Happy New Year's Eve

This is my final post of 2023.

I woke up this morning still despondent over the Detroit Lions' heartbreaking (and highly controversial) loss to the [fucking] Dallas Cowboys. Still, I managed to scrape myself out of bed and face the world.

After watching CBS Sunday Morning--a ubiquitous weekly activity--I went outside for a four(ish) mile walk to get as close to 10,000 steps as possible. As of this morning, I still needed about 8,000 steps to hit my 10,000 step per day average for the month of December. (Yes, I obsess over this stuff if you hadn't noticed).

Sadly, I will not finish with as many steps or miles as 2022, but I am blaming that on one big FitBit equipment malfunction I had while in DC during SuburbsFest. I also came up short on steps two weeks ago during the particularly trying several days I went through with my mom's illness. (She is--fingers crossed--on the mend).

When my exercise was over, we all piled in the Kia Telluride and drove out to tiny Metamora for an early dinner at the historic White Horse Inn. I wasn't thrilled about driving an hour to eat a meal on New Year's Eve, but whatever. A certain family member decided to use the gift certificate we'd given her for Christmas, so most of the dinner was free...(or was it? We had paid for the GC, so it really only felt free).

We rolled back home at about 6:30 PM, and that's where we are now: finally relaxing while older son plays funny YouTube videos on our TV.

I wish everyone out there a Happy New Year!

Simple Minds, part 2

Following up on my Simple Minds post, I'm not even sure I can remember where I was going with that. 

I had several of those albums (with the exception of Sons and Fascination and Street Fighting Years) on vinyl, but I don't get the chance to listen to my vinyl as much as I'd like, and vinyl is not portable. As has been established in this blog, I don't like streaming in the car and really don't stream much music unless I am bored with podcasts, need some inspiration, or want to sample some music. It has been fun hearing this music on CD, and I now have heard Street Fighting Years (the 1989 follow-up to Once Upon a Time) for the first time ever. It only took me 34 years. The album flies in the face of Once Upon a Time, as the band ventures into more subdued, almost jazzy, almost bluesy, almost prog-y directions and Jim Kerr eliminates the more bombastic, arena-ready vocals of OUaT and even Sparkle in the Rain. It's easy to see why the album didn't sell well and baffled most listeners at the time.

Simple Minds' original bass player Derek Forbes appeared on one of The Hustle, one of my favorite music podcasts. That helped to re-ignite my interest in Simple Minds. He told some wonderful stories of his time in the band, all in his thick Scottish brogue. 

Saltburn

I actually will get back to that Simple Minds post at some point--maybe this weekend. No promises, but I will try.

I also realize that I promised to list my Spotify Top Five podcasts from the previous few years. I haven't forgotten about that.

 

Tonight, I decided to watch the movie Saltburn, which is now streaming on Amazon Prime. It could probably be subtitled "The Talented Mr. Quick" due to its similarity to The Talented Mr. Ripley.

Barry Keoghan plays Oliver Quick, an awkward Oxford student who wants desperately to fit in with the uppercrust students. He becomes infatuated with the handsome, confident, and filthy rich Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi, of Euphoria). Eventually, Oliver and Felix become friends, culminating in Felix inviting Oliver to spend the summer with Felix and his eccentric family at the Catton's enormous English estate. Felix's parents are played brilliantly by Richard E. Grant and Rosamund Pike.

As soon as Oliver arrives at Felix's mansion, strange and disturbing events take place. Oliver's obsession with Felix might be going too far, and Oliver just might not be who he seems. [No spoilers].

While I did find the movie a bit muddled, I also found it frequently funny and entertaining.

Happy Boxing Day

I am at home on the couch watching older son commandeer the television, which is fine because there is nothing I really want to watch anyway. I think we will have anime and funny YouTube videos in our future. 

We are watching a compilation of real-life car accidents taken from dash cams--more like "fender benders" that people walk away from, and nothing catastrophic or fatal. In a weird way, these are actually quite fascinating to see. It's shocking to see how terrible some of these drivers are.

