Songs of Woody Guthrie in my head ...

I will give real money to any scientists who can take a sample of Woody Guthrie's DNA and bring him back to life.

And I don't just mean some crazy evil Woody Guthrie or a childlike Woody who dies in 48 hours or melts down into a pink puddle of goo. I mean an honest-to-goodness Woody Guthrie clone with all the memories and talent intact, ready to take on the fascists all over again.

We need him now more than ever.

When you succede, just drop a post here at the blog and we'll set you up with some paypal or something.

Staying Human on Highway 61

Been listening to this No Direction Home album, the soundtrack to that big documentary about Bob Dylan from last year.

Been thinking how we could use a few more musicians like him about now. People who can make sense of all the wars, rumors of wars, hurricanes, big brother spying, graft, corruption and more.

Or at least give us a great soundtrack to listen to while it all collapses down around us.

Gotta give props to Michael Franti. He's got the clear vision, the clever lyrics and the anger -- definitely the anger, just not the widespread popularity. Sometimes I think he's fighting the revolution all by himself. The only time I heard his music outside of my own CD player was on a couple episodes of The Wire. I would tend to be of the opinion that the fan base for The Wire and the fan base for Michael Franti probably overlap quite a bit already.

Never would have even heard of him if it weren't for the misfit radicals of Free Radio Asheville, wherever they are.

From Bob Dylan to Michael Franti. How did I get that?

Anyone out there have other artists who could pump up the volume for the revolution or, alternately, the fall of civilization as we know it?

As you might have guessed, yes, K is out of town again.

Everyone deserves music

I've spent the last few years in a comfortable public radio bubble, so much so that I've even made donations from time to time. Commercial radio's grinding conformity and mediocrity, combined with ever-more-obnoxious ads, drove me into the arms of college radio and NPR long ago.

Without WNCW anymore, it's been hard to find good music since moving to Baltimore. We had high hopes for the kids at WTMD out of Towson. Unfortunately, even though they play the kind of music I want to hear, they usually just play the same few tracks over and over again rather than dig deep into the albums. Tends to get boring, kna'mean?

Honestly, they've gotten a little better about it, but I tend to find myself wandering around the dial anyway.

WXPN? Too far away to get a decent signal most of the time around here, even with their translator in Maryland. Internet radio? Yeah, like I want to sit at the computer all day. Oh, I can get a wireless transmitter? Want to buy that for me for my birthday? Some of us have to work for our money, you know.

So what's the answer? Well, surprisingly, commercial radio.

Not the Clear Channel clones that clog our precious publicly owned airwaves. But the wonderful, if not particularly strong signal-wise, WRNR out of Annapolis.

Many a long and miserable commute has been improved by the diverse universe at that self-described "independent" station. I'll leave the local experts to debate that claim. As far as I'm concerned, I don't care who owns them as long as the format never changes. These guys play a wide and deep range of songs from a lot of sources, even if they still have the same obnoxious commercials. Kind of a public radio/commercial station love child.

Either way, let this be a message to the conglomerates: Good radio can be commercially viable! Stop crapping up our airwaves with the same-old, same-old pop junk!

Of course, now that I've posted this, the big boys are probably salivating at the chance to buy up and destroy yet another great station.

Scattered, smothered, captured

I can understand why some prisoners would escape just to go to Waffle House.

However bad the food is, it's got to be better than what they serve in the prison cafeteria.

Besides, I often find myself with a hankering for some WaHo diesel-fuel coffee and greasy food. Unfortunately, they just don't have stores in Mid-Mary Land. Got to go out to the Mountains or head south if you want some good ol' fashioned diner food served up with a steaming plate of high school and college memories.

Went to to our old WaHo in Salisbury (groceries, not poultry) before Christmas and felt right at home. The diverse crowd, tired waitresses in their ugly uniforms, the coffee, the fry cooks who look like they've been awake since Carter was president.

God, but I miss it so.

Super Bowl XLI

So the Panthers lost.

No big deal. Nex season is a clean slate.

Starting February 6, we're all undefeated.

See you at 41.

RE: NFC Championship

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Brother, can you spare a dime?

My sources tell me that the big plywood wall next to the Senator theater in Belvedere Square is concealing the possible future home of the American Dime Museum.

Not exactly what I was expecting, but an interesting twist to the mystery of the plywood wall.

