Falling leaves and broken glass

So I found out what happened to my car window. It done got shot.

My neighbor Blue said she woke up at about 3:15 Saturday morning after hearing eight gunshots and looked outside to see police cars driving every which way. I wasn't sure the broken car window was related, but after the auto-glass folks pointed out a thumb-sized bullethole in the steel of the back hatch, it was pretty clear what happened. "This weren't no small bullet, either," they added.

I'm not sure how this makes me feel. On one hand, I feel bad about my car having been shot twice in less than a year. On the other hand, it's as if my minivan has unintentionally earned the street cred I've always lacked as a white suburbanite. Now I can drive around and listen to songs like this one by Ghostface Killah without worrying about being accused of doing so ironically. Nevermind the JoCo plates, my minivan has survived more slugs than 50 cent.

Speaking of Ghostface, while Jon and I listened to the skits on "Fishscale" this weekend, we were wondering what would happen if indie-rock bands tried to include on their albums the kinds of skits that are so prevalent on rap records. What would they be about? Would anyone take them seriously? It's not an easy question, but as always, you're free to discuss the matter in the comments section.

Rather than end on a violent note, I'd like to include a pair of November portraits:


This shot was taken by Megan after I purchased a bunch of glow things for 50 cents a pop at the CVS post-Halloween sale. By the way, have any of you ever been brave enough to break open a glow stick? I've always wanted to, but have been mortally afraid of doing so, to this day. However, I did hear that if you take shots of the glow-juice, your guts will light up, so that could be worth looking into.


I took this portrait of mystery leaf lady while walking through the woods of Weston Bend State Park, which is well worth a visit this time of year.

And while I'm sharing rap songs, I might as well include my favorite track by Outkast, 13th Floor/Growing Old. I thought about quoting the song's seasonally relevant lyrics here, but it's much more fun just to listen to.

Oh, and I didn't mean to suggest by the top photo that it was SuperArgo or Travis who shot out my car window. I just found the picture Jenn took of them at the old shooting gallery behind Blue Collar Press and thought it would fit the post nicely.

Take care.

To Galesburg...and back

I woke up on Saturday to find my back car windshield had been shattered the night before. As you might have noted from my last post, I was planning to drive to Illinois to visit brother James. Rather than let this latest act of mini-vandalism stand in my way, I duct-taped a shower curtain to the back of the car and drove there anyway. It's a little something I learned while working on my cousin's paint crew: how to implement solutions to problem areas.


The van drove fine, but as this photo demonstrates, the light of the sunlight through the semi-opaque makeshift window made it look as if we were high-tailing our way away from some kind of nuclear winter. As the space mask on the back seat indicates, I am fully prepared for such circumstances.

I've lived in Midtown long enough not to take petty vandalism personally, but I had to wonder what the motivation was. The last time my car window was broken it was at least under amusing circumstances. Some art kids, including a girl wearing bright pink hot-pants and a Russian fur hat, shot out the window with a bb-gun. They admitted it, apologized and helped pay for the thing.

This time, it seemed like blind violence -- at least until I remembered the sticker that's graced the lower left corner of the windshield for the past two years.


Now that I think about it, the kid does look like he's been kidnapped, and it only makes sense that some good-hearted drunk was doing his best to free the child from the suffocating clutter of my trunk. Bless his heart. I can hardly blame him.


So I'm getting the car fixed tomorrow, but I'm also considering alternate rides. Like a horse. Based on all the photographs I've seen of Kansas City in its boomtown days, horses were a vital part of having a vibrant downtown area. So if this whole downtown renaissance is really going to take place, we're in serious need of some steeds and people to ride them. And it would be really nice to ride a horse around town -- even kind of romantic. Though it probably wouldn't be so much fun for the horse.

On the way to Galesburg, John and I stopped in Lucas, Iowa to check out a few other alternate sources of transportation.

A motorsickle:


And a spaceship belonging to some non-specific nation states:

Our time in Galesburg was pretty fantastic. We fulfilled our mission of filming that night's performance by Ree-Yees, which blew both my mind and my right eardrum. I won't even try to describe it here, but once Jon's had some time to upload and play with the footage, I'll be sure to share it with you. Suffice it to say that Ree-Yees really kills it.

Little trivia question for you all: why is Ree-Yees (the character) named Ree-Yees? First person to comment with the right answer gets a free taco, in person or by mail.


