AMBITION AND MY NEW YEAR'S CHECKLIST...

In addition to finding boxers that fit, getting a hair cut, my back waxed and fixing that damn computer, here's my checklist for 2009:

Begin eating mushrooms.
Successfully silk screen a shirt.
Influence popular opinion regarding the current donut situation in the Yellow.
Run 5 miles in succession twice a week by end of the year.
Lose 20 pounds.
Give away 400 CDs.
Successfully silk screen a painting of James Brown.
Do a blog entry each day of June--30 posts total within the month.
Submit to a calendar company, a fully developed idea for The Root Down desk calendar.
Learn to shuffle cards.
Complete six mixes within the year (to include The Gangsta Boogie, The Buhloone Mindstate Breakdown, The Tax-Exempt Federal Income Tax Mix, The Christmas Sweater Mix Vol. 2 and my lovely wife's request for a mix about women).
Wear a full-grown moustache for a week.
Become more knowledgeable in Blues and the key components and players.
Follow up on the whereabouts of Roderick and Sean.
Read a book. Serious. Just one.
Find out what happened to my 10-foot jump shot.
Pass on all fantasy sports. Most specifically Fantasy Baseball. It's not worth the time.
Begin working on family cookbook. Again.
Begin playing harmonica.
Less coffee in 2009.
Cut back soda consumption to one reasonably sized soda a month.
Make my own sauerkraut by rotting cabbage buried under the ground.
Eat the sauerkraut.
Take two one-week vacations. Possibly one to Idaho and then to the northeast catching a Sox game and visiting New York.
Become salty in discussions about 1989 hip hop.
Have a garage sale and use the proceeds to buy a ping pong table to then put in that empty garage.
Go an entire month without sugar or sweets.
Use swimming as a primary form of exercise at the gym.

LET'S JUST TALK TAXEIRA AND HIS EXTRA $1.5 MILLION A YEAR

I had a feeling it could happen, but didn't know it would happen so quickly. Yankees snatched up the Red Sox's top prospect, Mark Teixeira. Here's Brian Cashman with his new acquisition.

The Sox offer was reportedly $168 million over eight years. When Boras went public by claiming he had higher offers for his agent, the Angels bailed out, the Orioles bailed and the Sox claimed they had been outbid and were "not going to be a factor" in the signing of Teixeira. The Sox response was merely to call the bluff on the higher deal. Turns out there was a higher deal and it was from the Yankees. That higher deal was for $180 million over eight years. Now, when you're talking that kinda cash, what's $12 million more? Apparently, the world was in those $12 million and Teixeira has been exposed as a player that, one, wants to take the HOV lane to the championship and, two, money is the most important element of the game. The Yankees knew both of these to be true and customized a contract that would cater to him and assure them in signing him.

Some guy on TV just said that more people die each year from dog bites than from shark bites. That's completely insignificant. How many people have been chased down the alley by a shark? People are morons.

So here we go. After the Devil Rays clowned both the Sox and Yanks by winning the AL East with a quarter of the Yankees' payroll and with the entire world's economy in the toilet, they go out and shell out almost a half billion dollars for three free agents. And that was on top of already having the two highest players in the league on their roster already. And do you think they care that they're basically buying championships again? No way. Shameless. They could care less. And the players don't care either. I don't think the fans care. Not sure. And if you want to pin it on the Sox and they're spending, Sox finished fourth last year in spending and the Yankees spent 50% more than the Sox. Oh yeah, they missed the playoffs last year. Think that has anything to do with it?

I hope they go out and sign Manny. I hope they sign every other free agent on the market. Lock up everyone. If they win a championship, it'll be scrutinized for years. If they don't, they'll once again show themselves to be the biggest failure in the league. Cash rules everything around me. It rules Taxeira. It rules C-note Sabathia. It rules Payrod. It rules baseball.

It'll make watching them lose (even if it's only 30 times) so much sweeter and the Sox finally fall off the Most Hated team. There's still some good bats on the market. It's bats we'll need. Remaining free agents include Ken Griffey, Jr. (eh), Adam Dunn (maybe), Bobby Abreu (maybe) and others. We'll see.

And, if anyone wants to throw the Celtics into the argument for going out and acquiring KG and Ray Allen and winning a championship last year, I'd just add that the Celtics were outspent in 2008 by four other teams this year and last year. And, yes, they're off to the best start in NBA history with a 27-2 start. Domination. We got the Fakers on Christmas Day. It don't mean nothing unless you win in June. Still, it's freaking impressive.

Enough sports talk. Merry Christmas, everyone. Be safe. Love your neighbor.

BUSH GOT BULLIED

And his ability to dodge a flying shoe at point-blank range with the speed of a ninja is proof.

That's the move of a cat that's been through this before, nah mean?

What's great is when he comes up the first time, it actually appears that he's smiling like he finds it fun--like it's a game. He certainly doesn't appears SHOCKED which I would. Well, so ends this guy's term. There were some talking heads on last night shaming those who found this funny, but for a country that's endured this cat for eight long years, I don't know if you can blame the American public for finding it somewhat comical.

The year-end list is being prepared. Remember that, this year, you get the best hip hop of 1988. 1988 was a bad ass year. It was the genesis of hip hop's "Golden Age." There's some incredible records that came out that year. NWA, Public Enemy, EPMD, Geto Boys and on and on and on. All the names you know, all the records you loved. They'll all be there.

Shirts are going out to those who requested one. They'll be leaving today. Thanks for your patience.

Think I might be soon pledging my NFL loyalty to the Houston Texans. I don't have a team that I root for and I usually default to the Dallas Cowboys, but let's be real, everyone roots for the Cowboys around here and, many of them are of the white trash persuasion. Somebody's gotta go for the Houston Texans. Kool Aid reminded me that they've already been eliminated from the playoffs to which I replied, "I'm in no hurry. I can wait until next year."

Gotta get to work, folks. Stay up.

EDDIE HAZEL CRUSHES YOU (JUST GIVE UP AND WORK AT A GAS STATION)

Fell asleep last night watching the third quarter of the Celtics/Hornets game. It was about 9:00 and I was on the couch. I'm getting older faster. Why in the world do I fall asleep at 9:00 on a Friday night? Guess my day's are just longer. Not only that, but I still haven't adjusted to the time change. Yeah, before you know it, it'll be spring and I'll already be adjusted back.

Woke up at about 6 this morning so, yes, that's a hearty NINE HOURS OF SLEEP which is tremendously more than I'm used to getting. As I delve deeper into Funkadelic's music, it led me to guitarist Eddie Hazel who is the floor of Funkadelic's groove. He's the true root down in all of Funkadelic's works laying down the foundation for almost every great Funkadelic composition. He was infinitely funky and, on the above pictured Games, Dames and Guitar Thangs he hits a creative crest with covers of the Beatles' "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" (Clint, dig on this), "California Dreamin'" and the original composition "Frantic Moment." Dude just killed it. This album is such a gem and if you're iPod, Zune or cheap Walgreens MP3 player doesn't have it, everything you say is suspect. I don't believe you.

Eddie Hazel died tragically like all other stupid rock musicians: he died young of liver failure at the age of 42 back in 1992, but what he left behind is a catalog that is rivaled by no other funkateer except for George Clinton and Sly Stone.

Celtics won last night taking them to 22-2...beating by two games their best start in franchise history with a victory over the Hornets. Cleveland also won again for the 11th time in a row. They're starting to have the look of the early 90s' Bulls teams. Yes, that's comparing Lebron to Jordan. Why not? The dude's sick. We play 'em in Cleveland on January 9th. Should be a battle.

Yankees signed another big-name pitcher (snores). You know, if the Yankees win a World Championship this year, it can't feel that good. In fact, if they don't win, it's the same thing. If you win one, you paid for it and doesn't truly show accomplishment, but rather that money ain't a thing and you can afford each of the game's top players. If you don't, then you truly suck. Angry Tim suggested that the Red Sox were quickly becoming that team. With the addition of Teixeira, maybe. We'll see how much that contract takes us up to. It'll be at least 20 million, probably. Let's not forget though that while the Yankees' money was seeing diminishing returns, it was Pedroia, Youkilis, Masterson, Paplebon and Lester that really drove that team after the trade deadline and that productivity was paid for with 11 million which is less than half of what the Yankees are throwing out for a guy who only plays in 20% of the game tops. That and three of our top five earners are on the trade block (Lugo, Lowell and Drew) and might be gone by year-end. Guess my observations still remain true: they really only hate you because you win.

You gotta wonder what Joba's thinking right now (you always gotta think what Joba's thinking right now...I know I do): "Wow, AJ and CC? Guess they don't really have much faith in me anymore."

THE DOBERMAN: MEAN DOG OR INFERIOR OWNER?

We took Jackson the Super Beagle and Tucker the Linebacker to the dog park this last Sunday where a Doberman attacked a Bloodhound, clutching onto the hound's lip/ear/neck. Not sure if it drew blood, but the Bloodhound owner sets off the Doberman owner by running up on the melee and, with a fury, lashes the Doberman with his leach to pry him off of his hound.

The Doberman owner, who has lived a life of failure and has an aggressive disposition because of it, grabs his dog and turns to the Bloodhound owner saying, "Don't ___ing hit my dog, dude!" The bloodhound owner returns, "Your dog shouldn't be out here." Let the games begin.