I am happy to report I have started reading Absolute Beginners again, as I promised I would. I hope to finish it by New Year's Eve. I want to get just one more book into my "books read in 2023." 

My four-day weekend concludes today, but I think I can handle a three-day work week. It should be pretty "chill" at work, and there doesn't appear to be any bad weather that will disrupt driving. Smooth sailing [knock on wood] to my NEXT four-day weekend that starts on December 30.

Christmas dispatch

I am at another family holiday thing watching family members unwrap Christmas presents. There are many, many gifts, so this might be awhile. I am sipping a bourbon on the rocks as I spectate.

We saw the 2023 musical version of The Color Purple earlier and it was good, much better than I expected. I am not sure if it will make my top ten of the year, but it should make top fifteen.

Christmas Eve

I will have to put "part 2" of the Simple Minds post on hold.

We just returned from our annual Frankenmuth Bavarian Inn bacchanalia. Unfortunately, for reasons touched upon here, my parents couldn't join us. I hope that next year, fingers crossed, we'll all be in good health.

So now we head off to "Christmas Eve, round 2" with the other side of the family. I will get back with you tomorrow.

Simple Minds

I recently acquired this "Classic Album Series" collection of the band Simple Minds. During this tough week, Simple Minds was my soundtrack during my drives between Lansing, Owosso, and Flint. I started from the arty, decidedly non-poppy, Roxy Music/Krautrock-inspired Sons and Fascination, into the ever-so-slightly bouncier New Gold Dream 81 82 83 84, on to the even tighter Sparkle In the Rain, and then the post-"Don't You Forget About Me" blockbuster LP Once Upon a Time. Once Upon a Time features the hits "Alive and Kicking," "Sanctify Yourself," and "All the Things She Said." (The collection also includes the band's 1989 album Street Fighting Years, but I haven't gotten to that one yet).

I wish I could say I was "cool" and was on board with Simple Minds pre-"Don't You Forget About Me," but that would be a lie. I didn't know who they were until that song became a hit in summer 1985, and I bought the 45 RPM single at the Woolworth in Caro, Michigan. (I still have it). It was in the fall of '85 that Once Upon a Time was released, and I eventually bought the vinyl. It was one of a handful of albums I played the hell out of until the gamechanger of R.E.M.'s Life Rich Pageant in summer 1986.

To be continued...

Ugly Christmas Sweater

The "ugly Christmas sweater" post I promised you:

An Update

The "post-a-day in December" attempt will not happen.

This week has been a doozy, with my mom having a health scare that landed her in the hospital on Monday. It was quite scary for a few days, but I am happy to report she is on the mend. Here is a lesson for the uninformed (as we were until recently): urinary tract infections, particularly in older folks, are serious business. We found out the hard way. Maybe later I will go into more detail. Suffice it to say the last few days have involved a lot of driving back and forth to the hospital.

I am writing to you, my adoring audience of maybe a half-dozen, from I-96 on the way to pick up older son from the airport. We are looking forward to seeing him.

Brief post

I don't have much to update today other than I finished the Daniel Clowes book, but was too tired to start any other books tonight.

I am sure I will have much more to write about in the coming days. Tonight, I'm must too tired to write anything of substance.

Reading update

Remember when I said I would pick up Absolute Beginners?

I lied.

Okay, I didn't really lie. I fully intended on resuming with Absolute Beginners...but on Friday, my library hold for Daniel Clowes' new book, Monica, came in; and my hold for a short story collection by Michigan author RS Deeren's short story collection, Enough to Lose.

I generally try to read anything Daniel Clowes publishes, since he is my favorite cartoonist/comix artist/comix author/graphic novel person.

So, I am reading yet another graphic novel.

I have to get over my constant downplaying of graphic novels/comix. I do love them, but there is a part of me that snobbily and unfairly doesn't quite consider them "real" books. (Yet, as I said, I enjoy them quite a bit and have to get over this notion that they are somehow "less important" than non-illustrated books).

I am about 2/3 of the way through Monica and then should at least try the Deeren book to see if I like it. He's from the Thumb and I think that is where most or all of these stories are set. I found that intriguing when the book crossed my desk at work.

