I've been busy busy busy lately doing bicycle advocacy in Dallas. The advocacy group is called Bike Friendly Knox-Henderson and its goals are to improve cycling infrastructure in Uptown and parts of East Dallas, raise awareness of bicycling in the area, and get businesses and neighborhoods to support our endeavors. We've gotten some traction in the community and we're looking forward to improving cycling and transit options for people in our area.

I've also been hard at work building a commuter bike. It started life as an early 80's Raleigh road bike. It will complete its transformation as a one-speed road bike purpose-built to not break down, not be expensive, and be totally fun to ride. Details coming soon...

In other news, I learned how to ski (yay!) and I now wish we had skiing in Texas (boo).

The winter has forced me to take my cycling indoors. This nifty bike trainer has been providing what paltry amount of exercise I am able to wring out of myself in these lazy winter months.

Also amusing is my special concoction of bike trainer equipment. No, not the metal contraption attached to the rear wheel. I'm talking about the ancient and perfectly-sized textbook holding up the front wheel so that it is level with the raised rear wheel. That textbook is none other than my Constitutional Law textbook. I know, I know. Shame on me. It contains our Constitution. Not to mention it was one of my favorite classes in law school. But after many years of sitting unopened on a shelf in my study, it now sits unopened underneath my bicycle wheel. Is that so bad? At least it's serving a purpose now.

Apologies to my Con Law professor. And all Con Law professors out there. Maybe I should have used my Civil Procedure books. Man, that shit was boring.

Unless you've been living under a media rock the past month, you may have heard of the new uber-epic semi-sci-fi extravaganza movie called Avatar. It's from James Cameron, that guy who gave us all kinds of sci-fi and grand-scale saga type movies of the 90s.

I'm here to tell you it's worth your two and a half hours and $15 (if you spring for the IMAX). And spring for the IMAX you should. It's worth every penny. You get the true scale Cameron had in mind for the film and the 3D isn't the kind of 3D that makes you want to throw up, it's a 3D that adds the just enough depth to put you in the scene - not up close, but viewing from a safe distance.

For those who don't care for sci-fi and would rather get a root canal than sit through Star Trek, or even The Matrix, fear not. Avatar actually has a story, and a love plot, and socio-political commentary. It's a blockbuster with brains. An action film with a conscience. If I don't sound like a nerdy movie critic way into cliches to you yet, keep reading.

Even at two and a half hours, the movie does not drag. Pay even the slightest attention and the story will keep you moving. It has momentum. Several story threads progress concurrently, you know, just in case one of them bore you. You've got a love story. You've got a species survival story. You've got a war machine story. You've got an internal conflict story. And so on.

Case in point: my mom, a 59-year-old woman who goes to sci-fi flics with my dad only because he has no one else to take, genuinely liked Avatar. I think that speaks for itself.

Thinking back on 2009, it's hard to pick anything in particular that seemed like a stand-out event. The one thing I know that I should probably change in 2010 is my lack of news-following. Since I don't have cable or satellite or Uverse or whatever the hell other television channel package thing people buy these days, and I don't get the newspaper, and I don't normally like to read news websites (trying to cut down on computer time), I get no news intake. I get my news from people who say, "Did you hear about ________?"

Some notable things in the world of particleman for 2009:
- CK moved to Dallas
- I bought a house
- I turned 30
- I sold my sporty BMW and bought a sporty-ish Mazda hatchback
- I played a lot of shows with my Beatles band
- My Beatles band ended
- I met some awesome people
- I went skiing for the first time ever
- I went on some cool trips with CK
- I saw a lot of great concerts
- I parted ways with my Blackberry and returned to life with a non-email phone

I hope you all have a great 2010. Just for reference, and so you don't start putting too much importance into New Years and the new year, I like to give a little context about this thing called the "year." In America, and a lot of other parts of the world, the year is about to be 2010. Elsewhere, things are different. Time moves the same, but they count it differently. In Israel, it's already 5770. In much of Asia, the year for tracking traditional holidays is 4707. The Hindu Saka year in parts of India is 1931, though apparently the government and much of the population doesn't care. In Muslim nations in the Middle East, the current year is 1431.

So, if you're feeling anxious about this whole New Years thing, don't. A lot of people don't care that it's about to be 2010. They're still working through 1431, or they've already moved on to 4707.

Happy holidays, happy new year, happy December 24 on the Gregorian solar calendar.

The Black Joe Lewis "Tell 'Em What Your Name Is!" cd I got last week is really impressive. You gotta hear this cd. It's like James Brown on crack. If that's possible. They ran the singer's vocals through some kind filter, or engineered them somehow. The vocals sound simultaneously far away and in your face at the same time, and also somewhat distorted. It's a little hard to explain (clearly).

My favorite lyric on the cd is in the song Get Yo Shit. The gist is that the singer is consoling his special lady friend who thinks Joe Lewis doesn't love her. She says he never buys her any presents. His response:

"Yes I did, I bought you a box of chicken but I ate it on the way home." Then she asks if he even knows her name. He says, "Yeah, it's Melissa."

"Naw dumbass, it's Roxanne."

Bummer.

I leave for Argentina with The Evil I (remember him?) in two days. I sent my passport in for renewal with four weeks to spare, and they turned it around in about two and a half weeks, even though the website says it takes four to six weeks. So in case you were wondering, sending your passport in for renewal is a good idea after the summer travel rush but before the holiday travel rush.

Evil I and I plan to do the backpack thing - that is, no suitcases, just a big traveler's backpack. We're also staying in hostels to make sure we give ourselves plenty of opportunity to meet people our age who are traveling. I did the backpacking thing in Europe for a month many years ago and liked it.

I've been reading about the general dress code in Buenos Aires and, so far, I've gathered that BA is quite the fashion-conscious city. The blurbs I'm reading compare it to New York. My general rules when traveling abroad are:

1. No tennis shoes
2. No logo shirts
3. No backpacks
4. No caps
5. No cargo-style zip-off pants that travelers seem to like

Basically, dress the way I do at home. But I would like to have some kind of bag for carrying water, camera, guide book, sunglasses, etc. I'm thinking the best option is one of those shoulder bag things. I have a Timbuk2 messenger bag that has served me very well for 10 years, but it's rastafarian green, yellow, and red colors may attract too much attention, so I may end up getting a simpler day bag of some kind. Then again, wouldn't the rasta bag make me stylish, and therefore I'd fit in? Whatever. I'll figure something out.

Three quick show reviews for you.

Regina Spektor - Nokia Theater in Grand Prairie - 11/12/09

This is my third time seeing Regina, and the first time I heard her new songs in their entirety. I listened to clips on iTunes but hadn't yet heard the full versions. Of the three shows, this was my least favorite. Regina seemed to rush through the songs and hardly said anything more than "Hi" and "Thank you." She's normally much more talkative and engaging. My sister saw Regina in Austin the night before and said Regain did the same thing in Austin. As always, however, she sounded great and the band helped provide additional texture and dynamics to the songs. I'm not that crazy about her new songs, though. I don't exactly know why, but something is missing that was on the previous albums. I'll look forward to her next record. All in all, I can't complain about the show. Any Regina performance is a treat. Her talent and creativity are hard to match and always put a smile on my face. She played plenty of old songs, including many I wouldn't have expected, and some acapella songs as well, one of which I think was entirely about the color of boys' eyes. She also busted out with Ode To Divorce, which I've never seen her do live.

David Garza - Rock House Films - 11/13/09

I haven't seen David Garza in years. I don't remember when the last show was, but it was at least three years ago. Rock House Films is a "studio" in what amounts to a large-ish living room in someone's condo in Uptown Dallas. It's an intimate place for a performance - only about 70 people fit, all in folding chairs or couches - and the stage has hardly enough room for a drum set, a guitar player, and a bass player. Because we're on the verge of clocking over into the next decade, David made a point to work backwards chronologically through his albums. Since I've been out of the David Garza loop for quite a while, I didn't start recognizing the songs until about half-way through set, or circa 2000. He played many of my favorites from Overdub, This Euphoria, Culture Vulture, and Conmigo. Towards the end of the set, David realized he only had 15 minutes left until the music had to stop, so he raced through a bunch of dance-able songs and a small group of dancers, including CK and me, got up to shake it down in the small space in between the stage and the first row of folding chairs. Afterward, CK and I met David and took a picture, which we're hoping will be sent to us by the photographer girl we met.

Swell Season - Palladium - 11/14/09

CK and I saw Swell Season at this same venue about a year ago, so it was a treat to see them again at the same place and observe the changes in their sound and stage presence. The extra year or touring, recording, and fame fared well on the group. They looked like they were having as much fun as they were last year and they played with as much heart, if not more. I didn't know any of the new songs, but they were great. Glen and Marketa are now touring with Glen's prior band, The Frames, and the added rhythm section, electric guitarist, and violinist really complete their sound. Of course, Glen and Marketa played plenty of songs on their own, but the most rocking moments were definitely with the band. Though there was one exception - a song I was hoping Glen would play. Last year, Glen played a Van Morrison song by himself. It was just his voice and his guitar, and it was awesome. He ripped through chords at light speed - on his acoustic, which seems like it would ruin the guitar, hence the massive holes in his old beat up Takamine - and screamed out the lyrics to the song (not even sure what they are) at the top of his lungs. He sounds like he's exorcising demons. Ridding himself of years of pent-up aggression and emotional baggage. It's quite a sight. At the end of the song, he loops his chords and the end result is a tidal wave of acoustic guitar. Walls of sound run into each other and reverberate against the walls and floors of the venue, flooding the space and then disappearing when he turns off the loop. If you have the chance to see Swell Season on this tour, and you're into the singer-songwriter vibe, go see this show. Their new songs and old songs are all worth hearing - and seeing.

I'm really excited for this string of shows starting tonight:

1. Regina Spektor - lucked into some great seats for tonight's show at Nokia Theater. It's a larger venue than I've seen her at before, but I'm still excited. This will be my third Regina show.
2. Friday - David Garza - Rock House Films - I haven't seen David play a small show in years. I'm pumped to see him again in a small venue. I'm taking CK and this is her first time seeing David.
3. Saturday - Swell Season - Palladium - CK invited me to this show. We saw Swell Season at the same venue about a year ago, so it will be neat to see how they've changed.

If you have a record player and the stylus (needle thing) is bent, do not play your records. The bent needle could damage the record. Get a replacement stylus. I found out last night that the stylus on my turntable was bent, probably during my last move, and I've been calling all over town searching for a replacement. None of the stereo stores in town carried them. I didn't feel like ordering one online and waiting 5 days. Then I tried Guitar Center. Jackpot. They carry them.

So there you go. If you need a new stylus for your record player, find a Guitar Center, or other similar music store that carries DJ equipment. They should have one.

CK's mom was gracious enough to give me a gift certificate to local music store Good Records for my birthday. I used the opportunity to go on a long-waited shopping spree for some albums I've wanted for a while. The take:

- Rodrigo Y Gabriela - 11:11 (CD + DVD set)
- Black Joe Lewis - Tell 'Em What Your Name Is! (CD)
- Mudhoney - SuperfuzzBigmuff (LP + MP3 download voucher)
- The Jesus Lizard - Liar (LP + MP3 download voucher)

I think it's really cool that you can buy an LP and get LP sound quality and also get digital versions of the songs to dump to your ipod or burn to CD. Or, better yet, I can hook up the record player to my music recording equipment and record tracks from the LP as if I were recording live music tracks. The computer won't know the difference. Hooray for RCA inputs! And Garage Band. Assuming Garage Band will be able to interpret the tracks and make MP3 files out of them. I suppose any signal fed through my USB interface will end up on one track on Garage Band anyway, which means I'd just make each song on the LP a one-track song in GB and then convert the songs to MP3. This post just got really nerdy.

T-Mobile sent another white phone. This is the third white phone they sent. When I asked them to just cover the cost of the phone, since, you know, I've been waiting a month for the phone and I've had to make three trips to UPS to ship the phones back, they said all they could do was reimburse me for the shipping. Fantastic. All the lunch breaks I spent talking to them and driving to UPS are apparently meaningless.

My solution: I'm going to a physical T-Mobile store to get the phone. I figure if I can look at it and make sure it's the right phone, it will be the right phone.

Let it be known. T-Mobile customer service sucks. Their ordering process is awful. Expect nothing for your wasted time. Expect nothing from their "Customer Loyalty" department. Expect plenty of apologies, but nothing in the way of compensation for your time and effort. T-Mobile clearly does not care to hold on to long-time customers.

I'm not one to normally complain about customer service. I know that's how most of these stories start out, but this story is bad. Really, really bad.

I was on a family plan with my parents and decided to go solo. T-Mobile let me apply my two years of loyal patronage and upgrade to a new phone for $50 and keep my awesome rate plan of unlimited minutes, anytime, for $50/month. Not a bad deal.

I called T-mobile and ordered a black Nokia xpress music phone. T-Mobile sent it to my parents house in Houston instead of my house in Dallas. After a few phone calls with T-Mobile and UPS, we finally got the phone to my house in Dallas. Except that someone had to be home to sign for it, and after three attempts, they sent the phone to their warehouse. T-Mobile would not ship to my place of work, where I spend my days, like most people, because they had to send the phone to the billing address on the account. Fine. I go to the UPS warehouse, rip open the package, and instead of a black Nokia phone, I see a white Nokia phone. Wrong color. Great.

I call T-Mobile and explain the problem. They apologize and promise to send out the right phone immediately and that I should expect a text message with the UPS tracking number. The package with the new phone will have a shipping label to slap on the package so that I can send the other phone back.

Days pass. No text message. I call T-Mobile again and ask what the story is. Turns out they misinformed me how their "process" works. The process is that I have to send the phone back first, call them with the tracking number, and they will then send me the right phone. Ridiculous. Why I have to assume risk of a lost phone for their mistake is beyond me. They should send me the phone back and wait for me to send them their wrong phone, and should i keep the old phone, they should then have the right to charge my account for the extra phone. That's how it should work.

I follow their process. I take the white phone to a UPS store, ship it, call T-Mobile again, give them the tracking number and shipping charge which will be credited to my account, and they promise to send the black phone.

The new phone arrives, and this time, I don't need to sign for it. It's sitting on my porch. I rip open the package and see - another white phone.

I call T-mobile (6th or 7th call by now) and again explain the problem. The customer rep again apologizes, and promises to make it right. Except - you guessed it - I have to go to a UPS store to ship the old phone back, though I don't need to so before they ship the right phone.

Let's hope they finally get it right. I never had any problems with T-Mobile until this ordeal. And because of this ordeal, I have to tell you, if you have any plans of buying a phone from T-Mobile that you have not seen with your own eyes, do not bother. Buy your phone from someone else. T-Mobile is awful and this customer service experience has been a huge waste of time. I've heard good things about Verizon. Give them a shot.

I'll keep you posted on any new developments.

Today is my 30th birthday. This is kind of weird.

I bought a plane ticket to Argentina last night. I'm going in late November.

That is all.

CK and I saw Rodrigo y Gabriela last night. I think it was the best concert I've seen all year, aside from Paul McCartney which gets automatic 1st place due to historical and musical significance and whatnot. But taking into account musicality, originality, and audience participation, this was the best show all year, and maybe the best show in years that I've been to.

They absolutely owned the audience. It looked like it was their first concert, or their ten thousandth. They looked simultaneously comfortable and shocked to be on stage with everyone cheering for them.

The highlight for me was watching Gabriela beat the shit out of her guitar. It's amazing to see her play live. I don't know how they designed that thing or what kind of microphones and pickups they rig inside of it, but when she slams her wrist down on the bridge the guitar booms like a drum (a floor tom for the musician readers). When she flicks her knuckles against the edges of the guitar, it sounds like two-by-fours banging into each other. She does wonders with that guitar. It's quite a sight, and it sounds like nothing else I've ever heard on a guitar. She creates rhythms that are complex and groovy, and make white people dance. Rodrigo, of course, treats his classical guitar like a thrash metal guitar, and it doesn't sound too far off when he gets to tearing out the barred chords that hit every string. It sounds pretty awesome and I especially enjoyed his solo time on stage without Gabriela. I like his writing style.

Musicianship aside, the show was entertaining and engaging. They both consistently urged the audience to clap to the rhythm, and this was one of the few shows I've been to when the audience gladly obliged - every time. They took turns soloing when the other left the stage for a few minutes. They played a lot of new material, which fans will notice makes use of guitar effects like wah-wah pedals and maybe a phaser. Gabriela swapped her guitar for a small hand-held drum and Rodrigo took his turn on a box drum (the kind you sit on). I liked how they've mixed up the sound on the new songs. I don't think an entire album of bare guitar work would have been as cool as a record of guitar work filtered through some fun effects and accompanied by hand percussion.

It seems that a concert of two musicians playing acoustic guitars would get repetitive after a while. No drum set. No bass. No vocals. No keyboards or pianos. But the advantage for R y G is in their ability to experiment with song structure and dynamics by limiting the number of people and instruments in the group. By restricting the number of possible sounds, they force themselves to invent new and better ways to create drama and excitement with their music. And they've become better at it than many "traditional" bands.

There you have it. Go see R y G if you get the chance. Oh, and they told us they had to choose between playing Houston or Dallas, and since they "fucking hate" the Houston airport, they chose Dallas. Sucks to be you, Houston! Intercontinental, thank you for sending R y G to Dallas.

It's been a long time since I read a book. According to this blog, the last time I posted about a book was January 8, 2007. This would correspond directly with my last semester of law school, which was concluded with the following chain of events that probably explain why I haven't read a book since:

1. Studying for last semester exams
2. Studying for the Bar
3. Taking the bar
4. Moving to Dallas
5. Starting my job

Plenty of people read books during the above events. I didn't. At least I don't think I did, or at least I didn't blog about it, which means I probably didn't. Though I may have started two books that I did not finish (A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and Guns, Germs, and Steel).

My manager lent me a book called The Book Thief, which I also started, and also did not finish. The introduction did not hold my attention and I got bored. So it sat next to my bed. For about two years. Last night, I decided to give it another try. I'm glad I did. It's really, really good. The structure was a little odd at first. I didn't know what to make of the occasional "FYI" comments from the narrator in bolded and centered text. But I pushed through the first few chapters and it all started to flow eventually. I think I'll finish this book. The first one in at least two years.

I don't know why i took such a long break between reading books recreationally. Maybe the Bar sapped away any interest I had in reading, maybe the task of transitioning from law student to lawyer took a lot out of me. Who knows. Either way, it feels good to read a story again. After reading contracts and agreements and licenses for two years, I think I'm ready for some reading that does not include the word "hereby."

I've been keeping track of every concert and show I've seen in my entire life for a long time. I previously kept the list in a .doc file linked on the right side of this page. I decided to finally make it a webpage instead.

I also added individual archive pages for the various authors that have authored on this blog.

See "Syllabus" for the new links.

The Paul concert was pretty amazing. He played a lot of songs from his solo and wings years I didn't know, but there all good. I was just anxious to hear all the Beatles I'd been waiting years to hear, and he did not leave us hanging. The set list is below, with some comments from me.

01. Drive My Car
02. Jet
03. Only Mama Knows
04. Flaming Pie
05. Got To Get You Into My Life
06. Let Me Roll It / Foxy Lady ending (Story about Jimi Hendrix asking Eric Clapton to come on stage and help him tune his guitar at a show after Jimi went crazy with the whammy bar, sending his guitar out of tune.)
07. Highway
08. All My Loving
09. The Long And Winding Road
10. My Love
11. Blackbird (story about civil rights movement, and how this song was about the events in Birmingham)
12. Here Today (John Lennon tribute. Paul said he wrote this for John after he died, and mentioned that sometimes you never tell your friends the things you want to tell them when they are around. This song is what Paul wanted to say to John).
13. Dance Tonight
14. Calico Skies
15. Mrs Vanderbilt
16 It's so Easy (Buddy Holly cover. Paul said that one of their favorite musicians while growing up was from Lubbock - Buddy Holly. So just for this show, the only time he’d played this song live, they did the song for us).
17. Eleanor Rigby
18. Sing The Changes
19. Band On The Run
20. Back In The USSR

21. I'm Down
22. Something (George Harrison tribute, first half was Paul playing solo with a ukulele George gave him. Second half was played with full band.)
23. I've Got A Feeling
24. Paperback Writer
25. A Day In The Life / Give Peace A Chance
26. Let It Be
27. Live And Let Die
28. Hey Jude

First Encore
29. Day Tripper
30. Lady Madonna
31. I Saw Her Standing There

Second Encore
32. Yesterday
33. Helter Skelter
34. Get Back
35. Sgt. Pepper Reprise/The End

Paul McCartney is here and CK and I have tickets to the show tonight. The hard part: getting to the show. There is a Rangers game going on at almost the same time not too far from the stadium and practically all of DFW will be converging on the area. I'm taking a train to CK's office's part of town and then we're driving to the stadium together. Hopefully, we'll make it on time.

