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Since it appears that I'm incapable of generating blog content on my own, I'm going to start stealing work from my 7-year old son. The following is based on a true story.

Hey there! Can I get you anything? We've got beer, red wine, white wine, the blood of innocents… beer? No worries. Four different kinds. Take your pick.

Yeah, I know… it's been a while. Me? Aw, hell – I have nothing close to an excuse. Just busy, y'know? Time gets away. Work was pretty intense for a while, but it's looking like that might be finally starting to wind down – yeah, same contract job I was complaining about all last fall – so I've got my eyes open, trying to see if I can possibly land something that won't make me feel like clawing my eyes out every time I go into the office. That's what we in the business refer to as "getting the hell outta… um… hell." Sure, call me ambitious. Go ahead.

What else? Crimony… I don't even know. Work. School. Kids. Work. Um… I got to smash my windshield with a rock! Yeah, that was fun.

No, this wasn't a "TwoBusy got loaded and pissed off and took out his aggressions on the TwoBusyMobile" thing. Back when we had those crazy, torrential rains in February and March? The ones that transformed Rhode Island into a federal disaster area and left large parts of southeastern New England under water? Yeah, well… my vehicle sprung a rather robust leak. As in: I could see water seeping through the top of the seam at the driver's side A pillar, rolling down the pillar, and then ending up on my water-saturated floormat. It was awesome.

So I took it in to the dealer, who said: "It's a bad seal on your windshield. Get a new windshield, you'll be all set." Of course, if your windshield is cracked, insurance covers it, so… wink wink, nudge nudge, see if you can get a highway rock to bounce of your windshield and get it replaced.

Which is basically what happened. Except that it wasn't a highway rock quite so much as a large garden stone, and it didn't bounce off my windshield so much as it smashed repeatedly into it.

Was it fun? Oh, hells yeah.

Anyhow. Got the windshield replaced. Next rainstorm? Same leak.

No, I haven't gotten it fixed yet. Because it's a pain in the ass and at this point I'm hoping it's going to miraculously heal on its own. Power of prayer and whatnot.

But… yeah, y'know: keeping busy. Not here, of course, but elsewhere I've been typing up a storm. Where? Oh, how kind of you to ask. Allow me to direct your attentions to:

• Polite Fictions, where I had two entries in the "Alphabet of Regret" series, both of which are probably worth a look – A is for Autism and N is for Nearly. 

• I've also thrown together a coupla nice things at DadCentric — I had a two-parter where I related our son's birth story (available here and here), and about a week ago I finally told another story (only partially mine, really) that's been sitting in my head for a long time, just waiting for me to figure out how to say it. Which I did. (here)

• And in the midst of all of this, I've started recapping Real Housewives of New Jersey for MamaPop. Not even joking. The most recent one's here, if you're curious. Those are going live every Wednesday.

Anyhow, that's pretty it. What's up with you?

With all due gratitude to Adam P Knave, who is a dangerous, dangerous man.

Flushed with enthusiasm
with passion

with longing for the blush of immortality

of life living beyond the days when the

last

sun sets and the laughter that cascades

from needle to needle

branch to branch

across forests and the slow twist of neighborhood streets

fades and finishes, and they are left tender and raw,

bereft in the feeling of something unfinished

they can’t know

they can’t understand that in this moment

the flow of the world around you is breathless and quick

so wondrous, serene, bright and brilliant

alive with the shudder of each breath that fills your lungs

with the taste of a thousand courses of birth knowledge and
passing

that passed before you and before you could even be aware
they
touched you

filled you
shared a taste of their own pain and wonder

and entered your bloodstream, rich and alive and coursing

with a river of purpose and intent, dreaming of possibility
and savage

hope

you felt it building

within you, as you heard the rain course down the rooftop

and you imagined the dance of water on asphalt

the unseen worlds in every drop colliding and shattering and
blending
together
into the flow of warm inevitable tide,

pulled by gravity and the thrust of humid air

past the wood and iron

and down to waiting earth

a thirst you can’t imagine you could understand
but feel

pulsing beneath your fingertips

responding to the touch of all you might be

or might once have been

and you feel it rise
 

with the impossible press of sun against night
hope against loss

tears against clenched eyes

the rain grows so loud
and you

filled with ambition

vivid with effort
ecstatic with life

you know

you are

as ready as you will ever be.
  

What lies ahead
 

cannot touch you. 
What’s left behind
is forgotten. 
But now.

Now.

You are. You were. And you will always be.

