hoot07.1 country

no - you don't get my Charley Pride record but you might get something else
i've put together a compilation of country tunes
some old, most new (but still sounds old)
i drew inspiration from my days when
i was too poor
to buy a shower curtain or
a kitchen drawer fork organizer

first three posts that include an email address
might get a copy of the hoot07.1 country
compilation cd (mp3 format)
other hoots will get it
just because they're
cool

iktomi

give a hoot

So I'm motoring down the Superstition Freeway at 75 mph in my Titan 5.6 V8 when this bi-ach in a Lexus with vanity plates reading NY NTV cuts in front of me and releases the Starbuck's coffee bomb. As the coffee bomb explodes on the concrete and splatters my windshield with what appears to be and smells like a French roast, low fat, decaff latte, I imagine I'm in an episode of Batman. Accordingly, I pursue this dangerous fiend and ride up behind her as traffic tightens just after the 101 stack. I'm just about pissed enough to push her fat, rich silver Lexus into the high speed HOV lane, but I refrain because I want to study this specimen of freeway dingleberry up close.
Dingleberry is unaware, apparently, of her own lower moronic actions while she puts on her makeup with one hand and talks on her pink Razor with the other. As traffic slows, I move up beside the pimped Lexus with gold rims and trim and notice that, for some odd reason, the passenger window is halfway down.
Halfway down.
My Camel is down by half too and burning strong. I can flick a butt 20 feet or more depending on the wind and there's no wind today. An evil, spiteful desire for revenge takes hold of me. I can't control it and before I know it, the Camel and it's cherry-red-ash tip are in the air through the window and right in her pleated navy skirted lap. Like a hole in one or sex on the third date, it's just according to plan. Her reaction was akin to painting a cat's bum with turpentine; screechin' ensued and she floored it right into the HOV lane like a bat out of a Texas cave in August.
My lane opened up a bit and I moved forward dutifully, like all the other drones heading into town for the wages necessary to buy AC for the upcoming summer. She on the other hand, was almost immediately arrested by the DPS for driving in the HOV lane alone. Saw it in the rear-view.
Live large NY NTV, with a hole in your expensive navy skirt and oxblood lipstick on your forehead.
And don't toss any more coffee bombs at a transplanted South Dakotan in Arizona. He just might bite back.

cookin' taters

Me and Gilbert Steve was cookin' taters out back of the office in a charcoal fire when one of them up and exploded blowing hot burning coals and tiny, vicious, wet tater fragments every darn which way. One beelined at Shelly Belavaqua's eyelid at jet speed and landed thereon with a sound akin to a tiny slap. As Shelly began his dance, screaming and cussing, Gilbert Steve tried dousing him with what was left of the charcoal fluid.
Maybe not such a good idea. The static electricity created by Shelly's polyester slacks sparked the fluid and Shelly went up like a February Christmas tree. Mushroom cloud and all. As luck would have it, someone had already called the fire department - something about starting a fire in the trunk of a car. But hey, we didn't have a proper charcoal grill and we agreed the trunk on Gilbert Steve's Hyundai Elantra closely approximated a Weber.
As you can imagine, the Hyundai was a total loss, Shelly was badly burned and the taters exploded and/or burned to cinder format. But, there was a silver lining. Me and Gilbert Steve learned a valuable lesson about cookin' taters. Taters can blow up in a fire, the trunk of a Hyundai is very close to it's gas tank and Shelly Belavaqua is a big, fat, crybaby wussy.

still bored

because i'm bored

and you probably are too
here's the new pornographers
(by the way, you can turn off the radio by clicking on the square - on your right - in the music player - then you can watch the video without interference)

rock and roll over

god, i wish i was 15 again
this album came with stickers
i put 'em on my skatebord
i was cool at it, buddy
i was hip to the best band since the beatles, stones or the kinks
what a ride

we don't shill

but we shill for a band like this
help me get down
las vegas produces a band with an 80's sound
but rather than sounding like yesterday
it sounds like tomorrow
help me get down

sugar in my tea

an oyster cracker
is like sugar in my tea



it accompanies me like a white-powder drug
or the sound of a racetrack
on my way home

when it's as hot as hell in phoenix
and i'm stuck in traffic on the 60 east towards apache junction
and i'm listening to jerry jeff or jimmy dale
'cause i like country

i crave a bowl of hot chowder
made from bottom fish, not lobster
but you can't get it at the fish houses in phoenix

so i checked in with a friend
and scored a patagonian toothfish
a "sea-bass"
about as tasty as a cheyenne river catfish
we busted it out

chopped some onions and some taters
a little cream, bacon and sweet-cream-unsalted butter
put to a slow simmering boil

eat
then an oyster cracker
was almost like sugar in my tea

say it ain't so

franklin ted
nice talking to you last night
four hours almost
glad to hear you're still a libertarian
after talking to you i still
have one question
just what the hell is a libertarian?
i googled libertarian and found several vague definitions
hedonist, selfish-self centered asshole, etc.
then i remembered jim carroll's song
written during the wasteland of his heroin addiction
he wrote
"nothing's true and it's all permitted"
much as i want to
i can't buy into that
if there are no limits
how will gravity hold?