I turned down an opportunity to see Depeche Mode with my work friends in order to go to Austin and help my sister celebrate her 35th birthday. Am I good brother or what?

Soundgarden recorded a song called Sub Pop Rock City for release on the record label Sub Pop's compilation Sub Pop 200. Jonathon and Bruce were the owners of the label. One verse of the song goes:

[Phone ringing]
Hello?
Actual phone call recording: "This is Jonathan."
Hey Jon
"I just want to know what the heck is going on."
Well, you know, I have this problem
"What the heck is going on?"
Yeah, ok, do you think you would have too much trouble if we got rid of our sideburns?
"At your earliest convenience."
Well, I know, you said that before, but do you think Bruce would mind?
"This is Bruce Pavitt."
Hey Bruce, I mean, ok, can we have our drummer back please?
"Bye!"

Our shredder wants to make sure you don't try to stick your hand, or tie, into it. Nice.

The list got longer:

Stan Getz and Joao Gilberto - Getz/Gilberto
Fugazi - Repeater + 3 Songs (still looking for Red Medicine and Argument)
Deathray Davies - The Day of the Ray and Midnight At the Black Nailpolish Factory
Elvis Presley - #1s
Letters to Cleo - Aurora Gory Alice
Muse - Showbiz
New Bomb Turks - The Night Before The Day The Earth Stood Still
REM - Green
Red Hot Chili Peppers - Mother's Milk

Today is the last day of the July Texas bar. Good luck to the bar takers! You're almost done. If you're anything like me, you will have made big plans to go get shit-faced right after the bar, but you'll actually go straight to bed.

I did some digging through boxes last night and discovered a ton of CDs I forgot I had, including three (not one, as previously thought) Sonic Youth CDs I didn't even know I owned. I'm working my way through Goo right now. It's all good. Every song. I know I'm only about 18 years late, but in classic Particleman fashion, I'm way behind the time curve but still totally hip. But not hipster hip. Just hip. The other Sonic Youth CDs I found were Experimental Jet Set and Dirty.

Other CDs I found were:
Sup Pop 200 (compilation)
Jesus Lizard - Shot
Babes in Toyland - Nemesisters
L7 - Bricks are Heavy
Bad Religion (two of the newish albums, which might suck)
Pulp - This is Hardcore
Mudhoney - My Brother The Cow

Get ready for some CD reviews of old CDs! I bought these CDs at some point in my life and forgot about them. I need to find out why I bought them, and why I forgot about them. And then if I still like them.

As you may or may not know, I maintain a list of every concert or music show I've ever seen (see link on right side of this page). I thought it would be cool to look at one day when I'm old cranky. You know, as opposed to 29 and cranky.

I decided to see who else keeps such lists. I found a few:

Sit. Stay. Good Blog.
Notthatanyonecares.com
Rock-revival.com

I'm thinking I should move my concert list from a Word document linked on the this page to this page itself. Or maybe create a separate page for it.

Yeah, it's a slow Monday morning.

I recently saw the documentary Hype!. I have a strange fascination with music "scenes" or "movements" that transformed a geographical area, music subculture, or entire music genres, and then disappeared. Hype! gave me the lowdown on everything I didn't already know about the goings-on of the bands that materialized in the Seattle area in the mid 80s to mid 90s. I've always known that "grunge" was a made up word, but now that I've seen Hype!, I have more of the facts of the so-called "grunge" movement.

If you in any way have an interest in learning exactly what happened in the "grunge movement," this documentary will more or less lay it all out for you.

The first big surprise I can tell you is that there really wasn't a movement at all. At least not an organized one. Any "movement" was the product of everyone outside of the "movement" deciding there should be a movement.

This makes my fourth Sonic Youth show. The sound at this show was probably the best among any of the other shows I've seen. I've somehow managed to never own any Sonic Youth albums, except when I think I might have had the Dirty cd for a while, though it managed to disappear at some point. Whenever I see Sonic Youth, I only vaguely remember any of the songs but I tend to like all or almost all of them.

I think knowing the Sonic Youth songs is kind of optional when seeing them live. In fact, I think the shows are more fun not knowing what will come next when they start a song. Their songs are so diverse and dynamic that most of the fun for me comes from watching them navigate their way through the song. On the other hand, one of the last songs of the set was an "old song," and I really like it, and now I have no idea what song it is or where I can find it. I suppose I may cave in and acquaint myself with some of their older albums so I can better track how they progressed from noise-punk outfit to their current schtick of avant-garde borderline experimental indie rock.

My only complaint at this show was the lack of inter-song banter. Kim hardly said a word. Thurston joked around a little, and Lee chimed in, but there was no other audience communication. I don't remember very many Thank Yous, either, which I think is pretty easy to do.

Otherwise, they seemed like they were in good form and it was a fun show. If you get a chance, you should try to catch one of their shows.

PS - if you're curious, the other SY shows were:

8/02/02 – Stubb’s, Austin, TX
8/30/02 – Crystal Ballroom, Portland, OR (happened to be at the right place at the right time)
7/04/08 – Battery Park - New York, NY (happened to be at the right place at the right time)

Hey Dallas readers-

If you have a Citibank credit card (or know someone who does), Sonic Youth tickets for tonight's show at House of Blues can be had for $5 plus an assortment of fees, for a total price of around $15 if you pay by credit card and choose to get your ticket by email. If you pay by credit card, you don't need to use the Citibank card to get the discount. You only need the last few numbers of the Citi card to activate the discount. After that, you can pay however you want.

Go here for Sonic Youth tickets.

You can also go here for other Live Nation tickets without paying any service fees, for today (July 15) only. If you want to see Aerosmith this Sunday, for example, you can get lawn seats for $30, with no service fees. I saw Aerosmith in high school and enjoyed the show.

CK and I are in Aspen for a few days visiting her parents, who come to Aspen every summer for one to two weeks. So far, we've walked around the town and looked at a lot of things and eaten a lot of food, which I've found is extremely taxing and has alerted me to the low oxygen levels at this altitude. CK and I found several cool pubs frequented by what appear to be locals and 20-somethings with nothing better to do than drink.

Today, our plan is to go white water rafting. Depending on how beat we are, CK and I may also rent cruisers and ride around town, or maybe go for a hike with her folks.

Other planned activities include: nothing at all, more cycling, more walking, more eating, and more drinking. It will prove to be a difficult and challenging few days. I'll keep you posted on our progress.

What, you've never lived in Oman? Never even been there? Would you want to know what happens when two charismatic and outdoorsy engineers (I know that's kind of an oxymoron) from Texas pull up their roots and move to Oman for six months for work? Of course you do. Go here:

Bree and Brian's Excellent Adventures

Remember my old friend Mr. Pinch Blogger? He blogged on this here blog for quite some time, and did a bang-up job of it too. Well, he's the one who ran off to Oman with his wife. See more of his witty writings at his new, Oman-centric blog.

I'm happy to admit I don't really know what this Twitter thing is all about. For someone who was supposedly once employed in and involved heavily with technology, I'm remarkably behind the times. I remember when Twitter came out. I thought it was the same thing as text messaging, except free. I also thought it was yet another way people can get around having to actually use a phone and call someone to tell them what they're up to. I also thought it was just more data to firehose at people who are likely already getting firehosed with too much data.

At either rate, I'm glad to see this Twitter thing has caught on and found a market niche for itself. Not that I'm using it. Oh, no. I'm much too lazy for that. I only know for sure that it's taken off because I've finally seen it show up in my legal work. One of my clients wants to use Twitter to advertise. And we all know, once a communication medium is considered by businesses as a viable advertising tool, it's officially hit the bigtime.

Congrats, Twitter. Business want to use you to hawk their wares. You've made it.

I also think the political use of Twitter with the Iran election situation is impressive. I'm glad a culture is able to circumvent their oppressive political systems and use technology to communicate with the world. If Twitter has ever had to demonstrate its usefulness to the world and prove its meaning in life, this was it.

Potter, Stars Trek and Wars, Matrix all the same movie

I've felt this way for a while. I think Lord of the Rings can be thrown in there too. Modified version:

Once upon a time, Luke | Kirk | Neo | Harry | Frodo was living a miserable/uneventful life. Feeling disconnected from his friends and family, he dreams about how his life could be different. One day, he is greeted by Obi Wan | Captain Pike | Trinity | Hagrid | Gandalf and told that his life is not what it seems, and that due to some circumstances surrounding his birth | birth | birth | infancy | birth* he was meant for something greater.

* Whether through his family connection to Bilbo or some other unexplained power that allows him to resist the ring.

Turns out I'm turning 30 this October. I know. It's as much a shock to me as it is to you. I really don't deserve having a 3 in the first spot in my age. I appear to possess all of the basic attributes of adulthood, but it's really a facade: house, car, job, bills, general late 20s disillusionment and the requisite pre-mid-life existential crisis. All meaningless. All hollow. My favorite lyrics are still the lyrics to Beck's Cyanide Breathmint and Bogusflow (those are two different songs). I still watch The Big Lebowski once per month. I still write bad songs on the guitar and attempt to cross Nirvana with The Dead Milkmen with Nick Drake. It doesn't work.

I need a birthday bash idea to blow away all other possible birthday bashes. I'll put down my first idea here. It's something I've wanted to do for a long time. I don't know how much it costs, but I'm pretty sure I'd have to take out another mortgage to afford it, and it just might be worth it. Here it is:

1. Hire the Foo Fighters to play at my party. I really just want to jam out on bass with the Foos and get stupid drunk with them afterwards. Or before. Both, probably. We'd have to play a bunch of covers, naturally. Goofy ones. Or at least make fun of some classics. I'm thinking Elton John. Fleetwood Mac. Maybe throw some Danzig in there for good measure.

2. ??? This is where you come in. Feel free to suggest other ideas.

WARNING: SPOILER (kind of)

CK and I watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Always the critical analysts, we discovered something of an inconsistency in the movie's theory about Benjamin's condition.

Given: Benjamin was born young in spirit but old in physical development, continuing to mature emotionally and mentally and "devolve" physically from an old man to a youth as time passed.

Extrapolated postulate of movie: Benjamin would have to die a "traditional" baby-like baby in physical development but an old man in spirit.

Actual end-game of movie: Benjamin dies a traditional baby-like baby in physical development but, rather than continuing to age mentally and emotionally with his life experiences and memories in tow, he loses his memory, suffers from dementia, and devolves into a baby in spirit.

Why the movie crew decided not to have a baby-looking baby talk and act like an old man must only be attributed to the difficulties in getting a baby to posses the speech skills of an adult. Could they really have given us a Benjamin that looked like an infant but talked like an old man? Maybe. Maybe not. They did give us a Benjamin that looked like an "old baby" but acted like a youth. Anything's possible in that context.

On the other hand, perhaps the dementia makes sense. As we age in the first few years of life, our brains make connections to hold more and more memories and make more and more thoughts. If memories and thoughts once existed in connections that Benjamin had, and he started losing connections as he physically devolved into an infant, he would lose the connections, and, with them, memories and thoughts, only to be replaced with confusion.

CK and I booked our beach vacation. We chose a hotel/resort/compound 30 minutes south of Cancun that seriously looks like another planet. I've been to Mexico before and I've seen the beaches, but this place just look ridiculous. They have their own jungle. I'm pretty excited.

Particleman.org now has a webmaster. Not just any webmaster - but my beautiful, intelligent, and charmingly geeky girlfriend, henceforth known as CK. She got the captcha password thing to work on the comments after I failed miserably ages ago and then gave up entirely on having comments. Thank you, CK, for fixing my broken comments.

So - comment away. I guess this means I should start blogging more now.

Um, I planted grass this weekend. My legs hurt like a sonofabitch. I also saw bits and pieces of The Chronicles of Narnia, which has to be one of the longest movies I've somewhat paid attention to.

CK and I are planning a beach vacation. Should we go to Cancun proper, Isla Mujeres, or one of the other towns down the Riviera Maya coast? We're not too crazy about the touristy parts of the area, so Cancun does not score high on our list. I've been to Isla Mujeres and Tulum and liked them both, and I'm inclined to go back.

I'm pretty sure I still spend more time there than I do at the house. At least I know I'm making progress on the house, that is, in between trips back here from home depot.

Something funny happened to me a couple weeks ago. I decided i wanted to turn this house into more than a never-ending project. I wanted to make it something that I liked looking at. Something that resembled a "home." So I started working on my lawn and my garden. I am proud to say that I now have "flowers" and "plants" in the flower beds in front of my house. Only time will tell if these things survive the harsh environment that is the place where I reside (I tend to kill plants) or if they become brown and crackly and dry excuses for something that was once alive and beautiful. I know that all I need to do is water them and make sure they get sun, but even that isn't always easy. I'm not sure they'll get the right amount of sun, or the right kind of sun.

Another thing I've noticed - I talk about my house way too much. And flowers. And sprinkler systems. And kitchen tile. And faucets. It's fucking lame. Thankfully though, I do have something else to talk about.

Music. My band has been very active lately. We've had several gigs this month and we've been working hard to build up our set and hone our sound. We've been choosing some lesser-known Beatles songs such as I Want You (She's So Heavy), If I Fell, and Fixing a Hole. It's great to see audience members react to our renditions of the Beatles classics - whether #1 hit or oddity. Who can't love a reggae version of I Want To Hold Your Hand or an instrumental version of Blackbird with flute instead of vocals? No one. No one, I tell you.

Oh yeah. I bought my first real leather sofa. Just had to get that in there. No more futon for me. I'm slowly whittling away at my college and post-college furniture. Which will then become guest room furniture...

But I moved into Home Depot. For anyone who has bought a house, I think you understand. And for those who have not bought a house, imagine buying a car, and then realizing you don't like the steering wheel, or the seats, or the door handles, or the A/C knobs, or the shocks, and so on. That's kind of what buying a house is like. At least, an older house.

If not, let me refresh your recollection. Turns out she responded to heather's post about her. Cool. And she's writing new songs. Cooler.

Here at particleman.org, we never make excuses for not posting regularly. Even when "not posting regularly" means not posting for three months. Oops.

Quite a few notable things have happened since we last spoke. My Beatles band finished a recording a demo, which was a lengthy and challenging experience, mostly because I was the one that did the recording. Let me tell you folks, recording a band is no simple feat, especially when recording with limited equipment and recording knowledge. We succeeded, however, and the demo is complete.

I decided to buy a house. I guess that makes me "responsible" and "adult" and "fucking broke." I had no idea buying a house was such massively costly ordeal. I'm not complaining, though, because the market is so favorable for buyers right now that my interest rate is ridiculously low, the gentlemen who owned the house sold it to me for less than market value because he was older and "wanted to help a young fella out," and Obama is going to give me $8,000, or so he says. I'll believe it when i see it.

Where is the house, you ask? In the cool part of town, of course. But not the cool part of town where everything is new and Europe-esque and completely overcrowded and overpriced (not that there's anything wrong with that - if that's what you like, hey, more power to you). My house is in the cool part of town where the houses were built in the 1950s, where someone's grandma and grandpa likely still live in their first house, where not three minutes away is a funky street lined with bars, cool restaurants, and a kick ass music venue, where literally across the street is a lake with a 10-mile bike path, and most importantly, where the land value will create a long-term investment for me.

Now, let's be realistic. A 1950s home? Wouldn't an older home be a slightly different owning experience than, say, a new home? Yes. Resoundingly yes. This house needs work. Quite a bit of work. But I'm determined to bring this house from 1955 to, at least, 1995. Maybe one day I can bring it to 2005. That shit gets expensive though, so I may hang out at 1995 for a while. Anyone have some nice used appliances they can sell me? I kid. Not really.

Consistent with that authentic particleman flavor of posting pictures of dishwashers, I will take a picture of the dishwasher in this house and post it for your amusement. It's a piece of American history. It should be in the Smithsonian. Or National Geographic. It will probably end up on Craigslist.

Other cool things that happened recently: As the previous post indicates, I went to Vegas, again, but this time with my special someone. We saw Billy Joel and the Beatles Love show and lost money at the craps table. Yay! I went to my girlfriend's parents' birthday party in San Antonio and spotted an older gentlemen reminiscing about the old days walking around with an oregano joint. I managed to not ride my bikes for two months (lame). I accidentally got really drunk last night at my friend's wedding rehearsal dinner after-party, and I woke up and wrote this blog post. My head still hurts. I'm going back to bed.

I went to Las Vegas for the first time. For a bachelor party. And I lost some money at a variety of establishments in and around the strip. I will not comment where I left my money and how I left it, but let it be known that Las Vegas is a money pit. A wild, crazy, and fun money pit. And it just so happens that I'm going back for Valentine's Day. The Girlfriend's birthday is February 13, so we're flying to Vegas to see Billy Joel and the Beatles Love show and to generally lose money together. Because losing money with your special someone is much better than losing money with a bunch of strangers.

Maybe this time the blackjack gods won't curse me hand after hand.

My Beatles band practices at a practice space called Universal Rehearsal. Down the hall from our little 11x11 room are two large padlocked double doors with a sign that reads, "Smile, you're on candid camera, stupid!" to deter would-be thieves from attempting any foolishness. I originally thought it was a storage room for the owners of the building.

Last week i went to practice and noticed that the doors were open. This was the first time in a year that I had ever seen the doors open. The room dwarfed my band's practice room. To my surprise, it was not a storage room. Well, it may very well be a storage room for the time being, but not for the building owners. In the room I saw stacks of speakers and music equipment cases with "TOADIES" spray painted on the cases. A large drum riser sat against one wall. The room is the practice space for the band The Toadies. I knew they practiced in the building, but I didn't exactly know they were down the hall. Cool.

I added an author post-sorting mechanism. Finally. You can now sort posts by the various and sundry authors that have appeared on this blog. Please direct your attention to the new heading "CONTRIBUTORS" underneath "PROPRIETOR" and marvel at the new links.

You're welcome. My Chrismukkah present to you. It only took me three years.

Winter showed up a while ago. I went into hiding. I've been working a lot. Working at work and working on my band. We played a show at a local Irish pub. Good times. I've also been doing a lot of traveling -all within Texas. Houston, Austin, and San Antonio. All of this is basically my attempt at making an excuse for not posting for two months. Oops. At either rate, I'm here, I'm back, and I'm ready to write. Run and hide.

I saw the Polyphonic Spree Holiday Extravaganza a couple weeks ago at the Granada Theater here in Dallas. In case you have no idea what any of that means, The Polyphonic Spree is an odd orchestral rock band with a varying lineup of musicians depending on the size of the venue. It's a little difficult to describe. The Polyphonic Spree creates positive music. It rocks. It's huge. It's complicated. It's a firehose of instrumentation. It's a wall of sound. Imagine a scaled-down orchestra complete with strings, horns, harp, flute, and percussion, combined with a six-piece choir, a rock band, a keyboard player, another keyboard player with sampling devices, and singer/conductor who sporadically jumps onto a podium to sing.

Some of the instruments get lost in the mix. The harp, flute, and strings were completely drowned out by the horns, choir, and rock band. There's a reason why orchestras don't have that many different types of instruments. Strings only work well when accompanied by other instruments when there are lots of strings to boost the sound. Horns, on the other hand, naturally push more air and need less amplification and can easily cut through the mix. The Polyphonic Spree ignores all of these usual constraints and throws together a patchwork quilt of instruments. I've been told that getting the sound mix right at live shows is a tricky task, and that if the sound is not mixed just right, the show is unlistenable.

The show itself was phenomenal. They played moving images on two gigantic movie projectors on either side of the venue hall throughout the entirety of the show. The first part of the show was the Christmas set. They covered Christmas songs of all types, some of which i knew, most of which i didn't. They also played a song from The Nightmare Before Christmas soundtrack which prompted me to watch the move twice the following week. I hadn't seen it since its release in the 90s.