I would have prefered a late-night bakery/cafe for post-movie noshing, but a museum chock-full of weird-ass gewgaws and thingamabobs works for me.

In other news: That other mystery project in B-Square turns out to be a new Tex-Mex restaurant owned by the folks who brought us the yummy deliciousness of Cafe Zen.

What kinda bizzaro world is this where a Taiwanese man opens a Tex-Mex joint? Don't worry, he lived in Texas for 12 years before heading to Charm City.

Of course, you know it will take like 3 months to get a table -- it won't open until April.

Just try finding a parking space then.

No Sunshine

Well, that's it then.

K is off to the NC to visit her grandmother, who is in the hospital. Her plane landed safely at Charlotte-Douglas, and presumably her luggage knows where it is. Hopefully Grammy is going to be okay.

All the time between now and Monday's return stretches before me like the state of Kansas at midnight. Flat, dark and empty. Only this time I have to drive by myself.

Well, at least I have the Little Fluffy One to keep me company. Of course, she might not be in a friendly move when she finds out she's going to the vet when I get home from work tonight. God bless the short memories of dogs.

Don't worry. I'll be okay.

Really.

Go Panthers! World Cup Champions!

Some folks seem surprised to find I am a Panthers fan.

So am I.

I have no idea what's happening on the field most of the time -- as with most sports. But, as long as Jake Delhomme keeps hitting those homeruns and Steve Smith makes a few three-pointers, I'm happy.

I never really cared much when the team came to Charlotte. It was nice to know we had one more thing to check off our World Class City checklist (NFL team, Museums, Skyscrapers, NASCAR Hall of Fame ...) but otherwise, I was underwhelmed.

Until the 2003 Super Bowl.
Playoff fever hits hard, and watching the Panthers beat St. Louis and shut down the fans in Philadelphia pulled me in.

And when I saw how this one team could bring together an entire statefull of people from all walks of life, I realized why so many people buy logos and paint themselves -- not that you'll ever see me in blue and black bodypaint.

And now that I live in a whole new region of the country, where crab is considered a food group and people make fun of Southerners, the Panthers provide a strong connection to my old Carolina home.

So let's hope things go well in Seattle this Sunday, and we'll see y'all in Detroit.

Under the Weather

Rat,

You had to say it, didn't you?

I believe your exact words were: "We're going to pay for all this nice weather."

Even before we got to our car to leave you and your humble abode, full of yummy crepes, harsh winds were a blowin'.

Our little hybrid struggled just to stay on the road all the way from the district to Charm City.

Well, we had a great time anyway. Wish they had trains running between the 2 cities on the weekend besides Amtrak.

How 'bout them cats?

Now that, that was some fine footballing last night, gentlemen.

Fine indeed.

On to Seattle!

Brown Sugar Sedition

It's nice to know the NSA has been hard at work protecting the American people, and the people of Mary Land specifically, from the continuing threat of Quakers -- the people who brought you Oatmeal and the Underground Railroad.

Tip to the folks at Ft. Meade: There seems to be some kind of training camp on Charles St, up near Roland Park. They call it "Friends School."

Friends of who, exactly?

Sounds fishy to me ...

The City (and County) that Bleeds

Baltimore's off to a great start this year with murder and mayhem in high gear. last January was a banner year for the murder trade, and it looks like this year's a good time to buy stock in bullets.

But look out Baltimore City, because the county is getting into the action. Some of the murders reported in the last week took place beyond the city limits, and at or near big malls, no less.

The media around here showed the usual tact and class by training the camera on the shocked and grieving widow of one murder victim in the parking lot where her husband was shot while she screamed inconsolably into her cellphone to a relative.

Good job guys. The Local Pulitzer is in the mail.

D$ moves to DC

In other news, our dear friend and best man D$ has accepted a position at a well-respected, and revenue-generating, mag in NOVA, meaning that he won't have to make the 8-hour drive from Cornelius, NC to the district every few months to get his political fix.

Now he can drive 8 hours from his new apartment in Falls Church to his new office in Falls Church.

Let's get this man a Smartrip card!

The obligatory transit post

The Barcelona metro, which one guidebook described as less extensive than in most European cities, was everywhere we wanted to be.

