last, and went for a ride on trail we hadn't visited, I found loads of logs down and blocking the trial, rerouting traffic around them and damaging the trail. I found lots of brush that was getting so overgrown it was rerouting traffic and damaging the trail. Banks along Sinker Creek were caving in under the weight of down trees, trail junctions and turnoffs were nearly invisible due to overgrowth and down trees, and there was just a lot of cleaning up to do.

With the manpower we had up there, we could have done all the little stuff and a good deal of the big stuff. But, instead, we cleared the first mile or so and spent the rest of the day dicking around on freeride bullshit. This is a good example of why Cook's tenure as SWIMBA president has to end. He works hard and means well, but his efforts are almost totally misguided and, in the end, counterproductive. Hopefully this month's elections will get this organization back on track.

Meantime, at least Stack Rock season has begun again.

Summer Already

It's in the 90s here in Boise, and it's been that way all week. This weekend will dip back toward normal and into the 80s, which will be much better. All this means that summer has hit our doorsteps with all the force of the Sunday Times.

It's good. Winter has ended with a bang. Last weekend I spent all day Saturday riding the IF in the Danskin Mountains, a tough and vertical trail system mainly used by dirt bikes and ATVs. It was fun and challenging and just damned hard. When 4.5 hours on the trail yield you about 18 miles of terrain covered you know it's either tough going or you're taking too many breaks. We did both, but mostly it was tough going.

On Sunday the wife and I floated the Snake River through the Birds of Prey area. The water was moving at a good clip, though about 3000cfs less than the previous evening. Still, the whole 10-miler took us about 2.5 hours. Saw a mess of falcons along with a handful of hawks and a load of turkey vultures and a good number of waterfowl. Very sunny and hot but the up-river breeze kept us pretty cool.

Change in seasons usually means a change in hours and habits for me, and unfortunately the blogging has suffered. I'm re-engaging once again, though, and will be more regular with this. Again.

Happy Spring.

Round 3

And just when you think you're out of the woods, that the dark and gloomy canopy crowding out the sun of total recovery is behind you, there it is--another goddam forest.

Tony Pozeck is currently at St. Alphonsus hospital here in Boise getting prepped for what will be his third surgical procedure. Over the last week and a half he's been dealing with swelling in his head that his docs attributed to accumulation of cerebral spinal fluid. The solution? Wrap it tighter and keep at least a 30 degree angle at all times. When these conservative measures didn't help, he went back to the hospital and they determined he had an infection.

Infection at a surgical site is never anything to be scoffed at. Infection at a surgical site following brain surgery--nevermind multiple brain surgeries--is worrisome. We're worried. Tony's strong like bull, but now he's contending with some nasty invasive shit, and he'll need all the help and discipline he can get to sail through this one.

Tony's at St. Al's in Boise, room 660. If you read this, give a call and see how he is. Or send flowers. Or a postcard. He's been a trooper and a rock so far. We saw him last night and he had a few visitors, so his spirits were up, though it was not difficult to tell that this shit is starting to get to him.

Here's to a successful surgery and a quick and FULL recovery. It's time.

Weird Music

This weekend marks the first annual Boise Experimental Music Festival. It's being put on mostly by local mad scientist Krispen Hartung, and RadioBoise is one of the sponsors.

The lineup is pretty interesting, and though I don't know jack about most of them, I'm looking forward to finding out. Hell, just the fact that something like this is going on here in so-NOT-experimental Boise, ID, has me pretty damned excited.

One performance of note will be Art Hodge. Art's a guy I've met through the radio project. He played a big part in helping the webcast get up and running and in helping some of us figure out the finer points of the technology side of webcasting. He gave me a tutorial on ProTools, too. He's got a show called Break Me Off Some, all breakbeats, and also, he's one of the four rotating hosts of the JazzJoint show that I put together for RadioBoise (which runs Wednesdays from 11 to 1, mountain time). I knew the dude knew music, but I had no idea how deeply. Check out his site: http://www.arthodge.com/ His creds are pretty amazing. He produced fucking Santana and got a grammy for it? And he lives in Boise?! Weird. I'm looking forward to what he puts together for the stage.

We'll be webcasting the whole thing, so check it out here. Tonight, Friday 4/28, 7 to 10p MT, and Saturday 4/29, noon to 10 MT.

HORNER!!!

This one's got to be soooo sweet.



In year 2 of his return trip to European road racing, Chris Horner of Bend, OR, has come up with a big one. He won stage 2 of the Tour de Romandie, and I can't think of anyone who deserves it more or who I'd rather have seen win. He gets the V, he gets the yellow jersey. Beautiful.