After a heated exchange that about came to punches, the Doberman owner insists he's not leaving. You know, I can't imagine where the Doberman gets his attitude. This is a chicken/egg type of scenario. Is the Doberman aggressive because his owner is a loose cannon who drives a Toyota Trecel and flunked out of high school only to spend more money than he could afford on a "tribal" tattoo that he would later resent? Or because of the tribal tattoo, he knows he'll need a dog to protect him like Simba from Lion King so he gets a Doberman? Either way, this dude is a prick and further represents the Yellow's failures as responsible pet owners.

Well, the long and short of it is that, after some more choice words and another scuffle, the Bloodhound owner (either being the "bigger man" or the first to simply give up) leaves, but not without a few last words to the Doberman owner. The Doberman owner walks around and apologizes to everyone because he wanted to appear like a reasonable and fair person.

"I'm sorry about that folks, but my dog never acts like that and we're out here all of the time."

Funny how some apologies are not at all apologies.

Mayhem, who had his Boxer out there, hangs back and becomes a "friend" to the Doberman owner who, I guess, just thinks that Mayhem's an edgy cat with an inferiority complex like him because Mayhem wears Oakleys and alot of black clothing.

About fifteen minutes later, two Greater Swiss Mountain dogs show up. These dogs are closer to size of horses than dogs. The Doberman begins dancing around the park doing fly-bys on the Swissies. I speak with the woman who brought the Swissies and let her know that she needs to be on alert because the doberman had already attacked another dog. The lady turns around and beelines over to doberman dude and confronts him. "Did your dog attack another dog out here?"

"Ma'am, my dog bit another dog, but we're out here every week and it's never happened before. Dogs get in fights occassionally out here."

She returns, "Sir, you probably need to leave."

Before you could say "Michael Vick," the Doberman climbs up on a Swissy and attacks. The woman pulls out her leash and lashes the doberman on the back breaking his clutch on the Swissy and she begins yelling at him, "You need to leave." From the wings, I yell, "Yeah!" because I'm too much of a wuss to confront the dude myself.

Anyway. Doberman owner still refuses to leave and now, everyone's really bummed out and getting aggravated by this cat because he's clearly just trying to prove a point that he ain't leaving because he ain't wrong and his dog never acts like this so it's no problem.

You know, there are the kinda people who follow the posted rules and then there are the kinda people that have a broader set of rules they subscribe to. I know it might not say specifically that "Dobermans are not permitted," but as a Doberman owner who has witnessed his dog get into three different fights, wouldn't it be easy to just to say it's not your dog's best day and just leave? Well, to the thinking population that doesn't act like twelve year olds, yes. But that's not this guy. I hope he doesn't have kids because there's no room in Texas prisons.

UNWRITTEN DOG PARK RULE #1: If your dogs get into a fight, leave and come back at a later time. If, at that point, your dog gets into another fight, seek training and don't come back for a long time. It's possible that your dog does not want to socialize and is being forced into these uncomfortable situations. I would also suggest cutting off his testicles with garden shears, showing them to him and then throwing them in the alley. That tends to take the edge off of an otherwise aggressive dog.

UNWRITTEN DOG PARK RULE #2: Dogs come off the leashes in dog parks. Leaving them on the leash leads to a heightened level of anxiety and the likelihood of an act of aggression is proporationately increased. Think I'm making it up? Do the math, son.

UNWRITTEN DOG PARK RULE #3: Your Doberman attacks my dog, duke, it might not be my leash that I use to ward him off. I might just punch him in the head with the butt of my hand.

UNWRITTEN DOG PARK RULE #4: Don't crowd the entrance/exit. Walk around deep into the park. It gives the park space and greatly reduces the chance of a fight or scuffle because it prevents crowding of the greeting experience. You'll spot a lazy dog owner by the ones that walk into the dog park and then plant their ass five feet from the gate. The dog park is the size of almost three football fields and they clutch the entrance gate like a kid in the shallow end of the pool.

UNWRITTEN DOG PARK RULE #5: If your dog marks my dog (yes, it's happened), I'll mark you.

In other news, Celtics are off to their best start in franchise history at 21-2. This team is so freaking good, it's scary. Still wish they had James Posey, but the bench is playing well. The East sure has some contenders this year. It would appear that the East is starting to rise again. Cleveland's incredible this year. Orlando, always-dangerous Detroit, Atlanta--they're all playing good ball. Got a sixer of Sam Adams for Celtics versus Hornets tonight. Word 'em up.

To continue with sports talk: it looks like if you lose one game, you lose everything in college football. Understanding that we got murdered at Oklahoma, but Graham Harrell didn't even get invited to the Heisman ceremony. He got to go to Disney World for the College Football Awards, but ended up just shaking hands and getting a little camera time but only as Michael Crabtree took home the award for the nation's best receiver and gave him a shout.

Here are the statistics for Harrell:

4,747 yards/41 touchdowns/71.5% completed/7 interceptions

Sam Bradford:

4,464 yards/48 touchdowns/68.6% completed/6 interceptions

Colt McCoy:

3,445 yards/32 touchdowns/76.5% completed/7 interceptions

Tim Tebow:

2,515 yards/28 touchdowns/64.9% completed/2 interceptions

Not only does he statistically match up with the best in the nation, but he led the Red Raiders to the most successful campaign in school history, led a last-minute drive to beat the Longhorns (the first time that the Red Raiders have beat a #1-ranked team) and then leads a comeback against the Baylor Bears with two shattered fingers in his hand. Dude didn't even get an invitation to the ceremony. For a cat that threw for over 15,000 yards in three years, giving him a pat on the head before awarding him with a career in the Canadian Football League is so freaking awesome. Once again, I side with Leach who claims the "non"-invite of Harrell is just "politics over performance" where Texas, Oklahoma and Florida were all represented, but Texas Tech left off the list in the same way we went from the "sexy" pick all year until we were embarassed in Norman then we fell to a "not mentioned at all." They love you when you're hot.

The big ol' Cotton Bowl for us.

The Yankees continue to court every great player in the league for their 2009 campaign. They got CC and now they're looking at AJ Burnett, Ben Sheets, Jake Peavy and Mark Teixeira. Some one needs to tally up their potential payroll for a starting lineup. I'm sure it's incredible. It never ceases to amaze me that the Yankees will always attempt to basically buy their championships. I can't say that the Red Sox haven't been guilty of a bit of the same, but bargains like Pedroia, Paplebon, Ellsbury and Youkilis help disspell that attachment. That's a farm system, folks. Something the Yankees know very little about. Whatever. Something's gotta give and it always will. Their dream lineups that they've been throwing out there year after year are showing diminishing returns and Jeter and PayRod are only getting older. Amazing that despite their efforts, PayRod still has no championship.

Sox don't want Varitek back, but they make an offer just to appear fair to their captain. I know alot of people hoping he doesn't take it. Mark Teixeira would mean losing Mike Lowell who won a World Series MVP in 2007 only to possibly end his career sitting on the bench with injury. Lugo for Eric Byrnes makes good sense to me, but as a fourth outfielder (see bottom right)? Maybe we get rid of JD Drew too and trade him in for some pitching to replace the now not-so ageless Mike Timlin. At least we still have Youkilis at either first or third, Bay, Papi, Beckett, Paplebon, Ellsbury, Drew and reigning AL MVP Dustin Pedroia coming back as the the youthful core. But it's gonna take some bats to compete against that Yankee pitching.

Is hip hop dead? I don't know but if it means anything, probably the worst records of the year were turned in from Common and Kanye. I mean, they're straight butthole. I wanted to say I just wasn't in the mood, but listened to them later and, yep, still suck. Either hip hop is dead or I'm just out of touch. Maybe both.

The name of the game is Funkadelic. I recommend some for everyone.

THE CHRISTMAS SWEATER MIX

I was going to wait until I had more time...like next year. But turns out that I was just too anxious to hang on to this material for another year. So, I present to you a gift much bigger and better than any year-end list that I could possibly assimilate (although, I'm still considering doing that). It features everyone from Lawrence Welk to Eazy E, Paul McCartney to Atmosphere with, of course, a few treats in between. And, because not all of my friends believe that all words are equal, I edited it with Hanna Barbera sound effects so you'll feel more comfortable playing it around your parentals. Tis the season for alot of things, but certainly not the season for rampant expletives. It just bums some people out. Yes, I edited Eazy E. Love me or hate me, it took about two hours to edit that song alone. Hope it's worth the wait. De La Mix Vol. 2 is gonna need a little more time. At this point, it's next year. Anyhow, here's the tracklisting on the Christmas Sweater Mix. Roll your mouse over this right here to download. Check out this beast:


