Dear Regina

One of my new faves, Andrew Bird, is coming to your town to make sweet, sweet love to you via musical entropy. I have no idea what I'm saying. At any rate, he is going to something called the Regina Folk Festival. Now, my feed reader for Andrew Bird is a constant disappointment as it never says CLEVELAND. For Lincoln's father's sake couldn't we get a band I like to come here, posthaste (ok, New Pornographers are, but somebody else). Hell - I'd even take the Happy Monster Band appearing in a drunken hallucination. So, I do not trust it and I am suspicious when it says a pass for said folk fest is 89 dollars . . . ? (. . . ? ='s this is a fact that I refuse to believe is true). Maybe with your 90 large you get a haircut from Andrew Bird. I don't know. Sorry I can't help.

I have been bad about writing. I'm not sure why. I still mentally construct posts, but then I don't write them. Oh, I have constructed a more solid back-up strategy, the finishing touches of which I have been applying. And that has required some time at the old terminal here. I am now secure-shelling into my parent's computer and storing things there. They have no idea! I swear, if any of you mad math geniuses try to hack into my parents' computer, I won't be pleased (*cough* Janny *uncough*). Anyway, I think I might add some Amazon s3 storage for most-critical data and call it a strategy. You're welcome.

i thought everyone knew

Being drunk is the gateway to liking the taste of alcohol. If it's the other way around, that's when you run the risk of having a real problem.

overheard . . .

As I moshanced all alone to “Where is My Mind?” in a crowded bar:

theMomica: You’re doing it. You’re being “that guy.”
me: Better than being married to him.

The Big 0-1

Happy Birthday to my baby boy Lincoln. He is 1 today (provided I get this in before midnight).

The first thing you did when you were born was make me cry. So far, off to a bad start. But, it's been a lot of fun since then and here's to 100 more of the same.

Love,
Dad

Blogger's going to be around forever, right?

if faces could talk*

Silent movies can be difficult to watch. They don't have enough fps; they can be kind of silly and some random 2 people will fall in love within 8 seconds of meeting. Over time, you're expectations morph to accommodate the nuances.

That said I love to watch the actors' !!!!!*F*A*C*E*S*!!!!! They sometimes make these HUGE expressions in the comforting knowledge that even those kids in the cheap seats will be able to discern the emotion. Of course, they are on camera. The effort is lost. But hey, I still appreciate it. But not as much as I appreciate the first director who said, "Hey. You can stop doing that with your face."

* Dick Enberg said this on a football telecast once. It was the end of the game and (I think) the Denver Broncos were about to suffer a crushing defeat (?). They showed a lineman on the sideline sporting frowny face and Dick says, “If faces could talk.” Now, I don’t know about you, but my face can talk – especially the mouth part of my face. The rest of my face says, “HANDSOME!” I think he meant to say something like, “If these faces were micced and were talking right now . . .”? I’m not sure. He might have had early onset of senility. (This was before he was old enough to legitimately be saying that kind of stuff.)