Back to Spring

The Yellowstone bike trip is now in the history books, and that, along with the sunny blue skies and blustery winds that have settled onto Boise, means that it is indeed springtime. Sure, there was frost all over the city this morning, and the ride in this morning was colder than it's been in weeks, but still. It's spring, and you can't tell me any different.

Riding in Yellowstone was fantastic as ever. Little chilly, little rain, little snow, little sunshine, and lots and lots of buffalo. On day 1 we made it to the Norris Geyser overlook, about a 60-miler round trip with backtracking. Great ride. Our man AP was able to ride about a half hour in and back, which, coming off what he's come off of, is no mean feat. Nice to see him on the bike again--and it'll be even nicer having him ride along for the long haul. (So start logging them miles, boyo.)

Sunday, which was meant to be ski day, was ride day #2. Too warm and too much rain for skiing. So, we made it a bit shorter and faster of a deal, and I made it out to the 2nd junction before turning around and beating it back for the gate. Nice to spring off on my own, iPod engaged, and really open it up. Felt great. On the way back in Tim and I heard an eagle's screeching, over and over, but couldn't see it--until it flew directly overhead and then perched in a tree about 30 meters away from us. Amazing.

Oh, and we heard wolves, too. First day out, within a mile of the park gate, rolling slowly, we heard a good half-dozen of them howling and howling. First time I've ever heard this, and what a sound it is. Unmistakable, and unforgettable.

So, today I've got the mountain bike at work. Out the window the sun is shining, and the flags are fluttering in the spring breeze. It'll be 50s today, and 70 by Friday. No rain in sight.

Yep, it's springtime. Welcome back.

Jellystone

Well, it's that time again. The annual cycling trip to Yellowstone starts this afternoon. This means spring is truly on the way.

The weather's looking like it did last year--chilly, windy, and some chance of rain or snow. But the roads are clear, the room is booked, the beer is chilling, and my butt is ready for some long miles on the Pinarello.

Let's hope the bison are feeling agreeable.

So exciting.

Tapes n Tapes

I know, me and everybody else, right? Or maybe not.

I caught this band down in Austin during the big SXSW, and they hit and sped right on past my high expectations. Why high? First time I heard them, echoes of Pavement, probably my fave band in the whole wide world okay, bounced throughout my head. That doesn't happen.

This is no Pavement ripoff. That would blow. This is a new band, a young and hungry band from Minneapolis-eh, making killer indie rock with its own voice, separate from the shiteload of Britpop stuff and retro rocking knockoffs cramming up the Bitchfork archives. If you have yet to hear this record, please do. Or first, go to the official website and have a listen. There are 3 tracks available, and if any one of them doesn't sell you, forget it. You're dead. Or deaf. Or, I guess, maybe you just don't like this band. Which would be weird.

Anyway. Diggity.

Via Chicago

I'm in Boise airport waiting to catch a plane to Denver, where I'll get on another plane to go to Chicago. Greg Lilley is getting married up in Wilmette this weekend, and I'm headed back for a long weekend. I'm really looking forward to this, as I expect to see a lot of people I haven't seen in years and years.

On the drive here this morning Cathy asked when the last time I'd been back in Chicago, and I was shocked to realize it was for Tony Kernagis' wedding, probably about 5 years ago now. Or maybe 6. Either way, it's been a while, and it's about time to get back there again.

Mostly I blame my parents. I mean, if they hadn't left there and moved to Alabama, I'd still go to Chicago to visit them and therefore everyone else--high school friends, college friends, family and family friends, everyone. Since they're not there any more, I just don't make it back often enough.

Anyway, here I go. Barry'll be picking me up, and I'll be staying with him most of not all of the time. Saturday night after the wedding I'll be staying in the hotel near the reception, and tomorrow night I may end up crashing at Macri's, as Shields and Mack are coming out to Oak Park for the evening. This oughtta be a highlight of the weekend, as I haven't seen or hung with these f'ers since my wedding. Friends from like 3rd grade and kindergarten, respectively. Craziness.

The food list is short but hefty: Italian beef sandwich, pizza, gyros, pizza, and pizza. I brought running clothes and shoes so I don't totally undo everything I've been able to do over the winter.

So, this time I'm bringing the laptp with me. We'll see if I regret it or not. I doubt it.

SXSW Saturday

Now that it's been a week and then some, Saturday is faded in my mind. Not surprising--it kinda sucked. I'm having trouble thinking of anything specific that I saw, day or night.

