Charlie (Age 6) Makes a Brief Return Roger Clemens Style

(over breakfast)

HIM: I think we won't have flying cars until my kids are grown up.
ME: It's going to take a while, huh? I guess they're tricky.
HIM: Yeah. But in the future that's soon...you know the future that's coming up soon?
ME: Um...yeah?
HIM: The future we're about to have? We will have robots that are the size of this room.
ME: What do we need those for?
HIM: You know like helping people.
ME: Okay. Like reaching things that are high up?
HIM: Yeah. And we'll have pizza parlors in our own homes.
ME: Well, that doesn't sound too hard.
HIM: What do you mean?
ME: Well, just get a pizza oven. Some ingredients. Maybe a couple of tables.
HIM: I don't think we can have it yet. But soon.
ME: In the future of room sized helping robots?
HIM: Yeah.
ME: And eventually flying cars.
HIM: But not for a while.

Tradition Continues But Elsewhere

Charlie's conversations may have concluded but look for a promising career by up and coming conversationalist Finn, as described by his mom.

That mom, Tina, has also doomed my spare time to Facebook thanks to her comment posted on this post of mine and this profile of the founder in Fast Company.

Facebook is like MySpace except designed and operated by people who appear to have actually ever seen a computer. In social networking sites, Facebook is like a big mysterious condo building where you may be either working or living. MySpace is like the bad part of town and it's getting dark and your phone doesn't work. Or it's like the city shots in the movie Pootie Tang. Makes you feel like a baddy daddy lamatai tabby chai.

Half a year on

It just struck me as I was sitting here at the office that it was six months ago yesterday that I lost my brother to suicide. A bit of a milepost, that. I guess. I was thinking about him anyway, not realizing that it was half a year ago. So spring turned to summer and shorts and lemonade and today I wear a heavy coat and it's been six months.

Time blots a lot of things out. You want to remember a song, a phrase, a phone number, you want to keep it written in bold Sharpie in your brain. But you have to go to work. And then you read the paper. And then some other thing happens and it's gone. Things have to move on, the sun has to come up in the morning, you have to make breakfast for the kids. Routines get settled into. That's how it is with me, still, even as I carry this heavy load. The muscles get stronger to carry it but the damn thing is still pretty heavy.

When I announced Rick's death in this space, I did so not as a eulogy but as a plea. If you're suffering, get help. If you know someone who is suffering with depression or mental illness, help them. Reach out. Say something. Cast sunlight on an issue that's often tucked away in darkness. Say it out loud instead of thinking you should say something. That's what I want to reiterate today. If you read that original post, you may have put the seeking of help for yourself or someone else on your to-do list. If it slid off that list, please put it back on. It's important.

Get help.
Get help.
Get help.

A Conversation with Charlie (Age 6) About Madonna and an Announcement Concerning Charlie (Age 6)

We're in the car on the way to school, listening as always to Movin' 92.5. La Isla Bonita comes on and with it the lyric "Last night I dreamt of San Pedro"

ME: What do you think that means, that last night she dreamt of some bagels?
HIM: No, she's saying that last night she dreamt of some mangoes.
ME: Ah.
HIM: Are you sure this is Movin' 92.5?
ME: Yeah.
HIM: Hm. Sounds like garbage.









And with that, I announce the retirement of the Conversation with Charlie (Age x) series on this blog. He's nearly seven years old now and reading on his own so I feel kind of weird about quoting him here. He's become not so much a precocious little boy as just this guy I know. He's still eccentric, of course, and in a really good way, but at the rate he's going he'll have a blog of his own soon anyhow. You won't want to read it, though. It will be just full of Garfield.

For posterity's sake, here, I think, is the first of these posts I ever put up:

Conversation At The Toy Store Between Myself And My Son Charlie (Almost Three)

CHARLIE: Dad, I want to tell you something. I had this farm toy when I was a baby. Mom bought it for me. Mom bought it when I was six babies.
ME: What? You were six babies?
CHARLIE: Yes. No. I was eight babies. I was eight babies, Dad.
ME: Really? I don't remember that.
CHARLIE: Dad, do I have pipes inside me?
ME: Uh...what?
CHARLIE: Pipes! Pipes! Do I have them in me?
ME: Well, sort of. I guess.
CHARLIE: Do I have batteries in me?
ME: No. You don't have any batteries in you.
CHARLIE: We need to get some batteries for me.

Seeking Obsessive Remodelers

I'm working on a story for Weekend America & Marketplace about people who are in a constant state of remodel, especially when it comes to the kitchen. The story explores the growth of Home Depot and professional level appliances in regular homes. Ideally, I'd like to find some local people/families who, either by their own hand or through contractors, are always remodeling, updating, and improving their homes. Because I don't think that we as a society were always like this. Drop me a line - johnmoe (at sign) gmail.com - if you know anyone who fits the profile. Seattle area preferable.

I Wasn't Looking For Trouble, But Trouble Found Me

So okay, so the Focus is in the shop getting a new clutch. So I have to walk to work. Which means getting coffee at our old friend Indy Hipster Coffee Shop Near Where I Work. If you've been reading this blog, you know this rarely goes well. Still, I kept my mouth shut, kept my head down, ordered, grabbed an extra cup because they don't give out sleeves and the cup they gave me was scalding, and I was just about done. To their credit, they were playing Wilco's "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart", the song not the movie, on the stereo. This was one small point in their favor. No sooner was I aware of this, however, than the manager turned it off and replaced it with Jerry Garcia solo material.

I try to find love in my heart but they just keep bringing the hate. True, the Wilco song was all about addiction and alienating your family and friends, but you know what's worse than Jerry Garcia solo material? Nothing.

Things I Want to Give Up But Can't

1. Laptop use after 9pm.
2. Getting mad when people write about something that "peaked my interest" or, worse, "peeked my interest".
3. Listening to "Tired Eyes" by Neil Young relentlessly.

WHAT ABOUT YOU? ADD TO THE LIST, FRIENDS!

Congress

I have never before spoken directly to my congressman, Jim McDermott. Today I did. As part of my job. And the entirety of our conversation was about the Van Halen reunion tour.