introducing thunderbeaver

Folks, we've word from the vast northland just south of Canada of a potential new contributor to our odd forum here at Hootenanny. Thunderbeaver, a former frat brother and great friend for a long time wishes to express his opinion about all things Hoot. And we shall let him. Starting when he get's around to signing up.

for the modern toastmaster

continuing the toaster theme introduced recently
this elegant toaster, designed by George Watson, pulls bread through a heated element, depositing it in a V-shaped receiving station
designer's own words:
There has been little development of the toaster since the start of the century, whilst other appliances have developed and improved incorporating new technologies and thinking, toaster have remained relatively untouched. When the toaster was first invented eating toast was a social activity that took place on the breakfast table, these days toasters have been relegated to cheap plastic objects hidden away in the kitchen landscape. This toaster is designed to engage the user, re-invigorating the social context of toasting by questioning everything about what we toast with today. I was also keen to make playful object to be proud of having on your breakfast table. Slip moulded bone china allowed me create this intricate and sculptural form, but also provided the material longevity that I required. This is a toaster that brings life and joy to a stagnant domestic appliance, and iconic object for the home.

history of wall (part 2)

On October 1, 1893, Charles Hardin was arrested in Carrol County Missouri on charges of horse thievery. On condition that he leave the state and not return, Charles traveled north and west to eastern Pennington County, South Dakota and set up camp on the Cheyenne River near Pedro not far from the wagon route from Ft. Pierre to Rapid City in the Black Hills. Charles became a mail carrier for the US Post Office and was the first mail carrier in the area to travel by vehicle across the rutted, bumpy prairie. It is not a matter of history where or how Charles acquired his first Model T Ford, but it is a matter of thoughtful speculation.
It has been put forward that Charles robbed an ox-drawn wagon full of gold bound for the railhead in Ft. Pierre. To date, no stronger argument has been put forth and it would explain the hookers and beer.
Charles Hardin was brutally robbed and killed in Chicago, IL in 1912, 5 years after playing an important, though hardly noticed role in the establishment of Wall. The infamous Hardin Hotel was Wall's first and only full service brothel. Today little is known of the establishment and the town elders, a tight-lipped bunch of semi-illiterates, have mostly passed away.
HOOTENANNY staff have peeled away several layers of the old onion behind which the history of the Hardin Hotel stands silent and mute. In future posts, that sordid history will be revealed. Though reputations may be damaged and/or altogether lost in the telling, it is a story that must be told.

is it schwag?

Now you can tell before you light up. Did dude bring his schwag or his wicked bud?

modern marvel

was a fisherman

great tune from Mike Scott and the Waterboys
reminds me of a couple of fishermen
who fish elsewhere now

like a cheesecake mom

i was watching late night tv
and the dude was interviewing David Arquette.
he said his mom
"was like a cheesecake mom".
that triggered a memory.

i remembered i'd met a dude that had met him
in phoenix.
i was in town in april 2001.
my buddy ted came over from roswell, nm.
at the Sheraton on Dunlap we asked the concierge for a good steakhouse
and for a driver.
couple of suggestions later were in a Lincoln piloted by "skip".
we announce our intentions and needs
and "skip" gets us rolling.
shortly after driving us by Black Angus (a chain) which we decline,
he gets us to Hunter, a great, but now defunct cellar steakhouse with an incredible wine list, fantastic steaks and a shitload of expensive single malts.
on the way
he mentions
he'd driven David Arquette to the same restaurant
after a similar foray and similar decisions.
neither Ted nor i can fathom who the fuck David Arquette is
we look at each other like - who?
"skip" says, Patricia Arquette's brother and that helps, but not very much.
we enjoy an evening at Hunter Steakhouse then call the service for return delivery.
we specifically request "skip",
driver of the star(s).
he doesn't show.
he sends a replacement.
we continue to request "skip" throughout the weekend,
but we never see him again
either he never existed
or Ted and i are not stars
enough for "skip".

spiders on drugs

an informative video regarding the effect of various drugs on a spider's web-building abilities

wall, sd (first in a series)

The Unedited History of The Beginning of the Town of Wall

In the darkness of a cold spring in 1907, when the hard scab of prairie rejected infrequent rain and hungry folk wandered aimlessly like cattle searching for onions, saltpeter and bark-potatoes, a town arose next to the nearly completed junction of the Chicago & Northwestern Railroad. The name of the new town was "Wall" because of an abrupt break from the flat prairie land to the rough badlands formations just east. This break forms an eight-mile barrier that had been known as the Wall by the Missouri Arikara for many years. As government took hold, that name planted and held largely due to site specific advertising that, while it may have run afoul of the law, was effective nonetheless. It didn't hurt when the US Government built an Interstate Highway to feed it's growing nuclear habit, with underground silos spread far and wide. Each more expensive and ultimately less useful than a casually constructed Boy Scout camp latrine.

Wall is situated in a corridor between Pierre, the state capitol, and Rapid City, largely as a result of the gold mining days of the late 1870?s and the treaty breaches that the US Government neglected or instrumented against the Lakota beginning in the 1840's. Reparations for the theft are still outstanding even though the US Supreme Court has long since determined that the breach was nothing more than pure theft. The Lakota Nation has refused monetary redress in preference of the full legal title they deserve as original possessors.