The day shows got good once we hit Mother Egan's. Eric was hip to see Silversun Pickups, and we got there just in time. A trio from Cali, they put on a good show, some great songs nearly overshadowed by the lead singer's overexuberant feeling of the love. They were followed by a band I vaguely remember, not too bad but nothing to stick.

Then, Prescott Curlywolf. So glad we made it. They hit it hard and rocked out for their whole half hour, one after the other, no breaks, tight as ever. Baldachino, Mariposa, pow pow pow. It was so good to see them it redeemed the rest of the day.

Not so for the night, though. It's a bit of a blur at this point, but we were shut out of a few shows before finally perusing a handful of midgrade rock bands. The Pink Swords, from Austin, looked like they were having a ball, drunk as hell and thrashing about, bringing the punk rock straight and dirty. We also saw a two-piece called something something, I don't remember, but they've got a new record coming out on Self-Starter, maybe, or Merge. I don't remember. Memorable.

We bolted there and made our way to The Cribs at Club de Ville, and they were good. Too bad we didn't get there earlier--we made it just in time for the last song and a half and a nice rainshower.

We rode home through wet streets, mellow and tired and a bit sad at it all being pretty much over with. Anticlimactic, sort of a letdown, but after the whirlwind of the first two and a half days, a bit of a letdown isn't such a big deal.

I don't know if I'll go back. It was great fun, but losing over 5 days of vacation time is a big deal to me, and I think there are other ways I'd rather spend it. Besides, going to Austin when this isn't going on lets me do a lot more that I want to do.

But then, I've said that before.

Our Man AP

There is good news out of Boise, ID.

Our man Tony Pozeck, who just two weeks ago went through his second brain surgery of the year, is well on his way to a full recovery. He's through the immediate post-surg tough time, has dealt with some severe swelling and the mental and motor repercussions of that, and is steadily improving day by day.

Of course, with something like this (I mean like having your head opened TWICE and having a schwannoma removed from next to a cranial nerve and a dermoid tumor pulled from under brain tissue), you have to continue to be careful and vigilant and CAREFUL, but it seems he is headed down the right path.

Just this morning I got an e-mail from him, articulate as ever, expressing interest in joining me, Tim, and John on our annual spring trek to Yellowstone for some road riding in the park before the cars are allowed. We've done it every year for the past 3 years, and it's a rite of spring that we all look forward to. It's a long drive, and he won't be able to ride, but he wants to go. That's a good sign.

Most importantly, when you talk to Tony, it's the exact same Tony that we knew before. It's all there--the memory, the humor, the amicable insults, all of it. To be back to himself so soon, after all this shit he's had to go through, is amazing and commendable.

I always knew the dude was tough, but this seals it. Good job AP. We'll celebrate in Yellowstone.

SXSW Friday

Friday started off so well.

We slept in, reeling from Thursday night, then got up and made breakfast of the infamous South Austin Speedball to prep ourselves for the long day ahead.

There was lots going on during the day on Friday, but we made the tough decision to forego everything else and camp out at Club deVille all day long, provided we could get in. This was the Insound party, $2 to everyone, badge or not. Very nice. The lineup was solid--it started out with Love is All, then The Boy Least Likely To, Pink Mountaintops, and Serena Maneesh. All bands on my list to see. Headlining, though, was Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, one of my top 3 for the weekend. So, we didn't think we'd get in, but we thought we'd hit the line early and see.

We got in line at 2, and we were in by 2:15 when the first band started. Sweet! And to make it sweeter, free beer and barbecue all day. Suffice to say I'll be supporting Insound, those wonderful people.

So we hung all day, staking out a primo corner with a chair and a place to rest beers. Love is All rocked, they were fantastic, powerful indie pop from Norway, I think. The Boy... was also a good show, very very happy and bouncy, the perfect thing for a 3pm beer buzz. Pink Mountaintops sounded great, a bunch of Canadians with a feel-good jam-out rock vibe, sort of like Broken Social Scene numbed down to Califone tones. Serena Maneesh rocked, also Scandinavian I think, just busting out tune after tune of hard moving indie rock.

Then came CYHSY. They came out and broke right into Heavy Metal, a great opener, and when the singer opened his mouth to sing, the squawk was even more pronounced than usual. It was painful just to watch him try to sing--apparently he had totally fried his voice and could only hit a certain slim range without going blank. Nevertheless, he kept at it like a trooper, the band pounding away behind him, working through a set as fun and wonderful as I could have expected. Great show. And a wise move.

Unfortunately, that's where the Friday fun ends.

