So I have this friend. This friend is always asking me to borrow CDs in order to burn them. The friend is admittedly not well off, but always seems to have enough money to buy a cd from f*@!ing Be@st Buy- the latest by Amy Win3house or some other artist that doesn't need this friend's money. But the friend never, EVER buys CDs from local bands, or from touring bands that need to buy gas. And this friend never pays to get into shows, either.
So what do I say? Mostly because I am a big fat wuss and I don't enjoy confrontation, I have passed on some of my favorite CDs to this person, and this person has burned them, and then they proceed to tell the band how great they are, and what a big fan the person is, the next time they play in town. It makes me a little mad. It makes me a lot mad, actually, but I don't quite know how to say no. It would be different if the person had never heard the band, and I was trying to convince them to listen. Then no problem. I have had this experience several times, and when I like the band (as in the case of the ever fabulous Okkervil River) I usually end up giving them a lot of money. In fact, with Okkervil, I (we, actually, since the b.h. is a huge fan as well)have purchased two shirts, all of their CDs, and a couple of their records on vinyl. In addition, I have traveled to see them and paid to get in to several shows. I also burned a copy of their disc for other people who I thought would like them, and AJ not only bought shirts and CDs, but he's trying to put one of their songs in his movie, which would be a huge boon for everybody. So burning is not always a bad thing. But this particular person does not get it. I read a really great piece last year by a music writer (was that your friend Carl, J?)about how buying music and going to shows is a music fan's way of patronizing the arts. I think I even blogged a link to the piece because I thought it was so important.
Now I feel that it is time to put my money where my mouth is. So the new rule? You can't burn anything I own by a band that isn't riding in a fucking tour bus and mugging on MTV. And I really don't own any of that anyway, so you're S.O.L. Unless, of course, I am proselytizing. In which case, burn away.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Monday, May 28, 2007
Still here!
(No thanks to Michael Chabon.) So in the interest of trying to continue my catchup, here are a few more items:
Two weeks ago, a bird flew into the house. (In continuing my tradition of talking about pictures I can't show you, I will tell you that we have several. And he was cute.) He came right in the kitchen door, which was very easy because I have yet to fix the screen that came off just before the Bird Incident. Luckily for the bird, the dogs were outside. And lucky for us, he flew upstairs into our bedroom, which has a balcony door. So we shut the door to the rest of the house and proceeded to hop up and down alternately on the bed, the dresser, and a lovely antique trunk (which I will also not be posting photos of), waving our arms and trying to gently get him out to freedom. This went on for some time. Remarkably, he managed not to poop on the bed, the furniture, or either of us. He kept landing up high and almost getting out the door, perching just above the frame or hanging jauntily from the portable screen, as if mocking us. The only thing better than photos of said bird would be video of myself and the b.h. trying to shoo him outside. Alas, you have neither, which makes this story a lot less interesting.
On the garden front, my peppers are taking for-fucking-ever to get going. This is intensely frustrating as I have spent much time and energy (and money, which I don't even want to think about at the moment) growing the little buggers from seed, dragging them in and out of the house to protect them from the elements, finally forming actual beds with actual soil, planting them in nutrient rich soil, only to find them crawling along. Ugh. This is largely due to the insane drought our state is currently experiencing, (which is also fueling the now famous wildfires, which span both Georgia and Florida, and are damaging my lungs on a daily basis), as the plants are not fond ( I only recently learned) of our incredibly chlorinated tap water. So short of buying an expensive filtration sysytem for the garden spigot, i am relegated to watering, mulching, and feeding (the organic fertilizer I bought smells like a corpse. Come to think of it, there's probably a reason for that...)the little buggers, all I can do is hope that the rain eventually comes, and that when it does it doesn't wash them away. Mostly this is frustrating me because it is preventing me from participating in the Farmer's Market, and I really, really want to be involved.
On a better note, the rock has continued to roll here in our fair city. The fabulous Fleshtones graced the stage at tasty World last week. I had missed them the last time around, and when I asked Murphy (the owner of said establishment) why the lead singer looked so familiar, he said, "Well, he did host 120 Minutes for a long time." No shit? Wow! So the show that was arguably the most responsible for broadening my musical horizons and making me the woman I am today was hosted by that guy? Awesome. They were really great- lively and loud, and dancing on the bar (in the good way, not in the Will-fucking-Hogue, pretend spontineity way (Have I mentioned how much that guy sucks? Well he does. Stay away.) So yeah. I look forward to their return.
The real surprise came the next night. J. Roddy Walston and the Business opened a show and completely blew me away. I was ecstatic. They were so good that my friend K, who is a sound guy (which means he's more jaded about bands than I am), even liked it. I bought a shirt and a CD, and I have not stopped talking about them since. Wow. In my job, that's the best thing you can hope for, really. Having a band you have never heard of or heard anything about just come in and kick your ass is about the best feeling there is. I can't wait until they come back.