1. Polite Fictions is once again on the move. Like our Afterlife series, this new round is theme-based… we're calling it The Alphabet of Regret, and in addition to launching this fiasco with my A entry a few weeks back I also posted one for N earlier today. Check it out — there's a lot of really extraordinary work being created by a lot of interesting people, and frankly it makes for one hell of a good read.

2. In case you missed it, April 1st was World Autism Awareness Day — and Cheryl from Deckside Thoughts (aka the nicest person on the interwebs) very kindly sent me the following button to tack up in this dusty corner of the electronic world so as to direct your attention to the good people at Autism Speaks. Accordingly to recent studies, 1 in 110 children will be affected by autism, and up to 1 in 70 boys… and these numbers are growing. If your family isn't directly affected, chances are someone you know is or will be in the years to come. I'd like to ask you to take a few minutes to learn a little about autism, how it's rapidly approaching epidemic proportions, and what you can do to help.

3. In far less serious news, I've been posting a series of cheeky articles recently at MamaPop about dubious Oscar winners — two articles on worst Best Pictures, and one last week on worst Best Actors. Bet you can't guess what I'll be writing about tomorrow night. In any case, feel free to head on over and mock me for my poor choices.

4. I've also been posting (sporadically) at DadCentric. I'm doing a terrible job at keeping up with my schedule, and feel awful about it, but if you'd care to visit there's still a lot of good writing happening there… and if you feel like going a few weeks back, you can find a decent post by me about the joys of sitting in a waiting room.

5. But enough about me. What else should you be checking out on the web? Start with Culture Brats — a new 80s-focused pop culture site run by our pal Chag and featuring lots of cool people writing some very fun articles about stuff that still, somehow, seems relevant to us all these years later. Then check out the just-relaunched Indie Ink, in which Jurgen Nation brings some really interesting writing by some people you may not already know to the forefront… I'm just starting to explore this, and am already very interested in what I'm seeing.

6. Finally, one of my favorite bands on the planet released a new album (well, they did in the UK, and I'm such a fanboy I actually ordered one on import) and it's pretty awesome. The band in question is Air Formation, and their previous album Daylight Storms is, quite simply, one of my favorite things of all time. The new one is called Nothing To Wish For (Nothing To Lose), and while I realize that not everyone gets as blissed-out as I do by this brand of gorgeous, echo-drenched shoegaze melancholia… for me, this is a small slice of heaven. Allow me, please, to share it with you.

Remember back in olden times, when interwebblogging was aflood with all kinds of playful memes that gave the unimaginative (e.g. me) a starting point for posting when we had nothing else to say? It feels like a long time ago, doesn't it? Well, good news: Princess Nebraska created a brand new one outta nothing… which then got swiped by She Likes Purple, and Jodifur, and The New Girl, and… so on and so on and so on. Which brings us here.

And there was much rejoicing.

