Wish You Were Here

The Pink Floyd one, not the Incubus one. I really like that song. I think every band I've ever liked in the history of music has covered it. And why not? It's a great tune.

Mrs Candid, RN

That's right folks, she is finished! Graduation was a week ago, and the party a couple of days later. It's been a long and difficult couple years, evidence that she is a much better person than I (as though any evidence was necessary). So my wife, Mrs. Nightingale herself, will soon be taking care of patients and doing all the nursey things that make me feel a little queasy. Yet more of the aforementioned unnecessary evidence.

Congratulations Honey. I'm really proud of you. I love you.

US of E

As I mentioned the other day, I have been desperately searching for something new on the music front of late. Seemingly as a response Muse has released two singles for the upcoming album "The Resistance." Not only is it delightfully refreshing musically, but it's all "take the power back" and "shoot down the black helicopters" in a way only Muse can pull off. The radio single, "Uprising," is not exactly groundbreaking for them, but it's a solid tune none the less, and I can't get enough of it. Just today I heard the other single they've released on their website's media player. "United States of Eurasia" is everything the title suggests as far as paranoia and conspiracy. It's like Coast to Coast AM set to a hybrid between Queen and the "Pride and Prejudice" soundtrack. I know, it's hard to imagine, but if you can find it or care to join the Muse fan club I insist you check it out.

P.S. Here's a picture from the first time I saw them. It was in 2004 on the side stage at The Venue. There were like 200 people there. It was amazing.

Night Driving

One of the simplest pleasures of life. I used to do it when I was mad. I used to do it when I was depressed. I used to do it when I was happy, excited, or just wanted to think. Still one of my favorite scenes is the spread of city lights before me. Music takes on a whole new quality when it is the soundtrack to a night drive. Some night drives of particular significance:

• The trip to Zak's cabin. We listened to Coldplay and Radiohead. It was the last time we were all together before adult life began to take hold. I look at it as a major transition.
  
• A weekend with two night drives: one with and one without a certain girlfriend. I realized how much happier I was without her, and asserted my freedom from her grasp shortly thereafter.
  
• Crossing through the desert with my brother. He likely doesn't remember it, but it was one of the major events that turned us from brothers to friends in my eyes.
• Driving up to perform a few songs on the radio. This was actually the very early morning, but I count it. I stayed up for something like 30 hours that day, not only setting a record for consecutive waking hours, but laughing harder than any other event that readily comes to mind.
  

The other day I enjoyed a delightful night drive. My employment took me to a neighboring state, and having early morning appointments the following day it was imperative I head home rather than booking a hotel. I listened to Radiohead and Coldplay the entire drive, songs like "How to Disappear Completely" and "Bigger Stronger." I had the windows down to enjoy the smell of cool night air. I saw several amazing shooting stars, the kind you could never hope for in the city. At one point my headlights fell on some creature hiding in the brush alongside the highway waiting for a chance to dart across and it's eyes were suddenly ablaze with some inward flame. I worked 16 hours that day, but contrary to expectations didn't feel at all sleepy. I was both invigorated and relaxed, and order was restored to life.

I need to take more night drives.

Led Zeppelin...

...has been my favorite band since about age 12. Sure I have other favorite bands that have topped them, but those first few years created a permanent place in my heart. The first cd I ever owned was their fourth album. I listened to it over and over and over again. I did the same with every other album they have. I have probably watched "The Song Remains the Same" more than any other movie, excepting "Cars" with Mogli. During my early teens I had a full blown obsession. I learned how to play guitar almost exclusively on Zeppelin songs. I used to could listen to all 26 minutes and 52 seconds of live "Dazed and Confused" without ever losing interest. I loved them, and nothing has ever quite been the same since.

My musical adventures have taken me far and wide over the years. Stone Temple Pilots, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Radiohead, Coldplay, Muse, and countless others. I purchased Radiohead's "OK Computer" and "Kid A" on the same day, and listened to them both so much you'd think I would have worn the cds right through. When I got "Parachutes" I literally listened to it repeatedly for a bare minimum of 3 hours a day every day for a month. "Absolution" simply blew me away with it's powerful riffs, haunting melodies, and astounding creativity.

