Southpaw Jones

Southpaw Jones presents

Thoughts/feelings that just might not matter:
Is it just me, or is “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” one of the most boring songs ever?

My day in Portland ended with a very fun show at Mississippi Studios, a true acoustic venue in a cool section of town. Sound was good, food was good, drinks were good, and the crowd was on point. You can’t ask for more than that. Raina & I alternated short sets, and I spoke with several friends both old and new. That gig was the reason for (and the highlight of) my trip.

Afterward, there was talk of a party at a farm. Tryon Life Community Farm in the great forests of Portland, to be exact. You see, a girl named Jenny was leaving the farm, so a celebration of life was in order. Since then, I’ve had “A Girl Named Jenny is Leaving the Farm” in my head as a possible title/lyric. The air was cool that night, and I had to put on a light jacket for the first time since, I don’t know, February? I enjoyed it.

We got there toward the end of the event, and they had already run out of pizza from their horno oven. There was still a fire, though, and a drum circle around it. So we hung out, talked, leaned into the fire, and watched Jenny give really long hippie hugs to her friends. Word on the street is that a hug over 20 seconds allows the release of magic hormones that produce a sense of wellbeing. That’s an experiment for another day, I decided. I hugged myself and wondered about ticks; a later body check came back negative.

I peed in the woods, and I thought how nice it was to be in a near-urban, sustainability-encouraging, party-throwing farm in The Great Northwest. I lost money on the trip, but it was worth it to use my hoodie for a couple hours. Good luck, Jenny! I hardly knew thee.

Abi Tapia presents

Our own wanderlusty singer/songwriter offers a view from her lens:
It felt like a giant insect invasion when they buzzed into Chattanooga.

Spike Gillespie presents

A look at our past, / seventeen syllables and / three lines at a time:

Wellstone departs so
suddenly. Dems rally but
Mondale not the Norm.

Southpaw Jones presents

Pics of Southpaw, his environ, and his interweb:
So far, The Official Seal of Southpawjones.com:

Southpaw Jones presents

Freshly-picked quotes from the ol’ reference collection:
In my sex fantasy, nobody ever loves me for my mind.
Nora Ephron

Thank you, come again!
southpawjones.com
E-mail southpaw@southpawjones.com
©2006 Southpaw Jones. All rights reserved.

Southpaw Jones presents

Thoughts/feelings that just might not matter:
Wednesday means Café Mundi at 8 pm, featuring the return of The Electric One, Matt the Electrician. Tomorrow night, I’ll join Melissa Greener & Gretchen Phillips at Café Caffeine.

Is Butterfinger a good breakfast food? Obviously not, but peanut butter has protein. What about its bastard cousin, candy bar peanut butter? Obviously, natural PB rules the Peanut Butter Kingdom. His head is anointed with oil.

After church in Portland, Raina dropped me off in something called the Pearl District. It’s an odd but fitting name for a place that was once an irritant to the townsfolk. Now it boasts a myriad of shops, restaurants, bars, and pretty people.

I got a bleu-cheese-bacon burger. Check. I walked through a decent record store. Check. Both were opening acts for the main event, which I whole-heartedly recommend to any and everyone: a trip to Powells Bookstore, “the largest independent used and new bookstore in the world!” How big is it? Easy answer: a city block, multiple stories. Metaphysical answer: as big as the hopes & dreams of a reading generation. Personal answer: big enough to fill a Sunday afternoon and still leave me wanting more.

I meandered for hours before finding the in-store coffeehouse. Color-themed room after color-themed room. Have you noticed I love quotes? Well, the collection of quote collections was two shelves with about 8 rows each. Every time I though I was finished, I remembered something else I was passionate about: sheet music, marketing, travel, pop culture, journals. That’s the great thing about bookstores, especially huge ones. If you stay in there long enough, it will awaken some part of you that has been sleeping.

When I finally started thinking about the Fun Time Gazette and web stuff in general, I realized that Powells had no computer section. Wow, that’s a pretty stiff weakness, I thought. Sure, computer books are ugly and out-of-date before they’re printed, but I like to look through them for ideas. In disbelief, I returned to the front, or one of the “fronts,” and discovered that something called Technical Powells was down the road two blocks. That’s right. And guess how big that place is…

Check this out: http://powells.com/trip/
They’ve got a contest for an amazing trip to Portland and Powells. I’ve already entered. If you win, you have to take me.

Spike Gillespie presents

A look at our past, / seventeen syllables and / three lines at a time:

Soaring Angels prove
in spite of the strength of Bonds
Giants sometimes fall.

Southpaw Jones presents

Humility is our only hope:
1] unemployment
2] employment

Southpaw Jones presents

Pics of Southpaw, his environ, and his interweb:
David Byrne makes some cool music and cool art. Here’s one of his Tree Drawings:

Southpaw Jones presents

One clue whose answer consists of two rhyming words:
Single number found on a particular tool
Highlight here for answer: [widget digit]

Thank you, come again!
southpawjones.com
E-mail southpaw@southpawjones.com
©2006 Southpaw Jones. All rights reserved.

