d u d e r n e t

Catching up

So, this picture-a-day thing is not working out so well. (Seems I'm not the only one.) I have other things to worry about; I'll try to keep posting them, but as you've already figured out, despite my early promises, they won't be daily.

I moved in this weekend, gratefully leaving behind a house that was not kind.

I have so far enjoyed my hot tub and my grill and have so far not unpacked most of my things. None of these developments should surprise you.

In other news:

Kevin shared his recipe for his World Famous Taters, which you see pictured above, and which have graced nearly every epic party in San Jose for the last eight years. If you have the choice, take his. But my version turned out pretty damn good.

In related Kevin news, he's joined the steady stream of people leaving the Mercury News and is moving to Alabama to be a fancy executive editor. Congrats, buddy! Alabama's a lot closer to Florida than California is!

In UK news, you can't legally drink on the Tube any more. If the last night of legal drinking was any indication of how the ban will go... uh... next time I'm in London I'll be sure to bring my own paper bag.

Back to work here in a matter of hours. And only a week and a half or so 'til I descend upon Brooklyn and Mary's new digs for a (long) weekend of musics and foods and drinks.

Odds, ends

New Beck track is pretty sweet.

Isn't Pete Doherty's son, Astile, adorable? Let's hope mom doesn't let dad around too often...

None of these 10 toys made me gay. But the group of kids saying "I love you, Michael Jackson!" is more than a little disturbing.

Had a pretty blah couple of days off (through no one's fault but my own), and officially fell off the photo-a-day wagon. Trying to steer the ship back in the right direction, with higher hopes for the upcoming three-day weekend.

What is it ...

... about the ocean at nighttime that makes me so oddly contemplative?

The last couple of times we've spent a Saturday drinking at Elbo Room, I find myself drawn to the beach across the street. It's dark, there's a few couples scattered here and there, but mostly it's just the roar of the waves, and the whistle of the wind.

And for some reason, it ruins my bar-time mood... I have those pesky "What am I doing with my life?" thoughts staring at that vast body of water, and yet I'm always drawn back for more. Tonight, I couldn't help but think how much I'd like to just spend hours laying there, listening to those sounds and these thoughts. I don't think any answers would present themselves, but that doesn't really seem to matter.

A new home, soon

I'm thrilled that I've signed a lease on a new place in Fort Lauderdale. I'll move in on June 1.

It's a beautiful (and beautifully furnished!) bungalow in Victoria Park. About five minutes from work; just a couple minutes to the beach. Best of all, it has a nice, private outdoor area, with a deck, a grill and my very own hot tub.

I'm growing a little sick of the 15-20 minute drive to and from work; to and from bars and restaurants and to and from friends' houses. So this is a welcome change... and as soon as I walked in to see it a couple weeks ago, it felt like home. Come visit!

Here and there

A few tidbits of interest (to me, at least):

- My second-favorite L.A. band, The Airborne Toxic Event, signed a deal with Majordomo Records this week, a Shout! Factory imprint that's also home to Earlimart. Big news, to be celebrated (in part, at least) by their first television appearance, Thursday night (well, technically early Friday morning) on Last Call with Carson Daly. Tune in; check out.

- The preview dates for Billy Elliot the Musical on Broadway have been pushed back slightly, to October. But today, Elton John and Stephen Daldry introduced the new Billies (one of whom, Trent Kowalik, has been performing in the London show) to rapturous applause (Newsday video above) . And read a really nice story on the cover of the NYT's Arts section.

- The schedule for Central Park Summerstage has been announced, including a free show with Vampire Weekend on June 14. Seems like a good time to visit . . .

- . . . my great friend Mary, who is leaving Indianapolis and the Star for New York City! Or close. Staten Island. I couldn't be more excited for her . . . It sounds like a great job, and living in Brooklyn also sounds more than kickass, topped only by the prospect of my crashing on her Brooklyn floor for such things as the aforementioned concert weekend.

- Also, I need a haircut. And I bought a new shirt tonight. And I'm addicted to Twitter. And Norm Macdonald (yay) was hilarious on Leno (ick) last night. OKbye.

One week down, many more to go

Hours away from starting my second week of work, thought it was time for a brief update here.

I don't know that I've ever felt so comfortable and at home in a new job this quickly. It helps, of course, that I knew a handful of folks here before I started, but the chemistry and energy and creativity at this place can only be likened to the Merc back in its hey-day.

That's not to say there aren't -- and won't be -- challenges. But what workplace is without those? Especially in this industry. There were little hiccups my first week at the plant, sure, but they were not related to my actual job. I'm surrounded by good, smart people and that's what's truly important in a situation like this one.

Anyway, after almost six months of unemployment, this whole "weekend" concept of only having two days off each week rather than, well... seven... will still take some getting used to. But I have high hopes for those other five days and what they hold for the future.

A list for life

Stealing ideas isn't on the list below, but if it was, I could cross it off already.

Playing off Amy's adaptation of MightyGirl's posts, I've started compiling a Life List, or whatever. Essentially, things I'd like to have accomplished before I die. Some are trivial, some are life-changing. Some are much easier to accomplish than others, but none are, to me, unrealistic. (That was sort of my guiding principal: If it's next to impossible, it doesn't make the list.)

Anyway, my goal is to reach a hundred items. Below, you'll find the first 50. I'm already at work on the next 50, but think if I kept going at this point, the items would get a little less substantial, and I don't want that. So, without further ado, and in no particular order other than that which they popped into my head:

1. Be a great dad.
2. Coach my kid's sports team.
3. Visit South Africa.
4. Attend a World Cup.
5. Attend a Winter Olympics.
6. Have a beer in a beachside bar on at least six of the seven continents.
7. Smoke a Cuban cigar.
8. Meet Amy Sedaris.
9. Fall madly in love, even if it doesn't last.
10. Make it last.

