The Prisoner--Marcel Proust
Five books into In Search of Lost Time
and the narrator is finally given a name. Surprise, it's "Marcel". In
this one, Marcel spends all his time and energy making sure his
girlfriend doesn't have sex with women. I've been enjoying my slow journey through In Search of Lost Time, but about halfway through The Prisoner,
I wanted to write myself into the story, show up at Marcel's front
door, and give him a swift kick in the ass. His jealous nature and
overall wussiness are starting to get annoying. Fortunately, I only
have 682 more pages.
Nobody Move--Denis Johnson
Nobody Move is a novella originally published in a literary journal (I'm not familiar with) called Playboy.
The book is a modern-day western full of gun fights, double-dealings,
and the occasional bit of cannibalism. Although it doesn't come close
to Johnson's Already Dead or Tree of Smoke, it was a fun read and definitely worthwhile for a fan like me.
Stone's Fall--Iain Pears
Stone's Fall
is divided into three parts. The first takes place in London in 1909.
A small-time journalist named Matthew Braddock is hired by Elizabeth,
Lady Ravenscliff to find the identity of her recently deceased
husband's illegitimate child. Her husband, John Stone, was a
successful financier and arms dealer who died after falling out of a
window. While investigating, Braddock discovers that large quantities
of money have been disappearing from Stone's companies. The financier
also appears to have had connections with anarchists, spiritualists,
and an enigmatic character named Henry Cort, who may or may not be the
most dangerous man in the British Empire.
The second part of the book takes place in Paris in 1890. It deals with Henry Cort's backstory, introduces a prostitute named Virginie, and looks into the various relationships of John Stone...all while a complicated international banking conspiracy looks to destroy the Bank of England.
The final section of the book takes place in Venice in 1867 and deals with John Stone's early career, his affair with a woman in Italy, and the truth about the mysterious illegitimate child that got the entire story started in the first place.
Stone's Fall is on my shortlist for best book of the year. Although I'd read all ten of Iain Pears' other works of fiction, I wasn't sure I'd enjoy Stone's Fall as it takes place in the world of international finance and arms dealings. That sounds dull, but the book turned out to be one of the best-written historical mysteries I've ever read. As soon as I finished it, I turned back to page one and started over.
Nightmares & Dreamscapes--Stephen King
This
is Stephen King's third collection of short stories. It wasn't as good
as his first, but it was still worth the $2 I paid for it.
I could've done without King's lengthy ode to Little League baseball, but most
of the other stories made for good late night reading. My only complaint is that a lot of them were 40-50 pages long, which is
about twice as long as I'd like from the "story before bed" genre. I
had to spread some of the stories out over two nights.
The highlights for me were "Dolan's Cadillac" (revenge), "The Moving Finger" (something's in the sink), "Home Delivery" (zombies are taking over), and "Crouch End" (London is scary). I also liked the first half of "You Know They Got a Hell of a Band", but thought the story fell apart when Buddy Holly started bleeding out his eyeballs. The low points of the collection were "It Grows on You" and "My Pretty Pony". I still don't know what he was going for with those two.
Hard to Admit and Harder to Escape--Sarah Manguso
How the Water Feels to the Fishes--Dave Eggers
Minor Robberies--Deb Olin Unferth
These three volumes came in a slipcase entitled One Hundred and Forty-Five Stories in a Small Box.
That pretty much sums it up right there. The stories enclosed represent the sub-genre known as the "short-short story". I
read a book each day for three days. Sarah Manguso's book was the
best, but my favorite individual story was "No One Knows" by Dave Eggers. It solves, once and for all, the mystery of how a record
player works.
Damnation Alley--Roger Zelazny
In
this book, a criminal named Hell Tanner is hired by the Nation of
California to drive a car across the post-apocalyptic wasteland that
once was the United States. His mission is to deliver plague serum to
the people of Boston. His car is tricked out with armor, missiles,
machine guns, flame throwers, and a coffee maker. The cross-country drive brings him into contact with a whole bunch of
crazy-ass shit, most of which he blows up with the aforementioned
arsenal.
