NYComic Industriousness

I got a letter to the editor regarding this blog the other day. "My dear Wetzel," it read. "How come you tease us with mentions of high-profile New York city comics panel appearances only to provide us with nothing but fruity homilies about the beauty of central park and music videos featuring Turkish men in disco outfits?"

It's a good question. I realize I've been a bit remiss when it comes to posting about the actual fun and exciting events in life, such as last week's visit to New York. Many outlines of blog posts unfinished litter the desks and tables of my apartment, tucked into drawers or scribbled on the backs of envelopes and theater billings. Most of these will remain unpublished, and it's probably best this way. But since you asked, I'll go ahead and tell you about my little trip last week.

I went to New York for a business trip, but as far as the comics industry goes, it's hard not to mix in some pleasure, laughs and drinks, and a sunny streak of days made the city a pretty nice place to be. I went to dinner with a couple of the cartoonist on Universal Press's roster, including Mark Tatulli (Lio, Heart of the City) and one of my other heros, Ruben Bolling (Tom the Dancing Bug). The rest of the time I hung out at our booth at the event or just walked around picking up various comic books and either putting them back down with a polite smile or ponying up for my own copy. It's fun to buy stuff directly from the creators, especially if they draw a little picture for you on the inside cover.

Even though it's larger each year, New York Comiccon is much more endearing to me than the giant one out in San Diego. In San Diego the gaslamp district is literally overrun by freaks, kids, acned manga princesses, 12-year-old Sith lords, paunchy superheroes and people who would probably be wearing a cape anyway. The San Diego event has a glizy Hollywood feel to it, with tons of movie stars, video games and all the pop-cultural cotton candy one can imagine. The New York event, by contrast, is only visible immediately surrounding the Jacob K. Javitz center. Once you've walked a few blocks away, the crowd fades quickly from sight, like an isolated little enclave of freaks in the much larger freak colony that is New York City.

The event gets pretty packed by Saturday, but it's easy to move around and talk to people for most of Friday. I met a bunch of peeps and took part in the panel discussion about the history of comics along with some other folks in the industry. We had a good chat, with a fair amount of lamenting how stagnant comics pages have become.

For example, Mark mentioned that you can't send Beetle Bailey to Iraq because that would totally mess up the universe Walker has created for that strip. And you can't drop Beatle Bailey from the newspapers because an elderly will write in or call and complain. And the kids these days don't read the newspapers, and they're running out of money, and nobody wants to offend anybody. Basically the same old laments as well as a bit of hypothesizing about future profit models. We had a good discussion, but it would have been fun if we'd had time for more than one audience question/rant. As we're often reminded, people don't really care about syndicates. They just want to read the comics they like -- a fact that the new gocomics.com Web site is planning to accomodate with a number of Web 2.0 bells and whistles.

The conclusion, if there was one, was that syndicates will adapt with changing markets. The three or four-panel formats we're used to seeing comics in will carry on for at least a while yet, even as the Internet opens up the playing field to all varieties of creators, enthusiasts, entrepreneurs and innovators, several of which are linked to on the "Funny Pages" sidebar on this site, by the way.

I didn't attend many other panels except for a group chat with Ender's Game author Orson Scott Card, who shared some writing advice and gave an update on the Ender's Game movie, which no longer has director Wolfgang Peterson attached ("It will be made brilliantly, or it will be made after I'm dead," OSC said).

I realize that this is probably not terribly interesting so far, so I'll close the Comic Con-related half of this New York post with a few of the most interesting sites I've come across at the conventions I've attended so far in both San Diego and New York.

-- A fat stormtrooper eating a burger in the Javitz center food court, all by himself and looking very tired

-- A fit-looking stormtrooper posing by the crosswalk outside the Javitz center, like an aberrantly attired and futuristically armed member of the Port Authority, occasionally posing with civilians and/or pretending to gun them down while their friends took pictures

-- Along the train tracks outside the convention center in San Diego, a large crowd gathered to watch as a man in a superman outfit "held up" a BNSF train that was stopped on the tracks

-- A zombie walk through San Diego with probably close to 100 people taking part (I've heard rumors of a Westport zombie walk in May, by the way, so keep your eyes peeled and your dead buried)

-- A black Vietnam veteran wearing army fatigures, marching down the sidewalk in the dead of night, saluting invisible comrades and shouting out orders to no one in particular.

(actually, that last one was something I observed from my front porch in Kansas City, but I think it fits in there somehow)

I'll finish up with a few notes about the city and hopefully a few fun-saver pics once I pick those up from the photo place.

In the meantime, I just put some new strings on my old classical guitar so I'll probably be playing that if anybody wants to like, jam or something.