The second half of the show, which went till after 2 am, was the "normal," non-Christmas set. Interspersed throughout the evening were other side-acts that helped distract us from the length of the show (it started at 8 and ended at 2:something). I was late to the show so I only caught two of the side acts. One was a subset of musicians from the main band that donned baroque wigs and played original and cover songs, one of which was Because by The Beatles. The other side act I saw was Morgan Taylor, a guy who created an entire world of music, images, and other media about a character he created named Gustafer Yellowgold. It seemed to be geared towards kids, but i found it catchy and kind of refreshing and innocent.

The Polyphonic Spree also liberally blasted the space above the audience with confetti and dumped balloons on our heads. The guy next to me lost his glasses to a stray balloon, only to recover them thanks to someone 10 feet away who found them on the floor.

A photographer also took pictures of the band and audience. I made it into several of the pictures. Here's one of them.

Where's Particleman?

Blog posts to come: New Toadies album, new Breeders album, re-discovering old music, finding the funk, and trying to stay in shape.

I just turned 29. It's such a pointless age. It's like turning 20 in a state with a drinking age of 21. Rather than bitch and complain about my age, and claim I'm 21 plus some number, or 25 plus some number, I'm going to say I'm 30 minus some number. That way, I'll be establishing a pattern once I pass 30 and start adding years to my birthday in the form of, "I'm 30, for the third time" or something.

It's brilliant, I know.

I've been getting slammed with comment spam the past few days. I disabled comments until I find a suitable spam-prevention device. Apologies for the inconvenience.

I have a new obsession, and its name is someecards.com. They're witty one-liner e-cards for any and no occasion whatsoever. Here's an example from the "workplace" category:

Be careful, though. Those of the faint of heart should take caution before browsing the cards. Some are rather racy and/or make use of foul language. Kind of like the one I pasted above. Sorry.

Besides looking for fun cards to send to people, I also discovered the "Make your own e-cards" section of the site. And as one person told me after giving me a card-worthy topic about which to create a card, I turned into something of a card monster. I'll come up with a card topic and create four cards, and send them one after another. To the same lucky individual. You know, for feedback. Then I submit the best one to the someecard board of directors (or whatever the hell they are) for consideration on the main site. Chances of publication? Low. Thrill level I'll experience if they actually choose my card, or a derivative of my card, or something kinda similar to my card but clearly not my card for publishing on the main site? Ridiculously high.

Some of my cards:

Addendum: I've been notified by the originator of the first card I created above (please see below comment) that the idea for the card was not mine and should properly be credited to the originator of the idea. I hereby relinquish my claim to originating the "falling asleep while with one's partner in an intimate situation" card idea to the original creator, who was not me, who called me to complain. I will maintain ownership, however, of the unique implementation of the idea as embodied in the card above. The unique combination of picture, card color, and phrasing of the idea are properly attributable to me. Sorry for any confusion.

One of my friends called me with a strange legal question the other day. He's the sales rep for a new flip-flop company. As you know, flip-flops often contain rubber. The question went like this:

Do you know of any tort where someone can sue if a flip-flop melts and gets stuck to the bottom of your foot? You know, like if you're sitting by a fireplace or something and the rubber catches fire and melts? Can they sue for that?

Feel free to post your responses.

Am I the only person who wanted desperately for Sarah Palin to say "hockey mom" at the debate last night? That was all I wanted to hear. "I'm a hockey mom."

Unfortunately, I was too busy drinking at a happy to pay much attention to the TVs showing the debate. Oops.

I signed up for a bike tour in Glen Rose, TX called the Paluxy Pedal. Don't know where Glen Rose is? Yeah, neither did I. Turns out it's about 50 miles southwest of Ft. Worth in the Hill Country. Small towns all over Texas host bike tours throughout most of the year to attract tourists and support local businesses. This tour comes in four flavors: 30, 45, 60, and 80 miles. I opted for the 45-mile version since I'm out of shape and figure three to four hours on the bike is about all I'll feel like at 8:30 on a Saturday morning.

I signed up with my colleague and manager. When I sent the email to them asking if they were interested, the responses included:

Glen Rose is all about the hills. With me on a MTB (I'll get some more appropriate tires) and mostly out of shape, I hope you're ready for a slow ride.

45 miles? I've never even done 30.

Troopers they are, they both agreed to come along. The ride is Saturday, October 11, at 8:30 am. Show up hungover, out of shape, asleep, or on a tricycle. Whatever. I'll be at least three of those things.

If you're interested in other rides, check out TexBiker.net.

I heard about this acoustic rock duo from Mexico called Rodrigo y Gabriela last week and I have totally lost it for this band. What happens when you combine old school thrash metal with classical Spanish guitar? Some damn good music, and some damn good musicianship.

Rodrigo and Gabriela were apparently in a thrash metal band in Mexico and gave it up to start their own duo in Dublin. The result can be seen here.

I remember reading something about this group on V's website, but of course I can't find the link now. I wish I had checked them out then. Rodrigo y Gabriela's music blows me away. I love it. Gabriela's thumps, bangs, strums, plucks, and smacks her guitar to keep the beat and the melody while Rodrigo adds a layer of solos and occasional strumming and banging as well. In basic terms, she's the rhythm section, and he's lead guitar. It's a fantastic idea and they pull it off perfectly.

They also cover an old Metallica song. I was a Metallica fan in my junior high days, and Rodrigo y Gabriela's song Orion sounded vaguely like it was laced with Kirk Hammett guitar lines and classic metal riffing. Lo and behold, Orion is a 1986 Metallica song from Master of Puppets. The rest of Rodrigo y Gabriela's music borrows from metal guitar here and there in melody and sometimes style.

Mostly, what I like about Rodrigo y Gabriela's music is the rhythm. It feels like traditional Spanish guitar music, but with a beat that moves you. I can't wait for them to come to Texas. If they don't come to Dallas, I will do my best to get to wherever they are playing. And you should too.

The last update was 10/12/07, so a lot of new shows have been added.

My parents and friends are without power. I spent most of my life in Houston and I don't remember any hurricane causing this much damage, and Ike wasn't even that severe of a hurricane. If all goes according to plan, I will be in Houston this weekend helping my parents clean up and get things back in order. Thankfully, their house wasn't damaged.

In other news, um, I have no real other news. Except for that the summer is over and it's officially been one year since I started working full-time as a lawyer. It's been a great year. Challenging, but great, and I'm looking forward to the next year. A lot of interesting stuff is happening with copyright law and music law, stuff that no one except copyright law geeks like me care about, but here's one thing that you guys might appreciate: Lars Ulrich Fine with Metallica Album Leak.

A long, long time ago, I mentioned to my boss, a huge Nine Inch Nail fan, that we should make a work event of the upcoming Nine Inch Nails concert. You see, Nine Inch Nails have a special meaning for my boss and me. My very first day as an intern in the summer of 2006 involved Nine Inch Nails. I sat in her office, eager for my first day, and she told me that she spent the previous night rocking out at the Nine Inch Nails concert. I was jealous. Then she mentioned she was surprised that Nine Inch Nails played "Hurt, you know, that Johnny Cash song."

Huh? She must mean "Hurt, the Nine Inch Nails song that Johnny Cash covered, not the other way around." She was doubtful, so I insisted she ask Google and see what it said. Lo and behold, Google told her Hurt was indeed a NIN song. So, my working relationship with my boss started with Nine Inch Nails. Granted, she was rocking out to Nine Inch Nails before I knew they existed, and before I had finished Junior High, actually.

I mentioned to her that we should make a work event out of this summer's NIN show because both of us are fans, and the other lawyer in my department and our managing partner are also fans. She said it sounded like a good idea. And we went back to work and completely forgot about it.

Fast forward to this summer. Last month, I get an email with the following subject: "FW: Thank You for your purchase of four Nine Inch Nails tickets for Dallas, TX." The managing partner got us four seats.

The show was last Monday. It was awesome. Besides playing a great set of both old and new songs, the light show was fantastic. It was the best light show I've seen at any rock concert. Better than Muse and better than Massive Attack. This light show was something else. I can't even describe it because I don't really know what they did, but all I can say is they had three gigantic LCD screens, a translucent light screen, and hanging light sticks that hung down to stage level blinking in rhythm.

As for the music, I am not crazy about the new stuff, but the old stuff was great, of course. What I've noticed about the new stuff is that the music is more 'open.' That is, there seems to be less going on musically. It's been stripped down. There is more open air in the drum tracks, providing more space for other instruments and 'thicker' vocals. Or sometimes, the new open space is left open, so the tracks sound less busy, which I think is a good thing.

A lot of the older NIN songs sounded very busy - lots going on, and not much empty air to build with. I think learning to use open space effectively is something that comes to a songwriter with experience. Trent is probably at the point where he wants to leave the songs with more open space. I think it's a good dynamic. I still crave the crazy, seething energy of the older songs, but the new songs do break up the set. Instead of noise-fest after noise-fest, the new songs demonstrate a very different style of songwriting and give the listener some time to process all of the music. Not to say all older songs lacked open space entirely - Piggy, Hurt, and Closer all make use of open space - but the new songs are much more stripped-down. I just hope he doesn't lose that edge. It's hard to maintain the same high energy level in songwriting when you're not young and angry anymore, and you don't have as much to prove. The music has to change, but hopefully it doesn't lose its impact.

I went to Israel in July to see family and hang out with my cousin. My cousin, a 28-year old computer engineer, managed to get all 10 days of my trip off from work. We did a lot of random stuff, so I'll just list everything out in completely nonsensical and unchronological order, as usual.

1. Went to Haifa to see the Bahaii Gardens and ride a cablecar. The gardens are on the side of a hill and are the most lush gardens I have ever seen.
2. Ate a lot of shawarma. A lot as in every other day. The shawarma in Dallas just isn’t the same.
3. Went hiking somewhere outside Jerusalem after the trail closed but also after my cousin was able to convince the guard to let us in anyway.
4. Manage to not get blown up (it’s not really not as bad as the media makes it seem. Don’t believe the hype. The country isn’t self-destructing).
5. Went to a lot of bars and pubs. Drank and danced.
6. Went to Hertzliyah beach twice and Tel Aviv beach twice.
7. Got completely sunburned at Tel Aviv beach. But not the time I stripped down to my boxers and jumped in the sea without sunscreen. I got burned when I wore sunscreen.
8. Avoided Jerusalem.
9. Discovered that lawyers have a worse reputation in Israel than they do in the US.
10. Met a lot of amazing people.
11. BBQ'd hamburgers, hot dogs, and shishkabobs in a park.
12. Went to Yafo, one of the oldest port cities in the world.
13. Embarrassed myself with my broken Hebrew on a daily basis.
14. Was informed my glasses were out of style and that I ought to get some new ones (I did. Once back at home. They’re cool).
15. At my uncle’s home-made falafel.
16. Gorged on humus.
17. Did I mention that I ate a lot?

I bought Apple iWork a while ago out of spite for Microsoft and I'm starting to miss Excel. There is no equivalent of Excel's "Freeze Pane" in iWork's Numbers. This makes working in large spreadsheets much more difficult. I also don't see the use in moving the "Worksheets" bar to the side of the application, where it takes horizontal space away from the spreadsheet itself.

Apple, please give me Freeze Pane, and please nix the side-mounted Worksheet tab.

Thanks.

particleman

I went to New York for the July 4th weekend to hang out with one of my friends. It was a great time. I'm trying to recall everything we did but it's only coming back in pieces (as usual), so here is a jumbled list of what we did:

1. Saw Sonic Youth at a free outdoor concert at Battery Park
2. Waited in line to see Sonic Youth only to get turned away, but found a way to watch the show anyway with a bunch of people that were also turned away
3. Drank too much beer at a pub in Brooklyn, a bar in Brooklyn, and a Belgian bar in the West Village. The Belgian bar only served Belgian beer.
4. Ate street pizza in Brooklyn, and the West Village.
5. Convinced my friend's friend to propose to a girl in the subway with a quarter and a ring box I found attached to fake plastic Christmas tree branches wrapped around a light pole in Brooklyn. (she said no)
6. Went to the New Museum.
7. Went to Chelsea Pier and slept on the grass.
8. Went to Brooklyn Bridge.
9. Walked a lot.
10. Ate a lot of good food.
11. Watched a bartender spank a customer with a belt. He asked for it. So did a lot of other guys. They took pictures. She liked it too.

Thank you Jess for an awesome weekend.

I'm in Israel visiting my family in Hertzliah. My cousin and I are about to go out to a "dance bar" with his friends. Apparently it's a bar with different kinds of music in different rooms. I think these things exist in Dallas, but I wouldn't know, because I keep going to pubs.

I got here yesterday afternoon and we went straight to the beach after I landed. It was awesome.

The rest of the week will consist of more beach, more bars, and some traveling around the country to go hiking, kayaking, and maybe camping. I haven't been in Israel since 2002 (I think) so it's nice to be back and see everyone.

More to come...

Hey particlefans. Guess what. I moved. Again. In case you had forgotten, moving sucks. The owner of the duplex in which I lived sold the house and the owners have two sons who decided to occupy the duplex. After looking around for a suitable place to live, I finally signed a lease a whole five days before I had to be out of the duplex. Yes, I like to live on the edge. I spent Saturday and Sunday frantically packing and moving.

Because renting a moving truck would have been really expensive with that short of a notice, I ended up making 48 trips to and from the new place with my car filling it up as much as I could. Ok, maybe not 48 trips. But it was a lot. At least the new place was a whole two blocks away, so it wasn't so bad. And my friend with a pickup truck came to help too. And so did his fiance. Well, she mostly rode in the love seat in the truck bed talking on the phone, but, you know. That's how it goes. (She's from Oklahoma so she knows what she's doing) (Her words, not mine).

Oh, and did I tell you? I'm blogging from my new Macbook, which I got a while ago. It's sleek and black and awesome. And totally not Windows.

I didn't get to confirm that she was really Q T. Oh well.

If you don't play an instrument, or you don't care about key changes and music composition, you may want to skip this one...

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs released a song called Kiss Kiss that I immediately liked. I couldn't figure out exactly why, but the progression in the verse section sounded like something else I knew, but I couldn't place where it came from.

I had Nirvana's Nevermind playing in the car for a couple of days. I'll sometimes listen to a song four or five times in a row because I focus on different parts of the song. On the way home from a friend's house last night, I listened to Drain You for the entire duration of a 20 minute drive.

Then this morning, something occurred to me. The reason Kiss Kiss sounded familiar and the reason I couldn't figure out where it came from is because the verse progression is a carbon copy of the verse section of Drain You, but in a different key. I recognized the intervals, but because the key was different, I didn't immediately pick up that it was essentially the same riff.

I verified this by checking the Kiss Kiss tab. There it was. Drain You is in A. Kiss Kiss is in D. But the progression is the same.

The Drain You verse section isn't exactly the most unique or ingenuitive progression, but it's strange to see it show up again.

See? This post is really not that interesting for people who aren't music nerds.

One of my favorite movies growing up was Short Circuit. Imagine my surprise when I saw a preview for Pixar's new movie Wall-E.

Meet Wall-E.

Now, meet (not for the first time, I can only hope), Johnny #5.

I rest my case.

That said, I still want to see the movie, I still think it's a great idea for Pixar's next film, and I'm sure Wall-E's creator is tired of people asking if he's seen Short Circuit.

Addendum: Actually, it looks like Short Circuit got its inspiration from another non-human sentient being. Eventually, I will find the first movie to feature an alien or robot with a head shaped like binoculars on top of a long neck and squarish body.

June 4 - 8: NYC with my boss. We're meeting with clients on Thursday and Friday and then staying for the weekend. It's my first time to New York proper so I'm psyched.

June 21-22: toobing in San Marcos.

July 4-6: NYC again. This trip was planned months ago; the one above was planned well afterward. I'm going to hang out with my friend who is interning at a law firm in NY. July 4th in New York! Woo hoo!

July 17-27: Israel. I haven't gone to visit my cousin in five years, so I figured it was time to suck it up and make the flight. I'm gonna plop down on the Tel Aviv beach and take in the scenery...

This song has been stuck in my head for weeks. I wish I could write songs half as good as this one. With only four chords, she manages to create a catchy and powerful melody.

Not to mention PJ Harvey is totally hot.

I saw The Breeders last week. And they weren't drunk and/or high on something this time. I saw The Breeders in college (2000?) and I'm pretty sure Kim and/or Kelley had engaged in illicit substances prior to the show. But this time, the Deal sisters were sober and witty. They played some of my old favorites - Iris, I Just Wanna Get Along, Shocker In Gloomtown, Divine Hammer, and a song I did not expect to hear, Happiness Is A Warm Gun, which may have been the best song of the night.

The opening band, Colour Revolt, really wants to be an experimental indie band. They have a ways to go. "A" for effort. I'll reserve judgment on the rest.

Who knows how long the Deal sisters will keep touring. Go see them while you can. It's a nice taste of off-camber mid-90s indie-pop. Which, of course, will never go out of style.

I went biking after work on Wednesday in an effort to whip myself back into shape. It's been a while since I've ridden the ol' bikes on a consistent basis and I figure I am all out of excuses (rain, cold, work, band, lazy) so I was determined to get a lap or two in at the lake.

The first lap was great. I hauled ass and went faster than I normally do. Since the sun was still kind of up, I thought I could get one more lap in before it set entirely, so kept riding. About twenty minutes into the second lap, something strange happened. Well, it I wasn't so strange because I experienced the same thing a couple summers ago when I was an intern here, but I didn't expect the same thing to happen since it's not really summer yet.

What happened was this: swarms of tiny airborn bugs descended on the lake. It was like the Ten Plagues. Determined to drive me away from their feeding grounds, they bombarded me with their presence. They made noise as they hit my helmet and glasses and bike. They were too small to see with the fading light, but as soon as the sun was completely down and my bike light was the only thing illuminating the bike path, I could see them streaking past in the night. I had to duck my head as I rode to keep from eating or snorting them. It was hilarious. One of them got caught in my ear. That wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Today, I went for a ride in the beautiful 75 degree three o'clock air with The Evil I. After he complained of nausea and impending hurlage and headed home, I kept riding for another lap. Somewhere along the way I found myself in a strong head wind. While I was huffing and puffing up a hill, a bug much larger than the tiny insects from the other evening set itself on a direct crash course with my mouth and quickly got lodged in my throat.

It happened so fast I hardly had time to come to terms with the fact that I had just eaten a bug. Thankfully, he didn't go all the way down, but had just gotten caught in the back of my throat, so I hocked him right back out. Bastard. I'll show you. Then I vigorously rinsed my mouth with water, cursed at nature, admired the pretty trees, and rode on.

One of my friends had two extra tickets to a Jimmy Buffet concert last night so I called Evil I and drove out to Frisco, TX to meet up with her and her boyfriend. Just so you know, Frisco is the closest I have ever been to Oklahoma without flying over it. I found that rather fascinating for some reason.

She mentioned to me that they were hanging out in their friend's RV in a huge parking lot full of other RVs. I didn't know what to expect. It was a little bit like a Grateful Dead concert experience, or at least what I imagine what one would have been like. And it was also a little bit like your average concert experience, except the fans were a lot older and wearing goofy Hawaiian shirts. Such is apparently the dress code at a Jimmy Buffet concert.

Evil I and I made the trek from our parking space to the stadium and along the way passed through a grassy field temporarily modified into a RV/SUV/whatever you're driving party extravaganza. We passed one guy who said, with a very thick Texas accent, "I pulled that sucker right off and painted it myself," referring to the silver Chevy emblem on the grill of his Chevy truck. At that moment, I could have gone home happy and content. Mission accomplished. I had experienced something unique and entertaining. Regardless, we pressed on for the stadium, which was actually a soccer field for Dallas' soccer team.

Once in line, Evil I and I were treated with more walking comedy: a roaming bachelor party. Who knows where these guys had started their weekend, but as for now, they were all wearing custom-made yellow shirts with various lewd and quirky proclamations. Each guy apparently had his nickname emblazoned on the back of his shirt. One guy called himself "The Canadian Schlonghorn." Again, I could have gone home happy at that point. But we pressed on.

We finally met up with my friend and her boyfriend and entered the stadium. We were greeted with a massive throng of aging hippies and bored executives trying to let loose. It was quite a sight. While walking to our seats, a mid-40s woman and her friend (both drunk) offered Evil I and I a piece of their pink cotton candy. This is not a euphemism. They asserted that pink cotton candy was the better kind. I'm sure.

