Meteorologically, we kept it real, folks

because music festivals with good weather are for pussies.

Once again, Shugs and I brought with us to the festival the worst weather possible.

People were all “OMGWTF the hurricane is coming!” In reality, hurricane Rita would have brought sweet relief, but decided to pass us by. Tease. Instead of her promised thunderstorms, we sat in 106 degree heat and 7 thousand percent humidity.

By day it was way too hot and way too humid. Austin felt like Phoenix and Atlanta’s bastard lovechild. By night it was a scene out of thunderdome. Dust flying everywhere, people had odd bits of clothing tied around them to brave the elements- then there were the dudes in hockey masks, driving around in dune buggies firing shotguns in the air and stealing tankers of gasoline. And um, they sounded Australian.

It felt like basic training for hell.

I have now named Shugs and myself, “The Concert Goers of The Apocalypse.”

Next year I think we’ll bring the pox.

BUT… The music… was incredible.

Highlights:
Kasabian
Spoon
Steve Earle
Death Cab For Cutie
Rilo Kiley
Wilco
Thievery Corporation

Surprises:
Bloc Party
The Walkmen
The Decemberists
Doves

The after parties (smaller shows, intimate venues) actually make the festival, though. Thursday we saw Thievery Corp at Stubbs BarBQ. Awesome venue. Feels like a college party.

After the show we were getting tacos when a girl in front of us drunkenly blurted out “OMG that’s the ugliest shirt I’ve ever seen.”

Incidentally, I was wearing Heidi’s least favorite shirt- it has pineapples on it. That’s as much as you need to know.

I’d like to tell you that I immediately said “that’s funny, because you’re the prettiest dude I’ve seen.” and then got the crap kicked out of me by her boyfriend.

But it didn’t occur to me for a couple minutes- after I had wasted my retort on something forgettable and tame. While beer tends to increase the courage, it also slows the wit.

Friday we managed to weasel into the sold out Walkmen show at this little club called Parish. Before the show I was lukewarm on the Walkmen- I became a true believer. They brought it- even a bit edgier then their recorded stuff, and much edgier than their festival set. In their encore they started taking requests and belted out (I’m Not Your) Stepping Stone. I seriously contemplated moving to Austin.

Saturday I went back to Stubbs to see Wilco. a-maze-ZING. It’s taken me a while to warm up to wilco, being a devout Jay Farrar/Son Volt fan- gotta back up my boy. After Friday I decided Jay can fight his own battles. Wilco owned Stubbs and ACL.

Austin itself has a great scene. As far as the people the food and the businesses are concerned I can’t think of a better place to host ACL and SXSW.

But the weather I could do without. Walking around with a constant wedgie that feels like a soaked warm washcloth can tend to put a bit of a damper on things.

But of course next year I’m sure I’ll do it again.

Feeling left out of all the fun of the last hurricane, I’m headed to Texas for 4 days of alt-country PBS goodness at the Austin City Limits festival with my pal Shugs. For 3 days we’ll be in an ocean of beer, birkenstocks and trucker hats.

Your jealousy is ugly. Put it away.

I’m currently waiting out a layover in phoenix. I’m tempted to do another rant about how much I hate this place but i’m afraid i’ll end up with an entire city emailing me- I’ve heard their fans are insane.

Little travel tip. Don’t fly right afer cramming an entire season of Lost into 3 days. It taints the experience.

Even simple pleasures, like reading the skymall, or snorting heroin from a little baggy in the restroom have taken on this really creepy feeling.

Plus that much TV can makes my eyeballs feel like they just got back from spring break- all sunburned and sandy & sore from lifting their shirts for all those GGW videos. My eyeballs are such whores.

Three years ago to the minute Heidi and I got married.

Just a second ago she called. I picked up the phone and all she said was, “I do.”

Melt.

I have such a better life than I deserve. Sorry, that’s just the way it is.

So I’m at a conference. An accounting conference. In hell. I’m sitting in a presentation on effective proposal programs.

Please allow me to add a touch or foreshadowing. “To know ABOUT the giggle loop is to be PART of the giggle loop.” If you don’t understand, watch more BBC.

If you’re anything close to a regular reader of my blog, you have a sense for my humor. It appeals to a certain level of humanity. A very low level. Perhaps then you can understand why this particular presentation was troubled from its inception.

Early on, the presenter stated some phrase which my infantile mind quickly raced to twist to a sexual nature. I immediately turned to the fellow on my right and muttered, “I didn’t know it was going to be one of those presentations. He chuckled.

Then things got a tad bizzare. Here’s a smattering of the topics that would come next:

• Lead Elongation

• Multiple Touchpoints
• Drilling Your Pipeline
• Being Careful Not To Cut Off Your Options
• Hierarchy of leads referred to as graprefruits and mellons

It seemed that the seed I had planted in our minds had grown to a horrfying beanstalk. We could hardly contain it.

Then she reached a whole nother level with an entire section on “Penetration Strategies.” Yes. I know. She then moved on to

• Multiple Positions

• Contacts who are warm and fuzzy
• Points you could dip in oil (totally confused there)
• Peanuts (you have to hear her pronounce it)

I was already fighting an anneurism, but I burst into tears when she mentioned “Wiggle Room.” A man can only take so much.

That’s when she noticed me. It’s also when she stopped her presentation to ask what was wrong. I couldn’t take it. In a room full of marketing professionals and accountants I completely lost it, but managed to spit out, “It’s just… that we find your presentation… a tad… suggestive.”

She turned to the screen where her penetration strategies were laid out. “Oh. I see.” The place actually responded with laughter. Somehow in 30 seconds I had managed to bring the maturity level of the room to something around 6th grade.

Is there anywhere that I’m a good influence?

So I’m back from the dead (chillin’ at the beaches down at Club Med.)

Actually I was all tip top by Friday. Went out for sushi and everything. Sorry to all the people who canceled their Memorial day weekend plans in order to attend the all-night vigils on my honor- I didn’t even want to look at a computer after spending a week and a half wanting to die in front of it.

I don’t feel an obligation to constantly update my blog. It’s a hobby for vain people, not a paying gig.

Anyway, the backstory is a hoot. As it turned out, the fever, chills and rash that my Dr. kept telling me was the natural progression of my ills- they were all caused by my antibiotics. Another Dr. told me to quit taking them & immediately I got better. Oh, the laughs I had over that one. I think I laughed so hard I cried. More of a sobbing really.

So after lobbing a few maltov coctails over my (former) Doctor’s porch, I headed down the to my favorite all-you-can-eat sushi place to throw down a little fish & sake discipline on the old gut. He took it like a champ. That’s my boy.

BarBQ-ed up near Lake Tahoe with Heidi’s family. That was great.

Saw Star Wars yesterday. For the most part it was entertaining. Even with the low standards I have for George Lucas, I still had a bit of trouble with the flimsy excuse that idiot skywalker had for turning to the dark side so quickly. I didn’t even know they had rock paper scissors a long time ago in a galaxy far far away.

Can I take a minute to say that Deadwood will be considered by future generations our Shakespeare? I’m convinced.

In honor of Memorial Day we watched South Korea’s Saving Private Ryan, Brotherhood of War. It was the most moving thing I’ve seen in a while. If you’re on Netflix, do yourself a favor and check it out. Korea is a major up-n-comer.

Also, the rest of you should pretty much pack it in and forget ever having any more Kids. Paige has reached a point of cuteness that’s lethal. Six people died looking directly at her this weekend when we took her out. One was in critical condition with something called “My kid is so frickin cute his eyes exploded” or something. Just before he slipped into a coma he said it was worth it.