We spent the rest of our time in Galesburg throwing the frisbee into some hedges, walking around town and eating at local hotspots The Gizmo and The Landmark, renowned for their value and their tastiness, respectively. We also stopped in the One Stop Smokers Shop, a cigarette store where you can buy booze, cigarettes and play deer-hunter. It really lives up to its name.

Later we visited the campus library of Knox College, a beautiful old building that houses some rare books, some really nice aristocratic-looking rooms and an abacus. The last time I was in Galesburg I spent a few hours leafing through books, but this time all we did was watch the Crank That Soulja Barney video, which I'm sure all those kids studying for finals really appreciated.

Knox College, by the way, has a pretty impressive history of public speaking. In addition to hosting one of the Lincoln-Douglas debates, the last three commencement speakers have been, in order, Barack Obama, Stephen Colbert and Bill Clinton.


The only problem with our ramblings through Galesburg was the unwanted attention we received from the local fuzz. After our walk through town on Sunday, a stern-looking officer got out of his car and asked Jon, "Any particular reason while you're walking all over town taking a crapload of pictures?" (he actually said crapload).

He said a female employee of the city had seen us taking pictures near the squad cars and sounded the alarm bell. We explained that photography is just a hobby and that we had no terroristic designs on the town, but it wasn't until he looked through our snapshots that he said what we had was fine. The whole thing reminded me of the mantra of new-wave poet/drummer Sun Moriarty:

"What we do. You and I. See something. Say something."


On the way home, Jon and I capped off the journey with the bangin' buffet at the Toot-Toot Family Diner in Bethany, Missouri.


If you'd like to see the complete set of photos Jon took during the trip, head on over to his flickr. Thanks to James, Eric and Alejandro for showing us a good time, and thank you for reading.


all photos in the post by Jon Allen, except for the one of olde Walnut Street

Road Trip

I'm driving to Galesburg, Illinois tomorrow with Jon to film a performance by Ree-Yees, the noise-rock duo that features my youngest brother, James, and his friend Eric. They're playing at some place called the P House, whatever that is. Eric was just featured in the Galesburg Register-Mail for his habit of setting up his drums in a field by the highway and banging on them with abandon. You can -- and should -- read that story here.


It will be a bit of a drive to west-central Illinois, but it's a nice time of year. If anyone wants to come along, just give me a call. We leave at the crack of dawn.

Photo credits: top photo is by me; photo of Eric by Bill Gaither. It pains me how small it is, but it's the best we got until tomorrow.

New Ghosty Video

New video for Ghosty's "I Can't Be Stopped" by Vamos.

Site-seeing

It's cold in Kansas City, and I'm washing down the temperature change with a nice bottle of economically priced port wine. It tastes a bit like cough syrup, but it goes down slowly and smoothly, so I can't complain.

As mentioned earlier, I'm sitting out from blogging activities for a few days, but that doesn't mean I can't recommend a few sites to visit for those with a few minutes and an eye for the original.

First of all, as far as comic blogs go, you can't do much better than Richard's Poor Almanac, maintained by Washington Post cartoonist Richard Thompson. Richard's daily comic, Cul de Sac, is one of the best reads in the paper today. You can read todays' Cul de Sac here, and find some additional comics and musings on his new blog, www.richardspooralmanac.blogspot.com. I got to join Richard and some of my co-workers for dinner last month, and he was kind enough to leave me what was left of his kung-pao chicken, which I devoured several hours later at 3:30 a.m.

Another worthwhile site featuring an entirely different set of sketches is "Pope-by-Pope," a daily sketch experiment carried out by Web designer/old roommate of mine, Matt Kirkland, in which he actually sketched every one of the past 265 Popes. Since the Popes date back to the time of St. Peter, Matt had to base his sketches on a variety of sources, including stained glass portraits and even mosaics. When we lived together, Matt was always building shelving units made out of giant plastic water jugs and scooters made of scrap metal, so it doesn't surprise me that he's taking on unusual subjects in his art. He also has a schnazzy site at www.mattkirkland.com, and does some freelance Web and industrial design. Matt is currently sketching all the U.S. presidents.


I've linked to a few artists lately, and I thought I'd close out my post today with a link to LittlePaperAirplanes.com, an online store and gallery featuring the prints, shirts, postcards and booklets from a variety of incredibly talented young artists. Little Paper Airplanes is based in Los Angeles and run by Silver Lake artist Kelly Lynn Jones, who I met at this year's comic con. Little Paper Airplanes is lots of fun.