Once in our seats, we were able to enjoy the Jimmy Buffet concert experience. Basically, imagine sitting on a beach and listening to lazy songs about drinking, sitting, and screwing. Except that we were sitting in plastic seats with 20,000 other people, and there was no beach, which really made me want to take a vacation to a beach. So at that moment, my friend said we should pick a weekend in June and all go to Cancun or something. Sounds good to me. I need a vacation.

My favorite part of the show is that Jimmy Buffet has managed to find what may be the perfect career. He flies around the world filming himself having a good time in various far-off places. He spends a few months out of the year touring and showing videos of these vacations on massive screens at concerts while he stands around and sings a few songs to a bunch of drunk and/or stoned suburbanites. I obviously need to reevaluate my career choice.

After the concert, the four of us went to my friend's friend's RV and hung out and walked around the parking lot. People have apparently driven from all over the Southern US to Frisco for this concert. We saw a Tennessee license plate. People set up party pads next to their RV complete with imported sand to simulate a beach, beach chairs, kiddie pool, PA system playing laid-back tunes, a makeshift bar, mannequin pirate things, so on and so forth. One person built an actual pirate ship on a full length trailer. I'll wait for Evil I to upload the picture. It was impressive.

All in all, it was an unforgettable experience. And fun. I can check off that line item now. I've seen Jimmy Buffet and experienced the Jimmy Buffet concert experience. Even if you don't want to go to a Jimmy Buffet concert, you should take a trip the nearest parking lot or four adjacent to the stadium where Jimmy is platying. It's a free show of drunken hilarity. And you might see a pirate ship on wheels.

I have three options where I could go on my next vacation:

1. Sevilla, Spain, to hang out with my friend and her boyfriend.
2. London, with the singer in my band, to hang out with our friend and all the fun random people she's met by the time we get there.
3. Akumal, Mexico, just south of Cancun, to hang out with some college buddies and their friends and go snorkeling and sit on the beach for a week and drink.

What do you think? I went to Mexico last summer. I was in London for three days in 2001. I was in Sevilla for one day in 2003. Cast your vote.

My sister and her family moved into a new house this past weekend. Being the dutiful brother, I drove to Austin to help with the move. Thankfully, they hired movers to do most of the heavy lifting, allowing me to avoid permanently injuring myself trying to move things that require actual strength. The cool part is that one of the movers' names was Devo. As in, the band. How cool is that? Way cool.

Less cool is having to be asked, "Like, the band?" for your entire life.

All the necessary food groups in one convenient, tasty package. Cheese: protein. Crackers: carbs. Wine: alcohol.

I've been on an 80's music binge lately. Tears For Fears, The Smithereens, and XTC. I've decided that Mad World, Blood and Roses, and Making Plans For Nigel are each pop perfections in their own way. One spooky, one rocking, one goofy. Blood and Roses seems like three and a half minutes of songwriting perfection. The pieces of that song fit together so well.

Since I don't like Microsoft, and I don't want to pay stupid sums of money for Office, I downloaded OpenOffice, free of charge, from their webite and have been running it for about six months. I'm happy to report it doesn't suck. It's actually pretty good, especially considering how much I paid for it. No, it's not a flashy as Office 2007, or even Office 2003, but it gets the job done. Its version of Excel handles formulas just the same as Microsoft's version, and the documents are all cross-compatible. Just be sure you save your "Word" doc as .doc so Microsoft can open it on someone else's computer.

In other news, I'm buying a plane ticket to NYC to my friend over the July 4th weekend. I'm psyched. I'm also pondering a trip to London or Israel, depending entirely on scheduling and flight prices. What was once an $1100 ticket to Israel is now $1700. Bummer. Even England is over a grand now. I remember when flights to London could be had for under $500, and I'm not talking about the "Go to London for Three Days, Starting Tomorrow" deals.

Happy St. Patrick's day. My blog automatically qualifies as St. Paddy's day-friendly because it has green on it. All of the time. Every day. This was not planned.

I spent yesterday at the Greenville (no pun intended) Parade. Greenville is a street that runs north-south through Dallas. The city closes off a mile or so of Greenville every St. Patrick's day Saturday and holds a parade. There is also a concert. This year, Ghostland Observatory was the main act. I bought two tickets a few weeks but thereafter decided not to go. I just didn't feel like it. But my band's guitar player had also bought a ticket, and I really needed the fresh air, so I invited my singer and the three of us had band-bonding-day out in the sun.

Off we went traipsing through a sea of drunk green-clad partiers. The three of us were completely sober the whole time, so we got to laugh at all the drunkies falling all over the place. For some reason, there is something about me that compels strangers to ask me for directions, or advice, or guidance, on what the hell they should do and where they should be going. I'm certainly happy to oblige, but I get the feeling I'm always the guy people ask, "Hey, is this the right way to __________?"

The concert was good and we were all sufficiently sunburned. Especially me. It's mostly my face. When I wrinkle my forehead, it hurts. When I smile, it hurts. It's not pleasant.

I ended the night drinking Guinness with Evil I. I couldn't go through St. Paddy's day without having at least one pint of Guinness, so I figured three was a nice round number. Evil I and I talked about tables, music, engineering, lawyering, paint, traveling, sinks, and home-ownership. You shoulda been there.

Now that St. Paddy's is over, I don't want to see another green shirt for the rest of my life. Please. No more green. Anything that is green kind of annoys me now. The little Skype icon in my computer's tray is green. It annoys me. The forward and back buttons in Firefox are green. They annoy me. My website is kinda green. It annoys me. I think I just OD'd on green. Give me some time. I'll get over it.

I'm back home from Austin. It was a good trip. Max and Maya are the cutest and funniest kids I've ever seen. Maya likes to dance to radio stations on cable TV - especially KISS and Tears For Fears. Max likes to repeat whatever the adults say. My brother-in-law was feeding Max some macaroni when Max spontaneously announced: "No More Attitude." I guess it's something my sister and brother-in-law tell his older sister when she gets saucy.

Otherwise, I hung out and chilled with the fam. On Saturday afternoon, I did a fun thing I like to call "hill repeats." Find yourself one hill, or a set of hills, and ride your bike up and down until your lungs seize up and your legs fall off. Going 37 miles per hour down a hill is pretty thrilling, and kind of scary. Cranking back up the hill at four miles per hour, with no end in sight - not so thrilling. Regardless, it's a form of self-torture I find cleansing.

On Saturday night, my friend and his fiance made dinner for the three of us at their house and we drank wine and caught up. After his fiance went to bed, my friend and I watched a Bugatti race a fighter jet on You Tube. It was a nice and relaxing evening. Not to mention they gave me a bottle of wine - that they made and bottled themselves.

I'm off to Austin this weekend to see the kiddos, aka M&M aka Max and Maya aka my niece and nephew. It will be a good trip. I need a break. Work has been rough the past couple weeks. I inherited a monstrous case and it was my turn for it to overwhelm me, and overwhelmed I was. I might take my bike to ride around the beautiful hills around my sister's house. Outside is calling me. Clarity is calling me. I need to clear my head. There's a lot of crud in there and I'm hoping a change of scenery will help. I feel kind of broken. Maybe Austin can fix me.

Oh yeah, it snowed here in Dallas yesterday. I woke up and found an inch or two of snow on my car. Fun.

Happy weekend.

I've been told to stop posting about so-called "pocket lint," ie, things that one finds in one's pockets. I posted about the slip of paper I picked up in Cancun with a warning against swimming with dolphins. I posted about the receipt from The Flying Saucer (which, mind you, helped Mark from Atlanta find a cool pub to visit).

But just so that the person accusing me of blog misuse understands the person with whom he's dealing, I should mention that this blog has seen posts about dishwashers, thin walls, shower curtains, and broken power transformers. I think I have the right to post about pocket lint. When reading this blog, I think my readers have come to expect a sufficiently minimal amount of intellectual content to consider posts about pocket lint standard fare.

If I wasn't so comfortably sitting in my bed with my laptop, I'd get up and take an actual picture of pocket lint. But that would take too much work, so please imagine some pocket lint. Or stick your hands in your pockets and take a look at your own. We all have it. Pocket lint is the universal clothing accessory.

Now that I think about it, I may add a new post category: pocket lint.

My grandfather died on Valentine's Day. He was 83. He had lived through several heart surgeries and astounded every single doctor along the way. He was a miracle of science and determination. That's what you get when you deal with a former 25-year Marine that retired as a Major.

I'd like relate one story to you about my grandfather. This is probably what I will remember the most about him, so it's fitting for you to have as your one story about him. It conveys his character, his quirkiness, his values, and his sense of humor.

My grandfather had a system for giving his grandchildren birthday presents. Multiply your age by 7. That way, everyone was given proportionally equal gifts, and everyone knew what to expect. However, what Grandpa didn't mention was that the system would change once we reached a certain age. Somewhere in our late teens, he started giving us a single, crisp two-dollar bill for our birthdays. He suggested we leave the bills in our wallets at all times just in case we ever ran out of money and we needed a couple bucks.

Thanks to the wonderful technology of electronic payment devices (credit cards) I had no need to use my two-dollar bills. So they remained in my wallet, for years and years and years.

My aunt called on Valentine's Day and told me Grandpa had died. I was on a plane to Tampa four days later. We said goodbye to our grandfather with the Marines by his side. They shot the rifles. They gave my grandmother and my aunt each an American flag. They played Taps. We all cried.

I flew home the following morning at 6:50. Back in Dallas, bleary-eyed and numb, I hailed a taxi at the airport to take me home before heading straight to work. I looked in my wallet and noticed I probably had just enough to cover the ride and a tip. But we got stuck in traffic, and I looked in horror as I saw the fare go up and up.

By the time we got to my car, the fare was too high. I didn't have enough cash, and I didn't have time to drive around with the cabbie and find an ATM. Then I remembered the two-dollar bills Grandpa gave me. I pulled them out, gave them to the cabbie to make the fare, and got out of the car.

Grandpa, I used the two-dollar bills to get me home after I said goodbye to you for the last time. Did you know that's when I would use them? I carried them in my wallet for years, and pulled them out when I needed them. Thank you.

Once upon a time, I lived in San Antonio. I lived across the street from a great little pub called The Flying Saucer. I went to The Flying Saucer a few times per week. The waitresses at The Flying Saucer were generally kind of cute. As such, my friends and I made sure to hit on as many of these waitresses as we could. I even went out with one of them. Good times. Long story, that. Anyway, moving on.

Last week, I went digging in the pockets of a jacket I don't wear very often and I pulled out this receipt, almost exactly four years after I received it. After looking at the name, I realized that I have no recollection of Jillian-Marie, which means she may be the only Saucer waitress my friends and I didn't hit on. She was a lucky girl.

I therefore present you with this fossil, this ancient record, this snapshot into the life of a 24-year-old Particleman. On Monday, February 16, 2004, Particleman was likely recovering from a weekend of drunken nothingness and decided to go to the Saucer with his fellow apathetic workmates. He dined on chips and queso, Franzniskaner, and Young's Double Chocolate stout. Particleman then likely returned to his abode, having stumbled across the "street" separating his apartment complex from the pub, located his bed, and fell on it, waking up the next day in the same business casual attire he wore the day before. After a shower, and maybe a shave if he could bring himself to it, he dragged himself back to his cubicle, where he diligently worked on documenting the software documents and running the document website at the Massive Insurance Company.

This concludes our exploration of Particleman's social life, circa early 2004.

Dirty Maggie Mae played its first show at The Improv in Addison (north of Dallas) on January 22, 2008. We opened for a comedy show. It was a lot of fun and we did pretty well. More shows and open mics are on the way. I posted pictures on flickr.

In case you were curious, G and i got a hold of the setlist from the Flogging Molly concert last Sunday. If you want to check it out, here is the pdf.

In comparison to the last time I saw Flogging Molly, this show wasn't quite as good. The band seemed unnecessarily loud and their new songs sounded more mainstream then the old songs. There was more a pop vibe - a more friendly sound. I'm not surprised. Mainstream songs will allow them to appeal to wider audience. Hopefully, though, they won't lose sight of what made them unique.

You know you’ve reached a new level in your career when you receive an invitation to a training course that exclaims: “Walk the Red Carpet with the Stars of Criminal Defense!”

The scary thing is that part of me wants to go.

You know, it's funny. You come home from a long day at work and find that your shower looks kind of different, and then you remember that your landlord finally agreed to remove the nasty, rusty, grout-falling-out shower doors while you were away at work hunched over a desk in an office building. And you suddenly get too lazy to drive to Target to buy a shower rod and shower curtain.

Ford says it owns the copyrights to all pictures of its cars - even pictures owners take of their own cars. Link from Slashdot.

I played an acoustic set with my singer on Saturday at a venue in Dallas called The Hub Theater. We were the first act in a variety show featuring poetry readings, skits, and comedians. It was a lot of fun and I'm looking forward to gigs with the whole band. Our first show is on January 22nd at a comedy club in Dallas. We're the opening act.

Our set on Saturday consisted of:

Help
Norwegian Wood
Mother Nature's Son
Yesterday
Real Love
Don't Let Me Down

In case you forgot, yes, we are a Beatles cover band. Our set on the 22nd will consist of:

Come Together
Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds
While My Guitar Gently Weeps
Norwegian Wood
Mother Nature's Son
Yesterday
Julia
Don't Let Me Down
Eight Days A Week
Help (maybe)
Real Love (maybe)

I had a crazy weekend. Maybe not crazy according to Evil I's standards though, because he brushes his teeth with Mexican tap water and goes out with 22 year old girls. That's what I call crazy!

I hauled ass to Houston right after work on Friday and got in around 10 and went to straight to a bar, where I met up with some law school friends and John (he gets special mention becasue he's not "law school"). I then proceeded to get drunk. It's amazing what four pints of Harp will do when you have an empty stomach and you just sat in a car for four hours. Good times. After the hangover wore off Saturday morning, I realized I was completely congested and couldn't breathe. It seems I'm allergic to Houston.

After stopping by my parents' house to pick up a few things, my friend Megan and I went to a Jewish dining staple in Houston - the New York Hot Bagels Coffee Shop. I had bagels and lox (what else could I order?) and she had some kind of tuna salad thing. Megan is Catholic and loves learning about my Jewish-ness, so I had to show her a little bit of Jewish Houston. After that, we ran some thrilling errands - Bed, Bath, & Beyond and Target. I bought a new shower head and new towels. They rock. I had no idea towel-buying was so intense. Racks and racks of towels with varying degrees of softness. I'm happy with my purchase. My towels are amply soft, yet stylish.

I had dinner with a couple law school buddies at Barnaby's, which was fun. Then I went to another law school friend's party and schmoozed till 1 am - a truly late night indeed. I woke up this morning with that funny feeling you get when you're getting sick. I think I may be coming down with a sinus infection. Lucky me! Just in time for New Years Eve! With any luck I'll be hacking up gobs of gooeyiness in no time. Sorry for the unnecessary detail. I guess it's too late now though.

Getting back to the title of this post, I am about to leave town and head back to Dallas so i can catch the Ghostland Observatory show tonight with one of my workmates. I'm totally psyched. I saw this band at ACL and they were awesome. Totally unexpectedly good.

However, if I find any 22-year olds at the show, I may ask them out so I can live on the edge like Evil I. Details to come.

This space used to have a You Tube video of Regina Spektor playing John Lennon's "Real Love." It has somehow disappeared. So here's what we're going to have to do. Click this link to reach a Google list of You Tube videos and please watch one.

I played a prank on one of the women in the Accounting department last summer when I was an intern at the law firm. It was harmless and fun. I replaced her chair with an identical-looking reject I found at the office that happened to have a broken hydraulic lift resulting in the chair's sinking to the bottom of its height adjustment as soon as it was sat on. I also switched everything around on her desk so that anything that was on the right side was in its corresponding place on the left side. As a result of this move, I gained a reputation as something of a prankster in the office. This was not my intention, though I am not necessarily surprised.

For Christmas, one of the gifts my managing attorney gave me was rather peculiar. She gave me a prank kit of 12 pranks. I can't decide if she's condoning my prankish behavior or challenging me to apply it, perhaps on her. At either rate, she already blew my cover by giving me a box of pranks in front of the entire firm. Of course our firm's gift exchange was done with the entire firm present (there are only about 15 of us) so everyone knows that I am now in possession of a prank kit.

At either rate, I might use the boxed pranks as diversions for more sinister pranks. No one is safe.

I went to Austin this weekend for my Dad's birthday. My folks drove in to Austin and we all met up at my sister's house. We went to The Cheesecake Factory for lunch on Sunday and we brought the kids with us. Maya (4) and Max (2) were in full effect in the restaurant. Max busted out with a toy fuel-tanker truck that looked awfully familiar. It was emblazoned with the brand "HESS" which no longer makes gasoline, so I was wondering how my sister managed to get him a Hess truck. At that moment, my dad said, "You know where that truck comes from, right?" I answered no. He responded, "That was your truck. And those were your dinosaurs. We kept all of your toys, and they're Max's."

That was the coolest feeling. To know that my toys had survived all these years in some box in my parent's attic and were now passed on to my nephew really gave me the warm fuzzies.

At the exact moment this thought occurred to me, Max became possessed by a spontaneous and apparently uncontrollable urge to release the truck from his grip and send it on a direct crash course with the marble floor, thus permanently freeing the rear axles from the body of the truck.

Eh, it was just a plastic toy. Oh well. My dad thinks he can glue it back together. He can usually fix anything.

I was checking email on my blackberry this week while walking and I saw an open elevator door. I went for it, expecting the guy in the elevator to hold the doors for me. He didn't. I smacked my shoulder straight into the door and it almost knocked me to the ground (I guess I walk fast?) You know how sometimes door frames jump out and hit you in the shoulder? It was a little like that, except the door frame was moving. And the best part was that I hit my right shoulder, which nicely complimented the strain on the right side of my neck. Pretty soon I'll need to wrap myself in bubble wrap. I'll become the bubble boy. As long as my blackberry gets service in the bubble, that's ok with me.

I almost forgot to wish you all a Happy Happy Chanukkah. Tonight is the sixth night, so don't forget to light your candles (if you are so inclined).

In other news, I have been the sad victim of yet another one of my infamous neck strains. I seem to have a habit of pulling the muscles that connect my neck, shoulders, and back together all at once. It normally happens when I get stressed out over something and crane my neck in the shower because the shower head is too low. It happened during finals last semester. It happened while I was studying for the bar too. Just ask my classmates. I walked around like I was wearing an imaginary neck brace. The strain makes it painful for my to tilt my head upwards. Most of the pain is in my right shoulder and the right side of my neck. Just lifting up a drink with my right hand causes pain. Thankfully, I also have a left hand, so I can still drink.

Tonight I am very excited to lie down on my heating pad. My parents have had it since the 70s (and you can tell). It's awesome. I lay it on the pillow and rest the sore part of my neck on the heating pad. It's almost as good as a massage.

That I am posting about neck pains and heating pads is testament to how lame my life has become. For those of you wondering how Particleman is fairing in his newly adopted city, you now have the scoop. Neck pain, heating pads, and drinking. And Chanukkah.

Oh wait - one more thing. Remember that Beatles band I talked about a few months ago? We finally recruited a lead guitarist and drummer. Our first show is January 14th at a comedy club. We're an opening act. We're playing some old stuff and newer stuff.

We're three, we're three were three in the dark tonight
And baby my snake is a shark tonight

-Kiss Kiss by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs

The best part is how she says "shark." It's part sung, part whispered.

While we're on the topic of Mexico, and fake cities, I was fishing around in my wallet the other day and found the following slip of paper I picked up at one of the hotels Pajama Grrl, Evil I, and I stayed at while in Cancun. It said (yes, in caps):

SI UD NADA CON DELFINES, CONTRIBUYE A QUE MUCHOS MUER DURANTE SU CAPTURA

The English translation said:

IF YOU SWIM WITH DOLPHINS, YOU CONTRIBUTE TO MANY OF THEM DIE DURING THE CAPTURE

I'd like to reiterate that this message came in a handy, portable medium, capable of being folded up, placed in a pocket or wallet, and retrieved later additional consultation. You know, in case you forgot what it said.

