AIN'T MISBEHAVIN' (MOSTLY)

During the better part of the last two weeks, the following things occurred:

- I went on a small-scale tour of California with my band

- We played shows in San Francisco, Modesto, Merced, Hollywood, and Fresno

- I learned that my car's AC should probably get recharged, though honestly nobody needs that in San Francisco

- I discovered that you should always trust Twitter (or Wil Wheaton speaking through Twitter) when it comes to traffic updates
-- Corollary: Also trust Google Maps
-- Further Corollary: Maybe there is something to this whole "Web2.0" thing after all

- I was joyfully reacquainted with the Beatles' early catalog

- I met up with several different groups of my best pals under circumstances most happy
-- And got extraordinarily drunk with some of them
-- And bore witness to the champion drinking status of certain others

- I was reminded that San Diego Comic Con is one of my most favorite, surreal times of year

- I was physically present for the event described here -- in fact, I'm the one he points to in the very last moment of this video
-- Something that has to be mentioned is that I got the sense that Jonathan Frakes is a man who genuinely enjoys injecting moments of unrestrained magic into the lives of people who would just be happy to get a wave and nod from him
-- Also, seriously, Avery Brooks can play the piano, which is not information I knew before

- I introduced myself to Kaki King but did not have the presence of mind to find a place to put the free sandwich I had been given seconds earlier; this resolved itself eventually, but it took some doing

- I ate dinner with one of my all-time favorite authors anywhere ever, his lovely wife, and four other unimpeachably excellent humans

- I slept passed out in motels, on the floors of friends-of-friends, on couches, and on futons with purring cats transmitting bone-knitting healing powers into a body that needed it

- I paused every once in a while during this entire thing to reflect on the utterly sterling quality of the people I have come to know in my life
-- If you saw me this weekend, and you are reading this, do not doubt that I am speaking of you
-- Yes, you

I knew that was going to be long, but there was no way around it. Happy end of July, people. To cap it off, I updated the Dogblog. I don't know if I need to mention it anymore when I do that.

MIDSUMMER MADNESS

Internet, consider this your notice that I may be pretty scarce on you for the next week and a half. Be excellent to each other. I will return.

LIFE/SPICE RATIO REMAINS HIGH

Here's something you should try doing: refer to the act of going to the bathroom as "fulfilling the prophecy." For instance, if at a fancy dinner with important business clients, stand up and intone to your table companions, "Excuse me. I must fulfill the prophecy. I shall return." This will lend the appropriate gravitas to any social situation you may encounter.

TODAY'S IMPORTANT FACTS

1. I am actually supremely glad they altered Wanted for the movie, because the comic would have made absolutely no sense in cinematic form. Also, props abounding for being able to make a single kiss the sexiest thing on any movie screen this year.

2. You have two days before The Definite Articles hit the Rickshaw Stop with the Brass Liberation Orchestra and Mucca Pazza. I have seen the latter live; you do not want to miss them. Or us.

155 Fell St, 94102
Thursday 8pm
$12 (I know, but it's worth it)

We're first to hit the stage, so don't be late. Parking around there shouldn't be too big an issue, either, and it's crazy accessible from BART or MUNI.

3. You are fantastic. Change nothing.

THIS BETTER NOT BE PERMANENT

I got my phone wet this morning, which I'm guessing caused a minor short that made it heat up and dump a whole bunch of battery power. I've opened it up and taken the battery out, and I'm just going to let it calm down (read: dry, hopefully) over the next several hours before I put the battery back in and turn it on. This better not be a permanent thing. I actually like this phone, and would not want to buy another one. Although if I do, it'll just be another copy of this dude, let's be honest.

I am not getting an iPhone. I can't be fussed with switching carriers and working out a whole new plan, not right before leaving on vacation. I choose to wait.

I HAVE A MISSILE!

Two posts to this blog in one day. Can you handle it.

I just wanted to point out this strip as one of the best things I've read all week. It's been open in a browser tab all day just so I can go back and read it again. You're welcome.