Trees

I got stuck in a tree over the weekend and might not be able to blog for a few days. This happens sometimes.

There is a chance that I will have a guitar airlifted for the remainder of my stay, but I'd rather not risk transporting my laptop. Besides, the battery would not last too long.

Rather than leave my Monday readers high-and-dry, I had my hiking companion/rescue coordinator take down the first few lines of a Hoelderlin poem I felt was well-suited for the occasion. Unfortunately I could only remember the first two verses...

Was dämmert um mich, Erde! Dein freundlich Grün?
Was wehst du wieder, Lüftchen, wie einst mich an?
In allen Wipfeln rauschts,

Was weckt ihr mir die Seele? Was regt ihr mir
Vergangnes auf, ihr Guten! O schonet mein
Und laßt sie ruhn, die Asche meiner
Freunden, ihr spottet nur! O wandelt,

or, auf Englisch, courtesy of Michael Hamburger:

Why, Earth, around me glimmer your friendly leaves?
Why, little wind, as once do you breathe on me?
In all the tree-tops there's a rustling,

Why do you rouse my soul and stir up the past?
In me, you kindly ones? O be kinder still
And let them be, the embers of my
Joys! You were mocking me! Travel on then,

The poem, entitled Palinodie, has another few verses that you can read here. More interesting, I learned when reading about the piece that a "palinode" is a reversal of an earlier poem or statement. For some reason I'd never learned that.

Though I'd never consciously written a palinode of any kind, a likely subject arose in my path while hiking this weekend. I read on a placard that honeysuckle -- the plant whose appearance in midsummer always seemed to me so sweet, innocent and intoxicating -- is actually regarded as an invasive species in North America. It's sweet-smelling and attractive, but can hamper other growth.

See? I still learn things.

And lest you pick up the touch-tone and dial the volunteer fire department, I'll come out and admit that I'm not really stuck in any trees. I just might not post for a few days and thought I'd give a more interesting reason than an upcoming sales meeting.

Take care.

Fall and all

If you're trying to decide which of the million open gallery events to attend in Kansas City tomorrow, the biannual event at the Hobbs Building would be a good bet. Included in these open studios will be the first large-scale showing of Liz Gardner's "Pocket-Sized Pieces" collection. Some of my accompanying mini-poem/haiku-ish verses will be on display to complement Liz's fantastically intricate little pieces. The event goes all weekend, so stop by and see the Hobbs Building studios at some point if you get a chance.


Earlier this month I posted a few photos of murals in Kansas City, Kansas. It turns out these are the work of artist John Bonifacio Moreno, a Kansas City-based artist who has been traveling the globe for 17 years, doing murals and teaching art to urban youth. Mr. Moreno contacted me when he saw that I posted his mural pics, and I spent some time checking out his site, www.unmejormanana.com. There's some photo galleries up of his recent work, and a link to the trailer for his upcoming documentary film, "Un Mejor Mañana." Moreno says of his work:

"I want to create unique films and set up shots that share with the world how I see things. I want to awaken people who are asleep and bring them into another world, a world full of beauty and peace. I am especially interested in cultural issues and the struggle of the human soul. Through my documentaries & films I hope to help others better understand topics dealing with the psychic realm, faith, unexplainable events, the soul, spirituality, and life after death. I believe we create our own reality, whether it's good or bad."

Best of luck to John in his endeavors and a happy Día de los Muertos to all of you blog readers out there -- living or dead.

Finally, I'd just like to say Hello...

...to November

All Hallow's Eve

A few photos of and links to Halloween fun, for those of you who found yesterday's marshmallow-headed epic verse a bit too much to swallow. Happy All Soul's Eve, kids.

The result of my first-ever trip to buy plants


Arachnophilia: Lucky the seven-legged spider lives in Seattle.
Photo by Tara.


This scare bear lives in Gillham Park


My makeshift costume on Friday. Used brother's old spacesuit. When people saw how faded the flag was, they thought I was making a political statement. I told them I'd just been lost for a long time and my patriotism had lost a bit of its luster as well. I kind of look like a past-his-prime British rocker. Photo by Liz.


Being green: Andrew makes it look easy


America, friend of the people. Taken in Hamburg cafe/curiosity shop near Brigittenstrasse.