Stories You Will Not Be Hearing On Weekend America

via BoingBoing

The Way Others See It #5

Says geminivt:

Dilbert is just great.

Also, "Fall's around the corner".

I honestly can't believe how widely that dang cup is being quoted.

I am become Wiki

Turns out I currently have a Wikipedia entry. I wonder if it will last. If it does, perhaps it paves the way to the ultimate success: fan fiction.

Thoughts Had While Reading Garfield With Charlie (Age 6)

1. This is my duty as a father, to encourage my son's interests even when there is nothing remotely funny or entertaining about Garfield.
2. Why does Garfield hate Mondays? He doesn't even have a job.
3. Jon can't hear Garfield's thoughts can he?
4. You know what's worse than Garfield? Nothing. Nothing is worse than Garfield.
5. How about his fixation at age 2 with "Barney Goes to the Pet Shop"? Cause that was pretty bad.
6. No, this is worse.
7. This is much worse.
8. Is the house that Jon and Garfield live in completely full of counters? Cause almost every strip they're in involves sitting at a counter of some sort. Are there counters on every single wall?
9. Why would any homeowner put up with even a single large mouse hole? What kind of squalor are you living in to allow a huge arched hole in your floorboard that extends up past the molding and into the wall?
10. Whither Lyman?

11. Charlie (Age 6) is reading on his own now. Why does he need me to...I shouldn't be...I mean what is the FREAKIN' POINT!...love my son love my son love my son.
12. Garfield's 29 years old now. Shouldn't there have been some sort of euthanasia procedure administered in the late 1990's?
13. Tonight, while the family sleeps, a run to the library and an appointment with the drop box.

14. I wonder how he'd like The Far Side?

Did You Know...

That in some places, the act of eating in a restaurant has gone completely bananabonkers? Like in Chicago, the place that gave us great hot dogs with pickled objects served in a paper sack full of fries. Also pizza.

In Chicago, there's a place called Moto and here's an account of eating there.

The menu includes:

Lobster with freshly squeezed orange soda
French onion soup with a hot frozen crouton and a nitrogen droplet.

And also this happens:

New Polling Thingie

Over there underneath Duck. It's not that I support Chris Dodd, I just support the idea of Chris Dodd still supporting Chris Dodd. Don't stop believin'. Hold on to that fee-yeeya-lee-yin'.

The Way Others See It #4

Jay doesn't have a life. He has a LIFE. His blog is called Jays LIFE. Like others, he's quoted my Starbucks cup and shared how I see it. Here's how he sees it:

On other good news; i got my camera back! it was in shop for a little while, yesterday i was able to pick it up
Man all this stress has me all worked up! my neck really hurts lately and i know what it is. Other news The gym ... i really like going and a lot of times it helps me just get tired and go home sleep. I feel like i am making progress but i wish there was a faster way it seems its really easy to gain weight and so hard to loose it. Well it is time to go now its 5:09 and i should stop ranting

Not a Bad Likeness



Article is here.

I Am Very Old

Here's how I know that:

1. Finally cut the damn hair. The last straw wasn't even when the hair evolved from late-era Ron Wood to Hobo Sea Captain. It was when my lovingish wife used the phrase "mid-life crisis". Thanks. Honey.

2. Our local Fox affiliate has replaced 11pm reruns of The Simpsons with reruns of Family Guy, a show I find intermittently funny and sometimes very funny but so cruel and filled with dwarf jokes that I just can't relax into it. I imagine this is what it felt like to people older than me when The Simpson started running in place of M*A*S*H or something.

3. Conversation at Indy Hipster Coffee Shop Near Where I Work:
ME: How much is that Asiago bagel?
MANAGER: The gourmet ones are $2.15
ME: That one is 95 cents up the street at (local bagel shop) where you get them from.
MANAGER: Really? I'll have to go check that out. But I bet our cream cheese is cheaper. We're the best, that's why there's always a crowd here. That's why everyone wants to be like us.
ME: (silently surveying the crowd, which consists of me and a dude in leather pants, thinking about how I didn't go to Starbucks this morning cause the line was seven people deep) And you're humble too.
MANAGER: No, we're not humble, just the best. We're like the New York Yankees!
ME: That might not be the best way to market your shop in Seattle.
MANAGER: Well, it's true!
ME: (imagining a day when the store burns to the ground and no one is hurt and somehow no one loses their livelihood and in fact they're happier than ever and I walk by and dance a small jig upon the smoldering ashes)

4. In tomorrow's Seattle Times: something I propose to do about my descent into elderliness.

The Way Others See It #3

She's a Scorpio and she doesn't live in St. Paul, she lives in SAINT PAUL. She is Holly.

I was talking to Chris on the way to work and when I told him I was in search of Starbuck's, his response was "so that's what you spend all your money on." Supportive huh.

My cup is #280, it's a Grande, and available in Starbuckses now. Though none that I've been to.

Suggested Terrible Pizza Toppings by Charlie (Age 6)

Dead mice
Bear blood
Antler
Pizza dough ("Wait, doesn't all pizza have dough?" "No, I mean raw blobs of dough on the pizza.")
A chair
Live mice

Attention Fellow Office Renters At The Big Complex Where I Rent An Office

Sometimes your dogs come bounding up to me in the hallways. Or the elevators. They are never, ever, ever on leashes. But apparently that's okay because, as you inform me, "they're really friendly."

But you know what? They're pit bulls. And I don't know they're friendly. And from what I know of pit bulls, I think I have cause for wariness.

Here's another fun fact: put your freakin' dog on a freakin' leash. Also, keep 'em out of the ding dang coffee shops.

The Way Others See It #2

Someone who is always at church, in some capacity, gave my cup some love. In the words of Mr. 247Think:

My father-in-law, Ronnie, pokes fun at me all the time saying that I'm drinking "fluff", which I promptly shoot back at his "motor oil" Folgers coffee. Some, like Ronnie, say there's no difference. But I strongly disagree!

How true that is.