Booker T & da MGs "White Christmas"
MC Chris "Effin' Up My Christmas"
Darlene Love "White Christmas"
The Firm "Phone Tap (instr.)"
Lawrence Welk "Our Winter Love"
Princess Superstar "I Hope I Sell Alot of Records at Christmastime"
Paul McCartney "Wonderful Christmastime"
Canibus "Get Retarded (instr.)"
Gil Scott-Heron "Winter in America"
MCM "Chris Kringle Was a Black Man"
Clarence Carter "Back Door Santa"
Run DMC "Christmas in Hollis"
Amos Milburn "Let's Make Christmas Merry, Baby"
The Fugees "Zealots (instr.)"
Hard Rock "Christmas Bells"
DJ Kool "Let Me Clear My Throat (instr.)"
Wham "Last Christmas"
The Rap All-Stars "Last Christmas"
Blind Lemon Jefferson "Christmas Eve Blues"
Scoopy "Scoopy Rap"
Atmosphere "If I Was Santa Claus"
The Emotions "What Do the Lonely Do at Christmas"
Coldcut "Christmas Break"
Jimmy McCracklin "Christmas Time"
The Flirtations "Christmas Time is Here Again"
Dr. Dre "Still D.R.E. (instr.)"
MCM "Xmaz N Da Hood"
Vince Guaraldi "Skating"
The Pharcyde "Runnin' (instr.)"
James Brown "Santa Claus Goes Straight to the Ghetto"
Derek B "Chillin' With Santa"
Blind Authur Blake "Lonely Christmas Blues"
Wu Tang Clan "C.R.E.A.M. (instr.)"
James Brown "Signs of Christmas"
Ike and Tina Turner "Merry Christmas, Baby"
The Staple Singers "Who Took the Merry Out of Christmas?"
MCM "Ebony's a Scrooge"
Dana Dane "Dana Dane is Comin' to Town"
Booker T & da MGs "Winter Wonderland"
Spyder D "Ghetto Santa"
Jimmy McGriff "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town/White Christmas"
Sweet Tee "Let the Jingle Bells Rock"
Eazy E "Merry Xmas"
Black On White Affair "Auld Lang Syne"



And I don't care what anyone says, that "Auld Lang Syne" is the very best version ever recorded. Thanks to the good folks at Light in the Attic for giving Black On White Affair to the people. They're mad dope.



Oklahoma smeared Mizzou to take the Big 12 Championship. I'm with Coach Leach in that they should've broken the three-way tie in the Big 12 South with the graduation rate of the school's football team. That would've put Tech on top at 79%, Texas at second with 50% and then Oklahoma at dead-last with 46% of their football team actually graduating. I mean, they're supposed to be student athletes right? Just proves that Oklahoma goes for strictly athletes and not academics which is why they're so powerful. They're basically a minors for the NFL whereas Texas Tech is true collegiate experience where academics are not only encouraged, but enforced. Whatever, though, brains don't make good television and sponsors wanted Oklahoma to go because they'd be a more entertaining football game...I mean, if you consider a 40-point lopsided victory entertaining. Of course, in the spirit of full disclosure, a Tech player got arrested in Lubbock for slanging cocaine downtown last week. Awesome work, dude. Rep us well.



Dude, why do all college players these days look like they're freaking 30 years old? They look like pro players. These are supposed to be dudes that, more or less, just turned drinking age, right?



Who knows what'll happen next year at Tech. Crabtree says he's thinking about staying. His dad says he's already made the decision to go pro. Leach is interviewing with Auburn, Washington, the San Diego Chargers (?). Tech offered him a 5-year contract. Harrell says that Leach is probably going to leave. Geez, all these headlines. We'll just wait until the dust settles from the Cotton Bowl.



Kris, got your shirt request. Unfortunately, I don't have any baby sizes so either put on weight or let me try some creative shrinking tactics. Sarah, you too. I'll do my best. Clint, I got you covered.

DONUT WARS: KRISPY KREME VS. LOCAL IDIOTS

This weekend, while in my hometown of Lubbock, I had the pleasure to enjoy a real donut at Krispy Kreme. It had been quite a long time since I've had such an opportunity because, well, the Yellow location has been shut down for quite some time. That's because pesky local donut slinger Donut Stop basically pulled out the "local" card in their negotiations (demands) with gas stations and grocers suffocating Krispy Kreme's off-site business and forcing them to close their doors. Public perception is that Krispy Kreme simply couldn't keep up with the quality of Donut Stop donuts, but truth is, the local Krispy Kreme franchisee was a little green and failed operationally. It certainly wasn't the donut.

There's overwhelming rallying behind a local donut shop that prides itself on keeping jobs in the community and puts the emphasis on pleasing the customer with "the production of a superior product, store cleanliness, and a friendly atmosphere." First off, their product sucks and is really only a donut whereas Krispy Kremes are far superior as the entire United States has made perfectly clear. Krispy Kreme's donuts have a standard of excellence that has been long-standing and their donuts are far beyond even the best local competitor. There are few in the entire nation that can claim a better donut than Krispy Kreme and, to their credit, it's taken them years to dethrone the champ. One such donuteer is not poured-from-a-bag Donut Stop in Yellow, Texas. Their icing is the same that put on birthday cakes and the donut itself dries out after an hour in the box. Krispy Kremes can be warmed up to greatness a week after purchase. And while they claim a clean store, I'll take fast service over cleanliness any day of the week. My lovely wife waited in line for twenty minutes one Saturday morning at Donut Stop. Their locations are complete chaos and so poorly run. They couldn't manage a line of five hungry customers so you can imagine what Saturday mornings are like. People in this town tolerate such incredible garbage service. Krispy Kreme's lines flew with a methodical and fluid management of both house and drive-thru business. You can start at the backdoor and be through the line in ten minutes tops. Not only that, you get a free donut just for standing there. Donut Stop's coffee sucks. Krispy Kreme's coffee is magnificent.

This truly brings up the paradox of this community. They'll insist that no outside competitor with a better product come in and take the local donut business and muddah's will be up in arms over this, yet (YET!) they're talking about building another Wal-Mart which ships entire industries overseas. That'll make five Wal-Marts in a community of only 150,000 people. But we buy our donuts local. B'lee dat. 7-11 wouldn't stand a chance in the Yellow because there's Toot N Totums on every street corner yet when a chain restaurant opens up in this town, the whole town shuts down and descends on that place like zombies. Most recently, it was Cheddars. When that place opened, people turned into col' morons. You would've thought they were handing cash. They did the same thing to freaking Furrs Cafeteria. But we still buy our donuts local. No room in the donut game for a better product. Some cats don't even know the difference between Donut Stop and Krispy Kreme because they've only ever had a Donut Stop donut. Let me set it straight:

KRISPY KREME'S ARE FAR SUPERIOR

I found this interesting video on YouTube of Donut Stop. Funny how they bit the entire Krispy Kreme schtick with the "how it's made" point of view for the customer. It's so played. Check it out--they even feature the fountain drink machine. Note the empty tables too.

I'm thinking about taking up my own silk screening so I don't have to shell out the kinda cash I just did for shirts in the future. I think I'll start with this shirt. I'll sell them for the same price as a dozen donuts at Donut Stop. People shouldn't even be eating donuts anyway because they're horrible for you, but I'll say this, if you're gonna take the plunge, do it right: eat Krispy Kremes. People in this town should demand quality, excellence. Not just what's available. And if Donut Stop wants to come at me for use of their logo, I'll insist they pay U2 and Interscope for use of "Beautiful Day" on their promo reel.

We gotta take the power back and it starts with this right here. In fact, once I print them up myself, I'm going to walk right into a Donut Stop just to use their restroom and then complain about the cleanliness.

Sometimes, you just gotta take it into your own hands because your community and their politics failed you.

HAPPY JELLO'D FOOD DAY (I'M BRINGING THE SAUERKRAUT)

Today, I'm thankful for my lovely wife. I'm thankful for family. I'm thankful for zombie movies. I'm thankful for Sony. I'm thankful for my stupid beagles (even though they still eat their own feces). I'm thankful for Rummikub. I'm thankful for Funkadelic. I'm thankful for pecan pies (bourbon chocolate pecan pies, mind you). I'm thankful for evening jogs to the gym only to be too worn out to work out once I get there. I'm thankful for time changes that my body can't adjust to. I'm thankful for friends. I'm thankful for people who still buy CDs (even though they refuse to pay over $10 for them...rightfully so). I'm thankful for Mike Leach. I'm thankful for tasers. I'm thankful for Robert Deniro even though duke hasn't done a decent movie in ages. I'm thankful for Pedroia. I'm thankful for Def Jam. I'm thankful for being the first one on the mountain after a nice snowfall. I'm thankful for New Balance 574s. I'm thankful for CNN Headline News. I'm thankful for the hope that, one day, I'll get to chase a tornado. I'm thankful for the approaching ski season. I'm thankful for pale ales. I'm thankful for Honda products. Hell, I'm kinda thankful for my veteran neighbor (or as I like to call him Corporal Noah) who puts all those stupid animals out in his yard. I'm thankful for moron UT fans that failed to even graduate from high school. I'm thankful for Krispy Kremes even though the Yellow took my Krispy Kreme away from me. I'm thankful for Columbia Sportswear. I'm thankful for James Brown, Public Enemy, Charles Mingus, De La Soul and The Sword. Still thankful for the Lions although I'm just waiting for them to release a freakin' proper record. I'm thankful for ping pong (which I plan on playing some this weekend). I'm thankful for Ugly Mug Coffee which is quickly becoming my favorite. I'm thankful for moms. I'm thankful for grandmoms. I'm thankful for my nephew Parker. He's a dope lil' kid. I'm thankful for Blue Note. I'm thankful for starch. I'm thankful for garbage disposals. I'm thankful for hot sauce and salsas. I'm thankful that I was born in West Texas. I'm thankful for Axl Rose even though he gave Chinese Democracy to Best Buy. Whatta prick. I'm thankful for Keith Moon. I'm thankful for graffiti artists. I'm thankful for Skullcandy. I'm thankful for our armed forces who will have to endure yet another holiday season fighting for our safety. I'm thankful for wireless devices. I'm thankful Messiah (not the Messiah, mind you, although I'm also thankful for that) for releasing the redesign on the original Nintendo console so that I can play "Baseball Simulator 1.000" on a 46" television. Strangely, I'm thankful for the first and only cold of the season. I'm thankful for menudo. I'm thankful for a good sneeze and a good stretch. Also, I'm thankful for a good belch and a good fart. I'm thankful for white trash. I'm thankful for trash of all colors and ethnicities. I'm thankful for Insane Clown Posse fans that put a roof over my head. I'm thankful for Danny Ainge and Theo Epstein. I'm thankful for chocolate. I'm thankful for fleece and I'm thankful for Velcro (even though I sometimes don't act like it). I'm thankful for Pat Sajak and Howie Mandel. I'm thankful for the underdog and, at times, I'm thankful for the dynasties.