I swear, though, that I will eventually return to Absolute Beginners. I have to FINALLY finish the Colin Macinnes "London Trilogy" 25+ years after I started it (and more than 60 years after it was written).

Ugly Christmas Sweater

This morning, I did something I have never done before: I ordered an "ugly Christmas sweater," or more accurately, a "silly Christmas sweater." When it arrives, I will reveal the design and theme here. It should arrive by Tuesday. 

If I had thought about getting a silly Christmas sweater earlier, I would have opted for either a Black Sabbath-themed one or one with a pentagram and the phrase "Hail Santa." Unfortunately, neither one would arrive before Christmas unless I shelled out some exhorbitant shipping price, so I decided against those. Maybe next year. I will probably have to write a reminder in my calendar for December 1, 2024 with the note, "you are probably not feeling Xmas spirit now, but order your Xmas sweater anyway."

Younger son has commandeered the television, so we have jumped from a Hallmark Christmas movie on PlutoTV to some show about an airliner crash. In any case, L. and I will be heading out soon to see the new movie, Wonka. I will report about it later.

Plenty of "nice" today

The Christmas tree is up and decorated, and that is nice.

Michigan State basketball rose from the ashes today and beat undefeated and 6th ranked Baylor in convincing fashion, and that is nice.

The Detroit Lions shook off the doldrums and throttled the Denver Broncos, 42-17, and THAT is nice.

So plenty of nice things happened today.

In other news, I knocked out a five-kilometer run, which I did DURING the Michigan State basketball game because I was convinced I would jinx them if I rushed home and watched the game on television. I needed to get out there and get exercise anyway. If the weather is reasonably decent and there is sunlight, I absolutely have to get outside and take advantage of it.

I did, however, watch the entire Lions game, which caused me a little bit of stress because I'm not used to the Lions playing meaningful games this late in the season. They are usually hopelessly irrelevant by this time of the year. Thankfully, this is not the case this season.

With that, I will wrap up today's post and try for a more substantial one tomorrow.

My Friday

I successfully procured a new debit card, so here's hoping I can keep it "uncorrupted" for a while.

Tonight was essentially a glass of red wine, curry chicken, naan, samosa, and then one of the silliest teen comedies I have seen in awhile, Bottoms. It is like a combination of Superbad, Booksmart, and Fight Club. Quite fun if also completely ridiculous. In short, a perfect movie for a Friday night when your brain is fried.

This morning, I played The White Stripes' Elephant on the way to work and on the way hoe. How is it that the album was released twenty years ago? I already felt a little old in 2003. The album was a breath of fresh air then, after I hadn't been paying much attention to new music between 2001 and 2003. I was only vaguely familiar with The White Stripes in '03, even though they were from Detroit. That's how out if it I was. 

Not sure what point I'm trying to make, other than Elephant has held up well, and of course "Seven Nation Army" has amazingly become the biggest college football jock jam ever. Who would have seen that coming in 2003?

Of Corrupted Debit Cards and Bizarre Movies

In today's excitement, I discovered my debit card has become corrupted yet again, so I need to get a new debit card for the second time in less than a year.

Yippee!

I was home alone this evening, which meant it was "watch a weird movie" night. So after I had finished dealing with all the debit card bullshit (I STILL don't have a new card--gotta do that either tomorrow or Saturday), I watched the "experimental horror" movie Skinamarink. How do I describe this flick? It was made on a shoestring $15,000 budget, and is more eerie than scary. It plays like a fever dream one might have when one is sick. The film is comprised of mainly static images on incredibly grainy film stock. As far as plot, it is basically about two young children who are left alone at home during the night--or are they? It's hard to tell what exactly is going on. Are the kids imagining this? Is one of the kids imagining this? Is there a demon that is inhabiting the house? We do see ghostly images of the father and mother, but they are only shown sitting perfectly still on the edge of a bed and we don't see their faces. In fact, we never see the faces of the two children (Kaylee and Kevin), but only their feet and pajama-clad legs as they walk about the dark, grainy, utterly bizarre and unsettling house. My description doesn't do the movie justice because it's such a difficult movie to describe. Nothing much happens in the movie, and there is little to no action. The dialogue consists mainly of the children, in their small little kid voices, saying, "I'm scared," or "Dad?" (Trigger warning: if frightened children or kids seemingly in peril is not your jam, then you might want to avoid this. That said, it's hard to tell for certain if anything bad actually happens to the kids--the movie is so ambiguous that it leaves it up to the viewer to decide if the strange, unsettling, disorienting events in the house are real or a nightmare).

