Another installment of the poorly named Music and/or Storybook Thursday and/or Friday. Today is Storybook Thursday.

Unfortunately I can't think of a good story, so I'll tell a bad one instead. If you don't come here for the minty fresh stories, skip it.

As some of you may or may not know, we have been working on a cookbook with an author/chef. He cooked for presidents and visiting dignitaries for 12 years. So he's, you know, skilled.

Anyway, he's been in this week making the dishes so we can style and shoot them. Once approved we can—here's the best part—eat them.

So this week I've had some tasty morsels. The great part is that, not only is Heathrow the designer, but I built the chef's web site, so Heathrow always lets me know when I can eat it, and this guy at least knows me. Because he's rather gruff when cooking. People are always nervous going in to the kitchen when he's working.

Also, doing these cookbooks really sends you on weird chases. For instance, the paté needed veal, chicken livers, pork fat, and back fat.

What the hell is back fat? It was impossible to find. Heather was at wit's end until I suggested an old-school classic meat shop that supplies a lot of restaurants in the area. Sure enough, they had it. I went with Heather to pick it up. When we gave them our full order, the guy looked at us and asked what the hell we were making. We laughed.

On the first cookbook, we hired a food stylist. The client and chef hated everything they did. So we secretly started making and styling the shots ourselves. And they loved it. So Heather and I had to make a lot of the recipes. Keep in mind that, although I do cook and bake, I do not cook and bake often. And these recipes were not simple things. I was a bit terrified.

The first thing I made was a buttermilk lemon raisin pie. Like amateurs, we used a prepared crust and Photoshopped it to look homemade. Didn't fly. So I had to—by myself—make a pie crust. Have I ever made a pie crust? Ha ha ha! No.

It worked though. Thank god.

I ended up making maybe a dozen or so recipes, including banana black-bottom cream pie (which is insanely good), homemade egg noodles (that was interesting), chicken and sausage gumbo (which was like crack, but was a nightmare to make), and corn bread (ever used lard before? me neither).

But perhaps the most amusing part was trying to style the shots. Photoshop heals a multitude of sins, but there are some things that can't be faked. Luckily we have a rock star photographer.

But I have memories of trying to use a lighter to melt cheese during a burger shot, having to corral crabs that kept crawling off the set, continually re-wetting food with a spray bottle, trying to drizzle dressing strategically, blow torching things, and generally trying to create the perfect shot with imperfect food. I knew food styling was difficult, but man you have to do some weird tricks.

So I'm completely embarrassed. I went out for a cigarette and randomly standing there, I heard a song playing in a backyard across the alley. I wasn't sure if it was a recording or someone playing, so I kinda wandered over to see what the deal was. Turns out someone was playing in his backyard. I asked if it was actually him playing and he said yes. I told him it was a beautiful song.

He was kinda rude, and I must have just annoyed him.

I was so embarrassed.

So I got the weirdest guestbook signing today. It's quite confusing. At first I thought it was spamming punters, but I think it's real, as they didn't have a link to a website. Here it is:

I am NeeNee's mom and I find your comments
on Queer eye hilarious!!!!!
valerie

So, that's awesome that she likes my site, but I have no clue who NeeNee is or if I'm supposed to know who NeeNee is.

I did a search for it online and couldn't find anything seemingly relevant. Was NeeNee on Queer Eye? A daughter? I've gotten emails from wives of QE make-betters before, so I wouldn't be shocked, but this name doesn't ring a bell in the slightest.

Just like The OC thing, this is gonna drive me to distraction.

Sigh.

I promise to only do this once... or thrice more, but, ahem:

Las Vegas is so good every week. The plotlines are a mixture of clever and funny, whoever's writing for the show has spot-on dialogue and wittiness, and the actor's are consistently... consistent. Just... watch the show, dammit. I don't usually go in for hour-long dramas, but this one has me hooked.

But by far I have to urge everyone to watch LAX. If you like the other shows I quote, WATCH LAX.

I repeat: Watch LAX.