I'm heading down to Lubbock--center of the college football universe--this weekend to see my beloved Red Raiders pull off the most unlikely of results to this season. OSU will beat OU. A&M will beat UT and the Red Raiders will hang an Abilene Christian output on Baylor beating them 93-20--leapfrogging over both OU and UT into the Big 12 Championship and then mercilessly pounding Missouri on their way to the National Championship in Florida. Really, we just need for Oklahoma State to beat OU. If that happens, we win the tie against UT because we beat them in the head-to-head and we'll win the Big 12 South and play in the Big 12 Title game. There's still something to salvage from this season. You bet.

The shirts are ready, my friends. Again, five bucks a pop if we do it hand-to-hand. If I gotta mail it, it'll be seven bucks. I sold seven of the fifty yesterday so they're moving fast. I got plenty of larger sizes because, let's face it, you can shrink a XXL, but you can't fit a fat man in a medium. Ever. I gotta say, the shirts look so freaking dope. I have a varying sizes, configurations (long sleeve and short sleeve), colors and two different designs. And that price is $1.28 below cost because I like you cats and know times are hard. You can barely get an undershirt for five bones these days. Holla atcha boy.

First road block in the De La Buhloone Mindstate mix: I can't find the original sample of the guitar in "Eye Patch." Hopefully, this doesn't lead me on a White Lightnin' hunt. I can't afford another one of those chases. One sight says it's Lee Dorsey. Another says it's the Meters. It ain't either because I've heard both of those songs. I'm 7% finished though which, in terms of completion, that's an insignificant number. Just say I haven't started because that's more accurate.

Keep smilin', homie. Life's pretty nice.

D-FUNK: I WISH MY BROTHER GEORGE WAS HERE

I'm proud to present to you, the latest installment in a sequence of mixes exploring the musical contexts of classic hip hop recordings by mixing them in with the original samples: Del tha Funkee Homosapien's I Wish My Brother George Was Here from 1991. While AllMusic writes about Del's debut, "Del helped lay the foundation for what would become California's thriving underground scene with his seminal debut, I Wish My Brother George Was Here...tak(ing) the Parliament/Funkadelic-derived G-funk sound popularized by NWA and spins it into exciting new directions, replacing gangsta rap's nihilism with a healthy sense of the absurd...Del has accomplished much since the release of Brother George...but nothing he's done since has quite matched the charm, fun, and sheer exuberance of his stellar debut." Adversely, Wikipedia claims, "As a whole, the hip-hop community had mixed feelings about I.W.M.B.G.W.H. Some felt it to be just too corny, while others thought it the 'flyest shit out there'. Del, not pleased with the album himself, took matters into his own hands." Regardless, I've always considered it a classic at it has cemented itself deep in the hearts of both funketeers and hip hop heads over the last two decades.


It's perfect blend of Parliament, Meters, Donald Byrd and others is the perfect backdrop for a young and carefree Del to spit his lyricism over. In its original form, Brother George is a hip hop classic. Slow...it...down, however, listen deeper and what's evident is that it's definitively a funk record and a damn good one at that. The mix, while shorter than previous mixes, explores the funk roots of this incredible debut record. Nod ya head to this. Link below the cover art. Tracklist below that.

CLICK HERE TO BEGIN YOUR FUNK ODDYSSEY

1 P-Funk All Stars "Pumpin' It Up"
2 Del "What is a Booty?"
3 The Monkees "Zilch"
4 Del "Mistadobalina (Remix)"
5 Del "Mistadobalina"
6 Parliament "(Gloryhallastupid) Pin the Tail on the Funky"
7 Del "Wacky World of Rapid Transit"
8 Donald Byrd "Street Lady"
9 Parliament "Colour Me Funky"
10 Del "Pissin' On Your Steps"
11 Funkadelic "I Bet You"
12 Del "Dark Skin Girls"
13 Ralph McDonald "Jam on the Groove"
14 Del "Money for $ex"
15 Marva Whitney "It's My Thing (Part 1)"
16 Del "Ahonetwo Ahonetwo"
17 Del "Ahonetwo Ahonetwo (Remix)"
18 Parlet "Help From My Friends"
19 Del "Dr. Bombay"
20 Hot Chocolate "You Sexy Thing"
21 Del "Sunny Meadowz"
22 Parliament "P-Funk (Want to Get Funked Up)"
23 Parliament "Rumpofsteelskin"
24 Del "Sleepin' on My Couch"
25 Average White Band "Your Love is a Miracle"
26 Del "Hoodz Come in Dozens"
27 Del "Hoodz Come in Dozens (Remix)
28 The Meters "Same Ol' Thing"
29 Del "Same Ol' Thing"
30 The Meters "Rigor Mortis"
31 The Bar-Kays "Jiving Around"
32 Del "Lil' Crumbsnatchers"

WHAT TO LEARN FROM AN ASS-WHOOPIN'

Yeah, kid. I know how it feels now. Well, we marched into Norman and crawled out. Pretty sure that no one saw that outcome. But if you give up 35 points in one quarter, it's gonna be pretty difficult to win the game. Kudos to OU. Good team as much as it pains me to say it. They're freaking stout. At the point that you admit that a comeback is out of the question, you just watch to see how bad it's actually going to get. Someone said last night, "Well, at least they didn't make it to 70." At least? Would it have made any difference? We got our ass kicked all over that field. Go ahead and hang 100 on us. We're already going to fall to #10 from #2. OU had the momentum from the first quarter and never looked back. We win together, we lose together. I just don't understand why, when you're down by close to 50 points in the second half and you have the best passing offense in the nation, you would do anything but pass to your five receivers on every freaking play. We're working this little running game, screens--throw it downfield. You gotta score a lot and do it quickly. Pass, pass. pass.

Harrell possibly lost his Heisman, Crabtree lost his. National championship out of the question. We'll get the big ol' Holiday Bowl. Everything flushed in one night of nationally-televised football. Oh well. So goes it. BCS giveth, BCS taketh away. At times like this, I look to Scott Hall to pick me off the ground and say, "Hang in there, kiddo, there's always next week."

Yep, and next week, we'll watch the Red Raiders put a "makin an example" whooping on Baylor--the punching bag of the Big 12 South. Most we can hope for, at this point, is that Oklahoma State beats OU, A&M beats Texas and we hang a hundred on Baylor and go play in the Big 12 Championship. Not a likely scenario, but have to throw it out there anyway.

I feel like watching zombie movies today. The Del mix is done. I'll post a link today sometime.

FRIDAY NIGHTS ARE FOR FUNKIN'

One of those instrumental records in my past is Del's I Wish My Brother George Was Here. This ish blew my mind. To be honest (and I only ever am), it was like my first funk record. I was about 14 years old and I didn't even know what Parliament or Funkadelic was. James Brown did "I Feel Good" and Sly Stone was, uh, I had never said that name in my life. Del's first record was basically how I got into funk. Even though it was definably hip hop, there was an element to his first record that was immediate and severely addictive. As I grew older, it was that one of those records that never aged. Maybe because in 1991, it was already about twenty years old because it was comprised of a bunch Parliament/Funkadelic records. I remember unfolding the cassette liner notes in front of me and checking the credits for which song sampled who. Names like "G. Clinton" were prominent in the liners. I didn't know who "G. Clinton" was and wouldn't for years until I could finally put a first name to him..."George"...the front man of some of the nastiest funk masterpieces ever to hit the globe. This is George. And, yes, is the Brother George Del is referring to.

Admittedly, just putting a name to Mr. Clinton was not a full understanding of his musical accomplishments. That would come much later. I'd say it was about 1999 when I purchased a used copy of Funkadelic's Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow that I was completely hooked. It was a sickness. If you're reading this, you're catching me admist a, roughly, 20-month funk binge. You name, I've listened to it. I've completely immersed myself in it and it's been among the greatest musical periods of my lifetime. But as I spiral outward, I always come back to where it started. When I was working on the second De La mix, I was listening to "I'll Stay" by Funkadelic as I was mixing it down and I was completely hypnotized. Also equally distractive was listening to Parliament's "The Placebo Syndrome." I then went heavy into my back catalog and started listening to Funkadelic records. I listened for hours on end up at work and decided, as a break from my De La project, I desperately needed to go back and give the same treatment to Del's first album. It made perfect sense because, essentially, it's one of the dopest funk records that hip hop has ever made. I was talking to Owen today and was floored when he told me he never really listened to Del. It made no sense to me. I thought everyone had heard Del's first record because I'm so out of touch. In Owen's defense, I think Wish My Brother George only scanned like 300K which, back when the music industry was healthy, that was a mediocre place on Soundscan. These days, that's a good as platinum.