Damnation Alley is a 250 page book printed in the largest font I've seen since elementary school. I read it in a couple hours without getting up from the couch. File this one under "stupid but fun".
Fusion: An Inspiration--Bill Cranfield (editor)
I
don't know if I should include this book as it only featured one
page of actual writing. All the other pages were full of graffiti art,
strange advertisements, fancypants toys from Japan, etc. It was pretty
cool to look through. Making it even better, the book came with a strange vinyl
figurine with sunglasses and a monkey on his shirt.
CURRENTLY READING:
The Fugitive--Marcel Proust
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies--Jane Austen
A lot of people talk about how awesome pie is, but how many people do you know who actually back it up with action? How many people really live the pie lifestyle? How many people put their body on the line in the name of pie? Well, I'm proud to announce that I ate nothing but pumpkin pie last Saturday. I ate pie for breakfast. I ate pie for lunch. I ate pie for dinner. I snacked on pie throughout the day. With the exception of a couple cups of coffee, 100% of my caloric intake on Saturday came from delicious pumpkin pie.
It took over four months, but I finally got my copy of This One's For the Ladies by the Young Fresh Fellows today. I originally ordered it from Amazon on May 15th. They had trouble finding a copy and kept sending me those annoying e-mails asking if I still wanted them to look for the CD. Yes, I want it. That's why I ordered it in the first place.
Well, after months of searching and a half dozen e-mails, Amazon finally found the CD and sent it my way. I would've gotten it last week except for the fact that my mailman isn't the smartest guy. He tried to deliver it on September 15th, but I wasn't home at the time. Instead of leaving the package on the front porch like he usually does or leaving me a notice that he attempted delivery, he just took it back to the local distribution center and left it there. How am I supposed to know it's there? Guess?
So last night I got to wondering. Where the heck are my Young Fresh Fellows?! I got my tracking number and visited the USPS website where I discovered what had happened to my package. Instead of talking to my mailman and trying to explain the fundamentals of mail delivery, I just drove to the distribution center and picked up the CD myself. I find these things work better when you cut out the middle man...especially when the middle man is a moron.
...I'd turn today's calendar art into a Vox post.
Maybe it was because I had so much pumpkin pie coursing through my veins, but Saturday night at the Southgate House felt like something special to me. Simply put, it was the best night of music I've seen this year. I'm writing this on Monday and I'm still kind of buzzing from it.
I got to the venue about 40 minutes early. I staked out my spot and then headed for the merch table. I'd just bought two CDs and a poster when Peter Buck strolled out of the dressing room and asked if anybody wanted anything signed. I was the only person there, so he grabbed my poster and started scribbling his name on it. He looked up at me and said, "I think I've seen you before." I told him I'd seen him earlier in the year at the Triple Door, but before I could confess that we'd never actually met, he jumped in with a, "Yeah, I thought I recognized you." Of course, there's no way Peter Buck would recognize me. I think that's just what he says because he runs into so many people who claim to know him. Anyway, talking to rock stars is hard, so I has happy when two women ran up for a picture and I was able to lurk back into the shadows.
Although this show was billed as the Minus 5 with the Baseball Project & the Steve Wynn IV, it was really just one band with four members (Scott McCaughey, Steve Wynn, Linda Pitmon, Peter Buck). The name of the band changed depending upon whose song they were playing at any given moment. Throughout the course of the evening, they not only became the billed bands, but managed to morph into the Dream Syndicate, Gutterball, and even Neil Young. I don't think ripping the hell out of "Revolution Blues" really transformed them into Neil, though.
Regardless of what you called them, the band played two sets of rock and roll. Highlights from the first set included a new Baseball Project song about Reggie Jackson called "The Straw That Stirs the Drink", a version of "Tell Me When it's Over" by Steve Wynn's old band, and the greatest of all the baseball songs, "Ted Fucking Williams". I'm usually very laid back and quiet at concerts, but I must admit I was shouting out the chorus to that last song. If I'm given the chance to cuss in public in a socially accepted manner, then I'm going to take it every time. Goshdarnit.