The bottom line is: I am not sure if I liked Skinamarink and I don't know what to make of it, but it's definitely one of the oddest movies I've ever seen. I have a feeling I will be thinking about it for days.

 All we did tonight was watch the new episodes of Slow Horses and Fargo, and I could barely keep my eyes open during Fargo.

Next reading, must finally finish Absolute Beginners.

1964: Eyes of the Storm by Paul McCartney

Last night, when I was griping about writing in the blog, I was taking a short break from finishing this book, 1964: Eyes of the Storm, by Paul McCartney (with a great introductory essay by Harvard history professor Jill Lepore).

The book features a treasure trove of photographs taken by McCartney in late 1963 and early 1964, none of which had been published before, and in fact had been in storage for decades. These candid photos of the Beatles and their entourage (Brian Epstein, George Martin, Mal Evans, Neil Aspinall, Cynthia Lennon, and others) document Beatlemania as it was exploding and taking the world by storm.

As I said, Jill Lepore's accompanying essay is excellent, as she places the Beatles in historical context by discussing many of the world events of '63 and '64 (Kennedy assassination, Civil Rights Act, Freedom Summer, Barry Goldwater and the Republican National Convention) and how the Beatles fit in.

Of course, the photos are the real selling point. The best ones have to be the color pics Paul took in Miami. We see the Fab Four relaxing poolside surrounded by their friends and loved ones. One gets the sense that these quite possibly were the last moments of bliss and serenity the band would experience until, say, they went to India in 1968. (And even that India trip was fraught with Ringo's dislike of the food, John's fallout with the Maharishi, and the crumbling relationships between Paul & Jane Asher and John& Cynthia). The Beatles look completely at ease in Miami Beach, splashing around in the pool, smiling, lounging, and just looking content with life just before their lives (and the lives of their entourage) will irrevocably change.

If you like the Beatles, I highly recommend this book. I only checked it out of the library, but might have to break down and buy it.

Another crappy post.

I am reading right now, so this will just be a short break to get my requisite post in. I will fill you in later on what I am reading, as I will have likely finished it by then. 

I have only 15 minutes to get this out there before midnight. As you can see, I am taking this "post a day" challenge seriously. Unfortunately, the upshot of this dedication is that half these post are utter crap. Maybe the crappy ones are more entertaining, though? Or maybe they're just...crap. I'll let you be the judge.

Okay, let me return to my book. Goodnight!

Got a Christmas tree!

We bought a Christmas tree today, and maybe by tomorrow we'll actually set it up in the living room. The actual process of getting the tree was so exhausting that we had little energy by the time we got home. (I am being just slightly tongue-in-cheek).

Aside from the tree acquisition, I didn't do too much today. I participated in a two-hour Rockin' the Suburbs podcast recording, then we talked to Avery on a video chat, and THEN went to get the tree.

After that, I must admit, I vegged out in front of the TV. I probably should have gone outside to get some steps in, but the damp coldness was uninviting. As soon as I complete this little post, I will try to get in some steps in the house before bedtime.

Strikers: A Graphic Novel

I finished by second consecutive graphic novel today, Strikers. If this book hadn't been so damned fun to read, I probably would not have mentioned it here. As I mentioned before, it's about a rag-tag youth hockey team (called "the Strikers") in Flint and takes place between the autumn of 1986 and winter of 1987. The historical and geographic detail is fairly impeccable, and mentions of IMA Sports Arena, the International Hockey League (IHL), the Flint Generals, the Flint Spirits, Carman-Ainsworth, and Lake Fenton (to name a few) were simply word candy for me. (To top if off, one of the fictional characters is said to have received a track & field scholarship to Michigan State).