So, here I am, on a Friday night with a cold six pack listening to Del and George Clinton in an otherwise empty home except for two sleeping beagles. My lovely wife's out of town which leaves me to hours of endless listening--for better or worse. I've already mixed down through, uh, at least "Dr. Bombay." Can't remember. I ask you to be on the lookout for the mix. It'll be done before the end of the weekend. I'm pretty positive of it. Here's the album cover. If you don't see it in your local record store, it proves that the industry is completely lost and retail is dead. Have no fear, though, I'll have a version of it ready for download along with the original samples.
Had a pretty positive experience throwing my two De La mixes and Cypress mix up on Okayplayer.com. Music heads must really check it out. I've been posted for, geez, close to nine years. Man, nine years. Of course, I only post about ten times a year. A few cats were extremely complimentary of the mixes. Funny, how close to 350 people downloaded the De La Soul is Dead mix in two days and yet Danny still hasn't downloaded the 3 Foot mix because he's on dial-up and it keeps timing out on him. I like my friends. I do.

Kelvinmercerlookalike, glad you enjoyed the mix. I'll try to keep up. Day job, married with two needing beagles and a number of unresolved tasks both at the office and homestead. It's tough. But these hours are crucial. I'm at a creative flex and I can go to bed when I want because the lady's away.

Man, this OU/Tech game has officially twisted my stomach into a sheet shank. Alot of cat's think that Tech stands a chance. I think they stand better than a chance. In fact, chance ain't got nothing to do with this game...it's skill, homeboy. We got the best passing offense in the nation and OU's pass defense is 90th in the country. Mike Leach has surprises that haven't even been imagined yet and Stoops is known for blowing big games. Gotta love our odds.

Not that I don't give OU their due. They're freaking #5 in the country and I still haven't gotten my "hands around" (love that phrase) Tech being #2. Wait, you're telling me that we're going into Sooner Country and OU is looking to upset? So, we're better than OU? Bizarre. Not quite as bizarre as Mike Leach doing the weather on local Lubbock television. Real pimps call the weather. Whaddup, Ron Roberts?

That's all you get. Back to Funkville. I love you. I sincerely do.

DOUGHNUTS FOR YOU, KID...THE DE LA MIX IS HERE

Hopefully this comes well worth the wait. Thanks to David, we got the White Lightnin' track converted to digital form, but because nothing comes easy, Audacity didn't recognize the file so it had to be further converted to an MP3 which required downloading some program that'll, with my luck, obliterate my computer. I smelled smoke earlier coming from the rear of the computer, but it seems to have subsided. After getting the track laid into the mix, we pieced the rest of it together which had been already mixed down so it was just a matter of sequencing.

That White Lightnin' record was worth the hunt. You think about what I went through to get that sample, I really think that I wasn't intended to find that. Firstly, I spend about seven days looking for any information on the group come to find out that I'm looking for White Lightning and not the correct White Lightnin'. Then, while hunting for the song "That's No Lie," I find out that not only is it not available digitally, it's wasn't even pressed on CD. Vinyl only. I find two copies available for purchase. One is domestic and costs only $25 including shipping. Dude takes about a week to ship it. Get it in only to find that the record's been lacerated with a box cutter and, awesome for me, the scratch goes right through "That's No Lie." After being converted to digital, it ain't even in an acceptable file type. But it's over now. This mix is ready.

And now, I present to you, The De La Soul is Dead Mix. Get ready for the thongs. Tracklisting and cover art below for your usage. Almost 60 tracks mixed seamlessly (well, sorta) timing in at just under two hours of De La Soul is Dead mayhem featuring Bob Marley, Parliament, Funkadelic, James Brown, Frankie Valli, Stevie Wonder, Serge Gainsbourg, Lou Donaldson, Aerosmith and, of course, De La Soul plus many others. Get yo' fix, son.

Download the freakin' thing by hovering your mouse of this

1 De La Soul "Intro"

2 Wes Montgomery & Jimmy Smith "Baby, It's Cold Outside"

3 Lafayette Afro Rock Band "Hihache"

4 De La Soul "Oodles of Os"

5 De La Soul "Talkin 'Bout Hey Love"

6 Stevie Wonder "Hey Love"

7 Brother Bones "Sweet Georgia Brown"

8 De La Soul "Skit 1"

9 De La Soul "Pease Porridge"

10 Harrell Lucky "Pease Porridge Hot"

11 Frankie Valli "Grease"

12 Instant Funk "I Got My Mind Made Up"

13 The Mighty Ryder "Evil Vibrations"

14 De La Soul "A Roller Skating Jam Named 'Saturdays'"

15 Young Holt Unlimited "Light My Fire"

16 Joe Sample "In All My Wildest Dreams"

17 De La Soul "WRMS's Dedication to the Bitty"

18 Teana Gardner "No Frills"

19 De La Soul "Bitties in the BK Lounge

20 Lou Donaldson "It's Your Thing"

21 De La Soul "Bitties in the BK Lounge" (continued)

22 Jimmy Spicer "Money (Dollar Bill Ya'll)"

23 De La Soul "Skit II"

24 De La Soul "My Brother's a Basehead"

25 Wayne Fontana "Game of Love"

26 El Dorados "At the Front Door"

27 De La Soul "Let Let Me In"

28 James Brown "For Goodness Sakes, Look at Those Cakes"

29 De La Soul "Afro Connections at a Hi Five"

30 Chuck Jackson "Now That's Sayin' Alot"

31 Kellee Patterson "If It Don't Fit, Don't Force It"

32 De La Soul "Rap De Rap Show"

33 Funkadelic "I'll Stay"

34 De La Soul "Millie Pulled a Pistol on Santa"

35 De La Soul "Who Do U Worship?"/"Skit III"

36 Edna Wright "Oops, Here I Go Again"

37 De La Soul "Pass the Plugs"

38 James Brown "Pass the Peas"

39 Serge Gainsbourg "En Melody"

40 De La Soul "Not Over 'Til the Fat Lady Plays the Demo"

41 The Whatnauts "Help is On the Way"

42 De La Soul "Ring Ring Ring (Ha Ha Hey)"

43 De La Soul "WRMS...Cat's in Control"

44 De La Soul "Skit IV"

45 Parliament "The Placebo Syndrome"

46 De La Soul "Shwingalokate"

47 White Lightnin' "That's No Lie"

48 De La Soul "Fanatic of the B Word"

49 Bob Marley "Could You Be Loved"

50 Bob James "Sign of the Times"

51 De La Soul "Keepin' the Faith"

52 De La Soul "Keepin' the Faith (Fly and Funky Mix)"

53 Aerosmith "Walk This Way"

54 De La Soul "Skit V"

55 De La Soul "My Mindstate"

And, in a first-come-first-served basis for the the first ten folks, the thong-free download of The De La Soul Mix Vol. 1: Three Beats Deep and Diggin'. I know a few folks complained about not being able to download the first mix because you're ass couldn't check in on the blog once in a while and the link expired on you. So I restored the download link. Click the link below the cover art. I also am offering up new cover art as you see, to replace the shotty first run.

The De La Soul Mix Vol. 1: Three Beats Deep and Diggin'

It's an Everything Must Go sale around here. Don't forget, too, to preorder your The Root Down shirts. Just drop me a line. Both designs are available in a wide array of sizes and colors. $5 each if I can deliver it by hand. $7 if I have to mail it. I'm working on one tike-size shirt in the Bongo Band design. I reserved it for my nephew Parker, but not sure if it'll press because the screen might be too big for the shirt. We'll see, Bro Bro. Parker will not be expected to pay for his shirt because he has yet to have a solid source of income.

For the kiddies

For the OGs

Well, while we didn't win the Series because Tampa Bay took our spot only to tuck their tail, lay down and piss themselves, Pedroia the Destroyah took home the AL MVP award because he's a stud. Two years in the league and the cat's got one pennant, a World Championship ring, a Rookie of the Year award and now an MVP. Respect.

I think I've officially stopped sleeping. I only lay down anymore. I was up at 2:00 this morning and finally crawled out of bed at 3:15. It's 5:30 and I've been up for three and a half hours. It's sick. Not only have I not adjusted to the time change, but I can't even get more than four hours of sleep. It's not that I don't need it either. Last night, I worked out at 9:00, came home and passed out on the couch at 10:00 and was up at 2:00AM. I think I got trouble on my mind and maybe that's what's stirring me, but it ain't. I just can't sleep.

We need to just have a get-together this weekend at the homestead. I'll take critiques on the new De La Mix, we'll unveil the new threads and then, we'll finish it all off by watching the Red Raiders go to Norman and spank the Sooners on my wall. A Sooner is basically a land looter, right? I forget the definition.

Ah, you know, it's rare that I find a really solid record anymore, but I gotta tell you: Uncut Raw's First Toke is simply madness. Don't know where they're from, don't know they are, but I can tell you their comprised of two cats: Fluent on production and emcee Selfish. Seriously, this thing blew me away and, again, thanks to Q at Traffic for the hook up. It's very Madlib, very Perseverance, Oh No, Stones Throw...it's truly ill.

