Spitball Army

The Richard M. Scrushy Memorial Utility Box
Birmingham, Alabama
(photo: spitballarmy.com)
Coming soon: the Larry Langford Honorary Sewer Drain and the Dr. Jimmy Blake Valet Parking Keybox.

The following story suggests the main reason that I love my iPod – that loveable little contraption of fortuitous circumstance, as you shall shortly see.

I own a music retail store.  It is the Christmas season, and it is b-u-s-y.  The two of us working the store get pretty worn out by the end of one of these long days, and today was one of the longest.  This evening, after finally locking the doors, we were cleaning up with the store iPod playing in shuffle mode (yes, we use an mp3 player at a CD store…what of it?!  23,191 songs, by the way), when this came on:
[audio:Beatles___Crinsk_Dee_Night.mp3]
“Crinsk Dee Night” from The Beatles’ Live At The BBC
It was immediately followed by this:
[audio:Rolling_Stones___Tumbling_Dice.mp3]
We laughed our asses off, as only two music geeks can.  What a great moment.

Incidentally, the moment where Ringo says “I like grapes” set off a memory trigger to this moment in the film Charlie and the Chocolate Factory:

The little unexpected surprises in life are indeed the best.

I have a friend who claims to not respond to e-mails, preferring to get letters or notes in the mail.  Because I have neither e-mailed or hand-written a letter to him, I do not know if he keeps to this personal rule, but a different friend from another state claims to have received two replies – through the mail – to two handwritten letters that she sent him through the Post.

His reasons for preferring postal letters to e-mails is simple and hard to argue with: letters sent through the mail, whether hand-written or typewritten, reflect a thoughtful process of action that e-mails – by their absolute ease of creation – do not represent.  To send someone an e-mail, you need do little more than power up the computer, call up the e-mail template (already prepared for you), fire off a few lines of abbreviated text…and, voila, U R done!  A traditional letter, especially when it is hand-written, requires setting aside some time, choosing the appropriate paper or card, making uncorrectable mistakes of spelling or grammar – in many ways it mimics what you might say to a person in conversation.  In its mixture of spontaneity and character, it more closely approximates the personality of the author than the hastily-dispatched e-mail bulletin.

In the centuries before our current computer age, letter-writing was one of the primary ways that people chose to communicate with one another – before every home had a telephone, it was the way – and letters could contain earth-shattering news, descriptions of a journey, professions of love, or the mundane details of one’s daily routine.  Or, a letter could be a parry in a jousting match, as in this colorfully written note from Noel Coward to Alexander Woollcott (taken from The Letters of Noel Coward):

August [?] 1934

Dear Mr. Woollcott,

I have undergone a serious operation and have been very seriously ill and I feel that I am impelled to inform you that your book, When Rome Something or Other has been largely instrumental in seducing me back to life from the valley of the shadow. I was lent this volume by the Earl Amherst, an insignificant blond of my acquaintance, and was grieved to note on the fly leaf an inscription from you. This forced me to two reluctant conclusions.

(A) That you are a crawling mean old snob obviously intent upon ingratiating yourself with titled people and callously disregarding your friends of the gutter who are naturally better equipped to understand and appreciate your work, and (B) – exactly the same as (A).

Don’t please imagine that I am angry or that I mind being neglected. I am only the teeniest bit hurt. I suggest that you remedy this unfortunate error in judgement by sending me a copy immediately, you saucy old sod.

Love and kisses, darling Acky Weesa.
Noelie Poelie

P.S. I noticed with delight that several of the pages were uncut.
P.P.S. I did not cut them.

What a great letter!  Ignore the fact that Coward was a sophisticate, wit and a renowned master of the English language, and this is a terrific note by any measure: it is funny, angry and nasty, yet also warm and affectionate, and it doesn’t feel like it was composed.  It is highly personal.  Most likely, it sparked an immediate response from Woollcott, as it probably would have from anyone.  I don’t remember the last time I received a letter from someone that fired up that sort of response in me, or the last time that I received a letter at all.  Not that I’m much of a letter-writer myself.

Thinking of that fact about a month ago, I decided to impose a minor change in my life by setting aside fifteen to twenty minutes in the morning to write one note, at the very least, to one person.  During that first week, I wrote three notes by hand, and mailed them using postage from my big box of old colorful stamps.  Imagine my surprise when, a week later, I had received responses to all of them: all e-mails, plus one phone call!  Even though none of the recipients of my letters actually wrote letters back to me, the feeling upon getting a response from them was exciting and warming, and they all took the time to mention what a treat it was to get a written note in the mail.

Well, predictably, I haven’t written any more letters since that week, not even any Christmas cards.  But the enjoyment of writing those three letters is still fresh in my mind, along with the thrill of the responses.  And, even though it is not yet the New Year, I resolve to put pen to paper again soon, and mail it – or, rather – them!

Amazing what slo-mo can do. I would love to see somebody do this with a clip from Hardball with Chris Matthews.

So, strangely, thank God for the current writers’ strike, or else the talk shows – Craig Ferguson, here – wouldn’t be running constant repeats, and I probably never would have seen this 2006 clip, which aired on his TV show again tonight. There’s just about nothing better to get one ready for sleep than a hearty, gut-busting laugh.