The Way Others See It #1

So my Starbucks cup is in circulation (#280, a grande) and I've seen it showing up on blogs of people I don't know. Kinda cool. So I thought I'd return the favor of people who've been quoting me. This from Rem4233's Weblog:

"All of us went on Tour of San Francisco — we went in a cable car (bus) — I missed my noon pills/food… I was shivering, etc., on the tour."

There are downsides to having a media job...

But upsides too: today there was a voice mail on my phone from Mario Cuomo. He was responding to an email I sent him. Mario Cuomo. Time traveling high school political geek John Moe From The Past just about went insane.

Awesome?

Au Contraire, Says Jill, To The Post Below.

More like Heat Miser



But she supports the whole hair growing thing.

If You Shut Me Down, If You Shut Me Down, I'll Never Start

I've been trying to grow out my hair a bit, a sort of early and more affordable mid-life crisis. But it's not going well. Jill looks at me with scorn, the hair can't be tamed, I wear a hat all the time. Today, however, was the worst. I looked in the mirror and thought: "I look like Ron Wood." That's just...that's never good.

=

=

Want A Little Xenophobia in Your Zeppelin Covers?

Sure you do! You do, right? Supporters of presidential "candidate" John Cox are here to provide it with a rewritten Immigrant Song that's more of a "We Hate Immigrants Song". Sounds like it was recorded at a College Republicans karaoke night.

John Bonham will rise from the dead to feast upon their brains.

UPDATE: Okay, what are the odds this song comes up twice in two days? Here's Ann Wilson from Heart, of all people, doing a non-xenophobic straight version that is nonetheless unnerving.

Harry Potter and the Big Funnel sales haven't quite measured up

Kottke points to this NYT rundown of Chinese Harry Potter knock-off plot summaries.

After six years at Hogwarts, Harry Potter becomes an intern sorcerer and is assigned to teach at the Honiton School. Harry has a painful time in his aunt’s house, as Dudley has met a belly-dancing girl. As Harry prepares to report to his job, Bat Bug warns him disaster awaits.

At the school, his students become wooden stools one after another. Harry doesn’t know whether an evil student is behind this, or if his old benefactor Hagrid is making a mistake, or if the shadow of Voldemort has returned. Did it have something to do with the big funnel?

Joy + Sorrow of Parenting

For some reason, it took until my son was 6 3/4 years old to introduce him to Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana. That's just inexcusable. I'm sorry.

My hair is now long enough to thrash about and that came in handy when I played the song loudly in the living room. Charlie took to moshing instinctively and we had the most wonderful one song dance party ever.

After it was over, he said, "Who is the leader of that band?! I want to meet him and get his autograph!"

***

A Riddle From Kate (Age 4)

What do you get when you have three Powerpuff Boys and three Powerpuff Girls?

(I give up, Kate, what do you get?)
...
(a full fifteen seconds pass)

CRIMES!

So I Read the New Harry Potter Book

You know what it's about? Camping. Hundreds and hundreds of pages of camping. And the fight against evil and maturation and Nazi Germany and all that but really, mostly? Camping.

A Conversation With Charlie (Age 6) About Biological Science

HIM: Dad, what's bigger: a cell or an amoeba?
ME: Well, an amoeba is pretty much made of a cell.
HIM: So an amoeba is a cell with...decorations?
ME: ...
HIM: What?! What's so funny?!

Today at the Pensieve

For the last few weeks, I've been working out of KUOW since I'm hosting Weekend America (along with Bill Radke, this one goes out to the ladies AND the Rewind fans) and I need the studio accessibility. I work in the same room where I worked for five years. But I'm not working on the same stuff as anyone else here, I don't go to their meetings, I am with them but not of them. It's like something out of best selling children's literature.

But today was especially odd on The Beat. My good pal Jeannie Yandel interviewed my good pal Glenn Fleishman about technology hoo-ha. Glenn was a regular guest on my old KUOW show, The Works. Then Dave Beck interviewed one of my fave rave singers, Rocky Votolato. I swear this station used to be called Bedford Falls.

Seventiesize Me, or, I Am Destroying Everything With My Influence

So I wrote a book a while back where I tried to become a conservative by ingesting only conservative media and ideas and foods. This person named Katy Shaw altered what I did a little, replacing "conservative" with "seventies". She has a blog. As you endure Smokey and the Bandit, Katy Shaw, accept my apologies for any potential influence I wrought.

The Chicken Butt Is Out Of The Bag

Ever since Charlie (Age 6) could talk, he's been known to use the phrase "guess what?", sometimes in prelude to revealed information and occasionally as an introduction to just yelling something that he heard in a cartoon ("Turtle power!")

But Jill and I have always been tempted, ever so very tempted, to reply to his "guess what?" with "chicken butt!" the classic humorous rejoinder from our own childhoods. But we knew that once he heard that, nothing would ever be the same. It's a way of tricking people, it's got a funny animal in it, and it has the word "butt". It would be exquisite comedy perfection to Charlie and would dominate all discourse in our home. Nothing would ever be the same. It was electricity. It was the automobile. It was the telephone. It was chicken butt.

Well, a parent can only control their child's experience for so long. He went to this day camp last week and was exposed to "Guess what? What? Chicken butt!" by one of the other kids. And it is ON. And we were actually wrong to dread it. Fortunately, it lets Jill and Kate and I finally cut loose too. We can't get enough of it. And of course it has spurred other spin-offs. Among the latest rejoinders to the "guess what?" inquiry are:

Turkey Butt
Rhino Butt
Pikachu Butt
Human Butt
Bamboo Butt (that one was Kate's, leading to Charlie yelling "bamboo doesn't have a butt, Kate!")
Dog Butt
Ladybug Butt
Voldemort Butt

Seattle Times! Again!

I wrote this article that was on the front page of the Northwest Life section today. It's my new ideas for Seafair, Seattle interminable and nebulous summer fiesta. My favorite part: the awesometacular illustrations.

Acting Career Resumed!

Well, kind of. The Weekly asked me to read some actual incident reports from bus drivers. They're posted here. I'm joined by luminaries like Jonathan Raban and Tess Gallagher, both of whom sound like they're trapped at the bottom of a well. A well that's made of steel. Someone should go rescue them.