Here are the songs from the first set:
- Past Time (Baseball Project)
- Sometimes I Dream of Willie Mays (Baseball Project)
- Out There on the Maroon (Minus 5)
- I'm Not Bitter (Minus 5)
- That's What You Always Say (Dream Syndicate)
- Wait Til I Get to Know You (Steve Wynn)
- Hotel Senator (Minus 5)
- The Straw That Stirs the Drink (Baseball Project)
- It Won't Do You Any Good (Minus 5)
- The Lurking Barrister (Minus 5)
- Vintage Violet (Minus 5)
- Fernando (Baseball Project)
- The Yankee Flipper (Baseball Project)
- Tell Me When It's Over (Dream Syndicate)
- The Medicine Show (Dream Syndicate)
- Lies of the Living Dead (Minus 5)
- Ted Fucking Williams (Baseball Project)
I'm not usually an autograph man, but Peter Buck had already signed my poster, so I went down to the merch table in between the sets and got the other three musicians' signatures. I figured if I already had Peter Buck down, I might as well get the rest. I'm glad I did this as it gave Scott McCaughey a chance to compliment me on my shirt (the Red Light find with the tiny flowers on it that look like strawberries). Scott McCaughey is my rock and roll hero and just about the coolest guy around, so a compliment from him made me sort of float a tiny bit. I wish I'd brought him a piece of pie.
The second set came and it was as good as the first. Scott McCaughey rocked so hard that one of his trademark Chucks fell off. He played the rest of the show in one shoe. He didn't even bother to put it on when he went offstage before the encore.
The highlights of the second set included new Baseball Project songs about Pete Rose and Ichiro, the previously mentioned Neil Young cover, the Dream Syndicate's "Days of Wine and Roses", and the Minus 5's "Aw Shit Man". Once again, I cussed along to the final song.
Here are the songs from the second set:
- Ambulance Dancehall (Minus 5)
- Satchel Paige Said (Baseball Project)
- The Death of Big Ed Delahanty (Baseball Project)
- Long Before My Time (Baseball Project)
- Tonight You're Buying Me a Drink, Bub (Minus 5)
- Pete Rose Way (Baseball Project)
- Harvey Haddix (Baseball Project)
- Cindy, It Was Always You (Steve Wynn)
- Twilight Distillery (Minus 5)
- Broken Man (Baseball Project)
- Trial Separation Blues (Gutterball)
- Ichiro Goes to the Moon (Baseball Project)
- Revolution Blues (Neil Young)
- The Days of Wine and Roses (Dream Syndicate)
- Teenage Head (Flamin' Groovies)
- Aw Shit Man (Minus 5)
The band left the stage for about 25 seconds and then came back for a four song encore.
- The Girl I Never Met (Minus 5)
- Dark Hand of Contagion (Minus 5)
- The Closer (Baseball Project)
- Amphetamine (Steve Wynn)
The show finally ended and I drove on home. I ate some more pie, listened to my new copy of Butcher Covered, got some setlist help from GoogleGirl, and then went to bed at about 3:00 in the morning.
Inspired by Emily, I've decided to photograph my To Be Read (TBR) shelf. That's actually her term for it. My much wordier term is Books I've Already Bought But Haven't Gotten Around to Reading Yet. The acronym for that is BIABBHGATRY which is an unpronounceable mouthful, so I'm going to switch over to TBR for the sake of this post.
Here's the picture:
In case you don't feel like zooming in, here are the titles from left to right:
- Skeleton Crew--Stephen King
- Every Man Dies Alone--Hans Fallada
- 2666--Roberto Bolaño
- Pride and Prejudice and Zombies--Jane Austen
- Love in the Ruins--Walker Percy
- Finding Time Again--Marcel Proust
- The Mystery of Edwin Drood--Charles Dickens
- Minor Robberies--Deb Olin Unferth
- How the Water Feels to the Fishes--Dave Eggers
- Hard to Admit and Harder to Escape--Sarah Manguso
- Dressed for Death--Donna Leon
I would like to finish all of these books this year, but I'm not sure if that's realistic. Even if I started today, 3,959 pages is a lot to read in a few months. As it is, I couldn't start today even if I wanted to. I'm currently reading the fifth and sixth books (in one volume) of Marcel Proust's In Search of Lost Time along with Stephen King's short story collection Nightmares & Dreamscapes. I have 752 pages left in those two books.