It's been a very long time since I've felt that way about a new band. There have been plenty that I liked, and some that I really liked, but nothing that has really got me going. This music famine has got to end.

My Sister

Eva. She has inspired me on many occasions. It is to her I owe my first email address, and by extension my introduction to the joys of instant messaging. After reading her blog for several years I created my own. Her cassette tape of Weezer's Blue album was the first music I ever loved just because I loved it. On one long trip to see family in a distant town I "borrowed" it and sat in the rear facing back seat of the family station wagon listening through it's entirety, from side A to side B and back again. The experience shaped much of my later life. She it was who first dubbed me "Foo Foo," after the little bunny who hopped through the forest, bopping field mice on the head. That name was morphed over time into things like "Frugey," and "Foph," which I am occasionally called by other siblings to this day. In the midst of that nick name's great success she coined another, simpler one: "Boy." And thus I have been known for the past ten plus years. So much of my life in fact that it is as familiar as my own given name. Indeed, I would not be remotely the same person today were it not for Dear Sister's influence.

Thank you Sister.

The Hike

There is a lovely set of mountains near my home. They are one of the best kept secrets in the area, most people only think of the larger mountains across the valley. Mrs Candid was away tonight at a screening for the new Harry Potter movie she was lucky enough to acquire a seat in. That meant it was just Mogli and me. We considered several activities for our evening of fun. The water park, but his right arm is currently broken and casted. The playground, but we do that all the time. MarioKart, but I didn't really want to be in the house. And thus it was decided that we would go on a bear hunt. What a bear hunt it was!

The higher elevation was gloriously cool, the foliage wonderfully bright and green, the air delightfully fresh and clean. We embarked on a rather wide trail along the eastern slope, one that I've ventured down only a short way previously. Considering the width, it shouldn't have surprised me to find not one, not two, but five vehicles that had tried driving, only to slide off the edge and down various embankments and be abondoned with no hope of retrieval. Mogli was especially excited about this, finding it exceedingly amusing to toss rocks down on top of them. Well, one of them, the rest were too far for his feeble left handed pitches to reach.

After quite a trip for such a small hiker, much more than I expected from him, especially without him begging me to carry him, I finally told him we needed to go back so we didn't get stuck after the sun went to sleep and the wild animals got us. He wasn't impressed. He just kept going and saying "there's a waterfall this way, we have to find it!" Unable to stop him, I dained to follow a while, hoping he really would get tired of the journey and head for home. Imagine my surprise when we came over a rise and heard the sound of running water. This of course encouraged him and he sped forward, eventually reaching a place where the path, quite narrow by now, reached a small stream with several waterfalls. We dipped our sticks in the water and splashed rocks around for a few minutes before turning back at last. The entire way home he continually reminded me that he was right and I was wrong: "I tell you there was a waterfall! You tell me no, but I tell you!"




Now for the true highlight of the trip. Closer to the trailhead, but still far enough to feel quite distant, I heard the last words I ever wanted to hear in such a situation: "I need to go poop." I confess a moment of panic as I searched the surrounding forest in vain for a commode or outhouse of any condition or variety that I knew would not be found. In fact, even were we at the car already it would have been at least twenty minutes to the nearest, and that in the opposite direction from home. I forced myself to be calm and helped him find a spot off the trail where he could heed nature's call. He had been saying all afternoon that he wasn't wearing underwear because Grammy didn't change him out of his pullup after the afternoon nap. I foolishly assumed that meant he was still in said pullup. For a moment I even considered letting him go and dealing with it when we got home, but quickly realized that would make the homeward voyage quite miserable for the both of us, and the pullup likely wouldn't contain the mess so well anyway. Either way it turned out he was being quite literal when he said he wasn't wearing any underwears; he had apparently ditched the pullup sometime between spraying the kitchen floor with furniture polish so the house would smell good and sliding around on the freshly polished floor. To make the occasion a little extra special, we had had chimichangas for dinner. Chimichangas give Mogli diarrhea. No underwears. No toilet. And you guessed it, no toilet paper. I cleaned him up with leaves. Yes, leaves. Some parts of the trail had these great big plants with massive leaves. Enormous, wonderful leaves. This part of the trail had little tiny leaves.

It was one of the worste experiences of my life.

But on the way down the canyon we saw 5 deer!