Well, it's 6:30 and I guess I'll go punch myself in the face and then stare at my bleeding eye wondering why I can't sleep and just how bad this day is going to suck because of it.

ROAD TRIPPIN'...TO TULSA

Friday night, my lovely wife and I are chowing a burger at a local eatery. She says, "You know, if we're planning on getting a new TV for Christmas, because I love you, I think we should get it before the Tech game this weekend." Ask and it shall be done. Saturday morning, before departing on a haul across the Corridor of Colorful Roadkill--the stretch from the Yellow to Tulsa, OK--we dropped in at the local Sears (because Wal-Mart only carries the basic level Sony because, well, they suck and don't feel their customers really deserve any more than the crappiest Sony that Sony makes...which, c'mon, it's still a nice TV...if you're blind and don't care) and picked up a beautiful new TV that makes real gangstas' TVs look like an Etch and Sketch. We toss it in the house and hit the the road at precisely 8:20AM for Tulsa. You might recall that I'm taking my lovely wife to see Amos Lee. Not that I'm just along for the ride necessarily, but I've been on an extended dry spell in live shows. I, honestly, haven't been to a show since Atmosphere and crew detonated Lubbock and that's been a far bit. Regretfully, of course.

And because I'm a crazy-great husband, I also agreed to dedicate some time turning over antique stores looking for a fixture for the new TV. We knew what dimensions and a ballpark of what we wanted it to look like. Other than that, we had about five and a half hours of road, two iPods (mine, of course, killing hers simply because it has 54 James Brown and the JBs tracks) and enough to discuss (leading the conversation with "is the penitentary system only a holding cell for people with really nasty head injuries?"--discuss and we'll reconvene later). Upon arriving in the budding metropolis of Tulsa, we were actually taken back by what the lovely city had to offer.

It's a dope place. Kinda reminds me of Austin as it's the "cool" to OKC's stuffy-Dallas-ish snootery. Accomodations were nice and centrally located and, thanks to the punk bartender who I asked to borrow his corkscrew at which replied, "You can't borrow it, but I can do it for you," as he glared at me and my bottle of cheap red wine for my lovely wife...the drinks were tasty. We did a little shopping at some local antique stores and this pretty fly consignment store. We walk up and the dude's col' blasting some Young Jeezy. I walk in wearing my Wu hoodie and he's like, "Aw, Wu Tang." Amazing that a single sweatshirt can basically break the ice wherever it goes. He throws on some Immortal Technique like full blast in this place while my lovely wife and I search his goods. Cat had some nice stuff, but nothing that we were looking for. We hit up this nice little bar down in the Brady district where we watched this cat Paul Benjamin play. He reeled me in with a cover of "Girl from the North Country" by Bob Dylan. Dude killed it. Had a couple of local IPA's and then we were on our way to the venue.

Amos was way nice. Very surprising. I guess I've just been listening to other stuff. He's mad decent and trucked through his set. Nice time was had by all except for a woman who caused a commotion and then people fled in different directions. I call a pool of puke. Guess she had the wrong idea about the Amos Lee show. I suspect she has the wrong idea about a lot of things. We wrapped up the show and decided to head up Main Street to the Cain's Ballroom which was where Bob Wills blew up and pimped the whole game. The Sex Pistols played there and, in fact, of the few places in the States where the Pistols played, the Ballroom is the only one still standing. Did you know The Outsiders was filmed in Tulsa? Yeah, didn't think so. Do the knowledge.

So we head up to Cain's and it's apparent by the sound from within that there's a show. Not really in the mood for a show, but rather just wanting to see what a "spring-loaded wooden floor" feels like, I kinda wander outside while my lovely wife walks right in. Through an open door, I see her waving me in. She tells me that the doorman said, "The bands almost done, ya'll just head in." And now, I'm wondering what that horrible moaning is that I hear coming from the stage. Turns out it's none other than the Plain White T's which I really have no interest in, but I like a good experience.

Buckle up.

So, we walk in to this huge space and I'm just gawking at the place because it's so insanely badass. It's this huge, dimly lit ballroom, a little dusty with these huge portraits on the wall of Bob Wills, Eddy Arnold and others. I'm just taking it in while the Plain White T's play another song off their new record that no one knows. I'm starting to watch the crowd and it dawns on me how incredibly sad this whole ordeal is.

The Plain White T's blew up around "Hey There, Deliliah" and, what happens when you write a song that basically exceeds you, people stand around with their arms crossed, sipping Pepsi all pissed off because you'll play everything in your reportoire except (and only except) the song that basically put you on the map. Hell, if they played it first, no one would've made it to the third song. Here they are playing to a bunch of radio winners--in fact, probably only a handful of kids paid to see that show. The owner's pissed because I was the only cat that bought a beer in probably the three hours they were open that night. You got some pissed off cat with his kid who just celebrated her sixth birthday sitting there yelling at Plain White T's, "Play the only song we know!"

To the Plain White Ts credit, they stuck to the gameplan. They didn't give in at all. They sat there and mowed clumsily through their set and their new songs knowing that knowing was paying any sort of attention. It was probably the most painful thing I've ever witnessed. Tom, the lead singer (Wikipedia, kid...Wikipedia), kept laughing between songs uncomfortably saying, "How about another song off the new record?" which was met with absolutely no applaud. Like he heard two thousand kids yell, "Hell yeah! Play something off the new record!", the band dives right into another song. Reality is he's dancing around on stage while only about 150 kids stand there in a pool of their own drool as their legs begin to bend and loosen in their excrutiating fatigue. After about two more songs, Tom salutes the crowd and says, "Tulsa, thanks for having us. Good night." They dash off stage.

And, yes, you guessed it, they come back out in like ten seconds. Seasoned performers wait like, at least two beers before hitting the stage again. Not the Plain White Ts. Like they couldn't wait to get it over with, the come bouncing back to the stage with guitars in hand and now these kids know they're gonna get what they're due.

A song about California.

At this point, you feel like the place is about to erupt. I'm thinking some kid just consumed in angst is going to burn the place down waiting to hear the Plain White Ts play "Hey There Latifah." Even Tom's getting edgy dropping the F-bomb on these poor kids. You can tell this gig is getting really old for him. It's like playing hard to get with the crowd and it's so juvenile and tiresome. The crowd is basically begging him (short of hopping on stage and playing "Deliliah" their damn selves) for one request so they can go home and he's like, "Ah wait, now. I got a song about the dentist office. I got a song about Canadian architecture in the 1920's." And, while tonight, he's trying to prolong his glory, he's trying to do the very same thing to his career. Just two more songs. Just two more songs.

You know, you'd think the dude would be grateful. I mean, how many dudes can claim they have a song that was number one in like twenty-something countries? If I were him, I'd come out and do fifteen different versions of "Deliliah" in under thirty minutes and then I'd bail. I'd do it for about a year, quit, own a pony ranch or t-shirt company and die happy and rich. Artistry just gets in the way. It's okay to pimp yourself. Everyone does it in the music industry.

He finally goes into "Hey There Deliliah" rather uncerimoniously. I would've been like, 'Alright, you morons, here's the freaking song you wanted to hear. I'm going to play it once and only once. You sit there and sing along like good little kiddies because it overwhelms me with a distinct feeling of accomplishment that otherwise I would not get to enjoy because I've failed at everything else in life. Sing along. Smile. Sway from side to side. Here's "Hey There Deliliah."' But no, he just goes right into it with barely an intro. I got near the door because as soon as he reached the middle of the song, I knew we'd need to split to beat the mob of kids sprinting out of that place. An interesting experience indeed. Cain's was badass. Would love to see Atmosphere there. Apparently they played there a couple of weeks back.

The next morning, we hit up Phill's just south of downtown where I feasted on two eggs covered in Tabasco, five slices of bacon, two helpings of hash browns, a biscuit and gravy and about six cups of coffee. I'd eat breakfast at every meal if it was available.

Before we hit the Corridor of Colorful Roadkill, we were still committed to hitting a few antique stores to see what we could find for the TV. We hit this district south of Tulsa where I picked up a Barry Manilow record and a Beach Boys record. No cabinet however.

We hit the highway, got suckered by Subway's $5 footlong offer only to find out the club is not included. Chow. Proceed to Weatherford. We see a billboard outside of Weatherford about an antique store. We hurry knowing that, on Sunday, if they're open, they're about to close because it's about 4:30PM. We hurry into this place and find the perfect piece with only five minutes to spare. It clears the back of the Honda by a fraction of an inch, but it fit. So we got the TV, the cabinet and the new Blu-Ray player in place all before Monday morning. Oh yeah, got the old Nintendo in too. Came to tears when I played Baseball Simulator 1000 on the wall.

Work always sucks after a vacation, but George sweetened it up by dropping off the introductory fitting of Sun Ra albums. Will get into that soon. Also, I got the freaking White Lightnin' record in. Tucker was first to listen to it. Am looking to get it converted to mp3 tonight and finish up the mix this evening.

Got to repair the track though once in digital form because the chump that I bought this from didn't let me know that he let his two-year old play with his vinyl. There's a huge ass crevace down the B-side of the record and, yes, it goes right through the one track that I spent $25 to get..."That's No Lie."

