b e e f e n c h i l a d a d o t c o m

Getting into Atlanta. If I ever have to do this trek again (which I probably won't), I am driving.

Flew into Nashville yesterday to attend a deposition scheduled for this morning. Of course, my flight was delayed.

Spent a total of 90 minutes at the actual deposition, then soent a few hours in Downtown Nashville with another lawyer in the case, sampling local cuisine (tasty ribs they have there) and visiting local points of interest (record stores). Felt morally obligated (as in: I would probably get my ass kicked if I asked for another genre) to buy some country music, and scored an import (from Germany, no less) CD compilation of Kinky Friedman.

I am now in my thir hour of being stuck in the Nashville Airport. Apparently, they forgot to put oxygen tanks in the plane. Mighty confidence-inspiring, that. Am sufficiently bored to be posting from my BlackBerry.

On a lighter note, I am now a convert of Hertz's rental car GPS system. Check it out if stuck in the deep South.

After having missed them on their last three tours, I ditched out to Portland to see Nomeansno the night before my wedding anniversary (and I haven't even gotten slaped with a divorce complaint....yet). Anyhow, I got to see Pusbag and Bo Custer, and also got to have a few with Remo W., whom I have not seen in fifteen years

But most importantly, I got to see three elderly Canadians play blistering hardcore for two and a half hours straight. Before the show, I ran into two friendly young drunks who would not get it through their heads that I was not, in fact, Canadian. But, as I was feeling magnanimous, I finally said "OK, you got me. You figured that oot in aboot no time flat, eh?" as they squealed and said "we knew it!"

And, I almost wound up beating the snot out of the annoying stagediver what kept kicking people in the head. Plus, people dug my Charlestown Chiefs jersey. A fine night!

Here's me, with my new bestest friend in the whole world - Tom Holliston of Nomeansno.


Rob and John Wright, beating the hell out of their respective instruments. Rob was freakin' unholy on bass live.



When I got back to Vegas, the boy decided that he wanted to go to a show, too...and commandeered Daddy's steel-toes. This afternoon, he suddenly decided he wanted to dance, and started pogoing until I joined in. The wife told me "all the other little kids in daycare try to dance, and he just jumps straight up and down like that." I have to admit...I got all misty-eyed.


Last weekend in Portland watching Nomeansno, this upcoming weekend in TN and GA attending depositions. They almost cancel each other out. Almost.