I love this Mountain Goats song, a lot: it’s bittersweet and lonely and pretty all at the same time. I’m not sure where I got this photograph—which is a 1930’s era street scene somewhere in Japan—but it was just sturdy enough to roll through the ol’ typewriter. Yeah, I misspelled Bartles & Jaymes.
I had seven frames of superexpired 600 film left in my “blurry” Polaroid (read: broken) and was going to do shots of a lot of my friends and neighbors. WELL THE CAMERA ATE THEM ALL, except this one, which turned out great, of my good friends (and diehard Saints supporters) Jason and Erin. You can’t see it, but there is a unicorn head next to them.* Okay, you can kind of see it.
They were making me crack up the entire time, mainly because Erin kept putting the unicorn head on her head. It made the past Saturday night a heck of a lot less boring. You can’t see it but Jason is wearing Chris Nolen’s great Che Melton shirt, and Erin’s wearing Wax Trax.
Soundtrack by Skinny Puppy, Spacewolf, and Alice in Chains’ “Right Turn.”
*It’s not a real unicorn head, if you were, like, worried. I don’t think.
Last weekend Gordon & I watched the Breeders’ cover of GBV’s “Shocker in Gloomtown” about a dozen times. For April Fool’s, I rickrolled him saying I had a version of Bobby Pollard and Michael Stipe singing it. SORRY GORDON! Here’s the keen video (with Ohio guest stars peeking in the windows!) and a tasty download.
Download The Breeders – Shocker in Gloomtown (but be aware it’s just a YouTube rip made with Video2mp3).
. . . There were actually two good poems in this week’s New Yorker. I know, April Fool’s, right? The one about Emmett Till’s casket by Cornelius Eady was lovely and sad and real and honest: one line was devastating, possibly the best I have read in months.
I’ve devoured the poem four times already and have ready torn it out to put in my sketchbook. Read it out loud, it’s juicy and bubbly and just good.
A nice beginning to National Poetry Month.