Chevron Station, Crestwood Blvd., Birmingham, Alabama
(photo: spitballarmy.com)

Either the cheapest or the most expensive gasoline on the planet!

I can’t determine if the Bob Dylan film collage I’m Not There is coming to my home town of Birmingham, Alabama any time in the near future, so I suppose the Dewey Cox movie will have to do for now. Did I say how rabidly anxious I am to see I’m Not There? I am. Anxious. And rabidly so.  I have heard that it is booked and will be playing soon at the Capri Theatre in Montgomery but, hey, we’re the biggest city in the state…can’t we get this movie here first (or at least at the same time)?  Sheesh.

Yep.  Reefer Madness meets every self-destructive rock & roll cliche that you’ve ever seen (the bad-influence fellow band member, the seductive backstage indoctrination by a “groupie” – this movie apparently piles ’em on with abandon)!  I was tipped off to this by a friend in the blogosphere.

Did I say how eagerly I am looking forward to seeing I’m Not There? The soundtrack is pretty rad, too.
[audio:Sonic_Youth___Im_Not_There.mp3]
Sonic Youth performing “I’m Not There” from the I’m Not There soundtrack
[audio:Mark_Lanegan___Man_in_the_Long_Black_Coat.mp3]
Mark Lanegan’s version of “Man In The Long Black Coat” from the I’m Not There soundtrack
Can’t wait, can’t wait, can’t wait. “Somebody is out there beating on a dead horse.”  And I think that somebody is me.

Singer/songwriter Dan Fogelberg, who epitomized the California soft-rock sound of the 1970s and early ’80s, died yesterday at the young age of 56 after a confrontation with prostate cancer.  Fogelberg, who was ridiculously successful during a nearly twenty-year period when his hyper-romantic ballads were in constant rotation on radio stations throughout the nation (of both pop and country formats), was frequently derided for being either (a) sappy, (b) wimpy, or (c) sappy and wimpy.

But Fogelberg’s early music was frequently groundbreaking, marrying the confessional lyric qualities shared with fellow SoCal troubadours such as Jackson Browne and James Taylor to sweeping and ambitious classically-styled arrangements.  Case in point: his 1977 album Nether Lands, with its dreamlike storyline and lush soundscapes.

And for those of us who grew up during that time, and were still too young, innocent or naive to have been into Hendrix, Joplin or Zappa, these songs provided a perfect outlet through which to express ourselves.  I received a vinyl copy of Nether Lands from a female friend in high school (the same friend who received a bright red Star Wars t-shirt from me – we saw the movie together, so give me a break!), the same friend who also gave me an LP of Bread’s On The Waters, which I also hold dear.  But Nether Lands always seemed to be the greater emotional statement, proven by the fact that I can still conjure its melodies and the relative emotions in my head – and heart – on demand.

[audio:Dan_Fogelberg___Nether_Lands.mp3]
Thank you, Dan Fogelberg.

A =

Analysts expressed surprise at the enduring strength of online spending, the growth of which was expected to begin tapering off after years of steep increases.

B =

Mr. [John D.] Morris [senior retail analyst at Wachovia Securities] said the problem was compounded by lackluster merchandise in the mall. Little has stood out so far this season, with chains relying heavily, for example, on that winter staple, the chunky sweater.

“There is a lot of sameness” in stores, Mr. Morris said.

As we watch the steady march to the internet marketplace erode the quality and character of the local retail landscape, please don’t say you hadn’t been warned.

Read the complete article here.

The last two months have been barren of much new and exciting music, unless your idea of new and exciting music includes the kind of ultra-commercial product that tends to win Grammy Awards these days.  There seems to be plenty of that – no, thank you.  What I’m hungry for is music with ideas.  Imagine my happy surprise, then, to find out that today heralds the release of a brand new album from musician/producer Daniel Lanois.

Lanois has produced several landmark albums by other artists – prominent among them, U2’s The Joshua Tree, which received a lavish 20th anniversary re-issuing earlier this month – possibly because he can relate to their work with the ear and empathic sensibility of a fellow musician.  Emmylou Harris’ Wrecking Ball and the Neville Brothers’ Yellow Moon also bear the distinctive collaborative fingerprints of Lanois the producer.

While I am not as familiar with Lanois’ earlier output as a solo artist, his 2003 release, Shine, continues to be a constant go-to CD for me – I love its melodies and, above all, its shimmering texture.
[audio:Daniel_Lanois___Sometimes.mp3]
“Sometimes” from Daniel Lanois’ Shine

In March of 2008, Daniel Lanois will release Here Is What Is on his own label imprint, Red Floor Records, on both CD and DVD.  The CD is the soundtrack to a documentary film about a year in his life; the DVD, obviously, is that film.  The impatient, among whom I count myself, can download the CD content beginning TODAY via Lanois’ own website, in either high-quality wav format or mp3 format, both DRM-free.  Lanois’ musical partners in this venture include drummer and member of Joshua Redman’s Elastic Band Brian Blade, and keyboardist Garth Hudson of The Band.

This could be really good.

To stream two tracks from the new album in their entirety, go here.  To read what Pitchfork has to say about the release, go here.  Go, go, go!

(photo: spitballarmy.com)

…because of all the money I’ve saved from handwriting my signs.