Thursday Tracks: Internationalerockvideonacht / Amerikanischerundfunkblogarithm

I found this video of French-Canadian teen pop group Les Lutins earlier this week. I knew this song and had put it on a mix-tape or two, not thinking too much about what the vocalist looked like. In fact, I hadn't really thought through whether I thought it was male or female. Then I saw this. I wouldn't have guessed they were this young, but he's a very spirited fellow and it's a catchy tune. Take that, Jonas Brothers!


Next up, in my perpetual quest to listen to all Turkish folk/psych rockers of note, I found this from Baris Manco. It's called "Hal Hal," and it's got one of those infectious electric hooks he's so known for. They're like a Turkish P-funk, straddling folk and disco as well as bridging Europe and Asia. And if you think I'm being willfully obscurist, keep in mind this thing has 404,000 views at the time of my sharing it.

This isn't a video, but it's a great song by Erasmo Carlos, a Brazilian fellow who Stinj turned me on to. If it's currently the era of the Brazilian Hipster, as some would attest, songs like this certainly deserve some of the credit.

Oh, man. I just found this:


It's a medley of tunes in a variety of styles. The audience's appreciation and Erasmo's shy smile at about the minute mark make this a particularly lovely take.

While I'm showcasing hand-drums, long hair and high fashion, why not end this with a lovely ambient showing by German progressive/kraut/experimental rockers Popol Vuh, the folks whose music Herzog used for his film scores.



The hazy landscape in the video actually reminds me of the shot of barley waving in the wind set in Herzog's "The Mystery of Kaspar von Hauser."

The guy who posted this has a number of videos up at youtube.com/user/orangefunk, several from a great rebroadcasting of WDR's "Die Deutschrock Nacht."

Even if you don't enjoy the music in these, they're chock-full of fashion tips. But I think you'll like at least one of them. Until next time.

I Spend A Day In Central Park

April 17, 12:35 p.m.

Was not quite prepared for the city, so I headed in a zig-zag fashion to Central Park.

First I stopped at Bryant Park and ate a strawberry torte with a coffee from a nearby delicatessen. Flocks of children playing, sunshine on buildings, couples and single folks sitting at tables so leisurely it could be a Seurat painting.

Walked past delis, pizza parlors and curiosity shops, bought a pen and fun-saver camera. Sidewalks full of important-looking people, high-fashion girls benefiting from the finest cosmetics, hairstyles and sunglasses money can by. How so many people walk so many blocks in such high heels amazes me.

The sight of magnolia trees, statues, colorful striped awnings of hot-dog vendors at the corner at 59th and 5th Avenue sent a wave of good cheer through my weary frame. The same Central Park I remember, rocks and tunnels sculpted into the landscape, people everywhere, jogging, walking dogs, riding bikes, pushing strollers. A beautiful day.

Jazz quartets playing lazy trumpet solos. People lining the benches reading the daily news, talking with each other or playing with cell phones.

I snapped a photo for a couple as they stood atop the terrace overlooking the lake.

Slept for a while under a bright cherry tree, using my carry-on bag as a pillow. A guy with three dogs, three girls smoking cigarettes on a blanket and a listless African man with a worn-out bag and wooden drum rounded out my surroundings.

Went to the Neue Galerie on 86th Street and marveled at the intricate brooches and belt-buckles designed by the Wiener Werkstätte. When I good-naturedly asked the guard if they sold replicas of the jewelry in the gift shop, he said coldly, "These are not for sale." I think he might have misunderstood me.

Other items of interest in the museum included dozens of studies by Klimt of women fingering themselves in various postures, and the crown jewel, a bright blue painter's smock of Klimt's with wizard-like designs stitched on the shoulders in yellow thread.

A lindzer tort and a coffee later and I found myself back at the park. I read a bit from the Trakl book I bought at the galerie and finally fell into a real sleep on the lawn, only to be awakened by a child approaching me while screaming something in an indecipherable kid language. I didn't hold it against him, though. He was smiling and probably only about 3 years old.

I stopped and listened to a man with a white beard and bright green sweater play a pair of sonatas on an electric keyboard, reading off of some careworn sheet music with the word "BACH" printed on the front, an umbrella and a parasol erected decoratively behind him. I gave him four quarters and listened for about that many minutes. Not a bad deal.

I then strolled past the Swedish Cottage Marionette Theater up into the designated quiet space of the Shakespeare Garden. Full of flowers, beautiful old oak benches and tasteful inscriptions from the Bard, including these lines from "As You Like It":

Heigh-ho, sing heigh-ho, unto the green holly.
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
Then heigh-ho, the holly.
This life is most jolly.

