The other day I wrote about my excitement vis à vi my Cameo Mention in the Wahoo Gazette. As luck would have it, I now seem to have angered the Wahoo Gazetteer through no real fault of my own. Here’s what he had to say in today’s Wahoo:
So I give this “Greg Evans” guy a cameo mention the other day. I often see his name in the alt.fan.letterman newsgroup commenting on the show so I decided to give him a mention. This usually results in a cheap Wahoo Gazette plug in the discussion group. Unfortunately, it barely got a blip.
And then I find out that Greg Evans has a website. I checked it out. He spouts how proud he is to have received a cameo mention in the Wahoo Gazette. I was happy to read the shout out. I peruse some more. Down along the right side is a list entitled “Blogs and Such Which I Frequent.” It is a list of 50 blogs and websites Greg Evans likes to read. The Wahoo Gazette is not one of them. Can you believe it? Greg Evans claims to be a fan of David Letterman since his daytime show back in 1980, so how can he not frequent the Wahoo Gazette? It makes no sense. He mentions Dave Yoder’s Letterman website. He does not mention the Wahoo Gazette. Misdirected energy, I say.
And what hurts even more . . . . . Greg Evans writes about his Cameo Mention in the Wahoo Gazette . . . and it receives no comments from his readers . . . if he HAS any readers!
http://www.gsevans.com/blog/
The Wahoo Cameo Committee is presently considering rescinding Mr. Evans’ Cameo Mention.
And here is a snippet of my response, as posted to AFL:
In all honesty, I tried quite some time ago to add a link to the Wahoo, but couldn’t figure out a way to link to it directly since the URL’s are dynamically generated. I did figure it out though.
I’ve added it to my links, I sure hope they don’t rescind
my Cameo Mention!
I can’t believe MikeMack went here:
Greg Evans writes about his Cameo Mention in the Wahoo Gazette . . . and it receives no comments from his readers . . . if he HAS any readers!
Sure I have readers! They’re called web-crawlers, bots and
spiders!
Why must you build me up, only to tear me down, MikeMack, why?
Last night it was Steve Earle at the Southern Theater in Columbus.
I’d never been to the Southern Theater, but it looks lovely on the website. Upon arrival I’m quite pleased that there’s a parking garage directly across the street which is offering $3.00 “Special Event” parking. Can’t beat that. I pick my ticket up at Will Call and make my way in. The place is gorgeous! My seat is in the front row, almost uncomfortably close for an intimate acoustic show such as this.
Allison Moorer was amazing. I’d have to say that she’s probably the most gifted technically of any of the singers I’ve ever heard live. She really showcased her voice on her version of Patti Smith’s “Dancing Barefoot”, as well as on Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now”. I think I may have to pick up her new album, Mockingbird, whereupon she pays tribute to some of her favorite female singer-songwriters. Thanks to this performance, I think Allison Moorer has earned a place on my ‘favorite female singer-songwriter’ list.
When the lights went down for Steve Earle, Steve wasted no time, bounding to the stage and immediately launching into “Steve’s Last Ramble”. What we have here is a quieter, dare I say, gentler Steve Earle. Through the course of the night he spoke of politics only briefly. I loved his line that he knew that if there were a candidate he supported the best thing he could do for them was “stay as far the fuck away as I can from ‘em”. You can tell that the angry young man still dwells within (which Steve alluded to, saying he’s “working on a bunch of shit”), but for now he’s been pushed to the background by a Steve Earle who seems very much in love with (his wife) Allison Moorer, his adopted home of New York City, and of course, just playing music.
He played much of his set unaccompanied, then was joined by a DJ (yes a DJ, dropping beats and what-not) for a few songs. There has been some pretty heated discussion of Steve’s choice to use a DJ, but I really felt like it worked. I don’t know that I’d want the DJ out there for the whole set, but for the songs he played on (such as “Satellite Radio”, “Oxycontin Blues”, “CCKMP” and “Transcendental Blues”) it worked perfectly, to my ear.