The stations were relatively easy to navigate, considering we spoke no Catalan and little Spanish. We never waited more than five minutes for a train, if that, and they let you eat in the stations. I had to remind myself that no metro cops were going to whisk me away to a dark, dank cell if I drank some water on the escalator like in DC. (WMATA officials take note: Despite food being allowed on trains and in stations, the Barcelona metro was just as clean as yours. So maybe you should tell metro cops to stop harassing thirsty tourists and hungry federal judges and start looking out for terrorists and pickpockets.)

On the other hand, the stations were not handicapped-accessible by any stretch of the imagination (not a problem for us, but still), and transferring lines usually meant walking a full city block underground.

Overall: Extensive and convenient, easier to find than the Boston T, but not as easy to transfer as DC.

Feliz Ano

So much for updates on location.

After what can truly be called a whirlwind tour of Barcelona, there simply wasn't any time to hit the blogspot. It didn't help that our little internet cafe in the Ribera was closed on New Year's Eve. Folks down there take their vacation time seriously.

If ever you should go, here are a few observations and recommendations, in no particular order:

Germans are everywhere. Hiking through national parks in the states isn't their only pastime. They love Barcelona, and staying up all night, like our neighbors in our hotel. Thin walls = impromptu German lesson.

Gaudi invented architecture. Without him, we'd all be living in mud huts. Or at least that's the impression you'd get from the audio tours of his many buildings. Amazing creations, all of them, especially the fantasy land of Park Guell, but the breathless commentary ("You are about to enter the most amazing laundry room you've ever seen") gets a little old.

Barcelonans(?) are incredibly friendly and willing to muddle through a conversation or financial transaction with you in your broken Spanish.

GPS: get yours today. Although the clean, efficient grid of the Eixample(the modern extension of the city) was easy to navigate, the maze of the barri gotic had us ducking into stores and cafes more than once to find ourselves on the map.

Great views of the city: La Sagrada Familia, Park Guell, Monjuic.

La Flauta Magica: The best vegetarian-friendly restaurant in the entire city. Pablo, the owner, was incredibly friendly and helpful, the food was fantastic, the atmosphere was distinct and the Bob Dylan album playing in the background was a nice touch.

Other places to eat: Origen 99.9 had a nice little selection of vegetarian Catalan dishes. Not a lot to choose from, but thoroughly enjoyable. The desserts were excellent, and the nifty little menus walk you through in four languages. Sabor Cafe in La Ribera had some of the best coffee I have ever had in my life, and the Spanish Omelets made every morning perfect. Kendra enjoyed their thick hot chocolate. The owner apparently though she was from Portugal after looking at her ID, but the language barrier means we'll never know why. Maybe her surname is well-known there.

If you like cheap, good beer, reach for the star: Estrella Damm. As ubiquitous in Barcelona as Natty Boh is in Baltimore, but many times better. Ask for una cerveza in most bars or cafes in Barcelona, and you'll probably end up with a glass of this. As the waiter in Tomate said: "Es barata, pero buena."

Tomate: I hate to say it, since the waiter was so nice, but I wouldn't recommend this place. We got a great Asheville vibe when the waiter took the menu board inside for us to look at after we sat down, and everything seemed fine until I heard the microwave running shortly after we placed our order. Kendra confirmed with a quick glance behind the partition that the kitchen, as such, consisted of a microwave. To be honest, the food wasn't bad for something nuked. Certainly much better than the airplane food, but, I mean.

Cacao Sampaka: The best hot chocolate I ever expect to have for the rest of my life. I could say more, but why?

A word of advice: If you see something you think you'd like to buy, especially in the Barri Gotic, just go ahead and buy it. Chances are, you'll never find the store again, or it will be closed by the time you do. A lot of neat little souvenirs will never make it to our walls and shelves because of this.

Conspicuous Consumption: I always thought Americans loved shopping and consuming mass quantities. That was before stepping into El Corte Ingles, the biggest department store and monument to consumption I have ever seen. Macy's in Herald Square the Saturday before Christmas is empty compared to this overcrowded monstrosity. On the other hand, folks in Barcelona know how to dress, so at least we didn't see a lot of bellies hanging out under NASCAR T-shirts.

The fashion gap: American children, beware! Europe has advanced far beyond us in terms of baby and children's wear. No plastic bibs or goofy T-shirts with cute animals on these tikes. We must begin an immediate Fashion Upgrade across America!

And, that's it for now. This post is already way too long.