I had another interview with the National Coffee Chain. Lots of people have been aghast when i mentioned seeking employment there, but I have to say that insurance is sounding pretty attractive to me right now. I haven't seen a doctor (aside from the the ones at the Emergency Room) in eight years, and I think the dentist has been nine. And I probably need glasses at this point, too. So yeah, I can froth milk for full coverage. The guy that I had the second interview with was particularly cool. He has visions of community involvement for the NCC, geared mostly toward local and organic food and education, which are two things that I (obviously) care deeply about. He is looking for somebody to help him institute(word choice?) some programs. And sling coffee. Cross your fingers kids. Momma needs a new pair of glasses.
I still haven't decided whether or not I want to apply to the Organic F@rming Certificate program. It's not that I don't feel like it would be useful. It's just that i can't decide if it is $5,000 useful. We'll see.
Okay, so that's it for now. A.J. is in town, so I suspect that this may be my last chance to sit on my ass and read for awhile.
Two weeks ago, a bird flew into the house. (In continuing my tradition of talking about pictures I can't show you, I will tell you that we have several. And he was cute.) He came right in the kitchen door, which was very easy because I have yet to fix the screen that came off just before the Bird Incident. Luckily for the bird, the dogs were outside. And lucky for us, he flew upstairs into our bedroom, which has a balcony door. So we shut the door to the rest of the house and proceeded to hop up and down alternately on the bed, the dresser, and a lovely antique trunk (which I will also not be posting photos of), waving our arms and trying to gently get him out to freedom. This went on for some time. Remarkably, he managed not to poop on the bed, the furniture, or either of us. He kept landing up high and almost getting out the door, perching just above the frame or hanging jauntily from the portable screen, as if mocking us. The only thing better than photos of said bird would be video of myself and the b.h. trying to shoo him outside. Alas, you have neither, which makes this story a lot less interesting.
On the garden front, my peppers are taking for-fucking-ever to get going. This is intensely frustrating as I have spent much time and energy (and money, which I don't even want to think about at the moment) growing the little buggers from seed, dragging them in and out of the house to protect them from the elements, finally forming actual beds with actual soil, planting them in nutrient rich soil, only to find them crawling along. Ugh. This is largely due to the insane drought our state is currently experiencing, (which is also fueling the now famous wildfires, which span both Georgia and Florida, and are damaging my lungs on a daily basis), as the plants are not fond ( I only recently learned) of our incredibly chlorinated tap water. So short of buying an expensive filtration sysytem for the garden spigot, i am relegated to watering, mulching, and feeding (the organic fertilizer I bought smells like a corpse. Come to think of it, there's probably a reason for that...)the little buggers, all I can do is hope that the rain eventually comes, and that when it does it doesn't wash them away. Mostly this is frustrating me because it is preventing me from participating in the Farmer's Market, and I really, really want to be involved.
On a better note, the rock has continued to roll here in our fair city. The fabulous Fleshtones graced the stage at tasty World last week. I had missed them the last time around, and when I asked Murphy (the owner of said establishment) why the lead singer looked so familiar, he said, "Well, he did host 120 Minutes for a long time." No shit? Wow! So the show that was arguably the most responsible for broadening my musical horizons and making me the woman I am today was hosted by that guy? Awesome. They were really great- lively and loud, and dancing on the bar (in the good way, not in the Will-fucking-Hogue, pretend spontineity way (Have I mentioned how much that guy sucks? Well he does. Stay away.) So yeah. I look forward to their return.
The real surprise came the next night. J. Roddy Walston and the Business opened a show and completely blew me away. I was ecstatic. They were so good that my friend K, who is a sound guy (which means he's more jaded about bands than I am), even liked it. I bought a shirt and a CD, and I have not stopped talking about them since. Wow. In my job, that's the best thing you can hope for, really. Having a band you have never heard of or heard anything about just come in and kick your ass is about the best feeling there is. I can't wait until they come back.
I had another interview with the National Coffee Chain. Lots of people have been aghast when i mentioned seeking employment there, but I have to say that insurance is sounding pretty attractive to me right now. I haven't seen a doctor (aside from the the ones at the Emergency Room) in eight years, and I think the dentist has been nine. And I probably need glasses at this point, too. So yeah, I can froth milk for full coverage. The guy that I had the second interview with was particularly cool. He has visions of community involvement for the NCC, geared mostly toward local and organic food and education, which are two things that I (obviously) care deeply about. He is looking for somebody to help him institute(word choice?) some programs. And sling coffee. Cross your fingers kids. Momma needs a new pair of glasses.
I still haven't decided whether or not I want to apply to the Organic F@rming Certificate program. It's not that I don't feel like it would be useful. It's just that i can't decide if it is $5,000 useful. We'll see.
Okay, so that's it for now. A.J. is in town, so I suspect that this may be my last chance to sit on my ass and read for awhile.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Back.
Okay, so I have been gone a long, long time. The reasons are many, including but not limited to a death in the b.h.'s family, a visit from some of my family, computer glitches, and the sheer overwhelming amount of shit I have done. I can't even begin to begin. But here goes:
Dog Hair Cuts. They are adorable, if somewhat less fuzzy. I would love to post some photos, but I can't seem to get my camera and my computer on speaking terms. Suffice to say that Wyatt has gone from mini German Shepherd to fat opossum in no time flat.
The school year has finally ended at UGA, which brings our business down a considerable percentage, making my job less intense and less lucrative in the process. I have been filling my time so far, but not so much the bank account. More on that later.