Ostensibly, Strikers is aimed at children and youth readers, but there is plenty of humor that likely goes over kids' heads. For example, at one point in the book, the kids on the Strikers team go to IMA Sports Arena to see a Flint Spirits IHL game. The adult chaperone, who is the boyfriend of main kid character Evan's mother (are you following me thus far?) gets too drunk at the game to drive the kid home and has to "do the responsible thing" and call the mom to pick them up from the arena. (This is likely funnier in the book than I am describing it here). At another point in the book, Strikers enters full-blown Slap Shot mode when our heroes on the titular hockey team break into a bench-clearing brawl with the obnoxious rich kids on the opposing (and undefeated) "Blades" team. The fight is instigated when one of the Strikers players is knocked out cold by a flying hockey puck, hit intentionally errant by the biggest bully on the Blades. The Strikers receive the worst punishment of the two teams and are forced to forfeit the game.

One of the best passages of the book is when the boys are having some post-game burgers after their disastrous forfeiture. They are all feeling despondent when they see a special news report on the restaurant television about the 50th anniversary of the 1937 Flint General Motors strike ("strikers"...get it?!). The now elderly men talk about how brotherhood and the support of others helped them survive the long cold weeks of their strike against GM. The kids go from being bored by the news report to viewing these old auto strikers as heroes.

So, if you can't tell, I really dug this book. It was a tremendously fun two days of reading. Now, I should return to more adult fare.

A Nothingburger

I damned near forget to do this. It's 11:17 PM and I have a dog on my left and a cat purring in my face. Now he's licking my hand. I'm afraid this will be a nothingburger of a post.

My only accomplishment of note today was reattaching a coat rack to the wall. Here's hoping the new drywall anchors do their job.

Then we concluded the evening by watching season 3, episode 3 of Slow Horses. It is a damned good TV show. 

I also read a bit of Strikers. Should finish it soon.

I saw some Christmas lights...and they were okay

I got my 10,000 steps in and just flossed and brushed my teeth, so writing in here is my final "chore" before crashing in an hour or two.

We made our annual trip to the Christmas lights at the Potter Park Zoo. It was fine. I don't get overly excited about it and eventually get bored and cold and ready to leave after about an hour. My attitude is generally, "yep, there's some lights...and there's some more lights. Yep, they're shiny and bright...okay, let's go home now." I will say that the spider monkeys 🐒 in their enclosure were pretty damned entertaining, perhaps more than the Christmas lights. (Overheard one grade school-age kid say, "Is that monkey eating...poop?!?"). 

Yes, I know my blase attitude about the Christmas lights must sound like a combination of Scrooge and the Grinch.

I started reading yet another graphic novel. Lest you think I'm regressing mentally reading all these glorified comic books, this book takes place in Flint in 1986 and is about a youth hockey team. I saw the book come through my department at the library and upon inspection felt seen by the setting and subject matter. I was further sold by the accuracy of place names (Carman-Ainsworth High School, Lake Fenton, IMA Sports Arena, to name a few). Though I didn't play youth hockey, I knew a kid who did and I saw him play some games at Flint's IMA Sports Arena (which still exists under a different name).

The book is called Strikers, and I think I should be able to knock it out in a day or two.

Echo & the Bunnymen tix and musings

The big excitement today is that I bought tickets for Echo & the Bunnymen's May 25, 2024 concert in Detroit. So now I have something to shoot for as I/we endure the dark, gloomy, snowy winter months.

After reading the first two volumes of Will Sergeant's memoirs, and finally--for all intents and purposes--completing the EATB discography within the last few years, there was no way I was NOT getting tickets for this tour. It doesn't matter to me that, at this point, it's only Ian McCulloch and Will and they haven't released an album of new material since 2014 (the album Meteorites).

The only time I've seen EATB was summer 2017 at Pine Knob when they co-headlined with Violent Femmes. (I wrote a little bit about that show in this blog). Though it seemed most in the crowd that night were there for Violent Femmes, I was definitely there primarily for Echo.

