Tough interview
I dreamed I was hired to write an editorial for the New York Times. I lost the research material I was going to use on Dick Cheney, something to do with a series of inconsistent stands he'd taken on NASA funding, but fortunately my mom was entertaining Dick and Lynne Cheney in her home that day. Dick was grandfatherly and accomodating, except that he didn't answer my questions.
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
Monday, April 26, 2004
Friday, April 23, 2004
You oughta know
Next Wednesday yours truly is playing a solo gig at the Slipper Club in downtown Madison. That's the old Rainbow Room, site of many of my past glories. (No, not that kind of glory.)
I do believe it's my first billed solo show! If you know what I mean. There'll be two sets of country music old and new, original and unoriginal.
The lowdown:
WHEN: Wednesday, Apr. 28, 10:00 p.m.
WHERE: Slipper Club, 121 W. Main St., Madison
HOW MUCH: $3
WHY: Because I like you
Next Wednesday yours truly is playing a solo gig at the Slipper Club in downtown Madison. That's the old Rainbow Room, site of many of my past glories. (No, not that kind of glory.)
I do believe it's my first billed solo show! If you know what I mean. There'll be two sets of country music old and new, original and unoriginal.
The lowdown:
WHEN: Wednesday, Apr. 28, 10:00 p.m.
WHERE: Slipper Club, 121 W. Main St., Madison
HOW MUCH: $3
WHY: Because I like you
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Cash back
After four months, during which I made several phone calls and wrote one nasty email, I finally got a $50 rebate check for the external hard drive I bought last year. The check was two months late, and I can say with near certainty that I had not followed up repeatedly, I never would have gotten the money.
So is this rebate business a scam, or what? The rebates let retailers advertise really attractive prices and gamble that consumers won't be patient, persistent, or (in my case) mule-headed enough to see the rebate process through. I definitely felt silly grubbing for fifty bucks, but my Scots nature triumphed in the end.
Now, what shall I spend the $50 on? Oh yes, rent and food.
After four months, during which I made several phone calls and wrote one nasty email, I finally got a $50 rebate check for the external hard drive I bought last year. The check was two months late, and I can say with near certainty that I had not followed up repeatedly, I never would have gotten the money.
So is this rebate business a scam, or what? The rebates let retailers advertise really attractive prices and gamble that consumers won't be patient, persistent, or (in my case) mule-headed enough to see the rebate process through. I definitely felt silly grubbing for fifty bucks, but my Scots nature triumphed in the end.
Now, what shall I spend the $50 on? Oh yes, rent and food.
Thursday, April 15, 2004
"We've got the chamber orchestra"
Aeons ago I wrote a blog entry on song parody, a genre I was thinking about apropos of a television special I'd watched starring Mark Russell, writer nonpareil of really terrible song parodies.
While driving this weekend I was excited to hear a superb song parody on "A Prairie Home Companion." The song was a promotional jingle for the city of St. Paul, Minnesota, and it was set, improbably enough, to the tune of Outkast's "Hey Ya!"--the sort of bizarre juxtaposition that represents song parody at its best. I wonder if Garrison Keillor has heard the Outkast song; this number seems like something someone in the band must have cooked up.
To hear for yourself, go to this web page, scroll down to Segment 6 and launch the RealAudio file, and then skip ahead to about 21:05.
Aeons ago I wrote a blog entry on song parody, a genre I was thinking about apropos of a television special I'd watched starring Mark Russell, writer nonpareil of really terrible song parodies.
While driving this weekend I was excited to hear a superb song parody on "A Prairie Home Companion." The song was a promotional jingle for the city of St. Paul, Minnesota, and it was set, improbably enough, to the tune of Outkast's "Hey Ya!"--the sort of bizarre juxtaposition that represents song parody at its best. I wonder if Garrison Keillor has heard the Outkast song; this number seems like something someone in the band must have cooked up.
To hear for yourself, go to this web page, scroll down to Segment 6 and launch the RealAudio file, and then skip ahead to about 21:05.
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
Chicago eats
This food article by the New York Times' R.W. Apple brought back pleasant memories of the decade I lived in Chicago and the junk food I ate there. When I return to the Windy City--and that's never as often as I'd like--the chow I nostalgically seek out usually is just the sort of inexpensive, heart-attack-inducing, often superbly crafted food about which Apple rhapsodizes.
I confess I never really developed a taste for hot dogs, Chicago-condimented or otherwise, but I do love me a good Polish, and I can confirm that the Polish sausage Apple ate at the Maxwell St. stand is indeed the best of its kind. There actually are two Polish stands on the corner he's talking about, one next door to the other. Near as I can tell, they're equally good. For a little variety, may I suggest the pork chop sandwich.
Apple also is right to single out Al's for terrific Italian beef in the city, though as a former South Sider I disdain the River North outlet he writes about in favor of the Little Italy location on Taylor St., especially because after you've devoured a greasy beef you can cleanse your palate with a refreshing Italian ice from the stand across the street.
But even better Italian beefs are to be had at Johnny's in Melrose Park, a suburb just west of Chicago. The line moves fast, so be prepared to place your order like this: "Beef juicy hot." (Translated: "One Italian beef sandwich, my good man, au jus and with spicy giardiniera [a relish of carrots, peppers, onions, celery, etc.].")
This food article by the New York Times' R.W. Apple brought back pleasant memories of the decade I lived in Chicago and the junk food I ate there. When I return to the Windy City--and that's never as often as I'd like--the chow I nostalgically seek out usually is just the sort of inexpensive, heart-attack-inducing, often superbly crafted food about which Apple rhapsodizes.
I confess I never really developed a taste for hot dogs, Chicago-condimented or otherwise, but I do love me a good Polish, and I can confirm that the Polish sausage Apple ate at the Maxwell St. stand is indeed the best of its kind. There actually are two Polish stands on the corner he's talking about, one next door to the other. Near as I can tell, they're equally good. For a little variety, may I suggest the pork chop sandwich.
Apple also is right to single out Al's for terrific Italian beef in the city, though as a former South Sider I disdain the River North outlet he writes about in favor of the Little Italy location on Taylor St., especially because after you've devoured a greasy beef you can cleanse your palate with a refreshing Italian ice from the stand across the street.
But even better Italian beefs are to be had at Johnny's in Melrose Park, a suburb just west of Chicago. The line moves fast, so be prepared to place your order like this: "Beef juicy hot." (Translated: "One Italian beef sandwich, my good man, au jus and with spicy giardiniera [a relish of carrots, peppers, onions, celery, etc.].")
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