The first building in Wall was a dirt-sod shanty, maybe 80 by 40 foot, built by entrepreneur Harry Fuller and crew of rough-shod, thick-boot-soled-banjo-hicks. Though not intended as a cafe, so many persons stopped there that the Fuller crew put up a table outside the building and served meals, including hot grilled jacket shanks, bark-potatoes and stolen kegs of Canadian bear piss beer. Cellar roots, chokecherries, prairie radishes and shade bush thistles were added to the menu in season.


On July 10, 1907, the Hendrickson Land Company opened the sale of town lots on the homesteads of Gene and Bill Mackrill. This date was taken as the birthday of the town and has been celebrated annually ever since. On that day, the first lots sold were on the west side of Main Street in Block 3. The Mackrill's sold, gathered their cash and fled east. They had no misgivings about the viability of the new township not like many to come later.

long way home

i still can't process
so here's norah jones

distillers

we gotta get back to the base

My Brother Loved Football

Eric

I regret to inform you that I did not win the fantasy football league this year
I did do fairly well
going 10-7
not good, but not bad

I was done in by our dear, mutual friend and nemesis Crunchtime
I lost both attempts to what I thought was an inferior squad, statistically speaking
But I was plainly out coached by a worthy opponent and friend and I admit it

I'm also happy to report that the Commissioner
Ran the league as haphazardly as ever
We've both held that role in our own leagues
So we knew his approach, and the associated struggle and strife

I'm sure we'll have the final results
Before we put your ashes in your chosen locale
I'll beam them out when the Commissioner gets around to issuing invoices

- Commissioner, I'll write my check after the service

Thanks for bringing me into ESFL in 1991
Back when you did it all on paper
And the scoring out of the Dallas Morning News
16 self addressed stamped envelopes to get the weekly reports
About every three weeks or so we'd get one

It brought you and me back in touch
Stats, trades, scoring rules, and hey what's up with you man
And continued all this time
No one here will know what I mean, but it settled the Merle Haggard issue
The broken ankle, which you recalled as your fault and I as mine ...
The Deep Creek Fishing Trip
That extremely ugly, copper-colored Plymouth Fury

I would rather have the chance to argue with you about these things than have you go

But you can't win an argument without an opponent

And I suspect you're looking down right now and regretting

AS MUCH AS I AM

A chance to do so again

bastards of young

i post this for three primary reasons
1. this is my favorite band of all time
2. this is the best rock video ever
3. we were all bastards of young

souvenirs

this was one of my brother's favorites - and mine

easy lucky free

don't you weep

13

i keep putting these videos up because they are artists that were favored by my brother Eric and/or my nephew Alec
Alec loved Elliot Smith and Eric started listening because of Alec
this is Elliot doing an old Big Star tune

see yah

what sarah said

shine on me baby
cause it's raining in my heart

lightness

it's not dark yet

but it's getting there

a poem from henry chinaski starts now ...

washed-up, on shore, the old yellow notebook
out again
I write from the bed
as I did last
year.
will see the doctor,
Monday.
"yes, doctor, weak legs, vertigo, head-
aches and my back
hurts."
"are you drinking?" he will ask.
"are you getting your
exercise, your
vitamins?"
I think that I am just ill
with life, the same stale yet
fluctuating
factors.
even at the track
I watch the horses run by
and it seems
meaningless.
I leave early after buying tickets on the
remaining races.
"taking off?" asks the motel
clerk.
"yes, it's boring,"
I tell him.
"If you think it's boring
out there," he tells me, "you oughta be
back here."
so here I am
propped up against my pillows
again
just an old guy
just an old writer
with a yellow
notebook.
something is
walking across the
floor
toward
me.
oh, it's just
my cat
this
time.

country don't give a fuck

I'm floating in a black balloon
I must make it through this afternoon
Shame shifting shadow down drifting
Rim's rolling now with all his might
Rain drops falling through a starry night
Sunrise on a choppy crusade

this is not goodbye

a fond farewell
The litebrite's now black and white
Cause you took apart a picture that wasn't right
Pitch burning on a shining sheet
The only maker that you'd want to meet
The dying man in a living room
Who's shadow paces the floor
Who'll take you out in the open door
This is not my life
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
It's not what I'm like
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
Who couldn't get things right
Fond farewell to a friend
He said really I just wanna dance
Good and evil matched perfect it's a great romance
I can deal with some physic pain
If it'll slow down my higher brain
Veins full of disappearing ink
Vomiting in the kitchen sink
Disconnecting from the missing link
This is not my life
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
It's not what I'm like
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
Who couldn't get things right
Fond farewell to a friend
I see you're leaving me and taking up with the enemy
The cold comfort of the in between
A little less than a human being
A little less than a happy high
A little less than a suicide
The only things that you really tried
This is not my life
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
It's not what I'm like
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
Who couldn't get things right
Fond farewell to a friend
This is not my life
It's just a fond farewell to a friend