Rural Mississippi. As depressing as you imagine it, and even hotter. Met the rest of the b.h.'s family. It went well. At least as well as you could hope for under the circumstances.
The Beauvilles. A really excellent rock band that played in town recently, redeeming the state of Florida very slightly in my mind. Check them out.
The Drams. A highlight in an otherwise fairly dark month- got to have dinner with them at our friend J's house, so got to have real conversation as opposed to the kind that we usually get, shouted over the bar between bands. I love those guys more than I can possibly say. You might, too. We also drove to Macon to see them play the next night and it was amazing. The set was like two hours long, and Macon was true to form in that the audience was incredibly enthusiastic despite having never heard the band before. It was great fun. My friend K stayed here with the boys so we could spend the night and take our time getting back. I picked up a lovely cement bust of Elvis along the way. I will also post a photo of that when I get my camera and my computer to reconcile. Oooh- and I managed to get a decent recording of The Drams covering Blue Eyes, a traditional song that is one of my favorites. There is more to tell, but right now I am knee deep in a Michael Chabon novel that I picked up on the bargain shelf at B & N yesterday. More later, promise.
Dog Hair Cuts. They are adorable, if somewhat less fuzzy. I would love to post some photos, but I can't seem to get my camera and my computer on speaking terms. Suffice to say that Wyatt has gone from mini German Shepherd to fat opossum in no time flat.
The school year has finally ended at UGA, which brings our business down a considerable percentage, making my job less intense and less lucrative in the process. I have been filling my time so far, but not so much the bank account. More on that later.
Rural Mississippi. As depressing as you imagine it, and even hotter. Met the rest of the b.h.'s family. It went well. At least as well as you could hope for under the circumstances.
The Beauvilles. A really excellent rock band that played in town recently, redeeming the state of Florida very slightly in my mind. Check them out.
The Drams. A highlight in an otherwise fairly dark month- got to have dinner with them at our friend J's house, so got to have real conversation as opposed to the kind that we usually get, shouted over the bar between bands. I love those guys more than I can possibly say. You might, too. We also drove to Macon to see them play the next night and it was amazing. The set was like two hours long, and Macon was true to form in that the audience was incredibly enthusiastic despite having never heard the band before. It was great fun. My friend K stayed here with the boys so we could spend the night and take our time getting back. I picked up a lovely cement bust of Elvis along the way. I will also post a photo of that when I get my camera and my computer to reconcile. Oooh- and I managed to get a decent recording of The Drams covering Blue Eyes, a traditional song that is one of my favorites. There is more to tell, but right now I am knee deep in a Michael Chabon novel that I picked up on the bargain shelf at B & N yesterday. More later, promise.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Are You Local?
It turns out that my new favorite laundry soap is. Well, local-ish, anyway. It is made in North Carolina, it comes in what amounts to a small brown paper bag, is certified biodegradable, non-toxic, and hypo-allergenic. It doesn't smell like anything, and you only need a tablespoon to wash a whole load of clothes. Yay! It's called Charlies Soap. The label says it "Cleans everything from silk frillies to shop rags."
So yeah- I had a good day at Earthf@re today. They also have a sale on body care products, so I got more cardamom mint foot lotion (drool), and some Tom's fennel toothpaste. Cut some flowers from the garden, weeded, put up a new fence (Kilgore's ability to leap fences continues to astound and frustrate me), and consoled a heartsick friend for about two hours on the phone. Now it's time to turn off the brain, open a beer, and watch a dvd.
Happy Sunday, y'all.
So yeah- I had a good day at Earthf@re today. They also have a sale on body care products, so I got more cardamom mint foot lotion (drool), and some Tom's fennel toothpaste. Cut some flowers from the garden, weeded, put up a new fence (Kilgore's ability to leap fences continues to astound and frustrate me), and consoled a heartsick friend for about two hours on the phone. Now it's time to turn off the brain, open a beer, and watch a dvd.
Happy Sunday, y'all.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Sigh.
I came home and posted after work last night. I don't remember everything I said, but it was a fairly lengthy, definitely snarky, and potentially funny account of last evening's frat-tivities. I don't know how or why, but it got lost. I know I was not drunk (not for lack of desire to drink away the pain, but for lack of time in which to consume the quantity of alcohol that would be required to do so. Plus, I am the designated driver.), but I somehow obviously managed not to hit either the 'save' or 'publish' button. Ah well, such is life. I'm sure it's funnier in my head anyway. Suffice to say that I told a guy that i was going to "Come over the bar and hurt (him)", and then truned and sweetly asked somebody's dad "What can I get for you, darlin'?"
We watched a documentary yesterday called This Film Is Not Yet Rated. It is reviewed and critiqued very well over at hyperbolically challenged, the link to which is to your left. I will just say that it was interesting and informative, and made me wish for the umpteenth time that I lived somewhere else.
We watched a documentary yesterday called This Film Is Not Yet Rated. It is reviewed and critiqued very well over at hyperbolically challenged, the link to which is to your left. I will just say that it was interesting and informative, and made me wish for the umpteenth time that I lived somewhere else.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Mayday.