Allison Moorer also came back out, lending her guitar playing and beautiful voice to a few tunes, including the lovely duet “Day’s Aren’t Long Enough” from Washington Square Serenade.
One of the highlights of the night for me was when Steve (unaccompanied) played the powerful “Billy Austin”. The intimate venue, being so close to the stage, it was truly transcendent. Another high point was Steve’s amazing guitar picking on “Tom Ames’ Prayer”, the constant touring has definitely kept his chops honed. I also got a good laugh when, after playing “City of Immigrants” Steve said; “In case your wondering, this instrument is called a bouzouki everywhere except airport security. There it’s ‘a banjo or something’.”
All in all, a fantastic show; 3 hours well spent.
I hit the Waffle House on the way home for some coffee, hashbrowns, and a ham & cheese omelet. The perfect ending to a great night.
Speaking of Letterman, this week is ‘Magician Week’, which prompted me to renew my search for a comedy routine I remember from the late 80’s or early 90’s which I’ve been looking for (obviously not hard enough) for years. 5 minutes of Googling earlier tonight and I’d found it:
As I’ve doubtless mentioned before, I’m a big David Letterman fan. Have been since his morning show days nearly 28 years ago (boy, that doesn’t make me feel old… no, not at all). Anyway, imagine my delight when I was catching up on my Wahoo Gazette reading and discovered that the May 1st ‘Cameo Mention of a Wahoo Reader’ was me!
Man, I really like Woot. If you aren’t familiar with Woot, it’s a website that sells one item every day, usually at tremendous savings. A while back I snagged 3 2G SD memory cards for $26, shipped. Today’s Woot is a Reebok Precision Trainer XT Heart Rate Monitor for $25 once you add shipping.
Just what a compulsive list maker and spread-sheet user like me needs, more data to track!
If you want to get in on the heart rate monitoring fun, hurry. This deal is only good today (Friday).
Today “they” came and mowed the grass. Right after they finished I looked out the back window to see how they’d done and lo and behold, there were my old friends, the three weird ducks, making themselves quite at home. I don’t know what draws them to my yard, but they’ve been visiting from time to time for years.
Back in the middle of March my mother was in town for the weekend of my birthday. While we were driving around one day I spotted (and heard) a Red-winged Blackbird, the first one I’d seen this year. I related to her how hearing them always reminds me of my Grandmother (her mother).
Every summer when I was a kid she (my Grandmother) would rent a cottage for the two of us on Lake LBJ. The cattails at the water’s edge were always full of Red-winged Blackbirds, singing that most-distinctive song of theirs. Anyway, to this day whenever I hear one, it takes me right back there. To simpler, happier times; fishing with Lala.
Well a couple of weeks after that (once it warmed up enough to start keeping the windows open), I was surprized to hear a Red-winged Blackbird right outside my apartment. I’ve lived here roughly 6 years and this is the first time we’ve had any RWBB’s. Apparently they’ve decided to nest here for some reason. There are at least 3-4 males and a few females and every morning bright and early and then again at dusk the air is filled with their unmistakable calls.
If you’ve really been paying attention, you might remember me mentioning that I bought tickets for the Steve Earle concert in Columbus during the ‘pre-sale’.
I just got confirmation on my seat assignment.
Pit Section
Row AA
(I’m not telling you which seats; army of web-stalkers).
That’s right, just like the great Bob Uecker
“I must be in the front row!” (How many times do you think I’ll use that line that night?)
David Letterman had as his guest Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas. Strangely, instead of the typical interview, they were playing a game that was a cross between miniature golf and soccer, which involved them scooting about on desk chairs while avoiding various obstacles and trying to kick golf balls (they each had their own) into sequentially numbered hole/basket/goals. This game was created by Jerry Lewis, who had appeared earlier to (somewhat comically, somewhat disturbingly) explain it.
As the two of them played the game Paul and the band accompanied the action with calliope “clown music” (I wish I knew the name of the tune; it’s instantly recognizable). They were neck and neck coming down toward the final goal when Dave grabbed the arm of CT’s chair with one hand then with his other hand reached into CT’s suit jacket pocket where there was an asthma inhaler which he discharged 6 or 7 times (as a diversion?)