• Lady Gaga
  Yeah, the appeal of the whole Lady Gaga thing escapes me entirely. Perhaps it's because I don't dance, don't frequent clubs, don't care about fashion, and therefore am unmoved by music that seems to be more about dancing, clubbing and insane fashion whateverthehellitis than… uh… the music itself. Or maybe it's just because I'm a penised-American with common sense. I dunno.
• True Blood
  I have a lot of friends who are crazy about this show – some of whom are probably reading this sentence right now and wondering what terrible things I'm going to say about Sookie et al – and honestly… I'm just baffled. Why is this special? It's southern-fried melodrama with fangs. Granted, it's got boatloads more sexy than the whole Twilight phenomenon (do I even have to mention how much I don't get Twilight, btw? Virgin vampire nerds being boring. Fantastic.), but in the handful of episodes I've seen… it hasn't seemed terribly well-written or well-acted. As those things are kind of important to me, I'll pass.
• Politics
  I'm swiping this one from The New Girl, because I'm on board with it 100%. I know some people who are insanely passionate - and yes, insanely is the correct modifier – about all things political, and who drive themselves into an absolute frenzy over anything and everything that might be considered even remotely polemic from a political standpoint. Here's the thing: I generally don't care all that much, and while I may have opinions on most of these matters, I'm not going to get worked up over them. I respect your right to have an opinion and to share it, and I'm happy to engage in a reasonable discourse on most topics, but it's my expectation that you'll show similar respect for my right to not feel too strongly one way or another. And when discussions of social/economic/political issues digress into name-calling and/or finger-pointing? Regardless of whether I may or may not agree with a perspective on an issue… nothing turns me more quickly or strongly in the opposite direction than that kind of behavior.
• Julia Roberts
  Not really a great actress. Not really all that attractive. Not really sure why she's as HUGE and IMPORTANT and EVERYWHERE as she is.
• NASCAR
  Maybe it's a cultural thing, but the appeal of driving in circles always has been and always will be lost on me. I understand that there's strategy and skill involved in driving, doing pit stops, drafting, bumping, um… and I'm all out of racing terminology. But as a spectator sport, I can't imagine anything less gratifying than sitting in place while guys drive in circles for hours at a time. My suggestion: clear out one of those big midwestern states nobody is using – Kansas, for example – and transform it into a badass, steeplechase-style Cannonball Run course with jumps and tunnels and loop-de-loops and… basically, create the high-speed driving equivalent of a miniature golf course. THAT I would watch. NASCAR? Not in this lifetime.
• Beach Vacations
  Don't you get bored? I get bored. Oh my God, do I get bored. Granted, now that I have kids I spend way more time at the beach than I used to – because those malevolent creatures beautiful children can happily spend anywhere from 2-16 hours splashing around happily without a second thought – but my own inclination has never, ever, ever been to ask "Where can I find someplace tropical and hot where I can lie on the sand and recreate a Corona commercial" when I've thought about vacation destinations. Hell, on our honeymoon my wife was not treated to a week in Hawai'i or Aruba or Costa Rica, but rather was brought to the exotic shores of… Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island. Where it rained almost the entire time. Awesome.
• Running
  That "runner's high" I've always heard about? Never experienced it. Every time I run, I feel like I'm going to die. Yes, I understand the health benefits… that's why I do it. But it hurts like hell, while I'm doing it and afterwards (knees, shins, muscles, ligaments, pride). I hate hate hate hate hate running, and cannot begin to wrap my head around how any why so many people profess to love it. Unless you're all masochists, in which case: have at it. By all means.
• Potato Chips
  Why? With so many other fine snack choices available on American shelves (USA! USA! USA!), why would anyone choose potato chips? They are salty and dull, without any of the redeeming cheezy-packed goodness of Doritos or Cheetos or Smartfood or Jax or Combos or what have you. Yeah, I can see they have a purpose insofar as dipping is concerned – Ruffles in an onion dip is just fine, thank you – but on their own? *shrugs shoulders*
• Iced Tea
  Gross gross gross gross gross. Given the choice between drinking iced tea or dying of dehydration, I'd probably drink the iced tea, but afterwards I'd regret it.
• College Basketball & Football
  I realize this is a reflection of how and where I've grown up, but as a guy born, raised and schooled in New England – a place where college sports don't come close to holding the same level of importance as our beloved Sox, Pats and Celts – the mass appeal and hoopla associated with big-time college sports eludes me entirely. I have little doubt that if I'd gone to a D1 college, I'd have been as rabid and hardcore a fan as any of my friends who had that experience… but I didn't. And as a result, while I can appreciate the spectacle of March Madness and the insane intensity that its 1-and-out format can create, by and large I'm left unmoved by college hoops except as a primer for getting to know the guys I'll be watching in the NBA in a year or two. Same with college football… if I haven't read articles about specific players or programs, chances are I know jack about either of the two teams I'll see flickering across my screen on Saturdays between September and December… and it's almost certain I won't care enough to actually stop and watch the game. Basically, I have no investment in college sports, and subsequently they hold about as much interest as… I dunno, tennis? Yeah, tennis. I'll watch 5 minutes of tennis, college hoops or college football, and then I'm done. And while I respect and understand how others can feel so passionate about them, it's just not an interest I share in the least.

Anyhow. That's me. What about you? Answer below, or swipe the meme yourself — and just let me know where to find it, so I can read & mock you just as you're about to mock me.

Adam P. Knave strikes again.

Eleven songs for eleven states.

1. Massachusetts — Scud Mountain Boys
Joe Pernice is a man of many names and pseudonyms, and while his work with the Pernice Brothers is (justifiably) his most renowned and acclaimed, his early songs with the Scud Mountain Boys are just as rich with melancholy gems as anything else he's ever done. His tribute to his home state – as well as that of one of your favorite blue lobsters – is a masterpiece of the genre: a marriage of pretty melody and wrenching lyrics about addiction and the awful, hopeless sense of drift it can create…

Ah, yes. Home, sweet home.