Those old pumpkin fields back home

For some humorous content regarding Halloween, I've got a couple of suggestions. There was that really funny article about werewolves in the Onion, for one. Also, Jeremiah Tucker of the Joplin Globe takes a look today at the holiday he's come to call All Hallow's sleEveless and pants-less. You can read that here.

For those of you more inclined to celebrate the month of October than the Halloween holiday, hearken back to the October of 1900 with Helen Hunt Jackson's "October's Bright Blue Weather," a favorite poem of my grandfather's back in his day.

Also, I was going to put together a mix of Halloween-themed tracks, but it looks like I've been beat to the punch by this guy from Russia. Instead I'd like to share this spooky-sounding freak-out by Kontakt Mikrofoon Orkest, plucked from the latest Cherrystones comp, Cherrystones Word.

And what would a Halloween post be without an embedded video from Echo and the Bunnymen?

Enjoy!

Lost in Halloweenland

I'm pretty sure there's a werewolf on the top floor of my apartment.

When I stepped into the building last Sunday I heard an unnatural baying coming from upstairs. It could just be that the new neighbors have an especially large and terrifying sounding dog, but with a full moon last Friday and Halloween at the end of the month, I decided to play it safe and buy a case of silver bullets on eBay. I got them in the mail today and have since fashioned a casing for them which I wear like a sash underneath my sport coat. It's a reassuring feeling, if a bit cumbersome.

Aside from this incident, I'm not sure I'm really feeling Halloween this year. Things seem scary enough as it is. Just last weekend there were three shootings within a mile of my place. And there's a lot of other things to worry about as well: Strange people roaming the streets at night, yelling obscenities at unseen (imaginary?) companions. People driving their cars like idiots. Past-due bill notices. Werewolves in my apartment.

Maybe that's why most adults don't get into Halloween as much as their kids. They've come to realize that real life is much scarier than any Halloween-themed folk tale.

On the other hand, Halloween imagery can be a powerful throwback to childhood, which is exactly what today's post is all about. In September 2001, while living in a former Nervenklinik converted into student apartments in Bad Godesberg, Germany, I experienced what was probably the most intense fever of my life. I handled it the way I handle most crises -- by writing my way through it. The result was a curiously childish foray into my childhood associations with the holiday. I whittled the largely incoherent writing into a ballad called "The Cabin of Eternal Halloween," which you can read here.

Apologies to those of you who have seen this before, but even you might find something new in the director's commentary following the poem. Thanks for reading, and Happy Devil's Night.

Happy 181st Birthday, Hugh!

Editor's Note: This birthday tribute is pretty much an exact replica of last year's shout out to the Kansas Hermit, but if you read through to the end you'll find a few photos recently made available by the Kansas State Historical Society.

Today Lt. Colonel Hugh Cameron would have been 181 years old. Who was Hugh Cameron? Basically he was a decorated Civil War veteran and free-stater who for one reason or another decided to live in an old wooden piano box along the bluffs of the Kansas river in his later years, earning him the nickname, "The Kansas Hermit." In the early days of Lawrence he had jobs including Brigadier General, Justice of the Peace and ferryboat operator. But he is much more than that. He is an inspiration.

I first happened upon the plaque at 5th and Louisiana streets the morning of July 5, 2001. I was still awake after an all-night Independence Day celebration, and finding this plaque at that moment was a nice bit of serendipity. I hadn't even finished reading the synopsis of Hugh's life before I decided he was as much of a literary fairy-godfather as I was ever likely to need, at least for that summer.

I went back there that night with my friend Jacob, who did a bit of research on Hugh's life and wrote a piece about him for the 2001 Disorientation Guide. Among the things Jacob uncovered were the reasons Hugh gave for leaving the town in favor of the wilderness:

"I wanted to be alone; I wanted to become a seer so I buried myself here in the woods. Some day the vision will come."

Aside from the account Jacob compiled and the plaque itself, I hadn't found out much about Hugh until I read this wondeful historical essay about him and a couple of other Lawrence eccentrics. If you have any interest in Hugh's life, or just want to hear an interesting story, I recommend it.

Also, Jacob recently pointed me to www.kansasmemory.org, the digital repository launched this month by the Kansas State Historical Society which has 3 photos of Hugh that neither of us had seen before. Also featured on the new site is a picture of something that, while admirable, is probably neither safe nor convenient to anyone involved.


Thanks to Jacob for his research, and a big Happy Birthday to Hugh. 181 years young.

