"GOLDEN LIGHTS, DISPLAYING YOUR NAME"

So, I like all sorts of music, and you know, I'm more into the old western swing kind of country (Waylon, Conway and co.) than I am into the pop country, but check this out! When someone is loving what they're playing, it show and that translates into quality music. Yes? Yes. The singer, Andy Childs, (the blond guy with the accent) of this band, Sixwire, is a longtime family friend. Check out their smartass YouTube audition video (complete with cut-away confessionals, they're like the pop-country Spinal Tap!) where they discuss their roles in the band, and still keep straight faces.

Anyway, the clip charmed the Fox network and tonight they'll be on tonight's Next Great American Band. How cool, right? If they make the cut tonight, try to tune in weekly and vote for them. It's nice to see a band not taking themselves super seriously and having a little fun, right? Right! Nice guys like them deserve a break. Yes they do.

So.

Click here for free to donate mammography to women in need.

And, and, and, even though blogger Boobie-thon is over, you can still support those nice folks by picking up some of this fab boutiquage. (Or Boobtique? Har.)

Now.

It's Friday. The Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event is Sunday morning. If I can come to the event on Sunday morning with $2,000, I'll be tickled pink. Can we raise $400 in two days? You betcha! But, I am going to need your help. Click here to donate as much or as little as you can to support the cause. That's $200 today and $200 tomorrow. Easy. Please help me reach this goal by emailing a link to this blog post to any friends and co-workers you can think of who might want to contribute. Who is going to give me that first donation today?

Tell you what, I'll promote anything on this blog that you need promoted by writing all about it and I'll do that for everyone who donates today and tomorrow. Already donated? Hook a sister up with at least one more dollar and I'll write about and link to your band, your independent film, your art show, your design project, your book, your whatever. Deal? Donate more than $50 today or tomorrow, and I'll blog about your project twice, donate more than $100 and Ill blog about your project everyday for a week. A week! Donate more than $200 and I'll blog about your project for a week AND run an interview with your about your project. Hello, I get a lot of traffic on this blog. You might as well use it to your advantage. Ready, set, go! When you donate, I'll get an email with your email address on it. I'll contact you and you can tell me what you want blogged about. Deal? Deal.

"EVERYDAY IS LIKE SUNDAY"

From BBC America's Anglophenia: "U.S. rock band Fate or Trouble has re-imagined Morrissey's Cold War ballad "Everyday Is Like Sunday" as a chirpy, Laguna Beach-ready summer tune. You guessed it: I hate it. Not as offensive as Mark Ronson's vandalism of "Stop Me If You Think That You've Heard This One Before," though."

And, I'm going to have to agree. I'm not a fan if either. Sigh. Poor Morrissey. Everyone wants to sing his songs. I wonder what he thinks about covers? Or, I wonder what any artist thinks about covers for that matter? I mean, I would guess you'd be flattered that someone enjoyed your music enough to want to do a cover of it, but it would be hard to hear something crummy happen.

In other brit-dish, Pete Doherty (his Wikipedia page looks like a rap sheet!) is a complete dick to his cat...?

Speaking of Wikipedia, I hope I get a Wikipedia page one of these days. (Hint, hint, hint...)

"ASSEMBLE THE WAYS"

Hey guys. I have no idea what to say to follow-up that last post.

The rest of my weekend was great. I'll just tell you about that.

Saturday, after I left the Dr., thrilled to bits that I didn't have fucking breast cancer, Leah was good enough to meet up with me, bearing orange juice and Wheat Thins, in case I was woozy. But, I felt okay. Or, the orange juice made me feel okay. Either way, I was solid. We leaned against a bank window for what felt like an hour and stared at passing traffic and didn't say anything for a long time. Then, we talked a little. Then, we walked, found a couple of doughnuts and strong coffees, talked a while about foreign currency we'd each forgotten to exchange, international adventures and life lessons that suck ass to have to learn.

I drove her to her hair salon, thanked her for meeting me (oh man, was I happy to see a familiar face right then) and headed home, tidied my apartment a little, then set out for a great adventure that eventually led me to Pitchfork, which was wicked awesome, low-key and I had such fun just hanging out, watching hipsters follow each other around and shout things like one more metaphor, randomly.


Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of folks in the crowd who knew how to rock smart and look cool at the same time.