Enjoyed a lookout from the restored grandeur of the Belvedere Castle, lingering on the ramparts and gazing out south over the lake.

Some girls sitting near the statue of King Jagiello gave me a lighter after I begged a light, smiling and saying I could keep it.

I found a seat outside the Alice in Wonderland statue and watched a bald crazy fellow run erratically in circles. Just when it looked like he was about to jump in the pond, he'd arc back and change his course before running in a circle all over again.

At 7:45 I left the park to meet an associate for dinner.

It was an altogether dainty and delightful afternoon!

(confession: the picture above is one Jenn took in Kansas City, but I did see many trees like it in the park and I haven't had the time to develop my fun-saver film just yet)

keeping it short and reality-based

Can't blog much right now. I've got a cold and I took some Claritin D (in case it's allergies) so I'm stuffed-up and pharmy-headed. So today I'll just hit you with this heartwarming true story from this week...

I was at the Shell station on Main the other day on my way out of town. I didn't think I had enough change for the turnpike so while I was fueling up I dug around in the seat cushions. An old guy came up and asked me for some change so he could buy a beer. I told him I didn't have enough to share and said sorry. He said don't ever be sorry. Then he looked in my back windshield and saw the chocolate Easter Bunny that's been sitting there since Easter.

"Is that candy?" he asked. I said yes. "Is it mine?" Sure, I said, though I'm afraid it might have melted a little. "That don't matter," he said, not taking his eyes off the thing. I pulled it out of the back and gave it to him, along with a cold beer that I had in my shoulder bag.

He said thanks and walked off, still staring at his new treasures. I hung up the fuel hose and got back in the car, where I found an extra cache of coins under my coffee mug, enough for the toll and then some.

Then I drove to Lawrence.

Events

If you're in Kansas City this weekend, come check out the Open Studios at the Hobbs Building.

And if you're in New York City next weekend, come heckle me at this discussion panel taking place at the NY Comic Con.

Both events should be fun.

Bringing it all back home...

"Why must it always end in heartbreak?" I asked my friend Kyle as KU sank to a 9-point deficit in the waning minutes of tonight's NCAA basketball championship. "That's just the balance of fate," he replied.

And then -- with all the predictability of a Kansas tornado -- the balance of fate swung in our favor.

75-68.

Unbelievable.

In honor of the Hawks' vicennial victories in the championship, I thought I'd share this song called "Hawk it To 'Em," unearthed a few years back by Jayhawk DJ Balagan (you can read more about the song itself on his homepage).

More from me soon, but until then, you may rest assured that early reports that I am currently serving jail time for lighting roman candles on Mass. St. were false.

Take care. Rock Chalk. And remember to "keep it classy."

LHW

I found this postcard at the Clinton Store near Bloomington Beach at Clinton Lake. I can't remember exactly what the caption says on the back, but I believe it's a photo on file at the State historical society of a child reunited with his long-lost Jayhawk foster family. A fitting image for this festive occasion.

Addendum: It's hard to imagine a song more appropriate for Hawks fans than "Hawk it to 'em" (except for those dated Orange Bowl references), but I thought I'd post one more celebratory soul song this morning. It's a track by Esther Williams from the Best of Jazzman compilation called "Last Night Changed It All." Enjoy.

Traveling En Masse to March on Mass. Street

A Normal Summer Saturday in Beautiful Downtown Lawrence:


Last Saturday Night:

(And that's blocks from where the largest concentration of folks were)

Much more from me soon about rumblings and rumors of a championship in Larrytown, but it is not yet the time to reflect. It's the time to anticipate and then -- hopefully -- to celebrate.

Both photographs by Jenn.

P.S. If anybody has any spare change, make sure to buy Derrick Rose some more gummy bears.

P.P.S> Getting on the roof is a bit sticker situation than it was when I lived on that block. They grease up the ledge now. Fortunately, all that petroleum jelly comes off of your hands after about 15 hand-slaps. Not to hard to come by on a night like Saturday.

KU Final Four Rap

This rap song, "LuvThatCrimsonBlue" is both timely and hilarious. My brother e-mailed it to me last night, and it looks like it's spreading among the Jayhawk faithful rather rapidly, thanks to Bic Media.

skittish

All right, I know trying to initiate a dialog on a blog with as small and apathetic a readership (and authorship) as this one is like trying to discuss world events at a rural saloon where the only customers are three regulars with their heads half-buried in buckets of the local blue collar lager. In other words, I don't have high expectations for starting a meaningful conversation here. But I'll give it a try.

I've been thinking a lot about hip-hop lately. Rap music. Whatever you want to call it. Just as long as there's that tic tic followed by that bump.