I Am Become Media

Yesterday marked my debut in The Seattle Times with an article about my search for the soul of Federal Way. It's a lot of the same smart-alecky jokes I've been making since I lived there but with hopefully some coherent writing. I especially love the stock photo they found of the "Federal Shopping Way" sign being taken apart. I have kind of a giddy thrill about being in The Seattle Times since it was the paper we used to get when I was a kid and so it really feels like I've accomplished something. I'm going to be writing for them some more.

Torch-wielding Federal Waynians should be arriving at my door by the end of the day.

Also, I hosted this past weekend's Weekend America and did a fun story about how Hillary Clinton can be more likeable and then I use that advice on my own life by trying to get KUOW folks to like me. To no avail.

Dear Indy Hipster Coffee Shop Near Where I Work,

I think our relationship is broken. It just isn't a two-way street like it's supposed to be. It's not about OUR needs. It's become only about you. Well, you and my money, that is.

Look, I know you have a lot on your mind lately, what with the play you're directing at the tiny theater, the band you may or may not be in, and your busy scowling schedule, but maybe when I come by you could sometimes look at me with a hint of welcome. Like I'm not a burden. Maybe you could treat me like the one who brings the money, and really the activity, into this relationship. Because that's what I am.

In fact, there are some things you do that just seem hostile. Like $2.25 for a bagel. A bagel. A. Bagel. And this whole drip coffee coming up on two bucks thing. That's just passive aggressive.

I think you have a lot of anger, Indy Hipster Coffee Shop Near Where I Work. It takes the form of self-consciously rejecting the dominant Starbucks paradigm but I think it's much more personal than that. As you point your finger at Starbucks, please note all those other fingers on your hand pointing back at you.

I went to see Starbucks this morning. It was nice to me. Asked how I was doing. Got a little pushy about its taste for Paul McCartney but that's no biggie. It had cleaned up around the place. Swept. Maybe got some cleaning solutions out. Looked like it had been working out. Had the New York Times available instead of shabbily stacked back issues of The Stranger. This is what I want, Indy Hipster Coffee Shop Near Where I Work.

Look, we'll still see each other around. I'm in the neighborhood. You're definitely in the neighborhood. And I'd love to stay in touch and meet up some time. Just not for coffee.

Your friend,
John

I Keep Forgetting To Tell You Guys

I write for MSN sometimes. Music articles mostly. The latest one is about what I call Bands of the Living Dead, who keep putting out records long after you thought they broke up.

On 7/22, the Seattle Times will publish my investigation of whether Federal Way has soul.

A Joke From Charlie (Age 6)

Why did the amoeba drift around?
(why?)
Because nothing had been invented yet! It's the beginning of life!

A Joke From Kate (Age 4), Who Is Trying To Keep Up

Knock knock
(who's there?)
Pom
(Pom who?)
Pom! I'm an amoeba! I'm drifting around! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Sometimes You Just Do Something That Takes A Lot Out Of You

I've been in St Paul this week (yes, everyone's nice, no, I have no plans to move here unless the Vikings are serious about that punting job) and I've been hosting Weekend America.

I've been really interested in the way people live with music lately. It's what I really want to be writing about. And on this week's show, I did a little exploration of the shuffle setting on the computer and how it relates to myself, my wife, my kids, and also how it relates to my late brother and late father. Thanks to some outstanding editing and sound mixing, I think it turned out really well. I think it's beautiful, actually. I'm very proud of it even though it's very hard to listen for me personally.

Anyway, here it is. Audio is either up there now or will be soon depending on when you listen. Don't be deterred by The Wiggles. There's more to it than that.

Update on Friendliness of St Paul Baristas

BARISTA: "Hey Dave, how was that run you did? Did you go the same way."
(PRESUMABLY) DAVE: "No, we went a different way this time but hoo boy I got tired."

In St Paul again. Thunder and lightning. Wind. Evenings not so devastatingly hot as I had feared.

A Conversation With Charlie (Age 6) About Six

We're in the car listening, as always, to Movin' 92.5 and the song "Let's Talk About Sex" by Salt-n-Pepa comes on.
HIM: Turn it up! I love this song!
JILL: (worried look)
ME: (singing along) Let's talk about six, baby, let's talk about you and me.
HIM: What are they saying?
JILL: They're talking about six. All the good things and the bad things that can be.
ME: Having to go to school all day but also learning to swim.
JILL: (singing) Let's talk ABOUT six, let's talk about six!
ME: So no wonder you like this song.
HIM: Yeah!

And THAT is some serious bad-ass parenting, y'all!

My Wife...

thinks Modest Mouse sounds like The Cure. "It's total new wave", she says. But she's wrong and crazy, isn't she?

I thought so.

FAMILY HERMAN PROJECT #10

It's been a while since I posted a new one of these but I wanted to make sure I delivered quality.

#1

"Can you pretend you're Grandma just once and give us whatever we want?"

**

#2

"Make sure you stop a car with a roof rack."

**

The shadowy men of Herman (which one is Herman, by the way?) are back with their odd Grandma fixations. This time they're lurking in the bushes. And it's the use of first person plural that's troubling. How many are there? And what's involved with the chair? What do they want the elderly hitchhiker to give them that Grandma normally provides? Solace? Are they still so inconsolable after the death of Grandma (presumably decades ago) that they now live in the shrubs near her house, hoarding her old furniture? It's literally a cry for help.

Dolly and Jeffy have had enough of living in their house. The dotted line paths wherever they travel, the dog named Barfy, the inhuman hauntings of Not Me and Dead Grandpa In Heaven. Screw it. They're taking off. Too young to drive, they've demanded Mommy perform a carjacking. And they're taking the damn fridge. There's still some perfectly good pasketti in there.

**

Charlie (Age 6) and Ken Griffey, Jr. at the Same Time

Get That Camera Out Of My Face!

Turns out I'm now notable. No sightings yet. You'll have to try harder, ye photographic hounds.

FAMILY HERMAN PROJECT #9

I took some liberties here, using Saturday's Herman and today's Family Circus. All in the name of cognitive illumination, though.

1.

"No fair, Jeffy! You can't call dibs on Grandma!"