Every single thing about Sunday was wonderful. Bliss, even! I slept really fucking late, I lounged, I thought about the day before, did this and that, ordered Thai, then went to meet Irish Ho and her mama at a softball game with a perfect view of the skyline. Loved her moms. Oh my, she was a riot. Perfect fun to end a perfect day.

As for today, work was the name of the game. Work, work, work. Ah, and I did find out that my way foxy BFF, Schwartzy, and I landed on a short list of potential VP running mates (though alas neither of us made the cut)... uh, but, don't overlook that yours truly is also the sidebar model of the week with tinfoil in my hair (super hot, I know) which you'd think would have counted for something and I found a really horribly hilarious fansite for Richie Sambora. And I bought a new sports bra. And talked to Mermaidhead. Not a bad day.

Anyway, I guess that's it. I guess we're caught up. A super thunderstorm is blowing in. I sleep like a mofo when it's thundery, so I'm going to hit the hay. Goodnight, my dears.

"REEL AROUND"

You guys! This is brand-new website it so cool! Pass it on. Booktour.

Who would like to give me a treadmill? No? Fine. Who would like to start a band? No? Fine.

So, Guths, as you might have figured out, are an open-to-possibility family, and as a result, often find ourselves on interesting adventures and pursuits. My parents, par example, are, as we speak, traveling to stay in one of the HGTV Dream Houses for the weekend. How did that happen that they get one of those places to themselves for the weekend? I don't think they are too sure, either. But, there they are, heading right in. So funny. Ma Guth said to me yesterday, I have to go shopping! I can't stay there in my regular clothes! I need to match that place! (Yeah right, like Ma Guth has ever been one to hang around in schmattas.) So, I sort of have this image of them wearing a dinner jacket and a flowy evening gown, respectively, just for cocktail hour. Eh, live it up, I say. Live it up. I have probably only seen them dolled up together maybe a handful of times since disco went by the wayside.

Now, I must put the following Canadian bands on your radar. Find them. Buy their stuff. Colourbook. Cobras Cobras Cobras. Les Autobus. And especially do not miss Wooden Sky. Possibly my new favorite band. (Click on their CBC link and scroll down to play their self-titled song. Ohhhh, I can't get enough of this song.) Wow, Canada really has their musical ducks in a row right now, don't they?

"FIVE SECONDS TO SPARE"

Hi again from the diner. This town has got some really great diners. If you find yourself in these parts, hit Neil's Diner. It. Is. Awesome. Casual as your own kitchen table, low key, public radio, WiFi, and that Neil is a really nice guy who is down with local art and bands. Dig that.

Last night was a fine time, cocktailishy, impromptu arty and such. These dudes were hanging around the record shop yesterday, rocked a while, then split for a show across town. I'm hitting a thrift store today pre-reading, to see what I can find. I have it on decent authority that I'm to head to a thrift store that is "as large as a Walmart". Hmm. Wish me luck with that.

I just saw the Canadian equivalent of The Simpsons Crazy Cat Lady crossing the street.

"AS I LIVE AND BREATHE"

Windows open, heard on street below: "What you need to do, motherfucker, is to err on the side of awesome."

Anyway.

Did anyone else find the Metallica performance at Live Earth really funny? I have no idea why, really, but something about everyone in the audience just sort of standing there, and the band looking a little clean cut while rocking Sad But True just gave me the cringes. Not that Metallica can't be global warming activists, but, you know. Funny, is all.

"STRETCH OUT AND WAIT"

Last year, I made fun little pro-Pride pigtails for myself and met up with folks from my shul. This year, I stayed in bed all day, still with the thrown-out back. Eh well, it was a good day, even if I didn't make rainbow pigtails for myself or, uh, leave the house at all. And, my back is certainly on the mend. Not 100% just yet, but it is certainly getting there.

In other news, there is a really hilarious show on VH1 about the schmaltziest songs ever. It's hilarious. It's been far too long since I've seen an REO Speedwagon video, and I'm here to report that it's even cheesier than I remember. Wow, when was the last time you thought about Anne Murray? Eh? And, look! I had completely blocked out Peter Cetera having a mullet, but it's all back now. Good times. Oh, and the recorder solo in Captain & Tenille's Do That To Me One More Time. Hillllaaaaarious. Hmm, I wonder if Ma Guth still likes Michael Bolton? She hasn't mentioned him in, you know, well over a decade, so I can only assume she's let that one go.

Oh, shit, will you look at that. It was all fun and games until they started mentioning Toto. That hit too close to the CD collection.