Locklear and Underwood always flew under my radar (no pun intended) but I have a whole new respect.

And whoever the writers are? Bring the funny.

I'm worried, because any show I like that's a bit quirky? Cancelled.

Freaks and Geeks, Undeclared, The Jury.

Cancelled, cancelled, cancelled.

So Willy from Real World just said, and I quote, "But the Mall of America is the coolest. I used to work there."

Willy, I liked you, but the honeymoon period is over.

We used to (okay, I still do) call that monstrosity the Sprawl of America. I hate that place. It is sick and wrong on so many levels.

Back when it first opened, we renamed the ad's chorus to be "A place to run for your life, the Mall of America!" because there were so many shootings there.

Sigh. I can't sleep. So I'm watching a Miami Slice marathon.

If I had a plastic surgeon for a boyfriend and he told me I needed work on my face and needed bigger boobs, I'd tell him where to go.

On my way home tonight, I was going through a residential area and saw something in the middle of the road. So I stopped abruptly. It was a baby bunny. Just a little thing. And it wasn't moving. Meaning it was caught in my headlights. I wasn't sure what to do. I honked my horn and he took off. Then he did a few flips, clearly freaked out. It makes me nervous. I hope it was out of fear and not prior injury.

He stopped next to a car parked on the side of the road. There was a car behind me, so I said a quick prayer that the little guy wouldn't dart back out into the road, and drove on. I was watching the car behind me, nervous that they would hit the little guy.

I don't think the car initially knew why I had stopped, but I think he figured it out quickly. He was sort of swerving toward the bunny's position, but suddenly stopped and slowly moved to the other side.

Weirdly enough, a block later, with the same car behind me, there was a cat in the middle of the road I had to stop for.

This is incredibly long. Skip it if you get bored easily.

On to interesting (to me) stories. I went to Lund's on Saturday and was paying for groceries when I noticed my bagger-guy was singing to himself softly. Bottom line: if you sing out loud ever, I like you. Music is like breathing to me.

I don't usually have baggers help me out to my car, but he had put the bags in a cart dealie, so I asked him to help me to my car.

As a side note, he appeared to be Ethiopian or Nigerian. He was in his 40s, most likely African-born, and had a heavy accent. Now you're up to speed.

So as we were walking out, he commented on the beautiful day, which it was. This weekend was perfect Minneapolis weekend. For some reason he brought up being in Russia in 1973.

So I asked why he was in Russia. I mean, that's the Cold War Russia. How cool is that? He went to cinematography school there. I inquired how he came to Minnesota, and he told me that he first came to New York to go to film school for his Masters, then came here. Apparently he was working at the photo processing place in Lund's until they closed it. Now he's bagging stupid groceries.

On to my next story:

My mom has been having showings lately, so she has to leave her house a fair piece. She needed to escape and so she came over for lunch and a walk. We wandered down King's Highway, next to Lakewood Cemetery. I realize that the history part of it would be cool, but I just was too creeped out by the dead people part of it.

Anyway, when we got back to my apartment Mom decided to tackle my vacuum cleaner, and discovered it was clogged. So that that was why it sucked... in the sense that it didn't (™Ted @ Queer Eye). She then proceeded to vacuum my rug.

THEN, she proceeded to clean my entire livingroom. I protested several times, but she wouldn't listen. It looks awesome.

I would like to take the time to mention that my mother has never cleaned my apartment before. Nor would I ever ask her. My mom raised me to be self-sufficient. She didn't raise me to be lazy, but that can't be helped.

I recently helped her prepare her home to be sold, plus she didn't want to go home (house being shown) so she decided to say thank you for my help by cleaning my livingroom. No offense, but providing me room and board for 18 years kinda is a pretty big thanks.

I love my mom.

She didn't want to go home (can't blame her) so she hung out after the cleaning was done. I turned on Arthur and tried to explain to her why I loved the cartoon show. Yeah, I don't think she liked it. You win some, you lose some.