Rap is so completely co-opted by advertising culture, and yet you'll never feel as cool as you do when driving around with your windows open, the verbal barrage of some high-flying emcee blasting out of your car speakers over a nice sample and a phat beat.

I even went so far as to write and record a rap song once, which was a fun experience that also gave me an appreciation for how challenging it really is to compose and deliver effective, fast-paced rhymes while still maintaining a smooth flow.

So even though it's possible for a white kid such as myself to record a hip-hop tune (albeit a mostly humorous one), there's a social and racial divide I'll never make it across, an underlying tension and intensity I'll likely never feel the same way an authentic rapper would.

While reading through the now-retracted LA Times Story last week about the 1994 attack on Tupac (if you haven't seen it yet, don't miss reading the part about how Tupac accidentally shot himself in the groin while being attacked, then dragged himself into the elevator, rode bleeding down to the lobby, rolled a joint and called his girlfriend on his cell phone before medics and cops arrived on the scene, at which point he was wheeled out on a stretcher while raising a middle finger to the assembled photographers and news media) I marveled at what a totally different reality someone like that lives in. Even the folks who pull up to the stoplight outside my building late at night blasting that glitchy krunk shit that passes for hip-hop these days are clearly living in a far different city than I do, even if it's just a mile or so away.

Most likely there's little reconciling these two worlds. But what would it sound like if we tried?

Before I turn the discussion over to you all, I'll give you a tiny bit more background. I was driving to Illinois with my friend Jon a few months back, listening to the collected works of Ghostface Killah on my minivan's quite impressive sound system. Normally I would have skipped past all the skits and filler, but because it was a 5-hour drive, we decided to let them play, discussing the history, structure and notable examples of the hip-hop skit. And then Jon posed the question, "If indie rockers included skits on their albums, what would they be about?"

A few ideas crossed our head initially, but rather than allow those to taint your thoughts, I thought I'd see what you bring to the table. I usually don't ask much of my readers, so don't let me down this time. The future of modern music depends on it.

Dudestachery and Miscreancy

While I'm linking to other blogs, columns and late 18th century texts, I thought I'd go ahead and introduce a couple other favorite reads of mine.

Most recent to appearon my blog radar (a high-tech operation I run out of my garage manned by rejected space chimps and university students in need of college credit) is a site called Dudestach.blogspot.com, where you will find enlightening posts such as this one called "Roughly 13 Yao Mings."

My favorite Kansas City blog is definitely "The Random Ramblings of a Midtown Miscreant." This guy lives in the same part of town as I do, from what I gather, but takes a more direct and in-depth approach to exploring what makes Kansas City unique and what the real issues are behind the many problems its citizens face. He's not afraid to call people out on messing up, and he's got some great stories about the unsavory characters he found himself surrounded by while growing up in KC.

I'll be back tomorrow with a very serious question that I'm going to ask for your input on. See you then.

Gossip on the Internet

Great column from Honolulu Star-Bulletin writer Curt Brandao examining the feasibility of cutting down on gossip and b.s. on the Internets.

Will somebody help this man out please?

He wants to play board games. And drink coffee. He'll even shave for you. And your significant other. Help a brother out!

Goethe on blogging

"The greatest evil of our time -- which lets nothing come to fruition -- is, I think, that one moment consumes the next, wastes the day within that same day and so is always living from hand to mouth without achieving anything of substance. Don't we already have news-sheets for every point of the day! A clever man might well be able to slip in one or two more. In this way everything that anyone does, is working at or writing, indeed plans to write, is dragged out into the open. No one is allowed to be happy or miserable except as a pastime for the rest of the world, and so news rushes from house to house, from town to town, from one country to another, and, in the end, from one continent to the next, and all on the principle of speed and velocity."

-- from Wilhelm Meister's Journeyman Years

Leon Dimanche et Les Lionceaux des Cayes

Okay. I admit the last post might have been a bit insincere, homoerotic and over-the-top. I lost a staring contest with (a poster of) Andre Rieu some years ago and have never been the same since. I thought I'd follow that silliness up with a sincere recommendation of one of my favorite musicians, Haitian guitarist and singer Leon Dimanche.

Dimanche and the Les Lionceaux des Cayes group were very popular in the seventies in Haiti and beyond. I first heard a few tracks on a mix given to me by DJ Balagan, and had to search for a while before I could track anything down myself. Fortunately someone has posted audio files of songs from his 1973 album on a Haitian Web site. You can find those here.

There's some more information about Leon Dimanche at his home page and you can buy some of his older albums at Wagmarlove online store.

Rieumors & Rieumance

While reading the KC Star Web site today and playing the customary game of "whack-a-mole" with the pop-up ads, I came across one advertisement that sent spasms of delight down my culture-starved spine. Andre Rieu, world's most beloved violinist, will be appearing at the Sprint Center on Friday, April 18.