2. New Hampshire — Matt Pond PA
That's right. More Matt Pond PA. Suck it up, people… if you're coming here, you're gonna get some Matt Pond PA — and what's more, you're going to be grateful for it. Why? Because these songs are just gorgeous. And in New Hampshire, in particular? They even threw in a little pedal steel, just to make extra-sure there's no possible way you can not fall head-over-heels. You can try, but you'll fail. Few things in this world are more lovely than the judicious application of pedal steel. And in this song, where it's added to Pond's typically melancholy vocal stylings and carefully-wrought lyrics (there are things that we’ve done that we cannot undo/there are things i can’t hear when we’re telling the truth)… forget it. Resistance is futile.

3. Long Vermont Roads — The Magnetic Fields
If you're as worthy of my undying love and admiration as I presume you are, you're already entirely familiar with this song. And if not… well, I've just introduced you to something so wonderful that you're going to spend the rest of your life thanking me. I can't hear this song without being instantly projected back to the when and where that I first heard it: that tiny little bedroom in a converted attic that was my first apartment, staring up at the ceiling, lying on my cheap futon, wondering where it all went wrong.

4. Oregon — Poole
From one of the truly great lost albums in power pop history, Poole's Alaska Days (which, tragically for the sake of this mix, does not actually offer a song with the word Alaska in the title). Look: I understand that music – like all forms of artwork – is subjective, and that which floats my boat may leave yours sinking helplessly to the murky depths. But I can't imagine how anyone who doesn't qualify as entirely insane wouldn't find something timeless and joyful and wonderful in the most pure sense that music may ever be wonderful in this song. Chiming guitars, boatloads of happy jangle, nifty little harmonies at the chorus… what's not to love?

5. Carry Me Ohio — Sun Kil Moon
Quite simply: the single best song Mark Kozelek ever recorded with (as?) Sun Kil Moon. Six and a half minutes of slow-building gorgeous elegy that lodged itself in my head the first time I ever heard it, and which has remained there ever since. "You seem/the star that I just don't see/anymore" is still one of the most sad and damning lines ever committed to music.

6. Missouri — Low
D'ja ever notice that Missouri can be pronounced the same way as "misery?" If you were paying attention during the Magnetic Fields song (see #3), you did. So did Low.

7. New York Friends — Averkiou
I don't know jack about this band, beyond the fact that they're from Gainesville and… uh… that's all I've got. But I sure do like this song. So do you, even if you don't know it yet. Welcome to TwoBusy: it's educational!

8. New Mexico — Sea Stories
Honestly, this entire post is just an excuse to try to get you to listen to another Sea Stories song. Indulge me, won't you? Wide Eyed and Dreaming is still one of the most hopelessly gorgeous albums I've ever heard, following the band from strength to strength, blending slow-building, beautiful melodies with thoughtful, song-story lyrics to put a lump in your throat with a nonchalant ease that is nothing shy of wondrous to behold. Please, please, please, find a place for this terrific, long-forgotten album in your life. You'll be a better person for it.

9. North Dakota — Lyle Lovett
I've never been a big Lyle Lovett fan, but a couple of the songs from Joshua Judges Ruth grabbed hold of me a couple of years back in a serious and lasting way, and never let go. North Dakota is one of them. Obviously, the guest vocal by Rickie Lee Jones doesn't hurt, but it's the lyricism and quiet ache here that moves me so.

Now the weather's getting colder
It's even cold down here
And the words that you have told me
Hang frozen in the air
And sometimes I look right through them
As if they were not there

C'mon. Regardless of how you feel about Lovett… that's just ridiculously good.

10. California On My Mind — Wild Light
Gleefully, willfully obscene and catchy as all hell. The most completely, unabashedly radio-friendly-sounding song you will never, ever, not in a million billion years, hear on commercial radio. I'll put it this way: any song that can get my wife to happily sing, "Fuck today, fuck San Francisco… fuck California!' is worth its weight in gold. I defy you to listen to this song and not want to immediately hear it again. It's that good.

11. Hawaii — Mew
When your name isn't Fiona Apple and yet you still choose to title the long-awaited follow-up to the album that (kinda sorta) broke you in America something like No More Stories Are Told Today I'm Sorry They Washed Away No More Stories The World Is Grey I'm Tired Let's Wash Away… well, let's just say you've got your work cut out for you. And I'll tell you what: you're going to listen to the first two minutes of this song and ask yourself: Why am I bothering? Dude, why are you subjecting me to this? And then, around the 2:20 mark… the Mew-ness of the music will suddenly kick in, and you''ll suddenly be rapt with attention, and waiting for something remarkable and symphonic to abruptly burst out of the song again and…

Well, if you're me, you're hooked. Again.

Damned sneaky Danes.

Why bother writing a post when I can just give you the following slab of genius developed by my friend and colleague in PoliteFictions and MamaPop, Adam P. Knave?