Out Look

Definitely on the summertime blog schedule lately. Plenty to report, but my free time lately has been best spent outdoors, much like the photos above and below. Look for some more snapshots and stories later in the month, and enjoy your summer.

ApocalyptiKC

This day trip I spoke of several weeks ago has turned into a much longer ausflug from the world of blogging and society as a whole. And just in time, too.

The above image, taken by Chris, is an actual photo of what downtown looked like yesterday (thanks to Chris for letting me post this amazing shot). The electrical storm started about 6 p.m. and carried on until well after I finally went to bed at about 2. At about 7:30, a 1,000,000 gallon fuel tanker in Kansas City, Kansas got struck by lightning, sparking a giant fire that rose 20 stories high and is yet to burn out completely.

This, combined with a recent shooting down the street from me that I was still upset about, gave the night a distinctly apocalyptic feel. It didn't help when the downstairs neighbor knocked on my door at midnight to let me know some sketchy middle-aged dude had been peering in her back window before pounding on the back door and demanding gas money for his car 10 blocks away. We called the cops, who checked it out and didn't see anyone.

I had a bit of a horror-movie moment, though, looking out into the porch where she said the guy had been lurking just before the police drove by. The wind and rain was blowing over us, and the intermittent lightning made it pretty easy to see for a few seconds at a time. And just when I was convinced there was nobody out there, I thought heard a noise on the fire escape just above us. Fortunately it was just a cat.

So I'm doing what I can do be a good citizen and look out for the folks in my neighborhood in whatever way I can. I was talking to Jenn about this yesterday and we decided that's one of the main things that separates a community from a neighborhood where no one feels safe. But I feel awful for people like CJ, the name of the kid who was attacked just down the street last Saturday. I generally feel safe in the neighborhood, but you never know when something crazy will happen.

I guess all you can do is take Voltaire's advice and tend to your garden, or in my case, mow the lawn. As of yesterday, I'm now the official grounds keeper for the apartment complex. I'll be mowing the lawn once a week and picking up trash in exchange for a pretty steep reduction in rent. I've even got a bandanna and some neon green t-shirts left over from my days at Westwood Public Works. So if you see what looks like a renegade Johnson County maintenance guy weed-wacking his way through the urban jungles of KCMO, don't be surprised.

Peace.

LW

Gunshots

I normally like to blog about happy things, the cheerful sights and events in my city and beyond. I was actually just writing some lighthearted piece about the neighborhood when I heard what happened last Saturday just down the block from me.

The story and news video clip is here, but to sum it up, a 19-year-old student at Kansas City Art Institute was shot 8 times after refusing to buy drugs from some guy who confronted him on the street. The student had been walking home from work at the time, down the same sidewalks I walk or ride by several times a week.

While trying to find out some more information about this, I came across the blog of one of the nearby residents that heard the shots and screams and ran out to help the victim. The dude (I recognized him as one of the guys who builds and rides around on those freakishly huge bikes) gives a pretty harrowing account (link no longer live) of the sensory intake surrounding the event.

It's easy to be cynical about crime in the city, to either ignore it or invent some justification about why it must have happened. And I know innocent people get messed with every day in this town. But this happened down the street to one of the kids I see walking by all the time. Just imagining that dude getting shot so many times and being tended to by a fellow student while bleeding half to death is pretty distressing.

I suppose I could follow fellow twenty-something trends and buy up in Waldo, Brookside or across state line, but I live here because it's a liveable balance between crack zombies and dog-walking suburban drones. The art students, however, are sort of limited in that most of them need to live near campus. It's a strange contrast, really -- you've got this idyllic little pocket of Kansas City with KCAI, Southmoreland Park, the Nelson, and the Plaza just to the west, but stray north a block or two and all of a sudden you've crossed into a zone where someone might shoot you 8 times because you don't want to buy drugs.

