SATURDAY MORNINGS ARE FOR WHOOPING SOME TAIL

Coltrane whooped quite a bit of tail in his career. In fact, he put the freaking beatdown on a number of heads. Bought a Coltrane record last night at the store. That's the only reason I mention.

You know, I love Saturday mornings. Not having any hard deadline at 8AM and nothing but a tall pot of coffee. I have snow on the ground this morning. Almost poetic that two weeks ago, I was in getting ready to ski Taos in the very worst condition I've ever seen it and, now, they have 20 inches of fresh snow. They say that skiing is a sport that, when done correctly, is only about 30% exertion and 70% natural motion and gravity. That's assuming that conditions are suitable. Skiing in the southern United States is 70% good timing. I lifted a couple of photos from Sarahtopia (ill) where Sarah posted some images from the trip. Here we were at Eske's where I enjoyed a beautiful Reuben which sat a juicy split sausage atop a mound of the gnarliest sauerkraut you've ever tasted on a bun laced with dark seeded mustard which explains the resulting photo. Reubens can have that effect.

Then, after a couple of ales, Danny and I were happy to recreate the cover of Who's Next on Eske's western wall.
No public urination was committed in the creation of this photo. I promise you.

I'm coughing up brown crud this morning that can eat through plastic. Doctor visit? Maybe.



Madoff should have his greedy little hands cut off. Let's keep it Islamic.

The headline reads this morning, "Rapping reaches new heights" as rapping flight attendant offers "free entertainment as you buckle up your seatbelts." He raps the pre-flight instructions. One passenger just said, "I've never experienced a rapping flight attendant before. And I don't like rap, but that was pretty good." I'm going to go run my head into a concrete wall now.

An old colleague of mine moved to Seattle recently from the Yellow and I noticed everytime he's on Facebook, dude insists on telling us how incredibly happy he is now. Like he's just rubbing it in your face how awesome Seattle is and now not awesome the Texas Panhandle is. I'll give you a sampling from the day he first moved up there. From the top:

_____ has made it into Seattle and is trying to get settled in.
_____ is on the job hunt.
_____ is sleepy.
_____ is really happy he moved to Seattle.
_____ had a fun hike today on Mr. [assuming he means "Mt."--if not, that's a good joke] Rainier :)
_____ needs some mo' hikin'. [uh, okay...on Mr. Rainier?]
_____ wants his friends from A-town to move up here to Seattle :) [like it's that easy]
_____ is enjoying a cool, slightly moist day in beautiful Seattle.
_____ knows the Universe is taking care of me :)
_____ hopes that Cali legalizes weed :) God bless the West Coast :D [hmm. okay.]
_____ made a little bit of money at the casino last night :)
_____ needs to get some sh*t done today...
_____ be movin' into a new place tomorrow :)
_____ is trying to adjust.
_____ feels strangely serene...
_____ is smokin' and enjoying this fine neighborhood.
_____ is gonna go chill down by the canal.
_____ finally got a desk for his computer!
_____ can't sleep when there is so much to do here!! [yea!]
_____ is applying everywhere but can't seem to find a job!! AHH!!
_____ loves Seattle and is happier than he has been in a long time. [less exuberant "yea"]
_____ is happy to have Seattle's police cheief as the new Drug Czar.
_____ misses his friends back home but ain't never going back. [how awesome of you]
_____ is enjoying the beautiful weather in Seattle.
_____ just ate two enormous pot cookies. [hope you find a job soon]
_____ rode his bike down to the beach today :)

Something tells me this monumentous elation soon will dissolve into brutal reality of trying to pay rent in Seattle (which boasts a cost of living 31% higher than the national average) with no steady income. Good luck to him, but I'd spend less time on Facebook and more time in the classifieds. It ain't my life though.

Man, this Coltrane is going down good.

Michael Jackson announces that he'll be doing 50 shows in London and reports are that they sold out. How in the hell is he going to do 50 shows without his nose falling off?


I mentioned to Owen yesterday that I'm seriously considering unmixing Fear of a Black Planet and that, additionally, I should be committed to a padded cell. What I've done so far in my ventures has felt like, uh, I don't know...homework. Fear would be like a Masters thesis. It represents one of the most intensive sampling masterpieces in the history of recorded music. I know that I've often romanticized about this record on The Root Down, but I do it not because I like hearing myself type (?). I do it because it's warranted and deserved. If one was to listen to Fear in the way that prefer (through headphones--always), you'll hear the beauty in this record. At times, it's a brutal assault of grunts, shouts, screams--a horrific collage simply composed out of sounds. It's layering of sample on top of sample on top of sample is like a messy puree of James Brown, Parliament, Sly and Family Stone, MLK and Malcolm X. But altogether, it's one of the very tightest hip hop records you'll ever hear in your lifetime. It shreds, slices and demolishes every record in its path. When Fear came out in March of 1990 (man, twenty years next year!), the only thing that was remotely close to that sound was PE's prior recording It Takes a Nation of Millions and even it couldn't even hold a match to the intensity of Fear as a recording. The trick with unmixing Fear and then putting it back together again is adding to the integrity of the recording and not distracting from it. When a recording, in my eyes, is perfect in every way possible, you gotta be really careful if you're going to make changes or additions to it. So that's the challenge I'll be taking on. I'm starting to dig through what I got and see what I'm short in samples. Just pulled Prince's "Let's Go Crazy" this morning for the mix. Yeah, this is gonna be dope.

I'm talking about the record Fear of a Black Planet, not this post on the Tube. The guilt of the white man. Geez, dude's played.

Think I might go for a walk in the frozen tundra that is the Yellow dreaming of places like Seattle where the weather is nice and I don't have a job to worry about.