Southpaw Jones presents

Thoughts/feelings that just might not matter:
Alright, I think it’s time I finish the story of my trip to the Northwest. I woke up in Portland on the last day of the trip, and I headed to church with Raina Rose and her father. Just any church, Southpaw? Nay, the First Unitarian Church of Portland, one of the largest congregations of its kind. It took up a whole city block, maybe more.

I visited just in time for the return of their Senior Minister, Rev. Dr. Marilyn Sewell. She had been to some far away places, and she seemed pumped for an annual presentation called “What’s It All About, Alfie?” The ushers handed out paper, and we were instructed to write questions about anything and everything. The good Rev. Dr. then answered them extemporaneously. I did not submit a question, although “Where’s the coffee?” weighed heavily on my mind.

It was wild to see someone field huge questions of life, love, and the great beyond off-the-cuff on a Sunday morning. Dr. Sewell did a great job. Turns out she was a Sunday School teacher in a Southern Baptist church. When she divorced her husband, that community ostracized her and took away the position she loved. After years of searching, she went to seminary for The Enemy, Unitarianism. Silly Baptists, judgment is for kids.

Having grown up in a strict church environ myself, it was wild to hear such open, unassuming talk from a pulpit. I had been to UU churches before, but I suppose I’ll never get used to it. For example, one question read, “Does God feel emotions?” Dr. Sewell began her response with, “Well, this question presupposes there is a God…” And so it goes.

Southpaw Jones presents

Moving pictures because technology allows it:
Woo! Do NOT mess with this video unless you’re prepared to be out of commission for a minute or two. It will make your world wavy like gravy. You’ll probably get a better effect by choosing the full-screen option here.

Spike Gillespie presents

A look at our past, / seventeen syllables and / three lines at a time:

The Twin Towers fall.
Sorrow, anger and pride rise
up from the ashes.

Atomic Robot presents
Wikipedioh?
What you might not know about what you might now know:
The Worst Video Game of All Time

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E.T._%28video_game%29

Despite truly miraculous titles like Custer’s Revenge, the sheer size and weight of ET: The Video Game’s failure grants it the title of “Worst Video Game of All Time.”

Here’s what Wikipedia tells us:

“E.T. is seen by many as the death knell for Atari and is widely regarded as one of the worst video games ever produced as well as one of the biggest commercial failures in video gaming history. The game’s failure is often epitomized as a major contributing factor of the video game crash of 1983.”

Atari execs, confident that the brand recognition alone of Atari and E.T. would guarantee the game’s success, commissioned Howard Scott Warshaw to program the game, giving him five weeks to turn out the finished product. The game proved to be such a colossal flop that millions of excess cartridges of the game were buried in the New Mexico desert.

Here’s what Wikipedia doesn’t tell you:

Twenty years later, that particular section of the New Mexico desert has grown into a lovely oasis of video game trees.

Southpaw Jones presents

One clue whose answer consists of two rhyming words:
A twisty-turny infectious agent
This is a tough one…my bad!
Highlight here for answer: [viral spiral]

Thank you, come again!
southpawjones.com
E-mail southpaw@southpawjones.com
©2006 Southpaw Jones. All rights reserved.

Southpaw Jones presents

Thoughts/feelings that just might not matter:
Well, I’m getting the Gazette up late today, because my internet was down when I woke up this morning. Some time after coffee and iTunes clean-up, it came back on. So here I be. Thanks to a Borders gift card, I was able to order DVDs to replace my VHS copies of Lone Star and Amistad, two of my favorite films. I’m a sucker for long, talky films with manipulative soundtracks. I remember taking my parents to see Amistad in Houston after I had already seen it once. They go to the movies when – and only when – I take them. Unfortunately, it was one of those situations where the film itself was slightly off-kilter, and we the audience could occasionally see some production equipment and boom mics at the top of the screen. Talk about taking one out of the story…

On our way out, I stopped by an employee and asked for, nay, demanded tickets to make up for our inability to immerse ourselves and suspend disbelief. Others from the crowd stood behind me. The management obliged, and my mother looked at me differently from then on. Her timid little boy had grown up to be an in-your-face consumer advocate. I may stand idly by while you insult my home, friends, and family, but I will bite your ear if the scent of free tickets comes wafting from your pocket. Woof.

Southpaw Jones presents
Do it With Style
Fun words to say while belching, stretching, or answering the phone:
BIRKENSTOCK
RICK
STORK
FRANKFURTER
CALAMITY

Southpaw Jones presents

Pics of Southpaw & his environ:
Check out the Church Sign Generator in action:

Spike Gillespie presents

A look at our past, / seventeen syllables and / three lines at a time:

Crisis speak thy name.
First Saddam. Then Monica.
Then Saddam, again.