Crazy Carny-age on the OK Highway

Due to the ease with which one can comment on a blog or e-mail the author, this site does not generate a large amount of snail mail. Once in a while, though, we will receive handwritten letters, usually written by war veterans or elderly women in the community. One particular letter that I received last week made me reconsider the kind of content that I make available on this site. If I may, I'd like to share this quick excerpt:

"Why must you always dwell on the positive?" the letter read. "Every week I check this site only to be inundated with light-hearted stories about some great new band or artsy digital photographs taken by some supposably hip twenty something. Why not tell both sides of the story for a change? I want a dash of disaster and disappointment to go along with all the happy stuff. This is America, in case you've forgotten."

This woman's words cut me to the quick. Have I consciouly been trying to shield my audience from the darker aspects of life by creating a blog where no pain or sorrow exist?

I've learned in my many years of blogging to shrug off criticism, but perhaps she had a point. I decided to adhere to the ancient blogging adage and give the people what they want.

I didn't find it hard to come up with a few unpleasant topics to write about, but I also didn't want to regale readers with all the standard blogospheric laments ("moving sucks," "quitting smoking is hard," "i haven't had my coffee this morning," "my first-born child was born with bat wings", et cetera). I needed something else. Something exciting. Something exclusive.

To get the story I was looking for I had to tap my brother, crack reporter/photographer Deez Wetzel. In the spring of 2006, while driving back from an all-night recording session at Bell Labs in Norman, Oklahoma, Young Deezy and his bandmates came across a roadside scene they would not soon forget.

In just 30 seconds and a few quick snaps of the shutter, David captured the surreal images and haunting impressions you will read below. Lucubrations.net would like to thank Young Deez for sharing this troubling experience, told in his own words.


April 24, 2006: While driving home on I-35 just south of Guthrie, OK, traffic slowed to a crawl. In the distance emergency lights flashed and a fire reaching great heights was plainly visible. What exactly was burning was not clear. As emergency vehicles sped past us on the shoulder, we waited for nearly an hour in standstill traffic watching white smoke billow on the horizon. When we finally started moving, we edged forward past the accident and realized that this was no ordinary car fire.


The Hampton umbrella ride appeared to be OK.


More confusion ahead.


The first visible casualty: an orange monkey. We were told that CPR failed, and that he had flown 400 feet to his final resting place.


More animals laying dead or motionless. Among them, an extremely rare rainbow monkey and several of his friends. It was becoming obvious that this must have been some sort of caravaning circus/carnival. What else could explain the three-legged man on the right? We were still clueless about what might have caused the fire, but decided not to rule out cigarettes.


Smiling dragons, obviously grateful that they weren't riding in back of the yellow truck.


You've heard of the ship of state. Well, this is the semi. These colors may not run, but they do char worse than a burnt bratwurst. At this point, we realized that this was no accident. It could only be international terrorism, striking a devastating blow in the heartland by laying waste to an innocent carnie convoy. As the true embodiment of American freedom at its most free, carnies are the ultimate enemy of terrorists.


These giant green suspiciously unharmed aliens are definitely suspect. Perhaps they are -- or are harboring -- terrorists. Best to arrest them all and ask questions later.

Even well over a year after the incident took place, DWetz still recalls the incident with a shudder.

"After waiting for so long in traffic, drifting in and out of sleep, the whole experience took on mythic proportions for us," Wetzel said. "I'm not gonna say Oliver Stone type proportions, but it was pretty strange to imagine how not only the leading truck but several other following vehicles got so messed up. I only wish I would've had more time to photographically assess the damage."

Even stranger to Deez was the complete absence of the catastrophe from local news reports. He scoured local papers and Web sites for days afterwards but found no mention of what he'd seen.

On one hand, I can understand why the media would choose not to cover such a story. A highway littered with crashed semis, dead rainbow monkeys and terrorist-smuggling aliens is pretty heavy shit. On the other hand, the urgency with which police ushered by passing cars suggests that perhaps the story was intentionally suppressed. No one can say for certain, at least not without assuming a certain amount of risk.

There may indeed be stories out there too macabre for the mainstream media and too sensitive for Uncle Sam, but rest assured that you will still find these stories at www.lucubrations.net, your chief source for doom and gloom in the AMerican Midwest.