Chip and Kim, winners of the Amazing Race, were on The Late Late Show last night. I taped it because The Thrills were on, and I was fast-forwarding to their performance when I noticed the couple. So I watched.

I LOVE Chip and Kim. Don't get me wrong, I realize that reality TV is heavily edited to let the producers tell the story they want to, but I once saw a producer say that they can edit all they want, but people's personalities can't be faked. In other words, if someone looks like a pain in the ass, they really are a pain in the ass.

And Chip and Kim come off as rather cool.

Okay, I'm gonna sidetrack a bit and mention that Bobby Cannavale is also on. He's cute, but not quite my type. But dang if he wasn't dead sexy as Torquemada in Oz. That eye? Meow.

Alright, as you may or may not know, today is Music and/or Storybook Thursday and/or Friday. I'm also feeling chatty, so you might want to jump down a bit if you're looking for the music. I have some Wilco, Son Volt, and Uncle Tupelo.

First to get my random ramble out of the way. It's Friday. I will not tell you that I'm stressed. I have started posting my mood so often I'm afraid this'll turn into a Live Journal blog.

Seriously, can someone tell me how it works? Do groups of friends get together online and chat? Do people randomly find those pages and decide to befriend the writer and post back replies? Or do they have common interest groups where these people meet? I don't know. All I know is if anyone ever calls my rant a blog, I reserve the right to hurt them.

Dateline has an episode on internet pedophiles. They set up 20 guys thinking they were meeting a young girl, but instead they were interviewed for the show. Personally, I like baiting.org's methods: go into chat rooms pretending to be young girls and then turn the tables on the pedos and often (through words) rape, kill, or just make up some random weird narrative. Their goal is to a) make sure the pedos are kept occupied, and b) crack readers up. Which they certainly do. They're also entirely too sarcastic. Which is a bonus.

Next random: CSI has an episode on a serial killer. No offense, but could CSI not consistently hit me over the head with the killer's identity within the first ten minutes? Security Guard. Ten bucks. And watching this is doing nothing but making me paranoid.

Last random rant before I get to the music: I saw suspected Death Cab for Claire owner again today. Again I had to resist the urge to ask him what posessed him to purchase that decal.

Okay, music:

So I was going to post local music only, but couldn't find much. I'll have to go thru my physical CDs to see if I have more. But, for the time being I will post a random mix. I got a guestbook signer that liked the Son Volt/Wilco/UT stuff, so I grabbed some of those. Herewith:

Wilco : Passenger Side (Punk)
Wilco : Passenger Side (Polka)

This was from The Fillmore in 1997. I've always liked the combo. Wilco had just finished a smoking fast version of the song, and some joker yelled, "Play it faster!" so Wilco launched into the slowest version they could muster.

Jeff cracks me up.

Son Volt : Way Down Watson (alternate version or demo)

This song is just a wonderful version of Way Down Watson. Jay Farrar is one of the most under-appreciated musicians I know.

Next:

Old 97s : If My Heart Was a Car

They have a new album out and I like the first single.

Story: Murray Hammond is married to the voice of Emily Elizabeth on Clifford: The Big Red Dog. She's a musician herself, but also does voiceover work. Murray and Grey's wedding was on TLC's A Wedding Story awhile back. I tried to catch it, but to no avail. That would have been cool to see.

Rhett Miller : Ironchild
Rhett did a solo album that's quite good. This song wasn't on the album, but I think it's a sweet song. I will remain incredibly jealous of the wife of Rhett Miller. He's a hottie and he writes great lyrics.

Daniel Johnston : I saw her standing there

This one's a bit out of left field, but it's a great song. It's unconventional, but so is Daniel Johnston. In my freshman year of college, I was dating a guy who gave me two tapes (yes, tapes) by Daniel. He got them from a member of Husker Du, believe it or not.

So this song was done by Daniel on a Texas Instruments keyboard, I believe. It's incredibly crude, yes, but I really like it.

I wish I still had those tapes. I accidentally recorded over them. I'm an idiot.

So I have had trouble sleeping as of late. That's life, right?