**
2.

"I'd like to introduce you to my second wife, but I'm still stuck with the first one."

**

Who are these shadowy men in #1 haggling over reservations made for the enormous and apparently oblivious grandmother? The guy speaking seems to currently be in possession of 8-Foot Grandma (yes, use it as the name for your new rock band) and he's scolding the other guy. Is it his brother? Cousin? And why are they so competitive to obtain 8-Foot Grandma? Band name can be abbreviated to 8FG.

Down below, we have a choice. If we are to buy into the characters of Family Circus, Jeffy has apparently announced, smugly, that Grandma is his second wife, much to the consternation of Dolly who just can't keep up in this dysfunctional game that's being played. She's still stuck with her first wife. Is it Mommy? We don't know. We don't want to. The other option is to toss out all we know about the family, in which case we just have a boy who enjoys sitting with an eyeball-less elderly woman while an angry girl protests her own futile efforts at multiple marriage.

Tough call. Most disturbing, of course, is the continued teeniness of Jeffy. Or is #2's eyeball-less woman just another example of an 8FG?
**

FAMILY HERMAN PROJECT #8

1.

"That blur you saw go by before was me running."

**

2.

"When I said you could have your friends over for lunch, I meant humans."

**

I don't think I have any jokes today. I'm genuinely frightened for what's happening in #2. Of course Jeffy is crying. Of course he is. And he has my vote.

**



**
**
**

KEXP & The Current

I got some response to this post a while back about the comparative playlists of the two stations. But rather than rely on my cryptic "song I've never heard that I like" descriptions, you can look at the playlists of the respective stations KEXP and The Current for yourself. Curiously, both played The Kinks this morning. Some prefer one, some prefer the other, but neither is owned by Clear Channel or has a Wacky Morning Zoo Crew and are thus virtuous.

FAMILY HERMAN PROJECT #7

I think we have a good one here.

**
1.

"Am I doing anything cute, Grandma?"

**
2.

"Who's having the raw herring?"

**
**

Now in #1, we have our old friend Pathos the Waiter. Grandma has showed up at his place of employment with a pet seal. Any reasonable server in this situation would just tell Grandma that no pets are allowed even if they are capable of quietly sitting in a chair. Quietly escort her out. Really, to do anything short of that is grounds for dismissal. Instead, Pathos desperately tries to endear himself to what we have to assume is an emotional tyrant of a grandparent who has recently gone crazy enough to bring a seal to lunch. He wants her approval even if it is in the form of infantilization. And no, you're not doing anything cute. Unless you consider losing your dignity to be cute then your goddamn adorable.

Over in #2, we have Jeffy with his idea of what the elderly eat. They're old, they're peculiar, I bet they eat raw herring, he figures. Either that or Grandma is so desperately unwelcome on these near constant visits that Mommy and Daddy feed her only raw herring. Jeffy, fat and happy on lunchables and chocolate Quik, knows this and, joining in the derision, mocks her. It's all that he knows. I mean, look at the poor woman's face. How did it come to this?, she's thinking. Not even Dead Grandpa in Heaven can help her now.

And my goodness, Jeffy is small.

"Moe" is to Fruit Flies as "Voldemort" is to the Wizarding Community

You can call me He Who Must Not Be Named if you want, fruit flies. Doesn't change who I am.

We had a really bad fruit fly problem in our kitchen. They were everywhere, even when we eliminated all fruit from the kitchen. I went online for a possible remedy. I found two and tried one:

Fill a small bowl with water.
Drop in a bit of detergent.
Place a bit of fruit in (I used a pear slice) so that it's partially sticking out of the water.
Cover the whole thing with tight plastic wrap.
Poke a few holes in the plastic wrap.

The flies are attracted by the smell of the fruit. They linger on the bowl and eventually find the holes and climb in. Once inside, they can't find the holes to get out and eventually fall into the detergenty water.

I did this last night. By this morning there were dozens of the bastards dead in there, plus one resilient baby fruit fly who survived but has a lightning scar on his head. Weird.

The other plan, which I haven't tried yet:
Put all your skanky fruit in the oven, like a pile of it, leave the door open, but obviously don't turn it on.
Go to bed.
Get up.
Slam oven door closed.
Bake, baby, bake.

That might be tonight.

My Job This Week

I'm hosting Weekend America this week and doing a story on this video:



Mike Gravel, who's running for President, has put out this video where he simply stares into the camera for an uncomfortably long time and then walks away, throws a large rock in a lake, and keeps on walking. No campaign promises, no speechifying, no talking at all, really. Just staring, walking, throwing, walking.

I'm hoping to interview Gravel himself, especially since I talked to him a few months ago. I want to know why this video was made, what its purpose is, and why it makes me feel like Mike Gravel is stealing my soul. See if you can watch the whole thing and tell me what happens to your soul by the end.

FAMILY HERMAN PROJECT #6

As always, please vote for which one is better. You can define better as "funnier", "more disturbing", "more relevant to the human condition", or anything else.

"But we can keep Grandma, right?"

**

"I told her I wanted a 'trial separation' so she tried to separate my shoulder!"

**

At first I thought, how can you not vote for the sad old man in the hospital bed? He just wants to keep his grandma or his wife or whoever it is he calls Grandma.

And who is that other guy?

But Family Circus Art / Herman Caption (FCA/HC) is intriguing too. Mommy is pulling expired food from the fridge, even seems kind of pissed off about it, and Dolly chooses just that moment to tell the family of an attempted maiming. Who was this person Dolly was trying to escape from? And will restraining orders be required?

Still, I'm a sucker for pathos so I gotta go with Herman Art / Family Circus Caption (HA/FCC).

**

New Music Wednesdays

Hooray hooray hooray for The National and their new album Boxer. Singer Matt Berninger has that kind of low throttle Stephen Merritt baritone thing going on but The National is way more band-y than Magnetic Fields. Plus, the band has two(!) sets of brothers in it. The first track, "Fake Empire", is giving Modest Mouse's Dashboard a run for its money in the competition for this year's Summer Song. "Stay out super late tonight, picking apples, making pie," go the lyrics, "put a little something in our lemonade and take it with us." Heck yes. Of course we will. It is summer.