It's always fun when you have a party and people bring over alcohol and leave it in your fridge/freezer/bathroom. Take, for instance, the bottle of Becherovka liqour from the Czech Republic I found in my freezer. I had no idea what it was when I found it. It looked like vodka, but I wasn't brave enough to take a swig of a bottle with writing I couldn't read. Turns out it's a general mixer and herbal recipe with an alcohol content of 38%. I have no idea who brought it or what they drank it with (if anything). All I know is that there is a green bottle of this stuff in my freezer and I'm going to give it a try tonight. Hooray for party favors.

In other news, it seems The Evil I will be leaving us. Well, not really. He'll be working in Mexico for his same company for two months. He'll still have an internet connection so I hope he will grace us with his presence and tell us about his new life. I'm sure it will involve a lot of the same things it does now, except without the BMW, the condo, or the having to sit in an office. I think it's a good trade-off.

Thank you, Evil I. Yes, I did pass my silly lawyer test. And thank goodness. It was kind of important, and yes, I was drunk most of the weekend.

In other news, I turned 28 last week. Almost forgot to tell you. The past couple weeks have been a little nuts whatwith my birthday and the whole silly lawyer test results things.

And guess who's going to see Regina Spektor on Thursday? Me and Girl, who we will call G, because her name happens to start with G, which is convenient. I wanted to propose to Regina at the concert, but that might not be the best idea since G will be there and all. She would probably put the kaibosh* on that. Either way, I'm really excited. I'm hoping Regina plays Dusseldorf. It's become my favorite song of hers. I also managed to hook some people at work on Regina and they are going to the show as well. I think Regina should move to Dallas so we can start a band. A punk band. Can you see it? I can. I bet she'd be all about a punk band.

* More info here.

I saw Interpol with a coworker the other week and it was everything I expected. They were good, really good. Maybe too good? They didn't miss a note and the sound was fantastic. Those guys can write some interesting songs. I notice that as they move through their career, their songs take on a more dynamic quality - more stops/starts, breakdowns, melodic layerings, vocal solos, and drum riffs that depart from the usual rock beats.

The only weird thing was that they hardly moved during the show, and neither did the people in the audience. I realize an Interpol show isn't exactly a punk show, but it does qualify as rock, and rock music generally makes people move. I suppose Interpol fans are too cool for school to rock out at a live show. But when Interpol played their harder songs and the only "rocking out" I saw consisted of some head-bobbing, I starter to wonder if Interpol fans might need to loosen up a little. Regardless, it was a good show.

Oh, and as for their opener, The Liars, I hesitate to call them an "opener." I also hesitate to call them a "band." Bloc Party once sarcastically described their band in the third-person by saying, "They do everything that's required to conform to the currently received ideas of what a band is: ostensibly to play instruments at the same time, but also have a title for the work created." While this is funny for Bloc Party, it is not funny for The Liars, because The Liars did not really play their instruments at the same time. At least the melodies did not seem to go together at the same time. Maybe they did in some alternate universe. I'm actually not sure there were melodies. I do know that air molecules were moving in wave formation, because I heard their terrible noise and felt it in my chest. Other than that, I was not able to discern any patterns, ideas, or musical structures.

In other news, I downloaded the new Radiohead album. I gave them $10, or $1 per song. I think that's fair. It's what iTunes would have charged. Did anyone else out there buy it?

Ever seen a 6'2" mustachioed guy in tight, rolled up jeans and no shirt don a red wig and red heels? Well, then you need to go see Gogol Bordello. I can say with confidence that you will never see anything else like it. The music, the show, the energy, the atmosphere. Every bit of that show was unique and special and completely insane.

I had some stomach issues this weekend but I went out anyway on Sunday to see the show with my old friend and fellow bike geek El Raymundo. My stomach felt a little queasy but it held up for the duration of the show. Thankfully The Granada has an upstairs balcony area that was significantly less crowded and free from the mass of pogoing hipsters. I would have gladly joined those bouncing masses, but my stomach would not allow it. It looked like a party down there.

Consistent with my new role as bass player in a Beatles band, I ordered this bass. It should be coming in the mail today. It's a replica of 1962 Fender Jazz Bass, and even though it's neither a 1962 nor a Fender, it looks the part and was way cheaper than a Fender!

But i finally added a new post category: geek. See the previous three posts. I probably should have done this when I started the blog way back when. Call it laziness. All geeks are lazy by nature.

In other news, happy weekend! I have to go outside now. It's 76 degrees outside. I think Fall just got here.

I installed OpenOffice. Hooray for free software! It's not as slick as MS Office 2007 (or 2003), but it gets the job done.

If you have no idea what I'm talking, go here.

Coolest shirt, ever.

It's been a long time since I've been to San Antonio. I promised my friends there many times I would come visit, but alas, law school and work continually got in the way. Well, last weekend, I finally made good on my promise. I caught a flight down to San Antonio (aka SA aka Saytown) on Friday and hung out with all my old friends.

Friday found us at Blue Star Brewery for First Friday, which is a monthly art, music, and food extravaganza held in South Town, an area of San Antonio south of Downtown. After beer and dinner at Blue Star, we stumbled over to Beethoven's for Oktoberfest, where my friend consumed yet more beer and I got to play DD, which was fine by me because I wanted to see her have a good time (read: get drunk... friends are always funnier when drunk). Her friends also met us at Blue Star and were thoroughly entertaining. They tried to use my lawyering skills to sue each other. I got to explain the difference between assault and battery. I hope I got it right.

On Saturday, we had lunch with the infamous Skorloff and his Girl at Liberty Bar, which is really half-bar, half-restaurant. We got to learn about British toast soldiers and humpty dumpty, and Skorloff and I had Guinness for lunch. Good times. After that, we visited the Skorloff-Girl residence and I marveled at all the progress he's made on the house in the last three years. I think it mostly has to do with the addition of Girl, and the contractor Skorloff hired.

Then we went to a football party to watch the Texas Longhorns lose a great football game. Good job guys! I forgot that the object of football is turn the ball over to the other team as many times as possible. I'm glad you cleared that up for us.

After loafing around for a while, we got off our collective asses and went bowling with some other folks I hadn't seen since I left SA in 2004. They reassured me nothing had changed since I left. That was good to know. So, when are you moving???

I discovered two important and profound things while bowling that night. First: bowling with a beer in one hand will improve your performance. Second: bowling with your non-dominant hand will also improve your performance. Net result? If you're right-handed, hold a beer in your right hand and bowl with your left. I promise your score will go up.

Everyone slept in Sunday morning and we ate lunch at Twin Sister's, which is kind of like Liberty Bar, except with less alcohol and more breakfast. I caught a three o'clock flight and was sped off back to Dallas just in time to chill out at home for a little while and head to band practice at six.

It was a fun and crazy weekend and I had a great time. Thanks again to the coolest girls in San Antonio for driving me around and playing host for a weekend. You are both welcome in Dallas any time.

Apologies for the dearth of posts lately. I have been a busy particle. But before I write my post on the Interpol and Bad Religion shows (yes, I saw Bad Religion. I can die happy now), I need to tell you about this: Radiohead is giving away their new album. They are letting the buyer decide how much to pay. I think all you have to pay is the credit card processing fee of 90 cents.

Yes, other bands have done this kind of thing before, but never a band as popular as Radiohead. And that part is important. Their popularity means they have a lot to lose. A band that is not so popular has less to lose since the fan base is smaller and fewer people would be buying the album and the forgone revenue would not exist. For Radiohead, they stand to lose, or gain, a lot. If it works, they will have proved a point that has been a long time in the making: music does not need record labels. The record label is no longer a necessary part of the music distribution and marketing process. They weren't necessary to begin with. After all, they didn't always exist. The only purpose I see labels serving now is as more of a "music club." Bands can join together and help fans find new bands, thus helping to give smaller bands more exposure by associating with similar bands.

Bands can rent their own studio time, hire their own engineers, pay for their own mixing and disc pressing, do their own marketing via a website, and open an online shop. No need for the label. All you need is money and some organizational skills. If a band has those two things, there is no need for a record contract. The label is an unnecessary middle man.

What's also interesting about the Radiohead deal is the lack of an iTunes affiliation. None of the articles I've read mention iTunes. Did Radiohead ignore iTunes altogether? If so, it could be proof that even iTunes should examine its role in music distribution, or perhaps lower its prices.

Either way, I'm very happy Radiohead took this risk. It's one step towards taking music out of the hands of record labels and putting it back into the hands of artists. Record contracts and record company desires are not conducive to the creation of good music. Good music is what we want. Musicians who own the rights to their art is what we want. Contractual obligations and creative restrictions do not help either of those goals. The issue is that record companies, unlike bands, are not artistic endeavors. They are business enterprises. Art and business, by their nature, do not always mix well. Free one from the other and both would probably prosper more.

For reference, you can check out this guide to recording contracts. It makes me want to buy an Entertainment Law textbook and read up on music industry contract basics.

It's pretty good. I thought and thought and thought about the best way to describe it. Instead of writing some long, drawn-out album review like I usually do, I will say only this:

The new Interpol album sounds like Joy Division, The Cure, and Radiohead packed into one band, and then doused with a bucket of music comprised of The Doors’ The End and The Crystal Ship.

Whether that does anything for you is beyond me, but that's how I felt. I could say more from a technical standpoint (like "these guys are still addicted to reverb" and "all of the songs are in minor keys"), but I won't. And lucky me, I get to see Interpol tomorrow night. Report to follow...

If you remember way back to when The Evil I was Dallas Guy, I posted an entry of an instant messenger chat I had with Evil I about his issues with Dallas, work, women, and life in general. It sounded to me like he really needed to move out of Dallas. So we threw around the usual ideas. Sell all your shit and move to Europe. Or hell, even Canada. It's not that far, yet is completely different than Dallas (or America, for that matter). Or you could always head for Central America, South America, or Asia. Maybe Australia? The options are endless. Evil I is an engineer and is fluent in two languages (besides English). He could probably get a job anywhere.

So where does he decide to go? Israel. Well, not quite decide, but he's been talking about it. His rationale is that he already speaks the language, he won't have any issues with finding Jewish women, the job market for someone in his field and his education is pretty welcoming, and it's generally a fun place. If you ask me, I think it's a bad idea. Of all the places he chooses, he chooses a country fraught with turmoil? A place where people blow themselves up? A place that Syria and Iran like pointing their missiles at? No thanks. I'd rather go to Canada. It's closer, safer, there are Jews (and thus Jewish women) there, and they probably have those cool accents too.

But another thing we should all keep in mind is that Evil I likes to talk. He gets lots of half-brained ideas, starts working on them, and then gets distracted with something else. I'm not putting too much stock in this Israel thing. Maybe it will pan out. Maybe it won't. Either way (if you ever meet him, his favorite thing to say is "Either way"), he'll get my full support with whatever he decides.

And hey man, if you do go to Israel and find a woman, can you make sure she has friends? Friends that like tall nerdy Americans? With blogs? That would be great. Thanks.

Ah, ACL. Three days of music, sun, and walking. My story of ACL will sound kind of like Pajama Grrl's, but different, and longer, and more guy-oriented. Would you expect anything less?

First of all, I have to thank all of the beautiful women prancing around in minimal clothing. Thank you. You totally made the weekend. The music was great and all, but the scenery was what kept me going when I thought I just couldn't stand in a hot, sweaty crowd for one more minute. Because at that exact moment, some bikini-top wearing hottie would show up next to me and make everything ok.

Second of all, I must disagree with what Pajama Grrl said about Regina. She was very entertaining and certainly not boring. Though PG is entitled to her opinion (as misinformed as it may be), I think PG is forgetting that Regina is a solo pianist. There is no band. And she's not Ben Folds - ie, she will not pound on the piano (too much) and scream. I'm not sure if PG has seen performances like those of Tori Amos, but a solo-piano performance isn't necessarily designed to be exciting in the same way as a rock band. I thought Regina was great. Granted, I like her anyway. But I was excited to see her reproducing the songs, the vocal inflections, the emotion, and the vibe that she transmits on her records. She drew the audience into her world, and that is what makes a good performance. She also played some lesser-known songs, so I was glad to see her avoiding a set that consisted of only her pop singles.

One last thing about Regina. She held a one-hour autograph session that I got to 45 minutes early just to make sure I didn't have to wait in line forever. It was a good plan. The line was HUGE. It had to have been two hundred people. All I wanted was a picture with her, but since there were too many people, we were only allowed to give her one item to sign and then we had to move along. No posing for pictures with her, no conversations, no holding up the line. Because all i wanted was a picture, I did not have my album covers with me, and thus had nothing for her to sign. So I did what any self-respecting male would do. I took my clothes off. Before I got to the signing table, I took my shirt off for Regina to sign. It was my favorite shirt, and now it is now my extra-favorite shirt. You can check out the pic below. Thank you, Regina, for signing my sweaty Batman shirt. I guess I can't wash it ever again. And since I will be seeing Regina in Dallas in November, maybe I can get her to sign my chest too. But I'd have to shave a spot for her first. (Sorry, TMI).

The other highlights of the weekend included Muse, Ghostland Observatory, and Common. Muse, as usual, was jaw-droppingly awesome. They are so awesome that any effort at describing their awesomeness is utterly useless. I thought they were good ACL last year, but since the White Stripes canceled, Muse took over the top spot on Saturday night. Their show was intense and flawless. They gave it everything. I can't believe that the singer, who is not a big guy at all, can produce a voice like that. I don't know where it comes from.

The singer also switched between guitar and piano mid-song, showing us his mad piano skills. Their set spanned all of their records and each song was performed as if they had just written it and it was fresh on their minds. I really can't recall the last band that performed with such fury. Muse rocks. Comparisons to Radiohead are totally inaccurate. If any comparisons must be made, make one to Nirvana. This band rocks like no other band I've seen in a long time, and it's not a punk-rock rock or metal rock - there is no punk-rock frustration or metal negativity. It's the perfect kind of rock.

Ghostland Observatory was a total surprise. I didn't know what to expect. I still don't know what to expect. I'm speechless. It's a crazy mix of dance, electronica, disco, and hip hop. You have to hear to believe it. Better yet, you have to SEE it to believe. Their light show was ridiculous. Check out the vids below.

Common was a last minute sub for Rodrigo y Gabriela. They owned their time slot. The crowd went wild for them. They took a volunteer woman from the audience and basically serenaded her. She melted on stage. Literally, we saw her quiver in her sandals when the singer held her and sang to her. It was great.

On the not-so-cool side, The Killers were a total let down. I opted to see them instead of Bjork, and what a mistake that was. The Killers were all flash and no substance. The songs sounded mechanical and the musicians stood around and didn't move. I think the bass player might have been sleeping. Only the drummer showed signs of life, but that comes with the territory. And I reconfirmed my dislike of the new album. Verdict: if you're thinking of shelling out $30-40 for a Killers show, go see Muse instead. The Muse show (lighting, video screen, etc) was just as cool, and they rock so much more and the music is so much more intricate.

The National were also not impressive. The songs sounded the same, and the singer didn't sing so much as moan. But I can see where they found their niche, and I'm happy they found it. It's just not my niche.

And no, I did not see Bob Dylan. I know he changed the face of music and that skipping his show might be seen as sacrilegious by many musicians and music fans. But I don't like him. Never have, even though he influenced almost all of the bands I like from that era. I was tired, my feet hurt, my legs hurt, my head hurt. I had just come from an awesome Ghostland Observatory show, and I still had to make the three-hour drive back to Dallas. I decided to end the weekend on high note and skip out a little early. So off I drove, still shirtless from my Regina encounter, and covered in a lawyer of dirt and sweat. But happy. Very, very happy.

Pics are here. I only took my camera on the last day because I'm too lazy to take pictures, which means the only pics I got are of Regina Spektor and Ghostland Observatory.

Ghostland Observatory - video 1 (3.8 MB)
Ghostland Observatory - video 2 (5.4 MB)
Ghostland Observatory - video 3 (3.0 MB)

I'm still working on my official ACL recap. Until I'm done with it, here is something to hold you over. Can you guess what it is, besides a worn out Batman symbol?

These are texts i've saved or have gotten in the past. I've been compiling this list for a while. NOTE: this post is kind of dirty... relatively speaking. I put an asterisk here and there to avoid getting too much of the wrong kind of traffic (and spam comments).

Idea stolen from Sara B.

Oh no too much cyber s*x?

Do you need it today or will tonight work?

Boot camp bitch.

You are awesome even in your jewish ness.

Am i google?

You bad boy.

I am on the plane stuck between some old lady that wont shut up and dumb jocks that wont stop giggling and my ipod broke last night. God hates me.

P*ssy.

You don't want your Israeli princess slutting out.

I dont want another gay friend. i have reached capacity. go team *** job!

Survived my first prick encounter.

I will pay you back in snobby beer.

What is the difference between a jewish woman and a christian woman? Christian women have real orgasms and fake jewelery.

It is madness here.

Thank you captain obvious.

Christ compels you!

I have a confession. I joined a band. It may or may not be a cover band, that may or may not be a Beatles cover band, that may or may not be fronted by a female vocalist who plays the flute and has a wonderful voice, and we may or may not be twisting the songs into our own interpretations of rock, jazz, funk, blues-rock, and folk numbers. We also may or may not have a name yet, and we may or may not still be in the formative stages of our existence.

However, no other details are available.

You know, I thought living without internet is bad. Living without a microwave, well, that's a whole nother story. It really sucks when you make a huge batch of spaghetti with meat sauce planning to eat it over the next two days, and on day two, you realize you cannot reheat any of your spaghetti. It's kind of a bummer. Hot spaghetti is a lot better than cold spaghetti. I guess I'll just have to warm the spaghetti on the stove. Lame ancient technology.

In other news, I test drove three cars today, for the hell of it. I drove an Infinity G37 (the coupe). It had plenty of power and was very luxurious. But it also had so much techno-wizardry that it felt like a space ship. And the salesmen told me that the aluminum trim in the interior wasn't just any old aluminum, it was special aluminum from Japan made from rice. Wow. I give a shit why?

Then I drove the new Volvo C30 which I have been lusting over forever. I was totally let down. It did not feel Volvo-ish at all. It felt very plasticky. It is being marketed as a sporty car and the handling was not sporty at all. Cornering in the C30 did not inspire confidence. Maybe getting the "sport" package would help. But by the time you add that package and some other col options, you're looking at a $30,000 car, and that's asking a bit much for a two-door "intro-level" car.

Then, for grins, I drove a Dodge Charger, with a V8 HEMI!!! If it's power you want, the Charger will not leave you wanting more. I barely tapped the pedal and the car growled at me and flew. It is big and heavy and fast as hell. Ironically, it is also very usable. The V8 cuts itself in half and runs on four cylinders when cruising over 60 to save gas. Very handy. The trunk was also huge, which is useful for people like me with bulky musical equipment. If you want a simple sedan that will blow anyone else away, yet still get good gas mileage, check out this car. Don't expect it to be nimble, though.

Despite all this, I was still reminiscing about Evil I's BMW, and I am sadly still jonesing for one myself. They are so typical and yuppie and costly to maintain, but the drive is worth it. I'll take the stigma.

I was happy to discover that my newly-adopted city has a Jersey Mike's Subs. I ate at Jersey Mike's three times per week while studying for the Bar and never got sick of it. They slice the deli meat right there in front of you! None of that sitting in a plastic tray business. I think they are the best subs I've ever had.

Oh yeah, and what also makes me happy is that US Attorney General Alberto Gonzales resigned. It pains me because he is a native Texan and the first Hispanic AG, but he was one shady mofo. I'm sure that once all the dust settles, he will have a comfortable life of giving speeches and teaching law school courses. Not bad if you ask me.

I'm back from my trip. Turns out we didn't go to Boston. We went to Cambridge, which is close enough if you ask me. It was essentially a trade show combined with seminars given by experts in the field. And by trade show, I mean that I sat at a booth with a marketing person from my firm and met all kinds of intelligent and interesting people, some of whom are on the cutting edge of the industry. The industry I'm talking about is the information security and privacy industry, i.e., the protection of your personal information as it is held by financial institutions and other companies that might get access to your personal info.

I met computer security professors from George Washington University, law professors from the John Marshall School Of Law, VPs from AIG, directors from Shell, attorneys from USAA, security people from Microsoft, so on and so forth. It was incredible. I had a really good time.