Heralded far and wide as the "King of the Waltz," Andre Rieu perpetually tours the world, playing elegantly upon the strings of his 1732 Stradivarius as well as the heartstrings of middle-aged women around the globe. Occasionally mistaken for Mel Gibson's character in the Patriot, Andre Rieu and his Strauss Orchestra have hypnotized and delighted literally countless classical music fans over the years.

Seeing Andre Rieu in concert has been referred to by many fans as a life-changing experience. Who, they ask, upon hearing Rieu's version of "My Heart Will Go On" (from his "Andre Rieu at the Movies" album) could ever hope to be the same? And what person with functioning ears and beating heart would dare deny the majesty of Rieu and Company's "The Blue Danube," performed live at Royal Albert Hall and punctuated by the booming of fireworks?

However, it is not simply the compositions he interprets but the soul-stirring facial expressions he composes mid-performance that elevate Rieu to the deific heights reserved for those such as Mozart, Yanni and Groban. In the same way that the far-reaching aria of an opera singer can shatter the finest crystal, a single meaningful glance from the virtuosic visage of Dutch violinist Rieu can break hearts.

There are many rumors circulating about the man -- nay, the enigma -- that is Andre Rieu. There are claims of an invalid at a Medjugorjean monastery being drawn out of bed and into a spontaneous waltz upon hearing the artful swells of Rieu's "Swinging Bells of Limburg" on the order's antique phonograph. There has been excitement for years in both the hip-hop and classical communities that if a long-anticipated collaboration between Andre Rieu and Outkast's Andre Benjamin takes place, the two genres will be united to usher in a golden-age of popular world music.

Yes, there is much magic and mystery surrounding Andre Rieu. And as ebullient as this write-up of mine may be, one must (after all) decide for oneself. On April 18, for the starting price of $50, this chance can be yours.

Backyard Bouncin'

My brothers and I enjoyed some natural highs on Easter Sunday


Jenny was on hand to photo-document


I got to show off my new striped socks


But I ripped up the sleeve on my dress shirt


How's this for a nice family portrait?

To view the whole Easter Trampoline Egg-straviganza photo series, click here

Frohe Karfreitag

If anybody wants to compete in this year's Easter Art Contest, feel free to send me your entries. In the meantime, feel free to take funky solace in this number from the Gospel Comforters entitled "Jesus Will Help Me."

Cross near the Huguenot Memorial in Franschhoek, South Africa.

Iraq Chalk, revisited

It was fun to watch new ESPN commentator Bobby Knight poke holes in the pseudoscience of bracketology after the KU game on Sunday. While the other announcers did their best to analyze the advantages of seedings and locations, Knight insisted that it didn't matter, visibly flinching when his co-anchor tried to lay a hand on his shoulder. It was pretty amusing.

However, it's a bit sad when you think of how much attention we pay to the NCAA tournament each year in comparison to other things. Like the war in Iraq, for example. If we applied the money, attention and enthusiasm we give to bracketology on solving some kind of social issue, just imagine what we could accomplish. Instead of filling out brackets, we could all submit our own exit (or occupation) strategies. If enough office pools got involved, we could put our heads together and maybe figure out a way to pull out completely before 2099.

Five years ago this month, what I remember people taking to the streets about was not the start of a war, it was our basketball team advancing to the final four. A Lawrence Journal-World story about U.S. servicemen cheering on the Jayhawks from the desert was accompanied by the glib headline, "Iraq Chalk Jayhawk," followed up a few days later by "Hawk and Awe."

This isn't to say that I don't like basketball. Seeing Mario (Mare-ee-oh, as they pronounce it) drop 8 threes and 30 points on the Longhorns on Sunday was nothing short of beautiful. And as this puff piece from today demonstrates, politics and basketball aren't entirely incompatible.

Alls I'm saying is it's been five years since the war started and our generation still doesn't seem to be paying any attention.

If you give half a s*** what other people our age are up to overseas while we watch tourney games, go to South by Southwest, get drunk and enjoy day-to-day life, I recommend visiting Doonesbury's The Sandbox, a military blog made up of posts from troops in Iraq and Afghanistan. The entries from these soldiers cover a whole range of subjects and emotions dealing with the war, and I find it pretty fascinating to read the accounts of people who are stationed there, unfiltered by media or political bias.

So I'll get off my high horse now and close this post with the wish that you all enjoy the tournament and have a great holy week. But as a veteran of final-four fall-out, let me kindly remind you not to take March Madness too literally.



Photo credits: Top photo taken from fan-submitted pics on kusports.com. Above photo from Joplin, MO circa fall 2005.

