Jessica posted this Cap'n Jazz video and boy, did it make me happy. I know that musicians grow and experiment over time, but Cap'n Jazz remains my favorite Kinsellan band. I love how jerky Tim is here, and how the crowd and setup reminds me of back-in-the-day shows.
Another BITD find: The Indian Summers play "Angry Son," my favorite of their songs.
It's funny: I used to love, love, love going to shows. It was my favorite default activity, and it made me feel excited to be alive. I don't know what changed. Maybe it was the shift from house shows to you-need-a-ticket shows, or just having broader musical tastes now, or not wanting to breathe thick smoke. These days I get that happy rock-band feeling by watching The Kids get excited about shows, unless they happen to be Fall Out Boy or Lucky Boys Confusion or any other variety of bad "boy" bands.
Another BITD find: The Indian Summers play "Angry Son," my favorite of their songs.
It's funny: I used to love, love, love going to shows. It was my favorite default activity, and it made me feel excited to be alive. I don't know what changed. Maybe it was the shift from house shows to you-need-a-ticket shows, or just having broader musical tastes now, or not wanting to breathe thick smoke. These days I get that happy rock-band feeling by watching The Kids get excited about shows, unless they happen to be Fall Out Boy or Lucky Boys Confusion or any other variety of bad "boy" bands.
Videos of Milo and Minou are up at Youtube now.
Labels: kitty time is a special time, milo
In October, I will have been writing on the internets for ten years. I think I'll probably officially stop at that point; I just don't have the time or thrust to keep up with this stuff, obviously.
It's funny: I write at work all day, and my little hamster brain feels like it's on a Gravitron at the county fair by the day's end. Sometimes I forget to take a book to read during the commute home, and I "write" stories in my head. But they never seem as good when I write them down. Writing things down reawakens the editor in my head, and I stop myself from spitting out sentences as fast as they come to my mind.
This afternoon, JC and I went to Hyde Park to have gelato with Marc and his special ladyfriend Amy. We tried to go to the Japanese gardens, but some students were filming and it was therefore closed to the rest of us taxpaying citizens. On our way back toward the Museum of Science and Industry, we saw a huge family reunion. Four kids peppering the years between six and nine were sitting on a bench. As we passed by, they called us crackers. "Does anybody even say 'cracker' anymore?" JC later mused. "It's a little outdated."
It's funny: I write at work all day, and my little hamster brain feels like it's on a Gravitron at the county fair by the day's end. Sometimes I forget to take a book to read during the commute home, and I "write" stories in my head. But they never seem as good when I write them down. Writing things down reawakens the editor in my head, and I stop myself from spitting out sentences as fast as they come to my mind.
This afternoon, JC and I went to Hyde Park to have gelato with Marc and his special ladyfriend Amy. We tried to go to the Japanese gardens, but some students were filming and it was therefore closed to the rest of us taxpaying citizens. On our way back toward the Museum of Science and Industry, we saw a huge family reunion. Four kids peppering the years between six and nine were sitting on a bench. As we passed by, they called us crackers. "Does anybody even say 'cracker' anymore?" JC later mused. "It's a little outdated."