FAMILY HERMAN PROJECT #5

"I was a drawing a dog, but his neck got too long, so I made him a giraffe."


**

"We managed to put the fire out. Just do the front lawn."

**

I'm leaning toward #1 here, personally because of the pathos of older, sadder, lonelier people calling up firefighters to discuss failed art projects. Then again, Jeffy's cheerful obliviousness to losing his home in a fire is darkly fascinating. Yes, smoke filled the playroom but I continued to draw. Who set the fire? Has anyone seen Not Me lately?

I've noticed that vote totals for these things have dropped with each passing day. But I'm going to stick with it for a while longer. There's an axiom in public radio that just when a producer gets sick of a segment is when the public starts to like it. Not sick of this yet. Still weirdly interesting to me and hell, it is still just a blog. Some non-Family Herman content coming soon.

Also, please note: you can vote as often as you like. I may change that but at the moment, if you're a Herman Art fan, you can crush the Family Circus forces by just voting thousands of times.

FAMILY HERMAN PROJECT #4

I'm hosting a lot the next few weeks so there probably won't be so many Monday updates. But onward we go and today we drift far from our humor moorings.

"The hardest thing to get in my house is permission."

**

"Oh, it's you! I thought it was a burglar."

**

I have to admit, I've been kind of rooting for Herman Art / Family Circus Caption for a while. I think FC Art has a bit of an ongoing advantage because it is inherently funny to see these insipid children saying things that denote the struggles of middle age. Meanwhile, characters from Herman Art saying these childlike things is just sad. I think today's Herman Art with FC Caption is okay, the woman delivering a riposte to the clobbered and cuckolded husband although I think the Herman Art with original caption might be more disturbingly fascinating. But today I have to go with FC Art. Billy is completely non-plussed at the idea of a home invasion. He thought his friend was a burglar but he wasn't prepared to do anything to save his home, possessions, or family. He was just sitting there. Then again, would you save Dolly?
*
*
*

*
*
*

FAMILY HERMAN PROJECT #3

Voting continues. As do the odd feelings I get.

"When you lie on your tummy, your bottom is your top."

**

"That's your organic shampoo."

**

I must confess that this project has really helped me change my mind about Dolly. Like everyone sensible, I've hated her my whole life. Bossy, too deliberately cutesy, manipulative. But in this context, she's simply hanging out on the couch sharing a casual observation about hair care. Seems happy. Meanwhile today's Herman strip with FC caption just seems like the album cover to some early-80's skate punk record. Freaks me out, man. Tough call.

FAMILY HERMAN PROJECT

Let's ride this thing out a little more. See what else it yields. Once again, taking Family Circus and Herman cartoons and switching captions. I know I'm not the first to do this but I believe it will lead to a better understanding of the human condition.

"Be very quiet, Jeffy. Grandma's tea has to sleep for three minutes."

**

"What can I say for about seven dollars?"

**

A little more meta today, don't you think? There is charm in the precocious Dolly affixing monetary value to conversation. But I'm thinking the poignant pathos of the insane old man calling the florist "Jeffy" gets my vote. Because there's just no way that guy's Grandma is still alive.

A Simple Poll

Here's something I do when I see a paper copy of The Seattle Times. I swap the captions for Herman and Family Circus and decide which one is funnier. They both, I think, are enriched in the process. So let's try it today:

"PJ likes to hear the same story over and over. When he's older he'll love rerun season."

**

"My ex-husband was up all night buying everyone drinks."

**
Now to the voting, at least until the cease and desist letters roll in.

Good News!

The apex of human comedy has been achieved. It's name is MISHEARD LYRICS - Pearl Jam - Yellow Ledbetter

PITT: Aw, they were just grooming you for Batman.

Hilarious interview with Ocean's 13 stars via Kottke

I've Never Met Tom Lennon

but I know four things about him:

1. He plays Lt. Dangle, the short-shorts wearing cop on Reno 911
2. He was a high school classmate of my beloved wife's
3. He co-wrote Night at the Museum, a movie I rented for the kids last night
4. He's sly.

In the film, a good movie by the way, Ben Stiller, as Larry, the new night watchman, is confronted by Ricky Gervais, playing his boss, Mr. McPhee. And the writers give us a little instructive bit of dialogue on the differences between Mr. Stiller and Mr. Gervais.

Mr. McPhee: Oh, haha - look at me, the comedy night guard. Do you want to get into a battle of humor? Do you?
Larry: Um, no. No I don't want to get into a battle of humor.
Mr. McPhee: That's right, because it would be a bloodbath.

It would be. And it is.

New Motto For My Alma Mater

Federal Way High School: Too Freaking Stupid to Notice a 33-year-old Narc

Yep, they're the ones who banned both An Inconvenient Truth and Huckleberry Finn, too. Honestly, it's a miracle I can even dress myself coming out of that place.

The Difference Between Playlists of KEXP and The Current

Both are contemporary music public radio stations. One's in Seattle, one's in St. Paul.

KEXP:
Song I've never heard that I like
Song I've never heard that I don't like
Song I've never heard that's okay
Song I've never heard that I like
Song I've never heard that's okay
Song I've never heard that's okay
Song I've never heard that I don't like
Song I've never heard that I don't like
Song I've never heard that I like
Modest Mouse

The Current:
Song I've never heard that I like
Song I've heard before that I like
Song I've never heard that's okay
Song I've never heard THAT I LOVE
Song I've never heard that's okay
Song I've never heard that I like
Song I've never heard that I don't like
Cool for Cats by Squeeze
Song I've never heard that I don't like
Song I've never heard that I like
Modest Mouse

A Conversation with Charlie (Age 6) About The Lord

(he discovers a little plastic noisemaker toy where two hands smack together, printed on one hand is "Clap Your Hands for the Lord!")