Steamboat Clutchy

But who is Clutchy Hopkins?

Even if you don't care -- and I can't say I really do -- it's a great album. You can find it at Love Garden or on iTunes.

Excerpts From The Joplin Sign Graveyard Gazette

In our off-work hours, Jenn and I moonlight as photographer and reporter for the Joplin Sign Graveyard Gazette, an independent publication chronicling commercial failures, phantoms and parking lots full of retired signs. Below is a sampling of this week's issue. Headline suggestions accepted and encouraged.


Amateur Missouri Aviator Backs Plane Into Gas Pump


Midwesterners fail to practice Aldi's 'Spend A Little, Live A Lot' Philosophy in safe, responsible manner


Giant Tornado Brings Tragic End To Huge Savings (thanks, Snakin)


R.I.P. Bob Evans


Too Much Was Riding On These Tires


(your headline here)

Music for March, part 1

After finally getting used to (i.e. learning how to tune out) the sounds of soft classical music and the occasional triumphant blast of Vivaldi in my office building, someone decided to switch the muzak to a blend of smooth jazz, lounge and lite-salsa. Though I only have to listen to it while strolling through the lobby or into the parking garage, it's amazing how sarcastic a mood it puts me in. I just want to shout at everybody, "Come on! You can't possibly be serious!"

Rather than make a spectacle, however, I decided to make a mix tape instead. Each song (well, most songs) have something to do with a particular day in March thus far. Though I'm getting ahead of myself a bit, I went ahead and posted the first half of the month for your enjoyment. You can stream the songs by clicking on them individually, or download the whole mix as a zipped file by following the link at the bottom of the post.

Hope you like it.

Saturday, March 1 -- And I Love You by Darling Dears

I didn't see any cherry blossoms in bloom, but the day's warm temperatures matched the pleasant tone of this tune.

Sunday, March 2 -- Sunday Coming by Anton Ellis

Anton sounds less like himself and more like mister Marley on this album, but it maps out the week nicely.

Monday, March 3 -- Monday's Rain by The Clientele

It rained on Monday, at least in the very early morning hours

Tuesday, March 4 -- Politics is Showbusiness by Peter Sarstedt

A fitting tune for the day's primaries, by the guy who sings the recurring song from "The Darjeeling Limited."

Wednesday, March 5 -- Birthday by Blur

"What a strange day/I think of you day."

Thursday, March 6 -- The Birthday by The Idle Race

"She had a birthday yesterday, she cried/Took off her glasses let her hair down, cried"

Friday, March 7 -- Cold Rain And Snow by The Grateful Dead

1966 at the Avalon Ballroom

Saturday, March 8 -- Casio Bossa nova by Holy F**k

Saw them play at the Record Bar on this night. Lived up to its name.

Sunday, March 9 -- Sunday by Sonic Youth

Live version

Monday, March 10 -- Dies Bildnis Ist Bezaubernd Schön from Mozart's Die Zauberflöte, aria by Modest Menzinsky

My first trip to the Opera in several years. Still a few showings at the Lyric this week -- an excellent performance if you're willing to shell out. www.kcopera.org

Tuesday, March 11 -- I Wanna Be Your Dog by Uncle Tupelo

Young Tweedy's take on the Stooges' classic

Wednesday, March 12 -- Untitled improvisation by Paul Metzger

This guy is playing a free in-store at Kief's Downtown Music in Lawrence on 3/12 at 5 p.m. He plays a custom-made 22-string banjo.

Thursday, March 13 -- This Time Tomorrow by Sisters Love

Friday, March 14 -- Friday's Child by Lee Hazlewood

Saturday, March 15 -- Problems by Mahjongg

Saturday night at the Jackpot. Don't miss Mahjongg, from Columbia by way of Chicago.

Download complete mix.

Afterthought: After seeing Bergman's "Cries and Whispers" on Tuesday I should have included Chopin's Mazurka in A Minor Op. 17 No. 4, which sifted aurally through the bookends of the film. I challenge you to find a more bittersweet, lovely and haunting mazurka as the old A Minor Op. 17 No. 4. I simply do not believe it can be done.

Today in History: March 6

From the March 6, 2003 edition of the University Daily Kansan


This is the kind of thing I used to write for the University Daily Kansan. Complete text is in the comments section, in case the scanned-in article is too hard to read (you can also click the images to enlarge). Bonus points if you can tell me the name of the poet Ryan Clinger quotes at the tail end of the story.

"Stroll On"

Recently a friend known as The Muffin Girl tipped me off to an unlikely sight -- a guitar and some drums strung up at the tippy-top of the street pole at 42nd and Oak. I thought at first she must be joking or at best speaking poetically, but as you can see, they're really there. This explains the faint but unmistakable sounds of rock and roll I hear on windy nights.