That's Mayday, as in S.O.S., not rites of Spring and whatnot. I have been at a creative low ebb. I (gasp) don't feel as if I have anything to say. I have been a bad, bad blogger. I don't mean to be both sporadic and boring, but honestly I just can't think of anything interesting to talk about at the moment. I did finally get the garden mulch, but one truckload turned out to be less than I thought it would be, so I have to get another truckload before I can plant. I did manage to get some fennell in the ground. It has to have its own bed because it doesn't play well with others. Cross your fingers for me that it takes. I absolutely love the stuff.
We did get to see Spider Man 3 the other night. Can't get into too much detail, as I never know who might be lurking online, but we have a friend who works at a local theater and occasionally will preview something at 3am. We liked it a lot. But then, I'm pretty easy when it comes to super hero flicks. Venom looked cool and scary, the Sand Man CGI was absolutely killer. I have seen some shitty reviews of this movie. Somebody said it was "over the top"(?). I personally find that hilarious, because in my humble opinion, it's what these movies are about.
Somewhere in the middle of that movie I started feeling pretty gross, and by the end I had a full-fledged cold, which I am still nursing. So too tired to think of more fun stuff to say. Many thanks to Z for giving me both reading material and eye candy whilst I cough and weeze and consume much tea.
We did get to see Spider Man 3 the other night. Can't get into too much detail, as I never know who might be lurking online, but we have a friend who works at a local theater and occasionally will preview something at 3am. We liked it a lot. But then, I'm pretty easy when it comes to super hero flicks. Venom looked cool and scary, the Sand Man CGI was absolutely killer. I have seen some shitty reviews of this movie. Somebody said it was "over the top"(?). I personally find that hilarious, because in my humble opinion, it's what these movies are about.
Somewhere in the middle of that movie I started feeling pretty gross, and by the end I had a full-fledged cold, which I am still nursing. So too tired to think of more fun stuff to say. Many thanks to Z for giving me both reading material and eye candy whilst I cough and weeze and consume much tea.
More reasons to love the British...
Why are people here so shocked by this word? It's so appropriate.
Running The World
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Running The World
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Monday, April 30, 2007
Yawn, stretch.
It is now thirty-six hours since I have last slung a drink. I feel like I may recover from the weekend eventually, but here's hoping that at least I won't have a repeat anytime soon. Twenty-five cent drinks can't get over the bar fast enough. That was Thursday night. Animals in suburban camoflauge (kakhis and polo shirts and those shirts that make all the college girls look knocked up).
Friday was fine, I guess, but I was too tired from Thursday to really enjoy it. Saturday I was apparently so rude to a girl (I took away a beer that she brought in to the bar - a beer we don't serve) that she decided to write about it on her credit card slip. Bitch tipped us less than ten percent anyway, and had the nerve to designate it specifically to J in her note because I was so awful. Oooooh, thanks. We'll make sure he doesn't spend all of that in one place.
Other than that I spent a bunch of time in the yard again. Still don't have the veggies in the ground, but I'm hoping to deal with that this week.
Looks like the b.h. and I might head up to TwangFest in St. Louis in June. Blue Mountain is supposed to reunite for a show there, and even if they don't I want to see Centro-matic and Tim Easton. That weekend happens to be T's birthday, too, if I'm not mistaken. He's going to meet us there.
I am looking into the Organic Farming prograqm that they're starting at UGA this year. Not sure if I need to be a full-time UGA student in order to participate, or if there is a non-student program. Either way I'm interested. Seems like a logical step.
I know this is another boring post, but honestly, the weather is too nice for me to hang out and be clever indoors.
Friday was fine, I guess, but I was too tired from Thursday to really enjoy it. Saturday I was apparently so rude to a girl (I took away a beer that she brought in to the bar - a beer we don't serve) that she decided to write about it on her credit card slip. Bitch tipped us less than ten percent anyway, and had the nerve to designate it specifically to J in her note because I was so awful. Oooooh, thanks. We'll make sure he doesn't spend all of that in one place.
Other than that I spent a bunch of time in the yard again. Still don't have the veggies in the ground, but I'm hoping to deal with that this week.
Looks like the b.h. and I might head up to TwangFest in St. Louis in June. Blue Mountain is supposed to reunite for a show there, and even if they don't I want to see Centro-matic and Tim Easton. That weekend happens to be T's birthday, too, if I'm not mistaken. He's going to meet us there.
I am looking into the Organic Farming prograqm that they're starting at UGA this year. Not sure if I need to be a full-time UGA student in order to participate, or if there is a non-student program. Either way I'm interested. Seems like a logical step.
I know this is another boring post, but honestly, the weather is too nice for me to hang out and be clever indoors.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Heh Heh Heh.
Either this thing is skewed, or the b.h. is totally gay. I cut and pasted several random entries into this thing and I came up solidly male every time. Maybe this is why I hate "chick-lit" so much.
http://bookblog.net/gender/analysis.php
http://bookblog.net/gender/analysis.php
Hubbub.