HIM: Dad, what is the Lord?
ME: God. They're talking about God.
HIM: Clap your hands for the Lord. Is it Lord Voldemort?
ME: No, it's God. Why would they make something encouraging you to clap for Lord Voldemort?
HIM: Maybe it's an evil toy.
ME: It's not an evil toy.
HIM: Is it a Sith Lord? Clap your hands for Emperor Palpatine?
ME: No! It's just God. Not everything is Star Wars or Harry Potter. It's just God.
HIM: Okay. (long pause) Maybe it's an evil god.

Hotdish On A Stick

So my recent discussion of the introductory (introductive?) powers of Midwesterners spurred some discussion about "hotdish", the Wikipedia entry of which was nicely provided by dear friend Money J Money Nine. Through that entry, I found out about Hotdish On A Stick, served at the Minnesota State Fair last year.

And, I just can't describe how I feel about it. I mean...I wrote a book...I'm a journalist...I'm actually quite good at coming up with words but Hotdish On A Stick? Nothing.

Hotdish. On A Stick. Stick. Hotdish.

Helvetica?

Helvetica! (Blogger doesn't offer Helvetica)

Clearing Up Misconceptions

I still love Seattle. It's still home.

Hello. My name is John Moe.

So I was at Caribou Coffee this morning. It's a Midwest coffee chain. And the barista was serving up drinks to customers and saying stuff like, "Here you go, Tom" and "Haven't seen you in a while, Jeff" and they were saying, "Thanks, see you later, Gail".

And I thought, wow, they all know each other! What are the odds that they are all acquainted socially outside the inherently impersonal arena of coffee service? Maybe they...grew...up together?...? But then I realized that no, they had just introduced themselves properly at some point. People do that here. They have names and use them. That doesn't always happen in my native Northwest.

A couple of weeks ago, we were at a school picnic and my (Midwestern) wife introduced herself to a table full of people where Charlie (age 6) was sitting with a friend. "Hi, I'm Jill Moe," she said, "I'm Charlie and Kate's mom." Some of them smiled and said, like, "Oh."

And that was it. What's. Your. Name. ?. It's not hard, folks. I've heard similar complaints about LA. Your parents worked hard to give you that name. Use it.


Update: I refer to eating casserole in the comments. But Midwesterners have told me, politely of course and by name, that it's called "hotdish" over there. Glad I didn't even attempt the whole pop/soda thing.

Why I'm in St. Paul

For someone who makes his living doing public stuff, I realize that I don't do much self promotion on this site. The book, yes, but not much else. I think it's a combination of not wanting to come off as a self-aggrandizing jerk and also just wanting to have a place where it's not about editors and engineers and publishers and what readers/listeners/fans think.

Anyway, this week is kind of interesting. I'm hosting Weekend America all by myself this weekend. I've co-hosted it a bunch before but this is kind of a unique thing. Not that I've bound Bill Radke up in duct tape and put him in a storage locker, which I certainly have NOT, especially not in locker 5B at Fred's U-Storage near the Los Angeles airport. But it's just me this week and if you'd like to besiege American Public Media demanding I get a weekly four hour program and an 800% pay increase, well, I'm powerless to stop you.

The show can be heard here as of Saturday.

I am in St. Paul

Not the actual saint, just the Minnesota city named after him. Here's what St. Paul has:

- Big metal statues of Peanuts characters (Charles Schulz was born here, would have been cooler if he wasn't and they just decided to put them up)
- Palatial Minnesota Public Radio studios that make all other public radio facilities look like shelters for 19th century cannery workers
- Animatronic 90-foot tall Garrison Keillor that smashes cars at random
- A great radio station, The Current, which is a lot like Seattle's KEXP except I occasionally know one of the bands being played on The Current
- Lakes! Lakes! Lakes!
- Lightning!
- My heart.

We Have a Winner for Political Quote of the Year

Thanks for your entries, everyone, but John Boehner takes the prize with:

"I promised the President today that I wouldn't say anything bad about ... this piece of shit bill"

New Games Designed by Kate (Age 4) Based On Songs She Has No Business Listening To But Loves All the Same

1. "Wolfmother"
Based on the song Dimension, one of the players hides, then, when the other players come to seek, everyone screams just like they do in the song. Repeat.

2. "I Think I Smell A Rat"
Based on the song by the White Stripes, one person hides and is "the rat". Then one other person, or possibly more, looks for them while saying "I think I smell a rat!". Then the rat jumps out. Repeat.

I Don't Want to Show This to My Good Friend Sean Nelson






Lip Dub - Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger from amandalynferri on Vimeo

He doesn't need to know that his most #1-est song has been taken over by the cast of, apparently, a Fox drama about post-collegiate life.

Music Pick Wednesday!

I think this new Modest Mouse record just gets better every time I listen. I don't know why lead singer Isaac Brock decided to mostly sing like a combination of Tom Waits and Cookie Monster on a fistful of amphetamines, but I like it! They have Johnny Marr in the band now, the old guitarist for The Smiths. Who'd have thought a bunch of dudes from Issaquah would have the guy from The Smiths in their band.

Am I Notable?

I am not. At least according to this cool index of famousesque Seattle folk.

Proposed cover of paperback edition of (did I mention I wrote a) book

I like it!

Rules for Rock, Paper, Scissors as Established by Charlie (age 6)

Rock crushes scissors
Scissors cut paper
Paper covers rock but it really ought not to
Cake gets cut by scissors
Rock crushes cake
Cake stains paper
Blue whale swallows rock, scissors, and paper
Missile does not hurt blue whale because there are no missiles in this game
Jupiter obliterates blue whale
Salad loses to everything and wait there is no salad in this game either
Black holes don't count

The Old Negro Space Program

Rented For Your Consideration this week. Okay movie. I dug around on the iMDB page of it and ran across this short. It tells the story, in faux Ken Burns style, of the Old Negro Space Program. Full movie below, ten minutes but well worth your time.

3 out of 10

Tonight is Bon Jovi Night on American Idol

Other nights I would really like to see on American Idol:

Rammstein Night
Kate Bush Night
Beat Happening Night
Throat Singing Night
Gregorian Chant Night
Itsy-Bitsy Spider Night
Just Fucking Screaming As Loud As You Can Night
Kraftwerk Night
Wagner Night
Jack Wagner Night
Rick Springfield Night (Jesse's Girl not allowed)
Whistling Night
John Cage 4:33 Night

Aziz Is My Hero

For your viewing pleasure...