Speaking of rock and roll, Ghosty has a new Web site up with lots of great pictures, songs, press clippings and a special short video on the media page that captures Mike Nolte at his most captivating. Here's a snapshot from a short-lived lineup of Ghosty that featured Ed Epps and a 4-year-old girl.



Finally, those of you looking for a hint for the question of "Where did Wetzel find the picture for his new blog banner" might check out the following clip.



Until next time.

Tuesdays at the Tivoli

The Janus Film Series for Spring 2008 has been announced and starts tomorrow. Each movie is only $3, free for UMKC students.

Happy Leap Day

von der Berliner Abendblatt -- Friedrichshain

EXTRATAG FUER LITERATUR

Friedrichshain. Im Ambulatorium des RAW-Tempel an der Revaler Strasse 99 steigt am Freitag, 29. Februar, eine Launch-Party. An diesem Extratag erscheint erstmals das neue englischsprachige Literaturmagazin "the extra room". Herausgeber und Redakteure sind die Amerikaner Adam Collingsworth und Mara Goldwyn. Neben jeder Menge Lesestoff gibt's Live-Musik mit dbZwoVier, Lee Viajero und anderen. Los geht's um 20 Uhr. Der Eintritt frei - Spenden sind erwuenscht.

www.theextraroom.com

Buddy

I heard on the radio last night that drummer Buddy Miles died earlier this week.

I went home and put on the Ramsey Lewis version of Buddy's song "Them Changes," which he performed with Hendrix in "Band of Gypsys." I also found a nice tribute to Buddy Miles on the Funky16Corners site. They'd already posted a couple of tunes, with a nice vinyl crackle still intact.

Have a nice weekend/long live Buddy.

Eurofuchs (fuchseuro)

The Euro climbed to over 1.50 against the dollar this week, making Europe just that much farther away than it was before. However, it does look like there will be a Wetzel brother living in Berlin this year. Though it's someone else this time.

Speaking of Bundeshauptstaedte, can anyone tell me what the photo I used to make the new blog banner is from? The first person to do so wins a 2 euro and 10 cent Koelsch.

More from me once we get Internet installed, which will hopefully be this week. The girl whose connection we were piggybacking on has left the building for good, so after 2 plus years of free 'net at the Aftons, it's time to pony-up.

See you later.

Flatfile

For those of you who may have found the original art in my last post to be distasteful or simply uninspiring, do not despair. There is plenty of fantastic art on display at the Art Space building, located at the Northwest corner of 43rd and Walnut Streets just east of Main. This free show is called the Kansas City Flatfile and features the work of 171 area artists, ranging from students and beginners to professors and professionals. Most of the work is contained in portfolios in file drawers (hence the name flatfile), but there are also wall displays curated by the gallery's directors. The event is also unique in that all proceeds from the sales go directly to the artists.

The photo above was taken a year or two back of the Artspace's project wall by Jenn, who also has some stuff on display at the exhibit.

Another artist whose daily drawings I've been enjoying is T-Bit, who is completing/displaying a drawing for every day of 2008.

Back to the drawing board...

Gnome alone

I walked outside this afternoon to see my mini garden gnome had taken a face plant into the leaf debris that feeds my artificial flowers. Draped by last years St. Patrick's Day beads; yellow plastic arms still carrying a traveler's suitcase. A sunny Sunday and I can't help but wonder how long he's been like this. I guess the important thing is someone finally found him, and perhaps after his rest he'll be ready to stand up and face the inevitable springtime.

Seoul brothers come home (and other musical happenings)

If you've ever been abroad for a long spell, you know that once you return home, the most familiar things can take on a surreal character. Good pal Andrew Morgan described this splendidly in a recent blog post, which I'd like to quote from:

There are blue jays, cardinals, doves, and woodpeckers gathered around the patio birdfeeders, and the grass is half-covered with snow & dead leaves. I keep poking my head out the door to breathe in the crisp, clean air and get a look at the ever-changing sky. It's been eerie & incandescent at night, and a fast-moving assortment of transient metallic colors during the day. All of this seems a miracle to me after having been away.

Andrew's back in Kansas after quite a few months in Korea. He's got some new songs up on his MySpace page from his album, Three Months in Cook County, which will be out sometime this year. This is a picture of Andrew taken in Seoul by his Seoul-mate Kyle Hopkins.


Speaking of Kyle, he'll be coming back this week as well. If you haven't had a chance to read any of his posts about life in Korea, he's got a nice blog as well. A few of my favorite posts of his include this recollection of moments from the big city, a list of the seven words you can't say in Korea and other stories of cultural misunderstandings at their most amusing.

