j3 PRESENTS:: WOKE UP TO A CLAP OF THUNDER

Pretty sure that it was the boom from Big Baby's baseline jumper that sank Orlando, 95-94, finally making it to the Panhandle from southern Florida. Confirmed, however, that it was a passing thunderstorm. It's been so long since I've heard thunder.

The coffee's good this morning. Not sure if it was the Sox taking the weekend series against the Rays or the Celtics evening the series with the Magic, 2-2, with the last second win last night. Winning teams are as much a curse as they are a blessing. In large part, that's why I haven't written much lately...because I can't stop watching this Celtics team. One night, they're easily the most overrated #2 seed ever and then, other nights, they're the spirited Celtics from last year. Nothing's easy for this team, though. With Powe and Kage out, everything's a uphill climb. I didn't think they'd survive round one so this is truly just gravy at this point. We're taking the series back to Boston tied 2-2. Never say die. Things are bound to get ugly should we make it past Orlando because it would mean a certain matchup with Lebron. Whatever, though, my grandmother adores Lebron so it's stacked against us. I don't know what her fascination is with him, but she thinks he's God's gift to basketball. Who knows, maybe he is.

That's really just an excuse though. That's not why I haven't written much lately. I've been pretty distracted lately. It's just madness. So busy at work. So busy at home. This week is going to kill me. Tonight, I'm driving to Lubbock after work for a reception for my father who is retiring, then back afterwards. Thursday we go back to Lubbock for his final concert, then to Dallas on Friday. Tyler on Sunday. Back to the Yellow on Monday. Will do some work in between all of it. Actually, will do a ton of work somewhere in between. Thank God for coffee.

Will walk to work this morning because not only do I like walking, I like walking in the rain. No, I don't want a ride. A week after replacing a tire on my bike, I caught another flat from a nail. Hung the bike up and began walking again. Not so good on the ankle, but it's nice to get back in touch with it. You know, when you spend the first thirty minutes of your day listening to Ice Cube and wincing each step from an irritating ankle injury, you have an edge most people couldn't possibly comprehend. It's healthy for the mind, though. Not much thought happens when you do the same trail in a car.

NO! Paula Abdul's a pill-popper?! Never would've seen it coming. Sure. Fatigue. All I know is when I'm tired, I don't act like a crackhead. Check out the 2:05 mark. What's even sadder is I don't think she graduated from high school. It's just a hunch. I told my lovely wife at the dog park this weekend after an owner's dog got tangled with another dog and a brief fight resulted, as the man walked away, I told my wife, "See that slouch? That's the slouch of a man that didn't graduate from high school." I think it's true. I see the same thing in Paula. Too bad. It's the same physical characteristics that make it easy to spot guys who have done hard time in prison. The unmistakable tightness in the shoulders. In the case of this guy and Paula, it's a posturing.

Wish I had thought to stop by a theater this weekend and count the virgins at the Star Trek premier. We could've made a count-the-jelly-beans contest out of it.

I didn't know Xavier University is in New Orleans. I really didn't.

For my next venture, I'm considering taking classes to learn how to restore old electronics. I want to be able to rebuild and refurbish turntables. I also want to learn a trade that will mean one less person I'm reliant on and would have to pay for services. Electricity does scare me though. You get shocked in the right place at the right voltage, you never forget it. In fact, it's like a little blip in your brain that's never corrected.

Sometime after that, I'm thinking about moving back to Lubbock and opening my own storefront. My lovely wife asked what I would carry. That's a good question. I suppose I'd sell vinyl, primarily, but then also refurbished turntables, iPods, sneakers, ballcaps, slipmats, sleek furniture, stackable coffee mugs, paintings of Eazy E, skate decks, road bikes, bike parts, select books, photography, John Coltrane DVDs, some crap I found at a second-hand store, an EPMD t-shirt. I'll call it Proper as in MC Hammer. We might even have a Slurpee machine. Clint, I'll need an accountant.

My father's retiring from teaching. Think I already mentioned that. The man has been a conductor for 30+ years and never received anything less than sweepstakes (straight 1's) in UIL contest. As a result, Coronado High School has a sweepstakes streak of 41 years. Don't know if that's a record, but pretty sure it should be. I would wish that, one day, I could retire. From what economists are saying, that's hopeful thinking.

"The Penguin Encyclopedia of Popular Music" does not have a listing for Run DMC. It's got a listing for Xavier Cugat, Red Steagall, Shelly Manne, Jefferson Airplane/Starship and even Public Enemy, but nothing for Run DMC. Chris Isaak, he's there. David Essex who sang "Rock On," he's in there. Frankie Goes to Hollywood is in there (relax, bro). The best mullet in country music, Travis Tritt made the book. Pianist Ray Bryant is on page 156. Saxophone great Joe Henderson is in there. It has NWA, but no Run DMC. Sorry, at over 1500 pages, if you don't have Run DMC, your book sucks and I can't help you.

I don't have anything to say about Manny except Jason Bay.

You gotta watch that Big Baby shot once more. Watch how he shoves the little Magic fan after knocking it down (at 1:00 and 1:20 mark). Hey, Richie Rich, you wanted to be close to the action. This is as close to a posterization as most fans ever get.

And now a send off from Clint's new baby (kid, tike, child, whatever I'm supposed to call them) Jude. Shortly after he was born, he puked on his Root Down Bongo tee. Clint said that it stood as a commentary on how Jude felt about the Root Down. Well, they can't all be fans. I'll get to meet him this weekend and maybe I can pursuade him, but I don't have a very positive affect on kiddos. I get an email from Clint the other day reading, "I told Jude he shouldn't have disrespected The Rootdown by puking on my shirt and this picture captured his reply."