Right. Anyway I am up and it's after midnight. I was flipping channels and thought I'd check out the artists on the various late night talk shows. Nelly was listed as being on The Late Late Show, so I flipped to there. I figured, Hey, I don't know his music, but he seems like cool.

Turns out, the musical guest was not Nelly. It was Gomez. Woo hoo!

That is one tight band. As in very gifted. My co-workers are obsessed with them. And they claim that Gomez is amazing live. I'm not surprised.

On a weird note, Nelly is listed as being on the (annoying and annoying) Carson Daly Show. So is No Use for a Name. They are possibly also the show's backing band. I've never watched the show before. I always viewed Carson Daly as an egomanical self-absorbed idiot. But I am always over-reactive about everything.

I must say that, after watching Carson Daly's talk show, I have underestimated him. His ego is insane. His interviewing style is insipid, and he does appear to be an idiot. That's pretty much—in my opinion—a horrible horrible show. Even worse than my spelling.

Daly tries so hard to be ironic and/or clever—

Sigh. Bored with the rant. Let's move on:

Watching the news, I remember why I don't to watch the news.

There's an investigation about Minneapolis cops due to a new book that's out. And their expert is a Normandale prof.

I'm sorry, but if your college is made fun of in Fargo, you should realize that you aren't considered legitimate.

Random personal things I don't usually post:

So, I've been having an extremely stressful life as of late. I was going to post why, but I have changed my mind. Y'all don't really need to hear about my personal crap. To sum up, I'm stressed.

But driving home from work today, "Float On" by Modest Mouse came on the radio.

Is it just me, or does that song just make you happy? I know it's a radio song and radio songs are—for many reasons— questionable, but I really like that song.

So I realized that there are other radio songs lately that I really like:

The Thrills' One Horse Town and also Deckchairs and Cigarettes
The Killers' I Met a Girl
Scissor Sisters' Take Your Mama Out
Gomez's Nothing is Wrong

There's most likely others, but that's what I can think of now.

In other news: The OC is starting up again. So I've got shows to quote Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Ai.

PSA: If you get a website, don't get the bright idea to quote shows you think are funny.

Trust me.

CHIP AND KIM WON! CHIP AND KIM WON! CHIP AND KIM WON!

COLIN AND CHRISTY LOST! COLIN AND CHRISTY LOST! COLIN AND CHRISTY LOST!

I have never been so satisfied with an Amazing Race ending ever. Amanda was convinced that Colin and Christy would pull it off. But no.

Chip and Kim deserve it. They were like the perfect blend of kind and clever. And the twist at the end with the delayed flight? Best ever.

I have liked them since day one. I can't believe they won.

The Thrills are on Leno. I like them. I sorta wish they'd performed Deckchairs and Cigarettes, tho.

In other thoughts, I have a song stuck in my head from The OC:

"Guess I had a dream last night, I stood beneath an orange sky. With my brother and my sister standing by."

I have to go find that song. It was from The Homecoming, which stands for all time as my favorite episode. I had forgotten about the song until I watched the special and they had a clip.

So I'm watching the Emmy's. Out of the corner of my eye I think I caught two men kiss, one of them going up to accept an Emmy. The award is for best director[?] and he says: "Thanks to my husband, Mark... Someday you will hopefully make an honest husband out of me."

Can you believe that? This country has actually become progressive enough to allow a man to acknowledge his husband.

Now if we can just LET PEOPLE MARRY WHO THEY WANT TO MARRY, I'll be happy.

If you break out in tears after your boss gives you a snarky response, you're too stressed out.

I'm too stressed out.

But I won't dwell. Instead, I'll ramble.

I wrote earlier about waking up in the middle of the night and catching Fear and Loathing. For some reason, I could not for the life of me remember the name Hunter S. Thompson.

Then someone signed my guestbook to let me know the name that was eluding me. I'll admit I was surprised. I just hope people understand that I feel incredibly honored anytime someone takes the... time to write me. It sounds weird, but running a website is a very isolating thing. I post files and words and ideas that people view but I have no idea if they find it helpful, interesting, or unhelpful.