Here's a picture of Kyle with his students last Christmas. I can't tell you which one he is, though.


If you're in the Kansas City area this weekend, you should definitely stop by and check out Snuff Jazz at Jardine's around 11:00 or 11:30. Jardine's is a little jazz bar near 45th and Main. It's probably the exact opposite of the kind of jazz clubs that existed back when this town was rollicking its way through prohibition. It's not particularly smoky, the crowd is almost entirely white, the jazz is that of the dinner variety and if you get up and dance with anything less than the utmost restraint you'll be told it's a fire hazard (because of the candles) and asked to sit back down. So I'm excited to see what happens when Snuff comes to town.



If you're in the mood to hear some great local music but don't want to leave the comfort of your computer, then watch the most recent episode of the Turnpike, which features Suzannah Johannes. In this broadcast, the trio of Suzie, Josh and Dave perform at a retirement home (of all places), except for the last clip, which shows Suzie performing in front of a campfire with some kind of skeleton totem thing in the background. It's sweetly chilling. Or perhaps chillingly sweet.

And, as always, there's lots of great stuff for consumption at www.rangeliferecords.com. Though my favorite is probably still the video for the "Say My Name" remix of White Flight's "The Condition." In addition to being a great song, I have a soft spot for the video because I spent much of last summer in the same room where the guy locates the Space Kitty. I can only hope I absorbed some of that stardust.

Love,

LDHW

Südgelände flashbacks

November 2006

I might try and scan some of Till's black and white shots from that day later tonight. In the meantime, here's some history of the Südgelände Naturpark and how it relates to the "Fourth Nature" concept of Berlin ecologist Ingo Kowarik, who edited the book, "Wild Urban Woodlands."

our national pasttime

"As far as I'm concerned, you could cross-breed Marion Jones with a wolf and that thing should still be allowed to play baseball."

-- Stevie D., making a case for allowing performance-enhancing technology in professional sports

"There may be wars, but Dallas will always be cute."

stories

Here's three quick slices of life from the past week. If you read through to the end, you'll find a nice little Valentines photo/postcard waiting for you.

Ursinister Sights at Brainblow Blvd.

A surreal last night while driving home: the gas station at 43rd and Brainblow Blvd, which shut down 3 years ago and has been boarded up since, reopened last week as a gift store selling nothing but stuffed white teddy-bears of all sizes and carnations by the dozen. It's creepy to sit there at the stoplight with all 2,000 of those bears staring at you, and I could tell that the motorist behind me was a bit weirded out as well. In a couple of days, these bears will probably be shipped back to an amusement park warehouse where they will hibernate for another year. I can't say I'll miss them.

"At Least He Wasn't Wearing Blackface"

I sang karaoke over the weekend for the first time in years. I couldn't find a suitable tune among the pop hits and ballads of the last century, so I opted instead for the old classic, "I've Been Workin' On The Railroad." My friends later told me that it went over fine and that everyone had clapped along, but from my vantage point the general reaction was very WTF? ("wasn't that fantastic?", in case you were wondering) To keep the tune interesting, karaokemeister Brodie manipulated the sound, looping the vocal into a whooshing soundswirl that gave the "Fee Fi Fiddley Eye Oh" breakdown a very trippy quality. So I didn't get booed off the stage or anything, but it might be a while before I show my face at McCoys again. Unless I go hear Paul deejay tomorrow night.

side notee: The whole thing was eerily similar to Monday's "Questionable Content." Yet another case of life imitating Web comics.

Cries In The Night

The other night at about 12:30 I stepped onto the back fire escape for a refreshing blast of cold air. I lit a cigarette and stared out into the fog, where the red lights of KU Med Center flickered like two dozen blinking beacons on a helicopter lighthouse. Everything was quiet. At least at first.

After a few moments I began to hear a faint shrieking sound. I dismissed it initially, not wishing to acknowledge a domestic spat unless it grew impossible to ignore. Pretty soon, though, the screaming got louder, originating from somewhere in the apartments a few buildings away. Just when I had resigned myself to dialing the authorities, someone turned the volume way up and I could hear not only the screams but the blast of an A chord on an electric guitar -- a jangly, cheap stratocaster by the sound of it. The screaming quickly distinguished itself as just another garage rocker caterwauling his way through the night, and before long a harmonica joined in the prerecorded fracas. I laughed and turned to head back inside, relieved to discover that what I was hearing was not a beat-down after all -- just an unexpected and much-needed blast of rock and roll on a cold February night.

Happy Valentines Day, from me and Clinton Lake.

your pal,

lkswtzl