Southpaw Jones presents

Freshly-picked quotes from the ol’ reference collection:
You might not have always liked Republicans, but you could count on them to manage the bank. They might be lousy tippers, act snooty, talk through their noses, wear spats and splash mud on you as they race their Pierce-Arrows through the village, but you knew they could do the math. To see them produce a ninny and then follow him loyally into the swamp for five years is disconcerting, like seeing the Rolling Stones take up lite jazz. So here we are at an uneasy point in our history, mired in a costly war and getting nowhere, a supine Congress granting absolute power to a president who seems to get smaller and dimmer, and the best the Republicans can offer is San Franciscophobia?
Garrison Keillor

Thank you, come again!
southpawjones.com
©2006 Southpaw Jones. All rights reserved.

Southpaw Jones presents

Thoughts/feelings that just might not matter:
I’ll have to continue the story of the Northwest tour on Monday, ‘cause I’m just bustin’. I bought some gay jeans yesterday! (I use “gay” here to indicate that a heterosexual man has put some modicum of effort into his appearance. Take it or leave it.) My lower half has finally arrived in the 21st Century.

It started out innocently enough. I had a $10 card for the Kohl’s department store, and I thought I might find one of those folding trays I had seen on TV. You know, the kind upon which you can eat, drink, use a computer, draw sketches, and change a baby’s diaper. Ok, you could probably do those things with any tray, but this one really draws right up to your belly on the couch.

Anyhoo, I didn’t see anything like that, so I started looking at shoes. I need to replace my Vans. The Vans with a hole in the right one, because a dog bit me in New York City. In the summer of 2001! Needless to say, that’s not the only hole in them. No luck on the shoes. Shoes are obnoxious these days. Almost as obnoxious as…

Jeans! Oh, I remember when Abi Tapia first informed me that all my jeans “go in” or “taper” at the ankle, and this is apparently unpardonable. Your body should be presented as a straight line, she told me. This was about a year ago. Her advice stayed in the back of my mind, until my ladyfriend Maggie – upon prompting – seconded her opinion.

Southpaw Jones presents

Freshly-picked quotes from the ol’ reference collection:
The records I used to listen to and still love, you can’t make a record that sounds that way. Brian Wilson, he made all his records with four tracks, but you couldn’t make his records if you had a hundred tracks today. We all like records that are played on record players, but let’s face it, those days are gon-n-n-e. You do the best you can, you fight that technology in all kinds of ways, but I don’t know anybody who’s made a record that sounds decent in the past twenty years, really. You listen to these modern records, they’re atrocious, they have sound all over them. There’s no definition of nothing, no vocal, no nothing, just like — static. Even these songs probably sounded ten times better in the studio when we recorded ‘em. CDs are small. There’s no stature to it. I remember when that Napster guy came up across, it was like, ‘Everybody’s gettin’ music for free.’ I was like, ‘Well, why not? It ain’t worth nothing anyway.’
Bob Dylan

Southpaw Jones presents

More verbosity with velocity and viscosity:
Ok, now the information had moved to the middle of my mind, and I was standing in Kohl’s with a $10 card, looking at reasonably priced Levis. “Let’s do it, “ I said. “Ok,” I said.” Then began the search. Tapered leg, of course, was right out. But I still had to choose between straight leg and boot cut. Loose fit or relaxed fit. I still don’t know which is tighter! Button-fly or zipper. [That one’s easy; I will never complicate my life with button-fly. People working with button-fly tend to look like they’re winding a clock or unlocking a deadbolt in their crotch.] Then there’s normal, distressed, and Mega-Extreme Distressed! I swear, I saw jeans in there that were giving away their prized possessions and sleeping 14 hours a day. I wouldn’t mind trying counseling for jeans. “You have to put your person in one leg at a time, just like every other pair.” That’s odd, Southpaw.

Since when do the retail stores look just like thrift stores? I know I’m showing my age, but I just can’t buy something “new” that’s been purposely ravaged by a machine. Or is it even by machine? Are there people in third-world countries living years of active life in jeans just so they can be sold as new to Americans? Am I wrong in assuming that even Kurt Cobain wore his jeans down naturally?

All this text above? This is why you never want to go shopping with me. I got loose fit, straight leg jeans. And they apparently sit below my waist, but above where my waste comes out. Had to do it. I am now the shortest distance between two points for only $20 out-of-pocket.

Spike Gillespie presents

A look at our past, / seventeen syllables and / three lines at a time:

A pair of Bushes
are planted at the White House,
make Clinton sandwich.

Southpaw Jones presents

Silly games for silly times:
The copter-crashing classic. Here’s the original location, in case it’s not showing up below.

Thank you, come again!
southpawjones.com
©2006 Southpaw Jones. All rights reserved.