I'm gonna stop this current vein of rant because it's dull. Next thought:

You. Yeah, you. You reading my rant: Watch LAX on NBC Mondays at 9 CST.

If you think I'm even remotely amusing, watch this show.

I don't normally laugh out loud at shows. But I've been cracking up. I heart both Heather Locklear and Blair Underwood now. And I guess Heather is a producer on the show. I have no idea what that means, but now have a whole new level of respect for her.

So I have been getting some response to posting Tim Easton, Jay Farrar, and Jeff Tweedy MP3s. So I am going to post them more often than I have been. They'll go up on Friday. Here's the deal: if you download these songs, I ask that you please download a song from an artist you haven't heard of. It would make my day.

Having done that, I get to complain.

We went to the art fair at Marine-on-Saint-Croix today. Nice little art fair we go to every year. And the sandwich shop we usually go to was gone. Shame. It was a sweet little place with a special bread that was rather tasty. So we went to this other restaurant.

When we walked in, it was pretty empty. Surprising, because there were a ton of people at the art fair. Good for us, right? We sat down and the server came right away. So far so good. We placed our order within 5 minutes and waited for our food.

And waited. And waited. And waited.

And waited.

The table next to us, who came in 15 minutes after us, got their food. We finally tracked down the server and asked about our food. "Just a few more minutes." Uh huh.

Okay, not only was the menu pared down to help them with the crowd, not only did we order some of the simplest items ever (burger, chicken tenders, shish kebabs) but THE PLACE WAS EMPTY when we walked in.

About 15 minutes after "Just a few more minutes." our food arrived. Mom's kebabs were off the grill and good. Polly's burger was not so bad. Although since they didn't bring us silverware she had to spread mustard with her tomato.

My chicken tenders didn't qualify as chicken or tender.

I never order chicken tenders. What was I thinking? Mom even asked me why the hell I ordered them. Mom and Polly both tried them and agreed: they were AWFUL.

So yeah I was grumpy. Late, bad food doesn't make me happy. As a sidenote, I realize it's not the server's fault (entirely). They can't help how the kitchen functions. But I do think she sucked as well.

She came back and said she would bring the bill in a second. I said (after she was out of earshot), "See you in ten minutes." She came back in ten minutes. She asked how the food was. I said (grumpily), "I'm sorry, but for the record, these chicken tenders were nasty."

Two minutes later she came back with—what I assume to be—the cook. He inquired about my lunch and I told him basically that I thought it wasn't very good.

His response? He defended them. Apparently he's been serving the chicken for a year and no one has ever complained. Yeah, really? I guess no one has any taste. And then he explained that the art fair had made the restaurant so busy that it was difficult to keep up with orders. To be clear, he explained this quite rudely.

Back to topic, Dear cook: both excuses have NOTHING to do with each other. If your food sucks, it's always gonna suck, okay? PLUS, as I may have mentioned, the place was empty when we walked in. If you and your staff can't deal with a semi-full restaurant, you and your staff? ARE INCOMPETENT.

So I found every penny I had—17 in all—and left it as a tip.

Okay, to be honest I left 15%, but I did include the pennies.

So I realize I'm being... obsessively grumpy. But if you're ever in Marine-on-Saint-Croix and you find some mook dressed all in Vikings gear working a microwave, give him the finger for me.

Ah, Saturday. First: random thoughts. Second: random Music and/or Storybook Thursday and/or Friday Day story.

It is a lovely day and everyone single person in Minneapolis is outside. Honestly. I love this town. I went apartment hunting with my mom earlier. She hasn't had an apartment since I was 2. She now knows the hell that is apartment hunting.

When I got home, I checked the status of Death Cab for Claire as always and found it parked on the corner. I then noticed that the hillbilly dude on the corner was out with his dog on the stoop drinking a beer.

It hit like a flash: that's his truck. This guy with the dog I think is so cute (reminds me of my childhood dog, Pete) owns Death Cab for Claire. I honestly considered asking him if it was indeed his, and what he was thinking when he bought it, but decided that would be too weird.