So I'm standing in the walk-in cooler, sending A.J. a text message about the lovely crowd of mouth-breathing frat kids who are drinking 25 cent well drinks. I do this because I know he will find the humor in it, and because I miss him and I want him to know that we are thinking of him (and his lovely wife, who I never see). Suddenly, I hear a loud crash and the light inside the cooler goes out. It seems that the cheap liquor has finally done its work, and there is a bit of a brawl outside the door. After groping my way to the door, I managed to shove it open and grabbed the first guy I saw (happened to be D, one of my favorite co-workers). Then I grabbed the next guy I saw around the waist, dragging him from a pile of sweaty, meaty drunks and shouting "Whoa! Whoa!" to very little effect. Thankfully, we had a crack door staff tonight, with our old door guy T making a brief return and D back from a "professional bike tour" (I can't write that without quotes because it's just too silly), as well as the best of our current lineup. So they got it taken care of right away. Nobody had any idea what started the whole thing (except those of us who knew how much liquor had gone across the bar), but it didn't slow things down for long.
I am completely losing my train of thought right now. Guess I should try to eat and sleep. More later, I suppose.
I am completely losing my train of thought right now. Guess I should try to eat and sleep. More later, I suppose.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Fancy.
See? I can find endless ways to avoid actual posting! Had a lot of trouble putting up a pic- couldn't get one to fit where I wanted it, so I skipped it. DO check out the video to the left, though. The band is The Glands, who are possibly the best thing ever to come out of Athens, and it was made by my friend J, who is a bit of a genius.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Copout.
I just want to say that I am feeling quite guilty about my utter lack of posting. I blame A.J. because he was in town and therefore I went out every night. It was fun. I also got a lot of gardening done. There will be photos. Jamie's first farmer's market finally happened last Wednesday, too. I was there. I think I accidentally erased the only photo I took of it. Crap. Well, there's another one tomorrow, so we'll see. And I promise I will get around to updating and uploading and whatnot. Eventually.
Baggage.
After reading both the new issue of Vanity Fair (the annual green issue) and the new Wired, as well as a couple of back issues of Dwell, all of which touched on the environment and how we're mucking it up right now, i was pleased to find that our best local grocery store has finally come out with reusable shopping bags.
I realize that there was never a law against bringing your own bags to the store, but these are specifically made for groceries, and I now have absolutely no excuse* for using plastic bags. In our defense, the b.h. and I do manage to recycle most of our grocery bags anyway- we use them to line our bathroom and bedroom trash cans, and for dog walking purposes, but now we don't have to. Check this thing out:
It holds a lot of canned goods, as well as a large bag of coffee, potato chips, and a pint of half and half, with no sign of struggle (the bottom is slightly reinforced) and room to spare. Kick ass. I hope all stores start doing this.
*Except for my terrible memory, which I will attempt to circumvent by simply keeping the bags in the car at all times.
I realize that there was never a law against bringing your own bags to the store, but these are specifically made for groceries, and I now have absolutely no excuse* for using plastic bags. In our defense, the b.h. and I do manage to recycle most of our grocery bags anyway- we use them to line our bathroom and bedroom trash cans, and for dog walking purposes, but now we don't have to. Check this thing out:
It holds a lot of canned goods, as well as a large bag of coffee, potato chips, and a pint of half and half, with no sign of struggle (the bottom is slightly reinforced) and room to spare. Kick ass. I hope all stores start doing this.
*Except for my terrible memory, which I will attempt to circumvent by simply keeping the bags in the car at all times.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Satisfaction.
There's just something about a good heavy rain* falling on a freshly planted flower bed.
*This photo is pre-rain, and a bit old actually. And you can't see anything, so it's relatively pointless. But uploading it and adding it to this old post made me feel like I was doing something, as opposed to fucking off, like I have been. Ah well. The bed is even more full now. I'll get back to taking photos soon now that I have finally uploaded all the ones that have been in the camera for ages.
Well Said.
"No matter how corrupt, greedy and heartless our government, our corporations, our media, and our religious and charitable institutions may become, the music will still be wonderful.If I should ever die, God forbid, let this be my epitaph:
THE ONLY PROOF HE NEEDED FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD WAS MUSIC"
-Kurt Vonnegut (1922-2007)
THE ONLY PROOF HE NEEDED FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD WAS MUSIC"
-Kurt Vonnegut (1922-2007)
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Devastated.
There are no other words, really. First Hunter Thompson, then Molly Ivins, and now this:
Novelist Kurt Vonnegut dies at 84
POSTED: 1:46 a.m. EDT, April 12, 2007
By CRISTIAN SALAZAR, Associated Press Writer1 hour, 8 minutes ago
Kurt Vonnegut, the satirical novelist who captured the absurdity of war and questioned the advances of science in darkly humorous works such as "Slaughterhouse-Five" and "Cat's Cradle," died Wednesday. He was 84.
Vonnegut, who often marveled that he had lived so long despite his lifelong smoking habit, had suffered brain injuries after a fall at his Manhattan home weeks ago, said his wife, photographer Jill Krementz.
The author of at least 19 novels, many of them best-sellers, as well as dozens of short stories, essays and plays, Vonnegut relished the role of a social critic. Indianapolis, his hometown, declared 2007 as "The Year of Vonnegut" — an announcement he said left him "thunderstruck."