Every so often, the subject of the now legendary 1987 Echo/Gene Loves Jezebel/New Order tour is mentioned. A Rockin' the Suburbs friend brought it up today and noted that he will also be seeing Echo on this 2024 tour, his first time since seeing them in '87. I regret not seeing EATB on that '87 tour. I had a chance to go. My old college friend Bill poked and prodded me to attend and now I haven't a clue as to why I didn't. Maybe I was worried about saving money for school? Lord knows I could have benefitted from getting the hell out of Caro for one night. Maybe I was worried about how I'd get to Pine Knob, as I didn't have the most reliable transportation in the world. I'm pretty sure I still had my grandma's hand-me-down 1972 Chevy Nova that was prone to stall at every stop sign and stop light until it was properly warmed up, which took about a half-hour. I doubt my parents would have been keen to let me borrow one of their cars. So I missed that show and didn't see Echo or New Order in their primes. (As for Gene Loves Jezebel, they are a band that has been forgotten by time, and I was never into them anyway).

Echo & the Bunnymen released their self-titled "grey album" in summer '87, had a moderate MTV hit with "Lips Like Sugar" --the song that had all the cool kids screaming "sell out!" at the top of their lungs, in the days when "selling out" was the biggest crime any underground musician could be accused of committing. Most prominently, EATB had their cover of the Doors" "People Are Strange" on the Lost Boys soundtrack. They seemed to be keeping pace with U2 as the next big thing from Britain/Ireland--and then Echo's drummer Pete de Freitas died a few years later in a tragic motorcycle crash (June 14, 1989) and the band's fortunes took a serious hit. 

After Pete died, Ian "Mac" McCulloch went solo, Will tried to soldier on with a new singer (with mixed results), and I lost interest in both Echo and Mac's solo career. It took about a decade-and-a-half for me to go back and re-discover the band as well as all the music they'd made that I ignored and missed. 

So here we are, almost four decades after I discovered the band, and I'm looking forward to seeing them--for only the second time--live in concert.

Freezing

I went for a run and darned near froze my ass off. Honestly, the older I get, the less I can tolerate Michigan winters, even when it's not that cold and not even technically winter.

It's late and I am exhausted, so I am wrapping this up. I might return later.

All Tomorrow's Parties: the Velvet Underground Story

I whipped through a non-fiction graphic novel about the Velvet Underground called All Tomorrow's Parties: the Velvet Underground Story. The author is Koren Shadmi. The book came through my department at the library about a month ago and I thought it looked like a fun read, and it was. Nothing earth-shattering, but a breezy read. My only complaint--and this is a complaint I have with most books--is the editing and proofreading should have been better, I noticed several spelling errors and some minor factual inaccuracies. Otherwise, the book was well done. The illustrations of the VU and the other characters are generally accurate, though Lou Reed's appearance occasionally borders on caricature, with an abnormally high forehead and rectangular head. But these are minor quibbles. If you're a fan of the Velvet Underground, you'll be entertained by this book.

The book focuses on the contentious relationship between Lou Reed and John Cale, and doesn't cover much beyond the point at which Cale was kicked out of the VU by Lou Reed. The book is also smartly bookended by Andy Warhol's funeral, when Reed and Cale met again after being estranged for several years. Inspired by their grief over Warhol's death, Reed and Cale recorded the album Songs for Drella. As the book points out, the "creative differences" resurfaced after the recording of the album and a tour promoting Songs For Drella was scrapped. (A few years later, the VU briefly reformed and toured, but Reed and Cale were too much like oil and water at this point, so the reunion was short-lived).

So, once again, if you are a Velvet Undeground fan (or maybe even just an Andy Warhol fan) and want a quick, enjoyable read, pick this book up.

Cleaning gutters, breaking down boxes, and finishing a book

It is a rainy, drizzly, overcast day here in Meridian Township, Michigan. Thankfully, it's not too cold. Don't get me wrong, there is definitely a damp chill in the air, but it's at least above freezing. (My phone says it's 39 degrees).