THE FLESH IS WEAK

Specifically, the flesh on the tip of my right thumb, which I managed to get cut on the edge of a freshly-opened can of corn. I'm just surprised at how often I seem to use the tip of my thumb for things -- like, for instance, typing. I'm just glad the cut's not on the side of the thumb that I use to hold a violin bow.

I'm going to take the Band-Aid off for a bit and let it breathe. For some reason, keeping it all cooped up and moist seems less than ideal.

INCONSEQUENTIAL VANITY

The thing about owning a bunch of t-shirts from different manufacturers is that they've all got different sleeve lengths. This turns out to produce kind of an inconsistent tan -- this Gama-Go shirt I've got on now, for instance, displays a bit of paleness at the tops of my (manly, awe-inducing) arms. Not only is this completely not important enough to try to fix, how would I even go about doing it? Wear long, girly princess gloves and wander around in the sun for a few hours without a shirt on? Attempt precise application of sunblock and sit inside a tanning booth for exactly 2.495 hours? I've got other things to do, I'm pretty sure.

DELAYED REACTION

Something I remember noticing at least a day or two ago and am only now getting around to commenting on: I heard a car alarm go off and thought to myself "Who still uses those damn things?" Seriously, who does this. Rather than believe it was being actively used for its intended purpose by its buyer, I choose to think that it must've been installed in the car many years ago, and the owner is simply too lazy to have it removed or disarmed or whatever. They don't still make cars with those things built in, right? Where on the face of this planet does that constitute an active deterrent rather than background annoyance?

OVERENTHUSIASM

I may have overdone it on my bike today. If you'd asked me, I would've told you it was maybe half that much distance. I just had a lot of errands I needed to run, I guess.

THIS STILL NEEDS TO HAPPEN

I don't know why I'm not inured to the fact that sometimes when I ride the bus* I'm going to be exposed to a long, boring conversation being held on the phone by some witless blabbermouth with no sense of self-awareness. I'm not talking about a conversation that just goes "Hi, I'm on the bus, just wanted to let you know I'll be ten minutes late. See you" -- I mean the kind of thing that might last for the entire bus ride and is chock-full of information nobody ever wanted to hear.**

The next time this happens, I'm tempted to take out a piece of paper and scribble notes, and hand it to the person at the end of the ride. "Emily should probably break up with Brad. Your roommate (Jordan?) was right to move your easy chair, since it was blocking access to the DVD shelf. The farmer's market on Alemany is usually better than the one in the Ferry Building, but the Ferry Building one has a wider selection of wild mushrooms. You should probably rethink your trip to Paris with Rick -- he sounds like a douchebag."

Those of you following me on twitter, that's the kind of thing whose existence I was wondering about. Not overheardinnewyork or whatever -- those things are actually funny.

* Mostly the Presidio shuttle, which hasn't happened a lot lately since I tend to ride my bike to work on non-band-practice days

** I know I've blogged about this already, but god dammit

WHEN NOTES FAIL, SORT OF

I have a little notebook I keep in my pocket that serves as kind of an externalized memory in a loose GTD sort of system. One type of page that keeps getting consistently filled is the one labeled "ideas," but every once in while I come across something in there that baffles me, even though I wrote it. In this case: "branded wing gloves." What in the noise is that all about.

Oh! I remember: I sometimes like to wear disposable nitrile gloves when I eat wings* to save myself the hassle of having to thoroughly wash my hands. I wondered if restaurants that specialize in wings might want to think about offering these, with their own logos stamped on them for memorabilia purposes.

I've got others, but they'll cost you ten thousand dollars apiece to hear. They're that good.

* There was a box of 'em for cheap at Costco. Also useful for handling raw chicken, cutting up jalapenos, or putting together buttons.

SOMETHING IS GOING ON

I was just going to tell you guys that I updated the Dogblog yesterday, but someone has brought something else to my attention this morning: an inexplicably catchy reggae Radiohead cover album. I normally hate reggae (no offense to the great Caribbean tradition), but the Toots and the Maytals version of "Let Down" is basically party-ready. I don't know either, doggs.