Regardless, I can work with it. Be on the look out for the De La mix. I'm listening to it right now and it's uncut dope.

Alright, The Root Down fans and readers, shirts are being made this week. They will cost you only $5 ($7 if needing to be mailed) and that's losing about $2 a shirt. It's a steal. Dude, I need to get in the freaking t-shirt business. They make some profit, geez. They were shocked when I asked if I got the screens when they were done. Whatever. They were nice, but I just don't trust their costs are equal to their output. We'll see.

I'm ready to make my prediction on the Tech game this weekend. Tech will win 56-45. Some cat online predicted that Oklahoma would win 47-37. I wasn't so confused by why he picked Oklahoma, but why he picked us to score 37 points. That's five touchdowns and a safety (safety not being likely) or four touchdowns and three field goals (three field goals even less likely). And he calls himself a sports writer. Dude, do you research. All you have predicted is suspect.

Stay up, folks.

RALLYING AROUND STEVEN ADLER

I guess we all have a little junkie in us. My addiction is "Celebrity Rehab" on VH1 where, to be quite frank, I've fallen for Steven Adler. Not in a romantic sense, mind you, but in the "heart is bleeding" sense. Growing up, Guns N Roses were like those older kids in high school that you wanted to roll with--the dangerous, sleazy, hard asses that col' wrecked a party. When Appetite hit, it just took you over. And Steven Adler, the engine pulling the band, was as nasty a drummer as you could find. But as the Tragedy of Rock was written: all that is will not be forever. From Wikipedia:

In late 1987, while Guns N' Roses was on tour, an intoxicated Adler broke his hand when he punched a streetlight after a barroom brawl. Fred Coury from the band Cinderella substituted on drums for several shows until Adler recovered. At the 1989 American Music Awards, where Guns N' Roses performed their latest single, "Patience," Don Henley filled in for Adler on drums. Officially, the absence was attributed to a case of the flu; it was later revealed that Adler had actually been in a drug rehabilitation program at the time.

Problems continued in 1990, as the band recorded "Civil War" for Nobody's Child, an album benefiting the Romanian Angel Appeal. Axl Rose has said in interviews that "Civil War was recorded a good 60 times" due to problems with Adler; Slash, in another article, stated that the band had to edit the drum track to "Civil War" simply to be able to play along with it. By Adler's own admission, he tried to play the song "20, maybe 30 times." During the recording of "Civil War" Adler was still trying to stop using drugs.

Adler was briefly fired from the band, but was reinstated after signing a contract promising to stop using drugs. In April 1990, he performed with Guns N' Roses at Farm Aid IV in Indiana. It would be his last appearance with the band. When problems in the studio continued, he was formally fired on June 11th, 1990, during the recording of the Use Your Illusion I and II albums, and replaced with Matt Sorum. The official reason for his departure, according to various members of the band, was his heavy substance abuse which impeded his ability to work. Geffen A&R rep Tom Zutaut, who worked with Guns N' Roses, corroborated this claim, stating in a 1999 interview, "Steven Adler would show up at the recording studio completely high. Recording sessions would abort for several days when he couldn't put it together."

According to Adler, his departure from the band was based on other reasons. In October 1991, he filed a lawsuit against his former Guns N' Roses bandmates, claiming that they were responsible for his drug addiction and that the contracts he had signed actually took away his financial interest in the band. In a 2005 interview he stated, "Doug Goldstein called me into the office about two weeks later. He wanted me to sign some contracts. I was told that every time I did heroin, the band would fine me $2,000. There was a whole stack of papers, with colored paper clips everywhere for my signatures. What these contracts actually said was that the band were paying me $2,000 to leave. They were taking my royalties, all my writing credits. They didn't like me anymore and just wanted me gone. That's why I filed the lawsuit - to get all those things back."

Ugh. Poor cat. Got stung by the addictions, couldn't even hold a drumstick. Blew his chance to record two of the greater rock records ever made and then hit a downward spiral he just couldn't shake. Slash, Duff and Matt (Adler's replacement) went on to form Velvet Revolver and enjoyed success. Izzy disappeared, but resurfaced for this awkward photo featuring Steven and Duff (middle). Axl went on to be an ugly woman with cornrows signing an exclusive deal with Best Buy to release an Axl and Buckethead record under the name Guns N Roses.

But poor Steven's challenges only mounted. To make his habits worse, like a habit he couldn't kick, he formed a Guns N Roses tribute band named "Hollywood Roses." Now, I'm not sure what the rules are about tribute bands, but I'm pretty sure forming a tribute band for a band you used to be in is an industry "no-no." In 2007, Steven's first project after GNR, "Adler's Appetite" played a show in which Duff and Izzy joined him on stage for several songs. Slash was in attendence. After the show, Steven was touting the experience as a "reunion" while all other denouced such. Seems it meant more to Steven than it did the others.

Well, it seems that Steven's downward spiral has landed him in rehab once again sitting across from Jeff Conway and his chronic back pains and Gary a-Busey. Steven's two strokes have cursed him with a weird speech impediment, but he hasn't lost his spirit.

I can't help watching this guy and hoping he turns it around. It's weird when you see dudes like this and you start thinking of all the guys who didn't get to play in the greatest band in the world. Did they go through lows or did they just stay normal? What about the guys from Enuff Z'Nuff?

Did they survive addiction? If not, did they survive rehab? Sometimes I think of what in the hell we're going to do with all of these aging rappers? Well, what did we do with all of the womanizing cokeheads from the early 80s? I guess, it's pretty much the same answer--it just works itself out. Except for Steven Adler. He's the fallout of that era. Anyway (raising mug of coffee), here's to Steven Adler. You're a badass. I'm rooting for you. You're a little creepy, but still dope.

Going to see Amos Lee with my lovely wife this weekend. The cat's pretty nice on record so I'm expecting good things. Still waiting on my copy of White Lightnin'. I could've just re-recorded "That's No Lie" by now. Once I get it, the De La Dead is done. Dude's straight slipping. He said he sent it on 11/11.

As you might have guessed, I'm up early. And I'm listening to Funkadelic's Uncle Jam Wants You. Your days are half lived.

Thanks to Q at Traffic for the huge box of goodies. I got some research to do. Along with KMD's Bl_ck B_st_rds and MF Doom's Operation Doomsday which were both repressed again, exhaustedly, he sent some Masta Ace side project, some Esoteric goodies, a killer comp of Yeshua, TUFF CREW (holy cow!) and some cats out of the mid-90's Boston hip hop scene...their name escapes me right now. I gotta say, I don't know what I'd do without Q's promos. They get me through sometimes.

Interscope pushed 50 Cent's new record to 2009 after touting it as the biggest record of the fourth quarter. I guess it doesn't really surprise me, but it just sucks at a time when the industry is looking for that hit to hang a hat on. Guess the hits just won't do it and dude's are gonna just have to hustle for that cash. Guess artists are just going to have to make quality records the way we used to. The industry's getting pinched hard right now. Every industry's getting it. Only the strong will survive. The weak will become the kindling the strong use to warm their green tea over. One thing has never changed: you never take anything for granted and you work your ass off for your keep. Ain't nothing handed to you.

Looks like my lovely wife and I are finally taking the plunge on a new TV as a Christmas gift to ourselves. I'm looking at the Sony 46". She likes the Sony 40". Eh. I'd be happy with either, but I'd be six inches happier with the 46". Wait, that didn't sound right. She blessed me passage to purchase it early in time to watch the Texas Tech game next weekend on the new TV. She's awesome. I also think the earlier the better because the 500 lb TV that we have right now is about to demolish the entertainment "center" it sits in. I'm serious, I can visually see the thing leaning from about eight feet away. I'm having nightmares of waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of a rhino falling through our house and then coming out to discover that our TV finally won the battle and turned a piece of furniture into sawdust. The new TV would not even weigh 50 pounds. That's incredible. I bet this thing we have weighs 150 pounds. I won't even be able to sell it. I'll have to pay someone to haul it off like a 1980 Hyundai.

Still too early to throw my score out there on the Tech-Sooner game, but my father-in-law said that if it's dry, Tech will win. If there's weather, Tech will lose. Still wondering what that means aside from if you take the offenses out, maybe, that Sooners stand a better chance. I'm seeing a few more cats picking Tech to win this thing.

Whatever. About to hit the road in, wait, we're not going anywhere for another two hours. Man, I've been up forever.

ONE DOPE TASING...

Click HERE for one of the best ever. Further proof that there's no better way to start or end your day than some harmless taser fun.

Just an update, I don't believe anything Governor Palin says. I never did and probably never will. Anytime she opens her mouth, she's dodging something.

Shirts will be done soon. I feel like I'm being taken on screening costs after I did all the design work and already purchased the shirts. Once I work out the costs, we'll move forward with printing. Just cool off. In time, my friend...in time.

That's all you get today because I don't feel like typing.

THE CASE OF THE MYSTERIOUS EYE JAMMIE

I pride myself on perfect health, stunningly good looks and a sense of humor that brings entire countries together. But primarily, perfect health. So when, about two weeks ago, I began battling what seemed to be a pesky eye itch/irritation, I thought that perhaps some outside force had just influenced my eye. Perhaps a gnat flew into my eye or, at the time, I had just made a fire so maybe it was the smoke. Seems a little whimpy to get a sore eye from a fire, but it could happen. As days turned to weeks, it became increasingly clear that something was going on with my eye. Reluctant to ever do anything about it, I decide to give it the weekend and see if it just "works itself out" which is something I believe all health issues do eventually.