Now for the weird stuff. I went to a pub with my colleague and bought us beer at the counter. I made a motion to sit at a table, and the bartender said, "You can't sit at a table if you buy beer at the counter." What? What kind of stupid-ass rule is that? Aren't I spending money regardless? I offer to buy food at the table, and the bartender acquiesces. My colleague and I pick a table which could seat four or five people. There are only two of us, however. Right after we sit down, a waitress approaches us and says, "If it's just the two of you, you can't sit there, you have to sit at a smaller table." What the &#%@!!! Can we please drink our beers in peace! Fine. We go to a smaller table for two.

After a while, I get word from my boss that she's coming by to have a drink with us. Her client meeting had ended. I drag an empty table over to ours to make room for her, at which point our new waitress says, "Why did you do that, do you have more people coming?" No, I just like having extra space for my imaginary friends. Can't you see them? YES, more people are coming. She asks how many. Ugh! "Two," I tell her. Turns out it was only one, but screw it, I don't give a damn by this point. Oh yeah, and I didn't think much of their quesadillas either, but that was to be expected. Hell, we were in Massachusetts. I will not name this particular pub to save it from any embarrassment. If you want to know, post a comment and leave your email address.

That was the not-so-great service experience. The good service experience came from a burger joint called Charlies Kitchen (no, it doesn't have an apostrophe before the 's'). Our waitress was 78 years old and had worked there for 45 years. She was a sweetheart and totally entertaining, but unfortunately their iced tea was not that sweet. In fact, it tasted a little like cough syrup. But my colleague and I bought T-shirts nonetheless. For the record, we got the signature double cheeseburger. Get it. The fries are good too.

Overall, I found the trip a success. We met some great people, possibly got some new clients, learned a lot about the industry, and gained more exposure for our firm. Mission accomplished.

To pre-empt some questions: no, I did not have any chowder. No, I did not pick up a Boston accent. Yes, I did visit Harvard but was not that impressed (sorry, the grounds were kind of lame). Yes, I did go to the Harvard Co-op, which they strangely call The Coop. Those crazy New Englanders.

I'm going to Boston for work for a couple days. It's only my second time in Boston and I'm really excited. I had a great time last time I was there.

In other news, I went to an 80's party on Saturday night and I have great pictures of my outfit. Or rather, Evil I has pictures. I think. Someone took pictures of me in that sweet turquoise blazer...

I did. Just to remind you of why you need to buy some too:

I'm taking a vacation from my vacation. I forgot how totally exhausting vacations can be. Well, this was one wasn't that exhausting. I did log a good 30 hours of beach time, which basically equates to sitting under an umbrella sipping on mojitos. It was good. Much needed. I also turned into something of a tri-color version of myself. Some was my usual pasty white, some was burned, some was tan. I'm not telling you which part was which.

As for retelling the story of the vacation, so much happened during the course of those seven days that I can't really remember it all and I'm having a hard time figuring out how to recount the trip.

Ok, the real reason I can't remember it all is that the sun or the alcohol beat all memory capability out of me. We all got kind of loopy after a while. I do remember a few things though.

- The seafood was excellent. I spent the whole week eating fish and shrimp.
- Mexicans like their mojitos really sweet. There was a cache of sugar at the bottom of every one (more so than usual).
- My tolerance for alcohol has sadly gone up.
- Mexican women are gorgeous. I think I want one.
- Aussies, Israelis, Brits, Italians, and Germans love Mexico. They were everywhere.
- Restaurant owners assumed my friends and I were Israeli, and first spoke to us in Hebrew instead of English. Evil I does look kind of Israeli (he's brown). Thankfully, Evil I and I do speak Hebrew, so we were able to correct the mistaken restauranteurs.
- When I spoke to members of the public, a mix of English, Spanish, and Hebrew came out.
- In case you forgot, "C" on the shower knob stands for "calor," not cold.
- If you get a Mexican cabbie on coke, hold on tight. Try closing your eyes for extra fun.
- Seat belts are kind of pointless because you'd probably rather die in the accident than get sent to a hospital.
- Bus drivers drive like they're in a small compact car.
- Taking a bus is always more fun than taking a cab.
- It helps to know the CEO of a nightclub on the Cancun strip.
- White sand and turquoise water are intoxicating.

More memories may trickle in over the coming days. Who knows what's rolling around up there.

I start the job on Monday. I'm excited. My boss will apparently be out of town for my whole first week, so that should make things interesting. Oh yeah, and some fun facts about my apartment (a duplex): When we arrived, there were no numbers on the house, so I wandered around for 20 minutes before I found the place. The dishwasher did not work. The previous occupant felt a minimal need to clean before moving out. The back door did not lock. My shower drain did not drain. The smoke detectors were simply decoration. But everything is slowly getting fixed and our landlord is great, and the apartment itself is spacious and nice. Pajama Grrl and I are happy. No, PJ and I are not dating. Get those dirty ideas out of your head.

I'm in Isla Mujeres off the coast of Cancun with Pajama Grrl and Evil I and we're having a blast. the water really is as blue as the pictures. We rented mo-peds to ride around the island yesterday and it resulted in a spectacular crash by yours truly. I clearly have no concept of how to regulate speed on a motorized two wheeled vehicle. I'm not even that great at regulating speed on a non-motorized two wheeled vehicle, to be honest.

The first problem was that my scooter kept stalling on me, so they gave me a new one. By the time the new one was fueled up and ready to go, my friends had already ridden off, so i hauled ass to catch up with them, found myself on a sandy road and accidentally gunned the throttle instead of pulling the brakes. You see, i have a habit of twisting the grips on my bike when riding, so when i twisted the grips on the scooter, it did exactly the opposite of what i wanted it to do. When i realized i had speed up and thay i was heading right for a parked go-kart, i turned the wheel and slammed on the brakes, thus causing the rear wheel to depart from its normal course and slide away from beneath me, sending me right-shoulder first to the ground.

It was glorious. Yes, i was wearing a helmet. But I was also wearing shorts and sandals, so my leg and toes are pretty torn up. Thankfully, i didn't lose a toenail.

But now that i have gotten the hang of riding motorized two wheeled vehicles, i kind of want a motorcycle...

Next on the agenda: more beer, more beach, more Mexican food, and more Neosporin to help my cuts heal.

I don't live in Houston anymore. It feels a little wierd saying that. I live in Dallas now. I still feel like I'm just visiting, or I'm only here for the summer, or that I'm just here for the week. It's odd. Dallas isn't new to me, but it isn't completely familiar either. But it's good. I needed a change. I'm excited. I don't start work till the 20th, so between now and then, I will be hanging out, getting settled, and drinking on a beach in Mexico. I really need to decompress. I also plan on making a trip down to San Antonio to see some friends, so if you're in SA, plan to see me in mid-August. Mark your calendar or PDA or whatever.

I'm at the Apple Store checking email right now. My roomie and I don't have internet yet and it feels kind of cool. I like it. For now. But I'm sure I'll start going crazy soon enough. We'll probably sign up when we get back from Mexico. I'm sure Pajama Grrl, Evil I, and I will have some good stories for you when we get back. Till then.

Last night was my last "night out" in Houston. I invited pretty much everyone I know in Houston, and if I missed anyone, I was hoping the ones I got would spread the word. It was a good time. I got really drunk, but not stupid-sloppy three-sheets to the wind drunk. I even shot tequila - something I reserve for special occasions (like waking up in the morning). (Just kidding).

Last night was one of those nights when your various pockets friends finally meet. You know what I mean. You have friends that have never met, but whom you talk about with your other friends. So you end up talking about people you know with other people you know, who don't know those first people (get all that?) Basically, my worlds were colliding.

In other news, packing sucks. I have way too many books. And I'll be giving away like six pairs of shoes I haven't worn in a year. I have no idea why I have these shoes. They were probably on sale and I felt compelled to buy them. Damn sales. Damn effective marketing strategies.

I move to Dallas Wednesday. I'll be moving in with my new roomie Pajama Grrl. No, PJ and I are not dating. Anyone getting ideas can just kill those ideas. However, she might catch a glimpse or two of my manly hairiness. I like walking around in my boxers. I bet I just created a wonderful image in all of your respective minds.

Some of the dreams I've had lately, likely resulting from the stress and insanity of the Bar (more on that Bar thing later):

Dream 1

I'm in a physics class taught by none other than an aged Samuel L. Jackson. He has long gray hair and he's wearing a lab coat. We had a homework assignment. One of the problems (#30) was particularly difficult. It asked: "Is there any way to be in two places at the same time?" Dr. Jackson asked, "Did that question drive you guys crazy or WHAT! Who has an answer for me?" A tall-ish girl stood up and said, "I have an answer. You can be in more than one place at the same time as long as your presence is only known by one all-powerful being at a time." Meaning, I suppose, you can be in more than one place at a time as long as for each place that you are, only one all-powerful being (God?) knows that you are there. Maybe this is possible because you could be in separate universes, each of which has its own all-powerful being? Who knows.

Dream 2

I arrived at my apartment after being gone all week and everything is gone. The structure has been mostly dismantled. All that remains is the frame of my little garage apartment. I walk around the remnants wondering what the hell went wrong and where my stuff is. I find that most of my belongings are in a gigantic hole next to my apartment. At that moment, I find a strange middle-aged woman giving me dirty looks. I ask what happened. She looked at me incredulously as if I should know. She didn't speak English (or perhaps couldn't talk), so she directed me towards a small piece of wall that remained on my apartment where she had apparently scribbled her response to my same question asked by someone else. I guess someone else had asked where the hell my apartment had gone.

She scratched out a few things and modified the previous response (which was in English) to help answer my question, and I gathered that my landlord was no longer the landlord, that I had a new landlord, that she (this woman) was a tenant of the new landlord, and that I had not paid my rent. I argued that I had paid my rent to my old landlord and she looked surprised. She shrugged and walked off to her apartment, which appeared to be underground down a flight of dingy carpeted stairs whose white walls were covered with various markings.

Those are just two of my dreams. There have been other strange ones, but those are the only ones i can remember clearly.

As for the Bar, the new rule I'm following with myself and my friends is that I will not talk about the Bar. It was too stressful, too difficult, and too long. I'm glad it's over and I hope I never have to do it again. If you plan on taking it any time soon, let me know, and I will tell you everything you need to know.

Your job between the hours of 8 and 4 on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday of this week is to pray as hard as you can to whatever deity or force that strikes your fancy that I do not f*ck up on the Bar exam. Your other job is to send any positive brain activity going on in your head to the Palmer Events Center in Austin, TX.

If you happen to be in Austin on Thursday night and you want to get a drink, find the nearest drinking establishment to Palmer and there I shall be.

I have never felt like i knew so much about the law than i do now, and yet i have never felt so unprepared for a test. For anyone considering law school, please reconsider. I haven't slept in three? four? weeks. I don't even remember graduating. I don't know what day of the week it is when i wake up most mornings. Eating is the highlight of my day. Well, eating has always been the highlight of my day, but now it's, like, my sole purpose. I was put here to eat and study law. Or maybe it's eat law.

My classmate today really summarized it well. I said that my brain was like a shelf: for every piece of information i put on the shelf, another piece falls off. He said, "Shelf? SHELF? I only have a ledge. Screw shelf." You heard it here first. Screw shelf.

I'M PG BITCHES!!! Those fucking fucks down at the blog rating agency have their heads too far up their asses to know what the fuck is going on. Fuckers.

Anyway, for July 4th, I celebrated by NOT studying. I drank beer with friends, watched Pirates 2 (mediocre) and Boondock Saints (excellent), and watched the fireworks. It was a good day.

And I also said FUCK a lot.

I've been studying at Rice University's Fondren Library the past few weeks and finally got around to walking around the giant courtyard in front of the library. While on a stroll (study notes in hand) the other day, I stumbled upon this inscription on the side of the Physics and Astronomy lecture hall.

I asked my mom what it means because I can't read Hebrew without vowels. It says: "He who respects knowledge is respected." So to all my fellow bar-studiers out there - RESPECT KNOWLEDGE AND THOU SHALT BE RESPECTED.

Hey, if you had to study a book called "The Texas Procedure/Evidence Workshop," you'd need a beer too. Especially one with an alcohol content of 7.2%, which technically makes it "Malt Liquor."

all the kiddies sing for you.

I've been studying at Rice University on and off since I started law school three years ago. But never did I know that they were hiding not one, but TWO pubs on campus. One is easy to find. It's in the basement of the student center and is intended to be the "undergrad" hangout.

The other pub, however, took more work to find. I had only heard rumors of it from a friend, who only heard rumors of it from a friend on his Ultimate Frisbee league. This other pub was named Valhalla, which brought to mind Norse mythology, Vikings, horns, swords, plunder, blond women, gigantic ships, and beer. When one of my study-mates mentioned that we should grab a beer after studying at Rice one day, I remembered that infamous "other" pub. We set out to find this mysterious Valhalla.

Guided only by instructions from a Rice student and our keen second-sense of alcohol, the three of us searched for the pub. We were told to look for a building that looks like a lecture hall (um, this is a university campus) by a bus stop with stairs leading up to the entrance. Except that we're not supposed to take the stairs. We're supposed to proceed around to the side of the building and locate a door leading down into the basement of the lecture hall. There, so said the Rice student, is where we will find Valhalla - the "grad student" pub. I liked it already. Grad students. People who were as jaded about education as were are.

We expected to need a password, maybe a special saying, like at a speak-easy, to gain admittance to the pub. You know - knock twice, scratch three times, pound with your fist. Maybe we'd have to bring booty from our last voyage.

Valhalla was exactly where it was supposed to be, and it looked exactly how I had imagined. It was kind of dark, it smelled of old building, beer, and maybe some BO. It was small, there were pictures on the wall of various Valhalla partiers and Rice events dating back to the 19-teens, including photos of JFK's famous moon speech at Rice Stadium and the G7 Summit. And there was, of course, a Viking helmet displayed in a glass case at one end of the room. The curved ceiling and old piano in the corner buried beneath various board games and knick-knacks completed the experience. We had found it - Valhalla was ours.

Not really. But it was fun. The beer selection was excellent, as were the prices. $1.25 for St. Arnold draft? Done. $2 for Blue Moon? Deal. I handed the proprietress a credit card. She looked at it, looked at me, and said, "Oh, this is Valhalla. Cash only." Of course. Let me go find some gold coins I picked up in Newfoundland.

While there, my friend struck up a conversation with an older couple sitting at the end of the bar by themselves. We got to talking, and turns out they had been Valhalla patrons for 25 years, and had owned Shakespeare's Pub in Houston for 16, having recently sold it.

Go on - check out Valhalla for yourself. If you can find it.

Dallas Guy has decided to join us and he brings with him his signature form of cynicism and wit. He has chosen the moniker "The Evil I" (his name starts with I). For details, see what wiki has to say. I don't think there will be any national geographic jungle chics in these posts, but I can't guarantee it either.

This is the ninth edition of the "things that happen to you while" series.

Things that happen to you while on route to, at, and on route back from a wedding in Abilene, TX:

1. You drive through a bunch of small towns inhabited by people that probably consider a "home" to consist of no less than 100 acres.

2. You decide you should give up city life and get yourself some la-yand out in the country. It really does look like a nice lifestyle. Sure beats the hell out of sitting on 59 every day.

3. You meet (or re-meet) the groom's childhood friends who were an excellent group of people who you had a great time with.

4. With the groom present, you trade stories about the groom with said group of friends about his various and sundry exploits with women over the years. The groom turns red and buries his face in his hands. Only then do the really good stories come out. Almost every story starts with, "HEY, oh yeah, remember that time he..."

5. You watch one of said friends attach a ball and chain to the groom's ankle and give the key to the bride.

6. You drink a lot of beer. A lot. A really really lot. But somehow you don't get drunk, which could be a good or bad sign depending on your point of view.

7. One of the friends bought the bride and groom a Sony Playstation with a game called Guitar Hero. You try it out, and marvel at how much more difficult it is pretending to play guitar than actually playing guitar. You also marvel at the zen-like state of concentration exhibited by two of the groom's and bride's friends who are Guitar Hero experts.

8. You run into one of the groom's friends who you met when you lived in San Antonio and worked at "that company." You discuss all the crazy and stupid things the company did, and he updates you on all the crazy and stupid things the company is still doing. You're glad there is consistency in the universe.

9. You get to see your friend who you convinced to go to law school when you lived in San Antonio get married to a girl who went to law school with him, and you wonder what would have happened if he had gone to the school you advised him to go to instead of the school he actually went to. He probably wouldn't have met that girl, and he probably wouldn't have gotten married this weekend, and he probably wouldn't have looked like he was about to pass out for the thirty-six hours before the ceremony. "Dude, you're sweatin' like a mofo. Stand under this vent and have this beer. You need it."

10. As your friend is standing at the altar saying his vows, you silently pray and hope that he and his wife enjoy a lifetime of happiness and success. L'Chaim!!

10.5. You also pray and hope that he doesn't start using the excuse, "I'm married and boring now" to get out of trips to the bar and whatnot. It's not gonna fly. Like any good relationship, ours was founded while drinking, and it's important that we adhere to that standard.

I went to Khan's Deli, a sandwich shop in Rice Village, on Monday to give them a try, and it was not a good experience. This is what happened.

I order a turkey sandwich and move to the register to pay with a credit card, when I see a "cash or check only" sign. It would have been nice if they put the sign at the "Order" counter to put people on notice of what the payment situation is, but whatever. I ask if they take check cards (I know it was a long-shot), and the guy, who appeared to be the owner, said no, but that i could walk to the Walgreen's down the street and use the ATM. I figure that since the sandwich guy hadn't really finished the sandwich, that i'd just come back another time when i had cash. At which point the owner called out to the sandwich guy, "Hey, this kid doesn't want his sandwich, he doesn't want to walk half a block to the Walgreen's to get some cash. He's one of those yuppies."

By this point I'm already at the door when I hear him call me a yuppie. We exchange some words across the restaurant and it doesn't end well. It was not what I'd call a pleasant customer experience.

I sent this story to one of my friends who took (and passed) the bar last year, and she had this to say:

You just had what we call a "bar encounter". This is something that you would normally let slip off your back and walk away; however, since you are studying for the bar, you take offense and eventually tell the guy to f@#k off. "Bar encounters" occur frequently during bar preparation. It is recommended that any "bar studier" refrain from contact with the general public and venture out only when absolutely necessary. Contact with "other bar studiers" is permitted, but the length of such contact should be kept to a minimum.

While that may be true, the owner had no reason to get all smarmy with me. The ironic thing is that his sandwich shop is located in Rice Village, which is about as yuppie as you can get in Houston, and his entire client base could be labeled "yuppie," so if it's yuppies he doesn't want to serve, he's going to have an empty restaurant.

I have this friend in Dallas. He's 26. He has two BMWs, a motorcycle, his own condo, and a bunch of random toys and gadgets to add "fun" and/or complexity to his life. He also has three degrees and is one of the smartest people I know. The other night, we had one of those conversations about life that makes you sit back and say, "I need a drink." Here are a couple excerpts cleaned up for your viewing pleasure. Words in [brackets] have been replaced for something less lewd. He gave me permission to post it. Names have been changed. Keep in mind Dallas Guy is more jaded than the average 26-year-old. He's a little on the bitter side for living in the same city his entire life.