Not as weird as having a truck cab sticker with a rotting corpse on it, mind you. Freak.

Okay, Storybook Friday continued:

Driving home from my outing with Mom, I passed by the Walker Art Museum. They're expanding and the building is crazy. I'm curious as to what it's supposed to look like.

For 99.9% of the people taking the time to read this, the Walker is a modern art museum in Minneapolis. It also has a sculpture garden with, among other things, a fish sculpture by Frank Gehry and a huge spoon with a cherry on it. I realize that sounds odd, but it's so very very cool looking. The museum itself is between Uptown and Downtown, basically. Some of the traveling exhibits they've had have been phenomenal. I like MIA (Minneapolis Institue of Arts) better, but maybe that's somewhat related to the history aspect of it.

But I digress. Anyway, driving by the Walker I thought of a story. I should title the story, I suppose. Okay

THE WALKER MUSEUM
Or: How I Got to Chat Up Roy Lichtenstein

When I was growing up, my mom enrolled me in as many children's programs at different museums as she could. I remember only a few. But by far the coolest was a workshop (it may have lasted several days) with artist Roy Lichtenstein.

If you're currently thinking, "Who the hell is that?", he's got a pop art feel to his pieces. I'm bad at describing artistic styles. The best I can do is say that his art looks like comic books, in a way.

All I got.

Back to story: Lichtenstein was getting a piece installed at the Walker and agreed to host a workshop for kids (I was maybe 8). Said newly installed piece was sectioned into many squares and given to groups of kids. We were supposed to create our own version of that section of the painting and try to be as accurate as possible.

I'm not a leader-type chick, but when there's no apparent leader-type person, I tend to take control. Even at age 8. So I was directing progress in creating this bit of the painting.

Meanwhile, Roy was wandering around the different groups to observe the progress. He stopped at ours.

Okay, keep in mind that I had no clue who Roy Lichtenstein was. I was 8, okay. To me, he was some random guy that painted. Not a well-known artist.

Anyway, he complimented me on our progress and, if I remember correctly, even told me that he thought it was rather true to the original. I was delighted. He asked me a few questions about life and then moved on.

When everyone was done, we took all the pieces to the front lobby and Roy personally (I think) assembled them. I believe it even stayed there for some time.

Years later, I finally learned who Roy Lichtenstein was, studied his work, and was blown away that he was cool enough to host a children's workshop and even chat up a munchkin like me.

It's 4 am and I can't sleep. So I'm up and watching Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Johnny Depp and Benicio del Toro do a fabulous job, and Chris Meloni does too.

Tonight on Method and Red:

Method: How do you keep a black man in prison?
Red: Re-elect Bush.
Method: We can't wait until November.

Mama: From what I've seen on Oz, honey, prison don't calm a person down.

HA!

Today was a crappy day. I woke up and looked at the clock. 11:30.

The day just got worse. Unsurprisingly. And it was a crappy, rainy day. So leaving work tonight I was feeling sorry for myself.

As I crossed over Minnehaha, I saw police, ambulance, and a fire truck up two blocks. The firetruck was blocking the street, so I was focused on watching the cop directing traffic to turn right. After a minute or so of being stopped, I casually glanced to my left.

An enormous black truck was flipped on its side and had slammed into a light pole.

So, yeah. Stop your whining, Claire.

In other news: I am very happy to report that I had a guestbook signer telling me he was a fellow Farrar fan and had downloaded some MP3s I had posted. So Music Thursday and/or Friday will remain.

I'm not sure where this is going, but I couldn't sleep last night and I was flipping channels. I found Flogging Molly on some late night talk show. At first, I thought, "That CAN NOT be Flogging Molly."

Flogging Molly.

Cool.

So both Las Vegas and North Shore are back today. North Shore was just confusing, but okay overall. Very intrigue-heavy.

