Waking Ear

Ouch.

Back to the drawing board for my Suns. Next time, Gadget, next time!

When a 'bow hits your eye as you watch a man fly
That's Amare
When the Suns seem to shine as they kick your behind
That's Amare
When the Spurs start to drool just like a buncha fools
That's Amare

OK, I can't think of any more. But know this, Duncan: Amare is hungry. He's not even hungry. He's hawngray. And you're in his sights. Punks jump up to get beat down. I'm not very good at talking trash, but you get the idea.

That will be me in the sixth row at the SBC Center tonight, using tickets obtained by the wonderful Girlfriend, who also got me a brand-new Suns hat to replace the one I've been wearing for more than a decade. Oh, and she also got me one of Phoenix Suns fan Neal Pollack's books. Girlfriend gets the Girlfriend of the Year award.

Oh, music, you ask? I've been listening lately to two artists: Blind Willie McTell, the bluesman who heavily influenced Bob Dylan, and T.I., the rapper responsible for this year's greatest single, "Rubber Band Man." They have so much in common it's scary.

It just dawned on me that J-Kwon sounds a lot like an American Dizzee Rascal. Not in terms of vocal dexterity, just timbre. He's got that squeaky adolescent thing going in any case.

A voice like Steve Perry's just gets the imagination going, doesn't it? (Following snippet from this story, link via John in the Morning's newsletter.)

"Oh Steve…. Chuck's dead…!!!"

Steve was sure that he heard Roger wrong. Nancy, standing in the doorway, covers her mouth with her hand. Roger by now is crying uncontrollably. Steve is shaking him.

"Roger! What did you just say! Chuck is…. dead?!"

"A..car…accident…yesterday…he was coming back…"

"No! Roger! No….Jesus…not Chuck!"

By now Roger has gone without sleep for almost 36 hours and the strain is too much. Rogers knees began to buckle and Steve catches him before he hits the floor. Roger falls to his knees and Steve goes with him. They land in a heap on the floor. Steve holding Roger.

"Steve! Oh Steve! I have know Chuck since we were….eleven!"

Roger buries his head in Steve's chest crying. Steve looks up at Nancy, tears streaming down his face as well.

I forgot to mention the best musical moment of my weekend trip. The aforementioned ATA also plays music videos during boarding, and most of them are relatively current. But randomly, they played "On My Own," the 1986 duet by Patti LaBelle and Michael McDonald. Now that's a song I've not heard for a long time.

In the video, LaBelle and McDonald stroll around the city on a split screen, looking forlorn. They're a horrible match musically, and they don't even look like they'd hang out -- LaBelle with her wild hair and stylish clothes, McDonald in lots of khaki. McDonald even misses some notes. The whole song's much worse than I remember it being.

Which is why I can't really explain how giddy I felt watching it. I think it was the sheer nuttiness of seeing the video on the airplane. Airlines usually only show you video from their entertainment partners, who are promoting movies or TV shows or gadgets or SkyMall or whatever. It's very coordinated. But ghetto-ass ATA had no agenda! They were bringing the people Patti LaBelle, because why the hell not?

Wish I could just get John Richards to DJ my wedding. But this is pretty cool.

ATA is bankrupt and has the ugliest logo and color scheme I've ever seen. But their theme song rocks, as I was reminded this weekend on a series of flights. Imagine smooth, Luther Vandross-style R&B: "If you want to go easy, go ATA...."

My weekend was ostensibly spent in Olympia visiting Girlfriend's mom, but because I'm a cheap-ass I ended up with a flight that included a long layover in Chicago. The happy part was that I got to see my sister in Chicago, and the other happy part was that I got to spend the better part of two days just listening to my iPod, which produced the following musings:

Check out John Tejada's remix of the Postal Service's "Such Great Heights," off the "District Sleeps Alone Tonight" single. It doesn't replace the original, but it's a nice re-imagining, slow and bassy.

I would never have predicted that my favorite song off the Scissor Sisters album would be "It Can't Come Quickly Enough," but it is. It's totally simple and, in concert, required only singer Jake Shears and the keyboardist, who I think calls himself Babydaddy. In any case, Shears sings the shit out of it like he was George Michael.

Speaking of, Black Box Recorder's "Andrew Ridgely" popped up randomly on my iPod and thoroughly pleased me.

By the way, if you're ever in the Seattle area and find yourself in need of a fantastic sandwich, may I recommend the Chachi at Honey Hole. Many thanks to Jodes and Rob for hooking that up.

Triumph the Insult Comic Dog's Come Poop With Me has been nominated for a Grammy. As well it should be. It's a good album.

FOR ME TO POOP ON!

I keed, I keed.

Our friend Uus does the best impression I've ever heard of Triumph. I have shed tears laughing so hard at hearing him say, "Help! I was fucking this poodle and I got stuck!"

I'm dumb. Remember when I was trying to decide between Scissor Sisters and RJD2? Well, I can go to both. Because Scissor Sisters rescheduled their date, which I forgot to note on my Outlook calendar (yes, I track shows on my Outlook calendar, fuck you), causing all the confusion in the first place. Which proves why I shouldn't think out loud.