(9:04:35 PM) Dallas Guy: so now where do I go?
(9:04:44 PM) Particleman: whereever your heart desires
(9:04:44 PM) Dallas Guy: if I had a plan I'd go do it already
(9:04:51 PM) Dallas Guy: or hell, if I had a goal
(9:04:56 PM) Dallas Guy: I can make plans
(9:05:08 PM) Particleman: tell me about your ideal week
(9:05:13 PM) Dallas Guy: I was always goal driven for everything my whole life
(9:05:19 PM) Particleman: regardless of location or cost of living
(9:05:24 PM) Dallas Guy: and now Ive met all my goals
(9:05:46 PM) Dallas Guy: my ideal week is one where I go solving
problems all day long and I never do anything repetitive
(9:06:09 PM) Dallas Guy: and then I go home and [sleep with] some hot chick that argues with me about politics and tries to put me in my place
(9:06:27 PM) Particleman: you want marriage
(9:06:47 PM) Particleman: and a cool job
(9:06:54 PM) Dallas Guy: but not to some dumb jewish chick that was raised to be a trophy
(9:07:14 PM) Dallas Guy: I want a smart ambitious girl that's out to prove her d*ck is bigger than mine
(9:07:45 PM) Particleman: but you didn't dispute the original statement
(9:07:48 PM) Dallas Guy: and the cool job, I think I know the route on
that, its just timing now
(9:07:49 PM) Particleman: you want marriage
(9:07:52 PM) Dallas Guy: I do
(9:07:56 PM) Particleman: you want it now?
(9:08:10 PM) Dallas Guy: not necessarily
(9:08:17 PM) Dallas Guy: in the next 3 years though
(9:08:35 PM) Particleman: thats what you think. you are totally in your quarter life crisis
(9:08:55 PM) Particleman: you are sick of the daily grind and are just waiting for the next cool thing
(9:09:55 PM) Dallas Guy: It's totally a quarter life crisis
(9:09:59 PM) Dallas Guy: in a bad bad way
(9:10:20 PM) Particleman: you bought the cars, the motorcycle, the toys, the crazy trips to far off places
(9:10:37 PM) Dallas Guy: that sounds more like a midlife crisis
(9:10:48 PM) Dallas Guy: thats what makes mine unique
(9:11:06 PM) Dallas Guy: most quarter life people are busy trying to find something stable to call home
(9:11:25 PM) Dallas Guy: I'm tired of the stable and craving anything else which is the midlife crisis
(9:12:26 PM) Dallas Guy: its like a desperate attempt to convert the fruits of my previous labor (salary, savings, freedom, etc...) into excitement for my otherwise uneventful life
(9:12:40 PM) Dallas Guy: only to be left with an uneventful life and lots of toys
(9:13:09 PM) Dallas Guy: I should probably talk to some 50 year olds about their midlife crisis
(9:13:17 PM) Dallas Guy: and their personal resolution to it
(9:14:05 PM) Particleman: i disagree. you have the new young-professional quarter life crisis
(9:14:36 PM) Particleman: your life turned into that of a 40 year old and it freaks you out. 9-5 job. house note. car note. traffic. monotony. boring job. you miss the excitement of being young(er) and without obligations and responsibilities
(9:14:59 PM) Dallas Guy: I guess thats it
(9:15:04 PM) Dallas Guy: so how do u fix it
(9:15:39 PM) Particleman: leave dallas. find a better job and/or move to a new place. just don't carry your problems around with you. and realize there will always be obligations and sh*t

...

(9:18:24 PM) Dallas Guy: right after I bought my place i realized that this was the beginning of the end of my life
(9:18:35 PM) Particleman: nothing is that permanent
(9:18:54 PM) Dallas Guy: it's like the people at work. they all have the same life as me
(9:19:15 PM) Dallas Guy: they have a job, some random hobbies, some loans, and whatever
(9:19:22 PM) Dallas Guy: some are married, some have kids
(9:19:31 PM) Dallas Guy: but in the end it's slavery to a system
(9:19:48 PM) Dallas Guy: and we do it so we can buy bigger houses and fancier cars
(9:19:53 PM) Particleman: give me a break. slavery my ass.
(9:20:09 PM) Dallas Guy: indentured servitude sound better?
(9:20:21 PM) Particleman: you're useless man
(9:20:30 PM) Dallas Guy: I really think I would be happy living in a jungle
(9:20:36 PM) Dallas Guy: or the side of a mountain
(9:20:44 PM) Dallas Guy: killing sh*t to eat when I got hungry
(9:20:57 PM) Dallas Guy: and otherwise banging some [sexy] jungle chick
(9:21:16 PM) Particleman: can i put that on my website?
(9:21:22 PM) Dallas Guy: put what
(9:21:30 PM) Particleman: your jungle thing
(9:21:32 PM) Particleman: that's funny
(9:21:33 PM) Dallas Guy: sure
(9:21:53 PM) Particleman: lol
(9:22:00 PM) Particleman: my site is too clean for that
(9:22:06 PM) Dallas Guy: u gonna keep the [sexy] jungle chick
(9:22:20 PM) Dallas Guy: you can use nicer words

And so I did.

Maybe. Maybe not. Bear with me.

I saw Blood Diamond last night. Leo the Sleazebag was actually cool. I'm not that big of a Leo fan, mostly because he plays a pretty boy most of the time, but I was impressed with his performance as a sleazebag in this movie (reminded me of his neurotic OCD Howard Hughes portrayal). But of course he couldn't remain the sleazebag throughout the entire movie, so without giving anything away, let's just say Leo redeems himself. Kind of. Inadvertently. By no fault of his own.

As for Leo's accent, I though he was trying to cop a South African accent, in which case it would have kind of sucked, because my brother-in-law's family is South African and I know what South Africans sound like (Hello love! Oh deah, that does sound o-ful. You must be famished, yeh?). Turns out Leo was not supposed to be from SA, he was supposed to be from Rhodesia, which according to the World Atlas of Particleman did not exist until last night. Here it is.

Rhodesia is present-day Zimbabwe, which happens to be the place used to denote things that are prohibitively far away. For example, if one of our friends goes on a world-wide tour of far-off places, they are "probably in freaking Zimbabwe by now." Zimbabwe is basically a term interchangeable with "BFE." You might not know what BFE means if you're not from Texas, in which case I will have to explain it in a separate post.

Also, Jennifer Connelly is hot. Leo should have totally made out with her.

I rode my bike to class the other morning (in the 90 degree heat) and walked into the lecture hall to find it warmer than usual. Since my internal body temperature was already at 175 degrees due to the bike ride, I was especially disappointed to hear the administrator announce, "Sorry, some transformers blew and half of the power is out. There isn't enough power to run the A/C or the projector, so class is canceled for now. Please check the website for updates."

Screw you guys. I'm hot and sweaty. I need A/C, and I just rode here to learn about Criminal Law, or something. It was right about then when I heard some classmates chant: "RE-FUND... RE-FUND... RE-FUND...." Gotta love it when a bunch of to-be lawyers start bitching about getting ripped off.

I saw Pirates 3 and Spiderman 3. They were both lame. I know, I know. You're saying, "We could have told you that before you spend $9 each on them." Thankfully: 1) Dad spent the $9 for me and 2) I knew they would suck. The problem with these movies is the same problem every other 3rd edition of a movie has - too much of what you don't want, and not enough of what you do - namely, fresh ideas. These guys are running on empty. Can't think of a good plot? Add more bad guys. Can't think of any more cool twists? Make the story more confusing and hope it looks like a twist. Ugh. At least Kirsten Dunst and Keira Knightley are hot.

I also saw 28 Weeks Later, which scared the shit out of me. I don't see scary movies. I don't like them. I don't like gore. It's not the violence that bothers me, it's the cutting-off-of-body-parts and heart-stopping screams and general twisted story-lines that make me squirm. Case in point: the last "scary" move I saw was Stephen King's "It" when I was 14. I didn't sleep for weeks and I have a permanent dislike of clowns.

For 28 Weeks Later, I sat in the back row and drank the beer that my friend and I snuck into the theater, and I still couldn't handle the movie. I basically buried my face in her shoulder. She called me all kinds of names. I deserved it. Whatever. That movie was messed up. I'm never going to think of London in the same way.

As if you really needed it, here you go. I've been riding my bike to the bar-prep class I go to every morning from 9-12:30 and I normally stop for lunch on the way home. While leaving Brown Bag Deli (BBD), one of my favorite lunch spots, I noticed a strange contraption parked against a bench. It was a Segway.

Have you ever seen one of these things? I mean, like, in person? They are awesome. Sure, I've seen them in magazines and on TV shows but i had never seen one in person. And just my luck, the owner was walking out of BBD, so I had to talk to him about it. I couldn't resist. There we were, a geek on a bike and a geek on a Segway outside of a sandwich shop, talking about how the Segway works, how it senses your body position and decides whether to go forwards or backwards, how it locks itself, how it runs on batteries and requires a nightly charge, how it has a running distance of 250 miles, how it saves gasoline for short trips to the sandwich shop...

And there is your proof. If you needed it.

Firstly, big thanks go to MPB and Pajama Grrl for taking over while studying for the Bar exam has me chained to my desk. Ya'll are rocking.

Secondly, I really wanted to sum up my three years in law school in a descriptive and complete post because so much has happened during this time, but it's not gonna happen. This is a slightly abbreviated version.

Thirdly, i had the week from hell last week. Not only was I in class for about eight hours per day, but my car decided to stop working on Monday night. I got out of class at 9:30 and it wouldn't start. I called my friend for a jump but no dice. The engine wouldn't even turn over. Turns out my battery was completely dead so I had a new one put in and all is well now. The Honda keeps on ticking.

In other news, I graduated from law school. I have a Juris Doctor, or Doctor of Jurisprudence, or JD, or whatever you feel like calling it.* I basically paid $95,000 over three years to be able to tell people, in response to their legal questions, "it depends." When I look back at all the things I've learned, all the amazing people I've met, and all the friendships I've made, I am infinitely thankful for the opportunity to have gone to law school, and I'm thankful I have such supportive parents and understanding friends who didn't get pissed off when I wished them happy birthday three months after the fact.

People ask why I went to law school. There are so many answers to that question. In the end, if I really think about it and put aside all the baloney about making a difference and doing something interesting with my life (which is actually true), the real reason I went to law school was to meet people.**

When I went to law school, my goal was to meet smart and interesting people who were fun. Law school gave me that. So thanks everyone, it was cool. I may be moving to Dallas, but this site will (hopefully) always be here, and you all know how to find me anyway, website or not.

Ok, end sappiness.

From here on out, my life will be dominated by the Bar. I will be the Bar's bitch for the next two months. And then come July 24-26, i will make the Bar my bitch. Such is the plan. I will try to drop in every now and then to tell you all about how exciting studying is. I could tell you now, but I'd rather save it up.

*With one big caveat: as long as i passed all my classes. Grades aren't in yet. Keep your fingers crossed.

** There was another reason which you should be able to figure out for yourself. It's actually included in the first reason.

Much has happened recently. I went to my last law school class of all time. I've taken three final exams. I went to Austin for a wedding and got very drunk and danced up a storm. I rode my bike a few times. And I have enlisted the help of another pinch-blogger. Or rather, she volunteered. Her name is Pajama Grrl and she likes pajamas.

Tonight is my very last final exam of law school, EVAR. I am very excited. I graduate on Saturday and I plan on having a drink in my hand for the entire period in between.

Sorry for the dearth of posts lately. I'm in finals mode and that means I'm cranky and I don't have much to say. I did enlist the help of two (2) pinch-bloggers, but both (both) are apparently slacking. Maybe they have less to say than I do? Not likely, knowing what I know about them.

Neither had I until last week. So here you go. This is a medley of songs performed at a record store. It just cuts from song to song.

addendum: i just ordered two of her albums from amazon and i bought one more from iTunes. it's official - i am smitten with Regina Spektor.

Today was my last day of school, forever. Of course I still have finals and the bar to look forward to, so I'm no where near "done." And to make things more fun, my school decides to start the spring semester later than other Texas schools, thus making the semester end later. Pretty much everyone takes a course to prepare us for the bar. While students from other schools have a week off between graduation and the prep course which I shall not name, we get a whopping 36 hours to relax before we're plunged right back into class. A day and a half. Did we really need a five-week winter break? Four would have been plenty.

But wait - there's more!! There's a supplemental prep course that focuses on a certain area of the bar that some people - including me - opt to take. That course is one week and runs concurrently with the first week of the normal prep course. So the week after finals and graduation, I will be in class for seven hours a day.

I know you're thinking. It's one of two things:

1. Dude, that sucks.
2. Stop your bitching. You did it to yourself, remember? You're the one that went to law school.

I respond:

1. No kidding. Tell me about it.
2. Go to hell. When I'm defending your sorry ass for copyright infringement you'll change your tune.*

*note: i spent all afternoon studying for finals. i'm feeling a little punchy. i need a beer.

Two neighbor stories for you.

1. I live in a garage apartment behind a duplex, which means my apartment is right next to someone else's backyard. They have fence, but it's not wooden, so you can see through it. They also have a patio where they tend to hang out. My washing machine and dryer are outside my apartment, which means I have to walk outside to do laundry (I share the washer and dryer with the tenants in the duplex). See Exhibit A below.

Exhibit A

There is normally no one in the backyard when I am doing laundry, so I tend to walk outside without a shirt. I figure hey, it's my place, it's not very far, and I'm basically in the privacy of my own backyard.

Well, I was doing laundry yesterday afternoon. On the way back from starting a new load, I notice that my neighbors are in their backyard, that their parents are there, and that their granddaughter (maybe 5 years old) is also there. I also noticed I'm not wearing a shirt. Oops.

2. I play bass a little loud every now and then. How loud? Loud enough to shake my walls, and probably let the neighbors know how much soul I have (I'm like James Brown - I got soul to spare). Around the same time I was doing laundry, I was also jamming out to some older Lenny Kravitz, a song called "Come On And Love Me." It has a really great drum beat and a simple, funky bass line. It's perfect jam-out fodder. So there I was, jamming away in my apartment, when I get a Gmail chat message from one of the guys in the duplex:

"play that funky music white boy"

I figured I was too loud. He heard me. Then he said:

"Just got back from some GREAT margaritas (very surprised for Pittsburgh)"

HE WAS IN PITTSBURGH. How did he know I was playing that funky music?

I don’t feel good about giving a negative review, but every Vedera song sounded the same. I was expecting a little more variety. And when a band uses lyrics that include “I see that sparkle in your eye,” (or anything close to it) I know it’s time for me to bail. Vedera are a great pop-rock band… if you’re in high school. The vocalist did steal the show as I excepted, and she was phenomenal, but the rest of the band did not impress me enough to get passed the general boringness of it all. I felt bad for them since only 40 or 50 people showed up and many of them were sitting at the bar. I figure that if I’m going to watch a band, I will show them enough respect to at least stand up. I guess I needed more rock and less pop. Twenty-five minutes of their set was all I could handle.

The other surprise Vedera’s opener. They were better than I expected. Though the singer looked about 16, This Is Me Smiling put on a solid show of piano-laced rock. Imagine a younger Ben Folds Five with electric guitar, but not quite that good yet. Give them a few more years (at least until they stop claiming “dependent” on their tax returns).

Vedera didn’t cure my music funk. I think what I really need is a Flogging Molly show.

Contents of my fridge:

• salsa
• milk
• juice
• shredded cheese
• tortillas
• ketchup
• old root beer
• one bottle of sam adams
• strawberry jam
• eggs
• mayo
• butter
• parmesan cheese
• old phili cream cheese, possibly now rock-solid

And that's more than it usually has. I wonder what I can make using only those items.

The coolest thing happened today. I plugged my ipod in, loaded iTunes, and iTunes said:

So I said: "Huh. That's funny." I unplugged the iPod and performed a 'reset.' Then just to be on the safe side, I made sure all my music was still there. Lo an behold - it was all gone! Every last song! No where to be found! After spending weeks - no, months - honing the perfect playlist so that it had just the songs I wanted and none of the ones I didn't, it all went bye-bye. Now I get to compile the list for a second time.

*grumble*. apple, i shake my fists at you.

I've been in a little bit of a funk lately. It's a combination of stress from finals, worries about the upcoming bar exam, and a lack of good shows. I haven't seen a good show in a while. But this Thursday a band called Vedera is playing and I'm really excited. I randomly found this band on myspace and I liked what I heard. Imagine a slightly harder and new-for-2000s-era-hipsters version of The Sundays.

Most of what I like about this band is the vocalist. So many vocalists in young bands pretend to sing but are unable to control what talent they may have. The vocalist for Vedera really knows what she's doing. Her voice is pure and clear, and it doesn't sound like it's been tweaked by studio equipment. She does seem to rely on some common emo-vocalist gimmicks, but hey, they're a young band. I'm willing to cut them some slack. The music is a little mediocre, so I'm expecting her to carry the show.

If you wanna go, it's $9 in advance/$11 at the door at Walter's on Washington. Show starts at 9. Get tickets here.

You can (legally) download two cd-quality songs here. Their old name was Veda, so I think Veda shows up in the file name.

Via onotob. Sorry, but you kind of have to be a nerd to know what this means. Non-nerds will have to do the best they can.

var particleman = everyone.getPerson['Particleman'];
var myPerspective = {evil:'Having to take the Bar exam',good:'Riding bikes, drinking beer, reading books, and traveling'};
for (var personId in everyone)
{
var p = everyone[personId];
p.desiresNoBarExam = true;
p.proactive = true;
p.perspective = myPerspective;
p.send (particleman,p.assets.getAssetType('cash').getAmount(1,'dollar'));
}

Thanks Lee.

I had a free ticket to see Kofi Annan speak last night. I gave it up so I could see a ska show instead. I think it was the right choice.

I am cursed to have bad laptop luck. The laptop my dad fixed a couple months ago done broke again, and this time, the breakage was permanent. Fed up with buying laptops that consistently fail right when I need them, I resolved to never again spend a lot of money on a new laptop, which is convenient because I don't really have any.

I hopped on Craigslist while I was in Dallas over Spring Break and found an IBM X30 for $450. It's a tad low on RAM (256 MB) and it doesn't have a CD-ROM drive, but it's well-built and very, very light. At least i thought it was well-built until i cracked the edge of the case. I put it in my backpack after one class, walked to my next class, and there was a crack in the case waiting for me when I pulled out the laptop.

No matter. It still works. As for the RAM, I sucked it up and bought 512 more MB. It's a little quicker now.

I know it kind of makes me seem like an alchie to be posting about a "new favorite drink," but this is too good to keep to myself. I'm not much of a liqour guy - I like me some beer. But one of my friends in Dallas introduced me to a wonderful concoction called a French Connection. It's cognac (Hennessey, in my case) mixed with amaretto (Grand Marnier), with a couple ice cubes to cool it off. It's kind of a fru-fru drink, I know. But it's really good, and a couple of them will give you a nice buzz for the rest of the night.

Mexico won the contest. It's close, it's cheap, and I've never been. I am going to Riviera Maya with two of my Dallas friends for seven days. The itinerary will go something like this:

1. Locate beach with white sand and crystal blue water
2. Secure alcoholic beverage
3. Claim easy chair or hammock
4. Decompress

Repeat repeatedly. Other activities may include:

1. Snorkeling, sailing, etc.
2. Visiting ancient ruins
3. Hopping to nearby islands for day-trips
4. Renting a moped and riding around
5. See four items above

Thanks everyone for playing. One day, I will visit all of the other places. One day...

I should have decided to move EAST.

WTF.

[ click for larger version ]

Bike geek socks. Thank You Google Checkout.

You pervs. Get your minds out of the gutter.

The massage was nice but it didn't relieve the pain. It did give me some more mobility though. I guess it will just take a few days for my muscles to heal. I can tell you one thing - at one hour and three minutes, Massive Attack's album Mezzanine makes for a great soundtrack to a one-hour massage appointment.

I messed up my neck pretty good this morning in the shower. It's happened to me before. I think I pinched or pulled something and its preventing me from moving my head up, and most any other way i turn it hurts. I end up having to turn my entire body to talk to people and I have to keep my head pointed sort of down, which, as you can imagine, kind of puts me in an awkward position when talking to women. Yeah, I've become "that guy."

I made my first ever appointment with a massage therapist for tomorrow morning and I can't wait. It's an hour. I hope she can knead this pinch or knot or whatever it is out of my neck so I can walk around like a normal person again. Chances are I'll be really sore when she's done. I'll probably need more sessions. Don't people get hooked on this stuff? And just so you know, I've already gotten one joke about happy endings. Don't think you're all clever and witty, someone beat you to the punch.

I don’t post about recent cases I find interesting because most of you probably won’t find them any more interesting than a plate of okra. But this case is interesting. I promise.

Some high school kids (the nerds) are suing a company called Turnitin that archives student papers in a database and compares them against recently submitted papers to check for plagiarism. The idea is to keep kids from cheating off of other kids’ work. While this is a worthy cause, Turnitin apparently archived some papers without the authors’ consent. Viola – copyright infringement. They are profiting off of the nerds and the nerds are suing for $150,000 per infringed paper for a total of $900,000.

It pays to be a nerd.

Story via Patry.

addendum: in response to a comment i got in the hall today, if this happens to get the nerds laid, more power to them.