And Las Vegas... I forgot how much I like that show. Tonight they had Brian Callen and two Deluise Brothers plus a rather touching plotline dealing with post-traumatic stress. The last ten minutes...

I cried. I admit it.

I predicted the ending, but it was so well-scripted and acted, I cried. I'm serious, people, if you like good writing, acting, and decent plotlines, watch it.

Watching all these soap opera-y shows I've been worried lately, as I'm not a soap opera fan. I hated 90210 passionately, got violently ill when forced to watch Dawson's Creek, and Felicity... what the hell was with her hair?

But then, pissed at The OC for replacing Keen Eddie (which is coming out on DVD—yay!) I watched it mainly out of spite (don't ask) and thought, "Okay, the writing's really good. The main boys are hot. I'm allowed one guilty pleasure."

Then I randomly saw an episode of Las Vegas and thought, "Great show. I'm allowed to watch this because that redhead chick is so classic."

Then, Heathrow kept talking about North Shore and I succumbed. It's the most soap opera-y show I've ever watched on purpose. So my only excuse I have left is that it has Shooter McGavin and Hailey (The OC) as actors. And Hailey's character is so twisty. She's a great actress.

UPDATE: Aw crap. LAX is quirky and I like it. I am such a sucker for TV. I can't figure out why the mayor is familiar. And the 2 baggage handlers? Classic.

Adding: It's months later and I realized that the mayor is from 24. I love 24.

OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. I think that's Badly Drawn Boy from The Hour of Bewilderbeast in the end of LAX. WOW.

If I had to pick an artist I would NEVER expect to hear in a TV show? Badly Drawn Boy. Especially since Bewilderbeast came out in 2000. I heart whoever is picking music for LAX.

Okay, I just grabbed the CD and it's The Shining. I haven't heard that song since I last listened to this disk. I love that song. Why have I not listened to it?

So REASON #36 I HATE UPTOWN: The Streets.

Driving down Uptown residential streets, there are cars parked on each side of the road, and the road is rather narrow. Trying to navigate around oncoming traffic can be nerve-wracking. Often you have to edge into an empty parking spot to let oncoming traffic pass. It SUCKS.

But yesterday, I had the ultimate: A semi truck was parked in the middle of the street.

I turned down the street, saw the truck, and should have backed up and just taken another street but, like an idiot, I figured, eh, I'm little. So I kept going.

I have never had to fit through a tighter spot in my life. I had about an inch on either side of me. I was going about .5 miles per hour—when I wasn't fully stopped to assess the situation.

And to top it off, when I was almost through and at the narrowest point, some guy in a truck starts yelling at me.

A little weirded out, I decided to ignore him and just concentrate on getting through. The truck guy parked and I finally got to him and stopped. A little confused, I rolled down the window and he smiled, but didn't say anything. I said, "I'm sorry, were you yelling at me?", sort of embarassed.

He replied, "I was yelling 'You got it! You got it!'"

I laughed, thanked him, and carried on.

Sometimes I like people.

I am stress personified. And when I am stressed, music helps. So it's Music Friday today. I have decided that we now have Music and/or Storybook Day on Thursday and/or Friday.

So, as always, if you like something, buy the album and support the artists.

As promised last week, I will post MP3s from my favorite artists. First up, Uncle Tupelo.

Criminals : in the KUSF studios
We've Been Had : Mississippi Nights

The first is a live song from March 16-20, 1992 and is lyrically brilliant. The recording is a little scratchy, but those lyrics hold it together. The second is from their final show in May of 94. It's a Tweedy tune from Anodyne.

On to Son Volt. Which is an offshoot of UT that Jay Farrar started up.

Last Time Around : Straightface EP
Medicine Hat : Bowery Ballroom

Jay Farrar again, is the most beautiful lyricist ever. And he can rock out, which the first song illustrates even if it is a cover. In concert he's amazing. Always notorious for being silent on stage (just a hello and thanks, usually) in the last couple of years he has really become talkative. Which is great.

The second song is from Wide Swing Tremolo, the last Son Volt album (they recently got together for the Alejandro tribute). Medicine Hat is lyrically one of my favorite Jay songs. He can create a spot-on perfect turn-of-phrase.