We got out late, missed the 9:00 we wanted to see, then I for some reason abandoned my plans and decided to go to Stubb's and see the Subways. The line was a mile long. So we tried the Flamingo for Afrirampo--again shut down. Elysium for The Boy..., same thing.

My night was supposed to end at Animal Collective, but it was looking like everything was too packed, plus it was St. Patrick's Day and the idiot contingent was just too much to bear. So, rather than walk around all night, I thought I'd hang at Stubb's for the middling but interesting lineup of Metric, The Magic Numbers, and Snow Patrol. Seems solid, right?

Wrong.

We never made it in for Metric, as we watched the badge line swell and recede and we never moved. We made it in for The Magic Numbers, who bored me to lifelessness. No doubt my frame of mind influenced this, but still: boring, derivative, sappy crap. Hated it. Snow Patrol? Sucked. Arena rock garbage packaged as sensitive boy indie rock. Just an awful presentation of mediocre material, made all the worse by a total lack of effects or enhancements, which is what makes their records interesting.

So, great day, crap night. Saturday would make up for it, surely.

SXSW Thursday Night

The night began with a very bad decision. It was either chase a rumor and get in line at 6 to try to see a Beastie Boys show at 7, or get down to Auditorium Shores for VIP seating and free drinks for Spoon. We chose the latter, largely because it meant we could eat at Green Mesquite. Bad choice. Not the barbecue, but the rest of it. We couldn't get backstage, couldn't see well and missed a big chunk of it wandering around trying to find the person who would get us in to the big hookup. Oh well. We stood around with the families amid the blankets and day glo necklaces for a while and then made our way back to the bikes to roll downtown.

A quick trip across the bridge brought us to Jazz, or Parish II as it's called this week, where we had some time to kill before Detachment Kit. We went up and watched Jon Vanderslice for a little bit, then went back downstairs. As they came onstage, Eric turns to me and says, "Hold on to your ass." Glad he warned me. Them boys just laid it all out there, thrashing their way through a fierce set of Chicago rawk, intense and loud and relentless. Great great show.

We walked across the street to Buffalo Billiards for Earlimart, which was ok but sort of boring. Didn't really stack up to Detachment Kit, nor to the rest of the night. Rock was becoming the theme. Follow the rock.

The Fiery Furnaces brought it, transforming loads of songs off Blueberry Boat from orchestrated art rock to straight up rock rock, done four piece style with the focus on heavy guitars. Great set, not at all what I was expecting, but perhaps they've got sick of the freaky flitty stuff and want to get back to it. They did, Eleanor all in white and looking like a young and hungry Patty Smith.

After that we went to Emo's IV, where we saw Vietnam, who weren't so fun. Wandery jam rock, all teeth and hair, so we went down to check the line at Eternal for CYHSY. Huge, badges only, f' that. We went back to Emo's IV to see We Are Wolves. Good decision. Inspired, really. They were fantastic, way high energy hard ass guitar drum keys and synths, all screamy and fuzzed out and tremendous drum beats. Really fun show and a great way to move the night to the next pitch. Eric dug it too.

From there we made our way to Fox and Hound to see what the deal was for Brazilian Girls. We got in, but this band called Particle were still onstage, where they stayed for what seemed days, playing their hippie jam band crapola way beyond their allotted time. They even brought Jon Popper's fat stupid ass up on stage to sponge that godawful harmonica garbage all over a watery Once In a Lifetime. It was a travesty, a crime almost, and the kids ate it up. As a wise young South Park resident might say, Stupid hippies. Finally, about 1, me and Eric broke out of that mess and made our way back to Soho for Thunderbirds Are Now! Another great decision. We're on a roll. We got there as they started and they rocked it out for an hour solid, high speed spazzy punk like there will be no tomorrow. An amazing set, alongside We Are Wolves as the best moments yet.

Riding homeward, as we approached Fox and Hound, Cathy sent Eric a text saying the Braz Girls had just started. Friggin Bingo. We parked the bikes and ran in to the tented parking lot and caught much of the set, which didn't even start until just before 2. They were outrageous and fantastic, the singer the sexiest person I have ever seen on a stage anywhere. Amazing lithe Euro hottie just playing the crowd like a cheap flamenco guitar--hard and overtly sexual. Wonderful. We all loved it. We left at 3, and they were just starting into their encore, Lazy Lover.

A nice ride home, to bed at 4, and now we're heading out to do it again. We're trying to get into the Insound party for CYHSY, but we'll see if that'll be possible. Fingers crossed.