Remember that ethics test I took last semester? Well, I flunked it. You need to get a "scaled" score of at least 85 (out of 150) to pass, and I only got a 75. Pretty bad, I know. I retook the test last month and my score came back today. I got a 120. I kicked the crap out of that test. I am truly an ethical person. So what am I gonna do now? Drink. There's a happy hour down the street with my name on it.

The eighth installment of the series.

1. You are forced to steal your own car because the alarm has malfunctioned and locked the ignition
2. Your alarm goes off while driving, so you rip out the lead wire to the siren
3. Once in Dallas, the alarm drains your battery while you’re out partying at bars
4. You wake up at 6:30 on Saturday morning to attend a 5K run your law firm is sponsoring
5. It’s 35 degrees. You don’t run . Instead, you get the best 20-minute massage of your life.
6. It snows.
7. Later that day, you and your boss’ brother manage to jump your car and bypass the alarm by ripping apart the rest of the alarm assembly. Wires dangle from under your steering wheel.
8. You play your friend’s Nintendo Wii. You want a Wii too.
9. You almost bust a lung laughing at all the rabbits you’re shooting with plungers. Rabbits don’t like plungers and you have a plunger gun. Life is good.
10. You eat Mediterranean food with friends on Saturday night. One of the guests just happens to be the law student from whom you sublet an apartment last summer.
11. You can’t remember how well you cleaned the apartment when you moved out but you hope it was good enough, because she’s sitting right there.
12. Hennessey mixed with Grand Marnier becomes your new favorite drink when your friend insists you try it later that night.
13. You nickname one of your friends "Roshanda Bangkok Nigeria Horowitz."
14. You and your friends eat lunch the next morning in the part of town affectionately termed “The Gayborhood.” You might have been checked out, but you’re not sure. Your waiter is wearing bunny ears and a bunny tail (hello, it’s Easter).
15. You play more Nintendo and take the record for fastest rabbit runner, but running in Nintendo has nothing to do with feet.

It's the holiday when Jews typically spend a week remembering how the Jews were freed from slavery in Egypt and escaped Pharaoh's grasp by the hand of God. Part of that remembering involves giving up all foods resembling bread, which includes anything with yeast. Passover is also the holiday when Particleman drinks a lot of beer, eats a lot of pasta, and enjoys many sandwiches. With bread. Thankfully, Judaism contains no concept of Hell, and neither does Particlemanism.

It's called the "Where Should Particleman Go After The Bar" game. I encourage your suggestion to be different and daring. Do not take cost into account, since I will most likely be borrowing (yet more!) money to pay for the trip. Do, however, take safety and digestive issues into account. With exception to Israel, I do not want to go any country I have already visited:

Canada
Costa Rica
Ecuador
England
Holland
Belgium
Germany
Austria
Italy
France
Czech Republic
Israel
Russia
Lithuania

I can't go to a concert with a ticket that costs $250. It's just not right. It's counter to everything I stand for about music. Here at particleman.org, we stand for things, and one of those things is not price-gouging music fans. I saw Fugazi for $5. I can't possibly see a show with a $250 ticket.

So instead, I think the My Chemical Romance/Muse show in two weeks is more reasonable. It's $30. I think I can handle that. The only thing that bothers me is that Muse isn't the headliner, they're the opener, so their set will be short.

Particleman.org therefore says, "F**k The Police." They charge too much.

This is the bass I finally settled on. I traded my old one in and I'm pretty happy with the new one. I'm so excited about it that I played till my fingers were raw. They kind of hurt now.

As you can see, the "stripes" on the back extend along the length of the bass. These stripes are actually strips of wood fused together to create one solid length of wood. Then, a piece of wood is fused to each side of the center piece, and presto, you have a bass. Using one solid piece of wood for the neck and body (called "neck-thru" construction) as opposed to a neck that is bolted onto the body results in a more solid feel and notes that sustain longer. This bass rings like a piano.

It has also has a longer-than-usual two octave neck so I can hit those high notes. Not that I'm one to be messing around that high on the neck very often, but it's good to know those notes are there if i want them.

It sucks when you're at the grocery store and go on a cereal binge, and you can't wait to get home and have yourself a delicious bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats, except for that the soy milk in your fridge expired on March 11th. But you figure "what the hell, it's soy milk, not real milk, it can't be all that bad," and even though it tastes kind of funny, you satisfied your cereal urge. Cereal is, quite possibly, the perfect after-school snack. This is something I learned in grade school and I just wanted to pass the knowledge on to you.

My friend bought four floor tickets to the last-chance-ever Police tour for $250 each. The show is on Friday, June 29th. I want to go. I don't have $250. Help particleman fulfill his dream of seeing Sting take his shirt off. Just kidding. But I would really like to see The Police. This isn't a Rolling Stones-type tour where they say, "Ok, THIS is the last tour. We mean it this time." This will really be the only time The Police tour together again. I'm pretty sure they hate each other and that's why they have never done a reunion tour. Until now.

I know there are a bunch of you out there who read this blog. If each of you donates a buck or two, that would probably be enough. For those of you requiring a guilt trip to encourage donation, consider the donation a small token of thanks for the many years of enlightening and humorous blogging. I did it all for you. Plus, it would be a great graduation gift, provided I pass my classes this semester...

Those of you that are still reading, I would really, really, really appreciate it if you could send a buck or two or five to my paypal account, registered under the email address mtnbiker7901 -at- yahoo -dot- com. Or, if you see me at school, I will happily take cash. Thank you thank you thank you.

I will be keeping track of who donates what (in an Excel spreadsheet, of course). If I don't get close enough to the $250 to actually go, I will return all of the money. You can consider this an enforceable contract.

No more after this, I promise.

The woman I shared an office with last week is a huge fan of The Police. I like The Police just as much as the next guy, maybe more. I have some LPs (you know, those black vinyl things) and a double live album on CD. But i was not prepared for her cell phone ring of "Don't Stand So Close To Me." After only a couple rings, the song got stuck in my head and I'd spontaneously start singing it at any given moment. And you can bet that I have a pretty bad singing voice. It must have not been pleasant for her, but the way I see it, it was her fault.

Strong words in the staff room
The accusations fly...

You didn't think I was done, did you?

My office is on the 53rd floor of a downtown office building. We can't see out of the windows on foggy days. Airplanes appear to be heading right for us. Cars look like Hot Wheels. We can only imagine how windy it is up there. So when we see a bug (spider, fly, whatever) stuck to the outside of one of our windows, we can't help but say to the bug, "DUDE, do you know how HIGH you are?? How did you get up there?? Why aren't you getting blown away?? Go home!!"

I get a kick out of playing what I see as harmless pranks on people at the office. Back at my old IT job in San Antonio, I removed the mouse ball from my team-member's mouse. One morning, i got to my desk and everything except my computer was gone. All papers and office supplies were missing. I thought I had gotten fired. Turns out that same teammate hid everything in a file cabinet down the hall. Such shenanigans make office life a little more fun.

Last week, I spent spring break in Dallas working at the firm and was presented with an opportunity I could not pass up. One of the lawyers there is really attached to her stapler. It's heavy duty and works well. One of the other lawyers likes to "borrow" it and she freaks out when her stapler goes missing. She had gone on a vacation in Hawaii so the other lawyer naturally "borrowed" it while she was gone. When she got back, she went through his office looking for it while he was out to lunch and couldn't find it.

So my office-mate, the other lawyer, and I resolved to pool our creative abilities to come up with some kind of prank focusing on the stapler, and I had an idea. The firm was auctioning off basketball and hockey tickets to raise money for a charity, and they put silent auction forms on the fridge in the kitchen so we could could bid for the tickets. I suggested we put the stapler up for auction and see what happens. If the attorney really wanted her stapler back, she'd have to bid for it. If she didn't bid, she'd demand we hand it over, and we could at least have a little fun in telling her where it was hidden.

After the silent bidding ran its course, I was the highest bidder for the stapler at $40, and the firm got together for a verbal auction to finalize everything and see if anyone who did not bid silently might speak up and claim one of the items. The basketball tickets went for $220 in a lively bidding war. The hockey tickets went for $150, and the stapler went for ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS. And since one of the named partners offered to match the auction prices, the charity got $200. For a stapler.

Moral of the story? Pull more pranks. You might end up benefiting a charity.

A guy who sits in front me in one of my classes has extremely short hair - almost military short - but he's far from military material (sorry man). The quality of his mettle is not at issue here, however. The issue is a rather amusing arrangement of dot-like scars on the back of his head. The scars are visible because of his short hair, so my friend and I joke with our short-haired classmate that we like playing connect the dots with the back of his head. Classmate is good-humored about our little game and in fact has been known to encourage it.

Today, Connect-The-Dots Man (I'll keep coming up with new nicknames as I see fit) was making chit-chat with me and my neighbor and, in classic Particleman fasion, I sarcastically blurted out that Baldy needed to stop talking and turn around so I could continue drawing imaginary lines on the back of his head. Scar-man was noticably flabbergasted at the comment and took offense, noting that he spent all day thinking of me in nothing but a positive light, and, yet, I mistreat him so. I could not argue. Peach Fuzz had made a point.

He then suggested I consider our humorous exchange for a blog-post. So, Scalp Man, please consider this an informal apology for my rude remarks. Also bear in mind most of what I say is in some degree a distortion of what I'm actually thinking, and that this trait is amplified on this blog.

Maybe next time I'll show up to class with a Sharpie. The non-eraseable kind.

Note: any inconsistencies or exaggerations in this story are the result of either my bad memory or great story-telling ability, or both.

I think i'm going to get one of these. Aw yeah.

Out with the old, in with something else, maybe older.

I’ve been playing a Fender Precision Bass* since 2001 even though I swore I would never buy one. They’re very plain and simple and ubiquitous. You’ve seen them everywhere. It’s the classic look that’s been around since the 50’s. Thing is, because there are so plain and simple, they always sound good, never break down, and are easy to fix.

I always wanted a Gibson Bass – either a Ripper, RD Artist, or Victory – so I could sound like Krist Novoselic from Nirvana.** Yes, it was a teenage dream. He’s basically the reason I started playing bass. I was 14. Give me a break. These Gibson basses look and sound completely different from Fenders but are hard to come by (and are expensive) because Gibson only made them for a few years, circa 1974-1983. Prices have steadily risen in the last few years because of increased exposure by other well-known Gibson users – Mike Dirnt of Green Day for one.

The time has come to sell my old Fender and get something else. Something completely different. My options are to get one of the Gibsons, a Fender Jaguar Bass (something new Fender concocted that combines 60s retro with modern technology), or what I like to call a geek bass.

A geek bass is a ‘high-end’ bass that normally comes in a natural or translucent finish that lets the wood grain show through. These basses abandon the classic Fender and Gibson shapes in favor of a more modern design that in some cases makes the bass easier to play. They may also come stock from the factory with complex electronics and an onboard pre-amp. If you don’t know what an onboard pre-amp is, suffice to say it’s like slapping a mini stereo amplifier inside the bass and wiring it up to the pickups.

I call these basses geek basses because of their new-fangled electronics – 5-band EQs, active circuitry, compression, expansion, pan, treble/bass boost/cut, blah blah blah – and exotic sounding woods – zebrawood, pau ferro, bubinga, purple heart, tiger eye, etc etc. It’s like listening to tech geeks talk about tech stuff. (Not that I’m one to talk…) These basses also don’t really exemplify the “rock” look. They say, “I sit around my apartment and practice jazz riffs” instead of, “I live a life of no rules, plenty of alcohol, I regularly trash hotel rooms, I engage in news-worthy shenanigans, and I generally live a rebellious lifestyle.” Cause, you know, that’s totally me.

Don’t get me wrong, these basses are excellent instruments that sound great. They are usually more expensive than “standard” basses because of the construction process, choice of wood, and electronics. Sometimes they are hilariously expensive. But hey, to each their own…

The point is – I promise there is one – is that I’m really thinking of replacing my old rock and roll classic with a geek bass. I wanted something completely different, and a geek bass would fit the bill. After 13 years of playing bass, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I will never need to look like a rock star on stage, because I will neither be on a stage nor will I be a star. This is the bass I’m ogling. But don’t worry, I’d find a used one. A’int no way I’m paying full price.

* Mine is a mid-80’s model made in Japan that looks just like this one.
** Krist never played a Victory, but they look cool.

addendum: i'm playing with the comments settings. i've been getting a lot of comment spam and i'm trying to make it so that only approved commenters can comment.

Max, my 18-month-old nephew, calls my dad Aba, which is actually the Hebrew word for dad. He’s unable to pronounce the ‘s’ in Saba, Hebrew for Grandfather. I was visiting my sister and her family in Austin this weekend, and when Max saw me, he said “Abba.” Which is funny because I’m neither his Abba nor his Saba, but when he saw the tall, funny looking guy with glasses, he thought I was his Saba.

Maya, the three-and-a-half year old, has her own ideas about me. She stubbed her toe and my sister was trying to get her to eat some soup, but Maya was too concerned about crying over the stubbed toe. So I told her that I’d eat the soup if she didn’t hurry up, and then I made a funny face, and she said, “HEY! You’re thilly! Hee hee hee.” She laughed, the tears vanished, and started she eating the soup.

I’ve been living life like a first-year law student lately, except for the whole reading thing. My friends have instituted a mandatory happy hour every Friday at 4, and I usually last till about 8 or 9 before giving up and going home. There’s only so much partying I can handle. My late twenties feel different than my early twenties. That difference in feeling is what you might call “hangover.”

One of my friends, a girl who has thus far managed to hide her true party-girl ways, found herself dancing on top of a pool table at one of these happy hours a couple weeks ago. I was so proud. As for me, well, I did my part. I’m not much of a tequila guy but I had my share of margaritas. I got one girl to show me her yoga skills (wow) and then a guy decided to the same (ugh). What amazes me is that this weeks’ happy hour was already planned on Tuesday. TUESDAY. We really are back in first year.

I saw Little Miss Sunshine. Yeah, I don’t wanna hear it. This movie came out a long time ago, I know.

Anyway, as I was watching, I rename the movie, “Can They Pile Any More Terrible Shit Onto the Stack of Horrible Things That Happen To These People.” It was like watching a train wreck, a really funny train wreck that I’m glad didn’t happen to me and my family. Not that having the grandfather die was funny, but come on, you know what I mean. You laughed at that movie, admit it.

The best scene, without a doubt, was when the grandfather lectured Dwayne about women, and particularly, how many of them he should sleep with.

It’s cool when you get called on in class and your surly answer to a question makes the teacher say, “Ah, clever evasion.”

I had dinner with a buddy last night and we decided to see Breach, the spy movie that just came out. Without checking on movie times, we go to the theater and hope one is starting soon after we get there. Just our luck, we are 30 minutes late for one and two hours away from the next one. So we buy tickets for the late one and figure we’ll hop into another movie in the meantime. You might call it theater-hopping. I call it making my $8 stretch as far as possible. Hey, I’m broke. Eight dollars for one movie is too much, but eight dollars for two is doable.

We catch Factory Girl, the Andy Warhol movie, just as it’s starting. My friend has no idea who Andy Warhol is. I give him the quick rundown: 60’s-era artist, eccentric, quirky, famous. It’s not a bad movie. Not great though, either. It drags in places, but I guess some bio-pics do that. And it turns out that the movie is less about Andy Warhol than it is about Edie Sedgwick, his short-term project. And, judging from the Wiki, I’m not even sure it’s that accurate. The ‘look’ of the film was interesting, though – filters and camera angles and whatnot.

Then we see Breach. Wow. What a trippy movie. And to think the basic facts of the story are true. A 27-year old rookie at the FBI gets assigned to take down the worst spy in American history. The government isn’t even sure how much damage he did by leaking information to Russia. His treason work supposedly led to the deaths of 50 Americans. Go see this movie. You'll leave with a "damn, that's f-ed up" feeling.

I finally saw Donnie Darko. Yes, I know it came out in 2001. I never got around to it. Now that I have, I must say it’s one hell of a movie. The version I saw was the extended director’s cut with deleted scenes. The extra material helped clarify what was going on, sort of. It was still confusing. And I still had to do some research on the web to figure out what everything meant. If you haven’t seen this movie, see it. And try to find a version with the extra scenes. I borrowed the DVD from a friend and the more I watch it, the more I notice that helps things make sense.

The soundtrack was also good. Plenty of 80s. One of my favorite scenes played Head over Heels by Tears for Fears while Donnie and his friends cruised down their high school hallway in slo-mo.

Addendum

[Seth is holding a knife to Donnie's throat as a car approaches along the road]
Seth Devlin: Did you call the fucking cops?
Donnie: Deus ex machina...
Seth Devlin: What did you say? What the fuck did you just say?
Donnie: Our saviour.

I never knew what Donnie said there because he was whispering. Now that I know, it makes more sense. Read about "deus ex machina" here.

Welcome to the new and improved particleman.org. Yes, it looks basically the same. Yes, all the old stuff is still here. But what you don’t see is what makes all that work worth the brief hiatus. Many thanks to John for helping me with the importation process. He found a way to import my old tables into the standard Moveable Type tables while retaining all the fields, the time stamps, the categories, and of course the comments. For those of you who don’t know what that means, just keep reading.

I’ve been busy the past few weeks. Busy doing – you guessed it – not much of anything. I did have a fun father-and-son day last Saturday. My dad managed to fix my laptop and then we went to the car show. Did I tell you about the broken laptop? Oh, it’s an awesome story.

I get home one night and turn on my laptop. Nothing happens. No false start, no blue screen, no nothing. I take out the power cord and notice it looks different. It seems part of the inside of the power jack broke off in the computer. I plug it in again and notice little sparks fly out of the jack. Interesting. I press the power button. Still nothing. I unplug the jack and plug it in again. More sparks. I call the manufacturer and they want $550 to fix it. I say Thanks But No Thanks. I take it the store where I bought it and they say the laptop is worth less than it would cost to fix it because the motherboard is toast. Turns out the power receptacle broke, and the power receptacle is attached to the motherboard, and they’re not about to go hunting around Houston for that power receptacle. I say Thanks Anyway (jackass).

I take the laptop to my dad. He decides to do exactly what the store would not do – he hunts around Houston for the power receptacle. He goes to his favorite parts outlet and, lo and behold, finds the power receptacle. For two dollars. He spends three hours carefully dismantling the laptop, soldering the new power receptacle on to the motherboard, and putting it all back together. He presses the button. It works. I love my dad. God bless dads who are engineers.

After that, we went to the car show and ogled all the cool new cars. Did you know that Hondas, some of the most efficient cars out there, produce more smog than many other cars out there? More than Volvos, which are probably less efficient on the average. Did you know BMW’s M6, a $102,000 behemoth of a coupe, has 400 horsepower V10? It looks like a rocket ship with 20” rims. Chevy has a new Camaro coming out that does what the Mustang, the Charger, and the PT Cruiser do – that is, relies on nostalgia to bring buyers back to American cars. I think it’s kind of lame.

That’s more or less what’s been happening. Oh yeah, and I completely embarrassed myself in class last week. So nothing has really changed.

To all my friends who have been asking me whether they should buy Windows Vista when it comes out, I wanted to make a public announcement: No. Don’t buy it. Stick with XP. Rule #1: never buy the first edition of any Microsoft software. Wait till they patch the hell out of it or release updates to fix all the holes and bugs. Rule #2: do your research. Read reviews. Don’t fall prey to the hype.

For 99% of you, XP is good enough, and you already own it. You won’t need to overhaul your computer to install anything and you already know how to use it. You will probably have to buy more memory to run Vista. For the law students among you, upgrading to Vista could cause problems if you plan on taking exams on your laptop. There’s no telling if ExamSoft will work. Also, there’s no telling if you’ll be able to take the Bar on your laptop. And if there’s one thing you don’t want to mess with, it’s your chances of passing the Bar. If you’re strictly a “type exams” kind of person like me, you don’t want to risk having to write all those essays by hand.

The other strange thing about Vista is its licensing. If you don’t activate the software, it will stop working. I don’t think Microsoft has ever done this. Activation is usually an option. Read the use terms yourself and see what I mean. The other issue is that you can only install Vista on one “device.” What’s a device? What happens if you get a new motherboard? A new processor? A new hard drive? That might be a new device, and you’d have to buy Vista again. This problem is not unique to Vista, but I was hoping they’d clarify the question for Vista. I guess not.

If you’re curious, you can find the use terms to most Microsoft products here.