Next up is Wilco, the other half of UT. I mention them chronologically after Jay because I think Jay's first album came out first and blew away Wilco's. I've heard Jeff say pretty much the same thing.

Nowadays they're rock critic darlings, thanks in part to having their label tell them to change their record, Wilco refusing and buying back their album, and taking it elsewhere. Ironically enough to another label owned by the same company that owned the first label.

I appear to have only uploaded one MP3, which in no way reflects my love of Wilco and Jeff.

Misunderstood : Wavefest

The end of this song is Jeff screaming "Nothing" repeatedly ("I'd like to thank you all for nothing") and often in concert and in a mood (usually goofy) would scream it more than the recorded version. This one is particularly long and loud. And fun.

According to legend, the longest ever "nothing" was at a folk festival back when they and Billy Bragg were touring to support the Woody Guthrie disk. Pissed off at the hippie crowd that wasn't digging their music, he launched into it.

On to Tim Easton:

Bitters Past : Live at Gio's
Death of a Traveling Saleman : 14 in One Demos

Those two are from Tim Easton, a singer/songwriter as lyrically brilliant as Jay Farrar in my eyes. He's been around for awhile. The first is a song off Haynes Boys' self-titled album before he went solo. The recording of this version is from a live performance a few years ago.

The second is a never released song whose lyrics blow me away every time. They're just brilliant. Tim has been compared—lyrically—to Bob Dylan. If you're still reading this and have downloaded nothing else, download this.

Have I lost everybody yet? If not, here's a few others to check out:

Joe Henry : Kingshighway

Joe Henry (Madonna's brother-in-law) is a kickass singer/songwriter who often has the Jayhawks as a backing band. His album Fuse is brilliant, and he has a sense of humor that comes through in his lyrics.

Old 97s : If My Heart was a Car

Old 97s are the most rockingest live band ever. I dare you to prove otherwise. Frontman Rhett Miller is a maniac. And hot. And his lyrics are so witty. And they are the nicest boys. I've chatted them up a few times. I've told this story before, but I once witnessed Ken Betthea crawling around on his hands and knees in First Ave relating a story to us about his son.

If you've been to First Ave. you know how scary the floors are.

Whiskeytown : Probably

Finally: Whiskeytown. That tumultuous, inconsistent, ever-changing band. Ryan Adams is too prolific these days, putting out album after album. Back in the day, he would whittle down his songs and leave the true gems. And Whiskeytown had Caitlin Cary. I like Caitlin.

Random thoughts:

On the way home from my mom's, I was contemplating my absolute hatred of Uptown, and realized that the Twin Cities has some of the weirdest named neighborhoods. Uptown, Tangletown, Frogtown, and Dinkytown.

That's right. Dinkytown. Who names these places?

The host from Bands Reunited on VH1 is not only highly cute, but incredibly funny on camera.

So I'm embarassed to admit that I'm watching Surreal Life. It's the first episode and Charo is explaining why Ryan wants to move her bed into Charo's room:

"She doesn't want to sleep in the boys' room and she doesn't want to sleep in Brigitte's room. pause. Because she's a crazy bitch."

I haven't laughed that loud at my TV in ages. I heart Charo.

I heard a weird noise in a dumpster next to my apartment as I was walking by today. I figured if it wasn't my imagination it was an animal. But I was kind of nevous that if I let it out it would turn on me. There's not much room for something to run out when you open the flap and there's no telling what direction the animal would take.

I stood there for over a minute, just looking at it and trying to hear it again. I must have looked nuts. And heard nothing more.

Finally, I decided I simply couldn't bear to

be responsible for the indirect death of an animal. I inched toward the dumpster and gingerly opened it.

Sure enough, a squirrel popped out and scrambled off.

I feel kinda good about that.

There's a squirrel (I think it's just one squirrel) that is always back there that I say hello to everyday (shut up). I'd like to think I saved my little squirrel friend.