You've also got to wonder what goes through a shooter's mind when they decide to do something like that. In a few seconds you can end or seriously mess up someone's entire life as well as bring a lot of grief to their family and friends. Thankfully the kid didn't die in this case (if he had, I suspect it would have been a much bigger story), but he sustained some pretty heavy injuries and lost an eye.

Most message board posters on stories like this will either a) blame the victim for being out so late at night b) advocate gun control and/or carrying concealed weapons -or- c) turn it into a racial issue, point fingers and cite the downfall of society as we know it.

The (sad) thing is, these kinds of things happen all over town. I doubt people in other neighborhoods feel any less upset by a shooting down their own street than I feel about one in mine. You have to wonder why it is -- beyond socioeconomic and racial factors -- that one neighborhood gets stuck with the stigma of being a bad neighborhood while another gets a reputation for security. I'm not talking Leawood vs. KCMO, either, I'm talking block-to-block, Hyde Park to Ivanhoe, any juncture of space that could be labeled a community.

For people my age, the word "community" generally conjures up associations of meetings, signs, volunteer work, boring luncheons and tea parties and other things we feel there will always be plenty of other and/or older folks to take part in. But community as a concept is actually a lot more basic and integral. To build and be part of a community, people have to look out for each other.

I can't say I do much, but I try and do what I can to be a good citizen. I've given people rides home before in the rain (yes, strangers, and of different ages and races). I'll hand out the odd bit of change, food, beer, etc. if someone asks nicely. I even bought a soda for a kid at the QuikTrip the other day when he realized he didn't have any money (not a monumental deed, but I doubt he'll be shooting at me anytime soon at least).

I'm not about to suggest that we all wear name tags, but we could certainly stand to be a bit friendlier or at least more respectful to one another. If we viewed each other as fellow citizens and not anonymous adversaries in some high-stakes urban drama/video game, this kind of thing will be less likely to happen.

In the meantime, I'll just spell it out simply for those of you trolling through local blogs while polishing your firearms:

Stop. Shooting. Art. Kids.

Please.

Day trippin

I've got 4 days in a row off coming up. Not sure what I'm going to do. There's an option of heading to the Dakotas for a couple of days. But there's also a chance I'll keep it close to home and head out on one of the exciting "Day Trips from Kansas City" listed in books like the one pictured above.

I actually leafed through this book while in line at the Borders in Lawrence. It sounds like there are a number of neat places I haven't been yet. But one thing struck me as funny:

There's a palm tree on the cover.

Yeah, the image is small, but you can plainly see it on the upper right side of the photo. So my question is, what automotive day trip from Kansas City can you take to get to somewhere where there's palm trees? I know you could get somewhere like that in 24 hours, but not there and back again.

Most likely this is just a stock photo used for all "Day Trip" guides. But in case there's some tropical oasis in the vicinity, someone should definitely let me know.

(Oh yeah, and I'm open to suggestions for places that actually exist as well. Gas ain't cheap, but Memorial Day comes but once a year)

Wilderness

I lost a Frisbee last week and am still looking for it. It could be a little while until I find it and am able to blog again. Oh well.

The Return of Balagan

Tonight (Friday) at the Taproom. Also I'm pretty sure there's an event at the Lawrence Art Center as well.

Lizardry

It's nice to have a fixed-up porch and some unique plants to go along with them. But after enjoying quite a few do-nothing evenings and afternoons in the same spot, I was starting to feel like the old man in the tower.

An evening walk is an easy cure for that kind of restlessness, though, now that the weather has finally turned spring-like. Along with refreshing floral scents, there's a nice creative energy in the neighborhood. Either inspired by the weather or just pressured by end-of-the-term deadlines, the art kids have been demonstrating a renewed industriousness as of late. Some carry around fragments of sculpture or large canvases while others tinker with their bikes until the seat is at a comically high (yet still ridable) elevation.