4,711 is far too many pages to read before January, so I'm just going to forget about that. I wouldn't enjoy it anyway. I think my real goal is to finish the Proust. I've been reading 25 pages each day. At that rate, I should finish up the entire In Search of Lost Time on October 19th. On October 20th, I'll probably start yapping about how it's the greatest novel ever. I won't actually believe that, of course. It'll just be my way of bragging that I finished.
Today is Beatles Day. I have no interest in video games or remastered versions of CDs I already own, but I went up to Everybody's Records today anyway. I picked up a copy of this month's Mojo which comes with a CD of other artists doing the songs from Abbey Road. Of course, they won't approach the brilliance of the originals, but I sometimes enjoy listening to things like this.
My main reason for the trip to the record store was to buy the reissue of Crazy Rhythms by the Feelies. I've been trying to buy a legitimate copy of Crazy Rhythms for about three years. They keep publishing release dates, but the CD never actually gets released. It's happened at least five times. Everybody's didn't have any this time either. I'm not sure if it's because they didn't order any or if it got pushed back again. I guess I will have to listen to my bootleg mp3s for awhile longer.
I didn't leave empty-handed, of course. I picked up a live EP by the Dream Syndicate called This is Not the New Dream Syndicate Album...Live! I'm currently in the middle of a Steve Wynn crashcourse so I'll better appreciate his performance at the Minus 5 concert later this month. I have a copy of What I Did After My Band Broke Up and now I have some live selections from that band. That should be enough, I guess. But anyway, I'm really enjoying everything related to Steve Wynn that I've heard so far. If only I hadn't been afraid of the word "paisley", I would've been digging on him a long time ago.
Oh, and if you look at the above picture, you'll also see my recently purchased copy of Standing on a Beach by the Cure. I grew up hating the Cure, but it turns out I like some of their songs...specifically "The Lovecats" and "A Forest". I bought it on vinyl because I think the hand-tinted cover art is kind of pretty.
One more thing...I think it's about time I shared my copy of The Early (Zombie) Beatles. It's essentially The Early Beatles LP, but I've filled in their eyes with red ink to make them look spooky. If the Beatles can be in a video game, then nothing is sacred anymore, so it's perfectly alright to deface one of their old records. That's how I look at it.
It rained very hard over the weekend and I thought I heard dripping in the attic. I got out my ladder and climbed on up. The floor of the attic isn't for walking on, but there's a sturdy frame around the entrance, so I sat on that and had a look around with a dying flashlight. I didn't see any water damage or drips, but I did see a tiny bat hanging upside down by one of the air vents. I climbed down, got my camera, and climbed back up again. I took the bat's picture, but it didn't turn out well. He was clearly visible with the naked eye, but the flash photography seems to have placed more emphasis on the mesh he's hiding behind. You can still make out his shape at the top right corner of the vent. You can also see the guano (aka "bat shit") that's accumulated at the bottom of the vent. I don't mind if Batty the House Bat lives with me, but I do think it's inconsiderate not to take it outside.
Okay, here's the situation: Hotrod is on his way home from work. He's got his briefcase in his hand and he's happy to have put in another day making the world a better place. He's going around a bend in the river when his canoe is suddenly ambushed by Kearney, Dolph, and Jimbo Jones, the gang of bullies from The Simpsons. Things have changed, though. The bullies have graduated from nerd beatings and graffiti all the way up to armed assaults and kidnappings. It's looking dire for our canoe-riding friend and neighbor.
Kearney is armed with a rifle. Dolph has two revolvers. Jimbo is leading the attack with raised fist and a gun of his own. Fortunately for Hotrod, his canoe has been tricked-out with a very large machine gun. Will it be enough? Can he aim his gun while maneuvering the rapids? Will the bully gang capture Hotrod, cut off his nose, and steal his briefcase? Who will win the third and final installment of The Battle of the Fancypants Toys? I honestly don't know. You tell me.