This allowed Dave to kick the winning goal, whereupon he shouted “35 points!! In your face, Thomas!” (No, I have no idea how he arrived at the 35 point figure.)
What does this all mean?
It could just mean that I’m nuts; or it could simply indicate that when a medication cautions it may cause “vivid dreams” what they really mean is “weird-ass dreams”.
That’s not so much a side-effect as it is a ‘bonus’ in my book. I mean seriously, if you gotta have side effects, that’s not a bad one to get.
I know I’m officially “middle aged”. While I don’t necessarily embrace the fact, I do (begrudgingly) accept it and even think of myself as such (from time to time).
I was stunned by my reaction when Fritz over at Commute by Bike referred to me as “This middle aged man“. I wasn’t surprized that he wrote it, but I was quite shocked by how much it stung, if only just for an instant, seeing it in print. Ahh… the power of the printed word!
Oh and Fritz, you’re still missing the point of my story. It wasn’t about being complimented by a teenaged girl. It was about her subsequent mortification and embarrassment. The compliment was just the icing on the cake.
So, I finally got my lazy ass out on a bike. JW knows (or can deduce) how shamefully long it’s been, but I’m hoping he’ll keep that to himself.
With my lack of conditioning and whatnot, I originally planned a leisurely ride with gears, but the cyclometer on the Fuji was dead and everyone knows that battery changing is an after-dark or rainy day activity, so I was ridin’ fixed on the Svelte Felt.
What is it about riding, particularly on the fixed gear that makes it so hard to “take it easy”? Every incline becomes the finish at Alpe d’Huez, every signpost an intermediate sprint (for time bonuses and valuable prizes, natch!)
Of course, I was slower than usual, but all things considered, I felt surprizingly good and my spin has remained remarkably smooth (26.2MPH @ 42×16 on 25mm tires, that’s just shy of 130RPM, bike-math geeks, not too shabby (for me)).
Later I was looking over some old ride logs, seeing entries like rides home from work at 14° with 25mph winds and wet, slushy roads. Man, I gotta stop with the “it’s too wet/cold/windy BS”, harden the fuck up, stop making excuses, and ride!
I know that most, if not all, cyclists have our tales of forgetting to unclip from our pedals, thus toppling over in super-comical slow-motion in front of various pedestrians, motorists, and other cyclists. CycleDog shared one of his, which led me to post this counter-point, as it were.
I won’t deny that I’ve had my share of those mortifying incidents, but that isn’t what this post is about. This is about the much more satisfying converse of that situation, that special moment in time when we get to revel in the discomfort and embarrassment of another.
A few years ago I was riding here in town when a car whizzed past, as it did the unmistakable voice of a teenaged girl yelled “Nice butt!”
As the car went past I could see only the driver, raptly looking straight ahead. The fates intervened, however, and there was a light changing to red just up ahead. The car stopped and moments later, I rolled up on the passenger side. There a second teenage girl (obviously the ’shouter’) was ducked down in the passenger seat, giggling and thinking herself invisible. With me being on my bike, however, she was nothing of the kind and I was looking right down upon her, not even a window separating us.
The driver was also keenly aware of this situation and was furtively whispering at and prodding her friend.
The friend slowly looked up, our eyes met, and I smiled, giving her a slight ‘tsk tsk’ headshake.
I’d give anything for a photo of that moment. Her face turned such an extreme shade of red, it seemed almost painful.
Thankfully for her, the light quickly turned green and they sped away. The driver, no longer able to contain her mirth, burst into peals of hysterical laughter.
I try to remember that day; that priceless expression, when some idiot yells at me to “get off the road”, squeezes past much too closely, or any of the myriad other abuses we all suffer on a nearly daily basis.
, whereupon she pays tribute to some of her favorite female singer-songwriters. Thanks to this performance, I think Allison Moorer has earned a place on my ‘favorite female singer-songwriter’ list.