Two Can Win

Tonight is a big night for The Fairer Sex. After months of recording and mixing at both Sweat Lodge and Black Lodge studios, the Lawrence group will be playing a CD release show at the Eighth Street Taproom. Their new album, "Two Can Win," is out now on the Ionik Recordings Label and features some great tunes, mostly written by frontman Zack Hart, and a few written by brother Deez. You can hear a couple FS tracks on the Ionik Records Web site and a couple more at lawrence.com. I'd also like to take the liberty of leaking my personal favorite track by Zack, "Tattoo." If you listen closely to the last 30 seconds or so, you can hear Andrew Connor make an appearance on guitar and me strum a bit of background banjo.

My other songwriting sibling, Laura Wetzel, is doing well with her debut album, which is available on iTunes. If you'd like to get some great songs and help pay for a kid's college in the process, check it out. To hear a few tunes and read a bit more about her album, you can read this from a few weeks ago.

My other new favorite songwriter is Suzannah Johannes, who debuted by winning last year's KJHK-sponsored Farmer's Ball. One night last month I was driving up to Lawrence to see her show, and as usual I was listening to a compilation of various garage and folk recordings from the sixties. I started to feel a bit guilty that so much of what I listen to is from decades past, and that I haven't been able to get as excited about the music that's going on around me.

Suzannah's show -- an opening slot for Holly Golightly at the Jackpot Saloon -- made me forget that concern completely. She started out playing a few solo songs and was eventually joined by Ghosty's David and Josh on keyboards and drums. The crowd was almost as shy as she was at first, but as the set went on she seemed to gain confidence. I was deeply impressed by her songs, and I think everyone around me was, too. You can hear a few of them here, and more excitingly, you can see her play in Lawrence this Friday, also at the Taproom.

On a completely different note, I'd like to offer a sneak preview of the chaos and cacophony that the Galesburg, Illinois art/noise duo ReeYees plans to bring to the Midwest. They don't have any proper recordings at the moment (thanks to some equipment-plundering hobo who broke into their house) but a few tracks and one short video offer flashes of what could very well turn out to be the most enjoyably obnoxious and delightfully dissonant duo outside of Fort Thunder (RIP). Here's the video, but I warn you -- and I mean it -- this is not for sensitive eardrums.

Birdos last call


This next video I'd like to link to could not be more different than the last. It features the brilliant and refined Elliot P. playing a Bach prelude on classical guitar. I think it was recorded at his senior recital at KU, but it also might be footage from last year's Bacharusa. Either way, it's great and he's got a few enchanting electric tunes you can listen to here.

Bach: Cello Suite No 3 Prelude


Thanks for tuning in, and more from me at the end of the week.

(Almost) Famous

Thanks to Tim Engle, whose KC Star write-up brought these lucubrations into the local limelight. If you didn't see the piece, you can probably still do so here.

I was greeted with a number of kind phone calls and messages from friends, but I have to admit I was disappointed that there wasn't a better turn-out at the airport when my flight arrived from Seattle. I had expected to be hoisted up on the shoulders of the masses and carried all the way to economy parking, but the only people I saw when I came out of the gate were a pair of shady limo drivers and a security guard. Oh well.

There were a few humorous circumstances surrounding the article, however. For one, the headline beneath the story on me was titled, "Older people on Facebook are creepy." My brother actually handed the paper to me folded so that it looked like the headline was meant to accompany the photo of me grinning non-threateningly. I would normally laugh this off as coincidence, except that I just joined Facebook last week, and even my younger sisters have told me they're not sure they'll accept me as a friend. How do you like that. My own flesh and blood.

The cover of the FYI section on Saturday also featured a nice story about Miles Bonny, an old friend of mine from KU and my favorite local DJ and music producer. If you didn't see the article on Miles, than try out these lines from his wikipedia entry instead:

...(Miles) co-founded Hip Hop group SoundsGood in 2000 with Kansas City based rapper Joe Good. In the early years of SoundsGood the group was well known in the "house party" scene, where they were known to "kill it", "throw down" and "lace crowds off."

Speaking of lace, it also appears the name "Renaissance Man" might have some unfortunate staying power. One friend chided me about this, saying "no wonder you wanted to go to the Renaissance Fest, Renaissance Man." The name does suit me in one respect, though. I have been drinking a lot of the "Renaissance Blend" tea purchased at Tea Drops in West Port. It's fantastic. Really, you should try it.