He lectured regularly, exhorting audiences to think for themselves and delighting in barbed commentary against the institutions he felt were dehumanizing people.
"I will say anything to be funny, often in the most horrible situations," Vonnegut, whose watery, heavy-lidded eyes and unruly hair made him seem to be in existential pain, once told a gathering of psychiatrists.
A self-described religious skeptic and freethinking humanist, Vonnegut used protagonists such as Billy Pilgrim and Eliot Rosewater as transparent vehicles for his points of view. He also filled his novels with satirical commentary and even drawings that were only loosely connected to the plot. In "Slaughterhouse-Five," he drew a headstone with the epitaph: "Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt."
But much in his life was traumatic, and left him in pain.
Despite his commercial success, Vonnegut battled depression throughout his life, and in 1984, he attempted suicide with pills and alcohol, joking later about how he botched the job.
"I think he was a man who combined a wicked sense of humor and sort of steady moral compass, who was always sort of looking at the big picture of the things that were most important," said Joel Bleifuss, editor of In These Times, a liberal magazine based in Chicago that featured Vonnegut articles.
His mother killed herself just before he left for Germany during World War II, where he was quickly taken prisoner during the Battle of the Bulge. He was being held in Dresden when Allied bombs created a firestorm that killed an estimated tens of thousands of people.
"The firebombing of Dresden explains absolutely nothing about why I write what I write and am what I am," Vonnegut wrote in "Fates Worse Than Death," his 1991 autobiography of sorts.
But he spent 23 years struggling to write about the ordeal, which he survived by huddling with other POW's inside an underground meat locker labeled slaughterhouse-five.
The novel, in which Pvt. Pilgrim is transported from Dresden by time-traveling aliens from the planet Tralfamadore, was published at the height of the Vietnam War, and solidified his reputation as an iconoclast.
"He was sort of like nobody else," said Gore Vidal, who noted that he, Vonnegut and Norman Mailer were among the last writers around who served in World War II.
"He was imaginative; our generation of writers didn't go in for imagination very much. Literary realism was the general style. Those of us who came out of the war in the 1940s made it sort of the official American prose, and it was often a bit on the dull side. Kurt was never dull."
Vonnegut was born on Nov. 11, 1922, in Indianapolis, a "fourth-generation German-American religious skeptic Freethinker," and studied chemistry at Cornell University before joining the Army.
When he returned, he reported for Chicago's City News Bureau, then did public relations for General Electric, a job he loathed. He wrote his first novel, "Player Piano," in 1951, followed by "The Sirens of Titan," "Canary in a Cat House" and "Mother Night," making ends meet by selling Saabs on Cape Cod.
Critics ignored him at first, then denigrated his deliberately bizarre stories and disjointed plots as haphazardly written science fiction. But his novels became cult classics, especially "Cat's Cradle" in 1963, in which scientists create "ice-nine," a crystal that turns water solid and destroys the earth.
Many of his novels were best-sellers. Some also were banned and burned for suspected obscenity. Vonnegut took on censorship as an active member of the PEN writers' aid group and the American Civil Liberties Union. The American Humanist Association, which promotes individual freedom, rational thought and scientific skepticism, made him its honorary president.
His characters tended to be miserable anti-heros with little control over their fate. Vonnegut said the villains in his books were never individuals, but culture, society and history, which he said were making a mess of the planet.
"We probably could have saved ourselves, but we were too damned lazy to try very hard... and too damn cheap," he once suggested carving into a wall on the Grand Canyon, as a message for flying-saucer creatures.
He retired from novel writing in his later years, but continued to publish short articles. He had a best-seller in 2005 with "A Man Without a Country," a collection of his nonfiction work, including jabs at the Bush administration ("upper-crust C-students who know no history or geography") and the uncertain future of the planet.
He called the book's success "a nice glass of champagne at the end of a life."
In recent years, Vonnegut worked as a senior editor and columnist at In These Times. Bleifuss said he had been trying to get Vonnegut to write something more for the magazine, but was unsuccessful.
"He would just say he's too old and that he had nothing more to say. He realized, I think, he was at the end of his life," Bleifuss said.
Vonnegut, who had homes in Manhattan and the Hamptons in New York, adopted his sister's three young children after she died. He also had three children of his own with his first wife, Ann Cox, and later adopted a daughter, Lily, with his second wife, the noted photographer Jill Krementz.
Vonnegut once said that of all the ways to die, he'd prefer to go out in an airplane crash on the peak of Mount Kilimanjaro. He often joked about the difficulties of old age.
"When Hemingway killed himself he put a period at the end of his life; old age is more like a semicolon," Vonnegut told The Associated Press in 2005.
"My father, like Hemingway, was a gun nut and was very unhappy late in life. But he was proud of not committing suicide. And I'll do the same, so as not to set a bad example for my children."
___
Associated Press writers Michael Warren, Hillel Italie and Chelsea Carter contributed to this report.
I have to go now.
Novelist Kurt Vonnegut dies at 84
POSTED: 1:46 a.m. EDT, April 12, 2007
By CRISTIAN SALAZAR, Associated Press Writer1 hour, 8 minutes ago
Kurt Vonnegut, the satirical novelist who captured the absurdity of war and questioned the advances of science in darkly humorous works such as "Slaughterhouse-Five" and "Cat's Cradle," died Wednesday. He was 84.