Our gutters were jam packed with leaves, branches, and muck. Who knows if the weather will ever get any better than it is today, and the next few weeks might be packed with Christmas-y preparations, so today seemed the best opportunity to clean them out. It's not a job I particularly love, especially when my hands practically freeze grabbing the muck out of the gutters, even when said hands are covered with garden gloves. I plugged away at the job, with a few podcasts as entertainment, and finished it this afternoon. I have to say that when the down spouts are unplugged and I hear that "flushing toilet" sound, it does give me incredible satisfaction.

After the gutters were finished, I broke down some of our kajillion cardboard boxes in the garage. The unfortunate result of us ordering lots of stuff online is that we have a constant backlog of cardboard boxes that need to be broken down and recycled. 

Eventually, I grew weary of freezing my tush off in the garage and the monotony of breaking down the boxes, so now I am back inside in the warmth of the house.

Now that I have bored you all to tears with my tales of domestic toil, I'll update you with news that is perhaps a bit more interesting.

I finally finished Will Sergeant's memoir Echoes. (It's the second in his series of memoirs, following the first volume Bunnyman, and covers the years 1980 to 1982. At this rate, it might take Will another 14 volumes to cover his entire life). I enjoy Will's self-deprecating sense of humor, and he does tell some good stories, but overall I just didn't find the book as compelling as Bunnyman. There are a few too many stories of "we toured here, then we toured there, then we came home, then we recorded a single, then we hit the road again..." I.e., a list of events with not quite enough in-depth analysis of what made these events significant). I would like a little more insight into Echo & the Bunnymen's songwriting and creative process. There is some of that, but just not as much as I'd like. For all my complaining, I will definitely be on board for whatever book Will publishes next, assuming he plans on continuing with his memoirs.

Spotify Wrapped

Another December tradition is annoying the living hell out of everyone on social media with ones "Spotify Wrapped" results (if one listens to music or podcasts on Spotify). 

With the death of Stitcher, and the irritation that is Amazon music, I have moved most of my streaming listens to Spotify. And yes, I know that Spotify is yet another evil empire that we aren't supposed to like or support. I know that Spotify is problematic and that it pays musicians a pittance. I don't like that at all. But when I'm at work, I have to stave off boredom by streaming music and podcasts. I also enjoy listening to podcasts while walking or running. It feels like I'm eavesdropping on someone else's fascinating conversations and keeps my mind active while I'm either freezing, sweating, or dodging potholes in the pavement and cars on the street.

I also don't pay for a Spotify subscription, so I just put up with the advertisements that run every 20 or 30 minutes during music streaming and pop occasionally during podcasts. 

As you all should know by now, I spend quite a bit on concert tickets, albums, CDs, and merch, so I do more than my share to support the artists I love. So I don't feel too guilty streaming music on Spotify once in a while. It helps pass the time and sometimes turns me on to new music.

That said, the vast majority of my Spotify streaming is dedicated to podcast listening, so I shall present to you--in reverse order--my top five podcasts (according to the Spotify overlords):

5) Armchair Expert with Dax Shepard. This one surprised me a bit. I didn't expect it to make the top five. Actor (and husband of Kristin Bell) Dax Shepard hosts this podcast with co-host Monica Padman. I don't listen too often to their interview episodes, but mainly enjoy their sidekick David Farrier, who does sort of an auxiliary "Armchair Expert' podcast called Flightless Bird. In Flightless Bird, Farrier takes on various aspects of American life through the eyes of a Kiwi (a flightless bird, get it?) from New Zealand. So topics of Flightless Bird have been barbecue, fantasy football, cars, health care, (to name a few). Farrier comes off as a sweet, funny, and sometimes naive guy, which adds to the entertainment value. He is also genuinely curious about "learning what makes this country tick" as he puts it.

As far as the actual main Armchair Expert episodes, my favorites are the "Armchair Anonymous" ones in which Dax and Monica invite listeners to talk about embarrassing or shocking events in their lives. These are based on prompts that Armchair Expert sends out, usually of a lighthearted, funny, or gross-out nature. Recent topics have been "piercing and tattoos," "bartending," "babysitting," and "Halloween." Some of the stories people share are doozies and defy credulity. Still, they are funny and entertaining.