Reading the story, I had to wonder what someone who didn't know me might think, and ask myself if that guy in the story was really me. I like to think that I've got greater social concern and spiritual depth than finding good tamales and writing Japanese-inspired poems about jelly beans, but I also can't deny that these are matters of some importance to me. It just so happens that these petty but impassioned laments fit rather conveniently into the blogging format.
Eventually I'll pack it in, get a proper Web site portfolio and divert my energies entirely to to other efforts, but for now it looks as if there is still some fun to be had with this site. I owe that to you guys, especially the folks who chimed in with some Wakarusa Festival alternatives last week. Those were great.

The photo, by the way, is plucked from Jenn's new Seattle set. I'll follow up later this week with some impressions of the Emerald City. Also look for upcoming posts about topics such as The Fairer Sex, The Kansas Hermit, witches, missile silos and 36 weeks in Hamburg. And maybe I'll go ahead and post a list of favorite tamale locations since I kind of dodged that question in the Star.

God bless, my itsy-bitsy but appreciated readership.

Seattle Bound

In a few short hours I'll be on a plane to Seattle, where I plan to indulge in a seafood and Starbucks binge atop the Space Needle. At least unless our hosts Big Baby T (who took this picture) and Andy (who is in this picture) come up with something more interesting and/or underground to check out. I'm excited.

I'll be back to posting next week, but feel free to look through the abundance of archived material. I also added a link to a dozen great comics on the sidebar (in the "Funny Pages" section), so check those out if you like.

Thanks for stopping by.

?-ARUSA

Cold weather is on its way, and that psychedelicious summer blowout, Wakarusa Festival (Four-days of music and camping with 70+ bands on multiple stages at Clinton Lake in Lawrence, Kansas) seems farther away than ever.

The streams of hippies, jam-banders and ravers that filter through Lawrence each summer (and litter downtown streets for weeks afterwards) are no doubt at a loss for what to do with themselves during these cold, dark days. For those who can not afford the fare to Ibiza, Goa or Essaouira, I've been working on imagining alternative affairs to fill in the time/void between Wakarusa Festivals. The only catch is, they all have to more or less rhyme with Wakarusa.

I had a lot of fun with this, but I'm only including my favorite 15 for now. A special reader-generated list will be posted here next month, so your own ideas for Wakarusalternatives are welcome. In the spirit of festivals, the more the merrier.

Here's a look at my current favorite like-named alternatives to Wakarusa Fest:

Tacorusa
A giant taco-feed, open to people of all ages, creeds and cultures

Guacarusa
Originally a part of Tacorusa, Guacarusa was able to become its own event thanks to generous funding from La Raza

Spockarusa
A bunch of people dressed like Spock and/or naturally resembling Leonard "Party Long and Prosper" Nimoy

Glockarusa
The most dangerous of all 'rusas

Jockarusa
An attempt by the KU Athletic Department to draw attention to sports instead of hippie culture, promoted with the slogan, "Don't get high, get in shape!"

Iraqarusa
A portable version of Wakarusa Fest, taking place at various military bases throughout the occupied regions. Like the real thing, only thousands of miles away and without all the long hair and frivolity

Polackarusa
A celebration of Polish culture designed to combat negative stereotypes brought about by decades of Polack jokes. Features traditional folk music, dances and a Kielbasa cookoff.

Wild Bill Hickockarusa
A celebration of the fastest draw in the Wild West, perhaps taking place in one of those all-but-abandoned cavalry outposts between Topeka and Kanorado

Cockblockarusa
A sorority party in which nerds arrive first and flirt with surprising success, only to be interrupted and outmaneuvered at the last moment by more socially adept jock-types

Tony La Russa
A marathon screening of all the World Series the famed MLB manager has been a part of

Hemlockarusa
A celebration of the life of Socrates, with a reading of his works followed by a ritualistic (mock) suicide

Chicken Pockarusa
An assembly of blemished primary-schoolers

Talkarusa
A festival dedicated to putting aside the time to talk out your differences. A big letdown for men whose girlfriends mislead them into thinking they'll be attending the more-popular "Tacorusa"

Liplockarusa
A giant kiss-off

Crockarusa
A swap-meet dedicated exclusively to crock pots

Now it's your turn. Good luck!

Days of the Dead in KCK

If you're looking for great tacos and building murals, look no further than Kansas Avenue in KCK. But beware of trash-eating ghost riders.

More photos by Jenn here.