When driving home from a West Texas A&M flogging over Tarleton State, 51-0, I get hit with an attack. My eyes basically begin to shut while I'm doing about 65 MPH up I-27 in thick traffic. I'm not really sure how we made it home. Oh, West Texas A&M hosts Central Washington in the first round of the Division II playoffs next week. WT's number nine in the country. Not too shabby. Only in West Texas is it necessary to clarify in your "Tailgating Guidelines" that ATVs, dirt bikes and firearms are prohibited. I imagine there's many other things that are prohibited (like helicopter stunts, juggling flaming bowling pins), but interestingly enough, these were the only things strictly mentioned.

Once we get home, my lovely wife decides that I'm going to a doctor, but reluctant to do it that night because the Texas Tech Red Raiders were scheduled to bust out a whooping on the Oklahoma State Cowboys, the last place I wanted to be was at the doctor. I won that one.

In the morning, under excrutiating pain at this point, my lovely wife drives me to a "Urgent Care" which, oddly, these places usually fail to provide anything urgently or any act that could be considered as care. When we arrive, my lovely wife, who just successfully battled the same ailment with doses of a steroid and some eyedrops prescribed from her doctor, asserts to everyone that she knows what I need because she had the same symptoms and was successfully treated just weeks earlier. Pretty simple game plan, I believe.

You would've thought we were asking to get prescribed heroin. It's like everyone was looking at us like, "Eh, I don't know. Maybe I can offer a second opinion." My wife would say:

Look, I'm telling you what he needs because I just recently had the same thing happen to me and my opthamologist prescribed Pretnisone and some eyedrops. I took both for three days and, miraculously, I was cured by taking the medication prescribed to me.

"Eh, despite your testimony, ma'am. I'm going to have suggest something else. It's a horse tranquilizer and hourly punches to the groin."

We ended up leaving with a prescription as requested by my lovely wife who now moonlights as a urgent care doctor. She's really good. On the recommendation of the "physician" (and only on the recommendation of the physician because you know my ass would never do so), we went to Wal-Mart to get our prescriptions filled for $4 a piece (for a total of $8). Pretty chancy, I felt. From a guy who vows to never buy anything that's living, once lived or supposed to live from Wal-Mart, here I am now trusting them with my health. We walk in and I mistaken the arcade for the pharmacy.

Of course, they're pretty much one in the same, though right? You give over a small amount of money for a game of chance. I might as well be playing Galaga instead. Well, one day on the steroids and I'm starting to feel better except for, of course, the expected swelling of the shoulders, increased aggressiveness and my testicles just fell off. I was taking batting practice with pecans in the backyard yesterday and, in ten minutes, I made a pecan pie five miles away.

Texas Tech obliterated Oklahoma State proving that we're no fluke and, as Mike and Mike put it this morning, "Never in my years of covering college football have I seen an offense that is so unstoppable." Yeah, they're good. We hang in there at #2 going into Norman, OK to face off against his former team.

Well, I was going to make a prediction on the OU game, but we got a while with a week off. Until then, I'll continue to pay homage to the great Mike Leach who is, unquestionably, the greatest coach in Texas Tech football history. Now, if you know anything about Texas Tech football history, that's not a tall task as in only nine seasons, he's about to become Tech's second winningest coach, but he's never had a losing season, we're 5-3 in bowl games under him (two of which were, without question, the greatest comebacks in bowl game history) and his teams have broken almost every offensive record the game has ever known all in an ever-stout Big 12. Dude's a stud.

Not alot to celebrate because, let's face it, Mondays suck. I'll keep you posted on the side effects of the steroids I'm on. Right now, I'm watching a mouse eating scraps in a dumpster fifteen miles away on a dirt road. Yeah, baby, Greatest American Hero style.

LET'S CHECK ON SAM...THA COL' PLAYA

As the Red Raiders host the Oklahoma State Cowboys, let's check on some real cowboys from Oklahoma, my brethren Sam and the Badly Bent Boys. I gotta tell you, these dude's col' lasso in the women and Sam represents for all the big boys out there that think it can't work. Sam's techniques as a pick-up artist runs circles around that dude Mystery. His charm and "gentle giant" ooze just suffocates the ladies into submission. He's a lover, but he listens. Wooing the ladies with his shoulder rubs and knee pats while responding with, "He doesn't understand you, but I do, Tracy," and my personal favorite, "You deserve better. You always have."

Women flock to his shows for a chance with Sam. The band gets the scraps. I mean, check this fool out. The girls, the girls they love him!

Sometimes you have to worry about the (c)ling-ons. One night after a long and enduring alcohol binge, Sam spilled his guts to a woman named Karen and, touched by his honesty and emotional volatility, she began attending every show thereafter hoping for a chance to relive the magic of that evening. It's kinda sad when I think about it, but girl doesn't really see it as sad. She lives in a fantasy world where Sam is her Eddie Money rocker boyfriend. She swears that everytime he plays "Wonderful Tonight," it's a dedication to her. She's a sport. Never passing up a chance to pose for a picture.

The sad reality, however, is she's one in a long line of women that wraps around Oklahoma seven times of hearts (or hienies) that have been pinched by Sam and the boys of Badly Bent. They share stories at shows of late nights with Sam on at the end of the bar. Some exchanges even turn violent and end up in fisticuffs. The women, geez, they just sit around like hungry rats looking for the scraps to fall. Like these two who hide out in a dark corner of the bar hoping to blindside Sam during his break and throw him in the back of a F-150, take him to their trailer, strap him to a bed, break his ankles and make him sing Garth's "The Dance" to them acapella for hours into the night. Dude's gotta look out.

Sam's saavy enough though. He can talk himself out of almost every situation and, even better, he talk anyone into anything. Take, for instance, the sad case of Mary. Another dingleberry who simply can't quit Sam, her suspended emotional state is that of a small girl smitten with summer love. She's been attending Badly Bent shows for the last five years. Meet Mary.

One night on the outskirts of Stillwater, Sam popped off at his sound guy because he passed out at the boards during "What's that Smell" by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Sam walks off the stage and smacks the cat with he heel of his hand, breaking his nose and ruining his reputation as a soundman in every county in central Oklahoma. Here he is, not but fifteen minutes into his set and, without a soundman. Scanning the bar for someone to sit in and turn the knobs for him, he sees Mary sitting there with a water in hand. Knowing she's gonna be at all of their shows anyway, he figures why not just put her to work? So he did and she's been the soundwoman ever since. She gets paid nothing for her assistance. Cold, Sam. Really cold.

Here we see a fairly normal sight at a Badly Bent set: people embracing each other softly. The lovers can't help it once the guys dive into their set.

Sam's not above going into the twenty minute version of "Wonderful Tonight" to lengthen the lovefest on the dance floor. Sam usually scans the dancing couples looking for a subtle wink or eyebrow flutter over the shoulder. It's usually enough to queue the band to, "take it one more lap around the track, guys." Sam's never going to stand in the way of a guy's pursuit of drunk, smelly and smoky poolhall love. I mean, come on, it's how rural Oklahoma keeps the birthrate up.

Another way to keep the rural Oklahoma birthrate up was letting former guitarist Mike wear his tank top. He'd have to fight off the ladies with the heavy end of his Squier. Unfortunately for thousands of mothers and expectant mothers, he never did. Another reason he didn't really work out as a guitarist. It's one thing to have hundreds of single and hot women show up at a show to sway back and forth mouthing the words to "You Are So Beautiful" staring longly at the band with tears in their eyes. It's another thing to have a hundred pregnant women standing there (sometimes with their husbands) delivering ultimatums and occassional ass-whoopings.

Never turning out a gig and touring like one hard mutha, Sam recently played a show at the local high school football stadium ("stadium" might be overstating it a tad bit). Of the forty people who showed up, thirty five were women. That's a pretty favorable ratio of men to women.

That's exactly why little weasels like this show up to the shows with their shirts unbuttoned.

Dude knows that Badly Bent brings out the ladies. If you're gonna play the odds, a Badly Bent show is as good as a wedding for emotionally swooning women ready to hook up. Smart man.

Good to check up on Sam and the Boys.

So the Red Raiders (now #2 in the freaking nation) lock up with the Oklahoma State Cowboys. They're a pretty nasty team with a solid offense and blinding speed. Yep, the honeymoon's over. That #2 ranking is only good for a week in the BCS standings. It'll be a battle, but I'm going with Tech with a score of 38-32.

The De La Soul Mix, Vol. 2 is bangin'. As you might recall, I'm working on mixing De La Soul is Dead with the breaks that comprised the classic. So close to completion, I dawned on me that I was missing a break--the break to "Fanatic of the B-Word"--a song by a group White Lightnin' called "That's No Lie." Well, I located one of the very few copies of the record on vinyl. It's been purchased for a cost of $23.98 and will be here early next week, at which point, I'll have it converted to a digital file and then throw into the stew. That'll complete the mix and I'll get it posted shortly thereafter. I'll also work on refreshing the link for the Three Feet High mix.

It's a Saturday, ya'll.