4) The Watch. In the four years I have been doing "Spotify Wrapped," this is the first appearance of The Watch. This surprises me, because I think I've been listening to it fairly consistently for years. Hosted by longtime friends Chris Ryan and Andy Greenwald, The Watch is a witty and often hilarious look at the business and creative aspects of television. Chris Ryan is an editor at The Ringer and Andy Greenwald is a journalist, writer, screenwriter, and TV producer. Chris and Andy have great chemistry and I enjoy that just as much, if not more, than the topics they discuss.

3) Bandsplain. Making its first ever appearance in my "Wrapped." I love this show. Host Yasi Salek is funny and smart and really does her homework. Okay, talk about burying the lede. You might want to know what the podcast is about. Eh? Every week, Yasi and a guest take a deep dive into the life/lives and career of a musical artist. The most recent episode was an epic four-hour investigation of Blondie, and it was worth every single minute. My favorite episode of all, though, was the one about The Slits--and I'm not even a particularly big fan of The Slits. It was just THAT well-researched and thoughtful.

2) WTF with Marc Maron. The third time in four years that WTF has made my top five. It somehow missed in 2021 and I can only assume it was because I was listening to WTF on Stitcher and not Spotify. What more can be said about WTF, it is arguably the Granddaddy of all podcasts and I have been a loyal listener for well over a decade. This is the highest finish WTF has ever had in my Spotify Wrapped.

1) The Big Picture. This is The Big Picture's third consecutive appearance in my Spotify Wrapped top five and the first time it has ever landed the top spot. Another in The Ringer's large stable of podcasts, this one is hosted by Sean Fennessey and Amanda Dobbins. Sean and Amanda, who also possess great chemistry (I am half expecting to discover at some point that they are having an affair), talk about all things movie-related. They are funny, erudite, and playfully combative at times. 

As for podcasts that did not make the list, I have absolutely no idea how Rockin' the Suburbs missed the top five. I am pretty sure I have listened to almost every episode this year. I can only assume that Spotify Wrapped is based on total minutes, and RTS--with episodes that usually only clock in at 15-20 minutes, just didn't have enough minutes to make the top five. I feel a little bad that RTS missed the top five and almost feel an apology is in order.

Tomorrow, I will publish by Spotify Wrapped Top Five podcasts for 2020, 2021, and 2022.

Hello December

It's December 1, which means it's time for the "31 Blog Posts of December Challenge." (By the way, there is no "challenge," it's just something I made up, like, just now. I did it last year, so why not try again.

So right now, I am watching the NBC Nightly News (yippee--more horrible scenes from Israel) and poured myself a Friday night glass of wine.

This morning, I took a break from Guadalcanal Diary and popped Depeche Mode's Memento Mori into the Mazda CX-5 CD player. "My Favourite Stranger," in particular, made a perfect soundtrack for dark, gloomy, rainy, grey 7:45 AM Lansing. The ominous foreboding sound of that song suited the morning perfectly.

No sooner do I decide to write in here than the dog has decided to trot around the house with this yellow duck "baby" and cry incessantly. It's sort of his evening tradition. As best as I can tell from reading about dog behavior, he is looking for a place to bury the duck, as if it's an animal he's killed. Yeah, pretty gruesome, I suppose. Eventually, he'll get tired of this and move on to something different--preferably crawling up into a ball and sleeping on the sofa. In any event, this routine is annoying as hell, particularly when I am trying to write. 

Aside from the morning, the day at work was not terribly eventful. I got bored with podcast listening by early afternoon and switched to music. My Spotify Wrapped for this year was 100 percent "rock," so I think that for 2024 I need to change it up a bit, so in addition to listening to the usual suspects, I also threw in Public Enemy and Wu-Tang Clan, and greatly enjoyed the Wu-Tang listening. "Bring Da Ruckus" was hitting particularly hard by about 4 o'clock in the afternoon and I had to do all in my power not to shout out, "BRING DA MOTHERFUCKIN' RUCKUS!" I'm not sure that would have gone over too well at the library. Regardless, I need to put Wu-Tang on more consistent rotation.

I will wrap this up for now. I'll be back tomorrow.