Ahem.

Also, shutup.

"AS I LIVE WRITE AND BREATHE"

I think it is a safe bet that one of my next manuscripts might be a little wonky when I am writing it to a continuous loop of Pixie's Crackity Jones, Mike Doughty's Rising Sign, Bob Dylan's One More Cup of Coffee, Mountain Goat's Old College Try and The Clash's White Riot. Somehow, that seems like a weird mish-mash to me.

Eh well, we'll see soon enough, eh?

"I WILL SEE YOU"

I had such a great day yesterday!

First, the shul tag sale was huge and fantastic. I dropped a few bucks but left with a ton of fantastic stuff. Vintage clothes, artwork, tons of artwork, did I mention artwork? Oh man, good haul there.

Then, I went solo to the Printers Row Book Fair and it was fine. I say "fine" not "kickass" because I'm afraid that lit festivals I've participated have made me come to expect more sense of community and more interaction from bookish events. Milling around from tent to tent, in my opinion, makes it much harder to mingle very well. But, really, book fairs and lit fests are two different things. Anyway. For what it was, it was great. I talked to a few folks, introduced myself, handed out a few business cards, mentioned the new reading series at The Fixx and ran into a few good friends. I think, also, that since I was there late in the day on the second day, that the people I was trying to schmooze with were sun-dried and tired and ready to go home.

Then, I took the train up to Northcenter and my vegetarian ass went to Ribfest and met up with four fine friends. We ate-- yes, even I found something to eat at there (corn on the cob with chipotle-lime butter from Feed The Beast's booth), then we snuck out and hung around a little on hte back patio of nearby Gannon's Pub (go in and ask the owner about the photograph on the wall of his grandfather sometime), then meandered back to the festival in time for Baby Teeth, which was my entire reason for going to a Ribfest in the first place, really. Great show, too. I bought a cool baby Teeth t-shirt, but in the ado of chatting, the festival closing down, finding the right size shirt and such, we didn't do the money-end of the transaction and I'm a dumbass. I emailed and copped to my absent-mindedness first thing this morning when I realized. I feel like I can't wash it or wear it or anything until they have cash. I'm funny like that.

I still have the loaner phone, as I wait for my new replacement phone to arrive. I got a whole slew of text messages a little after midnight, just as I was drifting off. Oops. Come on, new phone, get here, get here, get here.

"I DON'T MIND IF YOU FORGET ME"

Random curiosities of random rank:

My Dad is home and says he just wants to sleep for two days and will call and tell all after that.

I have cable again.

I'm going first, this morning, to a good old synagogue yard sale (Hello to the grannies donating their designer vintage!), then to the Printers Row Book Fair to say hello to a few folks, then tonight, my vegetarian ass is going to brave Ribfest so that I can see Baby Teeth.



I have a loaner cell phone that is a dinosaur. If I don't respond to your texts or don't answer when you call, I probably have no idea. Or, I have no interest in talking to you. Either way, nothin' personal.

It throws me for a loop when someone completely misreads me.

Remember I decided not to cut my hair until my second novel is out into the world? Well, if I don't hurry, my moppy head will drive me bonkers.

Don't click this link at work! This was sent to me and I don't know what to think about it.

"ACCEPT YOURSELF"

Last night, I had a dream that I was returning to work at a mountain resort hotel that I had, apparently, worked in a couple of years ago. I came back as a manager of some kind, but was relying of old employees (who I was now supervising) to show me some ropes again.

Then, I went to the ladies' room and was looking into this huge ornate mirror and realized I had huge black hairs growing out of my chin before my very eyes, only they were making noise as they grew. I pickup up a tweezer on the vanity counter and plucked them, immediately stopping the noise from each as I pulled it out. Once they were plucked, I could remember everything about the way things were done at this resort and was brimming over with ideas on how to implement progress.

Surely an auspicious dream, no? Surely a dream of action? A call to step it up?

I woke up with my kitty sleeping in a ball on my hip. It is good to be in my apartment with my kitty, that's for sure.

In just a bit, however, I am heading back out. One more trip then I don't travel again until July when I go to Canada. This afternoon, I have a little bit of biznass to attend to in Indianapolis, and to my great delight...



...Morrissey is giving a show in Indianapolis tonight, as well, which I am obviously going to attend. So, I'm doing a little work and then having a little fun. As it should be.