Vonnegut, who often marveled that he had lived so long despite his lifelong smoking habit, had suffered brain injuries after a fall at his Manhattan home weeks ago, said his wife, photographer Jill Krementz.
The author of at least 19 novels, many of them best-sellers, as well as dozens of short stories, essays and plays, Vonnegut relished the role of a social critic. Indianapolis, his hometown, declared 2007 as "The Year of Vonnegut" — an announcement he said left him "thunderstruck."
He lectured regularly, exhorting audiences to think for themselves and delighting in barbed commentary against the institutions he felt were dehumanizing people.
"I will say anything to be funny, often in the most horrible situations," Vonnegut, whose watery, heavy-lidded eyes and unruly hair made him seem to be in existential pain, once told a gathering of psychiatrists.
A self-described religious skeptic and freethinking humanist, Vonnegut used protagonists such as Billy Pilgrim and Eliot Rosewater as transparent vehicles for his points of view. He also filled his novels with satirical commentary and even drawings that were only loosely connected to the plot. In "Slaughterhouse-Five," he drew a headstone with the epitaph: "Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt."
But much in his life was traumatic, and left him in pain.
Despite his commercial success, Vonnegut battled depression throughout his life, and in 1984, he attempted suicide with pills and alcohol, joking later about how he botched the job.
"I think he was a man who combined a wicked sense of humor and sort of steady moral compass, who was always sort of looking at the big picture of the things that were most important," said Joel Bleifuss, editor of In These Times, a liberal magazine based in Chicago that featured Vonnegut articles.
His mother killed herself just before he left for Germany during World War II, where he was quickly taken prisoner during the Battle of the Bulge. He was being held in Dresden when Allied bombs created a firestorm that killed an estimated tens of thousands of people.
"The firebombing of Dresden explains absolutely nothing about why I write what I write and am what I am," Vonnegut wrote in "Fates Worse Than Death," his 1991 autobiography of sorts.
But he spent 23 years struggling to write about the ordeal, which he survived by huddling with other POW's inside an underground meat locker labeled slaughterhouse-five.
The novel, in which Pvt. Pilgrim is transported from Dresden by time-traveling aliens from the planet Tralfamadore, was published at the height of the Vietnam War, and solidified his reputation as an iconoclast.
"He was sort of like nobody else," said Gore Vidal, who noted that he, Vonnegut and Norman Mailer were among the last writers around who served in World War II.
"He was imaginative; our generation of writers didn't go in for imagination very much. Literary realism was the general style. Those of us who came out of the war in the 1940s made it sort of the official American prose, and it was often a bit on the dull side. Kurt was never dull."
Vonnegut was born on Nov. 11, 1922, in Indianapolis, a "fourth-generation German-American religious skeptic Freethinker," and studied chemistry at Cornell University before joining the Army.
When he returned, he reported for Chicago's City News Bureau, then did public relations for General Electric, a job he loathed. He wrote his first novel, "Player Piano," in 1951, followed by "The Sirens of Titan," "Canary in a Cat House" and "Mother Night," making ends meet by selling Saabs on Cape Cod.
Critics ignored him at first, then denigrated his deliberately bizarre stories and disjointed plots as haphazardly written science fiction. But his novels became cult classics, especially "Cat's Cradle" in 1963, in which scientists create "ice-nine," a crystal that turns water solid and destroys the earth.
Many of his novels were best-sellers. Some also were banned and burned for suspected obscenity. Vonnegut took on censorship as an active member of the PEN writers' aid group and the American Civil Liberties Union. The American Humanist Association, which promotes individual freedom, rational thought and scientific skepticism, made him its honorary president.
His characters tended to be miserable anti-heros with little control over their fate. Vonnegut said the villains in his books were never individuals, but culture, society and history, which he said were making a mess of the planet.
"We probably could have saved ourselves, but we were too damned lazy to try very hard... and too damn cheap," he once suggested carving into a wall on the Grand Canyon, as a message for flying-saucer creatures.
He retired from novel writing in his later years, but continued to publish short articles. He had a best-seller in 2005 with "A Man Without a Country," a collection of his nonfiction work, including jabs at the Bush administration ("upper-crust C-students who know no history or geography") and the uncertain future of the planet.
He called the book's success "a nice glass of champagne at the end of a life."
In recent years, Vonnegut worked as a senior editor and columnist at In These Times. Bleifuss said he had been trying to get Vonnegut to write something more for the magazine, but was unsuccessful.
"He would just say he's too old and that he had nothing more to say. He realized, I think, he was at the end of his life," Bleifuss said.
Vonnegut, who had homes in Manhattan and the Hamptons in New York, adopted his sister's three young children after she died. He also had three children of his own with his first wife, Ann Cox, and later adopted a daughter, Lily, with his second wife, the noted photographer Jill Krementz.
Vonnegut once said that of all the ways to die, he'd prefer to go out in an airplane crash on the peak of Mount Kilimanjaro. He often joked about the difficulties of old age.