A half-block down Warwick, I found a large reptilian figure leaning against a tree. Even without any apparent head, the thing stands at over six feet. The soft green skin and light yellow stomach painted on the plywood suggest it to be some sort of discarded cutout of Pete's Dragon, but if you tilt the head back into place you'll see it sports the fanged visage of an alligator. Though there are many possible explanations for its unexpected appearance, my guess is someone's mardi gras spirit animal failed to make the spring cleaning/move-out cut.

I spent a fair amount of the last week posting poetic about the magic of Central Park, but tonight's stroll was a nice reminder that KC isn't too bad, either. Although it's a bit narrow and the stone wall on the south end is too steep to easily descend, Southemoreland Park has a faintly aristocratic look to it in the gloaming hour. Pretty soon the nightly rehearsals for the summer Shakespeare fest will be underway, the lights and sounds of which are always strange to stumble upon when you're not expecting them.

The Nelson lawn looks nice as always -- the waterstones and tree-lined promenades on either side of the lawn are now the verdant opposite of the iced-over avenues I walked through just a few months ago. While sitting on a bench in the southeast corner of the lawn, I saw the silhouettes of several figures against the bright lights of the Bloch. A small photography crew had set up a portable changing-booth on the hill, and a slender woman emerged wearing what looked like very fashionable evening attire. She cut a striking figure, and I couldn't imagine the view from up-close looked quite as sensuous and suggestive as it did from a distance.

The shoot was just ending, though, and as I walked by I noticed the ladies in the crew were having a hard time pushing the carts back up the incline, so I gave them a hand. Chivalry, in case you haven't heard, is not dead.

From there I walked on home to the staticky crooning of cabaret singer Claire Waldoff as she extolled the pleasures of May. Along the way I observed that the dragon-guy was still standing, which I'm going to go ahead and take as an omen that it's going to be a nice next few weeks.

Speaking of luck dragons, is anyone else going to see The Neverending Story tonight at Liberty Hall? If you're 21 or over, you can drink beer. And there's free popcorn.

later, gators.

LW

A knife, a fork, a bottle and a cork

A few final notes about New York, and then I'll temporarily wrap up that subject with a few photos:

-- Even on warm, sunny days, you won't typically find New Yorkers wearing shorts.

-- There's a really good burger place near the Fashion Institute of Technology (my safety school if I didn't get in to KU, incidentally) called "Brgr." I recommend the turkey burger with avocado, gruyere cheese and herb mayonnaise.

-- If you want a fun, philosophical tour of New York City without going to the trouble of going there, I recommend the 1998 documentary, "The Cruise," which follows tour guide Timothy "Speed" Levitch along his Gray Line tour bus route. There's a pretty damn near heartbreaking scene at the end where he demonstrates his habit of spinning around on the plaza between the twin towers and then looking up to get the effect of them falling down on him. The scene is loaded with a meaning that the filmmakers couldn't have intended at the time. You can find it on YouTube, but it's probably best viewed in the original context.


One thing I love about New York is the diversity. People of all different cultures, speaking all kinds of different languages, donating all kinds of blood types.


There are people from many different tribes and cultures


This monk was doing a sand mandala in the lobby of my hotel


New Yorkers are serious about their traffic laws


A pop-art patriot


Remnants of the Jagiellon Dynasty


A girl made of stone

And to close, a pair of Central Park trees...

disc

Threw some serious frisbee this weekend in a scramble-style tourney at Swope. Clint and I got a score of 49 (5 under par). Not sure how we placed yet, but that would have been good enough to win the division ahead of us. In case you're out on the teebox trying to figure out how to throw, and for some reason have delayed the launch of your disc to check www.lucubrations.net on your handheld device, check out this handy graphic David and Mike put together to get an idea how to launch a disc at least 100 feet or more.

And a bonus instructional limerick, from Mr. Holmes:

You must use the legs in the thrust.
Adjust for the powers of gust.
Be careful the tree,
See where goeth 'bee;
Or trust me, you'll go home nonplussed

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