A long stream of David Caruso lines from the best unintentional comedy series on television: CSI Miami.

Two Things About Songs

1. Neil Young's Words (Between the Lines of Age) is freakin' awesome.

2. A couple of weeks ago I went to the Long Winters' show at the Showbox. The set closed with a cover of Feelin' Stronger Everyday. Horns and everything. If anyone has a recording of the Long Winters version, they should first listen to it and then make it available to the whole wide world. John Roderick is a beautiful man.

I Have Some Words For You:

If you are fighting the disease of depression, or even if you think you might be and you aren't sure, go get some help. Talk to a doctor. Take it very seriously. Don't just assume it will go away. And if you know someone who is fighting this, encourage them to get help also. Do it today.

On April 4th, my brother Rick lost his fight with this disease and he took his own life. The past few weeks have been hell, of course. As I write this, I've returned from his service in San Diego. I really didn't think I would write about Rick's death on this blog since that's not generally the kind of thing I do here. But it is with great resolve and all the strength I have remaining that I pledge that some hope must emerge from the wreckage of his passing. The hope is this: someone will get help, someone will find a path to better tomorrows, someone's family and friends won't go through what we've all been through.

Here was what ran in the paper. But what I'm writing here is not an obituary since this isn't the place. I offer only a plea: get help. Mental health issues are tricky because the thing that's wrong isn't as obvious as when there's a physical injury and there's still an unfortunate social stigma attached to them. Get help anyway. Just get some help. I'm leaving comments open but I really don't need any condolences. Honestly. But if you have some thoughts on leading yourself or others toward hope, please share.

Monsters of Metal Detection

Bill Wyman's post-Stones career offers this for anyone who demands their beach combing devices be approved by 97-year-old bass players.

A Conversation with Charlie (Age 6) About Sports

(Setting: in the car, listening as always to Movin 92.5, music to make you feel good. Justin Timberlake's "SexyBack" is playing. The chorus features the incessantly repeated line "Go ahead, be gone with it" but with all the engineering and funkification it sounds like "Go hippy go".)

HIM: What does she mean, "Go hippy go"?
ME: He.
HIM: He. That's a man?
ME: Yeah.
HIM: What does it mean about "Go hippy go"?
ME: Well, do you know what a hippy is? Like long haired guys, they wear a lot of brown, say "man" a lot?
HIM: Yeah, I think so.
ME: Well, people used to race them. They'd put numbers on their backs and line them up at a starting line on a race track and then see how fast the hippies would run and which hippy would come in first.
HIM: Really?
ME: And you could place bets depending on which hippy you thought would be fastest. So in the song Justin Timberlake is perhaps recalling some old hippy races he attended as a boy, the practice faded out in the early 90's due to some lawsuits resulting from injuries, and he's remembering how he used to cheer for his favorite racing hippies.
HIM: Hm. Cool.

Big Comeback Planned

I'm going to be all Elvis '68 y'all. Not sure why I've been so out of touch. Might have something to do with Charlie (age 6) reaching the point in his maturity where perhaps quoting him online all the time is somewhat discourteous. Or not. Might be the new job.
Might be the tense negotiations with Kate (age 4)
HER: Dad, can I have a guinea pig?
ME: No.
HER: Can I have one when I'm five?
ME: No.
HER: When can I have one?
ME: When you're 33, I'll buy you a guinea pig.
HER: Alright.

But I do plan to ramp up posting soon.

Meantime, I'll be in the bushes, controlling things with my mind.

Twitter plus Google Maps...

= me staring slack jawed at the world we have wrought.

Oh My.

I'm working on a story this week about anti-drug PSAs. And I found this one. It features LaToya Jackson, Nancy Reagan, Patrick Swayze, Boogaloo Shrimp, Tootie, and scary living posters of David Hasselhoff and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

It's called "Stop the Madness". But the madness is just beginning.

Rocky Roll!

Come on down to the Seattle Drum School's LAB (Little Auditorium in the Back...12510 15th Ave NE in Seattle) tonight and enjoy some good old fashioned Birthday Party music with your old friends Chicken Starship! It's Paige Chicken's birthday (she's Scott Chicken's wife) and all she wanted for her birthday was a concert with her two favorite bands, us and the Sacred Truths. And for once her husband didn't let her down!

The show starts at 7...there was supposed to be a third band on the bill, but they have since bailed. The Drum School is trying to round up a replacement, but it's quite possible that they won't be able to. In which case the show will still start at 7, with the Truths getting the joint jumping. We will then hop on stage some time around 8 and shut down the joint.

Tickets are $5 at the door. It's all-ages, so no booze, but we will have various liquid refreshments available for a minor donation, and plenty of free birthday cake. So come help Paige Chicken whoop it up!


Chicken Starship
www.chickenstarship.com
www.myspace.com/chickenstarship

A Conversation with Charlie (Age 6) About Love

ME: So who was that girl at soccer practice?
HIM: Oh, that was (x).
ME: She seems to really, ah, like you.
HIM: She loves me! And whenever it's time to pick partners she just grabs me!
ME: Yeah, I noti--
HIM: And kisses me! She just loves me so much! She loves me so much that I just have to love her too. She kind of made me love her by loving me so much.
ME: Well, that'll happen sometimes.
HIM: It's like she wants to marry me but I'm just a kid!

Soul of Starbucks

By now, you've heard all about this memo Howard Schultz sent around about Starbucks losing its soul. I'm doing a story on it for this weekend's show. Going to a Starbucks with a pastor and a soul singer to talk about the idea of soul. On Seattlest, I found this clip:



and sent it to my editor in LA. His response after watching it: "I'm going to punch you the next time I see you."

Kate (Age 4) and Charlie (Age 6) try to make sense of Ozzy's bat eating, John Bonham's death, and the overall behavior of Motley Crue

Fortunately, the lead singers of Skid Row and Quiet Riot provide counsel. Here. I don't ordinarily plug my own stories, mostly cause there's too many of them. But I really love this story a lot.