Visions of Sugarplums...

Awful nice Christmas break thus far. We had a really good visit with my folks, and we all left (us and Lisa & Scott) just before the kids got to that point where they're in love and yet killing each other every ten seconds.

Last night, when I wasn't trying to figure out where that mouse was (we got an attic visitor during our absence.. he and I are exploring our relationship via massive poisoning..) I did a little dreaming. Thought I'd share.

First I had a dream where I was watching a TV show. The show eventually got so boring that I had to quit, and woke up. So far as I can remember, it went something like this... I was watching a reality show, or at least a DVD commentary, about the making of what appeared to be a clever "Capital One" credit card commercial. The characters seemed to be maybe ..zombies..? Wearing business suits and wading into a pool of water up to their knees. The water, I think, was located directly outside of the break room, because they were also getting coffee.

(Point of actual interest: One of the actors was Howard Hughes. I have no idea why. I don't even know what he looks like, and have only a vague notion of who he was. I just know that everyone felt it was noteworthy for him to be working outside of his accustomed field.)

It was all fine until they got to one of those close-up shots where an actor has to say something clever, setting up the "WIYW" tag-line. The actor (the business-suit-wearing zombie Howard Hughes) was leaning against the coffee machine, trying to make some droll comment. He couldn't get it. They took several shots of it, and he tried it different ways, but nothing. They were all trying to give him suggestions, and he kept waving them off, saying, "Just give me a minute.. I'm just riffing on this line here! I'm just riffing on this line!"

Finally, he sort of gave up, and then they started trying to come up with things as a group. Somebody had a laptop, and the producer started doing keyword searches on Google, trying to hit a vein of inspiration.

It was at this point.. when some part of my brain realized that I was dreaming about watching a TV show about the making of a credit card commercial that degenerated into watching other people do random internet word-searches.. that I simultaneously gave up and woke up.

Then later, I had another dream. In this one, Greg Hunt and the kids (Jill, I'm sorry, I don't remember you being there--maybe you were spending some time alone on an island somewhere!) came to stay with us for a day or two. Except that we had this new house.. not a mansion or anything, but very open and bright and spacious.. out in the country.

It was spring. Greg and Co. came in late, and we had a nice talk and coffee around the fire, and then all went to bed. In the morning, Deb and I got up and went out to do some gardening or something--and completely forgot that anyone was in the house.

When we came back in later (around 10, I think) the kids were playing, and Greg was kind of padding around, looking shaggy. And we were like, "Oh no! We totally forgot you were here!!"

But it was OK! Because we had thought to lay out an awesome feast in the kitchen the night before (blueberry donuts, muffins, cereal, fresh fruit) ..and Greg was having himself a cup of dark roast and all smiles, and the hospitality was just.. great. : }

Howard Hughes was not involved.

DR. FREUD!! PAGING DR. FREUD!!

Mr. Fixit

All day yesterday fixing the bathtub and chasing mice in the attic.

More fixing and chasing scheduled for today. Plus, the vacuum cleaner died.. so..
I'll be busting out the screwdrivers shortly.

prayers, please

Our good friends the Claassens are going through a real rough spot with a pregnancy right now. If anyone happens to be reading and could pray for them, they (and I) would appreciate it. I don't know if you've ever been through a scary medical situation with your kids (if you have them), but I can honestly say that there is no more distressing situation for a parent.

thanks much.

scratches

Hey,

I put up some scratch demo tracks over at the myspace page. They're nothing really wonderful.. they're just scratch demos. Which means that they are things, mostly just guitar and voice, that I cobbled together in the basement, either as experiments or to give someone else an idea of how a song went.

One of them, I guess, is a real, actual, demo recording. With drums and everything. But to make up for that issue of quality, it's an mp3 conversion of a transfered cassette recording.. and it's 8 years old.

email pants

I am just saying...

email pants

Baby. That's what I'm saying.

I do not know who is responsible for this. But as an electronic mass mailing professional, I thank them.

Kids! Daddy's got a new theme song!

elastic

i feel like all the elastic has gone out of my brain

Little Book of Wisdom: Office Edition

If you receive an email that you don't understand, delete it.

If it comes back to you, it's important.

If it doesn't, it was never yours to begin with.

snippets

Because Josh graciously spotted me a little server space, and apparently because I like people seeing me at my worst, I've posted a few snippets of song ideas on the web. So, if you like horrible recordings of poorly played guitar and muttered/howled non-lyrics into the on-board microphone of a laptop computer... these will be right up your alley:

Short. Decent volume. Decent idea. Decent humming.

Short. LOUD. Distorted. Cute Rock. No humming. Kids in background.

Long. Very quiet. Mangled acoustic guitar. Best idea. So-so humming.

Especially if you are one of my song-writing-ish friends, maybe this will be interesting to you. And now, we return you to "Radical Orthodoxy," which has degenerated to me and Dave talking
about Grover.

concolor fir

Got the Christmas Tree today. It is a kind that we have had a couple times before, called a "concolor fir."

We like it, because it looks nice, and because it smells awesome. It's very fruity.. kind of almost like really juicy apples, but with a spicy, piney kick.

We now return you to your heated and in-depth discussion of Radical Orthodoxy...