11. Learn to expertly cook Chinese food.
12. Spend a week's vacation completely off the grid, sans phone, web, outside contact.
13. Stay in a hotel built into a cave or mountain.
14. Renovate a house so perfectly, that I'll never want to move ever again.
15. Design a magazine cover for something actually sold on newsstands.
16. Tag along for at least a few days with a band on tour.
17. Have a photograph published in a magazine.
18. Camp in the mud at the Glastonbury festival.
19. Swim in the Black Sea.
20. Visit Russia.

21. Visit Antarctica and take pictures of penguins.
22. Live in England for at least a year.
23. Take my mom on a trip to Alaska.
24. Have a well-trained dog.
25. Find a reason to smile, every day.
26. Make a portrait of a random person in every one of the 50 states.
27. Run a half-marathon.
28. Own a house with hardwood floors.
29. Be somebody's hero.
30. Sing Christmas carols with my family.

31. Drink Absinthe in France.
32. Write a book.
33. Come on down, on The Price is Right.
34. Watch Letterman from the studio audience.
35. Strike up a conversation with someone who completely intimidates me.
36. Ice skate under the stars, holding someone's hand, while wearing a scarf.
37. Trace my family's roots to the point of standing exactly where a relative lived more than 100 years ago.
38. Make a New Year's resolution and actually keep it.
39. Bid on something -- and win -- at a real auction (like with paddles and such).
40. Stay up all night talking on the beach.

41. Find a family camping destination that becomes a summer tradition.
42. Stomp grapes.
43. Buy a bespoke suit on Savile Row.
44. Catch a fish and eat it for dinner.
45. Plant a garden.
46. Learn how to change a tire.
47. Visit a foreign country with no plans, no reservations and just a backpack.
48. See the Northern Lights.
49. Spend a week on a houseboat.
50. Lose 75 pounds.

The next batch will come before too long. In the meantime, share yours!

We have gizzards, how 'bout you?

HOLLYWOOD, Fla. -- Phew. After more than 3,100 miles of driving through eight states, I arrived "home" a week ago nearly to the minute. Why the delay, then? Internet came today. (Though if you've been following the Twitter feed, none of this is news to you.)

So, it's been a week of unpacking and buying things and putting together furniture and getting lost and... you know, basic new-city stuff. But I'm pretty much settled, and still have almost a week 'til I start this whole work thing again.

The move has been blissfully stress-free so far, and taking up residence in a place where you already know people has come as a very welcome change from my norm. Drinking on the beach cannot be undersold. Neither can bars open 'til 4 a.m. Nor the joy of spending a lazy Saturday afternoon lounging in the perfect sun in the perfect sand and playing Frisbee in the perfect water. Just saying.

So, you know: Come visit.

Dream or nightmare?

TALLAHASSEE, Fla. -- So, I don't usually talk about things that are very personal here, but I've got to make an exception this time, just in the interest of prosperity.

Dreams are funny: The best ones, the ones from which you never want to wake, those memories disappear as soon as you open your eyes. Or shortly thereafter. But I had one the other night that still haunts me a bit; especially the detail with which I can recall everything days later.

I was living at home, but many of my friends lived nearby... As if I was still in high school, only we were all our current ages. And the district attorney held a press conference (Kwame-style) to announce my arrest. It seems I was caught as one of a trio for plotting to -- and perhaps more than that -- rob a bank.

The press conference was at night, but I couldn't -- for some reason -- turn myself in until the next afternoon. So, I broke the news to my mom when she got home and then started really thinking about what life would be like spending the next few decades behind bars.

And that was weird, too, because there was no doubt in my mind that's what was going to happen. There was no escaping it, no hope of being found not guilty. Because I was guilty of whatever they'd accused me of, simple as that.

But the bulk of the dream was the next day, when I would ultimately turn myself in. My friend Chris agreed to hang out with me on my last day as a free man, and we spent it walking around the little town I'm from.

People stared, and gawked, and whispered, wondering what a scumbag like me was still doing walking among the free. And the last real memory of the dream was this:

I had to read the newspaper story about my pending arrest, but all the papers in our town were sold out, this was such a huge scandal. So, Chris and I went to the library to look at that day's paper on microfiche (!). And, as he looked over my shoulder, the last thing I remember was being disappointed it was an AP report.

So. I'm sure that says many things about the many ways in which I'm an effed up human being. But mostly, what was so terrifying, was how real this dream was. When I finally awoke from it in the wee hours in my Tallahassee hotel room, I actually said aloud, "Oh, thank God!" Probably the most real dream I've ever had. Why can't the good ones feel that legit?

South by Not Me

So, my best-laid SXSW plans have gone down the crapper, and I've had to cancel my trip to Austin for the nation's best music festival. I'm more than a little disappointed I won't get to spend time with some great bands, but there's always next year, yes? Yes.

Some unforeseen moving complications have reared their ugly heads, and my drive out of California won't likely start 'til Monday now. Which at least gives me one more weekend to enjoy all that California has to offer. The current itinerary sets a leisurely pace, with overnight stops in Palm Springs, El Paso, Austin, New Orleans (for, I think, a few nights) and Gainesville before rolling into Fort Lauderdale.

I'll be posting here at each stop, hopefully with some visual aids. But until then, the packing continues.