"When Hemingway killed himself he put a period at the end of his life; old age is more like a semicolon," Vonnegut told The Associated Press in 2005.
"My father, like Hemingway, was a gun nut and was very unhappy late in life. But he was proud of not committing suicide. And I'll do the same, so as not to set a bad example for my children."
___
Associated Press writers Michael Warren, Hillel Italie and Chelsea Carter contributed to this report.
I have to go now.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Reading Roundup.
I have spent a whole lot of time recently reading newspapers and political websites, which I realized is causing me to fall way behind in my book reading. Infinite Jest has once again proved incredibly thick and slow-going. I love it, but I tend to do my book reading right before I fall asleep, and that book is too much work (both mentally and physically). I really need a vacation in order to get serious about it.
On a recommendation from my friend K, I picked up a couple of Carl Hiassen books at a rummage sale recently. I am reading one, but I'm too lazy to go upstairs and check the title right now. It's about a murdered musician and a reporter who is kind of a fuckup. It's funny, and pretty smart, and in general a good, easy wind down at the end of a day. Thumbs up.
I still have the Shakespeare book on my night stand, but I haven't made any progress. Like the DFW book, it is really large and cumbersome, and I will need more time in larger chunks to get through it.
I have also been reading a lot of magazines, the best of which is a literary mag called The Believer (www.believermag.com), brought to us by the wonderful people at McSweeneys. The Believer is as close to being in a literature class as my brain has come for over ten years. I love it. I have been reading it monthly for over a year, and recently grabbed a stack of back issues on ebay for next to nothing. I love it.
Honestly, my heart isn't really in this post, but I am trying very hard to post more often. Sorry it's not that fun. I really have to go read now.
On a recommendation from my friend K, I picked up a couple of Carl Hiassen books at a rummage sale recently. I am reading one, but I'm too lazy to go upstairs and check the title right now. It's about a murdered musician and a reporter who is kind of a fuckup. It's funny, and pretty smart, and in general a good, easy wind down at the end of a day. Thumbs up.
I still have the Shakespeare book on my night stand, but I haven't made any progress. Like the DFW book, it is really large and cumbersome, and I will need more time in larger chunks to get through it.
I have also been reading a lot of magazines, the best of which is a literary mag called The Believer (www.believermag.com), brought to us by the wonderful people at McSweeneys. The Believer is as close to being in a literature class as my brain has come for over ten years. I love it. I have been reading it monthly for over a year, and recently grabbed a stack of back issues on ebay for next to nothing. I love it.
Honestly, my heart isn't really in this post, but I am trying very hard to post more often. Sorry it's not that fun. I really have to go read now.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Chilling Out.
Literally, I mean. The temperature is dropping quickly, which means I only have time for a quick catchup. Gotta walk the hounds before it gets too cold.
Have finished bringing in the seedlings and covering the plants that are already in the ground. Waiting on a batch of organic pomegranate jelly to finish processing. Last night I made some fizzing bath bombs and lavender soap. Tomorrow I hope to bake some cookies and dog biscuits, and maybe, just maybe, make some ancho chile hot chocolate. Hell, if my first farmer's market is gonna be in the cold, I might as well make the best of it.
Here's a nice shot of the very weird sunset we had last night.
Have finished bringing in the seedlings and covering the plants that are already in the ground. Waiting on a batch of organic pomegranate jelly to finish processing. Last night I made some fizzing bath bombs and lavender soap. Tomorrow I hope to bake some cookies and dog biscuits, and maybe, just maybe, make some ancho chile hot chocolate. Hell, if my first farmer's market is gonna be in the cold, I might as well make the best of it.
Here's a nice shot of the very weird sunset we had last night.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Pollen Panic.
It's that time of year again. Birds chirp, bees buzz, and my formerly forest green car is now a mucky shade of yellow.
(That line is where I rubbed off the pollen with my finger so you can see the difference in color.)
Are you sneezing yet?
I hope not, because if your nose gets too stuffy, you won't be able to smell this:
I appreciate wisteria more with each passing year. It's stay is far too brief, but will be followed, I know, by honeysuckle, and then giant magnolias. All of these things are lovely and have an intoxicating smell that I never got in the north (Though the lilacs up there are pretty amazing as well).
So anyway, everybody i know seems to be coming down with a "Spring cold", while I am getting started on what promises to be a hellacious allergy season.
By the by, there is a payoff for all the pollen:
These guys are gonna be huge.
(That line is where I rubbed off the pollen with my finger so you can see the difference in color.)
Are you sneezing yet?
I hope not, because if your nose gets too stuffy, you won't be able to smell this:
I appreciate wisteria more with each passing year. It's stay is far too brief, but will be followed, I know, by honeysuckle, and then giant magnolias. All of these things are lovely and have an intoxicating smell that I never got in the north (Though the lilacs up there are pretty amazing as well).
So anyway, everybody i know seems to be coming down with a "Spring cold", while I am getting started on what promises to be a hellacious allergy season.
By the by, there is a payoff for all the pollen:
These guys are gonna be huge.
Monday, April 02, 2007
FYI
I got tagged by Z. The results are (finally) a couple posts down. I forgot that it would post in the order that I started it, not in the order I finished it.
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